#but it’s nice to see evidence that he really does care about Henry

[liorlenn]

Remembering later into the first game when, if you see Radzig (who’s usually in the same room with Hanush) in Rattay, he’ll say something like “Oh, Henry’s come to see us!” I’ve always thought that was cute 😭. He’s so happy to see Henry doing well.

[addictedtostorytelling]

team graveyard gsr reveal reactions: lab rats, morgue workers, & ecklie

part iii of this series.

__

hodges obviously, the show gives us nothing from hodges with regards to the big reveal, so in the absence of any evidence, i’d like to think he maybe has a hard time with the news of gsr at first, not for any reasons having to do with the relationship itself but rather due to the way grissom and sara go about conducting it.

on the one hand, hodges so hero-worships grissom he probably wants to view grissom’s actions in concealing his and sara’s relationship as justified and even romantic™, but on the other hand, hodges is such a rules-hound he may in actuality have a hard time reconciling grissom’s deception with his perceptions of grissom as the ultimate good guy, and this discrepancy between what he might want to believe vs. what he cannot help but actually feel could lead to some really interesting moments of cognitive dissonance for him.

for example, i can imagine a lab rats scene in which maybe wendy and/or henry might question how someone in a management position like grissom could willingly compromise the integrity of the lab for such a long time, seemingly without thought for the work of his subordinates or even justice itself, while hodges tries to rationalize how grissom went about doing things in the best way he knew how to, though the more he talks, the more obvious it becomes he doesn’t fully believe what he’s saying, until finally he just kind of blows up about it and storms off, because, yeah, the truth is, he secretly feels let down by grissom, too.

that we don’t get to see any of those kinds of reaction from hodges in canon is just a doggone shame! the writers could have really done some interesting character work with him, had they wanted to.

in any case, i imagine after hodges’s initially conflicted reaction, he eventually realizes—perhaps with some prompting from wendy—for all his brilliance, grissom is also human and therefore fallible, but the fact he is doesn’t make him a bad guy. hodges likely comes to accept he did what he did for love.

—at which point i think his main reaction going forward is to pivot the way he thinks not just of grissom but also of sara.

as i talk about here,

of course, the real breakthrough in [hodges and sara’s] relationship seems to come during the events of episode 07x24 “living doll,” when hodges, like the rest of team graveyard, learns for the first time that sara is the love of grissom’s life and finds himself in a position to help save her from the miniature killer. while we don’t see hodges learn the truth about gsr on screen—he’s not in the layout room when grissom drops his famous “only person i've ever loved” bombshell on the rest of the team—one can imagine that the news does a lot to shift his perspective. by this point in his development, hodges not only seeks grissom’s approval because grissom is the boss but because he genuinely admires the man and views him as his mentor and friend. grissom is his hero, so if sara is grissom’s girl, then that makes sara important™ in hodges’s view. from here on out, sara comes to play a more central role in hodges’s internal narrative. certainly, hodges would have worked hard to save sara from the miniature killer regardless—because, as expressed above, for all of his posturing, the truth is that hodges does actually care about other people and is fond of the members of team graveyard (if secretly and in his own way)—but knowing that sara is grissom’s everything does add an extra dimension to the case for him, building on the mythology and imbuing the events with extra meaning from his pov. while hodges never speaks to this new sense that sara is now marked as special because she’s special to grissom, he is noticeably nice to her once she returns to work following her abduction (see, for example, their interactions in episode 08x04 “the case of the cross-dressing carp”).

of course, since hodges is hodges, once he knows the truth about grissom and sara’s relationship and has gotten past his feelings of resentment toward grissom for his conduct, i have to believe, even given the dearth of evidence in canon, he becomes somewhat insufferable about the whole thing, insinuating to his fellow lab rats he actually knew about gsr all along even though such is very much not the case, making obnoxious “we’re two of a kind, as romantic rulebreakers”-type comments to grissom (a la what he does in episode 06x21 “rashomama”), asking invasive questions probably mostly to sara about her and grissom’s sex life, etc. on a more serious note, he may also do some quiet reflection on his own relationship with wendy in light of grissom and sara’s conduct, wondering if perhaps, lab rules be damned, he should take a chance on having a relationship with her, as she, like sara is to grissom, may be his one shot at true happiness.

wendy and the other lab rats again, in the absence of any evidence, i think, for the most part, the other lab rats—wendy, henry, mandy, archie, and bobby—probably react to the news of grissom and sara being a couple with an admixture of shock (because who would have thought?) and minor disgruntlement at the rules infraction, on professional grounds.

in particular, wendy may feel a little miffed, because while she is herself no stranger to having feelings for a geeky, silver-fox coworker, she, unlike sara, has so far denied herself of them out of deference for departmental policy.

they are probably also just generally curious about the nature of grissom and sara’s relationship itself, because—as relative outsiders—they don’t really see the appeal from sara’s perspective, in particular. i can imagine, specifically, henry and mandy maybe speculating, in a lurid way, over lunch about what kind of “daddy kink” weirdness they assume must be going on. the lab rats probably all also collectively play the game of thinking back on any previous exchanges they may have witnessed between grissom and sara over the years which in retrospect might indicate their attraction to each other—with hodges pretending to have known all along, while everyone else rolls their eyes at him, because of course he was just as clueless as they. of course, since the lab rats tend to operate on a different frequency from the field mice, neither their displeasure regarding grissom and sara’s deceptive conduct nor their fascination with the sexual politics of their relationship likely makes its way back to grissom and sara or the rest of team graveyard at any point.

particularly since sara starts working a different shift upon returning to the lab—meaning they see her less than before, and especially less than before with grissom—their curiosity likely dies down soon enough anyhow, until it’s just back to work, as usual.

the morgue workers

i think doc is probably a little surprised, as he seems to be of the opinion grissom has little interest in romance overall (see episode 06x23 “bang-bang”). however, given doc is generally an openminded person, he probably doesn’t have objection to the relationship itself or even much care about the way grissom and sara have chosen to conduct it, as the goings on of the lab proper are outside of his purview. he also probably would never have guessed grissom would go for a woman so much younger than himself because he wouldn’t think of grissom as being “that way.” however, he likely also recognizes there are many parts of grissom he doesn’t know very well. meanwhile, i think straitlaced super dave is more astonished on the grounds grissom and sara would break the rules—he’s a supervisor! and she’s so serious about her work!—however unwilling to be judgmental of them, particularly as he understands wherein lies the attraction for grissom. though he, unlike greg, is long past his crush on sara by s8, he still gets why a guy might want to “wear a clean coat” for her (see episode 01x17 “face lift”), grissom included.

ecklie

ecklie is one of the few characters who does get to show a reaction to grissom and sara’s news on screen, and i think what we see from him in episode 08x02 “a la cart” is pretty much what we get. he’s obliged to insert himself into the situation as an administrator and dole out consequences—by switching sara to swing shift—though in his heart of hearts, he doesn’t want to (and wishes grissom and sara could have just been forthcoming about their relationship from the beginning instead). for the first little while after they come out, he likely is holding his breath, waiting to see if there will be any legal fallout due to their improper conduct. he is also probably swamped with extra work, having to review their old cases and make sure everything there is above board. because he’s ecklie, he almost certainly has also got some incorrect views of the whole thing, and not solely because grissom and sara themselves give him the runaround where the timeline for their relationship is concerned. for one thing, i think he erroneously believes the primary attraction for grissom with sara is her youth. were he in grissom’s place, for him, to be with a woman fifteen years younger than himself would definitely be an ego thing, so he wrongly assumes such is the case for grissom, too, supposing he also is the kind of guy who wants “arm candy.” he probably also incorrectly assumes a) grissom hired sara solely due to his attraction to her, and, b) grissom may have allowed sara to keep her job following the events of episode 05x13 “nesting dolls” because they were already by that time sleeping together. for another thing, he also probably wrongly assumes, on the sara side of things, she’s got grissom henpecked (see his comments to her about knowing where grissom is at all times during their interview scene), as well as that she is interested in grissom for his status. he undoubtedly fundamentally misunderstands the nature of their relationship not only due to his own misogyny and poor romantic instincts—remember, this man has been divorced three times—but also because he doesn’t have a good grasp on who grissom and sara are as people. he ultimately believes their reasons for keeping their relationship a secret are a lot tawdrier than in reality is the case. going forward, i believe he is maybe somewhat smug, because now he has proof “st. grissom” isn’t ethically unimpeachable. for all grissom’s talk about the sanctity of the profession (see episode 01x07 “blood drops”), at the end of the day, he—in ecklie’s view—seduced his much-younger subordinate and carried on a torrid office affair with her for however many years, putting the lab’s reputation in jeopardy for his own selfish reasons. his actions prove he’s human after all, and i think ecklie takes a little bit of personal satisfaction in that “tarnish” on grissom’s character. he also probably, like many others at the lab, carries with him some poorly-concealed fascination about grissom and sara’s relationship dynamics themselves, curious as to what their dynamic is like, as well as what the truth might be concerning the actual timeline for their relationship.

conclusion

suffice it to say, while the show largely glosses over the issue of how grissom and sara’s teammates react to their coming out, i think reactions to both them as a couple and the fact of their deception probably run the gamut from placid acceptance to bitter resentment to deep curiosity to tacit professional disapproval. though generally the earlier seasons of the show do a better job at characterization than the later ones do, this area is one where i think the early writers really dropped the ball, as they not only failed to tell us any stories about how the members of team graveyard react to this potentially earth-shattering news but also, even more bizarrely, tried to pretend there were never any stories to tell to begin with, making out like everyone on the team would respond in the exact same way and on the exact same timescale to both grissom and sara’s relationship and their years-long efforts to cover it up (i.e., by being neutrally accepting of the whole matter by the time grissom and sara returned to work in october). despite having foreshadowed some potential disgruntlement from various team members at the news, they never followed through. my guess is they maybe opted not to due to the looming wga writers’ strike—by october 2007, they may have already realized there was a good chance their season would end up truncated (which did eventually happen)—and jorja fox’s imminent departure from the show causing them to feel as if they “didn’t have the (narrative) runway” to explore any kind of complicated reactions from the team, for fear of not being able to then resolve them before sara was off the show/by season’s end. however, regardless of their reason for not “pulling the trigger” (to speak in term’s of chekhov’s gun), i still feel like opportunity was a missed one, as having such a uniform nonreaction from the team has the probably unintended result of making grissom and sara look silly for ever fearing there would perhaps be negative consequences to them coming out to begin with. if everyone was ultimately just going to be fine with their relationship and even the administration could have in theory accommodated them had they just been forthcoming up front, then why did they ever go through all the trouble of lying to everyone and going to such great lengths to conceal their relationship from their coworkers for over two years? shouldn’t they have had some sense this situation would just be a “slap on the wrist before a pat on the back” kind of deal? but i digress. as should be clear from all of my speculation in this post, i do think not everyone would react in the same way to the big gsr reveal, and i wish we could have seen some more exploration of their various reactions in canon. there was a lot of wasted narrative potential there, i think. anyway, thanks for the question! please feel welcome to send another any time.

[brooklynislandgirl]

❤️ You know I won't ever give up on the familial relationship between Tony and Beth. But feel free to throw any other kinds of ships over here.

Heart to Heart || Accepting Well OF COURSE Tony and Beth will forever be cousins. She might tease him a little, might be a little flirty in good fun, but she's vested in ensuring that he lives his best life, and is his ride-or-die. ~*~ I feel as though Henry and Beth can be a really great June/September kind of relationship, strongly based in respect, cross-culture understanding, and a rare quietude. They each have a lot to teach each other, and a lot of similarities. It could also be a deep abiding friendship, depending on what Henry would like. Beth prefers a quieter, simpler life and values nature, traditional values, and doesn't mind hard work; things that I feel might appeal to Henry. He also has a gentle sense of humour and a wide range of interests that he could pass on. She really wouldn't mind being a ~~stepmother~~ a good friend to Reb. She also doesn't mind Walt, and loves how loyal Henry is to his lifelong friend. ~*~ I can say the same about Spencer and Beth. They are both phenomenally intelligent, both experts in their fields, both have jobs that require more effort and time than anything else in their lives which makes seeing other people difficult at best. Neither of them are particularly socially adept when it comes to dating and the like. And I think Beth can nurture him, where as Spencer can keep up with her and keep her intellectually engrossed. They might also be of use to one another. Spencer might not find Beth's bi-polar disorder off-putting, and she would be more than glad to help him with his own trauma. ~*~ Eliot needs Beth in his life, in the same ways Tony does. And in others as well. Although I could also see there being an adversarial frenemy kind of tension between them {unresolved? passionate? who knows.} due to what Eliot does ~Beth tries very hard to be a pacifist~ and who Beth is. He isn't a fan of people who are that rich. Though to be fair, she's far more inclined to support materially/financially/spiritually the kind of work the Leverage group does, and could probably point clients toward them. Most of the Admiral's cronies certainly deserve what they get. And Beth would be UTTERLY grateful for any food Eliot might make her because Lord knows the child cannot cook and should never see the inside of a kitchen. ~*~ Sam Winchester. Hooo boy. Beth is everything that should give him nightmares; a 'blood' witch, though she would say that's oversimplifying, shape-shifter kin and nothing as 'nice' as a wolf, a medical professional, a woman of extraordinary means. She is, however, someone who could overlook an overbearing brother {she knows what that is like}, the angels and demons on his back, the constant travel, the constant hiding of the truth, and so on. She could provide him a stable home, a vast library of fiction, nonfiction, and grimoires, and a glimpse of life beyond the Hunt. {Shake a magick-8 ball and see where they land}. ~*~ Rebecca Standing Bear is about the same age as Beth. Some of their struggles are similar, some are so foreign that there's likely not ever going to be common ground. Then there's the clear fact that Beth and Henry keep getting closer. On the other hand, I can see Beth 'fund-raising' for legal defense, helping Reb gather evidence, working together to have a clinic for the tribe that has nothing to do with the shame and shambles that is Native health care. Beth would absolutely do everything in her power to protect Native women and children, while Riley would eventually seek work with Walt. Beth's best friend in the world, Jay Morgan, is also a lawyer, and I can see Beth interested in introducing the two women, and see what they could do as a trio of strong, independent super-folk.

[kaypeace21]

Will and the car on fire (theories)

*this is just under the assumption this is Will in the pic and not some other character. Which is still very possible .

Why it could be Will (it's for sure possibly not)

But, most of the rebuttals saying it's not Will are iffy. Cause we really don't have much evidence to point to any 1 character. Like the hair counterargument: that the hair is too long to be Will's .Will's s4 body double has a similar hair tuff on the back of his neck. And we know st uses camera shots of the back of Will's neck/silouette ,in past seasons . So doing so here could make sense. And Will of course is the most associated with fire: using fireball for Will the wise in s1 (3 times), the will the wise drawing from s2 had flames on his cloak, Will being being burned in s2,etc.

So...Will looking at lightning. And (Will?) looking at fire. Both have a dark full body sillhouete and red in the forefront .

We also see this character is possibly wearing a watch like Will?

And i've been hearing this a lot here ... but southern california (where the Byers are) does have a lot of trees lol. Not sure why people think otherwise.But, regardless a trip from cali to Hawkins would most certainly have some forrest.

*Also, any movies I’ll be mentioning (in the theories , below) were stated to be inspiration for ST.

So theories...

Theory 1) It's Joyce's car ( and it was rigged  to explode/look like an accident by Brenner or Lonnie). And Will wasn't there but sees it in a nightmare cause it's already happened/or it's a dream vision of the future.

Evidence:  CAR TROUBLES: Joyce’s car model was infamous for exploding in car accidents-being sued by the state of Indianna before the start of the series. We also have Alexi tell murray about a way to cause cars to explode-and turn people into dust (and make it look like an accident). Brenner’s name means “to burn” and he already hurt 1 mother to keep a subject -so not out of the realm of possibilities for him to hurt Joyce (and make it look like an accident to try and get Will and or el). 

In s3, we have Jonathan and Hopper try and fix  the car-and after this cars explode with people inside. Jonathan lifts the car hood- and notices someone rigged nancy’s car . Than,  right after,Billy’s car lights on fire with him inside. With Hopper (he also lifts the car hood) and joyce barely escapes the lit car (but she may not be so lucky next time).

 We also have Joyce tell Will 3x she’s going to be ok... which is a bit overkill if she will be OK ... 

And, notice during the hoodlift we see Will observing- which is similar to Alexi watching and warning them before hand that the car (with Joyce inside) will explode. So it’s possible foreshadowing since Will may predict the future and was was paralleled to Alexi.Alexi ‘can we watch lonnie toons now?. Will : can we play d&d now?

movie inspos: 

It’s hinted s4 will be around Will’s b day: In gilbert grape- Arnie after his b day, has his mom die, and a fire was stagged that lit his mom on fire. ( Before this,Arnie was also raised by his older brother Gilbert cause his dad wasn’t around). stoker-  kid’s parent dies in staged car ‘accident’ on her bday (this allows ab*sive relative closer to kid-since dead parent banned him from seeing kid). The kid  was taught how to hunt, by dad. And is also a painter and bullied at school (like Will). what dreams may come-painter blames themselves for fam dying in freak car accident- the relative was getting a present for them when it happened. so they blame themselves. The descent- also had (right before a b day, the main character’s fam dying in a car accident) .And the sole survivor/family member of the deceased hallucinates a shadow chasing her in a empty hospital hall. Get out-photographer (jonathan)blames himself for mother dying in car accident.

There’s also a lot of other films where the kid (for no logical reason) blames themselves for their mom’s/parent’s death: goodson, dream catcher, analyse this,etc. Of course ... this could simply relate to max and el having survivors guilt after the mall killed their family members (in a fake ‘mall fire’). However, a fake out fire causing  family to die (in s3)  could be foreshadowing for it actually happening in s4?

rigged car explosions: scarface -have guys try and bomb a car with kids and parent inside. backdraft -guy raised by older brother had 1 parent die in explosion and sees the freak explosion occur- later in the film someone rigs a car to explode and masks it as a  freak car accident. Same thing occurs in godfather- he sees family member die in rigged car explosion. The dark knight- rigs car to explode. batman v superman- calls superman a demon and says they need to burn the witch that bore him (aka his mom).

dreams (if in the past): Never ending story (reffed in s3)- starts with kid with bowl cut saying he had another dream about his mother who died. Peanut butter solution- kid has visions in dreams about people he knew who died in fire.  this next movie (emily rose) is  said to be Joyce byers inspo according to Winona - has (kid with 2 personalities) have nightmares from the past  of her and her mother burning in a car fire. while screaming/sleep walking she burns windows with her hands -accidentally using her powers. Some people suspect the videogame “life is strange’ is show inspo too- it has character named max caufield with a ‘never maxine rule’, etc. Anyways in the game prequel queer chloe, who plays d&d, would have dreams/nightmares of her nice parent’s car accident . Despite , chloe not being present for the car accident. After the parent’s death,  she’s stuck with her mean step dad.

dreams (if predicting the future): Will says in s3 Will the wise can see into the future. We also see Will/Will the wise via a dream predict Hopper was in danger-saying  to Joyce “he’s going to die”.  In ‘12 monkeys’ and ‘Rebel Robin st novel’ they mention the myth of cassandra- who could make accurate future prophecies , but was cursed to never be believed by those she warned. In 12 monkeys- he tries warning others of a dreaded event in future- and it’s dismissed as  him being mentally ill. Since, Will’s other abilities were dismissed as his ptsd in s2-and with the Byers fam having a family history of mental illness (they may not believe him over such a prediction). In ‘the ring’-the  movie opens with the guardian saying the boy is drawing the car accident that killed his mom -as a psychological coping mechanism. Only for the teacher to say he made that drawing before his mother’s death (and it’s revealed later the boy is psychic). Terminator 2- sarah conner says she is having future visions, which include explosions, and everyone dismisses it as her being schizophrenic. Like how in s2 a scientist said about Will “let’s see if this boy is a wizard or a schizo”.

If joyce survives the accident she may be hospitlized (and unable to have legal custody). In black swan the girl (with 2 personas) -blames herself for what happened to Winona Ryder’s character (who is in a coma after a car accident. They had had a verbal fight before the accident). In girl with the dragon tattoo- the main character (who is compared to a phoenix and dragon) has 1 parent burned in a fire- and after this her kind guardian is hospitilized so they can no longer take care of her- and she is placed with an ab*sive foster dad (who resembles her bio dad). If Joyce was in a coma - it would further parallel her to terry- and be another willel parallel.

 if dead: Tokyodrift- mom loses custody, and dad who is a mechanic and abandoned the family years ago, later gets custody. Super 8-mom dies in freak accident- douche dad gets custody. Book of henry-mom dies pre-film, ab*sive dad got custody. Outsiders- parents die in car wreck, relative gets custody of teen who he slaps etc.In black swan-girl who blames herself for Winona’s accident is stuck living with ab*sive parent. good son- mom dies, stuck with violent and manipulative relative after this.

Of course-joyce may be fine. And Lonnie may just visit for Will’s b-day and ruin shit that way.

Theory 2) It's an undercover government car that Will uses his powers against in self defense... or in anger after they hurt someone he loves.

Evidence:

Joyce about ‘Will the wise’: If he’s so wise, why does he need the fireballs? Why can’t he just outsmart the bad guys? Will: cause the bad guys are smart too. Joyce: so he needs the fireballs? Will: Yeah, to burn them to a crisp.

* the fact-this flashback happens at a funeral of a Byers, could also be narratively significant as foreshadowing.

Gov agents in s1 are  called “the bad-men” so Will may use fireball on “the bad-guys”(government agents) . Fire has been used on all the other adversaries relating to the upsidedown-so why not the gov agents (aka human villains) next? 2 movies on the inspo list caught my attention: firestarter & carrie (which are both stephen king adaptions with psychic kids who have fire abilities). 

Firestarter- she has pyrokineseis (firepowers) . And unlike every other psychic in the film- she is the only psychic that doesn't get nose bleeds (aka mini brain hemorages) from using her powers (Will). We know el and kali gets nose bleeds.  

(Anger): She only unleashes her fire abilities on gov agents after they kill her parent...

*And uses a literal “fireball” on them.

Could also be another willel parallel. kali about the US gov:" They took your mother away from you!" El str*ngles man from gov agency that incapacitated her mom . El before str*ngling him: " you hurt mama".

(self defense): While  in carrie  she kills people who tried to run her over with a car. And causes the car to explode.

Also, in s3 Steve does technically cause a car to explode to protect Nancy from being run over by a car (so maybe foreshadowing?). I believe, tumblr user ‘bran-who-writes-theoretically” was the first to point out the Carrie/car on fire parallel.

* This car scene could also be added to the list of Willel parallels. El  in s1 uses her powers to flip a government-car upside down. And looks back at it. And it’s a ref to the film Et. So Will causing a government -car to explode and flip upsidedown (referencing carrie) could be a parallel. 

Of course El flipped over a car in s3 to attack the Soviet agents and protect her friends too ( right before losing her powers). Sort of like Steve using his car as a weapon in s3 to protect his friends. so who knows, if not Will, maybe El (wearing a ponytail) got her telekenesis back and she flips the car and it explodes ? To be honest, I just find this explanation too boring, cliche, and predictable. And I still hypothosize the mindflayer took her telekensis (but not her other powers). Since in d&d mindflayers have ‘mage hand’ (what el is called) and ‘telekenesis’/ along with the ability to steal powers from other life forms. But, we’ll see...

Theory 3) The car flips (maybe caused by a deer jumping in the road) and it blows up after the crash- with Joyce inside. And maybe Jonathan survives it/ Will wasn’t there but had a nightmare /vision about it?

Evidence: in s1 Jonathan sees a dead deer that was hit by a car. This could be symbolic : because it related to Jonathan mentioning the hunting story with his dad and how he cried for a week cause he liked the film Bambi. Which in the film : Bambi (a deer) has his mother k*lled. And after his mother’s death, he’s taken in by his douchey dad who was M.I.A for most of his life ,until his mom passed away. And the hunters are the bad guys in the film . In ‘get out’ the photographer , Chris,blames himself for his mother dying in a car accident - and he sees a dead deer hit by a car -and the dying deer was used to symbolize the guilt he has over his mother’s  death. in ‘the long kiss goodnight’ a character is driving home with a friend- they swerve and hit a deer and 1 of them is ejected from the car into the forrest. But their friend is unconscious in the car and it quickly explodes on the road. The survivor turns and sees the car in flames- disoriented they stumble and kill the dying deer. And it’s left ambiguous if they were helping the deer end it’s pain or if it was vengeful-hunting (since it caused the car accident that killed their friend). Cause their face was emotionless from shock.

Even in the st novel "suspicious minds' rabbits- like jonathan was forced to kill on the hunting trip with his dad (around his b-day) represented the bond between mother and child.And the mother sacrificing herself for the baby-to not get k*lled (by Brenner).

-so maybe?? jonathan before he gets the pizza job/car (may have his car break down , like hinted it would in s3).

 So him and Joyce share the car (once his car stops working) and the accident happens while Jonathan is behind the wheel -with Joyce. And after this he gets the job at surfer boy pizza. Billy was a surfer boy and that memory was used to think about his mother who is no longer around (once he's stuck with his ab*sive dad after moving away from Cali). While Jonathan moved to Cali after his mom passed-maybe stuck with Lonnie.Jonathan's actor in recent pics has a blonde mullet - which sort of resembles joyce/Billy's og hair. This may be why he starts doing dr*gs - which is pretty out of character for him- but it could be a coping mechanism(like in the s4 films). One of many examples was 'enter the void'- the older brother was surrogate parent to their lil sibling and after a car accident k*lls his parents , he starts doing dr*gs to cope. Also ‘hunger games’ was on the list- and Katniss (who was a surrogate parent to her litle sibling, like Jonathan is to Will) in the sequel, saw her family die in an explosion. And it really broke her emotionally.

I've mentioned this before but Billy is used to parallel and foil Will and Jonathan. And it may be more than a ... what if Lonnie had custody scenario. But to show how Lonnie (like most ab*sers) will later bring out the worst in the kids (once he does have custody). Like how s3 has Will mimick lonnie with the baseball bat (and we see in s3 Billy being bullied by his dad to play baseball and flashbacks showing him mimicking Neil). I've also discussed how there's a theme with pretty much every character mimicking their parent- for better or worse.

Killing a deer would certainly hint at Jonathan's possible character regression (and mimicking Lonnie to a certain extent). if he not only blames himself for Joyce's death. But is also stuck with his ab*ser.

The animal k*lling motif , and after that, mimicking an a b*sive father is already shown with el. Brenner , in s1,tried to make her k*ll a cat (using her powers) and she refused (similar to the s1 rabbit hunting story of Lonnie forcing Jonathan to k*ll a rabbit ). But in s2, she uses her powers to k*ll a squirrel (and like a deer- it's typical hunting game). Than in s3 el does literally everything Brenner ever asked of her- she spies on people and repeats the words back (like brenner told her to do), she becomes a weapon to ‘fight the commies’ (which was said to be the reason he k*dnapped her in the first place), and when looking into the void to see the mf (she mirrors the words brenner told her - when he made her go into the void to face the demogorgan).

And some s4 movies are literally about being trapped in a house with your ab*ser and slowly losing your mind because of the ab*se and gaslighting- lighthouse , black swan , good son, are prime examples. But movies like scar face , girl with the dragon tattoo, and book of Henry touch on this theme a bit as well. And ordinary people- is about a guy who survived a vehicular accident but his relative in the same accident didn't- and it causes him alot of issues /survivor's guilt.

The shadowy figure could just be Will in the shot - seeing it in a dream before or after it happens?

Theory 4) Will sees a future vision or has his ’now memories’ of someone else's car.

Evidence: i guess the s4 shot parallels El (in s3) spying on Billy while he’s hurting Heather. During that spying scene: the shot is of El near Billy's car. So it’s possibly a diff willel parallel?

If not Will. Who knows ...if El’s telekenesis is gone maybe her spying abilities strengthened and look different because of it (and now she can see background details)?

Theory 5) it's Lonnie's car and Will escapes from the trunk and uses his powers in self defense

Evidence: I’m pretty iffy on this one. This goes back to how people suspected Lonnie took Will in s1 (and could be foreshadowing). Even the recent rebel robin book-has characters say Lonnie probably took Will. Jonathan suspected Will may be at Lonnie’s - so checks Lonnie’s car trunk (to see if Will is there). We also see how the mf in s3, knocked people out by dr*gs/str*ngulation, ties them up, and throws them in a trunk (to k*dnap them). Or how the cops raided jonathan’s trunk- which had stuff to track the demogorgan (and the demogorgan parallels Lonnie) . And after looking in Jonathan’s trunk-they suspected something fishy is going on.

*heather was described as “another me” by Will- who was thrown in the trunk.

movies: “tangled” was on the s4 list- and had an ab*sive parent later try and kidnap their kid ,and that parent ends up dying. in girl with the dragon tattoo (the girl associated with dragons & phoenixes-  lights her  ab*sive bio dad on fire. In ‘drop dead fred’ (girl who is in love with childhood friend, named Mikey, who she met at age 5) lights a imaginary version of her ab*sive parent on fire - while in a trippy memory world. Chrissy accidentally lights her ab*sive relative (nickname “daddy”)  on fire in self defense- in a trippy hell memory scape. in ‘long kiss goodnight- the girl with 2 personalities (Will/will the wise) was kidnapped and put in a trunk and escapes by jumping into a quarry. Not sure if that could relate to a flashback or something else? like in ‘don’t breath’ the older sibling who essentially was a surrogate parent to the younger sibling-mentions how their dad left the family, and her parent would throw her in the trunk for hours as a punishment.

[priscilla9993]

Rogers and Weaver Scenes

I can’t get enough of the tension and comradery these two have so here’s a summary of key moments. @martianbugsbunny I hope this helps you. :D

7x01 Rogers gets promoted to detective and meets Weaver as his partner

7x02 Before Sabine and Jacinda appear in Roni’s bar, Weaver is parked outside the precinct, upset at Rogers for showing up late (early really since his shift is not for another hour) and having an inflated ego. Rogers thinks he got promoted for his hard work but Weaver states that Rogers only became detective bc he chose him. Why? Well, we get riddles as Rogers gets thrown the keys and forced to drive as the new guy. 

In Belfrey Towers, when they are told to destroy Henry with blackmail, Rogers gets mad at Weaver in the elevator about legality and where loyalties lie. Another moment in Roni’s bar where Roni warns Rogers about Weaver’s partners never staying around long. Definitely in Henry’s apartment with the lightbulb that Rogers knows how to turn on bc he’s been there before. During Lucy’s ballet, where Rogers drops the swan keychain into Henry’s apron pocket and then later gets confronted by Weaver for almost throwing away the expensive blackmail bracelet into a gutter. However, in the process, Rogers has restores Weaver’s belief that the rookie detective has a moral code that can’t be sullied by greed or pressure. Absolutely stunning tension and resolution.

7x03 Rogers does some investigating of his own on Michael Griffiths, a guy working for Victoria, and gets caught by Weaver in the police station. Rogers fibs that he’s late for a court date over parking tickets. Weaver spies on him from the overpass and later, about 25 mins in, releases Griffiths in front of Rogers, explaining how some things aren’t black and white, requiring ‘finesse’. I love how Weaver covers up for Rogers’ mistakes, lawful and righteous as they may seem, and turns them into both a teaching moment and an upperhand on complicated things like cold cases and Victoria.

7x04 Nearly 9 mins in, Rogers and Weaver walk through the park as Weaver explains how Tilly, his informant, has managed to make Victoria fearful. Weaver goes looking for Tilly to use her as a pawn to gain leverage, while Rogers gets emotionally protective of her, realizing Weaver doesn’t care about anyone. Then, big key moment, Weaver wakes up in the hospital bed with Rogers by his side clutching a bullet that tore right through the lucky bastard, ‘must be bloody immortal’. Rumple/Weaver lies about who shot him and orders that Tilly can go free, gaining Rogers’s empathy of “Well, perhaps you do care about her” as Rumple pretends to be Weaver with an uncaring attitude and rude remark.

7x06 Cute back and forth in hospital as Weaver decides to leave the medical facility early, walking out and kicking the wheelchair, as Rogers clearly takes joy in seeing the older man be stubborn but not as threatening as before. This takes a sour turn as Weaver makes it clear he’s not nice as he warns Rogers about having errands to run later.

7x07 Rogers finds the dead body of a guy he interviewed and arrested a few days before. Weaver shows up to the crime scene and takes Rogers off the case for emotional attachment and obsession with a cold case, along with investigating without proper procedure or communication between partners. Rogers accuses him of being shady and working with Victoria Belfrey to cover up something in the Heights or regarding Eloise Gardener. Another big key moment: Rogers and Weaver dance the line across each other’s personal space in the evidence room as Rogers gets rightfully upset over Weaver’s lies and sneaky actions, using Tilly as a pawn and a fake painted journal page to trick him into believing the girl from his cold case is dead. Weaver states that ‘obsessions can be dangerous things’ and cryptically admits that he had good reason for being prickly, wanting to protect Rogers from his easily short tempered and stubbornly headstrong self, the person who can’t see that Eloise Gardener isn’t who he is truly looking for. 

7x08 Rogers solved the cold case and Eloise is now free, but Weaver warns him in the police station that he has no idea what he just blew wide open. 

7x09 Ten minutes in, Weaver escorts Victoria out of the police station jail under the notion of Rogers failing to obtain a warrant despite exigent circumstances. Rogers is sure that Weaver made the judge look the other way and that there’s something fishy going on. Weaver advises he keep his head down, not dig for clues, and heed past advice. The episode’s last bit is important and sticks clear in my head XD. Near the end of the episode, Rogers asks Weaver who or what he’s looking for, drawing of dagger in hand. Rogers isn’t going to take any bs and wants the truth since all Weaver has been doing is speaking in riddles or shutting him out. Rogers gives him the chance to be honest and Rumple does him a favor by backing out of his Weaver persona, explaining the best he can without sounding insane about how everything he’s done currently is an attempt to get back to his wife. While the two may be on rocky terms, this creates a solid foundation and understanding based on newfound trust, Rogers insisting to help and Weaver asking him to help find Lucy. (just gonna cry over here from these two finally being partners on equal ground)

7x10 Quite the blink it and miss it kind of scene. At the end of the episode, Rogers and Tilly find Weaver in a messy evidence room, torn ‘all upside down’, ready to tell him about the wagon wheel graffiti symbol found on the streets, behind the Troll. Weaver shows them a coin with the same symbol and Rogers knows the older detective probably has an explanation, but doesn’t want to hear it as he can tell it won’t make sense or be believable.

7x11 Twelve mins in, Weaver tries to tell Rogers the truth about Eloise Gardener, how she’s a cult leader who repeated the actions of what was done to her, leading to the kidnapping of a teenager named Anastasia. Rogers doesn’t want to believe he freed a bad or dangerous person so he leaves the precinct to prove her innocence. 24 minutes in, after Rogers visited Eloise in her apartment, he finds himself doubting Eloise’s innocence, ‘unable to find unassailable proof’. One thing’s for sure, Rogers has a nose for the truth and wants to know what Eloise is hiding, trusting Weaver’s next plan of action, the search for greenhouses. After finding Ivy holding a dead Victoria, Rogers gains an open mind on what is considered good or evil as Weaver says things are about to get darker in Hyperion Heights.

7x12 Sixteen minutes in, Rogers and Weaver are on the case of Andrea Sage’s murder and what connects to it. They meet gingerbread baker with the wagon wheel tattoo. Luckily, they come back to the bakery later and find the passed out baker in the kitchen with turned on gas stoves, saving her life. 

7x13 Unrelated but can someone please give Tilly a hug? Rogers is getting played like a fiddle by Eloise as she emotionally torments him in return for sharing relevant info. Weaver has to sit out and watch through cameras since she won’t speak with him near. They gain info on heart shaped chocolate boxes and talk to flower shop owner to no avail. At the end of the episode, Tilly caught in a compromising murder situation, the two detectives can tell she’s been framed and choose to protect her. Weaver explains what the other police could see as motive, sharing with Rogers her tragic history, and buys him time to go find Tilly and prove her innocence.

7x14 Seven minutes in, Rogers calls the current case ‘The Candy Killer Case’ as Weaver glues a porcelain teacup (iconic chipped cup) back together. Them wishing each other well on some time off or away from the case is so sweet. 

7x16 Rogers and Weaver scout the Belfrey Towers parking lot for the Candy Killer’s trail. The two dads discuss their parenting techniques as Tilly gets a proper job lol. As an analogy, Weaver supplies fish as Rogers teaches Tilly how to fish. Somehow they find the killer’s book of scribbled book margins and relation to story. How? It’s a magical macguffin. 

7x18 They find Hansel/Jack/Nick dead inside of the interrogation room. Separate character moments in this. Not much else to say.

7x20 Twelve mins in, Rogers gets back to the police station after running out from the underground theater. Weaver tries to gently tell and explain to him the truth, why his connection to Tilly and sense of purpose to do good stems from the past life he can’t remember. Then a bit of comedy as they recruit Margot to try and wake up Tilly from the spell casting ritual. Absolutely sweet as Rumple and Killian get to be like old rivals that have gone soft or grown with maturity. 

7x21 and 22 Killian is there for Rumple as he explains the hobbling of himself to avoid war, them saying why they’re friends as they pound against the glass in the magical snowglobe that is blizzarding over, and the heart exchange.

Overall, I’m amazed at how many scenes they had with each other as detective partners (as I had forgotten so many of these) and still happily torn up at how the built up trust led to less tension and more heartfelt scenes. 

[emospritelet]

Heatstroke - chapter 24/24

Last time, Gold confronted Zelena over trying to frame Regina, and Lacey caught the whole show on tape. This is the final chapter! Happy endings FTW!

[AO3]

x

Lacey set down the camera on the shop counter, and raised an eyebrow at Gold.

“So,” she said. “What do you want to do?”

He inclined his head, lifting a hand and letting it fall.

“It appears you have a story to tell about Miss West,” he remarked. “I feel the choice is very much yours. Perhaps Mr Glass can be persuaded that running an exposé is in the public interest.”

Lacey hesitated.

“Yeah, I think he would,” she acknowledged. “It’s just - Mayor Mills doesn’t know, does she? About Zelena.”

“I don’t think so.”

“I think maybe we should tell her,” said Lacey. “Before it all comes out, I mean. That would be the decent thing to do, wouldn’t it?”

“It would,” he agreed, and let out a heavy sigh, his head rolling back. “Well, that’s unfortunate.”

“What is?”

He raised his head again, sending her a stern look.

“It appears I’ve discovered a conscience,” he said. “The rumour was I didn’t have one. I blame you for this outrage.”

Lacey giggled, and leaned in to kiss him.

“Does that mean you’ll come with me to break the news?” she asked, and he offered his arm.

“To the Mayor’s office,” he said. “I’m sure Regina will be just delighted to see us.”

-

“This can’t be true.” Regina was staring at Lacey’s phone, having watched the recording twice. “This - this is impossible!”

“This must be a hell of a shock,” said Lacey, and Regina shook her head.

“I always thought she disliked me, but Mal told me I was being paranoid,” she said. “All this time she was plotting to ruin my life because my mother abandoned her? The nerve of the woman!”

“I guess sibling rivalry’s tough to deal with,” said Lacey. “Makes me glad I’m an only child.”

“Well, she certainly has my mother’s ambition and vindictiveness,” said Regina, with a sigh. “I don’t suppose you know anything about the father?”

“I’m afraid not,” said Gold. “Did your mother ever hint that you had a half-sister?”

Regina shook her head.

“She never spoke about her youth,” she said. “Other than to tell me she had to fight for anything she could get and I should do the same.”

She handed the phone back to Lacey and frowned at Gold.

“Exactly how long have you known about this?” she demanded, and he smiled.

“I heard what you did,” he said.

“That wasn’t what I asked,” she said coldly. “I know you, Gold. Were you holding onto this information until it was of use to you?”

“You think I’m working against you?” he asked, in a mild tone.

“I think you never do anything that doesn’t benefit you.”

“Well, perhaps you don’t know me as well as you think,” he said. “Or perhaps we assess risks and benefits differently. Either way, you have Miss French to thank for the investigation of her past and this recording. I merely - encouraged a confession.”

“Quite the sleuthing team,” said Regina, in a dry tone. “Can we expect a new office in town? French Gold, Private Investigators?”

“I don’t mind investigating his privates,” said Lacey, and Gold shot her a very level look as Regina curled her lip.

“Thanks, I’m going to spend the rest of the evening trying and failing to get that image out of my head.”

“You’re welcome,” said Lacey cheerfully.

“The question for you,” said Gold, “is how are you going to handle this? Miss French has quite a scoop on her hands, but she wanted to bring it to you first before raising it with Mr Glass.”

Regina shot Lacey a grateful look before sitting back in her chair with a sigh.

“There’s supposed to be a debate,” she said. “The two of us up on stage. You think it’s her intention to reveal the whole sordid story in front of the whole town?”

“I don’t believe she wants the rest of the town to know,” said Gold. “If they did, then her whole campaign reeks of sour grapes. She’ll want to play on the image she’s created while she’s been here. However inaccurate it is.”

Regina growled under her breath.

“I can’t believe I’m having to go through this charade!” she snapped. “I’m supposed to stand there and - and debate her when she’s trying to frame me for corruption and destroy my life!”

“We don’t have any actual evidence that she’s tried to frame you,” said Lacey, and Regina nodded impatiently.

“I know, I know. Nothing court worthy on that tape, however much she hinted at it,” she said. “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to hand it over to the Sheriff, get him to look into it.”

“If you agree to an exclusive interview with me after the debate, sure,” said Lacey quickly, and almost blushed as Gold shot her an approving look. Regina drummed her fingers on the desk.

“She’s far too good for you, Gold,” she said abruptly. “I hope you know that.”

He smirked at that, winking at Lacey.

“Oh, I’m well aware.”

-

Gold was finding it hard to stop grinning like an idiot now that he and Lacey were dating, and even found himself unexpectedly granting rent extensions, much to the surprise of nervous tenants. He made dinner for her again later in the week, and she stayed the night, Darcy curled at their feet as they drifted into sleep. It was pleasant being nuzzled awake by a purring cat and finding Lacey in his arms. It was a feeling he could get used to.

They had eventually managed to finish the interview, most of which was carried out in bed, and he had found himself telling her things he had previously had no intention of revealing. He blamed that on Lacey; it was difficult to maintain his usual cool distance when she was wearing his discarded shirt and looking at him as though he was a particularly delicious snack. She kept her word about giving him the final say on the article, however, and upon reading her draft, he noted that she had kept some of the more personal details to herself. He only felt the need to redact a couple of minor points about his early life, but was happy to let the remainder stand as it was. If the rest of Storybrooke was surprised at the intimacy of the piece and his sudden desire to be open about his life - well, they could all go and fuck themselves, as far as he was concerned.

The only opinions he cared about were those of his family, and it wasn’t too long before Neal called. Gold sighed as he looked at the number flashing on his phone. They’re gonna tease me relentlessly about this. Emma especially.

Shaking his head and smirking to himself, he picked up.

“Dad, hi,” said Neal. “Thought you might have called to let us know how your big social occasion went. You’re not avoiding the issue, right?”

“Of course not,” said Gold. “Been a busy week, that’s all.”

“Uh-huh. Emma thought you’d say that.” Neal sounded amused. “She’s been dying to find out about the dance, so I said I’d call for an update.”

“Tell her she needs a better hobby than worrying about my social life,” said Gold dryly. “How’s Henry? I was wondering what to get for his birthday.”

“Nice attempt at deflection, but I’m not done with you,” said Neal. “Come on, how did it go?”

“Uh - it was fine,” said Gold.

“Did you ask Lacey to dance, like I said?”

“Yes.” Gold hesitated. “We’re - uh - sort of dating now.”

Neal whooped, making him grin.

“Way to go! See, I knew you could do it!”

“Yes, well.” Gold scratched the back of his neck, feeling awkward. “It’s early days, I suppose. Very early days, but it’s going well.”

“I am so happy for you, really. Wait until I tell Emma.”

“She’s gonna tease me, isn’t she?” said Gold dryly.

“No more than usual.”

“A lot, then.”

“Hey, her teasing comes from a place of love.”

“Hmm.” Gold was amused. “Well, you can tell her I love her too.”

“And you can tell Lacey we can’t wait to meet her,” said Neal, and Gold’s grin widened.

“I believe the feeling’s mutual,” he said.

“Good. How about in two weeks’ time?”

Gold smirked to himself.

“Excellent timing,” he said. “It’s the Mayoral debate and election.”

“I’m almost certain we can find something better to do than listen to some crusty old politicians.”

“I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised,” said Gold. “It could be an interesting night.”

-

The evening of the debate arrived more quickly than Lacey thought possible, and she was nervous about more than just reporting the evening’s events. Gold’s son and daughter-in-law were due any minute, and there was a tiny part of her that kept whispering that they wouldn’t approve, that they would wonder why the hell Gold, with his money and power and class, was dating the likes of her. Stressing over her coverage of the election was a welcome distraction from the unwelcome internal monologue, and she concentrated on getting her things together for the debate, checking the recording equipment on Gold’s kitchen table and fretting about the sound quality.

“You’ve already checked it three times,” he said. “It’s fine.”

“I’m supposed to be writing the front page article!” she snapped. “What happens if I fuck up and don’t get anything recorded? I’m gonna look like a total idiot and Sidney won’t trust me with anything more complex than the hot dog eating contest!”

“I can record everything on my phone, if you’re worried,” he said. “Besides, don’t you do shorthand?”

“Yeah, but—”

“You’ll be fine,” he said gently, and kissed her head. “I promise.”

The doorbell rang, and Lacey started, heart thumping.

“Relax, that’ll be Neal and Emma,” said Gold, heading for the door. Lacey frowned at his back.

“Relax, my arse,” she muttered, shoving the recording equipment into its bag.

There were voices from the hall, and a sudden burst of laughter, and she closed her eyes, willing herself to calm the hell down. Footsteps from the doorway made her look up, and she was greeted by a warm smile and an outstretched hand. Gold’s son had his eyes, and curling dark hair above a ready grin.

“I’m Neal,” he said. “Really pleased to meet you.”

“Lacey,” she said, shaking his hand. “Uh - likewise.”

She was reminded vividly of the fact that she had flashed him on their first encounter, and felt a blush start to rise in her cheeks. If Neal was thinking of it too, he was better at hiding it than she was. His wife was a pretty blonde, with a kind look in her eyes and a plump baby in her arms, who was glancing around curiously at everything.

“This is Emma,” added Neal, “and that’s Henry.”

“We’ve heard a lot about you,” said Emma, shooting Gold a teasing look.

“Well, I won’t ask if it was all good, because I’m willing to bet it wasn’t,” said Lacey, and they chuckled.

“Maybe not at first,” admitted Emma. “Don’t hold it against the old bastard, though.”

“Oh, believe me, the feeling was mutual,” said Lacey.

“I’m standing right here,” said Gold evenly.

Lacey caught Emma’s eye and returned her grin. She felt herself relax a little, and leaned over to kiss Gold’s cheek.

“We got there in the end,” she said. “Uh - how hungry are you guys? I didn’t even think about dinner.”

She shot Gold a look, hoping that he would suggest something, and he nodded.

“We’ll head to Granny’s after the debate,” said Gold. “I have no doubt that Lacey will be demonstrating her excellent skill as a journalist, and I’d hate for you to miss it.”

“No pressure then,” said Lacey, and he smiled.

“You’re writing the article for the Mirror front page,” he said. “You have an exclusive with the Mayor herself after the debate. Sidney Glass clearly believes you to be as capable as I do.”

“Yeah, because I got that interview with you,” she said. “I didn’t tell him we were naked when I got most of that info.”

Neal closed his eyes with a pained expression.

“Shows ingenuity if you ask me,” said Emma abruptly. “I can usually get a ton of stuff out of Neal when we’re naked. Must run in the family.”

It was Gold’s turn to look pained. Neal put his hands over his face with a heavy sigh, and Lacey and Emma chuckled. Lacey decided that she liked both Emma and Neal very much. She zipped her bag and nodded to Gold.

“Okay,” she said. “Wish me luck.”

-

The town hall was filled with residents, chatting amongst themselves and casting curious glances at the empty stage. Ruby was seated next to Leroy on the third row back, and she winked at Lacey as she and Gold took their own seats. Ruby had been delighted to hear that the two of them had started seeing one another, and had only made a salacious comment to Gold on one occasion. Maybe two.

“Big turnout,” said Neal, glancing around. “I had no idea the people in this town were so into politics.”

“Usually they don’t bother,” said Gold. “The Mayor getting some competition appears to have piqued their interest.”

As though his voice had summoned her, Regina walked onto the stage, chin held high, looking calm and competent in a sharp black suit. Zelena followed, in a green dress with a soft silk scarf around her neck and gold hoops in her ears. A green folder was tucked under her arm, her hair tied up, and Lacey thought she was going for the image of a respectable school teacher. A gleam in her eye spoiled the look.

Dr Hopper was moderating the debate, and Lacey quickly checked her recording equipment and opened her laptop, rattling off a few sentences about the tense atmosphere of the hall and the opening statements from each of the candidates. Zelena gave a speech about decency and traditional values, at which Regina seemed to be stopping herself from rolling her eyes with some difficulty. Regina spoke of her record on town planning, law and order—she shot Zelena a look at that point—and prosperity.

“Thank you, ladies,” said Dr Hopper, when she was done. “Now, perhaps we’ll go to some questions from the press before we deal with those the townsfolk have submitted.”

“I have a question for Miss West,” said Lacey, in a loud, clear voice, shoving her laptop at Gold as she got to her feet.

Zelena’s mouth twisted, her smile more of a grimace.

“Of course,” she said lightly. “It’s - uh - I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten your name.”

She waved a languid hand, and Lacey felt her mouth flatten.

“Lacey French, Storybrooke Mirror,” she said evenly, and Zelena let out a tinkling laugh.

“Of course, silly me,” she trilled. “How could I forget Storybrooke’s eager young reporter? Lending the local newspaper such an air of class in that - lovely - outfit.”

There was a muttering amongst the townsfolk, and Lacey distinctly heard Ruby say ‘What a bitch!’, but she smiled sweetly as though she hadn’t understood the insult.

“Yeah, I have a question about your motivation for running for Mayor,” she said. “You said yourself you’ve never been involved in politics, so what inspired you to make this move now?”

Zelena smiled widely.

“Well, as I said, I thought about where I could do the most good,” she said. “Storybrooke is a wonderful town, with many excellent qualities, but talking to its residents has made me realise that there’s a feeling that it may be lacking direction. I sense a need for a return to the basics of community. Neighbourliness. Family values. The traditions of small-town America that we all grew up with.”

“But you grew up in England,” said Lacey. “Wasn’t your father a diplomat? How do you know this view of America is either accurate or desirable?”

Zelena’s nostrils flared as she continued to smile brightly.

“Well,” she said. “Who’s been doing her homework?”

“Yeah, it’s just that people hear politicians mention tradition and family values, and all too often it’s a smoke-screen to hide racism and homophobia,” went on Lacey. “How would you address those concerns?”

Zelena spread her hands.

“I’d say look at my record,” she said. “Since I moved here I’ve made it clear that I’m happy to work with people of all backgrounds. It’s important that no one feels left out, and my initial conversations have led me to believe that there are concerns, and that some residents feel that their interests are not - fully appreciated - by the Mayor.”

“What kind of interests?” asked Lacey quickly, before Zelena could turn away, and her mouth twisted again as she tried to keep smiling.

“As I said, some feel that traditional family values are being lost in the push for modernity,” she said. “I’d like to reassure them that I stand for everything that Storybrooke represents. Decency. Morality.”

“Does that mean you think the Mayor is immoral?” asked Lacey, and Zelena pulled a face.

“I think there have been some questionable decisions at city hall under her watch, yes,” she said. “Does anyone really think that a seedy bar called Queens of Darkness is fitting for this town?”

“It’s a jazz club,” said Regina. “And there’ll be dance lessons each week. A perfectly respectable establishment, run by three accomplished businesswomen.”

Zelena let out that insincere laugh again, and Lacey sat down, retrieving her laptop from Gold and opening it up as Zelena addressed the room.

“Well, it’s not only the company the Mayor keeps,” she said. “We’ve all heard the rumours. Missing money, accounts not holding quite as much as people thought…”

“That’s an outrageous lie,” said Regina coldly. “Where’s your evidence, Miss West?”

Zelena smirked, as though she had been waiting for that very question. She held up the green folder, showing it to the room.

“I have the evidence right here,” she announced. “A brave employee of city hall managed to smuggle this out to me. Evidence that the Mayor has been embezzling town funds!”

There was a shocked intake of breath around the room. Lacey typed furiously.

“How dare you!” snapped Regina. “That’s a lie and you know it!”

“I believe this is my allotted time to speak!” Zelena snapped back. “I think the people of Storybrooke deserve to know exactly who you really are, don’t you? They should understand the choice before them!”

The doors at the end of the hall opened, and there was the sound of heavy boots on the floor. Zelena looked surprised, and then somewhat nervous, and a low-level muttering started up in the audience. Lacey glanced over her shoulder, watching as Sheriff Graham Humbert walked towards the stage with his deputy Dorothy Gale by his side. Regina appeared to be drumming her fingers on the lectern, and Lacey couldn’t work out whether it was anxiety or impatience.

“Miss West,” said Graham. “We’d like you to come with us, please.”

“Why?” demanded Zelena. “I’m a little busy winning this election, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“It’s a matter of obstruction of justice,” said Graham. “If you could come to the station, please.”

Zelena opened and closed her mouth, a sudden flicker of fear in her eyes.

“What if I say no?”

“I’d prefer not to have to handcuff you,” said Graham.

“But we will if we have to,” added Dorothy, folding her arms.

“This is a conspiracy!” blurted Zelena, waving a finger at Regina. “Did the Mayor put you up to this? This is exactly the kind of corruption I’m talking about! The Sheriff being used as the Mayor’s enforcer!”

“Miss West…”

“Mayor Mills will do whatever it takes to silence me!” she went on. “She’s scared I’ve exposed her for what she is!”

“Miss West, I didn’t want to have to arrest you, but…”

“One hint of competition and she calls in her - her goon squad to crush it!”

“Oh, for God’s sake, I know you’re my sister!” said Regina loudly.

Silence fell, and Lacey hurriedly typed a few sentences, describing the shocked atmosphere of the town hall. Zelena was staring at Regina, eyes wide and nostrils flaring.

“I wasn’t going to mention it,” said Regina, curling her lip. “I wanted to give you a chance to be a decent person and deal with this in an honourable way. But since you’re determined to try to ruin my life for no good reason, then yes. I’m well aware we share the same mother, and frankly she’d be disappointed at this pathetic bid for attention.”

“How dare you—”

“I believe it’s my turn to speak,” interrupted Regina. “We’ve listened to enough of your rambling this evening. Since you’d been dropping hints about corruption in my office, I had Sheriff Humbert investigate. He told me earlier this evening that someone had been planting evidence to try to frame me. No doubt that’s what he wants to speak to you about.”

“This is—”

“The residents of Storybrooke know how seriously I take my duties as Mayor,” Regina went on, addressing the room as a whole now. “They know that I value their support and their trust. Of course I’d want any threat to that to be investigated. I’m just - I’m beyond disappointed that the threat comes from my half-sister.”

Her voice echoed around the silent room. Lacey was watching the townsfolk avidly, their eyes fixed on Regina as she spoke.

“I had no idea that my mother had had a daughter before me, no idea that I had another family member out there in the world,” she went on. “Her coming to Storybrooke should have been a time of joy and reunion. But instead of her reaching out to me, she tries to undermine me, to take away the most important job I have in this town.”

She looked down, shaking her head, and Gold leaned in close.

“I wonder how much of this is for the benefit of the voters and how much is genuine,” he murmured.

“Maybe fifty-fifty,” Lacey whispered back, and he nodded in agreement.

Regina raised her head, taking a deep breath, as though steeling herself for something unpleasant. Graham and Dorothy had edged towards the stage, Dorothy removing the cuffs from her belt.

“All I can do now,” said Regina, “is trust that justice will take its course.”

“You know nothing about justice!” shouted Zelena, as the Sheriff started reading her her rights. “You’ll pay for this! All of you!”

She was still yelling when Dorothy handcuffed her and marched her from the room. The sound of the doors closing was very loud in the silence that remained.

“Well,” said Regina, placing her hands on the lectern and looking around the room. “I think we can all agree that this was one of the more - eventful - political debates this town has seen.”

There was a ripple of nervous laughter, and she smiled.

“I truly hope that Miss West gets the help she so desperately needs,” she went on. “And when she has, I want her to know that she’s welcome to visit with Mallory and I. After all, we may not be able to choose our family, but that makes it all the more important to nurture the bonds we share with those around us.”

There were noises of agreement from the audience, and Gold leaned in close again.

“Ever the politician,” he murmured, and Lacey nodded.

“Storybrooke is like an extended family to me,” went on Regina, “and all families have their moments of conflict and frustration, but underneath that there is respect for one another, and a common set of values. I believe I have lived by those values for every year that I’ve served as your Mayor. I will always reach out to those in need and I will always act in the best interests of this town. Under my leadership, Storybrooke will continue to prosper. I guarantee it.”

There was applause, and a couple of cheers, and Regina nodded, looking extremely self-satisfied. She started taking questions, and Gold kissed Lacey’s cheek and whispered that he would see her in the diner when she was done. She watched him leave with his family, Emma balancing the baby on her hip and Neal pushing the stroller after them. Lacey turned back to listen to Regina field a question about the state of the town’s roads, bent her head to her laptop, and began typing up her article on the Mayoral debate.

She emailed the article over to Sidney before leaving for the diner, and walked back there with Ruby, who was chattering about the drama that had unfolded. Regina had been in her element when answering the remaining questions, and Lacey had felt a surge of satisfaction over her part in exposing a crime. Perhaps small town life offered the chance for rewarding work after all. She could see Gold and his family through the window, and his face lit up as she entered, making her stomach flip. Damn the man. I’m falling in love with him.

“Excellent job this evening,” he said, getting up to pull her chair out and kissing her cheek. “I got you a rum and coke, I hope that’s okay.”

“Perfect,” she said fervently, and took a slurp, relishing the taste on her tongue.

“How’d the Mayor look at the end of all that?” asked Emma, and Lacey pulled a face.

“The whole place gave her a round of applause, and she was looking about as satisfied as she could, I guess,” she said. “I still feel kind of sorry for her. Not every day you find out you have a half sister. Especially one that’s out to get you.”

“Well, it could have been a lot worse,” said Gold. “I very much doubt Miss West will present much of a challenge from a jail cell.”

Lacey nodded, taking another sip of her drink.

“Does this mean you and Regina are friends now?” she asked, and Gold smirked.

“Oh, I wouldn’t go that far,” he said. “What’s that term the kids use these days?”

“Frenemies?”

“That’s the one.”

“Kind of like we were,” she observed, and he laughed.

“Regina would fillet me with a letter opener if I even contemplated looking at her the way I look at you.”

“No, I don’t mean that,” she said. “I just meant - well, we kind of had that thing where we poked at each other to get a reaction, right?”

Gold looked as though he was trying very hard not to laugh, and she swatted his arm.

“Stop thinking about dirty stuff! You know what I mean!”

“I do,” he acknowledged. “And I, for one, am very glad that we - er - got the reaction we wanted.”

“You’re still thinking about dirty stuff, aren’t you?” said Emma shrewdly, and Gold shrugged.

“Maybe a little.”

-

They ate ribs, sticky with Granny’s special sauce, licking it from their fingers and washing it down with beer and wine and rum. By the time they got out into the cool night air, Lacey felt wonderfully tipsy, and regretted putting on her high heels earlier in the evening. At least there was no one else around to see if she fell on her arse, she supposed. Neal and Emma were walking ahead, pushing the stroller and talking quietly, and Lacey let out a sigh, slipping her arm through Gold’s for support, and resting her head on his shoulder.

“I ate too much,” she said, and Gold chuckled.

“We all ate too much.”

“You didn’t throw half of it over your lap, though.”

“No, I thought I’d leave that to you.”

“Stupid gravity,” muttered Lacey, and he laughed, squeezing her arm with his.

“Tired?” he asked.

“Yeah. Long day.”

“Maybe you should have an early night.”

She glanced up at him, and he was grinning at her, his eyes twinkling.

“How’s that gonna work?” she asked flatly. “Your family’s staying over. No way I’m letting you give me screaming orgasms while they’re in the room next door.”

“In that case I could sneak over to yours,” he suggested. “You could scream to your heart’s content.”

Lacey giggled, barging him affectionately with her shoulder.

“I think I love you, Mr Gold,” she said, and Gold stopped dead, turning to face her with a stunned look on his face.

“Really?”

Lacey turned to face him, taking his hand.

“Really,” she said. “I mean I’m kind of drunk, but that’s not why I’m saying it. I think I’ve sort of been in love with you for a while now. Is that okay?”

He was staring at her, wide-eyed, and a softness seemed to spill over his features, making his eyes gleam as he smiled.

“Well,” he said. “I think I love you, too, Miss French. Is that okay?”

“More than okay.”

He seemed to hesitate for a moment, then raised his chin.

“D’you want to move in?” he asked.

“Can I bring Darcy?”

“Of course.”

“Then you got a deal.”

He was grinning, and she found herself grinning back, her heart swelling with love for him.

“Let’s wait until after Neal and Emma go before I move in, though,” she said. “I think you said something about screaming orgasms?”

Gold’s grin turned wicked, and he bent his head to kiss her.

“I’ll be over later.”

She let his lips pull at hers, leaning in to feel the warmth of his body as his arms went around her, and let out a sigh of contentment. Yes. Life in a small town could be amazing.

[ruby-whistler]

Alright curious anon here. All this is /dsmp /rp from here on out unless otherwise specified and is refering to characters. If i make any mistakes or am misinformed please let me know! So by the cat was nothing compared to mushroom henry i was meaning more toward the fact that the cow was killed as a punishment for something not worth or ok for it to be killed for at all and the fact that it belonged to tommy, wheareas the cat was killed more to annoy dream and belonged to tommy. (1/?)

alright then another lengthy reply, here i come! /lh /dsmp /rp

Dream also did not seem to mourn the cat much, shrugging it off with a "just more motivation to break out".

it was killed to hurt dream, not to "annoy him". it doesn't matter who it belonged to, c!dream was attached to it and it died, which had an effect on him and also further proved his point about attachments being weakness and caring getting you hurt, and it's still very sad.

you say that it was not ok at all to kill mooshroom henry, but the cat's death wasn't ok either, so i really don't see your point.

again, i disagree it was "nothing compared to" either way. i never meant to compare them in the first place, i was simply talking about the cat and c!dream so i don't see why it is in any way necessary to drag c!tommy and other dead pets into this. /nm

also, it isn't true he didn't mourn it. he is a very reserved person who doesn't show his feelings much, that's true, but the cat death still changed the way he acted afterwards, as well as the attempts he made to prevent it. he didn't "shrug it off", he yelled about it because he was understandably upset.

You mentioned that propganda was used to make dream seem like a tyrant, could you specify a bjt? Cus im a little confused srry /gen. Because the most i can remember from the lmanburg era at least is him being called a b'tch or other similar insults. You also mentioned how trauma responses can be differet which is true! I agree! Do you have any ideas to what caused dream the trauma?

wilbur would continuously make him out to be some sort of oppressive, tyrannical force, in front of his troops - a prime example of this being the lyrics of the l'manberg anthem itself and the l'manberg declaration of independence.

actually! here's a nice thread about l'manberg's establishment complete with links, timestamps and evidence :]

i also said in my previous post what could've possibly caused it, but since the character intentionally hides his emotions from the public, it would be difficult to see how things really affected him - which is why the way his spiral went is the majority of the evidence that would imply it, however it does make sense within the story as well with what i mentioned last time.

I would like to note that for sapnap at least had reason to leave dream. Some examples off the top of my head are dream leading an angry fundy to sapnap's pets on purpose, resulting in some deaths, dream assisting tommy in burning down sapnap's effiel tower where he got engaged to karl, and dream giving tommy either mars or the other fish at the battle of the lake. Idk about george tho other then the whole mexican lmanburg/el rapids thing and decrowning him

c!sapnap was actually at fault for most of this, and it wasn't really ever betrayal on c!dream's part.

c!dream is a mediator and he wants to stop everyone's conflict - c!fundy was angry because of c!sapnap's actions, and hence it made more sense for c!dream to centre him on c!sapnap's animals instead of running around killing everyone's pets (at that time, all c!dream knew was c!sapnap did something really bad and c!fundy wanted beckerson / mars from him, which were also his and c!george's fish).

c!sapnap was an instigator, and in multiple conflicts during the time as well as before he'd align himself against c!dream. he isn't "loyal" per se, he causes chaos and the reason c!dream helped c!tommy was because, c!sapnap, again, killed his pet. the first l'manberg war and then the 16th are signs of the fact that c!dream and c!sapnap were willing to fight together in actual war, but these small conflicts where c!sapnap continuously picked fights weren't about personal loyalty, nor did they seem to affect their relationship at all.

c!george was never really hurt by c!dream either. the dethronement was him very obviously being a guilt-trippy drama queen, but, well, that's just the character. he had stolen the l'mantree while he was supposed to be the diplomatic figure of the greater smp, which is why c!dream was justified in - very politely, may i mention - taking the duties off of him (seeing as he was also trying to keep him safe and c!techno had already assassinated him once).

Im pretty sure i remember cc!sam stating that his character never canonically physically tortured dream during his subathon but take this with a grain of salt as i am looking for the clip currently. So to the best of my knowledge dream did not have a physical contact trigger during tommy's visit which! I rewatched the vod and dream actually was first to hit tommy and i can give you my full writing downs but 10/12 of the phy-

you never finished this point because you had to go do something, but i'll reply to what is here at the moment (i suggest writing these down before sending next time, or even writing them out wholly before sending a single one could help avoid stuff like this).

i am 95% sure that the reason cc!sam stated this was because people were suspicious he had already been doing what c!quackity was doing after - torture within the storyline itself is associated pretty much only with what c!quackity is doing, so that's what he meant, just to clear up confusion - the starvation or terrible conditions haven't been retconned, but it was direct torture (like c!quackity is doing) people were asking him about.

i never said c!dream had a physical contact trigger at all, i don't think he had that, though he probably will after the torture.

huh, ok, i'm gonna have to rewatch then, but i remember c!tommy punching c!dream a lot and him just telling him to stop and only punching back to get him to stop. trigger or not, getting hit isn't very pleasant, if you know what i mean.

You mentioned tommy stealing dream's armor unprovoked. Do you have the vod or a general idea of the time so i can find it? Like before lmanburg after another event so and so because if you do not have it i can find it but any help is appreciated.

i am pretty sure you can find the video on cc!tommy's channel! there are also recaps of the disc war on youtube :]

I wanna talk a little on why the Final Control Room was so messed up. For starters, with the way the room was designed. It was small, and had labeled, empty chests with each person's name on them as a mockery. The next reason is that its bascially a kill box.

It's fairly inescapble with the stairs being ones you have to jump up, slowing anyone who climbs them down. The final reason it is messed up is that it is shown to have caused every person who died in it trauma. With tommy there are several examples, the time he saw it with techno, the way he refuses to go near it, the exposure trauma, etc. Fundy also appears to have trauma, as when the Red Banquet executions began, it can be seen as him being afraid of dying last again.

It can Be thought as tubbo having trauma because he buries most of his issues and pretends to be ok. Moreover this event took at least one of each person's canon lives, making it the most canon lives lost EVER in a dream smp event. (This is not hate on any of the ccs btw i loved this scene and its one of my personal favorites). Plus the fact Eret's betrayal just literally happened, giving at least Tommy and Wilbur canonic trust issues.

i wouldn't call the chests mockery? it was a trap. people had traps on the smp before. it was a trap in the middle of war, supposed to end said war by killing them all at once rather than individually which would be a lot more bloody and difficult.

i agree c!tommy and other people might have post-war trauma, especially if they were young during the time, but i think that's because the final control room was "messed up", moreso because the war itself was. it all happened fairly instantly as well? i don't think c!fundy would be able to realize he was the last one standing within the two second before he wasn't.

it "can be thought" and it can be interpreted like that but besides c!tommy there isn't much evidence for them "all" being traumatized by the final control room. of course betrayal would spark trust issues, i understand that.

The probation was humiliating in my opinion because dream was Sending tommy anatgonizing messages through out the whole meeting, plus he had to write a review of his day every single day, which fundy mocked him for.

i mean, it was definitely a strike to his pride, but he was being extremely uncooperative so i don't really blame the other members of new l'manberg trying to teach him to listen for once? of course i know c!dream was riling him up, and that should definitely be considered. i don't think it would be as humiliating if c!tommy didn't make it, is what i'm saying.

for the tommy being toxic to fundy? At least for the examples you gave, to me personally they come acoross as either in a meta way being the cc's bantering or in canon being the characters having banter. If you can send the post with the clips so i can read the tone better that would be cool but if not i will try and find em.

no, these were all in canon. canon isn't only when c!tommy is being nice, it's also when he's being a jerk. /lh

the first one was him threatening c!fundy about kicking him out of l'manberg and undermining his self-worth, and the second one was him trying to get c!sapnap to vote for them via bullying c!fundy.

i found these from a transcript focusing on c!fundy's character, so i don't know exactly where the first one is from, but the second one i am pretty sure is from when the elections were starting with the whole cabinet battle deal and all of that.

there are other instances, and all of them are canon. his personality was never being nice or compassionate, so i'm not really surprised? he still cares about the people he cares about and is very brave, y'know. but this part of his personality is definitely a valid reason for people to dislike him.

I hope the exam went well :). Hope u have a great day! (Ps i think theres something called a submission box to send in pictures? Am not entirely sure sry)

it would've gone well but my work-speed is a tad too slow for the schooling system (considering i'm three years younger than my classmates,,, probably that's also a factor) so probably not despite the fact i knew everything and would've aced it if i only had more time. i did as well as i could so i'm not worried about it, but thanks!

i think you're thinking submissions. sadly, i tested it and it doesn't work on anons, so idk how you'd solve that, maybe make a burner account?

Curious anon here one point you may wanna include in the redemption essay is that c!tubbo or c!tommy do not necessarily have to forgive him. What's important is that he recognizes what he did was wrong (exile, beating tommy to death, manipulating them both, etc) and does his best to make amends. Hope this helps! Can't wait to see your essay

it's out, idk if you've seen it yet, and i think i included enough of that so hope it's all good! :)

the mcc update video is out if you are an mcc enjoyer. It's very neat, if you wanna check it out

yeah! i am a fellow mcc enjoyer, saw it already, thanks for telling me though, i'm really hype for today.

Allo curious anon here sorry if the lots of asks bother you. I was just curious if i could share an interesting post i saw today about c!dream :0 (not necessarily negative i think? More of a statement of an often-confused canon)

sure thing! i don't know what you mean by often-confused since, the entire fanbase is very confused always, and often selection bias plays into the perception from both sides, but sure :]

you also sent in a thing for the other anon who said they didn't know what c!dream did that bad; pretty sure they couldn't really be alerted since, not sure if they watch my blog that closely, but i'll summarize your points just in case and add some notes;

the repeated blowing up of l'manberg (in my mind that's largely a positive since i,, despise that country, but fair enough), revealed c!ranboo as a traitor (they seem to be friends so i also,, think that might've been planned between him and enderboo), sent ghostbur away (i don't think c!dream knew it was dangerous for him and wanted to actually hurt him, but idk), participated in fighting against c!sapnap when he killed people's pets (that's only negative against c!sapnap and didn't seem to hurt him much at all), and then the whole vault scene where he was allegedly planning to steal people's things (though saying he would & being stopped beforehand and doing it are two different things, frankly).

so i still agree with the other anon that a lot of the hurt he did "to the entire server" (he only negatively interacted with like,, a half of them) is exaggerated both by the characters and the fandom, but i guess that's a consequence of most people seeing him as a threat to everyone's happiness rather than a complex personality.

Also he was aware of the butcher army going to kill techno but only got involved because he saw an opportunity to get a favor. (As he knew in advance due to him telling techno to get a totem, watching from afar instead of interveing or manipulating tubbo out of it)

i don't understand this at all, i'm sorry. how do you know he only helped techno in order to get a favor? last i remember he was only doing it to protect and strengthen his alliance, and techno came up with the whole favor thing entirely on his own. you might've not watched techno's perspective or their prior interactions, idk, but this really is a misinterpretation in my eyes. /nm

sorry if that is overly dream negative i just wanted to let yall know cus you seemed unaware -curious anon

nah dw, i watch the smp and i watched all of these things happen so, wouldn't say unaware, but thanks.

[whump-town]

Will You Take Me Home?

Here is some heart-warming fluff to make up for what I did with the cancer fic. I would do it again so I’m not sorry but I do feel remorse for hurting you

Word Count:  5055

Retired Hotch’s Birthday

The normal temperature of the room outside his nest of throw-blankets and heating pad causes goosebumps to break out over his exposed arm. He groans, not even bothering to check the caller ID as he puts his phone to his ear and answers “Aaron Hotchner”. His voice has taken on the gravel of disuse, fogged by the painkiller-induced nap he’d accidentally fallen into. If he was following his doctor’s orders, that wouldn’t happen. His body would have acclimated to the drugs and the pain wouldn’t leave him so exhausted that he can hardly keep his eyes open when it dulls to throbs. Which, he’s not aware of just yet, but is the very nature of this call: his detrimental habits.

“Sleeping beauty,” the other person greets and he leans back against the pillows behind him, rolling his eyes. The phone rustles and Hotch shakes his head as he hears the faint scratching and rustling of keys at his door. “I knocked four times,” he’s informed. “I was starting to think--” the door comes free and Hotch doesn’t even look up. “I thought I was going to find you dead in here.” The call ends and from the other side of the couch, he hears, “which, by the way, would be a hell of a thing, you know? Dead on your own birthday.” He closes his eyes but feels the cushions get pushed down, the telltale sign she’s leaning over the back of the cushion overtop him. “Speaking of which,” she beams. “Happy Birthday, old man.”

He looks up at her, taking in the full effect of mischief he could only hear before. The expressive lines of her smile spread across her face and it’s a distinct moment when all he can think about is how truly awful things had been between them at the beginning. How mean he was, really, because it wasn’t her. It was his own inability to trust. Yet, here she is before noon on his sixtieth birthday leaning over his couch and no doubt about to start a pot of coffee that she’ll consume over three-fourths of.  Suppressing the smile tugging at his own lips, he raises a more important matter at hand. Far more pressing than why it is that she’s letting herself into his home. “How long until they come?”

Retired doesn’t mean born yesterday (whatever the opposite of that is, really). He’s not around the office anymore but given Garcia’s questioning last month of his favorite cake flavor, Dave’s inquiry into his schedule for this week, and Emily’s early arrival he knows exactly what they’re doing. To her credit, Emily pretends she doesn’t and she might be more convincing if he didn’t know every tell she’s had for the last two decades.

“Who?” she asks. “How long until who comes?” He just looks at her. A stand-off, really, to see who caves first. They’re assholes so this could go on forever and if she were looking for the thrill of watching him break and she would press on. She cracks but not because he’s better at this game, just because she’s excited. “You have an hour. I’ve been sent to get you ready so you’re not a crabby old bastard when they arrive.”

He groans, sinking back into the couch and pulling his blanket up over his head. Effectively locking her out. Well... not really. She just leans further over him, not caring when he grunts tries to burrow farther away. “Come on,” she shakes his shoulders. “Aren’t you the least bit excited? Penny made you those cookies you like and Derek is bringing Hank, who, I might add, is very excited to see Hops.” And she’s only buttering him up because-- “I’m not supposed to tell you this because it’s a huge surprise but Dave left this morning to go pick up Jack. He’ll--” she can’t even get it out. He peaks out, just the top of his head so he can narrow his eyes at her. To see if she’s just fucking with him, using his feelings against him but he sees only sincerity. She grins, she knows she’s won. “So up and at ‘em old-timer! You’ve got a gaggle of people to entertain!”

Old-timer? He’s four years older than she is. That’s not what he comments on. “Gaggle?” he repeats back to her, grunting as his knees protest his standing. “Really showing your age there,” he mumbles and steps out of the way of the pillow she throws at his head. “What?” he defends. “You said it, not me.” He shakes his head, heading back to his room and leaving her to entertain herself. Which she will and he can hear her rustling around the coffee machine. Nearly surprised that she doesn’t complain he still hasn’t set up the Keurig she got him for Christmas (which they are rapidly approaching him having owned now for a year).

Though he isn’t sure how to express it anymore, he’s excited to have them here. Even if he knows that it will get overwhelming, he can’t deny that the night will end far too soon and he’ll find himself missing them all over again. But that’s not what’s important. In an hour (less than that knowing Penelope and her strict party-throwing agendas) he’ll have them all right here. Reid with his never-ending knowledge, quizzing him on the book recommendations that Hotch has been slowly working his way through. With Derek and Savannah and Hank, the latter of which can’t pronounce Hotch and it makes his heart do a funny little thing when the toddler sees him and screams in pure delight “Hops!”

JJ will pour in with Henry and it’ll be like old times watching Henry and Jack slunk off together (and they all pretend like they don’t know they’re smoking pot in the backyard). Emily and Dave force him to mediate the same four fights that they always have and then they’ll stick around long after the others have gone home to talk about whatever comes to their minds.

And Penelope.

His house is about to be flooded with baked goods and meals in containers because despite being alive as long as he has, she denies the notion he can feed himself. She’ll organize them in specific ways and each will be labeled in her neat handwriting so he can tell what’s in each. Most of them will be vegetarian because she’s worried about his cholesterol (and the environment) and a few will be spicy and chicken will make its way into a few of the dishes. He’ll thank her and kiss her cheek and she’ll remind him like she always does, that all he has to do is ask. He won’t but he does appreciate how much she cares. As smothering as it can be.

He showers quickly, giddy in a strange way to get out and be properly ready when the others arrive. Not too quickly, the last thing he needs is to bust his ass while Emily is here. She is far too comfortable with herself and with him and he knows that she will come in here if she hears him. The other thing about that woman is that she might have a distaste for constantly being touched but she can put that aside to annoy him. Which has created this weird mind-game thing he knows he’s losing when he doesn’t even notice her encroaching on his personal space.

Everything is a battle with her.

He decides to save himself the trouble of being bullied and searches through his dresser for a pair of jeans. He owns maybe two pairs of jeans both purchased forever ago and just to help him fit in with the parents at Jack’s school during field trips and soccer games. He stuck out like a sore thumb when he was a kid and he knows he still does but he won’t be the reason Jack gets weird looks. Emily had raised an eyebrow at that (why he had even divulged this to her is beyond him) so evidently it didn’t really do the trick but Dave assures him he looks fine and Garcia thinks he looks like a DILF so… he’s fairly certain that’s good. He’s not really sure what that means but he’s learned it’s better not to ask her to clarify.

Emily is fixing the couch when he comes out, the apartment filled with the scent of the coffee she’s brewed while he was showering. “You’re going to burn the house down with this thing,” she tells him. She holds up his heated blanket as it offends her. “You need to go to the doctor, there has to be something they can do.”

What surprises him isn’t her apparent anger-- with Emily, it’s a diversion. Her anger is rarely that, it’s to distract, and right now he knows he’s to perceive her anger and not the way she fears for him. The way that she can’t say “I love you” like the others but can, instead, be outraged that his body has been working against him for so many years. She’s not angry at him for needing to be tucked up in that blanket all the time, she’s afraid of a vascular issue that might kill him or that he’ll leave untreated until they’re all being reunited at the closest general hospital. Waiting for a doctor to tell them that he waited too long or that his heart can’t handle another surgery or a million other things.

He takes the blanket from her, clumsily folding it over and tucking the cords into the folds. “I have gone to the doctor,” he assures her. Not for that specifically but he did bring it up. He leaves it at that for now and she understands that means maybe later. It’s not worth getting into and he doesn’t feel like thinking about George Foyet and his knife today.

“Hey,” Emily hums, smirking at him. “Your ass looks really nice in those jeans.”

He stops dead in his tracks, frowning as he looks back at her but just as he’s about to inquire what, no doubt, awful thing she’s done to make her feel the need to compliment him to compensate for it, the apartment door opens. They both turn to the noise and Garcia steps in and freezes when she notices the two of them standing there.

Looking at the bags full of things she has in her arms and then to Emily and then to Hotch she sheepishly smiles. “Happy Birthday?”

With a sigh, having accepted this defeat a while ago, Hotch steps to help her with bags. He tries to hide his amusement but he cuts Emily a glance, three bags in his left hand and more still coming, and he can’t help it. Garcia turns back just as the smile eats its way up his face and he shakes his head. For a split second, he can see her apprehension, the way that her fear of going overboard or embarrassing herself washes over her before she carefully masks it (and to think he gets all the shit about masking). “Thank you,” he whispers so sincerely that he has to avert his eyes. Adding softly, “you know, you’re the only person who ever cares to make me celebrate it?”

Which just makes her sad. “Sir,” she whispers frowning. “You deserve the world, do you know that?”

He blushes, shaking his head, but he can’t get the words out in his shock.

“Oh,” she tsks. She stands on her toes and pulls him down so she can wrap her arms around him. “I love you.”

Emily makes a sound of disgust behind them and he’s glad for the distraction before all this undue attention gives him a heart attack. “Bleh,” Emily rolls her eyes. But she brightens when she sees the red Tupperware container holding the cookies. “Are those the--”

Garcia sees Emily zero in on them and hands them right to Hotch, holding them to his chest. “Are not for you,” she says to Emily with a nod of her head.

So Emily just looks to Hotch and he passes them to her with a shrug and weakly defends, “they’ll go stale if she doesn’t eat half of them.” They’re his birthday cookies but she’ll get her hands on them anyway. If not today then the next time she lets herself in. If not her then Reid when he gets bored and wanders over here for entertainment. If not Reid then Dave then Derek… you get the point. He’ll never finish them on his own.

Garcia lets it go because she knows that’s how he is and because she has a crapload of other things to make sure he eats. He leaves her to mess with his fridge, it’s better to let her do her thing. She’ll move his almond milk to the side door because that’s its proper place (even though he’ll move it right back) and come in about five to ten minutes to fuss with him about a specific something she notices he’s lacking. Today it will be the complete lack of breakfast foods in this house when she knows for a fact that his doctors are giving him hell about eating more than once a day.

He’ll have no excuse, never does, but she won’t give him a chance to provide it either way.

Reid arrives next and actually knocks and waits for someone to let him in, something none of the others will do. He sheepishly offers Hotch the books he’s artfully wrapped in a newspaper and Hotch ignores it for a moment to hug him. If they don’t do it now Reid will just wait in anxious anticipation for it because he knows it’s what people do and he likes being hugged by Hotch but he doesn’t know how to initiate it himself.

“The Sultan of Brunei spent $27.2 million on his 50th birthday,” Reid tells him as soon as Hotch lets him go. “Michael Jackson was there,” he says with a nod. And Hotch smiles and listens to him anxiously work his way around the point that he’s trying to make. Which is that by the standards of the Sultan of Brunei, this party will be exceptionally small and quiet… the way Hotch would want it to be.

They are still standing at the door, talking about what the act of giving a card means. The way that the stories get warped and it thrills Reid to slide the pieces of that puzzle together through-out various cultural ideals until you have them. And that America has a very strange, above-average affinity for birthday cards.

Derek nearly hits Reid with the door when he comes in. Too distracted with a squirming Hank on his hip and Savannah behind him fussing with him for not knocking. He brightens the second he places his eyes on the two of them, a face that Hank matches perfectly upon seeing his favorite people.

“Weed!” the toddler greets throwing himself into his godfather’s arms. Reid takes him happily, laughing at how tightly Hank holds onto him. He just loves that Hank never gets tired of him. He could still see Hank every day for a month and Hank would still greet him with the same enthusiasm as the first day.

Derek is kicking his shoes off, offering Savannah his hand so she can do the same when he notices Hank still excitedly talking to Reid. That’s by all means not abnormal but-- “Hey,” Derek mumbles Hank. He nods his head to Hotch who is standing watching Reid and Hank with a bright, wide smile. “Don’t you have something for Hops?”

Reid puts Hank down before the toddler can start to squirm and Hank immediately glues himself to Hotch’s leg. No one knows why it’s just what Hank likes to do but not just, in general, he only does it to Hotch. He stands for a few seconds, both arms wrapped around one of Hotch’s legs, face pressed into the material of his jeans, and Hotch stands still to allow him to do it. Hops is a nickname he has no control over, the same way that Reid doesn’t fight that he’s been “Weed” now since Jack was two and stumbling over his name.

Hotch got off easy. When Henry was younger he just sort of kept his distance from Hotch. Hank… just really loves him.

“Is that a hot wheel?” Hotch asks softly when Hank finally peels himself away enough to offer the bright toy clutched in his hands. Hank beams up at him and stretches to hold it higher, trying to get Hotch to take it. “Oh wow,” Hotch gasps, shaking his head and pretending to just be so impressed by this toy so severely dwarfed in his hand. “Do you know what colors these are?”

Derek holds his hand out for Savannah to take and guides her through the house. Moving them to the kitchen to talk with Garcia and Emily knowing that he won’t be getting his son back this afternoon. Both because Hank won’t want to leave Hotch or Reid’s side and because Hotch and Reid won’t want him to leave. The Hotwheels was entirely Hank, they spent twenty minutes finding the perfect one when all Derek needed from the store was stain. Though they all agreed to no presents because Hotch would already hate them invading his home with cake, they all got him presents.

The others all got him books because that’s what they know he likes and he really does love to receive books. They’re fun entertainment and they all say something about how not only they perceive him but also the sorts of things that they like and he… well, he loves that.

Derek built him a new bookshelf. It’s sitting in the back of the truck and he’s waiting on Will to get here to drag the thing in here. Derek had noticed two weekends ago that one of the shelves Hotch uses in the hall was bowing under the weight of the books on it so he’d made something to replace it. Thin but heavy-duty-- he’d considered all the ins and outs of the current shelf. Things he didn’t like about it until he has a higher shelf that doesn’t stick out so obscenely.

Which doesn’t matter, really, Hotch will love it either way.

Hank keeps “Hops” distracted while the others pull dinner together. Emily is set to ice the cake but she’s awful and she’s sent to sit in the living room with the other three. Hotch is sitting in the recliner, Hank sitting on his knees and telling him about what he did in preschool this week while Reid pokes through the bookshelf Hotch keeps by the door.

JJ knocks as she comes in but still lets herself in. Henry is bummed to see Jack isn’t here yet but he’s quickly distracted and swept right back out the door to help his father and Derek move the bookshelf into the house. They don’t really need Henry’s help but it’s an effective way to ensure Hotch doesn’t try to help. Not because he can’t but because… he’s old and they don’t want to break him.

They’re just buying time, anyway, until Jack and Dave get here.

With them comes the party…

Hotch only puts Hank down to hug Jack, biting down his tears when he realizes that his son now stands just as tall as he is. Probably bound to be taller. He’s grown out his blonde hair in college and just as Hotch is opening his mouth to ask about school, how seeking out that Master’s Degree is treating him, he spots--

“A puppy!” Hank shouts.

Jack smiles timidly, stepping back to show his father the dog still held back by Dave’s hold on her collar. “Her name is Scout!” Jack kneels down, beaming up at his father while the thrilled puppy licks his face. “Do you get it?”

Oh, he gets it alright. Emily had snitched him out two weeks ago (to his own son, of all people) and admitted she was a little worried. He still doesn’t think there was ground for her fears. It’s not abnormal for him to shut himself out and if his therapist doesn’t think he’s any crazier than normal then that should mean he’s fine. At least, that’s how Hotch feels about it. That’s ignoring the way that everyone else feels. Which is that he’s visibly more on the edge and jumpy. That he gets irritated in public spaces and his anxiety is getting worse despite starting therapy and medicine he swears is helping.

Jack had done his best to get through to his father but sometimes Hotch makes those conversations like talking to a brick wall. That conversation had ended rather badly, honestly. Jack had yelled, shouting mindlessly that he’s twenty-five and he’s too young to have to be taking care of Hotch like this. Too young to have to fear that each day he’ll receive that phone call and the crazy thing is that Jack wouldn’t even be surprised-- everything about Hotch’s life is damning proof to the fact that he acts impulsively, reckless, and without care to his own well-being.

Jack had called later and he’d apologized, they both had. It had been careless on Jack’s behalf, Jessica had explained to him at sixteen some delicate things about his father. He’d come to understand just what it means for everyone around Hotch to love him. The way that his mother had tried to stifle that urge in his father and Jessica and Dave and Emily and Derek and everyone who has ever loved a man like Aaron Hotchner has tried to walk him back off that ledge. But it’s as if he was born there and you can move him but you can’t take that fundamental calling away. Can’t wash his darkness away.

Jack had spent his entire childhood likening the characters around him to his father, just pulling at strings to understand the man. Sometimes he’d earn himself a smile and other times a grunt. He’d bring his father the books or replay scenes in movies all to just see his reactions to know if the man he sees his father as is the same one Hotch sees himself as.

Freshman year of high school they’d read To Kill A Mockingbird and he’d thought his father to be a man like Atticus Finch. In many ways, he is but he keeps coming back to that book. Until during that heavily apologetic phone call, Jack had laughed and realized his father might be a bit like Atticus Finch but he’s a Boo Radley. The recluse that always represents unwavering good.

Hence Scout.

What had driven Boo Radley from his home? Little Scout Finch.

He lets them into the house, not really sure what to say. “You know,” Hotch mumbles, shaking his head. He watches the puppy eagerly work her way around the others. Snaking between legs and nearly knocking Hank over in her excitement but the boy is around enough dogs to only laugh harder. “You could have just got me a… gym membership of something.”

Derek huffs at that and now, he’s sitting in his living room watching his closest friends snickering at his son’s clever book reference. With a sigh, he leans down and offers his hand to the puppy, frowning when her first instinct is to lick him. “Hi, Scout.”

Jack squats down, petting Scout while she continues basking in Hotch’s attention. “You don’t go to the gym, dad.” Jack rubs behind her ears, smiling when Scout doesn’t divert her attention from Hotch. She’s zeroed in on him and he’s fairly content with that. “Besides I got Scout from that program that they run in Richmond.” There’s this dog training thing they do down there that his friend actually works at. Scout failed her training-- as it turns out she’s a bit of a reject. They’d tried to start her out as a service dog but she’d been too smart for that too. Too eager.

Hotch raises an eyebrow at that, not liking the sound of what he thinks is happening. Those dogs are expensive and it’s already enough that she’s a German Shephard. “What do you mean?”

Jack glances at Dave, “well…”

Dave steps up and soothes it out. “I made some calls and Jack’s friend helped us out. Scout is a reject from two academies, a failed service dog and from the police dog academy in Richmond. So she’s too smart for them to just send anywhere.”

Great, Hotch thinks.

“It’s perfect,” Emily snickers. “Hotch loves to take care of things and now he’s essentially got a toddler again.”

“She is potty trained,” Jack offers quickly.

But Emily is right and the idea is brilliant. Hotch does like to take care of things and having Scout will prompt him to start taking walks in the morning again. It might help him implement a strict eating routine, place him in the kitchen to feed her. He won’t go do things for himself but he will take her to the dog park and sit there until she’s tired. Throw balls for her to retrieve and (what had been the killing stone) is that she’s far too smart for her own good. She’s got other training. Senses anxiety and depression and is very protective.

Hotch frowns down at Scout, she’s placed her head on his knee watching him as he takes this in. Hank is leaned up against her side, fingers trailing through her short fur, and she’s entirely unbothered by it. She’s only worried about Hotch and Hotch is worried about her. He’s never had a pet before. Jack had a goldfish he fed occasionally but… there’s no way that counts.

“Thank you,” he says softly, rubbing at his fingers anxiously and frowning when Scout smacks his hand with her nose. He sighs and puts his hand on her head, scratching like he thinks she wants. Too distracted to note what she’s effortlessly just done. Put off by her clinginess, he’s not even thinking about the curling hot ball of nerves in his stomach. His mind does wander but she nudges him again and he sighs and keeps patting her head.

Dinner goes well and Scout and Hank are glued to his sides. Hank to his left feeding him chips and Scout green beans which Hotch sees and chooses to ignore. Her immediate allegiance to him is a little strange, she’s not too bothered with Garcia or Derek no matter how hard he tries to win her over (feeding her green beans just like his son). Scout does like Hank, Henry, Jack, and Reid. She takes to them like it’s nothing. She’ll go from ignoring Derek’s attempts to get her to sit to trot right over to Reid and lay over his feet.

Hotch does enjoy that, it’s funny.

They funnel out slowly after eight. Hank has already fallen asleep in Hotch’s arms and Savannah has to wipe his tears up and shush him back to hazy contentment with the promise he’ll see Hops soon. Derek will probably be over in a day or two to make sure that the shelf is holding up well and to transfer the books and he’ll bring Hank along to distract Hotch to do it.

JJ and Will trickle out not too long after. Henry and Jack conspire together to get Dave to take them for ice cream and he caves-- Jack promises to text him before he falls asleep to tell him where he landed for the night.

Garcia takes Reid home, won’t let him take the subway back at this hour and Hotch doesn’t even have to ask they just know to text him when they get home safe. He promises to eat the food Garcia left and she already has the date in which he should run out marked on her calendar. She’ll give him a week to bring back the Tupperware before coming over here herself and seeing what he has and hasn’t eaten.

Emily sticks around until ten. The two of them picking up meager things and she promises to come by early tomorrow and the two of them will go to PetSmart to figure out what kind of food Scout should be eating.

And before he knows it…

“I guess it’s just me and you then.” Scout tilts her head at him. “You want to… go to bed?”

He’s not really sure how the dog thing works. TV has shown him plenty of times they’re not supposed to sleep in your bed so he makes her a blanket bed of her own and marks down a dog bed on his list of things to get tomorrow at the pet store. He tells her goodnight and then blushes at how silly that sounds.

He’s in bed, changed into pajamas, and yawning into his book but he’s committed to reading a chapter every night. He hears her get up but he still jumps when his bedroom door is opened. She doesn’t wait for a command and doesn't listen to his “no” before jumping up into the bed alongside him. He’s trying to grumble, to get up but she lays right across his hips. Turning her head to look up at him and he gives up. “Only tonight,” he says.

Tonight turns into the way she sits between his legs, when they’re listening to the guy at PetSmart help them pick out food. To the way she looks up at him when he tries to estimate how big she’ll be to get her a properly sized bed. Which ultimately turns into him giving up and Emily hiding her smirk at just how whipped he already is.

Tonight turns into every night and if his nightmares stop coming as frequently because she’s laying atop him he doesn’t say anything. If he starts going out more and the team starts picking out pet friendly places to meet him for lunch or to have a coffee break then he also doesn't say anything but Scout is right there.

So… what exactly does it take to draw Aaron Hotchner away from the ghosts? A puppy.

[beauvibaby]

Across The Street — Part Two

read part one here

a/n: just a short two parted series for y’all, I hope you enjoyed it!

Surely this wouldn’t be easy.

Those words were all that ran through your mind, but, if you’re being truthful, you didn’t know if it was anything to be worried about. Considering how he just kissed you and walked off, who does that?

But then, he started texting you daily, and sneaking flirty comments in when you’d see him in public, just enough to keep your mind at ease. Not to mention the kisses stolen when it was just the two of you. He wasn’t used to something like this, for him it kind of just always happened, but with you, it was different. He wanted to show you how you should be treated, and he hated to admit that how he normally went about things wasn’t how you deserved to be treated.

“Good luck on your first day!”

His text read, following a good morning message as well, it was finally time for you to start watching Steven and Emily, you were beyond ecstatic to fall into a routine. You needed it, a constant in your life. You were at a red light, just outside the kids neighborhood when you sent him a thank you, and told him to have a good day. It sounded cliche, but the two of you didn’t have that awkward phase, you skipped straight into being comfortable together.

Parking your car, you went inside and proceeded to have an amazing first day, both of the kids so happy to have you there, putting their mom at ease. Emily clung to your hip most of the day, still being new to walking, but she happily babbled to you whenever she wasn’t napping, and Steven was proudly showing off his Lego collection to you, and adorably telling you how Emily wasn’t allowed near them because she tried to eat them. You gasped, making him feel proud that he at least thought he taught you something new. By the end of the day you were beaming ear to ear, and couldn’t help but call Tyler on your drive home, you didn’t think much of the gesture, but Tyler did.

“Hello?” He answered, confused, not expecting to hear from you, not that he was complaining. “Tyler! I just had the best first day, I’m already in love with those kids, they’re so sweet, and cute, oh my god!” You rambled, stopping when he began to laugh over the phone. “What?” You pouted, even if he couldn’t see you. “Nothing, it’s just–am I the first person you called?” He questioned, and your face warmed up, “maybe.” You sang, he laughed under his breath. “That’s sweet, baby.” The word slipped before he could stop it, and you swear you couldn’t get even redder than you already were. “Mhm, who else would I call?” You teased him, listening as he went silent, you heard movement before he spoke, “dunno, Cassidy? Henry? Jenny?” He offered, laughing groggily, “oh my god! I’m sorry, your nap.” You rushed checking the time, they were away for a game, the time difference, you felt terrible. “S’alright.” He mumbled, “go to sleep, Ty.” You demanded with a giggle, “call me after the game?” You added in a questioning tone, unsure if that was pushing the bounds of this new relationship. “It’ll be so late there.” He reminded you. “I don’t care.” You admitted, realizing how badly you wanted to see him now. “Ok, ok, I’ll call.” He laughed softly, “bye, Y/N.” He murmured, “bye.” You repeated, hanging up the call, chewing your lip, a smile evident on your face.

“Why are you so happy?” Henry teased the second you walked in, you rolled your eyes, slipping your shoes off by the door, “it was my first day remember?” You called, walking through the kitchen, “how was it?” He paused whatever show he was watching, looking over the back of the couch towards the kitchen. You pulled out something to cook for dinner, “it was great! They’re such a nice family.” You gushed, not boring him with the details, knowing he wouldn’t bother to listen anyways. “I’m going out with Jenny again tonight.” He spoke over his show as he turned it back on. Your eyebrows shot up, “really?” You squealed, bouncing in the kitchen. Henry only laughed in response at your enthusiasm. You were happy that the two were working out so far, and Jenny was the only one who knew about you and Tyler. Your mind drifted back to him as you cooked, about what it would be like to go on a proper date with him, not sneaking off when you were with your friends, or hushed conversations at night.

“Seriously, you're terrifyingly happy.” Henry grimaced, walking past you after he got ready for his date, you scoffed, trying to kick him as he walked past but he dodged it. “Am I not allowed to be happy oh dearest brother of mine?” You mumbled, scooping a spoonful of your rice and beef into your mouth. “I didn’t say that! It just seems like more than a good first day of work…” he trailed off, eyeing you suspiciously. “Is it a boy?” He raised an eyebrow, you shrugged, “don’t wanna be late for your date, Henry.” You pointed to the time, and he gasped, panicking as if she wasn’t just downstairs, but rightfully so, because then he’d have no excuse for being late. “Have fun!” You called as the door shut, slinking your way to your room after doing the dishes, you wasted time on your phone until the game was supposed to start. After making sure you had your things ready for work again tomorrow, your music cut off as you got a notification, making you rush over to your phone. A Snapchat from Tyler, a simple photo of his laced up skates, “almost game time, you gonna watch?”

You laughed, rolling your eyes, you already had the channel on the TV, and your Seguin jersey, of course you had one, it had been–at the time–a terrible Christmas gift from Henry, but now it wasn’t so bad. You walked over by the TV, taking a silly selfie, “of course I’m watching, I’m offended you thought I wouldn’t!”

He opened it nearly instantly, and you turned pink as you got the notification of him taking a screenshot. “That better be my jersey.” A chat, instead of a photo, “no, it’s Roope’s.” You laughed, receiving a string of angry emojis from him. You felt a little daring tonight, and you felt good, running off a high from today, so you stepped into the bathroom, turning to the side so the number on the sleeve showed, sending him a picture, the caption only being a winking face. This time you chuckled as he took a screenshot, he wasn’t shy, that’s for sure. He didn’t respond, which you expected as the game was supposed to start in a few minutes. You curled up against your headboard, plugging your phone in beside your bed and snuggling in for the game. Happy that Henry was out, giving you the chance to shout at the game as much as you want without him questioning your sudden concern for the players, Tyler specifically. But it was a good game, an easy game, which was good, as you weren’t sure you’d be able to handle anything serious happening when they were so far away.

When you woke up to your alarm, realizing Tyler never called, you were slightly upset, but it melted away when you saw the texts from him in your phone.

“Are you up?”

“Told you it was gonna be late, goodnight Y/N”

You laughed, typing out a congrats and good morning text before beginning your new routine for the day.

It went like this for a while, the boys gone on a string of away games for a couple of weeks, which felt like an eternity to you.

You were thankful for Henry’s ever changing work schedule, since he was working late tonight, installing traffic lights, you were going to Tyler’s house, he just got back this afternoon and insisted you come over, since you would have just been sitting alone at home. You were suddenly very aware that you were coming straight from work, your clothes reeking of the baby food Emily had spilt on you today. You grimaced, not coming to this realization until you were pulling up his driveway. No going back now, the dogs started barking when they heard your door shut, they came running out as Tyler opened the front door for them. “Hi puppies!” You shrieked kneeling in the grass, allowing them to smother you in licks and tail thumps. Gerry the youngest, and most excited jumped, putting his paws on your shoulders, sending you backwards into the grass. “Gerry!” Tyler laughed, coming over to you, you were a giggling mess underneath the dog, as he pinned you down, licking the sides of your face repeatedly. “Gerry, that’s enough.” Tyler spoke again, looking down at you with outstretched hands when the dog moved, you pouted, letting him help you up. “Don’t be so mean to him.” You mumbled teasingly as Gerry nudged between the two of you, Marshall and Cash calming down and sitting on either side of you. “Are you more excited to see me or the dogs?” Tyler questioned, wrapping his arms around your waist, you held your chin in thought. “Oh definitely the dogs.” You answered, laughing when he tried to move away from you. “No.” You whined, throwing your arms around his neck, “I missed you.” The words slipped from your mouth, but you couldn’t care to be embarrassed as he hummed in response before kissing you, maybe it was the two weeks apart, but this was definitely the best kiss you’ve had in your short relationship. He squeezed you a little tighter, “Ty.” You mumbled pulling away as he chased your lips, “Tyler.” You spoke again, laughing as he opened his eyes with a dramatic whine. “We’re still in your front yard.” You reminded him, he looked around, “whoops.” Dragging you inside, the dogs following happily.

You stayed tucked under his arm, giggling when he looked at you oddly, “what’s that smell?” He inquired, tilting his head to the side, you covered your mouth, hoping to hide the almost snort that fell from it. “Did you just snort?!” He gasped, trying his best not to laugh hysterically. “It’s baby food.” You answered, between your laughs, “the smell.” You added when he looked lost, “oh!” That sent him into a real fit of chuckles, “did you want a shirt?” He asked once he calmed down, you bit your lip but nodded, you saw his eyes flicker to your lips but he didn’t say anything. You followed him around the large house, trying to remember your way around. “So I was thinking.” Tyler trailed off, as he pulled a random stars shirt from his closet, “is that ever a good thing?” You retorted, watching as he gasped. “Well never mind then.” He huffed, handing you the shirt, making his way out of the room so you could change the material. “No, what is it?” You questioned following him, easily slipping the shirt on, it ended about mid thigh, but it didn’t matter as you had jeans on. “I was going to cook–“ he glanced back, eyeing you over, his words coming to a halt. “Uh, cook? Did you want to stay for dinner?” He managed to get out, you smirked, knowing his reaction was related to seeing you in his shirt. “I’d love to stay for dinner.” You answered with an innocent smile, resuming your spot under his arm, he nodded, clearing his throat as he walked. You laughed softly, such a guy.

You pushed yourself up onto the edge of the counter, swinging your legs girlishly, Tyler turned to face you, you motioned him closer. “You played so good when you were gone.” You mumbled, resting your arms over his shoulders, like this was a normal occurrence, his hands rested just above your knees. “Yeah?” He smiled, “you watched?” He questioned, hoping this was going in the way your touches were leading, but if it wasn’t, he wouldn’t be mad, he wouldn’t rush you. “I watched every game.” You mumbled, his smile only widened, “every game?” He smirked, sliding his hand up a little higher. “In your jersey.” You whispered, one hand moving up to play with his hair. He still didn’t make a move to kiss you. “Ty, do I have to spell it out, or are you going to make a move.” You whined, suddenly worried that he didn’t even want to be with you like that. You pushed him back, “did I read this wrong? Oh my god, I’m so embarrassed.” You rushed, hiding your face in your hands, Tyler grabbed your hands, moving them off your face. “No, you definitely didn’t read it wrong.” He pulled you in for a kiss, smirking when you sighed into it, his arms moved around your back the tips of his fingers dipping into your back pocket. You leaned away, keeping your forehead pressed against his. “I believe I was promised dinner first.” You teased, watching as he laughed, “I’m more of a dessert first kinda guy.” He mumbled, “Tyler Paul Seguin!” You shrieked, lightly whacking his arm, laughing but not fighting him when he pulled you back in. Yeah, it was a late dinner that night.

You looked in front of where Tyler parked, and over at him, then down at your clothes, “why are we so dressed up, to go to the park? At night?” You questioned, looking at him with confused eyes. Over a month of dating him, and he still managed to confuse you. Secret dating, keep in mind, so you were still learning somethings about each other. “Because, I didn’t want you to figure out what we were doing, and I thought you would like it.” He answered, cheeks pink, he shut the jeep off, demanding you stay in your seat as he hopped out. You giggled but agreed, not wanting to ruin his hard efforts, he opened the door for you, holding his hand out for you. “And they say chivalry is dead.” You laughed, allowing him to help you down, he grabbed your other hand, steadying you when you stumbled a bit in your heels. “Are we going in the grass?” You questioned, before he could shut the car door, “yes?” He answered skeptically. You placed a hand on his shoulder, using it to steady yourself as you reached down and pulled your heels off. “I’d sink if I tried to walk in the grass in these.” You laughed when he looked at you confused, he nodded, understanding what you meant. “Are you going to get cold?” He sounded concerned, releasing your hand to reach into the backseat while you threw your heels onto the floor of the passenger seat. He pulled out a basket, and your face fell into a happy pout. “Tyler, that’s so cute.” You gasped, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “Oh thank god.” He mumbled, the tension in his shoulders releasing. “You were nervous?” You asked, smiling as he laced your fingers together again.

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be nervous? I have to impress you.” He gasped dramatically, you smiled with a shake of your head, “you don’t have to do anything special to impress me.” You assured him, allowing him to lead you to a spot in the grass, a blanket already there, you smiled again, in awe of the effort he went through. “So cute.” You grinned, carefully sitting in your dress, he followed, sitting beside you, popping the basket open. You threw your head back in laughter when the food in the basket was takeout from your favorite restaurant, coincidentally the one you had went to the first night you moved here. “Surprise.” Tyler laughed, opening the container, “you remembered?” You gasped seeing the same pasta you ordered that night. He shrugged, looking down as he stuck a fork into his food, “aw, bub, thank you.” You placed your hand on his leg, “this is all really sweet.” You added, giving him a quick kiss, “I’m glad you like it.” He mumbled, shifting in his spot, taking another bite of his food. You put your food down, moving to be in front of him, holding back your insecurities, “are you alright, Tyler? You’re acting weird.” You questioned, sitting in front of him. “I’ve never done stuff like this.” He admitted, finally, finally, meeting your eyes. “What?” You didn’t understand what he meant.

“Romantic stuff, personal stuff, I just, I’ve never wanted to do it for someone before.” He explained, watching as you nodded, processing his words, “I’m flattered that you want to do those things for me, I really am, but Tyler. I don’t want you to think you have to do this to impress me, I’m perfectly happy spending our dates watching Netflix and playing with the dogs.” You explained, wishing he would understand that, this wasn’t how you wanted tonight to go. “Yeah, but you deserve this too.” He sighed, also frustrated with how this date started going. You shook your head, taking a bite of your food, “we’re trying too hard.” You deadpanned, and it was true, both of you were trying to rush this along, but you didn’t have too. There was no rush, there was no need to speed it up, you already knew each other, and maybe, just maybe, that’s why the two of you were trying to be farther along than you were. “I know.” He sighed, undoing a button on his shirt, slumping down more. “Let’s just talk then.” He added, relaxing as he realized you felt the same.

“Mhm, this food is cold but good.” You laughed, bringing your teasing back into the date, Tyler chuckled, desperately stabbing at his pasta, the noodles continuing to mush and roll away from his fork, “how’s work?” He asked, missing the stories you would call and tell him when he was on the road, you grinned and pulled your phone out, showing him the video you took of Emily walking completely on her own to Steven. He felt much more at peace as the two of you fell into easy conversation, and how he could look at you while you spoke and see the happiness you emitted as you talked about them. “They’re cute.” Tyler commented, smiling at the pictures of them you had, “I love them, it’s not even like a job, you know? I just love going to see them every–what? Why are you looking at me like that?” You cut yourself off, catching the way he was smiling, his most genuine one so far. “Cause you’re cute when you ramble.” He answered in a duh tone, “see this is much better.” You grinned, scooting closer to him, letting out a surprised shriek when he pulled you over one of his legs, leaving you sitting between them, your back against his chest. He smiled, placing a lazy kiss to your cheek, “can I ask something?” He murmured, wrapping his arms around your torso. “Anything.” You mumbled, leaning further into his hold, when he didn’t speak you looked up to see him smiling down at you fondly.

“It’s stupid, but I’ve always wondered–more so now, what you were really crying about on the dock that night.” Tyler explained, confusion settling on his face when you started giggling uncontrollably, never thinking you’d be having this conversation. “What?” He questioned when you looked at him and started laughing harder, you took a breath, calming yourself down. “It’s stupid, Ty, you wouldn’t understand.” You mumbled, it didn’t matter if he knew now, he was your boyfriend after all, you just knew he’d be confused. “Try me!” He whined, now really interested at the fact you were laughing about it now, but crying about it then. “I was the first one of my friends to have boobs.” You spoke bluntly, and he stared at you, trying to determine if you were being serious. “You were crying over that?” He mumbled, eyebrows knit together in confusion. “Oh my god,” you paused to laugh, smoothing the wrinkles on his forehead out, “it’s not like guys, girls were mean because of it. And older guys would stare, it was just not a good year.” You laughed, Tyler still looking at you uncertain, “why did I ask.” He muttered, nuzzling his face into your neck. “Dunno, babe.” You sighed, happy with his reaction to the pet name, you could feel him smiling against your skin. He was definitely the one that used your name less, but maybe now you’d start using his name less too.

****

Jenny smirked at you as you kept changing your mind about what to wear to this house party, more of a get together but you were certain there would be more people there than you thought. “You don’t want to be obvious.” She reminded you, being the only one that knew about you and Tyler, tonight would be the first time you two were hanging out in such a public setting with all your friends around, and you were wondering how it would go, and quite honestly, how you would keep yourself from kissing him the second you got there. “I know, but I also want to know that he’s looking at me.” You spoke sheepishly, holding the two options out for her to survey. “Oh, definitely this one.” She pointed to the light wash skinny jeans, and burgundy sweater, “with those cute cut out boots!” She added, clapping her hands in success. You laughed, but did as she said, feeling good about yourself once you had the outfit on. “Are you guys ready yet?” Henry groaned from the living room, the two of you laughed, Jenny pulled her sweater on, giving you a smile, “let’s do this.” You were so grateful that she was your friend as much as she was your brother's girlfriend, it was the ideal situation to get along with someone so important in his life. “Quit rushing us.” Jenny chastised him once you two walked out of your room, he rolled his eyes but gave her a quick peck before heading to the door.

You arrived at Tyler’s house, shooting him a smile when he saw you, nothing too conspicuous, Roope waved, as well as some of the other guys who were here. Jamie gave you a quick hug, you’d grown quite close to him over the past couple of months, considering how often he was around Tyler. You made your way to the kitchen, grabbing yourself a drink, jumping when you felt arms wrapped around your waist. “Hi, baby.” Tyler mumbled, spinning your around for a quick kiss, you smiled against him, “hi.” You breathed out, “don’t get us caught.” You demanded, lightly pushing at him when he placed a kiss to the side of your neck. “Just getting my fix.” He teased, giving you one last peck before putting some space between the two of you. He started a casual conversation with one of the guys while they walked into the kitchen, getting themselves some drinks too. You snuck out, squeezing past them, mumbling a sorry when your hand grazed over Tyler’s. He smiled at you, hiding a laugh from your purposeful action.

“Hey, Y/N.” Roope smiled when you sat beside him on the couch, “hey, how’ve you been?” You questioned, settling into random conversation with the group around you, Henry being across the room with Jenny glued to his side, Roope beside you, and Esa beside him with his girlfriend. “Good, what about you?” He answered, keeping the talking going. You soon drifted into talking about random things, from work, to hockey, to random stories from over the years. Your head snapped up when Tyler walked in, a girl trying to keep herself tucked into his side, your stomach clenched, and you had to resist the urge reacting. Of course, you knew that since you wanted to keep this a secret, he couldn’t just stop his normal behavior completely. You shifted in your spot, before deciding to go get another drink, you made it a little stronger than the last one. “Y/N, are you alright?” Jenny came in beside you, she watched as you shrugged, “yeah, it’s just weird.” You admitted, giving her a solemn smile. “Maybe you guys should just stop keeping it a secret? Henry would get over it.” She offered, and you wanted to do that, but you were nervous. “I’m just afraid that if we do that, things will change, it’s been so easy! Not having to deal with people's opinions, or the boys chirping him.” You explained, sipping on your drink, the girl that was attached to Tyler just a moment ago, walked in and got herself a drink, already seeming more than tipsy enough. You shook your head, walking out as the conversation ended now. Tyler watched you walk out the back door where more people had dispersed, he discreetly followed you, pulling you to the side. “Tyler.” You sighed, he pulled you into the pool house, “don’t be mad, it’s just for show. I haven’t don’t anything with her, and you know I wouldn’t.” He rushed to explain, afraid you were upset with him. “You can’t expect it to be easy for me, how would you feel if I walked out with some guy wrapped around me?” You retorted, not meaning to snap, his face fell.

“I wouldn’t like it.” He confirmed, reaching for your waist, pulling you closer to him, “baby, I would walk out there right now with you all over me if you let me.” He assured you, he was over keeping it private after just over a month of sneaking around, he wanted to show you off, and be able to kiss you and hug you whenever he wanted. You nodded biting your lip, “I know, bub, soon, not tonight.” You whispered, pulling him in for a sweet kiss, “I promise, soon.” You added, feeling him nod against you. “Do you think you could figure out a way to stay tonight?” He mumbled, pushing your hair back. “I’ll figure it out.” You smiled, kissing him once more before sneaking out, he waited around in there for a minute, making sure nobody noticed how you both had walked out.

Instantly you went to find Jenny, hating that you were asking her but you needed a way to stay here without Henry questioning it. “Hey, Jenny, can I talk to you for a minute?” You asked, she looked up at you, smiling, Henry released her waist as she stood to follow you. “I’m spending the night here, is there anyway you could keep Henry distracted?” You pouted at the slightly older girl, she laughed, “one step ahead of you, he’s staying at my place tonight, he won’t know you didn’t come home.” She winked, strutting back to him, your mouth agape, “too much information.” You grimaced before she reached him, she laughed at you but accepted your grateful smile. As you were walking back towards the center of the party, you passed Tyler huddled around some of the guys, his cheeks pink, “is it her?” Miro asked, Tyler shook his head. “No you guys it isn’t like that.” He mumbled, “then what is it like? That girls been all over you tonight, and you don’t get marks on your back for no reason.” Jamie chirped the younger guy, your stomach dropped to your feet. They didn’t notice you as you walked by.

Before you knew it, everyone was gone, and you had more than one to many drinks. You were sitting on the couch, trying to hold your emotions together, but the alcohol only made you want to cry more. Tyler sighed, sitting beside you, for the first time all night, and only then did he realize how much you had drank. “Baby?” He laughed, reaching for your hand, his face quickly falling when you yanked away from him, he wasn’t completely in the wrong here, you were the one keeping it secret, but now your insecurities were getting the best of you. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He tried again, you shrunk away from him, “I don’t want to talk about it.” You sniffled, wishing you could hide. He shook his head, moving in front of you, “talk to me, don’t do this.” He murmured, grabbing your hands before you could move again, you looked down at him as he kneeled in front of the couch, he rested your connected hands on your lap. “I just–are you sure you want this? Want me?” You whimpered, the water slipping over your eyes, if you had been sober, you’d see the way Tyler’s heart so clearly broke when you started crying. “Y/N, of course I’m sure.” He rushed, releasing your hands to cup your face, “but you looked so much better with that other girl.” You admitted, and he realized these tears were more about yourself doubt than anything. He shook his head, “no, I look better with you, baby.” He assured, wiping at the tears, “I promise, you’re the one I want to parade around with at parties, only you.” He tilted your head down, kissing your forehead, frowning when your body slumped with a cry. “I’m sorry.” You whispered, “for what?” He gasped, leaning away to meet your eyes again.

“For keeping it a secret.” You whined, feeling your head already begin to hurt. “It’s alright, princess, let’s just get you to bed, yeah?” He murmured lovingly, helping you to your feet.

When you went to sleep that night you could swear he whispered an I love you into your hair, but you were too far gone to be certain.

Your hands shot to your head when you woke up, the pounding being unbearable, you shifted in the bed, freezing when you felt the weight of Tyler’s arm over your waist. He groaned incoherently into his pillow, “my head hurts.” You whispered, he groggily chuckled into his pillow, lifting his head slowly. “Mhm, I figured it would.” He smiled, he left a careful kiss to your head before pointing to the nightstand and laying back down. You looked over and saw a water and pain killers sitting there, you quickly took some before curling back into the bed. He watched you with a lazy smile as you rolled closer to him, “Ty?” You murmured, a hand resting on his jaw, lightly rubbing against his beard, he raised a brow at you. “I love you too.” You sighed, he widened his eyes before a cheeky smile came over his face, “I didn’t think you heard me.” He laughed, quietly, not wanting to hurt your head anymore. “I kinda took a leap of faith, assuming that I had heard you correctly.” You breathed out in relief, laying your head back down, “we can tell Henry, but not until after you make it to the conference final.” You added, smiling when he shot up, “really?” He gasped, apologizing when you winced. “Yes, now shush.”

***

This was it, the game that would tell you if they made it to the conference finals. You were sitting in the stands with Henry and Jenny, all three of you anxious beyond belief, this was a huge deal, and you were praying they’d make it through. Tyler and you had decided that if they won, you’d tell Henry tonight, right after the game, because Tyler knew he wouldn’t be able to resist kissing you during his game winning high, and well, if they didn’t, you’d probably also tell Henry tonight because you’d be a mess worrying for Tyler.

Puck drop, your heart rate picked up, grinning when Jamie won it, and sent it flying behind him. A good start, setting the tone. You could only hope the game would continue like that.

The first period did, if anything it got even better, they were ahead by two, the other team not even scoring.

The second period, that’s where things began to shift, the score was tied, Tyler was on the end of a long shift. He had been a little bit more feisty tonight, and that’s how you saw it coming, the way the player from the other team was skating right towards him, it was definitely going to draw a penalty as Tyler had passed the puck long before the opponent reached him. It felt like slow motion as you shot to your feet before they collided, Henry followed right after you, not noticing how you gasped sharply and your hands shot to your mouth. You watched Tyler’s head bounce off the ice as he went down, how thankful you were that his helmet hadn’t come off in the hit. He slid a little bit before the refs were blowing whistles constantly, swarming over to them as the opposing team member stood there, they directed him to a penalty box, Jamie skating over to Tyler as he didn’t try to get up. You watched your boyfriends hands go up to his face, hiding it from the cameras. Jenny wrapped you up in a hug, allowing you to hide your face in her hair. “It’s ok, he’s going to be fine, I’m sure.” She tried to assure you, but even her voice was shaky, it was a terrible hit.

You removed your head from her hair, and saw the team doctor making his way to the ice, kneeling beside him, he felt around his neck and shoulders, making sure nothing was broken, eventually, what felt like hours but was only two minutes, they were helping him to his feet, slowly walking him off the ice. Jamie came over to the glass in front of your section, searching for you. Jenny spotted him first, pointing him out to you. “Go.” He mouthed, having figured out your relationship quickly, you looked to Jenny with tears in your eyes, Henry coming to his senses and looking between you and the ice, eyes moving quicker than you’d ever seen. “Why you? What’s–oh my god.” It hit him, as you scrambled to make sure you had your phone, “go, go.” Jenny assured you, seeing the way you hesitated, you didn’t wait any longer, and took off towards the tunnels you’d learned your way around so well. Henry was calling for you over the sound of the crowd talking, but you didn’t stop, you could hear Jenny faintly as she told him to calm down.

You reached the locker room in record time, the security guard telling you that you couldn’t go in until they were done, you watched as people kept going in and out. Only furthering your nerves, you couldn’t be bothered to care anymore, the second they came out and one of them looked at you, you lost it. “I’m guessing your Y/N?” He spoke, a soft smile on his face, you nodded vigorously, “you can go in there now.” As you heard the loud speakers, “number 91 Tyler Seguin will not be returning to play tonight” your heart dropped, not needing to hear anything else as you stormed in there. Tyler sitting in the corner of the room, in a chair with his eyes shut, a bandage over his shoulder, and his brows furrowed in pain. You froze, letting out a cry at the sight of him, so clearly in pain, his eyes fluttered open at the sound, the second he met your eyes you were rushing over to him.

“Are you ok?” You whispered, carefully cupping his jaw, he nodded, wincing, “don’t cry because of me.” He mumbled, smiling softly when you shook your head with a breathy laugh. “You scared the crap out of me, Ty, that was the worst thing I’ve ever seen.” You sighed, gently kissing his pouted lips. “How bad is it?” You asked once you pulled away, carefully touching his shoulder, he groaned, and you instantly pulled your hand away. “Dislocation and a concussion, they put it back in, but damn it hurts like a bitch.” He muttered. “I’m sorry, baby.” You spoke gently, sitting beside him, he nodded, resting his head carefully back against the wall. You carefully played with his hair, knowing it soothed him, he smiled at the gesture, “you’re gonna put me to sleep.” He laughed gently, placing his hand on your thigh, squeezing it reassuringly. “I love you.” You murmured, moving to place your hand over his, “I love you.” He repeated, so happy that you were here with him. He leaned his head onto your shoulder, also happy that you sat on his good side, “I think Henry knows now.” You whispered.

The door opened and both of you looked over, Henry standing there in shock. “Yeah, I know.” He snapped, arms crossed, neither of you made an effort to move, he shook his head, “don’t be a dick, Henry.” You snapped, Tyler laughing but stopping as it increased the pain in his head. “Careful, bub.” You whispered, returning your hand to his hair, ignoring your brother, if he wasn’t going to be nice, then he didn’t deserve your attention. “How long?” Henry asked, in a softer tone, aware of how Tyler must be hurting. You sighed, “almost three months.” You practically mouthed, but he definitely heard you as his jaw all but dropped to the floor. “Three months?!” He snapped, and you glared when Tyler groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. You carefully pushed him off of you, “let me go talk to him.” You whispered, pecking him quickly, before dragging Henry out of there. “How? Tyler I mean–the age gap, but he’s him.” Henry stuttered out, his face pale, you shook your head. “Henry, I’m not in the mood to do this. This is why I didn’t want to tell you.” You mumbled, arms crossed as you looked up at him. “You can’t expect me to just be ok with this all of a sudden, you’re dating my best friend, that’s gross.” He snapped, and that was the last straw for you.

You tuned out the sound of the final buzzer filling the arena as you got close to Henry, “I love him, and he loves me. You’re just going to have to be a grown up about this, so you can either suck it up, and be a good brother, or you can go home and I’ll stay here to take care of my boyfriend.” You snapped, Henry looked behind you at the influx of sad hockey players, you whipped around, taking in their faces. “Oh, I’m sorry guys.” You gasped, Jamie nodding solemnly, when you turned back around Henry was walking off, not daring to give you a second look.

And then, if it couldn’t be worse, you looked to your left and saw Tyler standing there, not taking too long for him to figure out what happened. “Damn it!” He snapped, slamming his hand against the cement wall, you were there in an instant, surprised when he hugged you, hiding his face in your neck. “I’m sorry, Tyler, it’s not your fault.” You whispered, hearing the guys moving past you, they were suffering too. “Hey, look at me.” You demanded, leaning away from him, he looked at you with glazed over eyes, “you’re gonna go in there, and carefully put some clothes on, you’re going to take a minute to be with your team, and then you’re gonna come out here, and I’m gonna take you home. Everything’s going to be ok, Henry can go be a pain, I don’t care, as long as I know you’re ok.” You spoke sternly, but still had a softness in your voice. “Ok, baby, please. It’s going to be ok, I promise.” You whispered, he nodded slowly, kissing your forehead before forcing himself back into the locker room.

Finally, when he did re-emerge, he seemed to be in slightly better spirits, allowing you to take him home and stay with him.

Although, the next day you had to go back to your place, having to get ready for work, Tyler protested, milking his injuries for all he could get. “I’ll FaceTime you when the kids are napping, you’ll live, babe.” You had told him as you walked out the door, despite his whining from the couch. A man child, that was your conclusion.

When you got to the kids house, you were surprised to see them with the hockey channel on, your heart stopped for a moment as they were discussing Tyler’s injuries, of course, you couldn’t escape it. “Oh, Frank had it on last night, I didn’t even realize when I turned the tv on.” Julie spoke when she saw you looking at it, “oh, honey. What’s wrong?” She questioned, sensing your off mood as she finished cooking the kids breakfast, having a late start at her office today. “What? Nothing, I’m fine!” You assured her, the two of you had grown close, she was like an older version of you, it was nice, she really cared for you. She raised a brow at you, watching as you picked up Emily who was grabbing at your legs, you kissed the girls chubby cheek, smiling when she giggled, “Tyler Seguin,” you motioned to the tv, where somehow they were still replaying the hit, “that’s my boyfriend.” You told her, Steven shrieked. “You know Tyler!?” He shouted, a grin over his face, you weren’t sure how hockey hadn’t come up, but now that you think about it, Frank did have some stars items in his office. “I do.” You smiled down at the boy, Julie still processing it, “he’s a lucky man.” She finally spoke, sending you a smile when you blushed. “Hopefully he’s doing alright.” She added, “Frank played in college, I hated it.” She explained, seeing the way you were looking at her. Oh, “he’s alright, he’ll be back at it before you know it.” You laughed softly, Steven rambling off so many questions, apparently sharing his dads love for hockey.

“Steven, calm down honey.” His mother laughed, helping him climb into his chair at the dining table while you strapped Emily into her high chair, “I really have to be leaving for work, hopefully he doesn’t bug you too much about this new information.” Julie smiled, you waved her off, “it’s fine.”

And it was, truly, and while he was eating breakfast and rambling about hockey and asking you questions, to which you answered to the best of your availability, you had recorded a clip to show Tyler, of how excited Steven was. Which Tyler loved, and made sure to get some stuff for you to give him.

You walked into your apartment, hoping Henry had already left for work but when you saw his boots by the door you knew he hadn’t. “Y/N?” He rushed around the corner, you looked at him with wide eyes, “I’m sorry.” He mumbled, sheepishly, his face showing his regret, you hadn’t spoken to him in over a week. Ever since he found out about the two of you, “I should’ve reacted better, I mean, I should be happy that you’re dating such a good guy. Someone that I trust.” He rambled, you stayed silent, you were still angry, it hurt for him to so blatantly choose to be upset over supporting you. “Ok.” You sighed, and he stared at you blankly, “ok? All I’m getting is an ok? When you’re the ones who hid it from me?” He looked exasperated, “that’s all Tyler said too. You guys are insufferable.” Henry muttered, this peeked your interest. “Wait, you talked to him?” You questioned, finally shutting the door to the apartment. “Yeah, like three days ago, he said he wasn’t going to say anything else until I talked to you.” He looked at you skeptically when you started smiling like a fool. “Damn, you really do love him don’t you?” He sighed, shaking his head. “Just don’t kiss in front of me and we’ll be fine.” He gave in, laughing when you jumped on him in a hug. “Deal, deal, deal.” You grinned, happily rushing off to your room.

You dialed Tyler’s contact, his face popping up on your screen shortly after, “hi baby.” He grinned, only smiling more when he took in the happiness on your face. “Why are you so smiley?” He teased, you shrugged, “I talked to Henry…” you trailed off, and Tyler nodded, “Mhm, and how’d that go?” He hummed, you rolled your eyes, “I’m quoting him, ‘just don’t kiss in front of me and we’ll be fine’.” You mocked your brother's voice making Tyler laugh deeply. “It’s about damn time.”

A couple of days later you told all your friends after a game, and the two of you FaceTime Cassidy and Candace, they reacted much better than Henry, that’s for sure. Then you made it public by posting a photo on social media, the two of you smiling brightly, Tyler towering over you as he was still dressed in his skates, you were looking up at him with a goofy grin as he laughed at something Jamie had said. His arm around your shoulders and your hand resting on his chest.

“Who knew moving across the street would lead to all of this…”

taglist: @vinceduhn​ @vincecdunn​ @kempe​ @literarycharleton​ @wtfkie​ @myjacketisblue @jackiesquinn​ @summer--infinity

[period-dramallama]

Spanish Princess Episode 5: many many thoughts

Strap yo selves in 

-WHERE WAS THE APOLOGY?? Lina’s just back with Catherine like nothing happened?? 

-Katherine, I get why you’re upset, but you kind of should be unsurprised?? Your dad was unfaithful to his wife, most kings were. Henry VII and Richard III were the exceptions, and even they had illegitimate sons before their marriages. Many kings also had official mistresses that everyone knew about, so by the standards of the time Henry and Bessie are actually being pretty tactful in at least trying to keep their affair out of sight. (Sexy dancing aside). 

-Honestly it would have been so much more moving if KoA was like “I know kings take mistresses...but I thought...I was so sure... he would be different...”

-”they gave me a purse of gold!” It’s expected that you give the monarch lavish presents, lmao Ursula and Stafford would do that even if they hated each other and you

-”everybody loves a masque” the only sensible thing Henry has said so far in this show. Also court probably had way more masques than we see in the show, and it would standard to have a masque every holiday. 

-”she is not a boy” hurry up with your character development and learn to love Mary already i am so TIRED of this miserable BS

-seems a rather depopulated masque? If the Chateau Vert pageant is anything to go by putting on a masque was a court activity, with most of the ladies performing.  

-Bessie Blount in her cute masque costume... sweet mother i cannot weave Aphrodite has overcome me with GAAAAAAAAAAAAY

-”I never enjoyed carousing...my mother scolded me” look i love the Neville sisters with my whole heart but a) Margaret was 3 at most when her mother died, how does she remember her? She’d have clearer memories of her double-uncle and double-aunt, Richard III and Queen Anne b) Isabel Neville in the White Queen was established as very prim and proper, a well-bred girl who cared about enforcing decorum, she refused to ‘carouse’ and she certainly would never bring a 3 year old to a party c) we saw little Margaret as a girl at the end of the White Queen and she didn’t seem at all shy. 

-”she died young, didn’t she” ...yes? most people did?

-”they both did” understatement of the year. Isabel Neville died young because she was ill, George died young (in the universe of The White Queen, at least) BECAUSE HE WAS FORCEFULLY DROWNED IN A VAT OF MALMSEY WINE. THESE TWO THINGS ARE NOT THE SAME! I do at least trust the writers of this show that the understatement was intentional, I’m sure even Emma Frost couldn’t forget a major character getting violently drowned.

-So the court only noticed the plague when one of their own got it so obviously and then died? Yes, plague could move fast, but if there was a whiff of plague the court would flee with the speed of the Looney Tunes road runner. If an acquaintance of an acquaintance of a cook had a cousin who saw someone with the plague, the court would flee to the country. How have these people not died of terminal stupid?! Like Compton was in the same building as the heir to the throne

-To be fair, it makes sense that they’re surprised Compton’s dead. Because the real Compton died of the sweating sickness. In 1528. Also he was involved in Buckingham’s downfall so... you just wrote yourself into a corner.

-Oh wow an actual good reason for More and Pole to be quarantined together i am amaaaaaazed

-”attend the queen” Boleyn, what do you think your daughter’s been doing all season if not attending the queen? Playing tetris?

-Katherine helping Anne into the wagon...I actually like that little moment. Like it does make sense, because the two have no reason to hate each other yet. (And who couldn’t like Anne? She’s such a babby!)

-Thomas More in the Tudor equivalent of casual clothes... much better. Shame about the 1930s lady’s wig.

-”what else should we do?” Maggie, this cannot be the first epidemic you’ve ever lived through. Have you forgotten the sweating sickness of 1485? You’ve probably lived through more epidemics than Oviedo has, you should know the protocol better than him.

-Oviedo continues to be the only man with rights. I wish we could see him crying and missing his wife and babies, but then my lil heart would break so maybe it’s for the best.

-They burn Maggie’s weird blue hood AS THEY SHOULD! IT WAS UGLY AND STUPID! I NEVER HAVE TO LOOK AT IT AGAIN NOW! THANK YOU SO MUCH! yes they also burned her nice dress with the strawberries on it but honestly it’s worth it, bc now i can rest easy, knowing the evil hood has been defeated.

-”you were a plaything” Katherine is so obviously insecure. I’m getting second-hand embarrassment. Like if she really was certain Bessie wasn’t important, she wouldn’t need to say it, would she? Except to rub it in. Which this KOA would absolutely do. 

-literally all Bessie said was good morning?? Like Bessie is doing her best?? The masque was Henry’s idea, not hers, she hasn’t shown off about her affair, she hasn’t demanded money or titles, she hasn’t demanded any status to rival Katherine’s, she doesn’t flirt with or even speak to Henry when Katherine’s around, she acts like they’re strangers, she doesn’t even react when Katherine loses her temper...someone please please stick up for Bessie!

-”the rocking of the cart is unsettling to the stomach” is Anne naive, or is she covering for Bessie? I hope it’s the latter, in which case Anne is the one person looking out for Bessie...the babby is Soft, I repeat the babby is Soft!

-the irony of Mary being cold to Bessie when she’s next in the firing line...

-”it is not the rocking” Thank you Lina, where would we be without your gift for stating the obvious?

-”where did Wolsey get his money”...He’s a churchman...at the top of the church hierarchy...how do you fuckin think he got wealthy. Have y’all not been in the sixteenth century for five minutes? Why do you think Luther is so mad at the church?

-”I know of no other man in her bed most nights” Honestly wow I’m surprised KoA wasn’t like “well :/ a girl like that :/ who knows how many men process in and out of her bed :/” KoA gets half a point for being less bitchy than usual. Also Bessie looked so uncomfortable with Henry groping her stomach in front of Katherine. I pray the next man in her life treats her right and that Fraham don’t prematurely kill her off like they did with Compton.  

-”the future king” if you’re regent on his behalf, then he’s already king! “Civilised companionship” back at it again with the Scots-are-barbarians.

-Laura Carmichael is utterly stunning this episode, with her hair down. The cinematography was beautiful in general this week.

-”freedom to speak and licence to speak are two different things” hey look at that one of Thomas More’s actual beliefs. I am giving all the credit to the historical advisor for that, I don’t believe for one second Fraham knew that beforehand.

-Maggie I love you but no, God does not sanction adultery. For any reason. 

-KOA smirking and gloating about Bessie’s pain...she has never been so punchable. I would understand, if not condone it, if Bessie was manipulative, or greedy, or ambitious, or trying to supplant Katherine. But Bessie’s been betrayed by Henry too, and there’s no concrete evidence she ever gloated about her affair, to anyone let alone Katherine.  

-”You think only of your own fate while London is struck down with plague” Earth to Katherine?? What concern have you shown for the Londoners?? Also calling Bessie selfish...Bessie’s not the one who lashed out at Lina, was jealous at Lina for having twin boys, and who wanted to continue a war for personal reasons. And then Bessie proves KoA wrong 5 hot seconds later by sticking up for Mary. Bit rich of KoA to be all “how dare you leave my daughter unattended” when she herself won’t even hold Mary. 

-”Louis didn’t last a year” What! Is! The Timeline!

-Meg in that cloak reminds me of the Scottish Widow adverts. Georgie is so greedy- she steals every single scene she is in! Even when she’s raging she has more dignity and more presence than KoA ever has.

-”YOU LYING SOD” i burst out laughing it’s really not the little two-timing shit’s day, is it?

-Mary receiving Charlie B in the most Extra way possible. A++

-Why does Wolsey look like he’s about to cry?

-”thoughts are not actions” Lina I love you but... that is NOT what the New Testament says. Jesus said evil thoughts are very very much sins. I’ll give you a pass because maybe you haven’t been Catholic as long as Katherine has? Idk your backstory.

-Aaand now she’s wishing death on Bessie and her unborn baby and Lina isn’t disgusted? At least Katherine is feeling guilty. AS SHE SHOULD.

-”must it always fall to me to be magnanimous?” Katherine, you think only of yourself, for 23 out of every 24 hours. 

-”God wants me to be compassionate to Bessie because of my sins” God wants you to be compassionate because that’s how Christianity is supposed to work. It’s not very selfless of you to decide to be selfless so that you can get what you want. 

-oh wow look at that! She’s getting some self-awareness, i never saw that coming.

-”you betrayed Bessie” 5 points to Katherine of Aragon for standing up for Bessie when Henry screwed her over. Finally, some positive character development.

- MINUS 20000 POINTS FOR BABY STEALING

-WHAT THE FUCK

-is henry so dumb he thinks that baby is Katherine’s? Katherine was so obviously not pregnant

-When a baby’s born his skin needs to touch his mother’s skin so they can bond. They should have at least an hour’s cuddle time. Katherine of Aragon is literally traumatising a baby the very minute he is born. For her own selfish, selfish desires. 

[wistfulcynic]

The Meet-Cute (2 of 2)

In which Ruby decides that what Emma’s love life needs is a good old-fashioned meet-cute, and sets about arranging one for her. Or two, or three, or six... whatever, she’ll set up however many it takes for her friend to meet The One. But it may turn out that Emma doesn’t need any help finding The One after all...

First part on Tumblr and AO3 

a/n: this chapter contains sweetness, quite a lot of silliness, and a big ol’ hot kiss. 

Thanks to @optomisticgirl for the idea and @thisonesatellite, @ohmightydevviepuu, and @katie-dub for support and general delightfulness. 

-

PART TWO:

The next day was Wednesday and Emma spent the morning on patrol, driving around Storybrooke and trying not to think about how far away Friday was. She was just about to take a break and go to Granny’s for some coffee when her phone rang. The name on the screen was just about the last one she would ever have expected, and she frowned hard at it for the space of a good four rings before answering. 

“Graham?” 

“Hey, Emma.” His voice was just as she remembered it, gruff and accented. And faintly apologetic, which was new. “Um. Long time.” 

“Yeah, I guess you could say that. How’s life in the woods?”

“Ah, yeah, it’s good. And, um, about that. It’s actually why I’m calling. Because I can’t come in to town, I mean.” 

“Well I didn’t think it was because you wanted to catch up on old times,” said Emma drily. “What’s the problem?” 

“It’s my truck.” Graham paused and the silence stretched. 

“Your truck?” Emma prompted, her patience wearing thin. She was not in the mood for Graham’s strong-and-silent schtick today.  

“My truck.” He sighed. “It—well, it seems to be out of gas.” 

Emma rubbed her temples. “And how is your lack of forward planning the responsibility of the Storybrooke Sheriff’s Department?” she asked, in a voice just shy of a snap. 

“Well that’s the thing, I did forward plan,” said Graham. “I had a full tank last night because I knew that today I needed to drive to Portland. There’s a forestry convention I’m going to—well, it’s not important, but I wanted to get an early start so I made sure everything was ready before I went to bed last night. Then this morning I wake up to find my tank empty and the spare can missing.”

A creeping suspicion was beginning to crawl up Emma’s spine. “So you think, what, someone stole your gas?” 

“I know it sounds crazy, but honestly I can’t come up with any other explanation.” 

“Graham, do you happen to know Ruby Lucas?” 

He paused, and when he spoke again his voice was confused. “Ah, the woman at the diner?” 

“That’s her.” 

“I chat with her whenever I go there, maybe once or twice a month. She seems nice. Why?” 

“No reason.” Emma glowered through her windshield at Granny’s sign as she drove past it. “Listen, I can bring you a can of gas but it’ll take me at least half an hour to get it and get out to you. Does that leave you enough time to get to Portland?” 

“Yeah, it should. I’ll have to change my plans a bit, but it’ll be okay. Only, Emma, what about the person who emptied my tank—” 

Emma set her jaw as she pulled into the gas station. “I’ll take care of it.” 

—

Thursday morning found her in Granny’s early, marching up to the counter with her fists planted on her hips. 

“I could arrest you, you know. I probably should.” 

“What?” Ruby blinked innocent eyes as she prepared Emma’s coffee, with plenty of milk and extra cinnamon and hazelnut syrups. “What did I do?” 

“Emptying a gas tank is stealing, Rubes. You’ve got to stop doing this stuff!” 

Ruby handed her the coffee, and a bag containing a fresh bear claw. Emma scowled at it as Ruby asked “Did it get you a date, at least?” 

“It did not. At least, not in this decade.” 

“Um.” Ruby frowned. “What?” 

“I already dated Graham.” Emma decided that while the bear claw was unmistakably a bribe she could always just eat the evidence, and took a big bite. 

“You did?” Ruby demanded. “When?” 

“I’m surprised you don’t remember,” muttered Emma around her mouthful of pastry and nuts. “It wasn’t long after I moved to Storybrooke. Just before he decided to ‘escape the cage of civilisation’ and moved out to the middle of nowhere.” 

“Wait, wait. It’s coming back to me now. Are you saying that Graham is Mountain Lodge Guy?” 

“Yep.” 

“Fuuuuck Ems, I’m sorry.” To her credit, Ruby did look genuinely apologetic. 

“Well you should be,” retorted Emma, hardening her heart. “And you should stop doing this, Ruby! It’s getting ridiculous. I mean, it was always ridiculous but now it’s branching into minor-felony-level ridiculous. Please, I am begging you, stop.” 

“Ah,” said Ruby, biting her lip. “Um, can I stop tomorrow?” 

Emma’ blood ran cold. “Why?”

“I—may have already put the next plan into motion.” 

“What? What plan?” Emma demanded, just as her phone started ringing. 

Ruby grimaced. “Let’s just say you’d probably better answer that.” 

—

Emma took a deep breath and squared her shoulders before knocking firmly on the door of a large, sprawling house on the edge of town. It swung open immediately to reveal a man wearing a frantic expression, his dark hair standing up on end. 

“Oh, thank God!” he cried, falling to his knees. “Thank God.” The dog at the end of the leash Emma had looped around her hand wriggled in delight as he licked the man’s face. The man hugged the dog tightly, laughing as his cheeks was thoroughly washed. “How’d you find him?” he asked. 

Emma watched the reunion with a reluctant smile. “I had a tip,” she replied wryly. “Someone spotted him in the street and managed to grab him. They let the sheriff’s department know, and we cross-checked his description with reports of missing dogs.” Or at least that’s what she would have done had the dog actually been missing, and not lured into the backseat of a car by Ruby armed with a juicy steak. The dog had spent the morning in the storage room of the diner, gnawing happily at the bone for an hour before taking a long nap on a cosy blanket. And now he was home again, unharmed and with a belly full of steak. All in all not a bad morning for him, Emma reflected, though she felt sorry for his owner. 

The owner who was now rising to his feet and eyeing Emma with the eye of a man who, reassured of his beloved pet’s safety, could turn his attention to other matters. 

“I’m August,” he said, offering his hand. “August Booth.” 

Emma knew this of course, because Ruby had told her, but she took his hand anyway. “Emma Swan.” 

“Emma,” August repeated. “I’ve seen you around, obviously, but—well it’s nice to finally meet you. Can I offer you a drink or anything?” 

She shook her head. “Thanks, but no. I’m on duty and I really should get back to it.” 

“Of course.” He gave her a hopeful smile, as the dog bounced cheerfully at his side. “Another time, maybe?” 

“Ah, maybe.” Emma’s own smile was noncommittal. “Have a nice day.” 

“You too. Emma.” 

__

Emma got home that evening to find Henry with a huge grin on his face and an A on his solar system project. 

“Look, Mom!” he cried, waving the paper at her. “Mr Johnson said it was one of the best projects he’s ever seen!” 

“Wow, that’s great, Henry!” Emma took the paper and examined it with a beam of pride. “Well done!” 

“I can’t wait to tell Killian.’ Henry was bouncing on his heels. “Can we call him? Maybe he can come over again!” 

“Um, it’s a bit late to invite him over now,” Emma hedged. The truth was that she’d been looking for an excuse to text Killian since he’d left her place on Tuesday night, but was also not sure he’d want her bothering him. “But you can tell him tomorrow.” 

“Is he coming over tomorrow?” 

“Um, yeah. We’re going out.” 

“Out?” Henry’s eyes went wide. “Like on a date?” 

“Yeah. Is that okay?” 

“Mom, you don’t need to ask me if you want to date someone. It’s your life.” 

Emma shook her head, lips pressing together in a bittersweet smile. Sometimes her little baby boy seemed so grown up. It had been happening more and more often lately and though she loved to see it, it also gave her an aching twinge in her heart. 

“But you’re the most important thing in my life,” she said firmly, “and I’m not going to date someone you don’t like.” 

“Well, I like Killian. So as far as I’m concerned, date away.” 

She laughed, and pulled him into a hug. “So you can wait until tomorrow to tell him about your project?” 

Henry heaved a great sigh, though his eyes were laughing. “I suppose.” 

—

Henry may have been able to wait, but Emma found she couldn’t. Barely two hours later, after they’d eaten dinner and Henry had settled down to do his homework, Emma found her fingers typing out a text to Killian without her permission, and sending it before her brain had a chance to object. 

Emma: Henry got an A on his solar system project. 

She held her breath after she clicked send, nerves fluttering in her belly. But it was barely a minute before three dots appeared below her message and then Killian’s reply. 

Killian: That’s brilliant! Tell him I said well done. 

Emma heaved a breath and felt her lips curve in a silly grin. I think he’d rather tell you himself, she texted back. I was just too excited to wait. 

The reply came almost immediately. Your secret is safe with me, love, it said. I’ll pretend it’s the first I’m hearing of the news. 

The silly smile was still on Emma’s face as she tried to think of a way to extend the conversation. Before she could come up with anything the three dots appeared again followed shortly by a message. 

Killian: How was your day, Swan? Any exciting crime on the mean streets of Storybrooke?

Emma’s cheeks began to hurt as her grin widened further, and she settled in to regale Killian with the story of the dog, minus a few key details of course. When she finished he told her about a frustrating patron he’d had, who was looking for a very particular book but could not remember its title or author, or in fact any details about its plot or characters. All he could recall was that it had red on its cover. 

Which, as I’m sure you can imagine, did not much narrow things down, Killian remarked. 

The conversation drifted then onto other topics, flowing so easily that before Emma knew it they had been texting for three hours. When she finally got to bed that night—an hour later than usual—she drifted off with a smile still on her face, thinking of him and of their date the next day. 

—

Wear something warm, Killian had said, and so late on Friday afternoon Emma changed out of the thin blouse she’d worn all day and into a sweater. A new sweater, one she’d bought on an impromptu trip to the boutique that morning. It would be winter soon, she’d reasoned, and she could always use another warm layer. It was definitely not because the sweater was a pretty shade of rose pink that complimented her complexion and made her feel soft and feminine, or because its slim fit hugged her breasts in a very flattering way. 

Not at all. 

She finished the look with dark jeans and a brown leather jacket with a sheepskin trim and headed out into the living room, ten minutes early. 

Henry was watching TV but when she came into the room he looked up and his eyes widened. “You look awesome, Mom!” he said. 

“Thanks, kid.” Emma rubbed her damp palms on her jeans. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so nervous. “Are you sure you’re okay with staying here by yourself?” she asked Henry, who rolled his eyes. 

“Yes, I’m sure,” he said. “I have your number and Killian’s number and the hospital’s number and Mary Margaret’s number. Mary Margaret is just upstairs if I need her and she’ll come in to check on me at bedtime and make sure I’m not throwing any wild parties.” He gave Emma a sardonic look and she couldn’t suppress a chuckle. “Dinner’s in the fridge,” Henry continued, “I’m supposed to do my homework so it’s done for the weekend then I can play video games, and you’ll be home by midnight. Did I forget anything?” 

She put her hands on her hips and shook her head at him. “No, I think that covers it.” 

He got up from the couch and gave her a hug. “I’ll be okay, Mom,” he said reassuringly. “It’s just for a few hours.” 

Emma nodded, squeezing him tightly. “I know.” He was still her baby, though, and it was a mother’s prerogative to worry. 

Henry seemed to sense her mood because he gave her a cheeky grin. “Be sure you’re home on time, though, or else I might turn into a pumpkin,” he teased.  

She laughed. “I promise.” 

Just then the doorbell rang, sending Emma’s heartbeat into overdrive. She took a deep breath and then another as she smoothed her hair and adjusted her clothes. Henry smirked at her and went to open the door. “Hey, Killian!” he greeted. 

“Hello, Henry,” Killian replied, and God, Emma thought, his voice was even sexier than she remembered. “How are you?” 

“Good,” said Henry brightly. “I got an A on my solar system project!” 

“That’s brilliant, lad!” said Killian, catching Emma’s eye and giving her a wink. Probably the least stealthy wink she’d ever seen, more of a full-face twitch. 

Fortunately, Henry was too busy grinning with delight to notice. “Thanks for helping me,” he said.  

“It was my pleasure.” Killian smiled at Henry but his eyes kept flitting to where Emma was standing behind him, hands clasped and trying not to twist them nervously. “Swan,” he said, transferring his smile to her. “You look lovely.” 

“Thanks.” Emma flushed at the compliment and searched for the right words to return it. Killian was dressed in a sweater as well, a thick fisherman’s one in a deep blue shade that brought out his eyes. “You look...” Hot. Gorgeous. Highly fuckab—gah. No. She shook that thought from her head. “…um…” 

He shot her a small smirk, one that said he knew what she was thinking, even as his cheeks went pink. “I know,” he said.  

She rolled her eyes. Of course he did. 

They stood grinning foolishly at each other until Henry gave a loud cough. 

“Ah.” Killian scratched behind his ear, the flush in his cheeks deepening. “Are you ready then, love?” he asked. 

She nodded. “Yeah, I think so. Henry, are you—” 

“Mom.” Henry gave her a stern look. “I’m fine. Go.” 

“All right, all right,” she sighed. “I’m going.” 

She allowed Killian to guide her out the door and down the stairs with a hand hovering just over the small of her back. From another man such a gesture would have felt controlling but from him it just seemed sweet—old-fashioned, like the way he spoke and the general air of courteousness he carried.  

“Where are we going?” she asked, when they exited her building and turned down the sidewalk. 

He smiled, soft and a bit nervous. “You’ll see.” 

They chatted lightly as they walked, conversation made easier by all they had shared in the texting marathon of the previous evening, and when they arrived at the docks a good twenty minutes later Emma felt as though no time had passed at all. 

“What are we doing here?” she asked, looking around in confusion. 

“Come with me.” He held out his hand and she took it without hesitation. Briefly she wondered at how easily she trusted this man she hardly knew, she who almost never trusted anyone, and then he led her up a gangplank and onto a long wooden sailing boat and she forgot everything else in her astonishment. 

“This is yours?” she exclaimed.

“Aye,” said Killian with a small shrug. “You can take the lad off the sea but you can’t take the sea out of the lad. Or something.” 

Emma laughed. “You bought this after you left the navy?” 

“I did,” he replied. “Lived on board for a few months. I was going to stay on her while I was in Storybrooke but Belle said that was ridiculous when there was an empty apartment above the library, so…” 

“Yeah. And doesn’t it get cold at night? On the boat I mean.” 

“I have blankets. And rum.” He waggled his eyebrows at her and she laughed. “But yes, the apartment is much more congenial as a place to sleep, so I’m grateful for it.” 

On the boat’s deck a blanket was spread out, with a pile of cushions on one side and a small camp stove on the other. “I thought we could make grilled cheese,” Killian explained. “Henry, ah, told me it was your favourite. And everything tastes better under the stars.” 

Emma felt a lump rising in her throat. “There—there aren’t any stars,” she said. 

Killian smiled at her. “Not yet.” 

She made herself comfortable on the blanket while Killian produced a leather satchel, from which he removed plates and napkins, bread and butter, and a dizzying array of cheeses. 

Emma gaped as he lined them up in front of the stove. “I usually just use the kind that comes in pre-wrapped slices,” she said. 

“Aye, I have some of that.” he replied, holding up a small, square parcel. “Though I thought, maybe, if you were in the mood for it, that you, ah—might be up for trying something new?” 

His expression was so hopeful, so open, and she knew that he wasn’t just talking about the cheese. He meant the way she’d been living, closed-off and untrusting. Alone. He was asking her to let him in, and God, Emma thought, she wanted to. 

“I—yeah.” She swallowed hard, but the smile she gave him was genuine. “I’d like that. But, I’m gonna be honest here, I have no idea which one.” 

Killian laughed, a deep, rich sound that warmed her inside and out. “Try the gouda,” he advised. 

“I don’t even know what that is,” she said, laughing with him. 

The warm smile remained on his lips but there was something deeply solemn in his eyes. “Do you trust me?” he asked. 

Emma swallowed again. “Yeah,” she replied, and it was true. She really did. 

Killian nodded. “Gouda,” he said firmly. 

She nodded back. “Okay.” 

—

The gouda turned out to be delicious, melting into the kind of stringy, gloopy mess that had Emma’s eyes rolling back in her head with delight. Its flavour was mild, almost nutty, and absolutely delicious—way better, she was sure, than the soft, smelly stuff Killian put on his bread. 

“This is amazing,” she said around a mouthful of melted cheese. “That, on the other hand…” 

He chuckled. “It’s an acquired taste.” 

“I’m sure. So... why exactly did you acquire it?” 

An odd look crossed Killian’s face. “Sometimes you eat what’s put in front of you, love, and learn to like it later,” he said, in a voice grim with not entirely pleasant memories. “I’ve been in places where to refuse the food would be a grave insult, and a grave insult could result in... well, let’s just call them unpleasant consequences.” 

“Wow.” 

He gave shrug and an offhand smile. “I mean, not to be dramatic or anything.” 

“Oh no, obviously not.” She munched her cheese, trying to think of a lighter topic. “So, um, what made you become a librarian? No offence but you don’t really seem the type.” 

“No, probably not.” His smile warmed and softened and Emma felt herself relax. “I wanted a quiet life after the navy and I’ve always loved books, so it seemed like a natural choice.” 

“Yeah, I guess I can see that.” 

“It’s been healing,” he said softly. “In more ways than one.” He was silent for a moment, then turned to her with a quirked eyebrow. “And what about you, Emma, what brought you into law enforcement?” he asked. 

“What don’t I seem like the type?” 

“On the contrary, it seems a perfect fit for you. I’d just—like to know you better.” 

Emma felt a flush rise in her cheeks as her heartbeat quickened. “I was in bail bonds before I came to Storybrooke, but there’s not much need for that here so I sort of fell into sheriffing,” she explained. “I didn’t even intend to move here, I was just passing through. But I had car trouble and got stuck for a while, then the job opened up and I just—stayed.” 

“It’s a good place to stay,” Killian remarked. 

“Yeah. Way better than where we were living in the city. Henry was really little when we moved and I’m glad he’s growing up in a place like this.” 

“Aye, it seems an ideal spot to raise a child.” 

There was a wistfulness in his voice that made her heart thump harder. “I just realised I never asked you where you live,” she said. 

“Ah.” He scratched behind his ear again. “That is a question. I’ve been in Boston for the past few years but I’m starting to think I need a change. One of the reasons I was glad for this break in Storybrooke.” 

Emma focused on keeping her breathing steady. “Where do you think you might go?” she asked. 

“I might”—he shot her a mildly wary glance—“stay here.” 

“Here? As in Storybrooke here?” 

“Aye. There’s a job opening up next year at the high school library that I’ve applied for.” 

“I—” She blinked in surprise. “Wow.” 

“I hope it doesn’t freak you out, love,” said Killian, stumbling over his words in his haste to speak them. “It wasn’t because of—well, it isn’t as though you aren’t a factor, but mostly I just—” 

“You could see a future here.” Emma nodded. “Hey, I get it. Same.” 

He visibly relaxed, expelling a long breath before continuing. “I actually put in the application before we met,” he explained. “About fifteen minutes before, in fact. But I’d be lying if I said the prospect of staying here didn’t grow considerably brighter when I realised there was a chance you could be part of that future.” His eyes widened when he realised what he’d said. “I mean, I—” 

“Yeah.” Emma reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze. “I know what you mean.” 

Dusk had fallen by that time, and the stars were beginning to appear in the sky. Killian quickly tidied up the plates and utensils and cheese, then produced from his seemingly bottomless satchel a thermos full of hot chocolate. 

“Mmmm,” said Emma, “that smells amazing. Though I usually have mine with some—”

“Cinnamon?” Killian grinned at her as he held up a small jar of the spice. “Aye.” 

“Henry told you,” guessed Emma. 

“That he did.” 

“When did you have time to mine my son for information about me?” she teased him. 

“We had some quite interesting conversation in between discussions of moons and planets,” he informed her. “It’s a truly wonderful boy you have, love.” 

“Yeah,” she agreed, accepting the steaming cup he offered her. “He really is.” 

Cradling their cups of chocolate, they relaxed back against the pillows and gazed up at the darkening sky. As the stars grew brighter Killian showed her some constellations, pointing to them with one hand while the other lay next to hers on the blanket, close enough that she could brush his little finger with her own. She slid her hand closer and let her fingers curl around his, and when he turned his hand to grip hers more firmly she relaxed against him, resting her head on his shoulder as they sipped their chocolate, looked up at the sky, and talked. They talked about everything, likes and dislikes, pastimes and pet hates. Their childhoods and their dreams for the future, their hopes and their fears. She told him, haltingly, about Neal, and he replied with the story of his affair with a married woman, which had led to him leaving the navy. For two such different people they had a surprising amount in common, she realised. Not so much in the specifics of their lives as in the way they looked at the world, and the experiences that had shaped them. Emma had never in her life felt so understood. 

All too soon her phone buzzed in her pocket, reminding her that it was almost midnight and she had promised Henry she’d be back before then. 

“I have to go,” she said apologetically. “Henry—” 

“Of course,” he replied. “I’ll walk with you.” 

He kept her hand in his as they stood and headed back to her apartment, twining his fingers with hers and brushing his thumb feather-light across her knuckles, setting her heart racing in her chest. His hand was warm and rough and the gentle movements of his thumb sent sparks dancing up her arm and all across her skin. 

When they reached her door she turned with a smile, still holding tight to his fingers, loath to break the contact until she absolutely had to. 

“I had a wonderful time,” she said. “We should do this again.” 

His own smile lit his face, stealing her breath as it always did. “Any time, love,” he murmured. “Perhaps next time we can go for a sail.” 

“I’d love that.” 

His eyes were soft as they caressed her face and she found herself holding her breath as they swayed in each other’s orbit, easing closer and closer, and then closer still until she felt his fingertips brushing across her cheek, until he cradled her jaw in his palm and their lips met. 

The kiss began gently, tentatively—sweet brushes of lips and sighs of breaths that soon grew deeper, hotter, more insistent as the hands they still held gripped tighter, as his fingers left her cheek to tangle in her hair and hers fisted in his sweater to pull him closer. A deep groan rumbled in his chest and Emma felt herself pushed back against the door, his lips insistent now, his tongue hot in her mouth and his body firm against hers. She released his sweater to curl her arm around his neck and hold him tight, pressing herself as close as she could get, rolling her hips over the hardness she could feel low against her belly. 

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this way, if she ever had. Like she couldn’t get enough of him—his feel and smell and taste—like she wanted to tear off his clothes and have him right here, and damn the consequences. But also she felt safe, secure in the certainty that while he clearly wanted her just as much, once the kiss ended he would say goodnight and go, no pressure, no demands, no resentment. She was certain of this because she trusted him, and the inherent decency she’d sensed in him from the beginning.  That kind of trust was freeing, she realised in a bright and stunning flash of understanding. Wonderfully freeing, to let down her defences and put herself into the hands of another person, knowing he wouldn’t take advantage or use that trust to hurt her. Her heart soared as she hugged Killian tighter and kissed him with everything she had, and when the kiss finally ended and he rested his forehead against hers, all she felt was happiness and the stirrings, deep in her heart, of a far stronger emotion. 

“That was—” he gasped, blinking dazed eyes and clearly struggling for words. 

“Amazing?” she supplied. “Incredible? Hot as fuck?”

He gave a breathless chuckle. “One hell of a goodnight kiss. Plus yeah, all those other things.” 

He pressed another kiss on her lips, brief and chaste and gentle, then released her and stepped back. “I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said. 

Emma tried not to feel bereft at the loss of his warmth and closeness. “Maybe you could come over for dinner,” she said. “I mean, if you’re not busy. It’s just Henry would love to see you, and—” 

“I’d love that,” he said, gently interrupting her before her stream of words could get out of control. “Let me know what I can bring. Not brownies this time.” 

His eyes twinkled with amusement and she gave a slight wince. “Was it that obvious?” 

“I hope you won’t take this the wrong way, Emma, but you’re a bit of an open book,” he replied. “One I’d very much like to read more of.” 

“I—I’d like that too,” she said softly. “And my favourite dessert is lemon bars.” 

“Lemon bars I can manage.” He smiled, a bit wistfully but with a new light in his eyes that made her feel like she could fly. “Goodnight, Emma,” he murmured. 

“Night, Killian.” 

She watched him until he disappeared around the bend in the stairs then slipped into her apartment, shutting the door silently behind her and leaning against for a moment. She closed her eyes and ran the tip of her tongue over her lips, then gave herself a little shake and took off her jacket and shoes before padding silently into Henry’s room. He was fast asleep, with the blankets kicked off and bunched around his waist. She pulled them down and tucked them in around him. 

“Mom?” he muttered. 

“Yeah, kid. I’m home,” she whispered. “Go back to sleep.” 

Henry blinked heavy eyelids. “Did you have a good time?” 

“I did. I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow. Go back to sleep.” 

“K,” he replied, and in his next breath she could tell he was asleep again. 

—

The next morning Emma dropped Henry off at a friend’s house and went to Granny’s for some coffee. Ruby greeted her with a scowl. 

“You here alone?” she demanded.

Emma crossed her arms over her chest. “I am.” 

“August another no-go, then?” 

“I have to admit, he was closer than the others,” Emma conceded. “Probably your best attempt yet.” 

“But not good enough?” 

“Nope. Not good enough.” Perhaps once there may have been a time when someone like August would have caught Emma’s eye. Before Neal. Even, possibly, before she’d met Killian. But now...

Ruby planted a fist on her hip and shook her finger at Emma’s nose. “I’ll get you, Emma Swan,” she declared. “Sooner or later, come hell or high water, I will find the man for you. I swear it.” 

“Ruby—” 

“Nope.” The shaking finger became a palm in Emma’s face, which she irritatedly pushed aside. “I know you don’t approve of my tactics,” Ruby continued, “but the gauntlet’s been thrown down. My honour is at stake.” 

“Your honour? Seriously?” 

“Yes, seriously! I’m going to find you a guy or die trying, and that’s just how things are. Now, here’s your coffee.” She thrust a takeaway cup into Emma’s hand and Emma sighed heavily, watching Ruby through narrowed eyes as she handed another cup to another customer, before finally taking a long sip. 

It was a minute before her brain registered the taste of what was in her mouth and then she spit the coffee out with a choking gasp. 

“What the fuck is this?” 

“Coffee,” said Ruby, who was standing ready with a pile of paper napkins. She fluttered her lashes innocently. “Why, is there something wrong with it?”

Just then Emma heard the sound of vigorous coughing and a very familiar voice spoke up from behind her. 

“Excuse me, lass, but I think you may have given me the wrong drink,” it said.

“Oh did I?” cried Ruby. “I am so sorry! What seems to be the problem with it?” 

“Well, it’s, er, very sweet.” 

Emma sighed and turned around to face Killian. His face brightened in surprise and pleasure but she spoke before he could greet her. “I think you must have mine,” she said. “You take it black?” 

“Aye.” 

“Here.” She held out the cup she was holding. “This one’s yours.” 

“Ah. And I suppose that makes this yours.” 

They exchanged cups and smiles, Killian’s bright but confused and Emma’s resigned, especially when their fingers brushed and her heart began to race. 

“Wow,” said Ruby loudly, “what a funny mix-up. You two should definitely get each other’s names, in case it happens again.” 

Killian opened his mouth to reply but Emma gave a tiny shake of her head and he closed it again, his forehead wrinkling with a baffled frown. Emma turned to Ruby. 

“All right,” she hissed. “You win. 

“I—what?” 

“I like this one. I’ll take him. Congratulations, you did it.” 

Ruby looked genuinely nonplussed. “Are you serious?” 

“Yep.” 

“What’s the catch?” 

“No catch.” 

“Well I am a bit of a catch,” piped up Killian, who was watching the exchange with amusement and dawning understanding.

Ruby’s eyes flitted between them, narrowed in suspicion. “Emma Swan,” she growled, “if you’re fucking with me…” 

“I’m not! Honestly. Here, look, I’ll prove it.” 

She set her cup down on the counter and turned back to Killian, watching his eyes go wide and the smirk fall from his face as she grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket and pulled him in for a kiss. Dimly she heard the sound of Ruby’s gasp and of Killian’s coffee cup hitting the floor, but then his arms were around her and he was sighing against her lips and all Emma could think was that what she’d told Ruby just now was true. She did like this one, and she damned well would take him. For the first time in far too long Emma truly and honestly envisioned what her life could be with a man in it, a partner to share it with, and found that the prospect didn’t scare her. She was excited for it. She wanted it. She wanted Killian. 

For all its heat and passion he kiss ended softly, and she smiled up at Killian, still clinging to his jacket, pressing her forehead to his. He grinned back, delighted if slightly dazed. “That was rather forward of you, lass, considering we only just met,” he said, deadpan. “But I can’t say as I object.” 

“Mmmm,” she hummed. “What do you say we take our coffee somewhere quiet and get to know each other a bit better?” 

“I’d say that’s an excellent plan. But as to the coffee, well—” He indicated the steaming puddle at their feet.

“Here you go,” said Ruby, and they both turned to see her holding out a fresh cup. “On the house.” 

Killian shook his head. “Oh, I couldn’t—”

“Look, anyone who gets a kiss like that off Emma is going to need it,” said Ruby firmly. She raised an eyebrow at each of them in turn. “There’s something going on here that I don’t know about, and rest assured I will find out what it is,” she informed them. “But for now take your coffee and go. You two are distractingly hot together and I have other customers.” 

“Well if you’re—” 

“I said go!” Ruby glared until Killian took the cup from her. “Enjoy. Oh, and Emma—” 

“Yeah?” 

“Call me later.” Ruby tapped a sharp-looking fingernail meaningfully on the countertop. “Or else.” 

—

@kmomof4, @stahlop, @spartanguard​, @mariakov81, @teamhook 

[doctorreids]

folklore - spencer reid x reader

CHAPTER THREE - the last great american dynasty 

previous chapter | next chapter 

word count - 1,494

a/n: sorry this is so late and so short! life has been weirdly busy the past week but i’m going to try and get back into writing again, writer’s block is killing me a bit. hope this is ok - i’m honestly not too sure about this chapter :/

“there goes the maddest this town has ever seen, she had a marvellous time ruining everything.”

It had been one week since he walked out of her apartment, the echo of the door closing still reverberating through her home.

She was tired. Work was strenuous, to say the least, Hotch having to avoid pairing the two of them together, they could barely look at one another. Having to explain to your unit chief that the relationship they swore wouldn’t get in the way of work ended bitterly was, to put it simply, embarrassing. Hotch said little, just offered her a sad smile when he noticed how rundown she was and asked if she needed a few personal days.

Both of them refused to take time off.

Morgan had to beg Garcia to not say anything, to either of them, which was easier said than done for her but she watched with despair as her friends slowly became shells of people. Emily and JJ had held her the whole weekend, letting her cry her heart out.

By the end of the week, every member of the team was exhausted by the dark cloud that surrounded them both. So, naturally, Garcia suggested they go out for drinks and invite some of her friends. Surprisingly, she was all for it - all she wanted to do was to drown her sorrows in alcohol. She just wanted to forget.

Forget his touch. Forget his smile. Forget his voice. For just one night.

Emily was worried about her. She watched as her friend got herself ready, copious amounts of concealer to cover up her lack of sleep and the sexiest thing she owned. Emily was pretty sure she hadn’t worn that dress since college, it was evident in the way she kept pulling them down every time she stood up. The large glass of rose that sat on her vanity table was nearly gone by the time she’d finished putting on her makeup and fixing her hair.

Garcia and Emily had to keep a watchful eye over her, both of them only sipping slightly on their Gin and Tonics every once in a while. JJ was busy with Henry and promised she’d join them later. Emily and Garcia both knew it was because Spencer was babysitting Henry that night.

They were torn between them both. JJ and Spencer were inseparable but she had found a close friend in Y/N. Emily and Y/N shared a bond so special not even Morgan and Garcia could match it but she cared for Spencer too - she knew them both too well and it did more than just hurt to see them this pained.

Garcia, on the other hand, was heartbroken with them. Ever terrified of losing her friends, she was worried that one of them would leave the team. As she looked over at Y/N putting on her bravest face, she knew it could be her. She didn’t want to dwell on the possibility that Spencer could leave her too.

Surrounded by her friends, Y/N didn’t feel so lost anymore. She felt grounded for a while like she could tell the forest from the trees. Yet with every glass of wine, she couldn’t help but let her mind drift to the nights where she would sit with a glass of white, him with a whiskey and they would talk. Just talk.

She can’t help but think that she ruined everything - she was too clingy, didn’t give him enough space. She can’t help but recall her college friend’s faces over FaceTime when she told them - they tried to cover it up as much as they could but they looked at her as if she was the maddest woman they’d ever met.

“Flew in all her Bitch Pack friends from the city, filled the pool with champagne and swam with the big names, and blew through the money on boys and the ballet.”

Spencer didn’t like her college friends.

Scratch that. He hated them.

They were obnoxiously loud, careless and the complete opposite of Y/N. But she knew he tried not to judge. He was as kind to them as he was to anyone else, she just knew he disagreed strongly with their idea of a night out.

He pictured going to see a movie, or a nice meal in a nice restaurant.

They pictured bars, shots, and taxis home at 3am.

Maybe that’s why she invited them to join the BAU girls night out - she knew they bothered JJ, Emily, and Penelope but they never said anything. So, she just let it go. Maybe she invited them as some kind of revenge or a chance to drive the knife in a little bit further. Maybe it was none of that - she just needed attention.

Amber and Paige were her roommates in college - they were there for the first boyfriends, breakups, hookups and drunken mistakes. It’s hard to admit that sometimes people grow apart. She wanted to cling onto a sense of normalcy at least. At most, she wanted to let her inhibitions go.

Emily didn’t trust them. They were handing her shot after shot in the club, pulling her over to guys Y/N clearly wasn’t comfortable with talking to let alone flirting with. Amber and Paige were marvelling in her pain - they used it as a joke. She overheard something about Y/N finally breaking up with that nerdy, stuck up workaholic, something about Y/N could do better. Emily had to restrain JJ and Garcia from body slamming them into the bar. Y/N was too tipsy to comprehend their words.

The club was full of people, the flares of the lights bouncing off the corners of the dance floor. The air was humid, sweaty bodies pressed together. JJ, Emily, Penelope, and Y/N felt incredibly out of place - the only time they would ever enter a club was during a case if it called for it, bars were more their style for a girl’s night out. Amber and Paige, however, were in their element.

They acted like the college-aged students that occupied the dance floor and Y/N was immersed in it. Dancing with everyone she could, trying to drown herself and all the memories in them.

She wanted to ruin the good times that were haunting her.

For a while it was fun, blowing her money on shots and dancing into the next day. Then it was just her and Emily. Amber and Paige ditched them just a while ago, left her cold and exposed outside the club. She was used to that by now though.

The only comfort she had was Emily rubbing the small of her back, reminding her she wasn’t as alone as she felt, as they sat in the taxi back to her apartment.

Everything was blurry and slow but she was sure she didn’t want to be alone.

“Can you stay with me tonight?” She asked, like a child crawling into bed with their mother.

“Anything for you.” was the reply.

After that, the journey home is just blurred hues of traffic-lights and dim street lights guiding them home.

“Let’s get you to bed,” Emily said softly, ushering her into her room, helping her step out of her dress and into her pyjamas. She allowed the tears to flow freely for the first time that week.

Emily swallowed the lump in her throat as she looked at her friend.

“I miss him, Em.” she slurred.

“I know you do.”

A calm silence fell over the two women.

“Do you remember that case in Florida? The one with the rituals?

Emily was surprised she could recall this much in her drunken state.

“Yes, why do you ask?”

It all came flooding back to her, a soft breeze on her skin and his arm wrapped around her waist as they stood on the pier.

“That was the first time he told me he loved me.” Her eyes became heavy at the thought of that night.

A sad smile graced Emily’s lips as she watched her closest friend drift to sleep.

“pacing the rocks, and staring out at the midnight sea.”

She can’t recall much of that night but she knows she dreamt about that night in Miami.

Nighttime was the only time when Spencer wasn’t really bothered by his headaches, so they walked hand in hand on that pier; she could feel and see the love he felt for her. She just hoped he could too.

These were the times that she wished she had his eidetic memory. She wants to remember each and every word they spoke. The ones ushered at night, holding each other, skin-on-skin. She wants to remember each glance, the way he would blush when she caught him staring. Some memories are so vivid, some are so dull that they fade to nothingness when she pushes for them.

Yet, her love still burns on. Does his?

[yespolkadotkitty]

If you are taking requests. Reader is a chef that does at home cooking classes. Henry's family hired her to do a private cooking class for Henry's birthday. Henry decides that he needs more classes so books her for the month. Then takes her to Italy to source ingredients and wine.

Sweep Me Off My Feet, pt 1

“Dance, sweetheart?”

You looked up from your after-dinner macchiato to see Henry standing before you, hand out in invitation, his radiant smile showing just a hint of shyness. He cut a fine figure in his linen shirt, open at the neck, no tie. 

Rose-gold street-lights lit the Venetian piazza, casting long shadows and an air of romance over the entire area, cloaking it in mystery.

The two of you had spent a dreamy day together, exploring the picturesque Island of Sant Erasmo. The biggest island in the lagoon, Sant Erasmo was famed for its delicious local produce and its wine. After meeting the local farmers and hearing about their lives and crops, you had enjoyed a private vineyard tour and wine tasting. It had been such a leisurely, beautiful day. You had tamped down your annoyance when dinner time came. You’d wanted your time with Henry to last forever.

Helplessly, you suddenly felt this idyll slipping through your hands, sand through an hourglass.

Too much, too fast.

The anxiety of it all had churned in your stomach all through dinner – a delicious seafood risotto, littered with fat, garlicky prawns and butter-soft scallops, with a side of freshly baked, herbed breadsticks.

“Really?” You asked, nervous. You were an excellent chef but an awful dancer. “Why?”

“Because we can. Everyone else is,” he insisted, a grin tugging at his lips. It occurred to you that you had seldom seen him so carefree. “I do love to dance, you know,” he added, cheekily, and the mischief dancing in his blue eyes drew you in, irresistibly.

You shifted, trying to fight the battle between your wish to dance in Henry’s arms, and your intense discomfort at doing anything that involved co-ordination in public.

Finally the hopeful, boyish look on Henry’s handsome face won you over and you took his hand. His fingers closed around yours; warm, reassuring. He pulled you towards him, spun you around for a second. Giddy, you leaned into him as the string quartet outside the café started to play a gentle waltz. You breathed in the now-familiar scent of him, the tang of coffee and a kiss of woodsmoke and cedar.

“This is absurd.” But you rested your free hand on his broad shoulder just the same, and let him lead you in the steps. Heat radiated off his body through the pale, grey linen shirt he wore, and you looked down at your feet. “When was the first time you waltzed?”

“I Capture the Castle rehearsals. They didn’t use the footage in the end.”

You looked up into his eyes. They looked almost blue-black in the half-light as he met your gaze.  “Shame.”

He laughed softly. “It wasn’t. I was twenty-two, all gangly limbs.”

You’d seen the film. His character, Stephen Colley, was so beautiful in the flush of youth that it had hurt to breathe, looking at his rosy cheeks and lean build. “I sometimes – and it’s ridiculous – forget that you’re so…. Famous,” you breathed as he swayed you gently, confidently.

“Good.” His gaze dropped to your mouth, and that gorgeous tumble of chocolate brown hair fell into his face, a little long, a little messy. The way you liked it - that errant curl that teased his forehead was your favourite. “That’s what I wanted.”

The expression on his arrestingly handsome face – so naked suddenly, not a trace of artifice – made you bold suddenly. Or perhaps it was the alcohol. But you were in Venice with a man who made your heart turn over with joy with your chest. You were dancing a waltz in a piazza. Rose-gold light kissed everything, bathing the city and your heart in a kaleidoscope of fuzzy joy, and just for now, you would be brave. You would believe in magic, and you would believe in happy endings.

And you wouldn’t think further than this beautiful, vibrant, kind, man in your arms. He was solid and real and right now, he was yours.

Tears burned your eyes as your heart constricted. Right now, he’s mine. Yes, you would be brave.

And you would pay whatever cost would be levied later. And it would probably be high, but you suddenly couldn’t care.

“Is that all you want?” You tucked his tumbled hair back behind his ear. It felt so soft. That unruly curl sprang forward.

You’d surprised him. You knew because he held still for a long moment before continuing with the waltz. Someone else might not have noticed the slip, but you did. In some ways, you had never stopped noticing everything about him, ever since the day you’d met.

“Oh, sweetheart. You know what I want.” His words were so soft, they were nearly carried away by the notes floating off the nearby violins. But still you caught them. “You.” He swallowed and you watched the movement of his throat, transfixed for a second. “Any way I can get you. Any way you’ll have me.”

His hand on your waist tightened, pulling you a fraction closer. You pressed your face into his neck, loving the rasp of his stubble against your skin, knowing you had reached a tipping point. 

He wanted to make love to you. 

“Tonight?” Your words came out squeakier than you’d hoped. You wondered if Henry would laugh.

He didn’t.

“Tonight,” he confirmed, his voice dropping half an octave.

You stopped dancing, and he mirrored you . You both held still for a long moment. You closed your eyes, knowing that your decision was about to change everything between you two. Maybe forever.

Breathing in, you opened your eyes again. Henry stood before you still, so solid and real. And yours, for now anyway.

And you would take the now, for as long as it lasted. “Henry.”

“Yes, love?” He brushed his lips over yours, gently, a simple kiss without pressure, but a question all the same. He tasted of bitter black coffee, and of rich, sweet chocolate.

“Take me back to the hotel. Right now.” Before you could lose your nerve.

* * * * *

The rosy streetlights of Venice winked at you both as Henry navigated the maze of little streets. People gathered here and there, but the late hour meant it was mostly quiet. You could smell the salty edge of the lagoon, the heady scent of wine, the richness of chocolate and cream. Snippets of indistinct Italian reached you from far away windows.

Henry paused in a quiet alley to get his bearings. Behind him, the moon shone down on you both, bright and silent, hanging like a lightbulb in the endless black fabric of the night sky.

You slipped your arms around him as he pulled his phone from his pocket, bringing up Google maps. “Hmmmm. I swear it was just the next street along….”

The alley was silent and dark. And really quite nice, as alleys went. Closed shop windows were lined with flower boxes, the wooden containers bursting with campanulas, ivy and heliotrope. Their perfume filled with the air, mingled with Henry’s intoxicating cedar scent. 

You felt…  brave. Bold. Aroused.

“What if we didn’t wait until we found the hotel? “ you asked.

Henry’s gaze shot to yours, his mouth opening slightly in surprise. “Sweetheart, we shouldn’t-”

All the pent up desire you’d felt for this man in the months you’d worked together bursting out of you like a dam breaking. You grabbed the lapels of his button-down shirt - Henry, chic and casual in a linen shirt with no tie and the sleeves rolled to his elbows just about killed you - and pressed your mouth to his.

Dimly, you heard the clunky thud as his phone fell to the street floor, unnoticed. He slid his hands around your waist and pressed you to him, and you thrilled to the evidence of his need for you pressing urgently against your stomach. “Oh my God, Henry,” you murmured, aching already, wet under your pretty dress.

“Are you sure, love?” he bit off against your mouth, and you thought he sounded like a man on the edge of control, his words guttural and raspy. “Be. Sure.”

He pulled back and gazed into your eyes, and you saw something just a tiny bit feral in the blue depths. It made the pulsing need inside you kick up several notches.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

With a low growl in his throat, Henry scooped you up. You scissored your legs around his waist as he ravaged your mouth, the day’s growth of whiskers on his cheeks scraping at you pleasantly. He moved his attention down to your neck and you arched to give him better access. 

Henry moaned your name throatily as you squeezed a hand between your body to cup him through the denim of his worn jeans.

“Want you, now,” you murmured, impatient, your heart hammering. 

Henry deftly leaned you against the brick wall, keeping you held up with one arm whilst he undid the fly of his jeans with the other. You tugged his shirt tails out of the denim, covering him a little, and then you let yourself play.

He fell into your hand, no underwear barrier, hot and heavy and large, better than you’d imagined, all steel in velvet, and you savoured the stuttered, shuddering breath he let out when you palmed him, stroking until you found a rhythm that made him chant your name like a prayer in that gorgeous accent. 

He boosted you up a little higher, easy with his upper body strength, and you used your free hand to pop open the buttons of your shirt dress so he could lavish attention on your breasts. Your nipples peaked at the kiss of balmy breeze of the Venetian night. His tongue was warm and wet and his touch there sent a direct spiral down between your legs.

“Now,” you whispered urgently. You kept one arm around his neck, teasing the hair curling at his collar anchoring yourself as he reached down and toyed with you, working your thin cotton panties aside to feel how wet you were. You knew what he’d find and your heart raced as he groaned against your neck. 

“Baby girl, you’re so wet for me, aren’t you?”

You mewled a response and a hot rush of pleasure filled you as he circled the tight bud at the apex of your body. And the sudden, sharply delicious orgasm made you gasp out loud. You were beyond caring if you were discovered, the pleasure eclipsing any small doubts you had.

Henry brushed a gentle kiss over your mouth before he slid slowly, painfully slowly, inside you. You tilted your hips up just a little, and he pushed right into the hilt.

“Oh, fuck,” he breathed, and the expletive in that cut-glass British accent just destroyed you.

Then he started to move, bottoming out each time he thrust back in, and all coherent thought flew out of your head. His pelvis brushed your clit with each thrust and you bit your lip, trying desperately to be quiet, and only partially succeeding.

It was over quickly, both of you too aroused to last long. Your muscles convulsed around Henry’s cock, and you bit down on the curve where his neck met his shoulder to keep from crying out. Moments later, Henry followed you over the cliff, groaning into your hair, his chest heaving with the effort of being quiet.

You wound down slowly together, floating back to Earth. Henry gently set you back on the ground, frowning.

“I meant to have you in a bed, the first time.”

You grinned, feeling like a goddess, leaning up to kiss him, your body still trembling from the tiny aftershocks of really good sex. “No, but now we can enjoy round two at our leisure in the hotel.”

His delighted laugh echoed into the balmy Venetian night, and you held hands and walked the rest of the way back together.

******

Two months earlier

Your boss called your name and you looked up from the day’s menu to be prepared. Cooking was your calling, no doubt about it, but even working as a sous chef in a five-star hotel could be a drag when the clientele could be so exacting.

“Everything okay?” you asked.

Your boss beckoned you into his office and you crossed the kitchen briskly in your chef’s whites.

The best-looking man you’d ever seen waited in the tiny manager’s office, all dark hair and smouldering blue eyes, broad shoulders and lean hips.

“Mr Cavill, this is the best sous chef I’ve ever had,” your manager began, adding your name.

The stranger held out a hand, a smile tugging at his lips. “I can’t wait to work with you.”

To be continued....

Tagging some folk who may like this: @chamomilebottom (thanks for the gifs!) @brexrif @mary-ann84 @wolvesandhoundshowltogether @hnryycvll @henrythickcavill @henry-cavill-obsessed @ohjule @iloveyouyen @summersong69 @ly--canthrope @the-soot-sprite @littlefreya @dancingwendigo @fishcustardandclintbarton @gardensofwhimsy @wondersofdreaming @dr-kayleigh-dh @mrsaugustwalker @andahugaroundtheneck @pinkzsugar @geralt-of-baevia @radaofrivia @princess-of-riviaa 

[bondsmagii]

Regarding what was lying in mom's bed three months after she had passed.

ARCHIVIST

Statement of Bonnie Jennings, regarding a discovery made in her mother’s bed three months after her mother’s death. Original statement given May 18, 2009. Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London.

Statement begins.

ARCHIVIST (STATEMENT)

Mum and I… we weren’t close. That’s probably an understatement. I suppose the correct word for it is that we were estranged, but that’s always seemed far too gentle for my liking. If I’m being honest, Mum and I hated one another. I know you shouldn’t speak ill of the dead, but my mother was a difficult woman to get along with. She drove everybody away in the end, but not even in the tragic, oh, she can’t help it kind of way. No, she knew exactly what she was doing. She revelled in it, I think. Well, I know she did. I’m not sure what she got out of it, but she liked to… to hurt people, I guess. She got a kick out of it. She was never quick about it, never in-your-face, because that wasn’t fun for her. She was so insidious. She would draw it out, let it take its time, ensure you never had enough to directly confront her about it. She never had a kind word for anyone or anything, and especially not for me. You know, I absolutely hate it, because whenever I mention that my mother and I didn’t talk much people always assume it’s because of well, you know. Somebody like that, you don’t expect them to be accepting of these kinds of things, do you? They always assume I had the classic story of coming out and being booting into the street, but no. That’s just a tragic story that gets parcelled up and delivered out as sad little stories meant to tell everyone how brave we are, and how much we endure, and it always ends with a reconciliation or with us getting back on our feet, stronger for it. Really, that’s not what happens most often. Of course it still does, and I’m not denying that, but I think people need to talk more about the more subtle kind of dismissal we might face. When I told Mum I was trans, all she said was “alright”. That’s it. Just the one word. She didn’t want to know anything more about it, she didn’t want to ask what it meant. She was completely disinterested, but not even in the way that some parents might be – struggling to deal with the fact that they’ve lost a child or whatever crap they come out with. I’m charitable about it – I know it is a shock. I have a lot of trans friends with good relationships with their parents who reported that their parents did need some time just to get used to the idea, but I think that’s normal. When somebody has an idea of you and you tell them they’re wrong, and that you were never that person, it’s a shock. But Mum was so self-centred, so absorbed in her own existence, that she really didn’t care about anything or anyone else. It didn’t matter that her son was actually her daughter. It didn’t centre on her, so who cares? It was infuriating, because on the surface she looked like a model mother. She began using the correct name and pronouns immediately and didn’t slip up once. She advised me on clothing and hair and makeup and gave me beauty tips. She looked so supportive, but really it was just her controlling criticism repackaged. I think, in a sick way, she loved having a daughter. Now she was the expert, as the older woman, and she could boss me around and condescend to me even more. It was an absolute nightmare, but I’m not here to talk smack about my mum – even though I could quite happily do so all day. No, this is about what happened after she was dead and gone. You hear that? Dead. She’s dead, and she’s still causing me problems.

I hadn’t spoken to Mum for over a year when she passed. She never even told me she was sick. None of my business, I guess. It was just Mum and me growing up, and there was no extended family. As I said, Mum drove everyone away in the end. There was absolutely nobody there at all, and that’s why her body rotted in her house for months before anyone found her. She died in the winter, and it was so cold her body basically froze  – she never left the heating on a timer, always turned it on manually so she could have more control over the cost. It wasn’t until the weather started getting warmer that neighbours noticed all the flies on the window, realised they hadn’t seen Mum for a while. They called the police, the police broke in, and they found the putrid mess that used to be my mother. Pretty messed up, right? Somehow I was still her emergency contact, because I guess there was nobody else, and so the police called me and broke the news and I was shocked but not really that upset. I mean, that sounds bad, but she’s been dead to me for some time, you know? Really it was sort of nice to know she was actually dead, because grieving for a living person – especially a person you never really had – is a very complicated business. Now she was dead, I thought I could finally just close that chapter. Of course it’s never that easy.

As her next of kin, I was responsible for her… estate, I suppose. That sounds so grand considering it was just a small semi-detached in rural Lincolnshire, but little though it was, it was mine. She never made a will, as I found out when I expressed surprise she’d left me anything at all. She hadn’t actually bothered, so by default it had all gone to me. I was living in Peterborough at the time, and Mum’s house was only in Spalding, so we didn’t live that far apart at all. It didn’t take long for my then-boyfriend and I to get in the car and head down there to see what all we needed to do. I wasn’t interested in keeping the house for myself, because why would I want it? Not to mention Henry and I had been considering buying a place together – later, when he proposed to me, he confessed he had been planning to pop the question that weekend but then they had to go and find my mother’s corpse, which was kind of funny in a morbid way – so we figured if we could sell the place it might be good money to put towards our own first house. Of course, there was the small matter of trying to sell a house where somebody had died, but I figured it wouldn’t be that hard. It wasn’t a brutal murder or anything like that. If we could clean the place up nicely, I didn’t think it would matter too much.

Well, they hadn’t exactly told us how bad it was going to be. Did you know that the family are in charge of cleaning up a house after a death? I didn’t. I thought that would be something that would be covered, you know? By who I’m not sure, but I didn’t think it would be down to family members to scrub up blood and worse from the carpets or the walls or whatever. I at least thought the police would warn us, and maybe it just slipped their mind, but whatever happened or didn’t happen ended up with Henry and I walking into that house not knowing what to expect at all.

We soon got the idea. The stench was abysmal, even just walking up the garden path. Of course, the body itself had been taken care of, but a body that’s been laying in the house for three months leaves behind a lot of evidence, even if it did spend most of that time mostly frozen. Mum’s bedroom was just… it was a nightmare. Words cannot describe the stretch. Sweet and sticky and sickly; you can taste it more than you can smell it. Cloying. That’s the word that came to my mind. I always thought it was a stupid word, but in that moment I understood exactly what it meant. Cloying. I could feel it in my throat and in my nose, thick and viscous, like having a cold and needing to cough up phlegm. Thank God I hadn’t had anything to eat or I would have thrown up. Poor Henry wasn’t so lucky – though he just about made it to the bathroom. I suppose I’m just morbidly curious, because despite the stench I walked right in there, holding my cardigan over my nose. The covers were pulled right back from the bed and there was this incredible stain on the mattress, almost like a bruise in the way it faded into different colours and shades. Sort of like a bruise meeting a patch of rusted iron, black and deep red and dark purple and then lighter shades of brown and grey, all in the vague outline of a prone body at the darkest parts, spreading out like some messed up halo as it grew lighter. It was absolutely vile, but fascinating in its own way. At the very least, she had done us the favour of dying in the bed rather than on the floor, because the carpet would have been a lost cause. With this, I reckoned we could throw out the bed and everything on it, air the room out, and it would be good as new.

I needed a little fresh air myself, so I opened the windows wide and then went to see if Henry was alright. He was still retching pretty badly, so I snooped around the spare room a bit – nothing much to see, if I’m honest – and then decided to wait for him in the back garden, where I’d be able to take advantage of the breeze. I was sure I could smell that heavy stench clinging to my hair, and do you know for weeks afterwards I still thought I could smell it? It doesn’t come out, no matter how much you wash it. Anyway, I obviously glanced into Mum’s room on my way out, and immediately I saw something was wrong. The covers were all back on her bed.

Now, I know for a fact they weren’t there before, because I saw the big stain on the mattress. Now the covers were back in place, not tucked in or even overly neat, but definitely covering the bed and tossed around like somebody was curled up under them, asleep. Strangely I didn’t feel scared or even very confused. I kind of… stood there for a moment, wondering how I was seeing what I was seeing, and then quite quickly I just accepted that I was seeing it and there was nothing I could do about that, so I decided to check it out. It’s not something I would ordinarily do, I don’t think – I’m curious, but I’m not touch a bed covered in decomposing body juices curious – but for some reason I just walked in there and pulled back the covers. One fluid movement, like a mother trying to get her teenager up for school. I just yanked it back from the top, near the pillows, and then I finally felt the horror that should have come much sooner.

It was… maggots, obviously. They were everywhere, writhing around in a huge pile, twisting their way over the stain and out of the bedsheets and even crawling up my arm, where I was still holding the covers. I screamed and shook my arm frantically, sending maggots flying in all directions, and immediately they began making their way back to the mass on the bed. It was like there was some kind of gravitational pull dragging them back to that pile of wriggling, twitching creatures, and as I watched I became convinced there was some kind of method to their movements. They were arranging themselves, forming into a shape, and I only dragged my eyes away when Henry appeared in the doorway, looking alarmed. I realised then that I’d screamed, and I tried to play it down – in that moment I wasn’t overly surprised, now I’d had a second to think about it, because yeah, of course there are maggots. They like dead bodies, right? I guessed that after the body was removed there were probably a ton of them in the mattress itself that had wriggled up in search of food, though thinking about it again, I didn’t recall seeing any holes in the cover sheet or anything. I tried to calm down, but something drew my eyes back to the maggots – I think it was the way Henry was just staring at the bed, horrified in a way I’ve never seen before – and I saw that the maggots had… how do I even describe this?

They had sat up. They were sitting, and they were in the vague shape of a person. I could see a head, shoulders, the arms limply by the sides. There was a torso that joined on to the bend of hips and legs stretched out in front, over the bed, the feet disappearing into the covers that were still left. I could see the slight rise in the covers where the feet were. The maggots were still moving around, so the shape was constantly shifting, but I could distinctly see details beginning to emerge. Hair. The sunken pits where eyes should be. A gaping mouth that was opening and closing, a black void behind it, as though the figure was trying to say something. And it was. I could hear this strange voice, like an exhale of air, a voice that was barely there at all – but I knew it was saying my name. Bonnie. Bonnie. I could hear it as clearly as anything. In that moment, it was the loudest thing in the room.

I stumbled backwards, but it was as far as I could go. I was frozen, even as I watched the figure swing itself out of bed and get to unsteady feet. It stumbled towards me like a drunk, wheezing deep in its throat, and I thought it sounded like a laugh. I’m not even saying that with hindsight – it was laughing at me. It was my mother’s laugh, and in that moment I knew she was doing this. I mean, I don’t know if she was, because how could she? But in that moment I thought I knew she was doing it, anyway, and I was so angry at her. I was so damn mad at her, for dying in such a horrible way and leaving me with the mess, for all the stuff she’d pulled on me growing up, for every single thing she had done to me, the big things and the petty things, and now this! She couldn’t even die properly, she had to come back and terrify me and traumatise me and ruin everything! I screamed again, but this time it was just pure, animalistic rage – I’ve never heard myself make such a sound. I looked around and I saw the chair sitting in front of the mirror and I picked it up by the back and chucked it into the air, catching it by the back legs and swinging it at the maggot figure with everything I had. I don’t even know what good I thought it would do, because it was just maggots, but the figure disintegrated around the torso and the maggots scattered to the floor. The figure half-collapsed, just a pair of legs wobbling towards me, and I let out this manic laugh before I saw the maggots were already regrouping. Finally I gathered some of my senses and I turned for the door, yelling at Henry to run. He didn’t need telling twice. We both sprinted down the hall and I think we both jumped clean down the entire set of stairs – or it at least felt like that. We ran out into the street and I pulled my cardigan off and started jumping on it, because I was sure I could feel all those maggots crawling on me. Henry finally grabbed me and pulled me away, and we got into the car and drove off. Left the cardigan right there on the street.

We didn’t really discuss what had happened. I hired a cleaning company that specialised in that kind of clean-up, and they never reported any problems. The house was cleaned up good as new, aired out, all Mum’s stuff either sold or thrown away. Eventually the house sold too, even if it did take a little longer than I’d like. Henry and I got married, managed to buy our first house, and while we’ve mentioned it vaguely a few times we’ve still not really talked about it. I think we both probably mutually agreed that we must have been seeing things, and to be honest I let myself believe that for a while. I mean, there’s no way, right? But recently it’s just been bugging me, and I’ve been dreaming about it. It’s just been on my mind, and I can’t pretend that I didn’t see what I saw any longer. I don’t know if this will be of any use to you, or even if it’s the kind of thing that you go in for, but I thought I would write it down nevertheless. I do feel a little better now, weirdly. I thought reliving it all would make me feel worse, but I’m not going to complain.

ARCHIVIST

Statement ends.

Well. That certainly makes me wish I hadn’t eaten lunch before recording. It all seems mostly standard up until the sentient maggot hivemind, and if it had just been Mrs Jennings present I would say it’s possible she might have been mistaken. It’s a fairly specific thing to see, but given the circumstances and the inherent revulsion most people experience when seeing that many maggots at once, I wouldn’t be entirely surprised if the stress of the situation resulted in Mrs Jennings believing she saw something unusual. There is, however, one more thing included with this statement – a brief affirmation from Mr Jennings, which, while he chose not to go into detail, does affirm that everything in Mrs Jennings’ statement is true to what he himself witnessed. Of course, he wasn’t present with his wife for the entirety of the time period the statement covers, but he was there at the most important part. One person having such a highly specific hallucination would be a stretch, but two people experiencing the exact same highly specific hallucination is even less likely.

Tim contacted the current residents of the house that used to belong to Mrs Jennings’ mother, but they reported nothing at all unusual in the time they had been living there. They were aware of the fact a death had occurred in the house – just as well, really, as Tim was quite happy to tell them about it – but didn’t seem overly bothered. In fact, Tim reported that they seemed almost disappointed that the house hadn’t come with a resident ghost, though looking at Mrs Jennings’ description of her mother, I’m not entirely sure that’s the kind of ghost they would want to have to house share with.

Tim also managed to get in contact with John Atchieson, owner and operator of Atchieson Cleaning Solutions, a company based in Peterborough that, alongside general domestic and commercial cleaning jobs, also specialises in cleaning up biohazardous materials – crime scenes, accident scenes, natural deaths. The case of Mrs Jennings’ mother was found in their records, and Mr Atchieson could remember nothing unusual about it. In a rare stroke of luck, the employee assigned to oversee the clean up at the house was Mr Atchieson’s son, also named John; Mr Atchieson Senior was able to contact him and ask if he remembered anything specific from the site himself, but apparently there was nothing remarkable about the job at all – just a standard decomposition job, hauling away the hazardous materials and cleaning the room with heavy chemicals to try to get rid of the smell. Mr Atchieson Junior helped remove the mattress himself, and reported no maggots of any kind.

Given the lack of physical evidence I would like to claim that there is no basis to this statement, but considering the fact there are two witnesses and this wouldn’t be the first time that a being apparently made of some kind of larvae or insect has been observed wandering about, I’m more inclined to worry about where Mrs Jennings’ mother may have gone, if she was no longer in her bedroom.

End recording.

[daretosnoop]

If Dylan Carter continued to work with Nancy after TMB: A Series (can be taken as both platonic and romantic)

A lot of y’all have been waiting for this!

DED:

- okay so how Dylan would even accompany Nancy is probably through him ending his “touring” career. It didn’t work out seeing as he had to resort to fake credentials and working in the black market, probably to earn a living. Nancy’s like bro, you need a career change and Dylan’s like you’re right, imma go with you now.

- when he learns of the case, he mentions show it seems like a standard detective case but is in a little awe of Nancy, I mean you can’t call yourself an amateur and then get hired to investigate a murder. But Dylan is clever, he knows somethings odd about hiring an amateur to investigates murder.

- has no knowledge in physics and electricity but learns quickly. The game you have to play in the beginning to get the switchboard to light up, Dylan quickly grasps how to do it quickly and is able to do it again for when Mason gets trapped

- when he sees Nico’s room:

There are some nifty things in this room. Too bad he gave up the black market life

Nancy: you weren’t even in it to begin

- Is outraged at seeing the candy locked behind a memory game. Sudden determination at getting all the candy out. I get the feeling he would be pretty good at the game leaving Nancy feeling pissed off because she’s not as good.

- Grey and Mason bot find him annoying. Ellie does too but she tolerates him. Only gets along well with Ryan cause he gives her the candy.

- does not understand why all the suspicion is placed on Ryan, especially when we see all the video footage of practically everyone going in and out of the lab.

Dylan: so we’re just going to assume Ryan did it because she went into the lab? That’s hardly conclusive evidence Nance.

- takes the morning shift, Dylan is not a night owl

- is able to get more out of Ryan in less time because they get along pretty well. No Nancy bumbling about. Does a pretty good job at keeping up appearances of being a representative from a potential investor. Probably teaches Nancy to be more in character

Dylan: Look in the mirror Nance.The only person you should see is Nancy Drew, employee of XYZ corporate. Let that persona invelop you. Repeat after me, “I am Nancy, the representative. I am Nancy the representative. I have no interest in murder”

- loves playing the arcade game. Beats Mason’s score but what Mason finds irritating is the Names Dylan uses. They range from silly to inappropriate to straight up insulting Mason.

- when Nancy gets trapped in the chemical room.

Dylan: okay okay. Let’s just stay calm. No need to panic. DONT PANIC NANCE.

He panics. Mutters “shitshitshit” the whole time as he follows her instructions to escape. If romantic, good opertunity to drop his facade and show a raw emotion to Nancy. I feel that Dylan wears a lot of masks and having Nancy uncover them is a nice way to go about expanding their relationship.

- gets really upset with Ellie’s meh attitude to them almost dying.

Dylan: No wonder Nico freaking died. These people could care less. Why do we even have a security guard when the real killer is on the inside?

- whistles when he sees the Tesla coil in action. 100% uses electricity puns.

- sings to himself in the shower

- has mastered this ability to be real chill and get people to drop their guard around him, which is how he extracts info out of them. Nancy finds this hot but also wishes she had this skill. #nofilterNancd

- doodles on Mason’s whiteboard and signs it with the names he uses in the arcade games. Mason gets super annoyed but Dylan always laughs at how Mason takes the time to respond to Henry’s doodles instead of erasing them.

- okay side plot, but there is some fun potential at a Dylan/Mason enemies to lovers story here.

- I feel Dylan has this knack for picking up skills really quickly. He’s never been in a chemist/physicist lab but he figures out how to do things like the players.

-probably shocks himself a few times

-whistles “it’s a small world” in the elevator.

- finds it really cool hot when Nancy goes stealthy to get finger prints.

- end game is similar to the original but with the added addition that as Nancy’s working through the final puzzle, you hear Dylan in the background freaking out about not being ready to die yet. But he doesn’t just stand there. He helps Nancy because he remembers what all the cells stand for which helps Nancy immensely.

[ruby-whistler]

Srry but i noticed in one of ur dream posts u Referred to tommy's cat as hope. I must correct u, that cat was born pussbou and died pussboi. /lh Also tommy killing that cat was nothing compared to dream killing mushroom henry in exile btw just wanna say Also for ur posts about dreams trauma or wilbur manipulating him can u provide links to vods or other proof? Srry if i seem rude i mean that in a "genuinely curious way"

Aaa sorry if my ask came off as rude im just genuinely curious :(((

hi! dw, you don't seem rude at all, and i'm extremely happy someone with a different perspective has found my blog! i really appreciate that sort of attitude and am happy to answer :]

/dsmp /rp

the cat was called pussboy by tommy, but dream only called it "the cat" and then said that "it was hope", which is why it sort of became a symbol (his hope is dead, basically) - that's why i kind of made its name capitalized, because it was more of a metaphor than anything.

most c!dream fans call the cat hope because it's just really nice and really symbolic, and also really sad when you think about it. that's why the name was used in the essay, just to clear up the confusion!

tommy killing that cat was nothing compared to dream killing mushroom henry in exile

i don't really think so? mooshroom henry was entertainment more than anything, and even if it was bad, when watching the stream i don't remember seeing him mourn that much - on the other hand, dream was very quickly and very obviously attached to the cat, with it being his only companion in months of isolation, along with the hope that even when tommy left it would keep him company.

keep in mind c!dream has been deprived of stimuli and human contact for so long it's officially classified as psychological torture at that point.

i don't mean to compare trauma or even compare deaths - because honestly, what c!dream and c!tommy have gone through individually is incomparable and i think neither should be diminished in favor of the other since they're both terrible situations.

that's why i disagree that it "was nothing compared to" - it had an obvious effect on c!dream, and was still c!tommy killing an animal specifically to hurt him, no matter what reasons he had.

when i'm talking about effects people's actions have had on c!dream, i'm not talking about those people. i'm talking about him. :) /lh

as for the trauma, a lot of people agree that a lot of the things he says or does are trauma responses, and hence it's very possible that he's had trauma before he went into prison!

this includes being repeatedly called a tyrant via propaganda by about half of your friends who decided to betray you, trying to keep peace and being pushed deeper into villainy instead, repeatedly being put in between a rock and a hard place in order to make sure the people you care about don't start killing each other, then being betrayed by your closest friends after merely trying to keep peace (sapnap & george) and just in general having no control over your life or image and grasping at straws to gain it back.

i know a lot of people with trauma who heavily relate to certain trauma responses, which aren't always just shaky breaths and flashbacks, but trauma often also manifests itself in extremely ugly and destructive ways, both inwardly and outwardly.

trying to control the people around you is also very often a response to going through trauma, as well as emotional repression which is... rather evident on c!dream during season two. it only seems to get worse with repeated abandonment.

in the end, during the vault scene, the way he acts really just isn't at all the way a healthy person would act, and a lot of his really bad mindsets come from the way he was taught by the world around him.

the character is very reserved however, and since we don't have his pov we can't really say for certain - a lot of people claim it in good faith because they have a lot of evidence for it, and i think they're certainly valid in that.

that is just before the prison, however. from what happened during the prison arc? there is no denying he's traumatized at this point.

he's been emotionally and physically abused by c!sam since the very beginning of being imprisoned, and being in solitary confinement for over two weeks is generally considered psychological (and maybe also physical?) torture. that alone shows up in a lot of symptoms of his mental deterioration while in pandora's during people's visits, and quackity's "sessions" just absolutely drove the point home.

what he's gone through during this arc is absolutely incomparable to anything others charactes have faced before, and it's just plain suffering being endured by someone who is, despite everything, still a human being.

as for the wilbur manipulation thing!! it's talking about the whole vassal scene (though even beforehand a lot of their interactions are pretty iffy), and here's a post about that :]

I also have a small question about the analysis u last reblogged cus it says "why dream needed lmanburg gone rightfully" and like. The house analogy is poor because for one cus the land is infinite. And 2 cus punz's yard was literally larger then lmanburg. And also stuff about dream being a mediator? Can u provide examples?

i wouldn't say it was poor. dream's said a lot of times that he didn't care in the slightest about the land - a lot of his problems with l'manberg arose with the fact that wilbur basically built it on lies and tried to disallow half of the server to come there. c!dream was mad about the division and the fact that wilbur wanted "freedom" to have authority in his lands - over others, as can be seen in this post also.

the table analogy was fitting not because dream was some overlord, but because these were literally friends he invited to hang out and live in a place he wanted to call home. claiming a part of it for yourself and saying people of a certain nationality can't come in is directly opposing those goals.

in the early days of the smp, dream's always been a mediator between his friends - sapnap and george, who would often get into fights and go around killing each other! he would always do his best to stop the conflict, which continued after tommy joined when he took him to court and then later tried to mediate conflicts he was a part of, which resulted in tommy killing him unprovoked, stealing his gear, and starting the disc wars when dream was trying to get his stuff back. later, during pogtopia, he is also most concerned with peace over everything, and this seems to continue indefinitely after.

Today i was thinking about how messed up the final control room was. Like. Dream arranged the betrayal and punz and sapnap killed tommy and tubbo who like. Were literal children and their pals (because the author, wilbur soot, is dead/j but srsly if u take the streamers words tommy said he was 9 during the revolution sooo)

Sorry im gonna ramble about how dumb canon ages are for a second cus like. Streamers can say the characters are one way or another (wilbur saying he is mentally 30-something, etc.) But in the end the characters act like they(or at least their streaming personas) do.

i... honestly don't find it that bad? they were in a war, and the final control room was basically just supposed to end it quicker. the l'manbergians made it clear they were going to fight to the death, so they really left c!dream no other choice. and it's not like he didn't give them chances to give up.

also yeah the 9 year old thing was retconned, because in that case c!dream would've been 14 and i don't think that's true.

c!tommy and c!dream were both young and once again, in a war. the final control room was an attempt to assure victory, which both sides would've taken if possible, but only c!dream saw he had the option.

i do agree the whole child soldier thing was bad but... complain about that to c!wilbur, methinks. he talked naive kids into fighting for his personal power. however, the age argument isn't really valid either way. they had enough agency to sign up for it, and whether or not c!wilbur pushing the intense nationalism onto them had something to do with that is another debate entirely.

Bacl to final control room cus like??? Also fun fact punz took 2 of wilbur's canon lives. And like that probably is what started wilbur's paranoia which later lead to his spiral and i. Many thoughts full of lmanburg today.

i'm pretty sure cc!wilbur said what lead to c!wilbur's spiral was a "dark, twister view of possessions" and "disregard for his fellow citizen whom he claimed to love so much", but i really wouldn't say it was the control room; if anything the sudden loss of power after the elections seems to me like the trigger for his spiral.

I watched the exile arc live and. I feel dirty almost for feeling little to no sympathy for c!dream (srry ive been forgetting to add that aa) because of his actions toward c!tommy and like. The whole probation was so humiliating and unfair and c!dream was planning to frame him for the crimes he and puffy did under the the guise of "pranks" and c!quackity was planning to seize the vice president role.

i mean... to be fair, if you didn't watch the prison arc much yet or only watch tommy's perspective i understand not feeling that sympathetic - however, i encourage you to maybe watch a few prison visits, since they could help you see the whole picture better!

i also watched it live, and i also thought it was terrible, but i share very much the same sentiment for the prison arc because. absolutely no one should have to go through either of those things, you know?

i don't think probation was that humiliating? he was just. being asked to not start conflict with the other factions for two weeks. of course, what happened as a result is in no way justified, but i don't think probation itself would've been bad at all. either way yeah the framing and c!quackity's behaviour was. very yikes, i agree.

Also c!tommy antis are dumb because they say "he deserved exile angry emoji" i dont see u saying that about ranboo. Just say you hate cc!tommy and go. Also people say c!tommy was just as toxic to c!dream and i??? No. One is the victim and one is the abuser and like. :/// man. This part is rambly srry

i wouldn't say they hate cc!tommy? cc!tommy has a persona who people think is annoying at first ( but then they subscribe because he is super entertaining big man! ) but a lot of c!tommy's actions are straight up toxic to certain characters, such as c!funndy and c!jack. he has a very dismissive attitude towards others and their trauma and it does affect the people around them very negatively.

examples; his repeated bullying and behavior towards fundy:

Tommy: “Fundy, I’m just here to kinda let you know that I – if you weren’t Wilbur’s son, you would be out of L’manburg, alright? Just remember – you need to keep that relationship with your father. I saw how asshole-y and bratty you were acting in the courtroom the other night. You need to pull your shit together young man.”

......

Fundy: “I’m wearing glasses…are you making fun of my eyesight?!”

Tommy: “Yes.”

Sapnap: “Your father would be very disappointed.”

Fundy: “Wh – disappointed for wearing glasses?!”

Tommy: “You got glasses, like what are you wearing…”

Fundy: “What do you mean?”

Tommy: “Sapnap, Sapnap, over here. Fundy, Fundy, Fundy, I’m really sorry to say this – I’m just here to publicly denounce you.”

Fundy: “…What?”

( credit for transcript: @/findingjoynweirdstuff )

he's also responsible for a big chunk of c!jack's trauma, both with actions and words, and that's why i think certain people might dislike the character, and i don't think that's wrong of them. anyone can dislike any character they want if they don't attack people for liking them, in my opinion.

also c!tommy was most definitely toxic against c!dream in the cell. it's of course understandable but that doesn't change the fact he was constantly hitting and insulting him (without dream doing anything back for a long while until he snapped) which is toxic behaviour.

i wouldn't say he was "just as" though, so i agree with you on that. they're different and they behave differently.

i made a dream blob keychain today. Is it possible to send images if u wanna see? Idk cus i havent used tumblr before. I think that's all for now. Thx for letting me talk :D peepoShy -curious anon (but fr a connoreatspants c!dream redemption arc would be cool)

yooo that's cool! i don't really,,, know if it's possible to send images? try it out and if it isn't i'll try find a way to turn it on.

also, no problem! just please remember this is a c!dream sympathetic blog, and me as well as my followers are uhh,, oftentimes emotionally attached / personally relate to the character, so if you could avoid sending hate on the character (not that you have or that i expect you to, just a friendly reminder) in the asks that would be great! we already see a lot of it unwillingly so, i'd rather not see more, but as long as the discussion is civil i'm absolutely ok with you asking more and with me answering more questions if you'd want to! :)

if anyone else would like to reblog this and add some things i might've missed with my answers, feel free to, just go easy on her (she uses she/her pronouns!) and keep it factual.

i hope u had a good or at least ok time at school today :D

thanks! i gtg now because exam tomorrow but i'm going to try write the redemption essay tomorrow as well because ohhh boy i have a lot of ideas about what all i could write around the concept.

also sorry this was long, i can't keep my tongue on the leash :[