#also if anyone sees that quote on my profile I added it a few days before the album came out so it was a complete coincidence

[sophisticatedswifts]

In the wake of ttpd, I keep thinking back to the original cardigan lyrics, particularly “I knew to love would be to lose my mind” because I feel like that, more than anything else, sums up this album

[potteresque-ire]

Here’s my response to @pussyibo, who tagged me on a post about Gg’s Li-Ning brand endorsement. 

First of all, I’d like everyone to please read @accio-victuuri‘s wonderfully written, detailedly researched post on the Li-Ning brand, the Xinjiang cotton support rally on Weibo, and the narrative the state has spun on the issue. I would’ve provided similar information in my response as well—although no way I could’ve laid it out as clearly, as to-the-point as @accio-victuuri did—because this background is critical in explaining my thoughts on this issue.

I haven’t reblogged the Li-Ning ads, but I must confess that the decision had little to do with politics. I’ve always leaned towards re-blogging art than real people.

That said, however, Gg’s Li-Ning ads have, of course, crossed my dash. And I’d be honest and say this as well: I haven’t really found them—or by extension, the idea that Gg was endorsing the brand—offensive, precisely for the reasons @accio-victuuri laid out. Li-Ning is a legend in China; a highly decorated olympic gymnast, he was the national pride chosen to be the final torch-bearer and torch-lighter for the 2008 Beijing Olympics. His company, established in 1990, was among the first Chinese brands with name-recognition overseas and has won high-profile international sponsorships—rare achievements among Chinese-owned enterprises, even to this day. 

Based on Li Ning’s identity and his company being a National Brand, I’d be more surprise if the Li-Ning brand doesn’t use homegrown, “patriotic” cotton, before even considering the practical reasons—Xinjiang cotton being a domestic product that eliminates the costs of shipping, tariffs etc; that it’s of such superior quality that international brands touted its use—a reversal of the usual downplaying of their products’ Chinese origin, due to the common associations of “Made in China”=“Bootleg”,“awful quality”; that makes up ~20% of worldwide cotton production—ie. most Chinese families are probably already using products with cotton from the region (blankets, for example). 

From that perspective, therefore, I’ve viewed the endorsement as little more than a case of a high-profile Chinese celebrity endorsing a high-profile Chinese brand, named after a national hero and targeted towards the local market. I breathed a little sigh of relief for Gg, admittedly—imagine if his new endorsement over those same few days had been for a brand under the Better Cotton Initiative; he would’ve been flayed alive, if the antis’ words were knives.

(And who said they aren’t?)

As such, I also haven’t considered the Li-Ning brand as “morally inferior” to Gg or Dd, or, the other way around, that Gg or Dd are “morally superior” to the Li-Ning brand. I haven’t considered drawing a moral ruler along this axis. I either believe they’re all doing what their sociopolitical environment has taught them, guided them, demanded them to do, or I don’t. Li Ning (the person and the brand), Gg, and Dd all have a celebrity status attached to them. They’ve all flourished in that one sociopolitical environment—that one they also call home.  

Ultimately, Gg and Dd belong to China. They’re the product of the country, its all powerful, all controlling regime. No one can be isolated from their backgrounds—my background colours every word I say here; likewise, there’s no place I can draw a line and separate Gg and Dd from the Communist Red behind them. I wouldn’t have posted about China’s sociopolitical environment, researched on it as a GgDd fan otherwise. 

I either walk away from them all, or I don’t. I either stay a fan, or I don’t. The latter is my choice. Every minute.

Have there been instances in which news about Gg and Dd make me especially uncomfortable? Yes. Photos of Gg in PLA (People’s Liberation Army; Chinese army) uniform for AT, or Dd in police uniform for BAH, for TTXS still give me stomach churns every time I see them. A violent squeeze of the heart.

Visceral reactions that come from, I suppose, the amyglada. More organic, primitive than thought. 

I’ve seen those uniforms in RL action—uniforms worn by those who’re truly responsible for the labor camps and mass surveillance, the torture, the unreported deaths, the disappearances; uniforms Gg and Dd have expressed support outside their drama, their host roles:

Translation: #I support Hong Kong Police too# (On red banner) “I support HK police. You can beat me up now.” What a shame for Hong Kong.

(Dd reblogged the same post originated from People’s Daily, the State-Controlled Newspaper).

I’m going to go on a quick detour and provide the backstory of this red little box, this piece of propaganda that is much more blatant than a clothing ad. I’ll explain why in a bit.

Here’s an article that explained the incident from which the quote was drawn, that occurred on 8/13/2019 during the Hong Kong Protest and the airing of The Untamed. Essentially, a Chinese state media reporter was suspected to be a spy among the protestors after taking photos, refusing to show his press pass (he was found to have one but not his own), and possessing a “I love HK Police” shirt; he was tied to the luggage cart and beaten up. The reporter said the quote in the red little box; he suffered mild injuries and was soon discharged by the hospital.  What was the background of this story, however? Why did the protestors beat up someone who could be from the press—who, regardless of their affiliation, protestors know should be protected? The protests began in June, 2019. Hong Kong had had another large scale protest in between September to November, 2014 (aka the “Umbrella Revolution”). Spies had always been an issue. Why didn’t a spy beating happen earlier?

Here’s an English-subbed documentary (warning: violence) that offers insight of the background—the fear and fury of the protestors. The subject is what is now known as 721 Yuen Long incident, or the evening Hong Kongers—even those who had not been involved, who had been unsure about the protests—lost their trust of the Hong Kong Police, once known as “Asia’s finest”.

That evening went like this. On 7/21/2019, the local mafia violently attacked the passengers of a late night train in Yuen Long station—passengers who weren‘t protestors (who wore black)—while the police ignored the multiple emergency calls from locals who’d spotted something suspicious, and didn’t show up on the scene while the beatings occurred. Evidences, which the documentary detailed, pointed to the Hong Kong Police, and the government that backed it, endorsing the beatings, therefore working with the local mafia to deal with the protests. 

By 8/13/2019, therefore, protestors were convinced that their opposition wasn’t beyond using very low blows to get their way. One could argue that they overreacted to the spy-reporter; the Western media, who had long trusted HKers to know what they were doing, expressed its disappointment, and the protestors soon apologised. The Chinese propaganda machine, of course, jumped at the chance of casting the protestors as bad people, and the online rally on Weibo ensued (It lasted for at least three days; Gg and Dd reblogged post about HK between 8/14/2019-8/16/2019).

That was, briefly, the story behind Gg and Dd’s Weibo reblog.

Why did I make a detour and write up this story? Because I’ve actually posted blatant propaganda on my blog—the Weibo post, with its red little box. However, does it still feel like propaganda with the story?

Therefore, I haven’t, and don’t plan on pressuring anyone to stop posting and re-blogging specific pieces of GgDd information—be it an ad as in this scenario, or propaganda material from films, series, government/state-controlled media announcements etc. That I believe everyone should set their own boundaries, be their own judge of what they’d like to share on their own blog aside, I think—and this is where my opinion may deviate from many—“canceling” falsehoods often isn’t the best way to deal with them. 

This opinion is likely, again, coloured by my background.

My observations have been this: “cancelling” is effective only if the cancelling force is, overall, significantly stronger than the force being cancelled. In the scenario that prompted this post, making Gg’s Li-Ning ads disappear from the dash is only possible if there are more fans who ignore the ads than those who post and reblog them. “Canceling” is therefore a competition of headcount, with tactics for sidekick—the side with more people, and people who are good at disseminating information, decides the outcome: whether the intended-to-be-cancelled material go viral within the fandom, or whether they die out.

I’d like to highlight this word: headcount.

This isn’t the most favourable kind of competition to participate in, therefore, if the potential opposition belongs to the populous country in the world, its members, people who may have participated in fan circles, which are essentially fan armies who’ve been used to organising, battling on social media for their idols. I’ve previously set up a hypothetical scenario, in which Dd’s supertopic members were encouraged by their government to scale the Great Firewall to Twitter, spread their support of Xinjiang cotton—a scenario that is not totally unrealistic, given that the Chinese government has previously mobilised fans for propaganda purpose. 

We’ll use this thought experiment again ~ please bear in mind, once more, that this is SJD; a figment of our imagination.

Since we’re talking about Li-Ning brand, let’s add Gg’s supertopic members to the mix. The total supertopics member count is 6.11 + 8.34 = 14.45 million, as of today (2021/04/04). 

Let’s say, only a tiny, tiny percent—0.01% of them are mobilised; that’s 1,400 people.

Is it possible to cancel the voices, the retweets of 1,400 in Gg and Dd’s i-fandom? Cut down another 90%, reduce the opposition headcount to 140. Is it possible?

There are also overseas Chinese who do not intend to spread propaganda, but believe in the story and have no qualms disseminating the information. There are also fans who wish to remove politics from fandom and pass all information along.

Here lies the frustration of those who’ve tried to raise their voice of concerns re: the policies and practices of the Chinese government on social media; and this is why I mentioned that my background informed my opinion. On social media, where headcount and whoever shouts the loudest, retweet etc the most wins the exposure game, it’s nearly impossible to win against the Chinese Communist Party (CCP)’s propaganda machine, if the party chooses to have the machine running. 

Their side has so many people.

One more RL example: here’s a scholarly article detailing how Diba (帝吧), an old, popular online forum in China with 20 million members, mobilised, collectively scaled the Firewall and engaged in a cyberattack of the Facebook page of Taiwanese President Tsai Ing-Wen on January 20, 2016 — the day of President Tsai Ing-wen’s first inauguration; they left a total of 26,000 comments against Taiwan independence, using Simplified Chinese (which China uses) for their font instead of Traditional Chinese (which Taiwan and Hong Kong uses)—ie, the commenters didn’t even pretend to be not from China. They were proud and open about their "Expedition”.

(China’s state-controlled tabloid Global Times—yes, the same one involved in the Hong Kong airport incident above—”concluded the campaign was a “fun normal incident” that showcased young people’s passion for politics”)

Is it possible to try to cancel something of that scale? Is it realistic?

Personally, therefore, I’ve always advocated for “immunisation”: rather than protecting a fact by wiping out its associated lies—the idea behind “cancelling” a message, not having it show up on the dash—I prefer to do so by allowing it to be visibly challenged, until observers are no longer easily swayed by falsehoods. I used Gg and Dd’s Weibo reblog re: Hong Kong police as an example—is the red little box propaganda, a challenge to the protests? Yes. Is it information that I deeply disagree with, something I wish I’ll never see again? Also yes. But by providing context to it, I’m hoping to turn it into a vaccine—something mimicking the virus, the potentially viral piece of information, but doesn’t function the same way anymore. 

Hopefully, this vaccine will also encourage stop-and-think moments that boost future immunity; hopefully, with a few more boosters, questions will come automatically with such red little boxes reappear— questions about the context, the purpose, the message. 

Questions like these, for this incident: why did the State media make this incident the “Gotcha” moment in the Hong Kong Protests, important enough for People’s Daily to make a rally-starting meme? Why was the reporter, Fu Guohao hailed as a hero, when he’d just got ... beaten up? 

What did People’s Daily, and the government behind it, want people to find when the red little box popped up everywhere on Weibo, including the Weibo of the fastest rising stars from the hit summer TV series? What belief could be expected to be instilled into the audience with this photo, published by China’s state TV station (CGTN), of the reporter tied up to a luggage cart and surrounded by black-cladded protestors?

Who looked like the strong, evil side? The meek, good side? Why, finally, was the tag about the Hong Kong Police, when the conflict was between the protestors and an alleged Chinese state media reporter?

By then, Hong Kongers were already suspicious that the Hong Kong Police had been infiltrated by China’s law enforcement arm, from hints from the different dialects the police used, how they handled the protestors etc. It was the start the final break down of Hong Kong’s autonomy. Their suspicions were not wrong. Now, with the National Security Law having taken effect since July 2020, Hong Kong’s transformation into a police state is well under way.

What does the tag #I support Hong Kong Police too# mean now?

[Please excuse my using many examples from HK because 1) I’m familiar with the details; and 2) it’s the only instance in recent history in which the outside world can see, with relative clarity, a large-scale protest against the Chinese government and its outcome.]

Here’s my humble wish: next time, when a government-sponsored memes like this get translated and posted, be it originally reblogged by Gg, Dd, or other c-ent stars, be it on Twitter or Tumblr, the vaccinated, immunised will pause and wonder: What’s the story? What’s being told inside the Great Firewall, and outside? 

If this happens, red little boxes on my blog, unpleasant as they are, are 100% worth it.

The Li-Ning ads are therefore worth it too, IMO, if they spark a conversation, a dissemination of facts and perspectives. To me, the latter is especially precious in this fandom, where significant language and cultural barriers exist.  Fans who move Gg and Dd’s news and candies from Weibo are the pillars of this fandom. Sieving through that website is hard, translations harder; it’s unfair and unrealistic to ask them to also be the background knowledge deliverers. 

I’ve tried to do a small part, but I’m ... slow. Very, very slow. However, even if the background isn’t available, I’ve found being careful, skeptical about the information is already a very good thing. At heart, this is no different from the lessons from media literacy here, except there are even more falsehoods and half-truths to wade through given the country of origin of Gg and Dd’s material, and trustworthy sources are not always available. Li-Ning brand is an example that things do not need to be blatant propaganda to carry a pro-CCP message. 

What can i-fans do then about the Xinjiang cotton situation, if competing against the Chinese government propaganda machine on social media appears to be a losing game?

My thoughts are these, at the moment. First, please consider not dwelling on the competition, especially within fandom. Remember: getting several fewer fans to buy Li-Ning brand isn’t going to change the big picture.

Instead, if this is an area of activism you choose to participate in—please consider channeling your effort to watching the companies in your country. Put pressure on sustainability & good practice certification companies like Better Cotton Initiative, make sure they don’t, can’t have it both ways. Xinjiang cotton is either certified or it isn’t. There’re suspicions of forced labor on its production or there aren’t. The answer should be a simple yes or no, not whether the office is in Geneva or in Shanghai.

This is an answer that we, as consumers, have the right to know. Transparency in China isn’t for us to demand; we can, however, demand transparency in our own country. Remember too: it makes a far, far greater difference for one international company to re-consider its cotton source, than for one fandom to do the same. 

Meanwhile, and again, this is my humble opinion—please do whatever you’re comfortable with, that is within your ability, to fortify your stance. Should you choose to speak out online, you’ll likely meet opposition. Responses on current events from the Chinese Foreign Ministry (you can also find the spokespeople on Twitter) can offer a glimpse of the counterarguments you may meet. How will you answer them? Here’s a clip of one of the spokespeople arguing that the US used to use black slavery to pick cotton in the past. If you’re American and this is presented to you—what would you say? (Does mistakes by one country in the past mean mistakes by another country in the present is automatically acceptable?) The opposition may also use vicious words, the most extreme of which is probably “racist”. If someone call you racist—if many Twitter users scream racist!!!!!!!! at you at the same time for your critique—can you stand firm? 

[The pro-CCP camp has been taking advantage of the West’s effort to move forward from its racist past to stop any criticism of the Chinese government. It already knows the easiest way to silence the criticisms is to call whoever makes them racist.]

[If everyone fears the racist allegation, allows the conflation of Chinese government and Chinese people to take root, will there be more or less anti-Asian sentiments in the long run?]

[I’ve been called racist by writing these metas.] 

The last thing I’d like to say is this: please be kind to your fellow fans who’ve kept mum, or been hesitant about making their stance known. Some may be closely connected to China, others may not be in a psychological / health space to deal with the politics. Also, and here’s my default way of looking at this: I disagree with the idea that anyone owes anyone else a declaration of their political beliefs. I can’t imagine this issue to be an easy thing to think about for many Gg and Dd fans, myself most definitely included ~ as a (former) Hong Konger, a uniformed Gg or Dd gives me an unpleasant visceral response, but at the same time, it also means I’m used to accepting, even genuinely liking people on the other side of this political ... Grand Canyon. I can imagine the conflict, the pain this issue may have caused some fans who’re not accustomed to the latter, as being a fan, IMO, is never purely logical ~ and I mean that in the best of ways. 

Passion is the magic ingredient that separates a fan and a consumer. It’s also what makes choices difficult, when conclusions from logic, political stance included, conflict with it. Some make the hard choices quickly; some, slowly. Some make them in one go; some, piece by piece. Some never make them, let time be the decision maker.

As Dd said so famously and wisely, about the conflict between passion and logic: 愛就是這樣，沒有辦法 Love is like that. Nothing can be done.

The only common denominator is this: we’re all made to love.

❤️.💛.💚.

[softhxtch]

TITTLE: FBI Charity Blind Date Night SUMMARY: For last four years FBI has been organizing a lot of events for charities. One of them are blind dates. This year Emily, Penelope and Derek decided to join in with Hotch’s name. Let’s just say, that at first he’s not the happiest person in the world.  PAIRING: female! reader x Aaron Hotchner CHARACTERS: reader, Aaron Hotchner, Emily Prentiss, Derek Morgan and Penelope Garcia (at the beginning), Angela, Olivia (OCs), Daivd Rossi and Spencer Reid (literally mentioned once) WARNINGS: none (?), it’s just fluff and cuteness, I mean they go to the hospital, nothing bad happens, but be aware of errors and mistakes. ALSO in this story Jack is not born, not sure why just thought it would fit better. ALSO2: CAC - Crimes Against Children Unit WORD COUNT: 4,5K A/N: i’ve had a long break from writing and with this new year I decided to break it. there’re probably a lot of mistakes, so feel free to correct me. english is not my first language and i’m doing this just for fun!

'Did you send everything correctly? Are you sure?', Emily asked looking over Penelope's shoulder. She tried to keep up with whatever blonde woman was doing, but it was hard since she was moving so fast with her work.

'Yes! Who do you think I am?', Penelope answered with raised voice. Her head was shaking but eyes still glued to the screen. 'Can't you just trust me?'

'I do, we all do. But don't you think it's weird, that we still didn't get anything from-', Emily argued, but didn't even finish the sentence as her work phone started to make sound. She quickly picked it up with short 'hello' and was listening to whoever was on the other side. Her face was slowly changing as more and more words were going through the phone. Emily's eyebrows were risen and eyes bigger, scanning the room around her. Finally she nodded quickly and after adding short 'of course', she put the phone down. 'Hotch wants to see us.', Emily explained.

'Oh god.', was all Penelope could say. She stood up quickly, putting her laptop down on Emily's desk. 'I guess he got the message. Today's the day we die.', she added as dark haired woman also stood up, nodding

'Come on, Derek. You're going with us.', Emily pointed at him, raising her eyebrow.

'Me? I didn't even do anything!', man defended himself.

'It's all your fault anyway. You came up with the idea. Come on.', she added.

'Fine, but to be fair it's our idea. You're as much in it as I am. Just so we're clear.', Derek pointed out, as Emily rolled her eyes. 'Let's go.'

Derek's words were like a signal, because after that all three of them moved towards the Chief's office. They knew it was coming sooner or later. They would be called to see Hotch, he probably would be angry at what have they done, maybe furious and that's it. Maybe they would get more paper work to do. But it was unavoidable, Hotch would find out sooner or later. And some like Derek would prefer it to be sooner, but some like Emily or Penelope - later.

Derek was the one to lead the way to Agent Hotchner's office, with two women right behind him. He knocked two times one the door and opened them after hearing 'come in' from inside. Aaron was sitting in his chair, focused on papers in front of him. Pen in one hand, tracing text that for most people was really hard to understand.

All three agents looked around just to see any signs, that they could help. They paid a lot of attention to the big desk with a lot of papers on it, but everything was the same. Nothing too suspicious, but then in front of there were three chairs. Not one or two as usual. Like especially for them.

'Everything's okay?', Penelope was the first one to break the silence.

'Yes.', Aaron’s answer was short as he looked up from his papers with a raised brow. 'Is there a reason why something's should not be okay?'

'No. Of course no, sir.', blonde woman laughed as all three of them walked more inside the room.

'You wanted to see us?', Emily asked, her voice was quieter than usual.

'Did I?', Aaron answered back with an questions, putting his pen down. All three of the agents looked at each other with confused faces.

'Emily said-'

'What exactly did Emily said?', he asked. Aaron tilted his head, waiting for an answer. His face was stoic and stern as usual, very hard to read for any of them.

'Emily said you wanted to see us.', Derek answered. His eyebrows were furrowed, with thousands thoughts going through his mind per second. He was very much present when dark haired woman got the phone call, but all of the sudden he wasn't sure about it anymore. Maybe she heard something different? Or mixed up his words?

Hotch just nodded slowly. He moved his eyes from Derek to Emily, who was confused with this whole situation. She knew what he said, but just to be one hundred percent sure she went through the short conversation they had, like fifty more times.

'You said, and I quote, 'I want to see you in my office as fast as you can'.', Emily said slowly, her hands in front. It's like she was trying to calm herself down from this confusing situation.

'Exactly. I didn't specify who 'you' is.', man sitting in the chair said, like it was the most obvious thing on the world.

'Oh my God.', Penelope said, waving hands in front of her face as if she was trying to stop the tears. You could visibly see Emily's shoulders going down, her letting out breath she was holding for a long time. Derek just let out quiet laugh and shook his head.

'But since all three of you came here, then I guess something's happened.', he added, putting his hands together on top of the desk. 'You did something, that you know you shouldn't do and now you're just waiting for the consequences. That's why all three of you came here together.'

'I thought we weren't suppose to profile each other.', Derek said.

'Yes, especially when not everyone in the room is a profiler.', Penelope added with a firm nod.

'Garcia, you don't need to be a profiler to see all three of you having weird conversations, barely working in the office and basically being constantly out of place.'

'We didn't do anything wrong.', Derek said, pointing at all three of agents.

'Okay.', Aaron said quickly nodding. 'But next time when you put name that isn’t yours somewhere, you make that person is aware that you're doing this. And they give you their consent.'

'We didn't put anyone's name anywhere', Emily finally said something after, what felt like, hours of standing in their boss's office.

'Agent Hotchner, we write to thank you for joining our 4th annual FBI Charity Blind Date Night. Don't worry we'll make sure to choose precisely your date, just they way you put it in our questionnaire. Thank you so much and see you in February!', man read the email he got few hours ago.

‘You don’t have any proof, that it’s us, sir.’, Penelope said, her voice cracking at the end. Derek just sighed and closed his eyes, knowing how screwed up they are. ‘Anyone could do this!’

‘True, but you three are on the first place.’, he said like it was something obvious. The rest just looked a bit confused how they were first suspects, which made older man sigh. ‘The next one was Rossi, but he’s been out of town for the last few days. In the past he tried to set me up for few dates, but I don’t think he would do it through blind date, that you have to do questionnaire before. Who’s next?’, he asked, making his thinking face for a second, before continuing. ‘JJ? She has her own life and two kids to take care of. I don’t think she would have time to play with something like this. Oh and on top of that, she doesn’t put herself in someone else’s business. The last one is Reid and we all know, that he didn’t do it.’

‘But you have no proof, that all of us did it.’, Penelope started. Her hands were shaking and she started rambling, not knowing how to get out of that situation. 

When Derek and Emily came to her with this whole idea of putting their boss in a blind date she didn’t know what to think about it. She thought that maybe it was a good thing. After divorcing Haley and breaking up with Beth, Hotch didn’t do much dating, or at least that they knew about. And Penelope thought that someone like Aaron Hotchner deserves to be happy. He deserves to laugh with someone who he likes and is not necessarily in a team or a friend of his. She wanted him to have a person, who would be with him in tough times and would take care of him when he needed it. Hotch is a tough person, but Penelope Garcia strongly believed, that there’s a person in this world who would understand him. He just needed to start looking and if she could help, she would do it. 

Of course there’s also a lot of guilt, because whether she liked it or not, she was messing with his boss’s personal life. And how would they even tell Hotch about the fact, that they put him into FBI blind date. Penelope knew he would be furious and angry. So this kind of reaction was weird for her. Hotch wasn’t screaming, showing any anger. Nothing. Maybe a little annoyed, but that’s it.

‘Penelope.’, Derek started, trying to make her stop. She was only making it worse, by digging the topic. 

‘You can be mad at us all you want, but a date would be a good thing for you.’, Emily started, making Hotch raise his eyebrows. Derek just groaned in the back, wishing for it to be over. ‘You know, sometimes it’s good to get out of your comfort zone.’

‘My comfort zone?’, he repeated.

‘Yes.’, dark haired girl answered. She put her hands together in front of her, not knowing where she’s exactly going with this conversation. ‘You have to go out sometimes, Hotch. Have conversation with someone, that’s not us. Have a meal, that wasn’t pre made months ago, drink wine and make jokes. And maybe, just maybe, you’ll meet someone wonderful.’, she ended, going closer and closer to the man as she was going on with her speech.

‘I’m not in a mood for a relationship, Prentiss.’, Aaron shook his head, putting some papers together on his desk.

‘That’s why we put you on a ‘friendship list’. It means, that you’re there as a friend and for chairty, not really looking for a lover.’, Penelope said quickly, stepping forward towards Emily. 

‘The answer is still ‘no’, so please cancel my application.’, he shook his head, looking at the papers in his hands. When he hear any movements or complaint  from the three agents in the room, he looked at them again. ‘I will pay the charity in return. And I guess you had to put some money into it too, so I will pay it off. But please withdraw my name from the list.’

‘But sir.’, Penelope started again, bringing his attention. ‘Maybe you should consider what Emily’s said. You know, new experiences.’, she added with nervous laugh.

‘So what’s the bet about?’, Hotch asked, leaning back with curious face. 

‘If you go Rossi said, that he’ll do our reports for a month.’, Emily said after few seconds of debating if she should actually say anything else.

‘And if I don’t?’

‘We have to do this for a year.’, Derek admitted.

‘Please, Hotch.’, Emily begged, coming closer to his desk and leaning on it. She looked into his eyes for few seconds, trying to get some mercy from him. ‘I’m still half way through Reid’s reports from last month. I can’t lose this one!’

‘Well, you should’ve thought about this before going into another bet.’, Aaron answered, trying to keep his stern face, but Derek saw one side of his lips rising for a split of a second. ‘Now like I said, withdraw my name from that list and please go back to work. All of you. You can go and please close the door.’, he added. After finishing the sentence he went back to his paper, waiting for them to leave and when they did, he just couldn’t stop himself from small smile. 

'I thought you wanted to go.', Angela said as we entered my office. She had one of the flyers of the charity events that she took from the entrance to the FBI building.

'Yeah, I did. But half of kids at the kindergarden are sick, I have a feeling, that Olivia is next.', you said, putting bag on the desk. You turn around to your friend and gave her apologetic smile. 'And I don’t wanna leave my sick child with my sister-in-law. She already helps me enough.'

'I'm sorry.', Angela just said, not knowing how to actually react. 'I know, that after last year you wanted to go.'

'Yeah, it sounded pretty fun.', you nodded. 'Plus it would be nice to finally get a kiss on the lips. Or talk to someone in full sentences.'

'Excuse me?', Angela joked, pointing at herself.

'Outside of this office.', you shook head, letting out quick chuckle.

'Someday you'll find someone. I'll make sure of this.', she said, coming closer to you. She stopped for a second and gave you quick hug, trying to make you feel better.

'It'll be kind of hard. Usually when they find out, that I have three year old child, they run. If they don't, then they get scared when I tell them I work for the FBI. And when I go on a date with agent they usually do this, because I'm a Unit Chief and have connections with a lot of important people here.', you explained with a sigh. 'I was excited for this blind date not only for meeting new people, but also because we will be on the same position. I won't be used and person who will be choosen for me would understand where I come from.'

'I know.', she said truthfully, caressing your shoulders. 'You know what? Screw it. I'll take care of Olivia.'

'Really?', you said shocked about the proposition. You knew, that Angela was the last person on earth who would offer herself to take care of kids. It's not like she hated them, just she's not the best with them. Mainly the youngest ones. But kids found their ways to her. Especially Olivia. She always loved being next to Angela and you could be sure, that she would be happy to have her as a babysitter for few hours.

'But it's just this one time.', Angela reminded, putting one of her fingers in front of your face. You immediately agreed and hugged her as a thank you.

'So? How do I look?', you asked after walking to the kitchen. You looked at both Angela and your daughter sitting at the dinning table, consuming their supper. Your friend made circles with her fingers, asking you to turn around so she could see the back of the dress.

When the email with the set up date finally came, you were the most excited since you could even remember. It was something you looked forward to for days or maybe even weeks now. Nobody in your team didn't know about this, except Angela. And she also was very excited for you. Whenever you had breaks from cases, she would come with new ideas for a dress or make up. And even though she'd be brushed off, you actually liked it.

For a long time you had no idea what to wear. Should it be something less formal? Or full on glam outfit? But when Angela came to you with a picture of navy bodycon dress, you knew it's the one. She advised you to wear it with simple black sandals and light make up, adding darker lipstick.

'Mommy! You're so pretty!', Olivia exclaimed from her chair. She still had her mouth full from the sandwich, that you made her few minutes ago. You could see her be really excited about this night, not because you're going out, but mainly that she's gonna be playing with Angela.

'Thank you, sweetheart.', you skilled, coming closer to them. 'I'm gonna be out for few hours and you're gonna be with aunt Angela, okay?', you explained, playing with her hair. Little girl nodded, taking another bite of her sandwich. Then you stood up facing your friend. 'Okay I should be back before midnight. If I don't call you and I'm not home, then you can track my car or phone.'

'Of course, as always.', she said with a wink, which made you laugh.

'And remember, if anything happens - call me. You've been in this house so many times, so you know where everything is. But if you're unsure or Olivia does something, call me okay?', you said, raising a brow.

'Hey! Don't use your 'I'm your boss' voice!', she said, putting finger in front of your face, which made you laugh.

'That's actually my 'mom' voice.', you shook your head.

‘Doesn’t matter. Just go before you’re late.’, she said, pushing you out of the room. ‘Remember it’s really bad to be late for a date, but it’s just awful to be late on a date with FBI agent.’

Aaron was sitting in one of three restaurants, that bureau offered to cover the expenses in. He told Penelope and Emily many times to pick the table somewhere in the corner, where he and the person who was a match to him wouldn’t be in a center of attention. It was a really long time since he went on a actual date or even out with someone, that’s not on his team. For a really long time he hated this whole idea. But the one night he was sitting in his flat with a glass of whiskey and thought, that maybe, but just maybe, it’s a good idea. That maybe Emily was right?

‘I’m really sorry, I’m late.’, female voice took Aaron out of his thoughts. He looked up, expected to see someone familiar, but that wasn’t the case. He thought, that maybe it would be someone that he knew. It definitely would be easier, than starting from zero.

But even if Aaron didn’t know personally the person he’s meeting, maybe he could just recognize the face? Place it with unit, that they’re working in or at least department. But as you appeared it didn’t ring any bell. Aaron furrowed his eyebrows, which made you immediately confused and started looking around. 

‘You’re from FBI, correct?’, you asked, pointing at him and then at the back, getting more and more nervous. ‘The woman in front told me to go to table number eight. And that’s it, but maybe I said something wrong and she didn’t understand-’

‘I am.’, Aaron said immediately, standing up from his seat. ‘I was just expecting someone-’

‘Different?’, you asked, smiling a bit.

‘No, no!’, he answered right away with his hands in front, like he was trying to stop you from something. ‘Someone, that I know.’, he ended, explaining. 

‘Oh, of course.’, you nodded. ‘I’m Y/N Y/L/N.’, you extended your hand with greeting, after what seemed like liftime in silence.

‘Aaron Hotchner.’, he answered, shaking your hand gently. Then he motioned to the table. You just nodded as both of you sat down. ‘Which department are you from? Sorry to be put it so bluntly, I just don’t think I’ve ever met you in the bureau.’

‘CAC.’, you answered, looking up from the menu. ‘I came here from New York few months ago. Got offered Unit Chief position, better salary - guess didn’t have to think through it twice.’, you shrugged.

‘That explains a lot.’, Aaron said with small nods. You just raised a brown, silently asking the same thing he did few seconds ago. ‘I’m from BAU.’

‘Oh ‘The Dream’ unit.’, you said. The statement made Aaron very much confused. ‘When I arrived in Quantico, there were actually quite a lot of changes and I had to hire new agent to my team. And about half of them started the interview with  ‘well my dream is to be in BAU, but this unit could be a good start’.’, you explained.

‘I’m sorry.’

‘It’s not your fault. More of a complement. It’s very rare, that most of agents, that want to work in a field also want to work in your team. And I’ve also heard only good stuff about BAU.’, you said, trying to keep the conversation light. 

In fact this was the last time your conversation went to the topic of work. As soon as some of the comments, that either one made, were about work, you immediately would change the topic. You promised yourself, and Angela of course, that today won’t be about work. It’ll be about having fun and going out with not-so-stranger. 

Aaron saw the effort that you made and he actually really liked it. No work, no phones, no cases, no murders. Just the two of you, great food and wine, that he didn’t even drink yet. He didn’t expect it but he was actually having a good time. So this one time he would answer his previous question: Emily Prentiss was, in fact, right.

‘Excuse me for a second.’, you said, hearing vibrations of your phone from the bad. Aaron just nodded, understanding as you opened bag and looked for phone. When it was found, you immediately opened it and panicked right away.

3 missed calls

2 unread messages

9:39 I know I was supposed to call only when there’s an emergency, but I think it is. 

10:21 We’re going to ER.

‘Everything’s okay?’, Aaron asked, observing very closely your reactions. 

‘I-I have to go.’, you said stuttering. You picked your bag and coat, wanting to leave as fast as you can. ‘I’m really sorry.’

‘What happened?’, he stood up quickly. He grabbed you by the arm, stopping from leaving the room.

'My daughter is in a hospital. And my friend, that's babysitting her won't tell me what happened.', right away the worst scenarios came to your head. What's could actually happen, that the two of them had to go to the emergency room? Did she broke a bone? Or just hit herself and needed few stitches? Or maybe she fell down the stairs and is unconscious? The questions, that were driving you crazy.

'Let's go.', Aaron just nodded and took you out of the restaurant, after paying for the whole meal.

'Wait, no. I can't ask you to come with me. I've already ruined your evening.', you shook your head as Aaron was taking you to his car.

'Don't worry about it. We can do it on a different day.', he waved you off, getting into his car. The comment caught you off guard a little. And you didn't even realize, that you were still standing on the streets until Aaron knocked on the window, getting your attention.

'Sorry.', you whispered, getting inside. He just started the engine and drove as fast as he could to the hospital that Angela land Olivia were at. 'Wait. Different day? We'll meet on a different day?', you asked, thinking about the whole conversation from few minutes ago. He laughed at how at first you didn't realize what he meant.

'If you want of course.', Aaron explained, getting slow nod from you. It was still funny for him how long it took you to get through it all. 'Look, I'm not a parent, but I can just assume, that your daughter comes first for you.'

'True.', you agreed.

'So, I could make huge scene about how you literally stormed out of our date.', he continued to explain his thoughts. 'Or just understand where you come from and help you.'

'Thank you.', you said, looking at him for the first time since you walked inside the car.

'No problem.', he said with a smile.

If it wasn’t for Aaron, you would probably be panicked, running around the hospital. Well, you still were panicked and scared of what exactly happened, but he made you a bit calmer. Told you to step back and he was asking all questions of where to go and what happened.

After twenty minutes the two of you ended up of third floor. Your heart was beating so fast, searching for either Angela or Olivia, but you couldn’t see them anywhere.

‘Y/N, you have to calm down. It won’t help-’, Aaron started, grabbing your arm. You stopped, but didn’t look at him, only scanning the room. And then you saw it. Familiar dark hair and the handbag you bought her for Christmas. 

‘Angela!’, you called her name, bringing the attention. Woman turned around and let out deep breath, being visibly relieved.

‘Oh my God!. You’re finally here. I didn’t know how long I could keep her attention. She was constantly asking for you.’, Angela said. Then she looked behind you, seeing Aaron running after you. ‘Sorry for ruining the night.’, she whispered. 

‘It’s okay.’, you shook your head. ‘What even happened? I leave you for few hours and you end up in hospital.’

‘We just were having fun.’, she explained and you just raised a brow. ‘Okay, we were playing tag. And then Olivia got tired, so we sat down on your bed. Then obviously she wasn’t tired anymore and started jumping up and down on your bed. And she asked me to join her, so I did. And then it broke.’, she started talking very fast and chaotic.

‘You broke my bed?’, you asked as if that was the only thing you could make out of whatever she said. 

‘But I didn’t mean it. I tried really hard.’

‘And where’s Olivia now?’, you asked, trying not to get angry.

‘They took her to a cat scan. Doctor said, that her arm is probably broken.’, Angela explained, seeing you get more and more annoyed. ‘Anyway, nurses asked for legal guardian or parent, so I’m gonna go and tell her, that you’re here.’

You nodded and let her go. Your eyes were closed and head hanged down for few seconds. Were you angry? Yes. Were you annoyed? Yes. But your daughter was fine. She was alive and even though having a toddler with broken arm won’t be fun thing, you’d take it. 

‘Again I’m sorry.’, you turned around to Aaron. He was still standing behind you, just watching the whole situation. ‘I won’t hold you up anymore, you can go. Thank you for everything.’

‘It’s not a problem for me to stay. If you-’, he said, coming closer to you.

‘You’ve done a lot for me today. Beside we have work tomorrow. So let it just be one of us who’s gonna stay up all night.’, you cut him. Aaron just nodded, understanding everything.

‘So, until next time?’, he asked, slowly taking few steps back.

‘That would be amazing.’, you answered. But then realized something. ‘Hey, but I don’t have-’, you started and put hands in coat pockets. Then felt something in one of them. You took it out and made on ‘oh’ sound as you read: Aaron Hotchner, Federal Bureau of Investigation, Behavioral Analysis Unit with phone number. You looked up to look at him one last time. Aaron just shot you a huge small and waved before turning around and going to the elevators. 

[ramblingthoughtsofayoungadult]

Nev, Max, Help!-Nate Jacobs Oneshot

Requested: Yes

Warnings: aggressiveness and rudeness from Nate and a brief panic attack scene

A/N: The reader is gender neutral since the requester did not specify what they wanted and I did not want to disrespect the storyline from the show. Also, it’s a long one. 

  For once, Amy Winehouse’s low, melancholy voice did nothing to soothe my nerves as I typed what I was looking for in the designated box. “Love is a Losing Game” was definitely not the best song for the mood but I loved her voice so much; it was like a really messed up security blanket for me. My thumbs shook as I kept typing and quickly deleting my words. 

  Someone to have fun with.

  No, that’ll bring every single creep to my profile.

  Someone to watch Netflix with.

  Ew, no, they won’t want to go anywhere or do anything. 

  Someone to discuss Maya Angelou with...

  This could go one of two ways: attract a sensitive, nice person or the ultimate softboi who was really just an f-boy in a sensible cardigan.

    Okay, Y/N, just add to it.

   ...and have adventures, great conversations, and watch the best movies.

   That seemed broad enough and, potentially, weeded out all the weirdos. Patti Stanger would approve of this. I took such a deep breath that I could feel the oxygen in my feet as I pressed the green check mark. An adorable buffering sign appeared before being quickly replaced by a CONGRATULATIONS, Y/N/N, ON COMPLETING YOUR PROFILE. 

   The air came out of me slowly, like a balloon, and I tried to make myself relax as I swiped through different matches. One person was too short, the other too tall, another had way too many pictures with reptiles in his profile, and one’s bio simply read: DM and you’ll find out. 

  Serial killer much?

  “That’s part of your problem, Y/N,” Jules had chastised me a few day prior.

 “What do you mean by ‘part’?” I’d replied.

 “Well, for one, you barely leave the house anymore unless I drag you out,” Jules argued.

  “I’m busy,” I’d defended. 

  “Rewatching Breaking Bad for the eighth time does not count as being busy. Plus, you’re so picky.”

  “Am not!” 

  “You said you’d only do DiCaprio in his Great Gatsby days,” Rue had added.

  “Did you see him in that suit?” 

  Jules then shrugged. “All I’m saying is if you aren’t careful, you will end up all alone.”

  “That’s not true, Y/N might get cats.” 

  That conversation had haunted me since and had driven me to making a dating profile after the required Saturday night family dinner. While my parents and brother were downstairs watching a movie, I was holed up in my room, cringing and regretting accepting any chat requests. 

   Half an hour on the app caused the images of various male genitalia to be burned into my mind. I would need my brain soaked in holy water for it to be erased. I huffed and kept scrolling, vainly hoping and wishing for a decent guy to pop up on my radar.

  Maybe Jules and Rue were wrong. Maybe I had all the right in the world to be picky, I thought harshly to myself. 

  I dropped my phone on my nightstand and flopped against my pillows as Me and Mr. Jones began playing. I sighed and felt myself being lulled into the comforting abyss Amy created. 

   Ding!

   I jumped out and glared at the source of the noise. Another chat request, another picture to ruin my young brain? 

  “Be positive, Y/N, this might be good,” I stated as I grabbed the phone. 

  Tyler wants to chat!

   I frowned and opened up the app, only to be met with the most sculpted six-pack I had ever seen. My heart began banging against my chest and my thumbs fumbled for a moment to answer the chat request. 

  Whoosh. 

  My stomach dropped as I stared at my first chat to Tyler: Shg.ismtle

  I’m. Going. To. Die. Alone.

  I quickly typed: Please ignore that, I’m so sorry!

  Seconds later, my phone dinged.

  Tyler: Really? I thought you were trying to send me a secret code and I liked that we were that cool already.

  This was not real, this could not be happening. Tyler had to be a bot, that was why he didn’t show his face in his profile. Bots were supposed to have a hard time recognizing and creating faces, right? 

   But, on the off chance Tyler was real, it would have been rude to leave the conversation so abruptly? 

   Y/N: Who knows? Maybe it was a secret code and I’m just testing you.

   Tyler: Ok, let me guess what it means.

   Tyler: Hi? 

   Y/N: Haha, you really thought I’d use such a simple code as a first message?

   Tyler: It’s my bad for underestimating u. I should have known u were smarter since you read Maya Angelou.

  Y/N: U a fan? 

  Tyler: “You can’t use up creativity. The more you use, the more you have.” 

  He knows Angelou? He could have Googled a quote though. Still, it’s a good quote to use if he had Googled it.

   Y/N: Nice, but, doesn’t get u out of the guessing game.

   As Tyler helplessly guessed wrong for several minutes, I couldn’t stop myself from smiling. I used to think online dating was a last resort or a breeding ground for predators. But, maybe there were decent people looking for something (or someone) meaningful after all. 

  Tyler: I give up, you’re really good. 

  Y/N: Thx. But, I can tell you what I meant to say. 

  Tyler: The suspense is srsly kiilling me. 

  Y/N: I meant 2 say hey.

  Tyler: I guessed that!

   Y/N: No, u guessed ‘hi’, there’s a difference.

  Tyler: C’mon, barely.

   For the rest of the night, Tyler and I chatted. He told me that he plays baseball at a school across town and he doesn’t like anyone around there. He liked John Mulaney stand-up, lemon bars, going to the gym, hanging out with his friends, and reading good books. He was an only child and his parents tended to spoil him. I told him about my friends and how I liked being on the swim team at my school as well as the different YouTubers and books I enjoyed. When I finally fell asleep, I dreamed of talking to him. 

   On Monday, Jules and Rue were hanging out outside the school as other people either headed to class or relaxed on the lawn. I could not stop my feet from bouncing as I walked up to them.

   “...and that is why Sailor Mercury is the most underrated character of the whole show,” Jules affrimed. 

   Rue seemed halfway interested as her head nodded slowly underneath the hood of her burgundy hoodie. “Cool, all I asked was who’s your favorite but, cool.” 

   Jules rolled her eyes playfully and straightened up when she saw me. “Hey, Y/N, nice shirt.” 

  “Thanks.” I wore a sky blue tie dye shirt with ripped jeans and white Converse.

  Rue leaned forward and squinted at me. “You’re not wearing black, something’s wrong.” 

  “Nothing’s wrong, she’s obviously been influenced by me!” Jules teased as she wrapped a slim arm around my shoulders.

  “Yeah, you can only hang out with this literal rainbow human so long before she starts influencing your outfit choices.”

  We started heading inside, which was really just Jules and me dragging Rue into the building.

   “But I don’t wanna be here. It’s so stupid that I have to wait six more months before I can legally decide where I spend my time,” Rue muttered.

  “It’s fine, you have us!” Jules insisted.

   “Yup!” I agreed.

  “Hey, Y/N, Rue, Jules!” Cassie greeted as she sidled up next to me. 

  We all greeted her.

  “Have a good weekend?” Rue asked. 

  “Yeah, there was this great party that Nick Davis threw. I swear, everyone there was on acid.” Cassie stopped herself and bit her bottom lip. “Sorry---” 

   Rue shook her head. “It’s fine.”

  “How were yours?” Cassie asked as we continued to our lockers. 

  “Fine,” Jules said.

  Rue shrugged in response.

  I opened my mouth to reply when my phone beeped and I wrestled it out of my pocket. 

  Tyler: Is it 2 late 4 a good morning text? 

  I smiled. 

  “You’re so cheesy,” I muttered under my breath. 

  “Who’s that?” Cassie asked, peeking over my shoulder.

   I jumped and cradled my phone to my chest like it was my child. “No one.” 

   Jules pulled open her locker and cocked a bleached eyebrow. “‘No one’ does not cause huge smiles like that!” She jabbed a sparkly-manicured finger at me. 

  “Yeah, show us,” Rue said. “We are your friends.” 

  “It’s nothing,” I insisted as I weaved around them. 

  I pushed myself against my locker and managed to open it with my free hand. Rue was on one side of me and Cassie was on the other. 

  “Is it a boy?” Cassie sang.

  “Or a girl?” Rue questioned.

  “It’s none of your business,” I gritted out as I grabbed my necessary books. 

  As I shuffled the books in my arms, Jules came from behind and slipped my phone away from me. I gasped, whirled around, and watched as Rue tried to look at the phone while Cassie playfully blocked me.

  “Guys, this is not cool! This is such a serious invasion of privacy,” I argued as I tried to move around Cassie.

  “We’re besties, there’s no such thing as privacy!” Jules retorted. 

  “Wow, Y/N, these are so----” Jules cut Rue off.

  “Adorable!” Jules squealed and turned to face me.

  Cassie took the opportunity to glance at my phone and she smiled. “Aw, this Tyler guy sounds so sweet.” 

  I snatched my phone from Jules. “Well, now you know. Can we please go to class now?” 

  As the other girls grabbed their things from their lockers, I got out my phone to reply to Tyler.

  Y/N: It’s never too late...until noon technically.

   Somehow, I started wandering away from the girls until I ran into someone. I tried to jump away, but they grabbed me by the forearms.

  “I am so sorry, I should have looked where I was going---” I stopped speaking when I recognized Nate’s direct gaze on me. I was pretty tall but I always felt like he could throw me into the lockers if he wanted to.

  “Watch it, Y/N,” he muttered. 

  “Nate, let go of them,” Maddy chided, her hand resting against one of his arms. 

  She seemed to have the magic touch because he relaxed and I joined my friends. As the couple continued down the hallway, I couldn’t help but admire them. In a very messed up way, they worked. Kat had told me only a little about what Nate would do whenever Maddy upset him and I felt so bad for her, angry at him, and then conflicted. Nate just had to have that stereotypical amazing all-American look.

  “You okay, Y/N?” Cassie asked.

  “Yeah, is it weird that I can still feel his eyes on me even when he’s not looking?” I asked. 

  “No, his need for dominance permeates everyone’s sense of autonomy,” Rue assured.

  “Nice,” Jules said. 

  “And scary accurate,” Cassie added. 

  Jule looped her arm with mine and steered us in the direction of our first classes. “Anyway, if he tries anything, I’m sure Tyler would gladly kick his butt for you.” 

   Throughout the day, Tyler and I chatted and I even had to get creative with responding. In English, I kept my head down during quiet reading time and made sure my phone was positioned just right in my lap. During geometry, I told Mrs. Packer that I was having some digestive issues and spent most of the class outside the bathroom, texting Tyler. At lunch, I could barely focus on my friends’ conversation.

   “Hello, Earth to Y/N?” Lexi waved her hand in front of my face and I blinked.

   “Sorry, I was----”

   “Texting her boooyfriiiend,” Jules sang.

   “He’s not my boyfriend, we’re just talking.” I started poking at my sandwich. “What did I miss?” 

  “Oh, nothing, just the fact that I nearly blew up the school during chem,” Cassie said. 

  “Magnesium chloride isn’t an explosive,” Lexi argued. 

  “Well, the tube overflowed and everyone was freaking out,” Cassie argued.

  “Yeah, because magnesium chloride can have bad side effects,” Lexi continued.

   “I wonder what would happen if the school exploded and we weren’t all here? Would they have to give us our diplomas?” I thought outloud.

  “Ooh, and I could go to fashion school early!” Jules cheered. 

  “I’d be happy not coming here anymore,” Rue admitted. 

  It was quiet for a moment as we all ate but that quiet was broken when Maddy yelled.

  “WHO ARE YOU TEXTING?”

  I couldn’t help myself but look. Maddy was standing behind Nate, who was sitting with his teammates at the center table. Bebe and Kat flanked Maddy a little behind. Everyone stared at them. Nate’s jaw tightened. 

  “Maddy, calm down,” his relaxed, controlled voice nearly echoed in the silent cafeteria. 

  “DON’T TELL ME TO CALM DOWN! YOU’VE BEEN ON YOUR PHONE ALL DAY!” she snapped. 

  “Maddy---” 

  “ARE YOU TEXTING OTHER GIRLS?” Maddy shouted.

  “Can we talk about this somewhere else?” Nate asked. 

  Maddy sighed. “Are you gonna let me see your phone?”

  “Maddy, we need to talk.” 

  “Don’t talk to me again.” 

  Before Nate could respond, Maddy dumped the contents of her lunch tray over his head and threw the tray aside. Kat and Bebe followed her as she strutted out of the cafeteria amid the shocked gasps. 

   “I’m gonna go check on her,” Cassie whispered.

  We all nodded and she quietly exited the room. As I stared at Nate, the supposed king of the school, drenched in soggy salad and fat-free milk, I wondered why he could never stay broken up with Maddy. Their relationship was not just toxic, it was volatile. Their breakups were always public and outrageous, but they always ended up back together. No one questioned it either. I never understood why people could continue to choose relationship they knew was bad over pursuing something new. I told Tyler as much that night. 

   Y/N: It’s like those dogs that get killed by electric fences because they keep walking into them.

  Tyler: U have a good point, but, that couple’s relationship is more complicated than u think. 

  Y/N: Probably, but, it doesn’t look that way. They hurt each other a lot.

  Tyler: How do u know? 

   Y/N: Bc I’ve seen it. I don’t mean 2 b judgy, but, I could never be in a relationship like that. 

  Tyler: Well, I don’t think anyone would b if they knew it would b bad. 

  Y/N: Good point. But, why would they get back together so much? 

  Tyler: Idk them, but, it could b bc it’s familiar and it’s what they know.

  Y/N: Still, it’s messed up.

 Tyler: Yeah, but I don’t wanna talk abt them anymore.

 Y/N: K, what do u wanna talk abt? 

  A few seconds later, Tyler sent me a picture so graphically beautiful that I was convinced I passed out.

 The next day, I showed Rue and Jules the picture during break time.

 “Holy crap!” Jules took my phone and leaned into it for closer inspection. 

 “Tyler is packing,” Rue agreed. 

  Jules slid my phone back to me. “You haven’t replied to him?”    “No, and he hasn’t talked to me at all today.”

  “He’s probably expecting a reply that’s similar to what he sent,” Rue said.

  My face warmed up. “I can’t send him nudes,” I hissed.

  “Why not? It’s like the greeting cards of our generation,” Jules stated.

  “Really? You’d send your grandparents a greeting card of your naked body?” I replied sarcastically.

  “Relax, if you’re uncomfortable, we can help you,” Jules assured.

  “We can?” Rue asked.

  “We can.” Jules gave her a look and Rue relaxed. 

  “It’s still weird, but, I guess you guys can come over after school.”

  “Sweet! Your mom still bakes cookies for you after school, right?” Jules asked.

  I nodded.

  “She might stop once she learns her darling favorite older child is sending nudes,” Rue snorted as she spoke.

  I recoiled in my seat, taking a second to bask in the sun’s warmth. “Don’t remind me.” 

  After swim practice, once my teammates left the locker room, I eyed my naked form in the mirror. I had nothing to be ashamed of, really, thanks to all the swimming, but, I just felt weird being naked in front of people. There was something so vulnerable about it, like, being on display in a museum or lying on a cold surgery table. But, online dating was supposed to get me out of my comfort zone and I’d found someone who’d made me feel comfortable enough to do it. With this resolve, I changed into a hoodie and some sweatpants and left the school. It was dusk and I typically walked home after practice since it wasn’t far. Plus, I’d told Jules and Rue to just go to my house after school. 

  The late breeze rippled past me and I dug my hands into my pants’ pockets as I started walking towards the parking lot. There was barely anyone around, except stoners hotboxing their cars, some couples making out, and dance team members and football players getting out of practice.

  I kept my head down as I maneuvered around the few cars and people around. It felt like someone could spot what I was about to do once I got home and it was nervewracking. All I had to do was get home, let Jules make me look even better, take these pictures, and never thinking of it again.

   “Something on your mind, Y/N?” Nate called.

   I froze and snapped my head up to look at him. He was leaning against his truck, looking like a model for Ford in only a tshirt and jeans. Ford should hire him. 

   “No, not really,” I said. 

   I started to side step the truck, eyeing the sidewalk that was only a few yards away as though it was a lifeline. 

  “Get in,” Nate ordered.

  I paused and looked at him. “Excuse me?” 

  “I see you walking home all the time, let me do you a favor, one athlete to another.” Nate was about halfway in the driver’s seat of the car and all I could do was stare.

  “We’ve...never really talked before,” I stated. 

  “We can talk during the drive.” 

   I stepped back and my eyes flittered around, like the best decision would hit me in the face. Then, I saw Maddy across the lot. She was standing with a couple of dance team girls, including Cassie. She stared me down as though daring me to do it. I glanced from her to Nate, who started the engine loudly. 

   I quickly climbed into the passenger’s seat and stared into Maddy’s reflection in the rearview mirror as he pulled out of the parking lot. 

  “How do you know where I live?” I asked.

  “You forgot that I gave you a ride before?” Nate asked.

  “When?” 

  “After Cassie’s sweet sixteen. You blacked out, your friends were panicking, and I offered to take you home. For some reason, you remembered your address,” Nate recalled.

  “Oh, thanks?” 

  “Sure.” 

  We pulled up to my house a few minutes later, Lil Wayne bragging about his conquests filling the quiet. I hopped out of the truck and grabbed my bag. 

  “Thanks for the ride, this one, I mean, I owe you,” I said.

  “Yeah, see you around, Y/N.” 

  I closed the door and headed inside.

  “I’m home!” I called.

  My mom poked her head out from the kitchen. “Y/N, how was school and practice?” 

  “Fine.” 

  “Was that Nate Jacobs outside?” 

  I hesitated. 

  How did she know what Nate’s truck looked like?  “Yeah, he gave me a ride today.” 

  “Aw, isn’t that sweet? Rue and Jules are waiting for you in your room. They took the cookies with them.”  

  I nodded and went to my room. As soon as I walked in, they bombarded me with questions.

  “Why did Nate give you a ride?” Rue asked.

  “What did you guys talk about?” Jules inquired. 

  “Don’t you hate him?” 

  “He’s kind of a dick, but, unfortunately, super good looking.”

  “Did Maddy see?” 

  “Do you think she’s gonna kill you?” 

  “Guys, I don’t know but I do know that if you do not take amazing pictures of me with no clothes on soon, I will delete my entire profile,” I interrupted. 

  They both nodded. 

  “But, we will ask for details later,” Jules insisted.

  “Okay, but, please give me a cookie, I’ll need it to get through this.” 

  Rue extended the plate towards me and I bit into the melty goodness as Jules began doing my makeup. It was simple, only bringing out my best features. I made them both turn around as I undressed. Once I had, Jules encouraged me.

  “You look amazing, I would be shocked if he didn’t jizz in his pants,” Jules said.

  “Lower your voice, Y/B/N can only play Five Nights at Freddy’s so loud,” I hissed.

  Jules held her hands up and Rue direct me to lay on the bed, my phone held up in front of her.

  “Okay, look sexy,” Rue said.

  I tried to smolder, but, by their expressions, I did not achieve it.

  “No, like, pout your lips, like, you just heard that TheOdd1sOut is not uploading for a month,” Jules directed.

  “And give the camera bedroom eyes, you know, as though it’s Tyler.”

  “Okay.”    After a few pictures, I slowly got the hang of it and even started posing a little naturally.

  “Oh my gosh, Tyra is shook!” Jules cheered. 

 “Yeah, these are pretty good if I do say so myself.” Rue handed me my phone and I flipped through the pictures. 

  She was a talented photogrpaher and I joked that maybe she should go professional.

  “Yeah, I’m sure I’d have a nice clientele.” 

  I laughed as I changed back into my hoodie and sweatpants. “Okay, help me pick one to send.” 

  Jules took my phone and she and Rue began scrolling.

  “No, the lighting’s off in this one,” Jules muttered.

  “No, it’s never off in any of these,” Rue argued. 

  “I’m not shading your talent, I’m just trying to find the best thing for Y/N to send Tyler.” 

  After a little more bickering, we all agreed on the picture and I sent it to Tyler.

  “Should I follow it up with something?” I asked.

  “Maybe say ‘Wrong person’? Guys want what other guys want,” Jules suggested.

  “Or say ‘Sorry for the late reply’,” Rue added.

  “I’ll go with Rue’s, sorry, Jules.” 

  Jules shrugged. 

  I sent everything off and my friends and I watched as Tyler typed a response.

  Tyler: It was worth the wait ;).

  We squealed so loud that my mom yelled for us to keep it down. We apologized as we descended into a fit of giggles. Through it all, I could not help but feel so bouncy and light all over. Was I...falling for this total stranger? 

  “What do you think he looks like?” Jules asked during lunch later that week.

  I shrugged. “It’s different every day, if that makes sense.” 

  “I guess that’s the nice thing about interacting with someone who doesn’t show their face,” Jules thought outloud. 

  “How do you see him now?” Lexi asked. 

  I sighed. “Right now, I think he’s tall, six feet at least. He’s got a mix of blonde and brown hair like a surfer because it’s lightened from all the time he’s spent in the sun. He has green eyes, freckles, and he dresses well.” 

  “Sounds amazing,” Jules said as she rest her chin in her hand. 

  Rue nodded slowly. “You’re not nervous or anything?” 

  “No, this is so cheesy, but, I feel like I know him, you know? He’s so easy to talk to and has so much to say.”

  “Y/N’s blushing,” Jules teased. “Do you love him?” 

  “I really, really, really, like him.” 

  “Do you think you’ll meet soon?” Lexi asked.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know, neither of us has brought it up.”

  “Well, it just matters that you’re comfortable, okay?” Rue said.

  “Okay.” 

  If I was honest, I did not know if I wanted to meet Tyler. I knew that I liked him more than I liked anyone before, but, there was something strange about breaking this wall the internet provided us. It was freer to talk on the internet than it was in person. What if I said something stupid in front of him? What if he thought that I looked different in person? What if he looked different in person? 

  I managed to keep these thoughts at bay for the rest of the day until I got home. Post-dinner had been officially declared Talk to Tyler Time. None of my family knew what I was doing besides blasting Amy Winehouse in my room for about an hour. My laugh nearly overpowered her high note in “Best Friends, Right?”. I had to blink away my happy tears as I replied to him. 

  Y/N: That did not happen!  Tyler: Yes it did! Do u want 2 c the scar????

 Y/N: No, I think I’m good.

 I wiped away my tears and settled under the covers. I wondered if his friends would agree that Tyler gets into some weird situations as well. Just as I started typing, Tyler beat me.

 Tyler: I want 2 meet u.

 The speed that I launched my phone away from me almost shocked me more than the text.

  Almost.

  My heartbeat thrummed in my ears. This was it, I knew I couldn’t avoid him much longer, but, I felt like I couldn’t move. All I could do was stare at my phone like it was the most offensive object in the world. Slowly, I regained mobility and grabbed my phone. I took a deep breath.

  “Take a chance, Y/L/N,” I whispered.

  Y/N: When and where?

    “You’re meeting him tonight?” Jules squealed the next day.

  I hushed her as people in the hallway paused to look at us. “Not so loud.”   “But this is so exciting. Please let me help you decide what to wear,” Jules pleaded with a pout. 

  “Sure,” I said. 

  Jules hugged me. “This is going to be so fun. I won’t go crazy with glitter since this is the first time you’re meeting this guy.” 

 “Thanks?” 

 “Do your parents know?” Rue asked.

 “No,” I replied as I slowly pulled away from Jules. “They’re coming Senior Night tonight, though. and I’m going to meet him at Mercy Park an hour before it ends.” 

 “Are you sure you even want to do this? I know that Jules and I tease you about your love life, but, this is risky,” Rue said. 

 “You weren’t saying that when you were helping me with those pictures the other day,” I shot back.

  “That was different. You’re...you’re actually meeting him now and he could be a psychopath or a sociopath or, just, a creepy old guy who likes to look at teenagers!” Rue insisted.

  “Rue, relax, everything’s going to be fine.”

  “You don’t know that!” She turned on her heel and hurried into the bathroom with Jules and I on her tail. 

  When we entered, Rue was leaning against the wall, panting and staring up at the ceiling. Jules and I approached her slowly as the girls who were in the bathroom quickly filed out. 

  “Rue, slow down your breathing,” I said slowly.

  “I...I can’t. You-you could get hurt or something and-and I would know about it an-and I-I couldn’t live with that!” Tears burst from her eyes as Rue began pacing and Jules and I were close but gave her room. 

  “Rue, Y/N is going to be okay, we both know what time she’ll be at the park. If anything happens, we’ll know the area she could be in,” Jules assured her.

  Rue shook her head and stopped in her tracks. Then, she looked between us helplessly before bowing her head and sobbing. Jules and I carefully hugged her and let her cry.

  “I’m sorry that I’m scared and I care about you and I don’t want you to get hurt,” Rue mumbled into my shirt.

  “It’s okay, I appreciate it. I really want to meet Tyler, though, and, I promise I will let you know if something happens, okay?” 

  Rue nodded and sniffled.

   It took Jules about an hour to make me look amazing. I had no idea my hair could be so fluffy and put together until she was done with it. She used eyeliner to make eyes look bigger and rounder and added sparkly lip gloss to make my lips look plumper. After she contoured and highlighted the best places she deemed that her work was done. My outfit, a fitted forest green long-sleeve shirt and fitted black pants with Jadons, was also approved by her.

  “Tell me everything later!” she insisted.

  Rue couldn’t join us since she had “prior commitments” but I texted her that I would let her know when I head to the park and when I leave. My nerves didn’t let me focus on the soccer game my parents insisted I joined them and my brother at. I couldn’t care less that the forward on one team got a yellow card or that the goalie on the other team made illegal blocks. I was practically buzzing with excitement and fear so much that I had to give my pretzel to Y/B/N. Finally, the third quarter arrived and I told my parents that I would meet them at home since I’d promised Lexi that I would help her with some homework. 

  Lexi wouldn’t mind being used for a lie this one time; it was an emergency.

  I tried to practice some calming deep breaths as I walked over to the park. The dark night sky provided a little bit of comfort to my walk. I wondered how different Tyler would look from the picture in my mind. I wondered if he thought I would look any different. Maybe (hopefully) it wouldn’t matter to either of us.

  Finally, I reached the park. It was empty, save for the oak trees scattered throughout the lush green scenery that seemed mysterious under the mooonlight. A few benches and wooden tables were around as well, but, Tyler and I had agreed to meet at the fountain which was further in the park. The breathing exercises had to have helped because I felt much more relaxed and I hoped that everything would go all right. 

   When I got to the fountain, there was a tall person facing it. All I could make out were dark clothes and broad shoulders. I took another deep breath and kept walking.

  “This is a nice spot, you have good taste,” I commented. 

  “I could say the same for you.” I stopped in my tracks as Nate slowly turned to face me. His face was unreadable but his eyes stayed on me. 

  “What? Wh-where’s Tyler?” I asked, my voice already hoarse. 

  Nate glanced down at his shoes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know how else to talk to you.” 

  I shook my head. “No.” My vision got blurry but I could tell that Nate was looking up at me now. 

  “Just let me explain,” he requested softly. 

  He took a step towards me and I took two steps back .

 “I don’t wanna hear it. This....this is some sick joke to you or something?” 

 “No, never, Y/N, just listen to me.” 

 “I don’t want to!” The tears rolled down my cheeks and I swiped at them so hard that I thought I scratched myself. At least I could feel something because my heart felt numb. “You catfished me!” 

  “I just wanted to talk to you, I really do like you, Y/N. Tyler and I are the same, just different names,” Nate insisted, coming closer.

  For some reason, I didn’t move. I didn’t know if it was from emotional exhaustion or stress, but, I let him approach me. I kept shaking my head. 

  “No,” I hiccuped. 

  “I wanted to meet you tonight because I was tired of lying. I want to figure this, us, out,” Nate said.

  I sniffed. “Us?” 

  At that moment, I could actually see his face and Nate seemed so hopeful. There was a slight smile on his lips and his eyes seemed light for once. Maybe he wanted there to be an “us”. Maybe, despite all logic, he wanted to talk to me seriously and could not do it offline because of his reputation. Maybe, he was over the on-again-off-again situation with Maddy. Maybe, this was my chance, our chance.

  I wiped my face again, mentally cringing at how upset Jules would be for my ruining her masterpiece. 

  “Yeah, us.” Nate stepped closer to me, gently wrapped his arms around my waist, and pulled me into his chest.

  Gradually, my muscles relaxed and I relished in the feeling of his strong upper body and his warmth. Then, I began to feel pressure on my waist and gasped as it intensified. 

  “Nate, you’re...squeezing...too hard,” I rasped out. 

  And he started laughing, no, cackling. As he laughed, his grip tightened and I continued gasping and clawing at everything I could. 

  “Nate...stop!” 

  But he kept laughing and squeezing. When he finally released me, I looked up and saw nothing behind his eyes. Everything in me told me to run, but, I knew he could have easily caught up to me.

  “I really thought you were smarter than that, Y/N. C’mon, you couldn’t honestly think that I would do all this to be with you,” he sneered.

  “So why do it then?” I asked, my voice so small that I could have kicked myself for it. 

  Nate sighed and folded his arms. “Because you made it so easy and, to ask for a favor.” 

  “What? That makes no sense,” I argued. “I told you I owed you one that day you gave me a ride!” 

  “Yeah, well, I needed to make sure that you were available when I needed you.” 

  “Whatever, screw you,” I hissed as I pivoted on my heel. 

  “Too late for you, you’re already screwed.” Nate pulled out a folder from inside his jacket pocket. “Remember those special pictures you sent to Tyler? Well, they count as distribution of child pornography, which has a hefty fine and sentence.” 

   My mouth opened and closed several times before I faced him and responded. “But...but you held them, doesn’t that count towards possession? And, you’re extorting me!” 

  Nate glowered at me and stormed over. “Heresay, no solid evidence for your case. Plus, I’m a Jacobs, so, who are you kidding?” 

   I felt so sick to my stomach that I could have thrown up, fainted, or cried at that moment. This was not real, this could not be real.

   “What do you want?” I asked.

   “Like I said, just be available when I need you.” 

  “Fine.” 

  “Sorry, what was that?” He gripped my chin his hand and forced me to look up at him.

  “Okay,” I said softly.

  “Hmm.” His eyes scanned my face before he released me. “And if I ever hear you judging my relationship with Maddy again, these pictures are going to be the least of your concern.” 

  I nodded weakly, regretting every single thing I ever told him. Nate Jacobs was truly the devil. He wandered off into the night like a centurion leaving a victorious battle. It seemed like he always won. 

  I managed not to start crying until I was on the empty sidewalk. No, I sobbed so bad that my throat went dry. 

  How could I have been so stupid? I should have known it was him that day Maddy yelled at him for texting all day. 

  Stupid, stupid, stupid!

  My sobs continued as I grabbed my phone and texted Rue. 

  Y/N: U were right. 

[rainy-day-gracie]

Old Friends 4

Spencer Reid x reader

This chapter includes more of Reader’s backstory, I included a brother, but if you don’t have a brother... just do whatever you want. More fluff!!

Enjoy :)

Chapter 5 has been posted!!

Chapter 4:

“C’mon, smarty pants! We can do it!” I was practically yelling in between pants and heaves. “So close!”

“I hate you so much,” I heard him wheeze. 

I was the only one in the world that could convince Spencer to go on a jog through the city, and I think he was regretting that decision severely. “Do it for donuts!” 

When we finally reached our end destination, he practically collapsed onto a nearby bench, his chest heaving up and down. 

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” I asked with a smile. “We’re close to the cafe and the subway, so we won’t even have to walk that far.”

“For the record, it definitely was that bad, YFN. Don’t try and sugar coat it.” 

I grabbed his wrist and pulled him off the bench. “We need carbs, right now. Carbs covered in chocolate and sprinkles, let’s go.” 

He groaned and followed me into the cafe. “Where will we get changed into work clothes?” 

“They have bathrooms at the BAU. Stop whining-“ I stopped talking as soon as I saw who was in front of me. 

Morgan looked just as surprised to see us, sweaty, tired, and together, at 7:30 in the morning. His surprised look quickly changed into an amused one, and Morgan started chuckling. “Well, hello, lovebirds.” 

“Hello, Morgan,” I said, feeling like I was caught. But we weren’t, right? We’re not dating, and all we did was go for a jog together. “Um, good morning.” 

I could feel Spencer’s nervous energy rolling off of him. “Hey, Morgan.” 

Morgan gave one last chuckle, and left the cafe without another word. Through the window I could see him pulling out his phone. There was nothing we could do about it now. 

It was only our luck. I chuckled slightly at the thought, and turned to the cashier. “Four chocolate covered donuts with sprinkles, an unsweetened iced tea, and a large coffee with lots of milk and sugar please.”

---

I sat at my desk, trying not to laugh at how Spencer winced every time he had to move his legs. Morgan kept looking over at us and chuckling. 

I tried to convince myself that it wasn’t a big deal. No matter what happens, we’re still old friends. We aren’t dating, and a jog in the early morning together isn’t exactly romantic. 

During our lunch break, JJ came up to me. “Why is Morgan giggling like a four year old?” 

“Well, Spencer and I went on a jog together this morning. We went to a cafe after and Morgan was there also.” I explained in a low voice. “He’s now convinced we were on some kind of date, which we weren’t.” 

JJ looked dumbfounded. “Spence must care about you more than we thought. No one’s ever been able to get him to go on a jog before.” 

I laughed. “Well, I think he now hates me for it so-“ 

“Hello, wonderful people!” Garcia called from the railing. “We have a case!”

---

“First victim, Bethany Conlin, was found beaten to death just outside of a small town, Pagosa Springs, Colorado.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Pagosa Springs?”

Garcia looked confused. “Yeah, What is it?”

“Oh um, nothing, it’s just my hometown.” Not much of a home anymore. 

“Oh cool! Anyways, a second victim, Cassie Holloway, was found by some hikers by a commonly traveled trail in the woods. Also beaten to death.”

I tried to keep tears out of my eyes. Cassie? 

The team quickly talked over theories for a profile. The only thing I heard was, “Wheels up in 30.”

Before we left, Spencer and Morgan both pulled me aside. 

“What’s wrong?” Spencer asked quietly. 

“You could barely keep it together in there.” Morgan added. 

I took a deep breath. “Cassie... She was my best friend until I moved away. She was the sweetest...” I squeezed my eyes shut to keep the tears from falling. “And she was murdered.”

They were both silent. 

I opened my eyes, anger replacing my sadness. “Let’s catch this son of a bitch.”

---

Hotch gave assignments on the jet. “Rossi, Reid, YLN, go to the ME to find out what you can about the bodies. Morgan, JJ, you guys go to the dump sites. Prentiss and I will interview the families.”

“Actually, Hotch,” I interjected. “Could I possibly interview the families? Um... Cassie Holloway was my good friend, and I’m from Pagosa Springs.” I looked down at the file in my lap. Cassie’s file.

Hotch considered it. “That would be alright. They might share more with you if they already know you. And YLN?”

“Yes?” 

“I’m sorry for your friend.”

---

Cassie’s parents looked exactly the same as they did when we were 10. Her mom had dark red hair, and her dad was bald. I used to think they looked scary, but now they just looked sad. 

I cleared my throat when I walked into the room. “Um, Mr. and Mrs. Holloway? I don’t know if you remember me but-“

Her mother gasped. “YFN? Is that you?”

I gave a small smile. “Yes, I’m here to catch Cassie’s killer. Um, have you seen her recently?”

Her father sniffled. “We saw her two days ago. We had dinner together, and... she was fine.” He erupted into a fit of tears. 

It hurt me in my chest to see this kind man that had practically raised me until I was twelve so broken up like this. “Did she mention anyone that had bothered her? Or someone she might’ve rejected? I know she’s a local bartender, maybe someone there?”

Her mother shook her head, rubbing her husband’s back. “You know Cassie... everyone loved her.” 

It was true. Cassie was one of the kindest souls I’ve ever come across. “One last question... does she know Bethany Conlin?”

Both of her parents looked at each other, then back at me. “Yes,” her mother breathed. “They were sorority sisters together in college.”

---

“Hotch!” I called across the station. “Bethany and Cassie were sorority sisters in college. They both went to Colorado State, they hadn’t spoken in a couple years, but it couldn’t be a coincidence that they both ended up dead in a week's period.” 

“This makes it highly likely that whoever is doing this went to college with them.” Hotch pulled out his phone. 

“What do you need, bossman?” Garcia called over speakerphone. 

“Garcia, Bethany and Cassie were sorority sisters in college. Can you find any incidents with the two of them that stand out or could be a motive?” I didn’t realize how fast my heart was beating until I stopped talking. 

“Hmmm... nothing jumps out, but I’m going to investigate further! Goodbye, my lovelies!” 

As soon as we hung up, the local sheriff approached us. “We just got an anonymous tip saying a third body would be found in an old abandoned bar on the edge of town,” the sheriff paused, and looked at me. “The caller said you had to be the one to find it first. Otherwise, and I quote, ‘there will be more than beaten bones next time’.”

I took a deep breath. “Let’s go.”

---

The abandoned bar smelled like stale beer and mildew. I felt an odd chill when I entered the door, Hotch and Emily waiting outside. 

Pulling out a flashlight, the eerie bar creaked with every step I took. It wasn’t until I saw the pair of feet lying on the ground that made me stop, the bar falling silent. 

Slowly rounding the corner, I saw the torn clothing and broken body of a young man, probably the same age as me. I looked at his pale hands, and then I saw the ring. A plain gold ring that read ‘be strong for me’. 

“Oh my god,” I whispered. 

My feet couldn’t carry me fast enough out of that bar. I ran outside, desperate for fresh air, and I heard shouts calling after me. 

“YLN!” Prentiss chased me until I stopped to lean against the car, my head in my hands. “Hey, you’re hyperventilating!”

I slowed down my breathing enough to gasp a few words. “The body... a ring... my fault... oh my god, this is my fault!”

Prentiss pried my hands away from my face. “What is happening?” 

“The body,” I gasped. “He was my brother... and I know who did this.”

--- 

The team all gathered at the station. I hadn’t spoken to anyone yet except for Hotch and Prentiss, and after hearing my story, they didn’t have any doubts about who it was either.

Spencer walked into the quiet room the police had given us, looking at me with a worried face. I nodded at him, just to say it was going to be okay. 

“Growing up, my father owned a large share of an oil company. When he died when I was very young, he left my mom everything he owned, which was a lot.” I thought back to when Mom first got the call about the car accident. My dad and his mistress were killed on impact. “We moved here to Pagosa Springs, a fresh start. But my mom was so upset about my dad’s death that she started drinking. Excessively.” 

I took a deep breath. “She would scream and shout and disappear for days at a time. We’re twins, my brother and I. We were eleven. I was about to graduate high school at a very young age and I didn’t know what to do. When I went off to college for the first few years and stayed with my aunt, my brother would call me every time Mom was off drinking. When he was a teen, he got into drugs and pills and anything he could get his hands on. And I wasn’t there to help him.”

“But Cassie was.” Hotch guessed. 

“Yeah, she's the reason my brother got clean. They fell in love and both went to Colorado State together. She gave him a ring to wear whenever he started to have cravings again. One time, Cassie called me when I was at MIT, saying her friend, Bethany, was raped and couldn’t go to the police because her parents would stop paying her tuition for ‘causing a scene’... she said my brother, YBN...” my voice broke for the first time. “She said YBN beat the crap out of Bethany’s rapist. His name is Kenny Rogers, and from what I’ve heard, he was a sketchy dude with a massive temper even back then.” I closed my eyes. “Anyway, that’s most likely who our unsub is.” 

“You’re YBN’s sister,” Spencer said. “After having his ego blown massively, Kenny probably carried that hatred for anyone that was related to YBN. And YFN has been in newspapers, articles, even on TV. Something probably caused Kenny to snap recently, his trigger, and he felt the need to hurt YFN somehow to really get back at YBN.”

Hotch called Garcia. “Garcia, we need all addresses on a Kenny Rogers.” 

---

Kenny Rogers was guilty. No doubt. When the team went to his place, they found pictures of all the victims and Kenny tried to run whenever they broke down the door. 

I stayed behind at the station. I couldn’t trust myself to not shoot Kenny on sight for what he had done. 

“Hey, Hotch?” I asked when they got back. “Could I take a few days off? To take care of things...with my brother?” 

Hotch gave me a pat on my shoulder. “Take as much time as you need, just let me know when you’re coming back.” 

“Of course sir, and thank you.”

I made sure to pull Spencer aside before he left. “Thanks for... um, helping me explain... earlier. I was worried they wouldn’t think it was connected, and you already knew all that stuff about my childhood.”

“Of course, you know I would do anything for you.” Spencer stood there for a minute, then suddenly embraced me tightly in a hug. That wasn’t something he did very often, or at all. “I just...” 

I chuckled slightly, wrapping my arms around his waist. “I know, Spencer.” 

---

After the team took off on the jet, I checked into the local hotel. It was nice and rustic, homey. 

I called Spencer when I had settled in. 

“Hey, how are you doing?” He asked. “The team seems to be getting more and more impressed by you with each case.” 

I gave a snort. “Well, that’s a relief. I was scared after my life story they would see me as some kind of kicked puppy. And, I’m okay Spencer. At least, I’m going to be.”

“What will you do about your brother?”

I felt a melancholy smile on my lips, playing with the loose threads on the blanket. “He’s been cremated, and tomorrow I’m scattering his ashes in the mountains. It’s what he always wanted. I hadn’t spoken to him in years, but he always wanted to come back home, and I couldn’t wait to get away.” 

Spencer was quiet for a while. “Hey, YFN, I just wanna tell you... you’re the strongest person I’ve ever met. You went off to college and still took care of your brother at age twelve, you took a gap year to take care of your sick mom, and in your first few months at the BAU you’ve been able to impress every single team member... and they aren’t easily impressed.”

Happy tears pricked my eyes. “Well, um... that was one of the sweetest things anyone’s ever said to me. And Spencer?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you... so much.”

Spencer cleared his throat, like he was debating about saying something. “Um, YFN?”

“What is it?”

His voice lowered, like he didn’t want the team to hear. “In college, I... I was wanting to propose to you.”

My heart seemed to flutter and butterflies pounded in my chest. “Um... you’ve never told me that before. Why didn’t you... do it?”

He thought for a few moments. “Well, you were going to take care of your mom, and I was going to the FBI academy... also, I didn’t think you would say yes.”

“Wow... um, I don’t really know what to say.”

“Yeah, me neither.”

I gave a slight giggle. “You, speechless? I never would’ve guessed.”

Spencer laughed. “Well, goodnight, YFN. I’ll see you soon.”

“Goodnight, Spencer.”

[detectivedreameater]

Woah, Oh, It’s Magic|| Natalia and Marley

TIMING: Current PARTIES: @castillos-curses SUMMARY: A date, a staring contest, and a happy ending. 

Anyone who suggested Dell's needed a portfolio update, and Marley wasn't opposed to being the one to show them the ropes, especially if it was an attractive woman. Natalia seemed eager, too, to know what Marley had up her sleeve for the after party. And boy, was it gonna be a good one. She'd have to test the waters first, of course, but Marley had great intuition, and her intuition told her that Natalia was more than what she showed. Whether that more was a good more or a bad more, was all that was left to be sussed out. Either way, it was a win for Marley. She got to the restaurant a few minutes early, not her usual game, but it was important that she did this time. Watching someone's approach could tell you a lot about a person, and if Marley could get just thirty extra seconds of establishing a baseline with Natalia, she'd take it. Finally, dark curls appeared from around the corner and Marley couldn't help but notice she looked much nicer in person than in her online profile. "Good to see not everyone lies on their online profile," she jested, giving a grin.

Natalia wasn't the hugest fan of Dell's - to be honest, she barely went to any of the non-supernatural spots in town on any kind of a regular basis. But it was the most well-known and, she thought, least offensive of prospective human only bars to suggest for a first meetup. Marley seemed incredibly against the idea, which was just further points in her favor in Nat's mind. This Marley was not only hot, but also a cop, and potentially a cop who was well in the know? It was like hitting gold. She arrived at Dell's perfectly punctually, dressed down, unsure of what to expect for the evening. "You weren't expecting a catfish, I hope?" Nat replied with a smirk, tossing her hair as she peeled off her denim jacket. "It's nice to meet you - officially, and all. Though, I am sorry to have brought you somewhere that you have such a detestation for."

Marley gave a light chuckle, grinning from behind dark sunglasses again. She wondered if Natalia would immediately find them odd. She found a lot of people who were in the know did. "Maybe," she said coyly, strutting up to the door, "it works out either way for me. I'd just arrest them, so." She pulled it open to allow for Natalia to go in first, giving her a hand wave before following her in. "The only thing Dell's is good for is cheap pre-game drinks. And they're on you, so," she shrugged, heading up to the bar, "I can't complain, right?" Gave a grin as they reached the bar. Natalia was certainly nice to look at, even dressed down. Casual but still cute. Extremely attractive, with an air of mystery.

"Arrest someone for posting misleading pictures on a profile?" Natalia laughed, thinking she was going to like this woman just fine. She stepped inside, curious if Marley was going to keep the sunglasses indoors as well. Her online account didn't give off any markers of her being some kind of supernatural - but then again, not everyone was as obvious as herself. "Fair enough," Nat agreed, bouncing into a stool against the bar. "Two beers?" She asked the bartender, once gaining his attention. With a sly glance at Marley, she added quickly "And a round of tequila shots - thanks." He bustled away to get their drinks, and she grinned at Marley. "Might as well pre-game correctly, right?"

"It might not be real grounds for arrest, but it'd sure give them a good scare," Marley said with a snicker, following suit and pulling herself onto a chair next to Natalia. She hadn't taken her for a beer kind of gal, but the two tequila shots definitely made sense. Natalia was a confident woman, and she seemed very sure of herself. Marley appreciated that. "What's the point if you don't do it right?" When the bartender returned, she scooped up her shot and held it up to Natalia's, ready to cheers. "Here's to an exciting night," she grinned, before tossing it back, that burn traveling all down her throat. "So tell me," she said, leaning on the bar top, "what brought someone like you to White Crest?"

"I hope so." Natalia clinked her shot glass against Marley's, downing it in sync. She let out a small cough at the burn, licking her lips against the smoky tang. The plain taste of the cold beer made for a nice chaser and she took a sip, glancing at the mirrored lenses of her date. "Business, mostly." Nat answered truthfully, "Turns out White Crest, Maine is a great place to make a ton of money for my incredibly specific business." She laughed at the absurdity of where she had ended up. "I'm sure the cops around here are kept as busy as me, with everything that goes on." Her eyebrows raised questioningly, though the question was innocent enough.

Marley grinned. She couldn't help it. She was in a good company, drinking free alcohol, and everything Natalia said had that little devious hint to it that she often found herself using. "Business? What kind?" she asked, sipping her beer. She liked the tequila better, but this would do for now. "Oh, yes, we're kept plenty busy. There's definitely a lot more murder here than in Albany, but I like staying busy. Beats sitting around bored, plus every case here is always so...interestingly different. It's fun finding a new way to say 'coyote attack' when it was very obviously not a coyote. But hey, what Sarge says goes, and if I get paid at the end of the day, that's what matters," she answered, taking another long sip. Normally, she'd be looking around the entire place, picking out things that piqued her interest-- but here, only Natalia did. "I take it you're enjoying the town, then? You don't seem as timid about this place as most others I've met."

Natalia was leaning more honest than she might normally have. Marley seemed to be taking everything she said in stride, and perhaps throwing in some coy comments of her own. "I run an occult shop - on Amity Road. This town has proven incredibly lucrative for me." She chuckled, surprised at the woman's forthcoming nature, and surprised to hear her reference all those bogus 'coyote attacks' she kept seeing in the news. "Yes, those 'coyotes' just don't know when to quit, I think." It was interesting that she mentioned her Sargent enforcing the cover ups - was the entire police force 'in on it', so to speak? "I do like it here," She agreed reluctantly. "Money's great, I've made a lot of connections for my work...but I've been all over the world - it's a bit /quaint/ here, for my taste." Nat shrugged, taking another drink of her own to match Marley. "There are far more intimidating places in the world than White Crest. Though, I've never been to Albany - can't speak for that one."

"Occult shop, huh?" Marley said, grinning as an idea struck her. "Sounds like a very niche business, but I can definitely see why it's something popular here. Whether it's real or not," she added on, wondering how she'd react. Marley had a hunch, but it was always more fun to guess than be told. "Didn't think running an occult store would warrant world travels, or, er-- 'connections'," she went on, putting quotes around the word, a brow raising from behind her frames. "Don't bother, Albany is boring. Quaint is one word for this town, but maybe it's just because you're hanging out in the wrong places. C'mon," she said, downing the rest of her beer, "let's get out of here. I wanna take you somewhere fun." Slid from the bench and held out her hand, looking at her from behind her frames sharply.

Niche was right, though in this town that niche was a bit more mainstream than one small pocket. Natalia couldn't suppress a smirk at the question of validity of her shop. "I get plenty of business from people who believe and who don't." She replied coyly. "I didn't always have an actual store. Before this, I would travel all over buying and selling rare occult items for clients." This was, strictly speaking, the truth, though it was a little more in-depth than she let on. But Marley was moving on quickly, and Natalia liked that restless energy - it crackled between them as she wondered what her idea of 'fun' would actually entail. She finished her beer in suit, leaving a couple of tens on the counter to cover the tab. Her hand grasped Marley's after a second's hesitation and she scooped up her jacket on their way out. "Fantastic - what did you have in mind?"

 "And what about you?" Marley asked, not so coyly this time. "Do you believe or don't you?" She took Natalia's hand and wrapped her cold fingers around hers, leading them out of Dell's-- finally-- and towards the street that led to Amity. She knew exactly where she was going to take Natalia, and she was increasingly more excited to see the look on her face when they arrived. "It's a surprise," she said with a devious grin, hooking their arms together as they walked. "Tell me more about this fascinating job of yours while we walk."

Natalia was again taken aback by her upfront nature. It was rare that people so bluntly asked if she was being serious or not. "I do." Natalia decided to answer honestly, based on her own suspicions of her date, they could have a lot more in common than she though. "You could even call me a witch!" She made a pretend scary face, wiggling her fingers for dramatic 'magical' effect. "But would /you/ believe that? That's the real question." Once they hit Amity, Nat had a pretty good idea of where they were going - but it was a little shocking Marley even knew it existed. Their arms entwined, she chuckled. "I don't know what's there to tell. Taking away the exotic items and locations, I'm just a glorified import and export curator." Importing and exporting endangered species, killer monsters, deadly weapons...but still.

"You know, when you say it like that, I think I do," Marley said, grinning back at Natalia. The truth was, of course she did. Marley knew a few other spellcasters, after all. She tossed her head back and laughed at Natalia's display of finger waggling. "I get the feeling it's a little more than that, but fine," she said, pausing once they'd reached the entrance to the 'Dancing Dryad'-- a front for what was really inside. Marley reached into her pocket and pulled out a matchbook before leading Natalia inside. The little song and dance that was played to gain entrance to the Magic Circle was one Marley had done many a time, and she presented the matchbook along with a dip of her glasses-- proof she was of the supernatural variety-- before turning back to Natalia as the new door opened. "Now it's time for some real fun."

Natalia watched Marley present the requisite items for entry into the Magic Circle with a smug feeling of superiority. She /knew/ it. Hunters should hire her out for her impeccable ability to spot a supernatural being from a mile away, really. "I know how /I/ know about this place - but how do /you/?" Nat didn't miss that moment with Marley dropping her shades, though she wasn't actually able to see her eyes from this angle - more and more intriguing questions popping up as this night went on. As they headed inside - the bouncer giving her a nod in recognition - she looked around, hoping not to see too many people she knew here. "I like your idea of fun - this is certainly a better spot than Dell's, you were absolutely right."

"Can't a girl keep some mystery about her?" Marley followed Natalia in and up to the bar, ordering some nice drinks for the two of them, before turning back to her. She tapped the lens of her sunglasses. "So you are a real witch, then, aren't you?" she said, handing Natalia the drink. "Looks like I just keep getting more and more lucky tonight. First, you're a gorgeous lady, not an old man trying to catfish me-- and now I find out you're a real spellcaster?" She looked around the room, before finally pulling her glasses off. Even inside, the low glow of her red eyes was visible. "I suppose I owe you a little secret, too, since I know yours."

"Yes, really," Nat replied, taking the drink offered. She wondered if she should do a little fun spell to prove it, but really didn't feel like messing it up and losing face. She laughed in response with a hint of a blush creeping up her ears. Gorgeous, huh? Marley's secret finally revealed, she grinned like the cat that ate the canary. A /mara/. And a cop?? How wonderful. "I wonder if there's even one normal human in this town?" Nat asked, chuckling. "It is nice to not have to pretend for the rest of this night - how incredibly tiresome."

Marley grinned. "Unfortunately, there's all too many normal humans in this place, it really kills my vibe sometimes," she said with a wave of her hand. "But tonight we don't have to worry about that at all, right?" She tucked her glasses into the 'v' of her shirt and led Natalia to a more private booth in the back. "So, I take it you come here often? I caught the way the bartender nodded at you. One thing you should know about me is that I'm really good at reading people."

They settled into a quiet booth near the back of the bar, away from the crowd beginning to form at the bar, and she sipped on her drink. It had a bit of a fizzy sensation up her nose, without any carbonation to speak of - magic. "Yes, you caught me." Natalia sighed. Just /how/ good at reading people, she wondered? "I'm quite the regular here. This is a decent place to do business, and as you put it - regular people really kill my vibe." She smiled in response, looking into her faintly red eyes with interest. It was while looking in that direction she caught sight of a regular of her own - fucking Keith. He was making a vicious beeline for their table, so it was too late to pretend not to see him. "And here comes that business right now to ruin my night." She whispered to Marley, standing up and trying to head him off. "Keith - babe, I thought I told you I don't do refunds. You asked to curse your ex-wife, and I did!" The man got close into her space, eyes flashing angrily, and jabbing a finger in her face. "She's a worm! You turned her into a fucking worm! We have kids! The cat tried to eat her!!" Natalia stifled a giggle - it was kind of funny, and she'd been drinking. "No, Keith, /you/ turned her into a worm. I think your words were 'make her feel what she makes me feel like'? Curses are very literal. I only sold you the kit, you did it your-" As she tried to calm him down, he got a fistful of her jacket, shaking her a bit as he kept yelling. She stopped talking pretty quickly.

Marley was about to reply when Natalia looked straight past her. Turning her head, she noticed someone stomping towards them. A little ruffled that her night was being so interrupted, Marley opted to stay put as Natalia rose from the table to intercept him. She took a decent sip of her drink-- letting it fizzle in her mouth-- watching the two. A client, it seemed, mad about what he'd gotten for his money. Marley very nearly spat out her drink trying to suppress a laugh, putting a hand over her mouth. It was, however, very quickly stopped when the man grabbed her date. Marley was out of her seat in mere seconds, glad, for once, that her glasses were already off. "Hey!" she snapped, in a low growl. And instant the man's eye line went from Natalia to her, she stared him down until he was nothing but a crumpled mess on the ground, stricken with the fear she knew she instilled. When she felt satisfied enough to stop, she blinked and stepped back. "Didn't your mother ever teach you not to hit a lady?" she said flatly, before sliding back into the booth as if nothing had happened.

Natalia eagerly slid back out of the man's reach as he quickly dropped her and focused on Marley. She watched Marley stare the man down - no words exchanged, no physical blows dealt, yet he fell to the ground in a heap, shaking and terrified. Her mouth popped open, impressed and mildly scared. Mildly turned on. "Get the fuck out of here, Keith - I don't wanna see you again. Ask Vera to help you, she needs the money." He scrambled away, half-tripping and half-running. Nat sat back down into their booth, eyes fixed on Marley with an incredulous expression. "Thank you...for that. I'm terribly sorry to have /work/ interrupt our evening." She cleared her throat, still amazed at having seen a mara in action. "That was...interesting."

"If there's one thing I hate more than someone interrupting me," Marley said matter-of-factly, sipping her drink, "it's a man who thinks he can put his hands on a woman without her permission." She let her eyes wander from the table and up to Natalia. She didn't find her intimidating like everyone else, right? Did she think she was a monster, too? Like Deirdre? Like Erin? Like the rest of her kind? Ruffling her brow, Marley looked down, sliding her glasses back on. "Interesting is one word. I'm sure he'll think twice about messing with people now," she said, grinning again, though softer this time. "Now, where were we?"

"Agreed." Natalia nodded sagely, taking a drink with only the slightest of shake in her hands. Though she acted unflappable all of the time, having someone bodily grab her and scream in her face still took a minute to get past. "You're quite the knight in shining armor, I'm even more glad to have your company tonight." Her smile was flirty, looking over the rim of her glass. It was downright attractive to watch someone mentally scar a guy on her behalf. "I think the night was /just/ getting interesting, don't you?"

Marley, being the person she was, noticed the slight shake in Natalia's hand as she took a sip. Marley watched her for a moment, giving a smirk back. "I prefer the dark, no shining here." After a second, she removed herself from her side of the booth and slid in next to Natalia, taking her drink from her hand and setting it on the table. She looked at her evenly from behind her glasses, letting her know that she wasn't a threat to her right now, wondering if she needed to reassure her, before leaning in and pressing her lips to Natalia's. She tasted like sweet cinnamon and alcohol. When she pulled away, she murmured, "What do you say we get out of here? My place is right down the street."

[spikeisawesome456]

1. Spotify, SoundCloud, or Pandora? Uh… None, actually. I use YouTube and iTunes mostly. I have YouTube premium family (means that for $15, I get six accounts that can have YouTube Premium) so I don’t have to worry about ads and all that. 

2. is your room messy or clean? Both? I only have a thin area of my room that can have movement, since it’s so small. The majority is taken up either of my bed or my dresser/end table/storage. So the room is full of stuff, but the main area is kept clean so I can move through it, ya know? 

3. what color are your eyes? Green/blue, but mostly green. I also have brown in the center of my eyes. I guess you could call it hazel? I don’t really know what hazel eyes mean, honestly. 

Here’s a close up I took a while ago. I’m looking at you!! Ha!

... I just realized I’ve not changed at all since I was a child. :-(

4. do you like your name? why? Yep! I like it. I have a long, more formal name (Katherine) but also a shorter, more informal nickname (Katie). I like this dynamic of my name. I also like how it sounds. Both of them. <3 

5. what is your relationship status? Single, but okay with that. I’m starting to think I’m aro, as I don’t… ahh, like people? Much? It’ complicated. 

6. describe your personality in 3 words or less Very, very, annoying. 

7. what color hair do you have? I think you could call it golden?? I usually call it dirty strawberry blonde. It’s a coppery color, but also blonde. Not quite strawberry, not quite dirty. A mix? 

This is a somewhat good example, but it is a bit more copper-toned than usual, due to the light next to my computer. The kids at work ask me sometimes if I dyed my hair, since it is almost completely orange on the badge my work printed for me, aha. But this shows the range of colors my hair goes through. 

8. what kind of car do you drive? color? Ha! What, you think I’m a functioning adult? I don’t know how to drive. 

9. where do you shop? Literally anywhere? I don’t care. I get my pants from Walmart, my shirts from wherever sells cute fandom shirts. 

10. how would you describe your style? Ha!!! I answered this one in an ask, but I determined I have no style. I just prefer comfort to fashion. 

11. favorite social media account Hm… I don’t tend to care much for social media accounts, personally at least. I just follow whatever is neat. I guess I like Game Grumps social media?? Eh. 

12. what size bed do you have? Twin. It’s pressed up against the wall and I just sleep pressed into the corner like I’m trying to merge and become one with the wall. One day, sweet wall……..

13. any siblings? Sadly, yes. _._ An older brother. He’s actually fine, but still siblings...

14. if you can live anywhere in the world where would it be? why? Probably…. Hm. I liked New Zealand when I visited, but I don’t know if it would be the best place for me to live, since it’s just so different to how I live now. Same with Ireland, though both would be amazing for me. I think… honestly, where I currently live, since it has good weather and is familiar to me. 

15. favorite snapchat filter? Don’t use snapchat! :-D 

16. favorite makeup brand(s) Hm… I used to only use Bare Minerals, but they don’t have great coverage, I’ve found. I’ve been using Clinique now, but I think they make me break out, which is bad. I don’t like makeup and I always feel it on my skin, or else it makes me break out after usage. I have very sensitive skin, ya feel me?

17. how many times a week do you shower? Never! I hate showers. I don’t like the feel of being blind when the water gets into my eyes.

I take a bath twice a day, though. Once in the morning and once at night, where I wash my hair. I know I’m not supposed to wash my hair so often, but it’s a habit at this point and it helps me sleep now.

18. favorite tv show? Buffy the Vampire Slayer, mostly since it was so important to me growing up. I still love it, though! I just don’t tend to have favorites, ya know? But Buffy will always mean the most to me. 

19. shoe size? I don’t… I don’t really know? Heels I’m a size 8, I think? But I wear size 9.5 for sneakers, since I like my shoes a bit big. I think??? I don’t really know. 

20. how tall are you? Ehhhhhhhh I say I’m 5’4, but who knows. I think I’m 5’3 and a half. I just round up. According to my doctor’s records I shrank and am 5’2, so who even knows anymore. Height is a made-up concept to control the short. ;-)

21. sandals or sneakers? Sneakers, god. I wore sandals once for a fancy event and I got sand and dirt on my feet immediately. It was sad. :-(

22. do you go to the gym? HA!

23. describe your dream date I don’t really know. As I said, possibly aro. Maybe…… Uh…. Somewhere quiet. Private. I’m not good in groups or crowds. OR! Maybe a theme park, the absolute opposite of what I said. OR a fair. I love fairs! Anything, really. I’m not picky. 

24. how much money do you have in your wallet at the moment? Oh! This one is a shock, because my dad just gave me a lot of money since I paid for dinner with my mom, since he was being an overly dramatic baby over me calling out his awful behavior and left us alone for dinner at Red Lobster, and he stubbornly paid me back. So I’ve got… let’s see… about $135, if you count the $30 I had in before. 

25. what color socks are you wearing? Ha! Jokes on you! I’m not WEARING ANY SOCKS!!!! AHA!!!!!!!

26. how many pillows do you sleep with? One. Too many makes me feel weird. 

27. do you have a job? what do you do? Well… I HAD  job, because Covid. I was an after-school teacher, where I looked after kids, kind of daycare style, ya know? I loved it, and I love kids. Currently I’m “teaching” some of the kids I used to look after STEAM over Zoom. Apparently, the girls- sisters- missed doing my STEAM experiments each week and asked their mom to contact me to do the experiments with them over Zoom. I use “teaching” in quotes, since I mostly just do science activities with them, step by step, without much teaching involved. I used to explain why what we did was science, but I don’t want to make the kids do more work when they have so much with Covid going on. Also, I’m lazy, ha. 

28. how many friends do you have? None! Seriously, but it’s okay. As I said earlier, I’m not the biggest fan of people so it’s kind of reliving to be on my own for the most part. I had been making a new friend before Covid, but we’ve not spoken much since. I did text her once and she seemed friendly still. Maybe we can meet up after this all is done with.

  29. whats the worst thing you have ever done? Uh… I don’t really know? I used to get into fights online, mostly just fighting for what I believed in, but I never really attacked anyone, or I didn’t mean to. I’ve not done many bad things?? Not to make myself out to be a goodie-two shoes, but I don’t like hurting people or being “bad,” so I tend to avoid things like that. I’ve probably done things others consider “bad,” but that don’t register to me, so I don’t really know. 

30. whats your favorite candle scent? Oh my god. I’m currently OBSESSED with this new candle from Bath and Body Works. It’s called Strawberry Pound Cake, but it smells like strawberry vanilla, and it’s AMAZING. I love it. I also have it in hand cream and hand sanitizer form and it’s THE BEST. It reminds me of those strawberry vanilla candy things from when I was a kid. 

31. 3 favorite boy names Daniel, William, and… uh… I’m not sure. Alex, maybe? I know I like Daniel and William though. 

32. 3 favorite girl names Emmaline, Clara, and… hmmm… Not sure, again. 

33. favorite actor? Hm. Not sure. I don’t do favorites much. I guess Misha Collins? If this were about YouTube people, I’d say Dan Avidan in a heartbeat. Though… technically he is an actor… he did an actual YouTube show, with a plot and acting, so he’s technically an actor. So, then, him. 

34. favorite actress? I’m even less sure about this one, honestly. I don’t pay attention to actors or actresses much, really. I know Misha since he does GISH, but otherwise I’m unsure about actors much. 

35. who is your celebrity crush? Oh, Dan Avidan, clearly. He’s amazing. My profile pic on Tumblr has been the same for 4 years because I can’t get over the fact I met him. I used to change my profile pic every so often, with my artwork, but now I’m never changing my profile pic. Ever. 

36. favorite movie?  Uh…. Probably Phantom of the Opera, 2004. I love that film. Again, not super into favorite things, but if I had to pick one it would be PotO. 

37. do you read a lot? whats your favorite book? Well, I DO read a lot. Mostly it’s fanfiction though, aha. And again, favorites aren’t really my thing. I used to say Island of the Blue Dolphins, but I reread that book a few years ago and didn’t like it as much. Still liked it but was more eh about it and never finished my read through. Maybe Stargirl, by Jerry Spinelli. I’ve not read it since I was a child, but I recall it being really good. My favorite book I’ve read recently would probably have to be Rebecca, by Daphne du Maurier. I had a lot of problems with it, but ultimately, I loved that book. 

38. money or brains? Brains, obviously. They taste better. :-)

Though to be honest, I do say brains. Money is good, don’t get me wrong, but with brains the person can actually think about doing what is right or wrong. Money corrupts and without thought, there’s so way around it. 

39. do you have a nickname? what is it? Yep! Technically I only go by my nickname, since I go by Katie, but my full name is Katherine. 

40. how many times have you been to the hospital? Ooooh, personally? Once, when I broke my arm when I was 4, almost 5. Well, many times for that, but one time overall. I’ve been in the hospital often for my mom and dad, though. My mom is disabled and is a bit of a hypochondriac, so we sometimes have to take her to the hospital whenever she has pain, just to be safe. She did once have kidney stones, though, so it was needed. My dad had a panic attack once and thought it was a heart attack, so we were there for that. I also went to the hospital once when my grandma was dying, to say goodbye with my dad. It wasn’t sad, which says a lot about my and my dad’s relationship with my grandma. 

41. top 10 favorite songs HA! Can’t. Seriously, can’t. I love too many songs equally for this one.

  42. do you take any medications daily? Yeah. I used to take Seroquel nightly, but that just made me gain 40 pounds and didn’t help with mood much. It only helped me sleep and that was replaced by over the counter melatonin and Benadryl. So I gained 40 pounds for nothing and I’m struggling getting the weight off. Yay!!!!!!

43. what is your skin type? (oily, dry, etc) Both, I think? 

44. what is your biggest fear? Death. 

45. how many kids do you want? I don’t know, one or two? I don’t know if I want to get married though, so… Single mom for the win? I also might want to adopt older kids, or foster them at least, give them a place to live. When I’m on my own and have a stable, good paying job of course. 

46. whats your go to hair style? Whatever my hair naturally does, honestly. I just brush it out and it does its own thing. I have thin, wavy hair, though, so it’s mostly fine. It parts in the middle, and I don’t have bangs. It refuses to grow passed my boob level, no matter how long it goes between haircuts, so it hangs there. It always grows back to boob level, but never passed. No idea why. 

47. what type of house do you live in? (big, small, etc) Very presumptuous, question thing, to assume I live in a house. I live in an apartment, with my mom, dad, and older brother. It’s fairly big, with two bedrooms and a converted den for my bedroom, but it’s small for 4 of us. Less then 1500 square feet. I think 1200? 

48. who is your role model? Hm. This is gonna sound conceited, but myself. Or, the person I want to be. I have an idea of what I’d like to be in life, and that is what guides me. It’s not based off anyone I’ve met, but based on my own personal desires, a mis-mesh of ideals. The only person you can be is yourself. Trying to be like someone else will only hurt you. Even wanting to be like someone else can be hurtful. Not that I’m putting down anyone who has role models! But it just… never worked for me. Putting people on pedestals hurt me, so I just look forward to being the best version of me that I can be. 

49. what was the last compliment you received? Hm… I get a lot of compliments on my Facebook page, people saying I’m doing a good job with that. So that, probably. 50. what was the last text you sent? It was too my dad, who, as previously mentioned, was being a bit of a butt and was mad at me for calling him on his rude behavior to me and my mom. I texted “alright,” to him telling me to not buy him a takeout dinner. I didn’t listen though, and he ate it when we got home after sulking a bit. He’s better now, but he’s yet to apologize. He never does. -.- 51. how old were you when you found out santa wasn’t real? Uh… Wait, Santa isn’t… real…?!?!?!

Aha. JK. I don’t know. Maybe 8?? I don’t remember. I just know I believed when I was 6-ish, when Polar Express came out, since I asked for Santa bells for Christmas. I think I also believed the next year, but I don’t remember much. I learned the difference between Judaism and Catholicism around then, and eventually decided to be Jewish when I was 12-ish, but who knows, man. Who knows? 

52. what is your dream car? One that self-drives and doesn’t ever crash, so I don’t have to drive myself. 

53. opinion on smoking?

Bad! Bad, bad, bad!!! No smoking!

Truthfully, honestly. My mom gets really sick around smokers, especially around pot and vape smokers. It makes her have an allergic reaction. 54. do you go to college? Yeah baby! I just finished and will be getting my (probably useless) degree in the mail soon! Summa Cum Laude, baby! (Highest honors, if you don’t know what that means). Now I just got to get into grad school so I can do something with my Psych BA! Aha. Haha. Ahahaha. Ha… 55. what is your dream job? School psychologist! I want to help children, but don’t have the temperament to be a teacher. I’m too lenient and would let them walk all over me. I kind of do as an after-school teacher. The kids respect me, though, and like me well enough. I don’t think I could be the only person responsible for them, though. I get frazzled, which I learned while doing my STEAM activities and the kids would NOT listen, sometimes. I could do it, though, if the whole school psych thing doesn’t pan out. Or school counselor, would be my second choice. Something to do with kids, though. 56. would you rather live in rural areas or the suburbs? Hm. I like city life, though I think I’d prefer suburbs. I live in a kind of suburb, though I live in a major city… We just don’t have skyscrapers near where I live, only downtown. We have over a million people in my city, and 3 million in the county. So, big. 57. do you take shampoo and conditioner bottles from hotels? Uhm yeah??? Why wouldn’t you? They’re free souvenirs! I went to a kid-themed hotel once, near Disneyland, for my parent’s anniversary, which had this neat bubblegum shampoo from their kid spa. I loved it so much I asked my dad to buy me a whole bottle of it as a body wash. It was… expensive, but I still have some left over, which I’ve kept for some reason. 58. do you have freckles? Some, yeah. Not many on my face, just some around my arms, scattered. I have a big one on my left palm, at the base of the meat of my thumb, if that makes sense. Otherwise they’re just scattered all around. 59. do you smile for pictures? Yep! Well… my version of smiling. I don’t ever smile with my teeth, since they’re small and my lips are so long, so it looks awkward when I smile with teeth. Instead I just smile with my lips. 60. how many pictures do you have on your phone? HA! I had to get myself a 164 GB phone to deal with the fact that I take lots of photos. Over 2,000, now. 61. have you ever peed in the woods? Ew? No? I hate the woods. Or, going into the woods. I like the idea of woods and I like being in them, guided, but staying in them? No. Scary. 62. do you still watch cartoons? Yep! I’m currently watching She-Ra! I like it! 63. do you prefer chicken nuggets from Wendy’s or McDonalds? Oh, no contest. Wendy’s. I do like McDonalds’ chicken nuggets, but Wendy’s are just *chef kiss* mwah! 64. Favorite dipping sauce? Ranch, but I especially like Wendy’s ranch. It’s creamy and nice. 65. what do you wear to bed? Pretty much what I wear during the day. I used to literally just go to bed in my day clothes, before I started taking a bath each night, about 6 years ago. Now I wear yoga pants (ones without pockets, since I finally found ones with pockets for day use!!) and an old faded T-shirt. 66. have you ever won a spelling bee? HA! HAHA! AHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! I can’t spell. I’ve liteally been spelling half my words wrong this entire time. Spell check is my best friend. Though! I did get to the finals of a class spelling bee once, since they gave me easy words (to me, at least) and my classmates harder ones. It was almost funny. 67. what are your hobbies? I like to draw, paint, write, do other crafty stuff… Things like that. I also read, fanfiction mostly. :-) 68. can you draw? Yep!! 

Behold! My digital drawings!

This was my most recent traditional drawing, using charcoal for the first time. It was for GISH. 

69. do you play an instrument? Nope! Ha, but I do wish I could, ya know? But I’m bad at doing different things with one hand vs. the other, which is why I can’t clap my hands and stomp my feet with alternating rhythm. I can only do one thing at once, ya know? 

70. what was the last concert you saw? Ohh, hm. This is a good question… Hm… I think… It was at my county fair last year? A country dude with my parents. Trace Atkins, my dad said. I’ve not had the chance to see many concerts recently, sadly. :-(

71. tea or coffee? I like coffee better on the whole, but I’ve begun to like fruit teas, like raspberry or strawberry. I also like this nice orange/cinnamon tea. 

72. Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts? Dunkin Donuts, is this supposed to be hard? We don’t have many where I live, though. I like their iced coffee from stores, though.  

73. do you want to get married? Ehhhh…… I’ve talked about this before. I’m not sure, really. If I find someone I like who likes me, maybe. But I have a hard enough time making friends, so I doubt it. 

74. what is your crush’s first and last initial? N.O.

(Stands for no one. :-) ) 

75. are you going to change your last name when you get married? IF I get married, probably not. I like my last name. It’s unique. 

76. what color looks best on you? Hm. I don’t really know. Maybe red? I don’t have style so I don’t know. I like blue and purples, but who knows. 

77. do you miss anyone right now? Eh, not really. 

78. do you sleep with your door open or closed? Closed, but my “door” is a curtain, since I sleep in a converted den which has two open windows into the living room that are covered by curtains, and no door, which I also cover with a curtain on a shower rod. It was good when I was a sleepless teen, but now that I’m an adult trying to fix my sleep habits, it’s not so good, ya know. 

79. do you believe in ghosts? Not… really. Not much more to say about this. 

80. what is your biggest pet peeve? People being rude. Like… stop it. 

81. last person you called` Hm. Prolly my dad? Or my brother. I don’t like calling people. Phone anxiety, ya feel me? 

82. favorite ice cream flavor? Rainbow sherbet! Fun fact, when I was younger at camp, maybe 16 or 17, our camp counselor asked us this question and I replied with rainbow sherbet, saying it properly (sher-bet, not sher-bert) and my camp counselor went OFF, saying “Thank you!” for saying it properly. He was… something else. 

83. regular oreos or golden oreos? Oooh, I like those cinnamon bun Oreos. You know the kind? They’re the BEST. I can’t buy them often or else… well. I’ve already gained 40 pounds the last couple years. No need for more, aha.

84. chocolate or rainbow sprinkles? Rainbow. Pretty!! 

85. what shirt are you wearing? My “Scare to Care” shirt that I bought for charity a few years ago. It’s a charity that raises money for Camp Kesem, which helps children who have a relative undergoing cancer treatment have a nice, normal camp experience for free, I think. 

86. what is your phone background? My lock screen is the picture of me and Dan, the background is the drawing I did of the Guardians of the Galaxy years ago. 

87. are you outgoing or shy? Both! Aha. I’m friendly when talking to people, seemingly outgoing, but I don’t go up and talk to people. I fear I’m annoying them, ya know? And I’m awful in groups. I never know when to talk and when I do talk, I fear I’m annoying people. Actually… I always feel I’m annoying people. Aha. Ha… 

88. do you like it when people play with your hair? Yep! People don’t do it often, though. Kids will, but you have to be careful when they do that. Sticky hands are not the best to be in your hair…. 

89. do you like your neighbors? I guess? I’ve not spoken to my neighbors since my next-door neighbors of 5 years moved out 5 years ago. They had kids my age, but we never really spoke. They were… not the brightest, or kindest. They once took in a stray puppy and locked it in their hot garage. My older brother and I freed it and kept it in our hallway outside our apartment, since we have emergency doors that we could close to keep him in, while we played with him. I’m allergic to dogs, though, and we have guinea pigs, so we couldn’t bring him inside our apartment. Luckily their parents got home after an hour or so and brought the dog to the shelter. They also had a different dog who kept escaping and my brother and I had to keep an eye on it often. It once got into our apartment and it was, ah. Fun. She didn’t hurt our pigs, though, so it was a plus!

90. do you wash your face? at night? in the morning? YES. Both morning and night. It has not helped my acne. 

91. have you ever been high? Nope! Not even when I got my wisdom teeth out. I was fine the minute I woke. I felt ripped off. I was a bit over tired, but no more than if I’d not slept the whole night. Maybe I’m just always in a perpetual “high” state??? 

92. have you ever been drunk? Nope! I have a high tolerance, so one or two drinks does absolutely nothing for me. And I’ve never tried more than a coupe drinks. I’m almost afraid to see myself drunk, ya know? I’m so energetic usually, but keep a lot of thoughts inside, so who knows what I’d be like. I don’t like being out of control and I honestly think I’d hate it.  

93. last thing you ate? Shrimp Scampi. From Red Lobster. ^-^

94. favorite lyrics right now Uh… Again, no real idea. I’m not good with favorite things. 

95. summer or winter? Hm. Summer, I guess? It’s not much different where I live, though we get more rain during winter. I prefer heat to cold generally, though. So summer in general. I also like summer aesthetics, you know?

96. day or night? Hm. Day, though I do love night time. I just usually am inside during the night. 

97. dark, milk, or white chocolate? Milk! I hate all other kinds of chocolate. 

98. favorite month? Do people have favorite months?? February, I guess? Since I was born in February! And it’s a rebel. Only 28 days compared to the usual 30 or 31. And sometimes it has 29. Take that, months! 

99. what is your zodiac sign Aquarius. :-D 

100. who was the last person you cried in front of? Hm… that’s a… good question… I don’t like crying in front of people. Probably my mom or dad. I tend to head off on my own when I cry, though. I don’t like people seeing me sad, ya know?

Yay!! I’m done!! This took waaaayyyy too long. I’ve been doing this for probably over 2 hours. Hope y’all learned something. Prolly that I’m uninteresting, aha. ^-^ If you made it this far without skipping, I love you. <3 If you skipped… YOU’RE DEAD TO ME! 

Ha, just kidding. ^-^

OR AM I?!?! 

:-)

[nonasuch]

thank u all for your many mosquito bite home remedies; to show my appreciation, please have 1500 more words of ben solo vs. the darkest timeline. 

continued from here and here.

For a few blissful weeks, Rose did almost nothing but eat expensive gift-basket food and work on the Falcon. It turned out things went a lot faster when someone with deep pockets green-lit all your parts requests, almost before you made them. Rose was going to have to figure out who L. Indecipherable Squiggle was, and thank them.

They got the power relays sorted out, replaced the worst of the jury-rigged repairs with permanent fixes, and finally solved the mystery of the persistent rattle in the vent nearest the fresher.

“See?” said Ben, holding up a single earring triumphantly. “Told you. It was the same earring, too, only we found it before Ma got rid of the other one.”

“Huh,” said Rose. “How deep in there was it?”

“Deep enough that he couldn’t have done it by hand,” said Rey. “Not with the hook caught in the conduits like it was. He cheated -- used the Force to find it, and to float it out.”

“You could tell what I was doing? That’s not bad,” Ben said. “And it’s not cheating, it’s using the right tool to solve the problem before me. We’re supposed to do that.”

“Seems a little frivolous,” said Rose.

“The only frivolous use of the Force is that which benefits none but he who uses it,” said Ben, in tones that made Rose think he was quoting someone, and also making fun of that someone a little bit.

Ben didn’t work on the Falcon every day, which was sort of a shame: he knew the ship better than anyone but Chewbacca, and when he was around they usually got a lot done. And he was easy to work with, surprisingly so. Especially when you considered that, according to Finn, the First Order had a permanent detail of troopers whose entire job was to clean up after Kylo Ren, every time he got a little bit upset.

Apparently Ben didn’t share that short temper, somehow. Maybe that was why he’d turned out differently.

She wondered about that, and kept wondering. It seemed terribly rude to just ask, it, flat out -- so, any thoughts on why you’re not a murderous fiend? -- but Rose couldn’t help but think about it. She kept circling around the idea: there was another universe, one where the Resistance was still strong and the Republic was still whole, and somehow the difference between there and here all hinged on one person.

Here, Ben Solo had fallen to the Dark Side, and Rose’s sister was dead. There, he hadn’t, and she wasn’t.

So she wondered. How could she not?

Once they dragged the Falcon up to basically spaceworthy, from its previous state of actively trying to fall apart, Rose found herself with new responsibilities.

“Sorry,” said Ben. “Vacation’s over, kids. The General’s got a job for you.”

“We spent five hours flushing coolant yesterday,” said Finn. “You call that a vacation?”

“Yes,” said Rose and Rey, in near-unison, with Ben a half-step behind.

But the job wasn’t all that bad, as it turned out. For a few days in a row, the General brought Rose and Finn with her to meetings and interviews, even to a couple of parties. The interviews flustered Rose a little, but it was no worse than a debriefing, even though the questions were more personal. The parties made her nervous at first, but they were nothing like the gilt-over-rot of Canto Bight. The people she met were mostly ordinary, friendly, easy to talk to. They asked about her, about how she’d ended up in the Resistance, why General Organa had brought her along, but Rose felt rude just talking about herself.

So she asked questions, too. Where were they from? What were their lives like? Had the First Order hurt them like they’d hurt Rose, and Finn, and the General, and so many others?

Certainly it wasn’t anywhere near as physically taxing as working on the Falcon. Mainly, Rose just didn’t understand why the General wanted her for it, or why it was even a job that needed doing.

When she asked, the General said, “Because I shouldn’t be the only face of the Resistance,” and Rose was still a little too intimidated by her to ask what that meant.

It was Ben who explained it. “You’re not Force-touched,” he said, “and you grew up on a planet that the First Order was grinding down to nothing. But you got out of there, and you joined up, and you spit in the First Order’s eye.”

“So did a lot of us,” Rose said. “That doesn’t make me special.”

“No, but you’re good at talking about it,” Ben said. “About why you’re fighting, why it matters. Ma needs people who can do that, and they shouldn’t all be Jedi.”

“Does that mean I can be excused?” said Finn. He tended to go very stiff and formal at the interviews, and nervous at the parties, and when he got the chance to go do Jedi things with Rey and Ben he always went with a palpable air of relief.

“Nope,” said Ben. “You used to be a stormtrooper. People need to hear what you’ve got to say. And Jedi’s not the only job in the universe for the Force-sensitive. Ma’s not a Jedi, not really, and she wants you to see how she does things.”

Which made sense, more or less. Rose thought there were probably other people who could have done it better than her, but when she tried to come up with some she remembered just how few had survived Crait, and how busy they all were. Connix was running practically their whole comms network single-handed. Poe was training new pilots as fast as they could find ships for them to fly. Rey had enough pressure on her, without adding a spotlight to it. Everyone had so much to do, while they had a reprieve to do it in.

Ben didn’t seem to have an official job, or a title. He split his time between Jedi lessons

for Rey and Finn, and taking over a lot of the day-to-day work that Connix had been doing for the General. He said it wasn’t so very different from what he did in his own universe.

“You don’t do the public stuff?” Rose asked. “The stuff you’ve got me doing?”

She’d assumed that Ben was keeping a low profile because there was a chance someone would notice that he looked like the General’s son, who was supposed to be long dead. Or the First Order’s new leader, who was supposed to be half a galaxy away, and evil.

“They don’t really need me for it,” said Ben. “And thank the Force, because I’d be awful.”

“Really?” said Rose. “It hasn’t been that bad.”

“That’s because you like people and you don’t get a lot of questions that need to be tactfully lied about,” said Ben. “I’ve been told that I take the Jedi prohibition on lying too literally, especially when the person who needs a tactful lie is annoying me. And while there isn’t a Jedi prohibition on having an awful sense of humor, Luke did threaten to enact one the last time I gave an interview. Usually I say I don’t want my personal opinions to be taken as a statement on behalf of the Jedi, and if they don’t take the hint I just leave.”

“Does that work?” said Rose.

“Not really,” said Ben. “But back home, there’s usually another Jedi around who I can shove between me and the microphone.”

He’d picked up the habit of saying that, back home, as if the universe he came from was just another homeworld, a place you could point to on a starmap and reminisce about.

She didn’t ask him do you want to go back there? Will you leave, if you can? because she thought she knew the answer. It would have been rude, anyway, just to blurt it out like that.

But he stiil read it off her, maybe in the Force, or maybe just from her face. “I do miss it,” he said. “Having someone to shove between me and the microphone.”

“Of course you do,” said Rose. She knew what he meant: not just other Jedi to shield him from the spotlight, but everything that went with that, all the people who were dead or scattered here, all the ways that things had gone right for Ben, and his version of the universe.

She couldn’t say she blamed him for wanting that. There was a Paige in his universe. “I’d be tempted to go with you, if you found a way back.”

“No you wouldn’t,” said Ben.

“What do you know about it?” Rose said, louder than she meant to. “Why not?”

She was pretty good, most of the time, at keeping her anger packed away until she needed it, but suddenly she felt like the safety catches had all snapped. Ben was from a place where nothing had ever gone wrong, not the way it had for her, for the General, for everyone who was safe and happy and alive in the other universe. Why wouldn’t she trade up, if she could?

“Because the people who need you are here,” said Ben.

And that -- that was true, unfairly so; Rose couldn’t even resent it for being true. If she left, people who needed her would be hurt. Would die, maybe. 

It occurred to Rose to wonder, for the first time, if there might be a universe where she left the Resistance, or never joined: a universe that had hinged on her, where things fell even further to pieces in her wake.

“If you go back,” Rose said, “If you find a way. Will you tell Paige about me?”

“Of course,” said Ben.

“Only good things,” said Rose.

“There’s nothing else to tell,” said Ben.

Ben said that Jedi weren’t allowed to lie. Rose only had his word for that, but she believed him.

[holidaywishes]

It Had To Be You XVI

Chapter Sixteen: Wrong

  Summary: You give in to James’ offer for an open relationship but when Tyler invites you to Vegas in May, you realize that you want something more to be going on and things take a turn.

  Author’s Note: First off, thank you all for continuing to read this series; it wasn’t something I intended to do but here we are at part sixteen!! That’s kind of insane to me, so thank you! Second, I think it’s pretty obvious that I use at least one swear word in every chapter, so this will be the last chapter I put cursing as a warning -- consider this your mega warning. Last, I think I’m liking having chapters out twice a week -- what do you think? Let me know and enjoy this chapter!

  Warning: Swearing/cursing, angst, other than that I’m not sure

  Song Credit: Wrong -- Cimorelli

  masterlist

Tyler’s P.O.V

  “WAIT! (Y/N) STOP!” you chased after the cab that was taking (Y/N) to the airport, unable to catch it. Once the car turned the corner, you slowed to a stop, putting your hands on your knees to catch your breath, “shit…;”  You breathed heavily for a moment before heading back. When you got back to the house you charged at Cassidy

  “What the hell did you do?!” Her face went white and she looked terrified

  “I called her a cab; Ty she didn’t want to be here anymore. It’s not my fault she freaked out!!”

  “You shouldn’t have called her a cab! You shouldn’t have done anything!”

  “Enough! The two of you,” Jackie shouted over you and your sister, “Tyler, something had to happen when the two of you talked. This wasn’t about your sister calling a cab. What happened?” You thought about it for a second; telling them you kissed her and she rejected you would cause all kinds of debate but there really was no other explanation…

  “I shouldn’t have kissed her…” you let slip and watched as Candace moved closer, mouth gaping slightly

  “What?!” the three said in unison and, almost immediately, began talking over each other to get answers from you.

  “STOP!” you yelled, “it didn’t mean anything to her apparently. She’s still dating James and that isn’t going to change anytime soon. I kissed her, yes, but it shouldn’t have happened. I realized that as soon as it happened…” You lied and you knew they could tell

  “Don’t lie, big brother,” Candace started, “you’ve wanted to kiss her for a while. Whether it should or shouldn’t have happened, it did. And you’re glad it did.”

  “You think I’m glad she took off that upset?”

  “Of course not,” Jackie added, “but you’re glad you finally got to kiss her. Ty, sweetie, even I can tell the two of you are so much more than ‘friends.’” Her air quotes on the last word made you raise your eyebrows slightly.

  “She’s not dating James…” Candace said finally, your eyes growing wide with concern, “I mean she is but they’re on like a break or something. She couldn’t handle the ‘open relationship’ arguments anymore so she told him they should take a break and he agreed.”

  So, that’s what she meant by technically, you thought to yourself before turning to Candace, “what does that mean?”

  “It means they’re breaking up” Cassidy said plainly, getting glares from everyone

  “That’s not necessarily what it means,” Jackie warned, “Ty, maybe you should talk to her?”

  “She doesn’t want to talk to me,” you sighed, “not after all of that…”

  “You cheated!” James yelled at you after you told him what happened with Tyler

  “No! I didn’t cheat. First of all, we’re still on this stupid break,” you chided, “second of all, I could’ve easily lied or not told you at all. You made this arrangement, this is what you wanted…” He was silent for a minute, “I told you this would happen. I told you you’d get all weird and angry and possessive. He kissed me, I pulled away. I’m telling you the truth because I care about you and I thought you deserved to know.”

  “You said nothing would ever happen between the two of you because you didn’t want to ruin the friendship…” he retaliated

  “And nothing happened” you reflected on the night you left, seeing him chase you down and the look on his face when he realized he couldn’t stop the cab.

  “(Y/N)? What does this mean for us?” James asked, “where do we stand?” You shrugged. You really weren’t sure where you stood, you were still angry at him for everything and you were reeling from everything that happened last year -- this was just one more thing to add to the pile.

  “I think we should go back to the therapist,” you said after a couple minutes, “tell him that we tried… something. Maybe having someone objective will help us understand where we went wrong?” He nodded and a few days later you were sitting in your therapists office, trying to calmly tell him that the two of you were on a break but it took all of five minutes before the two of you were at each other's throats again.

  “Okay.. okay!” the therapist yelled over the two of you, “let me add in my two cents here. I appreciate that the two of you tried to ‘reconcile,’ that you tried to work something out; but it clearly didn’t work. (Y/N), I know you said you didn’t want an open relationship, can we discuss that further? It would help James know why you keep rejecting the proposition.” You thought you had explained earlier in the session but you explained again, hoping to bring clarity to how you were feeling but, as you spoke, you noticed the annoyance on James’ face and the confusion on the therapists’ so, you changed your tune.

  “I had a second to think about it, though, and maybe an open relationship would make us stronger. Especially, if there were rules…”

  “Of course there would be rules!” James shouted in excitement, “babe, are you serious?” The smile on his face was so big, it broke your heart; you mustered out a fake smile and a small voice came out

  “Yes, I’m serious. I wouldn’t have said it if I weren’t serious…”

  “Well, see,” your therapist chimed in, “that wasn’t so difficult. I’m glad you thought it over and agreed to give it a chance. I think this will be so good for you two.” The session ended shortly after that, leaving James with a giant smile on his face and you to just blow off any concerns you had for now. The next few weeks were fine; James had only actually seen Freddy a couple times and he was honest with you about it so it felt like you two were communicating again. You were so busy with your internship that you honestly didn’t have time to think about the two of them. But by the time May rolled around, and you got an invite from Tyler to go to Vegas, you started stressing.

  “Jesse and Melissa are going and I think they’re sick of me third wheeling lol”

  “I can’t, Ty”

  “Is this about what happened?”

  “No, I just can’t”

  “(Y/N) please, I want to see you again and explain. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you”

  “I’m just busy with work, Ty, I can’t drop everything for what? Two weeks in Vegas? Sorry, I can’t”

  “I’m sorry but I have a hard time believing this is just about work”

  “Fine. You caught me. It’s not just about work; it’s primarily about work, but maybe not completely about it”

  “I knew it!”

  “I wouldn’t be too proud of yourself. Tyler, what happens if I go to Vegas with you? What if you try something again? I honestly never thought I’d say this but I don’t want to give you the wrong idea…”

  “Nothing will happen I swear”

  “How can you swear?”

  “Don’t you trust me?”

  “🤨”

  “You can trust that I won’t do anything. I’ll even let you be my wing man for the trip… Wing person?”

  “Fine, when do you leave?”

  “Tomorrow?”

  “Well fuck Tyler…”

  “I believe in you. You can get down there”

  “You’re going to make me look super unprofessional you know?”

  “Nah, come up with a lie. They won’t even know. I know how to keep a low profile, I’ll teach you.”

  “🙄”

  You emailed your boss saying something came up with your family in Nova Scotia and had to take a red eye there and you weren’t sure when you were going to be back. You felt like a shit intern but you also weren’t opposed to a trip to Vegas randomly in the summer with your friend. Before you knew it, you were in McCarran International waiting for Tyler to pick you up to bring you back to the hotel; you found out very soon that he wasn’t kidding about you being his wing woman.

  “You know I’ve never talked anyone up before right?” you said to Tyler as the two of you sat at the bar, surveying the crowd, “what am I even supposed to say?���

  “Tell ‘em how awesome I am” he joked and you tilted your head, rolling your eyes

  “What like ‘ladies, he’s got great stamina,’ do you want me to tell them that you’re a professional athlete too?”

  “No. Let’s not. Or wait, maybe,” you raised your eyebrows in shock before he clarified, “no no, just to weed out the bad ones”

  “Isn’t Vegas where you want ‘bad’?” you questioned and he smiled

  “You really are going to be terrible at this. Here just say ‘have you met my friend Tyler?’ and watch me work.” You took a sip of your way-too-expensive cocktail and waited until he pointed out a girl he liked; once he found one, you reluctantly went to talk to her.

  “Hey ladies,” you went up to the group of modelesque girls, “my friend would like to meet you, he’s just the one over at the bar. With the hat I could not convince him to take off.” You laughed, they laughed, they agreed to meet him, it was fine. Until they actually got to him.

  “Oh my god!” one of the girls shouted, “you’re Tyler fucking Seguin!” Your mouth just dropped open and your head fell to your hands; hitting your forehead in disbelief.

  “Yep, that’s me…” was his only response and the girls just started fawning over him, “nice to meet you.” You leaned over them to get to the bar and order another drink, grabbing it promptly when it was in front of you.

  “He’ll pay,” you nodded to Tyler, “I’m gonna leave you guys to it, if you need me I’ll be dancing.” Part of you knew you were being stupid. He wanted you to be his wing woman, this was going to happen one way or another. You just didn’t think it’d happen that fast. And you didn’t want to be around to witness the inevitable ego stroking that would come out of their mouths. Five hours later, you were drunk and dancing with some stranger who kept telling you you’d look good in his shirt.

  “Does that actually work?” you slurred, “I mean really? I bet you’d look good in my shirt?” You could see him take offence but he was also incredibly drunk so, he didn’t seem to make a big deal with it. Afterward, you realized that conversation could’ve gone two ways and you were lucky it went the way it did. You stumbled back to the hotel room before realizing you didn’t have the room key, so you knocked continuously on Tyler’s door until he answered.

  “Shut up! Fuck, rela-”

  “TYLER! I got locked out of my room,” you mumbled as you pointed to the door across the hall, “so.. I need somewhere to sleep. Can I sleep here?” You pushed past him to the couch before he had a chance to answer.

  “Shhhh!” he tried to quiet you, “people are trying to sleep”

  “Oh my god!” you dramatically whispered, “is someone here? Did you actually take one of those girls from the bar back here?”

  “(Y/N), seriously be quiet. These walls are painfully thin”

  “YOU DID! And your neighbours heard you!!” you laughed for a second before he rushed over to you to put a hand over your mouth

  “I swear to god!” You stared at him for a second, his eyes were angry but his face showed worry, “I need you to be quiet right now okay?”

  “What’s going on?” you whispered

  “Yes. I brought a girl back to the room but nothing happened. And she won’t leave. She’s kind of psycho,” you stepped back in fake shock with your mouth gaped open, “I know surprising right? But I’m serious, if she sees or hears you, she will attack.”

  “Okay, I have to sleep here though. What’s gonna happen when she sees me in the morning?”

  “Don’t be here when she wakes up..”

  “Grow some balls, Seguin!” you covered your mouth after you saw Tyler’s eyes go wide, “sorry.” He led you over to the couch after grabbing an extra blanket from the closet, laying it over you when you laid down.

  “Ty, I’m sorry,” you said weakly as he tucked you in, “I got so drunk tonight and may have made a bigger idiot of myself than I wanted to. Aaaaannnnddd for what happened in Brampton. My life is complicated and you don’t deserve to be dragged into that. But I reacted wrong, just bad.” He shushed you and tucked a hair behind your ear, cupping your face in his hand; you held his hand there for a second, looking at him, waiting for him to say something but your eyes were heavy and he was silent for too long.

  “It’s okay, (Y/N),” he started as you drifted off to sleep, “I probably shouldn’t have kissed you, it’s not that I didn’t want to, because obviously I did, I just sh-- (Y/N)?” You felt him kiss your head lightly but you were so tired that opening your eyes just wasn’t going to happen. The next morning, you crept up and out of Tyler’s room to sit outside your door and wait for the maid, before the psycho girl saw you, only sitting down for five minutes before she came out and gave you an embarrassed smile. You couldn’t really remember what happened last night but you hoped it wasn’t too embarrassing, just then Tyler popped his head out into the hallway.

  “She gone?!” he whispered to you

  “Just left. What happened?”

  “With her or with us?”

  “What do you mean with us?”

  “Relax, I’m kidding!” he smiled, “I did want to talk to you though.” Hearing him say that freaked you out a little but you nodded signalling him to continue.

  “I don’t know what’s going on in your relationship and you don’t have to tell me about it,” he put out his hands to stress his point, “but what happened at the funeral.. I was out of line. I’m sorry.” He sat down next to you and you put your head on his shoulder.

  “I gotta go home, Ty,” you said, looking up at him briefly, “figure my life out. I told James we should take a break and he agreed and it just complicated things. I told him what happened at the funeral and he got all weird, like he tends to do you know. And he just, he was never going to be happy. So I agreed to the stupid open relationship. But it’s not who I am. I don’t know how to do it; I thought I could. But I don’t know how to be good enough for him to want me.”

  “Hey, no, don’t do that,” Tyler wrapped his arm around you, planting a soft kiss on your head, “you’re amazing and if he doesn’t see that, that’s on him. His loss. You are way too good for him.” You pulled your head off his shoulder to look at him, his eyes so sincere you just about melted, yours darting between his eyes and his lips, your breathing becoming shallow. He seemed to catch on relatively quick and held your stare for a minute before leaning in slightly, pressing his lips to yours tentatively; you kissed him back just as gently, adjusting only for a second to bring your hand up to cup his face before he pulled away.

  “We can’t…” Tyler whispered

  “I know…”

  “But I want to” he said and you laid a quick kiss to his cheek and got up to walk down to the desk to grab a key for your room since the maid hadn’t come yet.

  “I have to go home…” you said and he looked down at his lap, nodded his head pathetically and let you go.

  The plane touched down in Calgary and you sat in your seat for way too long.

  “Miss? Miss?” the attendant called

  “Huh?” you were shaken out of your daze, “I’m sorry..” You got up rather quickly and rushed off the plane toward the cabs outside. As the cab drove you home, you wondered if you should tell James about the kiss -- it would only be fair right? He had told you about Freddy, this was supposed to bring you two together wasn’t it? Maybe telling him would make him see that you were fine with an open relationship; even if you weren’t.

  “James?” you called out and he turned into the living room from the kitchen

  “Hey, how was Vegas? I wasn’t expecting you home so soon…”

  “Vegas was… Vegas,” you shifted against the door frame, “I… danced with a stranger when I was drunk and he was super weird. I got a little too drunk… I kissed Tyler…” His eyes went wide for a second and then normalized, you couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

  “Why?”

  “Why did I kiss him?”

  “Why did it have to be him?”

  “That was your one and only rule. You have Freddy, I have Tyler. No one else. That’s what you said”

  “And you said you’d never do anything with Tyler!!”

  “Because I never thought I would!!” you were face-to-face with James, occasionally standing on your tiptoes to prove some kind of point, “this just happened. It didn’t go further than a kiss”

  “A kiss is never just a kiss remember?”

  “DON’T YOU DARE! This kiss wasn’t about him and me, it was about you! It’s always about you! How you get so bent out of shape about the same issues but won’t compromise. How you make everything into some weird competition because you always got what you want growing up. How you made everything about you this past year.”

  “YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE KISSED HIM!”

  “WHY THE HELL NOT?!” He stayed silent again, his face still bright red from yelling, “you get to be with someone else but I just have to pine over you my whole life?”

  “Hold on, that’s not what I’m saying..”

  “Then what are you saying? Because I’m pretty damn confused, James”

  “I just.. Why couldn’t you have found someone else. Tyler wouldn’t even be interested in you if it weren’t for me”

  “What are you talking about?!”

  “If I hadn’t made him part of that video, if I hadn’t been working,”

  “Fucking hookers you mean?” you interrupted

  “Working,” he continued, raising a finger at you, “you never would’ve spent as much time with him as you did. You never would’ve developed any feelings for him. He never would’ve seen you as anything other than the girl he met at a charity event.”

  “Why do you think you’re so powerful? Why do you think you have any bearing on what happens in everyone’s life?”

  “You’re deflecting”

  “I’m not! I’m asking you a question. You cannot honestly think that anything Tyler feels for me, or I feel for him, is because of you, can you? Can you really be that self-righteous?”

  “About this I can!”

  “I can’t do this anymore!! I have tried. I have tried to be exactly what you want, what you need. Through everything, I have wanted to make us work because I loved you and I loved who we were together but I can’t do this anymore. I’m so tired of changing and putting on some kind of mask so you can believe that I’m perfect. I’m so tired of trying and not getting anywhere, of you not trying, not giving an inch. I’m just tired of always being wrong in your eyes. I will never be able to do right by you and I can’t take it anymore!” you fell back against the wall, soft sobs falling from your mouth, “I’m sorry James, I just… can’t do this anymore. I deserve more than waiting for you to love me the way I loved you.”

  “(Y/N),” he called as you walked into the bedroom, slamming the door and packing a bag, “don’t do this. You’re upset, this is just going to blow over. I promise you --”

  “Enough! Enough with your god damn promises and your pretty words. I don’t want them anymore. I didn’t want them when I left for Scotland, I didn’t want them after my friend almost died and I don’t want them now! What I want now, what I need, is not to hurt anymore. I want to be happy again. I want to be in love again. I want to wake up at six AM and not feel exhausted from arguing until midnight the night before. I want my life to go back to normal; when open relationships weren’t a part of my daily routine. I’m sorry, I am, this is not how I wanted things to end. But I just can’t do it anymore.” You waited for him to argue with you more but when he didn’t, you realized he wasn’t going to stop you from leaving; you grabbed the few bags and told him you’d be back when he wasn’t there to pick them up.

  “Okay..” he shrugged and you scoffed

  “So, this is really how it’s going to end? Four years and you’re just going with ‘okay?’”

  “What am I supposed to say?”

  “Something.. anything”

  “I don’t want you to go”

  “Anything except that”

  “Well then I guess I have to stick with okay”

  You took a deep breath and your head dropped, “okay…”

  “Wait!” he stopped you before you walked out the door, your hand still on the knob, “whatever happens next for you, I hope you find the happiness you’re looking for.” You tilted your head to the side; where was this guy 15 minutes ago?

  “Thank you James, I hope you find happiness too” you smiled and he smiled back

  “Goodbye (Y/N)..” he said softly

  “Goodbye James.”

[bmichael]

Cold Takes

You need something extra after you drag yourself out of bed at 450am in a polar vortex to go to the gym long before sunrise. So I was honestly delighted this morning to see a new Chuck Klosterman - Bill Simmons podcast posted.

I’ve had an up-and-down relationship to reading and listening to these two. Growing up, I was a sponge for their ideas, then as a more mature person I outright rejected and ridiculed them, and now as we’re all more or less adults I can relate to their thoughts in a probably more considered way.

Simmons was in the news recently because of this WSJ profile of The Ringer and him that mentioned, among other things, that the Ringer makes around $15MM a year on ad and podcast revenue. Now, I saw some sports blogs and twitter users throw this number around as if it were large. And it’s not zero, but it’s not really a large revenue figure for a media network with you’ve got to figure at least 50 staffers (it launched with 43 and has grown) based in LA. He’s a businessman and a business, man (I will retire that phrase now) but it’s definitely still a pretty small business.

So the podcast. I started listening to it as I went through my usual deadlift-squat-rows day -- not super fun but not the worst (squats-focused is the worst) and found it pretty entertaining. I don’t really care about Tony Romo’s announcing one way or the other and I thought they both circled around some pretty un-nuanced ideas re: basketball offenses. (Is the best offense just having James Harden try to score every play or pass -- maybe?! Three pointers and dunks are really good -- whoa, great point!)

There’s one relevant point to this ramble where they’re talking about the different Fyre Festival docs and what being an influencer means. Neither seems to have a strong grasp on the term. Simmons focuses on it qua job or activity, where you get paid to endorse something while Klosterman sees it more as an Aristotelian category. Neither correctly assesses it as a figure in the culture with great-than-zero brand recognition and a role within the capitalist-media complex to generate added revenue for someone or something and not always yourself. Ie, they’re both influencers, but neither seems to consider this.

(This point sort of comes up later tangentially and unnoticed when Klosterman laments his latest book dealing with all these things currently being made into films and documentaries while he got none of the credit...)

At the 1:15 mark Simmons brings up the movie Green Book and its unfair treatment thus far. Now, in the last podcast with Wesley Morris, Simmons talks about how he likes Green Book and thinks the movie works just fine while simultaneously reading the wikipedia page for the concept of the magic negro (really, he does this). He’s coming from a place of really liking the movie and attributing to it (or to his enjoyment of the movie, maybe more precisely) a nobody-believes-in-us type of moral gumption and gravity.

My reading of Simmons in the last two podcasts is that the movie’s embattled status as controversial and under fire by parts of the media pisses him off slightly and makes him want to see it succeed. In this equation, Green Book is the 2019 Patriots and Simmons treats it accordingly.

So Simmons says to Klosterman (almost a direct quote, but I don’t have time to go back and re-listen. It’s at 1:15:30-ish)

unless you satisfy all these different demographics, a piece of art will be rejected

He doesn’t clarify what “different demographics” he means, but I’m taking him to mean black people, primarily. He perhaps also means young people and/or woke twitter warriors. Simmons continues, saying that he thinks art “should make you think”.

By itself, I found this point uproariously out of touch and wrong, but Simmons kind of continues to sort of tease this point out with Klosterman. I’m saying “continues to sort of tease” not because I write in a folksy, casual style but because he really doesn’t seem to have an argument or single point of view in mind, and this is what I found so fascinating by this part of the podcast.

(Klosterman, for his part, doesn’t really say much about Simmons’ comments except that he grew up in a different era and understands he has a POV or prejudices implicitly that he cannot control.)

So a little later, Simmons brings up the movie Cruising, which I have not seen, but he says is very good. Apparently, its a “ 1980 erotic crime thriller film written and directed by William Friedkin and starring Al Pacino” about a serial killer targeting gay men. Simmons brings this movie up to make the point that people are much more easily mobilized these days (so insightful...) and to say, further, that if the movie were released today it would have been boycotted heavily and possibly not released.

I find this to be a laughable take, but he goes on to say something very revealing in response to something Klosterman says. Chuck says that if Cruising were made in 2019, maybe it would be made by a gay director and/or have a gay star. And Simmons is like, oh so they’d anticipate these issues and get out in front of the controversy.

This was so revealing to me because it snaps into focus a few different domains Simmons occupies and shows he almost ‘code switches’ his thought process, unconsciously, depending on whatever ghost of a coherent thought happens to be haunting his mind in a given moment.

This is clearly Simmons the producer and media mogul. He wants to get this movie, Crusing, made in 2019. Logistically, he knows certain demographics will boycott the film and maybe prevent it from being released.

(By the way, there have been some movies prevented from being released, generally on the basis of a moral panic, but the most recent one I can think of is the Woody Allen Louis CK one which, who the fuck would want to see that anyway? I’m sure it would ‘make you think’... that CK and Allen are pieces of shit.)

This is not really a great place to come from as a critic or even person who runs the Ringer media empire. Speaking to the latter, obviously the Ringer is a vehicle to make money for its owners, but it does seem to have a more coherent, somewhat woke new media 3.0 purpose that’s not 100% cynical in the vein of, ‘hey cast a gay actor for this homophobic film so that it won’t get boycotted’. For the former, sure it would be something you’d note and maybe write about, but would it really ‘make you think’? It would make me think that the movie was a cynical piece of shit floating in the homophobic toilet bowl of American culture.

Drawing back even further, it just goes to show me at least that the majority of influencers in this apparently lamentable influencer culture still don’t really consider themselves influencers. The sort of way saying someone’s a “white male” is kind of offensive because it creates this contre-pied cognitive step where a white man actually has to identify as a subgroup of humanity and not the default setting, as it were, and realize that he has discursive and political motivations that aren’t just ‘natural law’ or something and are generally around to further his demographic’s self-interests.

Simmons constantly spouts this backward, establishment-protecting bullshit when it comes to entertainment - and with regard to everything else. The one arguably moral stand he took, to badmouth Roger Goodell on his ESPN podcast, had the effect of making him more famous and gave his flagging outsider status a little more life, allowing him to pivot to the Ringer. He and his site still slavishly cover football, despite making jokes (I guess?) about CTE and concussions.

There is not a large conclusion to all this except to get my thoughts out there. Like, I don’t think Simmons is evil or anything, but he’s totally unaware of his biases -- the same as anyone, I know.

It just galls me that I think he thinks he’s this establishment-wrecking poster boy for new media when he’s just the same old self-congratulatory, now-middle-aged white guy holding back progress in the name of art or a sophisticated critical view when it’s really about the bottom line and protecting conservative values.

[sparrowjaywrites]

Survive We Shall (Chapter 01: What Tomorrow Brings)

Disclaimer: All recognizable Characters, places, and plots belong to those who own the copyright for Walking Dead and Criminal Minds respectfully such as AMC and Robert Kirkman, I do not know all their names.

All new characters such as Kat, The Takers, and Kat’s original group belong to me. Please do not use them or my storyline without my permission.

Warnings:

           This story will contain foul language, nudity, sexual content, graphic violence, mentions of sexual assault, death, abuse, mentions of domestic abuse, partial depictions of sexual assault, depictions of domestic abuse, torture, suicide, depictions of suicidal thoughts, self-harm, PTSD, flash backs and much more.

           Each Chapter will have its own trigger warnings directly below this warning at the start please use these to protect yourself while you read. If there are any issues regarding this please PM me.

Standing Warnings for All Chapters: (These Warnings are used so frequently it is pointless to add them by specific chapter.

           Gore, Graphic Violence, Death, Swearing

Chapter Warnings:

           -See Standing Warnings Above-

AN:

           I started working on this story not long after season nine of Walking Dead started airing in October 2018. This story is technically a crossover between Walking Dead and Criminal Minds but the Criminal Minds characters do not actually come in besides a phone call in this chapter and mentions for at least the first 50 + chapters.

           This story is pre-written through chapter 7 and I will be posting two chapters a week for the time being. The story is structured into chapters with specific themes and story beats. Every chapter will start and end with a quote like an episode of Criminal Minds does.

          This story is also posted on my Fanfiction.net account: Creative Heart 1997, and on my A03 account: Kat_Jay_Sparrow

           With that all out of the way, enjoy the show!

Survive We Shall

Season One

Episode 01: What Tomorrow Brings

---Line Break---

           “And that’s the thing. The day before your whole life changes, forever, it feels just like any other day.” – Unknown

           Kat hummed as she walked around her kitchen making her dinner, roast beef, potatoes, onions, and gravy. Not the healthiest meal, but one of her favorites. For desert a slice of cheesecake. She’d spent the day watching shows on Netflix while working on her next book; the fourth and final instalment of the Silver Star Chronicles.

           ‘How’s the book coming?’ Kat glances at her phone reading the text from her older brother.

           ‘Good, how’s the case?’

           ‘Finished, we’re headed back to DC now. I can’t wait to sleep.’ Kat snorts at the sleeping emoji her brother adds to the end of the text. She’d recently convinced him to get a smart phone and he’d been attempting to use them whenever possible ever since.

           ‘Sleep well, Spence.’ She sends him a heart emoji and gets back to her food. Spencer lived in DC and worked for the FBI as a criminal profiler, a member of the Behavioral Analysis Unit or BAU. He’d been working there for over thirteen years now, over half of Kat’s life. She finishes her dinner settling in to finish bingeing Merlin again.

           Around six in the morning the ringing of her phone woke her. Kat blinks and rolls over with a groan ignoring the phone for a moment before sighing and picking it up.

           “Hello?”

           “Kat? Something’s happening, something bad. I need you to get to DC, as soon as you can. Pack what you want; you may not be home for a very long time. Please catch the next flight out!” Spencer’s terrified voice begs. Kat sits up in her bed putting her glasses on and glancing at her clock.

           “Spencer what’s going on?”

           “I’ll explain when you get here, just… get here.”

           “Okay, I’ll catch the next flight.” Kat agrees the fear in her brother’s voice scaring her. Spencer Reid did not scare easily, over a decade in the job he had made sure of that. So for him to sound so terrified was a bad sign.

           “Call me when you land, one of the team will pick you up. Oh, bring your gun. I love you, Katrina.”

           “I love your too, Spencer, see you in a few hours.” Kat hangs up the phone pausing to take a breath looking around her room. She takes a breath and stands rushing to pack. She grabs a duffle bag stuffing her gun and her ammo in it, she pauses before grabbing her bow locking it in its case and stuffing it and her arrows in her duffle bag as well. If she needed her gun it may come in handy, who knows, plus if she wasn’t coming back she’d want it with her. Rossi would let her practice on his property like when she was a teenager she was sure. She adds her pocket knife and Swiss army knives to the bag before dropping it by the top of the stairs.

           Next was her star trek messenger bag, her laptop, IPod, Nintendo Switch, IPad, and kindle went in there along with the cords, her spare headphones, and her phone cord. She added her sketch books, pencils, and notebooks. Her backpack was next, her favorite pictures being pulled from the walls and taken from their frames to be placed in a Ziploc baggy inside along with her favorite photo album, a Ziploc full of jewelry from her mom or members of Spencer’s team growing up, a small black stuffed cat Spencer had given her for her fifth birthday named Midnight, her high school diploma and Bachelor’s degree in creative writing, and finally the first printed copies of each of her books, seven in total.

           Last was her suit case where she tossed a few pairs of shoes, all her clean socks, underwear, and bras. A few jackets, a few pairs of jeans, shorts, t-shirts, long sleeved shirts, and tank tops. She tossed in her Harry Potter, Twilight, and Edgar Allen Poe books. Lastly she added her first aid kit, and her fifteen pairs of glasses. Kat had taken to owning a lot of different styles of glasses to go with her different outfits, something she’d picked up from Penelope a women who worked with her brother who’d been like an older sister to her since she’d met her.

           Kat pulls out her phone booking the next flight leaving for DC, frowning when the only one available before noon had a layover in Texas. She shakes her head booking the first class ticket and calling a cab. The last thing she wanted to do was leave her truck in airport parking if she didn’t know how long she’d be gone. It being the middle of the week SeaTac was surprisingly more busy than normal; the place was packed with people. Kat quickly got her boarding pass moving to check her bags, having flown with her gun enough times to know the drill.

           Kat got in line. After almost twenty minutes the woman checking bags took a call then shut down her station. Kat watched in confusion as all the terminal’s shut down. People began whispering around her.

           “Attention the state of Washington has just entered a state of emergency. Bags are no longer being checked, if we call your flight number please move to the front and you will be taken to your plane to board; please take your luggage with you. Security measures are being lifted. Thank you.”

           “What the fuck?” Kat mutters as people around her begin to panic.

           “Flight 354 to New York.” Kat watches as people join a worried looking flight attendant who leads them away a few minutes later. “Flight 356 to DC with layover in Houston?” Kat glances at her boarding pass then approaches the flight attendant who glances at her pass before nodding.

           “Uh, I have a gun and permit to carry. I normally check it, what do I do now?” Kat asks her before they head out.

           “It doesn’t matter, keep it on you. We’ve been told to just get everyone on the plane and out. The military showed up twenty minutes ago giving orders, apparently the whole country is under martial law.” The woman says as she begins leading Kat and around twenty others to their boarding gate. Kat shares a worried look with those around her. Before long they are all standing outside the gate, two soldiers stand by the doors asking people questions as they board, something about bites?

           “Ma’am has anyone attacked and or bitten or scratched you in the past twenty four hours?” Kat raises an eyebrow.

           “No… What’s going on?”

           “Please board the plane, Ma’am.” The soldier won’t look her in the eye, though she catches a look of fear before he looks away. Kat sighs but boards taking her seat. She puts her suitcase on the floor in front of the seat beside hers; knowing it won’t fit in the overhead or it was unlikely too and it certainly wouldn’t fit under the seat. She puts her messenger bag, backpack, and duffle bag on the seat with her purse on top. Kat leans her head into the aisle counting around thirty people seated in the normal section; two other people were seated in first class with her so far. Ten more people board before the doors are closed. Their where only around forty passengers it seemed, on a jet that would normally fit at least a hundred and fifty, probably more.

           “Attention passengers this is your captain speaking, please take your seats and prepare for takeoff, safety procedures will be explained once we are at cruising altitude, thank you.” Kat buckles her belt shooting a quick text to Spencer as they taxi onto the runway.

           ‘On plane, something is up, bags where not checked, they had me board with my luggage over an hour before the flight was to take off. They had me board without checking my gun even after I told them about it! They said something about martial law and a state of emergency. What is going on? We’re taking off without safety warnings, there where soldiers asking us if we’d been bitten or scratched as we boarded. I’ll text you once I have Wi-Fi and can.’

           Kat sits back in her seat staring out the window as they reach the runway; she leans over her bags to watch out the window as they take off. As they climb her view of the city widens, her stomach drops as she sees pillars of smoke rising from downtown, and what appear to be military helicopters flying that way. What the fuck was happening? Where they under attack?

           “Attention passengers this is your captain speaking, we have now reached cruising altitude, we should be reaching Houston in approximately four hours. Flight attendants will be by with drinks after they finish their safety instructions. Thank you for flying Alaska.” Kat shakes her head, why wasn’t anyone telling them anything?

           Three hours later a high pitched scream in the back of the plane dragged her attention away from her book. Kat spins around in her seat looking down her aisle along with most of the planes passengers, near the back of the plane two people had jumped up and pulled a woman from her seat. Kat unbuckles sprinting down the aisle to see a woman with what appeared to be a large bite out of the side of her shoulder. A deep guttural growling could be heard from her seat now that she was no longer screaming.

           Suddenly the woman tore herself from the men and dived back into the seat a moment later she was sitting on the floor of the aisle holding a small child in her arms as he struggled. The boy was clawing at his mother and clearly attempting to bite her again, it took Kat a moment to realize the inhuman growling was coming from the boy. One of the men leaned down to tried to pull the boy back; the boy turned his head to look at the man, Kat catching the blood smeared around the boy’s mouth even from where she was.

           “What the fuck!” The man attempts to jump back as the boy suddenly latches onto his arm and bites down viciously, tearing a chunk of skin and muscle from his arm, chewing then swallowing. Kat stumbles back in horror as people quickly back away from the boy and the now screaming man. The woman is trying to yell over the man, she pulls the boy back into her arms, trying to restrain him.

           A few seconds later the mother is dragged back from the child from behind by another passenger. As soon as she losses her grip the boy is up and stumbling down the aisle towards a woman who was leaning around the edge of her seat to look. She moves to pull back just as the boy reaches her sinking his teeth into her neck, her garbled scream joining the other horrified screams and yelling throughout the plane.

           The screams all cut off as if muted when the deafening crack of gunshot has all eyes moving from the boy to a man standing behind the mother in the aisle. Kat’s eyes flicker back to the boy… or more correctly the body of the boy lying only around fifteen feet in front of her. The woman he’d attacked was hanging out of her seat motionless, blood dripping onto the boy’s corpse.

           “NO! No, not my baby, no!” The mother shrieks. The man holding her back lets her go stumbling into the middle row of seats. The man with the gun lowers it looking a bit ill.

           “I’m Jacob Moore, air marshal.” He holds up his credentials, not that Kat could read them from where she was. “I’m sorry Ma’am but your boy was infected… I didn’t have a choice.”

           “Infected?” A man standing in the other aisle of the plane asks looking confused.

           “You… You killed my boy… my Bradley…” The mother shouts stumbling to her feet towards Moore.

           “How many of you saw the news this morning?” Three hands go up. Moore sighs running a hand through his hair. “There’s some kind of virus going around, once infected people die… they die and then they come back… they come back from the dead and eat people… like zombies, but real.” He explains his face completely serious.

           “Is that why the soldiers were asking us about bites?” A woman asks fearfully, a young toddler clutched in her arms.

           “Yes.”

           “You killed my boy!” The mother had approached Moore without anyone really noticing, or if they had they hadn’t said anything. She suddenly punches him dead in the face; snatching his gun from his belt she aims it at him as she backs herself into the row of seats behind her until her back hits the window.

           “Ma’am he was already dead, please drop the gun.” Moore pleads from his spot on the ground slowly standing up his hands held in front of him as blood trickles down his face. The woman glares at him then presses the gun against the plane window. Kat freezes in place as her eyes widen.

           “Your all with him, he killed my boy but your listening to him.” She mutters crazily. If she pulled that trigger the plane would depressurize and they would all die.

           “Ma’am please, you’ll kill us all, yourself included.” Moore pleads his eyes wide. Kat backs down the aisle until she reaches her seat, she glances at her stuff her eyes landing on her duffle bag… she had good aim… maybe? Kat slides into her seat and slips her gun from her duffle bag quickly checking it was loaded before standing up and slowly moving down the aisle of the plane. The woman was muttering to herself now, her finger firmly on the trigger. Kat keeps the gun at her side as she gets closer. She stops a few feet from the kid’s body not willing to get too close.

           Kat grabs a magazine from the seat beside her and waves it to get Moore’s attention he glances at her. She moves the gun so he can see it and nods to the woman. Moore stares at her for a moment then nods.

           “If you don’t drop the gun we won’t have a choice but to hurt you Ma’am.” Kat takes a breath raising the gun as the woman turns to look at Moore as he talks. She flicks off the safety and lines up the shot.

           “I’ll kill all of you! You killed my Bradley. Mommy’s coming baby.” She raises the gun to the window again. Kat pulls the trigger. The woman slumps to the ground, blood spraying the wall and seats behind her. Moore quickly moves forward retrieving his gun as people scream. Kat turns back on her safety lowering her gun as she stares at it… she just killed a woman.

           “Thank you, Miss, what’s your name?” Moore approaches her slowly; he steps over the boy placing a hand over hers on her gun. Kat looks up at his face blinking the world seeming to disappear around her, her vision tunneling to focus only on him and the gun in her hand.

           “Kat, er Katrina Reid.”

           “You did well, Kat. Why don’t we sit down, alright?” Moore takes the gun from her hand and leads her back to her seat… how did he know which was her seat? “Kat you need to breathe slower, follow my breathes… Kat?” Moore said something more but she couldn’t make it out as the world spun around her suddenly going dark.

---Line Break---

           Kat blinked, her eyes slowly adjusting to the light around her. Someone was patting her cheek; her eyes focus the memories of the last ten minutes coming back to her all at once. Moore smiles as she blinks up at him.

           “Welcome back, do you know where you are?” Kat nods sitting up straighter and looking around. She can hear people crying and talking throughout the plane. The two other first class passengers are both standing peering over at her from the middle row of seats.

           “I shot someone…” Kat whispers feeling like she was going to be sick.

           “You saved us.” A man with greying silvery short hair from first class speaks up.

           “You did.” Moore agrees.

           “Here you are Ma’am.” A flight attendant hands her a glass of water shakily. Kat takes it with a shaky nod of her own.

           “Where’d you learn to shoot like that?”

           “My brothers taught me… they’re FBI agents…” Kat says quietly.

           “I’m going to give you this back, please put it away.” Moore hands her, her gun. Kat puts it in her duffle bag zipping it closed.

           “Attention passengers, we would like to ask everyone in economy class in seats A and B to please move to seats behind row twenty and in front of row fifteen. Thank you. Please follow Air Marshal Moore and the Flight Attendants orders; we will hopefully be landing soon.” The captain comes on the intercom.

           “I’m going to go calm people down.” Moore pats her arm giving a nod to the other two people in first class before moving into the back of the plane. Kat sits in her seat staring at the seat in front of her sipping the water to keep from puking.

           “Attention passengers, I’m sorry to say we will not be landing in Houston… it seems the airport is not responding. We will be continuing directly to DC.” Kat turns to look at the silver haired man a few seats away from her.

           “That can’t be good.” He mutters with a shake of his head. Kat shakes her head mutely. The plane should hold enough fuel to make it to DC… but that was only if they’d been fully fueled before taking off, and with their rush to send planes out the chances of that where slim. Kat pulls out her phone connecting to the inflight Wi-Fi. A strange sound behind her catches her attention before she can dial. She turns around in her seat her face paling as she sees the woman the boy had bitten moving. The same guttural growls the boy had been making issuing from her lips as she attempts to reach for a woman a few seats in front of hers.

           “Moore!” Kat yells unbuckling quickly and jumping to her feet. Moore quickly runs into the first class slipping between the seats to move to her aisle from the other one.

           “What? What is it?” Kat points at the woman… or corpse. Its eyes where clouded, face pale from the blood lose from having the boy biting out its neck.

           “Oh shit, she was bit. Does anyone have a knife?” He calls looking around. Kat nods turning and quickly pulling her pocket knife from her bag and handing it to him.

           “How many weapons do you have?”

           “Five… gun, pocket knife, bow, and two Swiss army knives.” Kat answers with a shrug. “My brother called me panicked and said to get to DC that something was happening and to bring my gun… my brother doesn’t panic. So I brought my gun… plus some.” Kat was surprised by how calm she felt… she wasn’t sure if she was going back into shock or if her emotions where too overloaded at that point to work or what, but despite her fear she was calming down.

           “Well we’re all lucky you came prepared.” Moore snorts and moves swiftly up to the corpse. It grabs at his clothing while he grabs the top of its head forcing it’s face down against the armrest while he stabs it in the back of the head at the base of the skull. The corpse slumps down, dead… again.

           “The mother was bitten too… Will she… turn?” Kat asks not completely sure what word to use.

           “No you shot her in the head… what I saw on TV seemed to suggest that if you kill the brain these things stay dead.” Moore cleans off the knife with the woman’s shirt before handing it back to her. Kat stares at it before nodding slowly and putting it back in her bag. Kat sits back down picking back up her phone she quickly dials Spencer’s number.

           “Hello? Kat?”

           “Spencer, what the fuck is going on? The air marshal said there is some kind of virus going around… It kills people then they come back to life as some kind of fucked up zombie?”

           “He’s right.” Spencer says quietly his voice resigned.

           “I know he is! A kid bit a woman’s neck out; she just came back to fucking life!” Kat snaps.

           “What? Are you okay, did you get bit?” Spencer asks franticly.

           “Is that Kat? Why are you asking her that? What’s happening, Reid?” Kat can hear Morgan, one of her brother’s coworkers and their unofficial older brother ask.

           “No, I… I’m okay. We dealt with it… but the boy’s mother she lost it when Moore had to shoot him… She… she took his gun and was threatening to kill us… I.” Kat falls silent taking a breath. “She aimed it at the window; she would have killed everyone on board. I had to shoot her, Spence… I shot her, I killed someone.”

           “Oh god…” Spencer whispers clearly to himself, he takes a shaky breath. “Katrina listen to me, you did what you had to do. Okay? You didn’t have a choice. It will be okay.”

           “I… I know. But Spence what is this?” Kat asks blinking back tears as she tries to hold it together. She just wanted to be in DC already, to hug her big brother and pretend none of this had happened.

           “We don’t know. How long until you land?”

           “I don’t know we took off early then we were supposed to land for a layover in Houston but the pilot said the airport wasn’t responding so we’re coming straight to DC. I’m guessing at least two to four hours.”

           “The airport wasn’t responding?” Spencer asks his voice tense.

           “That’s what he said…” Kat frowns why hadn’t it responded… oh. It was gone; the airport was probably over run by those… those things. “Spence, how bad is this thing?”

           “It’s everywhere, all over the world. We’ve just been told to go home or to the refugee center the military is setting up downtown. Apparently both Seattle and New York have already been overrun.”

           “Seattle? That’s what the smoke was then… Chaos as those… things took over.”

           “Probably.” Kat frowns as Spencer’s voice crackles.

           “Spence? Your breaking up.”

           “I’m losing signal… the cell towers have been being over loaded… I’m… lose you. When you land get to Rossi’s.” Spencer’s voice gets more and more staticky as he talks.

           “Spence? Spencer?”

           “Get to Rossi’s, I love you…”

           “I love you too.” Kat says franticly as the connection gets worse.

           “Get… Rossi’s.” The call goes dead.

           “Spencer? Spencer?” Kat whispers desperately into the phone. She closes her eyes leaning her head against the seat in front of her. Get to Rossi’s… Get to Rossi’s… She could do that, couldn’t she?

           “Attention passengers please return to your seats and buckle up. We seem to be running low on fuel and will be making an emergency landing. Please prepare.” Kat bites her lip buckling in and wrapping the seat beside hers buckle through the handles of her bags hopefully to keep them from flying around and hitting her if things got too bumpy.

           Kat grips the arms of her seat as she stares out the plane window as they begin a rapid decent. Trees grow bigger as they fly very close over them until finally they touch down with a lot of jerks and bumps before finally coming to a stop in what appears to be a field.

           “We have landed safely somewhere in Georgia. Please remain seated. We will come and get you and your belongings row by row as soon as the emergency slide is in place.” Kat takes a shaky breath loosening her grip on the seat arms. She gathers her stuff, not planning to leave her stuff behind.

           “Ma’am your next. Please bring your stuff and make your way to where the captain is waiting.” The flight attendant who brought her water before motions her to go to the door. Kat makes her way over there.

           “You’re the one who shot the woman who had the gun right?” The captain asks. Kat nods. “Thank you. We will slide your luggage down to my co-pilot first then you, alright?”

           “Okay.” Kat slides one bag at a time down the slide then sits at the edge; she takes a breath and slides down, grateful for the helping hand of the co-pilot as she reaches the bottom. She takes her bags and moves to the side looking around. There was no way she was going to be able to lug all these bags all the way from middle of nowhere Georgia to DC.

           Within an hour the plane was empty, Moore and a few flight attendants lowering what food, water, blankets, pillows, and other useful items they found while searching the plane down before coming down themselves.

           “Now what do we do?” Someone yells.

           “Survive?” Moore suggests with a shrug.

           “Whatever this is, it’s everywhere.” Kat speaks up deciding to share what Spencer told her with the others. “They’re setting up a refugee center in downtown DC. It’s a ways but if we can make it there we may be safe? Or safe-ish…” Kat shakes her head with a frown.

           “And how do you know that?” A woman asks in a snide tone.

           “My brother is an FBI agent he lives in DC. I talked to him a few hours ago, he said this virus is everywhere all over the world. They sent the agents home or to the center.” Kat explains glaring at the woman.

           “Why should we listen to the murderer?” One man yells. Kat frowns and shakes her head turning to grab her bags.

           “She saved all our lives so you can shut your mouth!” Silver haired guy speaks up.

           “She shouldn’t have even had a gun on board!” A woman retorts.

           “I normally check it, as is the law, but they told me to just get on just like they did you, I told them I had it.” Kat snaps.

           “Enough! Look we’re on our own. Help isn’t coming. So we need to get moving. If there is a center in DC then there may be one in Atlanta. We should head there.” The co-pilot suggests. A few people nod.

           “My brother said both Seattle and New York where overrun who’s to say Atlanta isn’t either? I think DC is our best shot.” Kat argues.

           “And how exactly do you propose we get to DC? Walk?” Another man asks.

           “Yeah if we have to, just like how we’d get to Atlanta.” Kat points out.

           “I agree with Kat, we should head to DC.” Moore sides with her.

           “Well I ain’t going anywhere, when our plane doesn’t show up someone will come looking.” One woman says sitting down, a few people follow suit.

           “How about we split into groups, those going to Atlanta will go with Jeffery.” The captain motions to the co-pilot. “Those going to DC can go with me, Moore, and Kat. And those who want to stay can?” People nod seemingly liking that plan.

           “We’ll split the food and water evenly into three groups then split into groups.” Jeffery says people nod. The flight attendants, Jeffery, and the captain split up the food. The captain bringing a bag full over to Kat and Moore. Jeffery gives a bag to the people who clearly have decided to stay and takes the third with him.

           “Okay split into your groups.” Silver hair guy and the other first class passenger join Kat’s group along with three of the five flight attendants, the woman with the toddler, a teenager and a young girl, and two others.

           “Why don’t we all start with introducing ourselves?” The captain suggests. “I’m Daniel Blake.”

           “Jacob Moore.”

           “Katrina Reid, most people call me Kat.”

           “Johnathon Thomas, call me Tom.” Silver hair says.

           “Mia Jones.” The flight attendant who gave Kat the glass of water speaks up.

           “Olivia Charles.”

           “Tiffany Dunge.” The other two flight attendants speak up.

           “Tommy Myers.” The other man from first class says.

           “Matilda June, people call me Tilly, this is Lillian.” The woman with a toddler speaks up introducing the little girl in her arms.

           “I’m John Francis; this is my sister Taylor Francis.” The teen introduces himself and the little girl.

           “Isabella Johnson.”

           “Marcus Brown.” Kat surveys their group looking each person over closely.

           Daniel had short neatly cut black hair with a few streaks of grey, he was around fifty years old, with pale skin, and looked to be biracial half white, half Asian, around Kat’s height. Moore was younger nearer her age, maybe a few years older in his early thirties, he had curly brown hair cut short, inquisitive brown eyes, and pale skin with freckles sprinkled across his face, he was tall and lanky, probably over six foot, he reminded her of Spencer. Tom had silvery greying hair a silver beard with a slight mustache and a scar on his right cheek, tall about six foot.

           Mia had blonde hair, was shorter then Kat by an inch or two maybe five-five. Olivia had black very curly hair held close to her head by a tight bun, she was African American with a very dark complexion, a few freckles along her nose, she was around Kat’s height. Tiffany was Asian, very short around five foot with black long hair held in a ponytail and dark brown eyes. Tommy had bright red carrot orange hair, freckles across his face, and startling blue eyes, he was tall and lanky at around 6 foot.

           Tilly was young around Kat’s age, maybe a year older so around twenty-eight. She had dark brown hair like Kat’s and emerald green eyes; she was Kat’s height almost exactly so about five-seven. Lillian looked like her mom with curly brown hair pulled back into two pigtails she was about three with the same emerald green eyes.

           John was pale, around five-ten, clearly about sixteen or seventeen years old, he had long black hair that reached just past his shoulders, an earring in his left ear. Taylor had long wavy golden blonde hair pulled back in a braid like Kat’s, she had bright blue eyes and seemed to be around ten or eleven.

           Isabella was a bottle blonde with brown roots just starting to show, she was pale with hazel eyes, and was chewing gum. Marcus was the tallest well over six foot Kat guessed around six-five, he had brood shoulders, dark skin, and a shaved head.

           “Let’s see if we can find a house or road so we can figure out where we are and maybe find a map.” Daniel suggests. They all grab their bags and follow him. Kat lugs her bags after him, she was going to have to figure out a better solution to carrying her stuff and soon if she was going to make it to DC.

           “Now this is not the end. It is not even the beginning of the end. But it is, perhaps, the end of the beginning.” – Winston Churchill

---Line Break---

AN:

           I hope you all enjoyed! I’m looking forward to working on this story for a long time. I have plans to continue this far into the future possibly even reaching the time period the show is currently set it. Let me know what you think! Follow me to be notified when a new chapter is posted or to be notified when I post a new story or update my other current stories!

           Any kind of review that is nice even a Good Chapter or a smiley face is appreciated!

– Kat

[asenatheoperator]

(I don’t have great skills to draw my own OC like many people in here but at least i have games to use making my own OC :) ) ’’There is a old saying of my people ’The sheep separated from the flock is eaten by the Wolf.’ And let me tell you, on this mountains...Its very easy to find yourself separated from the flock.’’  Asena

Real Name: Dilara Gümüş

Unit: Special Forces Command

Position: Defender

Birthplace: Izmir, Turkey

Date of Birth: 05 June 1983

Age: 35

Height: 5′9′’ (1.75M)

Weight: 143 lbs (64kg)

Biography:

Dilara Gümüş, daughter of a police chief father and a history teacher mother. She and five year older brother grow up in a very disciplined family but both of them liked to break rules..Actually, her brother Mustafa break the rules she just followed him from behind and take the blame with him. She saw him as kinda a idol figure. She played football and basketball with him also they went to watch Karşıyaka’s matches together. But when she’s 16, Mustafa conscripted to the Army. When he was gone she start focusing on her school more, she wasn’t a GREAT student but she always managed to survive. Also with her mother’s influence she start getting into the history, when she read a book about the Turkic Mythology she was amazed and soon she found herself in her room surrounded with history books about the mythologies.

Five months later after her brother conscripted to the army bad news came from the South Eastern Anatolia. Where her brother and two other soldier died in a mine explosion during a combat patrol. From that day she promised herself to avenge her brother but there was one problem, Turkish Army wasn’t conscripting females so she had to take the hard way, enter the Military Academy which was one of the most hardest thing to do in Turkey. In 2000 she managed to pass the exam and entered the Kuleli Military High School which Kuleli was one of the most prestigious and oldest Military High School in the world also it was the first step to enter the Harbiye Military Academy. In High School one of her teacher see her interest in history, one day he find her in library reading a book about the History of Asia he joined her and had a long discussion about the history, her teacher as knowning she’s going to be a officer in the army he gave her the nickname ‘’Asena’’ which Asena is a wolf goddess in Turkish Mythology also in Turkic Nomad Tribes woman who fought alongside their husbands or for their husbands was called ‘’Asena’’ that conversation with her teacher encouraged her more and give a morale boost. Five years later in 2005, Dilara was one of the Military Cadet entered the Harbiye Military Academy in Ankara. In Harbiye her fast decision taking impressed the officers but her old habit ‘’Breaking Rules’’ start catching up to her again. 22 year old girl sometimes was causing trouble and get into fights with her class mates in football matches, also once she caught while trying to escape to get something from outside which still today she not told what was it..After she scolded by her commander she put her head back together, worked so hard to not get kicked out from the army when she came this far. On her final year in 2010, Special Forces Command was looking for new candidates to fill up the ranks, in history there wasn’t a female Operator wearing the famous Maroon Beret in history of Turkey. When she heard General Halil Soysal Commander of the Special Forces coming to recruit volunteers the thing she wanted was coming to her on a gold plate. She worked on Academy’s GYM after the classes and worked on her aim when they were in firing range, it wasn’t easy to be picked to the Special Forces of course also it wasn’t easy to complete the training after getting picked, so she must put more effort into this. Three weeks later General arrived and talk with the cadets ask them is there any volunteers to join the Special Forces, Dilara and ten other candidates volunteered. General was surprised when he saw a girl volunteer for this but he accepted it first he and operators he bring tested the cadets in Harbiye with few tests, running,quiz,shooting etc. Again Dilara surprised others and she was one of the four cadets to go Gölbaşı and have a shot to be part of the Special Forces Command.

Three years later after completing her training she became the first woman wore the Maroon Beret in history. With that she start taking part on Anti-Terror operations in Middle East and South Eastern Turkey. In 2016 during the Operation Euphrates Shield she injured in a mine explosion, almost lost her leg. When she’s recovering in hospital Dilara start designing a mine she can use anywhere and deploy it fast like a C4. First version of the Gulyabani interested the Command then with Aselsan’s involvment project get bigger in 2018, first prototype made and given to the Dilara Gümüş. Now joining Rainbow, she may add few more things on this deadly disc with help of her fellow operators.

Psychological Profile:

Brave, smart and a football maniac with a rebel soul. She loves to setup traps and play with her prays because of this she go out alone by herself, many times during so called ‘’Hunting’’ Patrols on the South Eastern Anatolia and Northern Iraq mountains, she move alone without her team and hunt down terrorists even sometimes she plays with them and lure them into her traps setup in caves or random places. She usually never allows people to have low morales around of her, she makes everything to put a smile to her comrades faces, she known with her melodic voice and she usually sing ballads while using snipers or DMRs. 

Also when you talking football with her please don’t mention the Göztepe vs Karşıyaka rivalry, she may go nuts over it.

Unique Gadget:

Gulyabani: x4

She can throw Gulyabani mines on the ground and when mine is triggered it does 50 to 100 damage on the enemy operators, if friendly operators near the explosion it hurts them too and if the mine deployed in range of Jager’s ADS, burst out mine can be targeted by the ADS. Because of that its better to deploy it outside the objective room. 

Gulyabani mines can be detected with IQs Spectre and destroyable with rifle bullets and Thatcher’s EMP grenades.

Primary: SVD Dragunov, MPT 76

Secondary: Yavuz 16, Zigana M9

Gadget: Deployable Shield, Barbed Wire

Quotes:

Spawning:

‘‘Kızagan, help me to win this.’‘ ‘‘Alright boys and girls, lets kill our friends’‘ ‘‘I hope Craig steps on my mine, he still not paid me his debt’’ ‘‘Now you gonna ask me why i have SVD, it is a long story’‘ ‘‘I hope Glaz is ready for this’‘ ‘‘Here we go..’‘ ‘‘If we lose this, no beers tonight’‘ ‘‘Brother, watch over me’‘ ‘‘Başlıyoruz..’‘ ‘‘Bugün kaybetmek yok.’‘

Placing Gulyabani:

‘’Mine out!’‘ ‘‘Gulyabani deployed!’‘ ‘‘I wonder who will be heading to Tamag today’‘ ‘‘Go, kidnapp someone my little Gulyabani’‘ ‘‘Hunting time’‘ ‘‘Haydi Rastgele’‘ ‘’If ADS destroy this i’ll be pissed!’‘ Gulyabani kills friendly: ‘‘Ooops..’‘ ‘‘Sorry.’‘ ‘‘I told you to not stay around of it’‘ ‘‘*Whistles nonchalantly*’’ ‘‘I’ll buy you a drink after this’‘ ‘‘NOT MY FAULT..Well kinda’‘ ‘‘Bu iyi olmadı..’‘

Reinforcing:

‘’Ahhh, i feel more safer’‘ ‘‘Wall Safe!’‘ ‘‘This made it better’‘

Barricading:

‘’Door’s closed!’‘ ‘‘Hey, im Castle now’‘

Deploying Shield: ’’Shield up!’’ ’’Are we sure this can hold bullets?!’’ Deploying Wire: ’’Barbed Wire down!’’ ’’Wire down, if you cut your legs, not my problem!’’ ’’Wire down!’’ ’’Ov! Wire down, also anyone got a bandage?’’ Reloading: ‘‘Siktir! reloading!’‘ ‘‘Ahh hadi ama!’‘ ‘‘I’m reloading!’‘ Reviving:

‘’Aww, did you get hurt’‘ ‘‘My grandma had this..She did not live long’‘ ‘‘Reviving teammate!’‘ ‘‘Friendly do- NEVERMIND!’‘ ‘‘Friendly down!’‘ ‘‘Where’s Doc when you need him’‘ Spotting: ‘‘Enemy located!’‘ ‘‘Düşman Görüldü!’‘ ‘‘Here is my pray’‘ ‘‘Is that Blackbeard?’‘ ‘‘Guests arrived!’‘ ‘‘I got tangos in sight’‘

(For five hours i worked on this...Im sorry if there is a grammar mistake (Probably alot) also this OC is open to RP if anyone wants it ofc)

[charliemorningstar-the-introvert]

I thought I'd make a guide to my blog, that way people know how I operate, because I know it can get confusing at times when I visit other blogs...

I'm obsessed with fictional worlds from movies, TV shows, and especially books. So if I send you asks about books, that's just me nerding-out, and you can ignore them if I asked too many questions and you aren't interested in all of that.

I love Lucifer Morningstar/Tom Ellis, so most of the things you'll see are Tom Ellis pics, Lucifer quotes, and my profile pic will always be of Tom Ellis in some way. That's also why my username had Morningstar in it.

If I reblog something, it's because I've deemed it important (like anti-racism, anti-ableism, anti-bullying, anti-LGBTQIA+ phobia, etc.,), funny and/or relatable (like textposts, quotes, things like that), something to boost positivity and make others feel better, or something that looks cool (like art). If I don't deem it necessary to share, I don't really share it, unless it's from a friend and I want them to know I find what they say important.

I struggle with social anxiety, even on social media, so while I might be the first to like something, I generally don't like or reblog unless there's been at least two likes and a few reblogs... I don't like looking like I'm stalking someone's blogs or like I'm a weirdo, so yeah.

I'm generally quiet when it comes to asks, reblogs with my thoughts added and posts that I write myself (unless it's about a major important topic, or I'm really upset and need to let it out), so I'll typically either just like and/or reblog, ask questions/send support anonymously, because of the social anxiety and being an introvert.

I'm typically not the person who messages someone first, unless I notice that they need a kind, supportive message if they're having a hard day, but I will answer the messages others send to my inbox (I may respond a bit late, because I need the time to think of the best answer, because I don't like to rush and say things wrong), so I am always here should anyone need a listening ear.

I'm very awkward, not really funny or creative, and don't always know what things mean, so if I don't like or reblog a post, its likely because I don't know what it really means (I am autistic, and also just not up to date with all of the fandoms, abbreviations and all the cool new text-speak slang in general).

I often go silent online, and sometimes turn off my notifications, because I need to recharge sometimes. And if my notifications are on, but I don't answer messages and asks, like and reblog things, or check on friends, it's because I'm either napping, reading, or just not in the mood to be online, but I'll get to everything eventually.

I'm not in every fandom, but I might share textposts from other fandoms I'm not in, even if I've never read the books/watched the TV show/movie, because I find it funny or relatable. The fandoms I'm in are HP/Marauder era, Lucifer, 9-1-1/9-1-1: Lone Star and Supernatural, so if I share from other fandoms, just know that I have no idea what the actual books/TV show/movie is actually about, I just find it too funny or relatable not to reblog it.

I'm not much for small talk, because I don't really know how to start conversations (besides the obvious hi/hey/hello), so if I message with a question or something that isn't socially acceptable, I'm sorry in advance.

I'm generally a really nice guy, unless someone is hurting someone I care about, or they're being excessively rude, so my inbox is always open and I try not to judge and won't turn people away (unless they're just being rude, or they share inappropriate images and videos).

As I've mentioned above, I am neurodivergent (I'm autistic, have ADHD, Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD), depression, Generalized Anxiety Disorder (GAD)/Social Anxiety Disorder (SAD), and I'm an introvert - though I'm not sure if that counts under the neurodivergent umbrella), so if I comment with what seems like a "stupid question", or I send asks with a lot of questions attached to it, please be kind and remember that not everyone can understand what you're saying or implying, and some struggle with being able to limit their excitement about a topic they love to talk about.

I mention that I am a trans man a lot, and I comment on transphobic remarks because I think that transphobia is horrible and gross, especially when radfem people put trans women down and hurt people intentionally, especially when people invalidate us (trans men ARE REAL MEN, trans women ARE REAL WOMEN, nonbinary/genderqueer people ARE VALID, regardless what terfs say), but I do try to be nice in my responses (if I react in a comment that seems rushed with anger, try to understand that I'm not usually one to rush responses or get triggered easily, I only lash out when I'm passionate about protecting others who are being hurt by bullies), and I'm trying to learn coping skills to allow myself to calm down and breathe before I think about what I should respond with, so bear with me on that.

I will also absolutely stand up against racism and antisemitism, bullying, sexism, things they others might see as "jokes" when they aren't actually jokes, ableism, LGBTQIA+ phobia (specifically with transphobia, homophobia and aro/ace phobia, as I am gay and asexual), even if it makes people uncomfortable, but sometimes I will just leave posts without comments or reblog with a personal statement because it's too upsetting to speak about.

That's pretty much me, in a nutshell. So anyways, feel free to message and/or comment if you need clarification or just need to say something about any of this. 😊🖤💜

[chuckling-chemist]

Happy Freedom Festivals, Pregame Edition! ((1/2))

((A 4th of July inspired piece for fantrolls. It’s in 2 parts to break up the story a bit, the first being the set up of the event/morning thereof and the second part involving the festival will be posted later. Also I split it up since, on its own, this still works as a cute, fluffy slice of life piece, so like, I feel less bad if I don’t finish it completely.))

((forward==>))

“Good morning Dontoc! How’d you ssssleep?”

Dontoc glanced over to the sound of the voice as he walked in the kitchen, smiling wryly at the petite tealblood pacing around the kitchen, wrapped granola bar in her hand. Her hair, normally pulled back in some kind of messy bun, fell down past her face and bounced around her head. She hadn't changed into any sort of casual wear, opting instead for a purple night shirt and black sweats.

“Would you like the honest answer or the nice answer, dear?” he asked.

They both knew the honest answer. Dontoc had found Pallia working in her lab upon his return from Careen’s in the daytime hours, watching a clear liquid overtop a viscous purple one bubbling inside a round bottom flask. He had to coax her to get any kind of sleep whatsoever, eventually winning her over with reminding her she's done the same for him...after requesting to assist her.

He’s almost certain it was past 3 pm by the time they went to their respiteblocks.

She stopped pacing to look at him threw askew half-moon frames. “Well you're sscertainly chipper for no ssssleep.”

“I could say the same for you,” Dontoc said as he took a seat. He sniffed the air, resisting to frown at the lack of breakfast smells.  “Unless...coffee? But I do not smell it.”

“Oh no I'm steadily running on sleep deprivation and excitement.” She grinned. He tried to ignore the small warmth it sent him. “Coffee sounds good though. Want some?”

Dontoc took a seat in a rickety chair, watching Pallia dart around the kitchen looking for everything needed. “Such a drink sounds exquisite. Though perhaps we should wait for Aisral. I do not wish to see her in the mornings without caffeine.”

“Aisral can make her own coffee,” Pallia huffed. She pulled down two ceramic white mugs from a low cabinet, setting both next to him. “It's not my fault she's decided to spend the morning of one of the biggest festivals of Sandyhorn this side of anything vaguely related to 12th Perigee working,” she said.

“I feel like they are all the biggest festival,” he said. 

“Oh no. You haven’t seen this one,” she leaned on the counter to face him, arms crossed. “The night Sandyhorn celebrates the turnaround from a slaver’s plantation hellhole to a landdwelling haven for tealbloods and down. What it is now.”

He did know, somewhat. Sandyhorn was a strange location for such a city of lowbloods, existing right off the coast in a surprisingly good location for tobacco and sugar trade, even with the extreme weather. While too sandy for most seadwellers too live comfortably (most seadwellers preferred complete underwater living to anything to do with the land), undoubtedly highbloods could and once lived comfortably. He could identify it even by the architecture. And now they just...didn’t. Sure, occasionally you’d run into a cobaltblood or indigoblood, but purplebloods were unheard of, and Dontoc could count the seadwellers living there on his fingers. But he never got much in the way of a finer description for what happened and how it stayed, only that it involved multiple slave revolts and the formation of a free port somewhere in the sand bar.

“To be fair, I have not yet seen the 12th Perigee festivities, what with Careen’s ball. And the one after that - the Feast of Fools? - the two of us were out of town for a whole week.” He ran a hand through his hair, guilt washing over him in waves. He had wanted to go to those events he just had...prior engagements. “Why did you not go to her ball, anyway? I never asked. Ah, if I can ask, that is.”

She shrugged nonchalantly. “Not my thing. Can't dance. No one I like there. Drunken debauchery sounds more fun.” She climbed up onto the counter top and sat on her knees, now only just barely able to reach the top shelf. “All we have is a dark roast. That okay?”

“If it has caffeine, honestly I will be satisfied,” he admitted. “Just watching you is exhausting me.”

“Oh, uh...right.” She slowly slid off the countertop, bag of ground coffee beans in hand. “Sorry. I'm just excited.”

“As do many things,” he said.  “And normally I enjoy it but…”

She let out a short laugh as the coffee pot started up, bubbling just loud enough for Dontoc to register it started up. “When you're not running on three hours after working?”

Another wry smile, this one seen and returned by Pallia. “Something like that, yes. If you constitute what we did as working,” he said. His fins fluttered lightly at the memory of the day prior. It was working in the most technical sense. If that counted.

“As much ‘working’ as Aisral is doing right now, I'm sure,” she said. She slid into the chair across from him, making a face at the statement. “The casual version, of course. I just realized that sounded far worse out loud than in my head.”

Dontoc quirked an eyebrow. The air quotes, while not mimed out, could certainly be heard in her voice. “Mayola?”

It felt almost planned, the way the other seadweller, wrapped up in a fluffy teal bathrobe that barely covered her, pranced into the room and plopped herself next to him, sprawled between two chairs despite being smaller than Dontoc. Her mid-length dark hair gathered in wet clumps that left a trail of water droplets behind her. Aisral shuffled shortly behind, dressed in her standard pants suit outlined in accents of teal and fuschia. She walked immediately toward the kettle and started boiling water, grabbing a few teabags and ramen packets nearby it.

“The one and motherfucking only,” Mayola said.  She sniffed the air. “Oh and coffee! Perfect start to gettin’ drunk in the name of freedom.”

Dontoc had to resist rolling his eyes. Pallia didn't even bother. “You guys can have the next brew. I only put enough in for the myself and Dontoc.”

Mayola snorted, all interest suddenly gone. “Yeah, okay. Whatever. I'll just go buy some lemon squeeze juice at the festival anyways.”

“You can still have coffee--”

“I gotta meet up with Nivs anyhow. Seein’ as I'm seadwelling, I need some kinda excuse t’be down there.”

“You never needed an excuse before,” Aisral muttered, still not looking up. “Unless you feel a sudden urge of responsibility?”

The coffee pot let out a soft ding, signifying its completion. Something Pallia didn't notice at all.

“Responsibility? Nah. Just settin’ a good example for our new seadwellin’ friend here.” Mayola roughly clapped him on the shoulder, thoughts of coffee suddenly gone and replaced with Careen's warnings of volatile lowbloods roaming the streets to attack nobility and how he should stay inside.

“Uh...really? I, ah, well...from what I was told that does, that does not make--”

“Oh come off it. Mayola you're gonna psssych him out and Valeba'sss not here,” Pallia said. With a kind smile his direction, she added, “You'll be fine. Culling of highbloodsss would make the event too high profile.”

He nodded, anxiety only somewhat quelled. “Ah, yes. Right. Right. Thank you, Pallia. Which, by the way-”

“Hey wait who the hell’s Valeba?” Mayola asked. She shifted positions to only take up one chair now, but lounged as if it were a full throne.

“Valeba is my moirail.” He looked over, noticing the obvious confusion with her fins twitching violently enough they seemed to shudder and added, “You did not possibly think Pallia and I were--”

“No, course not,” she said airily. “I know Shorty’s quad situation like the back’o my hand--” he looked at Pallia for confirmation, who just shrugged noncommittally “--name sounds familiar 's all.”

“Excuse me if that sounds well ah...vague,” he said. Looking back at Pallia, he said, “Also, you should know--”

“Goddamnit!!”

Everyone swiveled their head toward the sound of the commotion. Aisral slammed down a large teacup, dark liquid sloshing all over the counter. “This is the last time I run on no sleep!”

Without missing a beat, Pallia called out, “I'm not cleaning that.”

“What even did you do?” Dontoc asked. “You were brewing tea correct?”

“Tea does not have ramen inside it!” Aisral snapped, flailing her arms about wildly.

Oh.

Dontoc couldn't resist a quiet chuckle at the angry troll in the corner, exchanging a glance at Pallia as he did so. She snickered behind her hand, but it was still plainly audible as a distinct hiss. Mayola didn't even bother hiding it, chortling loudly in the chair.

“Oh my God, I cannot believe you did it again!”

“Says the troll who is the reason I did not sleep because she just realized I am one of the only trolls in existence who actually files her claws,” Aisral retorted.

“And I'm out,” Pallia said. She stood up, leaving her mug on the table. “I'll get some breakfast at the festival. Do you wanna come, Dontoc? I'm guessing you don't have plans for the night.”

“I ah...well, yes, Careen is refraining from the celebrations,” he said. “She believes it to be dangerous for highbloods.”

Her exact words had been, “I for one refuse to partake in something so beneath myself if it's already a danger to my physical, social and mental health,” followed by chastising him for even showing any interest, but there was no reason anyone in the room had to know that.

“Princess thinks engagin’ with a hiveless troll professionally is 'dangerous’,” Mayola sneered. With a noticeable glare from Pallia, she hastily added, “But maybe she's different 'round ya, since you're not another heiress 'n shit. And still a seadweller. Ya gotta get a circle of friends like that somehow.”

“Perhaps,” he said. She probably wasn't. A little under a sweep in their relationship had soured it greatly for him, and if her lack of affection over the winter until Red Quadrant Appreciation Day in spring indicated anything, she likely felt the same. But there was no reason to dump that here. Really, breaking things off now would result in the least amount of hurt feelings for both parties. “She is quite friendly to those in her circle. All five or six of them”

Pallia cleared her throat loudly. “Uh, right. Well, whether you're coming or not, I need to get into actual clothes. I'm not gonna force you to go if you don't want to,” she said. She turned on her heel, hair swishing behind her as she started walking off.

Dontoc sighed, scurrying after her as she strode down the hallway. Was she...upset? Probably not. Pallia had generally been open with him, down to mentioning anything between her and Careen was personal and had nothing to do with him. He loved (liked, he told himself, he liked) that about her: he knew where he stood with her and never really was stuck guessing the way he was back in schoolfeeding.

Maybe he just struck a nerve. He could only imagine how annoyed he'd be if Pallia engaged romantically with someone who tormented him in his younger sweeps -- in particular a red or pale romance. Sure, he's polite enough in general and he could hold his tongue, but even he could only go on for so long talking about them before he'd have to leave the room.  

And that was ignoring the flush crush. He couldn't even imagine how the introduced variable would affect things

“No, no, do hold on! I would love to go with you. I-I, well I quite frankly, I do not know when I last went to such an event? There was one some time...some time ago. It was some sort of seasonal one. If this one is bigger, well, it would certainly be an experience,” he said breathlessly. “Also I truly am sorry, I do hope I did not upset you.”

She shook her head with a sharp-toothed grin. “You're fine. Had to get dressed anyway and Mayola always hogs the meatblock when she's here,” she said.

He let out a breath he didn't realize he held. “Oh. So it was not me?”

“Not at all.”

“Good. Good! Oh I was afraid I, ah...well...it is obvious I suppose.” He ran a shaky hand through his hair. “So ah, this festival then? Is it bigger than the one when I arrived in early summer?”

“Well yeah of course! That was the…” she stopped in place, right in the middle of the hallway, putting an enclosed hand over her mouth. “Oh God you've been here for over a sweep now and I barely even noticed.”

“You forgot about the flowers I gave you?” he asked. “Those were for our ah....well, anniversary is a bad term, I suppose, but...yes. That” 

She shook her head as she started to walk again, slower now that Dontoc followed her. “No. I remember those. I just didn't realize...huh. That long.” She stopped in front of her door, swinging the door open and stepping inside. “Guess I'm just pleasantly surprised how long you stuck around.”

Dontoc’s fins twitched pleasantly and he smiled. “I am glad I stuck around,” he said. He took a step inside, immediately stopped by a gentle hand on his chest.

“Unless Careen is somehow okay with you seeing me change, I'd suggest no,” she said, a light smirk playing on her face. “Plus I'm not sure I want you watching.”

His face burned. His gaze dropped from her and right to the floor, while his hands went to fiddle a non-existent bowtie. “I, ah, oh yes ah...right! I uh, my apologies for, well, not--not thinking and--”

“Dontoc?” Pallia said, her voice light. “It's fine. Go get dressed. I'll meet you at your room.” With a reassuring smile, she slowly shut the door as he turned away. He was only a few steps away as the door softly clicked into place.

Dontoc stopped. Something was missing. “Pallia?” he called out, hoping she could hear him.

No answer. He walked back up to door, giving a few, louder-than-usual raps so she could hear. “Pallia?”

He could hear swift footsteps, then a crack in the door as her head poked out. He kept his gaze pointedly at her eyes, refusing to even possibly look any further down and entertain the possibility she wasn't dressed appropriately. Such wouldn't be proper.

“Hm?” There was no annoyance in her voice, only curiosity.

He gave her a sheepish smile as color tinted his cheeks. “I am sorry to say, but I do believe we forgot the coffee.”

((1/2))

((Like what I write? Buy me a coffee!))