#is adjust the canon relationships just ever so slightly in a way that allows me to enjoy them more | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

boldlyvoid · 3 years ago

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Wheels Up

Characters: Spencer Reid, Reader (Y/N), Aaron Hotchner, David Rossi, Derek Morgan, Savannah Hayes, Emily Prentiss, Elle Greenaway, Tara Lewis, Jennifer Jareau, Matt Simmons, Luke Alvez

Summary: JJ goes on maternity leave, Spencer falls in love with her replacement that he's supposed to be mentoring, Emily Prentiss and Elle Greenaway work a case together that brings Simmons and Alvez in for help...

Warnings: Genius!Reader, mutual pining, idiots in love, drinking, star gazing, lots of fluff, mentions of past assault, grooming, drug addiction, spencer's trauma, Abductions, Rape, Murder (typical canon violence)

word count: 9.4K

a/n: this is for @starry-eyed-spence and @simmonsmilf CM fanfiction week, Day One: Favorite Character... only I couldn't pick just one.

To say Spencer fell in love at the least opportune time was a bit of an understatement. Everyone he’s ever come close to admitting his love to has either left him or died. Now he’s stuck with loving someone in secret, keeping it to himself and hoping that one day she’ll love him back.

He fell in love with a co-worker once again… which wasn’t the worst thing, office romances happen and it’s quite frankly all Rossi’s fault that they even had to worry about fraternization policies. The part that makes liking Y/N so difficult is that he’s supposed to be her mentor, he’s 5 years older than her, and if he was to ever make a move she would feel inclined to reciprocate in order to keep her job because that’s the unfortunate truth behind office relationships with significant differences in positions.

And worst of all… she doesn’t like him that way at all. She’s called him the brother she always needed, a best friend, the best mentor ever. She wasn’t interested in him in the slightest.

“And why would she be?” He’s said this to everyone who knew about his crush on her. “I’m old and boring and she’s so cool?”

But he didn’t get it. He didn’t understand that every time she asked him to hang back to help her file something, or when they would buddy up in hotel rooms to discuss cases all night and end up down some star trek rabbit hole instead, every time he talked to her she was falling in love with him right back.

It once again all circles back to Rossi, if it wasn’t for him, Spencer wouldn’t even know her. She wouldn’t have ever been introduced to the unit, he wouldn’t be attached to her at the hip and he probably wouldn’t be as happy as he is with her in his life. Even if she wasn’t his girlfriend.

He’ll never forget the day Rossi asked him to meet her, to help her settle in…

“Spencer, can I talk to you for a minute?” Rossi called him into his office.

He sighed, putting his book down and walking up the stairs to his office. He closed the door behind himself and smiled awkwardly, “what’s up?”

“Sit,” he gestures to the chairs in front of his desk, where Spencer pulls one out and proceeds to sit down, anxiously. “As you know, both Kate and JJ will be out of the field in the next few months to have their babies and we need to bring someone in to fill the void until they return, so I reached out to the academy to see if they have any up and coming Dr. Reid like agents that they could loan us.”

“Why?” Spencer laughs at the choice of words.

“Well, honestly, why get new 2 agents when we could have two Reid’s? JJ will be back after a month or 2, it’s better to have more brains than brawn.”

“So they found someone and you want me to be their chaperone?” Spencer clues in. “Who are they?”

“Y/N Y/L/N, she’s a wonderful agent, but she’s pretty quiet, I don’t know much about her personally.” Rossi prefaces. “She’s a genius, high IQ like yours and just a plethora of knowledge inside that mind of hers. You’ll like her.”

“Alright,” he nods. “When do they start?”

“When JJ’s water breaks, but I’d like you to meet them and maybe even have them shadow you for a day?” Rossi asks, “I’ve actually arranged for you both to get dinner at a friend's restaurant?”

“Is this an arranged date or purely business? Don’t send me in there blind,” he worries. “I need at least a week's prep before I go on a date again.”

“It’s not a date, kid,” Rossi laughs. “She's just a lot like you were when I met you, and I know from watching you all these years that it’s not easy to do it alone, so can you just walk them through it?”

“Of course.”

That first dinner Rossi set up for them was more exquisite than either of them prepared for.

They spent the whole night discussing dissertations and their independent journeys through becoming a genius. He understood perfectly why Rossi and the Academy would think she was a lot like him, she was a genius, but she was awkward. It took a while for her to break out of her shell and open up, but by the end of the night, he already knew they were going to be friends.

“So,” she smirks, “would you mind telling me honestly how hard this job is?”

“Why?”

She sighs, “I’ve heard a lot about Thee Doctor Reid and how you were the youngest hired to the BAU and all the shit you’ve been through.”

“What are the rumours these days?” He awkwardly smiles back, rolling his eyes slightly.

“That you were brain dead in a cemetery from an overdose and yet you’re so smart you came back from the dead to kill the unsub and escape…” she looks more and more disappointed in the rumour as she tells it.

His tongue hits the roof of his mouth as he opens it to speak, making a tsk noise as he shakes his head. “Well, I did OD but it was the unsubs main personality that resuscitated me.”

“Holy shit,” she whispers.

He nods, “what about you? I’m sure you have a reputation based on a rumour?”

She presses her lips together the way he always did, just as awkward. She sighs, huffing the air out of her nose and looking fed up. “I was groomed and assaulted by an older boy who then told kids I had a stalkerish crush on him so if I was to ever tell anyone what happened, then no one would believe me.”

“I’m so sorry,” Spencer knows the words don’t make up for what happened. “I’m guessing that’s why you wanted to get into profiling?”

She nods, “I got away with some PTSD and trust issues, most girls go through much worse… they deserve someone who gets it to look into their cases.”

Spencer nods. “That’s how I felt after my kidnapping too. It took a while for me to look at crime scene photos and not think about how they felt, and wonder why I lived when so many die?”

“I’ve never been a religious person,” she prefaces. “But I do believe we are here for a reason. Whether you choseto be here after your last life or this is some learning opportunity, or God is actually real? And you’re supposed to do good.”

“In narcotics anonymous, they reference god a lot, it’s helpful for the addicts, but I never get into it,” he opens up with her more than he’s ever opened up with any friend. “If my Devine purpose is to suffer in order to relate to those I’m supposed to help that’s a load of bullshit… honestly, I can get pretty angry thinking about why I’ve gone through what I’ve gone through doing this job, but it’s not as bad as what happened to me growing up, and it leads me to believe that I probably wouldn’t have had an easy time no matter how I live.”

She nods, “I know, I get that.”

“Sorry,” he snaps out of it. “I didn’t mean to trauma dump on you.”

“It’s exactly what I asked for actually,” she reminds him with a soft smile. “If you can still come to work every day, after all that, you must be incredibly strong— and if I’m anything like you the way people say I am, I guess I can do it too.”

He had no idea she would end up being his best friend.

She shadowed him just once in the office, picked up everything right off the bat and immediately made a name for herself in the unit. Derek tried multiple names on her before one stuck, and they knew it stuck when even Hotch called her Baby Genius.

She brought a different knowledge base to the team, similar to Spencers but visibly younger. She fit in with the crowds of kids they had to interview, she understood why kids reacted the way they did to trauma and abuse, and she was still a kid at heart. It was the reason Spencer fell for her.

She allowed him to feel free again. They went out together outside of work, going to events he always wanted to go to with a partner but never had a chance. She loved all the same things as him, and she takes him to places he’d never imagine enjoying before her.

Like laser tag… that was an afternoon he’ll never forget with her.

When JJ went into labour, that’s when Y/N started full time and Hotch hired Tara Lewis in the same week. The team barely had time to adjust to being undermanned before they were restocked.

Joining Spencer every morning for every case, she waited out front of her apartment for him to pick her up most mornings, sticking to his side throughout the long days and nights until he drove her home again. Even at work, they were partnered up for everything: heading to the M.E. together, bouncing facts back and forth at the precinct, playing good cop bad cop with perverts, and her personal favourite… Making the geoprofile.

And Spencer liked doing that part with her as well. Because it typically meant they were completely alone in a room, spreading out a map and leaning in close to each other as they placed every sticker and marker. Brushing hands, bumping shoulders, longing glances as they made connections… he also just liked to watch her hands move.

She was delicate and careful and precise… and he was falling in love with everything about her as the days went by.

Everyone on the team had noticed. It was really hard not to when they’ve all known Spencer for almost 11 years now. He was so different with her in his life, he was happy and giddy and dressing even better than before. His hair was perfect and he was glued to Y/N’s side. Or she was glued to his.

Even though they were mentally similar, physically they were polar opposites. Y/N wore all black and was a lot more outgoing than they expected. Rossi thought she’d be quiet… But she was constantly talking. To Spencer, to other officers, to witnesses, she never stopped talking and starting conversations, and thank god she did because she’s cracked 4 cases that way.

The biggest surprise the team learned about her happened on a case in Florida, a shooting in a local park in broad daylight with lots of witnesses meant the whole team was on the boardwalk asking questions. She went out to do her thing, talking to the local skaters, asking them if they knew anything but they didn’t want to cooperate.

They were too cool for the feds.

“Can I see your board?” She asks, “if I do some tricks will you answer some questions for me and Doctor Reid?”

“Knock yourself out,” one of the boys laughs as he hands her his board.

She hands Spencer her gun and shoots him a wink before taking off to do a few tricks. The whole team watches in awe then as Y/N showed off. Cruising along the halfpipe effortlessly like she was a professional.

“Okay Tony Hawk,” Morgan teases her, “where did that come from?”

“Skateboarding is easy, it’s just physics,” she shrugs. “I can figure skate too…”

“What do you want to know?” The boy takes his board back. “We always see some sketchy guys around here.”

Morgan pats Y/N on the back with a smile, applauding her ability to get anyone to open up before leaving her to take the statement.

“Agent?” One of the girls pulls her aside just before they are about to leave, “how did you do that kickflip? I’ve been trying to learn and the boys won't help me.”

“Sure thing,” she takes the girl's board and demonstrates a kickflip first.

“So, you see as I start the kickflip I bend my knees?” She shows her another kickflip all while explaining it. “Much like the with an ollie, I’m building pressure so I can apply it to the tail, making the board pop. The one thing that makes this trick different from the ollie is that instead of sliding my foot up, I just flick my toe out to the right of the board, by doing this, the board flips in a 360-degree motion.

She demonstrates again and it’s another flawless kickflip, and a huge smile on her face as Spencer watches her.

“How fast the board spins depends on how much force I put into it when I flick it out. As soon as the board flips in a full 360, your feet should connect and drive the board back to the ground.”

She hands the board back to the girl, “your turn.”

She takes a deep breath and shakes her nerves out before taking off on her board, looping around and carefully bending her knees, she follows every step and it’s a flawless kickflip.

“Flawless!!” Y/N claps. “Those boys better watch out, you’re a natural.”

“Thank you,” she wraps her arms around Y/N and gives her a hug, “it’s taken me so long to be able to do that, you’re so cool.”

“You’re welcome,” she smiles. “Good luck out there.”

She waves as she takes off on her board, leaving Y/N with a smile as she turns to Spencer. “I miss being that age and thinking everything is so cool.”

“You are really cool,” he agrees. Smiling softly as a blush fills his cheeks. “You’re always surprising me. Is there anything you can’t do?”

She laughs, “yeah the one thing I want to do the most.”

“Which is?”

She sighs, “maybe I’ll tell you someday.”

—

He’s sitting beside Penelope and Savannah, watching Derek and Y/N get drinks for what’s left of the group as the night drags on.

“When are you going to tell her?” Savannah asks.

“What?” Spencer pretends he doesn’t know what she’s talking about.

“You have a crush on the new girl…” she pokes his cheek as he blushes and gives it away. “Tell her, what’s the worst that can happen?”

“She could feel forced to say yes because I’m a supervisory special agent and she isn’t and she wants to keep her job so she feels like she needs to,” Spencer worries. “I want her to like me back because she fell for me and I want her to initiate it because then I’ll know it’s not just a power dynamic issue.”

“Have you tried asking her, genius?” Penelope teases. “Because if you asked her then you’d know she has a crush on you and she’s afraid you’ll turn her down because you’re an SSA and she isn’t.”

“When did you hear that?”

Penelope pretends to lock up her lips and throw away the key, making Savannah laugh loud enough to get Derek's attention at the bar. When he and Y/N return, that’s when the questions start.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” Spencer gets up and leaves the booth, walking out towards the smokers' exit at the back of the bar, getting a moment of semi-fresh air to think about what Penelope said.

“Spence?” She calls to him from the door, “are you okay? Can I come out here?”

“Yeah,” he nods. “Sorry, I needed some air, it’s nothing.”

“Do you need a hug? I read it helps the most when people are stressed out,” she plays it off with a shrug.

“So you do have a crush on me?”

“She told you?” Her face lights with fury, “what the fuck, Penelope?”

“She didn’t mean to,” he tries to cover it up. “It was only brought up because I have feelings for you as well.”

Her eyes widen, her brows raise and her mouth slowly opens as she freezes.

“Y/N?”

She blinks a few times and shakes her head, “impossible. There’s no way.”

He laughs, “I’ll take that hug now?”

She lunges for him and wraps her arms around him so tight. Breathing him in, her hands wander his back as she takes in every second if it and he does the same. He can’t believe she’s that close to him, her hair smells nice and she’s so soft in his arms.

It’s quiet outside, they can hear the music behind the door, the people in the ally talking and the crickets in the night. It’s just them outside, holding each other in the smoking section with smiles on their faces, amazed that it’s finally happening.

“Can we keep this between us?” She whispers into his ear. “Just for a bit? I don’t want to go through all the paperwork and have to separate in the field if it doesn’t work out?”

“Wait,” Spencer pulls back. “Are you asking me to be your boyfriend?”

She nods, “well yeah isn’t that what happens when two people have a mutual crush? They date?”

“Okay,” he smiles, staring at her lips and then flicking his gaze back to hers with a blush. “I have more than a crush on you, I really, really like you.”

“Prove it,” she teases, “let's go on a real date soon?”

“You know what, let’s get out of here. I have something I want to show you,” he takes her hand and waits for her to nod.

“Take my lead okay? You don’t feel good and you’re going to wait outside while I say goodbye,” she has a plan right away

“After you,” he holds the door open for her and lets her inside first.

—

“I’m taking Spencer home, he’s not doing well,” she’s a much better actress than Spencer expected, patting his back and watching him leave the bar before her like she asked him to do. “He’s really anxious?”

Penelope looks worried, “oh no, I fucked up. I told him you like him.”

She just shrugs, “if he didn’t know that already then I guess he’s not as smart as he pretends to be.”

“See,” Derek looks at Savannah. “I told you everyone else also thinks he’s faking being that smart.”

“Shut up,” she shoves him and turns her attention back to Y/N. “Go make him feel better, he’ll like your company.”

“I’ll see you guys at work on Monday,” she waves them goodbye, surprised they bought it as she rushes her way back outside to Spencer.

He’s already in his car, engine running and waiting for her with a smile. “Come on,” he hurries her inside and is taking off down the road before she even has her seatbelt on yet.

“What’s the rush, Spence? It’s only 1 in the morning I’m sure tones of places are open still?” She teases.

“You’re going to like this, I used to go here all the time when I started with the bureau,” he explains, leaving the main road to take a back root, and eventually they’re driving on gravel.

“If you’re taking me here to murder me this is a dumb way to do it because they all know I left with you,” she teases. “At least when you go to get rid of me, do yourself a favour and dig 6 one-foot holes instead of one 6 foot hole…”

He laughs, “would you really give your murderer tips?”

She nods, “my goal would be to piss him off so much he either lets me go or murders me quickly. I don’t want to go through all the pain.”

“It’s not fun, that’s for sure,” he shrugs it off but she knows it hits too hard.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, reaching her hand out for his to hold by the gear shift. “I think you’re like the strongest guy in the world, you know that, right?”

“Why?” He asks as if that's a preposterous thing to say.

“I think if I got kidnapped and tortured at 24 I wouldn’t still be working in the FBI,” she admits. “I barely made it through the academy, I know this job is intense but I don’t think I could handle being in that situation.”

“If it’s up to me,” Spencer squeezes her hand tighter and brings it to his lips for a kiss. “You’ll never experience anything like that.”

He’s so good at making her feel safe that she almost believes he has the power to do that. He would do anything and everything to move fate for her safety.

He turns down another back road then, around the edge of a lake and towards a clearing. He follows old tire tracks and parks by the dock. “I found this spot one night on a random drive to clear my head.”

“I thought you hated driving?” She quizzes him.

He shrugs, “I like to drive at night when no one else is on the road because then I don’t really have to worry about anyone else. I hate driving because I can’t always anticipate other drivers' movements. If I could read minds, then I’d drive more.”

“Valid,” she nods, “now why is this such a special spot that you needed to show me right away?”

“Well, I have a telescope and it’s been in my trunk for the last 13 years so that every time I come here, I can look up at the moon…”

“You brought me here to look at the moon with you?” She swoons, “that’s so cute.”

“You think?” He looks like his heart is doing the same swelling as hers.

She gets out of the car before she can lean over and kiss him the way she wants to. In his trunk, he does have a telescope, and a blanket, which they set out on the dock and sit upon.

The sound of the lake, the loons in the distance, frogs and crickets and music travelling from somewhere down the lake. The moon was big, the stars were amazing, and this was the closest she has ever seen them. It's amazing, and of course, it was Spencer showing her everything.

He was everything to her.

And it didn’t take long for him to become everything to her either.

Joining the BAU was a dream to many at the academy, but Y/N never thought that she would get the job, overjoyed that she did. They were a family unit; they got the job done, they protected each other, and it was a wonderful environment to be a part of. She obviously liked Spencer the most out of everyone. He took her in, he made her feel comfortable and safe and she opened up more with him than she has with anyone she’s labelled a “best friend” in the past.

She liked everything about him. The way he talked with his hands, how his sweater, vest, shirt and tie always match, his gun looks a little out of place on his belt, like it’s too big for him, but it’s cute. His hair’s been getting longer too, sometimes he wears glasses and sometimes if she’s lucky, he doesn’t shave every day.

She can’t take her eyes off him when he’s busy and won't notice, just to then move her focus away when he stared at her. She only wishes she could see the way he stares at her in awe, because if it’s anything like how she looks at him, he must love her.

She keeps her hand in his, trading the telescope back and forth in turns, her face was close to his every time they switched and she kept getting bolder with each exchange. Letting Spencer look, she kept her face close to his, kissing his cheek softly as soon as he was busy peering up at the moon.

He turned to her with a gasp, “what was that for?”

“You’re cute,” she shrugs. “I’ve wanted to kiss you for a while.”

“How long?” He teases, leaning in closer and kissing her nose to make her laugh.

“Since you dropped me off at my house after that first dinner…”

“So this is me,” she nods out the window, “thank you for the ride, I appreciate not having to be in an Uber all by myself.”

“Anytime you need a ride, you can give me a call?” He asks. “Seeing as we’ll be going to the same place anyway.”

She nods with a smile, “I’d love that, do you live close to here?”

“Just up the street,” he nods. “So we could carpool?”

“I can drive some days if you want?” She asks, “I know you mostly take the subway, and I know that because I’ve seen you reading on there before.”

He can’t help but smile, “so you never thought to say hello?”

“No,” she shakes her head, “you looked peaceful, and I’m sure you don’t get many moments like that in your line of work.”

He sighed, knowing she was right. “If it ever gets to be too much for you, please never feel like you have to pretend to be okay? None of us expect you to be stone cold, none of us are either. The job gets to us, just tell me if it gets to be too much?”

She looks from his lips back to his eyes and over again, “thanks, Spencer.”

He does the same to her, “anytime. Should I walk you to your door?”

She shakes her head, “that’s okay you’ve done enough for me tonight.”

“Fair enough,” he laughs. “Have a good night Y/N.”

“You too, Spencer,” she smiles before she exits his car, smiling at him from her porch before he drives away.

“So it’s been mutual this whole time?” He shakes his head at the absurdity. “I’ve been so lonely for so long and then I found you and you make me feel like I don’t need to be alone anymore.”

“You complete me too,” she makes one more comment before connecting their lips.

It’s like the world stops then. It’s silent and serene and everything she thought kissing Spencer Reid would be.

She pulls back with a smirk, “oh no.”

“What?” He worries.

“I’m going to want to kiss you all the time now…”

“Good,” he mumbles the words against her lips before reconnecting them.

—

At work on Monday, it’s very hard for them to look at each other without remembering that they’ve kissed. Spencer’s practically glowing with admiration for her that he gives it all away. He’s overly happy, offering to do things for others, standing way too close to her and bringing her coffee all morning.

“Okay, pretty boy,” Derek takes him by the scruff of the neck and redirects him into his office. “What’s going on with you today, I know you’re not this happy for JJ’s return?”

“What do you mean?”

“Did you get laid or something?”

Spencer laughs, “no, you know I don’t get laid. You actually remind me of that fact quite often.”

“You’re so happy I’m worried you’ve moved to crack,” he says it. “Okay, you were acting weird on Friday, you missed brunch on Sunday and now you’re waaay too happy.”

“I’m not on drugs again,” Spencer assures him. “I’m just letting myself enjoy my time with Y/N, if she falls in love with me in the meantime that would also be nice.”

“Oh, so you’re doing this to get laid,” Derek teases him again. “That’s good, I’m sorry if I triggered you by asking, but I had to make sure you’re okay.”

“No, no,” he places his hands on Derek's shoulders, “thank you for caring.”

“Always—“

“Guys!” They hear Hotch yelling from the bullpen, cutting the tender moment short, saving Spencer from spilling the truth.

Rushing back, he sits beside Y/N at the briefing room table. “We have a bad one,” Emily Prentiss of all people walks in the door, followed by Elle Greenaway.

“We’ll have time to mingle in a minute, right now there is a woman who needs our help,” he announces.

Spencer quickly reads over the case files, recognizing Elles handwritten notes, she was a private investigator now. “With Penelope’s help, I’ve been able to set up alerts in College chatrooms in the area so that I can help to missing and assaulted women right away.”

“She’s alerted when someone reports a missing woman and she has advertisements for people to reach out to her for help,” Penelope explained.

“I’ve been working on these cases for the last 9 years,” Elle announces. “This morning Aasia Desai called me saying her sister Bahni never showed up for lunch and it’s not like her, we know she went clubbing last night and so far Penelope’s tracked her down an ally and then she’s gone.”

“Her parents are British diplomats so Interpol has asked me to join, luckily I was just in Ontario so it was a short trip over,” Emily adds. “JJ will be here in half an hour for her first day back, and we will celebrate when we can, but I see we have some new faces here?”

“Special Agent Y/N Y/L/N,” she waves, still glued to Spencer’s side. “I’ve heard a lot about you both from Doctor Reid.”

“Doctor Tara Lewis,” she stands and shakes Emily’s hand, and then Elles.

“So it says here that the first missing case was in 2006 just after you left the BAU?” Spencer changes the subject before anyone can pry into why he would be telling her about the women who worked there before her.

“I did,” Elle nods. “I was too late for her, by the time her parents realized she was missing and called me in the case was cold. I started this as a way to get ahead of it.”

“How long has she been missing?” Tara asks.

“She was last seen at 1:07 this morning,” Elle confirms. “We have 25 hours, maybe, to beat the odds.”

“Reid,” Hotch cuts in, “I would like you and Elle to go check out the street she was last seen on, find any private cameras or anyone who might have seen something.”

He turns to Y/N who just shrugs in silence; “it’s fine.”

“Tara and Derek, I’d like you to interview Aasia when she and JJ get here, Garcia can you do a deep dive into Bahni’s spending and academic records?”

“Sure thing,” she starts clicking away on her computer immediately.

“And Y/N,” Elle looks at her. “I need you to go over the footage of the man who followed her to the alley and get familiar with his face. We’re using you as the face of the investigation to hopefully draw the unsub out.”

“How would she be able to do that alone?” Spencer gets defensive, a way he used to with JJ when she was the media liaison.

“If she goes on the news and makes Bahni seem like a person while describing the unsub as someone who can help solve the case, it will draw him out,” Emily explains for Hotch, who is glaring at Spencer for second-guessing the plan already.

“And she’s college-age,” Elle adds. “If that’s who he’s been going after all this time he will want to come in and talk IF he can talk to her.”

She places her hand on his leg under the table, “it’s a good plan.”

“It is,” Hotch agrees.

“What do you not have a saying to replace wheels up when they stay in town?” Elle teases him.

“Wheels away?” Emily joins her, “that works?”

“just get to work,” Hotch tries not to smirk at them.

Spencer stands up to leave with Elle, “can I just talk to Spencer before he leaves?” She carefully asks Hotch.

“Make it quick,” he agrees reluctantly and lets her follow him down to his desk.

Spencer rests his hands on the back of his desk chair, holding it tightly in an attempt to calm himself down.

“I’m going to be fine,” she assures him. “I don’t think the guy on the tape took her, we’d see him leave if he did.”

“Unless he lives in the alley,” Spencer combats. “Can you ask Penelope to do a background check on all the cars coming in and out of the campus and that street between midnight at 2 am?”

She nods, placing her hand on his gently. “Good luck out there, okay?”

He nods, “it’s been 2 days they’re going to know by the end of the week.”

She laughs, “so be it.”

He says fuck it right then and there, wrapping her up in a hug and kissing the top of her head as the team watches in the briefing room. “I’ll see you later.”

“Yes you will,” she smacks his side as he lets her go. “If you’re going to make a scene at least give me a real kiss.”

“Hmm,” he teases. “No cause then I’d have to sign some paperwork and I’ve got to go…” he starts to back away.

“Coward,” she teases.

He just shrugs, meeting Elle by the door and heading towards the elevators in silence.

She doesn’t ask, not even when they get to the garage or inside the SUV. They’re driving down the road for maybe 2 minutes when Elle finally brings it up. “So—”

“What do you want to know?”

“It's that easy now? What happened to you?” She teases. “You’re so different from the baby Spence I left.”

“Well you missed my drug problem, my dad being a possible child molester, getting shot in the knee, getting shot in the neck, my girlfriend dying, and now my mom might have Alzheimer's so you know… I had to grow up a bit,” he lays it all out for her to ask any question she wants.

“Why don’t you ever call me? I would have been there for you through anything,” she reminds him.

“I know that,” he reaches over for her hand, “thank you. But I was a big fan of suffering in silence… and now I have Y/N and she makes me feel normal?”

“That’s good, you deserve some fraction of normal in your life and she’s really cute,” Elle smiles back at him before returning her focus to the road. “How old is she?”

“27,” he smiles. “She’s the best.”

“You love her,” Elle notices it.

He presses his lips together to fend off a smile as he nods, “I think I do.”

“Tell her, you deserve to hear that someone loves you back.”

—

She’s anxiously tapping her foot as she waits for the elevator to arrive with the suspect, Rossi standing just behind her. Only 15 minutes after being on the news, the man that was in the security footage contacted them. Making his way over for a voluntary interview.

He looks Y/N up and down with a smile, “I heard you were looking for me.”

“I sure was,” she plays along with it, smiling and making him think she’s interested as well. “I knew you’d get the message, we just need all the help we can get right now.”

“Of course,” he has his ego stroked so well that they can roll with it.

“Would you mind coming with me and Agent Rossi to talk about everything you saw?” She batts her lashes at him, really selling it.

“Sure,” he follows them down the hall.

Rossi opens the door and lets them in first, letting her get him settled and a glass of water. “So you can tell me everything from that night?”

“Sure,” he nods, explaining his taxi job, his run for the night and his alibi.

“So why did you step back into the doorway?” She asks as she sits in front of him. Straight-faced as she catches him off guard.

“Excuse me?”

“You stepped out of the way to let her pass and then followed her, she made no motion to say she wanted your services, so I’m just wondering why you would follow her before she disappeared?”

“Huh,” he suddenly feels played and his personality switches. “I thought this was just a chat?”

“I’m simply asking you questions? If you don’t have answers that makes you suspicious. An innocent person would have given me an answer,” she fights back.

“She’s right, you got very defensive very fast,” Rossi finally speaks up.

He shakes his head with a huff. “I was going to ask if she needed a ride, she looked pretty messed up. And then some guy came over and wrapped his arm around her and they walked off. They seemed to know one another. I thought she was safe in his hands.”

Only his tone doesn’t match the words. He sounds jealous— It’s not like she would have been a large tab, he wasn’t jealous because he lost a customer. No, he’s jealous like someone stepped in and prevented him from snatching an easy victim.

“Fair enough,” she pretends to believe him. “Thank you for your cooperation.”

“I can go now?” He changes right back to confused.

She nods, “I’ll escort you down if you’d like?”

“Thanks,” he stands and follows her to the door where Rossi stops her.

“Are you sure?”

She nods, “I’ll be back up shortly.”

She catches up with him by the elevators, “did you have to drive far to get here?” She makes small talk.

“Not really,” he shakes it off. “I like your necklace.”

She touches her necklace and her face drops, “thanks.”

“Necklaces are my favourite.”

“You don’t wear any?” She notices in the form of a question.

He shakes his head as the elevator opens at the ground level. “I think they’re nice gifts.”

She nods along, pretending that didn’t set off every ret alert and alarm in her mind, “well here you are. Thanks again for all the help.”

“No problem,” he goes to leave, turning to stop and block the doors from closing. “If you want, later tonight I can show you everything I saw at the alley?”

“Yeah, sure,” she agrees with no plan to go.

“8 pm? At Cafe Linda?”

“See you then,” she agrees and he steps back letting the door close and then she loses her cool.

Feverishly smashing the floor 6 button, and begging to make it back up to Hotch to tell him everything. But she also just wants to cry but she holds it in as she makes it to their floor matching past Rossi and right into the briefing room.

“He may not be our unsub but that man is a creep,” she announces. “He not only complimented my necklace but he asked me to come to the alley tonight so he can walk me through what he saw.”

“You’re not going,” Hotch announces.

“I didn’t plan to,” she snaps. “I think we need to look into him because he’s either giving little girls necklaces to keep them quiet or he’s taking necklaces after he kills women.”

“Kathy’s parents said she was in a necklace when she went missing,” Emily adds. “His connection to this case and being at NYU right before she went missing gives us enough probable cause for a search warrant.”

Hotch sighs, “fine. I’ll call a judge, you and Y/N can go and search his place.”

“So shouldn’t we arrest him before he leaves the building?” Morgan asks.

“He’s still in the garage, I’ve let the security know to stop him and arrest him at the gate,” Garcia adds, listening in and planning in advance.

“Thank you,” Hotch smiles at her, “you’re always reading my mind.”

Garcia smiles back at him, “always, sir.”

“Okay, let’s go,” she looks at Emily and waiting for her to turn to leave the room.

“Let’s,” she motions for Y/N to take the lead and follows.

The drive to his house is so weird… she doesn’t quite know how to talk to Emily, knowing only slightly about her and her knowing nothing about Y/N.

“So how long have you and Spencer been dating?” Her first question just gets right to the point.

She laughs awkwardly, “3 days…”

“Oh…”

She hums as she nods along, looking out the window and avoiding Emily’s eye contact. “It’s new, we’re both pretty infatuated with each other but we’re taking it slower than most people because I’m afraid to let my feelings change how I do the job.”

“Makes sense,” Emily replies. Her voice is so sweet, she has an aura of calm that follows her and lets Y/N feel safe. She gets why Spencer said she was his best friend on the team before her.

“The necklace comment… why did it make you so wary of this guy?”

“When I was in middle school a guy gave me a necklace while he was grooming me,” she whispers. Looking out the window and pretending it doesn’t bother her now. “It’s fine, I don’t have it anymore, but I knew this guy had that same vibe.”

Emily put her hand out, letting Y/N interlock their fingers and hold it. “I know I just met you, but you’re family now. I’m here if you’re ever suddenly not fine with it anymore…”

“Thanks,” she smiles. “Let’s get this fucker.”

—

By the time the warrant went through, Spencer and Elle had joined them to search the first suspect's house while Emily left to help the rest of the team with suspect two. Tracking all the license plates in the area like Spencer suggested lead them to a Chinese food delivery driver in the area.

That didn’t stop Y/N from destroying her suspect's house. They tore the house apart, searching every nook and cranny for any answer that would make sense. She was tempted to lift the floorboards up, call in SCSI to run ground-penetrating radar and search the fucking walls if they had to.

But then she found it.

A small metal box in the laundry room contained some tools and when she lifted up the fake bottom, she found 5 necklaces.

“Elle!!” She yelled through the house.

They both came running down the hall to her, “is this Kathy’s necklace?”

“Oh my god,” she whispered with a nod.

“I want to kill this guy,” she mumbles under her breath as she places the necklaces back in the box and closes it up.

“Spencer doesn’t need another girl he has a crush on to murder someone and get kicked out of the bureau,” Elle teases.

“What?” Y/N asks.

“Way to go,” Spencer nudges her.

Y/N stands up with the box and slides it into a large evidence bag before taping it up. “I guess he has a type then.”

“I don’t,” Spencer tries to cover up. “I mean, if I do then it’s people who are nice to me…”

She smiles at him, unable to even pretend to be jealous or mad. “It’s hard to be mean to you when you’re so cute.”

“Ew,” Elle announces her disgust as she leaves the room.

“Let’s get out of here before I end up kissing you in a murderer's laundry room,” Spencer teases, taking her hand and leading her out of the house as the rest of the forensics team takes over the bagging of evidence.

“Guys,” Elle rushes back to them with her phone pressed to her ear. “We have a bigger problem than we thought with Bahni.”

They rush into the SUV, putting the team on the speaker to hear the most unthinkable. “So I did what Y/N suggested and searched every single driver coming in and off-campus and the last street she was seen on,” Penelope explains back. “And I came across a man who was delivering Chinese food under the name Tom Larson… and it’s ironic his name is tom because he has a plethora of peeping offences and general creepiness alongside a metric shit-ton of abuse from his dad and dead mother.”

“Okay?” Elle follows.

“Tom Larson lives near Bahni,” Emily explains, “I was just at his house where I found him and his father had been murdered.”

“So we have not 1 but 3 creeps in this case, and none of them are who took Bahni?” Spencer rubs his eyes. “Please tell me we know who was in Tom’s car last night.”

“That’s where it gets tricky,” Penelope says with the doles tones of keys clicking behind her words. “We were just contacted by the fugitive Taskforce because they believe one of the murderers they’ve been tracking took Bahni… but he has ties to a much larger scale global sex trafficking ring.”

Elle flies through the streets with their lights on, pulling back into headquarters and right up to the security check. “So who is this guy?”

“Once you get back up here, Agent Simmons and Alvez will explain everything,” Hotch confirms. “I’m taking Derek to see Cruze, we need to tell him what’s going on.”

“Sounds good,” Elle hangs up and throws the SUV in park.

Y/N hesitates, staying put and taking a few breaths as Spencer watches. Elle’s left the car and is already on her way to the elevator. “What’s wrong?”

“Can I just have a hug real quick?”

“Yeah,” he wraps his arms around her and holds her close. “Are you okay?”

She nods against him, “yeah it’s just good to have at least 8 hugs a day.”

“Hug me whenever you need to,” he whispers against her hair, kissing the side of her head before she pulls back.

“Kisses are helpful too?”

He smiles, leaning in and pressing his lips to hers, mumbling against them, “how many?”

She hums, “10?”

He pecks her lips 10 times and counts each one, making her giggle, it takes so much effort to hold her smile back to keep kissing him but she feels much better.

“Thank you,” she beams and she can swear Spencer's eyes sparkle as he smiles back.

She pulls him into another hug, “I hate that we have to go catch a killer right now.”

“Come on then, as soon as we get him we can go on another date somewhere?”

She shakes her head, “after this case I think we should take a nap together… I’m exhausted and I don’t want to let you go.”

Spencer shakes his head in amazement, “you really like me?”

“Yeah, maybe I do,” she teases him. “You should get used to it because it’s only going to get more intense and I will smother you with love.”

He just shrugs, “it’s about time—“

They’re startled with a knock on the window, “we get it you’re in love, can we go now?”

“Sorry!” Y/N calls back with a giggle, pulling him in for one last kiss before getting out. Spencer follows with a deep blush that everyone will see when they get back upstairs, but it looks cute on him.

Luke Alvez has been trying to catch one criminal for the last 2 years. Simon Garrett has been a pain in the ass for the FBI, the CIA and DEA. He first showed up on their radar when his DNA was found on 14 women’s remains, all of who had been missing for at least 5 years.

His DNA was then traced to his son in the foster system, who’s been off the radar for the last 10 years. Everette Garrett.

“Now he’s interesting because I’ve been investigating his sex trafficking ring between Canada and the United States,” Matt adds. “All 14 women his father's DNA was found on were thought to be in his ring, which means when they get too old he hands them to his father to take care of.”

Y/N shakes her head as she listens, “so if you’ve been looking for them for this long what makes you think we can find them in time to save Bahni?”

“We’ve been tracking him for a while, we knew that he had a new girl on his radar and when we heard it was Bahni Desai we knew it was time to get you guys,” Matt explains.

“So far we know that she has to be taken to this warehouse in Alexandria before she goes any further, we’re going to intercept them before they make it to the warehouse and then use their car to gain access to take the whole thing down,” Luke rolls out a map of the facility then.

“We need to have the place surrounded for any runners, SWAT is getting prepped, we’re going tonight at 3 am,” Matt adds. “Morgan, Hotch, Prentiss, Alvez and Myself will be running a team at each of the 5 exits. Once inside, each team's swat unit will deploy gas to carefully knock everyone out, from there we need someone to cuff everyone at least until we know who is a victim and who is working there.”

“We’re taking everyone alive?” Spencer makes sure he hears them right.

“We need to know what the step after this warehouse is if we want to rescue more victims,” Luke’s voice is gentle yet stern as he explains. “I’ve seen this man take too many women from good homes and ruin their lives, I’m not letting him slip out of my fingers.”

“We’ve had this planned for months, we just needed to wait for the next confirmed drop-off.”

“Who’s driving?” Y/N asks, having a feeling it was her and Spencer.

“He’s Reids age,” Hotch announces from the door as he walks in with Cruze, “so we’ll replace Everette with Reid and Bahni with Y/L/N.”

“Rossi and Elle will be there to apprehend Everette, we’re setting up a fake traffic spot to irritate him and inhibit him from running. You two will be in a duplicate car arriving at the warehouse at the arranged time,” Emily confirms. “We just have to prep SWAT and then we can leave.”

“Alright, let’s get ready.”

—

Pretending to be kidnapped in the back of a car driven by her boyfriend was possibly the weirdest way to spend a Tuesday morning. Driving the exact make and model as their unsub, her heartbeat was loud enough to cover the sound of the engine and distract her from the long drive. She was overly anxious, and rightly so, it was her first sting.

And she was doing it all without coffee. Tired but full of adrenaline, she wanted to close her eyes and drift off but she knew she needed to be ready to apprehend the men at the gate with Spencer.

She feels the large bump, indicating they just went over a speed bump and she knows what that means. The car slows and she can hear the muffled talking before swat steps in, soon enough Spencer is cracking the trunk open and reaching in for her.

“Are you okay?” He helps her to her feet and makes sure her bulletproof vest is on right before handing her, her gun and watching her clip it on.

“Yeah, what happened?”

“The guards are down, Swat moved in as soon as we arrived, now we have to stand here and wait for them to clear the building,” Spencer explains as they walk to the front of her car.

She draws her gun and keeps it pointed low, guarded as they watch the front entrance for anyone to escape. “Do you know if Bahni is okay?” She whispers towards him.

He nods, “they radioed in that they got her, she’s being airlifted to the hospital with JJ right now.”

She nods with a deep breath, “okay good.”

“It’s going to be fine, we have enough SWAT here to take the government,” he tries to joke, getting a laugh from one of the officers… very strange to see someone laugh while holding an assault rifle.

One of the swat side steps towards Spencer, “I’m hearing on the line that they’ve cleared every room. They’re cuffing everyone, you’re free to enter.”

“Thanks,” Spencer replies.

The high-pitched screech rubber gripping asphalt in an attempt to stop draws their attention backwards. Elle and Rossi jumping out with their guns drawn, ready to join even though the exciting part is long over.

“No runners?” Elle asks, holstering her weapon. “Aw man, I was excited.”

“Not a one,” Y/N adds, watching the front entrance for the rest of the team to start funnelling out with the unsubs.

Luke exits first with a big smile on his face, Simon Garrett cuffed and barely stumbling out the door in front of him. He finally got him.

“well done,” Elle congratulates him. “Let me help you get him in SWAT van.”

“I think she has a thing for Luke,” Rossi leans into Y/N to gossip. “she wouldn’t stop asking about him on the drive…”

“Ooo,” Y/N teases, getting more and more tired as her adrenaline drops. Her eyes are heavy and Rossi can tell.

“Why don’t I bring you and the good doctor home, I don’t think they need all of us for the wrap-up,” Rossi pats her back. “You’ve had a long night, kid.”

“Thank you,” she smiles, holstering her gun and turning with him towards the SUV. “I’m so exhausted.”

“Well you’ve been on the job for almost 24 hours now, you’ve officially made it through your first overnight sting op,” Rossi congratulates her like he’s her grandpa.

She turns back when she doesn’t hear Spencer following her, “Spence? Are you coming?”

“Um,” he has something to ask as he follows then but he doesn’t say it. “Yeah, sorry.”

“It’s okay, come sit with me in the back?” She asks, sliding in beside him and resting her head on his shoulder as soon as their seatbelts are on.

“Did you still want to have a nap together?” He whispers, feeling her nod against his shoulder before she pulls back.

“Come here,” she tugs him in against her chest, snuggling in as best as she could in their sitting position. Holding him close and feeling him drift off in her arms. She has no problem following suit.

When she wakes, Rossi is parked outside of her apartment, “here you go, Y/N.”

She hums as she comes to, shaking Spencer awake too, “Spence, come on, let’s get to bed.”

“He’s going with you?”

She nods, “don’t tell Penelope. She’ll have a field day, I just want a nap.”

“You better get more than a nap,” Rossi orders. “You guys need to actually rest before you come back to work on Wednesday.”

“Thanks, Dad,” she teases him. “We will.”

“Bye Dave,” Spencer whispers as he gets out of the car. “Thank you for the ride.”

“Anytime kid,” Rossi waves them off, waiting for them to enter the building before driving away.

“Finally,” she sighs, dragging Spencer down the hall and towards her apartment. “I’m so fucking tired.”

“me too,” he barely says.

He follows her inside like a lost puppy, taking off his vest and shirt, slipping out of his pants until he’s in an undershirt, boxers and his mismatched socks. She’s amazed by how comfortable he is with her, but she has known him for 3 months, it’s enough time to fall in love with someone… right?

She’s loved him since she started working with him. When she realized he valued her opinions, he looked at her as a person and he genuinely loved her company. She felt a real connection with him, not just childish infatuation. He was everything to her.

She slides into bed beside him and snuggles in, wrapping an arm around his middle and resting her head on his chest.

“I guess I really can do everything,” she smirks.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

She pokes his chest and giggles away the awkwardness, “the thing I wanted to do most, the thing that I couldn’t do… that was to fall in love with you, but I did it anyway.”

“Well, then I guess I can do everything too.”

She pulls away to look at him, “I love you, Spencer. I don’t know if it’s too soon, but I’ve loved you for a while.”

He pulls her in for a kiss, shocking her as he breathes her in and holds her there. “I love you, more Y/N.”

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#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine

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spiders-hth-is-an-outlier · 3 years ago

Text

Thinking about Quentin Coldwater's sex life, as one does, and like. There's an understandable chain of logic that leads from Quentin's obvious, like, general life timidity and his tongue-tied inability to express his attraction to Alice like an adult, through to "Quentin is uncomfortable with everything and especially with his sexuality" and therefore "Quentin is awkward in bed and wants to be told what to do." That seems like an organic progression.

Except -- that's not entirely supported by the text, right? Yes, he's drunk in his threesome, but he's not passive by any means! The camera frames him lying on top of Margo, then boosting himself up higher than Eliot -- in reality that means little to nothing, but in the language of film, it's meant to make sure we know he's an active participant here, right? Like that's why you would frame the shots that way, as a director. He also doesn't come across as that uptight or physically awkward when he's in the shower with Emily, iirc. And when we learn that he's not quite, uh, banging on all cylinders with Alice, it seems to be because he's not taking whatever nonverbal direction she's been giving -- not that he's a selfish lover exactly, but that he seems to think sex is something you can just learn how to perform, then go ahead and perform it just like that with whatever partner.

So as best I can construct, Quentin is super uptight when it comes to admitting desire and making potentially unwelcome sexual overtures -- I mean, maybe understandably if you think the dominant relationship in his head has been the girl who's allowed to hug and kiss him but he is never, ever allowed to Ruin the Friendship with by admitting it turns him on -- but when he knows he's permitted to fuck someone, he's fairly confident that he knows how to do that! Arguably too confident in that belief!

I mean, it's admittedly slightly less hot than I don't know, Eliot, can you show me? but unfortunately canon can be a little balky when it comes to serving my needs. You sometimes have to kick it a few times and adjust the antennae.

#quentin coldwater #the magicians

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earnestly-endlessly · 4 years ago

Note

Hey! I hope I'm not bothering you, I just found your blog and I love it sm, and I saw you sometimes do cherik fic recs. Do you have any Canon divergence aus/fix it, preferably after Cuba, that are 30k or longer and have a happy ending? If not thats okay! You don't have to answer this. Have a wonderful day!

Hi anon, thank you so much. I’m happy you both like my blog and my recs. You are certainly not bothering me, and feel free to send me an ask any time. I have plenty of recommendations for you. Some of them diverge a bit from your request because I couldn’t help but recommend them as well. I will put a note on those who diverge from your request. As always, I only recommend fics I have personally read and enjoyed and I sincerely you love them too.

-Canon divergence aus/fix it, post Cuba, 30k or longer, with a happy ending cherik fic recs-

Not Half As Blinding- keire_ke

Summary: Cuban beach AU. Charles discovers that death does, in fact, solve everything.

Lay down beside me (so still and so soft) – C-Gracewood

Summary: A different take on the events of the film.

Rumor Has It – blueink3

Summary: "Did I hear the doorbell earlier?"

"Yeah, but I'd steer clear if I were you. It seemed a little tense. I don't know what's going on, but there's a kid out there who looks freakily like the prof."

Nearly six months after Cuba, Charles' life is turned upside down for the second time. Though he's slowly learning to adapt to the first, he's not sure he can handle the second. Luckily for him, there are a few people out there more than willing to help.

Forward Momentum – AsYouWish

Summary: Six months after Cuba, Charles and Erik find themselves thrown fifty years into the future, where they meet their older selves, the Avengers, and a world that's very different from their own. Faced with the pieces of their broken relationship, an unparalleled adversary, and dealing with Tony Stark on a daily basis, Charles and Erik do their best to adapt while trying to find a way back home -- and to each other.

When an Unstoppable Force Meets an Immovable Optimist – ToriTC198

Summary: "You are always trying to save me, Charles." Erik mused aloud. "Ever since you dove into the ocean and dragged me out. Did it ever occur to you that I might not be worth saving?"

A genuine smile broke out on Charles' face as he brightly answered, "No, my friend, not once. I have every confidence you are well worth saving. But, I never truly believed I could save you. You are not the sort of man who someone saves. The choice to be a better man has always been yours to make and I hold no illusions that I can make that decision for you. I simply have faith that one day you will save yourself. I only hope I am still at your side to witness it."

What if Erik and Charles had been able to find a middle ground in the end?

Take the First Option – ShowMeAHero

Summary: When Erik becomes unbalanced, Emma presents him with three options: go back to Charles for three months and learn to deal with whatever he has going have going on, lose his Brotherhood, or let Emma control his mind.

He really only has one choice.

Virtue to Which We Aspire – varlovian

Summary: Nine months after Cuba, Charles is found by Erik's Brotherhood in the smoldering ruins of an abandoned CIA base, exhausted but alive. As the only known survivor of the CIA's vendetta against mutants, recovering Charles' memory of the incident—which he admits to having forgotten—just became paramount.

But the harder they push, the closer Charles gets to breaking point. When he finally cracks, the X-Men and the Brotherhood will learn the truth, but it comes with a price...

Some doors, once opened, cannot be closed.

Some minds, once broken, will never be the same again.

The Waking of the Red King – rustingroses

Summary: When Charles' heavy injuries on the Cuban beach conspire to leave him in a coma and living in fantasy of his own making, Erik, the man who once threatened to divide the mutant cause, finds himself desperately trying to hold everything together. First of the Red King trilogy.

Wake Up and Smell the Pancakes – Ayra Sei Ethari

Summary: In one universe, Erik left Charles. In another, he stayed. So what happens when the two Eriks get switched? "At first, Erik thinks he's dreaming. Then he realizes that this is Charles. Who is not paralyzed. And kissing him.

Rage and Serenity – MagickMaker, TheFangedGoblin

Summary: After Charles is shot on the beach, he is rushed to the hospital and paralysis is prevented. Ridden with guilt, Erik finds that he cannot leave him. He helps him heal, and eventually, Charles learns to trust him again. But when they set out to rescue Emma from the CIA and accept her onto their team, tensions rise. Will love keep Erik and Charles together despite their differences?

No Yesterdays on the Road – pocky_slash

Summary: It's been two months since Cuba and things are settling down for Charles, Erik, and the beginnings of their mutant school. Right up until Charles disappears, that is. Faced with the possibility that a bitter Emma Frost has kidnapped Charles, Erik is forced to team up with Moira to hunt down the remainder of the Hellfire Club. From there, they hope to locate Frost and retrieve Charles, without killing each other along the way.

(Or: Erik and Moira Drive Across the Country and Talk About Their Feelings.)

What Can We Do Without You? – SwoopSwoop

Summary: Charles and the boys were holding onto a secret more dear to them than their own lives when Charles disappears into the night; Erik is betrayed and finds himself returning to Westchester in the hopes that the government was just trying to trick him. All the while the boys are stuck in the middle, left guarding the secret from the man they are most afraid of finding out who is weaselling his way back into their lives alarmingly easily.

Note: Includes Mpreg, but don’t let that discourage you from reading it because it’s a really great fix-it.

Survival Instinct – Lindstorm

Summary: It’s been months since Charles pulled Erik out of the ocean, and Erik is beginning to wonder how many more times he can choose Charles, and still keep his vow to kill Shaw. Cooperating with the CIA is straining Erik’s patience. When a fact-gathering mission goes wrong and Charles is kidnapped, Erik is left trying to hold their mutant band together while Raven and the rest of them fall apart. No one can foresee how the mutant Charles meets in captivity will challenge all his assumptions about his own power, and twist Charles’ telepathy out of his control. In the race to stop Shaw's nuclear ambitions from coming to fruition, Charles makes a crucial misstep. Erik’s decision between Shaw and Charles takes on unexpected ramifications when [spoiler deleted].

Needles (Series) – Skull_Bearer

Summary: AU where everyone's born Dominant or Submissive

Once a Dominant and Submissive pair is born, they are linked to each other, no matter how far apart they are. This link doesn't actually tell the Dom or the Sub each other's thoughts, but it does allow them to know how the other's doing and serves as a reassurance that there's someone meant for them out there.

Another one of the reasons that Erik hates Shaw so badly is because Shaw managed to break Erik's link to his Sub. Now Erik doesn't even know if his Sub's alive because breaking a link like that can kill a Submissive.

Meanwhile, Charles hates himself for not yet having telepathy strong enough to contact and help his Dom, especially after feeling the pain his Dom was forced to go through. He truly believes that his Dominant is dead. Hopes it, some nights when he remembers how his Dom was forced to suffer. It's better than to think of his Dom still being forced to bear that pain.

And then Charles pulls Erik from the water

Time to Grow – zarah5

Summary: In which you'll find chess dates which aren't dates (or maybe Charles is wrong about that). -- Based on First Class, this turns (slightly) AU during the beach scene.

Note: This fic is less than 30k words but it’s such a fandom classic and just a great read if you love your fix-its.

Faults for Fixing – beren

Summary: Charles sees the events of the missile crisis and subsequent weeks when he uses Cerebro to touch the mind of a mutant with the power to see the near future. When he wakes up he is determined that he will not allow them to happen and he will not lose the people he loves.

Note: A bit less than 30k words long but another great read.

It’s like one of us woke up – kaydeefalls

Summary: "You came here for me," Charles said, meeting Shaw's gaze levelly. "So let's not waste any more time."

Canon!AU in which Charles and Erik do find Shaw in Russia.

Note: XMFC fix it, but the events in Cuba don’t happen.

Afterlife – Anna (arctic_grey)

Summary: A year after Washington, Erik wakes up in excruciating pain as sudden awareness washes over him: Charles is dead. Erik has to adjust to yet another future: no extinction, just a world without Charles. But the death of his former friend leaves Erik weak and his powers drained. His quest for answers leads him back to Westchester, where Erik has to face his past with Charles and put together the puzzle pieces of what happened to the man he once cared for.

The Burdens We Long to Carry – arcapelago (arcanewinter)

Summary: When mutant-supporter and ally President Kennedy is assassinated and all pro-mutant progress is dismantled, Charles is no longer so confident that he's on the right side, and extends his hand to Erik after a year of animosity. They settle tentatively into their old partnership, but not everything is the same as it was--and not everything can be. When Hank develops a metal frame to move the lower half of Charles' body for him if he wants it, Erik offers the use of his mind and his ability in order to make it work. Both find out what they're willing to do for each other, and neither knows if it'll be enough to keep them together.

Other Futures Than These – midrashic

Summary: In which Cuba doesn't break them apart, but that doesn't mean that their futures are tied together. (Except that it does.)

A Days of Future Past AU where only one person can defeat the Sentinels and save the future: the man whose imprisonment and torture created them, and Charles Xavier's ex.

The Winter of Banked Fires – Yahtzee

Summary: Charles Xavier has returned from the dead -- but is lost within his own mind. Rogue has cast aside her own power and doesn't know where she fits in the world any longer. The production of synthetic Cure means mutantkind itself is newly at risk. And Magneto, turned human against his will, is in despair until the day he feels a familiar consciousness tugging at his own --

Set after X-3 (with much desperate fix-it applied), during XMFC, and every time in between.

#cherik #cherik fic recs #asks #earnestly answers #for some reason Tumblr refuses to post my entire answer #feel free to ask me whenever you want anon #I really love making these lists

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txemrn · 3 years ago

Text

Faded

Book/Pairing: The Royal Romance; Leo x Madeleine

Warning: angst (some dark discussion that would give away the plot); smut 🍋 (awkward, NOT sexy); language

Word Count: 3008 (+/-)

Song Inspiration: Faded by Alan Walker ft. Iselin Solheim (lyrics quoted in the text)

A/N: This is a Royal Roulette, technically, but then again, RR was created specifically for Wacky Drabbles, and I just couldn't get the word count down! Oops! Anyway, this idea came to me when I heard this song, and this story needed to be told. Some of it is canon; some of it is creative canon; some of it, well, we'll call it creativity. lol Any and all of these ideas came from my head, but I acknowledge that others have probably written similar stories (purely coincidental).

Huge special thanks to some of my sweet writing friends: @ao719, @charlotteg234, and @kat-tia801. This took a group effort, and I love you ladies so very much for pre-reading and making this story better. And as always, these characters belong to our friends at Pixelberry!

***

He was a rushing wind; my billowing sails drift me into the unknown, but I don’t care. He’s an incinerating inferno: every tradition I was taught was set ablaze by his touch. My caged heart was unlocked by him; he set the monsters running wild inside of me. In my world of propriety and decorum, he taught me to live; more importantly, he dared me to love.

He broke free: from the customs, our culture, the captivity of our world. He broke free.

Without me. And the mess is all mine to clean up, left with only a picture of our passion--a photo of the love we once shared together. But even that is fading, and will be lost.

I’m alone with my thoughts this morning on my walk. The bite of salt in the coastal breeze tickles my nose, inviting my platinum strands into a carefree dance amongst the sunrise. Adjusting my oversized tortoise-shell sunglasses, my bare toes leave the comfort of the white sand beach only to discover the sting of the barnacle laden steps to the stone jetty. But, the shallow waters never met what I needed. My soul craves to commune with the waves from the deep.

I’m lost; there isn’t enough time in the world to think this through, and yet somehow a decision has to be made. God, where are you now? Was it all in my fantasy? Were you imaginary?

Many described our relationship as ‘destiny’--no, not exactly the romance you read about in foolish fairy tales or hear about in silly love songs. Our families ran in the same spheres of wealth and power. Politics. We are royalty. Since we were close in age, we would spend countless hours together throughout our childhood and teenage years. Being the oldest son to the king, he is--well, he was--the crowned prince of Cordonia; an agreement to our nuptials started well-before my formal training specifically for his social season.

But, something was different about Leo and me. We grew quite fond of each other, a friendship that developed into sharing secret kisses in darkened corners. Was this normal for friendships? Or did we have something deeper? Was this love?

As long as I can remember, I was taught my body was not my own; I was born with a greater purpose, and in that purpose, I would bring honor to my family and my name. I would earn my place in history: a woman who gave of herself everything she could for the sake of a country. Even love.

My reputation is to be held in the highest regard. My efforts in style and wardrobe would be subject to conversation and scrutiny. My eloquence and table etiquette could determine whether or not I’d be fit to be a queen. Every eye movement, every smile, every response could bring honor or dishonor to my family. No one cared about me as long as I presented a pristine package to court, a sacrificial lamb for king and country.

But, when the moment came for me to be chosen as his bride, I felt the swelling of joy inside my chest, bursting like strobes of light for everyone to witness. Suddenly the ideas of ‘the one’ and ‘happily ever after’ that I read about in the great classics teased my senses; I wanted to cry, to scream, to laugh. My body had a sudden thirst, a yearning for him that I didn’t understand.

In my innocence, this could only be one thing.

“Countess Madeleine,” he knowingly grins, “will you do me this honor?”

Swallowing thickly, her jade eyes flutter open at the sound of her name. In a handsomely fit tux, adorning his family colors in full regalia, her future husband, the future king of Cordonia, takes a knee to present the stunning canary solitaire. The dread melts away as the butterflies overcome her nerves.

Keeping with propriety, she nods her head while curtly dabbing away tears. But, something is distracting her: she is to be relishing in her accomplishment of winning the honor, for winning all of the glory, for winning the crown. She is to be the next queen of Cordonia.

But she is overwhelmed by all thoughts of him, her husband-to-be, the father to their future children. Suddenly the life she had been training for didn’t matter; she was betrothed and in love.

Smoothing out the tightness of my heathered linen pants, I take a moment to stare at my empty ring finger. I feel soreness from the collection of tears, but I refuse to allow anymore drop on his behalf. Today is hard enough.

I hug my body, remembering the warmth of his intimate touch. I had kept myself pure for him. Until that night.

Within an hour of making his intentions known to the court, Leo scurries away with his future bride, leaving only a trail of giggles and whispers along the way to his chambers.

Shrugging off his jacket, Leo presses her petite body against the locked door. His hand gently cradles her head, his thumb tracing the length of her jaw. His lips hungrily search hers, wolfishly devouring her mouth before she can react.

“Is this okay?” he whispers under his breath, his smoldering gaze entraps her innocent eyes. Breathlessly focused on his swelling lips, she nods her head dutifully.

He places his hands on her waist before sliding them intently back onto the curves of her ass, grabbing at her fullness under her whimper. A growl becomes his breathing, staring at his prey.

“Do you love me, my future queen?”

Love. Was that love?

The hypnotic rise and fall of the waves is starting to sour my stomach, but the ocean spray is so inviting and calming on my clammy skin. Finding a smooth stone, I seek refuge from the surge of the sea’s tantrum. Relaxing under the gentle rays of the morning sunshine, I close my eyes, only to see him.

He cheats her out of her next breath, his tongue overwhelming her mouth. His eager fingers find the zipper to her ballgown. He paws at her back, his fingers brushing against the secret skin of her body.

Her bra tosses to the wayside; admiring his new found treasure, Leo’s hands plunder her supple curves. His mouth plummets to her hardening nipples, his teeth teasing her nerves with fear. The sudden twinge of pleasure thrashes her head against the door.

“Shall I continue, beautiful?” he exhales, catching his breath; but, before an answer is uttered, he stumbles back into the temptation of her perfect body. His fingers tease across the waistband of her petal pink briefs; her eyes cinch closed, her mouth unable to hold back a moan.

“Someone is enjoying themselves,” he chuckles, standing to tower over her. He kisses her cheek, leaning his mouth close to her ear. “Is this what you want?” He tucks a strand behind her ear.

“Mhmm,” her lips curl slightly, leaning into his touch.

“Do you like what I am doing for you?”

“Yes,” she softly groans.

“Yeah?” He reaches into her panties, her knees buckling to the wandering of his fingers. “Mmmm,” he pulls his hand out, licking his fingertips, “that’s my good girl. You love my touch.” He stands back, shaking off her body. Locking his eyes with hers, he casually steps backwards until he reaches the bed. He slides off his belt, unfastening his slacks.

“Come here,” he motions for her to step closer. “Show me your love for me.”

Madeleine’s eyes focus on his growing girth, bulging from his unzipped pants; but, then her gaze darts around the room. Surely he knows that she isn’t well-versed in such endeavors.

“Maddie?” he combs his fingers through her blonde tresses. “I love you. You know that, right?”

She closes her eyes. The words send a jolt of happiness through her veins. She was experiencing love. She was prepared for everything else, but this?

"Then, let me show you,” he growls, pushing her back onto the bed. Hungrily ripping off her panties, he exposes her to his touch. Youthful and pure. "Are you ready?"

He spreads her legs apart, her thighs trembling. She grips the sheets with her tiny fists. Her doe-like eyes stare into his hunting blues as she feels him touch her again; but this time, it wasn't his fingers.

With an inexperienced push of his hips, red flashes before Madeleine's eyes as she squints her eyes in pain, hiding the gathering of tears. He thrusts again; her teeth gnash at the breaking of her body. Her head thrashes back and forth, groaning as she serves a penance under his rhythmic plunges into her warm, narrow core again and again. Harder and harder. Faster. Deeper.

Without warning, the beating of her body stops, leaving her stretched, completely filled with him. Moaning her name in the company of obscenities, his breathing becomes quick and shallow despite his efforts to slow down. Sweat gathers across his brow as he savors the delicate tightness of her depths. Stumbling into his ecstasy, he loses control, pouring himself into her. The sudden rush of fullness makes her whimper, the sting begins to dull as a smile crawls across her face. His lips meet her soft, glowing skin. Finally, it’s over.

That night: it was so long ago. But, I can still feel it; I can still feel him. The smell and taste of him lingers on my tongue. I miss him.

And with that, my breathing labors as I choke out a sob. I press the back of my hand to my lips as tears cloud my vision from the Mediterranean horizon. A sour pang creeps up my throat as I cradle my tender belly with my other hand. Clenching my eyes closed, I hope to hold back the downpour of tears from my soul. God, please not again.

Madeleine's head rests on Leo's shoulder, his strong arm securely around her exposed body. Her marigold diamond catches the pale moonlight perfectly, it's brilliance mesmerizing the bride-to-be as she subtly teeters her hand on his well-structured chest. He suddenly engulfs her hand with his. Turning towards him, her lips meet his perfectly like the final piece of the puzzle, locking seamlessly in place.

"Runaway with me, Madeleine."

The flecks of evergreen in her eyes sparkle with curiosity. "What--?"

"This life, Maddie," he gently rubs her back, "is this really the life that you want-- that you'd want for us?"

She sits up, taken aback from the peculiar question. "You mean the life we're living right now? Us? Being engaged?”

“Yes--I mean, no. I--” Leo stumbles over his words, dragging his hand across his face. “I love you, and I want to be with you--” he pushes a platinum strand behind her ear, “--but do you ever wonder what it’s like out there? Out in the real world? Away from all of this pressure? Away from all of these rules?”

“Away from the public eye? Living life--” she titters into a big smile, “--like everyday people?"

"Yes." He sighs, pressing her hand against his heart. "Before long, we will be in charge. In charge, Maddie. Of an entire country." There is a quake in his voice, a quiver that even makes her feel chilled. "I don’t think I’m cut out for this,” a breath hitches in his chest. “Will I even be a good king?"

“Of course," she whispers, offering a doting smile, “Of course, Leo," her voice becomes stronger, authoritative. “You can do this. You were made for this. And while, yes, you are the king, you’re not alone.” She laces her fingers with his. “You’ll always have me. You have my support--” she kisses the back of his hand, “and most of all, you have my love.” She leans down to kiss his hand again, but rather he captures her in his arm, bringing her to his lips, making her squeal.

“I love you, Madeleine.”

She moans into his pout as he kisses her once more. “I love you, too, Leo.”

The creaminess to his baritone voice dissipates from my memory, fading away much like our love. How could I have been so foolish? I gave him everything--I promised him everything. My life, my whole existence was for him, and I naively thought that love would somehow stitch us together, that somehow we would be the monarchs that did have it all. Wealth. Power. Love. A happily-ever-after that could join the rankings of the greatest love stories ever told.

But, it wasn't enough. I wasn't enough.

The sudden rapping on the door abruptly wakes Madeleine from a deep sleep. The sunlight pours mercilessly through the windows as she grabs the sheets to cover herself.

The door suddenly tramples open, Constantine bounding first into the room, followed by his head guard Bastien. “Where is he? Where’s Leo?” The king sneers as the blonde trips out of bed, reaching for clothing. “For God’s sakes, couldn’t you two show some fucking self-control?”

Madeleine cinches the high-thread-count sheet around her body, leaving her slender shoulders and décolleté exposed. As a blush crawls across her face, the question begins to haunt her: where is Leo? He wasn’t in bed this morning. In fact, his clothes are missing from their disheveled heap that was next to her discarded dress. His watch and cell phone were missing from the bedside table. But, otherwise everything seemed to be in place.

Madeleine rushes to the ensuite bathroom, hoping to find a logical clue to Leo’s whereabouts there.

"Call him. Now," the king growls at the anxious countess.

"He's not answering us, Countess Madeleine. We assume given your current relationship with his majesty--" Madeleine nods in understanding.

"I'm sorry, but the phone number you're trying to reach has been disconnected or is no longer in service."

Her eyebrows furrow as she ends the call. "I--I--I don't understand," she stammers, rubbing her forehead with her fingers. "His phone has been disconnected--"

"Fucking ungrateful--” growls Constantine, ripping the phone from Madeleine's tiny hand, “--selfish son of a bitch!" He throws the phone against the wall, shattering it into pieces. He gruffly turns towards his future daughter-in-law. “Are you certain you dialed the right number?" He spits. Madeleine braces herself against a wall, turning her face away from him. She carefully nods, refusing to make eye contact. “Unbelievable!” Constantine knocks over some antique silver candelabras before exiting the room, leaving Bastien behind.

“Sir?’ Madeleine quietly calls to the guard, drawing closer to him, ensuring her body is covered. “What is all the commotion about? Where is Leo?”

“Leo failed to report to his morning engagements about last night festivities. According to our cameras, he left this morning through the northwest gate in an unmarked black Sudan around o’four hundred hours.”

Madeleine cups her mouth as she stumbles to sit down on the bed. She nervously combs her fingers through her tangled tresses. “What does this mean?” She spouts nervously, her body shaking with tears gathering in her eyes.

“Please try not to worry, ma’am,” Bastien carefully places a comforting hand on her bare shoulder, quickly withdrawing it when their eyes awkwardly meet at the gesture. “Um--” he clears his throat, “--I don’t know what he’s doing, but we will find him.” He turns on his heel to leave Madeleine alone when suddenly a thought hits him. “By any chance, did he mention anything to you?”

‘Runaway with me, Madeleine.’ One simple request. He asked me to just simply follow him. I thought he was joking or simply making a hypothetical request due to his uneasy nerves; but, my love for him aside, this was my calling: to serve him. If I had chosen to honor him rather than challenge him… if I had chosen to remind him of responsibility and duty rather than trying to win him over with ludicrous ideas of love in marriage…

Leo abdicated the throne.

No one speaks about royalty relinquishing their responsibilities. We’re born into this; we were made to do this. We spend our entire lives preparing, being told that it is an honor to bear such greatness, it is an honor to host such power. No one speaks of the alternative. Truth be told: if we knew there was a way to escape, to renounce such a life as this, how many of us would take that chance?

It’s been seven weeks since that awful morning. Seven weeks of silence and darkness. Seven weeks of broken dreams and false hope. Seven weeks of only one absolution: Leo had found his freedom. He wasn't coming back.

I pull out the photograph of our love just one more time as the tears gather once more in my eyes. Leo’s last words to me were ‘I love you;’ but somehow as I trace my fingers amongst the black and white print, I have to say, ‘goodbye’ for both of us this morning.

“Ms. Amaranth?”

“Yes, ma’am?” Madeleine wakes from her daydream, her voice trembling. She chews incessantly on her nails as her crossed legs bounce nervously. The sterile white walls around her seem to be closing in around her; the air grows thick, stifling. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

The dark brunette stands to come closer to the blonde. She straightens out her white coat while fixing an endearing smile on her face. She sits down next to Madeleine, taking her hand. “I asked if you are sure about this decision?”

If Madeleine had learned anything in the past two months, it's that she could only be sure about nothing. She stares at her bobbing toe, hypnotically entranced with the clicking of the clock in the exam room.

“There are other options," the doctor continues. "Adoption. Keeping the baby.”

I tear up the ultrasound picture in my hands, letting the wind chase it to the sea. The tattered pieces drift for a place to rest, sinking to the depths my soul will forever crave, a secret place far too precious for this world. For my world.

Goodbye, love.

***

Tag List (please please please let me know if you need to be added or removed!): @ao719 @bbrandy2002 @burnsoslow @charlotteg234 @chemist-ana @choiceskatie @dcbbw @forallthatitsworth @gkittylove99 @glaimtruelovealways @iaminlovewithtrr @jessiembruno @kat-tia801 @khoicesbyk @lovelyladyk88 @lucy-268 @mainstreetreader @neotericthemis @nestledonthaveone @phoenixrising308 @sfb123 @shannonwrote @shewillreadyou @taniasethi @texaskitten30 @thefrenchiemama @twinkleallnight @yourmajesty09

#the royal romance #choices the royal romance #leo x madeleine #royal roulette #choices fanfiction #choices trr

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andromedasstarship · 4 years ago

Text

in the stars - chapter 1

photo credit: @ssahotchnerr

pairing - aaron hotchner x reader

warnings - canon-typical criminal minds violence, show rating 16+ for reference. depictions of violence, stalking, murder, angst, age gap couple, drinking, brief mention of drugs.

summary - You finally meet the BAU, little progress is made in terms of the case.

a/n - early update yay! i take a lot of liberties with movies that reader has starred in, pls dont take irl movie release dates into consideration here lol. more notes at the end

blog rules

masterlist // read it on ao3 here

prologue // next chapter

-----

Chapter 1

Flights to California always took an extra toll on the team. Reid had explained it once, in a too long ramble, how the wind worked against the plane lengthening the flight at least an hour longer than the trip back home.

Hotch was finding it difficult to focus on the files in front of him. The first photo he opened was of victim #3, with her eyes closed and face turned to the side, even Hotch could’ve been fooled that it was you lying there dead. While the rest of the team was mulling over the facts of the case, he was debating whether or not to tell the team about your history. The Unit Chief in him knew this was important information that had the potential to hinder the case; his relationship to you was too personal and his withholding of information could even turn him into a suspect. If the roles had been reversed with another member of the team, he’d have concerns over their ability to even be on the case. For now, Hotch forced himself to tune into the conversation the rest of the team was having; promising himself he’d figure out what to do later.

“Garcia, what do we know about L/N,” Emily asked, turning ever so slightly towards the screen Garcia had just popped up on.

“I’m glad you asked my dear Emily. Y/N L/N is totally Hollywood’s It Girl right now, it’s rumored you can’t even get a meeting with her without forking over at least twenty big ones. She’s never had a bad role in her career. Personally, my favorite movie she starred in was Mamma Mia, but like I said never a bad role,” Garcia paused for a moment, the sound of her typing filling the silence, “is it inappropriate for me to ask one of you to get her signature for-”

“Garcia,” Rossi interjected, “anything else we need to know about her right now?”

“Sorry sir, I promise to be on my best professional behavior. But come on, remember when she swept the Oscars three years-”

Hotch felt himself detach from the conversation yet again, staring out the window as memories of the two of you flooded his brain.

Three Years Ago

The team had just finished a grueling case in Georgia. It was long, taking nearly two weeks to catch the unsub, in which he had managed to murder three additional couples right under their noses. Inclement weather forced them to stay another night until the storm passed, leaving them all stranded by the airport. In a turnaround way, being stuck gave them the rare opportunity to relax and bond as a team. Rather than all disappear to their own rooms for the night, they all packed into one small hotel room. Boxes of Chinese takeout were littered around the room, along with various bottles of alcohol. The Oscars were on that night and Hotch knew you’d be on the screen at some point, not wanting to miss it he proposed watching it to the team and they all happily agreed. While it was difficult with their schedules to be avid movie goers, they all were relatively familiar with the contenders for big awards such as Best Picture and Best Actor.

You were nominated for two separate awards that night, along with starring in a film nominated for Best Picture. It had been a monumental year for you, with three separate feature films hitting theaters and all becoming major successes both financially and socially. You had spent so much time jet setting for press conferences and movie tours that you rivaled Aaron in terms of suitcase living.

“Everyone shut up! They’re about to do Best Supporting Actress, oh I just know it’s going to be Y/N. Emily agree with me! We saw her in Little Women together, I cried. Oh don’t give me that look Emily, you cried too and you know it!” Penelope said enthusiastically, waving her chopsticks around. It was rare that Garcia ever came with on a case, but the location had been in a remote part of the state and they wanted to avoid being unable to reach her and her technical wizardry; a fact she was particularly grateful for, had this watch party been happening without her, she would’ve been so jealous.

To anyone else, the grin on Hotch’s face would have been easily equated to the bickering going on between his friends and the effects of the few drinks he had thrown back. It was all for you though, he had caught glimpses of you on screen throughout the night and had snuck more than one glance at his phone to see the pictures of your outfit you’d sent him yourself. When the presenters walked on stage, Hotch sat up a bit straighter, his body naturally inching closer to the edge of his seat. The screen set up so the faces of all nominees and their reactions could be seen, Hotch’s eyes glued to the box you were in.

“And the winner of Best Supporting Actress goes to…,” the first presenter started, slowly opening the envelope they held, “Y/N L/N!” The crowd roared and the camera focused in on you sitting stunned in your seat, surrounded by coworkers and friends. The team was cheering too, the liquor in their system loosening everyone up. Hotch clapping uncharacteristically loud and long even went unnoticed by the others.

“I was right, I knew it!! I should start betting on this, you know what I bet I could hack into the system-” Garcia’s voice barely even registered in Hotch’s brain as he watched you. With one hand clasped over your mouth and the other holding your dress you made your way up the stairs and to the center of the stage.

“Wow,” you started, eyes wide as you stared down at the award in your hands, slowly you looked back up into the crowd and continued, “I really mean it when I say I wasn’t expecting this. I didn’t even prepare a speech, I’m so sorry,” you paused again, the biggest smile plastered on your face as you quickly wiped a few tears threatening to fall, “thank you all so much, for supporting me and letting me do what I love. Thank you to my fellow coworkers who pushed me in this project and thank you so much to the fans who give me the strength to do this every day. Thank you! Thank you so much!” You ended, making your way back towards your seat. Hotch grinned as you flashed a wide smile to the camera following you, throwing a flirty winky that he knew was just for him.

The rest of the night went by in a blur. When you won again for Best Actress, you were barely able to contain yourself on stage, tears flowing freely down your face as you gave your thanks. The joy you felt in that moment was unlike anything you’d ever experienced in your life. At just 24, you had become the first person ever to win both awards in the same night. Hotch had actually jumped out of his seat at your second win, a motion that confused the rest of the team, but the liquor in everyone’s system forced them to ignore it; more glad than anything to see Hotch loosening up for once.

After the team finally retreated into their own rooms for the night, Hotch wasted no time in texting you, asking if you were free to talk on the phone. His excitement palpable when not even a minute later your contact came up on the screen.

“Aaron,” your excited voice came through the phone, just being able to hear you eased tension he wasn’t even aware he had been carrying, “can you believe it!”

“Congratulations, Miss Double Oscar winner.” Even after a year of being together, his voice made you giddy. “Where are you?” He asked, unable to ignore the pounding sound of music and people in the background.

“After party, top secret location Mr. Agent. I’m in the bathroom! Am I allowed to tell you I definitely see some residue of a line on the counter,” your voice was slurred and rushed, the energy of the moment combined with the liquor in your system causing your mouth to move faster than your brain, “probably not, ignore that. Where are you?”

Aaron relayed various info about closing the case and what the team had gotten up to that night. When you began telling him about your night, he couldn’t help but feel insecure. Where he told you about $8 takeout meals and rural Georgia, you were talking about some of the biggest names in Hollywood and the luxury treatment you’d been subject to all night. He forced himself to focus on your voice anyway; not wanting to take this time ‘with’ you for granted. The two of you could’ve talked for hours, had it not been for Hotch pushing you to go enjoy the celebrations.

“I’m so proud of you angel,” he said softly, voice swelling with adoration, “I’ll see you soon, I promise.”

“I love you Aaron.”

“I love you too Y/N.”

When he finally hung up, he leaned against the wall with a sigh, running his hands through his hair. Relationship wise, it had been a tough year for the two of you. With your schedule busier than you’d ever expected, it meant seeing each other in person was nearly impossible. In good conscience you refused to take him away from Jack on the rare weekends he had off. Instead you’d fly in whenever possible, the two of you spending low profile nights together in fancy hotels or his house if Jack was away with friends. It was excruciating maintaining a relationship like this, but something about the success of the night made the sacrifices feel worth it.

Present Day

“Look into her dating history, any exes that would want to hurt her?” JJ asked, her question pulling Hotch back into the present. Adjusting to the constant publicity you were subject to had been a learning curve for Hotch, the first time the tabloids ran a story of you photographed with some Hollywood Hunk his bad mood had the entire team walking on eggshells for a week.

“According to my search she hasn’t dated anyone in years, or at least not publicly. I have a theory she’s secretly dating Henry Ca-.” Hotch zoned back out before Garcia could finish, having no interest in hearing or seeing whoever the media was speculating to be involved with you this time. Willing the plane to land faster, he ignored the faint voice in the back of his head that was telling him you were free to be with whoever you wanted.

----

“If you’d follow me Miss L/N, the BAU has set up in the back conference room, they’ve been waiting for you.” Officer Reynolds said, her back to you as you followed her down the hallway. It was nearly 9am and you had spent the better half of the morning hyping yourself up to see Aaron for the first time in nearly two years. You made last second adjustments to your outfit; an outfit you definitely hadn’t spent all of last night picking out because you definitely did not want to look good for Aaron Hotchner. As Officer Reynolds moved to open the door you held your breath, thanking the years of experience in manipulating your outward expressions. When four heads turned in unison to look at you, you let out a sigh of relief. Aaron wasn’t in the room.

“This is Y/N L/N. Miss L/N, meet the BAU,” Officer Reynolds said, extending her arm outwards towards the rest of the room, “I’ll leave you guys to do introductions, if you need anything, find me,” and with that she exited the room. A blonde woman stepped forward first, extending her hand out to you. You knew who she was before she even said her name.

“My name is Jennifer Jareau, I’m the media liaison with the BAU.” She said, she gave you the same smile all the other officers had been giving you, but unlike theirs that reeked of pity, something in Jennifer’s felt authentic to you. After shaking hands with her, the rest of the room took a moment to introduce themselves. You never thought you’d meet Aaron’s team like this. Over the years, he had shown you countless photos of the team, along with hundreds of stories and tidbits concerning their lives. Even though you knew they had probably spent the entire flight to LA looking at your life, it still felt as if you had some creepy advantage over the situation.

“The rest of our team, Agents Hotchner and Morgan, are currently doing some research in the field, but until they return we’d love to brief you and ask you a few questions, is that alright?” JJ asked, stepping backwards and motioning for you to take a seat at the round table.

“Of course,” you quickly replied, moving to take a seat; internally you were laughing at the irony of her asking if it was alright, what would you do, say no? Looking up at the other three members still standing you motioned for them to sit as well, “I don’t know if you’re doing it on purpose, but I’d prefer if you all sat down too,” you paused, before adding, “kinda makes me feel like I’m back at school.” They seemed to smile at that, everyone else moving to find a seat at the table. Before the silence could turn uncomfortable, JJ spoke up again.

“Does anyone else in your life know about the murders?”

You shook your head no before replying, “my agent knows just in case I have to go underground and my security guard is aware, but besides them and the police, I haven’t told anyone.”

“Go underground?”

“Uh yea, a few years ago I had a stalker. I went ‘underground’ for about three months and the guy seemed to give up. The police have already cleared him, he hasn’t been to LA in over a year,” you explained.

“That’s good to know. We want to keep your involvement in the case completely out of the media. I can only imagine you want that too,” JJ started, angling her body towards you, “I know you’re probably more than well versed in dealing with the press, but if anyone comes up to you asking about the murders we want you to completely disengage. And of course, don’t tell anyone else about what’s going on.”

“Alright, now that that’s settled, we just have a couple questions for you,” Emily asked as she stood up, opening up a file from the table, “so what can you tell us about-”

----

The dump site wasn’t showing any promise. Situated near a highway, the field was hidden from the road, yet still accessible by car. The constant stir caused by the speeding cars meant any leftover DNA or footprints were effectively blown away.

“Our guy’s gotta be fit. The drop into the field is just steep enough he would’ve had to carry the body at least fifty feet to get it here from the road. He could’ve rolled it, but the bodies were too pristine to have been dropped on the ground like that.” Derek said, looking over at Hotch. The two of them were standing at the edge of the road, looking down at the now empty field. “Not only that, but this is a nice spot. Normally places like this so close to a highway are filled with trash, do you think he might’ve cleaned up?”

Hotch was silent as he considered this, before slowly nodding, “it’d make sense if he did. Everything we have concerning his treatment to the victims post mortem has been nothing but affectionate.”

“Do you think there could be two unsubs?” Derek asked, when Hotch looked at him with mild confusion he continued, “All the victims were strangled to death, ME report assumes it was by hand. It takes a lot of strength and persistence to kill someone by hand like that, not only that but it’s intimate, he’s staring them in the face as he kills them. The level of care displayed here seems way more than just remorse.”

Hotch took another moment to consider Derek’s proposition before shaking his head, “we’ll keep it in mind, but it’s clear whatever connection he has to L/N is personal, at least to him. These women could be failing to replicate some part of her personality and in his rage he kills them. But when they’re silent and unmoving, their likeness to L/N lets him fall back into the fantasy, hence the care.”

“We should start heading back, Reid just texted me they’re almost done with the initial briefing with L/N, and we should meet her before she takes off for the day.” Derek said, putting his phone back in his pocket before turning on his heel to head back to the car. Hotch’s shoulders tensed at the idea of seeing you, looking back at the field once more. Giving the field one last look, he felt a shiver run up his spine at the idea of finding you in a field like this. Shaking the idea out of his, he turned to join Derek in the car.

Hotch took the driver's seat, glad to be able to use the road as a needed distraction from the impending face to face. The drive was only twenty minutes, but Hotch didn’t think any time would truly be long enough to prepare himself to see you again. He found himself wondering if anything would be different from the last time he saw you. Did you still smell the same? You had always been quite adamant about your preference for scented lotion, rather than perfumes. What if you completely changed your hair? Were you worrying about seeing him as much as he was?

“You think she’s gonna be easy to work with?” Derek asked, breaking Hotch out of his mental spiral.

“What do you mean?”

“Y/N, you know, “Hollywood’s It Girl”,” Derek explained, “if she’s as in demand as Garcia said she was-”

“While we work this case Morgan, I expect you to conduct yourself appropriately,” Hotch interjected, his voice tight, “we treat Y/N the way we would anyone else, do I make myself clear?” His eyes not leaving the road at all, knuckles tight around the steering wheel.

“Crystal,” Derek responded, raising his hands up in mock surrender.

As they turned into the parking lot, Hotch scanned the parking lot before finally noticing your car parked in the back of the lot. You used to always park as far as you could, constantly complaining about how people in parking lots stressed you out and you wanted to be able to drive in and out as easy as possible. The corners of his lips turned up, ever so slightly, thinking maybe nothing had really changed for you, at least in that regard.

“You go ahead, I’m just going to send a message to Jack real quick,” Hotch lied, pulling his phone from his pocket. Derek nodded and got out of the car, quickly entering the building. Hotch put his phone down in his lap and gripped the steering wheel once more. You were one of the few people to ever wind him up this way; it had been like that from the first day he met you, as if you managed to make him melt under your gaze. Five minutes, he would give himself five minutes to pull himself together before letting the Unit Chief in him take over.

----

“I’m sorry, I just, can I take a break,” you asked, looking up at the agents who were still grilling you about facets of your life you never would’ve considered relevant, “I just need to get some air.” Without really waiting for permission, you were pushing back on your chair to stand up. Slinging on your thin jacket you exited the room, heading for the entrance of the building. The agents had been kind, but you were starting to feel a bit useless. Each time they had a new theory, you came up short in terms of material for them to actually use. They kept reassuring you that what you were able to come up with was helpful, but you weren't convinced.

You had been in and out of this office so many times, your body went into autopilot as you made your way to the entrance, not even pausing to look up as you started to push open the door. What you missed was the distinct outline of a body pulling the door open at the same time. The added force made you stumble, nearly crashing straight into the man on the other side. Brown eyes met yours and you both froze, uncertain of what to say before speaking at the same time.

“Y/N.”

“Agent.”

-----

a/n - wow wow! things are gonna start moving in the next chapter, i promise. the response to ‘in the stars’ so far has been so heartwarming. ive said it before, but this is my first fic and i cant even fathom that people are actually interested in what im writing. your support means the world! im trying to get stuff written before university starts up again, but i dont want to nix quality for faster updates so if updates slow down im sorry! comments always appreciated. leave a reply or ask if youd like to be added to the taglist! if you requested before but arent added, just ask again i mustve missed it on accident

Taglist: @mac99martin @iwaizumiee @kylorendrip @hqtchner @lieswithoutfairytales @ssahoodrathotchner @midsummernightdream @weasleylovers @evans-dejong

no permission is given to republish or upload my fics anywhere else. if you see this story not on my tumblr or ao3 it is stolen work. i do not own criminal minds or any of the characters involved

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #criminal minds fanfiction #hotchner #in the stars #'stori writes #in the stars chapter 1

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the-pale-goddess · 4 years ago

Text

Breakfast at Tiffany’s - Ethan Ramsey x MC (Tiffany Addams)

Tiffany surprises Ethan with a fancy breakfast.

It’s all cute until it turns to filth. Then it’s fluff again. Aaaaand back to slutty. A three-course, self-indulgent breakfast, if I may convey.

Rating/Category: Explicit / smut with a side of fluff

Warnings: p*rn with no plot, language

Author’s note: Coming back to my OH2 more or less canon fic business!

Here’s the smutty part of the little band aid I promised for all the harm I’ve done to you with Home With You AU. I just wanted to give you something sweet before we proceed with the emotional rollercoaster in Chapter 3...Well, I did my best, but my filthy mind would never allow me to write some pure and innocent fluff 😅 Hope it’s not too slutty for you lol You’ve been warned!

Please, forgive me the title - I just saw the opportunity and I took it lol

____

Ethan opened his eyes with a sinking feeling this Thursday would be out of the new ordinary. His bed was cold and empty. There was no cascade of black hair unwittingly waking him up with a gentle tickle on his skin, no tender caress begging him to stay in the sheets a tad longer.

Another surprise awaited when an overfamiliar appetizing smell hit his nostrils, forcing him to rush out of bed in order to investigate the unexpected scene.

The missing piece of Ethan's morning routine was dancing her way through the kitchen, wreaking sweet havoc with a pile of dirty dishes and different ingredients scattered all over the kitchen island, just to cook a tower of flawlessly fluffy pancakes – now proudly placed on display near the oven. They looked perfect, but not as perfect as Tiffany in the weak morning light; her dark wavy hair falling down on bare shoulders, in contrast to the lacy white lingerie set that flaunted all her curves. She was swinging to the tune she whistled to herself, oblivious of the lurking admirer.

„I don't think I'll ever get used to this view.” Ethan's voice got her spinning around in a flutter to face him. He was leaning against the fridge, an adoring smile playing on his lips as his eyes were roaming over her silhouette. She flushed furiously under the intensity of his gaze, trying to hide the sudden clumsiness of her movements with a sheepish beam.

„Your girlfriend cooking breakfast for you in nothing but her underwear?”

He eyed her intently, biting his bottom lip before he answered with a poker face. „My kitchen in disarray.”

Tiffany shook her head incredulously, as she strained the freshly made raspberry sauce through a sieve. „Trust me, it'll be worth it. And don't worry, I'll clean everything up later, Doctor Terminator.”

„It already is.” He pulled her body close to his, causing her back to collide with his chest. „I can't believe you're still using that nickname.”

„You have to admit it's catchy.”

„Mhm. Do you need any help?” His arm draped over her shoulder, hugging her tight.

„Sure. There's a dozen of pancakes waiting for you. Hope you're ready for a sweet death topped with whipped cream and a home-made raspberry sauce.”

„I didn't plan on falling into a food coma, but you had me at pancakes. Meaning yes, I'm ready.” The powerful combination of Ethan's soft lips and his scratchy chin glued to the sensitive skin on her neck, peppering her with featherlike kisses.

„Someone's clingy today.” She gave him a loud peck on his forearm.

„I'm starving, Tiffany.” A husky whisper rolled in her ear, the words followed by a gentle bite that sent a red-hot shiver down her spine. She chuckled to herself.

„Good! I was genuinely scared that you'd hate the idea because of your love-hate relationship with pancakes. The sauce will need a few minutes to cool down a bit, and then – Oh!” Tiffany stopped dead in her tracks when the hard evidence of Ethan's hunger pangs pressed against her butt. She dropped her jaw in surprise, slightly amused by the realization she didn't get the hint quite right – it was a different kind of appetite. She spun round to face him, the wicked smile suggested she was more than eager to play along.

„On second thought, I suppose we can have a taste of what will be served today.” Never breaking the gaze, she dipped her finger in the whipped cream and offered it to Ethan. He licked it clean, keenly watching Tiffany's face turn crimson red.

„Not bad for a mixture of fat and sugar. Though it's far from what I expected to be on the menu.” Tiffany raised her brows, fake offended, her expression elicited a hearty chuckle from Ethan.

„Well, aren't you a picky eater, Doctor Ramsey? Luckily, I came prepared.” Her finger dived into the bowl with raspberry sauce. „Try some of this.”

„Mmm, delicious.” He gushed, his tongue slithering around her finger. „But yet again...That's not what I crave the most.”

”I wonder what would that be...” She bit her lip seductively as she reached for Ethan's hand. He swallowed loud and moved a bit closer just when she slipped his thumb into her mouth. The provocative movement had his imagination run wild. „Aren't you gonna tell me?”

„Tiffany, I...” Ethan failed to articulate his thought, too absorbed in sinful visions almost melting his brain.

„Tell me what do you crave, Ethan.” She demanded and he suddenly felt even weaker. His thumb got trapped in her mouth again, her other hand massaging his inner thigh through the material of his pants.

„You.” His voice dripped with wild need.

„How do you want me?” Tiffany released the thumb with a heady pop, holding his stare the entire time.

„I want to...”

„Do you want to come in my mouth?” She used his finger to brush her bottom lip, then grazed it with her teeth mere seconds later.

„Fuck...Yes, please.” He muttered, pressing his forehead together with hers.

Smiling magnetically from ear to ear, Tiffany crashed into Ethan, kissing him hungrily with their tongues twisted together. The prelude wouldn't last long, and in a flash she moved down his body – already hot and shivering with primal need. Her lips glided over every inch of his skin, placing open-mouthed kisses along the way. Just when she was low enough, she flipped her hair and dropped on her knees, pulling his pants down with her.

Ethan could swear that the very sight of her mischievous smile dancing around his throbbing cock was enough to make him come. He shuddered in tense anticipation as he watched her tease him with graceful strokes of her tongue wandering around his abdomen.

„Could you...” A tantalizing base-to-tip lick shut him up on the spot and took his breath away. She followed the same path with a soft touch of her lips, quietly humming with relish. His hips bucked involuntarily, overpowered by the tender sensation, begging for more.

The unspoken request was yet to be fulfilled – her slim fingers began stroking him at the base, while her mouth covered the sensitive tip. He groaned in response, his body temperature rising to a dangerously high level. His hand instinctively tugged at her hair, tying any defiant locks in his handy grip.

When Tiffany slid his whole length into her luscious mouth, the divine warmth took away the last bit of control he had, and made him gasping for air. Fighting back the tears was a feeble effort with his huge member hitting her throat, but she rose to the challenge, gagging violently before she adjusted to a safe and steady rhythm.

Ethan marvelled at the view of her watery emerald eyes gazing into his blues as she sucked him like her life depended on it, her precise tongue and skillful hand working him up to a blissful fever. The overwhelming feeling of pleasure had him moan ecstatically, bringing him on the verge of madness. Encouraged by the guttural sounds reserved only for her, she quickened the pace, bobbing her head up and down. His muscles reacted in an instant, tensing even harder, demanding an immediate release. A few moments later, he reached his high and spilled inside her mouth; the obscene groan of his climax ringing in her ears like a favorite song. She took the load with a triumphant smirk, swallowing every drop.

„This is grossly unfair.” He leaned on the nearest countertop awestruck, satiated and out of breath, struggling to keep himself standing.

„What is?” She got up, climbing up his body, and bit down on his shoulder blade.

„The power you have over me.”

Tiffany grinned, pressing her cheek to his broad back as she wrapped her arms around his chest. „But you did like the first course of your breakfast, didn't you?”

„I haven't eaten anything yet.” Ethan turned around, falling into her embrace with a pointed look.

„All right, I'll fill you up with these pancakes now.” Chuckling softly, Tiffany took a step back, seemingly ready to start the day, but Ethan kept her in place by holding her wrist. A gleam of lust reappeared in his eyes as he was slowly regaining his energy.

„Pancakes can wait a little longer. Let me eat you out.”

Before she managed to form a sentence, Ethan's fingers skimmed through her back and unclasped her bra, tossing it to the ground. His greedy hands began exploring her body, tracing her curves, only to slide his fingers behind her panties and pull them off, so they would share the fate of the bra.

„You know that I've never really understood the purpose of art, but looking at this absolute masterpiece right in front of me?” Tiffany raised her brows in surprise, returning his worshipful gaze. „I think I might modify my stance.”

„Wait, is that an actual compliment, or you're quoting some lines from the poetry book you'll soon be releasing?” They both snorted with laughter that quickly died when their lips fused in the hastiest, sloppiest kiss.

„I'll let you win this one, you deserve it.”

„Oh, what a lucky day!” She chirped in sarcastic tone. Ethan shook his head and lunged for her neck, sucking at her skin.

When his lips abruptly broke away from her, she yelped in protest, but little did she know what Ethan had in store for her. The burning desire in his eyes instantly set her body ablaze. He turned her around, brushing her messy hair away from her back, and began kissing her along the spine, inch by inch, moving excruciatingly slow. His beard rough against her silky flesh, scratching her pleasantly. She closed her eyes, relishing the delight of Ethan's touch. Suddenly, a piercing smack flew across her butt.

She jumped, flabbergasted, as her blood boiled with excitement. „Ethan Jonah Ramsey!”

„You liked that, didn't you?” He let out a supremely confident laugh and spanked her again.

„I plead the Fifth.” She giggled, biting her lip. His hands squeezed her bum and lifted her up. A moment later she lay flat on the kitchen island, legs spread wide and waiting.

Ethan wasted no time – his lips continued the journey across Tiffany's aching body, nuzzling her hips, kissing her thighs, licking her belly, sucking on her breasts. They were everywhere, except where she needed him most. He noticed how hopelessly she tried to catch his attention with the suggestive movement of her hips, but he decided to torture her for his own enjoyment, savoring the exquisite scent and taste of this very special meal.

Her impatience eventually rubbed off on him. At last, he nestled comfortably between her legs, and sunk his tongue directly into her soaked folds. She didn't even make an effort to tone her moans down and Ethan was quite grateful for that. His tongue worked its magic, lashing at her clit, knowing exactly where to suck to bring her over the edge. Her hips rolled to the rhythm of Ethan's licking, begging for more friction. He immediately read the sign, inviting his fingers to join the fun. He rubbed her expertly, all the while licking her swollen clit. She was so close, already sweaty and shivering, with hands on both sides of the countertop, her knuckles white from all the force she had to use to keep herself from falling down.

When Ethan kept his pace up, she knew he was going for the last bite. In the blink of an eye, she arched her back, coming hard as the outpouring of bliss washed over her. She fought for her breath, lying still with her eyes closed and mouth open.

„Don't get too comfortable there, Rookie, I'm not done with you.” She could feel him smirking against her skin when his lips moved down her trembling leg.

„Is it because last night I fell asleep during your precious documentary and we missed our daily dose of inappropriate snuggles?” Tiffany cracked up and Ethan soon followed.

„Yes and no.” He leaned his chin on her knee, meeting her gaze. „I know how much you hate both cooking and waking up early. This is the least I could do to make this morning more tolerable for you.”

„Keep spoiling me like that and I will literally melt.” A beam of unfiltered happiness spread over her face, her eyes filled with utmost adoration. „Besides, just to clarify: I hate cooking, but I enjoy doing it for you.”

An intimate silence washed over them as they stared at each other, basking in the glorious feeling of these small gestures of affection. Ethan shook his head in wonder, his mind racing. He wanted to tell her. He was certain she knew that already, probably even long before he had realized the nature of his feelings...And yet, his words failed him, offering a blank space instead of a proper way to name the drums echoing in his heart at the very thought of Tiffany. He quickly gathered himself, stood straight and cleared his throat.

„Enough chit-chat, we're on a very tight schedule. Stand up.” With a little help from Ethan, Tiffany jumped off the countertop and hooked her arms around his neck.

„Oh, I'll show you tight, sir.” She avowed with a devilish grin.

„God, you're impossible.” Ethan heaved a long sigh in response, right before their lips melted into a deep, fervent kiss.

Cutting to the chase, Tiffany turned her back to Ethan, colliding with his body. Without any hesitation, he entered her with a hefty push, filling her up in a way she'd never experienced before. She was perfectly accustomed to his size, but the standing position was brand new to them. She didn't expect that a slightly different angle could leave an all-consuming, almost agonizing feeling of fullness before he even began pounding her. A series of vehement whimpers escaped her mouth without her permission. Her chest heaved as she struggled to control her breathing. If it wasn't for his firm grip, her legs would surely give up.

Ethan immediately noticed the unconcealable shift in her demeanor. He cupped her cheek, slowly pulling out of her.

„Baby, is everything all right?” He whispered, his voice full of concern. „Do you want me to stop?”

She instinctively grabbed his hand and locked her body on him in a desperate cry, every word a torture. „I want you inside.”

He nodded, relieved, pulling her as close as it was humanly possible. Her head lolled back, resting comfortably on Ethan so they could still glance at one another. They exchanged a blithe smile, reflecting the dizzying sensation of each other's presence. His lips brushed her forehead in a sweet kiss just as he began moving inside of her.

He started off slow, pulling in and out as gently as he could, keeping her steady in his protective arms. Her previous remark proved to be right – she was insanely tight and dripping wet, her scent and unrestrained moans only adding to his arousal. He knew he wouldn't last long.

„Harder, please.” She whimpered, tightening her clutch on his arms. He willingly complied, deepening his thrusts, setting a merciless pace. The sound of slapping flesh punctuated by their heavy breathing and pleasure vocalized in the most indecent way.

Everything was Ethan – he invaded all her senses, emptying her mind, leaving nothing but his name. Tiffany could feel the thunder in his heart pounding on her back; his hands were mindlessly roaming over her curves as she remained trapped in his strong embrace. His fingers snuck to her clit, rubbing her with expert precision while his cock kept on ravishing her. She was mere seconds away from another orgasm, unable to communicate in any form other than shameless moaning.

Ethan was right behind her, chasing the finish line. His deafening groans got more desperate, thrusts slower and rigid, his fingers pleasuring her frantically, until they both cried out in unison – their bodies twisted in overwhelming ecstasy.

Tiffany toppled over the countertop, breathless – her blazing flesh took comfort in the cold of the marble, with fingers skimming blindly across its surface in a desperate attempt at keeping herself steady. She had no time to recover, as Ethan's body clutched at her tight, his burning skin clamping around hers. His ragged breath hovered over her ear, just as his hand dived into the damp mess of her hair, pulling her locks aside to gently suck on her neck.

„Oh, God...We should...” She panted with her eyes closed, tilting her head to give him more access.

„Mhm.” He hummed with approval, tracing scratchy kisses across her shoulder. „I know.”

Instead of acting on the incoherent thought, he turned her around, crashing into her lips without any warning. They kissed slowly for a long minute before Tiffany retreated, gazing into the endless ocean of his eyes. A cheeky smirk flew across her face.

„You called me baby.”

Ethan stared at her perplexed, his brows frowned. „No, erm...I didn't?”

„You totally just did.” Tiffany's laughter filled the room, the sound shook him to the core, along with the realization the pet name might have accidentally slipped through.

„No, you probably misheard that.” He stuttered an evasive reply, that earned a well-deserved scoff.

„Don't try to deny that you called me baby for the first time, and it happened – let me stress that – during sex.”

„Stop it. Let's not make a big deal out of this. We still need to get to work.” Ethan countered, hoping that the final argument was meaningful enough to end the cross-examination.

„That's a very convenient excuse, Mr I'll Casually Avoid Any Uncomfortable Topic. You're right, though. We should hurry up with the proper breakfast. But let's take a quick shower first.”

„Together?” He cocked his brows, sceptical about the idea.

„Yeah, why not?” Her index finger twirled around his nipple.

„We're already running out of time, we can't afford the further delay.”

„I thought you like a challenge, baby.” She pressed a wet kiss on his chest and broke the embrace. Ethan watched her walk off towards the bathroom with a tantalizing sway of her hips. He took a sharp breath, his eyes followed her every move, scanning her naked form up and down. When she reached the bathroom door, she shot him a sultry wink and disappeared behind the door. He shook his head, transfixed and defeated, muttering to himself.

„We're going to be late then.”

___

Sorry if there are any typos or mistakes, this B is too tired to double-check lol

___

Taglist: I’ll post it separately in a reblog because [tumblr] is being a brat

#ethan x mc #open heart #ethan ramsey #my fanfic writing #ethan ramsey x mc #sorry not sorry

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princess-of-the-worlds · 4 years ago

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tldr: As of this October, it has officially been one year since I first watched Torchwood and started reading fics. Although I didn’t start writing my own fics until March 2020, I have written...like a lot of fics in the past seven months. But I wanted to celebrate my favorite fics by other people. So here is Part 1 of probably several eventual fic rec posts. These are what I consider fandom staples.

To The Sticking Place by zephyras13

The end justifies the means. Failure is not an option. There is always a choice, except when there isn't. These are the phrases Ianto Jones lives by and he refuses to allow anyone, even Captain Jack Harkness, to change that. Jack/Ianto, AU, Torchwood One Agent!Ianto.

(janto & others | complete | mature | 96K)

Nik: I legitimately cannot explain why I love this fic so much other than the fact it is so great! It was one of the first fics I read, and I still adore it. It follows canon so well while making you feel very range of the emotion spectrum. The author’s take on Ianto is so complexly-written but still feels true to the canonical Ianto. Literally one of the first fics I’d rec to anyone new to fandom. A must read.

only fools fall by transjackianto

“Oh my god,” he gasps out when his laughter has died down to softer chuckles, “I am so glad I stuck around to hear that. Thank you Jack, I needed to laugh today. Now if you’ll excuse me,” he pushes back from the table for the third time but Jack stops him again with a hand over his own. It is a softer touch than before and that unnerves Ianto more than anything.

He looks up, terrified he’s going to see some kind of earnest emotion on Jack’s face. When he finds Jack looking instead like he swallowed a handful of pins he relaxes. He’s not sure he could handle finding out Jack had some kind of ridiculous unrequited crush on him.

“I know,” Jack groans, dropping Ianto’s hand and letting his head thunk against where his arms are crossed on the table, “I want to punch myself just for saying it, but I mean it Ianto. I need you to be my boyfriend.”

Aka, Ianto just wants to make it through his summer as a newly single sixth form graduate and eagerly await the end when his ex comes back from her summer trip and they can reunite.

His ex-friend Jack Harkness throws a wrench into the works.

(janto, lisaianto, & others | complete | mature | 182K)

Nik: Okay, so I’m a tiny bit biased with this one considering that the author is my friend whom I adore and also one of my favorite people in this fandom. And I...also betaed this entire fic. But take it from me! It’s so, so well-written and the shift from enemies to lover is so perfect. There is angst, oh so much angst, but it is worth it. Plus, it’s incredibly hot! And I know the author has eventual plans for a sequel, although no promises when it’s coming. Another must read!

Halfway Back by Sholio (@sholiofic)

Team Torchwood run a sanctuary for magical creatures, and this time they've got a basilisk on their hands.

(gen | complete | teen | 13K)

Nik: Okay, so literally anything by Sholio is perfect. They have an incredible grasp of the team dynamic that still blows my mind, and their fics have topnotch Owen-Ianto interactions. But I chose this fic because the premise felt like almost nothing I’d read in this fandom before. Plus, there is still the requisite amount of Owen angst in this. (Also check out The Cartography of Feeling, which is another personal favorite.)

Conversational Japanese, Plus Frogs by james

Tosh and Ianto have been taken prisoner. They cope.

(janto | complete | teen | 6K)

Nik: One of the older, shorter recs on this list but still a classic. A fascinating in-depth character study of Ianto and Tosh and their friendship in confined quarters that also explores the trauma that follows some of Torchwood’s misadventures. I don’t think I can say much else besides urging you to read it!

Sharkreef (Or, Why Torchwood Was Set in Cardiff and Not the Bermuda Triangle) by queenfanfiction

There is the story of a team who tried to save Earth from aliens. This is not that story.

(janto & many, many others | complete | teen | 2K)

Nik: Look, I know that some will actually despise that I included this rec, but this fic is ICONIC. It’s cracky, yes. Cracky crack. Very crack. But it’s also legitimately one of the strangest/whackiest/what-the-fuck fics I’ve ever read. It always startles a genuine laugh out of me. It has all of our favorite tropes...coupled with some lobsters. (Sidenote: This reminds me of John Mulaney/SNL’s Diner Lobster sketch, which I also encourage you to watch.)

Insignificant Other by parachutewoman

Ianto is tasked with telling Rhys that his newly wedded wife has ditched him to go to London with Jack on a “very important mission”. Refusing to have his day ruined, Rhys drags Ianto along to the Six Nations final and the two ‘other halves’ try to make sense of their place in the world and their partners’ lives.

(janto & gwenrhys | complete | mature | 6K)

Nik: Ianto-Rhys friendship content is something that is severely lacking in this fandom, which is a damn shame. You can see from COE that Rhys seems to genuinely care about Jack and Ianto, which I presume is from post-Exit Wounds bonding with his wife’s coworkers. And I know that the audiobook Ghost Train has a lot of good Ianto-Rhys bonding, although I just haven’t had the time to listen to it yet. Either way, this fic, and the other fics by this author, are very well-written and beautiful. This one, set circa S2, has just the right amount of angst mixed in as well as you watched Ianto go from reluctantly accompanying Rhys to actually enjoying himself. I definitely enjoyed this fic.

Beast Inside by Flamingbluepanda (@flamingbluepanda)

"Argue with anything else, but don’t argue with your own nature.” - Phillip Pullman

Inside us all, there is an animal that expresses our soul. How would the world change were those animals outside?

(janto & others | complete | mature | 26K)

Nik: Admittedly, this one is also a bit biased because the author is my friend and I am their loyal occasional beta, but I started reading it before I met the author. Although daemons do come from His Dark Materials, they have become a sort of AU on their own, and thus, you do not need to have read HDM to read this excellent fic. I definitely have not. There is angst, there is fluff, there is canon compliance. And there is Dai. Dai, Rhys’s corgi daemon, is probably not the one you would expect to steal the show, but he stole my heart. (I mean, Navi and Emma, Jack’s bear daemon and Ianto’s terrier daemon, adorable respectively...but Dai!) Expect to fall in love with Dai by ths end of this fic!

To Let by Amand_r

Ianto Jones is a good housemate.

(janto & lisaianto | complete | not rated | 12K)

Nik: Now this fic is a little bit different from the rest because it is not only second person POV but is also outside POV, which makes it slightly odd to read at first. But I can assure you, it is most definitely worth it. Ianto’s unnamed housemate makes for an interesting perspective into Ianto’s personal and domestic life as well as exploring his relationship with Jack. His housemate, of course, doesn’t remain one-sided, with loss and love and life of his own, but you can tell that his bond with Ianto is genuine. This fic provides a nice break from the explicit canon while still exploring familiar events.

Your Job Knows What It Is by ShastaFirecracker

Torchwood Three, 2045. Bram Hudson's just been recruited by Jack Harkness, it's xir first day of work, and orientation is being handled by some old man named Jones.

(janto | complete | gen | 9K)

Nik: Okay, I lied. This fic is outsider POV as well, but Bram is so well-written and complex even from the short while we have with xem. As an alternate to the previous fic, this one provides great, interesting exploration into a future, slightly different Torchwood while also serving as a COE fix-it fic. Older Ianto is just as badass as when he was younger, and the insights into his relationship with Jack are sweet and will leave you craving more.

Worrisome Heart by thepsychicclam

It's 1922. Ianto accidentally stumbles upon a speakeasy owned by Captain Jack Harkness. When Ianto becomes a bartender, he quickly learns how dangerous everything around him truly is, and more importantly, how dangerous Jack is. But the longer he knows Jack, the more he doesn't care.

(janto | complete | explicit | 42K)

Nik: This fic, this series in fact, is one of the only complete Historical AUs I have found in this fandom. Set in 1922 New York, it features all our beloved characters as completely human and sans Torchwood and aliens, which - of course - means that they can feel a bit OOC at first. Still, as you read on through this fic and its three sequels, you will realize just how well adopted the events and characterization from canon are. If you going in thinking of this as original work rather than fic, it might help you adjust to the differences. Quite well-written!

Intersecting Geodesics by NancyBrown

Stuck in a time with a Jack who hasn't met him yet, all Ianto wants is a way home.

(janto & jackjohn | complete | mature | 37K)

Nik: There are numerous “Ianto gets sent into the future by the Rift or an artifact and meets past!Jack” fics existing in this fandom, but this is one of my favorites. For one, it’s written by the incomparable author who has many, many excellent fics that I like. (Their smut is seriously topnotch, especially for some of your kinkier tastes if said tastes exist.) The distanced younger Jack provides just the right amount of angst, and his eventual fall for Ianto is built-up just enough to work believably. The resolution is satisfying enough, and the author has a few other fics in this series to keep you going!

For Captain and Cardiff by blackhemlock

"At midnight, a nationwide security alert was sent out... Torchwood London, demands all agencies' cooperation in issuing an arrest warrant for Ianto Merric Jones, 24, of Cardiff."

Torchwood Three's Archivist has gone rogue. But, he does have a very good reason, and he looks stunning in his new suit.

(janto & tenjack | complete | gen | 42K)

Nik: Admittedly, I will often be picky in my fics featuring the Tenth Doctor because of how he mistreated Jack, but this fic features a true-to-canon portrayal of Ianto and the Doctor that I adore. It does well in building up your expectations of Ianto and the Doctor’s encountering and then subverting it. There is also good room for Jack-Ianto angst, which only adds to my enjoyment of the fic. I don’t necessarily know how to explain it, but this fic also feels sleek and modern despite its timey-wimey elements.

What Dreams May Come by AVAAntares (@avaantares)

It's bad enough that a plague of alien parasites have fallen through the rift and are preying on Cardiff's citizens. It's worse that someone from Jack's past has come from the future to confront him on Earth. But when Jack himself is taken by the rift, Ianto and Gwen are forced to rely on the most unlikely of allies to keep Torchwood running without him.

Stranded in another century on a distant planet, Jack has only one hope of returning to Earth. But time travel with the Doctor has never been an exact science, and when he returns to Cardiff, things are not at all as he expects to find them...

(janto | complete | teen | 88K)

Nik: Honestly, I think one of my favorite parts of this fic may be the inclusion of an OC, Jamiya Thane, AKA Jack’s mother. I’m just a sucker for fandom’s takes on Jack’s canonical family and past as Javic Thane from Boeshane, and this plays into it well. It’s endearing to watch Jack’s found family, especially Ianto, interact with his mother. Also included is a rather brilliant time-travel mystery that will tug at your heartstrings on many levels. Excellent soft Jack-Ianto content in chapters and a creepy use of a one-off Doctor Who creature.

Ghost Story by Mad_Maudlin

I called out. "Would you like to hear a ghost story?"

For a moment Jack didn't move, and I knew he'd recognized my voice. After a moment he said, flatly, "I don't believe in ghosts."

"It's a complicated story," I admitted, and pulled the watch from my pocket by the chain. "And it starts with 'Long ago and far away.'"

(janto | complete | teen | 70K)

Nik: This fic! I passed this fic many times on my search for new fics to read, and the summary always threw me a bit, but when I decided to take a chance on it, I realized what I’d been missing out on. There’s so many fics in this fandom, and on this list, that take familiar tropes but twist them into something new, just like this fic. Without giving too much away, I can say that this fic features Time Lords, pocket watches, shifting POVs, and a COE fix-it, all packed with a brow-raising plot twist. It’s enough to make me forgive the first person POV, which I can usually not stand but actually works quite well for this fic! A fic worth reading at least once, if not many times. It feels so utterly unique!

Time Tracks by Cyborgtamaki (@cyborgtamaki) and thirteeninafez (@thirteeninafez)

It took him a second to realise what had happened; what had felt like hours while travelling through the rift shrunk itself in his head to a mere instant of searing gold. That’s when the flicker of the fire in front of him finally registered through his confused daze. In his haste to get away from the flames around him, he slipped and fell, scrambling back until he was a safe distance away from the smoke and the heat. It was only then that he took notice of the voices behind him. He turned towards the noise of a deep, northern voice spluttering and saying, confused and almost angry: “Who the hell are you?” The man rolled over onto his knees and stood up, looking around like he’d never seen a street before. “Jones.” He sounded uncertain but then spoke again with more confidence. “Ianto Jones.”

(janto & ninerose | complete | teen | 174K)

Nik: There’s many “Ianto travels with the Ninth Doctor and Rose” fics in this fandom, but this one is the longest, most recent, and one of the most excellent that I’ve read. The authors have written in-depth chapters of the Doctor Who Season 1 episodes we already know and adore as well as adding their own unique “episodes,” all of which are deeply enjoyable. There is excellent character interactions, specifically a wonderful Rose-Ianto friendship, and so much soft Jack-Ianto. The authors have, personally, promised several more installments coming by the end of the year or later, and they are sure to be worth the wait!

Club Wales by pocky_slash

In the wake of Jack's disappearance, Gwen finds comfort in a new friendship with Ianto. Gossip, bonding, and other hijinks of understanding ensue.

(gwenrhys & janto | complete | teen | 19K)

Nik: This author is single-handedly a Gwen-Ianto dynamic icon. Their grasp on Gwen and Ianto’s respective characterization is brilliant, and their friendship in this fic, and any fic the author writes, is well-fleshed out and believable enough for the moments we only really see on-screen briefly in the show. This fic, and overall series, serves as a compelling insight into how the team originally views Jack and how Gwen and Ianto grow closer. Gwen truly was one of Ianto’s big sister figures, which is excellently reflected in this fic. A must read!

Just this once by Beleriandings (@ultraviolet-eucatastrophe)

(Everybody lives.)

(Or: when a certain Doctor arrives to save Owen Harper from a stricken nuclear power station, it begins a chain of events that will lead Torchwood Three down a very different path. From time locks and telepathy to tea and coffee, high-speed chases to unresolved sibling issues, their new lives (and new and old loves) may be different, but their bonds of friendship and family grow stronger every day. But when every child on earth starts speaking with one voice, the team are torn apart again as they’re forced to fight for their lives, and to confront monsters they’d thought they’d left behind in the past. But with all of them working together – along with some allies they’ve made along the way – Torchwood Three will stop at nothing to save their friends and set the world to rights. The consequences will ripple out across the universe and into the distant future. But they have to start somewhere, and the present is as good a place as any.)

(janto & others | complete | teen | 239K)

Nik: Many fics are post-Exit Wounds and COE fix-its, at the same time, but dare I say that this one is the best? (Or one of the best at least.) The Tenth Doctor receives his own iconic “Everybody lives” moment, but that is only where this fic BEGINS. This beautiful monster, which I mean in the very best sense considering its length, traverses Exit Wounds, COE, and slightly Miracle Day and gives everyone a happy ending. In addition, the author, another friend of mine, I’ll be honest, manages to redeem and humanize Gray in a way I didn’t think possible, but I actually found myself liking him. This is definitely a must, must read, especially if you’re new to the fandom or just finished having your heart thrown out.

The Stars Might Stick You Where You Stand by methylethyl

Following the fall of Torchwood One, Jack Harkness went to ask Torchwood Three for a job. He didn’t expect to fall a little bit in love with its director, the practical and ever-calm Ianto Jones. He also probably didn’t expect that Ianto Jones would end up holding the answers to his most precious secret.

(janto | complete | explicit | 20K)

Nik: I’ll be honestly - I’m a sucker for role reversal AUs in any fandom, and this is one fic I see rarely mentioned or recced, which I think is a damn shame. It is definitely in my top five fics; I adore it so much. Jack is cast in the role of Ianto, gunning for a job at Torchwood Three after the fall of Canary Wharf. His “Lisa” is his desperate, life-long search for his brother Gray who was taken by Torchwood when they were both children. Ianto is, obviously, the immortal director of Torchwood Three, but what makes him even more compelling is the lack of direct reference to his AU past. We don’t know who this Ianto Jones was before he, like Jack, arrived in Cardiff in the 1800s, newly-immortal and ensnared into working for Torchwood. Instead, this fic, and series, focuses on a stretch of episodes from Season 1 intermingled with elements from Season 2, as well as subverting the expected team relationships. Jack and Ianto are believably different but still realistic in their characterization, and look, I adore this AU, which I’ve already said. A personal favorite and must read!

Cling to the Ways of My Name by engagemythrusters ( @iianto-jones)

If Ianto Jones thought his legacy would die out with him in Thames House, he was dead wrong.

(janto & gwenrhys | complete | teen | 37K)

Nik: Hopefully, you’ve already read this fic by now. If not, may I dare ask what you’ve been doing with your life? This is one of my favorite fics of all-time in this fandom, as well as my favorite kidfic ever. It’s so well-written and just so damn unique. I cannot capture in words what makes it so special, although I will try. Ioan Jones is the sweetest janto baby ever, and I love him with all my heart. Jack’s adventures raising Ioan are just so endearing, and later installments, which feature Ianto, serve to satisfy the domestic Jack-Ianto as parents craving you might not even have known you had. There’s just so many little details about this fic I love, including but not limited to - Jack’s found family in the Joneses, Ioan-Anwen friendship, and Ioan loving blue. A definite must read fic to give you the serotonin you need.

Waking Gods by toldthestars

Why are Ianto's dreams coming true? What's in the box with the symbol on it? Oh, and while we're at it, what's the meaning of the life?

(janto | complete | not rated | 7K)

Nik: This fic is another one with a completely unique premise in this fandom. In fact, there is only one other fic I’ve read that even gives me similar “vibes” for this fic. Here, Ianto suddenly finds himself gaining powerful, unexplainable abilities, essentially becoming a god, and oh my, this is excellent. Ianto is just trying to do good in the world, and the team’s growing fear and distrust of him and his power really sucker-punches you straight in the heart. It’s all so beautifully-written, with powerful imagery that left me awe-struck. The janto angst is oh-so-excellent. Reading this fic for the first time is an experience that I don’t believe can be replicated.

fool me once, fool me twice by princessoftheworlds (aka me)

When, after the events at the House of the Dead, the Rift spits Ianto out on an alien planet a thousand years later, so begins a goose chase that will take him across the universe and across time until he finds Jack again.

(janto & others | complete | explicit | 52K)

Nik: What kind of fic writer would I be if I created a list of fic recs for Torchwood and did not include one of my own? I consider this fic my masterpiece. The House of the Dead!Ianto get sucked through the Rift and spat out across time and space, turned into another fixed point, as he begins his search for Jack. I don’t know if I can say much else without it sounding like bragging, but it features - in no particular order - a happy ending for one, Ianto getting some badass adventures of his own, a sorta redemption arc for John Hart, numerous references to Big Finish, and too many spinoffs with more to come! Give it a shot, why don’t you?

#torchwood #torchwood fic recs #janto #jack harkness #ianto jones #gwen cooper #toshiko sato #owen harper #nik's fic recs #nik's torchwood fic recs #i'll figure out an actual tag later tbh #i wrote this all out in three hours #so i spent TIME on it #hope this doesn't flop lmao cause i could have and should have been studying #three upcoming midterms #and now i'm rambling

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sxveme-2 · 4 years ago

Text

strawberry pancakes // bucky barnes

MASTERLIST

SEQUEL TO BLUEBERRY PANCAKES

DESCRIPTION: Lily Osborne and Bucky Barnes were never blessed with an easy relationship. Whether it be emotional trauma, or Lily's parents trying to be evil scientists. But they somehow made it work, after coming together once again after the birth of Lily's nephew. They were smooth sailing for a while. He proposed, they got engaged, but have yet to marry. While also juggling raising a teenager together as Hunter reaches the age of 16 now. All the while struggling with adjusting to their new lives in Long Island, balancing careers. Meanwhile, Lily struggles with the new found fame of being the fiancé of The White Wolf; and handling the tabloids critiques on her life and gossip columns digging up any information they can on her. While trying to maintain a low profile; and handle her life as it is. And becoming parents. Lily for the second time, while Bucky, well, this is his first attempt at a biological child. All the while a new threat from their past rises up once again, blind siding the family. Bringing forward old hatchets that had been buried, and putting their relationship at risk once more.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any original Marvel characters! All canon plots and canon characters belong to Marvel Comics and Marvel Studios. This is an original work. You may not publish it anywhere else

STATUS: Unedited

NOTES: Takes place after endgame. I have elected to ignore Tony's death and Steve's leaving. Did not happen. Quick Reminder! My works are only published here, AO3 and on Wattpad, thank you.

Chapter One: The One With His Outburst

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 2241

The mix of barking and meowing stirred Lily Osborne from the depths of her sleep. The feeling of a warm body pressed close to her back earned a content sigh from her, his warmth beckoning her to pull back into her sleep. But the melodic noise of animals fighting kept her wide-eyed. A groan vibrated in her throat as she slid from her fiance's grip, stepping into her slippers. The blonde glanced behind her and chuckled lowly at the peaceful face of her hopefully, soon-to-be husband.

The howling continued and Lily stood to her feet, sneaking from her bedroom and down the stairs of their home. She began shushing the noisy animals when her feet hit the bottom, rounding the corner and separating the three animals.

"Why must you three do this every morning," Lily whispered, picking up the bright white cat the two dogs had been harassing, "I know they're so mean to you, Alpine." She cooed, scratching the cat's head, "Poor boy."

The cat cooed before hopping out of Lily's arms, racing down towards the small cat door that led into the expansive backyard. Lily followed close behind, watching the white fur dance along the boards of the dock, before perching on one of the posts near their boat.

Turning on her heels, Lily glanced down at the two dogs that stared up at her, wide-eyed and ready for their breakfast, "Well aren't you two just a sight to see." She grinned, bending down and scratching the Bernese's ear.

Along with the ever-loving cat that they had adopted, the small family rescued a Bernese mountain dog that was being used for dog fights in an underground ring in New York. They named him Chandler, coinciding with the german shepherd they had, Joey. Lily had made sure that the names matched, for only having Joey just didn't make any sense. She tried to name the cat Ross, but her lover was not having it.

After Lily made her coffee and fed the dogs, she found herself stepping out onto the back porch, finding a seat on the swinging bench. She curled into the light blue and navy pillows, allowing the warm sun to seep into her skin as it rose higher above the lake. Glancing at her phone, she saw a few texts from her best friend and chuckled at what was contained.

"Did you know Leo spits bananas at people? Rose forgot to tell me that while I was babysitting."

Typing back her response, notifying Gen that she did indeed know that, Lily chuckled. It was moments like these that reminded her just how lucky she was for the life she led. A loving fiance, great pets, a beautiful home, a perfect job, a son that she wouldn't trade for the world, and-

"Mama!" the young girl's voice rang as she pushed open the back door, walking over towards the blonde with a bright smile on her face.

"Well good morning Stella," Lily chuckled, placing her mug down and lifting the four-year-old to the swing with her, "What are you doing up so early hm? It's only 7." The blonde asked, kissing the dark brown curls on her daughter's head.

"Loud noises." Stella shrugged, looking over at the two dogs playing on the grass.

"And daddy was snoring."

Lily lifted her head and smiled at the man that had emerged from the house. He had a cup of coffee in his hand as well, and walked over towards his two girls and took a seat next to them. The blonde smiled up and pressed a quick kiss on the blue-eyed man's lips. Bucky Barnes. War hero. Ex-assassin. Avenger. Fiance. Father. Love of her life. Despite the obstacles that were continuously thrown in their path, the two found each other each time. And hadn't parted since.

"How do you think mama feels, having to sleep with him every night," Lily teased, tucking a strand of her daughter's dishevelled hair behind her ear, "Might just have to join you in bed tonight."

"Haha very funny," Bucky chuckled, plucking the four-year-old from Lily's arms, "you wouldn't dare steal mom from me would you?" he teased, kissing the brunette girl's cheek, "C'mon, let's get you fed and then get you off to school hm?"

"I wanna stay hooome," Stella whined, leaning her head on Bucky's shoulder, looking up at him with wide eyes.

Lily scoffed as she watched Bucky's face fall and grow softer as his daughter stared up at him with those bright blue eyes she inherited from him. The three fell silent for a moment as Bucky tried to keep his will intact long enough to tell Stella she had to go to school. But it was when he looked up at Lily with puppy dog eyes, she realized she was gonna have to play bad cop with the young girl this morning.

"Sneaky girl," Lily chuckled, standing from her seat and scooping the four-year-old into her arms, "Giving daddy those eyes. Y'know, I invented those eyes. You're welcome." She teased, turning and walking back into the home.

Lily sat Stella down in her chair at the table, before wandering into the kitchen and pouring her daughter a bowl of Cheerios with strawberries on top. Stella had an allergy to blueberries, meaning that Lily and Bucky had to work around the attachment they all had to them to accommodate the newest addition to the family. Hunter just about threw a fit when he realized that they wouldn't be able to have blueberry pancakes as often anymore.

"Morning grumpy," Bucky grinned as Hunter walked into the kitchen when he came back in from the porch, "Looking as excited to be up as ever." The supersoldier teased, ruffling the 16-year-old's blonde hair.

Hunter gave a disheartening grunt in response before popping two pieces of toast into the toaster, staring at it dead-eyed as he attempted to wake himself up. Lily chuckled and poured the boy a cup of coffee, sending it his way before placing the cereal down in front of Stella for her.

"Hey can you promise me not to be late for class this morning," Lily sighed, bumping her elbow on Hunter's arm, "I don't need another call from Ms. Humphrey in the middle of an examination again."

"I make no promises." Hunter quipped, giving his mom a tight smile before sliding into the seat adjacent to his younger sister.

Lily sighed and sent a quick glance towards Bucky. Hunter had been acting up at a continuous pace, furthering his attitude towards Lily specifically. The room fell silent as everyone resumed eating or drinking their coffee. Bucky sent Lily an apologetic smile when he caught her staring at Hunter with a saddened look on her face. When finished, Lily plucked Stella up and carried the dark-haired girl up to her room to get her ready for school.

"Hunter come on!" Lily called after buckling Stella into her car seat, "I don't want Stella to be late!" The blonde sighed, chuckling as Stella pointed out that Lily had a coffee stain on the corner of her mouth.

"I don't get why I have to go to school so much earlier just because Stella's starts earlier," Hunter sighed, climbing into the front seat of the car, "Can't I just get a ride with Bucky when he goes to work?"

"No, because Bucky is going the complete opposite way of your school," Lily hummed, taking a seat at the wheel, "Plus, it puts me at ease knowing that there's less of a chance of your dad calling me wondering why he keeps getting emails that you're late."

"Why do they even email him, it's stupid," Hunter muttered, popping one of his earphones in.

"Don't say that word around Stella, we've talked about this."

"Right, always have to watch out for Stella." The sixteen-year-old muttered, staring out the window.

"Don't start this right now, Hunter. Please."

-----

Lily muttered a few unflattering words as she pulled into the driveway of the large beach house that she was fortunate enough to call home. However, she knew the teenage boy that sat inside the house would not feel fortunate that his teachers were so vocal with his mother. Slamming the car door, Lily stormed up towards the front door, throwing it open with such frustration she thought she herself had become a supersoldier like her fiance.

"Doll hey," Bucky smiled, jogging forward with Stella in his arms, "I know it sounds bad but let's get Hunter's side first- "

"Hunter's side?" Lily scoffed, dropping her purse, "What side, Bucky? He swore at a teacher today. What validates that?"

"Maybe the teacher said something to provoke him." Bucky smiled slightly, a weak attempt to calm down the fuming blonde.

"Have you talked to him?" Lily asked, sliding her coat off and hanging it up on the stand.

"He won't come out of the attic." He sighed softly, bouncing Stella in his arms.

Lily stormed past the brunette holding their daughter, running up the first flight of stairs to the second floor, before mounting the ones leading to the attic. She stopped at the top of the stairs, glancing around the attic in search of the dirty blonde boy she was hunting for. Lily spotted him at the birchwood desk, staring at a blank computer screen. Dropping her bag, the blonde walked over, not attempting to be quiet as she pulled a chair around next to the boy, arms crossed over her chest.

"Something you want to explain to me, Hunter?" Lily stated voice calm and collected as she waited for her son's response.

"If you listen to my side of the story, maybe," Hunter responded, shutting his laptop and turning in the chair to face his mother.

"I'm all ears."

It didn't take long for Lily to end up on the phone with Syosset High School, fuming with a new type of rage that Lily only ever summoned when these specific issues arose. She paced around the back deck, waiting for the line to be picked up so she could let the teacher have a piece of her mind. Though she was sure when they did, the school would've wished they hadn't messed with the Barnes-Osborne family. Especially when it came to the former name in the equation.

"Good afternoon Mrs. Tyler. It's Lily Barnes, Hunter's mom," Lily began, her lips stretched tight, "And I would like to speak with Ms. George about the things that were said to my son today in class."

"Why don't you, Hunter, and Mr. Barnes come by the school. I have Ms. George in my office here." The principal commented, her voice as calm and cool as Lily's.

-----

That was the first mistake on Mrs. Tyler's end. See, over the years, Lily found that fire that burned deep within her. She had allowed herself to feel loved and confident, with the help of therapy and her fiance encouraging her. It only amplified the fact that Lily was the common mother bear that would not hesitate to go to war for her children. Specifically when it came to people spitting on the image of her family.

"Want to tell me why you called my son's father a terrorist?" Lily snapped as she stormed into the office of the high school, making a b-line towards the principal's office, "Because as far as I'm concerned, that's crossing a line."

"Ms. Barnes, please sit." Mrs. Tyler smiled, a tight one that made a shiver run down Lily's spine.

"Relax, love," Bucky whispered, hand finding the small of Lily's back, "You blowing up won't help the case."

"If I may-" Ms. George piped up, earning the coldest glare that Lily had ever dished out.

"No, you may not. You, Ms. George, have crossed a line here," Lily snapped, walking further into the office, "You may teach American History, but clearly, your mind is stuck in the 20th century. My fiance has saved this world more times than you can count, and if you think for a moment I would sit by idly and allow you to say that to the father of my children? You're as dumb as you sound."

A sigh escaped from both Hunter and Bucky's lips as they took a seat behind the roaring Lily, Stella situated comfortably in Hunter's arms. Both knew better than to step in between Lily when it came to this sort of topic. Bucky was the one person who made Lily feel genuinely safe in the world and hearing someone say he was anything but a hero made her stomach twist into violent knots that set off the fire within her.

"I agree the comment was inappropriate," Mrs. Tyler began, "but we are concerned about Hunter's response. We do not tolerate that type of aggression here at Syosset High."

"I don't care what you tolerate, Maria. Ms. George has insulted my son's father and the man that has helped raise him. And has thrown the term terrorist out like it was nothing," Lily continued, chest heaving, "My son had every right to lose it on her. It was a personal attack and insult. So if you think I will be disciplining my son for defending his family? You're mistaken. Suspend him, I don't care. Because I would prefer to teach him myself if this is the education he will be receiving here."

"Lily-"

"It's Ms. Barnes, to you."

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ad-write-it · 4 years ago

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The Ideal Function of an Adaptation: How Treasure Planet Did it Right.

An adaptation is a valuable storytelling platform, since it exists to tell the same story with similar characters, while giving authors and directors plenty of room to place a new creative perspective to its source material. This ideal is wholly separate from the concept of a sequel, given that the world and characters are able to be played with more while remaining consistent within its own canon. Adaptations and remakes both should be treated like AUs, criticized only by their own flaws and and inconsitincies, only compared to the original or its predecessors when its execution of similar concepts is demonstrably inferior. i.e. The Lion King, Mulan, BBC’s Chronicles of Narnia, Beauty and the Beast, Gnomeo and Juliet, etc..

With all that established, I’d like to propose a few questions. At what point is an adaptation so removed from the original source material that it might as well be its own standalone story, wholly separating it and letting it stand on its own two legs? Why are some adaptations considered love letters to their source material while others are mocked relentlessly for their imbecillic and shallow attempts at repairing what wasn’t even broken?

To provide an existing story as an example of what I see as the perfect adaptation, allow me to discuss the underappreciated passion project of Ron Clements and John Musker:

Yes, I am 100% serious.

And I will be admitting upfront that this comes from a possibly biased perspective, since I truly believe that Treasure Planet is objectively one of the best adaptations that has ever been produced. I am wholly open for this take to be criticized from an analytical perspective, and I invite discussion openly. But before we go there, let me state my case.

First off, the plot. Treasure Island is a tried and true tale of intrigue, espionage and adventure: A young boy named Jim Hawkins is raised in a fatherless home by a mother who works tirelessly running her own tavern, and he encounters an aged sailor who passes on a treasure map of immensevalue before his untimely death. This puts Jim through a series of trials as pirates ransack and destroy his home in search of the map, leaving him desparate to find the means to rebuild the inn and provide for his mother. Jim joins on an expidition financed by a wealthy friend in the hopes of finding a trove buried by the notoriously murderous priate Captain Flint, only to be put under the supervision of the ship’s cook due to his general lack of nautical value. The hired mercenary crew eventually reveal themselves to be the same band of cutthroats that raided the inn, with the cook- Long John Silver -as their ruthless captain. This forces Jim and those close to him to band together and find ways to outsmart and survive their cunning enemies, with the additional conflict of Silver taking a shining to the boy and not wanting any harm to come to him. This element of the story remains primarily unchanged from the book to the animated film, it’s where the changes come into play that the remake really shines.

Now the changes to the setting that Clements and Musker put in effect are fairly obvious: instead of taking place on Earth in the 18th century, and structured as wholly believable to have happened in our own history, Treasure Planet takes place in a separate universe entirely. A world where what we know as space is referred to as the Etherium, united and traveled through with a series of interconnected currents of breathable air inhabited by planetary bodies and lifeforms unique to the vast abyss. A universe home to countless distinct sapient lifeforms, all beautiful and grotesque in their own ways, forming a distinct culture around space travel that is similar to the 18th centure culture around seafaring in a manner than makes perfect sense.

This setting is brilliant, not only through how objectively well crafted to its intended purpose it is, but additionally because through my personal perspective this is an unmatched example of how drastically a setting can be changed and altered while facilitating the exact same story. It is inspiring and encouraging to realize how much care and creativity can be poured into your own worlds, helping to separate your vision for the story as unique without forcing in cultural ideals that will be dated in as little as a decade. If nothing else, it feels equally as alive and believable as the original book through intentionally placing itself in a distinct setting, and displaying just how much logical thought was applied to their creative drive to hammer it into a very valuable retelling.

Secondly, and perhaps slightly less obviously, is the changes to the characters. Instead of being a child haphazardly wisked into an adventure, Jim is changed into a restless and rebellious delinquint struggling to find his place in a fatherless home after his father takes off. It isn’t childlike wonder that whisks him away, it’s a mix of nostalgic hope from the stories he was told as a kid and a need to fix his broken life. In his own words, ‘a chance to make things right.’

Long John Silver initially was represented as a mentor for Jim, akin to a teacher-student relationship. At a stretch it could be comparable to a sibling-like bond, though that requires a lot of stretching and isn’t properly supported by the book. The animated feature’s Mr. Silver, however, serves as a replacement father figure for Jim; taking a shining to the boy as he recognizes the restless spirit inside Jim, and experiences several moments of letting his guard down around the young man to offer genuine encouragement and guidance. These small changes enhance the dynamic relationship between Silver and Jim, adding more depth and weight to what was originally already a weighty story of betrayal.

The characters of Dr. Livesy and Squire Trelawney are discarded for the most part, but functionally replaced by the old family friend Dr. Delbert Doppler; an eccentric but intelligent, brave and caring astrophysicyst. This same principle is applied with Mr. Arrow and Captain Smollet, who themselves are reimagined and replaced respectively as Mr. Arrow and Captain Amelia; a sturdy and loyal companion and a cocky, confident, courageous and calculating commander.

The entire cast is a beautiful example of keeping the narrative similar in tone and execution while seamlessly exchanging old characters with new ones, or reinventing classic characters in ways that still hold true to their cores. It’s so competently made from every angle. Amelia wasn’t put in command for the sole purpose of arbitrarily having a strong female character, unlike worryingly large number of more recent female protagonists. She legitimately demonstrates the type of character and skillset that would land her that position, acting less like a puppet and more like a living person. Dr. Doppler isn’t exclusively eccentric and naive, but also resourceful and rational when push comes to shove. B.E.N., while on surface level is only there to provide laughs for the kids, is a key worldbuilding aspect that takes both the audience and the characters by complete surprise in a manner that fits within the constructed world and narrative.

To summarize: This adaptation has the exact same plot placed in a reimagined setting, with adjusted classic characters and well-implimented original characters, all conveyed with intelligent writing and consistent worldbuilding. It sets up its rules, characters, and goals, following through with all of them while providing natural emotional and practical conflict through clear cause and effect. It’s logical, concise, emotionally resonant, and structurally sound; all while being a project of love and labor from two of Disney’s most influencial and talented creative minds.

Now it should be stated that the setting and characters don’t need to be changed so dramatically in order for an adaptation to be good, but if you’re passionate enough about a story to adapt it I’d assert that you are required to not only try and polish the tangible flaws of the original- writing, dialogue, worldbuilding or otherwise -but place your own creative spin on it too.

And above all else, any story needs to be structurally sound, internally consistent, and objectively well-crafted.

#writing #creative writing #adaptation #treasure planet #treasure island #disney #disney renaissance #writing advice #objective quality #objective value #fiction #storytelling

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geniusinventora · 4 years ago

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This started off small, but became a REALLY long post. So. Let’s talk about how Gyro talks to people and his general socialization skills.

Under a read more after a point because well, this is going to get VERY long. There are a lot of aspects to this that just don’t come across unless you’ve spoken to me, or you over analyze how Gyro speaks in the show and in the comics.

Gyro has a very hard time getting the meaning he’s TRYING to achieve come across. Like- he wasn’t really socialized until his late teens. His only peer was his brother who he fought with constantly.

Gyro is just very, very bad at communication in general. He will say what is on his mind, how he thinks it with nearly no filter. While he does sometimes try and make things come across better, it doesn’t always work. It’s somewhat of that trope “He assumes people are smart enough to figure out what he’s saying”, but... not? Because it’s not like he’s trying to be pompous about it.

Miscommunication and hostility just come with talking to him. It really takes a lot for him to not be quite honestly inept at social interactions. It’s why he likes talking to close friends, or people who know him, and will almost always let someone close to him translate for him. Eventually people learn that the rudeness, sass, and his quickness to anger aren’t always purposeful or even noticed by him about 99% of the time.

. . .

The notecards that he uses in the first episode are actually something he’s had for... well since he was working with Scrooge. While he was somewhat socialized with people while with Akita, FOWL was a... unique work place. There wasn’t a precedent on how to act or react; just respect heron and bradford. And respect from Gyro is extremely hard to come by, partially because of how he was raised. Gyro doesn’t respect people, but if they do something wrong they lose it. Gyro respects NO ONE until they prove they should be respected, and then he does. It’s really ironically like how he was raised, though he’ll never come to make that connection.

People he respect, or value, or become close with he TRIES to be better at talking to for a time. There’s an awkward phase will he will attempt to fix how he talks to a person- adjusting verbiage, colloquiums, and slang in an attempt to understand how they talk to him. Most of the people in the Duck Family are either in this phase, or past it. Where you can get him to notice that things he says aren’t always okay. That actions he do aren’t okay. He’s much more open to being corrected at this point, and while he won’t say thank you, will appreciate it. He doesn’t always change HIS speech, but he does clearly speak and treat the people in this category different than he treats about 90% of the population.

There is a very small circle of people, however that are past this. Gyro feels like he can TRULY be himself around them, and rather than caring about how he talks, he does the opposite; he just speaks as himself without worrying. It’s near identical to how he acts when he doesn’t respect someone with a huge difference. All it takes is a comment- sometimes a WORD to get Gyro to stop and re-evaluate everything he had said before he was stopped, and actually tries to correct himself and his behavior. While he is not trying to change or alter his own self, there’s just an understanding between him and the other that he just is like this. He doesn’t need to change, but he doesn’t expect the other to either BUT he does actually value their input, and doesn’t want to upset them. It’s mutual respect, at least from Gyro’s point of view.

While within canon of the show, really the only person we ever see him speak to this way are Scrooge, and at the end of Astroboyd Fenton. Those are the 2 pure canonical ones that he will, should either of them point out he is taking things too far, or being rude, or anything will fix his behavior near instantly. Fenton will still get sass, and Scrooge being far more respected is due to his history with Scrooge, and the fact he wants to prove he was worth saving. Fenton... well that’s a peer. He doesn’t feel like he needs to be formal with him.

Within the canon of this blog though, there are a few people he respects. @lunarspeared‘s Della is obviously one. Following the idea that he did spend 5 years with the Cousin Squad due to Della dragging him into it- then everyone in Cousin Squad he holds that same respect even if they aren’t close. This can lead to really interesting dynamics... especially if particular members of Cousin Squad don’t like him. He will no matter what though, take any and all advice that the cousin squad gives him. In some instances (and what’s been plotted with Ash, Oreo, Zak, and others) the Cousin Squad made notes on his cards- symbolically showing that they have just as much respect and value in Gyro’s eyes with their opinions and advice that Scrooge does within Gyro’s reasoning. Della, Donald, Gladstone, Fethry, and Scrooge being the ones who he relied on the most to learn to properly communicate.

@livesforgttn‘s Black Heron and @tunnagan‘s Bradford actually hold this respect, however as time passes it slowly starts shifting. @voidfcllen‘s Gladstone also holds this as well. If you’re extremely close with him, and he’s spent a lot of time with an individual who has learned to see past the surface level of his words are usually the only ones he respects at this level.

Depending on his specific relationship with the triplets, the AU, and how it’s plotted he might have this with the kids. Really, it depends on how the children ask, if they respect him- if they’ve had more interactions than just what’s shown in canon, and a lot of other factors (whether or not he’s dating/married to Della or he was ever close to Donald). There are a lot of factors that I won’t actually force on a person, but would leave up to them if they wanted certain dynamics.

That being said, respect can be lost and gained tenfold. While there are extremely subtle differences in how he speaks and acts around the people he really trusts and respects- sometimes if you don’t really know how I play Gyro it can be very subtle to see. It’s why I’ll go to people and cry about how he’s being secretly soft, despite not seeming that way at first. Because of that, unless you know how close Gyro views a person, it can just look like there are some he’s slightly awkward around, but

Gyro’s also been lying for nearly all of his life, over some very very big things, down to what his favorite color is. Gyro is not a trusting individual and sometimes will refuse to ever be truthful with someone should he feel like doing so would put him in any sort of danger. Danger being mental, physical, or just situational of course. He really does follow the “look out for myself” philosophy, and lives by it to a dangerous degree that can make getting to know him hard. Which ALSO leads to problems in communications because he will always favor making himself more comfortable than whoever he was talking to. You know he likes you when he makes an effort to make it a more balanced in making sure neither party is upset by what he says, or by avoiding conversations that lead to possible conflict.

That being said, Gyro doesn’t “open up.” He doesn’t just start telling his whole life story, or feel like there are big truths to him. At this point he honestly cannot remember what secrets he are keeping. They’ve become such an integral part of who he is, he forgets that they are actually secrets at all. The Gearloose family, the fact his father disappeared, Tokyolk, FOWL, Bradford being the Director for FOWL, his feelings, his full name- There are a lot of MAJOR secrets that he keeps. Ones that, depending on where he is on the timeline, can cause more damage than good should they come to light.

His opening up to someone is the small truths. How he likes his coffee. Someone knowing his sleep schedule. Where he lives (cause no, its not at the lab.) He doesn’t see himself as the lies that he tells, or the secrets he keeps. He sees himself as the small details of himself that, unless you know him well, someone would never know. THAT is who he is, and if someone sees him that way he usually is very close with them. However, it can break the friendship/relationship if they begin to hold him and view him as what secrets he keeps because they are automatic for him. It takes little effort to lie to anyone about anything. When he hesitates or choses to be honest and show himself is what he considers opening up.

The exception to this is whenever a child is HIS child shaped. He will (nearly) never lie to them, and tell them the truth should they ask. The primary reason for this is because of how Fulton raised him. Gyro recognized that Fulton was hiding his intentions a lot, and because of that there was never a clear lesson or take away that Gyro got from all of the lectures he received. Because there was no reason behind “Inventing is bad”, he chose to ignore it. He doesn’t want a child of his to follow down the same path he did- so he will be OVERLY clear and transparent should they ask him. Any intentions, ideas, beliefs, or reasonings they want to know, he will almost always tell him. The only secret he would consistently keep is FOWL, but that’s more dependent on the timeline of the AU.

And, unfortunately these are not consistent across all verses. Any universe that Gyro is parent shaped to the Triplets (as in, from the time they hatched to show time) he is a lot softer! He understands how to be more personable, and caring towards the people he loves without being outright malicious unless it’s necessary.

Alternatively, any universe where he’s even MORE isolated than in canon (Crossed Paths, FOWL Demise) or has some other circumstance affecting his mentality and being in some way (Taken, Dark Impetus) will make all of this much worse. Becoming more friendly, or taking the steps to actually try and have that in-between state that allows them to know he is making an effort for them can be all but gone. In other cases, he might actually just- not care at all. He doesn’t have what little empathy that canon Gyro does, and so therefor has never CARED if someone has bothered to try and understand him or takes his words at surface value.

Because of this, some universes he is much more... blunt than he is in canon or the blog’s canon. The Notecards that Scrooge gave him when he first began working for him were a HUGE help. @scroogemcdork and I have talked about it a lot. Scrooge was the first positive, influential work environment that Gyro had ever been in. He had NO IDEA how to act, speak, or really do anything. The cards were there as a crutch to help him learn what situations need a specific amount of tact. While they were slightly there to help him, he ended up valuing them a lot, and just kept them.

In fact, he usually keeps them on him at all times. Him using the notecards usually is a non-verbal (ironic, huh?) cue that Gyro is completely at a loss for how to treat someone, how he should speak to them, or how he wishes to present the ideas in his head. It usually, while at first APPEAR to seem respectful because he is attempting to be respectful it’s really the opposite. Gyro’s biggest disrespect he can show someone socially would be to use the cards on them, and to communicate only through those. You can usually tell when he is, because he starts sounding more empathetic, and uses words like “Sorry” and gets perspective on other people’s emotions and possible reactions.

If he’s using the cards on you, 90% of the time it’s either because he isn’t sure what to say, he’s being FORCED to be respectful, or he just doesn’t think you’ll ever understand the intentions he really wants to get out of what he knows he would say naturally.

Gyro usually is overly confident in himself and his abilities, however the one he knows he lacks is the social skill. He knows FULLY well that he is AWFUL at communication. He doesn’t hide that. In fact, usually he just either lets someone determine how their relationship with Gyro will continue. If they stop talking to him, then that’s on them. He has more confidence in himself, really thanks to Della (and the cousin squad if they were involved in specific plots), and in his eyes he has come FAR from where he was before.

Really though, in the end we only see him in ‘17 when he’s first using the old, worn down cards to present ideas to the Board. Something that has happened numerous times. Something that Gyro and Scrooge have obviously talked about before. He didn’t get that he was being rude or demeaning, and was forced to use the cards. He’s been extremely rude and socially inappropriate to Donald, the kids (never using their fucking names), Fenton (office bathroom. Need I say more?) and many other people we see in the show.

Conversely we see him being extremely kind to Lil Bulb, and Boyd, and Fenton (after Astroboyd). It’s clearly something that he CAN be, however it seems to be that the relationship that someone has with him will change how he acts DRASTICALLY.

People’s reactions to him (standing up to him, cowering, ignoring his rudeness, trying to politely correct him, etc) will affect how he sees them. In the end, while he does act like a dick, the intentions and meanings behind so much of what he says. You either have to be close to him to know that while he is being an ass, it’s not entirely his intention... unless you’ve annoyed him but that’s how it is with anyone.

The longer, closer, and deeper a person gets to know Gyro typically is when I start seeing that they can see past the sarcasm, the sass, and honestly the cruel way he can sometimes act. Comments of violence, anger, and resentment that he’ll never act on or doesn’t even have being ignored, he can be rather telling if you read between the lines of what he’s saying.

And it only took me nearly 2 years writing him to be able to completely figure all of this out. So I hope you enjoy the quick guide- and yes I mean quick guide to Gyro and his miscommunication issues.

#» » 〈《 meta 〃 general 》〉#» » 〈《 blog canon 〃 general 》〉#if you were @ed its cause i was subtly saying you were my main or you really helped with this headcanon #anyways u H #WHO WANTS A FUCKING ESSAY EYYYYYYYY

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missmillyashford · 4 years ago

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Eight Hundred Eyes Are Better Than One - Reaction

I should have done this a long time ago but I just reread this chapter and reacted to it as I went if you’re interested @anbu-legacy

Because I’ve had a grudge against canon Jiraiya for so long it’s been an interesting but slow process of adjusting to this (better) version of him where his awful traits either don’t exist or are slightly more subdued, and traits I could actually appreciate are more emphasized. And saying that, I love this image of this giant, flamboyant man being so unsubtle about his summons that he just wakes up not just Kakashi but his entire FLOOR. Nice one. This man is a spy theoretically and I love that juxtaposition. At least it makes it easy to let Ryouma know they’re leaving.

“Dodomeki?” he said quietly.

Boyfriends, Kakashi reflected, were supposed to be reassuring. “I’ll bring you an eyeball,” he promised.

“Gross.”

This reminds me of that time Kakashi found a weird creepy bug in that one cave during the kiri mission and instead of leaving it be like a normal person he decides to pick it up and bring it all the way back to the team to scare Ryouma with it. I always find it super funny when Kakashi pulls stuff like this, terrorizing his poor teammates with gross unwanted show and tell. I personally would love a gift like that, though. I am totally someone who would probably keep particularly interesting animal body parts preserved in a jar somewhere in my house because I find anatomy and physiology interesting. I once had the opportunity in one of my university classes to hold a horse’s brain and was quite enthralled. I just wanted a good look at it and was really curious what it would feel like.

“Just bring yourself home safe.”

“Always do,” Kakashi said, which was mostly true. “Captain, too.”

I’m reacting to this on a reread so hahaaaaaaa. Nice one, Kakashi. Your poor hands.

I would say I can’t believe that Kakashi actually WENT INTO THE ROOM to wake up Raidou and Genma, but this is Kakashi, so I can. He could have just knocked on the bedroom window, or just gone to the door, like a person with basic social skills and a modicum of decency. Kids these days. No respect for the general concept of privacy. Sheesh. Boundaries. I’m glad I’m not them. I will admit that I laughed though.

Raidou jerked, sat up wildly, and blurted, “What the hell?”

“Taichou,” Kakashi said, with a little wave.

Genma exhaled, tweaked the sheet so that it covered Kurenai more fully, then sat up — a much smoother operation. “Hatake,” he said tightly, visibly trying for calm.

“Lieutenant,” Kakashi said. And, for good measure: “Yuuhi. Well done.”

Asdfghgfds. This bastard. I love and hate him. DK is always so good at this sort of humour with Kakashi and it never fails to get me.

I feel bad for Genma and Raidou and Kurenai right now though because they didn’t even get to TALK properly the next day after getting together before Raidou had to leave.

Kakashi felt his spine stiffen. Reflexive, pointless defense of his parents, who had raised him on legends and myths, told in the few quiet moments between everything else.

I really love the callback to Don’t Fear the Dark. It’s really interesting when we get little glimpses at what Sakumo was like, and what his family was like before it fell apart. The defensiveness about it has my heart hurting, because it’s one of the few tiny pieces he still has of his father. Speaking of Sakumo, mythology/legends, and Don’t Fear the Dark, I remember that there were traditional masks of demons and things in their home. For a very long time I’ve been very curious to see what the Hatake estate looks like, and what other personal items from Sakumo and their life before are still there. Here’s to hoping we’ll get to see it one day?

I like how these legends have been woven into the worldbuilding too.

Usagi thumped him on the shoulder. “Better dodge, then. We’ll bring some of her scrapings back in a jar for the lab.”

Genma would probably appreciate some jar-scrapings, though.

Genma’s my type of person. I appreciate him.

I’m really enjoying getting to know a little more about the relationship dynamics of the members of team thirteen. Ginta and Usagi’s relationship is so fun.

I love Goya purely on the basis that she’s a badass archer lady with wicked aim and I feel like that’s understandable and valid.

While Raidou and Usagi bartered for shelter, and Jiraiya signed autographs for the goat herder’s starstruck daughter, Kakashi watched a handful of goat kids bounce back and forth over a fence with blithe disregard for its actual purpose.

The goats hopping over the fence makes such a great image. I adore Tarama the goat village, purely because of the goats. And the Katsuko callback.

I am weak to the characters being dumb reckless idiots experimenting with jutsu for science so I was LIVING for the thunderstorm Ginta-Kakashi shenanigans. I’ve also always loved thunderstorms so I might be extra weak to lightning users. Just casually detonating each other’s jutsu and hoping they don’t explode each other irreparably in the process. Good fun.

Actually getting so see Kakashi split lightning was so cool. We keep hearing about it in canon and legacy so to finally see it is so satisfying. I like the description of sharingan vision as “he tracked the bolt zig-zagging down as if it were made of syrup, oozing through superheated air, long, lethal fingers branching out towards them.” And I also particularly liked this line:

The lightning snapped towards him like a massive, elemental predator scenting blood.

I am very amused:

In the dizzying aftermath, Kakashi had just enough time to think ow and awesome before the next strike threatened, and they both ran like hell for the village.

Usagi’s childish glee is so great. And yeah, I feel both her reaction AND Raidou’s are pretty appropriate. But still, lol:

“When did you turn three hundred? Your rookie just did the coolest thing ever. Stop being miserable about it.”

“You want him?” Raidou said.

“Yes,” said Usagi instantly. “Hatake, you’re mine, get over here.”

“Wait, no,” Raidou said.

I’m glad Kakashi is being appreciated.

The conversation Raidou and Kakashi had about KureGenRai hook up was veeeeery interesting. I wasn’t expecting Kakashi to react so harshly. I guess it is hypocritical of Raidou to say what he said then do that, though Raidou has a point that it’s to protect rookies from senior officers. Lieutenants and Captains are different since they’re closer in rank. I’m guessing that Kakashi is kind of frustrated with how he and Ryouma have felt like they’ve had to keep their relationship secret for fear of getting in trouble, even if same rank liaisons are technically not against the rules, unwritten or otherwise. Because of Raidou’s whole boundaries thing and general testiness about that kind of thing?

I’m curious to see how keeping it a secret from Ryouma will go. How long will they even want to keep it from him, and if they do want to keep the secret how will Ryouma feel about both the relationship and Kakashi’s secret keeping once he finds out?

Another thing I’ll be curious to see is if this at all changes if Kakashi wants to keep his relationship with Ryouma secret still, and if so from who. I’d doubt it would since there are other factors but still. I am looking forward for when people find out, but at the same time I’ve been enjoying it being private. I think a temporary shared secret like this can feel kinda intimate so long as it doesn’t overstay its welcome. And we get scenes like Kakashi panicking and hiding in Ryouma’s bathroom while Ryouma clumsily lies and implies he may have hooked up with an Uchiha to evade arrest so that’s a bonus. I think being able to have their own relationship exist in isolation from judgements and comments from the outside allows them to take some pressure off their relationship, and gives them time to figure each other out and how to just be together unhindered. I can see why they’re doing this the way they are.

A mass grave. Whoever had dug it — Kusa ninja, most likely — had missed the small body on the hill.

“Poor bastards,” Usagi said quietly.

Kasumi, of all people, went back for the body.

I like this detail about Kasumi.

“Now we track,” Jiraiya said. He gave a little wave in Kakashi’s direction. “Do the nose thing.”

Some days, Kakashi didn’t feel entirely respected in his workplace.

Loooool

It took two more days to even get close to the Dodomeki. For Kakashi, it was like living in dual headspaces — the clean, sleek arrowhead mind of a predator, and the disordered tangle of everything human. Team Thirteen, with their… themness. Jiraiya — firmly, unignorably himself. The discomfort of Raidou and the unhappy friction between them. No Genma to smooth down the rough edges. No Ryouma to distract with chatter or an unexpected, brilliant idea.

I really liked this section for a couple reasons:

1) I like how when certain members of the team are absent it highlights just how important they are to the entire team. Genma the vital lynchpin and mediator; Ryouma the emotional heart, friend, and innovator. I also appreciate that it’s not just their skillsets that are addressed either. They’re valuable for things like their kindness, level-headedness, and company.

2) I love the acknowledgment of duality of Kakashi’s headspace and social interactions. The headspace required to do his job as a tracker vs. working as part of a team of antsy, ridiculous people are very different. The interactions he is going to be having with the wolfdogs that don’t even so much as speak human vs. his human coworkers are going to be very different too. Kakashi having an entirely different headspace with the dogs to the point he actually separates it from being entirely human (like referring to “humans” as if it were a group he isn’t entirely part of) reminds me of all the way back to the thread Lost in the Dark when Raidou sees Kakashi speaking to the entire pack for the first time. He realizes Kakashi’s social skills have likely been influenced by his exposure to the dogs he grew up with. It was such an interesting revelation to me. This is the part I mean if you’re curious:

What followed was one of the strangest conversations Raidou had ever witnessed. Kakashi, with his economy of speech and movement that seemed so disjointed in human interaction, slotted into place as naturally as breathing. Raidou recognized that questioning head tilt echoed back by listening dogs; the silent, watchful glances that lingered a second beyond comfortable; the predatory edge polished like a fine weapon. Here, Kakashi’s hair and mask just looked like markings, no more notable than that shepherd’s black-tipped ears, or that hound’s white-ticked coat.

It explained a lot.

I really liked seeing Raidou defend Kakashi from Kasumi’s crochety and unjustified remarks. Progress!!! I’m proud.

I’ve probably said it before and I’ll probably say it again, but I always love your dialogue. There’s so much personality and liveliness in it. The banter is so entertaining. Usagi and Ginta especially right now.

I know the mythology the Dodomeki comes from is very different, but there is something about the descriptions of her that make me think a lot of what I felt watching the Netflix the Witcher series. Which might not mean anything to you if you haven’t seen it. Similarly horrifying and deadly and gross. It’s great.

The entire fight scene had my heart pounding. It was so intense and fast-paced. So many close calls and how fast she was was so terrifying. We just saw Kakashi with his sharingan so fast he was able to split a lightning strike in half, yet she’s so fast he can’t even hope to keep up. Fuck.

Abe had to chase him nervously around, attending to whatever bits of Jiraiya’s face he could reach, until the medic finally lost his temper and ordered Jiraiya to sit.

I loved this.

I don’t have anything interesting to say about them theorizing about her sickly state, but I am very intrigued. I also love when little bits of real life actual science are incorporated in fantasy like this (ex. the mention of ketosis).

I am still very very worried for Kakashi’s hands. I suspect he won’t get out of this entirely unscathed even after treatment.

#anbu legacy

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veryvincible · 4 years ago

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Do you think you could share some of your Tony Ty youth/relationship days hcs? hehe

Yours truly,

Tys obsessed fan

Oh boy! I have been sitting on this for a few days now, because there is, uh, a lot. Also, I adore you, and I love every Ty ask I receive.

I think this post would end up far too long if I responded the way I desire to in my heart, so I’ll keep it relatively simple (edit: it did not stay relatively simple, and also it branched out slightly into other topics. This is so very long. Be warned.)

Content warnings here for psychological/emotional abuse/domestic abuse/child abuse!

I like to think they didn’t really have a “let’s get together!” moment. I think they ended up becoming close, they were casual with each other, and it just kind of... became what it became. I think they probably ended up using labels at some point, but I don’t think there was ever an official, “Would you like to go out on a date with me?” or “Would you want to be, like, boyfriends?” moment.

I think Tony was a generally isolated kid (obviously, he gained acquaintances like Bruce and potentially Reed as he grew older, but you know) and Ty was... probably also a generally isolated kid. Ty may have had a few other “friends” around, given what we know about him; he’s certainly charismatic. I don’t think Ty would have really developed close friendships with many people, though, given that his personality seems more rotten the closer you get to him.

We don’t see a lot of their childhood together at all, so this is almost entirely shit I’ve come up with for the sake of fic writing and general note-taking for the sake of coherency with how I write Ty, but.

One thing I tend to lean toward is the idea that Ty had kind of an awful home life. This isn’t really an, “Aw, boo, so sad, what a tragic man,” sort of thing so much as it is that... I think Ty and Tony are at their most interesting when they’re contrasting forces, and the idea of Tony (a victim of abuse who broke the cycle) becoming friends with Ty (a victim of abuse who perpetuates the cycle) at a young age, not in spite of their differences but because of them, is something I really like to think about.

We don’t actually get much of Ty’s parents in canon-- they’re kind of implied to be, like, Fine Parents. They’re contrasted with Howard Stark, who pulls the shark-eat-shark business motherfucker thing and basically causes Mr. Stone’s business to, like. Drown, or whatever. You know. The contrast there is implied, and I respect that for what it is. That being said, that’s not what interesting for me to write, and as such, I’ve chosen to tweak these little details for the sake of my more personalized (and slightly more self-indulgent) fic writing experience.

I think there’s a lot of potential in considering the differences between how they act at home as opposed to how they act with each other, too. I think Home Tony is generally apprehensive and subdued, but more uncertain and anxious than outright fearful 24/7. In IM Vol. 1, Howard was shown to be unpredictable; we got to see a lot of bad, but there were also sparkling moments wherein they seemed to be bonding as a father-son duo, and Tony would actually get to work with his father and learn from his father. I think that very well could have exacerbated the anxiety he felt, because he’s not being taught to never touch anything ever-- he’s being taught that there are very specific circumstances under which he’s able to explore as he’d like to, and those circumstances are 1) virtually impossible to accurately predict and 2) subject to change at the drop of a hat. So, Tony has been shown to be at least a little bit capable of testing the waters with what he’s allowed to do in the house and what he’s not allowed to do. That doesn’t make it any less anxiety-inducing, it just makes him a tiny, tiny bit of a more active child than one who’s constantly paralyzed.

Home Ty, to me, would be the opposite-- he is fearful 24/7, and as such, his behavior as a child is kind of... flawless, at least in the eyes of parents who think that children should be seen, not heard (and sometimes not even seen). I think both of his parents were abusive-- his father more so than his mother, but certainly both of them, if only because I think it would be yet another nice contrast between him and Tony, whose mother wasn’t perfect but certainly tried harder and felt more for Tony than Howard did. I like to think Ty was kept on a very short leash at home; boundaries were predictable, there were no “glimmering moments” he could grasp onto in order to make him feel like there was ever a chance of having normal family dynamics, and he was too afraid to really... do anything about it.

In contrast, I think Boarding School Ty was probably a lot pushier, a lot more risk-taking, and generally just... took up more space. I think he was still pretty fearful of authority and nervous about punishment, but he was well aware of the fact that this was distinctly different from being at home and that most people at school didn’t give a flying fuck about him. It likely could have been both liberating and anxiety inducing for someone so used to being around people who found it important to control him. I think he was probably pretty manipulative at this point, but I don’t think it was at the point where you would point to him and go, “Oh, what a fucked up, toxic person!”, especially since he was, like... a little fucking dude. Like, a fucking young’un. But I think the seeds were sort of planted here, and given that he had no healthy relationships to model himself after, he worked off of the assumption that in order to have control as opposed to being controlled, he needed to 1) possess things, 2) protect them aggressively, and 3) make sure his authority wasn’t threatened.

Boarding School Tony (from what little we’ve seen of him, though we can imagine he was probably similar to pre-boarding school Tony for a while, just with more Issues now) was probably the opposite-- less willing to take up space and less willing to take risks. It’s not unimaginable to assume that he might have thought his (extremely) mild exploratory tendencies might have had something to do with the abandonment, and he very well could have adjusted accordingly; if him causing trouble for people was what pushed his parents to leave him, he would very simply not cause trouble. A lot of this is nabbed from Adult Tony tendencies, wherein pretty much everyone else is prioritized over himself and he’s practically incapable of finding himself worthy of anything at all.

It’s the classic “extrovert friend-adopts an introvert” trope, except... it’s a severely damaged child feeling gutsy enough to finally, finally take up space and find something to possess and control for his own for once... friend-adopting a severely damaged child who very likely feels like the best way to proceed in relationships is to very clearly identify boundaries, figure out what it is the other person wants from him, and try to adhere to those desires as much as he’s able.

Of course, canon portrays the relationship as a “friendly rivalry” that Ty takes much more seriously than Tony does. From what we’ve seen of Tony, though, Tony doesn’t actually want to be better than anyone. In fact, he tries his best to make it seem like the opposite. He treats everyone like they’re on the same level, he tries to simplify the concepts he’s explaining so no one feels inferior to him, and, generally, he just... isn’t much of a braggart. That isn’t to say competitive/proud people can’t be kind and gentle and want to level the playing field often, but in Tony’s case, it seems that competition is best for two things: 1) having two intelligent, capable people trying to outdo each other and, in the process, creating better and better technology for the betterment of society at large, and 2) lighthearted fun.

For Ty, it very clearly wasn’t just lighthearted fun, and I think most of their childhood rivalry would have become formulaic at a point: Tony would put a good amount of effort into their competitions, but if it seemed that Ty was lagging behind too much, Tony would simply back off and let things even out. I don’t think Ty was predictably a sore loser; in fact, I think he was unpredictable, and I think a part of Tony that had only known life to be unpredictable found some level of sick comfort in that.

For Tiberius Stone specifically, I tend to read more into the unintended consequences/implications of his character based on one-off lines that... weren’t really intended to say much. The story canon gives us isn’t incohesive, exactly! It’s a pretty good story, especially if you’re not hellbent on analyzing character motivations. There’s just a lot about Ty that doesn’t seem very stable. Obviously, he’s not a stable person, given that he, uh, freaked the fuck out and tried to take over the world. But when I say Ty doesn’t seem very stable, I mean his character doesn’t seem the most stable at a second glance; we’re given conflicting accounts about his motivations, his intentions, his past, and even what he’s trying to do in the moment. And some of these inconsistences can be found in dialogue from Ty’s own mouth.

Now, if you read into it from a point of view that’s canon-adjacent as opposed to canon-compliant (i.e., assuming there’s much more of a story there than canon offers, and canon’s “case closed!” for the timeline of Ty’s life isn’t actually a closed case), you can gauge not only some level of dysregulation, but also... a level of delusion, almost. Ty seems disconnected from reality, but it’s not like there’s one single alternate timeline of events that’s cohesive in his head. It feels like his view of the world and, most importantly, himself (and this is excluding dialogue wherein he’s explicitly lying to Tony in order to manipulate him).

Most notably, we can kind of gauge fluctuations in his own views of his self worth. He engages in constant competition with Tony, he refuses to come back to America after leaving until he’s more successful than Tony, and pretty much everything he does is to prove he’s better than Tony. So, he thinks he’s better than Tony, right?

Well, not really. Because so much of his life was spent with the understanding that he wasn’t better than Tony. That was the whole reason he was gone for so long. He said he’d come back once he’d beat Tony, and... he still hadn’t beaten Tony. The beginning of the narrative leads you to assume that he thinks his big victory was being richer somehow, but it was all a set-up to bait Tony into Dreamvision. He comes across like he wants to kill Tony at first, and when that doesn’t work, he wants to... keep Tony. Like a pet, almost. But he also wants Tony to... kill him?

It’s a lot. It’s messy. It’s inconsistent. And that’s kind of what’s interesting about it. It (unintentionally, probably) suggests that Ty doesn’t have consistent motivations, which is something you do see often in people who are in survival mode in environments that don’t necessarily warrant it. It suggests a psychological wound that’s easy to poke at.

Essentially, Ty just comes across as very... hurt. Which, y’know, doesn’t justify shit and doesn’t make him any better of a person, but it provides the opportunity for some interesting narratives to sprout. Figuring out all the ways that Tony could unintentionally pick at this psychological wound of his and all the ways Ty could poorly respond is neat, I think, and I feel like these kinds of narratives tend to be very... raw, I guess, is the word I’m looking for. They just kind of hit hard, especially for those who have experienced similar situations.

It’s just something that’s terribly common in abusive relationships-- any implication that the traumatized abuser is doing something wrong can be a trigger for a borderline nervous breakdown, which makes communication practically impossible and, if the victim of the abuse feels obligated to stick around or take on the role of caretaker, turns the relationship into a cycle of insecurity and misery on all fronts. That’s not to say the abuser and the victim are suffering equally or are equally justified/valid, but it is a kind of relationship dynamic that can be incredibly cathartic to both write and read, and it’s also just... I don’t know. It just, as the kids say, hits different.

So, rewinding about four paragraphs there (whoops, this is getting long), I think most of my feelings about youth/relationship days Ty/Tony kind of center around this concept of two suffering people handling their trauma in totally opposite ways. I think it’s especially interesting to look at it from the point of view of them as younger adults (or teenagers, or children) who aren’t so set in their ways quite yet. You see these redemptive qualities and you see these children and these teenagers who are so, so ready to be helped and saved and cared for, but with the knowledge that they just... don’t get that. Not for a long time, at least.

It can feel fatalistic from a narrative standpoint, and... I mean, it kind of is. There are very few circumstances under which I could see Ty getting a redemption arc of any kind, and that’s kind of what makes a younger Ty so tragic. Everything he does is born of insecurity and anger, and everything Tony does is born of insecurity and love.

I think (for a short period of time, at least), they molded each other. Ty’s anger and competitiveness only solidified Tony’s inferiority complex and Tony’s inability to really, genuinely stand up against Ty in a way that would make any lasting meaningful changes only cemented the idea in Ty’s head that this was an acceptable way to be.

Now that that’s out of the way, here are some more simple and concise headcanons, because you asked for them and I’m sorry this became so terribly long and broke off in so many different directions:

- I think Tony and Ty bickered a lot as they got older. I don’t think Tony was totally incapable of standing up for himself, but I do think Tony probably had a tendency to call Ty out in the moment, and when Ty became too agitated and too unreasonable, Tony just left it alone and let it settle.

- I think Ty can play house extremely well. He probably remembers all of Tony’s favorite foods, favorite songs, favorite fabrics, favorite... I don’t know what other favorite things you could have, but you get my point. I don’t think he always used this information, but I think it would be incredibly important for him to know how to make someone feel loved, even if he didn’t always employ these methods (and in some cases, may have actively withheld certain kindnesses as acts of pettiness). I think it was also incredibly important for him to know Tony’s dislikes, for... obvious reasons.

- As I said before, I think Ty had a tendency to become terribly dysregulated; I think he was more than capable of both premeditated manipulation and unintentional manipulation. I think he very likely could have fallen into a spiral of thoughts that could make it pretty clear just how easily his self worth and his view of Tony’s worth fluctuated.

- Tony’s just... a stronger person than Ty. That’s a given. That’s been proven. And I think a lot of Tony’s willingness to put up with Ty would have come from this idea that he was more resilient and Ty was more fragile and volatile, so if Ty needed to take shit out on him every so often, that was fair enough.

- Another factor that may have played into Tony’s tolerance of Ty’s behavior in their youth (which, again, wasn’t nearly as awful as what Ty did as a grown ass man, given how Tony responded to Ty post-Dreamvision and how he pretty much immediately broke things off-- though, I very much enjoy the concept of Tony making some effort to make amends and Ty failing to meet him in the middle yet again) could have been the fact that it feels like Ty probably didn’t have a lot of other friends at all, especially not close friends. I think Tony would very much carry the weight of this “Maybe I’m the only person in the world who loves him” mindset. He values human life quite a bit, and I believe that even on a less intimate scale, if Tony tried to view the situation through the perspective of an outsider, he would still feel terribly, terribly saddened by the very human tragedy of being forced to take more than you can reasonably handle and becoming difficult to redeem as a result of this-- not because there’s no good left in you, but because you’re so frightened by the idea of even touching the trauma that you can’t force yourself to acknowledge you have a problem to begin with.

- I don’t think Ty feels the same comfort and warmth from physical contact that most people do, not because of anything innate (i.e. a natural preference), but because the only physical contact he received for a long, long time was, uh... Awful! That being said, I think he enjoys physical contact on the basis of being the center of attention, and he probably initiated physical contact quite a bit. I think Tony’s very big on physical contact, and Ty would very much play into Tony’s preferences here, too. Just to make himself seem like a better, more attentive boyf.

- This one is less tragic-- I think Ty and Tony get pretentious together! While I adore in-canon comparisons between Tony and the rest of high society, I also think a long-forgotten part of Tony’s character in fanon is the fact that he really does fit in with a more yacht-having crowd just as much as he fits in with your average Joes. He was raised by them and with them, after all, and his education was shaped by this. Of course he doesn’t love a lot of the culture around it, but with regards to the more harmless aspects of being a privileged kid in the environment he was in (the experiences one might have that aren’t inherently negative, that is, like having certain extracurriculars or being exposed to certain educational content), I think Ty and Tony really mesh here. Tony’s sense of humor with Ty would be totally different from his sense of humor with someone like Steve, which would also be totally different from his sense of humor with someone like Rumiko. Tony’s incredibly well-rounded, and I think he could match Ty’s Classics-loving, borderline classical theater kid tendencies very well.

- This one is 100% headcanon, based on virtually nothing other than, like, one comic panel... that isn’t even awesome evidence. It’s just a personal hc. I think Ty’s gay. Like, obviously, he’s gay for Tony, w/e. But I think Ty’s gay as in, Ty is exclusively attracted to men. The only women he ever had eyes for (or showed interest in) were the women that Tony had shown interest in/dated first, implying that there’s more of a possessive/competitive aspect than anything really... genuine. Of course, that doesn’t mean he can’t be bi, pan, or anything else (or straight, obviously, but this whole post is about him and a guy he likes to fuck, so that doesn’t really fit into the theme, here), but I prefer to write him as someone who’s only really interested in men (Tony specifically), and I prefer to write Tony as a bisexual man with a preference for women. This wasn’t really intended to be a big contrast between them; I had the headcanon for Tony already set in stone (haha), and for a long while I wrote Ty as a bi man, but recently I’ve kind of shifted things around to better accommodate my feelings about these characters.

- I love, love, love tattooed Ty. Get this man a quote in Latin on the base of his neck. Get this man some symbolic tattoos. Let this man be a poet who simultaneously wants to appear profound for appearances and wants to have these symbols on his body just because he likes them, and he likes to look at them, and they feel reflective of who he is. I have very specific Ty tattoo thoughts that I do not remember at all, but this is the gist of it.

- I think Ty handles the “normal” adventurous stuff, but he’s far more of a, uh... I don’t know, a pussy? than Tony is. Tony deals with actual threats; Ty deals with fake, stupid threats. Ty is the guy who rids the dorms of cockroaches when Tony’s too afraid to and Tony is the guy who handles home invasions.

- I think the vast majority of Ty’s abuse is emotional/psychological, not only because this is what comes most naturally to him and it’s easy for him to fall into these manipulative tendencies without necessarily thinking about it, but also because physical abuse would cross a line for him in his head that would be very difficult to ignore. I think, if you take into consideration how volatile he seems, his flip-flopping back and forth between how he feels about both himself and Tony could become more exaggerated and more severe, possibly leading to an irreversible breakdown of his psyche. I think there could very well be an, “Oh, I’ve become my father” moment if that were to happen, which is exactly why it doesn’t happen. Ty’s too wrapped up in this idea that, so long as he doesn’t cross that line, everything he does can still be justified. Which is garbage.

- Tiberius did not like Sunset Bain. Sunset Bain did not like Tiberius.

There’s a lot more that comes to mind, but this is already upwards of 30 paragraphs, and I, uh. Do not want to make this longer than it already is! So, do with that what you will.

Again, obligatory note here that this is canon-adjacent and canon-inspired, but not an analysis of canon material in the sense that I’m attempting to pick apart what the intents of the writers were. What canon provides is much more straightforward. These are headcanons, this is for funsies, and a lot of less important background details have been tweaked for the sake of the narratives that I, as a fanfic writer, would like to write and see written.

Thank you so much for the ask! This was legitimately so nice to write. I rarely ever get to spam about this, which is very likely why there’s just so much text every time I receive an ask like this, but. Again, it was very nice and I’m very grateful for you, anon.

#obligatory note here asking people to please not come into my askbox telling me about how much they hate-#- even the slightest implication that there might possibly be a single abuser out there not 100% rotten to their core #i have received. a lot of asks like this #and again as a victim of abuse whose views do not align with this it is so so so distressing to receive these #once more i am not saying anyone is wrong to believe what they believe #or to process things how they process things #but please please please don't ask me again and again to explain why exactly it is so draining for me to respond to these asks #you are valid! you deserve health and recovery and happiness and you need to do what you need to do to get that!#but please extend the same kindness to me and allow me to have my little corner of fandom wherein i also am able to find myself represented #tiberius stone #tony stark #cassks #abuse tw #abuse #child abuse tw #child abuse #long post #tyny

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thatlittledandere · 4 years ago

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This isnt for the ask meme but can you nerd out about Trans Yosuke cuz actually im curious about the story you planned.

ASK AND YE SHALL RECEIVE! Disclaimer though that I can’t claim any of this is even REMOTELY realistic, but these are the thoughts that inhabit my head and were not created to be shared so I’m not taking constructive criticism lmao. It’s MY Yosuke backstory and I get to choose Also warning that I’m going to go into excessive detail.

Sooo when Yosuke was a little kid everyone figured he was just a tomboy. Some girls like superheroes and rowdy play and hate dresses, big deal. It wasn’t that much of a “problem” yet in elementary school, where kids wear their own clothes and are generally freer to do as they please. Some kids from other classes or grades may have even thought of him as a boy.

The name Yosuke comes from a character Yosuke thought was cool from a TV show he used to roleplay with his friends - you know that thing kids do where they pick characters to “be” and then do dumb shit. The group sometimes used the character names as nicknames even when they weren’t “being” them, and Yosuke especially liked it so much he started insisting on it at home, too. His parents eventually caved in to keep him from being insufferable, thinking it was just a phase, with no idea how much it actually MEANT for their kid. The name felt much more him than what his supposedly “real” one.

The problems started when Yosuke started middle school and was supposed to wear the girls’ uniform and be a “female student”. It was unbearable for him. He was incredibly difficult about it, went to school for maybe two weeks, and then refused to go. After a few more weeks of just... having someone bring Yosuke his homework and being unable to explain to the school why Yosuke was constantly absent, not understanding it themselves, the Hanamuras contacted a psychologist (or a psychiatrist; after all these years I don’t know what the difference is). After listening to what everyone had to say, they referred Yosuke to another professional - one that was more versed on transgender issues.

This one confirmed with Yosuke that the problem was that he really, really, REALLY didn’t like being seen or treated as a girl. Not that being a girl was bad; Yosuke liked girls and had friends who were girls; he just really really REALLY didn’t want anyone to think he was one. Like, seriously. Somehow it just wasn’t who he was. And the doctor understood, called Yosuke’s parents in, and handed them a booklet on the basics of being trans. She explained the concept, and how it’s been proven that those people are the happiest and healthiest when they’re being treated the way they want to.

And alright; maybe it sounded a little weird to his parents at first, but Yosuke seemed to perk up immediately after hearing that what he was going through was a real thing with a name and there were others like him. He was visibly relieved, and smiled like he hadn’t in months. So... they decided to go with it. I don’t know about the medical specifics but Yosuke got diagnosed with gender dysphoria and Mr. and Mrs. Hanamura contacted the school with doctor’s orders that he needed to be allowed to wear the boys’ uniform, attend gym class with other boys, and generally be treated as a male student. In my dream universe everything it nice and easy like that and Yosuke got through middle school with no more trauma than any other teenage boy.

The procedure was repeated when Yosuke started high school, and when he transferred to Yasogami. After middle school nobody knew he was any different from other boys, and that was that. Nobody at his old HS (excluding the faculty members who had to know) ever found out he was trans. Yu was the first person Yosuke properly came out to, trusting that he’d understand. And he did. Nothing in their relationship changed much, but Yu felt like he maybe understood some of Yosuke’s behavior and apparent insecurities a little better now.

The second person Yosuke came out to was Naoto (who isn’t trans in this specific headcanon universe for personal reasons I have no obligation to disclose. I respect everyone else’s interpretation and adjust my language accordingly when interacting). Yosuke visited her in the hospital once, alone. What her shadow said about wanting to be male struck a chord to him, and he just couldn’t leave her be without confirming that she at least knew it was an option. They talked about their experiences and everything’s good :) The conversation is more about Naoto lore and repeat of what I’ve written out so far so. Yosuke came out to the rest of IT after Naoto’s discharge and yeah maybe they did make some slightly insensitive remarks because boy these teens are insensitive, but they’d never seen him as anything other than a disgustingly typical teenage boy anyway so whatever, nothing changed. Not like any of them particularly WANTED to see him without clothes in the first place.

The beauty pageant and “miss” Yasogami contest can burn in hell for several reasons but making me imagine it triggered Yosuke’s dysphoria is one of them.

I’m skipping all Yosuke lore that doesn’t directly involve his transness so let’s seeee he started HRT somewhere in college at which point he’s definitely dating Yu no matter when they get together in the scenario at hand. I can’t bear to keep them away from each other for two years sdggsgh. Yosuke gets his legal documents changed at some point in his earl 20s I think. He keeps in contact with the doctor who originally diagnosed him all throughout this, and in the scenarios where Yu is nonbinary he directs them to her as well. And life after that is smooth sailing. Everything’s good and nothing hurts.

So yeah! That’s my personal “canon” for Yosuke. Many things about the P4 characters change according to the scenario I feel like exploring at that time but this is sort of like the canon backstory that I don’t really divert from. I don’t know how to make a TL;DR of it; thanks for suffering through if you did and please don’t yell at me.

#thank you for asking i kindasorta wanted someone to know this but i can't see myself letting it all out unprompted sdfdsgdsg #i let him have it easy with school and family and friends with the gender #but sexuality? yeah lol THAT's another story and it's more angsty #because i have.issues #fuck i'm not letting the tags take over again KTHANKSBYE #persona 4 #yosuke hanamura #(for blog organization and blacklist purposes but you're allowed to interact as long as you're nice to me this is very personal #almost 1000 words...#jelly farts #asks #anon

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kraviolis · 4 years ago

Text

lost in the in-between (or so it seems) - HLVRAI

Chapter: 1/5 Rating: Teen Relationships: Benrey/Gordon Freeman, Gordon & The Science Team, Background Bubby/Coomer Words: 7k Additional Tags: Post-Canon, PTSD, Nightmares, Sleep Deprivation, Panic Attacks, Hurt/Comfort, Healing, Not A Game AU, Paranoia, Accidental Date Chaperoning, Zoo Day, Autistic Tommy Coolatta, Touch-Starved Gordon, Emotional Breakdowns, Romantic Relationships Are Not The Focus Content Warnings: Panic Attack, Drinking, Not Safe Decisions Summary:

(Sequel to “you gotta wonder what it meant”) It’s been a few weeks since their escape from Black Mesa, and Gordon is struggling with nightmares and intense panic without really understanding why. Everything feels like an uphill battle these days, and Gordon’s forgotten that asking for help is something he’s allowed to do and that his friends are ready and willing to provide it.

AO3 LINK

____

“Gordon?”

Gordon jumps in his seat, jerking his head to look at whoever had said his name. He meets Dr. Coomer’s eyes, wide and uneasy. “Sorry, I just— what were we talking about?”

Gordon looks around the metal table, adjusting his head slightly to get the sun out of his eyes. Sunkist makes a soft whine from under the table, and everyone has paused in the middle of their meals. Bubby and Tommy are staring at him just like Dr. Coomer, all with varying expressions on their faces.

Bubby is frowning in annoyance at him. “Well, we were talking about how I’ve never been the zoo—“

“But then you started staring off into space and— and we got worried!” Tommy interrupts, clear concern on his face.

“Are you alright, Gordon?” Dr. Coomer asks him, his brows furrowed in worry.

“Yeah, I’m alright.” He assures them, a smile easily plastering on his face.

“Are you sure?” Bubby raises an eyebrow sharply in his direction.

“I’m sure.”

“Do you swear?” Tommy presses, putting down his fork that still had a bite of waffle on it.

“I—“ He frowns and blinks. “What’s with you guys? You usually take everything I say at face value.”

“You were staring at your omelette for a very long time, Gordon!” Dr. Coomer tells him. “It was rather worrying!”

“Guys, I’m fine. Honestly.” He sighs. “I might not be getting much sleep but that’s all—“

“Are you having nightmares, Mr. Freeman?” Tommy asks, pressing his knuckles to his mouth. “Nightmares about Bl-- Black Mesa?”

Gordon stops and looks at Tommy, tilting his head curiously. “Uh, yeah, actually. How did you know?”

“We’ve all been having nightmares.” Coomer tells Gordon, pressing his fingers together rather nervously. Tommy nods a confirmation.

“Not me.” Bubby states plainly.

“Oh,” Gordon blinks. “Why not?”

“Dr. Bubby was never built with the ability to dream!” Coomer informs him cheerfully.

“So, what, do you just do the thing where you wake up and it feels like no time’s passed at all?”

“Correct!” Dr. Coomer exclaims. “It’s the most efficient way to sleep!”

“Yeah, I guess it is. I’m a little jealous right now, honestly.” Gordon rubs at his facial hair with a small smile. “Though, it’s kinda sad to not have any dreams at all. They can be pretty fun sometimes.”

“Just rub it in, why don’t you?” Bubby crosses his arms and scowls.

“Don’t make fun of him for not being as privileged as you, Gordon! It’s bad form!”

“Ye— yeah, Mr. Freeman, that was kinda mean!”

“I was just—“ Gordon takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Bubby. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

“Oh, you didn’t, but I forgive you anyways.”

“Right.” Gordon deadpans, and stands up. “Look, I gotta get going, guys, I have to keep looking for job openings. Thanks for brunch.”

He doesn’t have to reach down to give Sunkist a pet, the dog had been laying nearly under the table at her master’s feet but had perked up when Gordon stood. He grabs his leather jacket from the back of his chair and picks up his sunglasses from next to his half eaten omelette and empty coffee mug. He pauses though, and looks up to see all of them continuing to watch him carefully.

“What?” He asks, frowning. He tries to make eye contact with them individually but they all look away before he can. “What?”

“Mr. Freeman…” Tommy trails off, looking more concerned by the second.

“Are you really, very sure that you’re alright?” Dr. Coomer looks up at him almost shyly.

“Yes. I told you guys— what is this? What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“We’re just worried, Gordon.” Bubby says, sinking into his seat more. “You’ve been pretty out of it, recently.”

“Wh— dude, I just said—“

“We know you said you are but— but this has been going on for a while, now and—“ Tommy looks away again while blinking rapidly— and suddenly Gordon’s rising frustration fades instantly. Sunkist looks up at Tommy and shifts slightly so that her face is leaning on her master’s lap, nosing at his fidgety hands.

“Hey— Hey, I’m alright, Tommy!” Gordon puts his hands up and waves them around in an awkward attempt to console him. “I’m fine, okay?”

Dr. Coomer gives him a somewhat skeptical look. “Gordon...“ He trails off but doesn’t look away.

“Look, I just— Yes, I’ve been having nightmares but I’m a grown man. I pay bills, I have a doctorate from MIT in Theoretical Physics. I can handle a few nightmares.” Gordon sighs heavily, trying to let go of the tenseness in his shoulders. He attempts to put on a reassuring smile for them. “It’s nice to know that you worry about me so much, but I’ll be okay, guys. Really.”

The three of them share a glance at each other, communicating silently. When they look back to him, Bubby is the one who gives him a short, sharp nod. “Alright, then.”

“If you say so, Gordon!” Dr. Coomer smiles back at him.

Gordon’s own grin relaxes into something a little more genuine. He looks to Tommy, who is still fidgeting in his seat and avoiding eye contact. He glances up, once, before it falls back onto Sunkist. He gives him a gentle pet on Sunkist’s giant head and scrunches his eyes up for just a second before finally looking up at Gordon again, an unusual mixture of sternness and worry in his expression.

“Do you promise that you’re really okay, Mr. Freeman?” Tommy asks him, his voice low and quiet, obviously forcing himself to hold eye contact.

Gordon deflates a little, that firm pressure on his chest returning ever so slightly. “Tommy…” He murmurs, taken aback by his seriousness. He inhales. “I promise.”

Tommy shakes his head and brings his hand up, his little finger carefully extended. “You— you gotta pinky promise! You can’t ever break a pinky promise!”

Gordon raises an eyebrow and looks to the other scientists at the table. Bubby shrugs.

“If you break a ‘Pinky Promise’, you’ll be hunted by the entire U.S. Military and shot down like a rabid dog!” Dr. Coomer confirms cheerfully.

“Didn’t we kill them all?” Bubby points out. Coomer pauses for a moment to process this.

“If you break a ‘Pinky Promise’, you’ll be completely safe from the nonexistent U.S. Military— but you will be thoroughly shamed by all of us for lying!”

Gordon snorts and chuckles under his breath. He hesitates for just a second but he eventually hooks his right-hand pinky with Tommy’s, who perks up immediately.

“I pinky promise that I’m okay.” He says, and Tommy’s pleased grin lights up his face. They bob their hands, shaking on it, and Gordon pulls away to start putting on his jacket. “Now that we have that sorted, I honestly do have to go.”

“See you later, Gordon!” Dr. Coomer waves at him.

“Yeah! Bye, Mr. Freeman!” Tommy cheers.

“Is he going to finish this?” Bubby points at Gordon’s leftover omelette.

“I’ll see you guys later!” Gordon waves over his shoulder and walks away. He hops on the back of his motorcycle (parked just down the street from their brunch spot), replaces his normal glasses with his prescription sunglasses, and takes off.

He gives one last wave as he passes by their table and drives away feeling heavier than he has in days.

Gordon knows he isn’t exactly doing perfect. The fact that he even looked them all in the eyes and lied about it makes it all the more difficult in his attempt to contain it.

The nightmares… they weren’t normal nightmares. Not the kind he knew how to deal with, anyways. His throat would be hoarse when he woke up, flashing images still pounding against his skull like fists against a cage. He tried to forget about them the next morning but he was just so tired all the time, it was getting harder and harder to keep himself on track. The actual content of them varied, he never knew what to expect, but it was always horrifying enough to make him restless for the entire day.

For the past 2 weeks he’s been plagued by this— this shit and everything he’s done in an attempt to fix it has done nothing. They didn’t even start to happen until three days after—

After.

Gordon bites back a frustrated groan and clenches his right hand harder on the handle of his motorcycle. God, it’s like he can’t go just thirty minutes without thinking about fucking Benrey and Black Mesa and the week he spent in hell. He just wants to be able to live in the present, to be able to stop and smell the fucking flowers just for once in his life--

But he can’t. He can’t because that heaviness he’s felt, that distant feeling of dread, hasn’t gone away.

Gordon is losing his mind— again— trying to figure out why. Why he feels sick to his stomach all the time, why he can’t get a good night’s sleep anymore.

Why he can’t get rid of that invisible pressure on his ribcage like something is pushing down on him, trying to hold him in place.

Why he can’t stop thinking about that night— seeing the tenderness in Benrey’s face melt into the closest thing the man had to fury.

(Benrey was like a brick wall to him at first, but now he’s practically an open book.)

(He really does not want to think about why that is.)

Gordon wants to move on and forget about Black Mesa, about Benrey, but every single time he finds himself alone and sitting in silence his thoughts always drift back.

He thinks about the grin Benrey gave him when he agreed to play video games with him. He thinks about the pure joy he saw on his face as he threw his head back and laughed so hard at Gordon’s baby raging. He thinks about how it took only minutes for him to check on him, the concern in his voice through the door, his carefulness, the way he tensed before melting into his touch, the way he was swaying when Gordon leaned closer—

Gordon thinks about the expression on Benrey’s face as he was calling him out on the damn mind fuckery he was throwing at him and he feels like he wants to throw up.

He remembers how he just stood there, after Benrey had slammed the door in his face like a child. He’d just… stood there. His hands shaking and his heart pounding and the fading adrenaline making him feel woozy. He had stood there and stared at the door as if he would come back, as if his giant head would phase right through to taunt him, as if he would see a skeleton in the corner of his eye.

He’d stood there for a long time.

Benrey didn’t come back.

So he’s here, just trying to forget about it. Forget about him. Write it all off as a PTSD nightmare and ignore the physical evidence that he was ever even there.

To Gordon, Benrey was dead.

(He wasn’t and you know it.)

Benrey was fucking with his head again.

(The look in his eyes— would he be able to fake that kind of hurt?)

Benrey left, he left, and he’s not coming back.

(Please, God, come back—)

Gordon shakes the thought from his head and grits his teeth. He doesn’t have time for this. He needs to be thinking about anything else but this. Everything’s gonna go to absolute shit if he doesn’t get his head on straight.

He— he can’t get caught up in all this shit. It happened and it’s done with and he needs to move on. He can’t change what happened but he refuses to let the past control him like this. Gordon fucking refuses.

He’s putting his foot down here and now. The past is in the past. Taking back control of his life is what he needs to focus on. Keeping up with his commitments and responsibilities. Not letting himself spiral. Forcing himself to forget it all. There’s no point in hanging onto this! None! He got out and he’s safe and his friends are safe and he’s back to living his life to the fullest.

Alright. What does he have to do?

He needs to do more job searching, maybe buff up his resume. Dr. Coomer had mentioned that they needed a new physics professor at the state university in the city— he could get in contact with them. He was a TA for a short time while getting his PhD.

Oh-- Joshua is visiting for the weekend, and it’s Thursday. He needs to clean the house and pick up juice and snacks for him.

He takes a deep breath as he stops at a light and exhales long and slow. Okay. One step at time, he’s gonna get back on stable footing and leave everything else behind him. He’s moving on and forgetting about all of it.

He’s ready to take it all on.

———

When Gordon gets home the next evening he shrugs off his suit jacket, drops his wallet and keys in the bowl near the door, loosens his tie, and faceplants into his sofa with a groan.

That job interview went so shit.

He’d zoned out seven times in 15 minutes, asking multiple times for the interviewers to repeat the question, and had literally fallen asleep while waiting. He’d had a nightmare the night before, and something in it was so visceral and terrifying that it’s been stuck in his head all day. Curling in his gut like a parasite and making him jumpy.

(He had been back in Black Mesa, in it. Alone. Utterly alone.)

(The worst ones are always the ones where he didn’t have anyone watching his back. No one to distract him from the real horror that was happening. The things that he did, too.)

(No one with him as he stares into giant, dark eyes and struggles to fight against something so much bigger than he could ever understand.)

Despite all his preparation— he’d laminated his resume and ironed his suit with a pot off the stove because his steamer had gotten jammed, goddamnit— they’d told him they would call him in a tone that actually said that they would not be calling him.

Gordon groans again and reaches up to tug the hair tie out of his hair, throwing it on the coffee table, letting his hair fall to his shoulders. This was the third damn interview that he’d fucked up this month. He was going to run out of options and start applying for jobs that he was far too overqualified for. Maybe he’d have to throw his MIT doctorate in the trash because that’s all it’s fucking good for, apparently!

“Graduated summa cum laude and this is what I get,” Gordon laments to the empty house. “Nightmares about alien dimensions and a non-recyclable radiation suit that’s just a glorified pile of paper weights.”

He sighs. That was a good joke. If only someone was here to laugh at it with him.

(Benrey would have laughed.)

Gordon doesn’t have the energy to even be upset that he’s come back around to Benrey. He just feels so, so tired. Everything seems so… small, compared to what he’s gone through.

Maybe he should rob a bank. Gordon huffs out a single laugh at the thought, but still tucks it away for a rainy day.

The laugh melts into a sigh. It’s been weeks. Weeks and weeks of this. Rejected applications, failed job interviews, ignored calls and giving out resumes like candy on Halloween. He sees Joshua on the weekends, has Skype calls and brunches with the Science Team and even Darnold, once— but everything else has been nothing but pain and frustration and more pain. Something’s gonna make him snap one of these days.

Gordon presses his palms into his ryes. He needs— he needs a fucking break. A break from job hunting, from resume editing, from being a dad, from any and all reminders of Black Mesa. Like a cruise, or a vacation to somewhere tropical, or just a night out.

Gordon sits up a little.

That’s… not a bad idea, actually.

He pulls himself up fully and feels something almost like excitement bubbling in his chest.

Oh, this is a great idea.

It takes some time for Gordon to get ready. He hasn’t done this in a long time— not since he graduated and moved out west for his fancy new lab job. It’s downright exhilarating to be going through the motions again, the small little routine he’d been so fond of ever since he was an undergrad.

Gordon goes through his closet, finding his favorite— and best— outfit he’s ever owned. He has to squeeze into it a little but it’s just as incredible as he remembers— all dark navy with gold accents and a small splash orange. He gels his hair back, puts the ponytail back in, trims his beard, and trades the glasses for contacts.

When he’s done he leans back in the mirror and gets a good look at himself. Shirt buttoned down just enough to be classy and attractive, the gold studs in his ears, and flashy watch. His eyes unhidden from his glasses and with just enough mascara to make his lashes pop without it being obvious.

Gordon smiles at his reflection and strikes a few poses, giggling like a maniac because of how incredibly giddy he was to doll himself up like this again. He realizes how much he missed it now, and makes a silent promise to do it more often.

“Damn, I look nice as fuck.” He laughs, pulling out his phone. “I have to send a pic to the—“

He pauses, though. Wasn’t this supposed to be his night off? No more reminders of the bad shit, and — even if they didn’t mean to be— Tommy, Bubby, and Dr. Coomer were all living, breathing reminders of the bad shit.

Gordon hesitates for a moment, frowning. He settles to take just a couple pictures of his outfit and send one to them tomorrow.

Tonight, he’s letting himself forget.

———

When Gordon steps into the club’s doors, he finds his smile turning into a wide grin.

The bass from inside the club can be felt from outside, each thump echoes in his teeth and rings in his ears. The music is loud and the lights are flashing bright, neon colors are everywhere and constantly moving.

Rainbows adorn nearly every wall, every Mardi Gras necklace, every drag queen, every bead bracelet. The smell of sweat and alcohol is so strong and makes his head swim (painfully) pleasantly, he already feels drunk on just the feeling of being one with the crowd.

Gordon expertly maneuvers right to the bar, ready to calm that already-building (terror) anxiety in his gut with something sweet and fruity. He carefully avoids touching someone completely covered in glitter and orders one of the more expensive cocktails.

The drink is perfectly sweet and fruity and warms his stomach in such a comforting way. He smacks his lips and grins and gives the bartender a generous tip before leaning against the bar.

He stands there long enough to finish a second drink and get started on a third. Just watching the crowd, feeling the music in his chest and letting himself float on the (terrifying) euphoric feeling of being (trapped) encased in a crowd of (potential enemies) people.

Gordon sighs happily.

(Gordon sighs timidly.)

“Hey.”

Gordon (snaps) turns his head to look at the person addressing him.

They’re tall— taller than Gordon by a good couple inches— with a face Gordon can’t come up with a descriptor for other than very, VERY handsome. Their voice is deep, baritone, and they’re wearing a simple but rather catching outfit.

Gordon smiles at them, the warmth in his stomach making him feel bold (tense). “Hey.”

“I haven’t seen you around before— you new in town?”

Gordon laughs (nervously) a little. “I live here, I just don’t get out much. My schedule usually doesn’t give me much free time.”

The stranger grins and pretends to sigh sadly. “That’s a real shame— you’ve got such a nice face, you should be able to show it off more.”

Gordon’s face warms at the flirting and he quickly takes another gulp to (drown) encourage the (anxious) pleased feeling pooling in his abdomen.

The two of them begin to go back and forth, the stranger flirting more and more and Gordon slowly unraveling and relaxing.

It’s so refreshing to just have a normal conversation like this, no having to answer 5 year questions or herding the other person around in some attempt to stay on topic. He can say something funny and get a laugh instead of blank stares and a cut off greeting. He can flutter his eyelashes and watch them do the same and see them pick up every single signal he’s giving them without any misunderstandings.

(He feels guilty just thinking this— all he’s doing is blaming the Science Team for things they can’t help and things that don’t even really bother him.)

His heart rate kicks up when the stranger leans in a little more and opens their mouth— just enough for Gordon to pick up their intentions. Gordon tells himself that it’s just attraction. He’s attracted to them, they’re attracted to him, it’s all so flattering (nauseating) and overwhelming to feel a mutual attraction like this after years.

(Except he knows what attraction feels like and it’s not this—)

(Except there’s no butterflies, no warm pools, no slow motion effect, no startled inhale when he touches them gently, no softness or tenderness in their expression as they don’t look at him all wide eyed and red-faced—)

(Except they’re too tall, too slim, too nice, too gentle, too normal—)

His face flushes in delight (shame) as he wets his lips with his tongue. They smile a little as they watch him do it and they move a little faster

(He looks into their dark brown eyes— so different from icy blue— and sees only hunger.)

Gordon leans forward just as they do, closing his eyes. The warmth is his stomach is heavy and anchoring.

(The warmth is gone. There’s nothing but dread left.)

Their lips crash into his and it’s so— unceremonious, so anticlimactic. It’s cold and robotic and it makes his stomach clip into the floor. They’re pressing a hand to his jaw and chills are going down his spine as he just methodically goes through the motions.

(Would it have been just like this, he wonders? Or would it have been better— nicer?)

(It would have been better solely because of the fact that it would have been him Gordon kissed.)

His jaw moves and his head tilts just enough and he moves his hand from their hip to their waist and he feels wrong.

(They taste like rum and coke and Gordon wishes it was blue raspberry.)

It’s over just as quickly as it started and Gordon shudders as they pull away. He gasps sharply and pants, blinking rapidly as he opens his eyes. His mind is foggy— Why is his mind so foggy? He needs— it’s just the alcohol, he just needs to drink more—

He withdraws from touching them entirely— putting a finger up when they begin to question— and shakily reaches for his drink before tipping the rest of it back. It burns now and he chokes on it, swallowing forcefully and wheezing. He leans heavily on the bar and swallows again, his mouth watering as his stomach lurches.

The room is spinning— round and round again and Gordon can feel his heart pounding against his ribcage, desperate and crying for more oxygen and he’s trying— he’s trying so hard but his lungs aren’t fucking working— he can’t breathe— he can’t see—

Something grabs him by the arm and forcibly drags him away from the bar. He stumbles, grasping onto whatever it is in a desperate attempt to stay standing when his knees begin to give out.

His head is throbbing so painfully and his vision is swimming and there’s a voice in his ear saying something but it's so far away, now—

The cold October air hits him like an explosion. Every single cell in his body flinches when he is pulled outside, but it feels like his mind clears up in a single instant. He gasps again and can’t repress the relieved sob that forces its way out of his throat as he’s gently sat down on the pavement.

Gordon tries to breathe in the fresh air but his lungs stutter and he sobs again and he’s crying— fuck, he’s crying—

“Come on, guy— just breathe, in and out.” The stranger tells him with a gentle hand on his back. “It’s okay. It’s fine. Just breathe.

He does what they say but God, this is so humiliating. He hates this, he hates that he’s fucking doing this in public, he hates his fucked up brain and his stupid lungs for— for not even doing what they’re supposed to.

Gordon presses his palms into his eyes and shudders out a breath before swallowing and trying again. He follows the stranger’s lead, trying to match his breaths to their own exaggerated ones.

Eventually— when he has a more solid grip on his breathing— he leans his head against the exposed brick against his back and keeps his eyes closed. The cold wind bites at his damp cheeks and goes right through his clothes.

“Hey, you back with me?” They say jokingly and Gordon grimaces.

“I’m sorry,” He blurts out. “God, I’m really sorry. About everything. I didn’t— I’m— I’m sorry, I should just— go.” He stands up slowly, leaning heavy against the brick, willing his legs to stop shaking.

“H— hey, man—“ They call after him, but he ignores them as he walks away. He can’t— he can’t stand being in their presence anymore. The shame burns his throat and his face— if he fucks up anymore tonight he’s not sure he could take it.

So he walks away. Down the alley and out onto the packed street, each of his steps is harder than the last. Gordon walks for a while just to get his legs to stop feeling like jelly and to sober himself up. He can barely think past the burning shame, so he tries not to.

When he finally flags down a cab, his fingers are numb as he settles in the back seat.

The car ride is silent and suffocating, the sound of pop music makes Gordon’s head throb. The driver doesn’t say anything outside of asking for his address but Gordon can feel their judging eyes pressing into him. He ignores them and watches out the window the whole time. He looks at his reflection and sees the black streaks running down his face and not-so-subtly rubs them away. The driver continues to keep silent.

When he gets home, he stumbles out of the cab after shoving a couple bills into the driver’s hand. They speed off and Gordon’s left standing on the sidewalk in front of his house.

He slowly walks inside, going through his ritual as if he was on autopilot. Keys, wallet, shoes, jacket. He makes his way into the bathroom and goes through his ritual there, too. Contacts, ponytail, shower.

Gordon turns the water on as hot as it’ll go. He doesn’t wait to step in once he’s got his clothes off, letting the icy water slowly warm as he just... goes through the motions. Body, hair, face.

Until he’s left standing under the steaming spray, burning into his skin. Not willing to get out just yet. And so he has no other choice but to think about it.

That— that was a stupid idea.

Gordon drops to the floor of his tub and brings his knees to his chest, ducking his head between them. The shower rains hot water onto him.

What the fuck was he thinking?

Gordon isn’t a young, dumb, childless college kid anymore. He— he can’t be doing shit like that! He can’t be going out just to kiss strangers before he even tells them his goddamn name— he can’t believe he let himself act so recklessly. Tonight could have gone so, so much worse if he hadn’t had that panic attack.

What even was the point of it all? It wasn’t just to have a break and he knows it— he knows his brain, Gordon knows that there was something else—

(Icy blue eyes and a startled expression and so soft, so soft—)

He wants to tear his fucking hair out.

Why? Why why why? Why him? Dear God, why does it have to be Gordon that has to deal with this— this shit. He’s a good person! He gives out his spare change, he compliments strangers, he puts things back on the correct shelf if he changes his mind— he doesn’t deserve to have his head continuously fucked with!

It’s such bullshit for Benrey to have left for good and for Gordon to still have to put up with his stupid mind tricks. He doesn’t want to think about him anymore— he doesn’t want to want him anymore! Every fucking time he closes his eyes Gordon sees his stupid fucking face.

And that’s the problem, isn’t it? It’s Gordon’s fault this keeps happening— his brain refuses to dream of anything else. It’s just nightmare after nightmare of Benrey, Benrey, Benrey. His own goddamn brain isn’t even on his side here.

He sighs and digs his fingers into his arms. Being angry doesn’t fix anything, though. He can be angry and upset all he wants but it won’t make anything better. He has to suck it up and do something about it. There’ll be time for anger later.

“C’mon, Gordon, think.” He urges himself on. What can he do? How does he fix himself? How does he stop the nightmares— how does he stop thinking about Benrey?

Gordon almost laughs when he realizes the easiest solution to this issue.

He just needs to stop sleeping.

No more nightmares, no more fear— in fact, it would give him more time to do the things he needs to! And, yeah, it wouldn’t— couldn’t last forever, but it’ll be okay for a little bit. Just enough time to find a more stable solution. He knows that from experience while studying for his doctorate at MIT.

Plus, it’s not like he necessarily needs to sleep every night like he did in Black Mesa— he has abundant access to the good ol’ combo of sweet, sweet caffeine and taurine.

He leaves the shower and gets dressed in casual daywear instead of something comfy— he can’t risk falling asleep, after all.

He makes a pot of coffee and gets himself a mug to enjoy at the lovely hour of eleven at night.

It has to have some sort of Pavlov effect on him, because the second he sits down at his computer with a cup of coffee and damp hair still resting on his shoulders his brain shifts into productivity mode. Gordon gets right into working on various cover letters, writing emails, sending voicemails and editing his resume as the time passes. He drains his cup and refills it a lot as he works, taking small 5 minute breaks to watch the coffee drip.

It’s not until he goes to make more coffee and finds an empty canister does he stop to look at the time. When he looks to his oven clock he frowns and double checks the clock on his desk. The same time. That— that can’t be right. If it really was that long— it’s only been 3 hours at most.

He quickly goes to his living room window and opens the curtains and is blinded by sunlight.

Gordon blinks. He— did he really just spend the entire night getting shit done? A laugh bubbles up and out of his chest.

“Holy shit,” Gordon grins. “This— this is fucking awesome.”

Practically bouncing on his feet, he grabs his keys and wallet to head to the closest convenience store. He pauses for a second and decides to grab the keys to his shitty station wagon— the one he bought off Craigslist when Joshua had been born.

Gordon greets everyone he sees with a wave and a smile when he goes into the small gas station store. He makes a b-line straight to the coffee and grabs a big container. Then, he catches sight of the energy drink section.

As he deliberates on which flavors to get, his phone rings. He jumps a little, startled by the sudden noise, but quickly fishes the phone from his pockets and answers without looking at the Caller ID

“Gordon Freeman.”

“Good morning, Mr. Freeman!” Tommy’s voice comes through clearly, and Gordon smiles at it.

“Hey, Tommy! What’s up, man?”

“Oh I’m just— just on my way over to Dr. Coomer’s and Dr. Bubby’s house!” He tells him. “I’m so excited for today! It’s gonna— It’s gonna be amazing!”

“Oh yeah?” Gordon hums as he grabs a couple blue-colored Mountain Dew Amped Game Fuel cans. “Why’s that?”

Tommy pauses on the other side of the line and Gordon frowns. “Tommy? You okay?”

The man laughs. “Oh! You— that’s a good one, Mr. Freeman! You— I almost— I thought you’d forgotten about taking us all to the zoo today!”

Gordon chokes on his own spit and proceeds to hack out a lung. “Nope!” He wheezes into his phone. “Nuh— hrg— no way! I’d— I’d never forget that!”

Gordon tucks the phone in between his shoulder and face begins to frantically grab snacks off the nearest shelf.

“Yeah! I would— it’s— I would hate for you to forget and miss out on all the fun we— that we’re gonna have!”

“Yeah,” Gordon squeaks. He grabs a cooler and starts throwing sodas into it. “We— we wouldn’t, uh, wouldn’t want that! Nope!”

“...Are you feeling alright, Mr. Freeman?” Tommy asks. “You sound strained!”

“I’m fine,” He hisses through his teeth as he drags the cooler to the front and throws his card on the counter before running back to grab a bag of ice. “I’m— I’m just— exercising! Gotta— gotta keep up my daily routine!”

“Wow, I didn’t know you have an exercise routine!”

“Yep!” He huffs out, dropping the bag on the counter and leaning against it as the clerk scans all the soda and snacks. “Gotta stay fit! You know how it is— anyways, what um— sorry, what time did I say I was picking you guys up?”

“In fifteen minutes!” Tommy tells him, and Gordon’s smile becomes manic as the clerk continues to slowly scan each soda. “Oh— Hi, Dr. Coomer! Hi, Dr. Bubby!”

Gordon hears Bubby and Coomer greet Tommy as he supposedly arrives at their home. “Listen, I’ll see you in a few minutes, okay Tommy?” He says as he struggles with inputting his pin number.

“Ok, Mr. Freeman!” Tommy says. “See you soon!”

Gordon hangs up and shoves his phone into his pocket. He thanks the clerk and lugs everything out to his car, thanking the universe for granting him this one pass of him taking the car to the store instead of his motorcycle. He gets the cooler situated in the back— now full of ice, soda, and snacks for the team— and hightails it towards Bubby and Coomer’s home.

It takes only ten minutes to arrive when it normally would take twenty.

Gordon does not know how this happened. He will not talk about how this happened.

He pulls up to the pair’s home and sighs heavily, sinking low into his seat as he watches Tommy, Bubby, and Coomer all meander up to the car.

“Hello, Gordon!” Dr. Coomer greets him, taking the passenger seat.

“Hey, Dr. Coomer,” Gordon greets him, exhaustion creeping into his voice.

“Hi, Mr. Freeman!” Tommy smiles as he climbs into the back.

“You got here early, Gordon.” Bubby says.

“Yep,” He replies, popping the ‘p’. “I brought some snacks, by the way, so that we don’t have to buy mediocre and overpriced bullshit—“

“Is there soda?” Dr. Coomer lights up, looking to Gordon as Tommy and Bubby begin to root around in the back for the cooler.

“Yeah, I got—“ He hears the dual crack of soda cans and sees Dr. Coomer’s head snap to look at Bubby and Tommy so fast that Gordon wonders if he broke his fucking neck for a second.

“My dear Bubby!” Coomer gasps, scandalized. “Are you drinking a Soda without offering me one?”

“N— No! I was just— opening one for you!” Bubby insists and shoves the open Pepsi at Coomer. “Here!”

Coomer doesn’t hesitate before guzzling the entire thing and crushing the can in his hand like a grape. “Oh, Professor, you’re always so thoughtful!”

Gordon doesn’t miss the quiet, dejected grumble of “It’s doctor,” from the backseat, followed by a third can being opened in penitence.

Gordon can already feel that they might not all make it out alive from this trip. He sighs and pulls onto the street.

Half way into the car ride— while Bubby is trying to convince Gordon why he should have the aux cord— Tommy makes a curious noise and holds up an energy drink.

“Mr. Freeman, is this yours?” Tommy asks, meeting his eyes in the rearview mirror.

“Oh— yeah, can you hand it to me?” He reaches back with his right hand and the can is deposited into it. “Thanks.” He purposely ignores the worried looks from Tommy and Coomer and sets it in the console cup holder.

At the next light, Gordon cracks it open and chugs half of it. He’s never preferred energy drinks but sometimes you need the most caffeine you can get— and this one has double the caffeine content over a cup of coffee.

“Gordon?” Coomer asks quietly from the passenger seat as he wipes his mouth with the back of his left hand.

“What’s up?” He replies, trying to keep his eyes both on the road and on Coomer.

“How did you sleep last night?”

Gordon hunches his shoulders slightly. “Fine. I slept fine.”

“Really?” Tommy presses, skepticism obvious in his tone.

“Yes, really.” Gordon rolls his eyes. “Look, guys, I know I mentioned the nightmares a few weeks ago but I’m fine. Seriously. You don’t need to check on me over every single thing.”

“I— We know, Gordon—“

“I know you’re just worried, I get it, but please no more pushing this? If I wasn’t okay, I’d— I...” He trails off. He can’t find it in himself to keep the lie going. He sighs again. “Just— stop nagging me. I know I’m the youngest but don’t— don’t treat me like I can’t take care of myself.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Fr— Gordon.” Tommy says first, wringing his hands. “I— I shouldn’t have tried to push it.”

“You’re as right as ever, Gordon.” Dr. Coomer says. “I’m very sorry.”

“I didn’t say shit, I don’t have to apologize.” Bubby leans back with a bag of sour patch kids and a soda. “You’re a grown man, Gordon, you can fill your body with as much garbage as you want.” He punctuates this with a sip from a regular Mountain Dew.

Gordon smiles in relief. “Thanks guys.” He tells them genuinely, his shoulders relaxing.

The rest of the ride is pleasant. Bubby continues to vie for the aux cord but Tommy’s reign continues with begrudging acceptance when he plays some kind of peppy, anime-sounding song that makes all three of them cheer.

Gordon grins at their antics. His chest buzzes with something light and happy the whole time and he doesn’t notice he’s bobbing to the beat until Bubby shoots him a smirk when he glances into the mirror, but he doesn’t seem to want to stop.

They arrive at the zoo and get a good parking spot. It’s way early and a weekday to boot, so it’s not packed at all.

Tommy makes sure that everyone has sunscreen applied and they all pass the bottle around until they’re all up to code in his eyes. Coomer recites the Wikipedia article on sunscreen as they do and then offers to carry the cooler until Gordon shows off it’s wheels and extending handle.

Gordon pulls out a brochure from the center console of the car and begins to go through his plan for the day but is cut off by Bubby saying “Can we just go? I want to see the fucked up birds they have!”

“Now, Dr. Bubby,” Coomer approaches the man and begins to fiddle with his clothes. He dusts off Bubby’s shoulders and adjusts his leather jacket’s collar. “I know you’re excited for your very first zoo trip, but we have to make sure we have enough time to see every exhibit! I’m sure Gordon has thought it all through very thoroughly.”

Bubby blinks and looks down and away from Dr. Coomer, his shoulders going up to almost his ears. “I know,” He says, almost submissively, his face pink, before his expression morphs into a sneer— directed towards Gordon. “I just think my own plan would be better, but if Gordon wants to play the leader again that’s fine. Just don’t fuck it all up.”

Gordon lets the barbed comments slide as he tries to process what the fuck he just witnessed. Was— did Bubby— Gordon’s not even sure he saw that interaction correctly or if the Mountain Dew Amped Game Fuel is fucking up his head even further.

He takes one glance at the half-empty can, chugs the rest of it, and decides to completely ignore all of that for now.

“Alright, team,” Gordon calls out, replacing his normal glasses for his sunglasses. “Let’s rock ‘n roll.”

#hlvrai #half life vr but the ai is self aware #frenrey #gordon freeman #benrey #my writing #fics

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