#and if he finds out you’re not using it/pressuring families to use it you’ll catch shit | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

isaadore · 3 months ago

Text

CLOSE TO THE EDGE MAX VERSTAPPEN

paring max verstappen x childhood friend!reader

SUMMARY you and max have been inseparable since you were kids. you both promised that no matter what happens, you’ll always be there for each other. but when the pressures of max’s racing career and a growing distance between you strain the friendship, you’re both left to find what you really mean to each other. word count 1.9k words

warnings self-criticism, themes of anxiety and stress, angst, jos verstappen

note requested :)

MAIN MASTERLIST MV1 MASTERLIST

THERE WAS SOMETHING nostalgic about the sound of engines revving; how it pulled you back to your childhood, back when life was simple, and the only thing that mattered was Max’s kart circling the track. You sat on the pit wall, the roar of engines around you as familiar as the heartbeat you couldn’t seem to steady.

The air smelled of gasoline and rubber, the sun already hot against your skin, but you were used to it. You had spent too many days like this to mind. From the time you were little, following Max around the karting circuits, this had been home. But it was different now.

Max was different now.

You watched as he climbed out of the Red Bull car, peeling off his helmet to reveal damp, sweaty hair, and an unreadable expression to anyone who hadn’t known him as long as you had. His features were sharper now; chiselled with the kind of confidence that came with years of pushing himself to the limit, of knowing he was the best. But behind his calm exterior, you could see it: the frustration, the constant war with himself to be perfect.

He glanced in your direction briefly, but you knew he wasn’t really seeing you. Not anymore.

It hadn’t always been like this. There was a time when you were the first person he’d come to after every race, win or lose. You’d sit together on the track, the world muted around you, just two kids who didn’t care about the future. But that felt like a lifetime ago now, and you weren’t sure when it changed when the distance between you grew so wide, you didn’t know how to cross it.

You weren’t even sure if he wanted you to.

20 YEARS AGO

“Faster, Max! You’re too slow!” you teased, legs dangling over the barrier as you watched him zoom around the small karting track your families had brought you to for the weekend.

Even at seven years old, Max was serious about racing, his brow furrowed in concentration as he sped past you in his kart. His father, Jos, stood nearby, arms crossed, watching Max’s every move like a hawk.

“I’ll show you slow,” Max shouted back, grinning as he floored the pedal, the little kart shooting forward with a speed that made your heart skip a beat.

You laughed, running to the edge of the barrier to watch him cross the finish line, his face flushed with excitement when he pulled off his helmet.

“Did you see that? I was way faster than last time!” Max exclaimed, running over to you, eyes bright with triumph.

You nodded enthusiastically, always his biggest supporter, even when you didn’t understand the technical details of racing. “Yeah, but you still couldn’t catch me on foot,” you said with a teasing grin, before darting off towards the grassy area behind the track.

“Hey!” Max shouted, chasing after you, both of you laughing until you collapsed in a heap, breathless and grinning under the summer sun. It had always been like this, simple, easy. Max was your best friend, the one constant in your life that you never had to question.

PRESENT DAY

That memory flashed through your mind as you watched Max now, his shoulders tight with tension as he talked to his engineer. You wondered when the last time was that he laughed like that, really laughed, not the polite chuckle he gave to fans or media. You wondered if he’d forgotten how.

The race debrief dragged on, and you shifted on the bench, your eyes flicking towards your phone. You weren’t there for the media, or the race engineers. You were there for Max, but lately, it had started to feel like you were just another fixture in the background of his life, like you had become part of the scenery instead of someone he needed.

You were still deep in thought when you heard his voice, closer now. “Hey,” Max said, but it lacked the warmth it used to have.

You looked up, forcing a smile. “Hey. How was the car?”

“It was fine.” His tone was clipped, distracted, as if his mind was already miles away, focused on the next race, the next challenge.

You nodded, unsure of what else to say. “You’ve got the weekend off after this, right?” you asked, hoping to reignite the friendship, the ease that used to come so naturally between you.

“Yeah,” Max replied, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ve got a couple of media things, but I’ll be free for the most part.”

There was a pause, a beat too long, and you wondered if he was going to ask you to do something, like he used to. Back when weekends off meant go-karting for fun, or late-night drives where you’d talk about anything but racing.

But the invitation didn’t come.

“Good luck with the media stuff,” you said finally, the words falling flat between you.

Max nodded absently, already turning away to speak to someone else, and you were left with the bitter taste of something unspoken in your mouth. The silence between you was louder than the roar of the engines, and you wondered how long you could keep pretending that things hadn’t changed.

12 YEARS AGO

It was the first time you had ever seen Max cry.

You were both fifteen, standing outside the karting track after he had lost a crucial race. It wasn’t even a huge competition, but for Max, every race was an important one. He hated losing more than anything, and you could see the way it ate at him, the disappointment in his eyes when he realized he wasn’t invincible.

“You were still amazing,” you had said, trying to comfort him, but Max just shook his head, his jaw clenched tight.

“No, I wasn’t,” he muttered, kicking at the gravel with his shoe. “I should’ve been faster. I should’ve won.”

You didn’t know what to say, so you just stood there, waiting, offering your silent support the way you always did.

It was only when the others had left, when it was just the two of you in the fading evening light, that Max finally let the walls crack. His fists clenched at his sides, and he looked at you with those piercing blue eyes, tears threatening to spill over.

“I can’t keep losing,” he whispered, his voice breaking in a way that made your heart ache. “I have to be the best.”

You hadn’t hesitated. You reached for him, pulling him into a tight hug, your arms wrapping around his tense frame. Max resisted for a moment, stiff in your embrace, but then he crumbled, burying his face in your shoulder as the tears came.

“I’m here, Max,” you had whispered into his hair, holding him as tightly as you could. “I’ll always be here.”

PRESENT DAY

You wondered if he even remembered what it felt like to rely on you for support. Now, it felt like you were the one watching from the sidelines while Max barrelled through life at breakneck speed, focused on nothing but the finish line.

The days when he used to confide in you, to trust you with his fears, seemed so far away now.

Later that evening, you sat in your hotel room, staring at the ceiling, the weight of your unspoken thoughts pressing down on you. You couldn’t keep doing this, watching Max drift further and further away, pretending like it didn’t hurt.

The sound of your phone buzzing broke the silence, and you glanced at the screen. It was a message from Max.

Are you free to talk?

You hesitated for a moment, your heart racing in your chest. It had been a while since he had asked to talk, really talk. You quickly typed back a reply, and a few minutes later, your phone rang.

“Hey,” Max’s voice came through the line, quieter now, almost hesitant. “I just… I don’t know why I called.”

You felt a flicker of hope in your chest. “You don’t need a reason,” you said softly.

There was a long pause, and when Max spoke again, his voice was lower, more vulnerable. “Do you ever feel like… we’re not the same anymore?”

Your breath caught in your throat at his words, the very thing you had been afraid to admit to yourself.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “I do.”

There was another silence, and for a moment, you were both suspended in it, the weight of years of unsaid words hanging between you.

“I miss how things used to be,” Max admitted, and it was like the walls he had built up over the years were starting to crack, just like they did that day when you were fifteen.

“So do I,” you confessed, your voice barely audible.

“I don’t want to lose you,” Max said, and you could hear the fear in his voice now, the same fear he had when he was fifteen, terrified of not being good enough.

“You won’t,” you promised, the words coming out before you could stop them. “I’m still here, Max. I’ve always been here.”

Max let out a shaky breath, and for the first time in a long while, you felt like you were on the same page again, like the distance between you wasn’t so insurmountable after all.

The next few days passed in a blur of media obligations and sponsor events, but there was a shift in the air between you and Max. It was subtle, little things, like the way he sought you out in the crowd, the way he lingered after conversations as if he was afraid of letting you slip away again.

One evening, after a particularly gruelling day, you found yourselves sitting on the balcony of Max’s hotel room, watching the city lights flicker in the distance.

“Remember that time we raced each other on foot after your kart race?” you asked, a smile tugging at your lips.

Max chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “Yeah, and you tripped and scraped your knee. You wouldn’t stop crying until I gave you my ice cream.”

You laughed, the memory of it warming you in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time. “I’d still take your ice cream, by the way.”

Max grinned, but then his expression softened, and he looked at you in that way he used to when you were kids; like you were the only person in the world who truly knew him.

“I’m sorry,” he said suddenly, his voice low.

You blinked, surprised by the sudden shift in tone. “For what?”

“For… everything,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “For letting things get so messed up between us. I didn’t mean to push you away. I just—”

“Max,” you interrupted gently, reaching over for his hand. “You didn’t push me away. I just… I didn’t know how to help you anymore.”

Max squeezed your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “You’ve always helped me, even when I didn’t realize it.”

You held his gaze, the weight of his words settling over you like a warm blanket. There was so much you both still needed to say, but for the first time in a long while, you felt like you were finally on the right track.

“Do you think we can fix this?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Max looked at you, his blue eyes filled with something you hadn’t seen in years; hope. “Yeah,” he said softly. “I do.”

And for the first time in a while, you believed him.

‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ MAIN MASTERLIST ✷ MV1 MASTERLIST

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #max verstappen x you #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen angst #max verstappen smau #f1 x you #f1 fic #f1 #formula 1 #✷ isaadore

934 notes · View notes

shybluebirdninja · 3 months ago

Text

FADING BONDS: PART 2

Summary: Two broken souls—Logan, an aging hero, and a young woman overlooked by her own family—find solace in each other’s silent company, forming an unexpected connection that challenges their emotional walls.

Pairing : UberDriver!Logan x Fem!Reader

Genre : Angst, Fluff

It’s funny how silence can start to feel like company. You’ve been riding with Logan more often now, enough that you know his truck better than you’d like to admit.

The way the passenger seat squeaks if you shift just a little too much, the faint smell of old cigarettes and something like motor oil, and how the heater barely works, so you’ve taken to bringing a jacket even if the night’s warm.

He’s still as closed off as ever, his gruff demeanor acting like a shield against any real conversation. But there’s something about the way he drives, something about the heavy weight in the air between you, that feels... familiar.

Like the two of you are on the same wavelength. No questions, no forced smiles, no bullshit. It’s a strange, fragile kind of comfort.

One night, after your shift, you climb into his truck. He glances at you, eyes flicking up and down like he’s just making sure you’re still breathing. Not that he’d ever admit he cares.

“Busy night?” you ask, more out of habit than anything else.

“Same shit, different day,” he mutters, his voice low and gravelly. His hands grip the steering wheel, knuckles taut, like maybe if he squeezes hard enough, he can keep the world from crumbling around him. “Kids puking in the back, people yellin’ at me ‘cause I’m ‘too slow.’ You’d think drivin’ was easy for these assholes.”

You snort, shaking your head. “Sounds like a blast.”

“Yeah, real fuckin’ dream,” he grumbles.

And that’s it. That’s all you need to say. There’s a comfort in the way Logan doesn’t push, doesn’t prod. Everyone else—your parents, your sister, hell, even the occasional friend—they always want to know more.

They want updates on your life, your career (or lack of one), your plans for the future. They don’t get it. They don’t understand that sometimes, it’s enough just to exist.

With Logan, there’s no pressure to be something you’re not. No expectations. Just two people, broken in different ways, sharing space without needing to fill it with bullshit.

The drives continue. Night after night. Sometimes you’ll trade a few words, sometimes not. Logan’s grumbles are often the only sound breaking the silence, usually about how “kids these days don’t know shit” or how “people can’t drive for crap.” You’d laugh if it weren’t so damn true.

But every once in a while, he’ll let slip something from his past. It’s always brief, like he’s catching himself before he says too much.

“Used to know a guy,” he mutters one night. “Real pain in the ass... but smart. Smartest guy I ever met. Could’ve done a lot more if the world hadn’t chewed him up and spat him out.”

You don’t ask who. You don’t need to. You’ve heard enough by now to piece together fragments of the puzzle. You know about the loss, the pain, the countless people he’s watched die, one way or another.

There’s a heaviness in his voice that tells you this guy, whoever he was, meant a hell of a lot more to Logan than he’ll ever admit.

The nights bleed together. You start finding reasons to see him more. Sometimes you’ll tell yourself you’re just tired of the bus, or that you’d rather ride with someone who doesn’t force small talk. But deep down, you know it’s more than that.

There’s something about Logan—something that pulls at you, like you’re both just two lost souls floating through the same fucked-up world.

One evening, you catch him parked outside the diner after your shift, though you haven’t called for a ride yet. He’s leaning against his truck, cigarette hanging from his lips, staring off into the distance like he’s a million miles away.

“You waitin’ for someone?” you ask, stepping out onto the curb.

Logan glances at you, doesn’t bother with a smile or any of the niceties people usually fake. “Nope.”

“Didn’t think so,” you murmur, pulling your jacket tighter around you. The air’s cool tonight, biting at your skin. “Mind if I bum one of those?” You nod towards the cigarette between his fingers.

He grunts but hands you one, along with a beat-up lighter. “You smoke?”

“Not really.” You light the cigarette anyway, taking a drag and coughing a little as the smoke burns your throat. “Guess there’s a first time for everything.”

Logan chuckles, low and almost imperceptible. “Figured.”

You both stand there in the quiet, leaning against his truck, watching the night stretch out before you like some endless void. The city lights blink in the distance, casting a faint glow over everything.

For a moment, you wonder if this is what life’s supposed to be—just one long stretch of nothingness, broken up by small moments that don’t really mean anything.

“Why do you keep drivin’?” you ask suddenly, breaking the silence.

Logan doesn’t answer right away. He takes a long drag of his cigarette, eyes focused on something far beyond the here and now. When he finally speaks, his voice is softer, almost resigned. “Ain’t much else I’m good for these days.”

You don’t know why, but his words hit harder than you expected. You’d always seen him as this untouchable force—someone who’s been through hell and came out the other side, bruised but still standing. To hear him say he’s got nothing left... it stirs something inside you. Something painful.

“Feels like we’re both just tryin’ to survive, huh?” you say quietly, staring at the ground.

Logan glances at you, and for a split second, you swear you see something flicker in his eyes. Something vulnerable. But it’s gone as quickly as it came.

He doesn’t respond, just takes another drag of his cigarette and tosses the butt to the ground, crushing it under his boot.

“Yeah,” he mutters, voice rough. “Something like that.” You stand there a little longer, both of you too broken, too tired to say anything else. There’s nothing to be said. Not really.

101 notes · View notes

starhvney · 11 months ago

Text

𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐅𝐋𝐔𝐅𝐅 𝐀𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐓

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: mystreet laurance x fem!reader

𝐂𝐖: none!

𝐀/𝐍: i remember being so upset when he stopped showing up in videos

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍, how does he show his affection?

he’s the type to show his love for you through actions and not words. he’s always listening even if you think he isn’t, noting down the things you like and dislike. he’s also big on acts of service, both giving and receiving. he’ll put his jacket on you if he notices you shiver, hand you a water if he notices you haven’t been drinking any. doesn’t mind if you don’t return it as much, because he also loves the physical touch and flirting banter.

𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐘, what does he find the most beautiful about you?

your eyes. even if you’re not looking at him, he’s looking at your eyes. he watches how they light up when you’re excited, or how they dilate when you’re focused on something. he uses them to gauge how you’re feeling too, looking into them when he thinks you might be upset about something.

𝐂𝐔𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄𝐒, how cuddly is he? how does he cuddle with you?

he’s not super clingy, but he can be. he’s sort of like a cat. he likes when you two have your own space, but if he wants to cuddle with you, he will literally crawl on top of you. likes to rest his head on your chest and listen to your heartbeat, or lay you on top of him.

𝐃𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂, what is domestic life like with him?

he’s husband material, to be honest. he likes to keep his space pretty clean, has a generally good sense of aesthetics, and is a super good cook. one day out every week or two when you both have free time is spent working together to split up chores evenly and then have a really nice home cooked meal together. he also likes to spend time in the same room together even if you’re doing different things.

𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍, how vulnerable with his emotions is he with you?

he’s really good about letting you know if he’s feeling positive and happy, but sometimes he’ll bottle up his emotions until he gets riled up and lets it out. he never takes it out directly on you, and always feels bad afterward. you have to sometimes pry how he’s feeling out of him, but he definitely doesn’t expect you to do it every time and baby him. he works on it and eventually gets more comfortable at opening up to you the more your relationship grows.

𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘, does he want a family with you in the future?

he definitely wants to spend time together as a couple and make sure you two are stable and in the right headspace to have a kid. he wants kids of his own for sure, i think to heal a part of him since he was adopted. if you don’t want kids though, he won’t pressure you. at the very least he wants to adopt one day.

𝐆𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐒, is he a gift giver? what kind of gifts does he give to you?

he’s the type to give you flowers on special dates, but not just valentine’s day. if it’s your birthday, anniversary, you achieved something you’re proud of, or you two just decided to go on a fancy date, he’s getting you flowers. he also pays attention to your style, and if he sees a piece of jewelry or clothing that he thinks you’ll like

𝐇𝐔𝐆𝐒, what is hugging him like?

he’s either super playful or super loving depending on the mood. sometimes he’ll grab your hand and spin you around before wrapping you in his arms, or he’ll hug you tightly to him and dip you down while giggling the whole time. if it’s a hug to comfort you or him he’ll hold you tightly and either bury his head into your neck or tuck yours under his chin.

𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒, what is he insecure about in your relationship?

since he is so observant, he can catch himself sometimes overanalyzing or misreading small details and feeling like you’re upset with him or are losing interest. at first, he wouldn’t tell you, but once you caught on and had a good heart-to-heart with him, he gets better at talking himself out of feeling that way.

𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐘, how jealous does he get?

when he was younger, he got jealous and even possessive much easier, but as he got older, mellowed out, and matured he got a better reign on it. if he ever gets jealous, he usually realizes he’s reading too much into it and being a little silly. he never takes it out on you or blames you like he would’ve as a stupid teenage boy, but he might be a little obvious about it. he’ll get super clingy to you if he’s feeling jealous or upset and will whisk you away to cuddle or make out.

𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆, what is kissing him like?

his kisses are slow and kind of teasing for the most part. sometimes he’ll pull away like he was done before tugging you back for more. if you two had an argument or he’s upset about something, he’ll get a lot more passionate.

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄, who said “i love you” first?

it was him. he was surprisingly kind of nervous and shy about it the first time? he stuttered a few times and took a little to get to the point but he eventually told you and was super sweet about it. he gave you flowers and didn’t pressure you into saying it back, he just really wanted to let you know.

𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐓, who gets shy or weak in the knees more?

his goal is to constantly fluster you and make you shy, so most of the time, it’s gonna be you. whispered sweet nothings, quick kisses, and fleeting touches are all part of the package. sometimes, though, you can say or do something that completely catches him off guard. his cheeks will go completely red as he tries to come up with a comeback to no avail.

𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄, does he use any pet names for you?

uses a few different ones, but really likes to add “my” in front of it. he uses it in front of your name mostly, a little grin on his face every time he says it. he likes using cutie, but sometimes he’ll call you honey bunchkins or schnookims in a stupid sweet tone just because he thinks your cringing face is funny.

𝐎𝐁𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐋𝐄𝐒, what are some issues you have in your relationship? how does he handle it?

at the beginning, you both struggled with jealousy and keeping issues to yourselves until it overflowed into an argument. after that, he really makes it a point to communicate with you more about how he’s feeling

𝐏𝐃𝐀, how does he express his love in public?

surprisingly not super big on pda, just because he likes to keep that side of the two of you special and between the two of you. he’ll stay close enough to you that people know you’re dating, though. also isn’t afraid of holding or kissing your hands, or guiding you with a hand to your lower back.

𝐐𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄, how do you spend your time together?

it’s very domestic. you two spend time either relaxing at home and watching a movie or just enjoying each other’s presence. if you’re crafty he likes to do little art projects with you, too. if you both feel like getting out, you go on cute dinner or cafe dates, or go to a theater, or find a new cool niche hang out spot together.

𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆, what are his plans for the future?

he knows you’re the one. he had a streak when he was younger of being flirtatious, but if he is dating you, it means he fully intends to marry you some time in the future. he surprisingly isn’t one to rush it though. he wants to take it slow and really enjoy getting to know everything about each other before he pops the question. when he does, he’s a really great husband.

𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐒, how open is he? does he keep anything from you?

he’ll keep a few things to himself, but nothing that’s super important. like, he’s pretty big on surprises and will hide little things from you that won’t spoil it.

𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄, how long did it take for you two to get together?

it was kind of quick, but a healthy amount. it certainly wasn’t rushed, but as soon as he realized he liked you he spent a lot of time to make sure you were comfortable and liked him back, and confessed.

𝐔𝐏𝐒𝐄𝐓, what makes him upset?

he can get a little rolled up over a lot of different things, but one thing he gets genuinely upset over is when he feels like you’re being disrespected in some way. whether it’s you talking down on yourself or some creep making you uncomfortable, he’s gonna have some words to say. (of course, the words spoken to you will be much more gentle)

𝐕𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐓𝐘, does he do anything to spice up your relationship?

he likes to spice it up (literally) by trying new recipes and foods together. if he’s not attempting something new for you to try at home, then sometimes he’ll even drive you on a trip just to try a specific restaurant. sometimes it’ll even be far enough that he’ll plan other activities around it and make it a vacation.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒, how good is he at communicating?

he struggles sometimes with talking about really personal negative emotions, but he’s super obvious with his tells when he’s upset. usually, if you ask him, he cracks and tells you right away. he just feels a bit awkward saying anything out of the blue, so he’ll wait for you to bring it up. he gets better at opening up after a few good talks with you.

𝐗𝐓𝐑𝐀, something random

he has a camera album full of pictures of you, both ones you were aware and not aware that he took. not only does it have you in it though, but pictures of things you said you liked or screenshots of things you wanted. if you also were to snoop around some of his things, you’d find a little notebook of little doodles and notes about you.

𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆, what are they like when you’re gone?

he’s super dramatic when you have to leave for a long time, but he can function without you. he’s someone who thinks a healthy amount of space is important. of course, he wants to be around you all the time, that’s a given, but he can still function. if it’s longer than a week though… he might not as easygoing about it. he’s part of the sassy man apocalypse, so expect a lot of sass and sarcasm if you don’t jump into his arms when you see each other again.

𝐙𝐙𝐙..., how do you two sleep? when you’re apart?

it’s the same way that you two cuddle. one of you is fully or halfway lying on the other. however, throughout the night, whether it’s him or you that gets sweaty or hot (it’s usually him), you two end up back on your own sides of the bed. when you’re apart he’s definitely not too happy about it, but he manages to sleep okay. he’ll complain and tease you saying he had the worst sleep of his life though, just to be dramatic.

©starhvney, 2024. please do not steal or repost my works as your own.

#aphmau mystreet #aphmau #mystreet x reader #x reader #mystreet #laurance zvhal #aphmau laurance #laurance zvhal x reader #mystreet laurance #laurance x reader

193 notes · View notes

ramblingthoughtsofayoungadult · 1 year ago

Text

Unpredictable, Part 8-Limoreau x black!fem!reader fic

A/N: This took me way too long to write but as per usual, please let me know what you think and if you want more.

Warnings: angst, negative family dynamics, eating issues, body issues, and swearing.

Word Count: 7.8k

Series Masterlist

Taglist: @badbishsblog, @gardenof-venus, @morelovemorepeacemoretattoo-blog, @kasslucilfer, @darksoul100

Luke’s smile would have been more contagious if my thoughts were not so jumbled. Even though he was standing right across from me, my brain refused to believe he was real. Sure, he was wearing his favorite brown jacket over a t-shirt with jeans, and the sun (or whatever light) highlighted the natural glow around him. But, it was impossible.

“Impossible?” Luke asked. “That’s a little harsh.”

I hesitated and pressed the back of my hand to my forehead. “Sorry, this is a lot to take in.”

But I could see the scene in my mind’s eye: the Vought clean-up crew hosing the blood off the cobblestone in front of Lamplighter, the chunks of Luke they put in biohazard bags, and the smell---

I wretched at the thought of it and tried not to double over. Luke rushed over to me and softly grasped my shoulders.

“Hey, are you okay, Y/N?” he asked.

“No,” I muttered, shaking my head. “I…I saw you die, and this is a messed up joke if this is a joke. Or…”

Luke sighed. “You’re not dead if that’s what you’re thinking.”

He slowly backed away and I straightened up. Then, I launched myself at him and he caught me in a bear hug, laughing as he did. The scent of pine and clean aftershave almost made me cry.

“I miss you,” I mumbled into his chest.

“I miss you too,” he replied.

“I wish none of this happened. Why didn’t you tell any of us what was going on?” I demanded.

Luke paused. “I didn’t know how but, it sounds like you guys are figuring things out.”

I slowly pulled away from Luke and eyed him. “How can you tell?”

Luke pursed his lips. “I’m a manifestation of Cate’s subconsciousness. So, I see everything she sees.”

At his words, my eyes wandered around the forest. At first glance, it looked like any other forest with large trees and whistling wind. But on closer inspection, there were no woodland creatures, no sounds of birds, and the sky was more like a large gray cloud with red cracks that flashed every few seconds.

“I’m in Cate’s head?”

“You catch on quick but then again, you always do.”

I looked up at Luke. “So, if I’m in here, what’s happening to my body? And where’s everyone else?”

“You touched Cate when she was in extreme duress and she retreated to her mind but she brought you with her,” Luke explained. “Your body could be experiencing several things: seizure, vomiting, a comatose state, or hysteria.”

I groaned. “So, her going into shock put me in shock?”

“Pretty much.”

Another shock of lightning flashed across the “sky” but this time, it struck and destroyed a boulder that was about thirty feet away from Luke and me. The crash made me jump and Luke grabbed my arm.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“She’s kind of self-destructing. This hasn’t happened before and the only way to get out is if she wakes up,” Luke warned.

“So, I just need to find Cate and wake us both up,” I confirmed with a nod.

Lightning cracked through the sky and I jumped further into Luke’s grip.

“Basically but you don’t have a lot of time. If she doesn’t wake up, you’ll be stuck here forever.”

His words hung heavy over me and I could feel pressure weighing down on my shoulders. Somehow, I had to find Cate and snap her out of this state. Even though she’d been through a lot in the last few hours, she didn’t have to go this far.

I managed a smile. “Well, at least I have you here as a guide.”

Luke straightened up and puffed out his chest. “Of course. So, all you have to do---”

An instant later, a flash of lightning took him with it. It was difficult to tell whether knowing he was already dead made this second loss easier or harder. At the same time, it was nice to see Luke again, to talk to him, and touch him.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and tried to think. The best course of action would be to try to use my powers again and figure out the best route out. It definitely could not hurt after the last couple of tries.

I closed my eyes and focused on the best way to find Cate. However, it was like my powers didn’t exist at all. Before, it felt like they were just out of reach and this was definitely worse.

I opened my eyes as I felt my heartbeat pick up.

“Breathe, Y/N, breathe,” I hissed.

There was no time for my anxiety to spike. No one else was here except me and Cate and I was the only one who could find her.

After a few deep breaths, I opened my eyes and saw a large glossy oak door standing in front of me. The door looked familiar, and I couldn’t stop myself from grabbing its knob and pushing it open.

Seconds later, the bright light stunned me as I wandered into the space. When my eyes adjusted, I realized that I was in Dean Shetty’s office, complete with the expensive furniture and tapestry. Dean Shetty sat at her desk and stirred some sugar into her cup of tea. Cate was sitting across from her but she looked much more innocent, like she had when we first met.

She sipped from a pristine teacup and tapped her gloved fingers against the porcelain. She wore a white varsity sweater and ripped jeans.

“How is your first week as a sophomore?” Dean Shetty asked.

Cate nodded. “It’s going well so far. It feels different.”

“That’s only a natural feeling. You are much more in control of your powers and you are more experienced.”

“Thank you, Indira, it’s all because of your help.”

Dean Shetty shook her head and set her teacup down. “No, I only supported you; you did a lot of work. You are in the Top 20 for a reason.” She clasped her hands together. “Considering your progress, I think it’s time that I give you a new challenge.”

Cate raised her eyebrows. “Challenge?”

“Yes. I believe it is time for you to pass on what you learned and that you are ready now. There is a freshman that I would like you to meet. She is an incredibly bright, talented supe but, she needs some guidance to realize her full potential.” Dean Shetty grinned. “Considering how similar your abilities are, I believe you would be a fantastic match as her peer mentor.”

Cate paused. “Peer mentor?”

“Yes, a guide of sorts about how to succeed at Godolkin; who to befriend, what events to engage with, and how to gain more control over your abilities. These sorts of things tend to come better from someone who is of a similar age. What do you think?”

Even though it sounded like a question, it wasn’t. Dean Shetty’s tone was light but her eyes seemed to darken slightly and she straightened up a little as she eyed Cate. Cate stared at the teacup in her hand for a while, mulling things over.

“Okay, if you think it’s a good idea, then I’m open to it,” Cate declared.

Dean Shetty smiled. “Wonderful.”

“When do I meet her?”

A second later, someone knocked on the door behind me and Dean Shetty rose from her seat.

“Right now,” she commented.

As she walked towards me, Dean Shetty’s gaze never left the door. Even as she walked past me, she didn’t acknowledge me.

“They probably can’t see me,” I concluded.

Dean Shetty opened the door in one flawless motion but she stood in a way where I couldn’t see who was on the other side.

“Am I early?” a soft voice asked.

“No, you have impeccable timing. Come on in.”

Dean Shetty stepped aside and in walked a very anxious freshman version of myself. I watched as my freshman self fought to not grab at the black tennis skirt that swayed when she walked. The silk pressed curls bounced against the middle of her back as she approached Dean Shetty’s desk.

Cate stood when freshman me got close enough and Dean Shetty stood next to me.

“Cate, I’d like you to meet Y/N Y/L/N. She’s at the top of Brink’s first-year class and I am confident her star will continue to rise with proper guidance,” Dean Shetty announced.

Freshman me extended a hand towards Cate and Cate accepted it. “It’s nice to meet you. I saw your TikTok on supe psychology and it was really cool.”

Did I always ramble that much?

“I’m glad you liked it and it’s nice to meet you too,” Cate responded.

Dean Shetty gestured for Cate and freshman me to sit and she poured freshman me a cup of tea. “I was just telling Cate that I think she would be a wonderful peer mentor.”

“Peer mentor?” I echoed.

“Yes, someone your age who can help guide you through GOD U. I’m sure you’ve noticed how hectic it can be and not everyone survives here. Any freshman would kill to have personal time with a Top 20 supe but they do not all meet the standard to do so.”

Freshman me’s eyes widened with each word Dean Shetty spoke. “That’s amazing but, why me?”

“Like I said you are exceptional in your classes already and your skill set and Ms. Dunlap’s are similar and cause similar side effects. I believe she can help you navigate that as well as all things GOD U.”

Freshman me turned to Cate and smiled softly. “If you’re okay with it…”

“Of course. What is your ability, by the way?”

Freshman me rattled off my ability and Cate nodded, impressed. Then, Dean Shetty’s cell phone rang and she excused herself to take it. Cate leaned closer to Freshman Me.

“Don’t be so nervous. I already know that we’ll be friends,” she smiled.

Freshman me grinned in reply and I could feel the residual giddiness or that could have been me remembering this day. Cate was so impressive at that point that I was afraid that she wouldn’t want to be stuck with me or ignore me. But the anger that rose at the sight of Cate’s grin leapt out of me.

“If we were such good friends, why did you trap me in your head?” I hissed.

Cate turned to me. “I wasn’t lying, Y/N. I thought your powers were impressive and I could tell how powerful you were when we first met. I still want us to be friends.”

I stomped over to her. “Then, let’s get out of here. We can go together; we don’t have to stay here.”

But as quickly as she was there, she was gone. Suddenly, I was in the corner of the training gym and Luke, Andre, and Jordan were hanging out on the other end. Jordan was in their female form, wearing a baggy tank top and loose sweatpants, something they’d rarely wear outside of a memory.

I remembered this, this was the first time I ever trained with the Top Five. Cate had dragged me to the gym, insisting that I meet her friends and almost-boyfriend while also improving my combat skills. At the time, I thought she was crazy and that maybe it was a cruel prank but her genuine smile and encouragement were comforting.

Slowly, I approached the group, moving to stand near Jordan and listening to the conversation.

“So, who’s this girl Cate’s bringing?” Andre asked.

“Her mentee. Shetty set them up, but she sounds excited,” Luke answered.

“You don’t have a name?” Jordan asked.

Luke laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Cate mentioned it, but I can’t remember.”

Jordan rolled her eyes. “Well, this freshman better not waste my time.”

Luke playfully elbowed her. “Stop being so grumpy. If Shetty paired Cate with her, it probably means she’s impressive. At least give her a chance.”

Jordan scowled. “Why do you always have to be nice?”

Andre clapped his hands on Luke’s shoulders. “Because he’s Golden Boy.”

Watching past Jordan in all their surliness was jarring and I felt like a freshman again.

A second later, the training door opened, and I watched as Cate strutted in confidently with an arm wrapped around freshman me’s shoulders. I could feel the terror and anxiety wafting off freshman me as I watched her nervously eye the trio.

“Sorry, we’re late!” Cate called.

“It’s okay,” Luke insisted with a dazzling grin.

I giggled as Freshman me’s knees wobbled; it was funny how such a short time ago I couldn’t even make eye contact with Luke.

“Everyone, this is Y/N Y/L/N, my peer mentee. She’s doing amazing in her crim classes but needs a little help with combat,” Cate explained.

Freshman me did a small wave to everyone and Andre smirked as he swaggered up to her.

“Cate was keeping you all to herself, huh?” Andre commented.

Freshman me hesitated. “Uh…”

“Relax, Andre,” Luke said.

“Yeah, I don’t want you freaking her out with all that rizz,” Cate mocked.

Andre rolled his eyes and muttered something about the couple being “cockblockers”.

“Oh, you must know Jordan since they TA the first-year class,” Luke acknowledged.

“Um, sort of, we never…really…talk,” Freshman me admitted.

“Aw, don’t be scared of Jordan, their bark is worse than their bite,” Cate encouraged.

Andre raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure about that?”

Jordan scoffed. “I’ll give you this, you’re the least annoying freshman.”

“Thanks?”

“Okay, let’s split up into pairs.” Cate turned to Freshman me. “Don’t worry about getting hurt----we never go all out in training and we only spar until someone’s knocked out of bounds.”

Freshman me nodded and I watched as she side-eyed Jordan. Even though I’d known that I’d have to spar with them, it didn’t make my nervousness any better. However, the four of them split up amongst themselves, with Andre and Luke going first, followed by Cate and Jordan, and decided that the winners of those rounds would play rock-paper-scissors to determine who sparred with me.

Andre and Luke’s fight was interesting, and I forgot how close of a match they were. Of course, Luke used his fire and flying abilities to his advantage, but Andre was still a force to be reckoned with. Luke still won and Andre grinned as Luke helped him to his feet afterwards. Cate and Jordan’s fight was as surprisingly decent as I remembered. Even though Jordan switched between their forms depending on the circumstance, Cate managed to keep up for a while. It wasn’t until Jordan leg swept her, knocking her out of bounds, that the fight ended.

“Not…fair,” Cate panted as she sat up.

“Don’t be a sore loser,” Jordan teased as she helped her up.

Cate smirked and they stepped out of the ring. Andre playfully rubbed his hands together.

“So, who gets to fight the freshman?” he sang.

“It’s Y/N,” Cate corrected.

“Right, sorry.”

Freshman me smiled softly as she stood from her seat and walked closer to the group. Luke and Jordan faced each other and played rock-paper-scissors. Playing best out of three was a little cruel since Freshman me hoped to spar with Luke. At the very least, he would be nice when I inevitably lost. Jordan was difficult to read but I’d had a feeling that they would taunt me about losing.

When Jordan won, I couldn’t read their expression but Freshman me was terrified.

“Stop looking like I’m going to kill you,” Jordan snapped.

Freshman me jumped and Cate placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Like I said, don’t worry, you’ll be fine,” she whispered.

At the time, I was so frazzled that I couldn’t focus on the outcome of the fight. Instead, I had focused on keeping my lunch down. Instead of joining Andre, Cate, and me on the sidelines, Luke stood on the mat, a couple of feet outside the circle. He waited a couple of seconds before signaling for Freshman me and Jordan to spar.

My shoulders hiked up towards my ears as I watched Freshman me clumsily evade Jordan’s attacks. At that time, I’d learned how to predict my opponent’s movements but I rarely landed strong attacks. Brink thought that because my mental strength was so high my physical strength had no choice but to lag.

“It would be unfair at that point. But, as a future supe, you do need to learn the basics,” he’d instructed.

Freshman me’s form was all over the place; her guard slipped every few seconds, her feet never had solid contact with the ground, and any kick or punch was weak at worst and sloppy at best. I cringed when she took a small energy blast from Jordan that knocked her out of bounds. It didn’t hurt but it was definitely a shock at the time.

“Jordan!” Cate admonished as she jumped to her feet.

She started to rush forward but Andre held her back and Luke shook his head.

“She’s fine,” Luke mouthed.

Freshman me panted on the ground, sweat staining the lime green Alo set she wore a couple of shades darker. Jordan shifted into their male form as they sauntered over to me and extended a hand. Freshman me stared at his hand like it would turn into a snake at any second.

“Come on, you just saw I won’t bite,” he quipped.

At his words, Freshman me accepted his hand and Jordan pulled her to her feet in one move. I smiled as she almost bumped into him, but Jordan steadied her by gripping my forearms.

“I never thought you’d be this clumsy,” he commented.

Freshman me huffed. “I’m, uh, usually not this bad.”

“Well, your form needs some work, and you need to build up more confidence when you’re on the offense. But, you were great at evading me.” “Until that last move.”

“Not a lot of people could avoid that, especially not a freshman. Don’t worry, we’ll work on it.”

Freshman me frowned as Jordan turned and started sauntering back to Cate and Andre. “Wh-what does that mean?”

Jordan glanced at her over his shoulder. “It means I’ll spar with you more often. You can’t be one of Brink’s new favorites and be this bad at fighting, freshie.”

Freshman me continued to gawk at him as he walked away. Andre finally let Cate run over to Freshman me and she insisted on looking her over. When Jordan finally got close enough to me, he had the smallest smile on his face. I stood just as he bent down to grab his water bottle.

“I still don’t get how you flipped like that. You mostly ignored me until then and I was a horrible sparring partner,” I commented.

Jordan chuckled. “I thought you’d get it by now.”

When he turned to face me, my stomach dropped. I didn’t understand why I still had this reaction to him after everything that happened. No matter what, every time he looked at me, I felt warm all over.

“You agreed to train with some of the highest ranking supes on campus and even though you were intimidated, you did your best and you didn’t give up,” Jordan stated. “Before we sparred, I thought Brink liked you so much because of your ability but it was more than that: you face challenges, even when you don’t want to, like a real supe.”

“So do you,” I pointed out.

Jordan shook his head. “Yeah, but it’s different when you do it. I didn’t want to dig into any of this GOD U shit but you didn’t hesitate. It’s scary but also inspiring.”

It took all my strength to keep my mouth from falling open. I inspired Jordan? The same Jordan who did everything in their power to stay in the Top Three. The same Jordan who impressed one of the most influential crime experts so much that they became his TA.

None of this made any sense and I wondered how long Jordan thought of me like that.

Do they actually think about you like that?

I blinked and my heart sunk at the realization that Cate could have been messing with me; this was her domain after all.

But what if Cate knew what Jordan was thinking or feeling at the time? It was possible, especially if she had her gloves off.

“Jordan---"

“And that’s when I said, ‘I hate to tell you buddy but, you’re looking at the wrong end’!” a loud voice cut me off.

When I turned to face the direction of the voice, I was suddenly standing in the corner of the dining room at Mom’s. The candlelight from the tables reflected off the wall, giving the space a false sense of warmth. The scent of roasted turkey, mashed potatoes, yams, and collard greens tickled my nose as I wandered further into the room.

At the long table, Mom and Dad sat on opposite ends, the large spread Ms. Murphy, the family cook, prepared obstructing their views of each other. My brother, Isaac, sat on one side, grinning from ear to ear as both our parents laughed. My fourteen-year-old self sat across from him, smiling as she pushed some greens around on her plate.

I remembered this, this was our first Thanksgiving after Isaac took the Buenos Aires job. The tension was so thick in the air that I could have choked on it and it nearly stopped my appetite.

Younger me slouched in her chair, clad in a red plaid cap-sleeve dress with her hair swept up in a loose curly bun. My face was so much rounder then. As I slowly traversed the table, Isaac pushed up the sleeves of his charcoal gray Brooks Brothers sweater.

Everyone liked Isaac, boys, girls, adults, everyone. If no one fell for his charm, his good sense of humor, or his fantastic social skills, they tended to be drawn to his tall, broad frame and smooth copper skin. When I was a kid, Isaac was everything.

“And that happened your first day?” Dad asked as he adjusted his glasses.

Isaac shook his head. “First week.”

“As expected from our brilliant son,” Mom bragged, sipping some Dom Perignon.

Isaac’s laugh sounded like a deeper-pitched version of Denzel Washington’s. Younger me smiled widely at the sound while I stared on, knowing full well that he probably got it from years of practice.

“I mean, I’m still learning a lot. Everyone I work with has been very welcoming,” Isaac insisted.

“Are you learning a lot about the culture? In school, we learned that it’s so vibrant there,” Younger me piped in.

Mom’s gaze cut towards me. “Y/N, don’t interrupt Isaac.”

Younger me shrank back and I flinched. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

Dad rolled his eyes. “Y/N was only asking a question, Y/M/N. She hasn’t seen him in months, it’s only natural.”

Isaac raised his hands. “It’s okay, everyone.” He looked at Younger me. “It’s a really good question, Y/N. These past two years, I’ve really immersed myself in the culture and I’ve even started picking up more Spanish. Also, the Argentinians are a very welcoming people and I’m so fortunate to work and live with them.”

For the first time, I realized how practiced Isaac sounded. It was the same way Coco sounded whenever she practiced speeches but, she was also going into political science.

Who was Isaac trying to impress or sway?

I made my way to Younger Me and stood against the wall behind her. Her eyes were so wide and sparkling, hanging on to Isaac’s every word. I wondered if that was the same way I looked when I was rushing Si Chi.

Younger Me ate a mouthful of yams and nodded happily. “I’m glad you’re having such a good time. We miss you here, though.”

“But this is a great opportunity for your brother, Y/N. We couldn’t hold him back here,” Dad interjected.

“Right, yeah---” “Yes,” Mom corrected.

“Yes,” Younger Me repeated, turning to Isaac. “Can you pass me the turkey?”

My stomach dropped as the memory echoed in my ears. I wrapped my arms around my waist and leaned further into the wall, rubbing my sides.

“Sure, Sis.” Isaac grabbed the dish and started to hand it over when Dad placed a hand on Isaac’s wrist.

“Y/N, you’ve already had a…generous helping. Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” he asked gently.

I thought I was sinking into the ground as I watched Younger Me grasp for words and could feel how flustered she was in my chest.

“You can’t blame Y/N, Dad. Ms. Murphy’s an amazing cook,” Isaac tried.

Mom scoffed. “It’s all that cooking that made her fat.”

The room was silent for a moment. Suddenly, Dad looked both shocked and understanding as he stared at Mom, Mom was staring at a painting on another wall as she sipped her drink, and Isaac couldn’t take his eyes off the turkey dish in his hands.

I could feel the ball begin in Younger Me’s throat and the tears burned in her eyes as she tried to keep herself together.

“Y/M/N,” Dad admonished.

Mom cut her gaze towards him. “Don’t use that tone with me. Unlike you, I care for our daughter’s health. It’s especially important considering her abilities and we have no idea how obesity could impact them!”

Dad set the turkey dish down and Isaac started nibbling on some mac and cheese. “Don’t do that, I care about Y/N’s health. She has made a lot of progress thanks to my encouragement.”

Mom rolled her eyes. “Oh, you’re saying that like the dance lessons that I paid for had nothing to do with it?”

“Oh yes, Y/M/N, only your contributions supported our daughter. When will you stop acting like you’ve financially supported our children this entire time? Don’t forget who gave you the money to start your agency.”

If looks could kill, Dad would have been dead a long time ago. Mom threw her head back and drained the last of her glass. When she set the glass down, she maintained a neutral expression.

“You can stop throwing that in my face now, Y/D/N; I’m the one who grew it without your or anyone else’s help!”

They went back and forth for a few more minutes and I watched Younger Me’s mind race.

Finally, she interrupted, “Did I tell you that I got all As for the semester?”

The statement made Mom and Dad pause and they relaxed a little.

“That’s wonderful, Y/N,” Dad praised.

“That’s my little sister,” Isaac added with a grin. “Have you solved any cases recently?”

Younger Me grinned. “Well, there’s this one murder that happened out in Cincinnati; a woman was found in a dumpster horribly attacked. The police think it’s a one-off but, that makes no sense since it matches the MO of several other murdered women who were found in the state.”

“What’s the MO?” Isaac asked, sipping some pinot noir.

That was when I noticed that there was something different about Isaac’s eyes. The light brown orbs looked slightly more playful than usual, almost mischievous.

“Oh, she was bludgeoned to death with a blunt object and raped post-mortem,” Younger Me rattled off.

“Y/N, we are eating,” Mom said slowly.

Younger Me hesitated. “Sorry, Mom, I was just answering Isaac’s question.”

“You’ll get better at reading situations, hon,” Dad assured.

Mom shook her head and started stabbing at some greens on her plate. “I don’t recall having this issue with Isaac.” She glanced warmly at him. “You were always so polite and well-mannered.”

“I was well-mannered,” I huffed.

Isaac smiled sheepishly. “It’s different for different people. Y/N will be fine.”

Younger Me nodded slightly but I knew she was trying to keep the tears from spilling down her cheeks.

“I hope so. You know, Vought is merciless about who they select to represent them. With every B-list hero in my agency, they are trained to hell in PR. There can be no mistakes, Y/N, not if you want a future as a supe.”

Younger Me nodded. “Yes, Mom.”

After a few moments where the only sounds were cutlery hitting the plates, Ms. Murphy stepped into the dining room. The portly older black woman rubbed her hands on the towel attached to her apron.

“Pardon me but, dessert is about ready. Should I have the table cleared?” Ms. Murphy asked.

Isaac stood. “It’s alright, Ms. Murphy, I’ll clear the table.”

“Isaac, there’s no need, we have people for that,” Mom insisted.

“It’s okay, I’m happy to help.”

Ms. Murphy nodded and shot a glance in Younger Me’s direction before slipping back into the kitchen. Isaac gracefully collected his plate and started going around the table, collecting ours.

“What a polite boy I have,” Dad complimented, playfully punching Isaac’s arm as he past.

“Despite all that success you’re so humble,” Mom added. “Remember this when you start to get big, Y/N.”

Younger Me nodded and once Isaac was at the kitchen door, she stood. “I’ll go help with dessert.”

Neither of them responded as she trailed behind Isaac, and I trailed behind her. The kitchen smelled like pecan pie and my mouth watered. Ms. Murphy was fantastic at her job, but no one could do desserts like her. She claimed that the secret was that she used full-fat everything.

“A growing girl like you needs that,” she quipped once.

In one corner of the room, Ms. Murphy was adding the finishing touches to the immaculate pecan pie perched on a silver server. Isaac set the dirty dishes on the counter and opened the dishwasher. I decided the island was the best position since it gave me a good view of the two of us and kept me at a decent distance.

“Let me help you,” Younger Me insisted.

Isaac paused and nodded. “Sure, sis.”

“I’m gonna go take this out to your folks,” Ms. Murphy said, pecan pie in hand. She leaned down to Younger Me. “You eat as much of this as you want.”

Younger Me smiled softly as the older woman disappeared into the kitchen.

“It’s really good to have you home, Isaac,” Younger Me commented as she handed Isaac plates.

“You keep saying that,” Isaac joked.

“It’s true. It’s like before when you’re around,” Younger Me said.

Isaac tensed a little but continued loading the dishes. “So, how have things been since I was gone?”

“Horrible,” I stated.

At that time, Mom and Dad cooled off from World War III which was their divorce but they still fought every time they saw each other. Even though Dad moved out a while ago, they would still see each other for my dance recitals, cheer events, or awards ceremonies. And whenever one of them dropped me off with the other, the tension made me sick but the worst part was how they bad-mouthed each other.

They both said things that no daughter should hear about her parents.

“Fine, things have been fine,” Younger Me lied.

I could have cried for her as she fidgeted with a plate. At the time, I didn’t want to burden Isaac since all the phone calls and text conversations we had were so positive. He was doing important work and I didn’t want to complain. But at the same time, he had to know things were bad.

“That’s good to hear,” Isaac replied. “I want to make sure my little sister’s okay.”

Then, Younger Me hesitated and handed him a plate. She bit her bottom lip and several moments past before she said, “Actually, sometimes, things get really, really bad. They both say some things that I hope they don’t mean and sometimes, I know what’s coming but it still freaks me out.” Younger Me shrugged. “Sometimes, I wish I could escape far away from here, like you did.” As innocent as the words were, little did I know at the time that it would be enough to set Isaac off. He straightened from loading the dishes and closed the dishwasher door stronger than he had to. When he turned to Younger Me, the pleasant expression he wore all night disappeared; his jaw tensed and his eyes narrowed.

“You think I escaped?” he asked slowly.

Younger Me blinked and the realization of her words poured over her. “Isaac, I didn’t mean----”

“You think I took that job so that I could run away? It was a fantastic opportunity, and I would have been an idiot not to take it!” he hissed.

Younger Me flinched and I gritted my teeth. “No, it’s great, Isaac, really. We’re all so proud of you and you’ve been doing so much great work. I just meant that it must be nice to get away.”

“I would never want to get away from my family. Adults fight sometimes, Y/N, grow up.”

Isaac’s words stung against my face and I clenched my fists as Younger Me fumbled for words. As Younger Me pled more and more with Isaac, my anger grew.

“I’m sorry, Isaac, really. It’s okay, everything’s okay, don’t worry about us,” Younger Me insisted.

I scoffed. “Nothing was okay, and you had to know that.”

Then, Isaac’s gaze left Younger Me’s and burned into mine. “Stop overexaggerating, Y/N. You never went crazy and you got into the special supe school; you’re doing just fine, it couldn’t have been that bad.”

It was hard to tell whether Isaac’s tone or his insistence on being right was the nail in the coffin but I didn’t care as I charged around the island and stood in front of Younger Me.

“Are you kidding me? I had a million anxiety attacks, and I could barely sleep. No one noticed, though, because I almost killed myself keeping up good grades and trying not to eat too much because Mom and Dad would comment,” I snapped.

Isaac hesitated. “Like I said, though, you’re doing fine now.”

“I’m not fine!” I exclaimed. “I never was but I couldn’t show that because someone had to be the adult in this house. I still don’t understand how you all thought that was okay when it wasn’t.” I scoffed. “Wait, I have an idea, maybe it’s because perfect little Doctor Isaac couldn’t be burdened with the fact that he abandoned his little sister in hell!”

“I didn’t abandon you, it was a good job!” Isaac argued.

The laugh that erupted from my chest was spiteful and it had no joy or air in it. Then, I couldn’t stop laughing, to the point that I doubled over. Isaac must have thought I had lost it but I didn’t care as I straightened up.

“What are you laughing about?” he asked, frowning.

“You could have gotten a surgeon job anywhere in the country and you’re telling me the best offer was ten thousand miles away? You graduated at the top of the class, you had to have other offers.” I huffed. “I had to be so deep in denial but I knew, I had to know. But what does it matter as long as you’re still the favorite.”

“I’m not the favorite; you’re the one they made a superhero,” he defended.

“Please, Isaac, they think I’m a freak at worst and a profitable freak show at best. They never criticized you, they only ever did that with me.” I sniffed and looked up at him. “By the way, why didn’t you ever tell them that I wasn’t fat?”

Isaac hesitated. “What?”

“You were in school for, what, ten years and you became an expert on the human body and health. You could have stopped them from tormenting me about food and my body, but you didn’t. Why did you never defend me?”

His silence almost sent me into another fit of mad laughter, that and the stunned expression on his face. The giddiness and rage that flowed through my veins was almost dizzying as I stared at Isaac. I didn’t blink for so long that his face began to blur. Then, my legs started moving and I wandered around the state-of-the-art kitchen.

“You were always better at this than me-----the performing. It must have been easy coasting as an only child and every gold star, and every A was praised.” I paused and poked at the pot of greens. “They were happy back then.”

“Y/N, you’re talking crazy,” Isaac insisted.

I shook my head. “No, I’m not. All the overthinking and overanalyzing finally helped me realize the truth: you all hate me. No matter what cases I solved, how well I did in school, or how much weight I lost; it was never good enough.” Isaac was silent and I think it was the first time he didn’t know what to say. It was okay because I knew exactly what to say.

“This whole time, I thought that I had to earn people’s love and that if I just worked hard enough, I could get Mom to call me pretty or Dad to post a picture of us without trying to spite Mom.” I finally made eye contact with Isaac. “You made me think that I was broken.”

Then, the kitchen door swung open behind me and Mom and Dad entered the kitchen.

“What’s going on?” Mom asked.

“We heard yelling,” Dad added.

I smiled as I turned to them. “You all made me think I was worthless unless I was perfect. I thought I was going to die so many nights because I made one mistake in an essay or lost a friend because my powers creeped them out. But none of you cared.”

None of them spoke and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to hear any of them. All they could do was lie since I finally realized their true feelings.

My family hated me.

None of them ever really loved me.

My vison blurred as I tried to make eye contact with them again. “How could you think I could end up perfect when you all screwed me up so bad? You make me question myself so much that I’m not even sure what I want anymore.”

I could feel the sobs coming on but I willed them to stay at bay for a moment.

“I’ve met a lot of amazing people at Godolkin, crazy, talented people. But two of them stand out. One of them is this standoffish bigender person who always has a comeback but is actually the kindest person I’ve ever met. The other one is this amazing girl who can see the brighter side of things no matter what, even when people betray her.” I sighed. “And I like both of them, I want to be with both of them, and I don’t know what any of it means and as much as that terrifies me, I’m so happy that I met them.”

They must have all been stunned but I couldn’t focus on them as my chest felt lighter but my throat constricted and I could feel my heart rate pick up. I slowly walked away from the oven and back to my original spot at the island. My hands crept onto the marble counter and I realized that my knees were wobbling.

“You know what’s funny, Isaac?”

Isaac jumped but eyed me.

“If you wanted to abandon me, you didn’t have to go to another continent. Mom and Dad managed to do it and I saw them every day.”

Then, the sobs broke from me and I pressed my hands to my mouth, trying to shove them back in but there was no point. My shoulders shook as I slipped to the ground, the pain barely registering to my brain as I hiccupped into my hands. The tears were hot as they ran down my face and everything hurt so bad and felt so good at the same time; it was like an emotional massage.

Everything that I thought and felt was finally out in the open and none of it was even real.

For a second, I thought a toddler was wailing at the top of their lungs but I almost started laughing again when I realized it was me.

This was it; I was going to be stuck in Cate’s head forever; alone and with nothing to show for it.

The first thing I noticed was something warm against my back. The second was a pair of strong arms wrapped around me. The grip was firm but non-threatening like the owner wanted me to know they were there. The third thing I noticed was Marie’s brown eyes staring back at me as she knelt in front of me.

I paused in my sobbing and sniffled. “Ar-are y-y-you r-r-real?”

“Yeah, I’m real,” she assured.

Her words made me freeze and I started trying to wipe my face, but Marie carefully grabbed my hands. Her thumbs rubbed the top of my hands, and I could feel my sobs slowing down.

“H-h-how’d y-y-you g-get h-here?”

“We found you and Cate and somehow got transported into her head,” Marie explained.

I sniffed, wincing at my congested nose.

“We got to go through a lot of memories, freshie,” Jordan mumbled behind me.

I tensed in their grip and out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Andre standing off to the side. He glared at my family with so much malice that my parents cowered next to Isaac.

I gasped. “Th-this i-is s-so embarrassing. H-how m-much of t-that d-did y-you hear?”

“We heard everything you told your brother,” Andre stated.

Marie placed one of her hands on my face. “Breathe, Y/N, you’re hyperventilating.”

It took a couple of minutes, but I managed to even my breathing and once I did, I felt like shrinking away from her and Jordan.

“I can’t believe you were going through all this and never said anything,” Jordan muttered.

I shrugged. “How could I? You, Andre, Cate, Luke, Marie, and everyone in Si Chi are perfect. If I was going to be accepted, I had to be perfect but now you all know that I’m a mess.”

Marie grabbed my other hand again. “Everyone’s a mess; it doesn’t mean something is wrong with you.”

“If we’ve learned anything by wandering around in Cate’s head, it’s that everyone’s a mess,” Jordan mentioned.

I shook my head. “Don’t say that to try to make me feel better.”

“I’m not.”

Jordan quickly rattled off everything they saw: from Cate and Indira meeting to Andre and Cate cheating to Jordan knowing about Brink drugging Luke to Marie killing her parents. Even though he was brief, everything hit an emotional nerve and it almost shook me back into being myself.

“So don’t act like you’re special or anything, we’re all screw-ups,” Jordan concluded.

“And just so you know, I don’t think that you liking me and Jordan makes you weird or bad,” Marie confessed.

At her words, I jerked my head back to Jordan. “You told her?”

“No, you said it while you were yelling at your brother!” Jordan exclaimed.

My face warmed at the realization, and I groaned as I buried my head into Jordan’s shoulder. This day could not have gotten any worse.

“Wait, you told Jordan before you told me?” Marie asked.

“I was going to tell you but then I got sucked in here,” I murmured.

Marie huffed. “Well, you’ll both have to make it up to me once we get out of here.”

Wait, both?

Marie couldn’t be serious; it would be impossible for her to agree to any of this. It didn’t make any sense, none of it did. That didn’t stop my heart from pounding faster though as I leaned away from Jordan’s shoulder to look at her.

Before I could say anything, Jordan and Marie both helped me to my feet.

“We’ll talk about this later, okay?” Jordan offered.

“Uh-huh.”

At that moment, Andre approached my family and they tried to scramble away from him.

“You should all know that Y/N is the best thing to come from you shitty people. If I see you outside of here, we might have some problems,” Andre threatened.

“Please, don’t hurt us,” Mom begged.

It was hard for me not to laugh as Andre slowly backed away, flipping them off as he went. I laughed a little as he came closer to us.

“Thanks, Andre,” I said.

“No problem. Does anyone know how we get out of here?” he asked.

“We have to find Cate; I saw her briefly earlier but I haven’t been able to find her since,” I admitted.

“If you found her once, you can find her again,” Jordan said.

“Not unless I find you.”

In an instant, my mom’s dining room turned into Cate’s dorm, complete with green accents and comfortable furniture. She sat on her bed, eyes bloodshot and downturned. Marie was the first to approach her and Jordan and I trailed behind her.

“Cate, I’m so glad we found you,” Marie said.

“You have to wake up,” Jordan added.

Cate shook her head. “I don’t want to. You all can wake up but I’m going to stay here.”

Marie frowned. “You’re going to die? But, there’s so much we can do once we’re out of here.”

“Yeah, we can expose what’s going on at the school but we need your help,” Jordan insisted.

No matter what anyone said, Cate remained unresponsive. Both Jordan and Marie tried to reason with her while Andre snapped at her for everything that happened. All I could do was watch and wonder if her behavior made sense. In a way, her entire world fell apart and she’d exposed everything in all of us. She must feel alone but what did she think would happen?

How could she incense me and make me feel sorry for her at the same time?

Finally, I stepped over to her and bent down so that we were eye to eye. “Despite all the psychological torment I experienced in here, all I can think about is what else you haven’t told us.” I swallowed. “Because I have a really bad feeling that if Shetty used you like this, she would use me too.”

“No, Y/N, Indira wouldn’t do that.”

“She’s been in your head since you were a kid, Cate, it would make sense that she would go after Y/N too and you wouldn’t notice it,” Jordan pointed out.

Cate hesitated and then looked at her gloved hands. “This is all my fault.”

“You can make it right but not if you stay in here,” Marie said.

I didn’t know how much time had passed as Cate mulled over her options. All I knew was as she was deciding, my heart continued pounding in my ears as the lightning cracked above our heads. My hands shook as the cracking got louder and louder.

Then, it stopped.

#black!reader #jordan li x reader #gen v x reader #limoreau x reader #marie moreau x reader

184 notes · View notes

i-just-want-to-be-a-bumblebee · 4 months ago

Text

Chapter Two A-Z Sullivan Whump

B is for Bolt

TW: vomiting, blood, accidental harm with a deadly weapon

“Come on sir, surely you have to agree this is better than the streets of London.” Goodfellow states joyfully as he leads Sullivan down a winding path just into the woods.

Sullivan wasn’t sure what it was that made him agree to this hike, he assumed it was the surprise of being asked in the first place. But here he was in worn in boots and casual trousers walking behind his sergeant. Goodfellow had mentioned he wanted to show him the beauty of the village that they lived in, maybe help him see that it wasn’t so terrible to be there. After all the help he and Mrs. Goodfellow had given him after he was injured in the cottage fire a few months ago, he didn’t feel like he could say no.

The recovery he went through had been nothing short of brutal and he knew he wasn’t the easiest patient. He’d have to think of something nice to do for the family. They had put up with his bad attitude more than once. And here the man was, giving up a pretty Saturday morning to try to get him comfortable in the village. He couldn’t ask for a better friend.

So here he was, walking down a rather lovely trail, listening to what was the closest thing to a friend that he had talk about the local wildlife, enjoying the nice weather on his weekend off.

“You’re right Goodfellow, it is a lovely place. Just… different from what I’m used to is all.”

“If you get yourself involved in life here, find your spot I think you’ll really come to love Kembleford.”

“My spot is the police station, that’s the whole reason I’m here.” Goodfellow shook his head and stopped walking.

“You’re right, that is what brought you here, but I think if you look you can find somethings that might help you want to stay here. Maybe cricket or rugby?” It was a little odd for him to talk so casually to Sullivan like this. The previous months had created a friendship with the pair that couldn’t have happened without Sullivan being severely injured and requiring a lot of help from Goodfellow. Now, he felt like they may be close enough that he could give his technical boss suggestions without stepping out of line.

“Perhaps you’re right. I’ll look into joi-“ his words were cut short as a cross bolt came from deeper in the woods, burrying itself in his thigh, near to his hip. He let out a pained cry as his leg gave out from under his.

“Inspector!” Goodfellow reached for him, catching him and slowly lowering the writhing man to the ground.

He looked around for an assailant and saw only forest. Turning his attention back to the other man he applied pressure around the bolt, not daring to remove it.

Sullivan bared his teeth and let out a guttural yell from behind them. His head was thrown back, the muscles in his neck taunt.

“Fucking hell!”

“I know, I know. I need you to stay awake, sir. It’s too high up for a tourniquet, and I can’t get it to stop bleeding while the bolt is in there.

“Going to bleed more if you take it out.” Sullivan panted out. Goodfellow nodded, his hands shaking as he applied ineffective pressure around the bolt.

“If I support you, can you make it back to the car? We need to get you to the hospital.” They were maybe 40 minutes into their walk. It would take probable double that to get back now. Sullivan sucked in a sharp breath before nodding tersely.

“Yeah I think so. If you can help as a crutch, I think I can make it.” Goodfellow crouched and hoisted him onto one unsteady leg, immediately taking most of the inspector's weight over his broad shoulders.

They made it only a dozen feet or so when the sound of something large moving quickly through the woods alerted them. Suddenly fire chief Dawson broke through the trees holding a cross bow.

“Oh shit!”

“What the fuck?!” He and Sullivan exclaimed at the same time. Dawson acted on instinct, ducking under Sullivan other shoulder and hoisting him with Goodfellow.

“Why do you have a crossbow Dawson?!” Sullivan bit out between gasps.

“I was out here target practicing. My nephew wants to come out next week and shoot and I'm a terrible shot, so I thought I’d practice!” He rushed to explain. “I thought I was in the clearing enough that it would be a problem!”

“A problem?! You shot me!” Goodfellow could see this going nowhere good. He urged the group on, not liking how pale his inspector had gotten under his rage.

“I’m sorry!” Dawson shouted back in distress. He could also see how pale Sullivan had gotten. Pretty sure the man would never forgive or forget this, there goes that hope of friendship.

Sullivan huffed in annoyance that gave way to pain. The bolt had lodged itself deep in his thigh, he’d be amazed if it wasn’t stuck in the bone. The jostling caused the pain to starburst with each step.

He was able to tolerate about twenty minutes of hurried stumbling, gritting his teeth and growing paler by the second before he gasped out, “stop, just a moment please.”

Dawson and Goodfellow stopped immediately and turned to face the injured man, their hands nearly touching each other on his back. Suddenly he broke away and stumbled towards a tree, leaning his arms and head against the rough bark, breathing deeply. He swallowed the saliva in his mouth trying not to be sick on the side of the path. The fire chief and his sergeant watched him with obvious concern. After a few minutes he leaned back, turning to put his back to the trunk, all his weight on his good leg.

“Okay, I’m not going to be sick. Let’s keep going.” The uninjured duo shared a Quick Look before resuming their places under his arms.

They had to stop three more times for the injured man to catch his breath. Each break lasted longer than the one before, by time they made it nearly to the trail head Sullivan was shaking, a combination of fatigue and pain.

“Stop.. stop” He panted out, trying to pull away from the men’s grasp.

“We’re almost back to the car sir, just hold on.” Goodfellow urged, quickening his step and holding tighter to the belt line of Sullivan pants. Sullivan shook his head and jerked himself from their hold. He braced himself again a tree with both arms and bent forward, vomiting into the brush.

Dawson grabbed hold of his belt line as his leg started to give way. “I’ve got you. It’s alright. Take a breath.” Sullivan spat, attempting to remove the vile taste from his mouth. He leaned his weight more heavily into Dawson, unconsciously taking comfort from his nearness, even if this was his fault.

Goodfellow watched the two men closely before making a choice. “I am going to go get the car sir, pull it up to the trail head. Nearly done now.” He took off down the path, not unlike a bear on his way to where they had parked the car.

Silence hung over the two men, Dawson holding most of the inspectors trembling weight.

“I am sorry.” He said lowly, mortified at having caused the accident.

“‘s fine.” Sullivan muttered, too tired to get into it now. He could feel his eyes losing focus and his body beginning to crash now that they’ve stopped moving.

“Hey I need you to stay awake. You can rest once we have you in the car.” Dawson jostled him gently.

“Mhmm.” Dawson could feel the other man sag against him, his good leg buckling.

“Alright, I’ve got you.” He huffed out as he was forced to take on Sullivan full weight. He lowered them to the ground, adjusting as Sullivan head came to rest in the crook of his neck. When he looked he could see Sullivan eyes rolling, attempting to maintain consciousness.

“It’ll be alright. I’ve got you.” Was the last thing Sullivan heard before blackness over took his vision.

When he next regained consciousness it was to the smell of antiseptic and bleached linens. Hospital then, he mused his eyes remaining closed. He could feel the tight bandage around his thigh, and the pillows bracing it from moving. He wiggled his toes and despite the flair of pain he was happy to be able to do that. Didn’t have to amputate, always good. It had been a worry he tried not to think too heavily about while they stumbled back towards the car. He could hear two, maybe three people in the room with him. Guess it was time to wake up.

Goodfellow sat in the chair closest to the window, reading over a file. Father Brown sat in the chair next to his bed, notes on what Sullivan assumed were his next sermon in his lap. By the door, leaning against the frame was Chief Dawson, he had his arms crossed and looked very focused on a point on the floor.

“Good evening.” Sullivan croaked out, startling all three men, which was amusing to the injured man to a slight degree.

“Inspector!”

“Sir!”

“Sullivan!”

All three moved closer to the bed, the Father only needing to lean out of his chair slightly to be able to take his hand.

“I am very glad to see you awake Inspector. We’ve been worried. What a terrible accident to have on such a pretty day in the woods.” Sullivan noted Dawson’s flinch.

“An accident.” Sullivan agreed. “What happened after I passed out?”

“We got you into the car and to the hospital. Dr. Aoki was able to get the bolt out. He said it had clipped your femur, hairline fracture and did a fair amount of muscle damage but said you’d make a full recovery.” Goodfellow reported.

“Time frame?” He asked, dreading the answer.

“Four to six weeks. Crutches then a cane.” Goodfellow smiled compassionately, knowing his boss wouldn’t want to take the time off.

Sullivan groaned and leaned his head back into his pillow. “I feel as if I just returned from medical leave!” He complained.

“You did, seven weeks ago. That has to be a new record, Inspector.” Dr. Aoki said as he walked into the room, moving around Dawson in the doorway.

“It wasn’t my fault, I was having a nice walk with Goodfellow!” Sullivan protested.

“Regardless, you’ll be out for a week and on desk duty for another four.” He ignored Sullivan groan. “Do you have someone that can stay with you, or that you can stay with?” Silence filled the space, he didn’t want to go back to Goodfellow, they had been so kind but he felt like he had taken up enough of the man’s time.

“He can stay with me?” Dawson piped up from the door. “I’ve got a room on the main floor so you won’t have to climb the stairs. Let me make it up to you? Since it is kind of my fault?” Father Brown and Sargent Goodfellow shared a quick smile.

Sullivan thought for a minute. “Alright. I appreciate it. I have one condition though.”

“Name it.”

Sullivans lips twitched in a smirk. “I’ll teach your nephew how to shoot, you don’t handle that crossbow at all while I’m there!”

Dawson spluttered in mock offense while Goodfellow and Father Brown laughed. Dr. Aoki sighed, he foresaw he would be seeing a lot of this young man in the future, he just knew it.

#father brown #inspector Sullivan #fanfic

13 notes · View notes

mysteriawrites · 3 days ago

Text

Matchup Exchange for @tillichan

Your life in JJK

Your Backstory:

You come from a very old and very powerful jujutsu clan from China. The technique your family uses is incredibly powerful and incredibly dangerous, so all your life you had rigorous training to master it. You were next in line to be one of the guardians of balance between the human and spirit worlds. With this very strict upbringing and weighty responsibility, you’re very hard on yourself. You never allow yourself to relax and have fun…until you came to jujutsu high.

Your Cursed Technique: Yin x Yang

Your technique allows you to tap into the natural energies of yin and yang. You must maintain balance between the two to use them effectively and to maintain control.

Yin: is the dark energy you wield against your enemies fueled by the power of the moon. It boosts your physical abilities to superhuman levels and lets you manipulate dark energy to shape to your will. However if you stay in this state too long you will lose yourself to the darkness.

Yang: Is the light energy you wield to aid your allies fueled by the power of the sun. It allows you to heal and buff your allies and debuff your enemies. It also allows you to protect and purify against dark energy. However if you stay in this state too long the light will burn you from the inside out.

Your Match:

Okkotsu Yuta!!!

Yuta is the sweetest boy you have ever met.

You first met when he transferred to Jujutsu high. Because you your training and lineage you immediately felt his curse, but you could tell it was different and it intrigued you.

You were the first to truly approach him before the rest of the class warmed up to him. He thought you were like a princess out of a fairytale. You were beautiful strong and kind.

You two would be able to talk without the pressure of judgement or expectations. You helped tutor and train him to catch him up with the rest of the class.

Day by day his crush on you grew deeper and deeper, but how could a princess like you fall for a commoner like him.

Until he sacrificed himself to save you and the others during the night of 1000 curses. When it was all over he was so happy that you were ok and you two kissed. (Your classmates totally clapped and cheered quietly in the background).

He was your knight in shining armor.

You guy’s relationship is so sweet and gentle and precious it’s so cute.

Your pets love him and he loves to give them love and affection. It’s like you two have a little family.

He buys you new plants he sees that he thinks you’ll like and he finds it cute when you tell him about them.

You two read manga and watch anime together while you cuddle.

You two spar and train together and you help heal him after missions. You may be strong but he will still protect you with his life during missions.

You’re also the older siblings of the underclassmen. Ready to listen to their problems and guide them.

He likes to lend you his sweaters to warm you up since your hands are always cold. He thinks you look adorable in them.

Even Rika’s spirit approved of your relationship before she passed on.

Sometimes he feels he’s not worthy of someone as amazing as you, but you reassure him every time.

Your relationship is very soft and gentle and the most dangerous force in the jujutsu world. Because you will tear through any enemy to get to each other.

Relationship with other Characters:

Zenin Maki

Your best friend. You guys have a good cop bad cop kinda thing going on. You’re the sweet and gentle one and she’s the intimidating scary one. She loves you like a sister (and much more than her actual sister) and would protect you with her life.

Inumaki Toge

Wingman #1. He is Yuta’s best friend and helps push him to be better and that includes pushing him to ask you out. You two are his best friends and he loves you both and wants the best for you two. He’s also secretly a hopeless romantic and thinks you guys are so cute.

Panda

Wingman #2. Same as Toge but is a lot more open about it. He does everything for his friends and is unapologetically himself so he’s always gushing about how cute you two are.

Fushiguro Megumi

You’re his capable upperclassman. He looks up to you immensely. The way you handle curses with such precision and elegance, he can’t help but admire you (and might have a bit of a crush on you but it’s like how one would have a crush on an idol or celebrity).

Kugisaki Nobaru

She looks up to you as her role model. Her cool, elegant, sexy, and powerful upperclassmen. She idolizes you and Maki and aspires to be as amazing a sorcerer as you one day.

Itadori Yuki

He doesn’t know much about you but he thinks you’re so cool. Not only are you crazy powerful, but you’re nice to everyone you meet to boot. He knows his grandpa would’ve heavily respected you and that’s all he really needs to know that you’re awesome.

Saturo Gojo

Your very eccentric teacher. He knows the pressure from being descended from a powerful clan. He sees himself in you and he wants to encourage you to let loose now and again and never be afraid to be yourself.

#multi fandom blog #multifandom account #multifandom #multifandom writer #multi fandoms posts #multifandom fanfiction #multifandom x reader #multifandom imagines #matchups #jujutsu kaisen #yuta okkotsu #yuuta okkotsu x reader #matchup exchange

5 notes · View notes

dinkflocculent · 1 year ago

Text

Old Prey: Chapter One - Paranoid

Beau

♧ 12 / 18 / 1980 ♧

The night was as beautiful as always. The mellow melody of the snow falling filled my ears. It prompted me to cover myself with my blanket in comfort. The peacefulness of the night was welcoming. Yet, nagging anxiety ordered me to ignore the soothing cold dead of night.

My thoughts seemed to swallow my mind whole. The beauty of the night only seemed to remind me of how large the land was. Meaning how difficult it would be for someone to find me if some sick beast took me. My fur, meat, and size would catch anyone’s eye. The outside world wasn’t a safe place for someone like me, even for my species…

“Beau,” Duko started through the other line of the telephone, snapping me out of thoughts. “You need to stop worrying so much.”

Clenching my paw, I try to push away my annoyance. “I’m not worrying, I’m being cautious—not a jumpy cub afraid of fairy tales.”

“I get that your…” he thinks of an inoffensive phrase. “…condition makes you more vulnerable, but can you chill out? You never want to hang out because you think some beast will devour you; you’re an apex predator!”

Volatile Rupiah, a rare condition that makes a beast’s growing process slower, makes my life hell. Even though I’m a bear, I’m like a prey beast because of my small size and strength. Not to mention my father’s overprotective nature. Cowering my head with lectures that make me turn my head now and again.

But I can’t blame my father; he is a rhino after all. Such pressure being the principal of my school. Everyone knows beasts kill rhinos for their valuable horns. It isn’t so difficult to do such things for a quick thousand dollars these days. He only fears it’ll get worse when the years go by. Maybe it’s not just a fear anymore.

“That’s easy for you to say,” I scoffed, holding in an insult. “You’re a wolf.”

“And you’re a bear!” Duko exclaimed. “Do you know how big you’ll get in your early twenties—like in a year—or how strong you’ll be?”

“I won’t be so cautious once I grow…” I mumbled, covering my face with my paw even though I was alone.

“And your father is a large rhino,” Duko continued. “Look, I’m sorry for bringing this up again and reminding you about your Volatile Rupiah, but don’t you get what I mean?”

“But…” I consider his points but shake the thought away. “What if I was alone and coincidentally, some beast had a taste for meat?”

I could imagine Duko’s face, bewilderment with a dash of buried aggravation. “That’s… rare. You’re always with someone else.”

“…It could happen.”

We both hear the rustling of the covers through the other line as an awkward silence falls between us. Duko has brought up this topic many times, and it always ends like this—me denying everything. Something inside me is telling me to listen. Yet, my father’s words that he told me as a cub always play through my head.

“Remember, Beau,” my father looked down at me with a soft but serious smile. “Any beast could take you for your fur or meat. Even if you’re an omnivore, you’re not the size yet. That’s why you always have to look behind your back.”

I can’t seem to make it stop.

“You know my father? He never lets his guard down. Not trusting innocent strangers, always looking behind his back… Even in his home.” Duko said, breaking the silence. “I don’t want you to become that paranoid because of your father’s… never mind.”

I pause for a moment, taking in his warning. “…I won’t.”

“Anyways…” Duko said with a halting tone. “Call of the Beast is coming up soon. We’re going to have three weeks off after tomorrow…”

Call of the Beast was a celebration that fell on December 25th. Beasts would meet with their animal family and have a feast. Family, friends, strangers—everyone came to celebrate and travel. It’s the favorite time of the year because students get a three-week break. Tomorrow was the last day before the break began.

Everyone was excited to go like every other year, but my father was always hesitant. The black market always had a sale now of year, meaning double the hunting. Those bastards would give away their sense of smell for fur like mine. They cost a fortune.

“Me and my parents are going to celebrate with their friends and relatives,” he squealed with a benevolent tone. “My father doesn’t trust any strangers because he ‘wants to be sure no one unpleasant comes to get us,’ or something. What about you?”

“Oh, nothing much…” I responded. “I usually go out to eat with my dad and stay home to watch movies with him.”

“So, you don’t celebrate with any other ursidae? But that’s not even celebrating!” Duko asked. “…How about you hang out with me after the celebration? My father won’t mind, you’re harmless.”

I hesitate, thoughts swarming inside my head. So many things could go wrong. Call of the Beast is the most wholesome time of the year but has the highest percentage of beasts devoured. That’s why my father was always so wary of the holiday.

Duko is a kind soul. He’s nice, respectful, caring… but he’s a canidae. He would never do such a thing, but any beast could just… snap. It happens all the time.

Maybe my father’s words are getting to me.

“Beau?”

“Oh, I…” I take a glance at my clock. “It’s… It’s getting late, I have to go!”

“It’s just a minute after ten-“

“Goodnight!” I quickly hang up the phone, fall into bed, and look at the ceiling. Eventually, I will face my fears of entering the real world once I graduate. I’m not going to be small forever. But my father’s overprotective words get the best of me.

“Any beast can snap—and a small, vulnerable beast is a great target.”

***

♧ 12 / 19 / 1980 ♧

“What is it like with Volatile Rupiah?”

The snow crunches beneath my boots as I stop, looking up at Duko with a confused expression. It isn’t like him to ask me a question that I’m very sensitive about, especially not so early in the morning.

“W-Well, of course, if you’re not comfortable-”

“Like a rabbit in a forest full of starving wolves,” I cut him off, avoiding eye contact. “It’s difficult. Knowing that my vulnerability can cause my fate in the black market.”

Duko lowers his ears and gazes. “I’m sure no beast would take you to that place…”

The black market is where you can traffic meat and fur. The usual practice is raising a beast for slaughter. But kidnapping a beast and then killing them takes less time. It usually happens to herbivores, but omnivores and carnivores like me are still on a plate. That’s why I never go out alone at night.

I began to walk again. “Why did you ask?”

“I just wondered how it felt to be an herbivore,” he caught up with me. “It would be rude to ask a prey animal… since I’m a carnivore and all.”

“…alright…?”

Realizing how awkward the question was, Duko didn’t say anything else as we both walked in silence. Arriving at the bus stop, I stare at the ground in this uncomfortable. Duko wasn’t a conversation expert. He always ended up blurting out things. Unintentionally saying something rude or nosy.

But he had a good mind. He tries to make me feel better. If only it wasn’t so hard to explain my troubles to someone who will never experience what I am experiencing.

Ever since last night, I’ve been thinking more and more about Call of the Beasts, and I can’t get it out of my head. Every year is the same. Every beast is going out and traveling to have a great feast and meet other species. But I stay home with my father, bored and alone.

This year it hurts even more because of Duko. I don’t know how to explain the feeling, but my mind isn’t letting me let go of it.

The bus rolls in front of us. Duko gives me a nervous glance before going in first as if he’s trying to protect me. I walk in behind him, quickly taking a seat to escape the awkward glances by every other beast.

The bus began to move. “I’m sorry.”

I tilt my head. “…You’re sorry for asking me a question?”

“For how it made you feel. I know your disease lowers your self-esteem. I don’t want you to feel that way.”

I smile, looking up at him. “Don’t worry, wolf pup. I get down for even thinking about it, you didn’t change a thing! Besides, I wouldn’t want you to a rabbit to scream at you for asking them that question.”

We both chuckle, Duko seeming glad he could brighten the mood.

“Uh… so, have you thought about spending time with me during the break?”

I cringe, gulping as my gaze treads away from his. That thought left my mind when I was thinking about the break, and now it has come back to haunt me.

“Well, I…” I stumble over my words, trying to find a way to explain this in the nicest way.

Saving me from disappointing my best and only friend, the bus stops and I scurry off of it. Someday I will have to explain to Duko why I won’t be coming with him, and I fear it. I don’t want to see him frown, his ears droop, or his joyful, excited tone turn quiet and secluded. My heart can’t take it.

***

I look down at the floor as I put my head down, all the joyful chatter from the other beasts stabbing my ears in envy. It was like the universe was mocking me. I would rather sit in another lecture. Again, my father about how I could be in danger alone outside. That would be so much better than this embarrassing position.

Wanting to escape from this boredom, I snag the hall pass from the snoozing teacher’s desk. Heading to the door, trying to stay unnoticed. It may be unsanitary, but I plan to sit in the bathroom till the bell rings. That will give me my mind a much-needed rest and my anxiety at bay. Besides, no one will care or notice.

Raising my paw to the doorknob, it already opens before I can. But the sight that causes my breath to catch in my throat makes me wish that I stayed in my seat. That golden brown mane encircled his head and neck. A fiery glare burns through me, making my fur rise behind my neck. That short, sandy hue of his fur…

Mr. Santifelon.

8 notes · View notes

mudboy-eliot · 5 months ago

Text

Heya! Eliot reporting from Gateon Port!

Finally caved in to social pressure and made a Rotomblr blog.

My name is Eliot [they/them], I’m a Ground type specialist by choice and a Poison type specialist by accident.

I recently moved to a small ranch house in Orre, just outside of Gateon. My home region is just south of Orre, but I’ve actually been living in Hoenn for the last few years, so it’s taken me a while to get used to the dry hot weather again.

I love walking through nature, taking pictures and sketching what I see, so expect to see some pictures and sketches from my hikes around here. I often just post my Pokémon sightings to poryNaturalist, so make sure to look there if you’re interested in my wildlife photography. Orre seems to be such an interesting region and I’m really looking forward to explore it.

Feel free to send asks! I’d love to interact with other Pokémon enthusiasts.

Pelipper Mail, Musharna Mail and Union Circle are on

Malice, Unmails and Magic Anons are off

Battle Team:

Kipp [Swampert | Male]: My beloved starter. He is very playful and loyal, he looks out for me and I look out for him. He is as adventurous as I am, so we go out into the wilderness together a lot. He believes he is still lap dog sized despite being almost as tall as me when on all fours.

Nettle [Sandslash | Female | Poison Tera]: Found her on 113 while collecting some ash for a flute. She has gotten us out of many sticky situations, both in and outside of battle. She is very athletic and so very proud of her skills. She has quite a couple poison type moves in her arsenal, but we actually didn’t find out she had a poison tera type until our trip to Paldea.

Flan [Clodsire | Female]: Speaking of my trip to Paldea, that’s where I found this lovely gal. She is such a foodie, I always take her to market so we can try some new berries and regional treats.

Grub [Piloswine | Male]: Got him as an egg from a daycare. Grub is so sweet and clingy you could get cavities. He always wants to play, cuddle or just hang out near you and he will bring to you things he things you’ll like (which are mostly cool rocks and sticks).

Ankles [Flygon | Male]: Caught him in 111 as a Trapinch and my ankles suffered the consequences. I thankfully managed to train him to stop biting and now he just gives soft, playful nips. Despite not being an active threat to everyone’s feet anymore, he is still very sassy and will let you know when he’s displeased in the pettiest of way. Let’s say my shoes have mysteriously disappeared more than once, but it’s all in good fun.

Non-Battlers:

Lily [Glameow | Female]: She’s an old lady, used to be really active and adventurous, but now she just loafs around the house. She’s really sweet, a real cuddle bug. Another Pokémon scratched off the cornea of her left eye before she decided to stay with my family, so now she is half blind.

Katy [Nincada | Female]: One of the first Pokémon I caught. Found her just off of Rustboro while I was running some errands. There was a connection at first sight and I knew I had to catch her. She’s such a little mischievous little imp, always hiding in the greenery or beneath the ground, playing pranks on me and my other Pokémon.

Sephie [Phanpy | Female]: This safari zone cutie has won so many contests. She’s just delightful. She has a knack for theatrics and acrobatics so she basically choreographs her routines herself, I’m mostly just here to help her shine.

Worm [Barboach | Male]: Caught him while fishing near Mauville. He doesn’t really do much, kinda just hangs around in the pond or his tank. He is very cuddly, tho.

Suri [Rockruff | Male]: Such a silly little guy. Raised him since he was a hatchling. He is really rambunctious and very prone to zoomies. When he was very young, he would stand on his hind legs and look around, just like a Watchog.

Nook [Venomoth | Male]: He just kinda appeared one day inside my house as a Venonat. He is very chill, just kinda hanging out in the greenery.

Varo [Grafaiai | Female]: Also caught her on my trip to Paldea. As an artist, I consider her a kindred spirit. She’s the perfect museum partner. She really enjoys surrealist paintings and always tries to replicate them in her murals.

Jack [Clobbopus | Male | Ghost Tera | Anhilape genes]: He came in from Clay’s Pokemon Ranch on Sinnoh and is still trying to adjust. He is very timid, so for now he is living in a box he found on my living room.

Doozy [Skitty | Female | Fiorean variant] Newest arrival! Rescue from Alola.

// Hello! I’m Eddie [he/they], the actual person behind the blog. If you enjoy my art, you can find more at @reimagining-johto for pokemon redesigns and @eddies-silly-art-gallery for other art!

I also run @prof-nuytsia where I’ll be talking about Pokémon biology and making adoptables.

Tag glossary:

#rotomblr, #pokemon irl, #pokeblogging, etc: these are your standard RP tags

#mudboy eliot: original content tag

#rapidashboard: reblog tag

#asks: ask tag

#poryNaturalist: in-universe nature photography

#snaps: in-universe general photography

#sketchbook: in-universe sketchbook drawings

#mudboy eliot #intro post #pokemon irl #rotomblr #rotumblr #pokeblogging #pokemon rp #rp blog #ask blog #poryNaturalist #trainersona #//idk what else to tag

5 notes · View notes

sunnyrosewritesstuff · 1 year ago

Text

This is my favorite review segment! These are self-chosen and I swear every year it gets harder!

Top 5 Writings of 2023

5. Temporarily in Different Worlds

Thorin pulled him in close and held him tightly as he shut his eyes against the place where he would be forced to watch Bilbo leave him. Thorin pulled back only far enough to meet Bilbo’s lips, pressing and sucking as if he could drink the ocean straight from Bilbo’s mouth. Bilbo was the one to break their kiss, but only leaning far enough away for their foreheads to still be pressed together.

“I love you, Thorin.” He murmured.

“I love you, too. Promise me you’ll be safe?”

“I promise.”

“Promise me you’ll come back?”

Bilbo’s lips quirked in a small smile. “Now that I’ve found you, nothing but ice could keep me away.”

4. The Twelve Transformations of Bilbo Baggins

“So this quest…it’s to get back the part that makes you feel incomplete?” Bilbo questioned.

“Yes, but not in the way I thought.” Thorin grumbled.

Bilbo watched as he seemed to be trying to pick through his words. He had to wonder how much harder it was for him to have this conversation in Westron instead of his native language of Khuzdul.

“You see, my father’s was Family. He always knew he was going to find that in another person. But my mother’s was Creating. So she threw herself into her work as a smith and no one, not even the Crown Prince, was going to distract her. But there’s a feeling you get when you know you’ve found ‘a right path’. It’s a warmth that consumes your entire being, and therefore, if you’re ever in danger of losing it…it’s coldness that nearly robs you of all your senses. It was this feeling my mother felt when my father was injured in an orc attack that made her realize, he was her path. And she ended up with her greatest creations, or so she said, my siblings and me.”

Bilbo smiled, thinking of his own mom at that point. She always called him her ‘greatest adventure’.

“Did you feel the coldness when Smaug came?” He asked, curious about this One business.

“Yes.” Thorin admitted slowly. “But there was another time I felt it.”

“When?”

Thorin’s gaze, which had drifted, immediately snapped back to connect with Bilbo. Holding him in his earnesty that had Bilbo’s toes curling at the foreign sensation.

“With you. When you were being held by two trolls, threatened to be ripped apart."

3. Ambassador to Madness

Bilbo thought about the sheer sleeves again, and felt like his entire face would catch fire at any moment as he realized the level of unrespectability he had been enduring.

“Thorin, have I been appearing…prurient?”

What could only be described as a whine came from Thorin taking Bilbo’s embarrassment to mortification.

“Sweet Yavanna! I can’t do this now. Just what was Bifur thinking?!”

“It is very tastefully handled! Everyone here is just going to think that you’re…”

“Promiscuous?” Bilbo growled.

“...exotic.”

“Why did Bifur do this to me?” Bilbo groaned.

“Because he’s a very good tailor.” Thorin mumbled under his breath.

2. Just to See You Happy

“Balin.” Bilbo’s voice wobbled. “Why are you doing this? Is it…because of him?”

Frodo had so many questions. Who were they talking about? And why did it make them so sad? After a long moment, Balin released a sigh.

“Much like Erebor, the loss of Khazad-dum is an injustice that we can finally correct. Are you asking if our previous adventure still affects me? Well, lad, doesn’t it us all?”

And 1! A Light in the Dark

Thorin immediately ducked his head, and if Bilbo wasn’t so sure it was an emotion he deemed beyond Thorin Oakenshield, he would almost say that he reacted shyly.

“I also don’t like the dark.” He claimed in a soft, near whisper. “I wasn’t afraid of it, but…mountain caves are darker than dark. I mean, look at this.”

Thorin’s arms swept out over the view before them.

“The stars, the moon, even your insects. Even when it’s dark you can still see. The mountain isn’t like that. You’re just…trapped and blind. And the pressure! There is nothing like the pressure of having an entire mountain looming above you, and you’re the one who has to shoulder the responsibility, you’re the one who has to rise to meet their expectations…”

Of course, there were some that I couldn't throw away when I was making my list so here's my honorable mention list! If there's a scene or line that I wrote this year that didn't make it on this list but you felt like it should...feel free to add on!

To Spoon Feed You Comfort (New WIP)

He continued his thought though in that low, deep drawl of his. “I had you pegged five seconds into our meeting.”

Bilbo swallowed around the tight lump forming in his throat.

“Please, enlighten me.” Bilbo challenged.

Thorin held eye contact for a long moment, before his shoulders squared back, as if in effort to pull himself up taller. Bilbo refused to be cowed though, which seemed to be noticed by the twitch in Thorin’s eyebrow and the quirk of his lips.

“You have the biggest burrow in the town. I noticed as I passed by…twice, thinking it had to be an inn or a palace.”

Bilbo opened his mouth to interrupt, but Thorin continued.

“So you are a hobbit lord which means you probably have too much time and too much money on your hands. You are polite, kind-hearted, considering you haven’t thrown us out yet, but you don’t go out of your way to help people if tonight has been any indicator. You thirst for adventure, as noted by the sheer volume of maps on your walls, but you fear danger. Because why else would you still be here?

And that’s what can’t be overlooked. I can handle spoiled, pompous, inexperience, but your fear would doom us. All I’ve asked of my kin is loyalty, honor, and a willing heart. I can afford to accept no less from you. And if that is something you can’t give, stay here.”

Bilbo swallowed and swallowed again after Thorin had finished, his eyes having fallen to his toes long before Thorin had finished. It was perhaps the third time that he tried to speak that he realized he absolutely hated how close to the truth Thorin actually managed to land. The only part Bilbo felt he could argue was he wasn’t kind-hearted. He hasn’t felt anything but cold and numb in that cavity for a very long time.

Seeing Stars

“I don’t hate you.”

Bilbo honestly didn’t know what to say to that. Thank you? It certainly didn’t help Bilbo’s current predicament any as his body already began to mistake Thorin’s assurance as a confession. Before Bilbo could even breath a word though, Thorin gave a pained cry before crumpling to the ground. Gollum stood behind him with an oversized rock looking rather proud of himself before scrambling away.

Webcam

“Not the butter, you brute!”

Oakenshield: Prince or Thief? (New WIP)

“Well you are proving to be a very accommodating captive. Do you do this often?”

“You’d be the first who dare attempt it.” Thorin responded.

“Ah.” The hobbit grinned before leaning in to whisper in Thorin’s ear. “I’ll be sure to take it nice and slow then.”

#sunny says stuff #year in review #top 5 writings #were any of these you guys favorites?#tell me more!

2 notes · View notes

charlenasaxen · 20 days ago

Text

“Jace, you’ve fought it. He didn’t corrupt you—”

“No,” Jace said. “He didn’t have to.”

“I’ll send you a message.” He smiled fleetingly. “Think of me as your backup plan.”

“If your father weren’t who he is,” he said, “he’d be proud of you.”

“Jace looked surprised for a moment, and then just as quickly he flushed”

“bit his lip. “Never mind. Good luck to you, Lucian Graymark. Ave atque vale.”

“as Jace lifted his head, frowning at the sudden intensification of the light, there was something in his face that struck Luke—something in that mixture of vulnerability”

“You remind me of someone,” he said without thinking. “Someone I knew years ago.”

“as Jace turned away, the resemblance faded, banishing the ghosts of memory”

“Her hand, still outstretched across the bed, was empty; no fingers returned the pressure”

“just that she hadn’t had nightmares last night, for the first time in so long, and her body was catching up”

“It lay at her feet, a coil of bright metal. She knew what it was before she bent and picked it up. The chain and silver ring that Jace had worn”

“She had rarely seen him without it. A sudden sensation of dread washed over her.”

“I can’t bear the thought of this ring being lost forever, any more than I can bear the thought of leaving you forever. And though I have no choice about the one, at least I can choose about the other.”

“why he had said one night didn’t matter. You could say anything you wanted to someone you thought you were never going to see again.”

“the chain with the ring clasped hastily around her throat”

“she was right. Stepping into the kitchen, Clary felt her eyes widen—Isabelle”

“Now was hardly the time to be worrying about Simon’s love life. “I need to talk to Isabelle.”

“poking at a misshapen object in the bottom of the frying pan that was, Clary feared, a pancake”

“a bright, delicately thin knife was thrust through the coil of her hair, holding it in place. Despite the tableau of domesticity, she was still a Shadowhunter.”

“she couldn’t imagine actually eating the apple, or, in fact, eating anything at all, ever again”

“her panic about Jace overrode every other concern”

“I just would have hoped that he’d have brought Alec with him. Alec won’t be happy.”

“Do you even want to find him? Do you even care that he’s gone off on what’s practically a suicide mission?”

“Can you really see Jace doing that, just sitting around waiting for something awful to happen?”

“Jace is your brother just like Max was,” said Clary, “and you cared what happened to him.”

She regretted it the moment she said it; Isabelle’s face went white”

“Max,” Isabelle said with a tightly controlled fury, “was a little boy, not a fighter—he was nine years old.”

“do you think Alec won’t be in the battle? Do you think we’re not all of us, at all times, prepared to die”

“I will miss him every day,” Isabelle said, “for the rest of my life, which, let’s face it, if Jace fails, will probably be about a week long.”

“with tears. “God, you don’t understand anything, do you? You’ve known Jace what, a month? I’ve known him for seven years.”

“Girls always fell in love with him, but he never cared. I think that’s why Alec thought—”

“then I probably would have thought the same thing, wouldn’t I? I mean, who wouldn’t have been damaged by that?”

“You were the first person outside our family whose happiness I’d ever seen him take into consideration. Because he loved you.”

“I can’t tell what you’re feeling. You’re not my sister.”

“you’re accusing me of not wanting to protect Jace. But I do want to protect him. Why do you think I was so upset when you suddenly showed up”

“but I can’t tell you that, can’t tell you the one thing that would make you understand”

“because of you, he thinks he’s cursed forever. I heard him say so to Alec. Why not risk your life, if you don’t want to live anyway? Why not risk your life if you’ll never be happy no matter what”

“she felt her stomach drop out of her body the way it had when Jace had driven their motorcycle off the edge of the Dumort roof, a ten-story fall.

It was her mother.”

“Jocelyn stepped toward her, reaching her arms out. “Clary—”

“Isabelle stood up, putting herself between Clary and her mother”

“Color came into Jocelyn’s face in a rush. “Of course. You’re Maryse’s daughter.”

“He told me everything you did for me. All I’ve wanted since I woke up was to see you….”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me I had a brother?” Clary said. It wasn’t what she’d expected”

“Sorry?” Clary’s voice rose; it was as if something inside her had torn open”

“If it hadn’t been for Jace and the others, I’d be dead. You never showed me how to protect myself.”

“What did you think? That if I couldn’t see the bad things, that meant they couldn’t see me?”

“You took them away from me. You took away who I was.”

“It doesn’t matter what you wanted!” Clary shouted. “You took all that away from me and it didn’t belong to you!”

“It gave Jace a certain satisfaction to saddle the stallion up and ride him out ”

“Jace liked horses. He’d been ten the last time he’d ridden one, but the memories, he was pleased to note, came back fast.”

“both he and the horse were covered in a light sheen of sweat”

“The gardens, singed at the edges now, still brought back memories of the time he’d lived there as a child”

“he’d “borrowed” it from Alec’s room before he’d left”

“with a single last glance at the ruins of the house he’d grown up in, he gathered up the reins”

“if a part of her had wanted to punish her mother for what had happened to Jace”

“then perhaps the shock of finding out what Valentine had done to him when he was only a baby wouldn’t have driven him to a gesture Clary couldn’t help feeling was close to suicide”

“Go ahead and join me. This mope-fest is open to all.”

“The Downworlders are all coming to the North Gate at twilight. If the Clave agrees, they can come into Alicante. If not…”

“though his voice was light, Clary heard another voice through it. Jace’s”

“if I’d known the truth, I wouldn’t have met Jace the way I did. I wouldn’t have fallen in love with him.”

“That I love him?” She laughed”

“Seems useless to pretend like I don’t, at this point. Maybe it doesn’t matter. I probably won’t ever see him again, anyway.”

“the Downworlders Luke had called to the city’s aid, waiting patiently for word”

“I try to visualize ‘kill Valentine’ or ‘rule the world’ or something, I don’t get any images. Just white noise.”

“I don’t know if it’s something I’m inventing, or something I’m remembering—”

“Runes as old as angels themselves.”

“Besides, I’ve already drunk Jace’s blood—I’ve had enough of feeding off my friends.”

“You with your rune powers, and Jace, well…”

“I don’t dislike Jace,” Simon protested”

“The way he looked at you. I got it then. He was never using you. He loved you, and it was killing him.”

“I’d wake up out of bed, getting dressed, or already on the street, and I knew I wanted to go back to the hotel”

“as long as I remember what it was like to love you, I’ll always feel like I’m alive.”

“The demon towers of Alicante blazed into sudden incandescent life. In their light Clary could see the dark crowd swarming”

“she saw the groups of dark figures surrounding the wards turn and move away”

“Why should their powers be greater than ours? Why can’t we share in what they have?”

“The one she had dreamed of. The rune as simple as a knot.

Why can’t we share in what they have?”

“They say all roads lead to the Hall. Sebastian’s words pounded over and over in Clary’s head and she sprinted”

“You…can’t really say that…since you got here before me anyway.”

“with some satisfaction. “When we get home, I ought to go out for track.”

“Their voices rose in a roar like a crashing avalanche; most of them had gathered into contentious, shouting groups”

“For just a moment she hesitated. Then she thought of Jace, going after Valentine”

“Gasps of surprise? A sea of hushed, expectant faces? They barely noticed her”

“all eyes riveted on her. She heard the whispers running through the crowd: That’s her. Valentine’s daughter.”

“It was clear, strong, and purposeful. The crowd turned, and Clary saw who had spoken: It was Alec. He stood with Isabelle”

“when the truth can so easily be discovered? Give the girl a stele and let her create a rune.”

“Looking at Simon, and thinking of Jace, she brought the stele down”

“His face had gone white, and he was backing away from her with a look of horror”

“I did that with one rune, a single rune, a rune that I created”

“Most of you haven’t seen Valentine in fifteen years. Maybe you’ve forgotten what he’s really like.”

“And a mandate from heaven isn’t something you can just ignore”

“I’d bet he’s not alone in that. It’s easy to be afraid of what you don’t share.” She took a breath. “But what if you could share it?”

“You could be an unbeatable force—if you’ll let me Mark you, and if you’ll fight”

“slowly, very slowly, she lowered her gaze and met the eyes of the crowd staring back at her”

“You’re a vampire, not Spider-Man.”

“That makes you Mary Jane. She has red hair”

“expression bemused. “Well, hello, Simon. Glad to see you’re…adjusting.”

“it’s good to see you here with Clary. I can’t remember the last time you two were apart.”

“it wouldn’t make a difference; she couldn’t keep her eyes closed forever”

“She was, she realized, still holding Patrick Penhallow’s stele. She hoped he didn’t think she’d meant to steal it.”

“I heard them all calling out different names,” Jocelyn said softly. “But I still saw you.”

“I was chasing a sort of dream—something most Shadowhunters could hardly imagine. And now you’ve made it concrete and literal and real.”

“It’s why I hated you going to Pandemonium. I knew it was a place where Downworlders and mundanes mingled”

“it was something in your blood that drew you to the place, something that recognized the shadow world”

“somehow you got to be strong anyway. Strong enough for me to tell you the truth, if you still want to hear it.”

“The Law is hard, but it is the Law. She owed it to Jace to find out the truth”

“you’re looking at me as if I’ve lost my mind. You only know Valentine the way he is now. You can’t imagine what he was like then.”

“what she had said about Valentine giving off light. Clary had thought the same thing about Jace before”

“Everyone thought Valentine was a wonderful boy. And he was, you know, just a boy then.”

“Clary,” Jocelyn said. She sounded tired. “We were happy.”

“It was like being at the center of the world, with all this activity swirling around us, all this passion”

“Valentine could never have been nothing. He was born to be a leader”

“that we should worry less about hiding and more about protecting the world”

“a world full of Shadowhunters, where demons ran scared and mundanes, instead of believing we didn’t exist, thanked us”

“no longer sure she wanted to hear, again, how Valentine had made Jace into a monster”

“You asked me why I never told you that you had a brother. This is why.”

“I was so happy when I found out. And Valentine—he’d always wanted to be a father, he said. To train his son to be a warrior”

“Or your daughter,’ I’d say, and he’d smile and say a daughter could be a warrior just as well”

“He was there on our doorstep in the morning, covered in blood”

“It was Luke, but Valentine pushed me away and dragged Luke down”

“he told me that Luke had killed himself in despair over his lycanthropy. That he was…dead.”

“even now, when she knew Luke hadn’t died. But Clary remembered her own despair when she’d held Simon as he’d died on the steps of the Institute. There were some feelings you never forgot.”

“Jocelyn knotted her hands together in her lap. They were shaking. “And then I had the baby.”

“My mother was with me when the baby was born. You never knew her. Your grandmother. She was such a kind woman. You would have liked her, I think.”

“at first I knew only that he fit perfectly into my arms, that the blanket wrapping him was soft, and that he was so small and delicate, with just a wisp of fair hair on the top of his head. And then he opened his eyes.”

“Horror washed over me. It was all I could do not to drop the baby and begin screaming.”

“The baby opened his eyes again, as if recognizing the sound of his name. His eyes were black, black as night. There was nothing human in them at all.”

“That’s Jace she’s talking about, she thought. Jace when he was a baby. How could you feel like that about a baby?”

“Valentine adored Jonathan. He couldn’t understand what was wrong with me.”

“He says I told him I could hear screams through the walls of the manor, that I suspected something”

“Luke—trusting Luke—asked Valentine about it the very next day. That night Valentine took Luke hunting, and he was bitten.”

“I wanted so badly to tell him about Jonathan, but I couldn’t, I couldn’t. Jonathan was my son.”

“I would make a new effort with Jonathan, would learn to love him. Would make myself love him.”

“I dashed down the hall to his room, but he was sleeping silently. Still, I could hear a baby crying”

“I never told you the story of Bluebeard’s wife, did I, when you were a little girl?”

“If I had to do it again, would I be able to bring myself to open the door”

“The smell—oh, the smell down there, like blood and death and rot”

“I don’t think of him as a torturer. Not really. He seemed to be pursuing an almost scientific end.”

“There was one vampire whose skin he had burned off over and over again to see if there was a point beyond which the poor creature”

“He had tried injecting himself with the blood, to no end. Nothing had happened except that he had made himself sick.”

“he had written a series of notes with a heading I recognized. My name. Jocelyn Morgenstern.”

“the sound like a mighty bell, tolling the beginning of a new generation of Shadowhunters, the blood of angels and demons mixed to produce powers beyond any previously imagined”

“the nightmares about being stabbed, choked, poisoned. But I wasn’t the one he’d been poisoning. It was Jonathan.”

“And that, Clary—that was when I realized what Valentine really was.”

“It was horrible—so horrible—and yet it all matched up with the vision Ithuriel had showed her”

“Jonathan—she couldn’t think of him as Jace, not with her mother there, not with the story so fresh in her mind—doomed to be not quite human”

“Once I realized what Valentine was planning—the wholesale slaughter of Downworlders—I knew I couldn’t let it happen”

“I couldn’t let anyone else know what had been done to Jonathan either. Despite everything, he was still my child.”

“I did tell Luke about the horrors in the cellar, of my conviction that Valentine was losing his mind”

“Valentine, I mean. He didn’t figure out what you were doing?”

Jocelyn shook her head. “When people love you, they trust you.”

“I would bring him over to Maryse Lightwood’s house, let him play with her baby son, Alec. Sometimes Céline Herondale would join us—”

“Your husband is so kind,’ she would tell me. ‘He is so concerned about Stephen and me. He gives me potions and mixtures for the health of the baby”

“I kept my mouth shut. And then—”

“She killed herself”

“was it because of what Valentine did to her?”

“Valentine actually did seem distraught over their deaths. He vanished for almost an entire day afterward, and came home bleary-eyed”

“I wondered how I would withstand torture, whether I could hold up against it. I was terribly afraid that I couldn’t.”

“I realized there was one person I could tell, one person who hated Valentine enough that she’d never betray me”

“can’t you guess? The second reason is that I was pregnant again. Pregnant with you.”

“He would have followed me to the ends of the earth, because I belonged to him and he would never have let me go. And maybe I would have let him come after me, and taken my chances, but I would never have let him come after you.”

“It was why I did what I did. I thought it was the only way to protect you—taking your memories”

“Jace isn’t like that. He’s nothing like that. If you knew him—if you could just meet him—”

“there are things I never knew, things I only just discovered. And they may be very hard to hear.”

“I was just glad you weren’t there when your father—when Valentine and his demons broke into our apartment. I just had time to swallow the potion—I could hear them breaking the door down…”

“yet he would sit by the bed while I slept and talk to me.”

“Our marriage. How he had loved me and I had betrayed him. How he hadn’t loved anyone since.”

“He wanted to tell me he was sorry for what he’d done to Jonathan before he’d been born, because he knew it had nearly destroyed me.”

“I know where he got hold of angel blood, Clary thought, thinking of Ithuriel”

“So while it may have affected me slightly, it affected you much more. I believe that’s why you can do what you can with runes.”

“nothing he can do to himself would have the kind of profound effect on him it would have on you or Jonathan”

“Valentine told me that Jonathan really was all those things. But that he was also cruel and amoral and strangely empty.”

“in trying to create a child who was superior to others, he’d created a son who could never really love him.”

“Clary thought of Jace, of the way he’d looked at Renwick’s, the way he’d clutched that piece of the broken Portal so hard that blood had run down his fingers”

“Jace is not like that. He does love Valentine. He shouldn’t, but he does. And he isn’t empty.”

“I am not,” Jocelyn said, “talking about Jace.”

“The night Céline Herondale died, she was eight months pregnant.”

“hoping that Stephen’s child would be as strong and powerful as he suspected Jonathan would be, but without Jonathan’s worse qualities”

“with Hodge’s help he cut the baby out of Céline’s stomach. She’d only been dead a short time—”

“So Jace,” Clary whispered. “Jace is not my brother?”

She felt her mother squeeze her hand—a sympathetic squeeze. “No, Clary. He’s not.”

“Then whose bones were those in the fire? Luke said there were a child’s bones—”

Jocelyn shook her head. “Those were Michael Wayland’s bones, and his son’s”

“Valentine brought Jace up in the Wayland manor, and Jonathan in the house near the lake.”

“Jace never knew about Jonathan, though Jonathan may have known about Jace. They never met, though they probably lived only miles from each other.”

“Jace isn’t cursed. The opposite, if anything. All Shadowhunters have some of the Angel’s blood in them—you two just have a bit more.”

“She tried to imagine Valentine raising two children at the same time, one part demon, one part angel. One shadow boy, and one light. Loving them both, perhaps, as much as Valentine could love”

“what had the other boy known about him? His complementary part, his opposite?”

“Been indifferent? They had both been so alone. And one of them was her brother—her real, full-blooded brother.”

“Valentine told me he had spent years teaching Jonathan how to appear pleasant, even charming. He wanted him to be a spy”

“I’m telling you this so you won’t feel bad that you were taken in. Clary, you’ve met Jonathan. He just never told you his real name, because he was posing as someone else. Sebastian Verlac.”

“She thought of the way she’d felt the first time she’d seen him, as if she were recognizing someone she’d known all her life”

“She had never felt that way about Jace. “Sebastian’s my brother?”

“Sebastian had destroyed the wards, though he had no idea how. I realized then who Sebastian really was.”

“a little older than you, fair-haired and dark-eyed, with no apparent parents, utterly loyal to Valentine—I couldn’t help but think he must be Jonathan”

“It was his way of bringing down the wards,” Jocelyn said. “You can’t bring a demon into Alicante, but you need demons’ blood to take down the wards. Jonathan has demon blood”

“his being a Shadowhunter means he’s granted automatic entrance to the city. He used his own blood to take the wards down, I’m sure of it.”

“The way he’d said it was impossible that Valentine had ever loved Jace. She’d thought it was because he hated Valentine. But it wasn’t, she realized. He’d been…jealous.”

“now she wondered if it was the tie of their shared blood that had driven her to give the unhappy hero of her story her brother’s face”

“She could only see Sebastian now, the red light of the burning city reflected in his eyes”

“Jace,” she said. “Someone has to tell him. Has to tell him the truth.”

“if Jace had known, known he didn’t have demon blood, maybe he wouldn’t have gone after Valentine. If he’d known he wasn’t Clary’s brother after all…”

“there was a lightness about him that hadn’t been there before. He seemed almost relieved.”

“He shook his head. “No. For a change, something’s right.” He smiled at Clary”

“even proud. “You did it, Clary,” he said. “The Clave’s agreed to let you Mark them. There will be no surrender after all.”

“After securing Wayfarer to a tree, Jace took the bloody thread”

“Instead he saw only darkness.

His heart began to pound.”

“in a fit of desperate anger, his fist; the wind picked up the thread and carried it away, so fast that even if he’d regretted it immediately he couldn’t have caught it back”

“Not that that helped Jace much. It wasn’t as if he could go to every lake in the country and see if Sebastian was floating around”

“gave Wayfarer a brisk pat on the neck, and headed down”

“his hands were bloody where he’d fallen onto the loose gravel”

“easier to search the house if no one was in it. On the other hand, no one was in it.”

“Jace’s stomach tightened—the runes looked like the ones that had been carved around Ithuriel’s feet”

“Jace knew his first instinct had been right. This wasn’t just any raven—this was Hugo”

“His heart was pounding again, this time with excitement. If Hugo was here”

“It would be for Valentine. It had to be. If Jace could only manage to follow him—”

“realizing that the house was empty, the bird rose into the air with an irritable caw”

“even though Jace isn’t actually related to you, you have kissed your brother.”

“Simon!” Clary was appalled. “Shut UP.”

“the Hall was chaos as the Downworlders who had come from the North Gate poured in”

“mostly hissed under her breath as he’d helped her plow through the crowds”

“Or maybe it was just gross, because he was, you know, your brother.” Simon seemed more amused by the whole business”

“It was weird thinking that her mother was something of a legendary figure here”

“everyone in the room had heard her name and had some kind of opinion”

“Malachi seemed to think that wouldn’t be sporting, and I told him war wasn’t an English schoolboy cricket game”

“It’s Malachi. He’s probably worried you’ll start eating each other.”

“He wore a tunic of white armor: pale, hard metal made of tiny overlapping circles, like the scales of a fish”

“I just need something to write on—some paper.”

“I asked you if you needed anything,” Jocelyn said under her breath”

“a crumpled flyer for his band’s performance”

“absurdly as if she were in school and showing off some sort of presentation”

“Start circulating the rune,” he said. “Show the Nephilim how it works.”

“It’s not from the Gray Book. It’s safe, I promise.”

The faerie knight looked unimpressed.”

“The Shadowhunter who Marks you will be your partner, and I’m not fighting in the battle.”

“I assumed,” Magnus said, “that you two would be partners, since you’re practically married anyway.”

“she took his wrist to steady it; Luke looked down at her”

“she felt a pang of sadness. She wondered if her mother even knew that Luke loved her”

“Meliorn?” said Clary. “I’ve met you, haven’t I? You used to go out with Isabelle Lightwood.”

“He was totally dating Isabelle,” Simon said, “and she dumped him too. At least she said she was going to. Tough break, man.”

“a wise and careful people. Any scheme that draws their ire draws my suspicions.”

“Clary saw a familiar figure cut a path across the room—Isabelle, her black hair swinging”

“Jocelyn was saying something to Meliorn, who was looking at her with something approaching alarm”

“I need you to tell her and Alec what my mother told me. About Jace and who he really is, and Sebastian. They have to know.”

“Tell them to come and talk to me as soon as they can. Please, Simon.”

“Clary leaned forward and said quietly, “Thanks, by the way. For everything you did for my mom.”

“Done what anyone would have done. What I would have done if it were someone I cared about.”

“I know humanity’s ways. I’ve been alive a long time.”

“wished he could swear out loud, but Hugo would be sure to hear him”

“Isabelle reached out for her brother’s hand. “Alec, did you hear what Simon said? Jace isn’t Valentine’s son. He never was.”

“Simon had been worried he’d have to explain the whole business to them, too, but they’d nicely allowed him a few minutes”

“he was the Inquisitor’s grandson,” Alec said. “That must be why she—”

“It’s like a cotillion, this partners business, except with killing.”

“Alec, that’s a werewolf. A girl werewolf.”

“Simon smiled back. Isabelle glowered. Simon stopped smiling hastily”

“Well, you have to get drawn on, then”

“Maia looked perplexed. “Wait a second,” she said. “Do we all have to do that, too?”

“Amazing, isn’t it?” Luke said. He stood at the edge of the dais, looking down”

“she wished Jace were here to see what was happening. She couldn’t put aside her fear for him”

“might risk his life because he thought he was cursed—that he might die without ever knowing it wasn’t true—”

“She had forgotten how slight he was. He looked barely fourteen as he climbed the stairs, his thin face calm and angelic, like a choirboy”

“I cannot shake hands with you, werewolf.” When Luke looked offended, he smiled. “I am a Projection”

“Many of the Night Children fought very bravely then. Does your presence here indicate that we might fight alongside each other once again?”

“Is is the boy Simon that we want,” he said. “It is the Daylighter.”

“the light struck them that he recognized them.

Sebastian.

And Valentine.”

“And Isabelle seemed calm about it. No crying, no hysterics. It was as if she’d expected it. Maybe she had.”

“But that is not the issue. He is a vampire, one of my own, and I am asking for him back.”

“No vampire should have the power he has,” he said, “just as no Shadowhunter should have the power that you and your brother do.”

“Then have no part in it,” said Luke. “I won’t buy your cooperation with an innocent life.”

“If you lay one hand on Simon, vampire, I’ll have you chopped up into tiny pieces and fed to my cat.”

“Jace felt as he always did now when he thought of his father—a persistent familial affection corroded through with bleakness”

“An odd pang went through Jace, seeing the raven in the posture that had become so familiar to him over the years”

“The sound of his father’s voice, cool and unruffled as ever, went through Jace like an arrow”

“Sebastian moved forward and put a hand on Valentine’s arm. There was something about that touch—something intimate”

“No one touched Valentine like that. Even he would not have”

“Valentine sighed. “This is ugly necessity, nothing to take delight in.”

Jonathan? Jace clutched at the rock”

“Just hearing Sebastian say Clary’s name made Jace’s heart skip a sudden, painful beat”

“If she can show the Clave her power…”

Jace felt a flash of fear for Clary, mixed with an odd sort of pride”

“of course she was at the center of things. That was his Clary.”

“You underestimate her, I think,” Valentine said quietly”

“Power doesn’t have to be unlimited to be deadly,” Valentine said.”

“And as for Hodge, perhaps you might show a bit more reserve regarding his death, since you’re the one who killed him.”

“All those years he looked after Jace in the Institute and must have wondered what it was he was raising. Hodge was one of the few who knew there was more than one boy.”

“I can’t go to the lake with you?” Sebastian’s voice had taken on a distinct whining”

“I gave my word. I’ll stand by it.” Valentine’s tone was final.”

“Future generations must know how quickly the Clave lost, and how decisive our victory was.”

“To Jace’s bafflement, Valentine touched the side of Sebastian’s face, a quick, undisguisedly affectionate gesture”

“Jonathan,” he called back, and Jace glanced up, unable to help himself. “You will look upon the Angel’s face someday.”

“his face a white mask in the dim light. “You might as well come out, Jace,” he said. “I know you’re here.”

“He ran for the tunnel entrance, thinking only of making it outside, of getting a message, somehow”

#quotes #the mortal instruments

0 notes

lovenotesxcitygirls · 2 months ago

Text

Why Marriage Isn’t a Goal (At Least, Not Mine)

Why Marriage Isn’t the Goal (At Least Not for Me)

Here’s the deal: If you’re a woman, someone, somewhere, is always waving the idea of marriage in your face like it’s the golden ticket to happiness. “If you don’t act right, you’ll end up alone,” they say, as if being single is a fate worse than death. Like marriage is this shiny carrot dangling over our heads, meant to keep us obedient, quiet, and desperate. But here’s the thing—what happens after the carrot? You get married, and then what?

The truth is, marriage isn’t the one-size-fits-all life goal it’s made out to be. For many, it’s not the key to happiness or fulfillment—and that’s okay.

It’s time to rethink how we view marriage.

The Reality Behind the Ring

Let’s keep it real—33% of marriages end in divorce, and that’s not even counting the folks staying in relationships that feel more like obligation than love. For some, marriage becomes a heavy weight, filled with unmet expectations and uneven emotional labor. Research shows women are more likely to file for divorce, often because they’re tired of partnerships that demand everything from them and offer little in return.

The issue isn’t marriage itself—it’s the societal pressure to treat it as the ultimate goal. The wedding ring? It’s supposed to symbolize love and mutual respect, but too often, it’s treated like a trophy for playing by society’s rules. Without effort and respect, it’s just a piece of jewelry.

The Married Men Chronicles

Let’s talk about this unspoken truth: some of the most “single” men you’ll ever meet are married men. The flirty coworker, the guy in your DMs, the one spinning tales about how “different” you are—only for you to find out he’s got a wife and three kids at home. Sir, please.

I’ve been there. Like the man who swore he was divorced (he wasn’t) or the guy whose “spontaneity” turned out to be squeezing me into his already packed family schedule. Bonus round: running into him with his wife and still catching him trying to shoot his shot. Embarrassing—for him, not me.

These experiences taught me one thing: marriage doesn’t always mean what we think it does. For some, it’s a contract of convenience with promises no one plans to keep. The truth is, a wedding ring isn’t a shield against bad behavior—it’s just a shiny circle of metal.

Marriage Pressures Aren’t Just for Women (Thanks, Candi Staton)

While women often bear the brunt of societal pressure to marry, men aren’t off the hook either. They’re told they need to “settle down” to be seen as responsible or successful, often tying their worth to financial provision. These pressures harm everyone by forcing us into roles that might not align with who we are.

This is where Young Hearts Run Free by Candi Staton becomes the ultimate anthem. Staton, inspired by her own toxic marriage, turned her heartbreak into a declaration of independence: "Young hearts, to yourself be true / Don’t be no fool when love really don’t love you."

The song didn’t just resonate with women trapped in bad relationships. It became a hit in gay clubs, where its message of breaking free from societal norms struck a chord with LGBTQ+ communities often told their love wasn’t valid. Staton’s anthem was a disco-fueled rejection of conformity and an ode to living authentically, no matter what the world expects of you.

Her message is still relevant today. Too many people stay in relationships that don’t serve them because society frames marriage as the ultimate validation. But let’s be clear: leaving a situation that doesn’t honor your worth isn’t failure—it’s strength. As Staton’s lyrics remind us, life is too short to be tied to a love that doesn’t love you back.

The Wedding Obsession

Let’s be honest: some people don’t want a marriage—they want a wedding. The Pinterest boards, the designer dress, the viral Instagram post. But what happens when the guests leave, and you’re left with the reality of sharing a life with someone, bad habits and all?

Here’s the thing: a wedding is one day. A marriage, if done right, is a lifetime commitment that requires effort, patience, and communication. Chasing the fantasy of a perfect day without thinking about the long haul is like training for a marathon by shopping for sneakers instead of running. It’s setting yourself up for disappointment.

Society glorifies weddings as the ultimate celebration of success, but it rarely talks about the work it takes to build a thriving marriage—or the fact that meaningful relationships don’t always require rings and vows. Let’s normalize the idea that weddings are optional, and relationships come in many forms.

Marriage for the Wrong Reasons

Too often, people marry for reasons that have nothing to do with love or compatibility. Some feel societal pressure to follow a timeline. Others stay in toxic relationships, hoping a ring will magically fix what’s broken. Spoiler alert: it won’t.

Some endure public humiliation, private heartbreak, and years of betrayal just to walk down the aisle. Y’all are stronger than me—I’d be curating a revenge playlist instead of planning a wedding. But here’s the truth: a wedding ring doesn’t fix cracks in a foundation. Without trust, respect, and love, it’s just a band.

Marriage Can Be Empowering—for the Right Reasons

Let’s be clear: for many, marriage is a beautiful, empowering choice. It can be a celebration of love, culture, or faith—a meaningful milestone when chosen freely. The issue isn’t marriage itself but the way society frames it as a universal goal. Not everyone needs to—or wants to—walk that path, and that’s okay.

Connection > Completion

Society loves to tell women they’re incomplete without a spouse, but that’s a lie. The real flex is building relationships—romantic or otherwise—that nurture safety, growth, and joy. Marriage should be a byproduct of love and connection, not a checkbox on your “perfect life” bingo card.

What Marriage Should Be: Partnership, Not Perfection

At its best, marriage is a partnership built on mutual respect, trust, and accountability. But it’s not the finish line or a trophy. It’s a starting point for ongoing growth and effort.

Let’s shift the narrative. Let’s celebrate relationships that uplift us, whether or not they come with rings, ceremonies, or legal paperwork.

The Practical Side of Marriage

Marriage does come with perks—shared healthcare, tax breaks, and spousal rights during emergencies. But these benefits shouldn’t be the sole motivation to marry. For many, lack of access to these rights as single or nontraditional individuals reinforces the societal pressure to tie the knot.

It’s worth asking why these rights aren’t available outside of marriage and advocating for systems that don’t make partnership a requirement for basic support.

A Life Beyond the Carrot

Here’s the truth: marriage isn’t the only path to a fulfilling life. Whether your journey involves travel, career, friendships, or quiet independence, all paths are valid. We are whole as we are.

For me, the goal isn’t marriage—it’s building a life where I feel at home. If that includes a partner, great. If not, I’m still thriving.

Because happiness doesn’t come from a ring; it comes from living authentically and on your own terms.

And if you ever need a reminder, take it from Candi Staton: "Run free—don’t be no fool."

The real prize isn’t the carrot—it’s the freedom to choose your own path.

“Marriage and Divorce”. CDC, www.cdc,gov/nvhs/fastats/marriage-divorce.htm, 2022.

#Spotify #dating #love #dating in 2024 #dating is the worst #dating in your 30s #lovecore

0 notes

extasiswings · 2 years ago

Text

rewind the tape (pause)

I’m blaming @yramesoruniverse for this one. And apologizing in advance. Spec fic for Cursed. On ao3 here.

There are many things Buck never expected to happen in his life.

Growing up in Pennsylvania, he never thought he would end up in Los Angeles. After getting kicked out of college, he wasn’t sure he would ever find a place, a career, that made him feel truly fulfilled.

He never anticipated that he would find a family, find a purpose. At least, not to the extent he has.

Eddie. Christopher. The life they’ve built together.

But more than anything else? He definitely never thought he’d see the day when Eddie showed up on his doorstep and kissed him senseless.

And yet.

Eddie said: “I love you.”

Eddie said: “Be with me.”

Eddie said: “It’s not a mistake,” and, “Let me make you happy,” and, “Take your time.”

And afterwards, Eddie hadn’t pushed, hadn’t pressured him, hadn’t let anything change—hell, Eddie hadn’t even kissed him again. True to his word, he’d simply…given Buck time to think.

And Buck—

Buck had finally said, “Okay.”

On one condition.

Which is why he’s sitting in the parking lot at the beach, trying to breathe through the panic threatening to strangle him as he waits for Christopher’s surfing lesson to end. Because if he and Eddie are going to do this—as terrified as he is of fucking it up—then it needs to at least start off on the right foot.

No secrets. No lies.

If he and Eddie are going to do this, if they’re going to be in a real relationship? Then Buck needs them to be in it in front of Christopher.

So. They’re telling him today.

Buck’s phone buzzes in the cupholder.

I’ve spent enough time in that jeep to recognize it, Eddie texts.

Stop freaking out. Everything’s going to be fine.

I love you.

Buck’s heart squeezes painfully.

Eddie is so comfortable with this. So confident. So sure. So…unafraid.

Buck wishes he had half of Eddie’s sense of ease.

For his part, he hasn’t even been able to say it back. I love you.

It’s stupid. It’s only three words. He said them to Taylor, and his feelings for her didn’t hold a candle to his feelings for Eddie.

But, he can’t seem to manage it.

He feels too much, is the problem. Too much love, too much fear, too much doubt.

It overwhelms.

But he said yes. He’s saying yes. So he just…needs to get out of the car.

“You know you probably jinxed us with that,” Buck calls when he’s close enough to catch Eddie’s eyes across the remaining sand. “Insisting it’ll be fine—that’s like saying the q-word on shift.”

Eddie laughs and holds out his hand. Buck only hesitates a little before taking it.

“Jinxes still aren’t real,” Eddie replies. “And Christopher loves you. Even if it’s weird at first, he’ll be fine.”

Buck forces a smile, his stomach in knots. “I hope you’re right.”

As they watch, Christopher washes back into shore with his instructor, a bright grin on his face.

“Dad! Did you see me?”

“Yeah, buddy,” Eddie calls back. “You look great.”

A moment later, Christopher starts to make his way over to them. Buck takes a step forward and his eyes light up.

“Buck—dad didn’t tell me you were coming.”

“Well, I wanted to surprise you,” Buck manages. Fuck, he feels like he could throw up.

Christopher opens his mouth, but then freezes. The smile drops off his lips, the light goes out of his eyes, and his face shutters.

Buck follows the direction of his gaze—oh.

Eddie is still holding his hand.

Buck snatches it away on instinct, panic flaring again.

“Chris—”

“How could you?” It’s bitter, accusing, and at first Buck thinks it’s directed at Eddie. But Christopher’s eyes meet his instead, wide and brimming with betrayal, and the world drops out from underneath him.

“You promised,” Chris says. “You said you were my friend. You said you weren’t going anywhere.”

“Christopher, I’m <em>not</em> going anywhere,” Buck insists. “Why would you think—”

“Because that’s what always happens! You can’t date each other—Something will go wrong and dad won’t fix it and then you’ll leave, just like mom!”

Eddie sucks in a sharp breath at Buck’s side, but Buck barely hears it. It’s like watching a car crash in slow motion, seeing it from outside his body and not being able to do a damn thing about it.

“That’s not fair,” Eddie says quietly, his voice steady even as his face reveals that he’s visibly shaken. “Chris—this is nothing like—I’m not going to make the same mistakes again. You don’t have to worry about that.”

But Christopher doesn’t look at Eddie—his eyes stay fixed on Buck, and it’s like he sees, like he knows every thought, every doubt in Buck’s mind.

“You lied,” he says, and Buck feels it like a slap.

“I didn’t.” His voice cracks. “I swear I didn’t. You can trust me. I’m not going anywhere.”

“For now.”

“No, never.” At his side, Eddie starts to take a step forward, but Buck puts out a hand to stop him. He looks over, catches Eddie’s gaze—Buck sees both the realization of what he’s about to do and the accompanying resignation creep across Eddie’s face just before he adds—

“Nothing’s going to change, because we’re not going to date, okay? If you don’t want me to be with your dad like that, then I won’t.”

“Buck,” Eddie sighs, and look, Buck gets it, but his every instinct is screaming at him to either run away or fix this, and running would just make it worse, so…he’s taking the path of least resistance.

Christopher chews his lip for a long moment, before nodding once and giving them his back.

“I’ll be at the car,” he mutters, and Buck wants to follow him, but he’s pretty sure he’s done enough damage for one day.

Eddie is quiet as they track Christopher across the sand.

“I wish you hadn’t said that,” he says finally.

“It’s not the right time,” Buck replies. “You saw how upset he was—“

“Yes, I did. And clearly there are some unresolved feelings about a lot of things that I didn’t realize he was dealing with that warrant a much longer discussion and maybe a few more sessions with his therapist. But Buck…”

Eddie scrubs a hand over his face and then rakes it through his hair.

“Part of being a parent? Is knowing there are times when he’s going to be mad at you,” he points out. “And sometimes—a lot of the time, actually—you’re going to have to let him be. You can’t fix the real problem by just giving him whatever he wants.”

“Why not?” Buck argues. “I told you I couldn’t do this if he wasn’t on board—what we have? You and me? And what I have with him? It’s too important. I’m not going to fuck that up by moving too fast when everything is fine the way it is!”

“He’s scared,” Eddie replies. “So are you. So am I, for that matter. The difference is, I’m willing to be scared together.”

The way Eddie’s looking at him, frustration mixed with fond exasperation, makes Buck feel too exposed.

“I’m not a coward.”

“I didn’t say you were.” Eddie shrugs. “Look, I promised I could wait until you were ready and I meant it. I’ll wait as long as it takes. But I’m not going to let you lie to me or to yourself in the meantime. And what just happened? That was not about Christopher, that was not for him. That was for you.”

He turns his gaze back to where Christopher is a fair bit of the way to the parking lot.

“I should go.”

Buck swallows hard. He wants to sink into the ground.

“Yeah.”

“I love you,” Eddie says. “I’m going to keep saying it until you believe me.”

“I do believe you. I just—” It’s me I don’t trust.

Eddie nods. “See you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow.”

And then Eddie is gone, following Christopher across the sand, and Buck is left alone. Alone on a beach, watching the waves crash against the shore. Alone.

He said Eddie jinxed them, but if Buck’s honest, he doesn’t think that’s it.

It’s him. He’s pretty sure he’s just cursed.

Because somehow, no matter how far he comes, how much he grows, how much work he does, he always seems to end up right back here.

#chapel writes #buddie #buddie fic #the buckley-diaz family #911 fic #911 speculation

147 notes · View notes

chocolate-milk-fanfics · 3 years ago

Text

Becoming Athanasia's step mother would include

In the event of you being Claude's first love, your disappearance at a young age cause his first heart break. He was around 17 when it happened while you were about 16. The two of you were to be wed after your 18 birthday. But before that could happen you were kidnapped. It was a huge point of gossip for his kingdom and yours. You were beloved by all after. And your family was heartbroken, especially since it was assumed you were dead. Your carriage was completely destroyed, the guards and horses dead, in all there was no evidence for them to believe you were alive.

Until Almost 10 years later there was a tip on your whereabouts. And word of children with. Turns out you were pregnant at the time of your kidnapping and it didn't take a genius to see who the father way.

Once found don't expect any freedom.

Like seriously, in your kingdom you'll have atleast 10 guards with you at all to and 7 maids skilled in hand to hand combat.

In Claude's?? Hohohoho

Mans has you locked away in the royal medical wing of his palace with your kids. With multiple trainer healers, guards, and maids at your disposal.

Don't expect to be able to use the bathroom in peace

Seriously.

Don't

Claude must have it engraved in his head that you'll get taken from him again while taking a shit

But I digress, you know he means well and after catching up with Felix you also know he's lost a lot of people near and dear to him and has be betrayed.

Only once the two of you are married(in secret)and your twins gain legitimacy does he allow you to explore the palaces like the old days.

But for some reason your heart clenches whenever you see the Ruby palace.

Claude assures you that no one important lives there, meaning mistresses.

But then you see a head of blonde hair walking around

You saw Athanasia before Claude did. But she didn't see you. You just watched in curiously as she hid bags in the ground.

She reminded you of a puppy in all honesty. And only once she's gone do you dig it back up to see it's filled with treasure

"What the hell is a baby doing with all this?"

You found the young girl quite cute and mentally promised to introduce yourself next time.

The next time you see her, you were playing with your twins outside of Claude's palace. The ball ended up going to far.

Humming softly to yourself you turned the corner to see Felix and Claude glaring down at something small.

You threw the ball toward your kids and then approached.

When you saw the familiar head of blonde hair you giggled and smiled.

"Well hello there little one. It seems we meet again."

At this point another bag of treasure drops from under her skirt causing you laugh.

"And I see you're hiding treasure once more. I do wonder what for though."

Athanasia looks at you in both fear and awe. "I like shiny things."

"You do don't you?" You giggled as you leaned down to pick the young girl up. You held her with such care that Athanasia couldn't help but to mold into you, using your chest as a head rest.

"Are you an angel"

"No, my love. But it seems like you're quite the flirt"

Claude watches as you talk to Athanasia in both shock and relief. He wanted to forget her and her mother so much, but seeing you hold the young princess and talk to her so lovingly made him realize he didn't have to.

Athy later finds out that you're her step mother and is shocked at the additional family members.

On Athy's 6th birthday is when you officially ask to be her mother. But you didn't do it in public, so it didn't seem like she was being pressured.

"I know you have a mother near and dear to your heart. And by no means am I trying to replace her, but I wish to be your mother as well if you'll allow it."

The little girl cried so hard your dress was completely soaked.

You cried a little too

But it was unbeknownst to you that Claude was listening from outside the door, a lone tear escaping him.

He never expected his life to turn out like this. But he was happy nonetheless, a feeling he hasn't felt in almost 7 years.

Now you're a big, whole, family

But that doesn't mean you're not under lock and key.

The twins can move around as they please with Athy but you weren't allowed out without escorts and guards.

Even worse if the palace had visitors.

It wasn't until the twins debutant ball did your existence become known to outsiders. You and Claude danced with all your kids. Much to the shock of the nobles present.

Now that the existence of an Empress is known security is even stronger than before, but you are able to roam as you please.

Cue tea parties with kids

"Lunch dates" in Claude's office

Another unplanned pregnancy

All in all if you can get passed the obvious overprotective, possessive, and obsessive nature of Claude once your back at his side then this new chapter of your life is quite happy.

#claude de alger obelia #claude de alger obelia x reader #claude de alger obelia x race neutral reader #claude de alger obelia x black reader #race neutral reader #black reader #black!reader #yandere #yandere claude #athanasia de alger obelia #x black reader #who made me a princess #wmmap #wmmap claude #wmmap x reader #wmmap claude x reader

2K notes · View notes

h0tchner · 3 years ago

Text

Any Age, Any Day, Anywhere (Part 1) - aaron hotchner x fem!reader

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: WRITTEN FOR AN ANON REQUEST: "ok hi so u already wrote a jealous reader and was wondering whats your take on jealous hotch? i mostly see him in fics as possessive and yeah being the leader type i would think he could also be possessive but i also think that he would just be sad like ya know he doubts himself as we saw in some episodes and i think he would need assurance and a lot of convincing that u only love him but if you’ve given that to him then thats the time he would be possessive and god i would love to imagine a possessive and feral aaron hotchner"

word count: 3.5k

includes: kissing, so much freaking adorable fluff, talk of body insecurities, insecure!hotch, protective!hotch, wifey reader, super brief mentions of pregnancy, alcohol, confrontation with a drunk asshole (derek & hotch are all over it tho dw), party at papa rossi's!, smut to come in next chapter...

rating: 18+ (technically there is no smut in this part, but there are adult themes such as drinking, kissing, etc.).

a/n: HELLO BESTIES! This is part one of a two-part fic! The next part will be pure filth, so keep your eyes peeled for some feral hotch content... ALSO! PLS (!!!!!!!!!!!) interact if you liked this, rb, comment, like and/or send me a request if you have ideas for future fics! i love y’all! - rivka💞

“Aaron! Can you come here for a sec?” you call out to your husband from the bathroom, muttering curses under your breath as you try (and fail) for the third time to zip up the back of your black cocktail dress.

“Sure, I just need a minute,” he replies from the bedroom closet, securing the last opalescent button on the arm of his white dress shirt. He looks at himself in the closet mirror, zeroing in at the bags under his eyes and the sprinkling of grey in his stubble. He looks… tired. Tired and old. And he hates it.

Even though Aaron is only in his late-40s, he has lived lifetimes; years of working as Unit Chief of the BAU will do that to a man. Every horror he’s seen and every person he’s lost has weighed on his body and mind. In the past few months, amidst work changes and a new baby, he’s been exhausted and in fear that he’s letting himself go. Of course, being the stoic man that he is, he’s done his absolute best to hide these feelings from you. Tonight, however, he doesn’t know if he can. It’ll be your first night out together as a couple since welcoming baby girl Hotchner to the family four months ago. With no pressing family or work distractions, he just knows that you’ll be able to sense his apprehensions. It’s only a matter of when.

Taking in a breath, he turns a little to the side, frowning at his profile. Aaron winces a little at his “dad bod,” but quickly recovers from the discomfort, milliseconds after it flashes across his face.

“Aaron Hotchner get your handsome butt in here and help me zip my dress! We’re gonna be late,” you exclaim, trying one last time to reach the zipper before giving up and crossing your arms in defeat. You lean back lightly against the countertop facing the door, letting the fabric slip off your shoulders, and wait for your husband to rescue you from the hell that is this dress.

At the sound of your voice, Aaron snaps out of his trance. He shakes his head lightly, as if to physically erase the intrusive thoughts, and clears his throat. Grabbing his suit jacket off the hanger, he flicks off the closet light and closes the door behind him.

Languidly, he meanders from the closet toward the bathroom. He drags his feet a little longer than he normally would, still feeling off and a little bit shy about his appearance.

“Aaron,” you sing, “I’m waiting for –,” your jaw drops mid-sentence when Aaron appears in the doorway.

“Oh fuck,” you breathe out before you can stop yourself, eyes widening at the sight of the gorgeous man in front of you.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, crossing over to you, searching your face for any ounce of reprieve.

“Nothing, nothing’s wrong,” you’re quick to reply, standing from your leaning position to meet him, holding out your hands.

He takes them in his own, cocking his head slightly, his soft hazel eyes boring into yours.

You shift forward, moving up on your toes to peck his soft pink lips.

He sighs into the kiss, feeling the warmth of your lips against his own. It feels so good that it almost makes him forget about how he is feeling… almost. But the dark thoughts come back, and he pulls away from you a bit, reluctantly.

Aaron clears his throat.

“You called me?” He questions, but it sounds more like a fact.

“Yeah,” you give his hands a squeeze. “I needed you to zip up my dress, but now,” you lean in again, “I kinda want you to rip it off me.” You offer him a sultry smirk, moving your hands up to rest on his broad chest. He moves his hands to settle on your hips.

You lick your lips and let your eyes rake over his body, taking in every ounce of his sexy frame. The way his crisp, white dress shirt hugs his solid body makes you go weak in the knees. His strong, toned legs in those black dress pants? Yes please. His soft black hair and salt and pepper stubble on his face are practically begging to be touched. He looks good. Damn good.

“You look…” you pause, tapping a finger lightly against his pectoral, searching for the right word, “…delicious.”

Aaron blushes lightly at your ogling, offering you a sad smile as he squeezes his eyes shut out of embarrassment.

You sense the falter in his demeanor, knowing that there’s something else nagging at him far beyond his usual flustering when you vocalize your attraction to him.

“Honey,” you implore, looping your hands around his neck to bring his forehead down to touch yours. “What’s going on in that big, beautiful brain of yours?”

“It’s nothing,” he mutters, swallowing, rubbing soft circles into your sides.

“It’s something,” you counter, carding a hand through his hair at the nape of his neck. You scratch lightly at his scalp, waiting for him to speak. You’ve learned that the best thing to do when Aaron gets in a mood is to give him some time to gather his thoughts. Keeping him close, physically, is a way to show him some comfort without pressuring him to speak. It encourages him, without words, that your arms are a safe place.

“I don’t…” he starts, and then stops himself. His dark eyebrows furrow and his mouth presses into a thin line.

“Mhm?” you question, fingers still tangled in his thick, black locks.

He pulls his forehead away from yours and locks eyes with you. You let your hands be still now, a silent gesture to show him that you’re listening.

He takes in a breath.

“I don’t look the way I used to,” he says quietly, shifting his eyes away from yours.

“What do you mean,” you urge him to continue.

“I mean, I don’t look like I did five years ago. Two years ago. Four months ago. I mean, I was practically a different man when we first met. I was younger, fitter…” he trails off, visibly upset.

“Yes, Aaron, you were,” you agree, keeping your tone temperate.

His eyes snap to yours, confused. It’s clear that was not what he was expecting you to say.

“You were a different man,” you continue gently, resuming your pacifying touch in his hair, “and I was a different woman.”

Aaron lets out a huff.

“Do you love me any less now than you did five years ago?” You ask him.

“Of course not,” he’s quick to answer.

“Why is that?” You prod.

“You’re gorgeous, inside and out. You’re funny, smart, loving…” he begins, but you interrupt him before he can go on.

“And,” you butt in, “if I were to go completely grey, gain thirty pounds, and only wear a potato sack to work every day would you love me any less?”

Aaron huffs again, but this time he’s fighting a smile. He’s starting to catch on. You watch as a spark of levity returns to his eyes. He holds you a little tighter.

“No. There’s nothing you could do or say to make me love you any less,” he grumbles in annoyance, but his upturned lip and matching eyebrow tell a different story.

“Ditto, baby,” you smile up at him. “I love you at any age, any day, anywhere, and there is nothing in the world that can make me change my mind.”

He dips down then, capturing you in a kiss, grinning against your lips.

You giggle as Aaron works his way down your jawline and neck, gasping as he kisses the soft skin at the junction of your neck and shoulder, thick fingers gripping the sides of your hips. He moves his lips back up to your earlobe, nipping at it lightly as you let out another soft gasp.

“You always know the right thing to say,” he whispers into your ear, pressing another kiss right underneath it.

“Aaron, I know I said I wanted you to take this dress off me,” you say breathlessly as Aaron nips at your shoulder again, “but Rossi will kill us if we don’t show up tonight. Plus, I really want the chance to show off my super sexy FBI husband. It’s been far too long.”

He lets out a low groan into your skin and gives your hips a squeeze, nuzzling his head into your neck.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, “you’re right.”

“Aren’t I always,” you snort, eliciting a chuckle from your husband as you turn around in his arms to let him zip you up.

He takes his time, letting his fingers brush lightly over your spine as he draws the zipper over your back. When he’s done and the clasp is latched, he kisses one shoulder lightly, and then the other.

“Thank you,” you whisper, leaning back against his warm body.

“No, honey,” he kisses the top of your head, “thank you.”

_____________________________________________________________

By the time you and Aaron arrive at Rossi’s mansion, the party is already in full swing. Judging by the number of cars in the makeshift parking lot on his spacious front lawn, there must be at least fifty, maybe even a hundred people here.

Despite the bustle of the evening, it doesn’t take long for you two to find Emily, Penelope, and Derek in the living room, drinks in hand, snacking on some very expensive looking food.

“Hey, look! It’s the Hotchners!” Emily cheers, teetering on the arm of the leather couch, wine glass in hand.

“Hello beautiful BAU power-couple!” Penelope chimes in from the seat next to her, cuddled up into Derek’s side.

You laugh and let go of Aaron’s hand, walking over to greet your friends.

“Hey hot stuff, look at you, look at you!” Derek chimes in, eyeing you up and down before standing to shake Aaron’s hand.

“Oh, please,” you roll your eyes at him as you give Emily a big hug.

“And you don’t look bad yourself, boss man!” Derek adds.

You shoot your husband an ‘I told you so’ look over your shoulder, before untangling your arms from Emily and giving Penelope an equally enthusiastic squeeze.

“It’s good to see you all,” Aaron smiles lightly, all dimples in the low light. He steps in to give Emily and Penelope soft hugs.

“Let’s go get you a drink,” Derek says to Aaron, clapping him on the back.

“White?” Aaron looks to you, even though he already knows the answer.

“Yes please,” you respond, “thank you.”

“Be back soon,” he smiles easily, kissing your cheek, making your heart ache.

Aaron and Derek turn and exit the room together.

Penelope drunkenly pats the seat next to her, and you plop down on the couch.

“We’ve missed you like this!” Emily exclaims, gesturing between the three of you and around the room. “I can’t believe we’ve had to wait nine whole months plusanother four just to have a drink with our best friend again.”

You laugh at her, tilting your head back lightly. “Well, you guys got a beautiful little niece out of it, doesn’t that make up for all the wild girl’s nights I missed?”

Emily sighs, dramatically, “I guess so,” she jests.

“Oh, for sure.” Penelope adds. “You look freaking gorgeous, by the way. I mean, I would have never guessed you were creating a tiny human in that body only a few months ago!”

You blush lightly at her words, “You flatter me far too much, Pen. I owe this,” you gesture down at your figure, “all to Spanx!”

“Amen!” Emily toasts. You raise an imaginary glass to theirs and pretend to clink, taking a swig of invisible liquid.

“Are J.J. and Will here?” You ask them after they’ve had a few more sips of their wine.

“Yeah, yeah,” Emily nods, “they’re around somewhere.”

You take a moment and look around the room, taking in all the sights and the sounds of the party. You see some faces you recognize from around the bureau, but others you don’t. Just as you’re about to turn back to your friends, someone catches your eye. One face stands out from the crowd: he’s a young, suave-looking man in a sharp navy suit. Sandy hair perfectly gelled, shiny brown loafers, and bright blue eyes looking right at you. In another life you would have been exhilarated by his attention, apparent charm, and good looks, but now? Now, you’re married to the love of your life with an amazing stepson and a wonderful baby girl. His wolfish gaze means absolutely nothing to you. You simply flash him a curt smile and turn back to Emily and Penelope without a second thought.

You and your friends resume your chatter, waiting for the men to return with more drinks... only they don’t. Perhaps its “new mother anxiety” talking, but the longer your husband is gone, the more you start to grow concerned. A few more minutes pass of antics, laughter, and catching up until the nagging voice in the back of your head turns into an all-out scream. All you know is that you’re suddenly feeling very overwhelmed need to be with Aaron. So, you announce to your friends that you’re going to hunt down Derek and your husband.

You stand from the couch and smooth out the skirt of your dress with the promise to be back in a few minutes.

You walk out of the living room and into the grand foyer, following the same route as Aaron had earlier. Your black kitten heels click on the marble flooring, the skirt of your dress swishing lightly as you walk with purpose towards the kitchen. You’re so concentrated on reaching your destination that you don’t realize the man who had been watching you in the living room was now hot at your heels, following you through the house. It’s only when a hand reaches out and jerks your arm backward that you stop, startled, just past the grand staircase, turning face to face with him.

“You’re not an easy woman to get alone,” he smirks, reeking of alcohol, still gripping your arm, tight. Up close he is decidedly not as handsome as the low light of the living room made him seem. In fact, he seems… creepy. Really, really, really, creepy.

“Can I help you?” You blink at him, pulling your arm out of his vice grip.

“You sure can, baby,” he steps closer to you, voice oozing with sleaze. You gag at the liquor on his breath.

Moving away, you scowl at him, crossing your arms across your chest.

“What’s say you and I head upstairs for a little while? I’m dying to get my hands on your body.” He jerks his head toward the staircase, reaching out to grab your arm again.

You’re fuming at this point, ready give him a piece of your mind when a stern voice beats you to it.

“Excuse me, what do you think you’re doing?” Aaron articulates, approaching you both with Derek not far behind.

You breathe a sigh of relief as your husband glares at the drunken man vengefully, coming to stand by your side. Aaron pulls you into him, roughly, hand tight around your waist. The anger radiating off your husband is equally terrifying and HOT.

“Take a walk, man,” Derek adds in, coming to stand next to the drunken asshole. The man looks from you, to Aaron, then over to Derek, and finally back at you.

“Whatever,” the man grumbles, putting his hands up, “she’s not worth it anyway. Not pretty enough for the hassle. I just thought she looked like an easy lay.”

“That’s enough,” Aaron snaps, seething. “Leave now, before I make you,” your husband growls. He angles his body forward so you’re slightly behind him. A shiver passes through you at his fierce protectiveness.

“Fine, I’m going to get another drink,” the man utters.

“No,” Aaron interjects, “the party. Leave the party or I’ll have you removed.”

“What’s your problem?” The creepy man retorts, this time, more confrontationally.

“My problem?” Aaron says, angrily. You feel his entire body tense at the accusation.

“Hotch,” Derek warns, “I’ll take care of it. You guys go enjoy yourselves. Forget about him.”

“Come on, Aaron,” you tug on his suit jacket lightly, eyes pleading… but Aaron doesn’t budge from his spot. He only holds you tighter as he continues to stare down the man as Derek ushers him away and towards the front door. He doesn’t falter until they are out of sight.

“Aaron?” You repeat.

He looks down at you, finally, blinking away the fury until all that’s left is an all-consuming love. He releases you from his protective hold, and you face him.

“I’m okay,” you assure him in earnest, letting out a shaky breath.

“Honey, I’m so sorry,” he breathes, bringing his hands up to cup your face.

“Aaron, it’s okay, really,” you bite your lip, shifting your eyes away from his.

“You’re so beautiful,” Aaron kisses your forehead, and then the top of your head. “So, so beautiful, and I’m so sorry.”

“Aaron, can we just go home?” You ask.

“Sure,” he kisses your head one last time before weaving his fingers between yours and guiding you gently toward the back exit.

_____________________________________________________________

The car ride home is quiet. The only sounds are the occasional click of the turn signal, and the hum of the wheels on the road. Aaron is still upset, and so are you, but you’re also… something else. Something you can’t quite put your finger on. You feel guilty for ruining the evening, guilty that you FEEL guilty for something you had no control over, hungry, tired, and… horny? Oh, and guilty for feeling horny.

It isn’t helping that one of Aaron’s hands is planted firmly on your thigh. He lifts it only to adjust the air conditioning or to scratch his nose, but otherwise it remains on you the whole way home. When he pulls into the driveway of your shared house, and shuts the car off, he still doesn’t move it.

“Honey?” You turn your head to look at him. His eyes are closed. You take in the strong features of his profile, noting the prominence of his nose and the way his eyelashes rest on his high cheekbones.

“I almost punched him.” Aaron whispers, opening his eyes to look over at you sheepishly.

“You what,” you exhale, mouth slightly agape.

“That guy,” he continues, bringing his left hand up to pinch his nose. “I almost punched him for saying that about you.”

You snort, amused by his confession.

Your husband lets out a short laugh, squeezing your thigh as he does.

“I would’ve liked to see that.” You’re grinning now and so is he.

He flashes his eyes at you and laughs again, this time less anxiously. You join him, feeling the tension dissipate with every passing moment.

“My big, bad FBI man decking a barely-legal drunk dickhead for making a move on his wife? Where can I get my tickets?” You joke.

As you say the words “his wife,” Aaron’s breath hitches in his throat. His hand on your thigh presses down instinctively. Neither of his reactions go unnoticed.

You lay a hand over his where it rests on your leg.

“You know, Aaron,” you begin.

He looks over at you, jaw tight, but this time it isn’t from anger.

“This is the first time we’ve had the house all to ourselves in months,” you pull his hand off you and bring it up to your lips. You press a kiss to his palm, and then to his wrist.

“This… is true,” he breathes out, studying you, taking you in.

“So, I’m just wondering:” you grin, linking your fingers with his, “are you going to carry your wife into our house, Aaron? Or do I have to walk myself?”

462 notes · View notes