#aaron reassuring her and expressing his love at the end was so beautiful and so sweet i got teary eyed

[yuly]

my favs!!!!!!!!! i love this story to pieces🥹🫶🏾

i'm a mess but

⤷ aaron hotchner x reader

summary ⤷ Aaron has this date all planned out but things seem to fall apart and they're forced to improvise.

pairing ⤷ aaron hotchner x fem!bimbo!reader

warnings ⤷ fluff! slight angst - reader opens up about her horrible dates. aaron mentions haley, her death, and how he feels about it (briefly). not a warning but jack and jess make an appearance!

word count ⤷ 7k words

a/n ⤷ HELLLOOOOOO! i wasn't really expecting the first part to blow up but the support and love i received in my first bimbo!reader fic was so overwhelming 🥺🥺🥺 thank you to everyone who read the first one and i hope this second part lives up to your guys' expectation and to your liking. i received three requests involving aaron and bimbo!reader so i'll be working on the two before incorporating the third request in part three of this saga! also i have a possible plot for spencer reid x bimbo!reader and i'm trying to gauge if you guys would be interested in that? as always, feedback is appreciated. have a day as fantastic as yourselves!!! ❤️❤️

masterlist | part one: mess of mine

✪

“And just as a reminder, we will be having the weekends off for this month as Strauss has deemed we deserve a break after the continuous cases that took away most of our time,” Hotch reiterates before they end their final meeting for the week. This announcement was met with cheers and applause by the rest of the team. “Anyway you can have them extend our weekends off for the next, say, 12 months?”

This time Hotch cracked a smile as he gathered his files and into his folder as he shook his head, “Only way you can have that is by making a wish to a genie.” The team looked among themselves, each of their faces etched with surprise and amusement as they rarely got to witness their unit chief ride in on their jokes; behind their entertained expressions, they were curious as to what prompted this change. Rossi schooled his expression as well, despite knowing about the cause for Aaron’s welcome change in demeanor, he knew that his friend wanted to share the little ray of sunshine he found on his own terms. “If there’s nothing else, you all are dismissed for the rest of the week. Have a good one.”

As the team slowly dispersed out of the room, Hotch found Rossi smirking at him to which he raised an eyebrow at him, “Penny for your thoughts, Dave?” To which the mentor looked around the round table to ensure that everyone but them had left, “So, I’m assuming tonight’s the first date then?”

The faintest shade of red littered Aaron’s cheeks as he nodded and exited out of the room, “Tonight is the first date, yes. I’m picking her up after her shift at 7.”

Rossi looks at his watch and smiles upon seeing that their unit chief had a solid hour prior to picking up his date for the night. “Normally I’d wish someone good luck on their first date,” Hotch appreciated in that moment how Rossi leaned into his ear to whisper that as to not catch the attention of the nosy profilers, “But something tells me you would not need it in this scenario. Have a great weekend, Aaron.”

“You too, Dave. Try sticking to one jazz club this time, yes?”

Chuckling when Rossi flipped him off, Aaron hurriedly packed all of his things in his briefcase before heading out of the office. As he waited impatiently for the elevator to bring him to the floor of their parking lot. Turning on the radio, Hotch found himself smiling upon hearing a pop song — that he once was not familiar with until he started talking with Y/N. What started as constant texts, transitioned into hour long phone calls where their topics of conversation ranged from her opinions on how the internet’s influence on fashion trends have both been good and bed, her singing him the new song she had stuck in her head — which explains how he was now familiar with a lot of the songs that were played in the radio — but the one thing that seems to be a constant subject is how he would look good in certain styles of clothing.

Once home, he was delighted to see that Jack had been all cheery from his day at school and soccer practice. He indulges in his son’s excited recollection of his day, relishing in the giggles he let out everytime his son praised the dinner that was prepared for him; though it was just chicken nuggets, mashed potatoes, and some fries, he supposes that if it were made with love it would taste like a fine meal. It was like time passed by quickly after their meal as Jack was already bathed and dressed in his jammies before 6:45. After a quick chat with Jess, he was out the door and anxiously driving to the boutique. Once parked right out by the store, he was just in time to see his sweetheart exiting the front door and closing the aluminium security shutters. Jumping out of the car, he surprised her by gently pulling her back and lowering the shutters. “Aaron!” Came her surprised giggle, hugging his arm and looking at him like he was her whole world. “You’re here!”

“I did promise to take you out on a date, right?” He teased once he was sure the chutters were secured. Chuckling, she nodded her head as she smiled widely, “You did! And I was so excited for our date, you know? Phoebe got so annoyed with me talking her ears off about how handsome you were and how nice you are.”

Grateful that she was too busy rambling so she couldn’t witness Aaron blushing, he walked her to his car, opening the passenger door to reveal a bouquet of pink and white flowers; handing them to her with a smile he spoke, “For you, sweetheart.”

“Aaron! They’re so pretty!” She squealed excitedly and threw her arms around him, nuzzling her face in his shoulder, “Thank you, thank you! You’re spoiling me way too much already!”

“Well I have to, sweetheart,” He explained as he helped her in the car before quickly jogging to the driver’s side and continuing on, “Have to treat you like a queen, you know?”

“Does that mean you’re my handsome king?” Her question had him reciprocating the sweet smile she had on before reaching for her hand and placing a kiss on her knuckles and affirmed, “I’ll be whatever you need me to be, sweetheart.” And in turn, that made heat spread throughout her face.

The drive to the restaurant was short yet filled with so much light and conversation. Stepping out of the vehicle once Aaron opened the door for her, she smiled at him, “Thank you, Ay-ay-ron.”

Before entering the restaurant, the couple were met with views of disgruntled customers, some of them having wet stains on their dresses while others seemed to have  food stains on them. Puzzling her, she looks up at Aaron, “I wonder if they’re alright.”

They were about to find out for themselves upon reaching the host’s stand and announced their arrival, “Reservation for Hotchner, please.” The host who had their back turned faced them with an uneasy smile as they too were trying to rid the blemishes and food stains that unfortunately clung onto his work clothes; he looked down on the their tablet that served as their scheduler and frowned upon looking up at them, “I have to sincerely apologise, Mr. Hotchner. There has been an unfortunate incident, one of our servers tripped which caused this domino effect to the other servers, causing them to drench our customers and staff in food. Not to mention that one of our new chefs in training caused an identical chaos at the back.”

“You can use a butter knife to get rid off the food there,” She pointed to both the host’s shoulders that had some food residue that looked very well edged in the fabric; next thing she noticed wine stains by their chest, “And for the wine, putting hydrogen peroxide and dishwashing liquid in the stain for about ten minutes will get it out.” The way she shared the information so casually paired with the way she tilted her head to the side and pursed her glossy lips made it all the more surprising that she new what to do; but beside her, Aaron felt nothing but pride swell in his chest as he pressed her closer to him by her waist. 

“I appreciate your advice, ma’am,” The host then faced Aaron once more before saying, “Unfortunately we are not in any capacity to entertain our beloved guests for the rest of the evening. We’ll put a note to put you in our priority list for next time if that sounds fair?” Nodding as he held back a frown of his own, the unit chief understood that things were past their control, “That would be much appreciated, thank you.”

With that the couple then left the restaurant, Aaron tried to school his features as he tried to hide the panic in his face; however as Y/N looked up to see him she pouted as she saw that there was a slight furrow in his eyebrows. Reaching up to rub the skin between them she cooed, “Don’t frown, Aaron. Why are you even frowning?”

Almost immediately a smile replaced the mentioned frown as he explained, “Well since the restaurant is a bust, I’m sensing that I’ve just wasted your time, sweetheart. The date’s pretty much ruined already.” Her offended gasp took him aback, causing them to stop just as he was about to open his car door for her, “Well good thing a dinner is not the only you go out for a date! Plus, you just saved me, you know?”

“Saved you from exactly what, sweetheart?”

“From having a fancy dinner! Don’t get me wrong, the décor looks amazing and all, but sometimes their menu is so hard to pronounce too! Like just say roasted, why use sweltering? And don’t get me started on their alcohol — bordeaux, wine, brandy? It’s all just so confusing,” As he walked her to the passenger seat and helped her in, he just chuckled lightly as he tried to console her, “They do tend to differ in ingredients and alcohol percentage.”

“Even you get it,” She whines out to which he now smoothed the furrow she had which quickly disappeared upon feeling his touch in her skin. Swiftly moving to the driver’s side, Aaron looked at her with a soft expression before asking, “Why don’t I get your mind off of it then? How would you like to spend our time together?”

His heart melted at the excited grin she had as she thought deep about how to spend their date before rambling, “We could go bowling in this place on 6th Avenue, oh but they have league games today. Oh! How about we go to this drive-in theatre just by the outskirts of town?” Just as he was about to agree to her suggestion she pouted once more, “But wait, their movie for tonight is a kid’s one, Megamind, I think.” Her excited gasp accompanied by her light taps to Aaron’s shoulder made it evident how excited she was by her current idea, “We could go right into the city centre! They have different kinds of food trucks this day of the week!”

“You sure that’s what you want, sweetheart?” He got her affirmation as she buckled her seatbelt up and nodded, “Sure do, Aarbear! I heard there was a food truck that would sell raspberry and cherry cotton candy.”

“Aarbear?” He questioned the nickname although he could not deny the warm feeling that washed over him upon being granted to him. She hummed, “Ever since we last saw each other, I’ve been thinking of cute nicknames for you; since you call me sweetheart. Aarbear is my favourite just because you remind me of a teddy bear. Just so snuggly and cute.”

“Snuggly and cute? Sweetheart, have you taken a good look at me? I’m the farthest thing from that don’t you think?” Aaron playfully countered as he relished in their playful banter. “You know what? Yeah, I have taken a good look at you and if I say so for myself you always look dashing and,” Her train of thought was cut off when she gasped out loud and saw the coat he was wearing, “And I thought I told you to wear the pink suit I got you! Why didn’t you?”

By that time, they had already reached the public parking that was allocated for the food truck event, Aaron looked at her chuckling as he thought she wasn’t serious about her little plan for the pink suit she gifted him; but upon seeing her expression which consisted of a frown with her wobbly lips and a furrowed brow, he knew that it was serious and important to her. Hoping to appease her feelings, Hotch then lifted his hand up to rub on her cheek gently and as she nuzzled herself deeper into his warmth, “I’m sorry, sweetheart. But I might have mentioned it before, but I don’t really know how to pair up clothes, you know? That’s why my suits and slacks have always matched.”

Placing her chin centre on his palm, she shoots him a smile as her upset expression now melting into an excited one as she speaks, “Does that mean I get to dress you up? I get to rifle through your wardrobe?” Removing herself from his hold, they both tried to ignore how empty it felt when they were not within each other’s reach; but to help diminish the emptiness they felt Y/N then laced her hand with his large one and grinned, “Next time we go out for a date, we go to your house first so I can dress you up and make you even more handsome! Oh there’s this new sweater line that came out and I wanna see how the sweater brings out the brown in your eyes.”

“Already planning our next date, sweetheart? You already want me around you that much?” Unsure of whether he can handle the truth of her answer, Aaron kissed her knuckles as he made his way out of the car and opened the passenger door for her. Leaping out to wrap her arms around his large figure as she hummed against his shoulder, “I sure do, Aarbear. So hopefully you don’t get sick of me right away.”

“I don’t think I could ever get sick of you, sweetheart,”  Aaron reassured her as they began walking towards the plethora of food trucks that were present in the little festival going on, “Besides, the only thing I plan on getting sick on is a ton of cotton candy. Was raspberry your favourite flavour?”

Failing to hide how giddy she was at his sincere revelation, she smiled as she laced her fingers with his and dragged him to where the food truck that sold cotton candies were. “I do like the grape-flavoured ones, do you have a favourite?” It was in that moment that Aaron wished he had a camera permanently lodged into his brain so he could capture the way her eyes sparkled as she inquired more about his interests. He hummed as they stood in line in front of the food truck, “I don’t think I’ve explored enough of these flavours to have a definite favourite.”

Her gasp paired with the soft tap on the shoulder was another thing that was quickly becoming a favourite of Aaron’s. Upon reaching the front of the line, Y/N took charge and ordered three kinds of cotton candy. As she reached down for her wallet, she was caught off guard at how quick her date was in tapping his own credit card against the machine. 

“Aaron! Why didn’t you let me pay?”

The two walked a few feet away and sat down on the bench nearby before he smiled and pinched some cotton candy and offered it to her, “Now what kind of man would I be if I even let you touch your wallet throughout our date?” 

Returning the favour by feeding him some cotton candy as well, she pursed her lips as she concluded, “A handsome gentleman, still. And don’t ever think differently.” From there on they fell into an easy conversation which ranged from childhood shenanigans to workplace happenings. For Y/N this was a complete 360 switch to see Aaron’s eyes crinkled in joy and his posture relaxed; seeing him so serious and stiff on their first meeting gave her the impression he’d be too uptight. In her mind, she’d do anything to keep the beautiful smile on his face. “Wait, so Garcia was able to access the file that I didn’t know the password to?”

“Took her less than five minutes to do that, sweetheart,” Aaron informed her as the two wiped their mouths of any crumbs and threw the container in the trash before strolling once more to get more food, “What else are you in the mood for?”

“Can we get some tacos? It’s been quite a while since I’ve had some,” With that Aaron led the way as he spotted the specific truck sooner, “So Garcia can hack into anything?” As they stood in line in front of other patrons, Y/N made sure to only whisper her question so as to not attract any unwanted attention from curious ears, something that did not escape Aaron’s observant nature and something he appreciated.

“Absolutely, it only takes her about ten minutes to do so. There’s rarely anything she can’t crack,” He answers, however he’s left more puzzled as she stands on her tiptoes and whispers in his ear, “Do you think she can hack into something for me?”

“What exactly do you need to get hacking into, sweetheart?”

At that, her glossed up lips — which compared to last time that was a soft red shade, this time around she had a flushed pink hue with a slight shimmer to it — formed a pout as her eyebrows furrowed in frustration as she recounts, “Because I signed up for Snapchat a year ago and then now I forgot which password I used to it, it reached to a point where I’ve tried so many times that they told me I’m no longer allowed to try guessing. And I wanna get access back to it because everytime I take a cute selfie of myself I send it there.”

 By the end of her story, they reached the front of the line and Aaron paused their conversation for a while to order for the two of them; his heart fluttered when Y/N patted his shoulder gently as she whispered, “Extra cheese on mine, please.”

Once they were handed their food, the two stepped away and once again found a bench to give them privacy. Before even taking a bite from her taco, she faced him and her face was once again etched with concern, “So? Do you think Garcia will help me? I can give her a cute little outfit in the boutique if she does. Or whatever else she wants, promise.”

Smiling at her as he allowed his first bite to go down before replying, “I’m sure she’d love to assist you even without the promise of repayment.” She was midbite when she looked up at Aaron, cheese at the side of her mouth as she seemed confused with what he meant before he clarified as he wiped the corner of her mouth with a napkin, “I’ll let her know you need help, sweetheart.”

Shrieking out of excitement wasn’t the only way she expressed her relief but also with the way she tried her best to wrap her arms around him without causing both their tacos to crack as they hit the ground, “Thank you, Aar! Can’t tell you how happy I am to hear that! Do you think Garcia will like cupcakes or cookies more? I’ve been meaning to bake since it’s been a while, you know.”

“I know for a fact she wouldn’t mind either one, sweetheart,” He leaned closer as if he was sharing a secret and whispered in her ear, “But I do know you and her will get along well.”

Her nose scrunched up in excitement as she shimmied her shoulders in a little dance, “You did mention she likes little quirky gadgets and she dresses a lot like I do. Maybe she and I can go shopping sometime? You mentioned you work with other ladies too right? Alexa and GG?”

“Alex and JJ, sweetheart,” He gently corrects her as threw his napkin after finishing his taco in the nearby bin, “But yes, I’m sure they’d love to meet you. Maybe in the near future we can set that up?”

Her excited nod caused some of the taco sauce to spread past her lips, prompting Aaron to wipe the sides of her mouth as she replied, “Do you think they’d like me though? Some people I’ve met before say I’m too much or you know,” The slight pause between her train of thought made him worry about what previous perceptions were about her so he encouraged her on, “Know what exactly, sweetheart?”

Perhaps it was the way he gently coaxed her or the way he rubbed her back was full of care but it got her talking as she mentioned, “It’s just, people like my friends say that I’m dumb, that I’m no fun to be around with,” She sniffled a little which proved to be the wrong thing to do as it accidentally got some sauce on her nose, to which she scowled a little and threw the wrapper away and she felt a sudden wave of shyness take over her as Aaron was quick to wipe by her nose, “I don’t have very many people who stay — except for my family, I guess, but they don’t really have that much of a  choice — so I don’t know,” She looks up at him and it was only then that Aaron got a good look of her eyes that had a glimmer of both hope and sadness, “I’d really like for you to stay, Aar.”

“I’d like that too,” Came his immediate reply as he brought her into his warm embrace, tucking her head underneath his chin as he tried to get across every ounce of affection he had had for her, “I promise I’ll keep you close to me, sweetheart.”

Slightly detaching herself from his hold to take a good look on his face, she smiled up at him, “Have I ever mentioned that you’re one of the most handsome men in the world? If not the most? Like, inside and out,” She pulled away fully from his embrace and frowned as she recalled her statement, “No wait, I don’t think it works that way. Do you mind being called beautiful? I know some guys are uncomfortable with that. Or maybe I can call you a pretty boy?”

Shaking his head at her silly antics he just kissed her forehead and teased her, “I thought Aarbear was the nickname you had for me?”

“I guess that’s just one of the struggles for when you’re the most perfect man in the world, hm? Having too many options for a nickname since you’re everything good,” she giggled. 

Just as he was about to reply with some sort of a witty comeback, the shrill tone of his phone broke them out of their trance. Dread filled his gut immediately at the thought of a case whisking him away from a great date; he shot her an apologetic expression before saying, “Sorry,” And answering the phone and being pleasantly surprised that it was just Jess calling, “Jess? Is everything alright?”

Deciding to keep herself preoccupied while Aaron tends to his call, Y/N mindlessly grabbed for his free hand and slowly traced over the lines on his hand and smiled upon noticing how much larger his hand was and when she lined up her hand against his, she rubbed the skin of it and realised that she could get used to the warm feeling of his touch.

“I’m sorry about that, sweetheart,” Aaron apologised as he pocketed his phone and that seemed to break her out of her trance as she looked up at him and mirrored the small frown he was sporting, “That was Jess, she’s the aunt of my son. She said he awoke from a nightmare and won’t calm down. Apparently, he’s been asking for me and refuses to go back to sleep until he sees me.” 

“Then you should go to him,” Was her instant reply as she stood up on her feet and held out her hand for him to take, “Let’s go to your sweet boy, Aarbear.”

Taking her by the hand, he smiled at her as he led the way back to the car he decided to check in with her, “I’m sorry to spring this on you, sweetheart, but I’m a single father to a five year old.”

Upon being helped into the passenger seat she waited for Aaron to buckle himself in beside her before asking, “So what’s he like? And what’s his name?” The unit chief could not hold back the smile from how sincere she was in her curiosity. “Jack is a talented soccer player, he’s slowly getting into music and he can’t wait to audition for their spring play. I will say though he takes a lot of traits from his mom, which might be a good thing for him, honestly.”

Scoffing in offence, she gently scolded him, “Do not talk about yourself in that way, Aarbear! You’re smart, kind, funny, always keeping alert and all that. You have a lot of good qualities, you know.” There was a comfortable silence that took over for a few minutes before they were at a red light where it got Y/N thinking, “Wait, so if you have a son he has a mother, right?”

“I do believe that is how biology works, sweetheart,” His lighthearted joke was his attempt to soften the upcoming difficult conversation they were definitely going to have  in light of her recent discovery of his son. 

“Where is his mom then? Wait,” She panicked as she looked at him and gently held onto his forearm, “Oh God, please don’t tell me I’m making you cheat on your wife. That I’m not the other woman.”

Her somber pout while adorable made his heart clench as he realised she was concerned about what Haley meant to him as it shows how serious their relationship is to her. So he reached over the console and rubbed her knee comfortingly, “You’re not the other woman, sweetheart. Jack’s mother, Haley, is not in the picture.”

“Why not? Is she okay?”

Her kind nature came through once more and every time Aaron has a glimpse of it, it makes him feel like he’s in this trance-like dream where his dream woman came to life by merely manifesting it. “She unfortunately passed away. We had this unsub — bad guy — who went after me and my family.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that, Aar,” Y/N sympathized once Aaron was parking his car in their assigned stall. Once parked he looked at her and there was a slight tremble in his lips as he shared with her, “She was killed, and he was about to go after Jack but I was able to put a stop to it before doing so.”

“You saved Jack,” She reminded him of his heroic act as she smoother over his trembling lips with her thumb as she tried to comfort him the same way he did her everytime she nearly spiralled into overthinking negatively, “You didn’t kill Haley, the bad guy did. That’s not your fault, okay?”

Slightly rotating his head so he could press a quick kiss to her palm, he smiled at her, “Thank you for that reminder, sweetheart; I needed that.” 

Feeling the heat creeping up her cheeks she smiled too and grinned before gasping out, “Wait, we’re here already, right?” At his confirming hum, she then quickly said, “We need to get to your boy!”

Aaron found himself frowning not because their moment was cut short, but he was unable to open the door for her and escort her out of the vehicle. Upon reaching the elevator of the building, he noticed Y/N was bouncing on her heels as if she were nervous. Just as he was about to check in on her, the elevator had a soft ping and opened the doors to reveal that they were on their floor. Gently placing his hand behind her back, he led her to their apartment and he hated that his sweaty hands slightly dampened her dress; but she didn’t seem to mind it and instead unknowingly calmed him down by smiling brightly at him.

Upon entering their living space, Aaron could vaguely hear Jess keeping Jack occupied by talking to him. “Jack? Buddy? I’m home,” Aaron called out gently as he made his way by the hallway while Y/N settled by their couch as she didn’t want to intrude any more than she already had.

Almost instantly the sound of pitter patter of tiny feet, “Dad!” Jack ran towards his father’s embrace and Aaron opened his arms as he allowed his son to nuzzle into his neck and carry him. “How are you feeling, bud? Aunt Jess said you couldn’t go to sleep?”

He rubbed his eyes with his hands as he frowned, “Yes, had a nightmare, dad. I was so scared I couldn’t get back to sleep with you.” As Jack laid down his head on his father’s shoulder that’s when he noticed a pretty girl sitting. “Who is she, dad?”

Y/N smiled warmly as she waved, Aaron sat him and his son on the armchair near the sofa she was sitting at and mentioned, “This is Y/N, she’s my friend, Jack.”

“Nice to meet you, Jack,” She held out his hand for a shake and while she understood that kids are naturally shy, especially around people they’re unfamiliar with, she was thoroughly surprised when he shook her hand and had a shy smile on his cute little face.

“Hi Y/N, I’m Jack,” When he retracted his hand she took a good look at him before mentioning, “You look like a princess.”

Indulging him she then leaned a little closer and playfully whispered, “Don’t say it out loud, this princess just snuck out to meet with her prince.” Jack giggled at her silly reply and mirrored her actions and came a little closer, “And? Where is he? Did you get your happily ever after?”

“Not yet,” She replied as she shyly smiled and took a quick glance at Aaron, “The story isn’t done yet. But you do know what a princess needs? A knight of shining armour who can be her best friend! Can we be friends, Jack?”

Looking up at his father, he shot Aaron a questioning look and inquired, “I know Y/N’s your friend but can I be her friend too?” Feeling his heart warm up at the way how gentle and considerate Y/N was to Jack — knowing that she couldn’t automatically assume Jack will see her as a friend and instead she’d have to earn it — paired with Jack’s interest in getting to know her, he smiled down at his son as he steadied his grip on his growing toddler who seemed to be wiggling a little at the excitement of having a new friend, “I’m more than alright with that, Jack. But it’s up to you, okay, bud?”

Nodding at his father before facing Y/N once more, Jack showed her his toothy grin that came out every time his father told him a silly joke before concluding, “I’d love to be your knight friend, Y/N. Does that mean we’ll go on adventures?”

Giggling and clapping her hands in delight, Y/N nodded before calming down and saying, “We sure can, Sir Jack! But maybe after you’ve had a good night’s sleep? That way we both will be energised and ready for whatever adventure comes our way?”

Right on cue, Jack let out a little yawn that Aaron partially thought Y/N induced out of him by mentioning he had to sleep, “Okay, I can’t wait for our adventure already!”

“After a good night’s sleep, okay, bud? I’m gonna put you to bed now,” Jack didn’t fight his father much and instead curled his arms around his neck, signalling that he wanted to be carried back to bed. As Aaron stood up, Jack unclasped one of his hands and waved at Y/N and smiled, “Bye, princess Y/N.”

“Sweet dreams, Sir Jack.”

Once the two men disappeared into the hall, Jessica came into view and walked towards her. Taking initiative Y/N reached out for her hand and introduced herself, “Hi, I’m Y/N. Aaron mentioned you were Jack’s aunt.” 

Shaking her hand, she confirmed, “Yeah, I’m Jessica. I’m Jack’s mom’s sister. Did he mention Haley to you?”

A sincere, sombre expression washed over her face as Y/N pulled Jess in for a hug, “He did, and I’m so sorry about what happened to her. From what he’s told me, Haley was such a lovely soul.” Noticing that Jess tensed slightly at the hug but relaxed because she didn’t realise how good a hug can be from someone earnest; which is why Jess was puzzled when they pulled away and Y/N had a frown. “I didn’t ask first before hugging you, sorry ‘bout that. My family did always say I was such a big hugger.”

“Don’t worry about it,” The blonde woman reassured her as she reached out and held Y/N’s hand, “I appreciated the hug and your kind words.” Beaming brightly at that, she looked down at their hands and her sharp eye couldn’t miss the blouse Jess was wearing and noticed, “Are you wearing Nanette Lepore?” Taking her aback, Jess then had her mouth open in surprise as she was unsure how to respond to that. Y/N, however, took this opportunity to babble on, “You have a good eye! She really shocked everyone when she revealed that her fall spring collection was mostly going to be perfumes but I was really excited to buy one, but shipping costs are a pain in the butt.”

“I’m sorry but our conversation took quite a turn here,” Jess tried to steer their conversation and Y/N smiled as she explained, “Oh sorry, I get so excited when the topic is fashion and all that. I work at a boutique, always thinking about designing my own clothes, but I don’t know.”

It was then that Aaron walked in the room, “Sorry for the delay, Jack requested quite a few stories tonight.” Placing a hand on his date’s shoulder and facing Jess with a tight-lipped smile, “Jess, I appreciate you looking out for Jack tonight. I was out on a date with Y/N earlier and I hope that it won’t  cause too much of an issue between us.”

Jess appreciated Aaron’s vulnerability at the moment as she knew how bad her brother-in-law’s mindset and confidence was following Haley’s passing. He was deep in his belief that he was unable to open up to someone and if he ever did, they’d walk out on him after having a good, long conversation with him. Reaching out to rub his forearm that she couldn't  help but notice was colder than usual before smiling, “I know, Aaron. And can I say just how lovely Y/N is.”

“Oh oh, before I forget,” Y/N reached for her bag and fished for something and made her way back over to them and handed a card to Jess, “Next time, please do swing by in the boutique. I’d love to give you some clothes that will really go well with your style! Plus, it’d be fun just chatting up with you and there’s a cute little cafe nearby too.”

Taking the calling card and looking at it first before pocketing it, Jess smiles as she hugs Aaron and gives the same affection to Y/N before parting ways, “I’ll definitely give you a call when I can swing by, okay? Enjoy your evening, guys.”

As she was putting on her coat and slinged her bag over her shoulder she looked at Aaron, “Oh and Aaron?” The man raised his eyebrows and just as he was about to ask what’s wrong Jess winked at her, “I think you found yourself a keeper.”

With that, Jess allowed the two lovebirds their privacy, the two snuggled with each other on the couch but just as they made each other comfortable Y/N looked up at Aaron and had another confused pout, “What did Jess mean when she said you found a keeper? Did you lose a tupperware container?”

Aaron chuckled lightly at her question before placing a gentle kiss on her forehead and shrugged, “I’m not too sure too, sweetheart. I’ll ask her the next time she swings by.”

Deciding to let go of the topic, she then nuzzled her cheek into his chest as her hand mindlessly drew random shapes on his chest; it was Aaron that broke the silence by apologising, “I’m sorry our first date didn’t exactly go as planned. I’ll make it up to you next time, I promise.”

Looking up at him through her lashes she smiled at him and gently shook her head, “It’s okay, Aarbear. I had fun at the food truck festival. If I only knew I was going to be meeting sweet boy Jack, I’d buy him a few cotton candy flavours.”

“I’m sure your sweet personality made up for the lack of treats you gave him, sweetheart,” He tickled her sides gently to elicit giggles from her and when she did he wished he recorded it as it was such a joyous sound, “Besides, he will be looking forward to some princess-knight adventures you two will be having.”

“Is that okay with you though? I’ve read some stories where kids don’t like it when their parents date someone else. I don’t wanna come across as evil or anything,” She worried and now she stopped her movements and just looked at Aaron with worried eyes. 

This time it was Aaron who had his hand rubbing her back gently to coax her back into her relaxed state, “Sweetheart, I wouldn’t worry about that. Did you see how at ease Jack was when you were talking to him earlier? I don’t see any scenario where he would treat you unkindly and you to him.”

Nodding her head softly she then leaned against his shoulder once more as she said, “Okay, but if he ever tells me or you that he needs some space from me, I’m gonna do it. And you can’t stop me from doing it.”

Humming as a reply, Aaron appreciated how Y/N was respectful of Jack’s boundaries. They were basking in a comfortable silence before Y/N asked, “Did you really have a great time with me, Aar?”

“Of course,” Came his immediate reply, “Did I give the impression that I didn’t?” He felt calm when she gently shook her head and sighed out before sadly recollecting, “No, you didn’t. But I just went on dates before where it ended up with them just calling it a night right away. They’d mutter under their breath that they can’t handle being around me for any longer.”

Her quiet sniffles had him fearing that she thought this was how their relationship too was gonna go; choosing to reassure her, he lifted her chin with his hooked finger and looked serious yet loving as he spoke, “I’m sorry to hear you’ve been on terrible dates with terrible boys. But let me reassure you that I do not, in any way, think of you in that way. Can I tell you a secret?”

Looking at him with curious eyes she nodded as he took his queue to reveal to her, “You bring so much happiness and joy in my life. I don’t think you can ever be those mean things that they said. In fact, I think you’re all I could ever need and want.”

Having to bite back her smile as she tried to not show how his words affected her she smiled and leaned in to press a kiss on his cheek, “You’re too sweet to me, Aaron.” She bit her lip before continuing her train of thought, “Would it be too soon to say that I like you a lot? Like, I know it’s only been nearly two weeks since we’ve talked to each other but you make me so happy. Whenever I get a text from you I smile so wide, it even got to the point where Phoebe has to tell me to stop smiling and giggling too much because it might creep out other customers.”

Laughing along her story as she did so, he shook his head as he shared, “I feel what you mean, sweetheart. I have to be careful of my reactions everytime my phone rings because of you. Which is hard to do around profilers.”

“Wait, profilers? Is that the ones who try to understand the bad guys or the ones who just do the research on how to find the bad guy?”

Chuckling as he found her confusion unfortunately adorable he clarified, “We do a little bit of both, sweetheart.” She gasps out loud as she frowns, “You do both? That sounds exhausting!”

“Well thinking of you does make me feel less tired, sweetheart,” Rubbing her cheek softly as he took in her features led him to focus on her lips that he had thought about kissing ever since they met, “Would it be too soon if I told you I wanted to kiss you, sweetheart?”

“Not at all,” Came her instantaneous reply, “I’d love for you to kiss me, Aar.” 

And with her consent he gently pulled her in softly by the cheek, tightening his hold on her without hurting her and slanted his lips overs. Feeling her smile into the kiss as she held onto his shoulders, bringing him even closer to her. Their lips felt warm and like puzzles fitting into place, after both of their initial shyness they both opened their mouths and allowed their tongues to entangle in a sweet dance as their hands took in every part of themselves that were new to each other. 

The couple poured all of the unspoken feelings they both were too frightened to share — all the premature love and companionship — was made evident by their sweet kiss that felt natural. Despite her unwillingness to do so, she had to slowly detach herself from his lips as she had to gasp for breath. Her fingers ended up playing with the short hairs at the nape of his neck and while she separated from his lips, she couldn’t pull away from his hair as she looked up at him, “That might be the best first kiss I’ve ever had with someone.”

Pleased with her conclusion, Aaron quickly littered sweet pecks all throughout her face before placing a long, loving kiss on her lips before nodding in agreement, “And the best part about it is that that’ll be just the first of our many kisses, sweetheart.”

[weemssapphic]

Hi :) I have a Larissa x reader request, feel no pressure to do this if u don’t want to and ofc u can mix it up and stuff <3

I’ve had this song from mean girls stuck in my head all week and I was wondering if you could perhaps write a young!larissa x young!reader fic based on this song? For example, Larissa wanted readers attention so she changed herself to be more like the popular girlies (perhaps morticia?) or asked reader to tutor her in a subject to spend more time w/ them only to find out that reader preferred her before she changed herself.

The song ends in angst but the fic could be however you like ofc. Anyways I just love the idea of Larissa being like cady from mean girls, tish being like Regina and reader being like Aaron.

If u do end up doing this- thank u sm 🥹 and if u don’t wanna, don’t worry :) I love ur work and I’m happy to read anything u write 💘

a/n: thank you again for the request! i really really hope this did it justice because damn, was i excited to write this! even though the song ends on an angsty note, this fic will have a happy ending <3

young!Larissa Weems x young!fem!reader {other pairings: references to (young!)Morticia Frump x reader, Morticia x Gomez}

words: ~6.1k (oops)

warnings/content: slight angst with a fluffy ending, Larissa is adorably shy, Morticia is possessive as shit, sapphic yearning

You Don’t Have to Pretend With Me

A light breeze passed through the quad - the last days of summer were slowly waning, giving way to cooler autumn weather. The colder air raised the hairs on your arm and you felt Morticia’s arm slink loosely around your waist, her warm palm coming to rest on your forearm and gently stroking the skin there. 

“Are you cold? Gomez, give her your jacket,” she snapped her fingers at the boy, who immediately began to shrug off his blazer at the command.

“Tish, I’m fine,” you soothed, leaning into her touch, your eyes darting subconsciously over to her roommate, Larissa. Her eyes bore holes into the stone surface of the table as she twisted her fingers in her lap. You shifted in Morticia’s grip and gently kicked at Larissa’s shins under the table, causing her to jump in surprise. A smirk graced your lips at the blush that crept up her cheeks - you’d noticed more often lately that the taller blonde was rather shy around you, and you couldn’t help but tease her a bit. You loved how easily you were able to fluster her, adored the pinkish hue that would overtake her face, a bit like your own personal sunset.

“Earth to Larissa. Are you with us?”

“Sorry, I must’ve zoned out for a moment,” she mumbled, smiling in such a dorky way that had you struggling to suppress your swooning.

“Morticia and I are going shopping on Sunday, you wanna come?” Larissa’s eyes lit up and she nodded, soft blonde curls bouncing on her shoulders. 

You felt the arm around your waist tighten possessively and bit your lip. Your relationship with Morticia was, in a word, complicated. You’d been dating on and off for around a year now, though most of that time was admittedly off. You’d most recently decided you were better off as good friends, but sometimes Morticia’s flirtatious and rather possessive side still came out to play.

But Larissa, she was different… where Morticia was a little overwhelming, always in your personal space, Larissa was reserved, held back. Where Morticia loved to show off, Larissa expressed her pride quietly. Larissa was always so soft and reassuring, showing you so much compassion and empathy whenever you’d confided in each other. She was intelligent and quick-witted and knew how to use it to her advantage. And god, she was breathtakingly beautiful…

The bell rang, signaling the end of your lunch break. Thanking the heavens that you had a free period, you sighed and leaned into Morticia’s casual embrace to shield yourself from another cold breeze, waving goodbye to Larissa and Gomez as they headed off to their next class together. 

—

As soon as he was sure he was out of earshot of you and Morticia, Gomez stopped dead in his tracks, nearly causing Larissa to stumble over his much shorter figure. 

“Gomez, what are you-”

“Larissa, you like her, yes?”

“Who are you-” Larissa’s eyes went wide, then her face flushed as she realized to whom Gomez was referring. Of course he’d caught on - the boy was no fool when it came to romance, and he’d caught her staring at you when she thought you weren’t looking more than once. 

“Yes,” she relented with a huff and an eye roll. “But it doesn’t matter, it’s not like I compare to Morticia anyway.” There was a hint of sadness in her voice, her blue eyes wavered a bit and she cast them to the floor. She was not going to cry, not in front of Gomez.

“Larissa, how could she not love you?!” Gomez lifted Larissa’s chin to hold her gaze and she rolled her eyes at the boy. 

“What do you want?” She narrowed her eyes at him, critically searching his face for any signs of mischief - he’d never been this kind to her, she suspected he mostly hung out with you guys to get closer to Morticia. 

Gomez let out a long sigh. “It’s obvious you have eyes for Y/N. And I’ve been trying to court Tish for a while now. Both can’t happen if they’re still all over each other. And I’d like to ask Tish to the Rave’n this year.”

“Okay… what does this have to do with me?”

“You have to distract Y/N.”

Larissa snorted. “So that you can make a move on Morticia. Right. And how do you suppose I do that, Gomez? Morticia’s all over her.”

“She’s very good at botany. She could tutor you. You get close, spend some time together, just the two of you. Give me time to woo Morticia.”

“But I don’t need a tutor, I’m the best in our class…”

“You don’t have to need one,” Gomez rolled his eyes. “Just pretend to need one.”

Larissa chewed her bottom lip as she considered his proposal. Just then, your melodic laughter floated from the quad and caught her attention. She looked over his shoulder just in time to see Morticia pull you onto her lap and tuck your hair behind your ear. Her stomach dropped, a familiar twinge of jealousy burning bright in her chest, licking at her ribcage like an untamed flame.

“Fine,” she snapped. “I’ll do it. This better be worth it.” 

— 

“Tish,” you cried out between giggles as the dark-haired girl pulled you onto her lap and brushed your hair off your face, tucking it behind your ear. 

“Yes, mon cher?” She raised her eyebrows and grinned down at you, causing you to blush deeply and look away. Your eyes met Larissa’s across the quad. She seemed upset somehow, and you offered her a sheepish smile. Even with a frown on those pouty red lips, you thought she was the most beautiful girl at Nevermore, and your stomach did a backflip imagining it was Larissa pulling you into her lap, not Morticia. Maybe if you could somehow get her alone, if she weren’t so damn shy around you…

~~~

Sunday rolled around and that meant it was finally time to go shopping with Morticia and Larissa. Once you were ready, you burst into the girl’s shared dorm room, a wide grin spread on your face. 

“Mooorning, ladies, are we ready?” You sing-songed, plopping down on Morticia’s bed and watching as she sauntered over to give you a hug. 

“Nearly,” she said. “If that one finishes her makeup soon.” She jerked her thumb at Larissa who sat at her vanity in the corner, applying her lipstick. Larissa paused mid-stroke, looking mildly annoyed, and furrowed her brows. 

“Take your time,” you cooed from across the room, before an argument could ensue. “You’ll look gorgeous.” 

Larissa’s cheeks reddened, she quickly averted her gaze and focused on her reflection in the mirror, a slight tremor overcoming her hands. Morticia sighed dramatically and sat down next to you on the bed, handing you her brush in a silent command to brush her hair, which you happily took over for her, while keeping an eye on the blonde from the corner of your eye. 

Ten minutes later you were out the door, following the roommates down the winding staircase of Ophelia Hall, trying to keep yourself from staring at Larissa. She looked stunning today, her long, silvery blonde hair pulled away from her face, curled into an elegant ponytail. Whenever she pulled back her hair, it emphasized her smooth, porcelain cheekbones and arched brows, drawing attention to the sapphire pools of her eyes… And then there was the matter of her style, so different from Morticia’s and even your own. A high-cut white turtleneck, with a long gold skirt and a matching coat. Oh shit, now you were staring. You coughed and covered your face to hide your blush and followed your friends outside.

The taxi ride to Burlington was a bit tense, as the cab driver was suspicious of outcasts, and Morticia’s goth aesthetic coupled with Larissa’s impressive height never failed to make them stick out. The three of you breathed a collective sigh of relief as you were all but dumped outside the mall entrance.

Morticia set the pace for the day, as she usually did, dragging the two of you in and out of various shops until she found something worth trying on, which was how you found yourself sitting on a chair in a dressing room, waiting for Morticia to try on outfit after outfit. For each dress, she gave you quite the show, twirling around and showing off, tossing you a wink and blowing kisses in your direction. You humored her, giving her the “oohs” and “ahhs” she so desperately desired, telling her which dresses were “simply made for you!”

Little did you know, Larissa was watching from the sidelines, absolutely seething. Seeing how you responded to Morticia, to the dark, provocative things Morticia tried on… so completely the opposite of the conservative, drab things she herself normally wore. If she was going to get your attention, she was going to have to step up her game.

“Larissa, did you find anything?” You asked her softly, noticing that the blonde was lost in her own thoughts. 

“I did, in fact,” she answered rather smugly, brushing past you towards a changing room and all but slamming the door behind her.

Minutes later, the door to Larissa’s changing room opened. She emerged and your breath caught in your throat. 

“Rissa?” She looked… different, that was for sure. The sleeveless black gown was a stark contrast to her alabaster skin, you racked your brain but you weren’t sure you’d ever seen her wear all black before. It clung to her curves like a second skin, leaving little to the imagination, bringing a flush to your cheeks. Her breasts all but spilled out the top - you were sure you’d heard her complain before about Morticia wearing similar low-cut pieces.

“Do you like it?” She was breathless and looked very eager, a shy smile plastered on her face, cheeks dusted pink, and you thought it was the cutest smile you’d ever seen - you couldn’t possibly tell her you thought it was a bit… out of place on her. Maybe she wanted to branch out a bit? And you had to admit you didn’t really mind the extra bit of skin showing. You bit your lip and nodded, relishing in the grin that spread across her face at your approval.

“God, I’m exhausted after all that shopping,” you giggled a short while later, as the three of you stood in line at the food court. “I can’t wait to sit down and eat.”

“Rest your head on my shoulder, mon cher, it’s the perfect height,” Morticia cooed, drawing you into her and allowing you to rest against her. You hummed absentmindedly and Larissa’s shoulders stiffened from where she towered over the two of you. You eyed her with interest, wondering why she was suddenly so tense, but you didn’t have time to linger on the thought as Morticia pushed you up to the counter to order lunch for the three of you.

~~~

You were always the first to arrive to botany class, and as such you saved your friends' seats around you. Soon after, Morticia arrived, Gomez trailing behind her like a lost puppy. She slid into the empty chair next to you and Gomez took a seat at the table behind you. 

“Where’s Larissa?” You craned your neck towards the door, wondering if you’d somehow missed her. 

Morticia let out a groan and pinched the bridge of her nose. “She’s having some sort of identity crisis. She’s coming.” She sounded annoyed, and just as you were about to ask her what exactly she meant by “identity crisis”, Larissa walked into the classroom.

It quickly became apparent what Morticia had meant. The girl had traded her signature cherry-red lipstick for something darker, a plum color similar to what Morticia generally opted for, and even her eye makeup was considerably darker than usual. She also seemed… shorter somehow? You couldn’t quite place it, but she didn’t seem to tower over everyone quite as much as she usually did. She took her place behind you, next to Gomez, and you turned around, worry marring your features. 

“Larissa, are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be okay?” Her eyes widened imperceptibly, brows knitting together as she offered you an unnerving grin.

“It’s just… yeah. Nevermind. You look good,” you offered weakly, smiling and turning back around as your botany teacher, Ms. Morrison, was starting the lesson.

“Miss Weems, we’re looking at Triphyophyllum peltatum today. Could you be so kind as to tell the class which family this plant belongs to?”

“Umm… is it Droseraceae?”

Ms. Morrison’s brow creased. “Unfortunately, Miss Weems, that is incorrect. I expected better from you.”

You stole a glance at Larissa, who gazed sheepishly down at her desk. It went like this a few more times, Larissa answering questions incorrectly and Ms. Morrison becoming increasingly more annoyed. 

When the bell rang, you felt a hand on your shoulder. Looking up, it belonged to Larissa. She was definitely closer to your height now. Weird. You were brought out of your daze at her next words.

“You’re good at botany, right?” She fiddled nervously with the hem of her blazer.

“I mean, I think I’m pretty decent, yeah.”

“Well… clearly I’m pretty shit at it. There’s no way I’m passing the midterm like this. Do you think you could tutor me this semester?”

You were taken aback by the request - you’d always thought Larissa was intelligent, way smarter than you were, she was top of nearly every class. You’d never dreamed of having to tutor her in anything. But judging by today’s lesson she really was struggling, and you would never pass up the opportunity to finally get to spend some one on one time with her - away from Morticia’s prying eyes, no less.

“Of course, Larissa. I would love to. How about you come to my room after dinner, my roommate won’t be there and it’ll be quiet,” you grinned at the flush this brought to Larissa’s face. She agreed and you parted ways, spending the rest of your day with your head in the clouds, daydreaming about your study date with Larissa.

~~~

After dinner you all but ran up to your dorm room. This would be the first time you’d spent time alone with Larissa and even though you knew it was only a study date, you wanted to impress her anyway. You freshened up your makeup and decided to throw on your favorite forest green cardigan, just as you heard a knock on your door.

With a deep breath, you opened the door. Larissa stood before you, her makeup still, well, extremely overdone. She wore a short skirt paired with a black, lacy blouse that had nearly all the buttons undone, drawing attention to her cleavage and the scarlet bra she wore underneath. You gulped and drew your attention back to her face, stepping back a bit to allow Larissa to step into your room and (hopefully) giving you time to cool the blush on your cheeks.

“Make yourself comfortable. Do you want something to drink? Tabitha convinced Ms. Morrison to let us get a mini fridge in here and we just stocked it up last weekend. Or I could make you tea or something?”

“Tea would be lovely,” Larissa smiled shyly, sitting gingerly at the edge of your bed and playing with the hem of her skirt. 

You plugged in your electric kettle and waited for the water to boil, a comfortable silence falling over the dorm room as you prepared two mugs. The tea bags were on a shelf next to your desk, just out of your reach, and you grunted as you pushed yourself onto your toes, stretching out to grasp for the box.

“Rissa,” you complained loudly, turning towards her and giving her your best pitiful pout. “I’m too short. Can you reach the tea bags for me?”

Larissa made to stand up, then hesitated a moment, hovering over the edge of the bed. “Umm… I don’t know. I… yeah I’ll see…” she stepped over to the shelf, reaching towards the box but her arm wasn’t quite long enough. “Sorry… I can just climb on the desk though, it’s fine.” She seemed frustrated with herself as she clambered up in order to reach the shelf and pull down the box of tea bags for you.

You took the box from her, eyeing her as she slipped back down and stood there awkwardly as if waiting to be dismissed. 

“Did you shapeshift?” you asked quietly, watching Larissa out of the corner of your eye as you poured the boiling water into the mugs. Larissa nodded, folding her arms across her chest and seemingly caving in on herself, eyes trained on the water kettle in your hand.

You nodded back, not wanting to make her more uncomfortable, and handed her one of the mugs, a white mug with a rainbow unicorn. 

“Soooo… Larissa Weems is bad at botany?” you teased, pinching her side and moving to sit on your bed, curling your legs under you and patting the empty spot at your side.

Larissa looked like she was about to argue, then thought better of it and swallowed thickly, coming to sit beside you. 

“Y-yes, well I took a look at the homework that’s due next week and I don’t understand any of it, I’m afraid.”

“Then let’s start there,” you gave her a reassuring smile and grabbed your textbook from where you’d tossed it at the foot of the bed earlier, scooting closer to her until your thighs pressed together and you could feel her warm breath on your cheek. 

As the evening wore on, you’d gotten a fair bit of studying done, but the botany textbook was soon discarded on the floor of your dorm room. The two of you were laying on your backs, giggling about something that had happened in class the other day, when you decided you were going to be brave.

You reached out until you felt Larissa’s hand, warm against your own. You threaded your fingers between hers, lifting her hand up and tracing the faint lines on her palm with the pad of your thumb. You could hear her breath hitch next to you, which only spurred you on. 

“Larissa?” You turned your head to face her, waiting until your gazes locked, and for a moment the air around you stilled, your stomach turning pleasantly.

“Yeah?” There was a beat of silence, the only sound was the rustling of some leaves outside the window. Larissa’s eyes were wide, her lips parted slightly, warm breath coming out in ragged puffs.

The door to your room slammed open as your roommate stepped over the threshold and tossed her bag unceremoniously at the foot of her bed. You groaned, slamming your eyes shut and giving Larissa’s hand an apologetic squeeze. 

“Y/N, what are you - oh, shit, I’m sorry!” Tabitha’s eyes widened as her gaze fell to your hand, fingers still intertwined with Larissa’s. “I thought you’d be done by now, it’s nearly 2 am.”

“It’s fine,” you pushed yourself up on your elbows and gave Tabitha a meek smile. “I didn’t realize it was that late.”

Tabitha offered you a salacious smirk as she crossed over to bed and plopped down, crossing her legs. “So what have you two lovebirds been up to?”

“Tabitha!” You tossed your pillow at her head and she let out a hearty chuckle, catching it and grinning at you, but saying no more.

Larissa was frozen in place next to you, cheeks rosy, twirling a lock of hair between her fingers.

“Can I walk you back to your room?” You slid to the edge of your bed and offered her your hand, praying you weren’t overstepping, grateful when she beamed up at you and took said hand.

Throwing a glare back at Tabitha (who had the decency to at least pretend to look ashamed), you guided Larissa up the two flights of stairs to her dorm room, apologizing profusely for your roommates utter lack of manners. 

“It’s fine,” Larissa giggled, her hand warm and so very soft in your own. “She seems funny, and like she cares about you.”

“Yeah, she’s alright I guess,” you rolled your eyes playfully, having arrived at the door to Larissa’s room. “So, umm… I was thinking maybe we could meet at the Weathervane after class on Thursday? You know, to study… or whatever.”

“Or whatever?” Larissa’s smile unnerved you and your gaze dropped to the ground, you suddenly felt a bit lame for even suggesting it. Would she even want to go with you? Didn’t she have better things to do? “I can’t wait.”

You looked up, meeting sapphire eyes that danced with excitement. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

~~~

You stood in line at the Weathervane, humming quietly to yourself as you waited for the barista to take the order of the businessman in front of you. A pair of gloved hands came to rest over your eyes, causing you to yelp and jump out of your skin. 

“Guess who?” The smooth, English accent of the low voice in your ear gave her away in an instant.

“Riss,” you grinned, pulling at her wrists. “Don’t scare me like that!”

“Sorry, it was too tempting!” Larissa pulled you into a one-armed hug, which you gladly reciprocated, enjoying the closeness to the object of your affections.

“What can I get for you?” The barista - Kevin, if his name tag was anything to go by - eyed the two of you warily. It was no secret the disdain that the normies held for outcasts, and even though you were used to it in your daily interactions here in Jericho, it still stung a bit.

“I’ll have a cappuccino. Larissa?”

“Could I get a hot chocolate please?”

Kevin nodded, ringing up your order. “That’ll be $6.00 even.”

“Allow me,” you swatted away Larissa’s hands as she reached for her purse and proceeded to pay for the order, then ushered her towards a booth at the back of the café. 

“Thanks for paying, you didn’t have to,” Larissa’s voice was quiet, as if she hoped you wouldn’t hear her, and you reached out to hold her hand across the table. “I wanted to,” your thumb stroked the back of her hand and she ducked her head, looking up at you through mascara-coated eyelashes. Your heart began to thump erratically in your chest and you considered closing the distance between the two of you as a shadow appeared next to the table. Kevin cleared his throat, awkwardly placing your mugs down in front of you and shuffling away.

You sat back with a huff, groaning internally at another moment lost to some external intrusion. Even when Morticia wasn’t there, the world seemed hell-bent on ruining every intimate moment you had with Larissa.

The girl in question took a sip of her hot chocolate, setting the mug down between the two of you and pushing it across the table.

“You have to try it, it’s the best I’ve ever had!”

Your gaze flicked down to the mug, eyes drawn to the lipstick mark at the rim. It was the exact shade of plum that Morticia always wore, you noted. You picked up the mug, gingerly, as if it would shatter in your hands. For a brief moment, you wondered if you should drink from that exact spot. Be daring, you told yourself. Your pulse skyrocketed at the thought. How would Larissa react? You locked eyes with the blonde, who watched you eagerly.

You chickened out, placing your lips on the opposite side of the rim and taking a sip.

“Mm, yeah, it’s really good!” Larissa grinned smugly, clearly proud that she’d been right to make a good recommendation.

You pulled out your botany textbook, deciding you might as well do what you’d come here for and at least help the struggling girl a little bit. She was a quick learner, which was good, considering you were finding it harder and harder to focus with her leaning across the table - her breath ghosting over your face, her perfume clouding your senses, her cleavage on full display. 

Your mugs were long empty and the evening crowd was slowly clearing out of the café. The sky outside the window was casting hues of orange and pink on the table, on Larissa’s porcelain skin and silver hair. She looked ethereal in this light, her eyes glistening, leaving you entranced. Kevin was starting to sweep the floors, his gaze flitting in your direction every so often - probably a sign you should be getting up to leave soon.

“I think he wants us to leave,” you sucked your bottom lip between your teeth and eyed Kevin as he moved to clean the espresso machine, his eyes wandering again over to your booth. You were the only two customers left.

“I don’t want today to be over,” Larissa admitted with a sigh, pulling your attention back to the striking blonde.

“I don’t either…” It was now or never. “Larissa… do you think maybe you’d want to go on a date with me?” You held your breath as you waited for a reply.

“Like… a real date?” Larissa’s eyes shone with wonder, her tone was hushed, as if she was afraid you’d take it back.

“Yeah, no studying or anything like that. A real date.”

Larissa beamed. “I would love to.”

You let out a shaky breath. “Perfect. Maybe we should get out of here now though, before Kevin over there bans us from the Weathervane permanently or something. I would hate for you to have to miss out on your hot chocolate.” 

Your teasing earned you a hearty laugh and Larissa took your hand as the two of you darted from the café.

~~~

Larissa took your breath away from where she stood at the center of the quad. Her hair hung long and pin-straight down her back, her plump lips were painted a shade of deep purple, her sapphire eyes dark and sultry. Today she’d opted to wear the black gown she’d tried on when you’d gone shopping with Morticia, and you needed a moment to tamp down your blush before making your presence known to her.

“Hi,” she replied breathlessly.

“You ready?” She nodded and you led her out of the school and down the winding path to the lake. Butterflies erupted in your belly as the back of your hand brushed against Larissa’s, and your heart constricted in the most pleasant way as Larissa took your hand in her own.

You walked in companionable silence until you reached the docks. Once there, you tossed down your bag and sat at the edge of the dock, pulling at Larissa’s hand and urging her to sit next to you. 

“Thanks again for tutoring me,” Larissa said softly. 

“Of course,” you scooted closer to her, hearing her breath hitch as your thighs met. “I get to spend more time with you this way. And I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I think you’re really beautiful.”

Larissa’s gaze met yours, hope swirling in those sapphire pools. “You do?” Her voice was barely above a whisper. 

“I do,” you confirmed, bravely tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, feeling her shiver beneath your touch.

“Sorry, it’s a bit chilly,” Larissa giggled, and you took the opportunity to pull her into you, rubbing your palms gently over her bare arms.

“I mean, yeah, you’re barely wearing anything,” you retorted, burying your face in her neck, dangerously close to her cleavage, breathing in her intoxicating scent. It completely overwhelmed you, made you dizzy with desire, and you had to place a hand on Larissa’s thigh to steady yourself.

“I mean, apparently it worked,” she leaned back slightly to wink at you, causing your heart to flutter. “Like pretending I needed a tutor.”

“Wait… what? Pretending?” What did she mean pretending?

“Yeah…” Larissa twisted her fingers in her lap. “I-I pretended to be bad at botany to get you to talk to me.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. You’d never thought Larissa would lie to you like that. Morticia had manipulated you during your relationship, you knew that much, you were even used to it, but Larissa? You thought she was different. 

“Why didn’t you just talk to me?”

“Because of Morticia. Because you were her property.”

“Her property?” That had you seething. You were no one’s property.

“No, shut up, not property-” Larissa’s eyes were wide with panic now, she tried to lay a gentle hand on your arm but you pulled away as if you’d been burned, sitting back on your heels. 

“No, don’t tell me to shut up! You are like a clone of Morticia!”

Larissa’s dark lips fell into a pout, her chin began to wobble. “No, wait - I mean, I just thought you liked that… you like her!”

“I liked you more. The old you. Not whatever this is.” You waved a dismissive hand over Larissa’s form, causing her to shrink back and cross her arms over her chest. You almost felt bad at how insecure she looked, but you were too angry to care.

“Is that why you’re wearing all this? Is that what the makeup is? Because you think I want you to look like Morticia?” you spat out. You’d spent the last year with Morticia, you didn’t want to spend another year with her clone. You’d really liked Larissa the way she was.

Larissa flinched at your tone, at the pure venom dripping from every word. “Morticia looks really good,” she shrugged, eyes downcast, twisting her hair between her fingers as her eyes began to water.

“I don’t care what Morticia looks like. That’s just her style. I liked your style. I liked how you looked.” You stood up, slinging your bag over your shoulder and turning on your heel, before chancing a final glance at the blonde.

“And you know what?” Larissa looked up, watery eyes meeting yours, pale tear tracks streaking her cheeks. “You didn’t need to shapeshift to impress me.” Larissa bit her lip as you stormed off back towards your dorm, not stopping until you were facedown in your bed. You were eternally grateful that Tabitha had chosen that evening to spend the night with her boyfriend (“just in case you and Larissa need some alone time”, she’d said with a wink, you recalled bitterly).

The tears flowed freely then and you allowed yourself to cry into your pillow. You couldn’t believe Larissa had betrayed you like that, that you’d fallen for something so stupid. Of course she was good at botany. She was good at everything - she didn’t need you. And did she really think you were so vain, so shallow, that you only wanted Morticia, that you only wanted Morticia for her aesthetic and her body?

That night, you cried yourself to sleep, wondering how you’d ever face Larissa again. Wondering if she really thought so little of you. Wondering if the Larissa you’d fallen for was gone for good. If she’d want you anymore. If you even wanted her anymore. Your stomach clenched and and your heart ached as sobs racked your body, only stopping when the first rays of morning sunlight began to filter in through your curtains and exhaustion finally overtook your body and threw you into a fitful slumber.

~~~

You’d successfully managed to avoid Larissa for a few days after that, but eventually you had to go to botany class. You were nearly late, and annoyed to find that Morticia hadn’t saved you a seat. Your usual seat was occupied by Gomez, who was doting on your ex-girlfriend - and she was soaking up every bit of attention she was getting. Good for her, she deserves it, you thought, at least she’ll leave me alone for a few days.

The bad news was that this meant you were stuck next to Larissa. She gave you a meek smile as you slid into the seat next to her, which you returned half-heartedly. You were happy to see that at least her face was devoid of makeup, save for some mascara and her signature red lipstick, and that her hair was curled again and pulled back into some fancy updo. 

“Can anyone tell me which plant we’re dealing with here today?” Ms. Morrison asked.

Larissa raised her hand and Ms. Morrison gave her a curt nod.

“Atropa belladonna - deadly nightshade.”

“Hm. Thank you, Miss Weems. Good to have you back.” 

Larissa continued to impress, even correcting your answer at one point as you worked on a group assignment, to which you only responded with a raised eyebrow. Larissa bowed her head and lowered her gaze to her own paper, chewing at her lip to keep from saying anything else.

The rest of the week was rather lonely. Morticia was distracted, having apparently been thoroughly romanced by Gomez. They seemed to spend every free period making out in some corner of the quad, Morticia straddling Gomez’s lap and giving the students of Nevermore Academy quite the show. 

More than anything you wanted to talk to Larissa, but you didn’t know how. It was like every time you were in the same room, your mouth went dry. You were still wary after having been lied to - sure it had come from a good place, she’d wanted to impress you. But by pretending to be a ditzy airhead version of Morticia? Did she really think you were that stupid?

Divine intervention took over and the decision to talk to Larissa was taken off your hands when you were sitting in the quad, reading, knees tucked under your chin, as a shadow appeared behind you.

“Hey.” Your heart clenched as you realized how much you’d missed that soft voice.

“Larissa,” you looked up at the taller girl - she was definitely back to her normal height, as she now towered over you again.

“May I sit?” She crossed her arms defensively over her chest as she waited for a response.

“Of course,” you scooted over to give her more space. She left a few inches between the two of you, and seemed rather stiff.

“Those two won’t leave each other alone, I can barely go back to my room. They’re just so damn loud all the time.” There was a hint of annoyance in Larissa’s tone and you followed her gaze towards Morticia and Gomez, who were enjoying each other’s company on the other side of the quad.

You snorted, closing your book and watching the pair with amusement. “You could always come to my room,” you offered, somewhat unsure about your proposal but knowing that, despite everything, you’d love to spend more time with her.

You heard a sharp intake of breath and turned to watch Larissa’s face carefully - she seemed to be grappling with something.

“I wanted to apologize for the way I acted,” Larissa began timidly, “I made an assumption and it appears I was wrong. I thought you would like me more if I changed myself. I didn’t think I was interesting enough to compete with Morticia, because I’ve always been second best to her. I didn’t think this would be any different.”

“Well I don’t think you’re second best at all… not to me anyway,” you took Larissa’s hand in yours and laced your fingers together. “I fell for you long before you decided to become some sort of weird Morticia clone.” It had slipped out before you knew what you were saying, and a heat rose in your cheeks, all the way to the tips of your ears.

“You fell for me, huh?” Larissa’s cheeks looked just as pink as yours felt.

“Maybe,” you whispered, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

“Then maybe you wouldn’t mind going to the Rave’n with me?” Larissa met your gaze, cocking her head to the side in question.

“Yes! I mean no, no I wouldn’t mind!” You blurted out, internally scolding yourself for seeming so eager. Larissa let out the breath she was holding.

“Be sure to ditch that ghastly makeup though. It may suit Morticia but I much prefer your lipstick.” You winked and Larissa’s lips twitched up into a hesitant smile.

Larissa leaned in, placing a chaste kiss at the corner of your mouth, leaving behind a light stain of red lipstick and causing your heart to flutter pleasantly.

Suddenly, long arms enveloped you and dragged you onto her lap, drawing a loud squeak from your chest.

“Since when has the Larissa Weems gotten so bold?” you teased after regaining your composure. 

Larissa sunk her teeth into her plush lower lip, clearly weighing her next words carefully. “Since I saw Morticia do that and decided I wanted to know what it was like.”

“And?” You were breathless, you were both breathless. 

“I think I could get used to it.”

-

thank you to @afeatherformills for the beta, as well as my gf for swooping in with some last minute ideas to save my ass lmao.

tags for those who may be interested: @orchidsshine @sapphicsbeloved @scumppa @zephyr-is-tired

[skylarmoon71]

Aaron Hotchner (Criminal Minds) Chapter 31

There’s a hollow knock on your door, and you furrow your brows as you open the door.

“I usually make a more gracious entrance, but since we entered the veil things have changed. So I thought I’d be more careful this time around.”

He’s standing there, and you can’t stop yourself. You rush into his arms. He’s startled to say the least.

When you pull back he can see the distress.

“Sweetheart..”

His paternal instincts take control, and he closes the door, usehring you to take a seat.

“What’s wrong, did something happen to Hotchner?” You shake your head.

“Hotch is fine. So is Jack and Hailey. Everyone is fine.”

You’re smiling, and he’s relieved. But you’re still wearing that pained expression. One he’s grown used to. He understands now.

“I wish I could tell you that it gets easier. Seeing him everyday, not being able to remember a thing. I can’t think of any greater pain. I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy. “

“I knew what I was doing. I’ll learn to live with it. “

He knows the reassurance is said so he won't worry.

“Actually dad, there’s something I wanted to ask you. I know you said none of them would remember but Jack he..he remembers everything. He’s also found a way to get through my barrier. It was…just like Hotch used to do.”

Manchester took a pause.

“Are you serious?” You nod.

He looks down.

“That’s incredible. It’s not exactly unheard of. Children are anchors for all kinds of power. Still, this is outside the field of seeing apparitions. He’s able to communicate despite the change in reality.” Manchester swallows.

“If he’s capable of that as a child then…”

It dawned on him that maybe Hotch would regain his memories. When he looks back at you, he stops himself. There was no use in giving you false hope. Especially when you seemed to already be at your limit. Maybe he could give you some practical advice.

“Why not pursue Hotch right now. It’s true that you brought back Hailey, but they are divorced here.”

“I’ve thought about it.”

It didn’t seem right. The whole purpose of this was to give him back his family. There was a chance that he could mend things with his ex wife. If so, you didn’t want to get in between that.

“I think the best thing for me to do is keep my distance. If it comes down to it, I may just end up transferring to a different division.”

“But you love this job, and your team.”

“Isn’t that how the saying goes? If you love something, then you let it go.”

“What jackass came up with that? You think I would have won over your mother with that half baked attitude. “ You smile. This is the first time he’s mentioned her in such a light.

“You know, you never really told me how you snagged mom. I mean she was beautiful. I can’t really see her going for such a gangster.”

“Hey, I was very meek in the old days, you know. “ His defensive reply causes you to laugh.

“To be frank she spent quite a bit of time chasing me. I was unapproachable, and blunt.”

“You, unapproachable, I can’t even picture it.”

“Hah ha, hilarious.”

He’s wearing the biggest smile.

“I hope you don’t have any plans, because this is a long story.”

You pull your legs onto the couch.

“I’ve got the time.”

~~~~~

“I’m sorry I kept him up so long.”

Hailey shook her head.

“It’s alright. Jack loved it. It’s nice having his dad around so often.”

Now that Jack was fast asleep, Hotch took a seat on the couch. They’d fallen into a routine that worked for both of them. Despite the separation, Jack seemed like the balance between them both. Hailey walked over handing him a glass of water, and he took it happily.

“Thank you.” She took a seat and he drank it.

“So, Ms. Black.” Hotch lowered the glass.

“She’s a good agent. Jack is also taken with her. Not something I really saw coming.”

“What about you?”

“Me?” Hotch wasn’t fully sure where this conversation was going.

“You don’t think she’s intriguing.”

“Hailey.” She smacked his shoulder playfully.

“Aaron, we're not teenagers. You can tell me if you’re interested in someone. I won’t block you on facebook.” He smiled at that.

“We work together, I’m also her superior. I’m not sure it would be very professional of me to even entertain that thought.”

“So you’ve thought about it!”

It felt like he was digging himself into a deeper hole. Hailey laughed this time.

“You know, for a profiler, you’re very easy to read.” She said between giggles.

“All jokes aside, I want you to be happy Aaron. I know I never made it easy, but you’ve always been there when it counted. You’re a good person, you deserve to have happiness. Something I couldn’t give to you.”

“I was happy, Hailey. “ His eyes are so sincere.

“I was rarely ever unhappy with you and Jack.” Hailey wipes at her eyes, and she leaned over, pulling him into a hug. He returns it.

“It’s time for you to be happy again. Jack and I will be fine.” 

[ok555ficideas]

Aaron had no idea how he had gotten himself into this mess. His girlfriend broke up with him, his grades started dropping and he was doing a terrible job at the court. The last thing he had no problem with, but Kevin Day took it as a personal offense. 

He started to drug Aaron along with him for night practice and Aaron hated to admit it, but it helped. Helped get him back into focus and helped him move on from Katelyn. He no longer had his heart broken every time he saw her in passing and there was a glint of hope in his chest that maybe they would be able to be friends again. 

He understood her reasons behind ending their relationship, but still missed her and he would take her in his life however she would let him. 

Kevin was starting to be something like his best friend. it took him of gourd, since he despised the guy at the beginning and was still getting annoyed by him on daily basis, but the fucker somehow managed to get close to him and now Aaron could not imagine a life without him. 

That’s why when he saw the petals leave Kevin’s mouth after a dangerous set of coughs he felt his blood run cold. Hanahaki disease was a common thing that took thousands of lives every year before they discovered that there was a cure for it. 

“Who is it?” Aaron whispered after drugging Kevin away from prying eyes into a secluded part of their campus. 

Kevin looked at him with wide eyes and a pained expression painted all over his face. Aaron felt his heart starting to beat faster and his hands started to shake no matter how much he tried to calm himself down. 

“He-,” Kevin’s voice was trembling and Aaron reached out to squeeze his hand in reassurance, “He is the most beautiful man I have ever laid my eyes on.” 

Aaron felt taken aback by it. He suspected that Kevin was not as straight as he claimed to be, but still didn’t know that the striker would admit it so bluntly. 

“He has the most mesmerizing hazel eyes that make my knees go weak and this blonde mop of hair that I want to run my hands through every time I look at him.” Kevin was still talking, but Aaron’s mind grinded to a halt. 

He knew exactly who the other man was describing. Aaron had no idea why he felt his chest tightening at the thought that Kevin was so in love with Andrew that it made him get sick. 

Andrew who did not return his feelings. Andrew who was head over heels in love with Neil and would hate himself if he learnt that he was the reason for Kevin’s potential death. 

“You need to get the surgery.” Aaron blurted out, interrupting Kevin mid-sentence. 

Sentence, which he didn’t hear anything from. 

Kevin’s face fell and Aaron could swear he felt his heart breaking at the sight. After a moment the striker’s expression morphed into one of understanding. He knew, because of course he did. Everyone with eyes could see how Andrew was looking at his partner, there was no way he could return anyone else’s feelings. 

“I will make an appointment.” Kevin avoided Aaron’s eyes. 

He was probably embarrassed about admitting that he was in love with Aaron’s brother. 

“I will drive you to the hospital.” 

Kevin only nodded and walked away to his next class.

Hanahaki disease idea for a Kevaron fic.

Imagine Kevin falling for Aaron so badly that he gets sick. He tries to tell Aaron, but the idiot thinks that he is describing Andrew and not him and tells him to get the surgery.

Kevin wakes up with no memory of Aaron and that’s when Aaron realizes that he was wrong.

[hellzabeth]

i have opinions about The Prince of Egypt musical adaption and you’re going to listen to them: An Essay

So, quick disclaimer: The Prince of Egypt is one of my favourite movies of all time. The casting, the music, the animation, I think it’s one of the top-tier movies that have ever been made. I went into seeing the London West End production of PoE with a full expectation that nothing I saw on stage would ever live up to how much I love the movie. I was fully aware there are plenty of limitations to what can be shown live on a stage with human actors and props.

That being said, I was enormously disappointed with how the whole thing was handled.

The Good

Now before I launch into a whole tirade of what I didn’t like about the production, it does behoove me to say what I think they did do well. 


The casting of the role of Moses was done fantastically, as was Miriam, Tzipporah, and Yocheved. The swings and the ensemble were really engaged and well placed, going through lots of quick changes to go from Hebrews to Egyptians to Midianites and back.


The two Egyptian queens, wifes of Seti and Ramses, are actually given names, lines, and character beyond being simply tacked onto their respective kings. We get to see how they feel about the events happening around them, and there’s even a scene where Ramses meets his wife and courts her, whereas in the movie, she stands in the background and says nothing. This is one of the areas I was hoping the musical, which would naturally have a longer run-time, would expand on, and I was pleased to see the opportunity was taken.

Light projections on enormous curtains were used to very good effect, taking us instantly inside the walls of the palace and then out to the desert. 


Over all, the work was really put in to be engaging and emotional, and the orchestra really worked to deliver the right musical beats.


One of two stand out scenes as being done very well was the opening “Deliver Us”, which included a bone-chilling moment of Egyptians separating a mother and her baby, with her screams as she’s dragged off-stage, and the blood on the guard’s sword. It really brings home the fear as Yocheved tries to lead Aaron and Miriam to the river with her, not to mention Yocheved’s actress nailed the lullaby. 


The second was at the other end of the show, “When You Believe” was beautifully performed by the whole cast, though it was somewhat stunted by what came before...

The Bad

Oh boy.

So the main problem with this show is not the music, not the staging, not even that sometimes the ensemble was a little off-beat (the lai-lai-lai section in Though Heaven’s Eyes comes to mind). Any mistakes there can all be forgiven, since sometimes things just happen in live performance, someone’s a bit off or something’s just not possible to do on the budget allotted. 


The problem is in the script.

The Prince of Egypt movie is a story that stands not only on the shoulders of its fantastic music and visuals, but also on its emotive retelling and portrayal of the characters within - mainly Moses and Ramses. And while the stage musical does spend a lot of time with the two mains, it neglects two other, incredibly important characters.

Pharaoh Seti, and God. 


In the movie, Seti strikes an intimidating figure. He is old, hardened, and wise in the ways of ruling his kingdom - and is voiced by Patrick Stewart, who brings his A-game to the role. Both Moses and Ramses admire him and look up to him immensely as young men, and the relationship he has with both of them deeply informs their characters as the story progresses. It’s from Seti that Moses learns that taking responsibility for your actions is the respectable thing to do (and later, the true horror of having your idol turn out to be not what you think), and it’s from Seti that Ramses takes a huge inferiority complex.

There are two lines that Seti gets in the movie, one spoken to Moses, and one to Ramses. These two lines define Moses and Ramses’ actions later on in the story:

To Ramses - “One weak link can break the chain of a mighty dynasty!” To Moses - “Oh my son... they were only slaves.”

Guess which two lines are absent from the musical?

One Weak Link is turned into an upbeat song, rather than shouted at a terrified and cowed young Ramses. Instead of being openly a traumatic, internalised moment of negative character development for Ramses, it’s treated as a general philosophy that Seti passes down to his son. Instead of a judgement that is hung over Ramses’ head like a sword of Damocles, lingering in his mind through the whole story and coming up in a shouted argument with Moses later, it’s said and then moved on from. 


The “they were only slaves” comment, on the other hand, is absent entirely. This changes Moses’ relationship with Seti enormously, as well as his relationship with the Hebrew people. Upon finding the mural depicting the killing of the slave children, Moses is appropriately horrified, and Seti shows up to comfort him and defend his terrible actions. Moses leaves this interaction... and then sings about how this is indeed all he ever wanted! He has no moment of horrific realisation that his father thinks of the slaves as lesser, as lives that can be thrown away. This means that the scene where he kills the guard doesn’t lead into a discussion of morality with Ramses as he runs away, but rather Moses breaking down about his heritage as though it’s a negative, instead of something he’s realised is just as valuable as his life as an Egyptian. Instead of Moses being shown as having a strong moral core that protests against the idea of any life being lesser, he bemoans his Hebrew blood loudly, and makes little mention of the man he killed. His issue that causes him to run away is being adopted, rather than his guilt that he’s a murderer, and nothing Ramses can say will change it.

Later on, we don’t see Ramses express this opinion either (in the movie - M:”Seti’s hands bore the blood of thousands of children!” R:“Hah, slaves!” M:“My people!”) so it seems the core reasoning for the necessity of the extremes God had to go to in order to convince Ramses to let the Hebrews go is completely gone.

Which leads us into God Himself, as a character. 


God is a tricky topic in general. He is hard to talk about as a concept and as a character, and even harder to depict in a way that won’t offend someone. The Prince of Egypt movie always struck me as a very good depiction of the Old Testament God - vengeful and strong-willed, commanding and yet nurturing, capable of great mercy and great cruelty in one fell swoop. God is incredibly present in the story, a character in and of Himself, speaking with Moses rather than simply commanding him. The conversation at the Burning Bush is bone-chillingly beautiful. Moses is allowed to question, he’s allowed to enquire, he’s allowed to express how he feels about God’s choice, and God is given the chance to respond (and reprimand, and comfort).

In the musical, the Burning Bush scene lasts all of two minutes, during which God (the ensemble cast, acting as one moving flame, speaking in unison) monologues to Moses, and Moses is not given room to question, talk to, or build a relationship with God. Later on, once some of the plagues have gotten underway, Moses rails against God, flinches in his resolve, and tries to back out... and God says nothing. It’s Miriam and the spirit of Yocheved that convince Moses to keep going. As a character, God is nearly absent. Even when it comes to calling upon the Plagues, or parting the Red Sea, God’s voice is absent. Moses does not pray. He does not even use the staff that God encouraged him to pick up as a symbol of his becoming a shepherd of the Hebrews out of Egypt. 


It’s these little changes, these little absences of such vital lines and presences, that ends up changing the whole vibe of the show. Seti is more like a dad than an emotionally distant authority figure, and God is more like an emotionally distant authority figure than a character at all. Ultimately, the whole feeling that one is left with at the end…

The Ugly

… is that the script doesn’t like God, or religion in general.

A bold statement to make, considering the source material is one of the central biblical stories in EVERY Abrahamic religion. Moses as a figure is considered so important and close to god, that The Prince of Egypt, even with its sensitive portrayal, cannot be aired in a number of Islamic states, because it’s considered disrespectful to depict any of the prophets, especially an important one like Moses. Moses is arguably the MOST important prophet in the Jewish canon.

However, I haven’t highlighted one of the most noticeable script changes - the elevation of Hotep, the high priest, to main antagonist.

In the original movie, Hotep is a secondary villain, a crony to the Pharaohs, bumbling and snide and two-faced. He and his fellow priest Hoy are there primarily to juxtapose how charlatans can control power through flattery and slight of hand, reassuring Ramses that Moses’ miracles are merely magic the same as what they can do. They even get a whole villain song, “Playing With The Big Boys” which is a lovely deconstruction of lyrics vs visuals, where while the priests boast that their gods and magic are much more powerful, in the background the staff, transformed into a snake by god, devours and defeats the priests’ snake handily. The takeaway from the song is that God’s power is true, and doesn’t need theatrics.

It’s a good little nugget of wordless world building. And it is completely absent from the stage musical, with only a vague reference to the chant of all the gods names.

Hoy is gone, and Hotep is the only priest. He actively speaks out against the Pharaoh, boasts about having all the power, and is played as bombastic and proud. He’s a wildly different character, even threatening Ramses at one point. In the end, it’s shown that Ramses won’t let the Hebrews go not because he has inherited his father Seti’s cruel attitude towards the lives he considers beneath him, but because he is being actively bullied by the priest, and will lose his power and credibility if he doesn’t do as he’s told. Ramses is even given a whole song about how little power he really has. The script desperately wants us to feel sorry for Ramses’ position and hate the unrepentantly, cartoonishly evil priest.

That’s another matter as well - a LOT of time is dedicated to making the Egyptians more human and sympathetic, portraying them as largely ignorant of the suffering beneath them, rather than actively participating in slavery. Characters speak out of turn without regard for formality and class, even to the royal family. They are casual, chummy even. And this would be fine - in fact, it’s good to have that sort of third dimension to characters, even ones who are doing reprehensible things, to show the total normalcy and banality of evil - if it were not for the fact they still include a completely open-and-shut case of evil right next to them.

Hotep has no redeeming features. And on the other side, God is barely present, certainly not in a relatable context. Moses has several lines about how cruel and unnecessary God’s plagues are - and you know what, in this version, they are unnecessary! Ramses is not the stone-hearted ruler that his movie counterpart is, he has no baggage over being a potential failure, because it was never really given to him in the same way! By taking away Ramses’ threatening nature, numbers like the Plagues lose half their appeal, as the back-and-forth ‘you who I called brother’ lines between Moses and Ramses are completely absent. Moses is faithless, and is less torn between the horror of what he’s doing and the necessity of it for the freedom of his people, and more left scrabbling for meaning that he doesn’t find. And the only thing hanging over Ramses is Hotep nit-picking everything he does and threatening him, which is considerably less compelling than the script seems to think it is.

This is best exemplified at the end, when all the issues come to a head. The angel of Death comes and takes the Egyptian first borns (which was actually a well done scene), and the Hebrews leave to a rousing rendition of When You Believe. But then we cut to Ramses and Hotep, with Hotep openly threatening to revolt against the Pharaoh - whom was believed, especially by the priesthood, to be a living god! Hotep is so devoid of redeeming features he cannot even be trusted to stand by his beliefs! - unless Ramses agrees to chase after the Hebrews. Reluctantly, Ramses is badgered into the attempt.

Back with the Hebrews, Moses parts the Red Sea… not with his faith, not by praying to God for another miracle, not even by using his staff as in the most famous scene of the movie… but by holding out his hand and demanding the ‘magic’ work. Setting aside the disrespect of Abrahamic religions to call one of the most famous miracles “magic” (and my oh my, if there was a fundamentalist of any religion in the audience they might have gasped to hear it), it again belittles the work of God, and puts all the onus on Moses, not as a conduit for God’s work, but as the worker himself. Then, the Egyptians arrive in pursuit, lead by Hotep, not Ramses. Moses sends the Hebrews through first, lead by Miriam, and stays behind with Tzipporah… to offer his life in penance to Ramses! The script has completely stripped both Ramses and Moses of their convictions towards their causes, and Moses cannot even stand by his decision to lead his people.

Then, in a moment of jarring melodrama, Moses has a sudden vision that Ramses, his brother, will one day be called Ramses the Great (an actual historical Pharaoh who reigned 1279-1213 BCE). There is no historical evidence that this was the Ramses that ruled over the Hebrews (there are 11 Pharaohs called Ramses through the history of Ancient Egypt), and maybe if the scene was acted a little better, it wouldn’t have been so sudden or jarring. Even more jarring, is that then Hotep arrives with the rest of the army, and Ramses refuses to lead the charge into the parted sea. Hotep does so himself, and is the one to have the final dramatic moment, being crushed under the water.

The Takeaway

After watching the show, I’m afraid I could never recommend it as either a play, an adaption, or even as a faithful retelling of a bible story. Its character drama isn’t compelling enough to be good as a standalone play, with it two main characters declawed and their core motivations reduced to a squabble between brothers rather than a grand interplay between two cultures and ideas and trauma handed down from their father. As an adaption of the movie it’s upsettingly bad, with grand numbers like the Plagues rendered piecemeal and fan favourites like Playing With The Big Boys missing entirely. As a retelling of the bible story, it’s insulting, completely cutting God out of the equation, taking no opportunity to reintroduce Aaron as an important character (which he was, in the bible, as Moses was a notoriously bad public speaker, with a stutter, and Aaron often interpreted for him) and more importantly, completely erasing God’s influence from the narrative.

I don’t know who this show was… for, in that case. If it wasn’t for drama lovers, movie fans, or people of the faith, then who the hell was it for? Why change such a critically acclaimed and well-beloved story? Why take away all these defining moments? If you wanted to tell a story about how religion is the true evil, how God can command people to do terrible things, and how those who uphold organised religion like Hotep are unrepentant, one-dimensional monsters… why would you tell that through the Prince of Egypt?

Underwhelming at best, infuriating at worst… just watch the movie. Or read Exodus. At least the Bible’s free.

[felassan]

Thoughts on Dark Fortress #2

(This post is under a cut due to spoilers.)

So late with this one! some stuff irl was keeping me really busy and hyper-distracting me lately, but it’s finally over now so I’m back on my bioware bullshit. :D

Overall there were a lot of beautiful or awe-inspiring scenes in this issue, and a lot of great, meaningful / poignant character interactions and moments between characters. It’s pretty impressive actually how much was able to be packed in. I posted some of my favorite panels here. also omg! the action sequences! the big reveal! the ending!! woww

cool scene-setting, panned out shot of Neromenian and behind it, the Dark Fortress, to immediately pull you back into the world and ‘where we left off’. the combination of ruined dead trees, red lights, lightning and fire/smoke is very atmospheric and hints at what’s ahead

“From this... city, if we can call it that” is a sick burn and reminds you that the Qunari are technologically more advanced than most of the rest of Thedas, from their cannons to their aqueducts

more individually distinct Qunari soldiers, sth I again appreciate

! last issue there were big ‘You haven’t seen the last of Tractus!’ vibes, naturally, but I didn’t expect him to escape by stabbing and killing the Qunari using a chair-leg..!!

the last panel on the first page of Karasten is really good. the way it’s colored, the way it’s lit, the light and shadow, the fiery backdrop, cinders floating, the details of his expression.. 👌 it also makes me think to the possible future, to DA4 when mainland Thedas may be continuing to face the entirety of the Antaam

in Vaea’s acrobatics scene on the bridge, I know rationally that she’ll be fine but couldn’t help but worry for her. again I like how they don’t shy away from showcasing Vaea’s specific abilities. also the attention to detail - you’d think some rocks are just some rocks, but it highlights the risk she’s undertaking that if she falls it’s into rough seas which could dash her against the jagged rocks :’S. Vaea, gooooo!

Fenris’ “Enterprising girl” line has big “Clever girl” meme energy :D

my heart can’t take Fran and Autumn leaning over the edge after Vaea in worry ;; or Aaron looking back in concern over his shoulder ;; or Fran’s tender reassurance ;; or Autumn’s Worried expression ;; the care and bonds which have grown between this group of characters ;;

notice Aaron starts drinking when Vaea’s away from them and they’re beginning to grow worried about her safety. the poor man’s nerves and stress levels

Fran touching the vegetation while she’s considering if she could use her magic to open the entrance from the outside is a nice touch

did Marius leap in front of Fenris and Fran there when the entrance opened?? damn, he’s quick. and the three of them look all scary and formidable here ready for combat. notice how the curve of the door and the spikes that go into the ground, and the composition of this panel, make it look like they’re standing in front of an opened dragon’s maw? ‘teeth’, a rumbling ‘roar’.. some nice foreshadowing here.

the reunion panels are so cute. Autumn’s lil tum as she jumps and Fran and Fenris’ lil smiles of relief and at Autumn’s reaction to seeing Vaea, then a rare happy beam from Aaron.. feel.. the love ;__;

red lighting in the tunnel sets a dangerous, dramatic build-up mood

👀 more info on Fenris’ past, on the specifics of the process which gave him his markings. in the panel where he says that it took a long time, his shadow on the wall behind him reminds me of the shadow of his past that has dogged him for so long :(

Fenris and Marius height difference

discussion of the process shows the power difference between blue and red lyrium. blue lyrium took a long time, red lyrium is almost instant

Autumn is such an intrepid little explorer and alert scout, tail and ears up, head forward. good girl!

“I just... worry about you, my girl”  ‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )‧º·˚  I’ll be so sad if these are death flags for Aaron and he doesn’t make it out of here. also note Fran in this panel, who recently had to kill her own father and is still dealing with that, watching the strongly paternal moment between Aaron and Vaea :(

love Vaea’s faith in Aaron and her sense of humor. also I don’t know why, maybe it’s because Vaea met Sebastian, but her “Maker, no!”, although in a completely different and light-hearted context, reminds me of Sebastian’s “Maker nooo!” at the end of DA2 hh

the reference again to Hawke, who Fenris saw haunted by what they tried to do - save their mother - and couldn’t :’(. also with the shadow in this panel, here’s another person struggling with the shadow of his past qq. this is later emphasized again in Aaron when he continues to talk about his past and in the panel is a chain and manacle. smart visual metaphors, a must in the comic medium with limited space

mushroom skull 💀🍄

“It isn’t about what I’ve done. It isn’t about my failures. Or my choices. It’s about their impact” - he’s misty-eyed here as he thinks back to Ostagar.. does this line btw seem almost meta to anyone else btw? :D it feels like a meta reference to the experience of DA players and PCs, who are always having to deal with the impacts of their choices

I wanna point out that I was right on reading issue #1, when I said “I’m positive that in panel 2 here, it’s the exact moment when he sees Cailan die” ;;

So Aaron is also a veteran of the Battle of Denerim

reference to the Hero of Ferelden - “Those were someone else’s battles”. I’m being captain obvious here but I can’t help but [heart pitter-patter] at any and all references to the HoF

I like the.. parallel? is that the word? Aaron’s stories were him trying to inspire people to make a change, or him trying to convince himself of that. and now here’s Vaea, inspiring Aaron with her words in these panels. the little guys can make a difference! in the world of Thedas, you don’t need to be a big bombastic hero or a Player Character to have an impact 

lmao Fenris right on cue. the moments of humor/light-heartedness are nice because they break up the tension and are sprinkled throughout without derailing build-up or taking away from dramatic story impact. yknow?

yeah Aaron!! leave it behind. leave it to rot with mr mushroom skull (and hey the mushroom skull was there for a reason). again tho if this is a death flag i 

Fenris straight down to business with the tactics

its cute how close Autumn has been sticking to Fran

Tessa checking in on Fran again, as she did in issue 1

Could Vaea’s “Well, shit” be an homage to Varric? :D they have met

I also wanna point out that I was right on reading issue #1, when I said “My guess is that the thing Tractus shows Marquette and Nenealeus is probably a chained up dragon or similar”

the poor dragon :’( big dragon the Qunari had in Trespasser vibes

the sword has a really cool design, kind of reminds me of something a samurai might be depicted wielding

👀 lore-drop! so ancient elven arcane warriors used lyrium-infused swords. this seems to confirm the sarcophagus is an ancient elven artifact, no? makes sense, wasn’t it said that the sarcophagus’ design was based on the architecture/outfit-design type elements of a specific faction, and that this was done intentionally? it looks kinda ancient elfy in make, right? also about the lyrium-infused swords of the arcane warriors, well well well.. remember that the Evanuris and the ancient elves mined the bodies of Titans for lyrium, for power and to use as a resource. here’s an example of that use

as I read through this portion I became increasingly concerned for my boy Shirallas.. we really are in it now aren’t we 😭

the Qunari are launching STRAIGHT-UP ROCKETS ohhhh

pretty ‘lightshow’ over the wall in the “Let’s hope the fortress is as secure as Danarius boasted” panel hh

protective older brother Fenris, impish younger sister Vaea. love that dynamic, we love to see it. sheepish and exasperated Fenris is so cute

the Bone Pit dragon fight with Hawke and co reference!

I wonder how long the dragon has been captive here, and how Danarius/Tractus was able to capture it

lore-wise what are the implications here? when Fenris’ ritual was being undertaken, the sword and the sarcophagus were bombarded with magic, fire spells. in this one they aim to have the dragon bombard it with fire-breathing. is it just fire that makes it work/powers it, or is there magic in dragonfire, in dragons? it reminds me of “Your heart beats with the old blood, as well. Where do you think it comes from? It sings of a time when dragons ruled the skies. A time before the Veil, before the mysteries were forgotten. Can you hear it?”

purple color for the dragon’s growling sounds/typeset is a great idea

lets.. goooo!!!!

Marquette is such a nerd. later on when he activates the sarcophagus he has mad scientist vibes

the dramatic reunion face-offs begin!! as the prophecy foretold!!!!1

true to form, Marius DOES have nothing to say ahahaha, even at this, his personal climax. maybe Marius dies in the next issue, but Tessa lives and gets to go back to Charter

these Venatori look almost Star Wars

Shirallas my boyy.. nooo... don’t do it 😭

ah ah ah! try casting magic with no ARMS

Francesca a beacon of blue light and goodness

the splash combat page is masterful. everyone playing a part, so much going on, everything happening at once. a thing that sticks out to me about it is Aaron’s outstretched hand and alarm as he watches Fran fall 

Autumn with her lil hackles raised

“The Venatori have returned” dun dun dunn

goodbye Shirallas 😭😭😭

the composition of the second to last page with triangle/diamond-shaped panels and the framing of dragon wings is awesome

the Dread Wolf rises, “the Tevinter Imperium will rise again”.. on-point on-point cohesion

there he is, the red wraith

Super Saiyan Shirallas

what a note to end an issue on

wow wow wow!!

and separate to the above, some speculation based on the cover of Issue 3: the piece of metal looks like a broken collar coming off Shirallas, like the one there was on the cover of Issue 2 coming off the dragon. also he’s all bulky now with draconic talons/claws (reminds me of in-world legends of Reavers who dug too deep of their own power after drinking dragon blood and whose bodies consequently began to manifest subtle reptilian traits actually). I’ll be interested to see what results of this allusion between Shirallas and the dragon!!

[marvels-agents100]

mnemosyne’s burden

the harder the rain, honey, the sweeter the sun

pairing: Aaron Hotchner x gender neutral ! reader

warnings: cm typical violence, mentions and allusions to sex, mentions of scars and trauma

word count: 5,317 ( aka why i cant ever get anything done )

author’s note: me ? writing ? never thought id live to see it. also the ‘ego’ line ( you’ll know which one it is ) was picked from the brains of @davidrossi-ismydad and @good-heavens-chris-evans

“Have a good weekend,” JJ said softly, pulling her arms around you, “Lord knows you deserve it.”

You rolled your eyes, smile sitting on your lips, “We all do, now go and see your boys.”

She chuckled, “Don’t have to tell me twice.”

With a small wave and a dazzling smile, she walked through the glass entrance of the BAU, her blonde locks swaying as she left. You watched her with a grin, her presence being the last bit of light in the darkened unit. Everyone had already found their way home, bones aching and eyes exhausted after the five day case on the west coast. Spencer had already been mumbling statistics about sleep deprivation on the jet ride home.

You glanced up to the office that perched by the top of the stairs, its yellow light illuminating the desolate bullpen. It was odd, how a naturally bright and joyful color could bring a heavy darkness into an already dark room. A sigh escaped you, originating in your chest, as you looked at the pensive profile of the one and only SSA Aaron Hotchner.

His eyebrows were pulled taught and low on his forehead, his left hand writing mercilessly on the sizable stack of manila folders before him. There were no pauses or hesitations in his work, just the incessant scratch of pen against paper.

Before you had even fully thought to, your knuckles were tapping on the wood of his office door, echoing slightly in the large room.

“Come in,” his voice was muffled and tired.

You entered the room silently, door clicking shut behind you. His eyes lifted briefly to acknowledge you, but quickly flickered back to the work before him. Now that you were closer, you could see the lines below his eyes. They were deep and purple, made worse with every letter he wrote. His shoulders slumped forward, heavy with the sorrow and guilt that followed every case.

“Do you plan on sleeping at all tonight?” You questioned, your slightly defiant tone earning another fleeting glance from him.

“You and I both know that you already know the answer to that question,” he said, voice monotonous. You huffed at his words, knowing he was right. Having known each other for many years- all the way back to law school- made you very aware of his sleeping habits.

“I might know the answer,” you sat on his leather couch, “but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

He set the ballpoint down and gave you his full attention, one of his eyebrows tilted upwards. “Did you need something?” He asked, professionally. You had to resist rolling your eyes.

“Aaron, please go home,” you nearly begged.

“You know I can’t do that, yet.”

“The papers and files will still be here on Monday,” you reasoned, “you deserve to sleep in your own bed and see your son.”

“He’s at a summer camp for the weekend,” he said dismissively, resuming his writing. 

Giving up on persuasion, you stood and crossed the room quickly, resorting to stealing the pen from between Aaron’s fingers. He looked up to you in disbelief, mouth parted slightly and eyebrows knotted in confusion.

“What are you-“

“You’re going to go home,” you interrupted, “and you’re going to pack a bag for the weekend.”

“I can’t-“

“You’re not going to think about work, and you and I are going to go up to Rossi’s cabin upstate,” you weren’t letting him get a single word in, “I was going to go by myself, but now you are obliged to take this small vacation with me.”

He shook his head slightly, “I have too much to do here.”

“And this building, and all of your work in it, will still be here in a few days,” you argued.

“I just don’t-“

“Aaron, please,” you lost the edge in your voice, looking at him with wide eyes. 

He had to look away from you, pushing aside the part of him that went absolutely feral every time you said his name like that.

“We come back Sunday night,” he wagered, meeting your eyes.

“We can be home before dinner,” you tried to hide the hope that laced your words.

His eyes searched your face for a moment, his mind contemplating your offer (while admiring you), “Fine. I’ll go.”

You smiled widely, placing the pen back into his palm gently, “Seven o’clock tomorrow morning, I’ll come and get you.”

You turned, steps lighter in the wake of your triumph, as you walked to the door. As it closed behind you, the ghost of a smile tilted at his lips, his eyes still watching the spot you stood in only seconds before. His pulse was racing, mostly out of excitement but also out of fear. Hiding the way he felt about you had only become more difficult after he realized he wasn’t involved in a brief crush, but he was in love with you-

“If you want me, then take me,” you wagered, your voice venomous, “but leave that girl alone.”

The UNSUB snickered, his gun aimed pointedly at the temple of the teenage girl that was encircled in his arm. You stood with your own weapon raised, the rest of the team clearing the house attached to the basement you were in. You prayed that they would stay above ground, at least until you managed to move the girl into a safer area, away from her attacker.

“Drop the gun,” he spat out, and you followed his orders, lowering it to the floor softly.

“If you want me,” you repeated, “take me, let her go.”

The barrel of his pistol was suddenly pointed to you, his grip falling away from the young girl’s neck. She stumbled to the corner of the damp room, curling into herself. Your hands were held up in surrender as he hurried towards you, yanking you away from the stairs by the edge of your kevlar. He kicked at the inside of your knees, making you kneel in front of him.

“If I want you,” he chuckled darkly, the smooth metal of his gun tracing your jaw, “In what way, darling? Don’t worry, both ways end the same, but one is much more thrilling.”

He crouched to your eye level, and you resisted the urge to spit in his face. Instead, you kept your expression neutral, refusing to give him any satisfaction of knowing the fear that coursed through your veins.

“I think it’s an important distinction to make, don’t you?” You could feel his breath hit your face as he talked, a sickening smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

He stood again, a bullet clicking into place as he pointed the gun at your forehead.

“Unfortunately for you,” he sighed, “I’m feeling a little impatient.”

Just as your eyes shut and you accepted your fate, a single gunshot echoed through the basement, followed by the sound of a body hitting the ground. You let out a strangled breath, slightly shocked by the fact that you could, in fact, still breathe. Your hardened demeanor crumbled, your hands beginning to shake as they lowered slowly. Two warm palms on your shoulders made your eyes open, the worried face of Aaron Hotchner hovering over you.

His eyes were so incredibly soft, his hands so incredibly gentle; it made you question whether or not you were in heaven.

“You’re okay,” he reassured softly, his hands guiding you to your feet, before tugging you towards him. You collided with his chest, his arms circling you completely as his face dropped to your shoulder. He was breathing heavily, as if he was holding his breath moments before.

If the kevlar of his vest wasn’t acting as a barrier, he was sure you would have heard the way his heart hammered against his ribs. He held you tightly, needing to feel you breathe in order to believe it, in order to slow his pulse. When your arms eventually winded around his waist- the shock of your brush with death wearing away- he had to stop himself from breaking down completely. 

In the mere moments he had heard the threats that were given to you and the click of a loaded gun, he felt a fear that hadn’t taken a hold of him since George Foyet roamed the earth. He didn’t think before pulling the trigger from the top of the basement stairs, he only acted upon his instinct- to protect you.

He cared about you- he knew that- but the pure dread that washed over him when he saw a bullet aiming for your skull… that was a feeling he had only had for one woman before you. The woman that he loved, even in the wake of her death.

And that’s when he knew; the small fluttering in his stomach and the acceleration of his pulse wasn’t because of a small, fleeting crush on you- he was in the process of falling completely.

***

You were, once again, knocking on Aaron’s door, a coffee in your hand for the undoubtedly sleepy man behind it. A few moments passed without any sound from inside the apartment, your ear coming to rest against the wood to find any sign of life. A second knock did little to bring about different results. When there was still no answer, you pulled your phone from your pocket and dialed his number.

It rang twice before he picked up.

“Hotchner,” he said, his voice thick with sleep, resembling a growl.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” you cooed, your voice sickly sweet, “now, as much as I enjoy looking at your welcome mat, I would much rather be staring at the wonderful scenery of northern Virginia.”

He groaned in response, immediately hanging up the call. You giggled, hearing him shuffle around as he made his way to the door.

It swung open, revealing an overall disheveled Aaron Hotchner. His eyes squinted, still adjusting to the light, and his hair laid in an adorably messy state on top of his head. The gray of his shirt was wrinkled and the hems of his flannel pants brushed the hardwood floors, but he somehow still looked so damn good. 

You held in your chuckle at the grimace on his lips, annoyance clear in his features.

“I don’t have a welcome mat,” he quipped, voice still crackling from his rest.

“Fabrication for the sake of comedy,” you explained, handing him his coffee and patting his chest lightly as you entered the apartment.

“I’m sorry I overslept,” he began, closing the door softly as a palm ran down his face.

“Don’t be,” you waved your hand at him, “just grab all of your things, I’ll drive the first half.”

The way you smiled at him made him question what he had done to deserve you.

“Sure thing, boss,” he joked, feet dragging as he walked towards his room. You chuckled at him, finding a spot on his couch as you waited.

He emerged no more than ten minutes later, pajamas traded for a pair of sweatpants and another plain shirt, messy hair slightly tamed, and a duffel slung over his shoulder. Without any hesitation, you let yourself look him over, drinking in how incredibly attractive he looked in everyday streetwear. 

“You ready?” You asked, eyes snapping back to his face.

“More than ever,” he grinned, taking his keys from the table near the door. You stood, smoothing your palms against your thighs in an attempt to calm yourself down.

“Then let’s get moving, we’ve got a long car ride of early 2000’s pop ahead of us,” you teased, almost skipping through his door.

“I will launch myself out of a moving car,” he deadpanned, “you know I will.”

“Don’t give me any ideas, Hotchner.”

The smile he gave you definitely gave you many, many ideas.

***

Aaron’s undeniably distracting snores were the soundtrack of the drive to Rossi’s cabin. You had stopped to refuel when you were halfway through the trip, but the way he slept- his elbow against the door and his cheek scrunched against his fist- made the very thought of waking him awful and cruel. His legs were curled up in the seat, feet adorned in socks that had multicolored polka dots on them (one of the birthday presents you picked out with Jack the November before), and everything about him just seemed so relaxed- you wouldn’t dare wake him up.

So, you settled in for the second half of the trip, soft music pouring from the radio over the sounds of a sleeping Aaron Hotchner.

The forest began to get denser, the patches of green becoming a sea of foliage lining the road, which was notably unkempt and unused. It was all so beautiful, the way the trees shrouded the ground with fallen leaves, or how they stretched upwards to touch the sky. It was enough to tilt your lips in a content smile, the cabin owned by none other than David Rossi peeking through the branches.

Rolling to a stop in front of the wooden cabin, you pulled the keys from the ignition. Aaron slept soundly beside you- he must have gotten little to no sleep the night before. You reached out and tapped his shoulder lightly. 

“Aaron,” you spoke softly. He stirred, but settled.

“Hey,” you shook him gently, “sleepy head, we’re here.”

“A little… longer,” he grumbled out, his words slurred and breathy, eyes never opening.

You leaned over the center console so you could whisper in his ear, “I will personally drag you out of this car, Hotchner, whether you are willing or not.”

He let out a long, annoyed sigh, his hand reaching to run down his face. When his eyes finally flickered open, he was met with you back in your own seat, wearing a smug grin. His gaze then flickered to the windows, taking in the cabin surrounded by nature.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” He asked, voice slightly graveled.

You shrugged, “I figured I would let you sleep, I was fine to drive.”

His head fell back onto the headrest of his seat, another sigh leaving him. With a worried expression, he looked back to you.

“You wouldn’t be able to drag me out of this car,” he said, and despite the plain and factual way his words came out, you knew he was teasing you.

“Is that a challenge?” Your eyebrow raised.

“Not a challenge,” he was visibly fighting the smile that threatened to reach his face, “just the truth.”

“Yeah, okay, you’re on.”

Without hesitation, you launched yourself over him, opening his door completely. His hands tried to keep yours from unbuckling his seatbelt, yours and his laughs filling the air. You let out a cry of triumph when a click sounded and the buckle retracted from around him, hitting the wall of the car with a metallic snap.

“I’m… winning!” you pushed against him, his dimples on full display as he lightly swatted your hands away.

“Not for long,” he giggled, fingers finding your sides (which he knew was a weak spot, and therefore was a cheap shot), and tickling you mercilessly. You let out a squeak, pushing away from him, your back landing against your door.

“That’s playing dirty,” you pointed a finger at him, smile still on your lips.

“Maybe,” he chuckled, “but I was right.”

“Eat my shorts,” you playfully rolled your eyes, moving to open your own door, “now let’s go, you can hibernate inside.”

“Oh, I plan on staying awake, now,” he called over the car, moving towards the trunk. He opened it while you stood beside him, waiting to grab your baggage, “I’ve already lost a whole car ride of annoying you; I have the rest of the day to make up for it.”

The shit-eating grin he sent you only left you a little breathless.

***

The night fell rather quickly, the tired sun dipping below the tree line with an eagerness you weren’t too sad to see. The stars, away from the city lights and fog, always looked so beautiful in the arms of the woods.

There was a small flame within the fire pit that was stationary on the land behind the cabin, by the edge of the woods. Head tilted back, your eyes roamed across the constellations, a satisfied smile on your face.

Aaron leaned in the back doorway, arms crossed over his chest. His eyes held nothing but adoration, looking at the way you admired the sky. Everything you did, no matter what it was, was just so endearing to him. It was just a side effect of love, he knew. You could do something as simple as making him a cup of coffee, or making sure he ate at least twice a day, and his heart would be left racing for hours to come. Even then, as you marveled at the sky, eyes wide as if it didn’t hang over you every night, he could feel an overwhelming rush of affection inhabit his chest.

His arms dropped to his side as he strolled towards you, a goofy smile resting on his face.

“Should’ve brought a telescope,” he said, plopping himself into the chair beside you.

Your head lulled over to look at him, smile widening, “I think they look just fine from here, don’t you?”

Your gaze returned to the lights above you, but his eyes remained trained on you. They softened, and he suddenly felt dizzy. The way your features looked against the background of the night sky was breathtaking.

“Yeah,” he breathed out, “they do.”

His tore his sight from you, instead looking into the flame in front of him. Holding back the sigh that sat in his throat, he focused on the flickering embers that floated onto the ground. It was almost laughable, how helplessly he had fallen for you. With every moment you were beside him, he just felt himself descending further. You lived rent-free in his heart, and he didn’t ever intend on evicting you.

“It’s nice to sit and relax,” you sighed, Aaron’s eyes flickering to you.

“As much as I hate to admit that you’re right,” he leaned back in his chair, head tilting to the sky, “it is nice to not wear a suit and tie for a few days.”

“I told you so,” you mumbled, unable to fight the smirk that creeped onto your lips.

“What was that?”

“I said,” you met his eyes, “I told you so.”

“I can start walking,” he threatened, his dimples on full display.

“I won’t stop you, Hotchner.”

He stood, giving you a small wave before shoving his hands into his pockets and strolling towards the front of the house. You watched him, rolling your eyes at his antics. Running to catch up to him, you linked your arm with his, pulling him back towards the fire pit. You tried to ignore the way the contact sent a warmth down the length of your spine.

“Come on, Aaron,” you whined, “you’re only pouting because I was right, and you were not.”

“Am not-“

“Yes, you are,” you stopped and looked up at him, still wrapped around his arm. A couple seconds passed before you realized how you were pressed against the length of his body, and how his eyes jumped between your own, the brown hues darkening the longer he looked at you.

A hot, searing blush spread up your chest and to your face, making you release him and step away slightly. Unable to meet his eyes, you kept your gaze trained on the floor. It was completely fantastical, the thought of you and Aaron ever being together. You fought long and hard to push your feelings for him- feelings that had always lingered in your heart- deep into the back of your thoughts, but recently, they had been popping up in your mind more than usual. There was something about the way his hair fell onto his forehead, they way his dimples creased with every laugh, the way his eyes sparkled like the stars in the sky… it captivated you and took your heart hostage.

You had spent years silently loving this man.

You began to stutter out an apology, “I’m sorry I-“

“Hey,” he interrupted softly, your eyes meeting his, “I’m not.”

“What?” Your voice was just as quiet as his.

“I’m not sorry.”

You stood there, speechless and in shock. The pounding of your heartbeat was loud in your ears, your lungs empty and temporarily disabled. He looked back at you with an expression of worry- a worry of being rejected. Your mouth opened and closed a few times, reflecting upon your answer before you decided on what to say. 

“Really?”

Yeah, not exactly a scholarly reply, but you were in a bit of shock. 

“Really, really,” he chuckled slightly, but his eyebrows were still turned upwards from nerves. 

“God,” you sighed, “I want to kiss you.”

“I definitely won’t stop you.”

A wide, joyful smile filled your face, your feet bringing you towards him as your arms reached up to encircle his neck. His hands met your waist as soon as they could, pulling you to him as if your touch was the only thing keeping him breathing. Your chest met his, your lips mere inches from each other’s. 

“How long?” You whispered, asking a simple question you knew he would understand, fingers lacing through the hair sitting on the back of his neck. 

His knees almost gave out at the feeling of your breath on his lips, “Too long.”

And with that, you crashed your lips onto his, his arms immediately winding around you and squeezing you to him. It was a sweet, sweet relief, finally kissing the man you had been pining over for years. You could feel your stomach leap into your throat, your heart threatening to break through your ribs. The feeling of emptiness that usually occupied your chest had disappeared completely, filled with the love you held for the man that held you. 

He wasn’t much different, heart racing and stomach churning. Loving you has been a wonderful form of self destruction, breaking down the thick walls he had built around himself to prevent vulnerability. You tore those walls down without apologies, and he had taken a chance in letting you, and wasn’t he glad he did. The darkness that encapsulated him had become the rays of sun that leaked through drawn curtains, your smile laced in every stream of light. 

Pulling away from you, his chest rose and fell against your own, love struck smiles on each of your faces. He released you slightly, your hands trailing down his arms until your palms met. Lacing your fingers with his, you pulled him with you as you walked towards the house, your grin never faltering. 

“We have to put out the fire,” he protested, tugging you in the opposite direction. 

“Aaron,” you spoke lowly, “I swear on all things holy,” you pulled him until his chest met yours, your mouth hovering by his ear, “make it quick.”

You released him, walking backwards for a few steps before turning and ascending the stairs of the cabin porch, disappearing inside. 

And, well, he definitely followed your directions. 

Within record time, he was inside, pushing you against the wall of the master bedroom, hands holding your wrists above your head, lips attacking your neck. 

“This is way better than what I imagined this weekend being like ,” you breathed out.

His kisses reached up to your jaw, his nose dragging along your cheek as he lifted his head, “And what did you imagine, sweetheart?” His voice held a dark and smooth tone. 

“Well, a bit more sleeping, maybe a game of solitaire,” you smirked, “all the stuff old guys like to do.”

His eyes darkened even more, and you swore you heard a small growl come from him, “You’re a brat.”

He kissed you roughly, your lower lip dragging between his teeth. Releasing your hands, he hiked up the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head and discarding it with a toss over his shoulder. You matched his actions, fumbling for his shirt and lifting it over his head before it floated to the floor. Slowly, your fingers and eyes trailed from his shoulders to his chest, then his stomach, gently touching the scars that littered his abdomen. He stepped away when you grazed the rough skin.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized softly, eyes studying the carpet below his feet.

You looked up at him, seeing the embarrassment and shame painted into his features, “Don’t apologize.”

He chuckled warily, “Bit of a mood killer.”

You sighed, fingers wrapping around his chin and tilting his head until you could see his eyes.

“I’m not going to tell you that these scars make you stronger, or that they’re a reminder of what you survived,” your hand ran through his ebony hair, “because you have always been strong, you’ve always been a survivor, and a couple scars don’t change that.”

He was still discouraged, and you could feel a pain in your chest simply from how completely broken he looked.

“Look, Aaron,” you spoke gently, “these are horrible reminders of a horrible time in your life, and you don’t need to romanticize them in order to accept them. And, when I see them,” your fingertips traced a particularly large scar on his stomach, “I see a part of you, and every part of you is perfect to me,” you looked back to his eyes, “and you, shirtless, is the complete opposite of a mood-killer.”

His eyes searched yours, his palm reaching to rest upon your cheek, “What have I done to deserve you?”

You smiled sweetly, holding his face and kissing him softly, “I could say the same about you, but I figure I shouldn’t inflate your ego.”

He hissed as if he touched a hot stove, head turning away from you slightly.

“Ouch,” he chuckled, “I take it back.”

“No you don’t,” you whispered as you pulled his lips to yours again.

“No, I don’t,” he mumbled between kisses.

“Now,” your arms wrapped lazily around his neck, lips ghosting over his, “stop stalling and put that big ego to use.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” he growled, and he kept his word until the sun came up.

***

It was the pleasant and light chirping of the birds that woke you. Your eyelids cracked open to see sunlight draped over the room, spilling onto the white sheets that rested upon your body. A low groan sounded from behind you, the arm draped over your waist tightening slightly.

“Good morning,” his voice slipped out as a rumble of words, sleep weighing heavily on him.

“Hey there, sleeping beauty,” you twisted yourself so you laid on your back, fingers tracing along and forearm wrapped around you.

“Sleep well?” He asked, leaning forward to place gentle kisses just below your jaw.

“Mhm,” you hummed, eyes closing languidly. He chuckled against your skin, repositioning himself so he leaned on his elbow, hovering above you. The dark strands of his hair poked up in every direction, his half lidded eyes shining the color of honey in the morning light.

“Did you?” You whispered, playing with the hair just above his ear.

He pretended to bite at your hand, “Better than usual.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” you winked, letting out a giggle when he nuzzled himself into your neck. He immediately decided it was his favorite sound.

“Let’s just lay here all day,” he sighed, lifting his head from you once again.

“I would love nothing more,” you ran a hand through his messy hair, “but you told Jess you would be home by dinner, and Jack gets back tonight.”

“Just an hour, then,” he wagered, “I’ll drive the entire way home.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, but you knew you would give in. There was no denying the persuasions of Aaron Hotchner when he wore the dawn like a halo, smiling at you like you were the only thing that existed on earth.

“Fine,” you drawled, “but only because you’re cute.”

“Damn straight,” he poked at your sides, smiling wider when you let out a squeak.

“Don’t even start,” you threatened, “we are having a good morning.”

“Oh, I just can’t help myself,” his hand ghosted over your side, sending a shiver through you, “I just love to hear you laugh.”

“You’re soft,” you rolled your eyes, leaning up to plant a kiss on his lips. He followed you as your head landed on the pillow, keeping his lips pressed to yours. Arms winding around his shoulders, your body molded to his. You almost whined when he pulled away from you.

He was scanning over your features, a certain sparkle in his eye and a content smile on his face.

“What?” You asked quietly, “What is it?”

“I-“ he cut himself off, biting his lower lip to keep himself from talking.

“Aaron,” you held his face in your hands, ���what is it?”

“I just…” he hesitated, but the way the sunlight soaked into your skin and reflected into your eyes made it impossible for him to hold his tongue any longer, “I just love you. So much.”

The world froze around you, breath and heart stopping alike. All you saw was his face, the honey of his brown eyes, the warm smile on his lips. It was almost overwhelming, how purely beautiful he was, with a golden light enveloping him, making him impossibly soft.

“You love…” your words were merely a breath, any and all strength from your voice lost, “I… I love you, too”

He let out a small laugh- a sound you could listen to until your heart halted permanently and your lungs could no longer breathe- an expression of absolute, unbridled joy consuming his features. Shaking his head slightly, his forehead met yours gently.

“I love you,” he whispered, the words tumbling from his lips and onto yours, and God, did they taste sweet.

“I love you,” it was a mantra, a prayer, and he couldn’t stop himself from repeating the three words he held in the privacy of his thoughts for far too long.

Your fingers gripped onto his raven hair, your smile wide and giggling, “I love you, too.”

His lips met yours in desperation, kissing you with a feverish passion, as if he would never see you again. You let your hands explore the soft skin of his shoulders, trailing along his arms.

“Please don’t make me leave this bed,” his lips brushed yours with every word he spoke.

“Not now,” you promised, a compromise, “later.”

“I will take every minute,” he sighed, reconnecting his lips to yours.

And it was beautiful, the way his hands caressed you, the way his kiss lingered. He kept his word, cherishing every last moment with you. If he could, he would’ve begged the sun to stay in it’s waking state, stretching the morning for an impossible amount of time, simply to spend it in your arms and under the sheets. But, the day continued on despite his wishes, and the dread and fear of leaving you was one that settled heavily in his stomach.

It wasn’t until he reached his home, your hand intertwined with his, your smile warm and inviting, that his awful feelings were able to disappear.

It took one look at you- with the way your eyes latched onto him like he had hung every star in the sky, your skin illuminated by the soft hues of the sunset- then he knew, the love you shared would bring you back together, no matter how far the world tried to tear you apart.

“I love you,” your eyes sparkled as you spoke. He thought of the sky over the cabin.

“I love you,” he replied, “so much.”

taglist:

@quillvine​ @winterscaptain​

[latoyalestrange]

<- previous | twenty-one | next ->

masterlist

chapter twenty-one — three weeks

HOSPITALS WERE never Ophelia's desired location. She hadn't stepped foot in one since Aaron was there. She still got her checkups, mind you, but those were in doctors offices; much different than a hospital. It didn't take her much convincing to go for this baby, however.

"You're nervous," Spencer scanned her body; she was biting her finger nails and lightly jogging her legs.

"Wow, 187, you are unbelievable," She mused. Spencer knew she was under a lot of stress right now and she didn't mean to snap at him. He was glad to let her poke fun at him all she wanted if it made her even a little better. "Sorry," She sighed. He smiled.

"I've heard worse," He wrapped his arm around her back and rubbed her shoulder, something he knew she found to be comforting.

"What if I miscarry again, Spence? What if there's too much damage and it can't survive?" She looked up at him and he immediately started wracking his brain for an answer.

"Only a small percent of women have repeated miscarriages, only about one percent, whereas a second miscarriage has a 20% chance of occurring," In that moment he felt as if he deserved to be snapped at.

"Spencer," She whined. "That's not exactly ideal," Her head fell to his shoulder.

"Sorry, it just kinda slipped out," He cringed. She nodded.

"I know, it's not your fault," She rubbed her eyes, as if to rid her mind of that awful statistic. Before he could spout off anymore terrifying facts, a nurse emerged from the patient rooms.

      "Holmes?" She called out, looking at the mostly empty waiting room. Spencer stood, but Ophelia hesitated. He offered his hand, smiling down at her. She returned a smile and grasped his hand.

      "Okay, this is gonna be a little cold," Spencer never let go of Ophelia's hand the entire time. She squeezed him as the doctor spread the gel around her abdomen. It was more than a little cold. Ophelia watched her expressions so closely, looking for any sign of bad news.

      "Did you happen to have any injuries to your abdomen in the past?" Shit. It was Spencer's turn to squeeze.

      "Yes, I was pregnant before and I was attacked. I had a miscarriage— why?" The doctor looked down at her, a reassuring smile on her face.

      "Not to worry, I just see some scar tissue that indicates trauma," She looked back up at the screen and continued to rub the wand around her stomach. A few silent moments passed.

      "And...there it is," She pointed to the screen and Spencer craned his neck to look with you. "There's your baby," The tiniest dot of white was in the middle of a dark womb.

       "Looks to be about three weeks," Spencer added. The doctor giggled.

      "You're right," Ophelia let her body relax onto the bed. She shook her head. Spencer blushed.

      "Are you a doctor?" She turned to look at him as pictures printed off of her machine.

      "Yes, but not that kind. I have a Ph.D in-"

      "Spence," Ophelia chuckled. "I'm three weeks pregnant over here, let me have my moment," She said jokingly. He rolled his eyes.

      "Okay, okay, fine," He closed her hand in his. Even though this meant a lot of trouble for Ophelia, he could always make her feel better.

      "Would you like to discuss options, or do we know what we're doing?" The doctor folded the three pictures together and handed them to Ophelia, her triumphant smile gleaming.

      "I think I'm gonna keep it," Ophelia nodded, squeezing Spencer's hand once more.

      "Okay, let me know if you change your mind and we'll get you set up with something, okay?" The two nodded. "Now, I don't want to worry you, but since there was a previous miscarriage and damage to the womb, I want to keep a close eye on you," She went back to her normal computer and began typing. Neither of them said anything.

      "It's just a precaution," She smiled. It didn't settle their worries any, but it was appreciated. "I'll have the nurse set up appointments for every other week, but once you get closer to term, I want to see you every week. No. Skipping. Okay?" Ophelia didn't know how she was going to get away with appointments every other week without telling Aaron, but she had to make it work. At least until she was forced to tell him.

      Spencer drove Ophelia back to her apartment, mostly in silence. That was, until her phone started to ring. It took her a moment to dig her phone out of her purse, but once she did, she hesitated at the caller ID.

      "Shit," She hit the answer button and put it up to her ear. "Hey," She forced a smile.

      "Hey," Aaron. God, how she missed him. "It's our day off," She could hear the smirk in his voice.

      "It is," She giggled. Spencer faked a gag.

      "I was thinking I could take you out to dinner tonight," She glanced down at her wrist, reminding herself of the beautiful work that hung off of it.

      "I would love to," Her cheeks burned a bright red.

      "Okay, I'll pick you up at eight," He offered. She sighed.

      "Okay," And with that, the call ended. Spencer shot a sly look at her and shook his head

      "What?" She put her phone back in her purse, her cheeks still warm.

      "Nothing," He said defensively. "How are you gonna tell him?" He asked, shifting his attention to the road again. Her eyes shot wide open.

      "Tell him— are you kidding?" Her tone was lighthearted and joking, but she wasn't happy about keeping it from him. "I can't,"

      "Listen, I know it's none of my business," Spencer was more serious. "But I really don't think that's a good idea," He was going to be supportive of whatever she decided but he could just tell this wouldn't end well, especially with their job.

      "I'll support you no matter what, but just know-"

      "I know, I know," She sighed. "I'll tell him eventually,"

[breakingsomething]

the fall part twenty one - rise

basic summary: marvin and naomi try to be normal. the jackson-schneeplestein brothers aren't getting along. and jackie, aaron and rhea do something that may have disastrous consequences.

trigger warnings: mentions of suicide, murder and abuse, experimentation, hypnotism

tagslist: @synonymsforzombie @spicydanhowell @skyewardlight @dreaming-of-stories-and-stars @cest-mellow @graveyardlettuce @lower-your-expectationss

summary of what happened last time since it's been a full month: jamie hung out with his family on his birthday, resulting in a small breakfast over carving pumpkins. anti brought jamie a birthday gift. rhea and aaron had an argument that ended with jackie accidentally hypnotism aaron to make him shut up.

-

"you know," marvin said, pausing to sip his hot chocolate. "this is nice."

"it is," naomi agreed. she fumbled with her muffin, picking out a blueberry and popping it in her mouth. "it's been a long time since i've been on a proper date with someone. years, even."

the two of them had made an impulse decision that morning to go to costa and buy muffins and drinks, and it was turning out to have been a fantastic idea. the weather wasn't the best, and it was drizzling outside, but naomi gleefully exclaimed that she loved the rain, and marvin joked that maybe she was a flower herself and needed it to photosynthesize, and naomi pouted and called him a fire, jokingly suggesting that the rain might put him out and teach him how to have fun. he was very glad they had decided to sit outside now. they could listen to the rain from their cozy spot under the canopy as they drank their warm drinks, watching people go by. the air smelled like fresh rain. like jamie's magic, marvin thought, but less sharp. less cold. jamie was like ice. always had been. it was strange to think about.

"you alright?" naomi asked, snapping marvin from his thoughts. she smirked, shaking cinnamon hair from her eyes as she put on an exaggerated playful tone. "enjoying the view?"

he laughed, leaning forward in his seat. "of course! these muffins are absolutely beautiful, stunning, really -"

she smacked his hand, laughing before taking a chunk out his muffin. "you're right, they are! especially yours." she flashed him a grin, a small smudge of chocolate on her lips. marvin brushed it away with his thumb, grinning and bumping their noses together. he could hear naomi giggling. "you're such a soft bastard. aren't you going to try and steal mine?"

"no, i am not, because i am the one winning," he said softly against her lips, then pressed his mouth to hers. she tasted like chocolate. he pulled away after a moment, chest shaking. "fuck, this is so much harder to do while i'm still laughing."

naomi dropped her head to his shoulder. "such a romantic," she chuckled. "god, we are becoming the sappiest couple, aren't we?"

"maybe so." he ran his fingers through her hair, watching a van trundle down the glistening street. "who cares? life is short, might as well drink hot chocolate and be cheesy in a costa. we're all gonna die anyway."

naomi sat up, shaking her head. "a romantic indeed," she deadpanned, rolling her eyes with a smile. she flicked a blueberry at him from her muffin. "you sure know exactly how to flirt with a girl -"

"hey, hey, hey, i'm clearly - clearly a fantastic flirt," he said, holding up both hands. "you're dating me, after all."

"ha, yes, because i felt bad for your awful romancing skills -"

"rude!"

they continued jokingly bickering as they ate until both muffins were fully gone, partially eaten by each magician. the rain had gotten heavier, and naomi pulled up her hood, tapping her chin as she stared off into space. marvin tapped her arm. "penny for your thoughts?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. naomi jolted then sighed, relaxing into her hand and staring down at her hands.

"i dunno," she murmured. "so much is happening all at once. i feel like it can't all be real. you know what i mean?" she traced a finger round her plate in circles, frowning. "that could be just me. i swear i've been taking my meds."

marvin shook his head. "no, i get it. everything's bullshit, world is a fuck." he glanced around before lighting the tips of his fingers on fire and brushing them over his drink to heat it up again. "but it is real, ok? you're not imagining this or making it up."

she chuckled. "i don't know whether to be reassured by that or not. also, stop with the flames. you'll get us in trouble."

marvin shrugged. "nah, the veil will cover it up," he said nonchalantly, but extinguished the flames anyway. he sighed, rubbing his forehead. "mhm. i'm so tired, nai."

"go to bed earlier, then," she said playfully, but with a quiet tone. she pat his hand, watching the rain fall.

he heard his phone ring.

"shit," he muttered, not moving to answer it. instead, he leaned back in his seat, picking up his spoon and twirling it in the air. "weather's nice."

"your phone's ringing," naomi pointed out.

"let it ring." he reached across the table and kissed her again, touching the back of her head gently. "we should do this more often."

she giggled and was about to say something else when marvin's phone went off again. he sat back with an exaggerated groan, rolling his eyes to the sky.

"place your bets," he announced sarcastically, pulling his phone out and blowing a raspberry at naomi's amused expression. "will it be… chase, calling to ask if i ate the last bag of prawn cocktail crisps? i did, by the way, but don't tell him that. or will it be henrik, calling to ask where i am despite saying i was going out with you this morning? or will it inexplicably be anti, using the scraps of magic he has left to yell at me for some reason? find out within the next couple seconds, because - hello?"

"marvin," came kazuki's voice. "so, bad news. your magic book has been stolen, and i don't think it takes a genius to find out who took it."

-

chase clinked the spoon against the side of a cup as he stirred his tea, pausing to dump more sugar in it. henrik watched all this from the kitchen table, slightly amused. "mein gott, chase, you're going to have a heart attack and die."

"and when that happens, i'll have a doctor right here to save me," chase grinned smoothly before knocking back half the cup. immediately after he did he began to splutter, coughing and dripping tea down his chin. "shit - shit, fuck, hot hot hot hot!"

"lovely," henrik deadpanned, taking a calm sip of his coffee. "how graceful a man you are."

chase flipped him off, wiping his chin as jamie wandered in, confusion plastered across his face. "good morning?" he signed, his expression suggesting it was a question.

"morning, james," henrik greeted warmly. "chase is dying."

"that's not ideal," jamie said, sitting down at the table and stretching his arms out. "are you alright, chase?"

chase nodded, face bright red. "very hot," he coughed. "very very hot. i'm fine, i'll live."

henrik chuckled, shaking his head. "you're a wreck of a man. drink slower. or do i need to talk to you like you're connor?"

chase rolled his eyes. "shut it, you. where's marvin?"

"out with naomi," henrik said, shrugging. "he should be back soon. all dying aside, how are you this fine morning?"

chase finished his coughing fit and laughed, grabbing a tea towel to wipe up the spilled drink. "doing alright. how's you, james? sleep better?"

he nodded, smiling softly, but his eyes were far away. chase frowned, picking up his mug and sitting back down at the table. "hey, what's up?"

jamie shrugged. "anti," was all he signed. "thinking."

"oh, yeah," chase murmured, suddenly interested in his patterned socks. he and everyone else was all too aware of anti's visit a couple days ago to bring jamie his gifts. he noticed henrik had noticeably soured, staring into his mug. chase cleared his throat. "what… what are you thinking?"

another shrug. "don't know. a lot."

henrik muttered something that neither of them could quite catch. chase decided to ignore it, but jamie sat up, looking at him. "what?"

henrik blew the air out his cheeks, watching jamie's hands but not his face. a benefit of speaking sign, chase and henrik had long ago agreed on, was the lack of eye contact. "i don't want to talk about anti," he mumbled. jamie's face fell just slightly.

"ok," he signed carefully. "don't have to."

there was a tension in the air now that hadn't been there before. chase caught a breath, sipping his tea cautiously.

"you never ate the cookie he brought, did you?" henrik asked without warning. jamie raised an eyebrow, folding his arms across the table.

"what's it to you?" he said, movements almost flat. the tension was obvious now, and chase found himself standing up to make another mug of tea. why, he didn't know, but his heart was racing and he didn't want to turn to look at the others.

still, he could hear henrik's scowl in his voice. "because he could have poisoned it it something. who knows with that man?"

there was a pause, and chase made himself turn round to see jamie's response. "i know," he was saying cooly. "he's my brother and i know him better than any of the rest of you."

"i'm sure you do," henrik muttered, and both him and chase jumped when jamie suddenly slammed his fist to the table, making henrik's mug bounce. jamie had ice in his eyes, cold and unnerving. despite how ridiculously selfish it sounded, chase was glad he wasn't the one on the receiving end of the glare. if looks could kill, henrik would be very dead.

"if you have a problem," jamie signed, slowly, meticulously, so no one missed a word. "tell me upfront instead of being vague."

the kettle had finished boiling, and chase turned to finish his tea while henrik responded. "well," he heard him say, silent fury evident in his tone. "there is the small detail of your brother having held me in his own torture basement for over two months. i feel like - i feel like, with all the shit going on with jackie lately, you lot have forgotten this!"

chase flinched as jamie's fist hit the table again, slightly less furiously than the first time. "no one has forgotten," he signed, and chase wondered if he was imagining the trace of rain and petrichor in the air. "we know anti is not a good person. and we -"

"you're saying "we" a lot," henrik interrupted, and his gaze was also cold, calculating. he and jamie were never opposites; they were two peas in a pod, far too similar for their own good. "i don't think "you" know anything."

the room went very, very silent.

"you think so." jamie's expression was blank, his hands moving far too slowly. "you think i don't know anything, think i don't understand anti."

"jamie," henrik said, suddenly uncertain. "i - didn't mean -"

"no," jamie said. the smell of petrichor was stronger now, something cold radiating off of the man. "no. you spent two months of your life with anti. silly me. of course you understand him better than i do."

"i wasn't implying -"

"then what were you saying?" jamie suddenly exploded, knocking his chair back to hit the fridge as he stood. chase grabbed his mug, burning his fingers as he held it. "what, that you've seen him at his worst? that i couldn't possibly understand how bad he is? that only you went through trauma and that makes it all the worse for you?"

henrik's eyes were wide, and he managed to shake his head, month opening like he wanted to say something. jamie smirked dangerously, coldly. "oh, now you change your tune. because you remember that i spent - how long? over two years with anti? that i've seen far more of him than you ever will?"

jameson hit the table a third time, cold rage lining his face. "i've seen him at his best and his worst. i've seen him when he's vulnerable and hurting, i've seen him covered in blood after a kill, i've seen him have a panic attack after a nightmare, i've seen him when he's manic and making terrible decisions, i've seen him when he's shaking and desperate for someone to touch him, i've seen him depressed as fuck and joking about suicide, i've seen him furious and not paying attention to who it is he's hurting - and who do you think was there for him each time? who stitched up his wounds when he got into fights that he swore weren't intentional, who comforted him when he was hyperventilating and couldn't breathe through panic, who stopped him from committing multiple murders, who took the blows when there was no one else around?" jameson paused, resting his hands for a brief moment. "that was dear dapper jack. dapper jack the time traveler, dapper jack who was fucking made for anti, dapper jack whose very purpose was to fix anti's mistakes. do you have any idea of the things i've seen?"

there was a very silent pause.

"no," henrik murmured, eyes cast to the table. "i don't."

jameson wasn't smiling anymore, even mockingly. "that's right. you don't. you haven't seen the things i've rewinded, the things only i remember."

he took a shuddering breath, his gaze suddenly far away. "you haven't seen. you don't know how many times i've watched people die, people break, people say things they didn't mean to say. i've seen anti die, did you know? i've seen anti break and nearly kill himself, kill me. i've rewinded in my last moments of life. you - you don't even know it, but i've saved your lives as well. and i remember. i always remember." he goes silent. "i always remember."

chase's tea was lukewarm now. he still didn't drink it. henrik didn't say anything. his eyes were transfixed on jamie's, looking far away.

"so don't you dare tell me," jamie continued, and there was something in his face now - grief, a deep sadness, some kind of pain. "don't you dare tell me that i don't know anything. don't you dare. because i know far, far more than you could even begin to comprehend. far more than i wish i knew."

he raised his hand like he was going to hit the table again, but he didn't. he just stormed out the room, leaving behind only the smell of rain.

neither chase nor henrik spoke for a moment. chase was shaking. henrik was staring into the distance, and then let his head fall to the table, forehead resting against the wood.

"ich bin ein idiot," he mumbled. chase didn't disagree. just sipped his near cold tea and looked away.

-

"this is a terrible idea."

"oh, don't be such a paranoid worrywart, mckenzie. this is going to work perfectly."

jackie, aaron and rhea were in the city centre, sitting next to the fountain and quietly planning things out. rhea had insisted they all went out to get fresh air, which aaron had also protested was a bad idea ("we're literally fugitives running from the magic law, rhea, in what world is going out for no reason a good idea -"), and now the three of them were here instead of at rhea's place. and jackie, quite honestly, was beginning to get tired of the two of them fighting.

"i'm beginning to get tired of the two of you fighting," he sighed, stretching his leg out down the steps. "we're all in the same boat, so why don't we get along?"

"i think i've made my side of this plainly clear," aaron muttered, but didn't say more. rhea smiled up at jackie, and his heart swelled with guilt. he knew why aaron was being more reluctant to fight. his head still hurt thinking about the hypnotism he'd accidentally placed on his boyfriend, and he looked away, staring at the shops across the street.

"we're all enemies of restitutio now," rhea was saying, tapping on the notebook she'd brought along with her to doodle in and take notes that neither jackie nor aaron understood. "so we have to be really careful. i'm probably going to be your best bet, being blake's sister and all. i know how to get in and out. mckenzie, you know where the other two necklaces are, correct? i'm assuming they're in the same place as jackson's one."

aaron frowned. "ok, first of all, stop calling him jackson. second of all, do you not know any of this information yourself? i figured with you being bl- being - being the stiùiriche's sister and all."

rhea smirked at his inability to say the name. "i can call jackson whatever i want. why, does it annoy you? also, blake always hid the information from me. guess he never trusted me, huh? he was right not to, but it still breaks my heart." she clapped a hand over her chest, expression unchanging. jackie sighed, preparing to jump in the middle of another fight.

but he didn't have to. aaron just grinned sharply, shaking hair out his face. "ah, so you're relying on the dunderhead to get you the necklaces, huh? how funny. yes, i know where they are. do we have, like, a map of the place?"

rhea rolled her eyes. "a map? are you serious? oh yes, mckenzie, i have a map of the goddamn secret magic organization base that my family has been working to keep hidden for years -"

aaron threw up his hands. "ok, so there's no map, i get it, chill. sorry for insulting your bloodline or whatever." he grabbed rhea's notebook from the fountain steps and began to draw, much to rhea's loud dismay.

"did you - are you drawing a map?" she asked in disbelief. "how do you remember the layout so well?"

"i just do," aaron sing-songed, the red pen gliding across the page. "with our knowledge combined, then i suppose we'll know enough that this isn't a suicide mission. rhea, you're taking the stiùiriche, yeah?"

she nodded. "yep. shouldn't be too hard, he's a pussy when it comes to me. loves me too much, even though i've done such terrible things." another smirk split her face. "so full of weakness. he and your anti are very similar. think themselves strong but are honestly just pathetic. slightly unrelated, but do you guys wanna hear something fun?"

jackie nodded while aaron groaned. "is this something that's gonna get us killed?" he sighed deeply. rhea placed a finger over her lips, gathering up her stuff and leaping to her feet. jackie and aaron scrambled after her, exchanging glances.

"here's a secret," rhea said, and she appeared to be leading them to the co-op on the corner. "i'm not actually a shapeshifter. i know, surprising, right? but i'm not."

aaron snorted softly as they entered the shop, the air instantly warmer and the bustling of people replaced with the hum of a heater. "like hell you're not. we've seen you do it."

rhea grinned. "have you? have you really seen anything? nothing is real anymore, mckenzie, better get used to it."

"if you're not a shifter, then what?" jackie interjected quickly before aaron could say anything in response. "you can change your appearance and such. that's something i'm certain of."

rhea walked down the frozen food aisle, casually inspecting the variety of pizza brands. "i can change my appearance, yes, but not like that. you both know of the veil. what would you say if i told you it was possible to control it?"

jackie blinked. "i'd say… nothing surprises me anymore?"

rhea grinned. her eyes changed from golden yellow to bright pink, growing larger, hair shrinking back into her scalp as her nose turned up and smile became wider, teeth darkening to a near solid black. "not real," she said, and skipped down to the next aisle, grinning at them before changing back with a crack. "just an illusion."

"you're… you're saying you can manipulate the veil?" aaron said skeptically. he crossed his arms firmly. "prove it."

rhea cocked her head, raising an eyebrow. then she walked up to the cash register, a spring in her step, and grabbed a bag of popcorn and a chocolate bar from the shelf next to it. looking the woman behind the counter dead in the eye, she turned and left the store without paying. jackie and aaron followed, mouths agape in shock.

"how did the cashier not notice?" jackie said in disbelief, following rhea back to the fountain. rhea shrugged, smiling wickedly.

"veil manipulation," she said casually. "you could probably do it too. not as well as me, but you could do it. here, let me show you."

she raises her hands, motioning for the other two to follow her. jackie does so, feeling a bit silly. "you have to concentrate on what you want other people to see. it's like knitting in the air, but with illusions. have either of you done illusions before?"

jackie nodded, while aaron shook his head. "i specialize mostly in attack based magic," aaron explained.

"and i used to do light based illusions for -" jackie paused, stiffening. he didn't want to think about chase's kids right now. "yeah. is it anything like that?"

rhea raised an eyebrow at jackie's cutoff, but didn't press it. "in a way. but it's not like manipulating a real thing you can see. light is different. you're taking actual strands of light from the sun, or from fabricated light if you're indoors, and weaving them into shapes. the veil is different because you can't see it, and you can only feel it if you're connected to it. and if you want to connect with it, you have to understand exactly what you're doing. let's start simple." she turned to them, cross legged, and slowly blinked. her eyes changed from gold to purple. "you have to be confident, and you have to be aware. falter, and the illusion falters."

both men blinked, practically straining with the useless effort. "how are you so good at it?" jackie asked, frustrated.

"years of practice," was the response. "since i was born. my mother taught me. she always favoured me over blake, and she was an incredible magician. better than my father, i'd say. honestly, me and blake should have fought for the position of stiùiriche. i would have won." her eyes cleared and she shook her head, realizing how off track she was getting. "but yes, it's hard. we'll have plenty of time to learn later." she straightens, pulling out her notebook again and grinning at jackie and aaron satisfactorily. "for now, we have a magical organization to rob."

-

"so," aaron said. "this is it?"

jackie could not believe the irony of there being a secret entrance to restitutio right next to anti's old waterworks. a crack in the universe just between the trees, a literal hole in reality that no one else had ever found. "holy shit," he breathed, shaking his head in shock. "no fucking way. no fucking way this has been here since you were a kid and the bastard somehow never found it."

rhea shrugged, trying not to look too pleased with herself. "i found it years ago. when you told me anti used to live here, i almost couldn't believe it." she slipped through the trees, narrowly avoiding catching her hair on a branch. "to be fair, you'd have to be an extremely powerful magician to find this without knowing the spell word, and anti is not, and never was, a powerful magician. oh, bitch boy can teleport and fly as a cloud of static? bitch boy can fuck with computers? he's not special. he can't even fully control it - sorry, couldn't, because he's got nothing now, huh? well." she shot jackie a glance. "almost nothing."

jackie winced, remembering anti's brief teleportation that had managed to hurt rhea. he still didn't understand how that had happened, given that jackie thought he had all his magic. "unimportant now. we need to focus on where we're going. you two know the place far better than i do, so -"

"yes, we know, jackie," rhea snapped. she pulled aside a branch and sarcastically gestured for them to go through. "after you. and when you get inside, duck as soon as you can. go."

"wait, the entrance is here?" aaron started, and rhea rolled her eyes before pushing him through. aaron yelped and - disappeared. jackie was given only a moment to gape before he was pushed after him.

he was now in a black room, and a quick, frantic grab around him told him he was in some sort of closet. there was a door in front that was almost entirely made of glass, and jackie now understood why rhea had told them to duck. he feels aaron beside him, breathing heavily in the dark. "hey," he managed to say aloud. "how's it going?"

"shut up," hissed another voice, and jackie jumped before realizing it was rhea. "we're in a closet that's connected to a hallway, so anyone could just walk by. stay still while i check."

they didn't move as rhea slowly rose, a faint mist around her face. "coast's clear," she said softly, and the door opened with only a tiny click, exposing them to a plain white hall with no other defining features other than a camera on the wall. rhea sighed. "jackson, would you like the honour of fixing that?"

jackie really wasn't accustomed to using anti's magic. but he'd been practicing, and with a single flick of his hand, he could somehow see into the camera, see every inner working, see everything it was connected to. "woah," he breathed, raising his hand higher like he was trying to get a signal. "if this is how anti always saw things, i can see why he went bloody mental."

"hurry up and loop them," rhea reminded, and jackie startled before doing as she asked. with the cameras fixed, they fully stepped out into the hall, pressed against the wall as they caught their breaths, rhea already calculating the way. "ok, so jackie, you keep an eye on the cameras. i'll do my best to hide us all if anything happens. mckenzie, you're our backup in case everything goes to shit. you're our attack dog."

"course i am," aaron muttered, but didn't complain. they set off round the corner, rhea still leading, aaron in tow. they didn't see anyone for a while, and they moved slowly, jackie getting the hang of looping the camera feeds as they went.

suddenly, rhea stopped. "shit!' she gasped, and threw her hands up. a blurry shield of sorts lifted over them, and they all went dead silent as two men walked by, wearing dark outfits and speaking in hushed tones. pressed against the wall, the three of them didn't breathe. jackie could feel all three of their thoughts aligning to please don't catch us, please don't catch us, please don't catch us. he could hear aaron's heart beating and gripped his hand tightly, feeling how hot his palms were.

"- don't understand why she never bloody listens to me," the first man was saying quietly. he had light brown hair and almost greyish skin, a cloak shrugged over his shoulders. "i do everything for her. everything! i gave up meat for her, i basically stopped smoking for her - and yet i'm the problem! what the fuck does she want?"

"maybe you're shite in bed," sniggered the other man, who had dark skin and an unfortunate mullet. "or maybe you're just a dick and she doesn't like you."

the first man elbowed him in the side, slowing to check his phone. jackie's legs were shaking, and he lifted a hand to clamp over his mouth so he wouldn't cry out. "fuck off," the man scoffed as the second man laughed. "she loves me really. she just never cares - i say "i'm off to work," and she says "are you actually going to meet up with edward again" and maybe i am, but she doesn't know that and still doesn't trust me!"

they slowly began to walk again, and the second man slapped the first man on the back. "perry," he giggled, shaking his head. "sometimes i wish you'd listen to the horseshit that came out your mouth before you made me hear it."

the two of them continued bickering quietly as they rounded the corner, and as soon as they were gone, jackie gasped and fell fully into aaron, burying his face in his chest. "motherfucker," he heard rhea say as she dropped the illusion around them. "that guy was a right prick. i hope his partner cuts his d- jackson? fuck, what's up?"

jackie was clinging to the front of aaron's jacket, shaking. "i -" was all he managed to get out for a moment. "mistake, this is bad, we need to stop and go back -"

rhea scoffed. "don't be such a pussy. you get one scare and that's enough to send you running?"

"he said he doesn't want to!" aaron said loudly from above him. jackie felt the man's fingers curl into his hair protectively, holding him close. "and i don't want to either. this is fucking bullshit, and i -"

"hello?"

they all froze.

rhea went very, very pale.

"blake," she mouthed, and grabbed the two men by the collar, yanking them down the hall as fast as she could. they flew through the door to a stairwell and practically fell down them, listening to voices getting closer. at the bottom was another door, which they shoved through into a different hall with a fake window on the end. jackie could barely breathe, wiping cameras as quickly as he could, and then suddenly rhea was shoving them into a room and shutting the door, leaning against the small window. they could see a blurry shape on the other side - jackie couldn't tell if it was the stiùiriche or not - before they disappeared, leaving the three of them in silence.

"thank fuck," rhea whispered, voice very high. "that was definitely blake, and he would have seen through any of my illusions. shit, we're lucky to have gotten away with that."

aaron was tugging on jackie's sleeve. "jay," he hissed. jackie couldn't even turn, just closed his eyes and let his forehead rest against the door.

"where are we now?" he said quietly. his breathing was slowing back to normal, and he shuddered briefly, sighing.

"jay," aaron said again. "jackson."

"we should be just under the floor we were on," rhea murmured. "we're close now, so we might as well -"

"guys!"

they both turned in unison to see what aaron wanted. "what's the pr-" jackie started, before he finally took a look at the room they were in.

it genuinely looked like a lab from a horror movie. the room was lit up blue, a desk and trolley full of beakers and surgical tools next to bottles of multicoloured liquids, like potions. curtains hung over strange rectangular boxes. but none of that was what they were focusing on. in the centre of the room was a large, complex looking bed surrounded by black machines, and in the bed was a man. dark, greying skin and shaved coiled hair, wearing a white hospital gown. tubes stabbed into his skin, connecting to the machine. a nasal cannula on his face. pale and sickly, dead looking. it took jackie a moment to recognize him and when he did, it was like a direct kick to the chest.

"holy shit," aaron said in a high voice. "is that - is that not your brother's ex boyfriend?"

because yes, it was raymond. marvin's bastard ex. jackie couldn't breathe.

rhea stepped forward, eyes sparkling with curiosity. "my god, they did it," she murmured, tapping the side of the machine. "the fuckers went and did it."

"did - what?" jackie managed to choke out. "i - rhea, what are they doing to him?"

rhea turned back and rolled her eyes. "why do you care? it's your fault he's here in the first place. you chose to bring him here. didn't you say you hated him, hated him the same way you hated anti?" a raised eyebrow, another smirk. "didn't you want to hurt him?"

"this is so fucked," aaron sobbed, clamping his hands over his ears as he groaned in disgust. "rhea, for fuck's sake, tell us what they're doing to him!"

she sighed. "they're extracting his magic." she said this in a tone so casual that it took a moment to sink in. "i didn't think they'd manage it, but this machine is new. it tears every strip of magic from your body and, depending how much of it was in you, you'll either literally shrivel up and die or you'll lose half your senses and maybe a limb or two."

aaron turned and threw up. jackie found himself at rhea's side, watching the skeletal man's chest rise and fall, wheezing. "is he dead?" jackie breathed, something hot and unpleasant stirring in his chest. "and - why are they taking his magic?"

"he's not dead, no," rhea said matter of factly, leaning against the dark machine. "not yet. and as for your second question - think of it this way. you know how you took part of anti's soul and therefore gained most of his magic and a bunch of his memories? it's like that, only slightly different. they don't take the soul. only the pure, unreached magic. they use it to fuel their own. so they won't gain this man's powers when they use it, but instead, their own magic will be stronger."

"this is so messed up," aaron moaned, straightening from the corner he'd been vomiting in. he was pale, shivering. "we can't - we can't do this. we can't."

"oh, come on!" rhea said loudly, throwing up her hands and letting then flop to her sides. "you helped torture anti, did you not? he's human too, probably! human like this guy! both of them pricks, correct? both of them people who have hurt one or more of your brothers? why is it so wrong for anti to hurt and not him?"

even jackie didn't have an answer. not only that, but… there was a small, disgusted part of him that was almost satisfied to see raymond like this.

he wondered what marvin would say if he could see him now.

"this isn't important right now," aaron suddenly spat. he stormed towards them and grabbed jackie's hand, holding it tightly in his own. "are we going to get these bloody necklaces or what? let's go, i'm tired of fucking standing here."

both rhea and jackie were surprised by aaron's sudden change of heart, but neither one complained. they checked that the coast was clear and set off again, clicking the door behind them. jackie didn't look back at raymond.

"blake's corridor is over here," rhea said, guiding them through a hall and briefly throwing up a veiled illusion to hide them from someone walking by. jackie held his breath until they were gone. "the stiùiriche always gets a corridor to themself, lucky bastard. mckenzie, this is your time to shine. hopefully we can get in and out without too much trouble, but if not…" she cracked her neck. "blake is mine."

the hallway was dark, and no one was around. "he doesn't like people being around," rhea said quietly. their footsteps were the only sound they could hear. "back when he was announced as the new stiùiriche, even i wasn't usually allowed to - shit!"

she grabbed them and pulled them against the wall. on the staircase, seen through the window across the opposing room, staring right at them… was a man. short brown hair, pale skin, a black hoodie. jackie recognized him. fuck, but jackie recognized him.

is someone up above trying to fuck with me today? he thought. what the hell is going on?

"shouldn't we move?" aaron said. "he's seen us!"

"too late," rhea murmured. "way too late."

the man watched them.

"will he tell the stiùiriche?" jackie asked, heart racing.

"most likely," rhea replied.

aaron leaped forward, holding up his hands with a look of confusion on his face. "am i missing something? who is that?"

"unimportant," rhea said immediately. "let's go. if he's over there, blake probably is too. hopefully we'll be ok."

she took off down the hall. aaron fell into step beside jackie, shaking his arm to get his attention. "jackson. are you hiding something from me?"

guilt rolled in his chest. "shut up," he mumbled, hating himself as he said it. "i'll tell you later."

he did not plan to tell him later.

aaron let go of his hand.

"is this it?" rhea asked. they'd gone through another few rooms, seeing no one, and was now in what looked like some sort of strange dressing room, lit up yellow, lined with shelves and full of closets and desks. "or are we near it? you guys are so lucky i know the spell words to get into blake's places, by the way, otherwise you'd so be screwed. this place is fucking weird."

"we're close," aaron muttered. he'd been very quiet since seeing the man on the stairs. he moved across the room, opening closets and peeking inside. "i found this place when i left a meeting with the stiùiriche and went looking through some of the rooms while the spells were down for me. i was a rather well trusted member, and the magician who was to escort me out basically told me to go by myself. normally, i wouldn't have taken anything, but something seemed to be almost… compelling me. and i guess i'm glad i did." he paused in his search, expression unreadable. "maybe."

a few minutes of looking, and it was rhea who found what they were looking for in one of the many closets in the room. "blake's hidden safe," she breathed, staring into a black void with no apparent end. "i never knew where it was. he never let me in here. mckenzie, you legend!"

aaron just snorted, looking distant. "yeah, sure. let's go in and get the shit and then go home and be powerful, i guess." his tone was dripping with sarcasm.

jackie went in after rhea, staring in awe round the place. it was a literal abyss, with only a few glowing lights, like beacons. "your brother sure has a thing for creepy voids," jackie joked, trying to lighten the mood.

rhea wasn't paying attention. she marched across the floor - jackie blinked behind his glasses, because it looked like she was floating - and went up to the farthest beacon, eyes wide. "here," she gasped, beckoning jackie over. "quick, come here!"

it was the necklaces, laying on two white pedestals under glowing lights from an unknown source. they looked a lot like jackie's necklace, only slightly different colours; while jackie's was jet black, one was a deep silver with a red gem and the other was a golden copper with a green gem. "souls," rhea murmured, picking up the golden one and turning it over in her hands. "weapons. i wonder if they work the same as yours, jackie? mckenzie, come and - mckenzie?"

they both turned. aaron was gone.

"well, that's not good," rhea said lightly.

"shit," jackie hissed. he grabbed the other necklace, wincing at how it burned his hands, and darted back over to where the glowing entrance of the safe was. his feet didn't make a sound as he ran. "we got what we needed, let's find aaron and go."

"aw, do we have to?" rhea complained. she was fixing the necklace to her neck, letting it fall to her chest. "he's boring, can we leave him? he's probably off being emo because you wouldn't tell him who that other guy that you handed over to blake was."

"shut up!" jackie spat, stumbling out of the cupboard. panic was beginning to spike in his chest, and was it just his imagination, or were the lights flickering? "this was too easy, this was - this was a mistake. this was so a mistake, oh my god -"

"oh, yes. it was definitely a mistake."

that last voice wasn't rhea's. or aaron's.

jackie turned to face the stiùiriche himself.

he looked the same as last time he'd seen him. salt and pepper hair, galaxy suit that shifted as he walked, black cape, black eyes. he carried an aura of power and of demanding respect, head high and eyes blazing. already jackie was sinking, submitting to the pure magic the man radiated.

but then rhea stepped in. "blake," she said curtly, a polite grin on her face that only thinly disguised her malice. "how have you been?"

the stiùiriche glared down at them, arching an eyebrow. "stealing from me again, sister," he said, and he was looking at the necklaces in both their hands. "haven't you taken enough?"

rhea scoffed, her mask of indifference slipping. "mm, have i? i can think of a few more things i could strip you of. your position of power, your heart, your -"

jackie suddenly found himself swimming out the haze of near magic hypnotism that he'd been under, immediately beginning to shout. "where's aaron?" he cried, swaying on his feet. "what have you done with him?"

the sti��iriche frowned. "aaron mckenzie? the traitor man, the one who stole from me the first time? he is here too?"

"don't play dumb!" jackie roared, and before he could even think, his eyes and veins were blackening and the necklace was tightening on his chest. "give him back to me!"

then a hand was on his shoulder, pushing him back down when he hadn't even realized he was rising. "stop," rhea said sharply. "he's mine."

the lights in the room snapped off and plunged them into darkness.

when they turned back on… they weren't really back on. they were in another black void, like they always seemed to be with this guy. "is this one of your magic specialties?" jackie spat, leaning against rhea to keep her close. "weird black rooms?"

"pocket universes," he heard blake say, his voice echoing all around. "my specialty, yes, next to my… natural charm. hypnotism. i'm very good at it, jackieboy man, wouldn't you agree?"

"i -" he tried to direct a bolt of magic towards him, but the void seemed to swallow it up, and he couldn't even seem to pinpoint the stiùiriche's voice. "shut up! just shut up! stop it!"

"don't let him get to you," rhea shouted. she pressed her back to his, and the two of them briefly were one, spinning round, on defense, watching. "he uses emotion to his advantage. use your light! you're a photokinesis magician, are you not?"

jackie breathed in sharply, whimpering in sudden pain. "i am, i am, but - i - since the necklace, i -"

something began to laugh. "oh, that is rich," came the voice of the stiùiriche, and a sudden wave of magic hit the two of them, causing rhea to stumble and jackie to fall to the floor. "your light magic - it isn't compatible with the black soul magic that you stole, is it? the irony. the irony!"

"shut the fu͠cķ ͠u͞p̶!"̴ jackie screamed, and his magic began to thunder through his veins. rhea howled, and she was a wolf, she was an owl, she was a beast. something glowed - the stiùiriche's suit - and he hit them again. jackie, for a moment, couldn't move. he could barely see rhea, lashing out with coils of weak darkness, and blake, laughing, laughing.

"your illusions don't work on me, piuthar," the man said loudly, and jackie's vision spun. black inky shadows seeped from his eyes and nose and ears and in between his fingernails, and he attempted to use it to push himself to his feet. it worked, and he stumbled, looking frantically for rhea as blake rose, never staying in one place. "i see right through you. always have. how goes your quest to redeem yourself, rhea bird?"

"don't you dare," she hissed in the voice of a snake. something collided with flesh. something burned. "i have redeemed myself plenty without you. i have many powerful magicians under my control, wrapped around my little finger. you have no idea."

jackie did not know what she was talking about. he shot a bolt towards the dire direction of the man's voice, and seemed to get a lucky shot. the stiùiriche screamed, and something blew into jackie's face as he swayed, trying to get to rhea. "fuck," he moaned, feeling his body go light. "rhea, aaron, m-marvin… marvin…"

"where's your fucking boyfriend?" rhea cried, and jackie saw her leap aside, something dark coiled in her hands. "he was our attack dog, the bastard! this necklace isn't doing shit!"

jackie was going numb. his stomach lurched, head spinning with hypnotism, stronger than anti's own. fuck, he wished he knew how to control all this magic better. he was starting to become delirious. "marvin!" he yelled, voice breaking. "i can't - aaron, marvin!"

"jackson!"

aaron's voice. through jackie's blurred vision, he could see him in the broken doorway that hadn't been open a moment before. "come on!" he shouted, holding the doorway and straining as blake attempted to close it from where he was standing. "hurry up, i can't hold it!"

"traitor!" the stiùiriche screamed. rhea took this opportunity to roundhouse kick him right across the face. without even the use of magic, blake stumbled; the closing of the door paused, and jackie even within his delirious state knew to race over to the exit. "you traitor, pathetic boy! you could have had power!"

once again, jackie had no fucking clue what he was talking about. it seemed like he was feeling like that a lot lately. all he knew was that if he didn't get out, he'd be trapped in blake's pocket hell world, and that wasn't something he wanted. "rhea!" he called, feeling his legs beginning to give out beneath him. "come on, we've got what we need!"

the doorway was bright, and aaron's face felt even brighter. "thank fuck you're alright, hurry up!" he gasped, ushering jackie out the void. as soon as he was back in blake's strange dressing room - how many pocket universes did he have in these closets, because he was coming out of a different one than before - his mind began to clear, and fuck if it wasn't unnerving. had he really been hypnotized so easily, just by being in blake's presence? how was he still that weak, after everything?

"run, run, hurry!" aaron was shouting, and jackie snapped back to attention as the man grabbed his hand and pulled him out the room back into the hall. he could hear fighting behind them, something crashing, something exploding, something slamming into something else, someone screaming.

jackie tried to stop. "rhea, we need to wait for rhea!" he yelled over the noise. an alarm was blaring - rhea had mentioned that if they were caught, there was a chance an alarm could be set off. someone ahead was shouting - pounding footsteps, magic blasts - "stop, aaron, we have to make sure rhea's ok!"

"fuck rhea!" aaron panted. three other magicians materialized in front of them. fire glowed in one of their hands, and jackie and aaron stopped dead. "shit, shit -"

one of them lifted a hand, chanting something -

and jackie threw himself into aaron's arms, wrapping his arms around him as the sound of static filled the air louder and louder like a broken crescendo -

and they were in the trees next to the waterworks again.

they held each other for about thirty seconds, neither man daring to breathe, shaking, listening to each other's heartbeats in the silence.

"you teleported," aaron said, his voice very high. "you glitched, you did it, we're out, you -"

"where were you?" jackie whispered. he was too scared to pull away, too scared to let aaron see the look on his face. too scared to look at aaron's face. "where did you go? you left us, i was - aaron, i was…"

aaron pressed his lips to jackie's head, holding him upright with a hand on his back. "had to do something," he mumbled, something jackie couldn't understand in his voice. "i'm sorry. i'm sorry."

an awful feel began to sink in jackie's chest. "aaron. if you did what i think you did… i think rhea will genuinely kill you."

"then let's leave her," he said loudly, and sat straight up, eyes wide and desperate. "i have the necklace, which i really didn't need, but i have it. thank you for getting it for me, by the way." he took it from jackie's hands, admiring the unnatural silver shine. "we… we can go. we don't need her."

jackie pulled away so he could look at aaron's face, though he kept his arms round him just to keep him grounded. "you - what? we can't leave rhea, what the hell? why would we do that?"

aaron hesitated. "jackson. she's - she's fucked, she's with her brother. there's nothing else we can do, babe, we have to -"

"oh, planning on leaving me, were you?"

the two of them whipped round to see that yes, it was rhea emerging from the trees. she must have gotten out through the hidden portal in the closet again. her hair was singed, her nose bleeding and scratched, but she was very much undoubtedly alive. "rhea," jackie breathed, and without thinking, he broke free from aaron and ran over to give her a hug. she didn't return it. "rhea, what happened, i thought you were -"

"dead?" she laughed. something in her voice was harsh and cold. she didn't appear to find it funny at all. "nope. just got a bit caught up. nice to see you waited for me, though."

jackie winced, stepping back between aaron and rhea. "i - i wanted to, rhea, but some magicians were closing in and i ended up teleporting -"

"what's your excuse?" she suddenly said, turning to aaron. the mood in the air soured even further, the tension thick enough to be suffocating. "why did you leave?"

aaron, to his credit, didn't break as she stared him down. he stood tall, unblinking. something unspoken traveled between them. a threat. a promise.

jackie couldn't stand it. "let's not do this," he said quickly, raising his hands to act as a shield between them. "we can talk later. we need to get away in case the stiùiriche follows us or something. come on."

for a moment, neither aaron nor rhea moved. then the woman smiled, snakelike. "ok then. let's go. we can talk about all this later, yeah? we've got all the time in the world."

jackie didn't like the threat in her voice. but he had no choice but to follow her out of the trees and back to anti's old waterworks.

[ravenbrenna09]

Unattainable - Chapter Four

AO3

...

bold = sending; italics = receiving

...

IT'S ANGST TIME.

So, anyways, I apparently can't decide how long it's going to take to finish this story because this is now SEVEN chapters long. And, once again, I can't begin to explain how much it means to me that you guys love this story. I'm so glad to be able to share this story with each and every one. I hope to have this story finished soon, but once I do, I'm going to take a brief break from writing Sobbe to focus on my other stories. Then, I will be back, likely writing Sander's POV and some other short-stories (and maybe some chaptered ones) if you guys are interested.

Either way, hope you're ready!

...

Also, I forgot this last time. This story was based this gifset by the lovely milanhendrickx (now @elus; follow her guys, she’s amazing)

...

As the group of them headed into the club, where Amber's cousin and Noor's classmate from her art school had invited them all out to the party, encouraging her to not only bring Moyo but to also drag the rest of them out as well, Robbe couldn’t help wanting to turn around, go back to his bedroom, and hiding beneath his covers. 

Since he had gotten that text from Sander, Robbe had spent too much time in his room, locked beneath the covers and working on his homework with lightning speed. It was something that had been a staple of his entire school career. There were a handful of times where his emotions would get so overwhelming that they would boggle him down, prevent him from doing work, but the majority of the time, he always ended up focusing on his work harder, trying to push past the pain and using it to focus on more important things.

But, that didn’t stop him from retreating inside of his room, blocking out his friends. 

After Robbe had finished classes on Monday, he had been home by 13:00, locking himself in his room and writing out the plan for his half of the project. By the time that he had finished the introductory statement, finalized his plan, and texted Yasmina to see if it sounded good, he glanced up and realized that it was almost 21:00. Jens had been periodically trying to get the door open to get Robbe to eat, but the latter only retreated further into himself, further into his books, until the door shook from a knock and there was a light sound of his name, “Robbe.” 

Zoë.

The blonde had gotten him to open the door, get dressed, and dragged him out of the apartment to get dinner. Robbe didn’t want to talk about it and she didn’t press, reaching out to take his hand without saying anything. On the way back to the apartment, he told her that he felt like an idiot, falling for someone who was so far out of his league that he couldn’t believe that he would even like someone as plain as Robbe. Zoë had listened, questioning when she needed to, and Robbe showed her a picture of Sander on his Instagram. There was a look in her eyes like she was going to look him up later, but she listened and clung to his arm. 

“He doesn’t know what he’s missing, Robbe,” she had told him, rubbing his arm. 

Robbe wanted to believe her, but he couldn’t. 

But, now, on Saturday, he finally let Jens drag him out of the apartment, over to this club where Amber’s cousin’s friend (or whatever) had invited everyone to an old school friend’s party. One of those, you know someone who knows someone who knows someone kind of deal and Robbe had been reluctantly dragged outside of the apartment, practically forcibly dressed by Lucas (“If I have to do this, so do you”), and brought to the club. 

“Don’t worry,” Jens had teased, wrapping an arm around his shoulders as Amber bounded over them to kiss Aaron’s cheek in greeting. “If you get any unwanted attention from girls, I promise that I’ll be your fake boyfriend.”

“Hey!” Lucas called as Robbe wiggled from Jens’ grasp to hug Amber. 

The blonde gripped him tightly before grabbing his arm (and Aaron’s hand) and proceeding to drag the pair of them up to the bouncer, who willingly let them all in. Once they were inside, Amber wrapped her arm around Robbe and dragged him into the club. It was odd, to Robbe at least. The two of them were friends, but friends of friends, who only really hung out together in school and whenever their friend groups came together. 

“Are you okay?” she questioned, suddenly. When Robbe gave her a questioning look, Amber quickly continued, “Aaron said that you have been hiding in your room and Zoë is really worried about you. I know that we aren’t particularly close, but you’re important to them. So, you’re important to me too.”

“I’ll be fine, Amber,” Robbe replied. “I promise.” 

There was a worried expression that passed Amber’s eye, but Aaron wrapped his arms around Amber, pulling the girl close and effectively pulling her attention from Robbe. Her arm was quickly replaced by Jens, who guided Robbe towards the bar. Lucas let out a sigh somewhere behind them, trailing behind. “Come on,” Jens spoke up, beaming at him. 

The club bass thumped loudly. The music was pumping loudly, making Robbe feel a little dizzy. The lights had been changed to a bright florescent purple and back to a neon blue. It was a frustratingly beautiful sight to see, for sure, watching the lights flicker so drastically between one color and the next. The party-goers on either side of them were dancing, grinding against one another to the beat of the music. 

Robbe wanted nothing more to be at home, cuddled under his covers. And, it wasn’t even because of everything that had happened with Sander. If given the opportunity, Robbe would always choose a quiet night at the flat with his friends. Too many times at parties, Robbe would end up in the bathroom, hiding out from the crowd and the heavy bass drum. Ironically, the boys had all met Noor in the bathroom of Jana’s home. He didn’t like being crowded and exposed, out in public like this. 

Sure, he liked to drink and hang out with his friends, but, if given the opportunity, he would much rather be in the comfort of his own apartment.

“We’re drinking the night away.”

“I’m not drinking,” Robbe spoke, letting out a sigh as he turned towards Jens. Despite the fact that it was a party, his best friend had only dressed in a hoodie and semi-fitting blue jeans. Lucas was already half-hanging on to him, his arms around Jens’ midsection so they wouldn’t be separated in the crowd. “I don’t even want to be here remember? I’m only here because your boyfriend decided that if he had to go, then I would have to go to.” 

Jens frowned, staring at him. They arrived at the bar, leaning against the barely exposed corner of the wooden bar. Robbe pushed himself up into an empty seat along on the edge of the bar, giving him the entire view of the dance floor. Jens leaned up against the counter, purposely sitting in front of his eye line. Lucas leaned up behind him, wrapping his arms around Jens’ torso and snuggled against his shoulderblade. Jens naturally leaned back against him, his brown eyes still trained on Robbe. 

“Robbe,” Jens spoke. “It’s okay. You’re allowed to drink. Lucas and I will go ahead and make sure that you don’t go home with some random stranger.” 

Lucas picked his head off Jens’ shoulder, glaring at him slightly. “Don’t take my drinking away from me,” he spoke, light and half-hearted, but Robbe could tell that it had simply been a joke. 

There was a protective, worried look that had crossed Jens’ face as he stood opposite of Robbe. There was a concerned look in Lucas’ eyes as well, glancing over at him with a perplexed expression on his face. Since the two of them had started dating, Lucas had quickly grown to be one of Robbe’s closest friends. He was about as protective of Robbe as Jens was. Maybe even more so. The two of them were similar, more similar than they had expected, and Robbe thought that Jens would be foolish not to keep him around more. 

Lucas unraveled himself from Jens, stepping forward to place a hand on Robbe’s shoulder. “Are you sure that you’re okay?” he questioned. 

Robbe opened his mouth to respond, but someone popped up with bright platinum blonde hair. For a split second, Robbe’s mind registered it as Sander, his heart making a brief palpitation in his chest. But, as he turned, spotting the cherry red lipstick and mischevious smile, Robbe felt disappoint creep into his bones as Zoë wrapped her arm around Lucas’s arm, tugging him away. Sander wasn’t here. And, even if he was, he wouldn’t be interested in being with Robbe. 

“Hey,” Jens spoke as Zoë tugged Lucas away. “Where are you taking my boyfriend?”

“I’m taking him to the bathroom so I can put eyeliner on him!”

“No, you’re not. He’s too irresistible and we need to take care of Robbe!” 

However, despite his shout about taking care of Robbe, Jens had already turned away to blindly follow them through the crowd, away from the bar and away from Robbe, who remained firmly planted on the barstool, looking bored. However, he’s not alone for long before Milan slid into Jens’ vacated spot, a gentle, reassuring grin crossing over his face. 

The man was dressed up in his finest clothes and fittest jeans. There was a single dangling earring extending from his left earlobe, his go-to party wear accessory. There was little doubt between the three of them that Milan had dressed to impress and was willing to go all out to do so. Robbe knew that Milan, one of his closest friends outside of the “Broerrrs” and his certified “gay guru”, of all people, deserved it.

“How are you doing?” Milan questioned. 

“I’m fine,” Robbe lied. 

He wasn’t fine. 

And, Robbe was almost positive that Milan already knew that. 

“Robbe,” Milan whispered, somehow seeming like he was shouting even with the booming bass and the moving bodies around them. Robbe avoided his gaze, turning towards the bartender to get his attention. The man quickly came over, getting his order before giving the pair of them a once over. For once, Milan didn’t seem to have noticed. “I know you better than that. You’re obviously not fine.” 

Robbe let out a breath, taking his beer when it was offered. “How much did Zoë tell you?” 

“Not much,” Milan replied. The bartender nudged Milan, placing a refill of his empty glass on the counter before gesturing for the one in his hand. Milan seemed to a bit surprised, handing over the glass and blushing a little when the bartender winked at him. Robbe eyed him, grinning. “Do not think you are getting away from this conversation, Robbe. She just told me that you were with someone. They said that they wanted to take a break via text.” 

“Yeah,” Robbe replied. 

“Who was it? Do I know him?” Milan questioned. 

Robbe shook his head. “No, not personally anyway,” Robbe replied, staring down into his glass in an attempt to avoid Milan’s questioning gaze. “It was that guy on Instagram that you were teasing me about having a crush on.” 

When Robbe glanced up to him, his eyes were wide but he didn’t speak up so Robbe continued, biting nervously at his lip. 

“Anyway,” Robbe continued. “We started messaging each other and we talked about possibly meeting up last Thursday. But, then Lucas and I went to meet Noor and Moyo and he was out with them and Britt. The two of them left in an argument and he messaged me that night, asking if I wanted to meet up that night. And, I did so I went and we hung out and we kissed and if I didn’t have a midterm the next morning, we might’ve done something more.” 

Milan’s eyes went wide. “Are you telling me that you resisted having sex with a guy that you have been crushing on for months because you had a test?” Robbe gave him a look. “Sorry, I just wanted to make sure that we were on the same page. You have a lot more restraint than I would have.” Robbe nodded his head and Milan replied with an offended expression. “So, what happened?”

“I went over to his place on Thursday, then again on Friday,” Robbe informed him, crossing his arms over his chest and letting out a sigh. “I don’t know. It was nice and we were having a good time. Or, at least, I thought we were. But, I don’t know, I felt like there was something that he didn’t want to tell me.” 

“Like, you were a secret boyfriend or something else?”

Robbe shook his head. “I don’t think it was that,” he admitted. “We were in the kitchen and there was a knock on the door. I don’t know. There was just this change to him like he got tense and scared all of a sudden.” Milan nodded his head, patting his arm. “I tried to ask him about it, but he didn’t want to talk about it. I guess I’m worried that I pushed him too far and that I was stupid-” 

“Robbe,” Milan spoke up, effectively cutting him off. “You’re not stupid.” 

Robbe shook his head. Milan looked at him exasperated. “There was no way that someone like him, someone with so many followers would’ve looked at me and picked me,” Robbe mumbled. 

“Robbe, stop,” Milan cut him off, stepping forward as someone shuffled past them. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I must’ve done something.” 

Milan sent a pointed look in Robbe’s direction as Robbe glanced around the club. The music was thumping against Robbe’s ear, loud and obnoxious, and the lights were still flickering between bright florescent colors that bathed everyone in light. Out on the dance floor, Robbe managed to spot Jens, who had managed to rescue Lucas back from Zoë. They were dancing, kissing, and being that obnoxious couple. He could see the back of Moyo’s head, talking with Aaron and Amber, and Noor was with Britt, dancing in the midst of the crowd and twirling each other. 

But, as Robbe moved to glance back at Milan, his eyes caught platinum blond hair and his breath caught in his throat. 

Sander. 

The man in question was across the room, talking with a group of guys that were talking excitedly to him. He was recounting a story, judging from the way he was moving his hands. He was wearing a white t-shirt, no leather jacket, and Robbe wouldn’t have been surprised if he was wearing his Doc Martens. He always wore at least one. He could tell that Milan was talking, but Robbe couldn’t hear him, a combination of the music and the fact that his focus was somewhere else.

A girl cut through the crowd of boys. She was as beautiful as Sander was, brown hair flowing down her back and wearing a long-sleeve crop-top and jeans. The girl wrapped her arms around Sander’s neck, standing on her toes to press a kiss against his lips, cutting him off mid-sentence. The guys that were around him cheered, whooping and hollering, as Sander wrapped his arms around the girl’s waist, kissing her back and dragging her closer against his chest, as she dragged him towards the dance floor. 

“Robbe,” Milan broke through, his hand on Robbe’s shoulder. 

Robbe blinked, bringing him back to reality. There was a concerned look on Milan’s face, scanning his face and reaching out to hold his arm. Robbe opened his mouth, closing it immediately afterward, trying to find the words but couldn’t find any. His eyes went back to the dance floor, there were too many people, too little room, and Robbe felt the overwhelming desire to flee, to get out of the club. He couldn’t be here. 

He didn’t even realize that he was starting to flee the club until he heard Milan shouting his name. His shout cut through and over the music, likely alerting their already concerned friends of his flight. But, he couldn’t think about that right now. He just needed to get out of there. Robbe shoved past people, headed in the general direction of the door, slammed into the wall, and followed the length of it until he found the door in question, throwing the doors open. The door hit the bouncer, who was standing outside, and he yelled at Robbe, but the brunet fled over the rail, turning left, and walked as fast as he could to create a vast difference between him and the club.

He needed to get away from the party and it’s pounding lights. 

He needed to get far away from Sander and the mysterious brunette girl. 

Despite Milan’s words, he couldn’t help but feel completely one-hundred percent stupid.

There were many reasons that Robbe felt stupid. But, the one, overwhelming thought that seemed to drown out all the others, pounding against his skull, was… Robbe kept walking, putting one foot over the other, getting as far away from that club that he could’ve gotten. He couldn’t hear the shouts of Milan or his friends anymore, replaced instead by the insistent buzz of his phone in the pocket of his jeans. His feet took him to the pier, over the railing, before his legs collapsed beneath him. 

Robbe shoved his eyes closed, tears spilling from the corners of his cheeks. 

How could he really believe… how could he really believe that someone like Sander, so beautiful and breathtaking, would be interested in someone like Robbe? There was a sea of people, a sea of people that followed Sander, and somehow, he had taken a look at Robbe and thought that he wanted to date him? It had been too good to be true, that Robbe’s fantasy crush on a famous Instagram profile would be interested in him. But, now that it was over, that it was out there that he had been right all along, Robbe felt like his chest was being ripped open. 

It was too much. 

Robbe let out a scream, screaming out his frustrations and his anger, but not at Sander, but at himself, for being so, so, foolish. He didn’t care if someone found him, a police officer, his friends. He didn’t care. He just needed to scream. Frantically, he pulled at his hair, trying to give himself some relief to this bloodcurdling emotional pain that was ripping apart his chest and his lungs, but it did little to improve anything. The only thing it did was make Robbe’s scalp and throat raw. 

Fishing his phone out of his pocket, Robbe’s fingers found a familiar name on Instagram and sent a message:

I know it’s late.

And I completely understand if you say no.

But, I can’t be around the guys now.

Can I come over?

Three bubbles popped up on the chat before Nick’s reply came to.

Sure. 

Apartment 304.

What’s wrong?

Robbe didn’t answer, pushing himself to his feet and heading off to a new destination.

…

Robbe woke up alone and in a strange place. 

His head was pounding, likely from the alcohol that he drank once he had gotten to his destination in an attempt to drown the voices in his head, and his body was completely sore. But, he knew that it likely had to deal with the fact that he slept on a strange couch than anything else. His shirt and jacket were folded on the coffee table, he had spilled a quarter bottle of vodka on himself, he remembered, and his shoes were on the edge of the table. 

It took a little to remember where he had gone. 

He groaned, reaching for his phone which was plugged into the wall behind the couch. However, before he could check his messages, fire off an I’m fine text, someone was sitting down on the coffee table and extending him a cup of water and some medicine. He glanced up, half-expecting it to be Nick, only to find a girl with black hair and green eyes that looked similar to Nick. He took the medicine from her, giving her a thankful smile, before he swallowed it down, “Thank you.”

“Your friends know that you’re safe,” the girl informed him, crossing her arms over her chest. “They were calling you and frankly, the constant ringing had started to become annoying so I answered the phone to let them know since you had passed out on the couch and Nick had already gone to bed. I hope that’s alright.” 

“Yes,” Robbe replied, grimacing at the bright light that poured through the curtains. He extended his hand towards the foreign girl. “I’m Robbe.”

She took his hand. “I know,” she stated, matter-of-factly and to the point. “I’m Nick’s sister, Clara.” 

“Oh.” 

“Nick had to go to work. He didn’t want you to wake up alone,” she continued, pushing herself to her feet and moving further into the apartment. She stopped before disappearing down the hallway and glanced back at him. “Nick said that you could use his shower if you needed it.” 

“I’m good, thank you,” Robbe mumbled, reaching out to grab his folded shirt from the coffee table. He slipped it on before getting up off the couch. The blanket that had covered him slipped off his shoulders and he quickly started folding it up. “I need to be getting back to my apartment. Where is this blanket from?”

“Back of the couch,” Clara informed. Robbe nodded his head, placing the thin sheet where it belonged. She hovered in the doorframe, watching Robbe put on his jacket, shove his phone in his pocket, and slip on his shoes. Her gaze was scrutinous and protective. It was likely that Nick had told Clara of Robbe before. But, if not, she definitely knew who he was after last night when he had shown up, unable to bear the thought of going home, and drinking a bottle of vodka. 

Robbe couldn’t blame her. 

“Thank you for letting me stay on the couch,” Robbe said, patting down his pockets as he moved towards the front door. He had his phone. He had his (wired) headphones. He had his keys. He was good to go home and leave the apartment that he had fled to. Somehow, that made it even worse, knowing that he was likely going to walk into a house filled with his overprotective friends who were, likely, angry that he hadn’t called. 

“You’re welcome,” Clara replied, her voice sounding softer than it had been before. “I… uh, I hope things get better for you. Whatever happened.” 

Robbe nodded his head, leaving the apartment. Clara closed the door behind him, locking it swiftly, as Robbe navigated his way to the elevator. By the time he was there, his backup headphones were in his ear, music blasting on the loudest he could manage, trying to drown out the world and his thoughts. The elevator ride was slow, leisurely, even though it was only three floors, and Robbe couldn’t have been more thankful when it opened into the lobby. 

As he was leaving the lobby of the apartment complex, he passed by someone carrying in bags of groceries and they bumped shoulders. He mumbled out a “sorry” before continuing on his way. Robbe didn’t glance up from his phone because he typing out a message to Jens to let him know he was headed to the apartment. He had enough people mad at him and he didn’t feel like getting yelled at for the fact that it was still partially difficult for Robbe to walk in a straight line.

… 

To Robbe’s surprise, he arrived at an empty apartment.

None of his friends were home, or in their rooms, and he wasn’t bombarded with questions about where he was and what he was doing. There was the faint sound of music coming from Moyo and Noor’s room, likely Noor working on a sketch for her firm or her latest spray-painting masterpiece, and Robbe headed into his room, closing the door lightly so he wouldn’t disturb her. He took off his clothes, switching the jeans that he had slept in for baggy sweatpants and a different shirt, tossing both articles aside before climbing in his bed. 

His phone unlocked to the flatshare group chat and he remembered his promise to let Milan and Zoë that he had made it home.

Robbe: I’m home.

Milan: Good, I’m glad that you made it home safely. 

Zoë: I’m glad that you made it home safely as well. 

Zoë: Are you okay, Robbe? What happened?

Despite all the pain and misery wrecking around him like a tornado, his heart swelled at Zoë’s message. He was glad that they were still friends since he moved out of the flatshare. Robbe started typing out a message about how they didn’t need to worry about him anymore because they didn’t live together. But, he paused, his thumb hovering over the send key, before he deleted the message and started again, sending that message without hesitation. 

Robbe: I don’t want to talk about it.

Milan: Robbe, I know it’s painful, but both of us are worried about you.

Milan: You ran out of a club and didn’t tell anyone where you were going.

Milan: I know you’re upset. But, you really worried all of us.

Robbe: I’m sorry.

Zoë: We know you’re sorry.

Zoë: We just want to make sure that you are okay. 

Zoë: You know that Milan and I (and Senne) are there for you. No matter what. 

Milan: Yes, to all that. 

A new message popped up in the group chat. It was Senne. Robbe blinked. Despite being a member of the group chat since it’s fruition, the man hardly ever used it. He liked to sit back and watch their bickering back-and-forth about whatever, but he hardly ever sent a message in it. Most of the time, his messages came through Zoë’s phone. 

Senne: We’re worried about you.

Milan: Oh, wow, Senne’s using the group chat. You know it’s serious.

Robbe paused biting down on his lip before typing frantically, tears starting to slip from his eyes when he sent the message. 

Robbe: I saw Sander kissing a girl.

Robbe: I needed to get out of there.

Senne: Sander?

Zoë: The same Sander that texted you last weekend that the two of you were moving too fast and that he needed a break?

Robbe: No, the one that I hooked up with three years ago.

Robbe: Yes, that’s the one.

Milan: Well, at least we know one thing.

Milan: His sarcasm still works.

Zoë: He doesn’t know what he’s missing Robbe. 

Senne: I’m confused. Who’s Sander?

Before Robbe could even figure out what to say, someone was already typing out a response.

Milan: He’s an Instagram famous artist who Robbe had a crush on, then started dating, but then he said that he needed a break.

Senne: Gotcha. 

Desperate for any other conversation, Robbe quickly turned the conversation away from him. 

Robbe: How’s wedding planning?

Zoë: Excellent. Speaking of which, I want to take the three of you out.

Zoë: To shop for your tuxes! 

Milan: Did you guys move up the wedding without me realizing?

Robbe: I was going to ask the same thing.

Zoë: No, we didn’t, but I want to make sure I have the right idea for your tuxes, so that was as it gets closer, you can go rent them.

Zoë: Please? How does Thursday at noon sound to everyone?

Zoë: Don’t even try to lie your way out of it, Milan. You need to look nice!

Zoë: Besides, you never know who you might meet.

Milan: Are you trying to tell me that you’re going to set me up?

Milan: At your own wedding?

Shopping for tuxes was the absolute last thing that he wanted to do. Since Zoë and Robbe had become close, she had been trying to get Robbe into more “fitting” clothing. Robbe hated clothes were tight on him. It made him feel a bit self-conscious. Robbe was athletic and had muscles that he hid beneath his clothes, but no one seemed to get it. Back when Robbe wasn’t out, the others used to joke that all Robbe had to was take off his shirt to get a girl. But, Robbe was comfortable with all of his clothes hanging on him, seeming to be a few sizes too big. Plus, he didn’t like to dress up either. So, doing both at once, it would be a literal nightmare.

But, he also knew that Zoë would get him in one eventually.

Robbe: My class ends at 11 so I’m free after that.

Zoë: Milan? 

Milan: Fine. Sounds good to me. 

Milan: Promise you’ll make me look good?

Zoë: Always.

Milan: Just let us know where we’re supposed to go. 

Robbe: Yes, please.

The door to his bedroom opened and Robbe glanced up. It was Jens, standing there with his hands in the pockets of his hoodie and watching him with a perplexed, worried expression. “You okay, man?” Jens questioned, closing the door behind him before walking over to him. “We were all really worried about when you disappeared like that.” 

“I know,” Robbe whispered. “I’m sorry.”

“Where did you end up going?” Jens questioned. 

“A pier near the club,” Robbe replied. “I screamed at the ocean. Then, I texted Nick to see if I could come over.”

Jens’ eyebrows disappeared beneath the hair that had fallen against his forehead. “Nick? As in the guy you liked back in high school?” Robbe nodded his head, glancing down at his phone. “Where did you two run into each other? Last I checked, he had you blocked on social media and you hadn’t talked since you… well, you know?”

“Yeah,” Robbe replied, letting out a breath and squeezing his phone. “We ran into each other last Thursday and I apologized. I’m sorry I just… I didn’t want to come home and have to answer a billion questions about what was going on. I just needed to not be here. He let me sleep on the couch and got me another bottle of vodka.”

Jens nodded his head. “You know that we’re always here to talk, right? I know the last time that you went through something major, you felt like you couldn’t talk to any of us. But, we’re here for you.” 

Robbe nodded his head. “I know, Jens. I know.” His best friend smiled, patting his shoulder. “I do need to get started on some school work or I’ll be behind all week.”

Somehow, Jens’ eyebrows shot higher than they did last time. “You’re going to do homework while hungover from at least two bottles of vodka.”

Robbe shrugged his shoulders, reaching out for his backpack and pulling out his laptop. “When else am I going to do it?” Jens laughed, leaving the comfort of Robbe’s bedroom, making a comment about how he’ll break down the door if Robbe refuses to eat again. The brunet laughed, checking his phone one last time before he started studying again. 

To his relief, there wasn’t a fresh text message on the screen (or, maybe, dismay because there wasn’t a text from a bleach-blond man about what had happened, an explanation about what was going on, even though he didn’t know Robbe was even there) so Robbe tossed his phone aside and cracked open his textbook.

…

Hey Robbe. 

Lucas and Noor seemed pretty worried about you on Saturday. 

Are you okay?

At this point, Sander’s messages were seared in his mind. He didn’t need to have his phone open or on the messages to see the words. They were screen-printed on the inside of his eyelids, popping up whenever he closed his eyes, blinking. He didn’t even need to have an Instagram notification to be reminded of them either. Ever since Robbe had been dragged by Jens and Noor (both demanding a brief explanation) to lunch on Sunday and came back to find them on his phone, sent to him while Robbe had been studying, he seemed to be constantly focused on them, trying to decipher their hidden meaning.

He’s just trying to be nice, Robbe finally decided on Tuesday. 

There was nothing there.

He had already moved on. 

Robbe told himself this so many times that he believed it. Sander had moved on. Robbe should do the same. 

So, why was he on Sander’s Instagram every day?

Robbe blamed it on habit, constantly checking his Instagram feed, scrolling absent-mindedly past photos of his friends and skaters, looking specifically for someone with platinum blond hair and a leather jacket. There were absent-minded sketches that he would post, but only half unfinished or shot in a way that didn’t reveal the entire picture. A shoulder here, a sketch of the bakery across the street from his apartment (which Robbe only knew because he stopped had there once he had left Nick’s apartment), an empty warehouse. 

Sander carried on with his life, moving between posting photos and holding Instagram lives. And, despite the voice in the back of his head that tells him that he shouldn’t, Robbe watched every one of them. He would hide his phone, put his wired headphones in one ear, and listen to them. Every time there was a new, foreign voice off to the side, his heart clenched because there’s a thought in his mind, what if it was that girl? 

But, it never was. 

As the week went on, Robbe felt like there was little that he could do to move on. He was doing it to himself, sure, because Robbe was the one seeking out Sander and his Instagram posts. He had shut off notifications from Sander’s profile, unable to bear the thought of opening one up and seeing a vague reference to any relationship, but he was constantly the one that was opening up the app, typing in Sander’s profile name, and staring at his photos, both new and old, that popped up on his profile.

His phone buzzed. 

Another message from Sander and he felt like his heart might come loose in his chest. 

When Robbe opened it up, his eyes caught sight of his own image sketched on a piece of paper. The picture depicted Robbe in bed, wrapped up in sheets, eyes closed and his hair all messed up, from sleep or sex or maybe even something else. Beneath the sketch, there were words, so small that Robbe had to pull up the picture and zoom in to properly see it. 

In another universe...

Robbe’s heart thumped in his chest, the ramblings of his professor long forgotten as he turned to the message, looking it over. Yasmina sent him a knowing look as she reached over to tap his shoulder. His teacher was looking at him disapprovingly, but Robbe couldn’t find it in himself to care. 

Not right now, anyway.

… 

“Quit squirming!” 

Robbe flailed. “You’re choking me!” 

“Well,” the bride-to-be replied, giving him a pointed look as she fiddled with the deep red cloth in her fingertips, “If you stopped squirming like a child, you wouldn’t be choking while I’m trying to tie this dang thing.” 

From their spots on the couch, Milan was laughing. In fact, he was laughing so hard that his voice had gone quiet, unable to be heard anymore. His phone was forgotten on the couch, his arms wrapped around himself, and lightly wheezing. Robbe didn’t understand what was so funny about the entire thing, but even Senne had an amused look on his face, but that might’ve just been because of Milan. 

Robbe felt weird. Neither of the other men had tried on stuff yet. Once they had walked into the store, Zoë had grabbed Robbe by the back of the neck and practically forced him to be chosen first. Robbe didn’t know if it was a good thing or a bad thing. At least, he didn’t have to wait patiently for the rest of them, dreading being summoned to change, but at the same time, he felt weird being the only one dressed up. 

“Milan,” Zoë spoke up, moving away from Robbe. “It’s your turn.”

Milan’s laughter turned into protests as the blonde grabbed his hand and dragged him into the dressing room.

Robbe watched the two of them disappear, digging his hands into the pockets of the trousers that he had been forced into. Even though Robbe knew that they fit exactly the way that they were supposed to, the clothes felt too tight on him, too constraining. But, Robbe was used to buying and wearing clothes that were consistently one size too big, hanging on him like protective armor. Robbe thought this was a lot of work for a suit that he was only going to wear a handful of times. Robbe had never been the type of person to dress up and the less that Robbe had to do it, the better. 

But, it was for Zoë and her wedding. 

Plus, if Robbe was going to walk her down the aisle, he needed to look nice or he might screw up the photos.

“You look nice,” Robbe blinked back into reality as Senne pushed himself up from the couch. The older brunet snagged the cloth from around Robbe’s neck, working on tying it together with a lot more grace and sureness than Zoë had displayed. When Robbe tried to squirm away, Senne pulled him back lightly by the jacket of the suit he wore. Then, just like that, the tie was complete. “There.” 

Robbe glanced down at his socked feet before returning his eyes to Senne. “I feel like a fucking doll.” 

“At least you look good,” Senne laughed, stepping out of the way of the mirror and practically forcing himself to look at his reflection. “It’s amazing how good you look when you’re actually wearing clothes that fit you properly.” 

“Careful, Senne,” Robbe mumbled, staring at his reflection. Despite the level of discomfort that Robbe was feeling in these trousers and jacket, he had to admit that he did look nice. The trousers, the white button-up, and the jacket fit him perfectly. It was almost as if the articles of clothing were perfectly tailored to his appearance. “I don’t want Zoë to think that I’m attempting to steal you from her.” 

Zoë had returned, moving up in front of him and buttoning up his jacket. “If it has to be anyone, I’m glad that it’s you, Robbe,” she spoke, smiling. Robbe laughed, the first genuine laugh that he’s made in days, and Zoë’s eyes lit up as she stared at him. “See, look! You’re so handsome when you wear the right clothes!”

“Are you trying to say that I’m not handsome in the clothes I currently wear?” Robbe spoke, sticking out his bottom lip in a pout. 

Zoë sent him a glare, lightly slapping the side of his face. “That isn’t what I meant and you know it.” Robbe laughed, shoving her hand away as she attempted to unbutton the jacket. “I’m sorry. I’m just trying to figure out which one looks better. I want you and Milan to look uniform! Plus, you never know who you might meet at the wedding. You might meet the man of your dreams and, if you do, you must look your best!” 

Robbe’s heart sank, but he tried to put on an optimistic smile as he spoke, “Please, whatever you do, do not set me up at your wedding.”

Zoë laughed, moving back towards the fitting room. “Milan! What in the world is taking you so long? You put one leg in than the other.” Seene laughed, throwing his head back as he did so. 

The man of his dreams…

Robbe’s heart sunk because he thought that he had already found him, the man of his dreams, in every universe. Maybe, that was why he couldn’t move on or try to move on or even think of moving on. There was no man of his dreams in his future, because he was rooted in the past, in the back of his mind, back in an abandoned pool and on an Instagram profile. 

Sander.

His mind instantly brought up the memory in the alleyway after fleeing the pool, the dazzling, dazed grin of his as their hips rolled together. Then, the image switched to the two of them back in Sander’s bed after dinner on Thursday, going a little too far but never crossing into more, tasting of pizza and each other. How happy Sander had looked in that moment, hanging over him with his hands beneath his shirt, trying to get it off of him again before snuggling into the crook of his neck just wanting to be with each other. 

Then, it’s quickly squashed by Sander kissing the girl in the club, washing over him like a bucket of icy cold water.

Robbe let out a sigh and Senne sent him a worried look, opening his mouth to say something. 

“Hey.” 

The two of them turned towards the front of the store, to whoever had interrupted him, and Robbe’s heart practically catapulted out of his chest. Sure, there had been some internal part of him that had been wishing and hoping that he might show up, to explain, but that didn’t give Sander the right to actually show up so unannounced and unconcerned with the fact that Robbe was struggling to breathe. 

It was highly unfair, Robbe mused, that Sander could manage to look that breathtaking so easily. He was wearing a beige beanie over his head and his black leather jacket around his shoulders. He wore a black band shirt, the rare pair of blue denim jeans, and his Doc Martens. Despite the fact that there was a slightly nervous grin on his face, Robbe could see the bags beneath his green eyes and the sadness in them as they stared deeply at him, flitting over his body as if he was trying to take it all in.

“Hey,” Robbe managed to force out. 

Senne’s eyes flickered over to him, understanding over his eyes. “Sander, long time no see,” Senne spoke, curtly. Robbe glanced at him, surprised. 

Sander blinked, turning his gaze towards Senne like he hadn’t even realized that there was someone else near Robbe. Then, there seemed to be a brighter grin on Sander’s face. “Senne,” Sander greeted, practically beaming. “It’s been a bit.” 

Senne nodded his head, glancing at Robbe, who was silently demanding an explanation. “Remember when I moved out of the flatshare after Zoë and I broke up?” Robbe nodded. How could he forget? He was the one awake at seven, hanging out in the hallway, trying to give them a moment of privacy. Even when he had spotted Robbe in the hallway, stopping briefly, Senne had blown right past him, concealing his emotions, as Robbe went to comfort Zoë, who was sobbing in the kitchen. “Sander and I were roommates in another flatshare.”

“Oh,” Robbe spoke up.

Senne turned back to Sander before glancing back at Robbe. “I’ll go see what’s taking the two of them so long.” 

Robbe nodded his head, his throat getting dry. Senne stepped away from them, moving towards the dressing room where Milan and Zoë had disappeared to. “Okay,” Robbe managed. Senne stopped, glancing back to him, trying to remain impassive. “Don’t forget that you have to try one on too. You are the one getting married after all.” 

Senne grinned at him. “I’ll wait until you get dressed back in your baggy clothes. Don’t want to show you up and you get jealous.” After Robbe flipped him off, he disappeared down the hallway.  

Robbe glanced towards Sander, who was still rooted in the same spot. The blond’s green eyes were still flickering over Robbe, dressed in the suit that Zoë and the attendant practically had to force on him. As Robbe took a step towards him, Sander’s eyes returned to his face before briefly glancing over Robbe’s shoulder. He pivoted to see, but there was no one there. When he turned back around, Sander was looking at him again.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Robbe echoed, wrapping his arms around his body. He wasn’t entirely sure why he did it. Maybe it was to guard him against Sander, to protect himself from whatever might happen next. Maybe, it was to hold himself back from throwing himself at Sander, attacking his lips with his own and kissing him until he never thought about the girl at the club again. But, Robbe knew that he had needed space. Or, at least, that’s what he had said. “What are you doing here?” 

Sander seemed surprised. “I was walking by on my way back from lunch with a friend from school and saw you so I thought I would come in to say hi,” he replied, gesturing towards the door. Robbe felt a hot flash of jealousy that flashed through his system, causing every nerve in his body to ignite like a flame. “You look nice.” 

“Thanks,” Robbe replied. 

“I’d rate it five stars on booking,” Sander spoke, a slight lift to his voice, the flirtatious tease in his eyes as he stared at Robbe, his eyes going up and down his body, slowing and surely. 

While his mind and heart did thump a bit at the implication, the jealousy in his gust was quickly replaced with anger. Robbe didn’t understand Sander, didn’t understand anything at all about this entire situation. One minute, Sander was telling Robbe that he needed a break that they were moving too fast and not even a week later, he was dancing at a club with a girl (and, according to Milan, who had told Robbe even though he didn’t really want to know, it was not innocent). Now, he was standing here in front of him, acting as if nothing had ever happened, and flirting with him (and undressing him with his eyes). 

“How was that girl at the club?” 

Sander blinked. “Huh?” 

“At the party on Saturday,” Robbe continued, his fingers at his tie as he undid it, or attempted to. “The girl that you were dancing with and kissing.”

“Oh,” Sander whispered. 

“What was she?” Robbe questioned. 

“Nothing compared to you.” 

Yeah, right. Robbe turned away from him, heading back to get into his jeans and hoodie. 

“Robbe, wait.” 

“Sander,” Robbe spoke, turning back around. Sander looked as grief-stricken as Robbe felt. His stomach ripped apart at the sight of Sander, who was always so confident, so sure of himself, looking as upset and unsure. “I don’t understand what’s going on.”

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” Sander confessed, his voice so quiet that Robbe almost missed it. 

“I’m already hurting,” Robbe replied. There’s a look that crosses Sander’s face before he looked at his feet and Robbe stepped away, unable to stand there any longer. 

As Robbe turned the corner into the dressing room, Zoë practically ran into him, a confused look on her expression. She looked like she was about to pull him out to where he had just been with Sander. But, she must’ve caught sight of the blond artist because she didn’t. She wrapped a protective arm around him, pulling him back in the dressing room. 

…

Sander posted a picture on Thursday night. 

Well, that’s not true. It was late on Thursday night, so late that Thursday night had blended into Friday morning. Robbe should’ve been asleep, sleeping or trying to get some sleep, before he had a class in about, he squinted at the time, eight hours. But, Robbe had fallen asleep, waking up rather violently because he dreamed of the blond artist stripping him of his clothes and pressing heated kisses everywhere that Dream Sander could’ve possibly touched. 

So, despite having class in the morning, despite the fact that Robbe was still disappointed that Sander had found him in that tuxedo shop but didn’t offer a real explanation about what had happened and why it had all happened, Robbe was sitting here in the middle of the night, his eyes glued on the phone and his finger hanging in the air, trying to decide if he should like the picture. 

Robbe lowered his thumb, staring at the picture. 

Sander was standing in a wooded area, looking down at his camera. But, it wasn’t right. It was like the negatives were out of place or purposely manipulated to where it looked like it was flickering, not matching up. It was like he, or the camera, had completely glitched out. There was a red echo on the photo, of Sander’s face, his hands holding his vintage camera, the trees behind him. 

His eyes dragged over the caption beneath it.

Lived with the best times Left with the worst

Robbe’s mind had felt the familiar pull of the lyrics and it’s only a quick Google search to confirm his suspicions. 

David Bowie. 

Robbe locked his phone, dropping it on the bedsheets. He turned over, wrapping the sheets around his shoulders. Despite the fact that everyone had been asleep, the apartment was too loud. He could hear the sound of Jens’ snoring. He could hear the sounds of everyone outside. It was all too loud. Letting out a frustrated sigh, he opened his phone again, pulling up a random playlist, and setting it back down. 

David Bowie played through his phone’s speaker and Robbe let out a sigh, relaxing into the sheets and slightly praying that he wouldn’t dream of Sander again. He wasn’t for sure if he could wake up again into the universe where they weren’t together and his heart would break again because the dream wasn’t real.

[serene-faerie]

Rameses - ☮, ▼, ☯, ♥. Yocheved - ♦, ♡, ☯, ▼. Miriam - ♒, ▼. Tuya - ☼, ☠, ☆. I'll ask more later.

Thanks~! Here I go!

Rameses

☮ - friendship headcanon

In the canon-verse, my headcanon is that Moses was pretty much Rameses’ only friend. After all, Rameses is the crown prince, the son of the Pharaoh, who was supposed to be a living God on Earth, and so he was basically divinity. So it kind of deterred even the sons of nobles from being his friend. Moses, on the other hand, saw him as human as anyone else, which is what Rameses appreciated. He could trust Moses more than anyone else, so when Moses ran away, he was extremely lonely.

In my Modern!AU, Rameses starts a tentative kind of camaraderie with Miriam, who also develops an appreciation for him. And besides, it’s kind of hard not to like Miriam: she’s kind-hearted, thoughtful, and very caring. Her positive attitude is infectious, and 

▼ - childhood headcanon

Ever since they were children, Rameses has always been a protective older brother towards Moses. He was also somewhat jealous of how easier it was for Moses to become friends with other people, whether it was the sons of nobles, or even the servants and guards. When Moses notices how upset he is at this, he actually helps Rameses befriend a few servants and guards. In the end, however, Rameses still preferred spending time with Moses.

☯ - likes/dislikes headcanon

Likes:

Chariot-racing with Moses

Playing with his son

Relaxing on the royal barge in the Nile

Swimming in the waters of the palace

Reading some of the classic tales and stories

Spending time with his wife Nefertari

Dislikes:

The high expectations of being both crown prince and Pharaoh

Loneliness

Betrayal

Anyone who insinuates that he’s “the weak link”

♥ - family headcanon

Rameses and Nefertari are a happily married couple who truly, honestly respect and love each other. In addition, Rameses is a very loving dad towards Amun, who absolutely adores him. When Amun was a baby, Rameses was so gentle when holding him, always scared that he would break him somehow. When Amun was a toddler, he was always so proud of his accomplishments: first word, first steps, you name it, he was proud. Likewise, Tari is also a loving mother towards Amun, who gives him lots of hugs and kisses, and who loves playing with him. As a result, Amun is a little bit spoiled, but he’s ultimately a genuinely good-hearted, carefree child.

Yocheved

♦ - quirks/hobbies headcanon

Yocheved loves to sing; not only did she sing lullabies to her children, but she also sang while doing domestic tasks like cooking or laundry, and even when she’s doing labour work, she sings; as a result, she was known as “The Songbird of Goshen” because her singing can lift anyone’s spirits; even some Egyptian labourers and peasants like listening to her sing because of how beautiful her voice is.

She also likes to weave clothing; the veil she wears over her head in the opening scene was something that she made herself, and she also teaches Miriam how to weave.

Whenever her children have nightmares, she’ll always sing softly to them, and gently run her fingers through their hair to soothe them; this works like a charm every single time.

If Miriam or Aaron fell down and got hurt, Yocheved would bandage their wounds and then kiss them better. She also did this with her husband’s wounds.

She was also one of the best dancers in Goshen; on the rare days when there was some festival in Goshen, she and Amram would dance to the festive music and spread a lot of joy to the other villagers.

♡ - romantic headcanon

Yocheved is a romantic at heart. She and her husband Amram loved each other dearly, and they were always affectionate with one another. She first met Amram when he defended her from an angry overseer who was about to beat her, but Amram jumped in and took the beating for her. While healing his wounds, Yocheved expressed her gratitude, and thus, a small friendship started. She later repaid the favour by defending Amram from another angry taskmaster, one that couldn’t even whip her when she dared him to. As such, their friendship deepened and blossomed into romance. Their wedding wasn’t grand, but it was the happiest day of their lives. When Amram died, Yocheved had been so devastated, she couldn’t smile or sing for the longest of times. She tried to be strong for her three children, but she couldn’t take it one day and ended up breaking down. Miriam and Aaron were quick to comfort her, and even baby Moses just held onto her finger, despite not understanding why Mommy was crying.

☯ - likes/dislikes headcanon

Likes:

Singing and dancing

Spending her evenings with her children

The fiery colours of the evening sky

Night time, when she could rest

Listening to old Hebrew tales

Telling stories to her children

Festivals

Dislikes:

Seeing her people being beaten by the overseers and being helpless to stop them

Death

Having to send Moses down the Nile in a basket

Her children being frightened

The harsh labour that has worn her people down for many years

▼ - childhood headcanon

As a child, Yocheved was a very sweet and friendly girl. However, she also had nerves of steel, and would not tolerate anyone who mistreated her. She’s basically silk hiding steel; she may be kind and gentle, but push her too far, and she will fight back. She won’t hesitate in either raising her voice, or throwing a punch or kick if it must come to that. And she can throw a mean left hook. The few times it does happen, hardly anyone can believe that the sweet and kind little Yocheved actually did that.

She was also basically the child nurse among all the children. If someone got hurt, she was always ready to bandage their wounds and sing to them if she needed to. She was kind of like the big sister of the village.

Miriam

♒ - cooking/food headcanon

Miriam learned how to make bread from a young age, thanks to Yocheved. Her favourite food is figs, which always gave her some comfort after a rather harsh day labouring in the temples. She also happens to like pomegranates, but those were considered a luxury. So on the rare occasions when the family had a pomegranate, she would make sure to savour it as much as she could.

▼ - childhood headcanon

Since she saw Moses getting adopted by Queen Tuya, Miriam has always been incredibly optimistic during her childhood days. She knows that one day, Moses is going to return to her and Aaron, and she knows that he will deliver them from Egypt. She’s never told this to anyone else other than Aaron, because she knows that no one will understand or believe her. But this belief is what helps her get through the rough times.

Tuya

☼ - appearance headcanon

Like a lot of upper-class Egyptian women, Tuya prides herself in her appearance and clothing. She also loves perfumes, especially the scent of lotus and sweet incense. It takes her a lot of time in making herself look like a queen, but she never fails to look absolutely stunning. She also knows which crowns, jewellery, and headdresses Seti likes the most, so she always makes sure to wear them whenever she can.

☠ - angry/violent headcanon

When she gets angry, she doesn’t get furious or enraged. Her anger is tranquil, cold. It freezes like ice, and it’s almost painful to the recipient who is on the receiving end of her anger. After all, she is the Queen, and even when she’s angry, she retains her dignity. Even Moses and Rameses are absolutely scared of her when she is angry, and they sometimes feel bad for the recipient of her anger. And because of how regal and dignified she is, Tuya rarely ever gets violent. One glare from her is more than enough to make someone feel shame.

☆ - happy headcanon

When Tuya smiles, it’s truly a blessing for whoever makes her happy. Her smile is kind, gentle, and reassuring, and to see her smile is truly a privilege. Her wedding day to Seti was one where she was at her happiest, and Seti has always felt lucky to see her smile. In addition, her two sons have always made her happy, especially when they were young. Every drawing they gave her, every little gift they found for her, no matter what it was, Tuya would be happy. But ultimately, what made her the happiest was whenever her sons were happy.

Thanks for the request~!

[slashers-hell]

Michael Myers’ Psychosexuality

Ok, so, I don’t know if this is already a thing, but I was rewatching the latest Halloween movie, and I noticed a few scenes in particular that stood out to me and can potentially give us clues about Michael’s sexuality or at least a reason why he kills in the first place. It has already been established that Michael Myers is basically pure evil able to walk; however, I think that reasoning is way too black and white. Rewatching the movie popped another idea in my head, one that has been often overlooked. 

I also want to clarify that I do not support the concept of him being brothers with Laurie Strode, and I only take the first and the latest movie into consideration in my analysis.

Warning: Major spoilers ahead including gory details.

In Halloween (2018), Michael kills 17 people in total. His first four kills after being locked up for 40 years occur when he’s being transported by a bus that happens to crash. It is very likely that Michael Myers himself is the reason for the crash, as we can later catch a glimpse of the bus driver’s corpse. The same applies to the bus guard who warns Michael’s next victim to run away instead of waiting for the police. 

So these first two kills take place off-screen, giving the viewers a hint that Michael is basically free and ready to go on a killing spree in Haddonfield. His next target is the little boy that has left the car to look for his daddy. Michael gets quickly rid of him on-screen in order to steal their car and have an easier time reaching Haddonfield. It is implied that Michael kills the father off-screen. Thus, the intention behind all these kills is clear. Michael doesn’t kill them out of his dark desire to do so but to further his goal.

Moving forward, Michael pays the two nosy investigative journalists a visit in order to get his mask back and probably because they annoyed him. Though there is a key moment that sparked my interest the most. When Michael arrives at the gas station where they have been taking a break, he brutally murders two people off-screen. The car mechanic to wear his suit and the employee guy. 

He proceeds to slowly approach Dana, the female journalist, who has been sitting on the toilet. Firstly, this alone is a huge violation of privacy since he doesn’t quietly wait for her to be done (why would he anyway?) but steadily walks inside and waits in front of the restroom door that she’s sitting behind. Dana repeatedly tells Michael---obviously unaware of who he really is---that she’s already in there. Instead of listening to her, though, Michael shows her the teeth of his previous victim(s) by letting them dramatically fall on the floor.

Oh.

Oh.

This is one of the ways Michael gets off. Sexually. He enjoys scaring beautiful woman, preferably teenagers. That’s why he is doing this and doesn’t just kill her. In fact, he didn’t have a particular reason to go and kill her first because she wasn’t even in his way per se. She was busy in the restroom, so why didn’t he kill Aaron first? He preferred shocking Dana with his same old creepy build-up tactics. He completely loves this. Michael lives for this. This is further highlighted at the end of the killing scene when Dana desperately crawls and attempts to escape from the stalls, and Michael starts dragging her by her feet. Aaron being alarmed after witnessing the two dead bodies follows them to the restroom, rushing to her aid. And what does Michael do? He kills him in one of the most disgusting and violent ways one could imagine, bashing him into the stall Dana is hiding in. And then... does he murder her as brutally as he murders Aaron? 

Nope.

Michael begins to choke her, and she makes orgasmic expressions. 

And that’s it.

He chokes her to death. Nothing more. No blood, no gore. None of that.

On another note, it is only implied in the movie but confirmed in the script that Dana and Aaron are lovers. So Michael kills a couple once again! Just like he killed his sister after seeing her with her boyfriend and killed the two friends of Laurie who were both in relationships!

On to the next part that intrigued me a lot and simultaneously gives huge hints about what Michael had to be thinking during these moments. 

Michael arrives in the suburban neighbourhood, surrounded by children who are trick-or-treating. He walks inside a home that he found on the way, holding a hammer in his hand; and he beats a middle-aged woman to death off-screen. He does this because he wants her kitchen knife. Plain and simple. No other motives. Then, he hears a baby crying and approaches but ends up sparing the baby’s life. Why does he do this? No, not because he has some sort of moral compass but because he has no reason to kill the baby.

First off, the baby is way too young and helpless to ever present itself as a real threat to Michael. Secondly, Michael obviously doesn’t care about babies. What he cares about is stalking young, attractive woman and getting off on that, and then eventually killing them. Thus, he ignores the baby and keeps on walking through the neighbourhood. This is when he suddenly comes across a beautiful woman that is dressed up in a sexy nurse costume.

Michael stands completely still and keeps staring at her to the point of her noticing him and staring back, evidently creeped out.

However, they are interrupted by her boyfriend. The couple ignores Michael’s presence and gets into their car. Michael turns around and faces a house in which another middle-aged woman is busy talking on the phone, reassuring her friend that she is safe. Seconds later, Michael has already broken in and stabs her in her throat. Now, the question is, why the fuck would Michael do this? He legitimately had no reason to kill her. So, is Michael just a psychopath who kills people on a whim? 

No. He doesn’t kill anyone on a whim.

His reaction was so strong because the couple reminded him of Judith, his older sister, whom he had killed at the age of six when he witnessed her having sex with her boyfriend. This triggered an equally violent reaction in Michael, and he was angered by the sight of a beautiful woman with another man. I will later come back to this thought. 

Next up, the following scene is an obvious nod to the first Halloween movie. Michael stalks Allyson’s teenage friend Vicky, who is supposed to babysit on Halloween night. 

So he watches her all the way to the point where her boyfriend arrives and shares a heavy makeout session with her.

But Julian---the kid she was supposed to babysit---is scared and asks her to look in his closet, claiming that he saw the bogeyman. When she does this, Michael gets the drop on her and stabs her to death. Dave rushes to help her, but he ends up being killed off-screen. The kid Julian seemingly escapes. Once again, this is what Michael enjoys. He had absolutely no reason to kill them other than the fact that he gets fucking off on this. This shit turns him on because he doesn’t know how to express his sexuality in other ways. He has voyeuristic and violent sexual fantasies that he fulfils by killing attractive girls, especially with their boyfriends.

Then, there is another important, telling scene. Michael stalks Allyson and Oscar. After he confesses his feelings to her, Allyson leaves angered by his attempts to make a move on her. Oscar is drunk and notices Michael standing next to a tree. He starts making a conversation with him and asks him: 

“Have you ever really liked a girl, and you just couldn’t have her?”

Why would they put this in unless this line was supposed to compare his situation to the situation of Michael’s obsession with Laurie? Michael really likes Laurie, but he can’t have her, so he wants her even more. He really liked these girls, but he can’t have them, so he kills them to express his sexual desire.

Later that night, he gets hit by a car in which Allyson is sitting, and Michael ends up killing his own psychiatrist and yet spares Allyson’s life. For now. 

He even watches Allyson get away to the forest. This would be Michael’s chance to kill her, easily so. Especially when she’s alone in a dark forest. But he chooses not to. He does this on purpose. Like I said, he fucking loves this. 

This game of cat and mouse, letting his victim escape and stalking them later. It’s fun to him. It potentially even turns him on and lets him fulfil his sexual lust.

Michael kills more policemen brutally including crushing his psychiatrist’s head with his boot like a watermelon and then arrives at his final destination. 

His favourite victim, his obsession: Laurie Strode. 

Once again, he is interrupted. This time, it is by Allyson’s dad, and he quickly murders him, putting no thought to it. He doesn’t stalk him like he stalked the babysitter or he stalked Allyson and even let her get away twice. Because he doesn’t get off on killing people he isn’t attracted to. They are merely a burden to him and need to get out of his fucking way as soon as possible to let him stalk his preferred victims and give him room to get off on that. 

Now that he found the Strode family, he couldn’t be more excited. This time, he is attacking right away. He starts choking Laurie like he did in the first movie and to many other female victims of his.

And the cat and mouse game continues. 

This is the fundamental theme of the movies, Michael stalking beautiful woman and getting off on that. He is evil so he has no guilt about murdering them, but he doesn’t murder them because he is evil---he murders them because it turns him on and serves as a sexual relief for him. Him being evil is merely a side effect. Michael doesn’t know how to express his sexuality in any other way. In his mind, he cannot have these girls. The only way of getting closer to them is to stalk and eventually murder them. So it is quite likely that Michael is a huge misogynist and hates women. But above that, Michael views them as objects of his violent desires. And that’s what leads him to kill them.

Keep in mind, this is only my personal interpretation so you can take it with a grain of salt. I have way more to analyse, especially because I left out many key moments from the first movie that partially had even stronger sexual themes. Anyhow, I hope whoever is reading this enjoyed it and has other questions/ideas/suggestions about Michael Myers!

[whateverisbeautiful]

Reveling in Richonne

#136 The Right One (9x03)

Y’all, if anything Richonne related was recorded and released then I gotta break it down. That’s just the rules. 😂 And there were three deleted scenes from this episode that didn’t make it on the air but were still filled with Richonne goodness so I definitely gotta break it down and revel in it.

So the first deleted scene is with the Grimes Family visiting Siddiq. Judith is looking at Siddiq like doctors visits are not her favorite and Rick and Michonne sit next to each other on the side, trying to be as positive as possible so that Judith will be down to get her check up. 

R&M look adorable as they so easily go into this parent role of encouraging Judith. ☺️ Like I love that they’re the kind of parents who both will feel it necessary to take time off to take their daughter to the doctor together as a whole family event. 

So Siddiq suggests to Judith that maybe her dad can go first and Rick’s all cutely nodding and willing to do this for his daughter and then he reassures her “And Family Fun Day right after, I promise.” as Michonne nods in agreement. My face hurts from smiling like a dork lol. I love that “family fun day” is the coined phrase for them and that Rick is so eager to give Judith (and Michonne) (and him) this Family Fun Day. I could listen to Rick refer to the three of them as family all day. 💯 

So Rick gets up and he and Siddiq demonstrate the whole breathing thing which is cute and Judith smiles very entertained, which is even cuter. And then Siddiq mentions that Judith’s file doesn’t have a family history. 

And Rick looks over to Michonne cuz they both know why this conversation is a bit awkward. I’m glad Rick confided in Michonne about that whole Lori and Shane moment in season 7 cuz now he has someone who can be on the same page with him about this kind of stuff.

Siddiq asks if there are any conditions that run in the family like allergies and chronic conditions and all that.

Both Rick and Michonne share a knowing look like, “Look our daughter has a very complicated family history” lol. 😬 Like look at their faces and tell me that’s not a direct quote from their mind.

It’s so interesting tho to have a moment in season nine that alludes to stuff that went down in season two. Again, Michonne never even met Lori and Shane but I’m glad she knows enough to be able to share an understanding and supportive feeling with Rick here, rather than this being something Rick has to carry alone. 

And Rick seems very happy to sort of look at Michonne throughout like “well ain’t this a little messy situation cuz of messy Lori & Shane”. Direct quote from Rick’s mind. 😂

But Rick plays it off saying, “I can’t remember much.” I feel like this really does cement that Rick has reason to be sure Judith isn’t his. Cuz I feel like if it was just a “feeling” that she’s not his biological daughter then he would’ve at least tried to think of some family conditions he might have, but Homeboy’s certain so he’s like nope I did the math and you don’t have to worry about my family history here.

I know for R&M, Judith is their daughter period so I feel like that’d be why they don’t clarify to Siddiq that her parents aren’t actually alive, cuz as far as anyone is concerned Rick and Michonne are her parents.

Rick then quickly changes the subject and asks about Aaron and then they talk about the missing savior and all that. Michonne’s a bit concerned about the fact that a savior was sent packing by Rick and left at night, but Rick is fairly certain it’s nbd. 

And I wish it was no problem. I really do. Cuz then that perfect family fun day wouldn’t have had to end so abruptly. But I just have to note this scene for being yet another glimpse into the lives of the Grimes mom and dad. 😊

The next deleted scene is on the picnic blanket. I wanted this picnic blanket scene to be it’s own episode/spin-off series lol. 😂 But I’m glad that since it was only a clip in the montage, that there was at least a deleted scene with them in this moment.

The scene starts with Rick and Michonne watching Judith in this quiet peaceful environment. Judith coughs and Rick is quick to assure both him and Michonne, “It’s just a cough, nothing to worry about.”  

Michonne agrees and says, “Yeah. Still I’m glad we checked cuz you never know.” Mama Michonne’s saying it’s better to be safe than sorry which I’m sure she feels strongly after losing both her sons so suddenly.

There’s something deep about this moment between them because of course they’re caring parents so that’s why this cough is of note to them, but also as of now this is their last remaining kid. And I know they are both so resolved to never lose her or let anything bad happen to her, whether it be something big like a walker and outside threats or something seemingly “small” like a cough and potential sickness.

Rick gets closer to Michonne and says, “If we could just have a few more years like this; quiet ones. For her sake and ours.” 

I really love that it’s been made clear multiple times throughout this series that Rick’s ideal life would consist of just getting peaceful time with Michonne and their family. 

Just like he wanted a few more days in 7x12, here he expresses wanting a few more years to have beautiful moments like this family fun day. The type of day they’re having and have clearly had in the last year and a half is the type of life he wants Judith to grow up with.

It’s sweet that he says for her sake but also for theirs. Of course they want Judith to have the best and happiest life possible, but I appreciate that Rick wants that for him and Michonne too. “And ours”. They’re married, y’all. 🙌🏽💯

I feel like this line is also meant to allude to the fact that raising a new baby in a world that can finally be quiet and tranquil would be great for them and their expanding family. Like he’s saying, if we can have peaceful years like this, then our babies (plural!!) will really be able to thrive.

I’m just glad Rick was written to be so expressive of loving his time with Michonne and their family this season. Like any chance he gets he’s giving her his focus and expressing his love and appreciation both verbally and non verbally. 

It also just makes me think about how, in Carl’s final moments. Carl shared his vision of the future with R&M and one of the things he envisioned is that “Michonne is happy.” That’s something that was important to Carl and has been important to Rick for a long time too. Rick promised Carl he’d make everything in Carl’s vision real and I feel like making Michonne happy has been a priority to Rick this season, after having to go on his own grieving journey last season. 

With this deleted scene, I love that Rick somewhat randomly brings up how what he wants is to live out his years just like this with them. Years, y’all. 🙌🏽 That’s significant cuz in the past nobody had the luxury to think in terms of years, TF was just trying to survive and make it to the next day. But this really does show how sustainable life’s become, that Rick can now talk in terms of years and that he wants that much time to not just survive but really live and enjoy life with his family.

Michonne of course agrees and says yeah. And it’s emotional cuz this is all both of them want. As hard as they’ve fought to survive and as much as they’ve been through, all they want is to be able to put that aside and live life as a family.

And then as they both smile watching Judith, who is their little light, Rick takes Michonne’s hand. I absolutely adore this. 🥰 

One; I adore that they hold hands any chance they get and two; just the act is so sweet, especially because I feel like this is Rick at his most happy and content. And I feel like him taking her hand emphasizes the “and ours” part cuz he’s like this right here, watching our daughter is perfect and also this right here being with you is what makes it perfect too. So he wants Michonne to know that she’s his light and hope in this as well. 😌 

He takes her hand also to just serve as yet another reminder that no matter what happens they’re in it together. The world has a tendency to scream at them a lot but they know they can withstand whatever would come at them in these coming years. 

And this couple is balanced cuz he takes her hand in this moment to offer comfort and then as we saw in the actual episode, Michonne does the same when she takes his hand to offer comfort before he goes. I love the parallel of that cuz it illustrates how they both equally offer each other this comfort and unity. 

I was just looking at Rick and Michonne and Judith together at this picnic like...

Like Rick knows he’s got the best wife and that with all the work the two of them have put in to making this world civil again, he believes they’ll be able to rest and enjoy it. 

He also knows that they’re taking a huge step and investment in believing this world will be at peace, by agreeing to bring a kid into all this. I love that in this moment it’s the two of them, as this unbreakable unit and as this unmatched love, ready to take on the future together. 👏🏽👏🏽😊

So the final deleted scene from this episode is one with Rick and Carol. They all split up with people they trust so Rick pairs with Carol. As they walk Rick notices Carol’s engagement ring and says, “It looks good.” And I was like, Rick there’s another woman who a ring would look real good on too. 👌

Rick goes on to tell Carol how he’s happy for her that she found a good person and the right person in all this. And it’s sweet that he’s taking time out to address this and express his fondness for Carol and Ezekiel. He personally knows how fortunate finding that someone special is, so he’s happy Carol’s experiencing some of what he’s gotten to experience. 

And Carol’s a real one cuz she tells Rick, “You too.” in regards to him finding Michonne. I seriously love that she tells Rick he found the right person for him cuz...

And Rick also was thinking in his head “facts” at the moment, cuz he just looks so proud and certain when he lifts up his head and shoulders and confidently says, “Yeah, I did.” 😋

I’m beyond here for this moment and I really wish it would’ve made the cut. It’s already nice to cement he found a good person in all this but the part I love most is “the right person”. Rick knows he is with the right person. He’s with the one. 

I also wish this scene had made the cut because one thing I had been wanting is for outside characters to acknowledge Rick and Michonne as a couple more. It really hasn’t been since 6x11 where characters really made note of Richonne. And granted it’s not like it has to be the talk of the town but still. 

And it means a lot for Carol to be the one to say this cuz Carol was in season one. She’s known Rick a long time and she knew Lori. So for Carol to be like “Rick, we both upgraded in this apocalypse” is great and it’s true. 💯😋 

I love that Rick gets to acknowledge to someone that he found the right person. He found the person he was meant for and who was meant for him. And he proudly knows it. 

Him and Carol know he’s got the baddest chick in the game. Amen. So Rick says “Yeah I did” but y’all that translates to...

#DirectQuote from the famous Rick Grime’s mind lol.

This moment also reminds me of when Morales ran into Rick in season eight and was surprised to learn that Glenn had found a wife in all this. And Rick was able to acknowledge both there and now how that’s possible, because he’s living out a story where he found his soul mate in all this too. 

It’s great that he so happily and naturally expresses this, especially after the day he’d had with Michonne. Like this is coming off of the beautiful morning he’s had with her and the family fun day they spent together and so he’s especially thinking about how he’s got the right one and the best one and is proud to declare it.

And then Carol smiles and says, “Who’d have thought?” cuz it is quite a whirlwind to think one could find the love of their life in all this, especially after such a tumultuous first relationship, but for Rick that’s exactly what happened.

(Side note: I miss seeing Carol with this haircut. Hopefully she goes back to this style cuz if they’re going to take down Alpha then…they betta call Carol with the short hair 😂.)

In the part of this scene that did make the cut, Rick confides in Carol and tells her that every morning he wakes up and has this moment of wanting to walk down and kill Negan and just finish off the saviors and how in that moment it’s all he wants. I like the significance of this line because we saw what he actually did in his morning which is connect with his family. 

It shows that while he may wake up with a rage towards Negan, he instead turns his attention towards all the good in his life. He turns to Michonne, and Judith, and Carl and then he’s reminded of what’s more important than killing his enemy. His family brings him back. 😌

Rick says he thinks about everyone they’ve lost and how he has to honor them. (Although call me crazy but I low key think Abraham and Glenn would be honored to have someone kill Negan and keep him from messing with anyone else lol. 👀) And Rick says he knows it’s time to build life not take it which is exactly what he and Michonne are doing and have done. 

I appreciate that 9x03 was such a blessing, even the deleted scenes had prime Richonne content. 🙌🏽

And it’s great hearing Rick verbally confirm what we all been knew and that’s that; Rick and Michonne got the right one. 😊💯🎉

gifs source: @michonnegrimes

[keeroo92]

Be My Nightmare Ch2

Of Charcoal and Lust

Warnings for references to self-harm, mental illness and blood kink. Spicy at the end.

~~~Previous Chapter~~~

Word count - 4,048

____________________

---Reader---

You spent the rest of the week with your other patients, but you couldn’t keep your thoughts away from V. He was an enigma, the kind of case you’d been waiting for. A killer, but with brains. Capable of planning, and trickery. He’d be a tough man to work with, a stark contrast to the boring tedium of the masses.

“Dr. Waras, are you listening?”

Speaking of…

You tapped your pen against your lips and met the eyes of your current patient, Ken Sinclair. Guilty of animal abuse but he blamed it on visions of the future. He also had a lovely tendency to believe every conspiracy theory known to man.

“Of course I am. Please, continue,” you replied.

He shifted his weight and stared at the floor. Evasion. You made a note.

“I… so the cat next door, he was going to start a revolution. I saw it.”

“What sort of revolution? How was the cat going to begin?”

Ken fidgeted, his fingers betraying his anxiety. Due to his enjoyment of conspiracies, the man was extremely slow to trust. You internally rolled your eyes.

“I’m truly curious. I have a cat myself, did you know that?”

A lie, but a harmless one. Ken smiled, his fingers relaxing at the reassuring tone of your voice. Child’s play.

“He was going to start with his owner, the guy worked for the CIA.”

You widened your eyes and made a note. It was possible the neighbor actually did work for the CIA, but most likely it was yet another delusion. Poor Ken had trouble telling the difference. He had potential, though. If he made enough progress he might someday get to go home.

But it was doubtful.

By the end of the session, you had heard enough quackery to last until next time. You waved to Ken as Aaron led him back to his room and checked your schedule to see which patient was next, even though you already knew. You’d been looking forward to this for days.

V.

After your first meeting with him, his file proved a fascinating read. An art student from a prestigious university, he’d suddenly dropped out last year and vanished. His family searched for months but found no trace of the gifted artist. His whereabouts between then and the murders were hazy at best, only unconfirmed rumors or hearsay.

And the murders themselves were truly obscene. Details were sketchy on how he chose the family, but the scene was thoroughly documented. Blood so deep the cops wore galoshes, a mixture of his victims and several cows. The walls were painted with the crimson fluid, the wet dribbles still trailing to the kick molding. He’d used a nailgun to affix lengths of ropy intestines to his artwork as a frame, spearing a kidney and part of the child’s liver as focal points.

The bodies themselves were arranged in a gruesome tableau. The mother and father were stripped naked, splayed out for all to see on the couch. He hadn’t bothered trying to disguise where his blades had left their marks, choosing instead to draw attention to the young child strung up above her parents on the chandelier. The child had died first, her blood dripping into the heartbroken faces of her parents as he carved them up.

He didn’t gag them. The neighbors heard the keening wails but by the time the police arrived, he was licking the gristle from his fingertips and humming a piece of classical music. He’d welcomed the officers, offering bags for them to vomit into even as the man with the strongest stomach cuffed him.

The case never even made it to trial. He pled guilty with a smile, and the judge was all too happy to ship him off to an asylum based off his lawyer’s recommendation.

And now here he was, being led into your office by Kevin with a lidded gaze and a suggestive smirk. The orderly affixed the cuffs to the wall with a length of nylon rope, making sure V couldn’t reach you if you stayed at the desk. The young man saluted you and took his leave, and you were alone with the crazed murderer.

“How lovely to see you again, Y/N,” he purred. Even knowing his crimes, you couldn’t deny his voice held great allure. Again, you were struck by the waste of a life before you. He had so much potential, only to fall into madness.

“Hello again, V. How are you feeling today?”

You made it a point not to acknowledge the way he addressed you. To insist on him using your title would only show weakness, that his opinion of you held value. He could call you whatever he liked; you were the one in control here.

He smirked and pulled up his legs, sitting cross legged on the couch. “I’m well. Quite a treat to stretch my legs today. It’s almost a shame how close your office is.”

He’s reminding me of when I stretched his leg. Trying to set me off my game.

You smiled and made a note.

“True, maybe Kevin can take you for a walk after we’re finished.”

Asserting your control, telling him you held his fate in your hands. What fun he was already; the mind games alone were worth the wait.

“That would be nice.”

His eyes gleamed. He knew exactly what you were trying to do. Damn.

“Let’s get started.”

V licked his lips and gazed at you, his meaning clear. “Do let’s.”

You continued without missing a beat. “Here at Mundus Psychiatric, we have a three-pronged system to rehabilitate violent offenders. First off is medication. Dr. Malphas has you on Seroquel, and he’ll be in charge of your prescriptions based on my notes. He’ll meet with you personally once a month.”

You paused to give him a chance to ask any questions, but he only stared at you. On to the next section, then.

“Next, you’ll meet with me on a daily basis to work through any trauma or psychological issues. My job is to help you reach a healthy state of mind and to do that I need you to work with me.”

You paused again, giving the man a meaningful look. He licked his lips.

Right. On to the last one.

“The third approach involves creative catharsis. I imagine this will be of particular interest to you due to your background, but if you display signs of aggression or self-harm, this privilege will be revoked.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Art.”

His hands twitched and he inhaled sharply, his excitement clear. As you’d thought; this would be the way to reach him. You couldn’t help but be curious what he would create, especially without human remains to use as materials. Watching him at work could grant you insights otherwise hidden from view, and you slid open the lower drawer of your desk to pull out supplies with excitement.

---V---

The dull stub of charcoal was the most beautiful thing he’d seen in months. His mouth watered, his fingers twitching to outline the images in his mind. He could almost hear the scratching of the dark substance against paper. He couldn’t look away.

It occurred to him that this was a test, some menial attempt to gain new insights into his character. Yet he didn’t care. The urge was too strong and he didn’t hesitate as you arranged a sheet of paper on a clipboard and offered it to him with the nub of charcoal.

What to draw, that was the question. His first work in months, it had to be sublime. Something to celebrate the occasion.

Draw her, idiot.

He bit his lip to remain silent. It wouldn’t do to reveal Vergil to you, not yet. It was too early to introduce you to such thoughts. Still, he had a point.

Nothing inappropriate, mind you. A portrait. No blood or tears.

He sighed internally. How boring. The image of your face twisted in pain and pleasure, like Bernini’s Saint Teresa in Ecstasy was oh so tempting. He’d imagined it many times already, it would be lovely to bring the image to life.

Don’t be a fool.

He drew the first line. The shape of your face was simple, but how to arrange your features? What did your smile look like? Did your eyes crinkle?

His focused gaze shifted to meet yours. You were watching his every move, intent curiosity on every feature. Vergil had been right, you were paying far too much attention for him to indulge. Damn him.

“What’s her name?” you asked.

The truth was too risky, yet you’d have to be blind to not make the connection by the time he was finished. He had to avoid answering, then.

“Would you mind smiling for me? It’s been a long time since I saw happiness.”

You leaned back in your chair and made a note. He clenched his jaw, hating the reminder of the situation. How he craved the chance to connect without the framework of your profession. To do so was essential to your growth.

A warning growl sounded in his head, Shadow reminding him of his goals. Truly, she was the best of them all. He schooled his features into an expression of raw vulnerability, furrowing his brow and angling his head so the light reflected from his eyes. You tapped your pen against your lips and empathy bloomed in your stare.

Victory was sweet.

“I suppose it couldn’t hurt. Let’s keep talking while you work, too.”

He nodded and added another line, glancing between the paper and your face. Though you did smile, it seemed false. Forced. It gave him what he needed to add lips, but to get the eyes right he needed to see you laugh.

“What shall we talk about?”

You hummed and he added the shadow cast by your nose.

“Let’s start with what happened between you leaving school and the murders.”

He smirked. Could you have given him a better opening? Doubtful.

“Oh, is that all?” he replied, injecting his voice with all the sarcasm he could muster. You tried to hide it, but you were amused. He saw the glint of humor in your eyes as you fought to restrain a chuckle. Perfect, just what he needed. He began outlining your eyes.

“Unless you’d rather tell me more about Griffon.”

He hummed and pondered his choices. It was always an option to remain silent, but that would do nothing to further his goals. He chose the safer of the two subjects and tilted his head, comparing the sketch with reality. Sufficient, considering the circumstances.

“I spent a great deal of time wandering, observing humanity in action. Planning my masterpiece.”

You made a note. He added a few lines to your brows, darkening them to his liking.

“So you knew in advance what you were going to do?”

He smirked and ran a thumb over the brows to smudge them. Perfection. “Only vaguely.”

Another note. It was becoming distracting. He held the clipboard higher, blocking his line of sight to focus.

“Tell me more about your masterpiece.”

Careful.

He could speak on it for hours, but he needed to be cautious. How to frame his thoughts so they didn’t seem too outlandish? He wasn’t unaware of how far from the norm his reality was; far from it. But it wasn’t his fault the world was blind.

“It was meant to be a statement on humanity’s focus on innocence and virtue, and how foolish it is. Naivete should not be praised, it should be excised. It is weakness to intentionally keep blinders on and block out the pain of reality.”

You chuckled. He’d never heard the sound before and closed his eyes to memorize it. It would sound all the more lovely if you were by his side, blade in hand.

“You have a point, though your methods seem extreme. Why not try something less drastic first?”

“The gentler the approach, the fewer people it reaches and the duller its impact. I had to be drastic to make my message clear.”

He shaded the strands of your hair. Such a beautiful color, it would be divine in red.

“I think I understand. You had to be bold to be heard.”

His lips twisted into a smirk. You really did show great promise. He should reward you. Another morsel, just a taste of what he had to offer.

“Exactly. Think of all the great artists. They were great for many reasons but chief among them was nerve. Have you studied art history?”

You shook your head and remained silent, waiting for him to elaborate. He allowed himself a moment of self-satisfaction – so far, he had played this perfectly.

“Write this down and do some research. Rubens’ Massacre of the Innocents. Rembrandt’s Blinding of Samson. Caravaggio’s Judith Beheading Holofernes. Titian’s Flaying of Marsyas. Art is full of examples of violence and the macabre. Several artists have even used human remains as subjects.”

He paused, letting you finish taking down his referrals. It was difficult to limit his choices to only the few, but there would be time to show you more. First, you must see his perspective. He added the final touches to the portrait of you and added a dark V to the bottom right corner with a smile.

“Why do you think that is? That some artists paint such darkness while others don’t.”

He scoffed. “Those whose art reflects traditional beauty are skilled, I cannot deny that. But they are limited. Only through pain and suffering do we grow, only through torment do we reach truth. They are distracted by worldly appeals and though their work is pleasing, it offers no deeper meaning. The purpose of art is to guide the viewer to a better understanding of reality. How can that happen if the viewer is subjected only to pleasantness?”

You pursed your lips. Had he gone too far? Perhaps an example would help you see. A contrast. He wiped the dust from his hands, leaving black stains on his plain linens.

“May I have another piece of paper?”

Within moments, his hand was flying across a fresh sheet. Powerful strokes left dark lines behind as he furiously sketched, using his own face so as not to alarm you. He added tear tracks and small drops of fluid oozing from thin lines. The eyes showed fear and rage, a tempest of emotion in black and white. A few careful smudges and the drawing was complete. He held out both to you and waited.

“These are incredible… You have true talent, V.”

Your eyes were wide, lips parted in awe at his meager efforts. He could do so much better. How would you react to a piece created with more intent, more thought behind it? Images of you flooded his mind, worshipful and obedient to his whims. He shifted his weight to ease the ache in his cock at the thought of sketching your lips covering his length, blood leaking from your mouth to drip on his thighs.

Focus. Be patient.

He pulled at the nylon cord anchoring him to the wall, taking all the slack available to rest his hands in his lap and subtly rub himself. It sent him reeling to be able to touch himself at last. He bit his cheek to withhold a moan as his thumb caressed the ridge of his head, the fabric sticking to his slit from his arousal.

Your eyes lifted and he forced his hands to lie still. Such torture, to have relief so near and yet so far. He licked his lips.

“Do you see now? Do you understand?”

You sighed and set the drawings aside. He didn’t miss the way your eyes lingered on the page featuring his own face twisted in agony. Something soft tinted your face and you cleared your throat before turning to face him once more. He shifted his hips again.

“I understand your perspective, though I’m not sure I agree with it. Art serves many purposes to many people. Who am I to judge what its true role is?”

A safe answer. She begins to see but refuses to admit it.

It was enough. For now. He leaned back and relaxed his posture, wondering what you would ask next. With the progress so far, perhaps he could be more cooperative with his answer.

“When did Griffon first speak to you?”

---Reader---

His art was remarkable. The raw emotion in the charcoal astounded you and you struggled to refocus. Watching him work gave you a new appreciation for his looks, too. The focus and intensity of his eyes as he added line after line, the intimacy of the way he asked for a smile, the movements of his lithe fingers… it was beautiful to behold.

It was a testament to your training and professionalism that you didn’t react when he started fondling himself. He wasn’t the first patient to indulge sexual desires in your office, but he was by far the most attractive. You pursed your lips and adjusted your legs, trying to ignore the heat pooling in your belly. It made you feel unclean to have such a strong reaction and yet it refused to diminish.

This man will be the end of me if I’m not careful.

So, you steered the conversation into safer waters, back to something that was less likely to arouse his passions. He clenched his jaw and his fingers twitched as if to rub his length again, and you hastily looked elsewhere as he answered.

“Early May, just under a year ago.”

You made a note. “Does Griffon speak to anyone else?”

He smirked and his eyes gleamed. It sent a tremor of anticipation through you to see the hunger in his gaze.

“Not yet.”

Yet? That’s unusual.

You made a note just as a gentle tap sounded from the door. Kevin was back to take V to his room. The time had passed so quickly you hadn’t noticed. You mentally shook yourself and gave V a smile.

“Looks like we’re out of time for today.”

“May I make a request?”

You paused. From the way he still gripped the charcoal, you had a guess as to what he wanted. It wasn’t unreasonable to allow him to keep the nub and send him off with a few sheets of paper, but it was decidedly against protocol. Regardless, you had to hear him out.

“Of course.”

He held up the charcoal. “May I take this with me, and some paper? It’s dreadfully boring to sit in that room with nothing to do.”

Another gentle tap and the door opened. Kevin walked over with a smile, waiting for the go-ahead to release the artist. You sighed. If only it were up to you.

“I’ll talk to Dr. Malphas about it on your behalf. We’ll see,” you replied, reaching out to take the charcoal away. He didn’t fight you, but the sadness in his eyes almost stopped you in your tracks. There was one thing you could grant him. Hopefully it would bridge the gap.

“Kevin, take him for a lap around the building to stretch his legs. You won’t be difficult, will you V?”

He shook his head and smirked. Kevin shrugged and untied the nylon cord, leading V away. The moment the door closed, you let out a deep sigh, slumping in your chair.

As far as first sessions normally went, this had been a home run. You’d gained more information than you expected, seen a facet of the man you knew was integral to his recovery. Maintained the balance of power and given him a reward. You’d done your job.

So why did you feel so conflicted?

---V---

The walk was a blessed gift and he savored every step. He also made it a point to note the security gates and location of the stairwell, creating a map in his mind for future use. As Kevin led him back toward his room, he requested a pit stop. His room didn’t have a toilet, due to concerns of self-harm.

As Kevin retreated behind the transparent panel, giving him the barest semblance of privacy, he grinned. It was all too easy to conjure images to fuel his need and within a few pumps he was fully hard. He angled his body to hide his activity and let himself imagine it was your slim hand wrapped around him.

He closed his eyes and wondered how tight you were, whether you’d gasp as he sank inside you. The couch in your office was the perfect size, was it bolted to the floor or could he make it move? He bit his lip to keep from groaning, mind full of all the ways he’d decorate your flesh with bruises and bite marks. You’d be ethereal with a few tasteful splashes of blood and his cum leaking from your lips.

His hand quickened along with his panting as he thought about claiming you as his own, leaving this accursed place behind and finding somewhere to hone his craft and teach you all he knew. He would set you free and share his every creation with you. If you desired it, he’d use the bodies of his chosen to show you how he’d fuck you until you bled. His hands would stifle any cries so as not to spoil the mood as he held your sweet gaze and pounded into another. Would you touch yourself? Would you want a turn?

He couldn’t suppress his drawn out whine as he exploded. Hot ropes of white spewed from his tip as he quivered his release, hand coaxing every last drop into open air. His hips rolled forward, smacking against his palm in a poor approximation of his plans for you.

After a moment to catch his breath, he opened his eyes to judge his work. Evidence of his release coated the wall behind the toilet, crossing over the porcelain into the urinal. It was a shame he had to leave it behind, but he’d have other chances. He hummed and licked his fingers clean, another surge of lust pulsing inside him as he imagined your tongue on his flesh. Would you enjoy the salty flavor?

He had faith.

“Almost done?” Kevin called out. He’d forgotten the simpleton was watching.

“Almost.”

He relieved himself quickly, knowing he wouldn’t get another chance for a while. A hasty wash of his hands and he rejoined the orderly with a satisfied smile.

The man escorted him to his room in silence, hooking his wrists and ankles into the bed once more without meeting his eyes. It was easy to figure out why – he must have seen V’s gratuitous self-indulgence. The artist smirked as Kevin turned to leave, but he paused at the door.

“Next time you do that, can you keep the mess contained? I have to go clean it now.”

V bared his teeth in a grin. “Apologies.”

Kevin shuffled his feet. “I don’t care if you need to do it, just… you know.”

Oh for heaven’s sake, have mercy on the fool.

“Hush, Vergil! I’ll be more mindful next time.”

“Thanks,” Kevin replied, and finally left him in peace.

He replayed every frame of his session with you, analyzing your reactions. It was a promising start, but he still needed to tread carefully. He couldn’t afford to show his hand too early or all would be lost. Your curiosity and logic would be points in his favor, but you had a long way to go before you were his equal.

And Kevin… the man might turn out to be an ally. The dolt had limited usefulness, but he wasn’t so arrogant as to ignore possible assets. He had plenty to offer, just not intelligence.

Hours passed and his mind grew restless. It truly was infuriating to be restrained like this, with nothing to occupy his thoughts except his current predicament. He tugged at the leather periodically, but he lacked the strength to break free. When he saw you next he could bring it up, but that was ages away. How to pass the time?

He shifted his weight and smirked. A few delicious ideas came to mind.

~~~Next Chapter~~~

[kumkaniudaku]

Rough Patch: Three

ONE. COUPLES THERAPY. 

Warnings: Smut (18+ Content)

Word Count: 3,416

Friday morning came on the heels of another night of separation.

Thursday ended with exponentially more conversation as Chadwick and Tasha maneuvered around the kitchen at the same time making small talk, but when the stars began to twinkle in the night sky and the desire for sleep took over, husband and wife went to separate bedrooms after exchanging timid good nights.

A two-room divide did little to sever the emotional ties to each other as they spent hours tossing and turning with thoughts of the next morning. Chadwick wondered if what he had planned would be enough to recapture his wife’s attention, and Tasha replayed her mental reminder to trust her husband and allow him to lead.

By the next morning, Tasha was up and moving long before she had planned to keep her mind busy until Chadwick was ready to start the day. Her thoughts completely consumed her as she loaded the dryer with bedsheets and she missed the heavy feet beating against the floor in her direction.

“Hey, I-”

His abrupt greeting startled Tasha into an involuntary yelp as she clutched her chest to stabilize her breathing. Chadwick chuckled and leaned against the door frame to wait for her to calm down.

“Yeah, just laugh it up. You almost killed me before the sun could even get all the way in the sky.”

“Sorry, Co. I came up to tell you that breakfast is ready and that you look really pretty this morning.”

“Really,” she questioned before quickly checking herself. It didn’t matter if she was clad in a loose fitting, spaghetti strapped nightgown. If he thought she looked pretty, there was no reason to challenge him. “Wait don’t count that one. I meant to say thank you.”

“I’ll let you slide this time. Now c’mon. Your omelet is getting cold.”

Tasha’s eyebrows lifted at the mention of her second favorite breakfast dish, yet she pushed the questions she had to the back of her mind to follow Chadwick downstairs.

“I know I don’t cook as well as you, but I tried to make your favorites. There’s French toast, that spinach omelet you like, sausage patties, and strawberries that I had to fight an old lady to get the other day.” As he explained the spread laid out on the kitchen island, she stood behind him in silence.

“You hate it, don’t you? Too many carbs? I didn’t even think about that.”

“What? No! It’s perfect. Thank you...again.”

“You don’t have to keep saying thank you, Co,” he reassured in the midst of pulling flatware and plates from their holding spaces.

“I know, but I want to because I mean it. You could’ve said no to all of this and left, but you’re still here.”

Rounding the counter, Chadwick shrugged as he sat the plates on the table, “For the record, I never had any intentions to leave. We gon’ figure this out.”

Chadwick’s admission made Tasha smile behind her coffee mug. She couldn’t tell if she was grateful that her husband had no intentions of abandoning their union or proud that they had spent 10 minutes conversing without jumping down each other’s throat.

The conversation soon tapered into the soft scrape of utensils against the breakfast plates. Both of them strategically stole glances at each other in the silence, picking a new feature to mentally praise.

“So, I was thinking,” Chadwick started between bites of his final piece of french toast. “I want to date you if that’s okay.”

“Date me? We’re married, Aaron.”

“I know, I know, but we never got the chance to really date. I want to get to know you again if that’s okay. I think it’ll help us remember what we’re supposed to be doing.”

From the pleading look in his deep brown eyes, it was clear that the notion of dating despite being married was important to Chadwick.

“Okay. Let’s date.” Tasha watched Chadwick’s smile spread across his entire face for the first time in a long time as he danced in his chair. “When is our first date? What should I wear?”

“I’d say you look beautiful already. This my favorite night thing of yours.”

“Woah! Hold up. Are you saying this was our first date?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. We have to make up for lost time today, so I have a couple more planned before the day is over. How does dinner and dessert after we finish watching Luther and giving each other pedicures sound?”

“We’re gonna give each other pedicures? As in I have to touch your feet?”

“Hell yeah! You thought you were the only one that likes nice toes?”

Silence engulfed the room before the couple shared loud laughter that no longer felt foreign. This is the relationship they remembered and were determined to get back to.

“Alright, then. Dinner and feet. I like it. Anything else?”

“That’s it for now,” He smiled over his shoulder on the way to the kitchen sink. “Go hang out in the living room and I’ll join you after I clean the kitchen.”

Under Chadwick’s direction, CoCo found herself nervously fidgeting with whatever she could get her hands on while she waited for him to join her on the couch. She wasn’t sure why she was so nervous but felt her apprehension melt away once their second date of the day began.

Every moment after he took his spot on the other end of the couch and draped the blanket over their bodies felt magical. Their commitment to getting to know each other in a way that they had never explored resulted in revelations neither of them could imagine.

Chadwick learned that during Tasha’s stay in Atlanta she taught herself how to bake and found that she really enjoyed the activity despite gaining weight from “taste testing.” CoCo was shocked to learn the origin story behind Chadwick’s decision to switch to a plant-based lifestyle, citing a Facebook video his cousin tagged him in as the catalyst for his new diet. As each activity passed, the brick wall that they had built in four months came undone brick by brick.

A trip to the grocery store to purchase the necessary for what Chadwick considered a plant-based soul food dinner presented the couple with an old friend they hadn’t expected and old feelings that needed to be confronted.

“It’s so crazy that we saw your ex,” CoCo laughed before glancing at Chadwick as he settled onto the floor on the other side of the coffee table to begin his meal. “Especially considering, you know...what we’re going through.”

“I mean, I guess it’s kind of crazy. I wasn’t paying much attention to her to be honest.”

Tasha shrugged before turning her attention to her cell food, “I hear you. She looked nice. Really pretty actually.”

“She did, but I’m on focused on one person right now.” Chadwick watched Tasha look up at him for confirmation, prompting him to drop his utensils and grab her hands.

“I need you to know that I have not and will not stop loving you. Have I been pissed at you? Yes,” he laughed. “But you will always have my love. We’re going to figure this out, and in ten years when we’re listening to our kids play in the next room, we’ll remember this moment and know that we can overcome whatever shit gets thrown our way.”

The tears building in the corners of her eyes betrayed Tasha and trickled down her cheeks to be wiped away with the pad of Chadwick’s thumb.

“Dammit! I didn’t mean to cry tonight. Who cries on the fifth date?”

“I guess it depends on the context. I’ve had women cry by the fifth date. Usually sooner.”

Chadwick’s cheeky grin contrasted CoCo’s shocked expression and light gasp. “Aaron! I hope you don’t expect me to let you at it so quickly.”

“Expect? No. Am I hoping for at least a hug tonight? Definitely.”

“A hug, huh,” she questioned before stuffing a forkful of steamed kale into her mouth. “I think I can do a hug. We’ll see.”

“I can live with that.”

What Tasha didn’t know was the mere promise of physical contact had Chadwick’s heart racing at unsafe levels. Of the two of them, he was the one that craved physical intimacy. He’d long lost count of the nights he spent trying to relieve himself of the pent up energy to no avail. He needed skin to skin contact but was willing to wait until the time was right for both of them.

Dinner progressed faster than they desired, leading to a joint effort to clean the kitchen while they laughed and joked about moments from their time in school. But, even that activity came to an end before they were ready, and soon, the trek upstairs to their bedrooms commenced.

Chadwick walked Tasha to her door like a teenage boy would do after the prom, contemplating if he should make the move for the hug or let his wife dictate the pace.

“Well, I guess this is it,” he sighed as he turned to face her. “I had a lot of fun with you today. Maybe I could get your number or…”

“Or I could just see you downstairs for breakfast in the morning. My treat?”

“Wow, a sixth date! I’d say we were going steady.”

“Going steady,” she questioned with a smile. “I think it’s called going together these days.”

“I’ll take either one as long as we’re exclusive.”

“I like the sound of being exclusive.” Lost in their own world, they stood staring and smiling at each other as all trace of reality disappeared. This was the feeling they were missing. This is the version of themselves that they knew still existed beneath the turmoil. Sudden realization ended the moment and produced a harsh curse as CoCo pressed her palm against her forehead. “Shit! I forgot to make the bed earlier.”

“I can help you,” Chadwick blurted before he could catch himself. “I mean, you know, the bed is pretty big. It’s gonna be hard to...I’m talking too much. Sorry.”

“You’re saying just enough. I’ll have you in and out pretty quick. That sounded terrible.”

“It didn’t sound nearly as bad as you think. Trust me.”

CoCo missed the innuendo as she shuffled into the bedroom absorbed in her own thoughts. Chadwick trailed behind, taking in the space that he hadn’t seen in what felt like forever. He was surprised to find all of his belongings in their original spots, including the pillows he left behind. He noticed the smell of his second favorite cologne lingering in the air and he wondered if his notion that she had sprayed it on the sheets before drying was true.

“I guess this would be a perfect time to let you lead, so...where should we start? Aaron. Chadwick!”

“Huh? I-I’m sorry.”

“Are you okay? If you don’t want to help it’s fine.”

“No,” he exclaimed. “I just- have you been spraying my cologne? It smells just like the one I left in here.”

“What can I say? I like the smell. I like it more when it’s attached to someone, but I make do.”

Chadwick eyed her from his side of the bed with a smile, taking pride in the fact that she still thought about him in his absence.

Tasha hated the way Chadwick made the bed and, in the past, would change it the moment he was no longer around. He knew this information and made it a point to incorporate the methods she liked to make her comfortable with following his lead. In ten short minutes, they were playfully tossing pillows to each other before meeting up at the foot of the bed to admire their work.

“We make a good team, huh,” Tasha smiled as she playfully bumped into Chadwick’s arm to draw a quiet laugh from him. “I guess this is good night.”

“I guess it is.”

“Well…” An awkward bout of silence consumed them as CoCo contemplated her next move. “Can I hug you? You know...as a thank you?”

“Sure. Of course!”

The hug started with a tentative touch. Tasha carefully stepped forward to wrap her arms around Chadwick’s midsection while he slowly pulled her closer and rested his chin on her head.

In any other situation, hugging a person for such an extended amount of time can be strange, but neither of them felt put off by the show of affection. Being in such close proximity felt natural and needed. Muscles relaxed and breathing slowed their racing hearts as they held each other and gently swayed from side to side.

Tension didn’t return until they pulled away to look at each other. This was a new tension; a familiar tension. This was the tension they felt on their wedding night, or after their first encounter in this very room.

Chadwick’s hand rose to trace Tasha’s jaw with a feather-soft touch as he examined her reaction. Her eyes closed at the contact and she seemed to stop breathing until a set of lips came in contact with hers. A short kiss by most standards carried all of the latent passion and desire that they’d carried for four months. Their bodies became pressed together as he flattened his palm against the small of her back to bring them closer.

When they pulled apart hoping that their thirst for the other was quenched, they found that they had only added lighter fluid to the fire.

“I love you.”

Three words said simultaneously by two people destined to be together. Previous feelings came rushing in to charge the special moment with a whirlwind of energy.

Their lips connected again in a more feverish kiss as Chadwick moved their bodies back to the bench at the end of the bed. Tasha allowed her husband to move them at his pace as she settled onto his lap with her knees on either side of his hips. With every sigh of content or soft graze of flesh against flesh, apprehension transformed into desire.

Reaching between their bodies, Tasha attempted to undo Chadwick’s belt only to be stopped.

“What? What did I do?”

“If we’re going to do this, I want it to be the right way, not just because we haven’t touched each other in a while.”

“So you don’t want this,” Tasha asked, disappointment evident in her delivery.

“I think you can feel how much I want this,” he laughed as he gestured below his waist. “But I don’t want to be done and go back to hating each other the next day. Let’s do it the way we should have the first time. I promise I can get us there if you’ll trust me.”

Settling back into his lap, Tasha’s natural inclination to take control had been tested all day and she hadn’t spontaneously combusted. Now was the moment that she could make significant change or recoil into her shell.

“Tell me what to do.”

Chadwick expressed his gratitude with a chaste kiss to her knuckles before anchoring his hands on her waist. “I think we should explore each other. Forget what we think we know and take time to reintroduce ourselves intimately. You mind if I…”

His request trailed off with a gesture toward the hem of her dress.

“Sure. Should I stand?” A simple head nod set off the next chain of events as she moved to stand in front of him.

With laser focus, Chadwick carefully lifted her midi tank top dress over her head in his own quest to stand, leaving her nearly nude body exposed to him. She followed his example by helping him out of his t-shirt and jeans.

Hand and mouths began to wander as they took their time with each other. Tasha traced her name on Chadwick’s shoulder blades over and over while he nipped and sucked at the available skin on her neck and chest. His arms held her close to his body as he led them to his side of the bed and carefully placed her on her back against the cool sheets. Normally he would have engaged in a race against time to disrobe and consume his wife, but he was committed to the process of taking his time.

Every inch of skin that he touched, licked and kissed became hot with building anticipation. He started with her lips and worked his way down, visiting his favorite spots along the way. His pit stop at the birthmark above her navel set Tasha on fire as she began to squirm in his grasp.

“You asked me if I still wanted you,” he spoke against her inner thigh, fanning his warm breath against the rising goosebumps in the area. “I want you in every way possible. I’ve had you mentally and emotionally today. Allow me to have you physically tonight.”

“I’m yours.” CoCo was surprised at how her voice came out in a small whisper but felt so loud in the moment.

She was nervous as if this were her first time with any man, much less her husband. Sensing her apprehension, Chadwick whispered for her relax into the meat of her thigh before hooking his index fingers around the top of her panties and working them down her legs.

Neither of them knew what they expected their first intimate moment post “storm” would be like, but it paled in comparison to the events unfolding in front of them.

Chadwick was attentive with his actions, taking time to build up a steady pace and listen to the way Tasha responded with her mouth and body. Breathless gasps turned into little mewls until her moans were loud enough to be heard in the furthest corner of the house.

He soothed her through a quick orgasm before going back for more, purposefully drawing out her second for his pleasure more than hers. It took CoCo physically cupping his face to pull his mouth to hers to bring him up for air and taste herself wherever her mouth landed.

“Are you comfortable with more? I don’t mind-”

“Please. I am begging at this point. I need you.”

“Yeah?” It felt good to hear that his wife, the woman he loved no matter the circumstances, wanted him the way he wanted her. His cheesy grin was matched by Tasha as she nodded and moved to help him discard his last piece of clothing.

Tasha was eager to make room for her man between her legs as they shifted toward the head of the bed. Their lips never parted as they shared the most passionate kiss in recent memory, keeping CoCo relaxed until Chadwick began to join his body with hers.

“Oh,” she panted as he sank deeper into her love. “...God!”

“Am I hurting you?”

“Not at all. Just...go slow.”

Carefully he worked into a pace and rhythm she could handle, joining her chorus of moans with groans and breathless whispers of praise in her ear. Physically, this was the closest they could get and it still didn’t feel close enough.

As the intensity built into a cacophony of sounds of pleasure, Chadwick intertwined their fingers above his wife’s head.

“Look at me,” he requested through gritted teeth. Tasha’s eyes remained closed until he slowed his thrusts to a near stop and asked again. “I need you to look at me.”

She obliged despite the tears blurring her vision, feeling almost unworthy of his doting gaze. What felt like the most intense moment of her lifetime was dialed up several notches as they sought out their releases together. Utterances of undying love became broken moans and audible shudders until husband and wife came with booming shouts that filled the room to the brim.

Sweat and exhaustion couldn’t keep Chadwick and Tasha away from each other as they rushed to kiss each other while the last sparks of euphoria coursed through their bodies.

Tucking his nose into the crook of her neck, Chadwick fought to catch his breath and speak.

“I think you should sleep in here tonight.”

“Can I sleep in here tonight?”

Chadwick lifted his head to nuzzle his nose against Tasha’s as she rubbed patterns at the nape of his neck.

Neither of them had any desire to leave the cocoon of sheets and love around them, so they didn’t.

Because this time good night carried the promise of a good morning.

                                    ______________

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[stunudo]

BAU Prep School AU: Class of 18

Welcome to the Frederick Buchanan Institute located in scenic Quantico, Virginia, a senior high academy that shapes the best and brightest minds. Its motto is “Behavior, Analysis, Unity,” the mascot the Submariners, colloquially “the Unsubs”. The small school supports the most accomplished faculty from across the country. (image link)

2016- 2017  Class of 2018  Previous Chapter: Adjustments

Sidelines

February 14, 2018 4:08pm

The daycare was just North of their place, but it also happened to be the opposite direction of the Institute. JJ had insisted on driving separate since soccer season was coming up and she didn’t want to start a routine to have to adjust it in two weeks’ time. Which left Emily with pick up duty. It was a brisk afternoon, winter lingered, and she made her way in towards the infant pick up desk. Emily hadn’t told JJ, but the staff were always rather short with her. Perhaps because she wasn’t Henry’s biological mom or because she wasn’t a semi-famous athletic model type, either reason she chose to kill them with kindness in return. Let them deal with their own baggage; she had a baby to snuggle into his seat.

It was Valentine’s Day, a milestone that hadn’t escaped her radar, despite having had a rather romantic weekend at home with JJ. This was their first Valentine’s after everything that happened last year, and Emily had a few tricks up her sleeve. Henry would just have to accompany her for the final details.

JJ had been itching to get the field prepped and try out exercises nailed down, but the weather was not cooperating. She ran sprints in the gymnasium, using the bleachers for extra resistance. She was excited about the coming season, knowing her veteran players would be solid leaders for however many new faces made their way onto the roster. She had stayed in her capris, sports bra and over-sized tank top from her eighth period Yoga class. Something she never thought she would be enjoying teaching, reiterating that self-discovery is a never-ending process.

When she had scribbled enough notes on her clipboard and her own stink started to overwhelm her, she headed home. Windows open and music loud, she invited the chilly winter air as she thumped her palms against the steering wheel in time with the drumbeat. Her sweat had frozen in against her forehead by the time she got home, the bags and clothes slung over her shoulders as she stomped up the steps to their home. Emily’s car was already in the driveway, JJ silently begged she had cooked. She was assaulted with heady scents and spices; the kitchen was filled with food. A tired, yet appreciative smile grew on her face as she spotted Henry in his high chair.

“Hey! You’re early!” Emily accused, but smirked as JJ snaked an arm around her waist.

“Pretend I’m not here, I need a shower, but it smells fantastic.” JJ kissed Emily’s cheek before slipping away from her girlfriend at the stovetop.

A half hour later and they were seated at the table with wine in hand and easy smiles. Henry had fallen asleep in his spot between them, but they didn’t want to move him and risk waking him, yet.

“So, you cooked?” JJ raised her eyebrows.

“Yeah, well… Yes, I did the heating, but it was from one of those prep stores.”

“I would have settled for leftovers, Em. Thank you, it was a good idea.”

“We’re going to see each other a lot less soon,” Emily mused. “And since it is Valentine’s Day, we figured we’d surprise you.”

JJ laughed at Emily using Henry as a co-conspirator. Their eyes locked across the table, bright and playful, yet feelings that ran so deeply just below the surface.

“We should clean up,” JJ sighed.

“We should, but not now,” Emily stood, pulling JJ from her seat and walking her upstairs. As soon as their mouths broke apart, she reassured JJ, “I left the baby monitor on, he’s fine, love.”

Monday Feb 19 7:25am

Hotch opened the door to his office to an unexpected visitor, “Good morning, Alex.”

“You’re usually early, Aaron,” she didn’t get up or seem upset. Her large lips full, holding back an immeasurable amount of ammunition. His guard was raised, but she didn’t strike, she sat quietly as he settled in for his morning, sipping her coffee from home. He sat down, her eyebrows were ticking upwards, the impatience no longer masked.

“What brings you by, first thing, Monday morning?” He bit back a smile, knowing she was not amused with his overt friendliness.

“Why did you keep Simmons on staff after Coach Jareau came back?” She came out of left field, but it wasn’t aggressive, it was as if she were a prying psychologist or a detective. The bell rang out across the grounds, the school day at begun, but she had no class this period.

“The Board and I agreed we need to continue to expand our courses, Matt Simmons has a breadth of knowledge that is crucial to building future leaders. Is there a reason his permanence upsets you?” Hotch countered, cool and thorough.

“I was curious, he seemed kind of like a dark horse of a hire in the first place. Not like Luke, stable,” Alex was saying more than the words she used.

“It’s been a while since a new position was created, but that probably wasn’t wise on our parts. Are the students questioning the changes, I know you hear more than they think you do” Hotch asked, genuinely concerned now.

She gave him a half smile, “More than anyone thinks I do.” She sighed, placing her empty cup upright into her bag that leaned against the leg of her chair. “I have not heard any negative comments from students on the changes or on his placement.”

“So, these are personal reservations?” Hotch leaned forward, eyebrows cinched.

“Perhaps.” Alex popped the p’s, face indifferent and calm. They regarded each other, her a vintage beauty with untapped mental capacities and he a golden boy champion of underdogs. The uncertainty in her motivation left him searching, she stood and grabbed her things.

“Staff meeting still three weeks out?”

“Yup, have a good one,” Hotch replied, sitting back in his chair, amused by and questioning her mercurial nature.

Tuesday, March 6, 4:01pm

The fields were hard, and the grass was a dull blanket across the grounds. Their breaths clung to the frigid air, layers insolating, to be discarded the longer their bodies burned. The girls came in every color and shape, their voices distinct on the carrying breeze. He never got tired of watching a pass connect from seeming impossible gaps in space and time, Jareau ran her team with unwavering support and structure. Luke Alvez stood mesmerized, watching girls that usually refused to answer a question aloud dive for the sidelines, charge the defenders and spin around to do it over again, never stopping or backing down. The playing field was an entirely different universe and he was proud to be part of a program that brought out the fighters in the students. The tough-as-nails tenacity that the world would test over and over again, alive and thriving in pure competition.

He wore a fleece zip up and his pair of uniform pants from the boys’ season, he felt naked without shin guards on, but warm. He knew Grant hated how early she insisted on using the pitch, as the seasonal weather hadn’t let him get it up to standard. He smirked at the distressed expression he had been given when he told his boyfriend that he was going down to check out the lady Submariners. It was the cusp of Grant’s busiest stretch of the year, so Luke knew not to linger when Grant would have dinner waiting for them.

Hannah was the clear leader both on and off the field, her midfield position perfect for mediating and observing. They were running passing drills, weaving in and out of each other in twos and threes to help navigate their lanes and ball handling without looking down, too often. He heard more enthusiasm than he thought a bitter afternoon could muster in those usually prim and coiffed teenagers. Cissy helped Maya and another freshman by explaining the drill on the sidelines before their turn in the rotation.

A terse whistle blast sent the group sprinting to the top of the slight hill, Jareau’s voice carrying as they got their rhythm down. Luke shuffled back towards the pathway towards the main buildings and away from the football field. A well aimed ball hit him between his shoulders as he strolled off, he tensed but turned with a big grin.

“Hey, walking here,” he teased, tapping the ball back to Coach Jareau.

“Yeah, like what you see or just miss the action?” she volleyed, juggling the ball as the team continued behind the adults.

“A little of column A, a little of column B. Why?” Luke’s chin jutted out, sensing a reason for her pursuit.

“Can I ask you a favor?” JJ’s eyes melted into hopeful groveling.

“Shoot.” They talked and passed the ball between them as the plans began to solidify. The team bored with the drill started on a new activity without their Coach or teacher noticing. Hannah and Cissy guiding the girls into groups and worked on headers and controlling the ball with other parts of the body.

Friday March 9 3:13pm

Elle answered the phone with a quick apology to the clients in front of her.

“Tell me again, we’re doing the right thing,” Spencer’s voice croaked in a rushed whisper. She smiled into the mouth piece, rolling her eyes gently.

“Spence-,” Elle began, but was quickly cut off.

“No, I know it’s the right thing for us and I like to think it is the right thing for her too, but, ignore me. Only child guilt slipping through, it will pass, and come back eventually in passive aggressive banter and indigestion.” Spencer looked out across his A.P. Physics glass, watching their faces contorted in misery at the equations in front of them. Pencils and erasers rustling against the quiz sheets.

“If you’re having second thoughts, we don’t have to do it this weekend,” She also whispered, not wanting to pressure him, yet slightly worried he would back out of their plans.

“It’s more like five hundredth thoughts, but no, rethinking hasn’t done anything to change my decision. I just seek reassurance because I don’t want to become my father.” Spencer swallowed, trusting Elle like he had no one before.

“None of that. Two different circumstances entirely. I have clients, but I will call you on my way?” Elle gave the people waiting on her an apologetic glance, their half hour appointment slipping away with each minute of her conversation.

“Sounds good, love you.” Spencer hung up the old phone on the wall.

“Back at you.” Elle sighed, bringing up the case file and applications back to the center of her desk.  “Gracias por esperar. Su reunión con el abogado está programada para la próxima semana. Continúa como has estado y tu solicitud se procesará en dos o tres meses.”

The rest of her day was a paperwork and following up for clients’ services. She hurried out of the small office building as the Friday night commuter traffic groaned to a halt on the overhead interchange. Elle sat in her car and dialed Spencer’s new cell phone number.

“I’m going to be late, backroads will be quicker, but I wanted to warn you.”

Spencer paused, checking his watch, though he knew the time from both the phone’s screen and his innate internal clock. “Take your time, we have all weekend to get her settled, I just thought she would like to ease her way in.”

“How are you holding up?” Elle put her keys in the ignition and let the car’s warning bells whistle as she waited to put on her seat belt.

“Better, thanks.”

“And Diana?” Elle followed, listening to his breaths and hesitations as scrutinous as his words.

“She’s watching Jeopardy and laughing, it’s like it doesn’t faze her or she hasn’t realized its happening.”

“Spencer, stop worrying, I’ll be fine.” Diana’s voice jeered from the background, he squinted his eyes, he hadn’t realized she had heard him.

“Maybe you should listen to her,” Elle taunted.

“It will be so much easier when you don’t gang up on me all the time.” Spencer muttered. “Drive safe.”

Elle hung up and got settled, mirrors and belt in place before creeping into the soul-sucking reality of bumper to bumper traffic. Just two more days and she and Spencer would be living alone, the last thing she had hoped for during the past year of recovery. Sometimes miracles do happen.

Mon, March 12, 7:28pm

They really didn’t have much to go over, Hotch just kept talking. He did this sometimes, drawing out the agenda until people’s minds wandered enough to bring up tangential concerns or frustrations. Once the teachers relaxed, he could really gauge how their semester was going. Call it a calculated observation or an interrogation technique, but it worked, nine out of ten attempts.

“Plans for Alumni Association Gala have started, and I think it is going to be quite a surprise for everyone, really,” Penelope offered. “Besides that, I am not really working on much, personally.”

“Let us know what you need and when, Penelope,” Headmaster Hotchner offered, giving her a supportive nod. “Stephen how is everything on the entertainment end of the Gala?”

“Good, yeah, the kids really don’t start their numbers until after Spring Break. But we have a good assortment this year. Should be another fun night.” Stephen’s deep voice replied, “I don’t know about you, but I am just looking forward to the food.”

Everyone laughed, agreeing in various exclamations. “Lord, keep that man from retiring for as long as possible.” Jordan Kyle added, drawing everyone’s attention to a shared look between her and the Band Teacher.

“Uh, you can’t say something like that out of the blue.” JJ tisked.

“I mean, in general,” Jordan tried to down play it. “Look, if anyone is due for retirement around here, it’s me. But that is not happening anytime soon, these kids aren’t getting off that easy.”

Stephen cleared his throat as the speculative stares bounced around the room. “Anyway, the Gala is gonna be lit, as the kids say.”

The moment passed with patchy relief laughter, Hotch making mental notes to follow up with more than a few of his staff for one-on-ones.

March 15th 12:48pm

The muted clacking of fingers on a keyboard wafted through the half-open door. Michel knew that meant she was there and willing to see anyone, especially them, but they lingered just outside of the guidance office during sixth period lunch. There were four unopened letters in Michel’s backpack, from places near and far. Places that meant so much more than D.C. suburb of white bread snobs and politician spawn; places that meant escape. That was why they had waited, because the possibilities were scarier than Michel had imagined. Now that the answers had arrived, decisions would have to be made and the inevitable fork in the road would be taken.

“I can see your blazer, just get in here already,” Penelope snarked. Michel sighed, a soft huff of a laugh burst through their lips as they turned around, dramatically entering with their head held high. Penelope snickered, “Why were you being all creepy out there? On your phone? You know Hotch would snatch it if you took too many selfies in one of his blessed hallways.”

“Selfies need better lighting than this school provides,” Michel replied, falling into their usual spot on the couch of contemplation. “Guess what happens to be torturing me at this very moment. I will give you some hints: Ivy, Beach, Paris and Apple.”

Ms. Garcia’s face twitched with each word, until realization dawned on her contoured features, “You got your acceptance letters?!”

“Well I got letters, I haven’t opened them yet. I have been stalling, but should I?” Michel looked to their dear confidant and inspiration.

“Of course, you should, but don’t you want to do it with your parents, at home?” Penelope gaped, exhilaration getting the better of her composure.

“Nope, don’t need their opinions clouding my mind, thank you very much,” Michel held up a hand as if to block the imagery.

“Well?!”

In a tizzy, Michel tore open all four envelopes without looking at them, eyes scrunched shut until Ms. Garcia came over to take one at a time, like the final puzzle prize envelope on Wheel of Fortune. Four letters, four acceptances, four shredded envelopes littering her office floor.

“I am so proud of you! You can go anywhere! I need pictures, no matter what.” Penelope demanded, holding their sweaty thin hands in hers.

“Of course, oh my gosh, I can’t believe it. Sweet freedom is coming, I can feel it!” Michel stood up, clutching the papers to their chest like a favorite stuffed animal. “I don’t think I am going to ever throw these away, they will be buried with me.”

Penelope stood and hugged Michel, swaying slightly until the bell broke their revelry. In a flurry the letters were tucked back in Michel’s messenger bag and they waved a brisk farewell. Penelope watched wistfully as her favorite student, though she wouldn’t admit it to anyone but Derek or Michel, headed to Emily’s class with a bright future at their feet. She squirmed on the spot as it began to eat away at her. She shuffled over to her desk and dialed Kate’s office on the internal phone lines.

“Kate? Can you be my shoulder because I am kind of having a moment and I don’t want to bug Derek and Hotch will question my professional stability?”

Wed. March 21 4:12pm

Midterms were right around the corner, sending the weekly tutoring sessions into a near panic. Spencer and Derek were fielding questions for a half hour before they got some unexpected help. Sr. Alvez stopped by because he had wanted to see if his students that were hovering at the low end of the grade borderline had taken his advice. They had not, but that didn’t stop one half of the foreign language department from sticking around.

“You guys do this every week?” He asked impressed, yet slightly pitying.

“Uh, yeah, how do you think I manage to have a full roster every season? This is a year-round effort.” Derek explained slyly.

“It’s nice to see you, Luke, though I do wish Simmons would stop by, Korean is not my best language and that’s the biggest concern for half of the new faces this month.” Spencer nodded to the table that was obviously housing everyone but athletes.

“Wait, you speak Korean?” Luke ducked closer to watch Spencer’s eyes spark and eyebrows hitch.

“Barely.”

“And Russian.”

“I read Russian, I haven’t spoken it aloud in four years.”

“Quomodo ergo tu Latine?” Luke bated the science teacher.

“Honestum,” Spencer didn’t miss a beat.

Derek eyed the subtle yet star-eyed soccer coach and the bean pole Brainiac. Suddenly, he somehow felt like a dumb jock in this scenario and he didn’t like it. He decided he was being petty, and walked it off, ducking down to overhear students while he paced the library. He caught the librarian smiling briefly at him behind a shelf, but she was gone before he could even return the gesture. Something weird was going around.

Next Chapter: The Scavenger Hunt

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