#and this was before he actually experienced his dad being brought back in the worst way possible
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actually this drives me so crazy. can we think about what it means for a second that Lloyd is actually pretty damn hesitant to say he wants to see his father again? In comparison to Harumi, who enthusiastically declares that she'd do anything to see her parents again. I don't think thats a lie on her part - after all, this whole enterprise is essentially so she can resurrect someone she sees as a suitable parental figure. And later on, she's incredibly confident that one of her main similarities to Lloyd is that Lloyd is desperate to see his father again
Like she's not just referring to the love thing here, she's referring to the fact that she just stated literally 1 episode ago that she desperately desires to see her lost family again.
But Lloyd just doesn't really express that same confidence in desiring to see him again. And like, while you can take his response to Harumi's original question as mostly agreeing, to me it reads more like a measured non-answer. He talks about the relationship being unusual. He talks about missing him. He talks about being scared of what the SOG will bring back if they succeed.
Nothing in there is an affirmative that he actually WANTS to see his dad again, or that he would bring back his dad back himself if he had the chance. Food for thought.
#lloyd garmadon#also this is a message for all the ppl out there who thought it was weird that lloyd didnt wanna chase after jay in drs2#this is in fact an established part of his character from all the way back in s8#lloyd is actually REALLY FUCKING MEASURED about impulsive emotional decisions surrounding bringing back loved ones#and this was before he actually experienced his dad being brought back in the worst way possible#imo this is because he always had more complicated feelings about his relationship with his father than he put on#particularly when it came to negative feelings about his isolation in early childhood and the effect garmadon becoming his enemy had on him#turns out when your dad seems to have a constant self-loathing death wish that involves you being the executioner#that has a negative effect on your relationship
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,What is a ‘dilf’? Y/N’
- Pairing; David Rossi x Fem!Reader
- Fic type: Romantic, Clean, Fluff, Funny
- Tags: accidental confessions, drunken confessions, sweet Rossi, Y/N is a mess, Hotch wins a bet, slight daddy issues, the team is traumatized.
- Warnings: None,
- Summary: the team goes out to celebrate after a particularly successful case, the girls have an interesting conversation and Y/N has to explain what a dilf is to Dave.
It all started when Hotch mentioned that he and Morgan planned to stop by a bar after work, it was everyone’s day off tomorrow and they couldn’t fly back from New Orleans till morning plus the case had gone shockingly well. Before anyone knew what happened Dave had offered to cover the bill for the whole team, JJ had called Will, and everyone was on their way to the hotels bar no questions asked.
At first things had been calm, everyone ordered a beer, will had recommended it apparently this was his go to back home and it was actually brewed in the bar, it was also eight percent alcohol.
Eventually the guys split off to play pool, Penelope stole a beer from Derek who was completely and utterly plastered and the girls started gossiping by the bar. “He’s cute.” Emily pointed out a guy, nice arms and a nice beard but he couldn’t be older then thirty five, that was still a decade older then you but he was no Pasta Man.
“He’s not really my type.”
“Yeah I agree with Y/N, he can’t compare to that Greek god of goodness.”
Penelope was peering at a stumbling Morgan across the bar earning a quiet ‘awe’ from JJ, he and Will seemed to be ups against each other in a game of nine ball at the moment.
“What is your type?, you’ve been on the team two years and I’ve never seen you date.” JJ took a sip of her beer, god bless her heart for being the only person still capable of standing this far into the night, and Emily and Penelope peaked up in curiosity.
You were to busy starring off at your senior agent, as he fumbled with his wallet trying to buy another round, thinking before you spoke was far to complicated for the moment being.
“Tall, older, handsome. Facial hair is a must and he has to be funny, and experienced, and confident.” Your tone was tooth rottingly sweet and Dave happened to look over, he winked at you playfully holding his beer as if to toast to you across the room and you giggled like a school girl much to your embarrassment.
“Oh my god, Y/N! He’s like fifty three!” JJ was shocked and Emily was cackling at you as you jumped with embarrassment, you weren’t sure if your face was red from the booze or from your life ending slip up on your feelings for the older agent.
“And? It’s not my fault that Rossi is a total Dilf.” Your tone was so self assured but unfortunately Emily and her evil cackle had brought the men back at the worst possible second. Despite the team being profilers, you managed to hide your embarrassing crush well enough, or at least you thought you had up until now.
“I’m a total what?” Speak of the devil, or in this case devilishly handsome Dilf and he shall appear. You wanted to curl up into a ball and die and yet the man looked so genuinely confused at which point he turned to the male half of the team who hadn’t heard and went, “what’s a Dilf?” Before glancing back at you,
“What, is a ‘Dilf’ Y/N?” He wanted answers and you wanted to leap off a tall ledge.
Hotch decided to bite his tongue, Reid looked absolutely perplexed, the girls were dying of laughter and Morgan spat out his drink back into his glass and started chocking. Will looked like he was questioning any life decision that lead him to meeting these people.
“Dilf is popular internet slang, to describe an older gentleman typically one with kids or one that acts like a father figure and is attractive. It’s said to mean ‘dad I’d like to fuck’ if I remember correctly!” It was official, when Reid was sober you were going to gut him, Rossi looked absolutely perplexed and the entirety of the team have a reflexive face palm at Reid’s words “what! Was I not helpful?” The doctor seemed clueless.
“You think I’m a Dilf? Really?” And suddenly Rossi was asking questions you didn’t want to answer and he was doing it in that sexy deep interrogator voice he used on unsubs, god why were you into that? And you were a stuttering mess of confusion.
“Well, uh- I… huh?” Welp, there went your last brain cell. To make matters worse again if that was even possible at this point, the Italian was starring so intensely you felt like you may explode.
“Before we do any Dilf’ing as it implies we should have dinner, I make excellent pasta.” Was he… oh, oh my god.
You nodded cheerfully at the offer, Dave’s Pasta and mind blowing Dilf sex, god bless the drunken delinquency of you and your colleagues.
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purple gel pens — part six
summary: soulmate au where every mark on your soulmate's skin appears on your own pairing: steve harrington x billy hargrove series content warnings: language, period-typical homophobia, implied abuse (neil hargrove)
previous part || masterlist || next part want to join my taglist?
When Billy was ten, he nearly drowned.
It was the first time he’d gone surfing without his mother there, no one standing on the shore cheering when he stood up or waiting ready to call for help if something went wrong. It wasn’t the largest wave he’d ever ridden—not even close—but it had been the first time he looked over with a wide grin only to see an empty beach staring back at him. His feet slipped on the board and suddenly he was tumbling under the current.
The first thing his instructor taught him years before was what to do if he got caught under a wave. Hold your breath, stay calm, and try not to fight it lest it pulls you further down. Don’t expend unnecessary energy, just grab the ankle tether and climb your way back to safety as soon as you can.
Except, when the moment it came to put that training to action, Billy did none of that. The shock of the slip knocked all the breath from his lungs. The wave tumbled him around, smacking his body against the rocks so harshly Billy knew there’d be scrapes and bruises if he made it out okay. He panicked, and if it wasn’t for the lifeguard that was on duty at that beach, he was sure he would have died.
Even through everything his dad put him through, the feeling of water rushing in where air should have been was the most painful thing Billy had ever experienced. Even thinking about it made him shudder, made him want to make sure no one ever experienced such a fear-inducing feeling ever again.
Being around Steve Harrington felt a lot like drowning, these days.
That night in November had already been doomed to be one of the worst he’d had in a while, and yet somehow it beat all expectations by becoming one of the worst days of his entire fucking life.
His dad had threatened him, had laid down the expectations for him clearly: find Max, bring her home from wherever the fuck she was hiding out, or else. Considering how it used to be, his dad had been on decent behavior ever since moving to bumfuck Indiana. It was like the man had actually believed in the idea of a fresh start for them, and though the slaps and rough grips never faded to memory the bruises mostly did. Billy would do anything to make sure that memory never came back to real-life, even if it meant threatening all of Max’s new friends.
Maybe especially then, because she never had to know the fear of Neil’s hand. Sure, part of that was on Billy, purposefully sticking around when he could have run away years ago if only out of fear that Neil would find a new target in a little girl who definitely didn’t deserve it, in the same way his anger had been brought down on Billy when his mother left them. But even then, Max could get away with shit that Billy would have been buried in the ground for doing long ago. And maybe deep down, it angered Billy. It wasn’t fair, was it? It wasn’t fair that Max got to spend so much time with her friends while Billy spent his night out in the cold driving aimlessly around looking for where she’d snuck off to.
And when he found her with King Steve Harrington? Billy just about saw red.
He’d heard the rumors. Of course, he had—this was King Steve, the guy who had once been at the top of the school’s rankings in terms of popularity. He’d heard all about how Harrington had slept with just about every girl at Hawkins High, including prim and proper Nancy Wheeler. Tommy had told him all about how Harrington brought those girls out to some secret spot in the woods, would romance them, would eventually bring them back to the Harrington fucking Mansion for the opposite of a restful night.
Then there was Max, his fucking sister, peeking out of the window of a house in the middle of nowhere with this guy. This guy who was lying to Billy’s face, who didn’t even try to hide how shifty he was being. And when Billy pushed past him to find there were a handful of other guys in the house with her?
Billy was sure he would’ve killed someone that night if Max hadn’t drugged him. It would’ve been Harrington, too. The second he smashed a ceramic plate over the other guy’s head, it was over. It was like he’d gone into a trance, watching the way red blossomed under his fists with dark beauty. One after the other, smack after crunch after fucking whimper. None of the scared shouts from the kids reached his ears, nothing at all sounded over the roaring in his head because he had fucking King Steve on his back, helpless and scared.
Billy wondered only briefly if Steve Harrington had ever actually felt so helpless before.
Then a needle was sticking out of Billy’s neck, flooding his body with instant numbness. His limbs grew heavy and it was impossible to stay upright. He flopped onto his back and watching Max hold that bat over him reminded him of why he’d attacked Steve so brutally in the first place, why it felt so strange to be the one with fists flying—Billy was terrifyingly too used to being helpless.
And as the world faded to black around him, Billy remembered the shock breaking through Harrington’s pained expression when he’d wailed on him, remembered the distant sound of that fucking curly-haired dork saying, “His face looks just like Steve’s.”
It sounded so faded and warped from whatever was in that syringe that he wasn’t all too sure it was real when he reawoke a couple of hours later. But then he’d walked home—muttering to himself that Max would pay if his car was damaged, though knowing deep down she never really would—and caught a glimpse of his face in his bedroom mirror.
Harrington was a lot of things, but a good fighter was not one of them. He’d put up an okay defense but really he was no match for the power Billy had been able to throw into each and every strike. In other words, there was absolutely no explanation for the bruises and cuts that littered his face.
No explanation, that is, other than the one that sent Billy reeling toward the bathroom, dropping to his knees and releasing the contents of his stomach into the toilet.
He’d tried to protect his soulmate for years. Ever since he was seven and his mother had whispered those words to him. Don’t tell your father about this, make sure he never knows. People had told him that finding your soulmate was meant to be the best moment of your life, that being able to see what marked their skin was nothing short of miraculous and completing. Instead, Billy had to spend his life running from that person, ignoring him and hurting him in every way except physically to try to spare him from his dad. He knew even at seven that if his dad ever found out, his soulmate wouldn’t live another day.
The only saving grace to Billy was that it was clear his soulmate hadn’t lived in California, that he was somewhere untouchable to Neil. All he had to do was not get caught talking to him. He would be safe, wherever he was, as long as Billy didn’t try to find him.
But after everything, after so many years of holding back everything he wanted to say to his soulmate, his person got hurt anyway.
Even worse, it didn’t even take Neil finding out for his worst nightmare to come true. No, as Billy pulled his knees closer to his chest as he leaned against the tub of the bathroom, he was hit with a haunting thought.
Billy had done nothing but hurt his soulmate since that first day when they were seven.
Billy was thankful to have a week without Harrington at school.
The first day had nearly sent Billy into a tailspin—had Steve really been so hurt that he couldn’t make it to school? Was he okay? Was he alive? That is, until Tommy asked what happened to his face and Billy was reminded that he knew, startlingly, how badly hurt Harrington was.
“You should see the other guy,” Billy chuckled to Tommy, turning to face inside his locker before his carefully neutral expression cracked at the thought.
Maybe it was better this way, so no one would notice how oddly similar their injuries really were.
But then the days dragged on and Harrington still wasn’t there. At lunch, he saw the open place where the boy normally sat and he saw the way Wheeler and Byers openly stared at him, glaring in a way that had him wondering if they knew more than they should about the depth of that night’s events.
Billy would still rather sit under their knowing stares, knowing that he’d hurt his soulmate in the way he swore he never would, than be at home.
“You know you don’t have to knock,” Billy shouted out when a hesitant rap sounded on his bedroom door. He was sitting on the ground, back pressed to his closet as he tried to focus on homework. None of that shit seemed to matter compared to what else was going on though, especially since winter break was looming ever closer.
“It still feels right,” Max practically whispered after undoing the lock outside his door and swinging it open.
Because that had been the punishment for not bringing Max home that night, a lock was installed on the outside of his door. The rules had been clear—come home, get in his room, and someone will make sure he stayed there until his dad decided it was acceptable for him to leave the room.
There was too much there for Billy to even begin to consider how it made him feel, locked in here like a fucking dog.
“What do you want, shitbird?”
Max was hesitant for probably the first time in her life. She clung to the doorway, hand still on the doorknob like she considered just pulling it tight and relatching the lock. Her face changed though and in one hurried movement, she was shutting the door and walking closer to him, arms crossed over her chest in some false show of confidence.
“Steve’s going back to school Monday, Dustin told me so,” she said.
“Why do I care about Harrington’s truancy?” Billy asked, though couldn’t help the sudden buzzing in his chest at the thought. How would he handle this now? How could he possibly come up with the perfect solution to all of this in just the weekend?
“I’m not stupid, you know,” Max snapped, rolling her blue eyes in a way that made Billy want to scream at her, wanted to hurl enough nasty words at her that she’d leave. But when he parted his lips, the memory of her bringing that bat down far too close to him silenced any of the planned words. “He’s really hurt. He’s been putting on a brave face for us but he’s really messed up about all this. You should talk to him.”
“You should think about telling me what to do,” Billy instinctively snapped. “Get out.”
Max watched him for a moment, maybe waiting for the anger to fade and an apology to come. When none of that happened, though, she sighed and headed back to his door. “Neil’s not coming back until tomorrow. I’m not locking this shit.”
A lazily thrown sock hit the back of the door as she closed it behind her.
The conversation was supposed to go very differently, in Billy’s defense.
He’d spent all weekend going through the options, running through what was supposed to happen and how he could best spare his soulmate from further harm. He would explain the absences for years at a time, would explain why he couldn’t risk words on skin anymore, would explain everything that it took to convince Harrington that this was messier than he deserved.
But then Harrington turned and every ounce of air in Billy’s chest vacated with a harsh slam. He’d seen his own face, of course, and knew what was there should also be reflected on Steve’s. But this was the first time he’d seen the damage he’d inflicted on Harrington, on his soulmate, and it sent the vice grip on his heart squeezing, squeezing, squeezing until he was sure he’d pass out on the spot.
That was his soulmate’s face that was bruised and swollen. It had healed considerably in the span of a week but Billy could recognize the pain lingering in Harrington’s eyes like he was trying not to show anyone else around him just how hurt he was. But Billy knew. Billy knew because he’d practiced that look for years, he knew because he was the one who caused it on Harrington this time.
So instead of every confession Billy had hanging at his lips, the worst possible words slipped out. “We have nothing to talk about.”
Soulmate. Soulmate. Soulmate. Yours, the one person you were never supposed to hurt. You’re going to ruin him like Neil destroyed your mo—
“We’re nothing to each other. Let’s keep it that way, Harrington.”
He couldn’t do this. So Billy hurried to the one escape he knew would work. Neil would kill him for missing a day of school but at this point the slam of fists in his ribs would be impossibly better than seeing the clear shock and hurt in Harrington’s eyes as Billy discarded him so cruelly.
It’s for the best, pretty boy, it’s for your own good, please believe me.
But for all the brave faces Billy put on, he still couldn’t completely walk away from Steve. It haunted him, seeing that crumbling of the other man’s expression as those words fell between them. It left him awake at night, wondering if there was ever a time, later down the road when Neil wasn’t so much a threat, that Harrington could forgive him.
The first time he redrew that heart, it was an honest-to-God accident. It was a Friday night and everyone else was going to a party at Tina’s. Instead, he was stuck in his bedroom locked from the outside in, and sure he could have snuck out the window but it wouldn’t have been worth it. All his homework was done and Billy was bored.
It was just a doodle. He’d grabbed the purple pen he kept hidden deep in his backpack (the one he rarely, if ever, actually took to school) and drew on his hip. It was comforting, seeing the shape there reflected back at him.
Except, when a few minutes passed and there was no return the weight of what he’d done smacked him in the chest. Billy panicked, wondering if he should wipe it off or simply deal with the consequences tomorrow. Maybe that would be best, to let Harrington yell and scream at him, maybe even throw a few punches if it was bad enough.
But then tomorrow came and Harrington never said a word. He never even looked at Billy, actually.
So he continued. He continued drawing and somewhere along the way it began to feel as though he hadn’t lost anything at all. His soulmate was just busy, he was just trying to hide what they had between them. He hadn’t thrown away his soulmate, hadn’t hurt him in every single way possible. He could have him back, someday.
It was easier over winter break.
The rest of them were traveling a lot, going to visit Susan’s family out west. Neil had made it clear that Billy wasn’t going, that he didn’t want to embarrass himself with his queer son.
It stung, but ultimately Billy couldn’t be more pleased. It meant he had a couple of weeks to himself, a handful of days of complete freedom.
And he knew just what he wanted to do with it.
The second Neil’s car was pulling out of the drive, so was the Camaro. Billy had spent all night trying to get ready, trying to find some outfit that could possibly help him convince his soulmate of his grand plan. Now, he made his way to the other side of town going the speed limit for the first time since moving there, hands shaking at the thought of what was to come.
Billy knew the most likely outcome was getting a door shut in his face. After all the fists he’d thrown, all the harsh words and ‘mind games’ as Harrington had called them, there was absolutely no reason Harrington should trust him now. He just hoped being soulmates was enough to give him a chance.
Billy didn’t know where the Harringtons lived exactly, but he knew from hearing Max talk as well as the rest of the school that the Harringtons ruled this town. They had the best of everything, including the largest house. And pulling onto the wealthiest street Billy knew of, it wasn’t hard to pick it out.
“Mansion wasn’t an exaggeration,” Billy mumbled under his breath, taking a moment to sit in his car and consider what the fuck he was actually doing. There was still time to turn on his car again, to pull out of the long driveway and pretend this never happened.
Instead, Billy got out of the car, making his way up to the front door with hands shoved deep in his jeans pockets. It looked like every light was on in the house, but the only car he saw around was Steve’s BMW. He knew the parents weren’t often around, just based on how Max talked about hanging around there so often lately. It all seemed too strange, honestly.
“Henderson, I’m telling you I do—oh.” That familiar voice immediately began ranting as soon as the front door opened, though cut off abruptly when Harrington realized who was standing there. Billy watched as his expression shuttered, eyes widening before narrowing again, eyebrows dipped in confusion. “Is Max okay?”
“What? Why wouldn’t she be?” Billy retorted, confused at the immediate mention of his step-sister. “She wasn’t kidding, you really are a god damn mother hen, aren’t you, Harrington?”
“Is there a reason you’re here?” Harrington sighed, shoulders dropping to look even more resigned to be there. Billy looked over every inch of Harrington’s face, trying to find some evidence that he wasn’t completely unwanted.
It was December, so any trace of the fight was now long gone. Instead, it seemed to be replaced by sheer exhaustion. Deep circles clung to the undersides of Harrington’s eyes, and his hair wasn’t nearly as perfectly styled as normal. Logic might have told him that it was because it was the middle of the night, but it looked more than that, more bone-deep.
“You mean other than being soulmates?”
That properly shocked Harrington. The guy’s perfect fucking lips even dropped open partly, eyes widened impossibly far. He just watched Billy, almost waiting to see if this was some cruel joke or not. Then the exact thing Billy didn’t want to see happen unfolded before him. His expression closed off as Harrington actually scoffed.
“Last I checked, we were nothing to each other,” Harrington snapped, hands going to his hips and gripping tightly there as if to keep his hands from doing anything else he’d regret later.
“You’re gonna hold onto that forever, aren’t you?” Billy protested, throwing his own hands up like he couldn’t believe Harrington actually had the gall to do so when really, he would’ve expected nothing less. “I didn’t mean it like that, okay?”
“How else was I supposed to take it?” Steve shouted, “You could’ve said anything else and it would’ve been better!”
“I already fucking know that!” Billy yelled back, wondering why his soulmate couldn’t have been someone a little even-tempered. Even from the beginning Harrington had gotten on his nerves and had caused a reaction out of him unlike anyone else ever had. Maybe he should have known from the start, then, that Harrington was meant to be someone special to him. “You don’t understand!”
“Maybe I would if you’d actually talk to me!”
“That’s what I’m trying to do, asshole!”
Both of them were out of breath despite neither having moved from their spots on either side of the doorframe. Billy watched Harrington then, watched as those brown eyes searched his own for something. The other man seemed to find it, though, because he strangely laughed, all breathy and a little sharp around the edges.
“You’re better with your hands than your mouth,” Harrington teased, and this, well this Billy could do.
He winked, letting his tongue run along his lips before calling back, “I can show you just how good I am with my mouth, pretty boy.”
“Fuck,” Harrington breathed out, brown eyes looking up to the ceiling and cheeks bursting red. Billy would be a liar if he said his chest didn’t flutter at the sight of how much he’d affected him.
And then it happened. Billy never would have expected it, but it was the very thing he’d hoped would happen when he drove out here that night. “Maybe I’m crazy for this, but get inside. We’ll try one more time at this,” Harrington conceded, “just once.”
So Billy crossed over the threshold into the Harrington’s giant fucking mansion, wondering when he’d ever gotten another chance at anything. Maybe soulmates really were something important, after all.
The first word Billy could come up with to describe the house was sterile. It was clear the family had money and plenty of it. The furniture was all modern and new, with protective covers over the couches and chairs that looked like they’d never been used ever. He could see the lights of a pool in the backyard and wondered briefly why Harrington wouldn’t spend every second he could in a pool like that.
Except instead of being in the pool, Harrington was standing awkwardly in front of him, hands gesturing around like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with them.
“Do you want—” Harrington sighed, running a hand through his already wild hair. “Need anything to drink, Hargrove?”
“D’you have beer?”
That pulled another laugh out of Harrington, another breathy one like he wasn’t quite sure if he could make the full sound in front of Billy. By the end of the night, Billy was determined to hear that full, uninhibited laugh. “Yeah, good idea. Let’s have a beer,” Harrington conceded.
Through a few other strange conversations, the pair ended up on the roof of the Harrington castle, each holding onto a beer with a couple more tucked behind them as spares. It was easier here, outside where Billy could turn his focus to the stars. There were never this many stars back in California, where all the bright lights shielded them from view. It was almost peaceful here in Indiana, where the wind prickled at Billy’s skin to remind him of where he was and the moon shone down on them like a gentle beacon.
“Why now?” Harrington finally asked, not looking at Billy thankfully. Those brown eyes were too much sometimes like they could see deep into Billy in a way that no one had been able to in years. He didn’t like it, feeling that on display. “What changed your mind?”
Billy didn’t answer right away. How could he? He knew, of course, that Harrington was aware of what went on in his house but how could he say it aloud? He’d never told anyone, not so directly.
Luckily Harrington liked to talk when he was nervous, a habit Billy had picked up on just from watching his interactions with other people. He didn’t like to sit in the quiet, didn’t want to experience any tension when he could just as easily continue trying to remedy the situation.
“Max said your family was on vacation. You didn’t want to go?”
It was Billy’s turn to scoff, the pull of his lips into a frown hidden by his pull on the beer. “Wasn’t invited.”
“You...weren’t invited to your own family’s Christmas vacation?” Harrington clarified, and fuck if it didn’t sound brutal like that.
“Nah,” Billy answered, hoping to sound more blase about it than he felt. He never wanted to actually go to some random relative of Susan’s house, he never wanted to pretend to be someone he wasn’t over the Christmas feast and pretend any of them actually wanted him there. He didn’t want any of that, really, but to know that he was so different, so disliked, that his dad could just completely replace him with a new family? That stung in ways Billy had never expected. “Don’t worry about me, pretty boy. I’m better off here.”
There was a pause. Billy could just see Harrington in his peripheral vision, and what he saw made his jaw tighten with nerves. Harrington was facing him now, fingers tapping idly on the beer can he held between both hands. The other man was chewing on his lower lip like it was taking everything in him not to say what he was thinking. His brown eyes looked, well, sad beyond belief. No one had ever looked at him like that, not without any disappointment slipped in alongside it.
“I’m not talking about that tonight,” Billy told him without ever once turning to face him, preferring instead to start the impossible task of counting the stars in the sky. It was better that way, gave him time to carefully build the wall between his expression and the memories he knew would be brought up by Harrington now.
“If you ever did want to talk about it t—”
“I won’t.”
“If you did,” Harrington pushed, and Billy only faintly wondered if the beer was enough to instill false confidence in the other boy because then their hands were touching—and fuck if that didn’t take away any lingering bit of anger in Billy. Because after so many years of wondering what holding his soulmate’s hand would be like, he finally was getting the idea.
They couldn’t exactly call it a handhold. Billy’s hand was rested flat on the roof, fingerpads scraped against the shingles. Steve’s was placed only partially over his, only covering the space near his pinky and ring fingers. He didn’t apply pressure or anything, either, just let it rest there as proof of what they could have, someday.
It meant everything. He never thought he would get this, and even if it was only ever this, then he would take it and cherish the memory.
Billy turned his head away from Harrington, hoping that it would be enough to hide the color flushing his cheeks now. Why did this feel more intimate than any night he’d spent in bed or the backseat of a car with random guys, how could one touch of the hand completely ruin him?
Steve Harrington would be the death of him someday, of that Billy was sure.
“If I did,” Billy conceded, not sure he’d ever want to put into words what Harrington could already catalog in bruises, “you’d be the first I’d go to.”
“No shit?”
It was so out of place and yet so fucking Harrington it made Billy nearly giddy. He laughed, nothing hidden by layers of fear or anger, just him sharing a moment with a guy he supposed he could really care about someday.
“Yeah, Harrington, no shit.”
“Steve.”
“What?”
“Well, if we’re actually doing this whole soulmates thing, then maybe we should get used to using our first names,” Harrington, Steve, suggested, suddenly looking sheepish. He rubbed at the back of his neck before shrugging, giving him a look like ‘what can you do?’
“One step at a time, princess,” Billy chuckled like he wouldn’t start trying to make the change anyway, pulling himself up to stand on the roof and holding his hand out to help Steve up. “C’mon, it’s cold as fuck out here.”
“Will you stay? Tonight, I mean,” Steve offered once they’d climbed back in through the window they’d escaped from. The decline was on the tip of Billy’s tongue, ready to make an excuse that his dad needed him home.
But no, that wasn’t true, was it? He had two weeks of peace, of freedom. Why not spend it living the fantasy life he wanted but knew he couldn’t have?
Billy knew he had exactly two weeks to have a soulmate before Neil came home and he’d have to give everything up. And maybe it was a little selfish, but he was willing to take the risk that Steve would understand, eventually.
“Sure, why not,” Billy agreed, feeling more reckless than he did speeding forty over the speed limit.
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TITLE: Regarding the Sinclairs [3] PAIRING: Arthur Morgan/Fem!Reader REQUEST: Unprompted. BLURB: You had always assumed the stories of time travel in your family were just that. Stories. At worst, maybe an inside joke. However, your world starts to shift when your grandfather leaves his home to you in his will. The old Sinclair house, one that has been passed down for generations. Taking up the task of moving into and upgrading the home, a man dressed like he just stepped out of a western arrives, unconscious, on your porch with a letter in his hand. WARNINGS: None for this chapter. NOTE: I apologize for the wait! I’m posting this chapter and the most recent is queued to post later this week.
Arthur was withdrawn the next afternoon–which you figured you should have expected.
You could only imagine the confusion he was experiencing, as much as you tried to explain what you could to him when you found him playing with the main hall’s light switch when you came back downstairs. You weren’t much of a historian, not from the period he was from anyway. Though, you could make an educated guess that he had no idea how most modern technologies worked.
Considering you not exactly knowing the details of how they worked either, it made you realize just how common a lot of them were. There was also the issue of trying to explain things in a way that didn’t belittle his intelligence or talk to him like a kid. Still, explaining things like how you didn’t have an outhouse and how the toilet works, along with the sink and shower, was just odd. Still, Arthur was a little more curious than you had expected, and a fast learner.
Still, it was a bit of a process. You wondered if you could get culture shock from a country you never left, but traveling this far ahead in time probably left him with the same experience.
So, his growing quietness in the evening made sense. You were trying to make something you both could eat from what little food you moved in with. Toast and eggs, which wasn’t amazing but it was something at least. Though, Arthur’s voice from behind you pulled you from your thoughts.
“I’m dead, ain’t I?”
You cast him a glance over your shoulder, meeting his gaze for a few moments before you returned to making sure the eggs didn’t burn. The answer was a simple one: yes. Yet, you didn’t want to say it too bluntly. Arthur seemed pretty collected so far, but there was only so much a person could take. You probably would have been freaking out if you were in his situation.
Still, you let out a sigh as you reached out to burn off the burner.
“Well, you have a grave,” you replied, “It’s actually part of a larger historical site, but…well, it’s just a headache waiting to happen trying to figure out if there’s a body under there if you’re sitting here.”
“I ain’t gonna pretend to make sense of that,” he muttered, “...So, you seen it?”
“When I was thirteen,” you replied as you pulled some plates from the cupboard, “I had a history teacher take us there as part of our schooling.”
“What kinda school takes kids to see a grave?”
“The gang you ran with is actually pretty well known among old west scholars,” you said around a small chuckle, “Some of them, at least. Your journal is actually a commonly cited source. I guess my teacher figured it would be worthwhile to see.”
He didn’t reply to that as you put the food onto two plates and brought them to the table. You couldn’t read Arthur’s expression much as you passed him a plate, not too sure what he made of all of that. It was a lot of information to process–if you were still trying to wrap your head around him being here, you had no doubt it was ten times worse for him.
“I’m actually pretty sure there are some of Jack Marston’s books here somewhere, if you want to read those,” you continued as you sat down.
“Little Jack?”
“Yeah, I suppose so,” you replied with a soft nod, “He wrote about the final years of his dad’s life. Outside of your journal, I’ve seen those books mentioned a lot too.”
Arthur fell silent at that, too. You could see an almost far-off look in his eyes, a stab of sympathy hitting your gut. You reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder, his gaze turning to meet yours.
“Eat. You’ve taken in a lot of information today, you don’t need to sort through all of that right now.”
You really didn’t know how to handle Arthur in this situation–especially with the fact that you were still trying to come to terms with it yourself. Still, he seemed to take your suggestion as he started to pick at what was on his plate. As mentioned, the meal wasn’t much at the moment but you were a little hungrier than you thought you were.
“You think it’d be wise to go see it?” Arthur asked after a moment, the question taking you a little off guard.
You stared at him for a moment before you turned it over in your head. There was the fact that if Arthur’s actual body was still buried under that grave and he was currently sitting in your kitchen, you didn’t know if that would change anything about that site. Yet, outside of him appearing here, nothing really did change. It was a little too mind-boggling to sort through. However, there was also the mental toll. You didn’t know how you would feel upon seeing your own grave, but…
“You want to see it?”
Arthur let your question sit for a few moments, seeming to debate that within himself. “Guess…well, might help me see the full picture here.”
“I’ll be willing to take a day or two drive up there with you, but only if you’re certain. I can’t make any promises on what will happen.”
“Thought you had the answers to everythin’,” he muttered sarcastically as you let out a huff in return.
“Well, I don’t. I really don’t.”
“I guess I do want to see it,” Arthur continued around a sigh, “I never really…got to see how things played out.”
“I can’t imagine seeing my own grave. I figured it might be the same feeling for you, but if you think it’ll be worthwhile, I’ll take you up to the site.”
You still weren’t sure what your role was in all of this. Francis had written that he saw a ‘favorable outcome’ with Arthur in your care, but you didn’t know if it was someone who got him on his feet and he took off eventually to do his own thing or if this was supposed to be some long-term situation. Still, you didn’t want to hinder the process unless you felt it was absolutely warranted.
“Just…give me a couple days,” you continued, picking up your now empty plate, “I’m still trying to adjust to all of this too.”
***
Honestly, you had completely forgotten your parents were coming up to see you.
Between helping Arthur adjust to the time period, you keeping an eye on when your online courses were supposed to start, and planning this little road trip, the stress in you wasn’t hard to miss. For the most part, nothing really needed to be done urgently. Your mother had texted that she was bringing you some extra food along with some money to help you out. Yet, you still hadn’t told them about Arthur.
You honestly had no idea how to even start the conversation. ‘Hey, you remember my great, great, great uncle Francis? Yeah, he dropped Arthur Morgan on my doorstep. I’ve been trying to help him settle into the modern world, it’s a big change from the late nineteenth century.’
It wasn’t a conversation you were going to have. Not yet, anyway.
“You were an outlaw, right? You any good at coming up with aliases?”
Arthur glanced at you over his shoulder as you quickly walked down the stairs onto the main floor, furrowing his eyebrows somewhat.
“I guess. Why? Your parents gonna turn me in?”
“No, but my dad’s interested in old west stuff. Your name might cause some recognition and I don’t know if we want to deal with that right now.”
“Dutch used to have a universal one that I used a couple times. Tacitus Kilgore.”
“I’ve seen that alias referred to when talking about Dutch, it might not be the best idea. You have any others? Plus, you will get looks with a name like that.”
“If ya care so damn much, guess there’s also Arthur Callahan.���
“It’s…still odd, but that works.”
“Why’re you so worked up?” Arthur asked, making you let out a soft huff.
“I don’t know, maybe because I have a long-dead outlaw in my living room who was part of a rather infamous gang. I’m just…a little stressed. The alias helps, I can deal with the rest.”
You didn’t mean to get snippy with him, but at the moment you could only feel a tight ball of stress sitting in your gut. Regardless, Arthur seemed to be cooperative for the most part as you continued to unpack–it would reduce your parent’s stay into just a visit, but with how things had played out recently you figured that was a good thing. For the most part, upstairs was pretty good to go. There was a spare bedroom that you figured you would give to Arthur the next day so he didn’t have to continue to sleep on the couch.
At least, that was the least you could do. You didn’t want to make the assumption that he’d be staying indefinitely, but with what you knew, you couldn’t find it in yourself to just send him off after a couple days.
It was around evening when the familiar car pulled up to the driveway, Arthur not exactly looking impressed with the added company, but you had caught his curiosity about the cars. Though he kept the questions to himself for now, it seemed. You had convinced him to change into a shirt and jeans, something he already had. You figured it looked ‘modern’ enough for the town that he wouldn’t raise any questions from your family.
Though, of course, the surprise upon your mother’s features when she saw him was expected.
“Oh, I didn’t know you had company so soon.”
“Nice to meet you, m’am,” Arthur greeted as your mother gave him a friendly smile and nod, though the question in her gaze when she looked at you was hard to miss.
“Yeah, this is Arthur. We’re doing a roommate sort of situation,” you explained, hoping the little story you made up would be enough, “I figure it’d help with some bills and he’s been a great help with unpacking.”
“Well, as long as that’s what you want…” your mother said under her breath as you took some bags of food from her, casting a glance at Arthur and your father over your shoulder.
“It’s fine,” you replied.
It wasn’t like you had much choice in the matter, anyway. You still weren’t sure if you should be angry at Francis or impressed he had managed to do all of this with no indication that he was. Still, you tried not to show too much stress in your actions as you helped your mother put some of the food away.
Still, your father, ever the host, had roped Arthur into helping him set up that fire pit in the backyard he had always talked about. You caught Arthur’s gaze with an apologetic smile before returning to your task.
As much as the situation seemed to be settling, you couldn’t help but feel you had a couple long days ahead of you.
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can u do a blurb about reader wanting a baby and asking her co-worker Spencer to be the donor because he's smart and nice and she wants a cute baby?
you said blurb and i read 2K word fic apparently lmao
Late nights behind a desk were the worst. Y/N hated reading over case file, after case file, of horrific things as she tried to choose where they went next.
The only plus side was that she wasn’t alone, Spencer was at his desk just beside her. Like he always was. They had an interesting friendship, to say the least.
Ever since Y/N joined the BAU, Spencer and her were glued at the hip. They had all the same interests, liked the same music and movies, and they spat out information the same way, they were like each other’s dorky other half— but it was just a friendship.
They had a tradition to watch at least one movie together after a case, to just chill for a bit together. Always randomly picking one of their apartments to go to, spending the night together until one of them eventually wandered off to bed. Leaving the other on the couch.
They weren’t aware of their feelings for each other for a while. Both of them being so used to being alone, and never having anyone be interested in them before. It was hard to understand if the feelings they had were pure friendship, or if it could ever be more. If the sex would fuck everything up and take away that perfect happy place they found in each other, or would it make the bond stronger?
She noticed the crush before Spencer showed any signs of liking her back. She woke up every morning thinking of him, that's when she came to the conclusion that it was more than just a friendship. She wanted him in her life forever, she wanted to kiss his perfect lips and hug his soft body, wake up beside his messy hair and just love him for the rest of eternity.
She sighed as she picked up another file, not excited to learn about the horrible acts taking place in what people called, “the best country in the world.” She’d disagree any day of the week.
This one was a file about some missing kids apparently being spotted in a van altogether in Georgia, it looked interesting enough to be the next case. She hated reading all the info, seeing every kid's happy face in the file knowing that’s not how they looked now.
“Good god,” she groaned as she flipped through the case.
“What’s wrong?” Spencer asked over the divider.
“Nothing,” she shrugged, “just a bad case.”
She handed it to him over the desk, hearing him flip through all the sheets as he read a million words a minute. “We should show this to Emily first thing,” Spencer agreed, pushing himself over to her desk in his wheely chair.
“I will,” she smiled softly, taking the file back from him and placing it on her desk.
Spencer stood then, making his way into her space and rubbing his hand over her back slightly. “Are you okay?”
She sighed, “actually. no, I was telling Garcia I want to have a baby soon, and then I see things like this and I’m scared to do it alone but I don’t have any other option?” Ranting to him like he was her therapist.
“What do you mean?”
She turned in her chair to look up at him, his soft brown eyes really caring to hear the answer. “Sit,” she insisted.
He pulled the chair over more, sitting close enough that their knees touched. “I’m 36, I’m not having any luck finding a husband or a wife, I want a baby and if I have to do it myself I will, but what if I’m not enough? What if I have a boy and he grows up to be a killer cause he never had a dad?”
“Y/N,” Spencer’s voice was soft as he looked at her with a confused scrunch on his face. “That couldn’t happen, you’re a wonderful person, I love having you on the team and in my life, I know you’d raise good kids, you should do it.”
“Really?” She beamed at him, the words touching her heart and making her swoon a bit.
“I mean, it would be hard,” he added reason to the conversation. “You’d have to take time off, which would be good for bonding. My mother raised me alone and I turned out semi-fine, I don't hold any resentment for her not finding someone for me to call dad or even step-mom for that matter. I think if you give them all the love in the world like I know you’re capable of, your child will love you like you’re their whole world.”
She laughed as she noticed the tears welling in her eyes, waving her hand's in front of her face so she wouldn’t fully sob. “Do you want to be the donor?” She made a joke to change the topic.
Spencer laughed then too, “sure!”
Everything got serious again then, she looked at him a little differently. “Really? Cause honestly, you’re like a Grade A donor profile in the most expensive clinic!” She couldn’t help herself from laughing again at the absurdity.
“I’ve always wanted to be a dad, 40 isn’t too old to have a child, is it?” He seemed to have decided that rather fast.
“Okay,” she nodded with a smile, “okay. That’s cool, sick,” she felt the words get smaller as she thought it over.
“I get it if you were kidding,” Spencer spat out. “I realize now that you might have been making a joke, I hope it’s not weird that I agreed so fast, it’s just that I think you’re a very beautiful and smart woman and the idea of helping you make a child makes me really excited. I think it would be a very good idea if you were being serious, but I get it if you’re not.”
She let him get it all out, always loving when he got like this on a case or in person, nervous or just because he wanted to talk, she loved to listen. And no one ever let him finish his thoughts, always wanting to beat him to the punch.
“Spence, I think you’re really handsome and smart too,” she smiled. “If you’re also serious, I am too.”
“How would we?” He asked as he pulled at the top button of his dress shirt, swallowing like he couldn't breathe all of a sudden.
“If you’re not opposed, I’m sure the good old-fashioned way would work?” She laughed, laying her hand on his knee softly.
It was like sparks flew at that moment as if all the fluorescent lights in the bullpen could have exploded and she wouldn’t have even noticed. Captivated by Spencer's eyes as he gasped at her touch.
“Not opposed in the slightest,” he said softly as he held his own hand over hers.
She couldn’t help herself from smiling. “Well, I think I’m all done here if you want to come to my place for a movie?”
“Sure,” he replied, offering her a hand as they stood up together.
He returned his chair to his desk, both of them grabbing their coats and bags and rejoining at the door.
“I should go say goodnight to Penny,” Y/N said softly. “Wanna come?”
“Yeah,” he followed her through the door and down the hall to the tech room.
“Knock knock,” Y/N said as she walked through the open door. “Oh great and knowledgeable one, I’ve come with my nightly farewell.”
“Oh my knight, I shall miss you,” Penelope played along, sauntering over to her and wrapping her up in a hug. “I leave you with this until your return.”
“Through scorching deserts, and blistering winds, I will make it back to you, always,” she tried not to laugh as she hugged her back. “I also brought forth the jester.”
Spencer was laughing in the doorway as the two of them looked at him, “hi?”
“The pretty boy, to what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Um,” Y/N smiled, “Spencer and I are just going back for our nightly movie.”
Penelope looked at both of them, jaw slightly gaped, “nightly? I thought it was a case by case thing?”
“It’s a good excuse for us to talk,” Spencer smiled at her.
“Mhmm,” she smirked, “well have fun.”
She pulled Y/N back into another hug, hiding her face from Spencer, “I need all the dirty deets in the morning.”
Y/N smacked her arm softly as she pulled back, “goodnight pretty penny.”
“Farewell brave knight, handle with care, Jester,” Penelope pointed her finger at him, giving him a knowing glance.
“Yes, oh Knowledgeable one, always,” he blushed.
He reached out his hand for Y/N, interlocking their fingers as they left her office and headed towards the elevator. A rare moment of bravery on his part, holding hands like this didn’t spread a lot of germs.
“We’re going to have to discuss a lot of logistics like realistically this isn’t going to be just a fuck and oh look its a baby. This is a real live baby that we need to raise and care for,” she reminded him as the elevator doors shut.
“I’d like to be as involved as you’d let me be,” Spencer replied. “I don’t have to be 'dad' to them, I could be uncle Spence that’s fine too.”
“Oh no, you’d be Dad for sure,” she nudged him slightly. “I mean like, weekends and holidays and birthdays, your mom will want to see them surely, my parents will want to see them. Housing,” she looked at him horrified. “I have an apartment with 2 bedrooms, I don’t think I could let them sleep somewhere without me.”
“I have been looking at houses,” Spencer added before the doors opened to the garage, “you’re driving right?”
“Yeah, you were saying?” She replied, digging her keys out of her purse and leading him towards the car.
“Derek Morgan, I’m not sure if you’ve met him yet, he fixes up old homes in DC and Virginia now. He just finished one and I helped him with it. I think I’m going to buy it from him. It has 4 bedrooms, we could all live under the same roof? It would be easier to co-parent.”
She was amazed at how fast he adapted to this as if he’d been having the same thoughts she was having. At a certain point wanting kids becomes a pipe dream filled with desperation and emptiness, he looks like he’s experienced it too.
She opened her door and sat down before replying to him again. Thinking about how wonderful he was going to be during this process, “thank you, Spencer.”
“For what?” He asked as they both closed their doors.
She sighed, relaxing into her seat as she started the car. She turned to him softly, not wanting to cry as she spoke softly. “Being a mom is more of a dream to me than joining the BAU was, this is the best gift you could give me.”
He reached his hand out again, holding it softly. Running his thumb over her knuckles. “Can I tell you a secret?”
“Yeah,” she nodded softly.
He couldn’t make eye contact with her, staring at their hands as he rubbed her skin.
“Um, I’ve been pretty infatuated with you since you joined,” he let it out finally. Like a ton of bricks off his back he relaxed a bit, “after everything with Maeve, Cat and Max… oh god, and JJ... I was so worried that if I got too close to you I’d lose you. I tried to keep the feelings in, that's why I said what I did to Penelope. She knows how I feel about you.”
It was like fireworks were going off in her chest as the butterflies erupted inside of her. She sat up, turning to him more and ripping her hand from his grasp.
It startled him, he looked at her anxiously as if she was going to yell at him. But she placed both hands on his cheeks and pulled him into a kiss.
His arms snaked around her waist, wishing they could get closer if it wasn’t for the damn centre console of her car. Pressing their lips together, hard, as they breathed each other in. Desperation taking control, she wasn’t able to let go of him.
When she finally did pull away, however, the look on his face was priceless. Like expensive art, every line and freckle had a meaning. He was surprised, enamoured, grateful, desperate for more.
She smiled softly, rubbing her thumbs over his cheek. “Good, cause it would be awkward having your baby and not getting to love you every day too.”
taglist: @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria @spookyspence @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @samuel-de-champagne-problems @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @calm-and-doctor
#spencer reid#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#spencer reid self insert#spencer reid request#criminal minds smut#criminal minds imagine
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36, 60, and 71, if you can combine prompts for one request! was thinking like an accident happens, and jj’s freaking out, but there’s a happy ending obviously. If you only want 1 prompt, let’s go with 60 :)
congrats on 1k lovely!! you deserve it, and keep up all your amazing work ❤️
thanks for the request!! i kinda went in a different direction but i hope you like this! :)
masterlist
1k celebration blurbs
60. So I accidentally told her that I loved her. What do I do?
71. I didn't know how to tell you [before].
***
“Shit, shit, shit,” JJ murmured under his breath. His thoughts were running wild but he couldn’t process a single one of them. The confident and easy-going pogue had turned into a nervous mess, and he had nobody to blame but himself.
“JB, you better fucking answer,” he panted into his cellphone that was pressed to his face. He waited impatiently as he heard the ringing in his ear, all while basically running in the direction of the Chateau.
Right as JJ was about to hang up and try again, his best friend John B. finally picked up.
“Hey, what’s up, man? Are you coming by later? Pope and Kie are already here and we got the beer--”
“JB, I fucked up. I fucked up, I fucked up, I fucked up.”
“Woah, JJ, relax. What happened?” John B. immediately had a thousand different ideas of the trouble his friend could be in and ultimately assumed the worst. He had stopped everything to listen intently to JJ on the phone.
JJ sighed, still feeling like he wasn’t in complete control of his body. “JJ. What is it?” John B. asked again. He was getting more scared by the second about what could possibly be wrong. Did JJ do something to his dad? Is he running from the cops again?
“I accidentally told her that I love her. What the fuck do I do?” His tone was desperate, eyebrows creased in worry. He needed his best friend to tell him what to do.
JJ was a quick thinker, always able to escape trouble when he needed to. But this was different. Years of friendship out the window. He was convinced he had just ruined everything and that you would never want to see him again.
John B., of course, knew exactly who JJ was referring to. JJ only ever had feelings for you. Even with the string of random girls coming and leaving JJ’s bedroom, nobody compared to you.
Much to JJ’s dismay, he could hear his friend’s booming laughter through the phone. “Hey man, that’s great! Good for you,” John B. laughed. He was relieved that it wasn’t something actually bad, and was thankful JJ’s situation was amusing instead.
“It’s not great, and it’s definitely not funny,” JJ grumbled. “Can you be serious for a second? My life just blew up in my face and it’s my own damn fault.”
“Hey, seriously, you need to relax. Did she actually reject you?” John B. asked carefully.
“She would have if I would’ve stuck around to hear it.”
“What does that mean?”
“I ran away, okay?!” JJ yelled. “I got the hell out of there before she could even say anything.” Yep, he wanted to punch himself in the face for that. But he didn’t mean to spill his feelings all over you. It was all just a huge mistake.
It was something that couldn’t be helped, though. There you were, standing on the beach looking as beautiful as always. Your hair blew softly in the breeze as the golden sun gave your figure a gracious glow. The sight of you was enough to knock the air right out of JJ’s lungs.
Your smile lit up your pretty face as you told your good friend JJ all about the guy you were going on a date with tonight. The handsome stranger had been charming, and you had to admit you were a bit smitten. Not many guys have had the courage to walk up to you to ask you out.
JJ could tell you were excited, but a burning jealousy seeped into his bones. He willed himself to keep his mouth shut, but JJ had never been the best at self-control.
“I don’t think you should go out with this guy,” he said.
You looked at him confused. “Why not?”
He sighed, already kicking himself for speaking up. “Y/N, you don’t know him. He could be a murderer. He could be an asshole just wanting to get laid.” He was prepared to go on, but you cut him off.
“JJ, I’m a big girl. I can handle myself.” You couldn’t read him. You were used to JJ being protective, but he was acting strange. You could tell something else was on his mind but you couldn’t even begin to guess what it was. He couldn’t even look at you.
You grabbed a hold of his hand so that he would look back at you, finding his bright blue eyes clouded in anger? Disappointment? “What is this about?”
“What about for me? Would you ditch this guy for me?” Oh god, he’s already said too much, but it’s too late now. His gaze was fixed on you as you furrowed your brows in confusion.
“I don’t understand...”
“What if I told you I was in love with you?” It felt like the whole world stopped as he waited for your reaction. “Would you ditch him then?”
You didn’t think you heard him right. Did he just say he’s in love with you!? No, you must have water in your ears or something.
The short silence from you was the only answer he needed. With a nod and a frown, he tore himself away from you. “Just forget it,” he grumbled, already marching away.
“JJ, wait!” you called after him. He was already running from the situation and you hardly even had two seconds to process it all. “JJ!”
He didn’t listen to you and continued fleeing as fast as possible, wondering what the hell he had done.
That brings us back to the present. JJ had finally made it to the Chateau. John B. had filled Pope, Kie, and Sarah in on the situation, making JJ’s ears and face burn in embarrassment. At the same time though, he didn’t care what any of them thought. He only cared about you.
What were you calling after him for? What would you have said if JJ hadn’t run away? Do you want him out of your life because he made things weird?? Are you about to fall madly in love with this stupid guy you’re going out with right now???
“JJ, it’s okay. Come sit down and chill,” Kie brought JJ out of his wild imagination for a brief moment. It felt as if his heart was still beating much faster than it should. He felt restless but also like there was nothing he could do to fix any of it.
He only sat down in the hammock because Kiara had dragged him there. JJ felt like he was in a daze, not really paying attention to the world outside of his mind. Pope had handed him a beer and JJ gulped half of it down without even thinking about it. Conversation started up around him but he didn’t hear anything... until someone said your name.
“Oh look, Y/N’s here,” John B. announced, shoving JJ’s shoulder. “And she looks pissed.” JJ whipped his head around quickly and sure enough, there you were, beautiful as always, but fuming and marching right toward him.
“What the fuck, JJ?!” you yelled, making it obvious that you were about to either chew him out or kick his ass.
“Good luck, bud,” John B. whispered to JJ, chuckling under his breath.
“Fuck you,” JJ replied as he watched everyone go inside, leaving him alone to face your wrath. He didn’t know what the fuck to do, how to fix the mistake he made, how to make things not weird between you guys, but holy shit, he didn’t expect that you’d be so angry.
It was like he was watching you in slow motion, feeling every one of your stomps on the ground as you approached him, eyes ablaze and lips pulled into a frown. “What was that back there?” you finally asked, now standing right in front of the boy who looked scared shitless.
“I-- I know, Y/N. I’m sorry! It was a mistake--” he tried to explain rather desperately, but you cut him off.
“You can’t just dump all of that on me and then run away!” JJ finally stood up from the hammock and now towered over you, reaching for your arms without even thinking about it, wanting to make you feel calm.
“I don’t know why I said any of that! It was an accident! I'm sorry, we can talk about this--” You interrupted him yet again, but this time by launching yourself forward and crashing your lips to his.
With hands cradling his jaw, you did your best to put all of your emotions into the kiss, the one kiss that could change everything. JJ was more than surprised, freezing as you pulled him in closer, but within two seconds had relaxed and gave in-- he'd be an idiot not to. His hands fell to your waist and pulled you flush against him as his lips finally matched your ferver.
You don’t even know why you got so angry. Perhaps it was because the man you had loved since forever had told you he shared the same feelings, but then left before you could make the same confession, freeing yourself from years of secrecy. You didn’t want to hide it anymore. You needed to be sure he felt the same, like he said he did.
It almost didn’t matter now, as you poured every bit of passion you had into someone you called your best friend. He smiled against your lips, bringing his hand to the back of your neck to deepen the mind-blowing kiss. His mind was in a daze as his senses became clouded by you. In this moment, he had no doubts of his feelings for you. He was undeniably in love with you and couldn’t do a single thing to change that.
You had allowed yourself to get lost in him, but in a split second you were pulling away, not able to pull too far with JJ’s arms wrapped around you. His eyes trapped you in his gaze as you both took a moment to catch your breaths. You didn’t want to come down from the high you were experiencing, but you had to ask...
“Did you mean it?”
His brows furrowed wondering what you meant before it clicked. “Every word,” he said, only confidence and honesty in his voice. After that kiss, he wasn’t scared anymore. In fact, he felt fucking fearless. “I didn’t know how to tell you before.”
“Well, I'm glad you did,” you replied with a smile, dragging your fingers through his locks of hair before kissing him once more. The sounds of loud cheering made you pull away much sooner than either of you would have liked.
The pogues were watching from the window, cheering and making dumb kissy faces at you guys. JJ promptly flipped them off while you laughed, then he turned so that he was shielding you from the prying eyes of your friends. He loved the sound of your joyous laugh accompanied by your radiant smile.
“Next time you just wanna kiss me, can you not come over looking like you wanna kill me?” he asked, and you laughed with heat flooding your face. “Very mixed signals. I was scared for my life!” he added with a chuckle.
“Oh, shut up. I had a right to be mad at you!”
“But not anymore, right?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows. You rolled your eyes and shook your head at him before throwing your arms around his neck and kissing him again. You could definitely get used to this.
“You’re an idiot,” you mumbled against his lips. “You’re lucky I love you too.” He grinned, feeling higher than the clouds now that you finally said the words he was dying to hear.
He picked you up and spun you before kissing you again. “The luckiest in the world.”
***
add/remove yourself from my taglist!
forever tags: @anonymousbbbb@niya-savage @voguesir @itsmrsfuentes @caseyabel28 @rafej-cambanks @misssociopath @justme172 @beautifultragedy1313
outer banks tags: @brithedemonspawn@no-pogue-on-pogue-macking @theresonly-butterflies @niamhobrien99 @sarcasticsagittarius12 @catonthesideoftheroad @lovelogan @falling-perfectly @justanotherbooklover @hemmingsness @lannxyz @outerbnx-stiles @dontjinx-it @queenofthepouges @tovvaa @phantompogues @brown-eyedshell @dazzlingnightsincrediblesights @jenjie @5sosbands @justcallmemia-blog @brithedemonspawn @princess-east @dancingintheredroom @kitty084 @kickintheballsfantastic@imgoingtohellsofuckit @allaloneisokay-blog @iamninaannaisreading @sophieryan29
jj tags: @lemur46@huhbble @princess-of-the-fandoms @camillemonty @baibabes-blog1 @shy-1234 @unfortunatekiwitrash @bijleegiregi @cheshirecat107 @dracoswhore007 @folkloverr @kaylinfayezink @canyoubuymetoast @lovelychanel @thefandomrainbow @canyoufixsthebroken @wwjaad @king-ronnoc @yami5525
#1k Celebration#skiesofthesketchy#jj maybank#jj maybank fic#jj maybank blurb#jj maybank x reader#outer banks fic#request#ask#rudy pankow#outer banks#obx fic#jj maybank imagine#fluff#cheesy
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Piss Off Your Parents - Part 5
Ukai Keishin - Haikyuu
Synopsis: freshly turned 18, you want to prove to your parents that you aren’t a child for them to push around anymore. First, get a job at the local corner store. Second, use the store owner’s 26-year-old son with piercings and a cigarette addiction to piss your parents off. Third, accidentally fall in love.
Rating: PG13
Warnings: arguing with parents, stereotyping?, reader's parents just being generally horrible people, angst
Song → 18 by Anarbor
Previous → Part 4
Next → Part 6
"This is a horrible idea," you whispered to yourself as you got ready in your bedroom mirror, unable to concentrate for more than five minutes without a small panic attack taking over.
Your eyes flicked over to your clock every few seconds. Keishin was due to arrive at your family house for dinner in about thirty minutes and with every minute that passed, you asked yourself over and over again why you ever agreed to this.
Originally, when your parents had insisted on meeting your 'boyfriend' over a family dinner, your heart had dropped into the pit of your stomach; it was the worst feeling you had ever experienced . . . until you told Keishin about it jokingly and he actually agreed. Never before had you felt so sick to your stomach. Dinner was the last thing you wanted, and to make it worse, it was going to be dinner with your parents and fake boyfriend.
Shit.
More than once you had contemplated pretending to be sick or throwing yourself down the stairs, but you just couldn't go through with it. Every time you got close to backing out, a small part of your brain reminded you that this dinner might be the thing that changed your parents mind, and even though the odds of that actually happening were close to none, you couldn't give up without even trying.
So, with knots in your stomach and your palms sweating like never before, you continued getting ready for the evening and prayed that everything went as smoothly as possible.
If only you had known then that it would take much more than a prayer to save this evening.
When you heard the doorbell ring approximately thirty minutes later, your whole body froze and the thought of jumping out your second story window was starting to sound really appealing. But then, you remembered that it would be way worse if your mom or dad answered the door before you could so you rushed out of your room and down the stairs.
"I've got the door!" you shouted throughout the house, almost as if you were marking the front door as your territory and trying to scare anyone else away from it.
Standing in front of the door, you drew in a few deep, calming breaths before plastering a forced smile across your face and pulling the door open. Let the night of hell begin.
As soon as your eyes settled on Keishin, your smile faltered and you gasped. His dyed blonde hair was slicked back like usual, but instead of a headband, it was clear he had used gel. He had every hole in his ear stuffed with a black earring, and to top things off, he had showed up in jeans, a black t-shirt, and a leather jacket.
"What?" Keishin took a step back and examined his outfit. "You said to go all out. I did."
"I know, I know . . . I just . . ." You took a moment to compose yourself. "I didn't even know you owned a leather jacket."
"Yeah, well, you don't know everything about me," Keishin smirked devilishly, proud that he still had a few secrets to himself. "Well, are you going to let me in? I kind of want to get this dinner over with."
Opening the door wider, you stepped to the side and let Keishin inside your house. "You and me both," you agreed. "You sure you want to do this? We could both make a run for it right now if we act fast."
Shrugging the jacket off of his shoulders, Keishin shook his head. "Come on, at least give your parents a chance to change their minds."
Just then, your father's heavy footsteps could be heard exiting the kitchen and approaching the front door where you and Keishin stood together. Swallowing hard, you wiped the sweat from your palms on your clothes and sent one last pleading thought up to the heavens above, hoping that if there was a great being up there, they could be on your side tonight.
This was it. No turning back now.
"If your boyfriend has arrived, Y/N, please don't keep your mother and I waiting. Introduce us." Your father rounded the corner, stopping in his tracks when he set eyes on Keishin. Sure, you had told your parents all about your 'boyfriend', which was why they had insisted on this dinner in the first place, but Keishin was a man that words couldn't quite capture. "Oh. Hello." Your father reluctantly held out his hand to greet Keishin.
"Hello, sir." Keishin shook your father's hand without hesitation. "I'm Ukai Keishin. Keishin is fine though."
Seconds later, your mother joined the three of you. She had a similar reaction as your father had and was not subtle about it in the least. "So this is the man you've been seeing?" Your mother gave you an almost pleading look, like she was silently begging you to come clean and admit that you were joking.
Right off of the bat, things were not going well.
"Well, let me take your jacket and hang it up in the closet." Your mother stepped toward Keishin with the fakest smile you had ever seen on her face.
"Oh, there's no need." Keishin hung his jacket on the banister of the stairs. "I'll just end up taking it out in a little while anyway when I go out for a smoke. It's easier this way, but thank you."
You watched your mother's eye twitch and the smile she had forced threaten to crack. "You smoke?" You could tell that both of your parents were on the brink of snapping right then and there, but they had promised to actually get to know Keishin, and despite all the horrible things your parents did, breaking promises was not one of them.
"I do." Keishin grinned. "I know, I know, it's not good for me. Y/N tells me to quit all the time so I'm trying."
You let out a nervous chuckle as both your parents turned to face you. "Shall we head into the living room?" You started ushering everyone into the other room, hoping to change the subject as quickly as possible.
"Yes, let's have a seat." Your father nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving Keishin, watching him like a hawk. "Can I get you anything to drink, Keishin?"
"Just a water is fine, thanks." Keishin had obviously decided not to push his luck too hard because you had been fully expecting him to ask for a beer.
With that, both your mother and father disappeared into the kitchen; your mother to finish dinner and your father to collect the drinks.
Taking the brief moment of reprieve to breathe, you looked up at Keishin. "I've never seen my parents struggle between their flawless hospitality and kicking someone out of their house so much in my life," you chuckled lightly.
"I'm a bit of a shock." Keishin placed his hand on your lower back and led you toward the couch. "I brought out all the stops in the beginning so they could have the whole night to get used to me."
"How kind of you." You sat down, slightly caught off guard when Keishin sat down right next to you and slung his arm over your shoulders. You were about to ask him what he was doing, but then you remembered that the two of you were supposed to be an actual couple and this is what couples did.
As soon as you felt his touch on you, however, your mind flashed back to that night in the park a few weeks ago. Since then, neither one of you had spoken about what had happened on that bench; a wordless agreement between the two of you that you would just move on and pretend it didn't happen.
But as much as you pretended to forget, you never actually could. The feeling of Keishin's hands on your sides and his warm breath on your lips kept you up at night. As much as you tried not to think of him like that, you just couldn't help yourself.
"You seem really nervous," Keishin leaned closer to you a whispered. "You okay?"
Snapping out of your thoughts, you nodded quickly. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Just trying not to freak out is all."
"Hey." Keishin tilted your head toward him so he could look you in your eyes. "You're their daughter. No matter what happens, they will always love you. Remember that."
You flashed a smile. Somehow, Keishin knew exactly what to say to help you relax. "Yeah . . . thanks."
Just then, your father returned with two glasses of water in hand. Handing one each to you and Keishin, you didn't miss the way his gaze settled on the sight of Keishin's arm around you.
"Thank you." Keishin grabbed his glass right away and took a sip. You, on the other hand, let your glass sit on the coaster on the table. Despite how dry your mouth was, you didn't trust your shaky hands to pick up the glass.
"Dinner should be ready soon," your father said as he sat down in his armchair across from you and Keishin. "So, Keishin, tell me about yourself. What do you do for a living?"
"Well, currently, I spend most of my time coaching the boys' volleyball team at Karasuno high school," Keishin answered, his eyes lighting up a little when he spoke about the team he coached; you could tell he really enjoyed it. "And my family owns Sakanoshita Market and I work there sometimes."
"Sakanoshita Market," your father repeated. "That sounds familiar."
You rolled your eyes, not surprised in the slightest that your father had forgotten the name of the place you had been working at for the past few months. "That's where I work, Dad," you told him. "That's how Keishin and I met."
"I see." Your father eyed Keishin and you were surprised that Keishin didn't shrink under the cold, hard gaze like you usually did. "So do you go after all the young women who work at your family store or just my daughter?"
"Dad!" you gasped, unsure whether to tell him off or apologize to Keishin on behalf of your father.
"It's okay," Keishin told you calmly before answering your father's question. "Actually, the store hasn't seen a new employee in years. For the longest time, it was just my mother and me. We are both very grateful for all the hard work Y/N puts in to help us with the store. She is a wonderful employee."
You couldn't help the blush that tinted your cheeks at the compliment. "Thanks."
"No need to thank me. It's the truth," Keishin said before leaning in and pressing a quick kiss to your lips. "And good thing you took the job too, or else we would have never met."
Keishin then shot a sparkling grin your father's way, completely blinding him and distracting him from the shocked expression on your face. You knew you told Keishin to act like the two of you were really a couple, but you never expected him to play the part so thoroughly.
Your father opened his mouth to no doubt interrogate Keishin some more, but before he could, your mother began setting the table and announced that dinner was ready.
Moving over to the table, you took a seat across from Keishin while your parents sat at the ends of the table. As your mother brought the dishes of food over, you took the chance to drink some water and parch your dry throat.
The thought of having to keep this awkward conversation up gave you a headache, but thankfully, Keishin seemed to be handling everything quite well. Just as you had expected, he took everything with a grain of salt and refused to let your parents get under his skin.
You wished you were able to do that.
After the four of you bowed your heads and said thank you for the food, you dug in. At first, everyone was too busy eating to say anything. Somehow, the silence was worse than when your dad had been firing off questions rapid fire.
"This is delicious," Keishin was the first to speak. "Thank you again for inviting me for dinner."
"Yes, o-of course," your mother wavered a little but somehow managed to voice her fake pleasure nonetheless. "Y/N has never dated anyone before so we were curious as to what kind of . . . person . . . had caught her eye."
Keishin nodded, letting the not-so-subtle rude comment roll right off his back. "Well, here I am."
"Yes, here you are indeed," your father muttered under his breath. Thankfully, it didn't seem as though Keishin had heard it, but you certainly had. "So, you said you coach high school volleyball. Is this a long-term thing or?"
Keishin thought for a moment before shrugging. "I'm not sure, honestly. I do enjoy it but I've never given much thought as to if I want to do it long-term. I started coaching because of special circumstances and just haven't stopped yet."
"Well, plenty of people coach and teach," your mother said. "You seem to enjoy working with kids, so have you ever considered becoming a teacher?"
"That doesn't sound like the worst job, but that would require me to have a teaching degree, which I don't have," Keishin responded.
"What degree did you get in university?"
Keishin chuckled. "I didn't go to university."
Oh God. Your jaw dropped and you wished that a black hole could just open up underneath you and suck you in. Out of all the things your parents hated most, people who didn't go to university were at the top of the list. They always told you that 'people who didn't go to university had no interest in investing in their future.'
Hence why they always pushed so hard for you to go the university they wanted so you could study what they thought would be best for you.
You watched your mother's face go red as she reached for her glass of wine a take a particularly large sip. "Community college, then?" she squeaked out.
"Nope, afraid not," Keishin answered, completely unashamed and even proud. "I started working for the family store right after high school."
The looks on your parents' faces that they didn't even try to hide filled you with a deep sense of shame. You didn't know how they could be so blatantly rude to someone they barely knew . . . well, actually, you did know, and that was the worst part. As much as you wished you could deny it, you had thought the same things about Keishin when you had first met him.
Hanging your head in shame, you let the suffocating silence of the dining room take over.
Feeling something brush against your leg, you looked up to see Keishin smiling at you from across the table. 'It's okay' he mouthed to you. You thought back to the time Keishin had told you he was a big boy who could take a little verbal ribbing and exhaled through your nose sharply, your mood lifting ever-so-slightly.
Keishin brushed his foot against your leg a few more times to remind you that you weren't alone at this dinner before he attempted to restart the conversation. "So what do you two do for a living?" he asked, looking to your parents.
"We are both lawyers," your father said.
You nodded and sighed. "Hence why they want me to go to law school."
"Oh, honestly, Y/N, you say that like paying for you to go to law school is abuse." Your mother shook her head disapprovingly. "Do you know how many children would kill for the opportunities you have been given and yet you want to throw them away just like that? You should be grateful."
You were about to retort but stopped yourself before you did, knowing that it would only serve to start the same argument that you had lost over and over again. No matter what you said on the matter, your parents refused to try and see things from your perspective.
It never once occurred to them that you might actually not want to be a lawyer.
"Tell me, Keishin, if you had a child who you could pay for to go to law school and they told you they wanted to pursue their dream of playing soccer, what would you do?" Your father turned to Keishin, suddenly interested in what he had to say on the issue.
"Dad, let's not talk about that now," you spoke softly, hoping to get him to change the subject.
"No, no, let's hear what Keishin has to say." Your father insisted.
Keishin thought for a moment before answering. "Well, I think I would just want my child to be happy," he said, his eyes leaving your father to look at you. "I made the mistake of not following my dreams after high school and I regret it every day, so I would tell my child to follow their dreams and try my hardest to be there to support them."
You smiled wide, surprised by how emotional Keishin's words made you feel. For a moment, it was just you and him, and he was saying everything you had ever wanted to hear. All you ever wanted for was someone to be in your corner . . . someone to support you whether your choice was a mistake or not.
"Congratulations, Y/N, you've found a dreamer just like yourself," your father scoffed, breaking you out of your happy trance. "Too bad dreams don't pay the bills."
"Well, when your future is working at a family-run corner store, dreams are all you have," your mother cackled, not even trying to be quiet about it.
Your father laughed as well. "Too true, honey."
"Mom!" you shouted at her, your anger taking over before you even had the chance to think about your actions.
"It's okay," Keishin told you again, reaching across the table for your hand.
You shook your head and tugged your hand out of his reach. "No, it's not okay!" You rose to your feet, finally having had enough. "This dinner was a terrible idea. I cannot believe you!"
"If you've finally come to your senses, darling, we can send Keishin on his way and-" your mother reached for you as well but you shrugged her off.
"I'm not talking about Keishin! I'm talking about the two of you!" You slammed your hands down onto the table, shaking the dishes of food. "The whole night you have been making offhanded remarks and rude comments about Keishin while he has been nothing but the perfect guest. I'm sorry, Keishin, but I can't sit here and let you take their abuse anymore. I've dealt with it my whole life and I won't let them do the same thing to you. You don't deserve that."
"Y/N, you're being a bit dramatic, don't you think?" your father asked, sipping his wine as if nothing was happening, which only made you angrier.
"No, father, I don't think so," you snapped back. "I think that you and Mom are being horrible and I cannot believe that this is how you're acting when meeting someone for the first time. What makes you think that you have the right to treat someone so poorly just because they don't live the same life or have the same ideals as you? You think you know what is best for me but you don't even know me, so how could you?! I would rather work at the corner store for the rest of my life if it meant being genuinely happy over being a snobby, emotionless lawyer any day."
While you vented in front of your parents, Keishin just stared at you wide-eyed, completely floored by how quickly your demeanor had changed from shy and uncomfortable to enraged and animated in mere seconds. The last time he had seen you like this was when you were going off on him and he was grateful your rage wasn't directed at him this time.
Aside from relieved, Keishin felt proud; proud of you for standing your ground.
An embarrassed look flashed across your mother's face. "Y/N, please-"
"No, just don't," you lowered your voice and took a few deep breaths. "I can't do this anymore. I can't keep pretending that I'm going to put up with your plans for me just so I can have a roof over my head. Mom, Dad, I'm not going to law school. I'm not letting you dictate my life anymore. I'm done."
Stepping away from the table, completely emotionally drained, you looked over your shoulder at Keishin. "Come on, let's go." You waved for him to follow.
Without a word, Keishin stood from the table and followed you to the front door where the two of you grabbed your jackets and got ready to leave.
"If you walk out that door, don't bother coming back!" You heard your father call after you as you left the house, but his threat didn't phase you in the least. If anything, never having to return to that house sounded like bliss right then.
Wrapping your jacket tight around your body to fight the cool evening wind, you sighed. "I'm sorry about that," you told Keishin as he walked silently beside you. "I should never have dragged you into my mess. You don't deserve to be treated the way my parents treated you."
"You don't need to apologize." He wrapped his arm around you once more and held you close, both to comfort you and to keep you warm. "I'm just worried about you. Are you okay?"
You felt tears begin to well in your eyes and frantically wiped them away. "I . . . I don't know," you answered truthfully. "I suppose I should just worry about one thing at a time, and since I've apparently got nowhere to spend the night now . . ."
"You'll spend the night at my place," Keishin stated plainly, not even bothering to ask if you wanted to or not. It was more like an order, but right then, you had nothing against him making decisions for you. As long as the choices weren't made by your parents, you didn't care who they came from.
"Okay," you exhaled. "Thank you."
As the two of you walked through the quiet night in the direction of the store, Keishin pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it. Without thinking, you wrapped your arm around his waist and leaned into him, the warmth he radiated bringing you some semblance of peace.
"I'm sorry tonight went so shit," Keishin spoke as he exhaled, smoke spilling from his lips.
"It's not your fault," you told him. "In fact . . . I don't think tonight could have gone any better. In the end, this is how it was always going to turn out. It's better I realize that sooner rather than later."
Keishin stopped and looked down at you. "That's not-"
"It's okay," you said those two magic words this time. "You remember when you told me that no matter what happened they would always love me because I'm their daughter?"
Keishin nodded.
"I wish you could have been right."
#haikyuu#haikyuu!!#lostinthewiind#piss off your parents#part 5#ukai keishin x reader#coach ukai#haikyuu smut#x reader#reader insert#reader imagine#series#ukai#keishin#ukai x reader
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((I typed this all out to reply to a YouTube comment but realized it’s too long, so decided to put it here instead))
Comparing Ben and Paxton’s ways of being there for Devi—because, despite some people stating one guy or the other is not there for her, I think it should be factually stated that yes, yes they are both there for Devi. But in different ways.
Paxton does the superhero/cool-guy type saving for Devi; Ben does the emotional/loyal/meaningful saving for Devi. When Paxton saved Devi from the coyote or when she fell into the pool, Ben was there - still worried, but not knowing what to do. After all, he’s a nerd, not a cool jock, and he had his girlfriend right next to him. What would it have looked like if he had left his girlfriend’s side to help Devi? (I feel like if he had actually left his girlfriend’s side, haters would still come after him for it.)
Ben was there for Devi when she was emotionally unstable, when she needed a shoulder to cry on, when she needed to be brought back to reality. As many people have stated, Paxton is an escape from Devi’s reality. With Paxton, Devi avoids reality, an unhealthy form of escapism. Ben, on the other hand, brings Devi back to reality. Ben helps her through the situation she’s dealing with, and makes her become a better person upon dealing with it.
Paxton and Devi don’t talk about personal/family/friend issues, it’s more of a face-level connection.
- Ben took her to Malibu when it mattered most (Paxton kind of shrugged the topic off when Devi told him in episode 1 season 2 that she went to spread her dad’s ashes).
- Ben was terrified of driving without his license, at 70mph on the LA road. As someone who has had terrible anxiety on the road, the fact that he did this for her says a lot to me.
- Ben let Devi move in with him when she had no one else, with no hesitation.
- Ben set Devi straight (made her be the better person) when she spread the rumor about Aneesa. Heck, he went to the girls’ bathroom with no hesitation to check on Devi after she took a risk and Paxton publicly humiliated her.
Honestly, I’m almost torn between benvi and daxton, but my opinion still remains.
Paxton may be the hot, cool guy, genuinely sweet and kind guy - great guy to have as your “first love;” but Ben is there for the long-run. They share that playful flirty banter, and Ben understands her in a way Paxton (at least at the moment) does not. Paxton doesn’t know half of the struggles Devi has gone through, I don’t even know if he knows she suffers from PTSD. When Paxton picked sobbing Devi up from the sidewalk, it would’ve been the perfect opportunity for Paxton to put his anger aside, dig deeper, and try to comfort Devi and understand what she was going through. Devi even gave him a window to do so by saying something about everyone being mad at her. But he didn’t help her. He did the kind of saving that he had done before - physically saving her from a situation, but not emotionally.
Ben has seen Devi at her worst and at her best, he sees the subtle changes in her, and even when he’s mad at her - when his heart has been broken by her - he knows how best to comfort her. They’re intellectual equals and make a great academic duo; they’re a power couple that want to go to an Ivy League. That’s soulmate material right there.
The way I see it, Daxton is the super cute high school couple that end up cutely together at the end of a romcom. Paxton has become a hero character, experienced massive character development, and has viewers swooning over him. After everything he had gone through, it’s painted to feel like like he’s “deserved” the female lead at the end of the movie. But, As Devi says at the end of season 2, “I wonder what that’s going to be like (being Paxton’s girlfriend).” Now that they had their cute romcom finale, the curtains have closed… what’s next?
On the opposite end, Ben and Devi are the slow burn couple who just “get” each other, and for some reason constantly find their way back to each other. They’re enemies, then friends, then once they’re fully matured, they’re lovers. When fully mature and at their best, when the credits roll after a romcom ends, they are what a real, true life romance looks like.
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I want it all Calum Hood x Reader
Summary: reader gives him space while he is on tour and Calum starts to worry.
A/N: alright so I got this from the kissing booth 2, so yeah lol. I usually know what to type in here but I somehow lost how to do it. anyway hope you enjoy and remember feedback is always allowed! love you all! also sorry if this is too short.
Calum had been leaving for a tour and you just knew every inch of you was going to miss him, you had no idea how the distance would affect your relationship, but you knew that you would have to give him some sort of freedom when he was doing something that he was so passionate about. You trusted him with all your heart and knew he would be as loyal as you were back home.
As he was packing he had asked for your help, you didn't really know how to act, so you just stood quite, cal noticed the small change in your attitude, you were more quiet and this worried cal that tour might be a dealbreaker for you and change your mind but you were actually the complete opposite. You were very proud of him and the band and the support you had was all there, you were just going to miss him which was normal since he was going away, but you didn't want to be that clingy girlfriend.
Cal stopped with what he was doing and was the first to break the silence, “hey, you alright love?” he said as you looked up with a frown, “yeah im okay, why?” you asked as you placed his clothing in the suitcase and he took your hands in his, “i just, uh you seem kinda distant since i told you i was going away for tour,” he said as you sighed, “sorry i didn't mean it to seem like that, i'm just gonna miss you is all cal, i’ve honestly never really experienced this ever, sorry-” you said as he cut you off softly, “no- it's okay, sorry i forget that sometimes, i'm gonna miss you too, so much, you are it for me you know that, i'll come back to you. I promise.” he said as he placed you on his lap as you smiled and pushed his hair out of his face, “i know you will bubs, and i will be here waiting for you, you're the only one for me.” you said as he smiled and took you in a hug wanting to be close to you, close to the point where he could feel your heartbeat.
Ever since he left, your days would go on much slower than usual, you had duke with you since cal wanted you to have some company and you were okay to watch him as well so he could work without worrying. Him leaving for tour wasn't the first time, but you still needed to get used to it. It was normal to have the need to want to see him but you didn't want to bother him while he was one tour. Of course you messaged him about duke and let him know how he was doing, you didn't really talk about yourself or about him. There was some constant communication within one another but it was small and cal wanted more. He didn't know how to ask, but he wanted more than the small texts you were answering. He had even talked to the guys about it wanting some advice. He was worried you were going to break up with him because of the distance.
“I don't know how to ask her i want more, i feel like i established what we are when i left,” he said as ashton nodded, “did you two talk before you left?” he asked as cal shook his head, “no we didn't, things were fine the way i left, we are fine now, but i'm just worried something is gonna happen..” he said as luke and michael were both in on this conversation, “like what?” michael asked as cal sighed, “what if she's breaking up with me, thats why shes not talking to me” he said as luke shook his head, “maybe she's giving you space like, having you worry less about what she may be going through,” ashton said as luke elaborated, “yeah she might think that traveling and going on tour is enough on your plate, she doesn't want to be a bothersome or clingy. Not saying she is, but this is probably what she feels or thinks.” he said as michael nodded, “yeah i agree with that, you two just need to talk and you need to reassure her and tell her what you want and what you are.” he said as calum nodded knowing that he would call you after the show.
“What if she doesn't want to, what if she doesn't answer” he said as ashton spoke, “well text her before hand, tell you her you want to talk before she goes to sleep.” he said as michael nodded, “ask her about her day and stuff,” he said as luke nodded, “yeah and then bring in the conversation,” luke said as cal nodded.
After their show he had called you but there was no answer, nothing from you not even a text back. You on the other hand had seen the phone ring but of course thought the absolute worst and didn't answer the call. The messages, yeah you saw them, again you didn't respond. It was around 12 at night and you were starting to feel guilty about not answering and you texted him first reading the text.
…
Hey dovey, just wanted to let you know I'm calling you after my show, so hopefully you will answer. @9:00
…
I forgot the time zones were different, so it's fine. I'll try to call you when you're either free or not sleeping. Love you. @10:34
…
Hey, it's fine no worries, talk to you soon love you and take care. @12:01
Honestly what could you say. You didn't know what to say at all. You didn't want him worrying about you. He had his tour and that's what you wanted him to focus on. His tour. That's it. He could worry about you when he got back. Your mind would keep telling you to leave him be and to not be clingy so you listened to the small voice, but you didn't know how much it was affecting Cal that you weren't talking to him.
It Sounds so weird to say, but I mean you didn't want to be that clingy girlfriend who just always talked to her boyfriend 24/7. You didn't want to ruin his tour experiences by you always being there. Which was one of the reason why you didn't go on tour when he had asked you if you could come. To be frank you had saved sick days, but you didn't want to bother him, you didn't want him and his friends to feel weird with you being there, even if all their girlfriends were going.
You were at work just finishing up some emails as normal as you saw your phone light up with calum’s name on your screen.
Hey dovey, whats up?
You looked at the screen and just went straight back to your computer not wanting to answer fast and making you seem like you had missed him a lot, again your overthinking brain was doing the analyzing and not you. A couple minutes later it had vibrated again and you got into the chat but didn't type you just looked at the message.
You there?
You sighed and you were contemplating on what you should do, you thought just call him and talk to him, but a part of you was telling you to not call him since he could be busy.
Seconds later your boss came towards you as you frowned, “hey you have a phone call from your dad called, he said it's some family emergency and urgent” she said as you were quick to your feet wondering why your dad called you at work knowing that he had your phone number.
“The phones over there,” she said as you nodded and walked over to the office and picked up the phone, “hello?” you said as you heard his voice, “whats going on with you?” you heard cal say as your eyes went wide as you coughed, “what- what do you mean dad?” you said pretending to be shocked as you looked over at your boss as she looked at you with worry, “why aren't you texting me back.” he said as you tried to find an excuse to leave you alone to talk to cal.“oh-what? That's terrible horrible news about...Aunt...Pepper.” you said as your boss looked over at you, “is everything okay?” she asked as you looked at her with a sad look, “no, uh could i have a moment in private?” you asked as she nodded leaving you in the office alone as you were brought back to the situation, “why are you pretending to be my dad?” you asked as he sighed, “it was the only way i could think to get you on the phone” he said worried as you sighed, “oh that is not true” you said as he shook his head, “no it is true, you barely call and when you text, you send these weird two-word text messages, like you kno, “take care” and “talk soon.” he said as you sighed and he thought the worst wondering why this was happening, “are-are you breaking up with me?” he asked as you were quick to respond, “what no no no no! The opposite.” you said as he spoke back, “then what? Why? Why are you ignoring me dovey?” he asked as you exhaled, “cal, i..i don't know, well i'm trying to be mature and not come off as some clingy girlfriend,” you said as he frowned, “y/n, i told you i wanted to make this work,” he said as you sighed opening up to him, “yeah i know but people always say that when they leave. I guess I'm just giving you space. you know for tour and stuff, i don't want to bother you with texts and facetime calls.” you said as he frowned, “space for what love? I don't want space, I want you. I want you all around me all the time. I want you right now with me” he said as you smiled at his words.
“Im sorry cal, i miss you a lot, i want you here with me too, i'm sorry i made you worry.” you said as he took a breath in, “don't be sorry dovey, i love you okay? i want you to check up on me with text and facetime calls. I want it all even if you're clingy, I don't care, I want it. You're my girlfriend and I'm your boyfriend aren't I dovey.” he said as you nodded as if he was there, “yeah you are.” you said as he smirked, “i'm your what?” he asked as you rolled your eyes, “you're my boyfriend.” you said very peachy as he chuckled.
“Now just text me alright, i don't care what it is as long as it something from you, it can even be a meme, but i want you to text me okay?” he said as you giggled, “okay i will,” you said with a smile as he spoke again, “i'm gonna call you after my show, i want to talk to you before you fall asleep.” he said as you blushed a little, “alright i'll be waiting bubs.” you said as you said your goodbyes and ended the call.
Despite your overthinking brain you were left reassured that this man was going to be in your life forever no matter what and the unconditional love will always be there. Cal knew this as well, probably since the first time he met you. You two were perfect for one another and there was nothing that could tell you two otherwise.
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beneath the moon. (sokka x f!reader) pt16
hiiiii everyone :) i am back! i’ve finished my finals for the semester and i am so so excited to continue these fics! i’ll admit i was experiencing some major burnout and just overall not having fun anymore but i think having my worst semester ever be over will help a lot hehe!!
pt1
pt15
pt17
“We’re coming back for them,” Sokka reassured her. “We just have to get Appa first, and then we’ll all escape.”
(Y/N) looked back toward the palace. It made her uneasy to leave her friends when they might need her, even if it was only for a moment. She looked at Sokka once more, taking his hand in hers and squeezing. “You guys go ahead, I’m going to find them.”
“(Y/N)!” Sokka whisper-shouted after her, but (Y/N) couldn’t just go with them and hope that her friends would be okay, or that they would know what was going on.
The Southern Water Tribe armor that (Y/N) wore on her back weighed a few pounds, slowing her down as she ran over to Aang and Appa. Sokka reached him first and (Y/N) could hear their two voices but not the words they were saying. Sokka turned to look at her, his face contorted in an expression of anger, fear, and sadness, and her stomach dropped. “What’s going on?” She asked once she finally reached them.
Aang looked panicked. “Katara’s in trouble! We have to leave now!”
“Okay,” (Y/N) said with a breath. As scary as the prospect of Katara being in danger was, her own emotions would have to be put aside. “We’ll say goodbye and then we’ll head out.”
“There’s no time!” Aang insisted, and (Y/N) glared at him. Sokka had literally just reunited with his father, his hero, and the moment was being ripped from him. The least they could do was let him say goodbye. Katara was strong, she’d be alright. Or at least, that was what (Y/N) had to keep telling herself.
“Sokka, tell your dad thank you for his hospitality,” (Y/N) said with a slight smile. “We’ll see him again soon.” Sokka ran back to his father and (Y/N) turned back to Aang. “You,” She said, jabbing her finger at him. “Need to calm down.” She grabbed his hand and lifted herself onto Appa’s back, flopping over awkwardly in the saddle from her armor. “I know you’re in love with Katara, but she’ll be okay until we can get there. She’s one of the best fighters I know.”
Aang’s face paled. “W-what are you talking about? I’m just worried about my friend.”
“Yeah, yeah,” (Y/N) muttered. Her eyes caught Sokka as he jogged back over to them. “I’m just worried about my friend, too.”
Once Sokka was on Appa’s back, they flew off back toward Ba Sing Se, the afternoon sun behind them. Aang confessed that he didn’t know the details of what was happening to Katara, only that he had seen a vision of her being in trouble. “Normally I’d call you ridiculous,” Sokka said as he lay in a starfish position on the saddle. “But Avatar powers always prove me wrong so I’ll just shut up.”
“Did you guys manage to convince the Southern Water Tribe to go to the North, at least?” Aang asked. (Y/N) shrugged.
“I’m not sure how many of them were fully convinced.”
“I don’t know if they’ll go now that we’re not there,” Sokka said. “(Y/N) was the only reason they were even starting to consider it.”
“It would have been a nice accomplishment, but they don’t even teach women anything beyond healing. It probably wouldn’t be a good idea to leave the city so exposed.” (Y/N) sighed. “Would have been nice though, so give Hahn another punch in the nose for challenging my claim to the throne.”
“You’re thinking about going back to rule?” Aang asked.
“You never told me that,” Sokka looked at her with furrowed brows.
“The war will be over at some point,” She said quietly. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed movement down below. She leaned over the side of Appa’s saddle to see the earth moving in a rather unnatural way. “What is that?” She asked Aang.
He swooped Appa down toward the movement and there, at the base of it all, was a familiar tiny girl, surfing across the rock. “Hey!” Sokka called out to Toph. “Need a ride?” Toph flailed at the sound, losing her focus and falling to the ground. Aang, Sokka, and (Y/N) winced at her fall.
“Are you okay?” (Y/N) called out, but before she knew it Toph was barreling toward them. She had used her earthbending to launch herself in the air and the three of them all scrambled to catch her safely. Toph crash landed on (Y/N), sending her rolling onto the other side of Appa’s saddle. She sat up quickly, an angered expression on her face.
“Don’t scare me like that!” She said into the empty air where she thought Sokka would be.
“Sorry,” Sokka said from the opposite side of the saddle. (Y/N) coughed as she sat up, trying to gain back the air that had been knocked out of her. The armor had protected her a bit, but although Toph was small, she was as dense as the rock she bended.
“What happened to meeting with your mom?” Aang asked, and Toph frowned.
“It was a trap,” Toph grumbled. “Two idiots captured me. Unluckily for them, I invented metalbending.”
Sokka laughed, but it slowly faded when he realized that no one else was joining him. “You’re not...you’re not joking?”
“Toph!” (Y/N) exclaimed, grasping her friend by the arms. “That’s so exciting! You invented metalbending--that’s supposed to be impossible!” She engulfed Toph in a hug and squeezed tightly.
“Get off of me!” Toph protested, squirming in (Y/N’s) arms. (Y/N) released her, but the smile on her face never faded. “But yeah,” Toph smirked. “It’s pretty cool of me. What about you, Aang? How’d it go with the guru? Did you master the Avatar State?”
(Y/N) had meant to ask Aang about that as well, but had gotten distracted. All three of them turned to look at him, but he stared off into the distance. “Aang?” Sokka asked, and the young boy tensed, turning back to stare at his friends.
“Yep, everything good with the guru! Avatar State, completely mastered,” He said with a slight laugh. (Y/N) and Sokka exchanged a confused look.
They landed at their house in the city and rushed inside. They were immediately greeted by Momo, who had crawled onto Aang’s shoulders as soon as they entered. Toph flattened her feet against the floor of the house. “There’s no one else here.”
“I knew it!” Aang exclaimed. “Katara is in trouble!”
“Oh no,” Sokka breathed. (Y/N) opened her mouth to reassure her friends, but she closed it quickly when she realized it would be no use. She knew it in her heart that Katara was in trouble and the longer they waited the further away they were from saving her.
“Wait! Someone’s at the door,” Toph said, and a second later a knock sounded against the thick wood. “Actually, I know who it is. It’s an old friend.” Before (Y/N) could inquire just exactly who Toph could have become friends with, she opened the door, revealing General Iroh.
Now normally, upon seeing a member of the Fire Nation, (Y/N) would whip out her water from the pack at her hip and immediately start fighting. But although it had been months since she had last seen him, she remembered his face. He was there the night Yue had died. He had fought against a member of his own nation in order to protect the Moon Spirit. He had fought alongside them against Azula just a few weeks prior, when she had been hunting their group through the Earth Kingdom countryside. It was safe to say that she was rather conflicted over her opinion of General Iroh, but she figured no one who had come to attack them would knock first.
“I need your help,” He said, looking gravely at the four of them. At her side, Aang and Sokka took their fighting stances while Toph simply waved. (Y/N) remained rather relaxed.
“You know him?” Aang questioned Toph.
“Yeah! We met in the woods and I knocked him down. Then he gave me tea and some very good advice.”
“Toph, I think the next time you meet our enemies in the woods, you should share it with us.” (Y/N) stared down at her friend, but it had no effect on her.
“I can’t tell someone’s an enemy by their feet,” Toph scoffed.
“May I come in?” Iroh asked, entering the home once Toph gave him permission. “Princess Azula is in Ba Sing Se.”
“She must have Katara.” Aang’s brows furrowed in anger. (Y/N) had only met Azula a handful of times, but one time was too many with the evil Princess of the Fire Nation.
“She has my nephew as well,” Iroh said.
“Then we’ll work together to save Katara and Zuko,” Aang said very decidedly, resulting in Sokka blinking his eyes in confusion.
“I’m sorry, you lost me at ‘Zuko,’” He said. Iroh placed a hand on Sokka’s shoulder.
“I know you do not like my nephew, but I promise that there is good inside of him.” Sokka shook Iroh’s hand off of him.
“Good inside of him isn’t enough! Come back when the good’s outside of him, too.”
“Katara’s in trouble!” Aang said, perhaps the most serious that (Y/N) had ever seen him. “All of Ba Sing Se’s in trouble. We have to work together.”
Sokka’s blue eyes flickered to meet (Y/N’s), the edge of his eyebrow raising as he silently asked her opinion. She spread out her hands and shrugged. “We’re supposed to help people, Sokka.” He inhaled a deep breath before nodding.
“I brought someone along who might be able to help.” Iroh led them outside, where a Dai Li agent was tied up and gagged on their front steps.
“Oh dear,” (Y/N) said, surprised at the sight. Iroh removed the gag from his mouth. It took very little to get him to talk.
“Azula and Long Feng are plotting a coup! They’re going to overthrow the Earth King!”
“Where’s my sister?” Sokka demanded, gathering the Dai Li’s shirt in his fist.
“In the crystal catacombs of Old Ba Sing Se, deep beneath the palace!”
Their group traveled to just outside the palace, where Toph confirmed that there was indeed an ancient city beneath the present one. They decided to split up, Aang and Iroh would rescue Zuko and Katara, while Toph, Sokka, and (Y/N) would warn the Earth King about the coup.
The group of three ran up the stairs to the palace when they noticed General How making his way toward them. Sokka pulled both girls behind a pillar and they watched as the General was arrested by Dai Li agents. “The coup is happening right now,” Sokka whispered. “We’ve got to get to the Earth King.”
As silently and as carefully as possible, they ran to the throne room. Earth King Kuei sat pleasantly in his seat, his beloved bear Bosco at his side. They had made it, with only a few moments to spare.
The traditional green and gold colors of the Kyoshi Warriors flashed in front of (Y/N), landing just a few inches from Sokka’s face. “Hey there, cutie,” The warrior said, and both Sokka and (Y/N’s) faces reddened, albeit for different reasons.
“I’m uh,” Sokka stuttered, but Toph used her earthbending to fling the girl out of the way.
“They’re not the real Kyoshi Warriors!”
“Sorry to disappoint you,” said the familiar voice of the Fire Nation girl, Mai. She flung her daggers at (Y/N), but she waterbended a stream of water in front of her and froze it, catching the daggers within it. She melted the ice and the sharp pieces of metal clattered to the floor.
“I don’t really have any training in throwing daggers,” (Y/N) said as she picked them up. “But back home I used to throw spears to catch dinner. It’s kind of the same, right?” She used all of her force to throw a dagger back at Mai, missing her by only a few inches. The girl quickly darted for her, so (Y/N) had to think on her feet. She encased the daggers in a water bubble, freezing it as hard as she could and pelting it at Mai.
“This fight is over,” Azula said, drawing everyone’s attention to the center of the room, where she held a flame dagger against Kuei’s throat. (Y/N) looked to Sokka, who dropped his weapon and sank to the ground. She and Toph followed suit. Ty Lee fiercely jabbed at their backs and sides, effectively chi blocking all of them.
Dai Li agents lifted them to their wobbly legs, taking the friends, King Kuei, and Bosco to the lower levels of the palace, where the prisons were. They were tossed unceremoniously into their cell and had the door shut behind them, allowing for only a sliver of light to enter the room.
(Y/N) had been thrown in last, resulting in her being closest to the exit. Blinking her eyes to help them adjust to the darkness, she stared at the door, which was fashioned from thick metal to keep earthbenders in. “Toph,” (Y/N) called out. It would take a bit for them to regain their ability to use their limbs and bend, but there was still hope. Toph grunted in response, her face smushes against the floor of the cell. “The door is metal.”
Toph grinned into the darkness.
Once each member of their party had gained their mobility, they made sure the outside of the cell was completely free of Dai Lee agents before making their escape. The door loudly crunched beneath Toph’s hands and clattered even more loudly as she tossed it into the hallway. “I hope no one heard that,” King Kuei said.
“Let’s go,” Sokka ordered, and the four of them plus Bosco ran back up to the surface. Night had fallen while they had been imprisoned, allowing them to sneak around the palace grounds with little difficulty.
“We have to find Katara and Aang,” (Y/N) whispered, stopping in her tracks just before they were about to pass through the gates.
“We’re coming back for them,” Sokka reassured her. “We just have to get Appa first, and then we’ll all escape.”
(Y/N) looked back toward the palace. It made her uneasy to leave her friends when they might need her, even if it was only for a moment. She looked at Sokka once more, taking his hand in hers and squeezing. “You guys go ahead, I’m going to find them.”
“(Y/N)!” Sokka whisper-shouted after her, but (Y/N) couldn’t just go with them and hope that her friends would be okay, or that they would know what was going on. She first went to the spot where Iroh and Aang had disappeared into the ground. The hole they had created to travel to the catacombs had been covered up by Toph, so as to not draw unwanted attention to them. When (Y/N) didn’t see Aang or Katara there, she made quick laps around the palace, evading the sight of the Dai Lee.
Oddly enough, sneaking around the palace felt comforting to her. It reminded her of being back home and sneaking past her own guards, so that she could practice her waterbending through the night. Yue would be waiting up when she returned, a disappointed yet humored look on her face.
(Y/N) was nearly finished with her second lap around the palace when she spotted them. Encased in a beam of moonlight, Katara had Aang’s arm strung around her shoulders as she attempted to carry him to safety. (Y/N) ran forward, quietly calling out Katara’s name. The girl turned around, her eyes welling with tears. (Y/N) noticed immediately how limp Aang was in her arms. The edges of his clothes were singed and at the very base of his back was a raw and angry burn mark.
(Y/N’s) ears were ringing as she stared at Aang. This couldn’t be happening. There was no way that she could be losing yet another person she loved too soon. But here Aang was, his head slumped forward and all of his weight leaning into Katara’s body. She couldn’t see his body rising or falling with his breaths. Tears fell against her cheeks one by one, the shock settling in her bones.
Numbly, (Y/N) took Aang’s other arm and slung it around her own shoulder. She led Katara to the spot where she had left Sokka, and he, Toph, Kuei, and Bosco were all waiting atop Appa’s back. Sokka hopped down to help them. “I’m so glad you’re okay!” He said quietly, looking from Katara to (Y/N). It only took a few more seconds for his own realization to set in. “Let’s get him on Appa.”
They lifted him onto the air bison and took off, fleeing Ba Sing Se. Katara pulled out the small vial of water from the Spirit World Oasis. Master Pakku had given it to her before they left the North Pole. Carefully, she moved Aang onto his side and applied the water to his back. It glowed bright blue, as it water usually did when it was used for healing, but then the color suddenly faded. From all of her years of healing training, (Y/N) knew that could only mean one thing. A sob collected in her throat and her eyes welled with tears once more, her fingers curling tightly into the fabric of her clothes.
Then, as Katara held onto Aang, his tattoos began glowing the same bright blue as the Spirity World Water. He groaned lowly, just barely enough for anyone to hear, but all of his friends were listening so intently. His eyes opened just enough to look up at Katara. He gave her a small smile before slipping back into unconsciousness, his chest rising and falling with breath. (Y/N) let out a deep sigh of relief, wiping the tears from her face.
Toph remained toward the back of Appa with Katara and Aang, while (Y/N), Sokka, and King Kuei devised a plan about where they should head next. It was mostly just Sokka and (Y/N) coming up with a plan while King Kuei listened intently. “We should head back to Chameleon Bay,” Sokka said. “My dad might still be there.”
“And if he isn’t, we have a good enough view from Appa to see them if they’re anywhere else.”
They flew back to where they had been just a few hours prior and luckily, the men of the Southern Water Tribe remained where they had left them. Hakoda walked out to greet them, his face becoming grave once he saw the condition Aang was in.
“Katara,” He opened his arms to hug his daughter, but she ignored him, instead giving orders to the Water Tribe men about where exactly to place Aang and what she would need. Awkwardly, Hakoda turned to (Y/N) and Sokka. “I didn’t expect to see you so soon after you left.”
“Ba Sing Se has been taken by the Fire Nation,” Sokka said, very seriously for a boy of fifteen.
“Princess Azula has the Dai Li under her control,” (Y/N) said. “If we don’t act carefully, the rest of the Earth Kingdom might fall.”
“Sounds like we need a plan,” Hakoda said. He smiled down at his send. “Care to lead a war meeting?” Sokka met his father’s smile with one of his own. He nodded eagerly. “Meet me in my tent in a few minutes. I’m going to get some tents set up for you and your friends.”
(Y/N) grinned at Sokka, hitting his arm playfully with his fist. “Look at you! Soon you’ll be Commander Sokka or something like that.” He turned to look at her.
“What you did back in Ba Sing Se was risky, (Y/N). You could’ve been hurt.” (Y/N) scrunched her nose.
“I said you’ll be Commander Sokka soon, not right now.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I couldn’t leave them behind. It might not have been the move you would’ve done--”
“You’re right, I wouldn’t have. You can’t jeopardize your own life to try to save people.”
“If I hadn’t tried, there might not have been any lives to save!” (Y/N) snapped. “Katara was weak and Aang...Aang was dead, Sokka. I don’t care what you say. I know I did the right thing.”
Sokka opened his mouth to fire back, but stopped himself. He inhaled a deep breath. “You’re right. But you have to be more careful. Don’t think I didn’t notice your empty water pack.” For good measure, he squeezed the pack at her hip and nothing came out. She had used it all when fighting Mai. (Y/N) hadn’t even noticed that she was out of water.
“Sorry,” (Y/N) muttered, avoiding his gaze. She felt like she was in trouble. Sokka took her hand in his and gave it a squeeze.
“Come lead the meeting with me?” He was smiling down at her and (Y/N) rolled her eyes, her own smile appearing on her lips. Sometimes, being with Sokka felt so natural that it was so easy to get back to normal.
They remained with the men of the Southern Water Tribe. King Kuei would show off Bosco to anyone who would listen and eventually, the two set off to see the world. When Katara wasn’t healing Aang, she slept on a cot at his side, to make sure that he wouldn’t need anything throughout the night. She had all of her meals delivered to the tent. The only time anyone could talk to her was if they entered with her express permission.
Sokka and (Y/N) spent the majority of their time together. They attended war meeting after war meeting. They took their meals together so they could continue their discussions of how to best attack the Fire Nation during the eclipse. Some nights, they would fall asleep among their work.
Toph spent the majority of the time bouncing between Sokka, (Y/N), and Katara, or resting against Appa’s comfy fur. Toph was perhaps the only person who was getting an actual break from anything, but during the nights where (Y/N) and Sokka would present their plans to the rest of the tribe, she would be listening intently to uncover anything that needed to be adjusted.
After about a week of remaining in the same spot, the tribe loaded onto their ships to find a new area to camp. Only a few days after they had set sail, they encountered a Fire Naiton ship. Part of Sokka and (Y/N’s) plan was that Aang could not be discovered, so they all attacked with full force and commandeered the ship. The men changed into Fire Nation uniforms while Toph, Katara, and (Y/N) used cloaks to cover the clothes that would be a dead giveaway. Having a Fire Nation ship under their control allowed them to pass through the seas without any fear of danger.
Perhaps the nicest thing about staying on the Fire Nation ship was that (Y/N) had her own room and a nice bed to sleep in. It had been ages since she had slept on anything other than a mat on the floor, so as soon as she claimed the room for her own she slept for hours, only being woken to a heavy banging at her door.
Sleepily, she stood, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she opened the door. Sokka was in front of her, a plate of food in his hand. “I thought you had died,” He said, pushing past her to enter her room. “You slept for thirteen hours!”
“‘S that a lot?” (Y/N) asked through a yawn. Her brain was taking longer to wake up than her body. “I don’t think it’s enough.”
“I brought you dinner. I tried to wake you up for it but you wouldn’t answer. You scared me,” Sokka grumbled. (Y/N) couldn’t help but laugh. “What’s so funny?”
“You’re so dramatic. I was just sleeping.” She took the plate from Sokka’s hands and began picking at the food. “Thank you, I appreciate you.” She sat on the edge of her bed and Sokka joined her.
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something,” He said, and she yawned.
“If anyone tries talking to you after you’ve woken up, you’re such a monster, but you want to have full on conversations with me four minutes after I’ve woken up.”
“It’s been more like three minutes, I think,” And they both smiled. “Do you remember when you said you were going back to the Northern Water Tribe after the war?”
“I don’t think that’s what I said, but I’ve thought about it.” She rubbed her eye once more. “People are trying to challenge my throne, so I’d like to put a stop to that.”
“So you want to rule the Northern Tribe? I thought you hated it there.”
“I do,” (Y/N) said immediately. “Or, I did. But I don’t know what I’m going to want in the future and we definitely don’t know what’s going to happen once Aang defeats the Fire Lord.” She shrugged. “It’s not like I’m going to become the chief of my tribe tomorrow.”
Sokka nodded, rubbing the palms of his hands against his pants. “Okay, cool. You had me worried for a second.”
“Worried about what?”
“You leaving.” (Y/N) smiled, offering him a grape, and he popped it into his mouth.
“I’m not leaving anytime soon. Someone has to shut down your ideas about convincing animals to fight against the Fire Nation.”
“Appa and Momo do it, I can’t see why other animals won’t!” (Y/N) giggled.
“As much as I’d love to see a platybus bear absolutely wreck Prince Zuko, I don’t think it’s going to happen.” Sokka threw his head back at the mental imagery, his laugh sounding throughout the room. (Y/N) smiled at him as he laughed and realized just how unlucky she was. (Y/N), last remaining princess of the Northern Water Tribe was head-over-heels, wholeheartedly in love with Sokka.
---
PERM TAGLIST:
@beifongsss , @aroyaldarknessblr , @musicalkeys , @thefandomimagines , @blondie0458 , @kairiririri , @awesomelupe , @zukosvice , @tomshollandz , @lavendercrystals , @astralsaf , @realimbo , @mycollectionofnuts , @wingeddemonclub , @gingersnap126126 , @aangsupremacy , @marvel-ing-at-it-all , @davnwillcome , @someoneovertherainboww , @bigbuckyenergy , @breadqueen95 , @buttholland , @noodlesfluffy , @busyforkuvira , @error-loading-sorry , @bombardia , @la3divine , @just-a-teal-android , @theeavtrkyoshi , @brokennerdalert , @sukifans
FIC TAGLIST:
@aangsupremacy , @treestarrrrrrrr , @beifongsss , @mdgrdians , @aroyaldarknessblr , @musicalkeys , @aimee1602 , @plxstic-rose , @davnwillcome @squeamishdionysus , @clowninfortodoroki @thia-aep , @jinxed-tea @sara5208 @valiantprincessthea @alrightazula , @awesomelupe , @itsivyberry , @thebluelcdy , @samsmultifandomblogs , @loganrwebb , @minifruity , @cuddlykoala101 , @dionnaea , @alive-ahahah-fuck , @pipsqeak1326 , @krxliesdexd , @wastelandbbyg , @milk-n-cheese , @the-firebender-girl , @zukosvice , @justab-eautifulmess , @awkwardnesshabitat , @tomshollandz , @mmmidek-blog , @lavendercrystals , @dailytrashypanda , @bigbuckyenergy , @honey-ruel , @jackbamexpress , @astralsaf , @thebluelcdy , @solarsuki , @sometimeseverythingsucks , @nataliahaslosthershit , @teenbiology , @eridanuswave , @izzieserra , @astroninaaa , @jaylarkson , @realimbo , @chilifrylizard2 , @barnesdameron , @spacelesbianfanclub , @loser-keiji , @atlafanforlife , @mycollectionofnuts , @sokka-simp-420 , @thefandomimagines , @11mb0 , @wingeddemondclub , @waves-and-sunflowers , @none-of-ur-frackin-business , @alive-ahah-fuk , @hola-ninos , @maruchan77 , @killjoyybsinner , @jasminecalia , @moon-spirit-yue , @buttholland , @idk123906 , @missmorosis , @hola-ninos , @eruption951 ,
#atla#sokka x reader#aang x reader#zuko x reader#sokka#aang#zuko#katara#toph#iroh#suki#avatar#the last airbender#writing#fanfiction#azula#momo#appa
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Synapses: Part 2
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
WC: 3.3k
TW: Again, nothing, except excess amounts of knowledge about forensics. Also the books suggested are great reads.
Summary: Your not-so-date date with Spencer arrives and you prepare for the worst to find out that the two of you have more in common than you realize. It is then when you begin to find feelings for the resident genius.
Masterlist
Taglist: @obsssedwithjustaboutanything @green-intervention
The next couple of days are a blur, with the signing of paperwork at the Bureau and enjoying your time off before you’re officially hired. Your lack of excitement was confusing. Usually most are nervous or excited to start a new job. But, for you, seeing Spencer was the most nerve-wracking thing you had experienced in a while.
That Saturday, you wake before your alarm. Even though the night before you had a hard time getting to bed, you wake once the light shines in through your window. It streams in and baths you in a golden glow. You had told Spencer to meet you at the bookstore around nine in hopes of checking out some books and then grabbing a bite to eat together, but you knew little to nothing about how flighty he would be. Would he take the books and leave? Or would he want to stay and chat? Perhaps you were overthinking a little bit.
A startling ring comes from your phone, forcing you to sit up and grab at it to silence the loud alarm. You groan as you throw your legs over the side of the bed, walking over to the closet to look through the hangers of sweaters and blazers amassed from years in academia. You think back to that night, what Spencer was wearing. His usual get-up was a blazer over a sweater vest and a button-up, at least it was for that night. It was cold then too. A beige sweater over a white button-up and a thick wool coat would do for today, it was rather chilly in D.C with the recent snowfall.
Your stomach bubbles with butterflies as you walk into your bathroom. After splashing some cold water on your face, you brush your teeth and try to calm your shaky hands. The blood rushing through your ears is like an anthem playing to your every movement. Was your heart pounding that loudly? You pause and take a deep breath before walking out of your room and into the kitchen. Opting for decaf so that your hands don’t shake as violently, a splash of milk and a teaspoon of sugar drop into the blue cup before you sip on the warm drink and stare out at the cityscape through your window like the calm before the storm. It was peaceful to see the bright white snow stand out against the brick and concrete as people pass by and get on with their Saturday morning. The steam from the drink tickles your nose as you take small sips, trying to pass time in an effort to not show up too early. You didn’t want to appear as if this was the only thing you had been thinking about for the past week, even though it was.
“You can do this,” you whisper to yourself, the phrase playing over and over in your head like a mantra, before grabbing your bag off the island countertop and typing in the code to start the security alarm. Rushing out the door, you close it behind you, the blanket of safety falling around your shoulders. Just another one of your father’s little things. At least you always felt safe.
Making your way down the stairs, you get down to the lobby and then out the glass doors into the rushed city streets. The chill relaxes you, calms your warm clammy skin as you walk down the sidewalk to the bookstore. A small smile grows on your face as puffs of air are made present with each breath. Your apartment was perfectly located, close to both the metro and the bookstore that you loved so dearly. It killed you to leave it behind when you got your Ph.D. but you were determined to be near it when you moved back.
A familiar ringing of the store bell engulfs you in a feeling of comfort as you near the store. It had been years since you went on a date, not like this was one, but you were definitely interested in Spencer and feared scaring him away or just not being interesting enough for him.
Walking through the door was like being transported into another world, The walls were lined with books, floor to ceiling. It was like a palace and you knew that every single book had a different world you could escape to when you needed to, when reality got too much. Every time you brought your dad here to sign some of Shelby’s collection of his books, he too had a similar face of awe. His job was stressful enough, it was the least you could do to help him gain some sort of escape.
“Hey there!” Shelby, the owner, calls out.
“Hi, Shel! How are you today?” you ask, glancing over at at the wall of candles next to her and checking to see if any of your favorites were restocked. It was one of the most alluring parts of the store, the book-themed candles with matching scents.
“I’m doing great, how did your last interview go? I know you were on the last one of the whole process,” she asks.
“It went great! I actually got the job and celebrated that night with my dad and his coworkers. There was actually this one guy--”
You hear the bell ring behind you and twist around to see Spencer standing there, an awkward smile across his face.
“Hey, Spencer! Welcome to the best place on earth,” you swing back to wink at Shelby and then walk forward to stand next to the young doctor. It makes you smile to see his crooked tie sitting underneath his maroon sweater vest and navy blazer. Out of instinct, you reach forward and adjust it before pulling back to realize what you had done.
“I am so sorry, it’s just a force of habit from when I do it for my dad,” you mumble and look down to the floor bashfully in an attempt to hide from the awkward shame.
“No worries. Shall we get to the books?” he asks and looks out to the bookstore. It was mostly barren due to the early hours, but it was perfect in your eyes. The overwhelming smell of paper and ink fills your senses as you direct Spencer over to the true crime section.
“I remember when I first found forensics books in the true crime section. It makes sense, though, forensics is all technically up to interpretation as anything but to me, it’s an interesting way of looking at science,” you state and begin pulling out books from the shelves. The Poisoner’s Handbook by Deborah Blum, Forensics by Val McDermid, and All that Remains by Sue Black. It wasn’t the heftiest stack of books you had walked out with, but you were sure it would tie Spencer over for at least a couple days.
“The same thing could be said about profiling, a lot of people show hesitation when it comes to our profiles, but we haven’t been wrong yet. It was only really in the last 50 years that people started to take it more seriously, although some still don’t believe it to be helpful” he states and you look up at him.
“Alrighty, there are three of my favorite ones. And honestly, if anything I can get you my college textbooks if you really want to enrich yourself, but I doubt those will be as entertaining as these,” you say and let out a little laugh.
“I’ll probably get through these today,” he glances down at the stack of books as you stare in awe.
“How? No way,” you mumble, your eyes widening.
“I can read 12,000 words per minute,” you pause in place, staring in awe as he speaks.
“I stand corrected, I wish I had your mind when I was working on my dissertation. God, I spent hours reading research papers and textbooks that I thought my brain would melt. For you? Light reading,” you state and shake your head. “Spencer you’re incredible.”
“Hm,” he hums and looks down at the floor, almost like a resignation. It was sad to see. Did he not know how amazing his mind is?
“What?” you ask and frown.
“Most people don’t say that when I tell them about me. They usually look at me in awe or like I’m a freak of nature,” he mumbles and huffs. You pause and stare at him for a moment before speaking.
“Well, you shouldn’t listen to them,” you boldly state as he looks up. “Growing up, knowledge and education was the one thing that no one could take away from me. Spencer, I think you’re the coolest person I know, and my dad is pretty famous.”
He lets out a small laugh at that as you take a moment to look at him, really look at him. His hair was a plop of messy curls on top of his head, smoothed down to try and look somewhat put together, and his eyes were a deep brown although slightly dull from lack of sleep. He carried himself a little bit timidly, but he carried the books in his arms like they were the key to unlocking everything. And for that? You adored him.
“Do you wanna go grab some lunch? I’d love to get to know one of my new coworkers,” you tell him and begin walking over to Shelby.
“Sure,” he says, a slight flush on his cheeks appearing as Shelby rings him up and you go through a couple of the candles, taking a quick whiff of the ones that look interesting. You take one that smells like butterscotch and place it on the counter, reaching over to your bag to bring your wallet out.
“I got it,” he mumbles and smiles as you frown, shaking your head.
“No, it’s okay,” you tell him as Shelby takes his card, looking at you pointedly.
“No, it’s alright, I got it.” he responds and takes the small receipt back from Shelby along with his card.
You narrow your eyes, a playful smile appearing on your face as you stare at him while Shelby bags up the books and then hands you the candle.
“I’ve got lunch then,” you tell him and gently nudge his shoulder, a smile spreading over your face. He nods and the two of you walk out of the bookstore into the cold D.C. street. The cafe you had in mind was only a couple stores over and the irresistible smell of freshly baked pastries was unmistakeable as the two of you walked closer. As you approach, Spencer speeds up and holds the door open for you as you mutter a small thanks to him.
The cafe itself was rather small but full of people who were enjoying their mornings out. The menu was littered with several different drinks and food in French. Glancing into the case full of food, you set your eyes on a spinach and cheddar cheese quiche as well as a warm mug of tea. When you walk up to the counter, you look over at Spencer for a moment as he too stares up at the menu. He suddenly looks back at you and you feel like you get whiplash from how quickly you look back to the woman behind the register.
“I’ll take what she’s having and a coffee with room for cream and sugar,” he responds as you quickly hand over your card, ensuring that he has no time to take out his wallet. When the transaction is finished, the two of you move off to the side to wait for your food and drinks.
“So what else do you do besides working and reading? Although, I’d guess work takes up a majority of your time,” you ask, looking over at him as you rub your hands together to help warm them up a bit. You should have brought your gloves, but it had slipped your mind this morning in the midst of all your chaotic thoughts about the day.
“I play chess in the park when I find the time. I also like to watch foreign movies and knit occasionally, although I haven’t really found time for it recently. Most of my time outside of work is dedicated to reading,” he responds.
“Oh gosh, I could never knit. I tried it once and it went very poorly, I just have really bad coordination with my non-dominant hand. Crocheting is my personal favorite type of fiber art, it only really requires one hand,” you smile as your name is called out and your drinks are put on the counter alongside your food. Quickly, you grab the mug full of tea with one hand and feel relief as it begins to warm your cold fingers. With the other hand, the two of you grab your quiches and walk over to the condiments section where you watch as Spencer proceeds to dump several sugar packets into his coffee.
“Not a fan of the bitterness?” you ask and laugh as he dumps the sugar in, stirring it around with a stir stick.
“Just a sugar addict,” he smiles up at you and your heart almost skips a beat in your chest as the two of you maneuver over to a table.
“I remember, sugar over alcohol. I hope the cake that night was to your satisfaction,” you say and begin digging into your food after a quick sip of tea to warm your insides.
“I think it could have had more sugar,” you bark out another laugh and take a bite of the quiche.
“I’ll keep that in mind next time,” you mumble.
“What about you? What do you do in your free time?” he asks and you pause your eating to warm your hands with the mug of tea.
“I like to read as well, although I usually read science-related books. I’ve been trying to broaden my horizons and read some classical literature, I think there’s a lot to be learned from fiction that most scientists fail to recognize. There’s often a gap between humanities and science-related majors, but I think that they’re a lot more similar than they realize,” you speak and feel your hands sweat as you look up at Spencer who appears to be watching you as you talk. “Sorry, I’m rambling, aren’t I?’
“No, you’re fine. It’s not often that people think the two are connect when, in fact, there is a lot that can be bridged between the two. Science can only be progressed if information is shared and made available for people to read, that’s why papers are only accredited if they’re peer-reviewed. I’d like to think psychology is a marrying of the two, both humanities and science. Without the knowledge of human nature, we cannot predict and better ourselves as human beings but without the scientific process, we are left unable to process experiments and theories. So, you’re completely correct,” he says and the two of you are left staring at each other as you soak in the information. Your heart soars at his response and you can only smile as you bow your head slightly to try and hide the warmth in your cheeks.
“Very astute analysis there, Dr. Reid,” you mumble, hiding your smile in your cup as you bring it up to take a sip.
“Thank you, Dr. Montgomery,” Spencer does the same with his coffee and you feel your cheeks stretch even further than imagined, a warmth growing in your chest.
The rest of your “not date” is spent talking about similar things, the disparity that people seem to observe between humanities and science as well as fun facts thrown around to keep the atmosphere light.
“I mean, before photographs, people had to draw crime scenes to keep track of where everything was. The procedures for crime scene investigation were very poor then, though, but they did what they had to do. I find that facial reconstruction is one of my favorite connections between art and science, the fact that scientists learn how to sculpt faces in order to make an identification,” you state as you finish the last bite of your quiche and drink the rest of your tea.
“It goes hand and hand with forensic anthropology to help identify victims. It’s moreso for the family than it is to help find the unsub, but it can add to victimology and help understand how the victim died,” he responds, also finishing the last of his sickeningly sweet coffee.
“But it’s so cool how science and art really are married. To be good at figure drawing, you have to have a good understanding of anatomy and to successfully construct a face, you must know how to sculpt,” you finish and look down at the finished meal, you feel a bit sad to find your time with Spencer coming to an end. “I’ll bring this over to the trash.”
You stand and take the plates with their respective mugs over to the tub of used dishes and discard your tea bag and napkins used. Walking back over, you find Spencer standing next to the table grabbing his own bag, slinging it over his shoulder.
“Shall we?” he mutters and you nod, following him out the door.
“I’m going this way,” you tell him, pointing back in the direction of your apartment and the bookstore.
“You didn’t take the train?” he asks, hugging his bag close as he furrows his brow.
“Oh! No, I live just a couple blocks down from the bookstore. I chose my apartment for that reason,” you clutch your bag close as well, almost a sort of object to ground yourself so the endless nerves are redirected some place other than your brain.
“I’ll walk you down, then,” he states and moves to stand beside you.
“You don’t have to, it’s just a couple blocks,” you state and shake your head.
“I insist,” he smiles and you can feel your heart jump in your chest. Maybe it was the bright blue cloudy sky behind him or the chill in the air, but something about him felt a bit unreal.
“Al-Alright,” you mumble and begin back down the street, a calm silence settling as the two of you walk in tandem and allow the noise of D.C. to fill the air. The walk is short, shorter than you remember, but the warmth of Spencer next to you is distracting so perhaps the fact that you can’t keep track of the streets is enough to make it feel like no time has passed. In fact, you almost walk past your apartment building, but the glass doors swing open and stop you in your place as someone else walks out.
“This is me,” you glance up at the building and look back at him, unsure of what to say.
“We should do this again some time. I’ll bring you some of the classics that I have so you can have more to read,” he suggests but takes a step back, almost like he regrets the words coming out of his mouth as they do so. “Only if you want to, you don’t have to--”
“I’d like that,” another pause as your heart begins to pound faster. “I’ll text you.”
You lean forward on your tip toes and press a kiss to his cheek before spinning around and walking into the building, attempting to catch your breath and not turn to look at his reaction. Hoping and praying you didn’t overstep, you head into the elevator and look out at the street where you see Spencer staring in a sort of awe, a silly smile on his face. The doors close in front of you as you ponder. Maybe it was a date.
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid fanfiction#aaron hotchner#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#penelope garcia#david rossi#derek morgan#jj#jennifer jareau#emily prentiss
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(tbh I think one thing that frustrates me about season 3 of Lucifer is...how easily it would have been to get Cain right? He already brings everything to the table myth-wise?)
All the antagonists we had thus far were a) pretty nuanced and b) integrated into the story.
Sure, Malcolm was the most obviously "evil" of the bunch, but season 1 shows us again and again how much his experiences in hell shaped him into the person we meet. We know he was a dirt bag before, but after he is brought back, he's willing to do anything to avoid going back and he completely lost all connection to humanity because of that terror. We learn what hell does to a person - which is something that is relevant to understanding our main-character - and we learn something about the world we're in.
Then we have Amenadiel. Him bringing Malcolm back and doing all that stuff in season 1 like pretending to be a therapist, using Linda, orchestrating the theft of Lucifer's wings - tells us more about his major flaw: That he thinks doing his father's work justifies everything. And thinking that his father is always right, even if he doesn't understand his (supposed) orders. And that's the exactly the thing he's unlearning over the next seasons, the basis for his growth and development. We realise he's not a badTM person and he even ends up siding with Lucifer.
For the Goddess, they built up this expectation of some evil monstrous being - but then she's a mother who loves her children except she has too few moral boundaries and doesn't care about humans because - yes, compared to her they're pretty much insects and she was in hell for most of their history. We get her. We understand her motivations and even when she does horrible things like torturing Linda or freeing Perry Smith or stealing Azrael's blade, she never does them because she's a cackling evil villain - but for reasons that make sense in the terms of her character.
Then you have Cain.
Cain could have very easily fit into that pattern: He's in the bible. Even before the Eve-arc of season 4 (which casually drops Cain like a hot potato with even his own Mum saying that 'yeah, that guy sucked, can't blame you for killing him, Luce') he has every good reason to hate Lucifer:
His parents were created in Eden. Fucking paradise. Living the best life, fruit in their mouth, no pain, no age, no injury. Except Lucifer had a teenage temper tantrum and wanted to mess with his Dad and because of that, Cain's parents lost all that, got kicked out into a life of stone age harshness without any necessary survival skills and Cain grew up suffering pain and disease and hard work to survive, being attacked by predators and finally, killing his brother and being cursed to live that life for all eternity. (Another interesting aspect: This guy couldn't just drop in and out of the mortal realm like Lucifer. This is a guy who probably spent thousands of years working in the fields or doing some really menial labour, so he would be an interesting juxtaposition to Lucifer, who experienced the pleasures of Earth as a relief, a vacation from fucking hell. Then you have Cain who wants to die because - he thinks Earth is hell, but oh, boy, you have a big one coming down there).
He had every sensible motive to hate Lucifer. This would have made perfect sense, there was no reason to make him a police cop man with a secret crime syndicate under his thumb.
Plus, the entire show is about how first impressions aren't everything.
The main-character is the literal devil and the show is about how he's not evil incarnate. And as I said, all our main-antagonists follow that trend: Amenadiel is first introduced as this scary foe to Lucifer, but actually they are squabbling siblings from a dysfunctional family trying to make things work. Malcolm was a corrupt cop but it was the fall-out of the celestial family drama that brought out the worst in him. The Goddess is introduced as this scary being that brought plagues and pests to Earth - but hey, she's actually pretty complex and vulnerable at times.
All this harping on Cain being "the first murderer!!" is...actually pretty pointless, because most of our main-characters are to some degree down with murder, with the exception of maybe Chloe but even she isn't exactly a pacifist. It really goes against the grain of the show that Cain killing Abel thousands of years ago means he has to be bad and unjustified now.
Him committing a horrible act in the fucking stone age shouldn't be the defining characteristic that makes him good or bad- And the writers knew that. Hence, they came up with all this "sinnerman" stuff. But...hear me out: Why not let Cain be right? Why not give him the motive of actually wanting revenge on Lucifer for the fall-out his dumb apple-stunt had for his family, for himself? For all of fucking humanity, actually? - bc this is something that is very rarely addressed in the show, compared to the whole rebellion thing and it would be interesting to see them settle that:
Is it Lucifer's fault for messing with Adam and Eve? Or is it God's fault because he once again decided to punish and condemn with giant consequences and without explaining his "mysterious ways"?
Like, this discussion would be right up the alley of the shows major themes but instead we get this whole "yeah actually this immortal mortal guy who has hundreds of thousands of years of very vague backstory is in a love triangle with our main characters now but actually it will never work out because he's a fucking mob boss. Also he's Cain and collects rock." WHAT WAS THAT?
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Confessions - Spencer Reid
frens and ferns, IM OUT OF SCHOOL FOR A MONTH. so here’s a new fic about something i’ve been struggling with lately...
summary: With emily gone, Spencer is having a hard time coping with her death. After a little prodding, he finds comfort in y/n, who is struggling with their own demons.
gender: neutral (i think. i tried not to point to any gender terms so hopefully i did okay at it bc i dont feel like proofreading.)
Warnings: talk of addiction but nothing more
———
Getting home from a case was always, hard on you. There were days when it was harder to get up in the morning because of the physical and emotional toll the job put on your body. Ever since that un-sub broke your ankle, everything has been even harder.
“Y/L/N, nice to see you back." Morgan said as you exited the elevator.
“You too, D." You said, plastering a fake smile on your face. In truth, you wished that you were off for one more week but the world wasn't that kind to you.
The doors to the elevator were slowly closing when you heard Spencer shuffling quickly toward your direction.
Before you had the chance to throw your arm in the way of the elevator sensors, Spencer's slender body slipped through.
You were a newer member to the team. Well... You were the only new member to the team. Being a replacement for agent Emily Prentiss, the team getting to know you was a process. Derek trained you so he already knew what you were like in action but this was the first case the rest of the team saw you on.
The silence in the elevator was loud and thick with anticipation. Spencer was looking over at you in quick glances when he wasn't staring at his converse.
“You didn't press a number." Spencer said, barely loud enough for you to hear.
"Oh... I guess that explains why if felt like I was going nowhere." You chuckled at your joke and winced when you met Dr. Reid's blank gaze.
"Do you..." He paused.
Spencer shook his head, clearing the thought from his mind. You continued staring but he dropped his gaze back to his shoes as if he hadn't started and dropped a question.
The elevator doors opened, showing an empty garage. The two of you gestured for the other to exit first but you ended up going first.
“Did you want to ask me something. Dr. Reid?" You said, watching him hesitate.
"Spencer." He said, ignoring the question. "My friends call me Spencer."
"I didn't think we were friends yet." You blankly. It wasn't meant to be funny but you couldn't help but smile.
“My team consists of my friends. As you are on my team, we're friends." Spencer's face never changed.
"Okay, Spencer." You looked at him. If you weren't so worried about getting home, you would've indulged in the moment. But all you wanted to do right now was be alone with some pizza and take the edge off from today.
"If that's all..." You tried to close the interaction with him by taking a few steps back but Spencer took just as many slow steps forward.
"Actually," Spencer began, "how do you do it?"
You faked a chuckle. "Do what?"
“Hide your addiction so well." Spencer was so pointblank sometimes.
"What are you talking about?" You tried to control the beads of sweat that threatened to pool.
"Everybody knows.” It's your ankle that started the painkillers and you couldn't stop. It took you away from the pain, the humiliation.
“How could you be so stupid as to get caught? You're even dumber for finding solice in the feeling when you've got all of this support around you? You've got a family who..." Spencer trailed off.
Your head was still reeling from the beginning of his statement. Everyone knew... But how could that be? It wasn't obvious but something was off about the distant look in Spencer's eyes. It was like he wasn't looking or talking to you. The anger laced in his tone wasn't for you...
“Spencer," you took a step towards him, "Are you talking about you?" Spencer stopped talking. You weren't used to seeing him so quiet.
"It's been a while." Spencer looked down at his converse. "Emily was there. When it got bad, I would cuddle up with her cat on her couch and try to forget the thoughts. She wouldn't make me feel like a burden at 2 a.m., when I was screaming myself awake. She always told me to stay as long as I needed, even when I was positive she was fed up with me. I wish I believed her. I wish I stayed." Spencer tapered off into silence, sniffling.
A pipe dripping. Footsteps in the stairwell. A car alarm chirping. All of those things sounded louder than they normally would. This wasn't Spencer cornering you. This was a confused and hurting boy that was begging for help. He just didn't know how to say what he needed right now.
“Do you..." You started but stopped because it didn't feel right.
Where do you start with someone who is just like you: broken, hurting, and alone.
How do you comfort someone without enabling them to do something destructive that might make everything worse?
How do you avoid hurting someone when all you wanted to do was hurt yourself, in a way.
"Do you like pancakes?" You asked, startling him out of his thoughts. "Pancakes? Sure." Spencer slowly lifted his head and shrugged.
You started walking to your car, motioning for Spencer to follow.
The car ride with Spencer was filled with silence. The whole time, you were thinking about ways to explain the situation to Spencer without making it worse. Spencer was trying to decide if talking to you was a good idea after all, considering you were taking him somewhere pancake related.
Pulling up to the run-down diner, you looked over at Spencer, who was staring out the window.
"I promise the pancakes are better than the place looks." You chuckled, getting Spencer's attention.
"I wasn't really worried about the taste of the pancakes..." Spencer trailed off.
"Good, I guess." You said, a little bit defeated.
You and Spencer walked into the diner, where you were greeted by a friendly older woman named Janice. She knew your name by heart, since you were a regular, and she seated you at your normal booth.
"Actually, would you mind seating us at 12? This is Spencer, the guy I've told you about..." You blushed, hoping you said everything low enough for Spencer not to notice. His mind was elsewhere so he wasn't listening as he normally would. A part of you was grateful for that.
Janice did a once-over at Spencer, softly grinning, and brought you to table 12.
Despite the outside looking dingy, the inside of the diner was cleaner than Spencer thought it would be. He wasn't really fond of booths but these weren't the pillow seat booths where children could hide things between the bottom seat and the backrest. This was the plastic seats that hurt your butt after a little while. But what he noticed that was different about the seating at the table was that one half was a booth and the other half consisted of two four-legged chairs.
"I know you don't like the germs in booth seats so I figured this would be a better option." You said, unable to meet his eyes.
Spencer was shocked as you slid into the booth seat, avoiding his eyes. Spencer pulled out his chair, temporarily distracted by the fact that he never mentioned how much he hates booth seats. You paid attention and noticed that about him. What else had you noticed?
"So..." Spencer folded his hands in his lap nervously.
"Let's order and then we'll talk." You said, trying to focus on the task at hand.
Placing your orders, you went with your usual breakfast at midnight and he just ordered the same thing you ordered.
"It'll be good, I promise." You said, giving him a small smile.
"You never answered my question." Spencer said, looking up at you.
"I know." You were getting nervous again. The nerves hadn't stopped since Spencer asked that question in the parking lot but you were trying really hard to find an answer to it.
"How do you do it?" Spencer asked again.
"Spencer, it's not that simple. I can't give you an answer like that over something so complex. Why do you want to know?" You asked, trying to focus on meeting his eyes.
Spencer's gaze was intense when he wanted it to be so you settled for staring at the tip of his nose.
"I'm struggling, y/n. Emily was... She was family to me. If Hotch is the dad, Rossi is the cool uncle, JJ is the mom, Derek is the older brother, and Emily is..." Spencer's voice caught in his throat. "Was the big sister. I lost a sister the day she died and I'm lost without her."
"Spencer, I'm so sorry..." You said, wanting to hug him.
A tear slipped down Spencer's face as you watched him frustratedly wipe it away.
"It's not fair, you know?" Spencer continued. "I survived the worst days of my life. I got to live after experiencing torture and she didn't do anything but fall in love with someone who wasn't..."
There was a moment of silence as you let Spencer get his feelings out. While the two of you said nothing, Janice brought your food and drinks to your table. She must have sensed the tension between you and Spencer because once you thanked her, she didn't hover or make additional conversation.
"It just hurts and I don't... I don't want to feel it. I just want to escape the constant pain and be happy again, just for a little while. It doesn't have to stay forever but I don't want this pain to hurt like this for now." Spencer cut into his pancakes, taking a bite. His face changed into something of contentment.
"I come here when I have a... I guess you could say craving." You started, "Carbs and sugar are good for the itching feeling you get when you really need a fix."
A moment passed as the two of you enjoyed the food in front of you. After downing half of your food, you decided to speak again.
"What's your drug of choice, if you don't mind me asking?" You quietly said, your eyes staying trained on the way your butterknife slowly cut into your pancakes.
"Dilaudid." Spencer was so upfront about it. You thought you would have to pull it out of him but he made your job easier.
"Ah... Opioids are a bitch to kick. Controlled substance so I won't ask how you got it but I understand it's not easy. There was this study we had to do in training. This one agent got captured and tortured and the BAU had to watch as he was drugged, tortured, and almost died... I guess you would know them, right?" You asked, trying to figure out which team member it was.
"That was me." Again, Spencer being upfront.
"Oh...Spencer, I'm so sorry... I didn't know." You were remorseful, you shouldn't have brought it up.
"That's where it began. I begged for him not to do it the first time, not wanting the drugs. But after that? After the torture and pain and... Everything? I craved that release. And even after he died, I just wanted to get away from all of the stress in life. Feel warmth in my veins, mentally zoning out for just long enough to reset my mind and be reminded that there was something good in the world..." Spencer looked over your shoulder but his eyes weren't fixed on a particular spot.
That's the thing about being an addict... You don't realize how much it hurts to be alive until the high sends you crashing back down. And, especially in our line of work, all you want is to stay up for as long as possible because the horrors of reality will tear you apart..." You finished.
Spencer's attention came back to you as you spoke, making you a little uncomfortable. You couldn't meet his eyes.
"I went to a couple meetings in the past." Spencer said, thinking about his experiences there. "I didn't feel like I belonged. I have a good life. Stable job. I'm fortunate enough to have a roof over my head. My mom is taken care of by capable people. I don't have to worry about anything. And the guys there? They're struggling in many cases. They're fighting for the things I take for granted and I didn't know how I could stand to be in the same room with my privileges and pretend like my problem was important..." Spencer trailed off.
"Spencer, your addiction is valid." You were finally able to look him in the eyes and emphasize your point.
"Is it, though?" Spencer stared back at you, a challenging tone laced his voice.
"It's not fun..." You started, unable to look at Spencer any longer. "I don't do it for fun or because I want to stay high. I don't do it for the feeling it gives me. I do it because I feel like I have to."
"What do you mean?" Spencer tilted his head like a puppy who was trying to understand a new word.
"After I broke my ankle, I was prescribed these... Off brand pills. They didn't really help unless I snorted them. And even then, they didn't help my ankle or me. So I found something stronger. A friend of mine is a doctor and when I go to see him, I'm able to... I guess manipulate him into giving me the good stuff, the stuff that makes my thoughts slow down, calms the voice, gives me a sense of peace and not this constant anxiety." You said, hands tapping the table.
"Oh..." Spencer said, taking in what you were saying.
"I'm an addict not for pleasure but for pain. And my struggle is no greater or lesser than yours." You said, fingers still tapping away. "I struggle, like you, except the difference is I'm newer to the team so they don't know what it's like to see me in my chaotic neutral state. What did you do when you had cravings before? You must have been clean for a couple years now, right?"
"I went to Emily... I always went to Emily. I play back these moments when I snapped at her for wanting to help and I wish I just..." Once again, Spencer's voice was caught in his throat.
"She was your safe space when you felt like you couldn't turn to anyone else." You said, understanding. "You don't have to be romantically inclined to have a safe space with someone. It's whomever you find solace in, for any reason under and over the sun."
"I wouldn't feel this way if she were here..." Spencer said, more to himself as if he were trying to be convincing.
"Spencer, you have to be honest with yourself. If it wasn't this, it would be something else. And that something else might not have landed you with someone who was willing to assist you in your recovery to stay clean." You said, finishing your pancakes.
"What?" Spencer did a double take. No one had ever offered to help him. He always had to be the first to make the move but even then, everyone was reluctant to take on the responsibility of Spencer.
"Isn't there an unspoken rule about addicts not being with each other?" Spencer asked, genuinely concerned.
He hoped not because he would love to have someone he could finally confide in, someone who wouldn't make him feel like a burden.
"No, that's about addicts not dating each other. But I think that as friends, we can understand each other in ways others cant. We can fight together. Have you notiiced the craving is gone, for the most part?" You asked, sure that Spencers single slice would be gone in a moment.
"Okay. Deal. We can confide in one another and maybe it'll help us get a grip on reality when we feel ourselves slipping.”
“Okay.”
—
taglist: @goldentournesol @averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl
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*ahem* PLEASE DO A FIC BASED OFF YOUR HARVEY AND PREGNANT WIFE HEADCANNONS PLEASE
ASK AND YE SHALL RECEIVE DEAR BBY ANON. I was honestly so excited to write this that I wrote it in a few hours. Just woo!
The headcannons were my inspiration for this, but I hope I captured everything :0
**edit** Headcannons post where this all came from -- Here!
I had a lot of emotions, myself, when writing this. Mostly do to personal reasons, but I enjoy writing about Harvey in this way. I think it truly captures his nervous, but caring personality. That he would do all that he could to provide the best care for his pregnant wife.
In any case, I hate to say it, but I feel like this jumped around a bit- heh. Honestly there was so much I enjoyed from the headcannons that it was genuinely hard to pick just a few! I hope you enjoyed this though! I did my best and loved every minute of it! Thank you so much for the ask! (Also, the small ‘ahem’ in the beginning legit killed me. It’s so funny)
Word Count: 1918
The farmer cracked open her eyes one sunny morning. She could tell she slept in past 6am, but she was too groggy to be mad; her body felt stiff and her mind heavy, as if a headache was coming on. She pulled the covers over her head and shifted her body to try and get more sleep- she would have fallen asleep if she didn’t start to feel nauseated. It came on quickly and was growing more, the farmer shot up from her bed throwing the blanket behind her. She covered her mouth and bounded towards the bathroom, “H-Honey?” she could faintly hear as she ran past Harvey holding a plate of breakfast for her. The farmer barely made it to the toilet when she threw up any contents in her stomach. With heavy footsteps, Harvey ran into the bathroom after her, “Honey, are you-. Oh, I see.” He remarked as he crouched beside her and pulled her hair back. “I have some water here,” he mentioned as he switched hands to stroke her back as she threw up again.
There was a momentary pause as the farmer tried to gather her breath, “Oh, wow,” she whispered to Harvey. “I know, it’s okay. I’ve got you.” He reassured to her, giving her a soft kiss on her forehead. She would have appreciated it more if she didn’t immediately throw up again, “I promise that’s not because you kissed me,” she chuckled to herself. Harvey laughed and continued stroking her back until she felt like it was over. He handed her some water and walked back to the kitchen to grab medicine and a lemon slice. When he came back, she was standing and holding her head, “Maybe you should lay back down. I asked Marnie to help me with your farm work today so there’s nothing for you too worry about.” He smiled and the farmer nodded her head in agreement. She took the medicine that Harvey offered and grasped the lemon slice in her hand, walking away and smelling it. “Oh, we have a long way to go, but I’ll be here for every minute of it.” He whispered to himself with a soft smile.
After a few weeks of helping her with her morning sickness, it had quickly become about 30ish weeks since they found out that she was pregnant. Every day it was a surreal moment for Harvey, he almost couldn’t believe that it was true. The closer it was to her due date, the more he got emotional- many years he spent pent up in his apartment above the clinic. Many sleepless nights and many lonely ones- it was an eye-opening moment for him when he realized he would be a father. It scared him, no doubt. He feared he wouldn’t be good enough or if he provide enough for his family. What if his child didn’t like him? What if they rejected him or liked his wife more? He knew he was overthinking it and that he would do his best to provide his wife and child with anything they wanted, but he couldn’t help to think of his worst-case scenarios sometimes.
He still worked at the clinic, Tuesdays, and Thursdays to do annual check-ups on everyone in town. He compiled a list of questions to ask when he knew one of the mothers in town would be coming in. It was Summer, day 18, and he knew Robin would be coming in. He decided to ask her because she took things seriously but kept things light enough that he would be most comfortable asking her.
He stood and approached the front door when he saw Robin already inside and waiting, “Hey, Doc,” she smiled as she stood. “Hello, Robin! Follow me.” They made there way into the back as Robin complained of her right arm hurting again, “I’ll take a look, but it’s probably because you work too much. You need to give your arm a break now and again from swinging your ax,” She laughed a bit, “Yeah, but you know how I feel about that.” He sighed but carried on with her check-up. “Looks like you’re good Robin, but please give your arm a break!” He scolded her but she just held up a hand dismissing it. She began to walk out when Harvey stopped her, “Actually, could I ask you a few questions?” Perplexed, Robin sat on one of the stools in the room, “I’m all ears!” He smiled and pulled out a long list of questions he had- Robin peeked at some of them, her eyes wide with amusement. “Ha, you’re worried about being a dad, aren’t you?” Harvey blushed and broke her eye contact, “Well, yes, but also, I want to make sure I’m taking care of my wife well and wanted to ask your experience with pregnancy.” Perhaps… Robin wasn’t the best person to ask because she named off every single thing she could think of for providing the best care for the farmer. Robin made it her mission to prop up the farmer in every way to get her everything she wanted. It took about an hour of talking, but once Harvey understood it all-, she began walking to the door, “Oh, and when your wife suddenly breaks down into tears, just hold her. Sometimes it’s best not to ask questions!” She laughed, leaving Harvey a bit confused.
He made his way home from work, reviewing everything he and Robin talked about. She was so quick to answer every question he had, but she reassured him in all the ways possible. His biggest stress relief is when she looked at him with honest eyes and said, “Harvey, you’re thinking about this too much. You’re going to be a great dad. Just take every day as it comes.”
It calmed his thoughts greatly as he walked through the door. He was greeted with his wife sitting at the table, she turned and looked at him, “Welcome home, love.” He dropped his stuff to the ground and walked to his wife. She was a bit confused, but she smiled, “Everything okay?” Harvey bent down on his knees and hugged her and the baby. He was careful not to disturb the baby bump in any way, but he wanted to drink in his wife’s love after his day at work. She began combing her hands through his hair, “Everything is just fine.” He reassured her as he used his thumb to stroke her belly. It was peaceful to feel her love and feel accepted by her. He was floored that he was going to be a father, and he was humbled to know that he had the best wife in the entire world at his side.
He sprung up from their tender hug when he felt a kick against his hand. “O-oh! The baby! It kicked me, did you see it, honey?!” His eyes were wide with excitement, a rosy color growing in his cheeks. His wife giggled a bit as she watched her husband. His heart rate sprang up and he gently placed his hands on either side of her belly, he watched it carefully and said, “H-Hey! You can hear me! I’m your daddy! Yeah! I’m your father, and I promise to protect you for the rest of my life.” He gave her belly a soft kiss when he felt another kick. His eyes sparkled, brimming with tears, as he watched their child move within her. He helped women give birth for some time now- it never fazed him or affected him like this. This was something totally new that he was experiencing for the first time. This time it was different. This time it was their child- he married the woman he loved more than anything in this world and now he would get to watch his child grow before his very eyes. A few tears fell as he watched this unfold. It was a magical moment that brought tears to his wife’s eyes too. He hugged her belly, shedding a few more tears as he did so.
Through the rest of the night- things went on as they normally did. He would check her ankles to see if she had any swelling and he was relieved when she didn’t. He would rub lotion on her stomach to prevent any stretchmarks and routinely made healthy balanced dinners for his wife. Everyday he would brush his wife’s hair and style it like she normally does- course he messed up a few times, but eventually got the hang of it. She was internally grateful for Harvey. He provided her with as much comfort as he could, and whenever she had any cravings (no matter how weird) he would do his best to get them for her. He eventually started coming home with tomatoes though, considering that seemed to be what she requested the most. When Pierre would question him on all the tomatoes, he’d explain it for his wife. Pierre laughed and would send him on his way, “My wife requested tea leaves once! Not even the drink! Just the leaves!” Pierre would share through his laughter.
Everything had been going smoothly until he came home one night to find his wife in a fit of tears. He dropped anything he was holding and immediately ran by her side. She sat on the couch, holding a blanket to her chin, constantly wiping her eyes and blowing her nose. “What happened? Are you all right?” She didn’t respond, just continued to cry as she clutched the blanket. Retrieving her some water, he sat beside her and held her tightly. “It’s all right, I got you.” He whispered to her, which seemed to make her cry even harder. It overwhelmed him to say the least! He figured he would take this as any regular day, but she seemed to have other plans. He collected his own thoughts and wondered if this were the hormones talking, She should have primarily experienced this in the first trimester. They level off after a few months… He thought to himself as he continued to hold her. She finally broke through with a few hiccups of tears, “I was cleaning today- and- and,” He had no idea what she was trying to say! She half mumbled them, but she continued, “and I saw the books on your table, and those love letters!” She cried again, clutching onto Harvey, Heh, well suppose I can’t surprise her with that now, he sighed with relief when she said this, “I planned to give you a love letter after you had had our child.” He explained and she sat up to blow her nose, “Th-that’s just so sweet,” she managed to say. Harvey grew a big smile when he saw her- any fears he had had melted away, and he had begun to shed a few tears himself. “You know I love you, right?” He spoke as he reached up and wiped away a few of her tears. She leaned against his hand, “I-I know.” “Mm,” He started and pulled her into another embrace, “No,” he whispered, “I mean really love you. You’ve given me everything I’ve ever wanted in my life. I love you with all my heart.”
The rest of their experience together went by smoothly for the remaining time. The time was approaching that they would both meet their child for the very first time, both elated and nervous, they had each other for support.
#sdv#sdv harvey#sdv story#sdv fic#harvey stardew valley#stardew valley harvey#stardew farmer#stardew valley#stardew harvey#stardew valley farmer#sdv ask#sdv farmer
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Priceless | Bang Chan | 04
Chapter 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8
Pairing: rich kid! Bang Chan (Stray Kids) x female reader
Genre: Crime, enemies to friends to lovers, angst, fluff
Word Count: 3,4k
Summary: Chan knows. He knows who you are.
DISCLAIMER: Everything in this fanfic is fiction - that includes Chan’s fictional father who of course does not represent Chan’s real father! ♥
There he was, sitting in his chair while staring at you. One of the biggest and most successful journalists of Seoul Times and also your new boss. He was wearing a nice suit, probably Gucci or something. His hair was slicked back and he looked like he walked straight out of a magazine.
Before he could say anything you politely bowed. “Hello, Mr. Lee! My name is Y/N and Hana asked me to work next to you as your assistant. I hope that we can do a great job together.”, you said as politely as possible. Your hands were sweaty and you just hoped that you didn’t embarrass yourself.
Then you heard a laugh. “Why are you so formal? Okay, I get it, I’m your boss. But you look around my age. Please, call me Minho. Nice to meet you, Y/N.”, he got up and shook your hand.
You looked at him in shock. “Oh. I’m sorry. It’s just… you are such a big name around here. I wanted to be polite.”
He gave you a smile. “It’s okay, really! Oh, and I don’t usually wear this kind of attire. I just had an interview where they took pictures of me. Expect me to come here with my beloved sweatpants.”
You looked at him weirdly. Well, if you had such a high position you could do whatever you want. But he was a little too laidback. Not that it was bad but it was just unusual. “Okay. What should I do? Research? Edit articles?”
Minho sat back down and put his feet on his desk with his hands behind his head. “Is that what you have been doing the whole time? Editing?”
You nodded as you put your own stuff on your desk. “Yeah. So much for a journalistic degree, huh?”
Minho smirked. “Well, you aren’t here to do that. What is your dream? Tell me. You must have come here with something on your mind.”
You took a sip out of your water bottle as you thought about his question. “I guess writing the frontpage article? I actually asked Mr. Park and had a proposition but he didn’t see me as experienced enough.”
Minho played with his bracelet and then looked at you. “As you can see, we don’t have much of an age difference. Persistence is the key and a little help from someone who has experience. That would be me in this case. When I started here 4 years ago, I was doing the exact same thing as you but I convinced my supervisor that I was capable of doing more.”
“Are you saying that you want to help me?”, you asked in surprise.
He nodded confidently. “Yes! What do you want to write about?”
You hesitated for a second. Could you trust him? At the same time, this was your chance to finally do more than just editing. “Kevin Bang, how shitty of a person he is and all of his wrongdoings.”, you said in a serious tone.
Minho’s eyes widened a little at the mention of his name. “What? Kevin Bang? You do know that he has a lot of power over the media, don’t you?”
“There was this girl who exposed him at the gala, so there is already a lot of negative press. I have been doing a lot of research about him. I have more proof than any other reporter in this city.”, you said confidently.
Minho’s expression faltered. “What kind of proof?”
“I won’t show you that. If you help me with Mr. Park, I will write the article and when it’s finished, you can read over it. Is that alright with you? Because I’m still not done with my research.”, you told him, waiting for his response. You needed to make sure that you could trust him.
Then he looked at you with the same amount of confidence as you. “Okay. Just write your article and if it’s frontpage-worthy I will tell Mr. Park about it.”
You smiled brightly at him. “Thank you, Mr. L-, I mean Minho.” You were excited and would have hugged him immediately if he wasn’t your boss. Hana was right, you could learn from him and see it as an opportunity to gain more experience.
Your first workday with Minho was more than okay. You got to know each other and it turned at that he was a really nice guy. It helped that he was your age too. He must have been a super genius to graduate so early and get so many promotions at that age. He was impressive, you had to give him that.
Maybe Minho was your ladder to success.
♥.
Three weeks passed and Chan was still driving you to work and home. You were still helping him with university work. Every time Chan drove you home, he insisted on eating something together before dropping you off home. Your relationship developed more into a friendship. Chan made you laugh and you had to admit that you had a great time with him whenever he was with you. He always asked you if you were fine and if you didn’t, he would make sure that you would feel good again. It felt nice for change.
This time you met Chan at a place of your choice. It was actually a small tteobokki stand in your neighborhood. Chan was a little confused at first.
“You brought me here for tteobokki?”, he asked, not really happy about your choice.
“Look, to understand Shakespeare, you need to have a full stomach and the best ttebokki in town!”, you said and fed him with one rice cake. “Nice, right?”
Chan was chewing but his expression changed quickly into a happy one. You smiled at him knowingly. You couldn’t figure out how he could be so sweet but his father was not? “Okay, I need more of this!”, Chan said while eating one more, happily.
“I noticed that you were a little down today, so I thought I would take you to my favorite spot in my neighborhood.”, you smiled at him, genuinely. Of course, you wanted to know if it had something to do with his father but something deep inside of you was curious and cared about Chan’s own feelings and thoughts. But you were totally denying that.
This was the thing. You were starting to see Chan in a completely different light. Very different from his father. You still didn’t trust him because, after all, he still is a Bang. But he was gentle and caring. Whenever he noticed that you had a bad day, he would bring you chocolate after picking you up from work. It was the small things that made you think differently of him.
“Really? Thank you.”, he smiled as he continued to eat the delicious rice cakes.
“So, spill. What’s bothering you?”
Chan stopped eating and sighed. “Maybe not here.”
You looked at him, confused. “Where else?”
“Follow me.”
Before you knew it, you were back in Chan’s car, heading to an area in Seoul that you have never been to before. It was a very posh and rich area, which didn’t surprise you. But what surprised you wasn’t the villa that Chan parked his car in front of. No, in fact, it was the treehouse that was behind the villa which seemed to carry a lot of memories for Chan.
The treehouse however was at least 4 meters up and it looked huge. Perks of being a rich kid.
“You want me to climb up there?!”, you said, your eyes widening. You would probably break a bone. Hell, you would break ten.
“Don’t worry, Y/N. It’s safe, I promise!”, Chan assured you as he climbed up. You had to admit, the treehouse looked bigger than your apartment. Well, your apartment wasn’t that big either.
“If I break something, you have to buy me a new car!”, you said, jokingly, climbing the wobbly ladder. “Okay, I shouldn’t look down. Oh my god. Okay I looked down and that was the worst decision of my life!”
Chan smiled down at you as he watched you from the treehouse. “Are you afraid of heights?”
“A little.” That was the understatement of the century. You hated it. The background behind that was a kid that pushed you from the diving board when you were 6.
You were pretty far up and saw Chan’s face getting closer and closer. “Here, take my hand.”, he said as he reached out to you. You quickly grabbed his hand. You weren’t sure what kind of workout Chan did, but he pulled you up effortlessly but lost his balance and somehow you landed on top of him, your faces just a few centimeters apart.
“Thank you…”, you said, blushing furiously. What the hell? You shouldn’t be blushing, get your act together!
Chan cleared his throat as he looked at you. “Yeah, no problem.”
You quickly got up and looked around in the treehouse. It was decorated with tiny furniture. There was a rug where Chan sat down on. On the walls were pictures of his family, pictures which were probably drawn by Chan himself as a kid and a big teddy bear.
One picture piqued your interest. “Is this your mother?”
Chan stood up and stood next to you to inspect said picture. On the picture Chan looked around the age of 4 with his mother lifting him up in the air. Both of them looked happy. As if that was the happiest day of their lives.
Chan sighed a little. “Yeah. It was a year before she died.”
You have always wondered what really happened with his mother. The media never really spoke about Chan’s mother, probably because his father didn’t want it. “I’m sorry. What was the reason…? You don’t have to answer me though! Only if you are comfortable.”
Chan sat down on the rug again with you sitting closely next to him. “Oh, don’t worry. It was cancer but they found it in a very late stage. She had no chance of survival.”, he said, a hint of sadness in his voice.
Chan’s hand was right next to yours and you slowly put your hand on top his hand. “Everything happens for a reason. Even sad things like this.”
The young boy turned his head towards you. “Yeah. You’re right.”, he said as he took your hand and squeezed it. “The reason I took you here to talk is because I always come back here when I have a bad day. This house still belongs to dad and we used to live here when my mom was still alive. I think it’s the last memory I have left from her and coming back here feels like I’m getting motherly advice. I know it sounds stupid.”
You felt your heartbeat quicken, feeling his hand in yours. “No, it doesn’t. Everyone deals differently with their problems. I get it. No one will search for you here. I can see why you would come here.”
Chan completely turned to you. “I have a feeling that my dad doesn’t really trust me with his business. He is like a stranger sometimes. I feel like I only have a real father if I go to events with him. He is acting so strange when it comes to his job. I don’t know.”, he confessed.
The first thing that came to your mind was not “what is his father hiding?”, as it should have. No, you thought about Chan, who was telling you about his feelings and thoughts. You just wanted to hug him. “Is that what’s bothering you?”
He nodded. “Yeah. My problems sound like a luxury to you, right?”
You thought about it for a second. “No, not really. I may struggle with money but I am truly happy when it comes to my family. You know… My father struggled a lot in the past. We lost everything because of some things and people in the past. But he never gave up on us. And not having a proper family sounds horrible to me. So, no. Your problems aren’t a luxury.”
“This is the first time that someone listened. I mean, really listened. Thank you, Y/N.”
Chan’s eyes never left yours. The air somehow thickened. You could have cut the tension with a knife. Before you knew it, both of you were inching closer to each other slowly. You didn’t know what was happening. It was as if your body was reacting on its own.
Before anything could happen, your phone rang and you quickly sprang apart. You then came back to your senses. You couldn’t fall for him. Never. You were planning on destroying his father. This was the last thing you should do!
“Uh… I should take this. I’ll go down… And then you can drive me home.”
Chan just nodded, not able to say anything after that weird situation.
♥.
You decided to not bring that almost kiss thing up again. Chan didn’t bring it up either. You were both talking about your feelings that day and you were emotional. Things like that can happen, right? Maybe. Maybe not.
You didn’t want to think about that moment because it made you feel weird. You felt flustered, your hands felt sweaty, so no. This was not the right feeling towards someone whose last name is Bang.
However, you couldn’t risk losing him because you still needed him for your article. This time, you invited him over to your little apartment because he was about to write his exam about Shakespeare and you wanted to study with him in a cozy environment. And nothing screamed more cozy than your apartment. You had told Jisung to go out so that he wouldn’t see Chan. He assumed that it was for a date and still teased you about it.
You were a little nervous for Chan to come to your apartment. Not only because of the whole treehouse incident but more because of the fact that you were hiding the true reason why you were spending time with him.
To make him feel more welcome, you decided to bake some cookies. They were in the oven and waited to be eaten. Then you heard the bell and you quickly let Chan in. “You look cold!”, you said and ushered him in.
“It is cold.”, he said and looked around in your apartment. “Looks cozy.”
You nodded. “I know, right?”
Chan then sat down on the couch of your living room and looked at you. “So, I brought my Shakespeare stuff. I hope I will pass the test without any problems.”, he said and smiled. “But with you as my teacher, I will pass for sure.”
You blushed a little. “No! You are a good student. Don’t pin this on me!”, you smiled at him and sat down next to him.
Chan sighed happily. “Isn’t it weird to sit here? You didn’t really like me and your car doesn’t work because of me. And yet, we’re here and you help me with Shakespeare.”
You felt a pang of guilt hit you because of the boy sitting right next to you. “Yeah. I guess my love for Shakespeare saved you, huh?”
He chuckled. “Thank god for Shakespeare.”, then Chan stopped and sniffed. “Uh… It smells like something is burning?”
Then your eyes widened. “Fuck! My cookies!”, you quickly ran to the kitchen to find very black cookies that looked inedible now. You immediately turned the oven off and were met with black smoke.
Chan opened the window of your kitchen. “Why did you make cookies?”, he said and laughed hysterically at your baking fail.
“I just wanted to make something sweet. It helps while studying.”, you pouted. “Damn it.”
Chan walked up to you and took your face in his hands, making your heartbeat quicken. He squished your cheeks together so you had to pout more. “Don’t be sad. Let’s make another batch and then we can eat them, alright?”
You put your hands on top of his and pushed them down. “Yes, sir.”, you said while trying to hide your embarrassment. “Okay, I bet you never baked before.”
Chan looked offended and dramatically put his hand on his chest. “Why would you say that? I could be a great baker!”
You gave him a deadpanned look. “You are rich, Chan.”, you said while your facial expression literally said: “Of course, you never baked.”
He sighed. “Okay, I don’t cook or bake often. But that doesn’t mean that I can’t have a secret talent?”, he then laughed.
You grinned at him. “Yeah, sure. Let me take out the ingredients and then we’ll start.”
Before you knew it, you were baking with Bang Chan. He helped you measure all the ingredients and for a moment you felt like you were in a relationship. As if he was your boyfriend and everything was fine. You quickly gave yourself a reality check. You were here with him for your own selfish reasons.
“Hey, Y/N.”, Chan said while you were stirring the batter.
“Huh?”, you looked up at the boy who was eating some chocolate chips. “Don’t eat that!”
“Stop nagging. You have something on your face.”, he then said with a sly grin on his face.
“What? What is it?”, you said in panic, wiping your whole face. “Where is it? Is it gone?”
Chan stepped closer to you. “It’s right… here!”, Chan smeared some flour on your face.
“Oh no. You did not do that!”, you squeaked and giggled as you threw some flour at Chan’s face. It was way more than what Chan threw.
Chan stopped for a second. “Oh, it’s on!”
After that short sentence a flour war broke out. Chan was hiding behind the little kitchen island and then you were running around, making everything dirty. Suddenly, you slipped on the flour, right on top of Chan who held you but slipped due to the same reasons.
You were laughing hysterically on the floor. Once again, everything seemed so simple and natural between the two of you. You couldn’t believe that he was the son of the man who destroyed your parents’ lives. “Who is going to clean this up?”, Chan asked, still laughing.
You just looked in his eyes, not daring to look away. “I don’t know. The kitchen fairies?”, you said, still lying on top of him.
“Yeah. I don’t think so.”, Chan said, also looking at you. The look he gave you made you feel weak in your knees. What the hell was happening?
You then slowly got up and tried to clean the flour in the kitchen and on yourselves. “Just because we wanted to bake some stupid cookies.”, you said but with a smile on your face.
“Well at least now they are in oven and hopefully will not burn!”
“I should probably take a quick shower. Don’t be shy to take anything you want. Feel at home, Chan.”, you assured him as you went to the bathroom.
Chan then was left alone in your apartment. He sat down on your couch for a few minutes, thinking about what happened in the kitchen just now. He thought about how much he enjoyed your company. It was weird but he didn’t mind the feeling that come when he sees you.
He didn’t know why but he somehow felt drawn to your bedroom and you did say that he can feel at home. Curiosity got the best of him and he went into your bedroom, just to have a look. Because a bedroom says a lot about you as a person.
He entered the room and was greeted with pastel colors. Your room was clean but your desk was a mess. Must have been from work, Chan thought. But then, something caught his eye. On your desk, he found a folder with the name Kevin Bang on it. Chan took the folder and while going through it he found a lot of information on his father. But not only that, there were more scandals and bad publicity than anything positive. Chan didn’t know what to think of this.
He then turned around to see something red that caught his eye poking out of your closet. As he walked closer to it, he saw that it was a dress, with a mask hanging from the clothing hanger. Chan’s eyes widened as he connected the dots. The information on his father and then this dress?
Chan would recognize that dress anywhere. The dress that destroyed his father’s reputation. The dress the woman who danced with him wore. The dress that shouldn't be here. Chan started shaking from anger and disappointment. What the hell was he doing here? His heartbeat quickened and his palms were sweaty. He started shaking a little bit because of the feeling of frustration. The boy was trying to stay calm as he took deep breaths.
Chan didn’t hear you coming in with wet hair and some loose clothes, trying to dry your hair with a towel. But as soon as you saw him staring at the dress, you dropped the towel in shock.
He turned to you with an expression that was unreadable.
You started shaking in fear. “I can explain.”, you said, breathing shakily.
Chan just stared at you, waiting for an answer.
Shit.
♥.
Author’s Note: Chapter 4 is here and Chan finally found out. What do you think his reaction will be? I hope you like it!
#bang chan#bang chan x reader#bang chan x you#chan#chan x reader#chan x y/n#chan x you#chris bang x reader#chris bang x you#chris x you#chris bang#chris x reader#christopher bang#christopher x reader#Christopher Bang x you#skz#Stray Kids#Stray Kids x Reader#Stray Kids x Y/N#minho#seungmin#felix#changbin#jeongin#hyunjin#jisung#han#lee know#minho x reader#lee know x reader
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RWBY Character Analysis: Pietro and Penny Polendina
Up until now I’ve been keeping quiet about my opinions on the newest volume, in no small part because my personal life has been one absurd setback after another, and I haven’t had the energy to engage in fandom meta. If you do want to know what my current opinion of RWBY is, go over to @itsclydebitches blog, search through her #rwby-recaps tag, and read every single one. At this point, her metas are basically an itemized list of all my grievances with the show. I highly recommend you check ’em out.
Or, if you don’t feel like reading several hours’ worth of recaps, then go find a sheet of paper, give yourself a papercut, and then squeeze a lemon into it. That should give you an accurate impression of my feelings.
In truth, I have a lot to say about the show, particularly how I think CRWBY has mishandled the plot, characters, tone, and intended message of their series. And while I enjoy dissecting RWBY with what amounts to mad scientist levels of glee, I think plenty of other folks have already discussed V7′s and V8′s various issues in greater depth and with far more eloquence. Any contribution I could theoretically make at this point would be somewhat redundant.
That being said, I’d like to talk about something that’s been bothering me for a while, which (to my knowledge) no one else in the fandom has brought up. (And feel free to correct me if I’m wrong.)
Today’s topic of concern is Pietro Polendina, and his relationship with Penny.
And because I’m absolutely certain this post is going to be controversial and summon anonymous armchair critics to fill my inbox with sweary claptrap, I may as well just come out and say it:
Pietro Polendina, as he’s currently portrayed in the show, is an inherently abusive parental figure.
Let me take a second to clarify that I don’t think it was RWBY’s intention to portray Pietro that way. Much like other aspects of the show, a lot of nuance is often lost when discussing the difference between intention versus implementation, or telling versus showing. It’s what happens when a writer tries to characterize a person one way, but in execution portrays them in an entirely different light. Compounding this problem is what feels like a series of rather myopic writing decisions that started as early as Volume 2, concerning Penny’s sense of agency, and how the canon would bear out the implications of an autonomous being grappling with her identity. It’s infuriating that the show has spent seven seasons staunchly refusing to ask any sort of ethical questions surrounding her existence, only to then—with minimal setup—give us Pietro’s “heartfelt” emotional breakdown when he has to choose between “saving” Penny or “sacrificing” her for the greater good.
Yeah, no thanks.
If we want to talk about why this moment read as hollow and insincere, we need to first make sure everyone’s on the same page.
Spoilers for V8.E5 - “Amity.” Let’s not waste any time.
In light of the newest episode and its—shall we say—questionable implications, I figured now was the best time to bring it up while the thoughts were still fresh in my mind. (Because nothing generates momentum quite like frothing-at-the-mouth rage.)
The first time we’re told anything about Pietro, it comes from an exchange between Penny and Ruby. From V2.E2 - “A Minor Hiccup.”
Penny: I've never been to another kingdom before. My father asked me not to venture out too far, but... You have to understand, my father loves me very much. He just worries a lot.
Ruby: Believe me, I know the feeling. But why not let us know you were okay?
Penny: I…was asked not to talk to you. Or Weiss. Or Blake. Or Yang. Anybody, really.
Ruby: Was your dad that upset?
Penny: No, it wasn’t my father.
The scene immediately diverts our attention to a public unveiling of the AK-200. A hologram of James Ironwood is presenting this newest model of Atlesian Knight to a crowd of enthusiastic spectators, along with the Atlesian Paladin, a piloted mech. During the demonstration, James informs his audience that Atlas’ military created them with the intent of removing people from the battlefield and mitigating casualties (presumably against Grimm).
Penny is quickly spotted by several soldiers, and flees. Ruby follows, and in the process the two are nearly hit by a truck. Penny’s display of strength draws a crowd and prompts her to retreat into an alley, where Ruby learns that Penny isn’t “a real girl.”
This scene continues in the next episode, “Painting the Town…”
Penny: Most girls are born, but I was made. I’m the world’s first synthetic person capable of generating an Aura. [Averts her gaze.] I’m not real…
After Ruby assures her that no, you don’t have to be organic in order to have personhood, Penny proceeds to hug her with slightly more force than necessary.
Ruby: [Muffled noise of pain.] I can see why your father would want to protect such a delicate flower!
Penny: [Releases Ruby.] Oh, he’s very sweet! My father’s the one that built me! I’m sure you would love him.
Ruby: Wow. He built you all by himself?
Penny: Well, almost! He had some help from Mr. Ironwood.
Ruby: The general? Wait, is that why those soldiers were after you?
Penny: They like to protect me, too!
Ruby: They don't think you can protect yourself?
Penny: They're not sure if I'm ready yet. One day, it will be my job to save the world, but I still have a lot left to learn. That's why my father let me come to the Vytal Festival. I want to see what it's like in the rest of the world, and test myself in the Tournament.
Their conversation is interrupted by the sound of the approaching soldiers from earlier. Despite Ruby’s protests, Penny proceeds to yeet her into the nearby dumpster, all while reassuring her that it’s to keep Ruby out of trouble, not her. When the soldiers arrive, they ask her if she’s okay, then proceed to lightly scold her for causing a scene. Penny’s told that her father “isn’t going to be happy about this,” and is then politely asked (not ordered; asked) to let them escort her back.
Let’s take a second to break down these events.
When these two episodes first aired, the wording and visuals (“No, it wasn’t my father,” followed by the cutaway to James unveiling the automatons) implied that James was the one forbidding her from interacting with other people. It’s supposed to make you think that James is being restrictive and harsh, while Pietro is meant as a foil—the sweet, but cautious father figure. But here’s the thing: both of these depictions are inaccurate, and frankly, Penny’s the one at fault here. Penny blew her cover within minutes of interacting with Ruby—a scenario that Penny was responsible for because she was sneaking off without permission. Penny is a classified, top-secret military project, as made clear by the fact that she begs Ruby to not say anything to anyone. Penny is in full acknowledgement that her existence, if made public, could cause massive issues for her (something that she’s clearly experienced before, if her line, “You’re taking this extraordinarily well,” is anything to go by).
But here’s the thing—keeping Penny on a short leash wasn’t a unilateral decision made by James. That was Pietro’s choice as well. “My father asked me not to venture out too far,” “Your father isn’t going to be happy about this”—as much as this scene is desperately trying to put the onus on James for Penny’s truant behavior, Pietro canonically shares that blame. And Penny (to some extent) is in recognition of the fact that she did something wrong.
Back in Volumes 1 – 3, before the series butchered James’ characterization, these moments were meant as pretty clever examples of foreshadowing and subverting the controlling-military-general trope. This scene is meant to illustrate that yes, Penny is craving social interaction outside of military personnel as a consequence of being hidden, but that hiding her is also a necessity. It’s a complicated situation with no easy answer, but it’s also something of a necessary evil (as Penny’s close call with the truck and her disclosing that intel to Ruby are anything to go by).
Let’s skip ahead to Volume 7, shortly after Watts tampered with the drone footage and framed her for several deaths. In V7.E7 - “Worst Case Scenario,” a newscaster informs us that people in Atlas and Mantle want Penny to be deactivated, despite James’ insistence that the footage was doctored and Penny didn’t go on a killing spree. The public’s unfavorable opinion of Penny—a sentiment that Jacques of all people embodies when he brings it up in V7.E8—reinforces V2’s assessment of why keeping her secret was necessary. Not only is her existence controversial because Aura research is still taboo, but people are afraid that a mechanical person with military-grade hardware could be hacked and weaponized against them. (Something which Volume 8 actually validates when James has Watts take control of her in the most recent episode.)
But I digress.
We’re taken to Pietro’s lab, where Penny is hooked up to some sort of recharge/docking station. Ruby, Weiss, and Maria look on in concern while the machine is uploading the visual data from her systems. There’s one part of their conversation I want to focus on in particular:
Pietro: When the general first challenged us to find the next breakthrough in defense technology, most of my colleagues pursued more obvious choices. I was one of the few who believed in looking inward for inspiration.
Ruby: You wanted a protector with a soul.
Pietro: I did. And when General Ironwood saw her, he did too. Much to my surprise, the Penny Project was chosen over all the other proposals.
Allow me to break down their conversation so we can fully appreciate what he’s actually saying.
The Penny Project was picked as the candidate for the next breakthrough in defense technology.
Pietro wanted a protector with a SOUL.
In RWBY, Aura and souls are one of the defining characteristics of personhood. Personhood is central to Penny’s identity and internal conflict (particularly when we consider that she’s based on Pinocchio). That’s why Penny accepts Ruby’s reassurances that she’s a real person. That’s why she wants to have emotional connections with others.
What makes that revelation disturbing is when you realize that Pietro knowingly created a child soldier.
Look, there’s no getting around this. Pietro fully admits that he wanted to create a person—a human being—a fucking child—as a "defense technology” to throw at the Grimm (and by extension, Salem). Everything, from the language he uses, to the mere fact that he entered Penny in the Vytal Tournament as a proving ground where she could “test [her]self,” tells us that he either didn’t consider or didn’t care about the implications behind his proposal.
When you break it all down, this is what we end up with:
“Hey, I have an idea: Why don’t we make a person, cram as many weapons as we can fit into that person, and then inform her every day for the rest of her life that she was built for the sole purpose of fighting monsters, just so we don’t have to risk the lives of others. Let’s then take away anything remotely resembling autonomy, minimize her interactions with people, and basically indoctrinate her into thinking that this is something she wants for herself. Oh, and in case she starts to raise objections, remind her that I donated part of my soul to her. If we make her feel guilty about this generous sacrifice I made so she could have the privilege of existing, she won’t question our motives. Next, let’s give her a taste of freedom by having her fight in a gladiatorial blood sport so that we can prove our child soldier is an effective killer. And then, after she’s brutally murdered on international television, we can rebuild her and assign her to protecting an entire city that’s inherently prejudiced against her, all while I brood in my lab about how sad I am.”
Holy fuck. Watts might be a morally bankrupt asshole, but at least his proposal didn’t hinge on manufacturing state-of-the-art living weapons. They should have just gone with his idea.
(Which, hilariously enough, they did. Watts is the inventor of the Paladins—Paladins which, I’ll remind you, were invented so the army could remove people from the battlefield. You know, people. Kind of like what Penny is.)
Do you see why this entire scene might have pissed me off? Even if the show didn’t intend for any of this to be the case, when you think critically about the circumstances there’s no denying the tacit implications.
To reiterate, V8.E5 is the episode where Pietro says, and I quote:
“I don’t care about the big picture! I care about my daughter! I lost you before. Are you asking me to go through that again? No. I want the chance to watch you live your life.”
Oh, yeah? And what life is that? The one where she’s supposed to kill Grimm and literally nothing else? You do realize that she died specifically because you made her for the purpose of fighting, right?
No one, literally no one, was holding a gun to Pietro’s head and telling him that he had to build a living weapon. That was his idea. He chose to do that.
Remember when Cinder said, “I don’t serve anyone! And you wouldn’t either, if you weren’t built that way.” She…basically has a point. Penny has never been given the option to explore the world in a capacity where she wasn’t charged with defending it by her father. We know she doesn’t have many friends, courtesy of Ironwood dissuading her against it in V7. But I’m left with the troubling realization that the show (and the fandom), in their crusade to vilify James, are ignoring the fact that Pietro is also complicit in this behavior by virtue of being her creator. If we condemn the man that prevents Penny from having relationships, then what will we do to the man who forced her into that existence in the first place?
Being her “father” has given him a free pass to overlook the ethics of having a child who was created with a pre-planned purpose. How the hell did the show intend for Pietro to reconcile “I want you to live your life” with “I created you so you’d spend your life defending the world”? It viscerally reminds me of the sort of narcissistic parents who have kids because they want to pass on the family name, or continue their bloodline, or have live-in caregivers when they get older, only on a larger and much more horrific scale. And that’s fucked up.
Now, I’m not saying I’m against having a conflict like this in the show. In fact, I’d love to have a character who has to grapple with her own humanity while questioning the environment she grew up in. Penny is a character who is extremely fascinating because of all the potential she represents—a young woman who through a chance encounter befriends a group of strangers, and over time, is exposed to freedoms and friendships she was previously denied. Slowly, she begins to unlearn the mindset she was indoctrinated with, and starts to petition for agency and autonomy. Pietro is forced to confront the fact that what he did was traumatic and cruel, and that his love for her doesn’t erase the harm he unintentionally subjected her to, nor does it change the fact that he knowingly burdened a person with a responsibility she never consented to. There’s a wealth of character growth and narrative payoff buried here, but like most things in RWBY, it was either underdeveloped or not thought through all the way.
The wholesome father-daughter relationship the show wants Pietro and Penny to have is fundamentally contradicted by the nature of her existence, and the fact that no one (besides the villains) calls attention to it. I’d love for them to have that sort of dynamic, but the show had to do more to earn it. Instead, it’ll forever be another item on RWBY’s ever-growing list of disappointments—
Because Pietro’s remorse is more artificial than Penny could ever hope to be.
#rwby#rwby volume 8#rwby spoilers#rwby thought dump#my posts#i speak#rwby meta#pietro polendina#penny polendina#james ironwood#arthur watts#ruby rose#rwby worldbuilding#rwde
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