#best case it takes us 1 hour to get to each other

[katandsquad]

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[tlou-reid]

Finishing Gifts ❤︎ Aaron Hotchner

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.

♡ SUMMARY: after a few days of ignoring him, Aaron makes an effort to get your behavior to return to normal

♡ WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI, smut, female and male masturbation, phone sex, mentions of watching porn, sex toys, drinking, small mentions of criminal minds-esque themes and violence, pretty much porn with very little plot, this is not edited like at all

♡ NOTE: something about writing aaron masturbating makes me go brrrrrr

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

You had thought you were keeping your cool. Honestly, truly, you had thought no one would notice the small changes in your behavior. You had tried to be subtle in dodging Hotch, doing it slowly and over time. It had started with piggybacking Spencer’s theories in the field, which led to pushing to go look at a crime scene rather than to the police department with Hotch. Then evolved into getting deep into conversation with JJ as you approached the jet, using it as an excuse to claim a seat next to her rather than your normal position between Hotch and the window.

These acts had gone unnoticed, or, at least, you’d thought. In your determination to avoid them, you hadn’t noticed the strange looks Derek and Morgan had thrown each other, and then Aaron, as you relaxed next to JJ. You missed Garcia questioning what had been up with you as you extended your time making coffee before a briefing, just so you didn’t have to walk behind Hotch into the room.

But, your latest change to avoid your unit chief definitely didn’t fly under the radar. This one was loud and clear, and absolutely threw off the entire BAU.

You’d just completed, by all possible metrics, a very successful case. It was a rare one, looking at terrorism in the DC area. A group of people who were planting explosives around the city, in unsuspecting areas. Instead of targeting political buildings or memorials, they focused on smaller-scale destruction. The team had been able to put the perpetrators away with no more casualties than those that were gone before the team landed. All in all, it was incredibly stressful, but a win for the team.

So, after Emily’s suggestion and Derek’s reminder that it was an extended weekend due to a government holiday, the team was getting ready to head to the bar. You had begged to go home to shower, promising you’d take an Uber (so you could, in Penelope’s words, “get fucked up with the girls”) and meet them at the bar in about an hour.

You put on your best outfit, showing an appropriate amount of cleavage, and did your makeup to the best of your abilities. After you’d cleaned up, you went to open your Uber app, excited to have a night to relax.

However, you were cut off when a phone call overtook your screen. “Aaron” the contact name read, indicating it was your unit chief, and that he was calling from his personal cellphone. You let ring a few times before picking up, not wanting to seem too eager to talk to your boss.

“Hellooo,” you practically sung into the phone, too excited to be worried about embarrassing yourself in front of him. He simply replied with a formal “hello,” followed by your name. “Please don’t tell me you’re ruining my longggg weekend,” You said to him, and he swore he could hear some of jewelry shaking. You couldn’t keep your excitement in, shaking your wrists, which made your bracelets make noise.

He chuckled a bit at your reaction to him calling, “No, no. I was just calling to see if you had left yet.” You smiled against the phone, knowing where this conversation was going. “Nope! I was actually ordering my Uber when you called,” you informed him. “So, you haven’t ordered it?” He questioned again, to which you replied with a “uh-uh”.

You couldn’t tell but your excitement about going out with your friends was essentially oozing through the phone, causing Aaron to maintain a bright smile on his face. You weren’t aware of how your vibe, your energy, was able to lift a weight off of Aaron’s shoulders that had been there for as long as he could remember.

“I also had to run home before meeting the team. If you’d like, I can pick you up.” Your smile, somehow, grew even bigger. Any excuse to see Aaron was a good one, you’d thought.

However, your face quickly fell when you reminded yourself that you were supposed to be avoiding him. You felt a pang in your heart as you said, “Thanks, but I have a few things to finish up here! I appreciate the offer, Hotch.”

With a quick, formal goodbye, the called ended. Aaron tried to ignore the fact that you lied to him as he drove the rest of the way. You had said you were about to call your Uber, and he heard your jewelry, meaning you were putting the finishing touches on your outfit. So why wouldn’t you accept his ride?

He tried to ignore the blow to his chest when you called him Hotch. Something about the use of his last name made him feel as if he’d done something wrong. Not that it was unusual for you, or anyone really, to call him that. It was the emphasis you’d put on it. As if you were trying to make it known he was Hotch and not Aaron.

Aaron tried to turn off his profiling ability, but it was proving to be had as all of his thoughts were currently encompassed by you.

The night, and the whole weekend if you were being honest, went by in a blur. You could tell Aaron had noticed the change in your behavior. You were standoffish at the bar, pretty much avoiding any conversation with him. You just hoped by the end of the long weekend it would be forgotten, and you’d be able to continue work as normal.

This dream was quickly demolished as Aaron was summoning you into his office before you had the chance to even put your bag down and unpack your files.

The sound of calling your last name both frightened and intrigued you. You couldn’t help but be attracted to the authority in his voice, even if it could mean you were going to be in trouble.

As you stepped into the voice, Aaron didn’t even look up. He mumbled a “shut the door, please,” as he finished recording some notes on an opened file in front of him. You stood awkwardly by the door, waiting for some kind instruction or reasoning from him.

“Please,” he gestured to the seats in front of his desk. You nodded, clumsily making your way to them. “I didn’t mean to scare you or make you uncomfortable by calling you in here,” he began.

You weren’t sure if you were more scared by being called into his office, to have a conversation that required you to both sit down and shut the door, or the intense eye contact he was maintaining as he introduced whatever discussion you two were about to have.

“I just couldn’t help but notice,” he paused for a second, trying to find the right words to say, “a recent change in your behavior.” You hoped he didn’t notice the way your eyes went wide, knowing you’d been caught. You didn’t have to ask what he was talking about to know you’d been caught, but you did anyway, “What do you mean?” You thought you were playing your part well, furrowing your eyebrows to truly emphasis your fake confusion.

“It feels as though you’ve been avoiding me.” Aaron says. His tone isn’t angry or even authoritative, but rather, disappointed. There’s a slight huff in the way he spoke. He didn’t give you a chance to defend yourself before he continued, “Which is fine if you so choose to do so. I would just like to know if it was because of something I did and if I could fix it. I want the team to function as well as it can, and I feel as though it would not if there was conflict between you and I.”

Aaron had to find a professional spin to throw his statement, knowing the professionalism of this situation was debatable at best. “Oh, sir,” you blushed, not really knowing what to say, “I don’t believe there is any conflict between us.” Your voice was formal, too formal. It was obvious you were under pressure. “So, what is it then?” He questioned.

You could feel yourself growing small under his intense stare. You could also feel the wet patch growing between your legs, making you slightly uncomfortable.

“You, uh, you kind of make nervous.” With your quiet voice and stutter, and the way your thighs squeezed together, it was easy for Aaron to pick up on the reason he made you nervous. His cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink instantaneously. “Oh,” his voice trailed off, followed by your quiet, “yeah.”

There was a few beats of silence before he cleared his throat. “Well, I’m glad to hear there’s no issues between us.” You nodded with his words, growing even more nervous. Your mouth was moving before your brain could catch up, “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to, it’s just been a minute since I’ve, ya know, and I know you’re boss but I will be completely professional and this will not effect my work in or out of the field.”

While you mean to be assuring your boss that your attraction to him was no detriment to your work, you just admitted that it’s been a minute since you’ve had an orgasm. You needed to end this conversation quickly.

“If that’s all,” You said as you stood, “I have a few more reports to finish.” Aaron simply nodded, dismissing you back into the bullpen. You made a break for the bathroom, hoping to have a few minutes to collect yourself before facing the race of the team. You felt exposed, knowing you were entering a room of profilers after since a painful experience. You needed some time alone.

After a mini-breakdown, and cleaning up your messed up mascara, you made your way to your desk. Calm and collected. That’s all you had to be. Calm and collected.

Serial killers and other criminals had quieted down for the week, in an unlikely turn of events. You’d only had to travel for one day, quickly solving a kidnapping case and the finding the perpetrator. The week flew by swimmingly. Nothing odd had happened.

Until you opened your door Saturday morning.

You hadn’t ordered anything, that much you were sure of. Even if you did, you tended to shop at places with bright packaging that made you feel like you were opening a gift when it was delivered. This unsuspecting, plain box was not here on your accord, yet it had your name and address on it.

The FBI agent side of you flipped into protection mode, racing to grab your phone and dial up the one person you knew that could tell you what to do if there happened to be a bomb inside of the box. Derek Morgan. “Pretty girl, why are you facetiming me at 8:27am on a Saturday?” He teased with a smile on his face. No matter what time it was, Derek was ready to listen.

“I got this box and I don’t know what it is. I just want someone to be around when I open it.” You informed him, sitting down next to the box. You should probably be standing, just in case you had to make a run for it but you were too worried about getting it open to think that far ahead.

“Alright,” He said, urging you to open it. You nodded to him, setting up the phone so he could you see and the box in the frame. You carefully tore off the tape, and let out a sigh of relief when nothing happened when it moved. You lifted the flaps slowly, taking a loud gasp when you saw it was. You hoped Derek didn’t see, and moved quickly to pick up your phone to hang up before he could.

“It’s not a bomb! I’m good, thanks Derek!” You rushed, hanging up before he could say anything. Your eyes didn’t leave the box as you let your arms fall to your sides. Sitting inside of it was a small, pink rose toy. A vibrator. That you definitely didn’t order.

You grabbed the box, hoping none of your neighbors saw it. It’s not that masturbation was wrong or immoral or that you didn’t partake, it was just weird if the people around you were aware of your toys.

So, you made sure your door was tightly closed before putting the box on the table and digging through it. There was all the normal things, the vibrator itself, large bubble wrap, and a paper receipt with the name of the product: Intimately GG Rose Suction Simulator from Pink Cherry.

However, there was another piece of paper at the bottom of the box. It was a typed note that read, “I hope this helps us go back to normal. A.H”. You knew exactly one person with the initials A.H. so it wasn’t rocket science to figure out who had ordered you this sex toy.

You weren’t sure if you were more turned on or embarrassed.

Aaron was your boss. Your kind, protective, strong, hot, sexy, boss. But still your boss. You wondered if this is something he would’ve done for someone like Emily or Penelope if they’d been in your predicament. It clicked quickly that it definitely wasn’t, and that made you special in Aaron Hotchner’s eyes.

So, you made a mental note to give him a call, after you tried out your toy. Luckily, you had your cleaning solution and an old bottle of lube from your past encounters. You made quick work of getting the toy clean and finding a video to help you get yourself off.

Of course, the man in the video was a white man who was bit older, with broad shoulders and black hair. No coincidence there.

You started with your boobs, taking time to massage each one before pulling on and pinching them to get yourself warmed up. Between the sounds coming from the video and the excitement of finally having time to yourself, your hands didn’t take long to move downwards, tracing along the length of your body. One hand continued caressing your side as the other made its way to your core.

The thought of Aaron going out of his way to help you get off and the visual of a man who looked similar to him getting his dick sucked had you borderline dripping on your bedsheets as you used your hand to start toying with your clit. You started with small circles, matching the speed of the girl sucking Aaron’s lookalike’s dick.

You stayed like this for a while, allowing yourself to go slow, really take your time pleasuring yourself. The guy in the video had already finished on the girl’s tits by the time you reached for your rose toy. You didn’t need the visual anymore, perfectly crafting dirty scenarios of your unit chief in your head.

You started on low. There was gentle sucking on your clit as you imagined the way Aaron would kiss. He’s experienced, you know that for sure. You could imagine the way he’d start gentle, maybe even cupping your face as he pulled you close. He’d let you feel like you were in charge, before his tongue made its way inside your mouth. His dominant side would take over, using his body to press you against whatever surface you were sat on.

As you fantasized about his dominant side, you cranked up the toy to the next level. You let out a loud moan at the new feeling. Your free hand moved back to your breast, squeezing, while you did your best to imagine Aaron’s large hands doing it instead.

You could feel the coil in your tummy getting tighter and tighter as you imagined Aaron slowly stripping your body, dragging his hand along each and every curve. With a sharp pinch to your nipple and a cry of Aaron’s name, you came undone all over your rose toy.

You could feel your slick dripping down your hand as you worked yourself through your orgasm, making sure to enjoy it for as long as you could. You wished you could savor this feeling. It was the strongest, best orgasm you’d ever had. Nothing could compare to the euphoria you felt right now.

You flicked the toy off and sat it to the side once the feeling became too much. You couldn’t bring yourself to move from your position. “Fuck,” you breathed out, trying to relax the hard rise and fall of your chest.

Once you were able to relax, you made your way to the shower. You knew you had to call Aaron, but you needed to be much more relaxed than you were right now to have that conversation. The sting from the hot water helped ground you, allowing you to clear your mind. After you cleaned yourself, you cleaned the toy and put everything in your nightstand drawer for future use.

Then, you reached for your cellphone. You quickly found Aaron’s personal number and hit the call button before you could overthink what you were doing. He picked up on the second ring. “Hotchner,” he said, probably out of habit. “Hello, Aaron,” you smiled. This is the conversation you’d had with him in a while that didn’t make you feel nervous. “Hello,” he echoed with your name. You didn’t know, but he was smirking on the other side of the phone. He’d been waiting for this call.

“You sent me a gift?” You asked. “I did. Have you received it?” He wasn’t sure what grew more, his smirk or his cock. “I have. I’ve opened it and took it for a test run as well.” The way you two were beating around the bush was a turn on, but the way he sounded so self-assured, as if he knew what you were going to say, had you clenching your thighs together.

“How did it perform?” Aaron questioned, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table in front of him. This tightened the dress pants he was wearing against his hardened cock. “Very well,” You smiled. “I’m happy to hear that. I hope this is the end of all of your weird behavior.” Aaron chuckles. Just the sound of his laugh has you reaching your hand to squeeze the fat of your thighs.

“What weird behavior, Aaron?” You questioned, teasingly. This conversation is very different than any you’d had before, and it was turning you. You didn’t think it was possible with the strong orgasm you’d maybe an hour ago. But, Aaron was a special individual. He had that effect on you.

“You were avoiding me,” He scoffed. “I don’t know if I was. I think it was self-control,” You smiled, knowing you were baiting him. Without missing a beat, he took the bait, “And why did you need to practice self-control?”

Aaron leaned back in his chair, opting to press his hand against his cock instead of using the soft fabric to provide some kind of friction. He needed more, that much he knew.

“Because I was trying not to jump your bones, Aaron.” You breathed out. Your words had him squeezing his bulge, feeling like he could bust just from knowing you were attracted to him. “Fuck,” Aaron groaned into the phone. You giggled at his reaction, moving to press your hand against your core, again.

“Tell me about your toy,” He demanded, finally using the authoritarian tone that helped you get into this situation in the first time. “So you can touch yourself while I do?” You questioned, assuming he was in the same position as you. “Is that okay?” He questioned. “Of course it is, Aaron.” You promised, and used your permission as an excuse to unbutton his pants, and shove his hand under the waistband of his boxers.

As you started talking, he spread the precum, that’s been oozing from his pretty pink tip since he saw your contact name, along the length of his dick. “It was so good, Aaron. That was the best orgasm I’ve ever had.”

“Yeah?” Aaron encouraged you to keep going as he started stroking his cock. “Yeah,” You whined out, “I wish you could’ve seen me. My legs were shaking and I was leaking so much.” You smirked as you heard him groan in to the phone. His strokes had quickened in length. All he could picture was you spread out on his bed, cumming around his cock.

“What did you think about while you came?” You were surprised he was able to get the question out, especially because he only stuttered once. You wished you could see the way he squeezed his eyes together as he tugged on his cock. “You, obviously. I was thinking about your lips and your hands. I finished before I could get to the good part. I wanted to picture you fucking me from behind, pressing my face into the mattress.”

You were going to continue describing your fantasy to him, but he cut you off with a “Fuck!” as he came down his hands.

The line was silent for a few minutes before you spoke, “Hey, Aaron?” He hummed out a “yeah?”, before you asked, “Do you want to come over?”

“Give me ten minutes,” He promised, “and have the toy out.”

Well, you couldn’t refuse that.

[yawnderu]

K-9 — Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader | Chapter IV

Sick as a dog, and just as vicious.

1 2 3 4 5

What's a Lieutenant if not someone you can use as a stress reliever

Or

Being a gifted medic comes with free rewards

You weren't the only one catching up on some sleep. Simon was awake throughout Johnny's entire surgery despite having slept four hours the previous night, wanting to be available in case you needed his help, finally getting some much-needed rest after being practically forced by Price.

He wakes up six hours later, a small groan escaping his lips at the light entering his window. His burly arm comes up to cover his eyes, shielding them from the bright sun.

''Fuckin' hell.'' He muttered, getting up from bed and putting on a black balaclava. Shit went down yesterday, with Johnny almost dying, and Makarov is now free, able to continue killing civilians until they're finally able to catch him. At the very least, his best friend is alive and stable last time he visited.

Simon leaves his room, walking to the cafeteria to get a bottle of cold water and a few granola bars before heading to your quarters, knocking on the door softly in case you're asleep. No reply. He knows better, but... what if something happened to you? He uses the pathetic excuse to justify his actions, hand turning the doorknob carefully before stepping inside, footsteps surprisingly quiet for someone his size.

What a fucking sight. He stared at your sleeping figure for a while, taking in the details of your face when it wasn't pulled into a scowl or a bored expression, a small smile tugging on his lips at how peaceful you look before he realized how creepy he was being. He shook his head softly as if to snap out of it, putting the water bottle and granola bars before turning away to try and leave.

Try, because a much smaller hand wrapped around his wrist, almost making him flinch because of how sudden it was. He looks down at you only to find your eyes boring into his, tugging him closer by the wrist. A confused Simon followed like a lost dog before his feet rooted on the ground in front of your bed, giving you a questioning look with his eyes.

''Come lay with me.'' Your voice is much gentler than usual, laced with something he can't quite recognize yet. Simon knows better, really he does, but who is he to question the medic he's been pining on for months? He hesitantly removes his boots and climbs into bed with you, keeping a respectful distance despite his behemoth frame taking over half of the bed. His muscles tense up when he feels you cuddling up to him, being a painfully fitting piece against his body.

''What are you on bout, doc?'' You don't reply, simply examining his eyes for any hints of hesitation. You find nervousness, curiosity, doubt, and even the smallest hints of fear, but no hesitation at all. Your hand sneaks up to the bottom of his balaclava, pulling it all the way off before your lips crash into his hungrily. It takes him a few seconds of pure confusion before he kisses back, arms wrapped around your waist, and whatever questions he has on why you're doing this all of sudden pushed to the back of his mind.

Your hands grab at anything they can reach— muscle, skin, hair... anything, holding onto his much bigger body like a lifeline, his warm hands running up and down your back. He has fantasized about this moment so many times, yet the real thing is so different in a good way.

''Tell me I can touch you, bird.'' You simply nod your head and try to go back to kissing him, but he pulls away, gently squeezing your waist to make you look at him.

''Use your words.'' His words are almost pleading, wanting to make sure you want the same thing.

''I want you to touch me, Simon.'' Not a second passes before his lips are back on yours, tongues wrapping around each other's as his hands start to drift down, grabbing a handful of your ass. His touch is so desperate it almost makes you laugh, one of your hands sneaking down his shirt and feeling him up, defined muscles flexing under your touch. His slightly shaky hands fumble with the button of your jeans, breaking away from the kiss just to look at you and make sure you still want it. The half-lidded look you give him is enough confirmation, pulling down your jeans and getting on his knees, between your legs.

"Been wanting to do this since I saw ya." He confesses, too excited for his fantasies finally coming true to even feel remotely bashful about his words. He lifts up your shirt enough to reveal your tummy, gentle kisses planted on every single inch of skin his lips can reach as he slowly descends, planting open mouthed kisses over your clothed cunt.

"Fuck—" Your back arches at the feeling, eyes screwed shut as your hand goes to the back of his head, pushing him closer. His tongue is warm and wet, saliva mixing in with your growing arousal. He pushes your panties to the side, looking down at your gleaming pussy before digging in, tongue lapping the wetness before he latches onto your cunt, sucking and licking away like a starved man.

"You taste s'fucking good." He praises before going back down, the flat of his tongue moving around your cunt before slowly going inside, your whiny moans and hands gripping his short hair are all the encouragement he needs. He latches onto your clit next, long fingers teasing the entrance of your cunt, spreading your arousal all over them before he slowly enters you with one.

His fingers are thick and long, whiny moans escaping your lips as he adds a second one, making scissoring motions as he fucks his fingers deeper and deeper into you, tongue alternating between licking and sucking on your clit before hesitantly letting go.

"Sit on my face." It's not even a request, it sounds like a plea, though you quickly listen to his words for the first time ever, cunt hovering above his face as soon as he lays back down. He grabs a handful of your ass, squeezing the plush and pulling your body down to his face, eating you out like a starved man. His hands let go of your ass to unbuckle his belt, barely having the strength to pull his hard cock out of his jeans, eyes closing as he focused on the dual sensation of pleasuring you with his mouth and pleasuring himself with his hand, pre staining his fingers as his hand moves up and down his shaft faster.

"Fuck— Just like that, Si." Si. You never call him anything other than Simon. Sometimes Ghost, when you're needed during missions and hang around them in the helos, but the way you say his name... so much affection, even if it only comes from making you feel good. He's pathetic— God, he knows he's being pathetic, cock twitching in his hand at the idea of you reciprocating his complex and strange feelings for you, ropes of thick cum shooting out into his hand and stomach, a low growl coming out of his lips as he squeezed his cock dry of cum.

He focuses solely on you now, tongue swirling and flickering all over you, his clean hand coming up to rub your clit with his thumb while he assaults your dripping wet cunt with his lips and tongue. Your hands go down to his head, fingers pulling on his short hair while you use his face to feel good, getting closer and closer to the edge.

"Si, I'm gonna cum—" But he doesn't stop. Hell, his thumb moves even faster over your sensitive bud, tongue-fucking your pussy as deep as he can until he can feel your body shaking on top of him, thighs closing in on his head and squeezing as the intensity of your orgasm washes over you, his waiting mouth taking in all your juices, lapping at them greedily until you pull away from the stimulation, shaky legs managing to position yourself next to him, head against his chest.

"You hear that? Price is calling you." You lie, unable to contain the smirk on your lips as he flicks your nose.

"Piss off, doc." His burly arms wrap around you, a loud groan of protest escaping your lips when you realize you're forced to cuddle with him.

[PREVIOUS]

[sugurizz]

𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓/𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 +𝟏𝟖 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐃𝐍𝐈!!

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ── Bby Boo Joo is a M E N A C E but I know a lot of us noticed him being all soft and tender (like 1% of the time) but oh well, I can work with that 💪🏼. So here’s some of the ways Jaekyung expresses his…feelings? Ig. kinda his love language.. in a way 💕…

𝐁𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐀𝐒𝐊.

Also thanks for the inspo and sorry ik this ask was sent long ago 🤧. U can call me Hana but I’ve been thinking about Yuna as a new alias…idk.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: established relationship, Physiotherapist F! Reader, shared house, implied power dynamics, hints at sex/ SEXUAL content.

Living in Jaekyung’s penthouse sure made life easier for both of you. It slowly aquainted you to each other, bodies and minds. You slowly got used to his mannerisms, little habits and his little pet-peeves. The sense of pride it gave you to feel like you knew him more than anybody else sure gave you a tiny ego boost. especially him desiring you whenever his body needs it…

♥︎──♥︎ He checks on you randomly. Casually pretending to walk by your room and just making sure you’re there. He does it almost whenever he’s home with you. Sometimes getting a bit sly with it so you don’t really notice him. But you slowly learned it was his way of checking up on you, making sure you’re around him -you know- just in case…

♥︎──♥︎ He hates you not being home, especially when he’s back from overtime training. Whenever he’s feeling stressed, uneasy or just in a sour mood, he’d rather you be around him or at least somewhere he knows.

He made it obvious the one day you were away til a late hour at night. He came home from his evening workout, didn’t find you there and instantly texted you.

‘I’m home. need you to check on my shoulder.’

♥︎──♥︎ He always complains about his feather-light sleep, but snoozes like a baby whenever you’re in his bed. The nights before his matches are surprisingly best for him. He gets the best sleeping quality after he pounds the juices out your poor pussy. He wakes up before you for sure, but his cute disheveled morning hairs are sure proof of a healthy healthy nap.

♥︎──♥︎ He likes it better when you make the food. His cocky ass always claims he’s fine making it himself but eats twice the amount whenever it’s you cooking his meals. He’d pretend he’s tired and not in the mood whenever he craves your cooking cause…his ass can’t simply ask for something lol. Yet he gets all giddy and blushy when his fav smoked eel dish is ready.

♥︎──♥︎ He hates to see you in any pain. Always saying it’s just for himself though…You know, just because he wants you always safe and ready to keep him in peak condition. and NOT because he actually cares or anything.

Yet why does he still gets annoyed at you getting the slightest scratch? He frowns when he notices you wearing band-aids, having a bruise or even some random shallow cuts on your hands and he’d instantly grab your arm, staring into your eyes and asking you how’d you get the injury.

♥︎──♥︎ He likes randomly noticing you…*ahem* underclothed. booty shorts definitely trigger his inner perv. He stares at your ass when you’re standing in the bathroom, doing your skincare freshly out of a quick nighty shower. So damn shameless when he stares. Almost undressing you with the raven eyes and thick lashes. So annoying…

You usually end up taking another shower that same night, only with his thick cum flowing down your thigh the second time :3

♥︎──♥︎ He can sense whenever you’re feeling down…IRONICALLY? Sounds like a joke with Jaekyung being the dick he is LOL but trust me on this one.

He almost has a sixth sense whenever you’re sad, scared, stressed out or just if something inconvenient happens to you in general. He’d never admit it -obviously- but it bugs him if he ever caught you teary-eyed. It gets him uneasy and you can tell when his mood sometimes matches yours..

Uhhh smells like love in here *insert Jaekyung stuffing his nose with toilet paper scraps*

♥︎──♥︎ He hates when you struggle to do something by yourself instead of asking him for help. (paying bills, dealing with packages, paperwork etc…) Says they’re just ‘bs problems’ and he can solve them for you much quicker and better than you could. He’d do it himself or even pays someone to do it instead.

Besides, he’s not kidding when he says he wants all your focus on him so he’d rather everything around you gets taken care of just so you can be there for him at all times.

♥︎──♥︎ He doesn’t mind your outside life but would definitely notice when you’re all cute and dolled-up for some reason.

It’s not only about the dolly looks to be fair. He’d bend you over the kitchen counter in your stained apron and fuck you dumb or suck your tits in your goofy pattern pjs on one of his long sleepless nights…

But the time he notices you spraying your cherry fragance in the bathroom, your perky breasts sticking shyly through your dress and a shiny jewel dangling from your ankle bracelet always gets him tight in his boxers.

He walks in with his glossy eyes, same naugthy grin you see when he’s in that mood..

‘Tomorrow’s my back check-up. Better not be late.’ He steps behind you, arms lazily crossed above his chest.

You nodded and made your way through the entrance, catching a honeyed voice behind you.

‘Hey Doc. I’ll drop you by'...

…His white McLaren got you there way ahead of time. so ahead that you ended up clawing at the door close to you, the little ankle bracelet jiggling over Jaekyung’s back and your shaky arms wrapped shut around his shoulders. Begging him to let you cum in fear of missing on your little night out...

[kaleldobrev]

Getting Back into the Swing of Things (1) — The 15 Year Problem Series

Pairing: MOC!Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Feat. Character(s): Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester & Unnamed Hunter Boyfriend (OC)

Series Summary: Needing help on a poltergeist case, you ask fellow hunter Sam Winchester for help. Despite having a broken arm, Sam agrees to help you. But, just as he’s about to head out and meet you, Dean tells him that he’ll take his place and help instead.

Chapter Word Count: 2.2k

Chapter Warnings: Cursing (4x), Age Gap (15 years) & Minor controlling behavior

Authors Note: A prequel series to the Old Man Universe (OMU) on how Dean and reader met | Takes place a few days after Dean is cured from being a demon in 2016 (please read this post for reasonings why it’s 2016, not 2014) | Don't worry, as Dean and reader meet in the next chapter! | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

⋆ The 15 Year Problem Masterlist ⋆

⇠ Go Back & Read the Prologue

Dean tossed and turned, still unable to fall asleep despite what seemed like hours trying. He smelled blood in his nose, felt it on his lips and tongue; smiling with pure bliss. He could feel his hand gripping the First Blade, and he could hear the heart beats of people fading fast as he looked into their eyes. His throat felt dry all of a sudden. “Fuck,” he mumbled to himself.

Removing the covers from himself, he swung his body, his feet flat on the floor as he rubbed his face. Letting out a huge sigh of frustration, he got up from his bed and made his way to his bedroom door; deciding that maybe a few drinks could make him get a bit sleepy. But he knew deep down that wasn’t going to work — he just needed an excuse to get up and walk around.

As Dean started making his way toward the kitchen, he noticed that Sammy’s door was open halfway, the light of the room still on. A puzzled look appeared on Dean’s face, surprised that Sam was still up. He figured after curing him, he would be knocked out for the next couple of days, or at least taking it easy.

He heard drawers opening and closing, not remotely quietly. Standing in the doorway, he saw Sam packing some clothes into a duffel bag, slightly struggling as he did so, as he was down an arm. “Heading out somewhere?” Dean asked, after knocking on the doorway.

Sam looked up, barely smiling. He looked almost half asleep. “Uh yeah. A hunter friend of mine asked me to help her with a poltergeist case. Should be only a few days.”

“A poltergeist case uh?” Dean questioned, intrigued. “Where at?” He scratched the back of his head as he walked into Sam’s bedroom, trying his best not to sound too excited about the case.

“Tulsa. It’s about a five and a half hour drive from here, and I promised Y/N I’d meet her at the motel in town,” Sam said, zippering up his duffel.

“You sure you’re good to go Sammy? I mean, your arm is still broken,” Dean said, pointing at his arm. “Why don’t I go instead? I could use a nice and easy case to get my sea legs back.”

Sam looked at his brother with a bit of hesitancy. “I don’t know Dean…” his voice trailed off. Even though Sam had talked to you about Dean, he wasn’t sure how you would react to Dean showing up instead of him. Based on the short amount of time he had known you, he feels that you and Dean would get along really well as your hunting styles were scarily similar at times, and your personalities rivaled each other. But yet, you didn’t know Dean, and he knew you’d rather hunt alone than hunt with someone you didn’t know.

“Sammy, your arm is broken. No offense, but how much help are you really going to be to her? She might as well just do it by herself,” Dean said, and Sam knew that his brother had a point. He was right, as much as he hated to admit it.

Sam sighed, almost defeated. “Alright, alright. You’re…you’re right,” he said, slightly swinging his casted arm. “Just let me give her a heads up first okay?”

You looked out straight in front of you as only darkness could be seen for miles and miles. Your hands had a tight grip on the wheel to the point that your knuckles were almost pale and white. The loudness of your windshield wipers drowned out what you were currently listening to — The Clash.

There was no traffic, no cars— just you, the rain, and the complete darkness except for your headlights. You sighed, thinking about your boyfriend, how conflicted you felt about the whole thing. On one end, you were tired of the bullshit and were ready to call it quits with him. Why be with someone who makes you miserable? You heard your mom’s words echoing in your brain, so loud as if she was sitting right next to you. On the other end, you wanted to give him another chance as people who understood the hunting life was few and far between.

You didn’t necessarily want to be alone, but it was something that started to look more and more appealing. You were 22, still young and had time to find someone. But who? Another hunter? A civilian maybe? No, no civilians, you thought. Too risky. You needed someone that knew the life.

As if snapping you out of your current thought, your phone started ringing, the buzz of it slightly vibrating your seat. Since there were no cars on the road, you pulled off to the side, and answered the phone. "Hey Sammy," you said, "where are you?"

"Hey Y/N, I'm uh...still back at the Bunker," his voice sounded so tired and defeated.

You raised a brow in confusion. "What do you mean you're still back at the Bunker? You're not coming to help me?" You would be lying if you weren't disappointed. Although you had only known Sam for a short amount of time, he was someone that you genuinely enjoyed hunting with; not only because he was a legendary Winchester, but because he treated you like his equal, despite your age.

"Remember when Cas helped me on a case a while back and I ended up breaking my arm?" He said, and you nodded, even though you knew he wasn't able to hear you. But he took your lack of an answer to continue speaking. "Well, it's still broken. And I didn't want to say no when you called for help because you were such a big help to Cas and me, especially me, when Dean were gone."

You didn't want to give the impression that you were disappointed, even though you were. But you understood where Sam was coming from; and the last thing you wanted to do was force him to drive all the way to Tulsa just to sit in the motel room. "I really appreciate you saying yes, even though you're kind of out of commission. It...it really means a lot."

"Listen, I know you can pretty much solve this case in your sleep but..." he paused, sighing, almost as if he was afraid to say the next few words. "Dean offered to help you."

You were completely silent, which was a rarity for you. It wasn't like you didn't appreciate the help, but you were iffy about it as you didn't really like working with people that you weren't really familiar with. Yes, you've heard countless stories from Sam about his brother, and knew he was a good hunter; but the thing that scared you was, when it came down to it, would he just leave you for dead to save himself?

"I know you don't usually work with people you aren't really familiar with but," he sighed again, and you knew if he was in front of you right now, the puppy dog eyes would be in full force. "He's a great hunter, Y/N, and he wouldn't let anything happen to you. If something bad happened to you, he would never be able to forgive himself."

How could you possibly say no when Sam was practically telling you how good of a person his brother was? "Sam —"

"You'd be doing me a big favor, Y/N. I think this case would really help him get back into the swing of things," Sam said. Now you definitely couldn't say no.

You took a deep breath, sighing. "Okay," you said simply, giving in to Sam’s plead.

"Thanks Y/N, seriously," his tone sounding a bit happier now that you agreed. "I already gave him the address to the motel we agreed to meet at. He should hopefully be there right around the same time as you are."

"But you guys are almost six hours away," you stated with a raised brow. "Is he teleporting there?"

Sam chuckled at your comment. "No, no. He uh...he's a bit of a speed demon," Kind of like you, he wanted to add.

"Ah, so like me," you said. Sam couldn't help but smile at the comment, finding it funny that you had thought the exact same thing as he had. "Alright. Um, does he need my phone number or?"

"I kind of...already...gave it to him...sorry..." his words trailed off, almost embarrassed, like you had caught him red handed. You sighed, slightly annoyed. You didn't like when others gave out your phone number without asking you first, but then again, your boyfriend — which was soon to be your ex — was something he did quite often behind your back.

"He still driving the impala?" You asked, but before Sam could answer you, you continued with your thought, answering your own question. "Never mind, that was a stupid question," you slightly chuckled to yourself. "Of course he's still driving the impala."

Dean held the steering wheel tightly in his hands, loving the feeling of the leather at his fingertips. It had been far too long since he'd driven Baby, and it was one of the things that he truly missed while he was gone. "It's just a car Sam," his words rang out; and those words gutted him, because Baby wasn't just a car: she was home.

As he drove, his music was low, not loud like he usually preferred it, as he was currently admiring the simplicity of his surroundings. The rain hitting the windshield and being quickly wiped away, the darkness of the road that was only lit up by Baby's headlights. He felt comfortable and at ease; something driving always helped him to feel. He felt at home right now.

You didn't really know what to feel right now as you were debating back and forth on how your first meeting with the infamous Dean Winchester was going to go. According to Sam, the two of you would get along great, as he's made comments along the lines of, "You sometimes scarily remind me of Dean," which you weren't sure if you should take as a compliment or not.

Some of the stories Sam had told you about Dean impressed you, but then there were some where you couldn't help but roll your eyes at the stupidity. With some stories, you wondered how he wasn't dead already, then again, both Winchester's have died and came back countless times as death didn't seem to stick. You couldn't help but wonder what made them so special. Maybe they are God's favorites, you thought; and you couldn't help but chuckle.

Pulling into the motel parking lot, you let out a small laugh, seeing Dean's impala already in the parking lot. He really is a speed demon, you thought. Wonder what time he got here? You wondered.

As soon as you parked your vehicle, your phone began buzzing, and you looked at the name on the caller ID. Your blood started boiling seeing your boyfriend's name. "You have to be fucking kidding me," you mumbled to yourself.

At first, you were going to ignore the call, as maybe he would think you were still driving. But there was no way you would be able to give that illusion as there was no traffic on the road when you left because of the time. With gritted teeth, you answered the call, trying your absolute best to remain calm. "Hey," was all you said.

"You get to the motel yet?" He asked, his tone implying that he already had that knowledge somehow.

"I just pulled in," your answers were short, as you were still mad at him from before. Although driving was one of the things that calmed you down and made you feel at peace, for some reason, this argument in particular really made you angry.

"You said you would call me when you got to the motel," he sounded mildly annoyed, but disappointed at the same time.

You rolled your eyes. "Fucking hell," you mouthed. "I just pulled in. You didn't give me enough time to even call or text you." You took a deep breath, feeling yourself getting ready to boil over. "This is me telling you that I have reached the motel and may not be able to talk to you over the next couple of days, okay?" You weren't asking him; you were telling him; trying to make it clear that you couldn't talk to him. Of course you would be able to, but you didn't want to, as this case was a way for you to get the edge off. It was a way to kill something without killing him.

"I love you," he said, and for some reason him saying those three little words surprised you. He rarely said them to you, even though it was something that you had said to him regularly. The only times he ever seemed to say those three little words to you was during or after sex, or when the two of you had gotten into a rather nasty argument.

You didn't want to say it back to him, as love was the very last thing you felt for him in this moment. But you almost felt like you needed to, so he wouldn't feel like anything was wrong between the two of you. Then again, you didn't want to gaslight him the same way he always seemed to gaslight you. "I'll see you in a few days," was how you decided to answer, as those were the most genuine words you felt you could say to him.

⤑ Move Forward & Read Chapter 2

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[jakesduskwood]

even statues crumble if they're made to wait

Pairing: Jake x Fem!MC

Genre: Post-Episode 10 Duskwood, Post-Episode 1 Moonvale

Words: 8,916

Summary: It's been three months since the explosion in the mine. Three months since Hannah was found. And MC's accepted that Jake is never coming back. When she gets roped into another missing person's case, it makes for the perfect distraction. Jake is dead. It's fine. That is, until she finds herself on the phone with Alan Bloomgate who says he has something to show her. But it's fine. Jake is dead.

Until he's not.

EPISODE-1 MOONVALE SPOILERS AHEAD (MAYBE)!

[ A/N: Hello! :)

I know it's been a while since I've done this, but I finished Moonvale Episode 1 and if you've seen the ending (and used its Duskwood code), you know what happened and how excited I was to receive that bit of Duskwood. So, I took it and ran with it, and out came this extremely long fic. I did not proofread this as it took me literally almost 12 hours to write so it is completely and 100% me and my love for Jake and I hope you love it.

Side note: I suck with anything related to timelines, so I made one up on my own. I know Episode 1 of Moonvale takes place over the course of a day or two, but for the purpose of this fic, it made sense to make it longer, so it's not a typo, or me losing my mind, it's just the way my brain processed this.

Enjoy! :) ]

It’s been three months since the explosion in the mine.

Three months since Richy had been killed. Three months since Hannah was rescued. Three months since I had last spoken to Thomas or Cleo or Lilly or…or Jessy. I didn’t blame her then and I don’t blame her now. Any of them, really. I didn’t share the bond they had with each other. I wasn’t from Duskwood. It didn’t matter that we’d experienced a tragedy together—and yes, perhaps them more than me, but I loved Richy too. I had lost Richy too. And Jake—

But mostly, I think they just wanted to forget. To move on. They didn’t want to remember that their friend had been capable of…of that. And I was a constant reminder of that to them. So I understood why we didn’t necessarily talk anymore.

The one person I did keep in contact with from Duskwood, oddly enough, other than the occasional update from Alan Bloomgate, was Dan. We weren’t best friends or anything, but he allowed me to check in on our friends in a way that I didn’t know how to do with anyone else. Maybe because I thought he was the least affected among them. I knew he cared about Hannah, but he wasn’t to her what Thomas or Cleo or Lilly were. And he wasn’t to Richy what Jessy had been.

I’d learned from him that Thomas and Hannah had broken up. There was no bad blood, but Thomas hadn’t quite figured out how to accept the things he’d learned about his girlfriend when she’d been gone, and Hannah hadn’t quite figured out how to re-trust someone after Richy. Even if that person was Thomas. But I’d hoped they would find their way back to each other in the end.

I thought about reaching out to Jessy every once in a while—even just as an apology for everything that had happened. I’m sorry that Hannah was found at the expense of Richy. I’m sorry that he did this to you. I’m sorry I didn’t realize it sooner. We should have. We should have. We should have. I miss you. But I never send it. I’m not all that sure she’d respond anyway.

Cleo and I were never all that close. She has her best friend back, so I think she’s probably as okay as she can be. Helping Hannah find a new kind of normal in a time where her childhood friend had kidnapped her in order to prove a point. I don’t know how you come back from that—I don’t know how you come back from knowing that you killed somebody at all.

I hadn’t found the courage to ask if somebody had told Hannah about Jake.

Not that I think it would matter anyway. I hadn’t heard from him since before the explosion in the mine, which was, like I said—three months ago. I waited the appropriate amount of time—twenty-five days—before I broke down and concluded that maybe he hadn’t survived. Which just piled a shit-ton of guilt onto my shoulders because it was supposed to be me in that mine. He had gone in place of me and now he was dead.

It was the only explanation that made sense. I was used to Jake disappearing for days at a time, but never as long as he had been now. And he didn’t seem like the type to tell me he loved me and then leave without a single explanation. Not unless he had to. But it had been three months and as much as I missed him, as much as my chest ached with the thought that we would never eat Chinese food out of shitty motels and have that on-the-run ending we talked about, I had accepted that he wasn’t coming back.

I wonder if he had known about Richy or if he had died still thinking Michael Hanson was the one who had kidnapped Hannah. I wonder if his last thoughts were of me. Maybe it’s selfish, but I kind of hope they were, because I’m pretty sure I’ll think about him for the rest of my life.

I wonder what it would have felt like to run my hands through his hair. To kiss him. To spend every waking moment with him and know it was because I loved him. Because I would have. Talking to Jake became about more than just finding Hannah. It became a part of my day I looked forward to more than anything else. He confided in me in a way that told me he never had with anyone, maybe not even Hannah, and I needed that from somebody. I needed somebody to trust in me the way that Jake did. I needed somebody to love me the way that Jake did.

It was strange—and maybe a little ironic—the thought that something so beautiful could come out of something so tragic.

Anyway, my point is: it’s been a long couple of months. Of thinking about my friends. Of thinking about Jake. Of wondering if I should have done things differently. I should have gone to Duskwood to help. Not even with the mine, but sooner. I could have. I could’ve gone when Jessy was attacked on the way home. I could’ve gone when the group made plans to cut out of town and hide away in the house Richy had found. Selfishly, I should have. In that moment, when they were settled around the fire and Lilly called me, I had never remembered wanting anything more. I should have grabbed Jake—metaphorically, maybe even literally—and rode it out with them to the end.

I don’t stop missing them after three months. Of wishing things could have been different. Wishing I could have done more. But exactly ninety-five days after the explosion in the mine, seventy days since I had accepted that Jake was never coming back, twenty-two days since I had last heard from anybody from Duskwood (Dan included), my phone dings with a new message.

And the cycle starts all over again.

It’s somebody named Eric, who claims he needs my help to find his friend Adam, who disappeared while he was waiting for a ride in someplace called Redlog Pines. And much like with Duskwood, I have never heard of Redlog, and the case reminds me way too much of Thomas’ first message to me, so much that it makes my chest ache, but I can’t say no because there’s somebody missing, and if I’d say no the first time, God knows where Hannah would be.

So, I say yes, and I help out where I can, and Eric decides he needs to bring about four more friends in on his little plan and I try my best to stay emotionally unattached because I remember everything that happened the last time and I can’t go through that again. I offer up information when I can and keep my words short and careful because I’m not ready to get attached to somebody else I know I might never meet.

I know how this ends.

Two days in, Ash, one of Eric’s friends, brings up my Duskwood past and the unhealed wound I’ve been trying to mend breaks open again. She asks about Richy, and about the mine, and then because I’m me and I can’t help myself, I tell her about Jake. She tells me the news never mentioned another body and I shove that thought to the back of my head because hoping for something that will never come true will kill me.

Four days into Adam’s disappearance, and the police not giving a shit—as Charlie, somebody who reminds me far too much of Richy for comfort, points out—my phone beeps with an incoming call from somebody I haven’t spoken to in a while.

“Go for [MC].” I answer my phone.

Ever since Hannah had been found in the mine and Jake had…you know, my phone had been more silent than I’d gotten used to. Until this new case. But even that—it was only a few days old and I didn’t want to go down the same path with them that I did with my friends in Duskwood. We didn’t really know each other that long, sure—even though sometimes it’d felt like it—but it felt like I’d finally been a part of something. Like, I had found these people who had chosen me for me.

And originally, maybe they had. Maybe they’d had every intention of keeping me around, but then Richy was the Man Without A Face and Alan Bloomgate had rescued Hannah and nothing was the same as it had been when we’d met each other. We knew too many secrets about each other by the time the town settled. Secrets we would have to take to the grave.

Or maybe I’m losing my mind a bit and I had really only been a means to an end.

Either way.

“Alan?” I raise my voice when there’s nothing but breathing on the other end of the line. “Did you mean to call me?”

His tone is clipped. “I found something.”

“You found something.” I repeat.

My heart clenches. For all I know, it might fall into my stomach. As far I know, from watching the news, from what Ash told me, Jake’s body was never found. Richy’s was. Or what was left of him to find, anyway. I had assumed that there just hadn’t been enough of Jake left. The thought left me nauseous, but it was better than hoping for something I knew I could never have.

“I’m sending it to your phone now.” He responds. “Let me know what you think of this.”

And then he hangs up.

That was a riveting conversation, I think as my phone dings with a message. I do my best to ignore my other messages—contacts from Duskwood I’m still not ready to acknowledge—and click Alan Bloomgate. He sent me a video that looks like—oh God.

Immediately, I’m overcome with emotion as an all-too-familiar forest pops up on my phone. It’s a video of Alan’s bodycam footage. He’s searching the Duskwood forest. A forest I’ve seen too many times in the background of other video calls.

I watch as he stumbles upon an object that’s too dark to make out at first. When he gets closer, it’s clear that it’s a backpack. It’s simple. Black. Nothing about it that screams this is mine and I left it here about anybody in particular. You stupid, stupid idiot, I tell my heart when it rattles against my chest in hope. He’s dead.

Alan stands and treks away from the backpack—I want to scream at him to go back, to open it and look through it and tell me if it’s what my heart aches to believe, but I can’t, because this is a video and I’m simply watching with wide eyes, waiting for…for something. But then. But then, he moves further into the forest and I watch as he stumbles upon an object that makes my knees tremble and tears rush to my eyes and my hands shake. A black hoodie. It looks like it’s been through hell, with holes scattered up the sleeves and dirt cakes into the hood, but it’s unmistakably his.

And then—Alan lifts the hood and picks up something that makes me sink to my knees with a sob that wracks my entire frame. Because I’m staring at Jake’s mask. The mask he doesn’t go anywhere without. The mask that protects him. And so my relief is short-lived, because I realize that even if he’s alive—which seems like a very big possibility at this point—he’s alive without the things that he needs to survive.

And then the anger kicks in. Because if he’s been alive, on his own, for three months—why has he not contacted me? Unless he survived the mine but he didn’t survive the after. But that didn’t make any sense. So, okay, he wasn’t dead. But that didn’t make any sense either. He told me he wouldn’t let them catch him. Because catching that meant he would be apart from me. Did something happen that prevented him from being able to reach out and tell me he was at least okay? A quick text that said didn’t die in the explosion in the mine, you don’t need to mourn me, by the way, going off radar for another year. Did he think I would have given up on him?

I wipe my eyes and shoot a message to Alan.

ME: Recently?? Did nobody search the forests before?      

ALAN: Searched the forests for what, [MC]? The logical assumption seemed to be that if anybody was inside the mine when Richy set the fire, they would have perished alongside him. Officers were stationed outside every known entrance and exit. Besides, after the story you and your friends spun around this town, do you think anybody would have gone back into its forests?

ME: But it’s possible?

ALAN: I would say these items had been there for some time. But I would say it is likely he ditched them when he fled the mine, yes.

Another sob tears through my throat. Jake is alive. I don’t know quite what that means for us as of now, but I know it’s the best news I’ve heard since Hannah was found. Jake is alive. He’s out there somewhere. And even if it’s been three months, and even if I’m a little bit mad at him right now, I know that if he was here, I would throw my arms around his neck and hold on to him until someone dragged me off, and even then—I would fight kicking and screaming.

I close out of my messages with Alan and pull up a conversation I haven’t had the heart to look at in quite some time.

ME: Jake’s alive.

LILLY: …

LILLY: Have you spoken to him?

ME: Alan called. He found some of Jake’s things in Duskwood. I don’t know a lot of details. But I know he made it out of the mine.

Lilly types for a long while, but she doesn’t respond. I don’t take it personally. I think it’s probably hard for her to be happy that her brother’s okay while also trying to accept that her sister may never be okay again. Her sister, who had once-upon-a-time been kind-of-sort-of in love with their brother she didn’t know she had. I think that would probably mess with any family’s heads. And on top of all that, you throw in manslaughter and a kidnapping. I wouldn’t wish anybody, not even my worst enemy, to have had to go through what the Donforts had.

When it becomes adamant that Lilly isn’t going to respond, I start scrolling through messages with the rest of the group in Duskwood. I click on Jessy. I’m here if you need me. That had been the last thing I sent to her, a couple of days after Richy’s death. She hadn’t responded. I click out of Jessy’s contact and click on Thomas’ instead. Thank you for everything. That had been his last message to me after we found Hannah. I’d liked it. I hadn’t expected at the time it would be the last thing we’d ever say to each other. I click out of Thomas’ and click on Richy. So, you want to turn yourself in? I’d asked. That was before he called me. Before he lit a match and burned himself and the mine to the ground. Some people would call that heroic. I mostly call him a coward.

I click on Jake’s name. It’s been a while since I read messages between the two of us. Maybe before I had accepted—thought—he was dead. In that twenty-five-day period when I’d hoped with all I’d had that he would come back. I love you. That was the last message he sent me. I’d responded with I love you too, Jake. Then, four days later: Are you okay? A week later: Jake, please, you’re starting to scare me. I know you said you would contact when you could, but it’s been a week. After twenty-five days, when I had finally accepted our fate, I’d sent one final message: I hope you know that I love you, and I will always care about you, but I think it’s time for me to move on. I’m so sorry that I sent you into the mine. It should have been me. And I will probably feel the guilt from that for the rest of my life. Thank you for everything. Take care of yourself, wherever you are.

After that, I had closed out of our messages and hadn’t looked back. Partly because I couldn’t bear the pain of it. It felt like I had given up on him. I hadn’t—if I had thought for a second that he was alive, if I knew then what I know now, I would have never sent that message. But holding out hope for somebody who I thought was a ghost at the time? That was slowly killing me.

It’s only then that I notice the screen flickering. Much like the way it used to whenever Jake would hack into my phone. I don’t think he’s much in the mood to be hacking right now, but somehow, I know it’s him. When had he done this? Recently? If I had opened our messages, would I have seen this ten—twenty—even fifty days ago? It hadn’t looked like this the last time I texted him. Did he see my last message about needing to move on? Was that why he hadn’t reached out to tell me that he was okay? Because he thought I was moving on happily without him?

No, my brain supplies. He wouldn’t. He would reach out anyway, because he knows how much the thought of him not being okay would have destroyed you.

The screen flickers once more and then a message pops up, bright and blue-tinted and clear as day on my phone.

[MC]

I WILL FIND YOU

And the world around me shifts.

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

Maybe it sounds crazy, considering I’ve never seen his face before, but I always thought that if I’d ran into Jake one day, maybe on the street or at one of those motels he stayed at or maybe even in Duskwood, surrounded by all our friends, I would know it was him. I would, because it’s him, and it’s me, and we’re the only two people who understand each other quite the way we do.

I still believe that.

I believe it when I book my flight to Duskwood (or rather, twenty miles outside of town, which is the closest airport). I believe it when I board the airplane and find a seat next to a mother with her screaming child and when I shoot off a quick text to Eric to let him know I’ll be MIA for the next few hours, but to message me if he needs anything—and I think about how much easier this case would probably be to solve if we had Jake.

Maybe it would have been harder to find Hannah without me, but I know damn well they would’ve never found her without Jake.

Dan picks me up from the airport. I haven’t told the others yet. Something about it felt off—like I shouldn’t message them and say hey, I know we haven’t spoken in a while, but I’m booking a flight to look into why my maybe-slash-not-really boyfriend left his belongings in a forest we really wish we could forget about, and by the way, can I crash at your place?

It’s quiet on the car ride back into town. I’m looking through my messages from Eric and the group from Redlog Pines and thinking about how I’m Duskwood with this group and I want so badly to laugh because it’s ironic, but Dan wouldn’t understand. He might just call me crazy. Better yet, he would ask how I manage to get myself into these situations, and really, I don’t have an answer for him.

“How have you been?” I ask, just to break the tension, as Charlie, in my messages, tries to persuade his friends to head back into that creepy cave in the middle of the forest. He’s going to get someone killed, I think.

Dan looks over at me. “Are you still with Hackerman?”

My chest squeezes. “His name is Jake, Dan. And we were never really together.”

“Hm.” He nods like he doesn’t quite believe me. “You already know mostly everything that’s been happening here. Thomas and Hannah called it quits. They say it was some mutual decision, but it’s hard to find them in the same room together. Jessy hasn’t been out with us since. I think we remind her too much of Richy. The group’s all changed.”

“And you?” I ask.

He gives me a cheshire-like grin that doesn’t quite meet his eyes. “I’m always the same.”

We make it to Duskwood just as the sun’s going down. Much too late for me to try and trek through the forest and retrace the steps Jake might have taken that night. Not that I think it would help give me any clues as to where he might have gone, but mostly because I wonder if it will make me feel closer to him. We’ve never been in the same place before, and even if he’s not there now—he once was.

“Can you drop me at the police station?”

Dan blinks. “The police station.”

I nod. “Yeah.”

“We answered their questions for weeks, [MC]. I don’t think anything you have to tell them at this point is going to help. The investigation’s closed. Everybody knows Richy did it. He died with the fire in the mine. Everybody’s trying to move on from that.” He works his jaw. “Did you come here to open old wounds after all this time?”

I try not to show the hurt look on my face. “This isn’t about Richy. Look, Alan called me. He asked if I could look at some things. I figured it was better for me to do it in person. That’s it. Nothing to do with Richy. Nothing to do with Jessy. Nothing to do with you.”

He sighs, and I’m not entirely sure he’s going to abide by my wishes until we pull in front of a tiny building—tinier than most—that says Duskwood Police on the sign. Duskwood must not have that much crime. Well, not until this, I suppose.

“Thank you.” I tell him as I reach over to undo my seatbelt and climb out of the car. “This is a nice ride, by the way.”

He raises a hand in some mock-salute. “Need me to pick you up?”

“Nah.” I shake my head. “Think I’ll explore the town for a little bit.”

“Suit yourself.” He shrugs and then he’s off.

I square my shoulders and take a deep breath before opening the door to the police station. It wasn’t like Alan asked me to come down here. He hadn’t. Even during the investigation into Richy’s death and Hannah’s kidnapping, when he questioned us, he never asked me to come to Duskwood. We’d done way too many video calls and phone calls and at one point, I had asked if he thought it would be easier for me to come to Duskwood, to which he responded back, are you ready for that?

No, I hadn’t been. I’m not even so sure I was now. But knowing that Jake was alive, that here was the last place was, I had to try.

“Can I help you?” The woman at the front desk asks.

I clear my throat. “I was wondering if I could speak to Alan Bloomgate. I’m one of—I was involved in the Hannah Donfort case. My name is [MC].”

Her eyes widen. “Give me a moment.” She stands and heads to some back office—which looks to me more like a closet—and then returns with a clipped smile. ��He’ll be right out.”

Apparently, she isn’t lying, because not two minutes later, Alan is stepping out from the same door and staring me down. I hold his gaze and hope it says that I’m not here to argue. I will tell him my truth, but only my truth, not Hannah’s, not Jake’s, not anybody else’s.

“I was wondering when I would see you.” He says.

I shrug one shoulder. “Isn’t a few months later better than never?”

“Let’s go into my office.” He says, and leads me around the desk and back into the closet space he had come out of. He sits behind the desk and motions for me to take a seat opposite him. “I’m just going to guess you’re not here to talk about Miss Donfort.”

“I want to see them.” I tell him. “His things. I want to see them for myself. And whatever you want from me in return, I’ll give to you.”

“You’re playing a dangerous game here, [MC].”

“He isn’t a game to me.” I snap back and then sit back and try to relax. “I appreciate that you called me. It’s—I helped you find Hannah. I would do it again. Even with knowing the things that we do now, I would do it all again. That’s how much that group means to me. That’s how much he means to me. I’m not asking you to break any rules or to lie for him or to—to let him hide in your basement for the next five years. I’m just asking you to show me what you found.”

He stares me down for a moment. Then, he sighs, says “wait here for a minute” and disappears to another room. When he comes back, it’s with an evidence bag in his hand filled with the objects I saw on his bodycam footage. My breath hitches in my throat.

“I can’t let you touch them.” He says as he lays them in front of me.

I stare into the eyes of the mask. “Did you tell anybody that he’s alive?”

“I don’t know that he’s alive,” is all the answer he gives, which is an answer to my question. I slide my gaze down to the black hoodie, to the dirtied sleeves and muddy hood, and think about the fact that Jake wore this. I’m so close to him.

And yet I’ve never been further away from him.

“Thank you.” I tell him. “For—for this. And for listening to me about Hannah. If you hadn’t, I—I don’t know what would have happened. How much longer he would have gone on for. If he would have ever stopped.”

Alan’s silent for a minute. Then, he clears his throat. “You know, it was strange to me. Both Hannah and yourself swore to me that neither of you knew the other.”

“I don’t.” I swear.

It was one of the (albeit many) things that didn’t make sense to me. How Hannah got a hold of my number. How she sent it to Thomas. She’d told Alan she hadn’t really remembered texting him my number at all.

“I believe you.” He reassures. “I just think it’s strange. One mistake, if you can call it that, and you throw yourself into a missing persons case to help a stranger.”

“They’re not strangers.” Even though Hannah is kind of still a stranger.

“But they were.” Alan reasons. “You had no reason to say yes to helping Thomas. I doubt anybody would have held it against you if you turned the other way. But you decided to follow this until the end. To make sure they found Hannah. And you care about them. Maybe that’s why I find that I’m more lenient with you than maybe I should be. Why you’re sitting across from me right now calling the shots. Why I’m not asking you about the hacker.”

“I wouldn’t tell you if you did.” I look him in the eye so he knows I’m telling the truth.

He returns my gaze. “Maybe that’s the other reason.”

“Hm.” I acknowledge before I turn my gaze away—from him, from the objects that I know belong to Jake and it takes everything in me not to snatch them up and run. “Well. Thank you for allowing me to steal some of your time. For letting me—” I cut myself off before I say something that makes me break down in a fit of tears in front of him. “—just thank you.”

Leaving the station is easier than coming in. I’m still not any closer to knowing where Jake is than I was when I arrived here, but there’s a comfort in knowing he walked these streets. I wonder what he would think if he knew I was here. He hadn’t wanted me to come to Duskwood when everything was happening…but now that it was over, would he be happy that I was here? That I had come to Duskwood to piece together where he might have gone? Would he track my location and come to find me and…or was I grasping at straws?

It felt like I had just gotten him back. Not really, not entirely…but knowing that he was alive, that he was out there somewhere, maybe thinking of me and looking for ways to come back, to live the life we talked about when he asked me if I was sure…that was worth it. The thought that we could maybe someday have that—even if it was a twenty percent chance.

I check my phone again to see a new message from Ash. She’s asking me if I’ve heard from Charlie in the last few hours. Apparently, he’s AWOL, and I want to help, really, but…it doesn’t really feel like that’s where I am at the moment. Not just physically—obviously—but mentally. We got lucky with Hannah. And that was really only because we had Jake. Adam didn’t have a Jake. Or…maybe he did and I just hadn’t met him yet. But I already had a Jake and I didn’t want another one.

Maybe—if I found him, I could convince him to help. That was a big maybe. Not because I thought Jake would say no. He would say yes to anything I asked of him. The maybe was whether or not I could find him. More likely, the maybe was whether or not he would find me.

Three months ago, I would have been able to come to Duskwood and have no shortage of things I wanted to do and people I wanted to see. Now, as I stand outside Duskwood’s police station, I feel nothing but loneliness. Nobody knows I’m here. I could pass Thomas on the street and he wouldn’t even know it. I could run into Jessy at the library and she would walk by me without even a second thought. Why would they? I hadn’t told them I was here.

So, with nothing left to do, I walked. Toward the town center. Toward the library that Jessy showed me on our walk through Duskwood. Toward the Rainbow Café where I knew that Cleo and Hannah had spent a lot of their time. Toward the Black Swan. Toward—

Ah, what the hell.

I had nothing better to do and The Aurora seemed like a great place to drown my sorrows. To think about my next steps. To figure out—now that I was in Duskwood—what I planned to do. The thing about Jake being so secretive (and on the run) was that I couldn’t retrace his steps. I wasn’t able to ask if anyone had seen him. One, because he would make sure nobody had. And two, because three months was a long time to forget somebody’s face if you didn’t know who you were looking for.

I pull open the door to the bar and step inside. Immediately, I’m hit with the stench of whiskey and a handful of chatter. Duskwood’s a small town. And The Aurora definitely proves it. The bartenders move melodically around each other, serving patrons on the other side of the bar. If you walk down further, there’s a handful of tables.

And dead in the center is a table with my friends. Or, some of them. Dan and Cleo and Lilly. Could I still call them my friends? Ex-friends, maybe? Acquaintances? I didn’t know what they were. Or how to address them. It wasn’t like we had gotten into a fight. We didn’t stop talking for any reason other than that we did. We stopped talking.

I make a beeline for the bar to avoid a confrontation and plant myself on one of the stools. One of the bartenders—a girl cute with bleach blonde hair and brown Bambi eyes—asks what I want and I channel my inner Dan to order a whiskey—neat.

Looking over my shoulder, I focus on the table of them. On Lilly, who’s smiling at something Cleo said. On Dan, who’s the only one of them who actually knows I’m here. But even he’s focused on the conversation they’re having. It’s strange—to see Dan a part of something I’m not sure he would have been before. It’s nice.

“[MC]?”

I turn my head away from the table of my friends and focus my attention across the bar on someone I should’ve expected to see. “Phil.”

“I thought I recognized your voice from when we talked.” He smiles. “I wasn’t sure, but I saw you staring longingly at them—” He nods towards Dan and Cleo and Lilly. “—and I knew. What brings you around here? I expected you to show up maybe a few months ago, but by now, I thought you’d moved on without us.”

I was tired of the words move on. Like I’d had a choice. Like the people from this town might open their arms and welcome me back into their lives. So I’d been part of the group who’d saved Hannah Donfort. So had a lot of people. It didn’t make me special and everyone here knew it.

I offer him a smile in return. “I’m looking for somebody.”

“Anybody I know?” He asks.

I shake my head. “Nah. At least nobody you would recognize.” I pause. “How’s Jessy?”

“She’s—Jessy.” He answers, like that is an answer. “I don’t know if she’ll ever really be okay with the way things happened with Richy. I wouldn’t expect her to. Obviously. But I don’t know. I think I just thought she would have gone back to her normal life by now. And then I remember that most of her life revolved around him. He was her best friend. She worked for him. And I’m trying to be patient about that. But—” He shakes his head. “Maybe you should talk to her.”

“She doesn’t know I’m in town.”

“Okay.” He hums. “So, you’re not in town for my sister. And you’re not in town for your group of friends because they’re over there and you look like you’d rather be anywhere else. There’s always Hannah, but I don’t think you knew her that well. Or at all. Would I be right to assume this is about a certain hacker who helped to find Hannah?”

“He didn’t help find Hannah.” I defend. “He was the entire reason we found Hannah. I would have never been able to do it on my own. Even with the others’ help. He’s the only reason we found out about—” I pause before I say something I maybe shouldn’t. “It doesn’t matter. He’s the only reason we found her. Everything I did was just dumb luck.”

“That wasn’t what the news said.” A voice cuts in and I turn my attention from Phil to focus on the stranger that slides into the seat beside me. Not too close—a couple inches away. I don’t recognize him. I don’t know him. But I don’t know every person in Duskwood. Maybe a total of like nine or ten. “I’m sorry to interrupt. But I heard you had a lot to do with finding Hannah Donfort. The news said you were some kind of hero.”

I offer him a tight smile. “That’s nice of them. But…if they knew my—friend—knew what he did to find her, I don’t think I would be as much of a hero as everybody says.”

“That’s noble.” He says, eyes meeting mine, and it strikes me at once how handsome he is. He has dark hair. Bright green eyes. Focus, [MC]. I scold. You have a…a someone.

My phone buzzes.

ERIC SENT A PHOTO.

ERIC: What do you make of this?

I sigh and click on the photo. It’s of—some object. Much like the one that was addressed to me on the envelope in Adam’s glove compartment. The image is a bit different—but I don’t know enough about what it means to have an answer as to why.

ME: Was this one addressed to me?

ERIC: Nope. Ash.

“Are you okay?” Phil asks.

I clear my throat. “I’m a popular person—apparently.” A thought strikes. “Have you ever heard of a place called Redlog Pines?”

Phil frowns. “No.”

I turn to look at the stranger. “You?”

“Redlog Pines is a small town about two hundred miles north of Duskwood.” He answers. “Known for their wooded forests, much like Duskwood.”

“Why are you looking into a place with forests as creepy as ours?” Phil asks, incredulously. “Didn’t you get enough of that with Hannah’s case?”

“Yeah.” I sigh. “You would think.”

“Hey, [MC]!”

I wince at the sound of Dan’s voice. Shooting Phil a look that screams please help me to which he shakes his head amusedly, I turn and plaster on a fake smile as I take in the shocked looks on Cleo and Lilly’s faces. I should have known better than to come to The Aurora and talk to Phil when the three of them were having a conversation across the room. I should have known they would sooner or later see me. I just hoped it was later.

“Hey.” I hop off my stool and make my way across the bar to them. “It’s, uh, fancy seeing the three of you here.”

“What are you doing here?” Cleo asks.

“I haven’t really figured that out.” My eyes meet Lilly’s. “It sounds crazy to say it out loud. But I was hoping that—I’m not sure if Lilly told you—”

“That Jake’s alive.” Cleo nods. “None of us ever really thought he wasn’t.”

I don’t think she means it as a dig—but it still feels like one. Like she’s saying you gave up on him you gave up on him you gave up on him even though she’s not and she didn’t really know him and the only person I can talk to at this table who even might understand is Lilly and even—Jake didn’t confide in her the way he did me.

“Right.” I acknowledge. “So I thought that maybe if I came here, I could trace his steps from when he was here and—I haven’t really thought that far ahead. It’s not like I thought he left me any clues in the forest or anything like that. I don’t think he expected me to be here. He hadn’t wanted me to be the last time we talked. But that was before everything happened.”

Lilly’s eyes track behind me. “Does Jake still have Nymos on your phone?”

“Uh.” I furrow my brows. “I think so. I hadn’t heard from him in a while, but I went back and read through our messages after I talked to Alan and…my phone glitched, like it used to when Jake had hacked it. And then this message appeared on my screen.”

“And by chance, can Nymos track your location?”

“What—” I shake my head. “Maybe. I don’t think I ever really asked him. It didn’t seem necessary at the time.”

“Uh huh.” She focuses on me once more. “Let’s say, for one minute, that Jake has access to Nymos who has access to your location.”

Cleo must catch onto something I’m not sure of. “Jake didn’t want you here.”

“Uh, thank you?”

“You know that’s not what I mean.” She waves me off. “He didn’t want you in Duskwood. He had been adamant about that when we were talking about the mine. That’s why he went. If you showed up in Duskwood—”

“Nymos would have alerted him.” Dan finishes.

“Okay…” I’m not entirely sure I’m on the same page as them. “So—you think that Jake found out when I came to Duskwood.”

“Correct.” Lilly beams like she just solved life’s greatest mystery.

“And you think he would—come find me?”

She smiles sympathetically at me—like I’m the world’s biggest idiot for not realizing what she has been trying to say sooner. “I think he already has.”

“You think Jake’s in Duskwood.” I deadpan.

“[MC].” Cleo grabs my shoulders and turns me around. “We think he’s in this bar.”

Stranger, as I had nicknamed him—AKA the guy sitting beside me at the bar, with Phil and Redlog Pines (which he probably only knew about because of me) and the whole Hannah being kidnapped and not taking any of the credit thing—was looking back at me. So was Phil. Like they thought I was the crazy one. Like it would’ve been so hard for him to look and me and say it’s me or anything that might have clued me into the fact that—

“Jake?” I whisper, because I’ve lost quite a bit of sleep over the past couple of months and I’m not one hundred percent sure what—or who—I’m seeing is real. “Are you here?”

He tilts his head and smiles at me. Actually smiles. A bit shyly, like it’s something he’s not used to doing, but maybe like it’s something he could get used to. And I think about how terrible I probably look right now because I’m not wearing makeup and my hair is tousled from constantly pulling at it and my clothes are wrinkled from the plane and the police station and I look like a mess. But our relationship has never been about looks. Clearly. I didn’t even know the person I’d been talking to until Lilly and Cleo and even Dan pointed out the obvious.

“If I—” I close my eyes and open them again. Nope. Still there. “I need you to still be there by the time I reach you because it’s been a—” I sniffle. “—it’s been a rough few months and I don’t think I could handle you disappearing again.”

He stands from the stool he was sitting on and shuffles his feet. Like he’s not quite sure where he’s supposed to stand. If he thinks about moving, I’ll tackle him onto the floor of The Aurora and then apologize to Phil later. It feels like everything I wanted is right here in front of me. And I’m scared to death that it’s not real.

“What’s one thing you would take with you if you were stranded on an island?”

His smile stretches. “My computer.”

And that—that’s what breaks me. I think I might start blubbering like an idiot but I don’t remember the time it takes for me to cross the measly twenty feet between us. All I remember is grabbing his black hoodie—because of course—and dragging him to me. I don’t kiss him, despite how much I want to, because I don’t want our first kiss to be tainted with my snot and tears. Instead, I bury my face in his collarbone and wrap my arms around his neck and hold on for dear life.

Because I can. Because he isn’t dead.

“Y—You’re here.” I pull back and cup his face with my hands. “How are you here?”

“You came to Duskwood.” He responds, and then—hesitantly—he presses his lips to my forehead in a kiss. “Alan called you.”

“He found your things in the forest.” I whisper back. “He said they’d been there a while. The police hadn’t searched the forest because they assume you died in the mine.”

“They aren’t looking for me here.” He confirms. “I didn’t expect it to take so long for them to find my belongings, but I anticipated that you would find out. At the time, it wasn’t safe for me to reach out and contact you. They kept on my trail for a while before they assumed I died in the mine with Richy.”

“Why didn’t you contact me then?” I ask. “Is it because of what I last messaged you? I didn’t mean it—I swear, I thought you were dead. If I had known you were alive, I would have waited, however long it took. I wasn’t trying to give up on you.”

“Hey.” He places both hands on either side of my face. “I know. I know that, [MC]. That was never why I didn’t reach out to you. I know you said you wanted this life with me. But I didn’t want that for you. But I was selfish. I couldn’t let you go. So I was trying to find a way to make both of those things true. But I was always coming back to you.”

“And did you?”

“Come back to you?” He asks.

I sniffle. “Find a way to make both of those things true.”

“Not entirely.” He admits. “Nymos alerted me you had boarded a plane headed in the direction of Duskwood and I—” He shook his head. “I knew I would find you here.”

“You could have found me sooner.”

He lets go of my face and he feels like he takes my skin with him. “It wasn’t that easy.”

“It could have been.” I demand.

I’m angry again. Now that I know he’s alive and okay and that he could have found me, I’m angry that he didn’t. I told him I would choose that life with him. Over and over and over. He didn’t need to make the decision for me. He didn’t need to try and protect me. And yes, maybe the fact that he did makes my heart flutter a tiny little bit, but that’s besides the point.

“I told you before you left me.” I tell him and I’m aware it sounds like we’ve been in a relationship for five years and I’m aware that everybody in here is watching and listening in on our conversation and they probably all know we’re who we are, two people involved in helping to find the kidnapped Hannah Donfort, and maybe that’s all we’ll ever be in this town. But I would rather be the girl who found Hannah Donfort in Duskwood with him than be me anywhere else. “You told me you would let me go with you.”

“That was before I told you I loved you.”

My heart skips a beat. It screams I love you I love you I love you back, but I say— “What does that have to do with anything?”

He looks somewhat amused. Like he knows I would never hold it against him. It’s clear to both of us that I wouldn’t because even though I’m glaring up at him with my furrowed eyebrows and my lips pouted, I’m still pressed tightly against him. His hands—even though they’ve moved from my face—are now resting on my hips. Pulling my tighter to him. There’s no space in between us. If it was up to me, I’m pretty sure there never would be again.

“[MC].” He says, and oh god I wish he would say my name every day for the rest of his life. “Have I—in the short time we have known each other—ever struck you as the type of person who says I love you? But with you…” His words are a whisper against my lips. “It’s easy to fall back into old emotions with you.”

“I want to be angry with you.” I tell him.

He shakes his head. “No, you don’t.”

“No, I don’t.” I agree. “But I might be if you don’t kiss me.”

He brought one finger underneath my chin and tilted it up until our lips were separated by a fraction of an inch. My eyelids fluttered. I didn’t care that everyone in here was about to see just how much Jake meant to be. I didn’t care because I had waited too long for this. And then—just as I’m leaning toward him to press our lips together, he whispers— “[MC]?”

“Hm.” I acknowledge.

“Who’s Eric?”

My eyelids crack open and I shove at his chest. “That’s what you’re worried about right now? Here I am, in front of you, covered in snot and tears and who-knows-what-else because you’re here right now, and you’re worried about some guy I don’t even know?”

“Who’s Eric?” He repeats.

“Ugh.” I run my hands through my hair and take a step back. “I don’t know. He’s the other side of Thomas or whatever you want to call him. If we lived in a different town.” I glare back at him and try not to admit that I think his jealous side is a little cute. “He messaged me. Thought I picked up his friend from some parking lot and I didn’t, but his friend sent him my number, and it was Hannah all over again. I’m trying to help them.”

“This Adam has been sending you a lot of videos.”

“You know I hate when you hack my phone.” I complain, even though I really don’t. Even though I had prayed for him to help me with this case. “I really don’t know Adam. Like—even less than I know Eric.

“But you know Eric.”

“For like a week.” I reassure. “He added me to this group chat with him and like three other friends of his. They’re desperate to find Adam who has apparently dropped off the face of the earth and I don’t know what to do. I had you with Hannah’s case. And you knew her. And they—” I look over my shoulder at Cleo and Dan and Lilly, who are pretending like they’re not listening in even though I know and Jake knows they are. “—they knew her. And obviously Adam’s friends must know him but I don’t and you don’t and there is no Jake in Redlog Pines.”

“I don’t trust him.” He shakes his head. “Any of them.”

I laugh. “Jake, you didn’t trust half the people in this bar when we first started talking.” I look over at Phil and then Dan. “It doesn’t mean they committed a crime. If I had backed off when you asked me to help you find Hannah, we may never have.”

“I thought that was all thanks to me.” He sounds smug, like that little smiley face he loved to annoy me with (AKA make me fall in love with him). “Did he flirt with you?”

“No.” I deadpan. “I think he was focused on his missing friend.”

“I was focused on my missing sister.” He shoots back.

I close my mouth. Alright. He has a point. But I wasn’t flirting with Eric. He was focused on finding Adam and I was focused on mourning—and then finding—Jake. Maybe it felt like Eric and I were two sides of the same coin. Maybe that’s why I agreed to help him. Because I didn’t want to happen to him what I thought had happened to Jake—to me.

“You’re being ridiculous.” I say instead. “How do you think I could ever entertain the idea of being with somebody else when for the past three months—more than that if you count the time we have actually had together—I’ve been focused on you? On discussing Hannah with you and then talking to you about anything and everything and then worrying about you and then hating you a little for convincing me you should me the one to go into the mine and then mourning you when it was hard to even think about you and then finding you?”

His eyes are wide. I think I’ve rendered him speechless. Which—serves him right. I know he’s not somebody who serves their feelings up on a silver platter. I know that. Obviously, I knew that from the first time I spoke to him. Back when he was nothing more than ??? and I was almost convinced that Dan was right and he was the Man Without A Face—a thought that I now hate with everything in me. But I need him to trust me. Jealousy streak and FBI and the missing persons cases aside, he needs to trust me.

“Trust me.” I cup the sides of his face again. “He’s nothing like you.”

He swallows. “Some people might consider that to be a perk.”

“I don’t.” I say.

And then I’m kissing him and it feels like coming home.

[traumawhomst]

Ok but yandere Orcs yes please

Tw: Physical abuse not done by a side character, and physical violence to a side character.

(1,300 words)

Part 1

There had been a “War” with the Orc Empire for as long as you could remember, but honestly from what you could tell it was really more along the lines of scattered boarder skirmishes, one side would take ground and the other would eventually get it back.

It wasn’t really talked about much, other than the soldiers who passed through your Uncle’s Tavern, who’d rather talk about cards or romantic exploits.

You’d come home late one night from working, only to one of the barn doors was propped up instead of hanging on the hinges. A closer inspection revealed that it had been pulled off its hinges and then leaned against the other door to make it look like nothing had happened.

It was probably due to the fact that you’d been awake for roughly eighteen hours that spurred you to grab an old carving (probably dull) knife and kicked down the barn door.

The door hit the floor and a thick cloud of dust rose up and around the fallen door. It got in your nose and eyes and you couldn’t help but sputter taking a step backwards.

Your mind froze when you heard another coughing before it then started to think of the worse possible scenario. You wiped your eyes clutching the hilt of the knife and looked into the dark barn.

To find an Orc only as upright as the back wall could support, one hand raised and the other pressed against what looked to be a stab wound. Blood seeped from between his fingers and soaked his shirt and pants.

There was no anger in his eyes, his body loose and defeated. He apologized for the door and the mess he was making, promising to leave as he tried to stand up. He couldn’t get further than a single knee before collapsing again.

You couldn’t speak or move as he tried to leave, your mind struggling to understand everything that happened. Well you didn’t move until he fell again, then you told him to stop moving and you’d be back.

You nor no one else ever said you were smart, and that’s the reason you gave yourself as you grabbed clean bandages and water. You sighed at yourself before also grabbing a blanket as well.

He’d stiffened when you silently approached him until you showed him the water and bandages. He almost laughed when you knelt next to him and started to do your best to clean it. He didn’t fight or argue though, at first watching you before closing his eyes and relaxing.

He was passed out by the time you’d finished, exhaustion and blood loss finally took its toll. You watched for a while making sure his chest rose and fall before you tossed a blanket over him and did your best to prop the barn door back to how it was before.

You overslept the next morning, no time to eat before running to your work much less check on a half dead orc.

You found yourself thinking about him often, wondering how he was feeling. If he was comfortable, if he was alive. The worry was enough to keep you awake for the hours of sleep you’d lost to him.

You took more food than you usually did stealing it off plates where it had been untouched, carefully wrapping it and hiding it before your uncle could see. Just in case.

He was not dead, when you returned and was more than surprised to see you splitting the food you’d brought silently handing half to him before you stood up.

That was the first time he touched you actually grabbing your wrist without any real force. You looked at him and could see a hundred questions swirling in his eyes. Instead of asking those he just asked to eat together. He’s not used to eating alone.

And you do, you sit back down and for the first night you eat in near silence, as you two got comfortable just being near each other. He didn’t stop from leaving a second time.

His face did light up when you wished him a goodnight though

So you fell into a comfortable if odd routine. You’d spend the day working, him trying to heal in your barn and then come together for dinner. You both were orphaned before the start of adulthood, and it was nice to speak to someone about it without worry of how it would spread.

He was funny and charming, you found yourself laughing and smiling more in those few nights than you had in the years since your father died. He was easy to talk to and he seemed to enjoy it as much as you did. It was probably the fifth night when you found yourself excited to go home and speak to him.

You knew that this was dangerous, the longer he stayed the more likely he get caught the more likely you’d be thrown in jail. You told him he could stay as long as he needs to.

On the eighth night you came home later than usual, a bounce in your step that you hadn’t had in years. Even the regulars at your Uncle’s pub had noticed and started to speculate on who or what had made you smile so much. You still had to hide it, any smile would be taken as offense by your uncle who seemed to think he owned your emotions along with your father’s debt.

But tonight you managed to get twice as much as you normally did and you were excited to sit and talk with him.

And he was gone.

Panic clawed at you as you looked hoping to find him in some corner tucked away but no. He was gone. Your heart sunk as you realized there was only two options.

Either he was found by soldiers. Or…

He left without saying goodbye.

Hurt threatened to tear open your chest as stand again alone in the silence. You try to tell yourself you were an idiot to think he’d say before leaving, of course he was always going to take what he could and run. A meaner part of yourself told you that this would happen with everything you loved and enjoyed.

You shoved the food in your mouth, not even tasting anything as you just tried to eat as much of it as you could. Your stomach hurt but you’d manage to stop crying by then. You told yourself how much you didn’t care.

You slept in the barn that night unable to sleep anywhere else.

You’d over slept for maybe the first time in years ending up showing late to your Uncle’s pub. He did not take it well, throwing things and screaming, hitting you more than once.

And then someone pries him off you, and you look up and see a massive figure in armor and boots that added at least three inches. He held your uncle up in the air one hand around his neck. You watched your uncle struggle and turn purple and only then to do you think to move.

You look at the figure again, and realize they’re wearing a helmet made to look like falcon completely covering their face. They turn towards you as you scramble, dropping your uncle to the ground.

You didn’t get very far before, one solid hand grabbed your shirt and yanked you towards him. You tried to fight but they was much stronger than you and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

They pull you to the door where two Orc Soldiers waited and moved when the figure pulling you barked an order.

Three massive horses waited outside and you tried to struggle again, firmly but gently you are pushed on the up on the horse, your captor behind and the four of you were off.

[asunflowerana]

a good kind of nuinsance — Suna Rintarou

summary: you have a big project coming up, and to make things even worse, you're forced to work with the most stupid, handsome moron on campus.

genre: comedy, enemies-to-lovers trope.

n/a: not me pretending i'm the best friend haha. also, good reading!

“It will be fine!” She said. “It could be worse, trust me. And it will end soon!”

You wish you could stop believing in your best friend.

College is already a nerve-wracking place to deal with it, increasing even more in junior year. You need to work on your assignments, do presentations, fight yourself everyday to not procrastinate 24/7 or call off sick ‘cause your bed is too appealing; and in the end, you always freak out with your final exams, coffee becoming your best friend and clock your worst enemy.

What you don’t understand though, is why, in such a chaotic atmosphere, you still need to do group work?

And why, of all the people on this big campus, you got paired up with Suna Rintarou?

The struggle is real.

It’s not that you hate him. No, that’s not the case at all. It’s just that spotting his face alone is enough to make you want to change sidewalks even if the traffic signal is green and Formula 1 is happening on the street.

It all started with a single bump on the cafeteria entrance. His unnecessary hard body bumped against you and your hot chocolate cup, making all of your precious drink spill and fall into your previous white All Stars sneakers, staining the fabric and burning your skin to the soul.

And that boy had the nerve to mumble a “Watch where you’re going” before giving you a cold shoulder and leaving in a hurry.

Tables turned and you had your redemption one day later, refusing to lend him your notes of an important assignment, useful for the upcoming exams. It’s not your fault that his bicycle tire got pierced on the way to class, he should have been prepared and woken up early like every poor student in this college.

This “not so pleasant but still fulfilling” war has been going on between you guys for weeks. But unfortunately, his presence became more than a nuisance to you, and you absolutely detest now the way your heart flutters when you see that punk walking on the hall with that stupid, pretty face.

Annoying, handsome, punk.

And since your “so called” best friend knows about your hidden feelings, she decided to come up with a stupid solution for it.

You, her, Suna and Bokuto Koutaro, her adorable but very much ingenuous boyfriend, were supposed to do the group project together at a cozy cafeteria a few blocks from the campus main building, known for their delicious milkshakes and pretzels.

Nowhere to escape, you accept the invite, hoping your friend could take your mind away from Suna’s intruding. That, until Bokuto shouts:

“Shoot, I forgot there was practice today!” So exaggerated, he totally has no vocation to be an actor.

And your bestie had the audacity to join the act, forcing out a grimace. “Sorry guys, but we need to go.” She announces, not sorry at all, Bokuto taking her backpack with him like the doting boyfriend he is. “Please enjoy our milkshakes, we’ll text you later to see what you guys decided!”

“Good dat— I mean…. Bye!” Bokuto takes her hand and storms away from the cafeteria.

You can only sigh, disappointed at yourself for not predicting this might happen.

“Did they really leave us?” Suna asks incredulously, noticing the filled notebooks the couple left on the table. “They even made their parts already!”

You turn your gaze to him, feeling the beginning of a migraine.“Look, I’m not thrilled to work with you either. But the faster we start, the faster we’ll get rid of each other.” You proposed with little patience, taking a sip of your friend’s untouched strawberry milkshake. “Now, take that milkshake and let’s finish this quick.”

He huffs, but your surprise doesn't fight with you on this, and you both start a two-hours circle of working in silence, bickering at each other and working in silence again, making small progress with your parts on the project. You even start to agree with each other, Suna finding your suggestions “smarter than expected”, and you finding his ideas “not so bad for a moron”.

It’s strange, the feeling of being in agreement with Hajime on something, and it's noticeable his efforts of making the process as peaceful as it can be. This friendlier side looks actually cute on him (not that you were checking him out for the past thirty minutes), so you decide to be nice too, for the sake of good grades.

It only lasts a few minutes, and soon you’re arguing again.

“The information needs to be in Z. No one will pay attention if you fill the poster with notes all over it!” He argues one more time, trying to prove his point about the best position to the notes.

“But we need to put all the information we gathered! If we do it your way, we’ll need three more posters , and that's a waste of paper!” You defend your point as well, not wanting to back down from your proposition to the project’s presentation. 

“Well, if you want to really save paper, then you should stop wanting to put everything we wrote down inside a poster, when we don’t have to!”

“We do, if we want good grades in this class. Oh wait, I forgot, you don’t really know what it's like.!”

You’re both staring at each other dangerously, breath heavy and quick, like two bulls ready to strike each other. Thank goodness you’re in a distant booth, or you guys would probably be kicked out by now for the shouting.

Suna runs his hand over his black locks, tired of this unfinished argument. “You’re too annoying , you know that?” He hisses. 

“And you’re so stubborn, argh, I can’t stand you in my head anymore!” You almost shout out your frustration, letting slip the last words by accident, but lucky for you Suna’s too angry to catch what did you mean.

“Well, I wish you could leave mine too, but you’re still there every day!”

You’re shocked. Your heart’s pace fastens and your body suddenly feels numb, completely bewildered by his confession. Suna avoids eye-contact for a few seconds, staring at the table with a terrified look, his face reddening as the seconds go by. Why did he say that to you?

“I—” He clears his throat, trying to come up with a quick excuse to cover his mistake.“ I didn't—”

“What?” But you don’t leave room for excuses. “You didn’t mean you like me?”

His eyes widens. “No! I…. I….” He sighs. “ I didn’t mean to say it like that! But if you really want to know… yes. I like you. " He moves his eyes in your direction, taking your features for a moment. "Even if you get on my nerves every single day, I can’t get you out of my head. And I know we’re not on the best terms, but I can’t just pretend anymore…” He doesn’t need to finish his line. You’re just so overwhelmed with his confession, that staying a few moments in silence makes Rintarou take that as a rejection.

“I should go.” He begins to rise from his chair, but his movements are interrupted as you quickly hold one of his wrists, preventing him from moving away. He looks at you surprised.

“Would you find it strange if I said that I can’t pretend anymore either?” You can’t say the right words aloud yet, timid of what he might do with your confession, but the growing, pretty and genuine smirk on his face tells you made a good decision by opening yourself to him.

“I guess I own you a hot chocolate, then?”

© asunflowerana 2024 — all rights reserved.

[hellfirenacht]

Wing Man 14

Fic Summary: Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you’ll wing man for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie.

Chapter Summary: Corroded Coffin audition with Paige, and you take more than one risk.

6.2k Words

(Master List 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13)

“Are you sure it’s okay for me to be here?” You asked Eddie as the rest of Corroded Coffin piled out of the back of his van and started pulling out their instruments. You pulled your jacket closer around you, trying to shield yourself from the bitter wind right outside of Live Mike Studios. “I’m really not trying to be the Yono Oko here.” 

“You’re fine.” Eddie reassured you for probably the hundredth time in the past two weeks. “You’re just here for moral support, and to show Paige and her suits that we have at least one fan.” He handed you his guitar case and you slung it over your shoulder as he grabbed the amp while the others were grabbing Gareth’s drum set and hauling it inside. 

“Do you need the amp?” you asked.

He stopped for a moment, his brows furrowed and then set it back down in the back of the van. “Right. They’ll have one inside.”

“I mean, we’re at a recording studio. It makes sense.” You replied as Eddie shut the van door and turned back to you. In the few moments he had been out in the cold, his nose and cheeks had turned red which only added to the anxiousness in his eyes. 

Eddie said it was fine for you to be here, so you decided that at this point it there was no use arguing. Actually, that point probably came about an hour ago when he picked you up, kicked Jeff into the back of the van and had you sit up front next to him as you drove out of Hawkins to the studio where Corroded Coffin would be meeting with Paige and her people. 

You were a little intimidated to meet Eddie’s ex, especially since she held the future of your... boyfriend?  Eddie in the palm of her hands. It had been only a few weeks since that night in his trailer, but things had been going surprisingly smoothly all things considered. There had been no more miscommunication, no faking intoxication to get rides home, and the deal you had with Steve was dead and buried. 

The only thing that seemed to hang between you and Eddie was that you two hadn’t talked about what you two were or might be. That was one thing you never could wrap your head around when Steve talked about going on dates. He’d be going on multiple dates with different women, but he said it was all casual right now. That he was dating, but it wasn’t like he had a girlfriend yet.   

You couldn’t imagine dating more than one person at a time. Steve said you were thinking about it too hard, you said you didn’t want to hear that from him. Steve said that you clearly were doing well with Eddie, so you didn’t need to worry about dating anymore. You said that you still didn’t fully understand the difference between dating and being boyfriend and girlfriend. Steve said if it bugged you that much then to just talk to him about it. You threw an empty receipt roll at him for daring to give you good advice for once. 

There hadn’t been a good time to bring it up yet. After that chat with Steve, Eddie had announced that Corroded Coffin had an official audition with Left Turn Media. This meant that Eddie’s time had been all but completely been consumed by band practice, school, and work at the Hideout. 

Not that he hadn’t made time for you, of course. Eddie had picked you up and dropped you off every shift he had at the Hideout where Bev promised that he could play. It turns out that possibly being signed got the band more stage time. Not much, but more than just the usual half-hour per week that was allotted to them. 

He spent his nights with you, coming over after school or work to hang out in your shitty little apartment that was still decorated for Halloween because you hadn’t had the time to take them down. Eddie said that he liked the decorations, and that he thought it was pretty metal that you went so hard for the holiday, which only encouraged your laziness in taking everything down. 

Things were going well, and your crush on Eddie only grew more by the day. You didn’t want to mess anything up with him by moving too fast. 

Besides, today wasn’t about that. Today was about Corroded Coffin and their audition with Paige. Eddie had been worried about this for weeks now, even though you had said several times that this audition felt like a formality and that Paige seemed to really want to have him on board. 

Eddie didn’t seem entirely convinced, pointing out that the last time they auditioned WR Records had wanted only him, and didn’t want Corroded Coffin as a whole. 

Everyone made it inside the studio, instruments in hand. Eddie had taken his guitar back and you assisted with bringing in the drumset to set up in the recording booth. The band looked around in awe at the interior, despite how simply laid out it was. There was a palpable excitement within the group as this moment became more and more real. 

“Eddie!” A girl with freckles and dark hair walked out into the lobby to greet you all. This had to be Paige. 

You stood to the side as Eddie and Paige hugged awkwardly, and you weren’t sure how to feel about that. Paige then went to the remaining members and shook their hands and introduced herself. The only other person she seemed to already know was Jeff. Eddie had mentioned that he had been the only one truly around for the first audition. 

Then she turned to you, and looked you up and down for a split second before offering her hand out. 

“I’m Paige, you must be the girl Eddie mentioned.” She said. 

You took her hand and told her your name. “It’s nice to meet you.” 

The girl Eddie had mentioned. Not girlfriend or the girl he was seeing. Dammit, you really needed to get out of your own head about that. That was a conversation for later, not right now. You and Eddie were dating, that was a fact. Eddie had turned down this girl to date you. 

But seeing the way Paige interacted with everyone, doubt crept into your mind as to why. Paige was pretty, there was no denying that. Her outfit was the perfect combination of professional and alternative and here she was, offing the guy you were dating everything he ever wanted. 

Then there was you, at your dead end job as the assistant managed of a retail store, wearing clothing you still wore in high school and completely clueless as to what the fuck you were supposed to do with your life and where you were supposed to be. 

Eddie and Paige belonged in music, anyone with two working brain cells could see that. Paige led everyone to the back area where there were several people waiting at the recording console. A few were in suits and a few looked like they had just crawled out of bed and staggered over. 

You weren’t sure which were more intimidating. 

“There’s some coffee and water on the table, if you’d like to grab something while we talk to the band.” Paige said with a smile. 

“Right, yeah.” You nodded and just as you were about to turn away, you felt someone grab your hand. 

Eddie gave your hand a squeeze and you swallowed any insecurity and gave him your best reassuring smile. 

“You got this.” you said, and leaned in to kiss his cheek before you realized what you were doing. You didn’t look at him as you made your way to the small coffee station and grabbed yourself some water. Your stomach was already tied up in knots and you were sure that coffee would turn your inside to liquid right now. 

You took a seat on a couch and watched as Eddie introduced himself and the band to the people in the room. Eddie’s skin looked pale with nerves, but other than that you would have thought that he had done this a hundred times. There was something about him that always exuded confidence, even when he was nervous. 

After everyone had shaken hands, Paige took over and led a few people in suits and at least one person in the beat up AC/DC t-shirt into a back room. Eddie turned to his band and nodded, and everyone filed into the booth to set everything up. 

The next hour was warm up and sound checks. The guy at the mixing booth kept muttering to himself and then giving directions in the microphone for everyone to hear him. Each time Eddie would nod and someone would adjust their instrument or play a sample. 

After about ten minutes of this, they launched into a warm up cover of an old Dio song, which they played twice, followed by the song they were actually going to audition with. 

You wished you could hear them, in the soundproof booth you could only see them playing their instruments. You almost got up to ask the guy at the booth for an extra set of headphones so that you could hear how they sounded. Based off of what you were seeing though... you weren’t confident that they were at their best. Eddie kept stopping them, and would either say something to the guy running the booth or to the rest of the band.

After about a half hour of this, the guy in the booth called for a break. Eddie was the first to set down his guitar and walk out, not looking at you as he made his way out to the hallway. You followed him instinctively, not looking the look on his face. 

In the hallway, Eddie was bonking his head against a vending machine, making the chips and candies inside rattle. 

“You know, a quarter would be easier to get something out.” you said, walking over to him. 

Eddie looked up at you, his fringe plastered to his forehead from sweat. “I think I’m losing it.” he said. “I can’t seem to get us together to play the way we should. We either sound like we’ve never been on a stage or too polished. This happened last time too.” 

“Have you tried imagining the audience in their underwear?” you offered. 

“The only person watching is the guy in the booth. He’s not the scary part.” Eddie turned his back to the machine and leaned against it. 

“What’s the scary part?” 

“Everything else.” He rubbed his face with a deep sigh. “Paige, getting a deal, letting my band down again... I can’t shake it.” 

“Whatever happened last time was a big deal, huh?” you said, placing a hand on his arm. You felt how tense he was, which worried you. 

“You have no idea.” he shook his head, dropping his hands. “Last time was a fever dream. It... fuck it’s hard to explain. Everyone kept telling me how real I was, that I had what it took to make it. I was going to meet all these major executives for a major label and I blew it. Now, I’m trying again and this time- this is gonna sound so fucking stupid.”

“I won’t judge.” you promised.

“This feels more real than last time and it’s throwing me off.” He admitted, his body sagging against the vending machine. “An instant record deal with the biggest company for metal? It felt like a goddamn fever dream where I was somebody. I did shit I wasn’t proud of to get there, and now I’m trying to do things right for once and I feel like I want to book it out of here screaming.” 

You grabbed his hand and his froze for a moment before squeezing it. 

“You know, I don’t think you should run away.” you said, looking at him. “Only one of us can be a p ussy, and I already took that title in 8th grade.”  

Eddie’s head snapped from the distance to your face, eyes wide. “What?”

“I mean, think about it. You’ve been playing for years at the Hideout, you rock. You know it, I know it, Paige knows it, and I suspect the rest of your band might know it too. You’ve gone this far, you might as well try. What’s the worst that can happen at this point?”

“You-” Eddie stared at you for a second, trying to decide how to respond. You didn’t blame him, you had just started talking at him hoping that something would stick. “...I guess the worst thing is that I could be a pussy for running away.”

“Yeah, and I already claimed that title and already ran away from an audition. We can’t both blow it, Eddie.” you nudged him. “We can’t be that couple that has to constantly copy each other and do things exactly the same. Don’t be a copy cat.”

You could swear there was a slight blush on his cheeks under the glow of the vending machine. “You’re a weirdo.”

“And you’re a freak. The music world is full of freaks. Go in there and get freaky or something.” 

You felt him relax next to you and he pushed himself off the vending machine to face you. “Thanks.” he said and leaned down and kissed you. 

You squeezed his hand as you returned the kiss, and he let his lips linger a bit longer than necessary before there was a cough from the doorway. 

Eddie pulled back and you both looked over to see Paige staring at the two of you with a raised eyebrow. 

“Are you ready?” she asked, glancing between the two of you before landing on Eddie. 

Right when you were going to let go of his hand, he squeezed yours tighter and started walking towards Paige. “Yeah, I’m ready.” 

Once he was back in the booth, all eyes were on Eddie as he picked up his guitar and put it on. The men that Paige had been talking to were now in the room, huddled around the panel. One of the guys in jeans was setting up a camera in the recording room, making sure everyone was in frame. 

This time, you made your way to the front as well. It was a bit crowded, but you stood next to Paige with your feet firmly planted on the ground. You were not going to be intimidated by Eddie’s perfect ex after she’d caught the two of you kissing in the hallway. 

Paige leaned in and took the mic to talk to the band. “Alright, whenever you’re ready guys.” she said. 

Okay, maybe you could be a little intimidated. But that doesn’t mean you were going to run away or shrink yourself down. 

This time, you could hear the band from inside the recording room. You saw Eddie turn to Gareth and nod, and in return the drummer counted everyone off. 

The first take was better than what they had shown during warm up. They got through the first verse before one of the men in the suits leaned over to whisper something to Paige that you couldn’t make out before she called for Corroded Coffin to pause. 

Eddie looked over through the window, and any fear on his face had been replaced with all business. Paige gave them a note about their pacing and Eddie nodded and they started up from the beginning. 

This went on for about a half hour with the band playing and then being stopped for notes. Each note was being taken to heart, and with each take they were getting better. 

Which only confused you more when they couldn’t go through a full song without being stopped for some note. You could tell that everyone was getting confused and frustrated that each time they started they had to stop for some reason or another. 

“They’re too polished.” One of the men muttered, looking at Paige. “They look like shit, but they’re playing like a high school marching band.” 

You held back any amusement at the idea of Eddie in that stupid green marching band uniform with the feathered cap. 

Paige sighed, and looked at Eddie with furrowed brows, and gave him another note into the mic. Something was... off. These guys were giving Corroded Coffin note after note, but that wasn’t going to unlock what they really needed. 

“Thanks for coming out tonight, we’re Corroded Coffin and we’re here to make you feel like you’re fighting demons in hell!”“

You remembered that first night you had sat and watched them play at the Hideout. That’s what Corroded Coffin was supposed to feel like. They were supposed to be wild and raw, and make you feel like you were fighting in hell. 

Notes from a bunch of suits weren’t going to do that. 

What you were about to do was probably going to overstep so many boundaries, but your impulse control was thrown out the window. 

Taking a step back, you looked at each of the members of the band, trying to decide which one looked the most frustrated. Eddie looked stiff, Zack was fiddling nervously with his guitar, Jeff actually looked the least bothered... and then there was Gareth. Gareth looked like he was trying to burn a hole in his snare drum from the way he was glaring at it. 

Making sure that none of the suits were paying attention to you, you waved your arm at Gareth. He looked up at you confused, probably wondering why the hell you were looking at him right now. You hoped this worked, and you hoped that they’d forgive you for this later. 

“Hey.” you mouthed to the kid. “Fuck you.” 

Gareth blinked and his eyes went wide. He leaned back slightly, staring at you looking offended. 

You gave him your best. ‘Yeah, I said it. What are you gonna do about it?’ face. His grip on the drumsticks tightened as he glared at you. 

You yawned and glanced over at Zack, making eye contact with him. You hated doing this, and knew this was a shot in the dark to give these dumb suits what they wanted. You crossed your arms and looked him up and down, with a condescending smirk, mimicking the way that the popular girls used to look at you. 

You saw him mouth ‘What the hell?’ and this seemed to catch Paige’s attention for a second as she glanced at you while the suits were still muttering to themselves, oblivious to how two of the members of the band were now looking at you like you’d lost your mind. 

Jeff looked over at Gareth and then followed the line of sight to you. He just snorted and shook his head, his fingers absently walking along the strings of his bass. You had a feeling that provoking him wouldn’t do anything, so you looked at Eddie. 

He still looked stiff as he stared at the men watching him. Thankfully it was Jeff who walked over and nudged him and tilted his head towards you. 

There was a serious look in his eyes for a moment before he blinked and his expression softened. You smiled at Eddie. He smiled back. 

Then you pointed at yourself and then at him, earning a confused look as you pretended to dig into your pocket and pulled something out. Once your fist was in view of him, you shot your middle finger up at him. 

His head tilted down, and his eyes widened as you flipped him off. You pretended to dig into your other pocket and presented him with two birds for the price of one. 

“Freak.” you mouthed to him. 

You saw the way his grip tightened on the neck of his guitar and he looked back at his band. They all looked annoyed as they waited for the suits to let them know they could play again. 

Eddie looked at each of them and nodded before turning back to the mic. 

Gareth didn’t even wait for the signal before counting them off and starting their song. They were off, their music blaring through the room at an intensity and rawness that you’d seen at the Hideout, and that night at the talent show so many years ago. 

The suits looked shocked that they had started again so suddenly, but a glance at the men made it clear that they could see exactly what you saw. You took another step back, not wanting to interfere anymore than you already have. 

“Alright, I’m jealous.” Paige said, stepping next to you. 

That... was unexpected. You looked at her, but she was staring at the band with her arms crossed. 

“Sorry?” 

“If all it took was you flipping them off, I would have asked you to do that first.” Paige said. 

“They just needed something to snap them out of their nerves. They play better when they’re not being studied like bugs.” you shrugged, your breath catching slightly as you watched Eddie play. How the fuck did you manage to land a guy as hot as him? 

Paige was watching his as well with a thoughtful expression on her face. The suits had quickly shut up and were now watching Corroded Coffin with the attention they deserved. 

“I had my doubts about the new line up.” Paige admitted. “The first time, it was only Eddie that anyone was interested in.”

Even you? Is what you wanted to ask, but you held your tongue. 

“He works better with them.” she continued. “And with you.”

You glanced at her, but Paige just kept her eyes on the band as they played. 

“I don’t think he ever looked at me like that when we were together.” Paige continued, the corners of her mouth turning up. 

“Like how....?” you managed to asked, thrown for a loop at the turn of this conversation. 

“Like you’re a real person. A friend. A girlfriend.” Paige shrugged. “We had fun, and wanted the same thing but... I don’t think he really saw me. And I don’t think I really saw him.”

You weren’t sure what to say, so you kept your mouth shut as Corroded Coffin finished the song with a fire in their eyes. 

There was muttering between the men and the guy who had been in charge of the camera nodded. 

“That was great guys,” one of the men said in to the mic. “Now can you do that again with that AC/DC song-”

Before he could even finish, Gareth was counting them off and they started playing again. This time all the men chuckled at the enthusiasm. 

“You know, we already got the take we wanted.” The recording guy said. 

“I know, but I wanted to hear them play this one. It’s my favorite song.” the suit shrugged. 

“Are you really banking their audition on how well they can cover your favorite song?” Paige asked. 

“Not officially, but it helps.”

With the way the band was playing, you had a feeling this extra credit wouldn’t be a problem. Now that they had found their footing they were now taking off, looking like they were fucking flying as they ran through the song. 

A few requests later from the men, and the boys finally were able to file out of the recording booth, flushed beaming.

The men in the suits shook everyone’s hand with a promise that they will be in touch soon with an offer. 

“And offer...?” Eddie asked. “Wait does that mean-?” He looked between the suit and Paige quickly. 

Paige smiled at him. “I always had every intention of signing you, but we’ll need to talk business to decide on how we can market you all.”

Everyone looked at each other, their eyes wide. It was like it was just now occurring to them that this was really happening. That they had auditioned and were liked. 

“Oh fuck, my mom is gonna freak.” Gareth said, his eyes wide. You had a sneaking suspicion that Gareth may not have told him parents that he was doing this. 

After a few more handshakes and gathering everyone’s contact information, everyone broke down their instruments and started heading to the parking lot. 

“Holy shit.” Jeff was the first one to say anything as they stepped outside of the studio. “Did that really just happen?” 

Eddie, looking a little shell shocked, opened the back of his van and helped put Gareth’s drum set inside. It was silent for a few moments as they all put away their instruments in the back of the van. Eddie turned to look at his friends, who were all staring at their leader for confirmation that what just happened was real. 

You watched as Eddie looked at each of his band mates, his face firm for a moment before breaking out into a wide smile.

“WE DID IT!” He yelled, nearly jumping three feet in the air. The rest of the band followed suit, screaming and cheering and jumping up and down and grabbing onto each other. 

Their joy was contagious, and you watched as they celebrated, your own heart swelling with joy at seeing them succeed. Though you had only known them for a few short months, you couldn’t be more proud of them. 

Firm hands grabbed your shoulders and started shaking you, and you let out a surprised cry, gripping onto Gareth's arms. 

“What the fuck was that about in there?” He asked, laughing his ass off. “We’re in the middle of the most important audition of our lives, and you tell me to fuck off?!”

“Actually, I said fuck you.” you clarified as he shook you again. 

“Yeah, what the hell was with that look you gave me?” Zack asked. 

“You guys weren’t getting anywhere with what those guys were saying- Gareth please I’m gonna puke if you keep shaking me!” you said, and Eddie came to your rescue, pulling the drummer off you. 

His arm wrapped around your shoulder and pulled you in close. “We should be thanking her. She’s our biggest fan and she knew that the best way to get us out of our heads was to piss us off.” 

“I’m just glad it worked. I was really worried that I’d just make you all mad at me instead.” you admitted. 

“We’ll forgive you this time.” Jeff laughed. 

“So now what do we do?” Zack asked. “We just wait for them to call us back?”

“Basically.” Eddie said. “This is gonna be the waiting game for a while. Paige said that they’re still setting up the real studio.”

“The real studio?!” Zack stared at Eddie with his jaw hanging open. 

“I’m sorry, was that a fucking fake studio?” Gareth stared hard at Eddie. “Were we playing for a bunch of fake men in fake suits with fake notes?!”

“No, Gareth the Great, that’s not what happened.” Eddie used his free hand to ruffle the younger kids' curls. “Paige is setting up a studio for Left Turn media around here. She said it won’t be done until next summer.” 

“Dammit, I was hoping that meant we could quit school and focus on the music like you said the first time.” Jeff laughed. 

You looked at Eddie with a raised eyebrow and he shot Jeff a look. “If I have to stick with it, so do all of you.” He said firmly. 

“Dammit.” Gareth muttered. 

A chilled gust of wind cut through you like a knife and you found yourself moving closer to Eddie to steal his warmth and he pulled you closer. 

The drive to drop everyone off back at home in reality was filled with excitement as they all discussed what had just happened. Once they all remembered that you were watching from the other side of the booth, you were bombarded with questions on what the suits had said that they couldn’t hear. You answered everything as best as you could remember, still thinking about how Paige had admitted jealousy towards you of all people. Of course, that’s not something that they would actually care about. 

“They said you all look like shit.” you said from the front seat. “But I think that was a good thing. When you guys were sucking they said you sounded like a high school marching band.” 

This critique was met with yelling and denial but you held your hands up. “Don’t look at me, I’m just a fly on the wall. They shut up pretty fast when you got your shit together though. Also the one in the tan suit liked your cover of Highway to Hell. That scored you points because it was his favorite song.” 

By the time you all entered Hawkins again, they had exhausted every last ounce of information from you. Talks of the audition had been exchanged for dreams of grandeur and what it would be like to be big time rockstars. One by one the band was dropped off, hope in their eyes with the idea that this was the start of something big. 

Once at your apartment, Eddie collapsed on the sofa face first. You smiled and went to the kitchen and brought him a beer. It took a bit of coaxing but he finally sat up and took a long drink from the bottle and smiled at you. 

“Holy shit.” he said. 

“Holy shit.” you echoed. 

“I feel like I’m on top of the world and like I just walked all the way to Mordor.” Eddie shook his head, that smile never fading. 

“Nerd.” you said affectionately, leaning against him. “You did great, Eddie. I’m really proud of you.”

“Yeah?” he looked into your eyes. “I’m... I’m proud of me, too.” 

“You should be, you kicked ass.” You smiled at him. “And they’re gonna come back with a million dollar deal where you get to keep your master copies, get insane royalties, and get you set up with a world tour right away. You’re gonna chart at number one for weeks and you’ll get so popular everyone’s gonna get sick of you within two months.”

Eddie let out a laugh “Everyone’s already sick of me.”

“See? You’re already ahead of schedule. Good for you.” Eddie just laughed and shook his head. “...Not everyone is sick of you.”

Eddie’s hand moved to the back of your neck and rubbed the skin there absently, making goosebumps prickle your skin. “Most of this town is.” He said after a while. 

“Most isn’t all.” you countered. “I’m not sick of you.” 

“A brave woman. You should get a medal for dating the town freak. Most girls run away screaming by now.” He joked. 

“Pfff, you wish you were as scary as your reputation. I’ve been more intimidated by suburban moms at Family Video.”

“Sweetheart, you’re hurting my feelings.” He set his beer down and pulled you in closer. ��If word gets out that I’m not the mean satanic spawn everyone thinks I am, then no one will take my music seriously.” 

“I’d make fun of you and point out that you put a lot of D&D references in your songs, but I’ll be nice.”

“I’d hope my girlfriend would be nice to me.” There was a waiver in the keyword in his sentence that you didn’t miss. 

Your heart made a weird thumping movement in your chest and you stared at him. “...Girlfriend?” You managed to choke out. 

Eddie stared at you for a moment, looking as though he had royally screwed up. You felt that arm around you twitch as he decided if he should pull away or not. 

“Yeah I uh...” he stumbled. “Thought maybe since you weren’t seeing anyone else and I wasn’t seeing anyone else-”

“I’d love to.” you said, your whole body felt like fireworks were going off. “I mean, if you’re good with it. I just assumed you’d at least keep me around as a groupie.”

Eddie doubled over laughing, his hair moving wildly as he shook his head. “Groupie implies that I’m going to share you with the band, and there is no way in hell I’m doing that.” 

“Oh good!” you let out a dramatic sigh of relief. “Because, between you and me, Gareth is just a tad young for me.” 

“Not into Juniors?” Eddie asked. 

“I generally don’t date high school students at all, but there are exceptions to every rule.” you said, crawling onto his lap and straddling him. His hands moved to rest on your hips and he looked up at you. 

“Listen about that I-” he started, but you cut him off. 

“I’m not gonna judge.” you said. “I had summer school every single year of middle school and sophomore year. It doesn’t change anything.” 

Eddie kept staring at you and took a deep breath. “...I sell drugs.”

Ok, that wasn’t what you were expecting. You stared at him blankly and looked him over. “What do you sell?”

“Are you looking to make a deal, or should I be careful how I answer that?” 

“I’m just looking for honesty.” you said. 

“Weed mostly.” Eddie ran one of his hands through his hair, his rings getting tangled in the curls for a moment. He struggled to break free as he continued. “Bennies... Special K....” 

“I take it that’s not a breakfast cereal.” you said, helping him free his tresses from the heavy rings. 

“No, not exactly.” Despite his wry answer, there was quiet laughter in his voice. 

“I guess it could be worse.” you said. 

“I just want you to know who I am before getting into something you might not want.” Eddie said, his fingers messing with the fabric on your thighs now that they were free from his hair. 

“Eddie,” you cupped his jaw and looked at him. “I like you. You like me. Stop trying to get me to dump you 2 minutes after calling me your girlfriend.” 

“Shit, sorry.” He sighed. “Yeah, I’m being a total dumbass right now, aren’t I?” 

“Only a little.” You dropped your hands onto his shoulders. 

“I know I’m not exactly the biggest catch. I’m a 6th year senior who’s already dropped out once, and a lot of people here think I'm some sort of Devil worshiper.” Eddie leaned back on the couch. “I’m just saying that dating me might not be the easiest.” 

“I’m in if you are.” you said, leaning over him, letting your fingers slide down his chest slowly. You couldn’t help but smile as you saw the doubt in his eyes immediately turn into Boy Brain at your wandering digits. “Are you in?”

His eyes darted down to your hands and then to your eyes and then to your lips. It was a little funny seeing him struggle internally with what you were offering. 

Eddie blinked and snapped out of that daze for a moment before nodding. “I’m in.” 

“Good.” you leaned in and kissed him. “No take backs.”

Eddie leaned up and met your lips in another kiss, deeper than before. His arms moved from your hips to slide around your waist and pulled you closer. You moved your hands back up to wrap around his neck so you could press your body against his. 

The two of you stayed like that for a few minutes, losing yourselves in each other as the rest of the word seemed to disappear. When you felt his hand slowly slide up your torso, stopping just below your breast, he pulled back and looked at you. 

“Is this uh... do you mind if...?”

You couldn’t stop yourself from giggling at how surprisingly polite he was being. The two of you had made out a few times, but hadn’t exactly taken that next step yet. Not that you hadn’t wanted to, and by the way you shifted and felt that insistent tent in his pants you didn’t think he’d have any objections. 

“Do you want to take this to my room?” you asked. “You can stay here tonight, if you want.” 

Eddie’s expression shifted into a sly smile. “Normally, I’d ask you to buy me dinner first, but you did that already a few times over.”

“Well, then I guess you owe me a few times over.” you smirked. 

“Good thing we have all night.” Eddie stood up as you slipped off of his lap, taking your hand in his. 

“Think you can go all night? Sure you aren’t wiped out from your big audition?” You teased him as you led him to your room. 

“Well, according to you I’m a hotshot rock god who’s about to go on a world tour.” Eddie closed the door and followed you to your bed where you laid down. He pulled his shirt off and crawled on top of you, the pick around his neck sticking to his skin. “If I can jump around on stage for hours and satisfy a stadium of adoring fans I’m sure I can satisfy my girlfriend.” 

“I like the sound of that.” you said, before pulling him into a deep kiss. 

Outside, a layer of snow started to dust the ground, but thee two of you had no trouble keeping warm for the rest of the night. 

a/n: I had a very long think about whether or not to add smut to this story and came to the unfortunate conclusion that it felt weird to add after such a chaste story. HOWEVER, with the series coming to a close within the next 2-3 chapters, I do plan on writing a few side stories. If you all ask REALLY NICE (ie: If at least one person says it lol) I will write smut for Eddie and Reader as a one shot.

We're really coming up on the end here, folks. I really can't believe that you all have stuck around this long. It's been almost a year since I started this story, and I really can't wait to see how this all wraps up! Yes, I know I'm the author, but that means absolutely nothing.

Dividers by: @strangergraphics

Tag List @k8loo @terrormonster55 @sp1dyb0y1008 @crocwork-clockodile @ali-r3n

@mxcheese @josephquinnschesthair @gagasbee @peaches-roses-sins @witchwolflea

@vintagehellfire @royale1803 @cumslutforaemond @prestinalove @browneyedgirly93

@perpetualmessmachine @thebook-hobbit @cultish-corner @grishaversecaptivated @sortagaysortahigh

@siriuslysmoking @huffledor-able541 @pookiesnatcher @eddiesguitarskills @browneyes-8288

@sheneedsrocknroll92 @kores-mun-son-n-more @eddiebuttcheeks @kirsteng42 @dreamerjj

@moonisu @em022O @cosmorant

[thir10th]

The getaway pt.1 - Emily Prentiss x fem!reader

ALL OF THESE CAN BE READ AS STAND-ALONES

summary: you and Emily have been dating for several months now. When you finally get a free weekend, you decide to go on a little secret romantic getaway. tw: nothing yet, just fluff, a tiny bit of suggestive content but it's literally just a conversation, nothing else. secret relationship. a/n: you guys seemed to really like the idea so here it is! this first chapter so it's mostly to set the mood

Your leg shakes under the dinner table, waiting for Emily to finish up cooking dinner, her body swings around the kitchen, moving fluidly and confidently at the rhythm of the music she had chosen to play to set the abience.

You know she loves cooking, but you also know after getting home from a week-long case, this is the last thing she wants to do.

She always insists: "no baby, i'll cook, you can just sit there and look pretty, let me take care of it" and you loved her for that, but it hasn't been 12 hours yet since you had chased an unsub for three blocks.

She deserved a break. You both did. You had already decided that.

The pasta plate she sets in front of you with a big smile takes you out of your head, you smile back, it smells amazing, there's no doubt about it.

"I'm starving" she says, dropping on the seat in front of you, grabbing a fork and rolling up the spaghetti.

You move the pasta around, looking at her eat, trying to decide how to phrase it.

"what?" she asks mouth-fulled, noticing your stare.

"I wanted to ask you something" she leaves the fork, slurps up one last spaghetti hanging from her lips, and wipes her mouth with the napkin. Now you have her full attention.

"ugh, I'm... flattered, but-" she says in a sarcastic tone, but you cut her.

"relax, Em, I'm not asking you to marry me" she chuckles "i was thinking... you know how, if no case comes in tomorrow by five, we are having the whole weekend for ourselves, right?" you start.

"yeah, why?" she asks impatiently.

"well, I was talking to Penelope the other day, about how she had found this amazing hotel with Kevin, how they had had the best time, with activities for couples, good food, a big pool, you know, all that" she listens carefully at your words, without interrupting you, takes a sip of her wine, and nods, considering the idea.

"ok look" you grab your purse, taking a booklet you had printed out specifically for this conversation, hoping the images would convince her, you hand it to her so she can take a look.

She runs her eyes, scanning the photos on the booklet and reading over the information.

"it's been a long week, you deserve a break. We deserve a break" you conclude.

"Ooh- each room has a hot tub, and full time room service! and a steam room too?" she points out, looking at the pictures.

"And a balcony with views of the pool from every room! this could be it, Em, it's perfect for us." you add, after spending the whole trip back on the plane looking at their website, you had pretty much memorized it.

Emily angled her head to meet your eye. “If I have my way, you’ll be too occupied to appreciate the views.” the playfulness of her words making you smirk.

"So is that a yes?" you sigh in relief.

"Of course, sign me up!" a wide smile of excitement crosses her face, you let out a triumphant sound, shooting from your seat, walking up to her to grab her face and kiss her lips.

She grabs you by the waist and pulls you to sit onto her lap, your arms surround her neck, her grip tight on your hips to hold you in place.

"Oh, this is gonna be so nice! Think about it, no kids, all inclusive hotel for couples, no more hiding, nothing to worry about, just swim, and sex, and food" she grins at your words, her thumb traces slow circles on the skin left uncovered your shirt

"I could get used to that" she says kissing you again, this time longer, lovingly.

"honey?" she says, pulling away. "Yes?"

"You have already made the reservation, haven't you?" her profiling skills really never fail to amaze you.

"they had an excellent limited time offer, and i was pretty confident you were gonna say yes once I'd show you the booklet" you admit, and she chuckles, instead of getting upset, she just smiles at you and pecks your lips

"what have i done to deserve you?" she says, the dreamy sound of her words making you blush.

"well, dinner just now, and i believe i heard you say something about that balcony? with the views?"

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

She frowns at her computer, sitting on her desk, she has been staring at the screen for a considerable amount of time now, you quietly walk behind her.

"exciting, isn't it?" she doesn't hear you coming by, your words startle her making her jump in her seat

"you scared me" she mutters so no one can hear the conversation.

"sorry" you sit on her desk, right in front of her "i just thought if you're gonna spend the last fifteen minutes staring at the clock, we should do it together"

She tries to fight the smile that threatens to spread on her face, she bites her lip and gives you a loving look with her big doe eyes.

"you know, this room is full of profilers, if they saw you here in my desk only a couple of minutes far from five, they might suspect something is going on here"

"something like what? no one has even noticed i'm here, i seat on your desk everyday, nothing new" you say, her eyes leave the computer screen to look at you now.

"oh, i don't know, something like: we have been dating for three months and as soon as we leave this building we are driving two hours to spend our weekend on a hotel resort for couples?" she says sarcastically.

"i just thought it would be fun to watch when the clock strikes 5:00 together, you know, just like in new year's eve, but without the kissing for obvious reasons. Although there will be plenty of that this weekend" she bites her tongue at your words. Teasing Emily has always been so much fun for you, since it's usually the other way around that she teases you.

"the last thing i want you to remind me is how we are actively lying at the people we care most about" she argues, trying to keep her cool

"well, no need to worry about that anymore" you say, and when you both look at the screen, the clock has turned. 5:00 pm, no case has come in, we're free" you state. You stay there, sharing a moment, you stare at each other's eyes.

"god, but how i wish i could kiss you right now" she mutters breaking the silence, her eyes move down to look at your lips, and just for a moment you consider the possibility of sending it all to hell and kissing her senseless right then and there.

"y/n, any plans for the weekend?" Morgan's presence takes you by surprise, he comes behind you carrying is bag, so close, it had been so close, but you'd have to pull up with your coworker's teasing too.

"uhm, yeah, well, not much, no, just, a movie maybe, but who knows really?" you say, Emily tries hiding her grin, but fails.

"did you hear about Prentiss' weekend?" Morgan asks, you shoot a look at her

"ugh, no, big plans?" you say looking at her, lifting an eyebrow in faked confusion

"She, is going away with her girlfriend" he teases, a cocky smile on his lips.

"a girlfriend?! Prentiss! who is the lucky girl?" you say, a little louder than intended. She looks annoyed now that you're joining the teasing from you coworker.

"it's a secret, apparently" Morgan explains, Emily opens her mouth to speak, but only a defeated sound comes out.

"what? really?" you keep up the play, but she shoots you a look of warning, one eyebrow up, her arm on her hip.

"ok, you know what? I'm gonna leave now, you guys can speculate all you want" she takes her bag, and walks to the elevator, you and Derek follow her closely, she does her best to hide her smile.

"hey, I myself feel pretty offended that she won't tell us, after all we've been through, don't you think I deserve a little better?" he says, holding his hand to his chest, while you three wait for the elevator.

"Now, I'm having some ideas of what you deserve right now" the slightly threatening tone of her voice makes your heart throb. You just want to let her push you against that elevator door, let her do whatever she wants to you.

"you know what, I think I'm gonna keep it to myself, just this one time" she concludes, getting out of the elevator, Morgan whines, but she doesn't let it go.

"ok, this way for me" he says, turning right to go find his parking spot

"I'll walk with you" you tell Emily, the corners of your lips curving into a smile. You both say goodbye to Morgan, he leaves with one last "i hope you have a nice one, Prentiss!" and leaves.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Entering the room, you realize how more spacious and comfortable it is that you though, although you should've guessed, considering the fact that i could fit a hot tub on one corner, a full bathroom and the king-sized bed without making it feel narrow.

The hotel bellboy opens the room for you, hands you both of your keys, and leaves. Emily had already taken it upon herself to carry the bags, as they aren't all that heavy. Plus she loved doing those kinds of things for you, carrying your bags, the kind of things you would tease her about for being the chivalrous kid of girlfriend.

After all, you're only staying for a weekend, even if Emily didn't really understand that you don't actually need that many pairs of shoes for only just two nights total.

You look around everywhere, walk to the bathroom, the shower is perfectly big enough to fit you both, and two sinks. You check the hot tub, nd finish your tour by walking to the windows and opening the curtains.

The broad balcony has two chairs, and direct views to the pool, you're high enough to go completely unnoticed by anyone who looked up from it.

You drop to the big bed, star-fished out, meanwhile Emily leaves both your bags right next to the bed.

You sit up, standing to meet her as she looks around the room herself, appreciating the size of it.

"wow, this is almost bigger than my living room" she says, still surprised.

You walk up to her, grab her by the hips and pulling her to you "what do you think?" you ask, she surrounds your neck with her arms, and kisses you sweetly.

"mh, i love it" she purrs, a soft smile on her lips, and kisses you again, this time softer, longer, her lips soft and reassuring, making sure you knew how much she loved it.

"and I love you" she says, her hands running through your back now, "even if you just spent a considerable amount of time mocking me" she adds, and you chuckle.

"it was perfect, he doesn't suspect a thing!" you try to defend yourself, but she's already kissing your neck, finding your pulse point that she knows drives you crazy

"yeah but you didn't think i'd let you just get away with it just like that, mh?" she says, trapping your earlobe between her teeth and biting it softly.

"well, as much as you know i want this, we have to go down for dinner, because someone claimed she didn't need any directions to find the parking lot, and that took about, half an hour" you say teasingly, giving her a soft swat on her ass, unwrapping your arms off her waist to hold her hand.

Emily pouts at the loss of contact, interwining her fingers with yours "well, i found it didn't i? yes, it might have taken me a little longer than expected...."

"half an hour, Emily! We are gonna miss dinner, c'mon, and you can think about how to 'not let me get away with it' when we get back" you grab the room key, and pull her with you, walking out and heading to the elevator door.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

okkk what are we thinking? this was an introduction more than anything, just to set the story.

Feedback here would be greatly appreciated, specially because if you guys have any ideas on how i should continue, or any specific scenarios, i'd be happy to try to add it!!

Like & reblog as always, I'll be publishing the next chapters as i write them so stay tuned for that <33

[triviallytrue]

I see the benefit in “was able to follow along each step and check for myself that the stated claim was true” but I’ve also seen people say the private vetting process can include things like “had a phone call with them where they fluently spoke the Palestinian dialect of Arabic” that can’t be checked by everyone, or “privately showed me their ID/birth certificate/bank info/official documents”, which probably shouldn’t be publicized. if these sorts of things (which seem fairly reliable if true) are indeed being involved in the process in at least some cases, how do you think people should vouch for that beyond a “trust me it’s vetted” without further clarification, or is it impossible to do so from your perspective since they could just lie?

so my suggested solution to these would be:

post a recording of the phone call, so that other Palestinian Arabic speakers can also attest that it's true

post redacted, watermarked versions of official documents

but you're getting at a very big problem: it takes a lot of information to vet people. the post i reblogged was only able to vet that one fundraiser because she's a PhD with a linkedin, instagram, tiktok, and pictures of her on a scientific organization's website. most people won't have that.

at a certain point, it also becomes a nightmare for the vetters (all or almost all of whom i suspect are just people trying their best in a horrific situation). if it takes an hour (or more) to fully vet one single gofundme, there are a single digit or low double digit number speakers of Palestinian Arabic on here with blog histories that stretch back before October 7th with the ability to vet people, and hundreds of gofundmes... well, you do the math.

this is the kind of work that is normally done by people who are paid to do it full-time, in a centralized fashion, not ad-hoc on the internet. amateurs are going to make mistakes - i've seen blogs successfully filtering out unsophisticated scammers, but this current discourse has already rooted out at least 3 scammers who made it onto the vetted lists. it's asymmetric - scammers can do this full time, hone their methods, figure out what exposed them last time and fix it, and overall iteratively improve the credibility of their scams, but vetters can't really keep raising the standards with the time and resources they have access to.

so unless we make the standards so high that they exclude many actual Palestinians (standards like the ones used in that ask), i think there will be some risk of even vetted fundraisers being scams. how big? 1%? 5%? 10%? i don't know, but it's definitely nonzero, and based on the uncovered scams so far, they are diverting thousands of dollars (possibly tens or hundreds of thousands) away from actual Palestinians.

which is why i think people should just donate to the UNRWA. there's a 100% chance your money will go to helping real Palestinians, and while it won't be as impactful for an individual as getting them across the Rafah crossing, that's only an option for a very small percentage of Palestinians anyway. as said before, there are 800,000 Palestinians in Rafah, something like 500 of which cross each day. those that can't cross and the Palestinians in other parts of Gaza deserve aid as well. people are at risk of starvation and have very limited access to medical care. donation to the UNRWA and organizations like it doesn't free anyone, but it does keep them alive, and the money doesn't end up in the pockets of corrupt Egyptian border officials who will wring every penny they can out of Palestinian refugees.

people are, of course, welcome to do whatever they want with their money, but those are my 2 cents.

[schrodingerspsycho]

Another Shot - Chapter 1

Pairing - Sam Carpenter x Reader

Warnings - None

Word Count - 1.5k

Summary - Enemies to Lovers. An unexpected reunion throws you for a loop.

Help Palestine by clicking this link!🇵🇸

You heard the bell above the door ring and started making your way to the front counter. It was a slow day and Tara, your new coworker and friend, was already up there, but you liked talking with the customers. You saw she was already helping the group and planned on hanging back in case she needed anything. That was until you recognized the tall woman grinning down at her.

“Sam?” You approached the counter cautiously, and her face fell when she saw you. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

“Y/N.” Her icy tone paired perfectly with the cold look in her eyes. You glared back at her. You couldn’t believe she had the gall to treat you this way; as if you were the one who-

“Wait, you two know each other?” Tara’s eyes darted between you, undoubtedly trying to decipher the tension that hung in the air.

“Yes,” you replied, without sparing her a glance. “We used to… hang out. Back in Modesto.”

“What are you doing in New York?” Sam asked, and you felt the pang of a long-forgotten hurt pierce your heart.

“I told you I was saving up to start classes at NYU,” you said, the bite in your voice sounding more like a whine. “You know moving here was my dream. We talked about it so many times.”

“Well, I must’ve forgotten,” she said unapologetically. “It’s been a long time.”

“Yeah,” you snapped back. “It has.”

“Woah,” breathed the guy standing behind Sam. The girl next to him slapped his arm.

“Why don’t you introduce us to your friend, Tara?” she blurted with a forced smile. “Since they’re already well acquainted with Sam.”

“Yes! This is my friend Mindy and my boyfriend Chad,” she said, and they waved at you. You smiled back at them, determined to leave Sam in the past where she belonged. “And this is Y/N. They were my trainer when I first started, and they’re my favorite person to work with.”

“Aww, thanks, T,” you smiled, placing an affectionate hand on her shoulder. Sam’s eyes flashed toward you dangerously, and you relished the fact that you could piss her off so easily. It was far from the comeuppance she deserved, but the small satisfaction almost took away the sting of seeing her again. “I’ll let you take care of your friends here. Let me know if you need anything.”

“Yeah, okay,” she nodded.

“It was nice to meet you,” you said, waving to Chad and Mindy. You couldn’t help but glare at Sam as you left, your emotions getting the better of you. “Of all the fucking people that could’ve shown up tonight,” you muttered to yourself, “why did it have to be her?”

You busied yourself with wiping down the trays, trying your best to keep your mind off of Sam. Fortunately, you were still an expert at that, and soon you were so engrossed in your task that you didn’t see Tara approaching you.

“Hey, what’s your beef with my sister?” she demanded. She didn’t sound angry, which was a relief, but she showed no intention of letting the matter go.

You shook your head, avoiding her eyes. “It’s nothing.”

“That was not nothing!”

“It’s in the past,” you declared. “If you really want to know, you can ask her what she did. But I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay.”

Her brows were knotted together in a troubled expression, her voice losing the loud confidence she always had. You didn’t have to know Sam to know she hadn’t told her little sister anything about the years she’d been away. But unfortunately for you, you did. You sighed.

“It was personal shit. You don’t need to worry about it. But it would be best if you take her order whenever she comes in here.”

Tara nodded and headed back to the front of the diner. Even though it was half an hour early, you decided to clean the bathrooms. Anything was better than having to face Sam again.

“Okay, what was that?” Mindy whispered loudly as they sat down.

“What was what?” Sam said, refusing to meet her eyes.

“That thing between you and Tara’s coworker! What did they do? I haven’t seen you that unhappy to see someone since Ghostface!”

Sam closed her eyes and shook her head. “What? No, that’s not… no.”

“Oh, c’mon! You used to “hang out” back in Modesto? What does that mean?”

“Hey, that’s Sam’s private business. She doesn’t have to talk about it if she doesn’t want to,” Chad said, ignoring his sister’s gasp of betrayal. Then he turned to Sam with the most adorable, pleading expression he could muster. “But I’ll buy you a milkshake if you tell us what happened.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Are you trying to bribe me? With a milkshake?”

“Is it working?”

“No, it’s not,” she replied, smiling in spite of herself. Mindy slapped Chad’s arm.

“Damn it, that totally would’ve worked when we were kids! Why aren’t you cute anymore?”

“Hey, I’m cute! I’m very cute, ask anyone! You think I’m cute, right, Sam?”

Sam just rolled her eyes. She was glad that after all these years the twins were still the same goofballs they’d always been, but that didn’t mean they weren’t a pain in the ass sometimes.

“-No, wait, shut up! We have to get to the bottom of this!” Mindy exclaimed, interrupting the argument she had started. She turned back to Sam, still far too excited considering what she was probing her about. “Please, you have to tell us! I’m literally going to die if I don’t hear this tea!”

Sam sighed and rubbed her eyes. She knew they weren’t going to stop. “We were friends, and then we had a fight. There’s really nothing else to report.”

“You are such a terrible liar, you know that?” Mindy smirked. “Fine, if you won’t tell us, we’ll figure it out on our own.”

Sam groaned, knowing she meant they planned to use Tara to get to her. But it wouldn’t work this time. Not even her beloved baby sister could get her to relive what had happened with you. At least, not for anyone to hear. That dreadful night had been replaying in her head from the moment she saw you, merciless in its vividity.

Luckily, the twins dropped the interrogation, and she didn’t see you again for the rest of the night. But the damage was done. You were in New York City and back in her life. Of all the places Tara could’ve chosen to go to school- to work- why did you have to be there too?

Sam tried not to think about you, she really did. But she’d never been good at keeping you off her mind, at least not on her own. She was thankful for the chaotic distraction the twins provided with their constant light-hearted bickering, but when they left for the bodega to get a midnight snack, she was left alone with her memories of you.

Before she could spiral too much, Sam heard the front door open. At first, she was relieved to see Tara. But she should’ve known better.

“Hey, how was the rest of your shift?”

“It was fine,” Tara replied with a tight-lipped smile. “What happened between you and Y/N?”

“What?”

“I asked them, and they told me to ask you what you did.” There was a look of apprehension in her eyes, but it wouldn’t be outdone by her morbid curiosity. “Sam, what happened?”

“It was nothing.”

“Don’t give me that “it was nothing” bullshit! I’ve never seen you freeze the way you did when you saw them, and I didn’t think Y/N could get that angry!” Tara took a deep breath and Sam shrank under her gaze. “You know I don’t judge you for whatever you did while you were gone, but the tension between you two was palpable. And you know the kind of tense shit I’ve seen.”

Sam swallowed, stuffing her hands into her back pockets and shifting her gaze to the floor. Tara waited patiently, and when she finally spoke, her voice was soft and shaking. “Let’s just say that when I knew Y/N, I was at a very bad point in my life. I did a lot of things that I regret. But there’s nothing I can do about it now.”

“That’s not an explanation,” Tara said, throwing her hands up exasperatedly. “I have to work with them every day now, I think I deserve to know what happened!”

“But you don’t, though,” Sam said, finally meeting her eyes and sounding as tired as she felt. “You can be friends with them if you want, I don’t care, but what happened between us doesn’t concern you, Tara! You need to leave it alone.”

“Sam-”

“I’m going to bed,” she stated, turning around swiftly and cutting off Tara’s attempted apology. She shut her bedroom door without a backward glance and leaned against it, covering her face with her hands. She wouldn’t cry for you. She refused to give you that kind of power.

A few miles away, in your own second-floor apartment, you didn’t grant yourself the same respect.

[haikyu-mp4]

Media presence, part 2

word count; 797 – gn!reader

go read part 1 first for the best experience

You didn’t spend most of your time around the volleyball players themselves. Their managers communicated with you about their events and you used all the information you had to make sure everyone looked good and everything was well-prepared in terms of their image. It’s a busy job, but you would be lying if you said you didn’t love it.

Some days you would spend all your hours in the office, either at home or at work, and some days you got to join the players to make sure everything went well. The day after your talk with Sakusa, there was a photo shoot for a sportswear advert and they wanted your problem children.

All four of them had their makeup done and were dressed up in their first outfits, which were beach-themed. They walked out of the changing rooms and stood in a line, adorned in various shirts with shorts of different lengths. You were picking at their clothes, rambling about how important it was that they tried to coordinate so all four could shine in every photo while they nodded along without even registering your words.

Meanwhile, you also made some observations. For example, you looked at Atsumu and hummed in appreciation. “They put you in the shortest shorts like I told them to, good.” You knew what the fans liked and gave the customer some pointers ahead of time. This visibly boosted his ego and you chuckled under your breath as you moved on. “Make sure you give the other guys some pointers, ninja Shoyo. I advised them to put you in the front for this theme.” Then you looked at Bokuto and tilted your head. “I thought I suggested a different hairstyle, but you look great, buddy.” All he heard was look great. Finally, you looked at Sakusa, and you would be dead before you admitted to taking in a breath from seeing him up close without a mask.

He blinked at you, hoping he looked bored even though his heart painfully begged to get a compliment from you. It took you a moment to collect yourself and he smiled just a little. You cleared your throat, looking him up and down. He was wearing a skin-tight top, making his muscles look especially good. “Yes, boss?” he said, making the others snicker like children.

“Please put some effort into this and don’t look sour. You know…” Sakusa looked annoyed again, perhaps because he didn’t get an obvious compliment so you rolled your eyes. “Don’t waste it.” you finished before walking straight off to go see the stylists about some comments you had, and both of you knew what you were talking about. Don’t waste your pretty face.

To some people’s surprise, Sakusa did very well! Not only did he look hot, but there was a charming smirk on his face as well that you only recognised from hearing it in his voice before. Sakusa knew you were watching and it was oddly motivating. Still, when Atsumu asked why he was being so cooperative, he crossed his arms and frowned, saying something about how much he wanted to get it over with.

You were looking at the photos sent to you from the client a couple of days later, smiling at how good all your guys looked. While you couldn’t send them the photos yet in fear that they didn’t understand what confidential meant, you sent them each a message saying they looked good and did a great job.

While throwing together all your stuff to go home for the day, you heard your phone buzz on the desk and picked it up only when you were ready to leave. You were humming something under your breath until you saw Sakusa’s message.

Sakusa: Is that from you or the bosses?

You smiled, cursing the way your ears felt warm.

From me:)

After that, you didn’t expect any answer from him, putting the phone in your pocket while travelling home. But as you were brushing your teeth, another message came in.

Sakusa: Bet you wrote that to all the guys.

You had to reread it 10 times, wondering if this was really Sakusa and in that case, what he meant by it. Nursing your lip between your teeth, you replied.

What if I did, does that bother you?

Sakusa: Don’t flatter yourself.

Sakusa blinked at the message he sent, cursing himself for sending something that sounded so… not nice. It did bother him, and the fact that it bothered him bothered him even more. He wished he was the only one you noticed despite this being your job. How embarrassing of him. He left his phone beside him on the bed, closing his eyes as he realised he probably wouldn’t be receiving any more messages for now.

So much for trying to flirt.

part 1 ║ part 2 ║ part 3 (final part) ║ headcanons ║ masterlist

/I feel like all his texts could be read in a flirty or teasing tone, but because they’re from Sakusa, it doesn’t work out. Also, I wrote a part 3 which will be the final part.

[kokoa-la]

Paper Clips Make Good Lock Picks- part two

Part 1

"Still going to ignore me?"

...

"Okay okay you got me. Let's get out of here first. We have an hour and a half before another teacher comes in and watches us for the last 15 minutes."

"What's your name?"

Oh, Danny forgot to introduce himself huh? 

"Danny."

"No last name?" 

"You haven't made it far on the friends list"

"Wow friends already? We just met"

"You're breaking out of detention with me. You picked a lock for me, that's called being friends."

"Do you make all your friends by committing crimes together?"

"Only the best ones"

Danny smiled before walking out and checking the hallway side to side. All clear. 

He waved Tim over and out of the classroom. 

"You know this whole hallway is under watch right? There's cameras here." 

"They don't work."

"What?" 

Danny laughed a little before signaling Tim to follow after him against the wall. 

"You didn't know? After school hours certain cameras shut down. In fact, a lot of them are broken and they never paid to get them repaired. That's why they accept bribes. They lie about having proof of crimes, works every time."

"What are you talking about?"

Danny groaned. Of course Tim didn't know about this, he was one of the rich kids they'd exploit. Danny as well as the other kids who were here off of scholarships or special deals knew about the tactic and had ways to avoid it, but rich kids like Tim didn't need to avoid it. The halfa cursed at the unfairness of life. 

"Of course you don't know. The teachers here scam the rich kids. They accuse them of crimes they didn't commit and because their parents never care for proof, only reputation, they bribe them right away without even asking for the evidence. It's happened so many times and it's why when actual problems happen it's swept up under the rug."

"Are you serious?"

"Uh yeah dude. Usually kids like me try their best to avoid it. Meaning don't fight back, don't stay after school, don't go to the bathroom for anything other than an emergency, and don't talk back to any teachers at all. Those are the basics when you're not as rich as everyone else."

"So that's why you're so adamant on being framed, but couldn't you just ask them for proof it was you?"

"Not that easy. I don't have a guardian, I'm a 'charity case' as they say it."

He practically spit out that last part. Utter disgust in his tone. 

"No parents, no money, no dice. If I don't find proof myself and publicize it or threaten em with it, I'm stuck for a year. I have things to do you know"

"Like blowing up chemistry labs?"

Tim teased. Danny gave him a look over his shoulder and rolled his eyes.

"Ha. Ha. Ha. You're so funny Tim! I wonder if Andys laughing in the hospital."

"He deserved it."

"And I'm innocent."

The two just stared at each other before Danny laughed and turned back around, continuing his walk. Tim chalked up the whole conversation as something to investigate later at home. His new "friend" was turning out to be a lot more interesting than he let on. 

"So this is you searching for clues? Have you gotten anything since you started"

"Well as I was saying earlier all the cameras in the hallway leading to the lab don't work at certain times, and the ones that were IN the lab are completely unsalvageable. And at the time of the explosion the usual delinquent students - Anderson included - were out of class."

"So they're the prime suspect, no chance of it being anyone else?" 

"Not many motives. If someone was using it for an outside project they didn't have permission, and other than that it's just the love of destroying and messing around."

Danny had led them through the school, taking twists and turns Tim couldn't recognize, eventually they had stopped at a roadblock. The hallway ended where a giant white tarp lay hanging from the ceiling. Caution tape was draped from each side to the other. 

"Where are we?" 

"The scene of the crime." 

Danny smiled before walking towards the plastic covering and picking it up from the ground and waving Tim over. Tim sighed before looking around and following after him, shaking his head on the way over. 

"Don't act all disappointed in me, you're literally following me"

"I may have just met you today but I'm convinced that it I left you alone you'd somehow either die or blow something up"

Oh how Tim didn't know the truth to that statement. Danny gasped and placed his hand over his chest all dramatically, taking false offense. 

"I'll have you know death cannot take me! It has tried and failed. Plus, we've been over this, I'm innocent!"

Tim didn't even want to unpack the first part of that. Logically it could be an exaggeration, but something about it felt a little too real to his senses. 

"Whatever, you felon."

"Delinquent."

"Fair, now let's get going" 

The roles had reversed as Tim took the lead instead. Danny let him despite having been here multiple times over the last few weeks. Maybe Tim would see something he couldn't. 

“So what are you hoping to find?”

“Proof of my innocence, or proof of their crimes.”

“Isn’t finding their crimes easier? Considering a lot of people already know about it.”

“Well yeah, but that’d turn back on me.”

“How so?”

God, Danny wanted to punch him. 

“Because they’d flip it on me and say how did I get the information? They’d accuse me of stealing and breaking and entering. They’d say that a delinquent child like me who hasn’t got good influences in my life would resort to just about anything to get out of punishment-”

“That’s a bit specific, don't cha think?”

“Well I’ve had similar things happen to me before”

Creepy boy with creepy powers rang in his head, he ignored it. 

“Anyways, how am I even going to get that stuff? The principal's office has all of that information and the cameras there are fully functioning and top quality. Plus, how am I supposed to get into their computer? I don’t know the password and I can’t hack shit for the life of me. Programming I can do, but that? Whole new haunt.” 

“Haunt- you know what? I’m not going to question that.”

“Good. We’re running out of time anyways. Choosing all the hallways that don’t have cameras or ones that work took a while. We need to wrap this up in 20 and then go back the way we came.”

Tim nodded and walked a bit faster towards what used to be the chem lab. There was more plastic screening in the way, but it was easily bypassed by the two. 

“There’s no one here.”

“They only do construction on this place during school hours two times a week.”

“Why? That’ll take forever.”

“Exactly.”

Tim’s questions were getting to Danny at this point. While the halfa acted all knowing in the beginning, it doesn’t change the fact that he’s actually clueless beyond what he discovered on his own. He doesn’t know why they’re prolonging the construction, it’s probably another scheme of theirs- or if they’re lucky, an extensive cover up. Danny, in all honesty, just wants to be able to go home to his little trash heap of a living space in Crime Alley and sleep. 

Tim moved forward, being way too careful. Danny knew he was oddly silent, but he could still hear the other, so he didn't question it. Superhuman hearing for the win! 

“Why is the construction flowing this way? The back of the room is close to being done, but the front is still in complete disarray. They shouldn’t be doing parts of the room, but the whole room in steps.”

Yeah, Danny couldn’t answer that one. At this point, he was just assuming that Tim had to verbalize his questions when answering them himself. He didn’t reply, and with the way the other didn’t ask again or even look at him, Danny was right. He was content to just let his detention mate do his thing, lord knows Tim’s smarter than Danny anyways.

Tim stepped forward cautiously. The ground was still slightly unsteady considering only like 15% of the room had the floors replaced. Now that Danny thought about it, that was weird. He may be clueless about anything other than ghosts and space, but even he knew that foundations were placed first. This is a dangerous and even unsafe way to do construction. Why repair one part of the room first and then bleed out? Was something hidden in that area? Plus, there was still debris from the explosion- 

“What do you think they’re hiding?”

“We’re about to find out.”

Wow, Tim was really invested now. Danny would have just gone back by now and visited tomorrow, but Tim is full on interested. 

All that was left to do was follow the rich kid further in the room. 

“Careful some of the paint is wet.”

Danny didn’t even want to ask how the other knew that from this distance. Danny could tell, but again, super human senses, Tim? Fully human. It didn’t really matter that much though, so he just followed him further and stepped around certain tiles. 

Tim started inspecting just about everything. Nothing was safe. Every piece of wood, every corner, every point in which two colors met- the guy even pulled out a leveler. Where did he get that? You know what? Didn’t matter. Danny was giving his best in minding his business. If it got him set free? He’d ask zero questions- consider his curiosity swallowed. 

“Tim, we have to go. We’re almost out of time.”

“Is it just me or is this cement not level, and doesn’t the drywall seem incorrect to you?”

Tim finally turned back to Danny, breaking out of his investigator mode. The halfa sighed before stepping over to where his new friend was, taking a closer look at what Tim was pointing out. He was right. The cement was uneven against the wall. It was strange considering Chemistry labs required tile flooring. The tiles wouldn’t go well if it wasn’t steady. Plus, the walls were supposed to be in levels: cement, then insulation, then final layer (could be anything really). The drywall set up wasn’t screwed in correctly, and Danny was pretty sure he could see the insulation in some parts. Considering special tiles or substances had to be used over the drywall to make the chemistry lab safe and usable, it wasn’t a good base. 

Okay, Danny will admit, maybe he did do a little bit of research into chemistry labs. It was a rabbit hole he couldn’t escape when listening to Mr.Lanch drag on and on about the 5 page essay due in a month. He was bored, sue him. He was used to being attacked by ghosts everyday, this place was tame. Sure, it was exhausting, but it was still interesting. 

“This isn’t right. The concrete has cracks in it.”

“So?”

“The school is supposed to use epoxy for the flooring, but for that to work the cement underneath it has to be perfect. This is far from that.”

“But they’re doing tiles, not resin.”

Tim gave Danny a look, and it honestly made him feel poor. Epoxy flooring was expensive- like really expensive- Danny has never seen it before that’s for sure. 

“Danny, the school has enough funding to make 20 of these labs with the highest grade. Tuition alone is insane amounts, even for the rich. The facilities the place offers should be of the highest quality. Even if the floors have to get replaced every few years, it states on the website that it’s supposed to be epoxy.”

Tim took what seemed to be a thousand photos of the area, getting every little detail. 

“Hmm, sounds like they’re cutting corners to cut costs. Leave it to the corrupt.”

“Alright, I got what we needed, let's head back.”

“Thank the Ancients. We’re gonna need to hurry, you know. We took too much time.”

Danny was quick to retrace the steps he took entering, ensuring no more tracks were left. Tim followed suit, and soon enough they were back into the maze of Hallways. This time with Tim leading the way. How the other knew it already when he’d only been through it once was beyond Danny, but again, he wasn’t gonna question it. 

Questioning others gave them a way to ask you questions in return, and Danny wasn’t too keen on answering anything personal.

.

.

.

“Made it!” 

Danny laughed as he slumped in the first seat, dead tired from the way they ran after seeing the clock. They were 10 minutes away when the clock showed they had 5 minutes until a check in. To say they ran would be an understatement. The way the two of them jumped down those stairs would surely raise many questions if Danny was keen to ask, but hey, maybe Tim was one of those ‘do every hobby known to mankind’ rich kids. 

Well his new friend was fit, at the least. Tim hadn’t even broken a sweat, only slightly breathing a little heavier. Danny wished. As a ghost he didn’t have such things as stamina, there was no out of breath when you don’t breathe. As a human, however, he was stuck with meager capabilities he gathered up from running away from bullies and fighting off ghosts with watchful eyes. Seriously, he needed to do whatever Tim was doing (just cheaper). 

Funnily enough, the second Tim sat down a seat away from him, Mr.Lanch entered the room. 

“I see you two have moved. I hope you didn’t cause any disturbances.”

He said while looking directly at Danny. Danny was sure to keep a tight smile on his face, hiding his clenched fist under the desk next to his thigh. 

“No way, sir. I just needed some help on that essay we have. You know I’m a little-”

“Behind, yes, I’m aware. Don’t distract Mr.Drake, he has well enough to do on his own. Am I clear?”

“Yes, yes. Sorry, won’t happen again.”

“Now apologize to Mr.Wayne for bothering him.”

“He wasn’t a bother.”

Tim interrupted, and Danny swore Tim looked annoyed. How come?

“Excuse me?”

“Danny wasn’t bothering me, Mr.Lanch, I was happy to help.”

There was an attitude in his tone, a bit of sharpness that Danny could pick up. He couldn’t for the life of him understand why.

“Yes, well, an esteemed individual such as yourself mustn't get too involved with the likes of him.”

Was this guy for real? Not even bothering to hide the blatant discrimination. Danny refrained from rolling his eyes, his fist clenching ever so tighter, making indents in his skin. 

“What may that mean, Mr.Lanch.”

“Mr.Drake, I’m sure you are well aware that people like… him are not the best influence on those such as yourself.”

Danny could feel the rage bubbling under Tim’s skin- being a sort of empath had its perks. 

“People like him? I am unaware as to what exactly you mean by that.”

Yeah, this was going to continue escalating. Danny cleared his throat, making both of them look over at him.

“I’m sorry Tim for bothering you earlier. It won’t happen again, don’t worry.”

“That’s better like it, now, I will return when time is up. Good day.”

And with that, Mr.Lanch left the room, making Danny sigh in relief. He sunk into his seat and rubbed his fingers over the crescents in his palm. 

“Why did you do that?”

“What?”

Tim gave him an annoyed look.

“Apologize.”

“It’s not that important, Tim. It’s easier on me if I just do what he asks. As long as I don’t get punished too badly it’s fine.”

“Didn’t we just return from trying to prove your innocence?”

“That was different from this. A year of detention and being banned from any labs for the rest of highschool is way too drastic to just take it. I have a thing called a job, Tim, I can’t be here when I could be working. Not all of us have people making food for them anytime they want.”

This was ridiculous. Seriously, Danny may care about justice and all that jazz, but he made a promise to- well- Jazz that he’d finish highschool and do it right. He couldn’t start problems when he already barely got in from this alone. Tim would be fine anywhere he went, Danny wouldn’t, and that’s just the truth. He couldn’t punch his way out of this one, and he accepted that the first month in. It really was Casper high part two, but instead of the treatment being because he was the weird kid, it was because he was the poor orphan. Not much better, now, was it.

Tim finally shut his mouth. Danny allowed himself to roll his eyes before putting his head down on the desk. 10 minutes until freedom. 

Day one was finally over. 

_______________________

Imma be real honest I actually hated part 2 which is why I never posted it, but i've been convinced bcs someone asked for the link to it so i avoided tumblr for a week because i thought itd be mean to show activity and ignore them- so i went back edited it and now theres a part 3 and im worried this will become a short story

anyways enjoy!

Koa out <3

[persevereforahappyending]

Maybe in Another Life |5|

Pairing: Clarisse La Rue x Hunter of Artemis!Reader

Summary: You are a Hunter of Artemis, but you start to question what you truly want when you meet Clarisse and get to know her.

Warnings: None?

Word Count: 3.4k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

ch. 1 | ch. 2 | ch. 3 | ch. 4 | ch. 5 | ch. 6 | ch. 7 | ch. 8 | ch. 9 | ch. 10 | ch. 11 | ch. 12 | ch. 13 | ch. 14 | ch. 15 | ch. 16 | ch. 17

You swung your stick, the loud whack as it came in contact with Clarisse’s echoed through the early morning. You seemed to be the only two awake at the early hour. You had been hanging out with Clarisse and Silena while being stuck at camp. Most of your time was spent with Clarisse, training, and sparring. Sparring with your sisters was fun and you enjoyed kicking their butts but training with the same people every day for hundreds of years made their moves predictable. You liked a challenge, needed the challenge, winning wasn’t satisfying when there wasn’t a challenge. Winning didn’t mean anything if it came easily or if you had won against the same people so often, which is why Clarisse was so exciting, she was new to spar with and though you were vastly better than her, she was still good, she had skills and had managed to surprise you a few times.

You would train with Clarisse until Silena found the two of you and dragged you both away, usually to get something to eat. You watched how everyone at camp reacted to Clarisse, everyone was afraid of her, the way they would cower when she so much as glared at them. At dinner the night before, a kid had been walking by and dropped his spoon, Clarisse glared at him, and he had taken off running, forgetting his fallen spoon and dropping the rest of his plate in the process. But with Silena, Clarisse was different, she was still sarcastic, but she laughed and joked around more, she seemed lighter around Silena.

You didn’t like the way they were with each other, so touchy and friendly. You weren’t sure why you were feeling that way, you had never felt that way in your entire existence but whenever you saw Silena giving her a hug or smiling at Clarisse you didn’t like the feeling in your stomach. You didn’t think they lied when they said they weren’t girlfriends but at first you thought they were just in denial or oblivious, that they were best friends but would eventually figure out they liked each other in a romantic way.

As you watched them the last few days you saw that wasn’t the case, they really were just best friends. Clarisse was sarcastic and slightly less of an asshole to Silena, but she would support and defend her and listen to her drone on and on about something Clarisse clearly wasn’t interested in. Silena was the same, she wasn’t afraid of Clarisse like everyone else, she treated her like another person and would just roll her eyes when Clarisse said something snarky, she never let it dampen her mood and she was one of the only ones to call Clarisse out on her shit. Seeing Silena make heart eyes at Beckendorf helped solidify that her and Clarisse weren’t into each other.

You still did training with the other Hunters, but most were either taking care of Phoebe or they were doing training on their own. There were still a few times a scuffle between a Hunter and another camper would break out, but you were quick to neutralize it. They all clearly missed Zoe and Artemis, they all shared the same worry, but none of them seemed to have the same feeling of dread. It was hard to be with your sisters without your mind going to the worst-case scenario and feeling like not everyone would be returning from the quest. Hanging out with Clarisse was a nice distraction, your mind was still filled with worry for your goddess, but it wasn’t all consuming when you were in Clarisse’s presence.

Despite your distracted mind you still managed to block Clarisse’s final attack. The two of you had sparred with a variety of weapons and decided to go back to basics and use sparring sticks for the day. It was actually fun, not going at it like crazy trying to one up each other and just spar. She did try to trick you a few times, but you just smirked and blocked her, but she managed to block all of your blows as well.

Clarisse stepped back and the two of you were left panting, a nice coat of sweat on each of you. You followed Clarisse to the bench where the two of you sat your stuff. Each of you grabbed your water, then Clarisse grabbed the sticks and put them back in the shed with all the other sparring equipment. By the time the two of you were walking down the hill from the sparring area the rest of camp was just beginning to wake up. The two of you passed sleepy campers making their way to breakfast, the both of you continued to walk the opposite direction. You each had a granola bar and were done sparring before Silena got to you so she couldn’t make the both of you sit down and have a ‘real breakfast’ as she liked to call it.

You followed Clarisse through the woods until you reached the creek. “This is my favorite spot,” she said quietly as she pulled herself up onto a rock and plopped herself down.

“It’s nice,” you said, looking around. It was a relatively secluded spot, far enough away from camp that you couldn’t hear any of the noise from the other campers but close enough that the two of you shouldn’t run into any danger.

“Though I bet this is your usual surroundings,” she gave you a knowing look.

You couldn’t help but nod. “This would be the ideal spot for Artemis, it’s pretty perfect. We don’t always stay somewhere nice, even if we have our tents.”

“I don’t think I could ever take the oath, being a Hunter doesn’t seem overly appealing honestly.” You looked at her, raising an eyebrow. “No offense,” she held up her hands. “But you guys seem to have it made, traveling all over, fighting monsters, that’s like the dream.”

“I mean it’s not all that glamorous,” you chuckled. “We’ve spent months tracking the same creature before, to the ends of the earth and back. I’m sure you have plenty of excitement here.”

“Yeah right,” Clarisse scoffed. “Besides my quest last year, the most exciting thing in my life has been going to an amusement park.”

You gave Clarisse a blank stare as you tilted your head. “What’s an amusement park?”

Clarisse broke out into laugh which only confused you more. Her laughter died down when she realized you weren’t laughing with her. “Wait, are you serious?” She asked through another chuckle. You could only nod. “You’ve been on this earth for like a thousand years. How do you not know?”

You shrugged. “I joined Artemis a thousand years ago. I’ve been with her ever since, we don’t usually spend time going to amusement parks,” you said the last words slowly as if it they were foreign words.

Clarisse blinked a few times as she processed the fact you truly didn’t know what she was talking about. “Don’t you guys ever like,” she waved her hand around to try gesturing, “interact with society?”

“We do,” you said defensively. “But Artemis doesn’t really like mortals, neither do the rest of the Hunters. If we need something in town, I’m usually sent to retrieve it. It’s always a quick trip.”

“So, you’ve never been on a rollercoaster?” You shook your head, scrunching your eyebrows once again at the new word. “You have to have seen one before.”

You could only shrug. Clarisse looked at you in disbelief before throwing her head back with a groan. When she was satisfied with her dramatics, she jumped right into explaining what a rollercoaster was, waving her hands in the air crazily as she tried to help explain it better when her words weren’t working. You were sure you only looked more and more confused as she continued explaining.

“Sounds like something Hephaestus would make,” you said after she was finally done.

“He probably has,” Clarisse said with a shrug. “You’ve really haven’t seen one?”

“I mean,” you bobbed your head back and forth as you tried to recall what she described. “Maybe? Definitely haven’t been on one or been to an amusement park.”

“Guess this means I have to take you to one some time.”

“Sounds like a plan.” You weren’t sure how that would ever work out, you didn’t get much free time and definitely not enough to go off and do something like that. When you and the Hunters weren’t tracking a monster, you were training or having a lazy day, no one really had time to go off and meet with someone else or do something on their own. You liked the sound of going to an amusement park with Clarisse though.

 The two do you talked until Silena came running up to get Clarisse. She was screaming Clarisse’s name until her eyes fell on the two of you. She froze, her mouth hanging open, you furrowed your brow not understanding what that look was for. You caught that look a few times from Silena like she was watching you and Clarisse, like she knew something the two of you didn’t but then she’d quickly hide it.

“Your brothers are fighting with the other campers,” Silena said, breathless.

“So?” Clarisse said, slightly annoyed. Clarisse tended to not get annoyed by Silena, but it was definitely clear she was not happy about being bothered.

“Clarisse,” Silena said sternly, crossing her arms and tilting her head.

Clarisse rolled her eyes and got up from her spot on the rock. She walked over to Silena before turning back to you. “You coming to the bonfire tonight?” She asked. She looked down at the rock, if you didn’t know any better you would say Clarisse was almost acting shy. You knew that wasn’t possible though, there was no reason for her to be shy about asking if you’d be at the bonfire.

“Of course,” you said, giving her a small smile.

You and Clarisse stared at each other for a moment, Silena’s eyes darting back and forth between the two of you until she finally pulled Clarisse away. You watched them leave, a small blush appearing on your cheeks, you weren’t sure what caused it. You quickly brushed yourself off before making your way back to the cabin.

You didn’t realize how long you and Clarisse had been talking. The two of you started training before the sun was even up and didn’t stop until the early risers were beginning to wake. Walking back to the cabin you noticed all the campers awake, running around and doing various activities. The sun was high in the air and based on the position it was just a little after noon. You and Clarisse had literally talked for hours and yet it felt like no time had passed. You couldn’t remember the last time you enjoyed talking to someone about anything and everything.

When you got back to the cabin you noticed all the Hunters up. Some of them were still lounging around the cabin but most seemed off around camp somewhere, most likely training. You gave Phoebe, who was resting in her bed, a nod. Phoebe was pretty much fully recovered but she still had no desire to hang around outside the cabin. She mentioned wanting revenge against the boys who gave her the shirt, but you reminded her Artemis ordered all of you to behave, despite really wanting to get revenge as well.

“Where were you?” Phoebe asked.

“Hanging out with Clarisse,” you answered as you flopped down on your own bed.

“You sure have been hanging out with her a lot.”

“She’s fun,” you smiled to yourself, giving Phoebe a little shrug. Phoebe just hummed causing you to sit up so you could look at her. “What?”

“You just,” Phoebe nodded her head back and forth as she tried to come up with the words she was looking for. “Don’t usually hangout with other demigods or anyone really.”

“We’ve been training together.” You gave her another shrug; you weren’t sure why you were getting so defensive over your friendship with Clarisse. “She’s a new challenge.”

“Okay,” she said, though she didn’t sound convinced. “I’m going to get food.” You watched her with scrunched up eyebrows as she walked out of the cabin.

You didn’t see Clarisse the rest of the day, but you also didn’t hear any news about any campers being maimed and Ares kids getting in trouble, so you assumed everything went well with Clarisse’s sibling. You spent part of the day in the cabin then the rest of it training with your sisters. With Artemis and Zoe not around, it was your job to make sure they stayed on top of things and to make sure all of you were ready to leave the second Artemis gave the word.

Before you knew it it was nighttime, and everyone was getting ready for the bonfire. You made your way to the bonfire with the rest of your sisters, laughing and joking around. The bonfire for the night was on the beach by the lake. As you stepped down onto the sand you instantly caught sight of Clarisse standing by the fire, talking to Silena. You sucked in a breath at the sight of her, watching how the fire cast a gorgeous glow around her. As if sensing your eyes on her she looked up, meeting your gaze. You both smiled at the same time and without another word to your sisters you made your way over to her.

“Hey,” you said. “Hi,” you looked to Silena.

“Hey,” Clarisse replied.

“Hello,” Silena said. You furrowed your brow, there was something in Silena’s tone and she tried to hide a smirk by quickly taking a sip of her drink.

“Everything work out with your brother?” you asked, nodding to her hand where you saw her knuckles already starting to bruise.

Clarisse rolled her eyes and nodded to a place across the bonfire. You followed her gaze and saw a son of Ares sporting a new blackeye. You couldn’t help but shake your head, silently chuckling. “He thought he didn’t have to listen to me,” Clarisse mumbled.

“It was actually kind of entertaining,” Silena added.

You sighed and followed the girls to a log near the bonfire. Clarisse sat in the middle, with you and Silena taking the spots next to her. You glanced around the bonfire, seeing it in full swing, campers grouped up laughing and joking or couples snuggled up together. You even saw a couple Hunters being cordial with some fellow campers.

“Did you know she’s never been to an amusement park?” Clarisse asked. When you turned to glare at her you saw her looking at Silena before turning to you, leaning back so you got a full view of Silena’s shocked expression.

“What!” Silena shouted, sloshing her drink onto the ground.

You just shrugged. “We don’t really go and do mortal things,” you said. “We don’t have much down time and when we do, we’re usually in the middle of the woods somewhere.”

“Not going to an amusement park is like never having seen a movie!” You titled your head and gave Silena a shrug. “What!” she shot to her feet causing you to lean back as other campers turned to look at the commotion. “How is that possible?”

“Like I just said-”

“You were literally around when movies were invented!” she held out her arms as if that would change the fact that you’ve never seen a movie.

You just shrugged. You turned to Clarisse for help, but she just shook her head. “Guess that’s something else we’ll have to do,” she said, smiling at you.

“Showing me my first movie,” you said, smirking. “The pressure is on.”

Silena let out a groan. “It’s going to be some boring action movie.”

Clarisse turned to her friend, offended. “Better than some lovey dovey rom com you’d choose,” she scoffed.

It was Silena’s turn to look offended. The two of them went back and forth arguing about rom coms and action movies and which was better. You couldn’t keep up and didn’t understand the majority of what they were saying. You thought they were screaming movie titles at one another, trying to prove their point, but you couldn’t be sure, some of the titles seemed weird. They continued to argue until Beckendorf came over, shyly asking Silena to hangout. You and Clarisse watched the two of them walk away, the backs of their hands lightly brushing against each other, both too nervous to make the move and hold the other’s hand.

You stayed next to Clarisse the rest of the night. Neither of you moved from your place on the log as you continuously engaged in conversation. Since learning you had never been to an amusement park or seen a movie, she was determining everything ‘normal’ as she liked to call it, that you missed out on and hadn’t experienced yet. She was making a list of everything she intended to show you and do with you. Every time a new revelation was made of something you hadn’t done, you pointed out something you had done that no one else had. She learned you hadn’t been to Disney World, even though you didn’t understand how that was different than an amusement park, you countered telling her about one of your hunts deep in a jungle where you came across an incredible waterfall.

She was mind blown you had never driven a car. She assumed, like Silena with movies, that you were around when the car was invented so you must have driven one. You pointed out that there has never been a reason for you to drive a car. You and the Hunters traveled with Artemis everywhere. If all of you needed to cross the country or go to a different country, you either walked or used non-mortal methods of transportation. You tried to argue that you had been on a boat, it wasn’t with other humans, but you had been on a boat. She said that didn’t count because when you were a kid boats and walking were the only means of transportation.

When there was a pause in your conversation you looked up, noticing most of the other campers and Hunters were gone. The fire was still going but it wasn’t as large as it had been during the beginning of the night, there was just enough left to light up your surroundings. The few campers that were left were either rubbing their eyes as they made their way back to their cabins or were falling asleep in the sand.

“Guess we got carried away,” you said. “Didn’t realize it was so late.”

“Yeah,” Clarisse whispered.

You turned to her, ready to suggest turning in but the words died in your throat when you caught sight of Clarisse. The dying fire illuminated the side of her face, creating a gorgeous golden glow. You noticed her eyes flick down, yours did the same motion, landing on her lips. You held your breath as the two of you began to lean in.

Your noses had just brushed when realization hit you, making you pull back just ever so slightly. Clarisse paused her movement when she noticed you pulled back. The two of you sat there, your noses barely touching. You closed your eyes, before letting your forehead touch hers.

“I can’t,” you whispered.

Before Clarisse could respond you abruptly got up. You didn’t look back as you rushed away, trying to put as much distance between you and her. You didn’t know if she understood, if she was hurt, all you knew was that she didn’t chase after you, and you were grateful for that. Your hands were shaking at the realization of what you just almost did. You couldn’t believe you had been so careless; you almost just threw away everything, your entire life.

Your conflicted and confused feelings were given so much clarity the second you walked away from her. You were attracted to Clarisse, you had been flirting with her, even if you hadn’t realized it, Phoebe had barely left the cabin and even she noticed it. You weren’t mad or hurt about Clarisse and Silena’s closeness when you thought they liked each other as more than friends, you were jealous. You were a Hunter of Artemis and for the first time in your thousand years of existence you had a crush.

Taglist: @cxcilla @touchmyfracturedomens @luclue @manu-007s-world

[autistichalsin]

Oh are the entitled little babies doing their "the game would have been literally perfect if Halsin hadn't been given the ~4 hours more of voice lines extra than he would have had if he was just a camp follower" tantrum again?

Must be Tuesday.

For the record, Halsin being given four hours extra of voice lines did not cause:

Wyll to have less content; if you think Wyll deserved more, you should be mad at Lae'zel, not him, as they're the ones who shared a writer (and it's clear his writer favors Lae'zel)

Minthara to have less content; if you think she deserved more, you should be mad at Karlach, not her, as they're the ones who shared a writer (In fact, quite the opposite of "stealing content" from poor baby Minthara, Halsin being added is part of the reason Minthara was added at all, because they would never have added a romanceable companion of one gender without also adding one of the other gender; if it wasn't for fan demand for Halsin, Minthara too would have stayed in act 1. Further, Minthara actually has three minutes more of voice lines than him)

Astarion to have nearly twice as many voice lines as Wyll

Wyll facing numerous bugs, including to his romantic greetings

Some characters, especially Karlach and Wyll, having unsatisfying story arcs

And before you say "but if they hadn't been busy adding Halsin's kisses they could have been free to fix Wyll's glitches sooner!" Those are different teams. Programmers are not artists are not writers. Once the kisses were drawn, it would have taken minutes to program them into the game, compared to the weeks-long endeavor identifying and fixing bugs is.

"But why couldn't Halsin's writer have written for Wyll and Minthara instead?! Halsin still ruined the game!" I hear you crying. One, that's not how the process for Larian to allocate writers for each character works, but even if it was, why are you complaining that Halsin was given a writer to share with another character and not that Astarion was given MULTIPLE writers? Astarion is literally the only character who actually could be accused of being shown favoritism by Larian.

Halsin's spellcasting lines were literally broken for over a year, and his point-and-click lines were broken for half a year, and there was a bug for nearly that long where traveling from act 2 to act 1 would cause him to die, and you still think that Halsin getting a handful of kiss animations, and those animations being used to tease patch 6 (with Halstarion and Shadowzel kisses both being used) is a sign of "favoritism"? Why then do you not say this about every character who was given new kiss animations?

And by the way, you really give the game away when you say "Larian should just go in the code and remove Halsin entirely". Because that would take months of story, animation, AND programming work- it would be an all-hands-on-deck effort. Even if we ignored that Larian is discontinuing story updates after patch 7, this would literally guarantee no companion ever gets another update again. Even if you amend it to "Halsin shouldn't be able to leave act 2" we are still talking about the same thing. If you say this, you make it blatantly obvious that you literally don't think too much work was put into Halsin, you just plain don't like his character and are using him as a scapegoat over things that actually did go wrong at Larian. You're cutting off your nose to spite your face, and your goal of your precious baby getting more content is secondary at best to hating Halsin.

And for the record, Minthara has three MORE minutes of voice lines than Halsin, so you can't even say she was in any way mistreated compared to Halsin. Further, if you look at who has received how many new lines in post-launch patches, Halsin is near the bottom and Minthara is near the top. There's more of a case for Larian showing favoritism to Minthara than there is for them showing favoritism to Halsin, seeing as Larian keeps adding dialogue for her good path recruitment, and backed out of adding the ultimatum to the game because Minthara fans whined that it was too mean to her. But I don't go around crying that Minthara being added to the game literally is the reason I can't kiss Halsin in act 2, because that would be insane.

The ONLY companion who has a case for being mistreated compared to others is Wyll compared to the OTHER ORIGINS, not to Halsin.