#it would solve half our problems so much stress would be gone

[castielfucks]

stressing rly hard

[gravityskittles]

Chapter 5: A Distinct Lack of Hot Chocolate

Ford was having what his niece affectionately referred to as a ‘Bad Brain Day.’ He had initially objected to that term when he had first heard her use it in the days following Weirdmageddon. A day when he was sitting at the dining table, staring into space, rubbing absently at the partially healed burn marks on his wrists from the Fearamid, a stone-cold cup of undrunk coffee sitting in front of him. He had glared at her and started logically explaining the reasons he wasn’t feeling like himself, from lack of sleep to not enough food to stress from nightmares. He had then marched off to solve those easily solvable problems alone. He wasn’t that great at taking care of himself, but both he and Stan could get a lot done out of spite.

Later in the day however, after a nap and a sandwich and even some specimen work to distract himself, he still felt wrong. Mabel had showed up in the lab, Waddles in tow, to find him sitting at his desk staring into space again and slowly mangling a piece of paper in his hands. He hadn’t noticed her come up beside him and hadn’t been fully pulled out of his thoughts until she had thrown her arms around him and gently pried the paper out of his hands, holding onto him tightly. After a few moments she had looked up at him and said, in that matter of fact, no nonsense tone she got when she just knew she was right about something, ‘sometimes our brains are just mean Grunkle Ford. Sometimes you just need time, and family, and hot chocolate with marshmallows.’

He had begrudgingly let her lead him upstairs to the living room, where she made them both hot chocolate and put on a documentary he hadn’t seen yet. After a while Stan had appeared, and so had Dipper and Soos, and no one had questioned why he was sitting on the floor with a glittery child in his lap, drinking hot chocolate that was mostly marshmallows. They had just joined in.

It hadn’t fixed everything, but it had helped, and though he’d never admit it to Mabel, he started privately thinking of them as ‘Bad Brain Days’ as well, and when they had left on their first voyage on the Stan O’ War II he had stocked up on hot chocolate packets.

Which brought him back to today, and the empty box of Swiss Miss he was turning over and over in his fingers, shredding pieces of it every now and then. It was…irrational of him to feel worse upon discovering they were out of hot chocolate. They had plenty of coffee, tea and alcohol. But he didn’t like herbal tea, and Stan would be annoyed if he found out Ford had had more caffeine today, and he didn’t even want to think about how Stan would react to him drinking liquor at two in the afternoon. “Which wasn’t fair,” he muttered to himself. He knew Stan had already smoked his way through half of his secret cigarette stash since getting the call from the twins’ mom last night, and Ford hadn’t said a thing about it (despite knowing Stan had promised the twins he had quit for good). Ford acknowledged that getting himself drunk when they had important things to do today was a bit more severe of an issue than the cigarettes, but he had more self-control than Stan gave him credit for. Maybe just one drink wouldn’t hurt .

He groaned and dropped the battered hot chocolate box onto the table and poured himself a glass of water instead, trying to ignore how much his hands were shaking as he did so. They hadn’t been able to make much headway last night, a wind had come up and the ice field had become dangerously unpredictable, so Ford made Stan go to bed and had kept watch until the wind had died down in the early morning. Despite both being more than a little desperate to hear from their niblings, they had talked further and agreed that it was far too late to call and that instead, they would call once they reached port and had a plan for how to get back to the States.

He knew Stan hadn’t really slept, he’d seen the light in the cabin turn on only a few hours after Stan had gone to bed, and the empty mug in the sink told Ford a lot about where the remainder of the hot chocolate had gone. He had quietly hoped Stan would come up and talk to him about whatever was bothering him, but he hadn't; instead he had only emerged in the morning to take over from Ford and start them back towards the mainland.

Ford knew that Stan didn’t like to talk about the ten years before Gravity Falls. Partially he knew those memories were still very muddy. There wasn’t a great way to help jog them since Stan had been on his own for most of it, and regardless, Stan wasn’t too keen on trying to remember. Ford also knew, however, that part of it was that Stan didn’t want Ford to have more things to feel guilty over.

Ford hated that. They’d talked about it so many times, and each time Ford would try to press for more information Stan would just sigh and say “Sixer it doesn’t matter. It happened, it's over. Nothin’ you can do can change that now, so there’s no point in looking for things we both know you’ll only blame yourself for. You’ve got enough of that to be gettin’ on with in your own head.”

He'd gotten a few stories in the early days. Back before they’d really talked about the incident in high school; before Stan had remembered just how much guilt they both harbored for the events of that night and the decade that would follow. The Stanleymobile had brought back a lot of it. The first time they got in the old diablo to get groceries after Weirdmageddon, Stan had slid into the driver’s seat and frozen. Ford had panicked for a moment before recognizing the glazed look in his brother’s eyes that meant he was remembering. It had been a long one, a good five minutes of silence before Stan had started shaking uncontrollably and Ford had to walk him back to the house and send Soos out for groceries instead.

They’d gone into Stan’s room for a few hours and Ford had sat on the floor and just listened while Stan had rambled out memory after memory, some disjointed and half remembered, others detailed and vivid with fear and sadness. Ford didn’t even know if Stan had realized he was in the room for all of it. He’d tried to talk to him about it once later, but Stan had shut down, leaving the room before Ford had a chance to apologize for bringing it up.

Ford had nightmares about it sometimes, not that he’d ever tell Stan. It was silly, it’s not like they were even his memories to have nightmares about; he had plenty of those to begin with. But brains never worked like he wanted them too, and every so often he’d find himself waking up in a panic, with images of his brother tied up bleeding in a car trunk, beaten unconscious in jail, at gunpoint in a dingy alleyway, stitching up a knife wound alone behind a dumpster, or freezing to death in his car in a blizzard, burned into his eyelids.

He was sure Stan had been dreaming about all of that and more before getting up last night. After all, it was all he had dreamed about in the few hours of rest he had gotten after Stan had taken over from him this morning.

He’d tried to take the helm back from Stan when he had eventually given up on sleep, but Stan had just waved him off grumbling about how he looked terrible , and he should go have a coffee but no more than a cup because he certainly wouldn’t be helping Ford with his inevitable panic attack if he did. So instead, Ford had spent the last few hours trying to hack into the no-fly database from their laptop. He had managed to get in eventually but realized fairly quickly that he couldn’t just delete Stan off of there without raising some level of concern, so instead he had sent out emails to a few of his contacts in the shadow government. Hopefully a little trade of some benign alien tech would be enough for this favor. So far though, he hadn’t gotten a response, and as the minutes stretched into hours of him refreshing the inbox over and over again, the sense of dread and guilt and wrongness inside of him grew into a faint buzzing feeling throughout his body, as he began to reimagine those dreams about Stan but featuring the kids instead.

He began to rub the scars on his wrists reflexively as memories of the kids trapped in the Fearamid superimposed themselves on top of everything else. Ford had a lot of scars; thirty years of dimension hopping will do that to you. Most of them he was proud of: scars won defending refugees, escaping from Bill and his henchmen, fighting various unimaginable and scientifically interesting horrors. There were ones he wasn’t proud of: the ones inflicted with varying levels of sadism by Bill’s possession of his body decades ago, but these had long since been covered up by other scars and tattoos, all of them almost invisible now. Unfortunately, the ones he hated the most were the newest and the most visible; the thick white burns that wound around his wrists and neck, each of them sprouting the spidery lines of Lichtenberg figures from the bolts of electricity Bill had pulsed through him over and over again before he had realized pain wasn’t going to get him anywhere. Those scars still ached sometimes, a phantom pain that would wake him from sleep, and leave him lost and confused in the dark, hearing the echoes of Bill’s laughter in his mind.

Ford finally gave up and abandoned the half-drunk glass of water. One drink wouldn’t hurt . He pulled the nearly empty bottle of whisky from the counter and poured it into his empty coffee mug, throwing back about half of it in one go before sinking back down into his seat. He refreshed the mail tab again. Nothing. He really was useless today wasn’t he . As he drank the rest of the whisky far faster than he had intended he began to twist his fingers around his wrist again, running his fingertips roughly and repeatedly over the Lichtenberg figures like if he pressed hard enough, he could scrub them out of his skin. His inbox remained stubbornly empty, and his wrists ached. One more drink wouldn’t hurt.

…

Whistling is what pulled him out of his thoughts a long time later. Stan’s whistling to be exact, off key, grating, and based on a song with absolutely filthy lyrics. Ford felt himself smile and looked up a little blearily. Stan was at the sink washing dishes. When had he gotten down here? He seemed relaxed but after a moment Ford noticed the white knuckled grip his brother had on the cup he was washing, and the faint but frantic tapping of his foot against the floor. 

“Stan? Is everything okay?”

Stan almost dropped the mug in shock, but he caught it and instead carefully finished rinsing it off and setting it in the drying rack before turning to face Ford.

“Oh, I’m fine. Been down here about an hour or so I’d say. We’re back in port. I uh. I came down to tell ya that, but you were—”

“An hour ?” Stan couldn’t have been down here that long. He couldn’t have, Ford had just had a small drink and sat down to wait for the shadow government email.

“Yeah, you were doin’ that, ahh what’s the word,” Stan snapped his fingers, thinking for a moment. “Dissociation! That’s the one. Wouldn’t respond to me or nothing.”

Annoyed, Ford reached for his mug, only to find it missing. He looked back up at Stan who smiled at him grimly.

“Yeah, I washed that and dumped out the rest of what you were drinking.” He nodded to the empty whisky bottle which he had placed back on the counter.

Ford felt very small all of the sudden. He hadn’t meant for this to happen. He knew he should have been more careful, but there hadn’t been hot chocolate and Stan had been upset and quiet all day and the kids had been kicked out, which he still vaguely felt was at least partially his fault. However, it wasn’t his place to be upset, he was supposed to be the problem solver in this scenario. He was supposed to fix everything.

The kids were the ones experiencing it, and Stan was the one having painful flashbacks and PTSD, and he, well he was just, peripheral to it all. Ford was the only one of them who should reasonably be expected to function, to help, to be fine . Instead, he’d gotten tipsy and upset and dissociated for hours, for no real reason at all. He stared at his hands, twisting his fingers together to stop them from shaking visibly.

“Listen, Ford. I’m not mad at you.” Stan’s voice was soft, as though he was afraid if he spoke too loudly Ford might run away or something. Which, he supposed, wasn’t that far-fetched of an assumption to make. He’d done it before.

“I understand you’re upset. It would frankly be more concerning to me if ya weren’t. The kids mean a lot to both of us and just because you don’t have ah…Personal experience with being kicked out doesn’t mean you can’t be affected by it.”

He paused as if waiting for a response, but all Ford could do was continue to stare at his hands and wish he could teleport to literally anywhere else to avoid this conversation. He’d even take dimension 65W at this point, bear ostriches be damned.

“I mean. It’s not like I’ve been handling it super great either. Only got about three hours of sleep last night and I’m sure you noticed I’ve been spending the day smoking when I thought you weren’t looking. But we hafta talk about this Stanford. Neither of us will be any use to the kids like this.”

“N—No.” Ford cleared his throat, pushing the shakiness out of his voice. “No, I’m fine now, I apologize Stanley, we should head out as soon as possible.”

Stan narrowed his eyes at him. “Don’t ‘Stanley’ me. You’ve always been a terrible liar; you get way too formal when you’re nervous. Anyway, even if ya were fine, we can’t leave yet unless I can get on a plane, and we know approximately where the kids are. So, unless you figured out how to get me back into the states without causing an international incident and haven’t told me, we aren’t going anywhere.”

Ford spun away from Stan and refreshed the computer again. Still nothing. Damn . “I’m waiting to hear back from some contacts in the shadow government,” he replied stiffly. “They normally respond within 24 hours, and this shouldn’t be too difficult for them to figure out. We should call the kids to ascertain where they are.”

Stan shook his head. “Nope!” He replied, far too cheerfully for Ford’s liking. “Not calling ‘em while you’re like this. We talk first, then we call the kids, then ya hear back from your weird shadow whatsits, and we get going.”

Ford groaned and put his head on the table. “You’re really not going to let go of this are you?”

“Nope! Something, something, communication is good for us or whatever. So. Talk, Poindexter.”

Ford closed his eyes. He had literally no clue how to start this conversation. He knew he could be blunt and clinical a lot of the time but not to the extent of just outright saying well you probably don’t remember but once you recounted traumatic memories to me for hours and recently, I’ve been seeing you dead in a ditch whenever I close my eyes. He had to avoid upsetting Stan or throwing him into a flashback of some sort. He had to figure out how to say just enough to put Stan at ease but nothing more.

Stan hummed to himself for a moment then carefully put a hand on Ford’s back. “Would you prefer if I shared as well?”

This got Ford’s attention. He turned enough to see Stan over his arms. “You would share?”

Stan shrugged. “Sure. I know I’m not always the best at it, but I’ve been thinkin and this…situation…is a little close to home. I didn’t want to bother you with it today cause, well. I didn’t want to give you more to worry about but clearly, you’ve already been doin’ enough worrying on your own.”

Ford sighed and took off his glasses, so the world went a little softer around the edges. He liked it when it was blurred like this. The light made strange little fractals around the room and made everything feel slightly unreal. Sometimes that helped him distance from his own mind; helped him to float a bit in the unreality he was creating for himself. “I um. I don’t entirely know where I should start.”

“Well. You could start by explainin’ why you decided drinking whisky today was a good idea.”

“There wasn’t any hot chocolate left.” Ford hadn’t meant to say that. He’d never really been the best at thinking before he spoke, but he also hadn’t ever intended to explain to Stan the reason he insisted on picking up hot chocolate mix every time they were in port.

“I see.” Stan said despite sounding very much as though he didn’t. “We do have other things to drink on board, Ford. We may not have the most stocked pantry in the world, but I am quite certain we have more than hot chocolate powder and whisky.”

“I know that, Stan! But herbal tea doesn’t exactly help settle my nerves.”

“Settle your—” Stan broke off eyeing him. “Bad Brain Day?”

“Mabel got to you too huh?”

Stan actually laughed at that. “Heh. Well, the name sure. But the hot chocolate well. Where do you think she learned that from?”

“Wait, you—”

“Yep!” Stan sounded proud of himself. “Been doin’ it for years. At the beginning of that first summer Mabel was having a lot of trouble sleeping. Now I know she was having nightmares about their parents fighting. At the time though I just assumed it was adjusting to the new place, so I’d make her hot chocolate, and we’d watch tv until she fell asleep.”

“Well in that case yes, I have been experiencing a ‘Bad Brain Day’ as you and Mabel like to put it. Despite making no sense whatsoever, hot chocolate normally is helpful for me. We were out of it, and I was feeling a bit at loose ends for what to do and having trouble focusing and I thought one drink would probably be okay. Clearly, I was incorrect.”

“Alright, so. What have you been thinking about that’s got you so upset.”

Ford sighed and pushed himself up off the table to face Stan. After a moment’s hesitation he slipped his glasses back on. If he was going to do this he should at least do it properly.

“I don’t know how well you remember this Stanley. A few days after Weirdmageddon you had a series of flashbacks in your car, memories of the decade before I fell into the portal. You ended up talking to me at length about them in great detail. Most of them were…very difficult to hear about, to put it lightly. Last night brought them to the forefront of my mind again and I had quite a few…unpleasant dreams about it. Today I have been imagining the kids in those situations and it has been very difficult to keep myself anchored in the current moment.”

Stan looked at him for a long moment, an unreadable expression on his face, before turning away to look down at his own hands. “Well then, we’ve both been very silly it seems like. Dealing with the same exact things on our own for no good reason other than being stubborn old men. I’m sorry that I told you all that back then Ford. I didn’t really mean to. Sorta hoped you’d forgotten most of it.”

“No.” Ford said firmly, finally reaching out to grab his brother’s hand in his own. “It may be unpleasant to think about, but I’m really glad you told me Stanley. It’s not something you should have ever had to go through alone, and since I was too stubborn and angry to be there for you back then, the least I can do now is share the weight of remembering it.”

Stan smiled at him and the angry wrongness beneath Ford’s skin seemed to ease a bit. “I’m grateful for it, Sixer.  And I know it's hard to get through that thick skull of yours, but I’m not mad at you anymore. Haven’t been for a long time. So, it’s no use feelin’ guilty about it. Besides, it wasn’t all bad. I met a lot of interesting people and went a lot of places I never would have gone otherwise. Did I ever tell you the story of the first time I ended up in the desert?”

Ford shook his head and let himself lean over onto Stan as he continued speaking. Through his jacket Ford could hear the strong steady beat of his brother’s heart, alive and well, despite everything. He focused on that sound, holding it inside his mind like a promise that everything would be okay, and part-way through Stan’s description of seeing the milky way for the first time, laid out on the sky like a trail of stolen diamonds, he fell asleep.

...

Ford awoke to the faint ding of an email notification. He gently extricated himself from Stan, who had also dozed off at some point, and pulled the laptop towards him. According to his watch it was almost eight pm, and the cabin was completely dark aside from the faintly glowing screen. The notification had been exactly what he hoped, an email from his contact within the shadow government which simply read DONE . Ford quickly responded with a pdf schematic of the alien tech he had promised in return. He was about to turn to wake Stan when the satellite phone began to ring.

He picked up on the last ring after fumbling his way across the cabin in the dark, ignoring Stan’s confused ‘whoizit?’ from behind him. He saw Mabel's name flash across the screen as he lifted it to his ear. “Hello! Mabel, are you there?”

The static on the phone was almost completely clear this close to land so he was able to hear the faint sound of sirens on the other end of the line. He heard the sound of someone gasp and a panicked “Oh shit!” in what was very clearly Mabel’s voice, before there was a peal of screaming static, and the line went dead.

Ford redialed the number. His heart was hammering in his chest, but he forced himself to hold the phone steady, forced himself to wait. It went to voicemail. He hung up in the middle of his niece’s cheery voice telling him to leave a message after the beep and called Dipper’s number. By the time this had rung through to voicemail Stan was beside him, hand on his shoulder. Ford hung up the phone a second time and looked over at Stan helplessly. “It was Mabel, there were sirens and then there was a burst of static and the line went dead.”

“Did you hear the sound of a crash before the call dropped?” Stan’s voice was a perfect mask of calm.

“No, nothing like that.” Ford started to card his hand through his hair anxiously.

“Ford, listen to me. It’s okay. If there were sirens that means, there’s a police report somewhere and if there’s a police report that means we can pinpoint where they were. I’ll call McGucket and get him to start looking.”

Ford reached out to hand the phone to his brother and his watch caught his eye. He and Stan both had them. They were smaller, fancier counterparts to the clock they had made for the twins last year. Both his and Stan’s were digital with three different bars showing their time, the twins’ time, and the town’s time. They were programmed to update automatically whenever they switched time zones, or the kids changed the time on their clock. Currently the kids’ time read midnight. Which would have been fine, except that his clock read 8:04. It should be 12:04 wherever Mabel and Dipper were, unless for some reason their clock wasn’t working anymore, unless it had stopped exactly at the moment the call dropped, unless something was very, very wrong.

“Stan,” he croaked out distantly, hating how afraid his voice sounded, “Is your watch working?”

His brother paused, glancing down at his wrist. “Something weird seems to be going on with the kids but the other two are okay…” his voice trailed off and he looked up at Ford. “What does this mean, Ford?”

“It means McGucket better find that police report fast.”

[justthisgirlsworld]

Usually I’m the one giving out advice on here, but I think it’s my time to ask you guys now.

Ever since breaking up with my ex, my life has gone downhill.

Now, don’t get me wrong, getting back with him would NOT solve my problems. He moved on insanely fast. Ridiculed me. Threatened me. Sexually assaulted me. Was possessive and controlling and overall made me lose myself and reduced me to nothing but a stay at home, housewife in our future plans (which is a lovely life, but, it’s not me at all).

But, I’ve since lost a lot of friends? At first, everyone was on my side, backing me up, but slowly, they got bored of it and just started talking to him again. Even friends of mine who weren’t overly keen of him when we were dating are now wanting to, or even going ahead and talking to him, exclaiming that I can’t choose who people can talk to and that there are “two sides to every story.”

They are right, I’m aware of that. But, I would love some loyalty!!

I wasn’t perfect in the relationship, I know that too. I could be stressy, and at times, over emotional. Taking out my stress from the day on him. But, for the majority of the time, I kept up this act of perfection. I was nurturing, and maternal, and loving and his perfect, pretty trophy for him to show off. I stopped listening to music I liked, because he didn’t like it, stopped wearing clothes I liked, because he didn’t like them, cut off certain friends, because he didn’t like them - and put up with his friends constantly ridiculing me, just for him to never defend me.

I feel incredibly lonely. I’ve tried so hard to put myself out there, to make new friends after having my life revolve around him for the past two and a half years - but everyone else has pre-established connections and so they don’t care much for me. Plus, I can be quiet and awkward around new people.

It frustrates me to see him so easily get into a new relationship, and be surrounded by close (but not particularly nice) friends, even having my own friends go and speak to him now. I don’t know what to do.

My only gratification in this scenario is that, since splitting up, I am much more free and comfortable within myself than I was with him. I can wear what I like. Speak to who I please. Have opinions of my own and not have to worry about him freaking out because I said or did the “wrong” thing. I don’t constantly have his hands on me, and I’m not forced into doing sexual favours for a man that I felt constantly sick and headachy around. I no longer have greasy hair, nor break out because I am not around him anymore. Not only that, but, I look so much more beautiful. I am glowing (if I do say so myself). For a while, I slipped back into old eating disorder habits, and so, lost a lot of weight. I was already borderline underweight, so this wasn’t good. But I’m back on track now, with less weight in my face, beautifully dyed hair, makeup skills on point, a defined style and my old confidence back.

I just wish that the social aspect of my life was improved? I know I can’t just manifest a friendship, or, relationship and hope it to somehow fall into my lap. I just think, if I had a best friend, or, a guy/girl showed interest in me - maybe things would be a bit easier? What do you guys think? And do you have any tips for me?

[hojichasunrise]

I'm suffering severe anxiety and burnout because of RTO. I would be thriving if this was remote or at least hybrid. Instead I am on the verge of death. And for what? RTO benefits no one and makes employees resentful and want to quit. Yet they keep mindlessly cramming RTO down our throats.

I hate my field and only went into it because it is remote capable. Now I am miserable in a cubicle on my phone killing time 5 hours a day because I only have 3 hours of work (and no one can honestly do actual work 8 hours a day, everyone is and always has screwed around to waste hours, because we are human and not labor robots.) My coworkers stand around and gossip about football 3 hours a day or more. They are never at their desks, they are always huddled up cooing over sportsball. And they are middle aged men. This is NOT me being lazy, it is simple reality. Imagine if they just admitted it and shortened the workday to 5 or 6 hours. Half our medical issues would disappear overnight from the abatement of stress and the ability to get sufficient sleep and exercise and time to cook to eat healthy. But no! We all have to play the 40 hour charade. Because that is what some asshole 100 years ago decided.

My work quality would be better and I wouldnt be getting in trouble if they just let me wfh. But they don't. I have so much anxiety and dread trying to force myself out the door in the morning that I often get in 10 min late, so I get reprimanded... But if they let me wfh I would be on time 100% of the time. So does punctuality matter or doesn't it? Everything is a 1 way street and like trying to reason with a brick wall. If punctuality really does matter let me wfh. If they don't concede that it feels hypocritical to punish me for a problem they caused and have the power to solve, but they won't give us this one single concession.

Benefits are gone, pay is crap--wfh was the only thing we had, and they took it away just to be petty and lord over us about how powerless we are. Employers are making work harder than it has to be and everyone suffers. Not to mention the recruiting process is god damned hell. Ghost jobs?!?!??! What psychopath comes up with that. These fucking employers need to be put against a wall. With all the other shit--unaffordable education, sky high insane job application requirements, insane competition with hundreds of applications for every job opening, garbage pay, slashed benefits, zero stability, hours creep from 9-5 to 8-5... what the fuck are they offering?

Now I can't even cry in the privacy of my own home, I am forced into a godforsaken miserable office.

Cost of living has doubled in 5 years and jobs respond by paying LESS. The same position pays less now than it did in 2015-2018. But rent is double. And now employers are actively colluding to suppress wages--in every industry. They are not even hiding it, they admit it. I am tired of being fucked over.

man FUCK work-life balance. work should not be this central to our lives. the idea that we're meant to perfectly balance equal parts Work and Everything Else is so so dismal

[cjp-film]

Shooting days and Critical reflection

Shooting on March 23rd, 24th and 26th 2023.

Day 1

After the amount of preparation and organisation I had gone through before the shoot, I was not expecting it to go as disastrously as it did on day 1. We had multiple logistical issues in the morning such as no risk assessment which meant no equipment. Luckily, we had a few of our own stuff but not enough for a professional looking film to be shot with. We also did not have access to the location as the host was not responding to our messages. This was super stressful as we were already on our way to Carluke, and so were the actors. Instead, we had to take cover in a coffee shop for 2 hours waiting on these problems to be solved back in edinburgh. Upon meeting the actors, they seemed quite relieved to have the time to go over their lines, especially Joseph, who was cast as Derek. Our original actor for Derek had dropped out a couple of days before, and Joseph agreed to help us out with a few days notice, therefore hadn’t had a chance to look over the lines. As myself and Eugenia went through the script with the actors, Duncan was sorting out some lighting plans and shot types in specific relation to the set, which he had not seen before. We decided that in light of how things played out that day, we would use the time we have with the actors (and location, once we had it) to practice blocking and set ups. It actually ended up being a really useful day, ensuring that the rest of the shoot went smoothly. It did mean, however, we needed to reschedule another day of shooting with the actors. We wanted to get it done as soon as possible so chose the following Sunday, where we were lucky enough to have the availability of both the actors, but unlucky that we only had half the crew. It was still manageable though. 

Day 2

Day 2 went incredibly smoothly, like it was too good to be true. This was definitely due to the practice we had had the day before. Finally with the proper equipment and access to the location, we were ready to go. We weren’t pushed for time too much, and got everything that we needed to shoot that day done. We had set up the production design the day before, placing the props where they needed to be and tidying up elements of the household which we didn’t need in the shots, so we got shooting very quickly in the morning. Each shot was short and didn’t have too many lines, so it was easy for the actors to memorise therefore we didn’t go overboard with the takes. We had Ashleigh taking camera and sound notes and Eugenia doubling as first AD (although in the equipment issue we never got a clapperboard so had to make do with a fake one) so everyone was super busy on set. We ordered the shots by whichever room or time of day it was set in the script, so there wouldn’t be continuity issues. 

Day 3

The Sunday was the extra day we had on location, and with half the crew it was slightly more stressful. I had to take on the roles of first AD, producer and script superviser, as well as directing so I had a lot on my plate. Duncan and Matthew were both great with getting on with cinematography and sound, and I couldn’t be more grateful to the actors for agreeing to join us on the third day. We unfortunately didn’t have a tripod this day therefore it was difficult for Duncan to keep the camera still, resulting in the majority of the footage we shot this day being handheld, even where we didn’t want it to be. I also changed one of the set ups last minute, which thankfully Duncan handled well because I messed up his organised plan! In the kitchen scene I suggested we use a pan instead of a static shot to integrate a bit more camera movement and break up the scenes. This is also a pivotal point in the film so I wanted it to be one of the best scenes. When we called a wrap I think it was very relieving since it was quite stressful and today we were pushed for time. We had to get Chris, who played Andrew, back to edinburgh in time for an audition so had to leave early. But overall, I am pleased with the coverage we got. 

Post production

Once we had transferred the files over to Ashleigh, it was up to her to get the shots on the timeline and reach picture lock. I was surprised at how fast she was able to edit, and was getting rough cuts in no time. We stayed close in contact as she was constantly asking for feedback and making changes, although overall I was pretty happy with what she had achieved. Some of the changes we made were:

- Adding titles for the date. We thought this would be a good idea as it would be as though Andrew was documenting his memories as they were happening - like chapters of his book.

- Removing the montage sequence we shot. It didn’t look good and the changes in each shot were too minor for them to be noticed as days passing. It was also too distracting with the titles. 

- Switching around some of the scenes to correspond with the voiceover sequences. 

Once we had picture lock, we handed the file over to Matthew to begin sound designing, and Duncan to work on the colour grade. Matthew’s job was mainly adding in voiceovers and cleaning up dialogue. We also added in some extra sound effects, all which he had recorded on set so there was no need for a foley session. One of the final decisions we made for the sound was to add in some diegetic music in Andrew’s office - simply to add to his character and give the room some life. We debated adding a score but found it difficult finding the right music and where to put it without it sounding cheesy. We also found that in some places, the silence was more powerful. 

For the colour grade, Duncan and I decided to up the contrast to accentuate the dramatic lighting, and also make the scenes warmer to give the film a homely mood. This is to add to the aesthetic of the film, making it look professional and of high quality. 

The Critique

Overall, I was pretty happy with the feedback we were given. Some things they picked up on included:

- Good location

- Slightly confusing timeline - dates don’t help

- The handheld shots were too random and inconsistent

- Horizons were off

- Could use some close ups for more emotional parts of the film

- Enjoyment of the simplicity overall

- Colour grade looks good, but higher contrast needed

- Fades between scenes don’t work, use that time to establish place or relationship.

I think this feedback is really useful in terms of what we could have done differently. Most of it we did consider, such as not using the fades - but in my opinion, without them, the pacing was too quick. This shows that instead, we could have used close ups to linger on moments for longer, slowing the pace down and accentuating the emotion. We were aware of the dodgy filming but this is due to the logistical issues which we could have avoided, but were unlucky. 

In my opinion, we made a solid film that I am proud of and, with a few adjustments and a bit of luck, could potentially get into some festivals.

FA

[nerdzzone]

-More Hearts Than Mine-

Summary: Raising a child is hard. Raising a child with one of Hollywood’s biggest stars is even harder. And raising a child with one of Hollywood’s biggest stars who you’re not actually in a relationship with is even harder still.

Especially when a global pandemic is sweeping the world.

With lockdowns and stay at home orders looming on the horizon, the uncertainty of their situation becomes almost too much for Whitney Taylor to handle. Chris suggests that they quarantine together to avoid any potential separations but, given what happened the last time they spent more than a few brief moments in each other’s company, that could cause more problems than it solves…

Chris Evans x OFC

Sequel to: Once Bitten - Twice Shy

Part Two

____

Part Three

I did my best to take Scott's words to heart. It was eye-opening and, while it didn't change my concerns about how Grayson would be affected, it helped me soften my guard a little bit when it came to Chris.

We were both in over our heads, stuck with feelings that we didn't know what to do with and insecurities that left us unable to fight for what we wanted. I had doubts and I had questions, but if what Scott had divulged was true then I did have some sympathy for Chris because I knew exactly how he'd been feeling for the last few years.

So, I decided to talk to him. To hash it out, lay it all on the table and see what he had to say. I wasn't entirely sure I would change my mind about the situation, but I wanted to give him a chance to explain his thoughts and feelings unlike how I'd shut the conversation down after Christmas.

But I didn't count on how chaotic it was to be trapped in a house, all day every day, with a child who was almost three. Even with three adults, there were days when it felt like we were the ones who were outnumbered as we took turns trying to keep him constantly entertained and stimulated. To our credit, it was working and we were managing to keep Grayson from being bored, anxious to go out to a park or noticing that things were all that different, but it meant that I had no time or energy to deal with heavy conversations. Things were fine between Chris and I, we were getting along well enough with no more noteworthy disagreements, but there hadn't been a good time for any kind of heart-to-heart.

Things only got more complicated about a week and a half into our lockdown when Chris had to start doing interviews. He had a new show, Defending Jacob, coming out in a few weeks and he had to start the promo for it.

Most people who were working from home these days with small children running around had way more difficult situations to balance than we did, but we knew it would be tricky to keep Grayson from getting curious and barging into an interview. He'd proven to be quite sneaky when he wanted to be and Chris was anxious about the whole thing. He wasn't a big fan of interviews at the best of times so doing it over Zoom made him even more nervous. He spent the whole morning fretting about it being awkward, concerned that he wouldn't be able to relax and act natural, and it seemed like he was channelling his anxiety into his worries about Grayson. He very much liked to be in control of what the world saw of Gray and having him crash an interview wasn't what he wanted. I completely agreed and assured him several times that I wouldn't let that happen, but I could tell he was still stressed about it as he dragged himself off to get ready.

For the first hour or so that Chris was working, things went well. We read a story and played with some Lego, activities that wouldn't get Grayson too excited and noisy, but when Scott suggested that he curl up on the couch and watch Finding Nemo with him, we ran into a problem.

"Okay!" Grayson cheered, jumping up from where we'd been playing on the floor. "Be right back!"

He took off down the hall and I leapt into action, calling his name and stopping him just as he got to the bottom of the stairs.

"Where are you going, buddy?"

"To get my bear!"

Grayson's room was upstairs, next to Chris' office. He knew where Chris was so I knew there was a good chance he would stop by to say hello on his way past the door.

"Why don't you go get settled on the couch with Uncle Scott and I'll get your bear so you don't miss any of the movie?" I suggested. "Is he in your room?"

"No," he shook his head. "He's in Daddy's office."

I held back a groan, knowing that Gray would not be happy if I explained that he couldn't have his bear for the movie because we weren't allowed in Daddy's office right now. But I also knew that now he'd decided that he wanted to watch a movie, it wasn't likely that he would settle doing anything else either.

"Well, Daddy's very busy in his office right now," I explained. "But I'll go upstairs and see if I can sneak in and get him, okay?"

Grayson agreed to that suggestion and ran off back towards the living room as I glanced at the clock on the wall quickly and hoped that Chris was between interviews. I knew he wouldn't be done for the day just yet, but he had a few lined up so there was a chance that he wasn't currently on a call.

As soon as I pressed my ear to the door of Chris' office, my hopes were dashed. I could hear the sound of laughter echoing through from his laptop so I knew he was in the middle of something, but just as I was about to walk away I heard something that caught my attention.

"You have a son of your own, don't you?" The interviewer asked and I cringed, knowing that it wasn't something Chris liked to discuss. His character in the show was a father though so I wasn't surprised it had come up, it gave them a segue that they hadn't really had before. "How is that going with this lockdown?"

Ever the professional, Chris didn't even hesitate before he answered even though I knew he would be annoyed by the line of questioning.

"Oh, it's great! He's staying with me until all this is over so it's great that we get to spend so much time together," he told the interviewer. "I'm lucky enough to be in a situation where I can just take a few months off until things cool down without too much worry so we've just been relaxing, building blanket forts, watching movies and getting in some bonding time that I miss out on when I'm busy. It's had some challenges, but it's been really nice."

I knew I shouldn't be listening, it was rude to eavesdrop even if the conversation would shortly be broadcast to the whole world, but again, the interviewer's next question had me too intrigued to walk away. Despite all the talking points that he could have chosen from Chris' answer, he zeroed in on one thing.

"He's staying with you for the entire lockdown? Is there a rekindled romance we don't know about?" He asked. "Or is his mother no longer in the picture?"

My jaw dropped. I didn't know who Chris was talking with today, but it wasn't like his team to set him up for any interviews where he would be asked questions like that and most interviewers were too polite to fish for the kind of gossip you'd find in a trashy magazine.

"Oh, I'm not gonna get into all that." Chris' tone was much more clipped than it had been moments before - he was clearly not impressed by the question either. "It's not anyone's business really, is it? But I will say that she is definitely in the picture and one of the best moms that I know. She's staying here with us too."

My heart melted a bit at his compliment even though I knew the words he added at the end meant that we were in for a whole new gossip storm.

It suddenly felt like I really was overstepping by standing at the door listening to this conversation without his knowledge so I headed back downstairs. As I got back into the living room, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and sent a message to Chris:

It would appear that you have a stowaway. I know you're busy, but please return Mr. Bear at your earliest convenience.

I put my phone away as I explained the situation to Grayson, but luckily, he was too interested in the movie to pay much attention to what I'd said. By the time Chris came down with the bear, it was like he'd forgotten that he ever cared about it in the first place.

Most of my attention was on Chris at that point though. The way he scurried into the room, avoiding looking in my direction at all. He looked ashamed and withdrawn and I couldn't hold back a sigh when he left the room quickly as I knew that he was beating himself up over the conversation that he didn't even know I'd heard.

-

Chris was sullen for the rest of the day. He perked up around Grayson, but whenever Gray was distracted there was a scowl or a frown firmly planted on his face. I wanted to say something, but I didn't know how without confessing that I'd overheard his interview. Given his mood and the ease with which we fell into disagreements these days, that seemed like it would cause more issues than it would help.

The news broke at about eleven that night and I knew because I was suddenly inundated with texts from friends and with follower requests on my private social media accounts. I pulled up the video and watched the interview, feeling another wave of empathy when I saw the annoyance written all over Chris' face as he answered the questions. He'd found a subtle way to shut the interview down almost immediately after the incident and I was proud of him for handling it so diplomatically.

I added it to the list of things that I needed to talk to Chris about whenever I got the chance as I pulled myself away from my laptop and headed to the bathroom to brush my teeth before bed. However, when I got into the hallway, I noticed a light coming up from downstairs. As far as I knew, everyone had gone to bed almost an hour ago, but I had a good idea whose thoughts would be keeping them awake so I headed down to investigate.

My suspicions were confirmed as I walked into the living room and saw Chris on the couch, his phone in his hand and his brow furrowed.

"Uh oh," I started, making his eyes snap up towards me. "Are you doomscrolling?"

The angry look on his face softened slightly as he raised an eyebrow at me.

"Doomscrolling?"

"Yeah," I shrugged with a smile. "That's what the kids call it these days when you spend too long scrolling through the news or Twitter, just soaking in all the bad shit in the world."

Chris chuckled as I moved into the room and sat on the opposite end of the couch that he was on, tucking my feet underneath me.

"I didn't know you were so down with the kids these days."

"I'm getting old, Chris. I'm almost thirty-two, I have to stay cool somehow." I shot him a wink. "But anyway, what are you reading that's making you look so grumpy?"

Chris sighed and locked his phone, putting it on the end table next to the couch.

"I said something in an interview today," he admitted. "Something that I shouldn't have said."

I watched him for a moment, waiting for him to look at me and elaborate, but when he didn't, I spoke up.

"I hope you're not about to tell me that you regret saying what a good mom I am or I'll be really disappointed..."

That comment brought Chris' gaze back to me, his shock evident on his face until it faded into a grimace.

"You heard what I said?"

"I watched the video," I admitted. "I had a flurry of Instagram activity that tipped me off."

"You didn't read the comments, did you?"

There was worry written all over Chris' face when I shrugged.

"Of course I did. Can't have my self-esteem getting too high, can we?" I was teasing, but his look of gloom only deepened. "Chris, it doesn't matter. I'm no supermodel, they're not saying anything I don't already know."

"See, this is what bothers me," Chris snapped. "My so-called 'fans' are out there spewing all this crap about you and you're acting like it's all true, so who cares? Well, I care because it's bullshit and you don't deserve it!"

"I didn't mean it like that," I assured him, keeping my voice quiet in an attempt to cool the situation.

We'd been here many times over the years and I knew how enraged the comments made Chris. He saw right through me, he knew that I took some of the things that had been said to heart, but who wouldn't? It's hard not to take it personally when someone points out your biggest insecurities, the things that you hope no one else notices, the things that you tell yourself can't possibly be true or as bad as you think in your head. It's impossible not to let it get to you a little bit, but I was well practiced at dealing with it and had grown a thicker skin.

At least, when it came to the comments about my appearance. The comments about how I'm not good enough and how Chris could do better always struck a cord, but it was nothing I couldn't handle.

"No?" Chris huffed. "What did you mean then?"

"That I know I'm an easy target because I'm not stick thin with a boob job," I answered, wanting to diffuse the situation before Chris got too upset. "They're cruel and mean, but they're just jealous because they think their dream boyfriend is taken now."

"Well, anyone who claims to be a real fan of mine wouldn't talk like that about someone I care about," he grumbled. "I shouldn't have answered, I should have just ignored the question."

"Actually, I'm glad you didn't. I'm glad you set the record straight rather than have everyone think I've abandoned my child. I would probably get even more hate for that."

"He shouldn't have even asked about it," Chris continued. "It was so out of line. Why can't people just mind their own business?"

"Because everyone adores you and has a burning desire to know everything about you," I teased, stretching my feet out to nudge his leg gently. His lips twitched briefly into a smile, but it faded as fast as it appeared. "Even my friends were all messaging me, asking if it was true like gossiping teenage girls. Everyone wants the Chris Evans scoop."

That comment earned me a chuckle and I relaxed slightly, hoping that he was starting to calm down.

"I'm sure your friends were more interested in the gossip about your life, not because of me."

"I dunno," I shrugged. "They always liked you."

Chris smiled, but a sigh slipped from his lips as he draped his arm over my feet where they rested on the couch next to him. We sat quietly for a moment as I continued watching him, wishing there was something I could say to ease the worry in his mind, but his next words left me a little bit speechless.

"I do get it, you know?" He said, his eyes still fixed firmly on the ground in front of him. "I get why you wouldn't want to be with me. I get that it's a lot to deal with."

My heart sank at his admission and I scrambled to figure out what to say.

It wasn't ideal - discussing our relationship, while he was already feeling quite murderous - but he'd brought it up and it was hard to say when we'd get another chance. Once again, I found myself fighting the urge to bolt for the door, but I swallowed hard and took a deep breath, hoping that this would be a civil conversation.

"Chris, it's not that," I insisted, my voice soft in what I hoped would be a soothing tone. "Maybe they didn't do anything to ease my concerns, but the bullies on the internet aren't what scared me away."

"No?" His eyes flicked up to meet mine. "Then what did?"

He sounded so defeated and I bit my lip to keep my emotions from bubbling up. The truth was that I didn't know where to start. There was too much floating around my head, too many questions and too many explanations that made less sense now that I knew what I knew after speaking with Scott. I was scared, but it was a very justified fear that could only be made sense of by answering his question with another question.

"Why didn't you tell me that you were in love with me?"

Chris raised an eyebrow, but shrugged off the question.

"You didn't seem like you wanted to hear it, Whitney. I told you that I was all in after Christmas and you shut me down pretty fast," he pointed out. "I didn't think blurting out a confession of love would do much to change that."

Had that been what I was referring to, it would have been a fair argument. However, I was referring to long before our latest incident so I shook my head.

"I talked to Scott," I confessed as a slight look of betrayal slid onto Chris’ face. "Don't be mad, he'd had a few drinks and was feeling sentimental. He told me that you were in love with me long before Grayson was even in the picture, but you never told me."

"I slept with you, didn't I?" He questioned, a defensiveness creeping into his tone. "Doesn't that make someone's feelings pretty fuckin' clear?"

"Hardly," I scoffed. "People sleep with people they're not in love with all the time and it becomes even less clear when they meet up afterwards to have a discussion about their relationship and that someone makes no mention of being in love."

"Was it really a discussion? Or did I show up at your apartment just to hear you lay out the ground rules?"

I faltered slightly as I thought back, but after a moment of reflection, I nodded.

"It was a discussion."

"I believe the first words out of your mouth were 'I think we both know that we're better off as friends'," he informed me. "Doesn't leave much room for debate."

"I was scared." That confession came out less confidently, but I found my voice again quickly. "And I assumed that's what you wanted too because you never pushed back."

He cocked his head to the side, a hint of a smirk on his face.

"You weren't the only one who was scared."

"I was the only one who was pregnant," I retorted, my tone growing harsher as my frustrations started to rise. "I was the only one who was trying to make a massive life decision while hormonal and growing another human being inside of them."

"That's fair," Chris nodded, his voice much calmer than I expected after my burst of annoyance. "But I wasn't about to pour my heart out and tell you how I felt when you kept talking about what a mistake we'd made as if you'd never regretted anything more in your life."

"Getting pregnant was a mistake," I clarified. "I love Grayson and I wouldn't change it for anything, but we can't say it wasn't a mistake at the time given our situation."

"A situation that you didn't want to change."

"Only because you never told me how you felt," I shot back. "I didn't want you to commit to something out of a sense of obligation. I didn't want you to put up with me for a few years until you dumped me for someone more in your league who you actually cared about."

There was a look of surprise on Chris' face at that revelation as it became more and more obvious to both of us that we hadn't been as good at communicating as we may have thought. It seemed we'd both been so convinced that we knew exactly how the other person felt that we hadn't bothered to actually ask them.

"But I did care about you," he assured me. "And you never told me how you felt either."

"I slept with you, didn't I?"

There was a smirk on my face as I threw his words back at him despite the anxiety that was bubbling inside me.

"A wise woman just informed me that sleeping with someone doesn't necessarily mean anything," he teased, a soft smile on his face. "But I think it's safe to say that we were both cowards."

"Again, in my defence, I was pregnant," I reminded him. "I was trying to make a logical decision while my brain was muddled with hormones."

"But you could have told me after," he pointed out. "We lived together for year after he was born, Whitney, and you never even dropped a hint."

"Oh, please," I snorted out a harsh laugh. "Do you remember what that year was like? We had a newborn baby who never slept for more than ten minutes at a time and you were flying in and out for the first six months, filming one of the Avengers movies. I was delirious, exhausted and emotionally wrecked. I wasn't in the right head space to give much thought to our relationship."

"So, if I had made a move back then? Would it have made a difference?" He asked. "Because it didn't seem to matter much a few months ago."

This was the real issue at hand.

It was all well and good to talk about the past and how we'd managed to come this far so oblivious to each other's feelings, but the real discussion was where we were at now. And the truth was, that I didn't know.

I opened my mouth to answer, but shut it as my words escaped me. I shifted nervously, shrugging under his stare until a sigh fell from my lips.

"I'm not sure anymore," I admitted. "If you'd told me how you felt back then, if you fought for us to be together then I might've been swayed."

"But now?"

"Now, I think we made the right decision for Grayson."

Chris was still staring me down, his eyes locked on mine as if he was looking into my soul. It was an intensity that was hard to endure and I was relieved when he spoke again, despite how his words made my heart ache.

"But what about the right decision for us?"

"That's not what's important," I insisted. "I've seen so many of my friends struggle through their parents' bitter divorces, I don't want that for Gray. I don't want us to lose our ability to work as a team and put him first."

"Yeah, you mentioned that several times," Chris huffed. "But I don't see why you're so fuckin' convinced that we'd end up hating each other."

His frustration and impatience was shining through and I felt my panic rising again. Chris had made his stance clear and I knew I needed to make a decision soon or my lack of decision would decide for me, but I felt like I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. The thought of not being with Chris made my heart ache especially now that I knew the extent of his feelings, but the thought of being with him and the consequences that could come from that set every anxious nerve in my body on edge.

I found myself scrambling for something to say that was non-committal, but would placate the situation. I floundered until, fortunately, a tiny voice from the doorway saved me.

"Daddy said a bad word..."

I leapt off the couch, desperate for any excuse to get away and Chris raised his eyebrow at my swift reaction. I ignored him as I looked at Grayson, who was rubbing his eyes with one hand and clutching his bear in the other. He looked so small, standing there in his little flannel pajamas and I smiled at the sight.

"That is a bad word," I agreed. "Daddy shouldn't have said it. But what are you doing up?"

"I had a bad dream."

His voice was small as he was still half asleep and Chris stood, following me over as I walked towards him.

"I'm sorry to hear that, buddy," he said, lifting him up in his arms. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," Grayson shook his head. "It was scary."

"Awe, I'm sorry, sweetheart," I frowned as I rubbed his back, my heart melting at how small he looked in Chris' arms. "Do you want me to tuck you back in or Daddy?"

He rested his head on Chris' chest and pulled his bear so close that his answer got muffled by the stuffed animal's fur.

"I want to sleep in Daddy's bed..."

I looked up at Chris, letting him decide if that was okay, but he was already nodding his head.

"Sure, we can do that," he assured him. "But don't hog all the blankets this time, okay?"

Grayson giggled and I smiled as they headed to the door.

"Goodnight, boys," I called to them before they disappeared. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Goodnight." Chris paused to answer me and flashed me a look that made me feel like a schoolgirl being scolded by the principal. "This conversation isn't over."

It felt like a foreboding warning and it left me so flustered that all I could do was nod before he turned and continued on his way to his bedroom.

He was right.

Our conversation couldn't end there unless we wanted another four years of miscommunication and mutual longing, but I didn't know what to do. I wasn't trying to be difficult, but both options seemed destined to lead to heartache. Of course, I had no evidence to prove that we wouldn't live happily ever after, but he was Chris Evans. He was the man that women all over America, all over the world, would kill to be with. And I was just me. Once I fell off whatever pedestal he'd put me on in his mind and he realized how ordinary and unremarkable I was, it wouldn't last.

And I couldn't spend the rest of my life waiting for the other shoe to drop.

With a sigh, I headed to the stairs. My head was a mess despite my hopes that talking to Chris would bring me some clarity. It seemed I was starting a pattern of coming away from late night conversations with more questions than answers, but I was beginning to think that might be due to the fact that I would never be told what I wanted to hear. No one could make this decision for me and no one could make it a fool proof choice.

There was always a risk when it came to love. I just had to decide if that risk was worth it and start being honest with myself about why I was so scared. Were my intentions really as noble as I wanted everyone to believe? Or was I using Grayson as a shield to protect my own heart from pain as much as his?

-

Part Four

Tags:  @maggotzombie @moonlacebeam @mizzzpink @zaylaugh @flowery-mess @flowerjewels @njrronaldo7 @hockeychick10

[the-modernmary]

my best habit || aaron hotchner x reader (prologue)

Summary: When Aaron Hotchner ended your affair with him, saying that a serial killer was going after him and his family, you were content with the idea that you'd probably never see him again. Two years have come and gone since then, but when you get dragged into an FBI investigation as a key witness, you and Hotch are forced to come face to face with all the things left unsaid.

Warnings: Age gap (15-ish years), smut, degradation, unprotected sex. This story is 18+ older. This is not a story for minors.

A/N: Hello, hello!! I figured that since I've made a writing tumblr, I should post my story on here!! This is a multichapter story, so I am very excited to go on this journey with y'all!! I already have multiple chapters written and published, so these should be coming out VERY quickly. If you don't want to wait to catch up, you can read everything I have on ao3! This chapter starts as a flashback, and then the next chapter and the rest from here on out will be actual plot!

masterlist || read on ao3

“If you were waitin’ on the sunshine, blue sky

Cheap high, lullaby

Then my best habit’s letting you down”

- The Maine, “My Best Habit”

Two years earlier

Your eyes scanned the University Ballroom, your champagne glass practically ignored in your hand. You hated all these alumni networking galas and avoided going to them as much as possible. Old, sleazy lawyers with much younger women on their arm reliving their best cases with each other and expecting all the new law students to laugh when they were able to get their defendant acquitted because of some dumb technicality. It made you sick.

It didn’t help that you were already going in with a bad attitude. Your ex-boyfriend had dropped by your apartment that morning to pick up the rest of his stuff, and he decided that the best person to help him with that was the girl he had been cheating on you with. You caught them together three weeks ago, and you had been so stressed from midterms that you hadn’t even had the chance to go out, get drunk, and have wildly irresponsible rebound sex.

But you had to suck it up for the night, at least until you were able to get the answer you came for. After that, you could go back to your apartment, replace your too tight and too short dress with some nice pajamas, and watch trashy reality TV until you passed out on your couch.

You scanned the room a few more times until you caught sight of a tall man in a dark suit leaning against the bar. Bingo. You set your champagne flute down and ran over to him as fast as your heels could take you. Once you were just a few steps away, you quickly composed yourself and walked straight into his line of sight.

SSA Aaron Hotchner rarely came to alumni events here at George Washington Law School, citing that he wasn’t even a prosecutor anymore and had much more important work to do back at the BAU, but he was going as favor to his old law school buddy. Plus, it was either coming to this or going out to the bar with the team, and seeing as he had just signed the divorce papers with Haley, he wanted to be somewhere he wasn’t going to be profiled all night. The free champagne was also a bonus.

When you saw that his name was on the RSVP list, you knew that you had to go.

“Agent Hotchner?” you asked, giving him your best straight A student smile.

He refused to look up right away, not giving you the chance to charm him. “I’m not currently on duty. If there is a case you would like the BAU to look over, that’s handled by our media liaison,” he said absently, taking another sip of champagne.

You frowned but kept your hand out for him to shake. “That’s not what I’m here for, I-” You took a breath to compose yourself. “My name is Y/N Y/L/N. I’m a first year here- getting a joint JD and masters in forensic psychology. My goal is to become a prosecutor,” you pressed, and you were rewarded when he perked up in interest. He slid his drink on the table.

“Most law firms don’t usually want a prosecutor who’s going to empathize with the person you’re prosecuting,” he mused, and shook your hand, his grip just tight enough to pass as faux politeness.

You shook your head and clasped your hands behind your back, trying to ignore how warm his hands were. “I think the best prosecutors empathize with the defendants,” you admitted. “Isn’t that how you succeeded as both a prosecutor and as a federal agent? That’s actually why I came to you, I wanted to ask you a question... about my thesis,” you added quickly, figuring that the best way to get him to talk to you.

Aaron’s posture changed from half asleep to maybe listening, and your face went red. Sure, you only came to the event to talk to him, but you never thought that you’d actually get Aaron Hotchner to pay attention to you. “I didn’t empathize with the people I was putting in jail,” he told you, his voice ice cold. “That didn’t come until I worked in the BAU, and even now, I wouldn’t call it empathy. Just understanding of how they became the type of person they are.” He leaned sideways on the bar counter and you felt yourself shrink under his gaze. You shifted slightly and felt the hem of your dress move up your thighs ever so slightly. Aaron noticed too, if the lick of his lips was anything to go by.

You took his silence as your signal to ask your question. “You offered Jessica Michaelson a lesser sentence that had her released in just three years despite the fact that she murdered her brother in cold blood in his sleep. You had the evidence, why didn’t you push for premeditation?” you asked, and his eyebrow quirked upwards. “In the case The People vs. Michaelson,” you added unnecessarily, trying to break the silence.

“I know the case you’re referring to. I was the lead on it,” he reminded you, his voice edging on dangerous. “You know, most people aren’t interested in my days as a lawyer.”

You shrugged, hoping to appear more confident than you felt. “I’m not most people,” you agreed, biting down on your lower lip. His gaze was so intense, and it was affecting you in ways you couldn’t have imagined. It was turning you on, you realized with a start. It had been a while since you had last had sex, and it was driving you only slightly crazy. “But that doesn’t answer my question.”

Aaron grabbed a champagne flute from a server walking by, and shoved it in your direction. You grabbed it cautiously. “Did you read the police report on the case?” he asked, and you nodded wordlessly, taking a sip of the champagne. The alcohol was making you bolder, and you stepped towards him. “Then you’ll know that there was very little physical evidence tying her to the muder. We chose to offer the charge that would have stuck instead of risking her being found not guilty.”

You gritted your teeth together in an effort to calm yourself down. “She murdered four people within the six months after she was released from prison,” you reminded him.

That seemed to have struck a chord with Aaron, and his steely persona seemed to fade ever so slightly. He sighed exasperatedly; you were obviously getting on his nerves. “The prints and DNA that were collected and put into VICAP when she was in prison are what got her caught in the end, and that was the evidence needed to lock her away for life. We wouldn’t have gotten those prints without her original charge. It all worked out.”

You groaned and threw your hands in the air. “You couldn’t have predicted that, though,” you argued. “And people have been found guilty with way less evidence than you had in the original case. I think you just felt bad for her, considering her brother was a real piece of shit.” You were being difficult now, you knew that. But there was something about Aaron Hotcher that was pulling you in, and you wanted to see how far you could push him.

Aaron gave you a predatory grin and he stepped towards you ever so slightly, finishing his drink. He must have had multiple drinks too, judging by the soft flush on his face. “Oh, you do?” He seemed amused now. He slowly raked his eyes from your face, down your neck, and down the rest of your body, and you forgot how to breath. You knew that it was inappropriate and that he was a highly respected FBI agent, even if he was kind of an asshole at the moment. You also knew that the two of you were crossing lines that neither of you should have even been close to, but you shivered under the weight of his gaze all the same.

You shifted back and forth, your brain trying to process what was happening. “Yeah, I do. And I know that you transferred to the FBI after Michaelson was arrested again, which makes me think that this case was your breaking point,” you ranted, your hands becoming more and more animated.

Aaron chuckled, but there was very little amusement behind it. “Are you sure you want to be a lawyer?” he asked, cocking his head to the side. “Because you’re starting to talk like a profiler.”

You arched an eyebrow at him. “No thanks,” you said firmly, and he just shrugged before making a move to walk past you. You sidestepped in front of him, effectively blocking him from going anywhere. But it was obvious that he was done talking about this.

In your mind, you had two options now. You could keep pushing him about a case that he obviously didn’t want to talk to you about, or you could switch gears in your brain and have him help you solve your... other problem. Aaron was attractive, and you were getting tired of guys your age. You noticed the distinct lack of a wedding ring on his finger, but there was still a tan to show that it had been there. So either he was recently separated or just trying to cheat on his wife. You wanted to not care whichever it was, but a pang in your heart told you to be considerate. Besides, you did not want to get involved with another cheater.

“Must be hard to be at these events without your wife here to scare off all the lonely female law students,” you mused cautiously. You didn’t want to come on too strong, but the alcohol in your system was slowly clouding your ability to be subtle.

Aaron cleared his throat, obviously taken aback by the sudden shift in conversation. “I’m not married,” he said, too quickly and too defensively. So he’s separated, you thought, and you stepped closer to him.

His eyebrows furrowed as he tried to figure out your endgame. “Well, I would love to discuss your work as a prosecutor more when there are less… distractions around,” you whispered, your words breathy. “Tell me Agent Hotchner, do I make you nervous?” You sounded a lot more confident than you felt.

Aaron just smirked and grabbed your free hand, covering it in both of his, and the action was surprisingly soft, even if it was way too late for him to try acting suave. His eyes, on the other hand, told a whole other story. His pupils were so dilated that his eyes were practically black. “I face the worst people in society on a daily basis. Desperate law students don’t make me nervous. In fact…” He stepped towards you, looking around to make sure nobody else was looking. Aaron leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear with every word. “I think that I make you nervous. And more than nervous, I make you very excited.”

Your breath hitched as he pulled back, a smug smile gracing his lips. You yanked your hand back to preserve what little dignity you had left, but it was too late. “Now, if you would like to discuss my prosecuting career more in depth, then you can set up a formal meeting with me at the BAU,” he continued, obviously proud of himself and the effect he was having on you. He pulled out a business card and upon further instruction, you realized that it wasn’t even his. Jennifer Jareu the name read. “Our media liaison will be able to help you organize that. Now if you don’t mind, I am going to retire for the night.”

Aaron finished the rest of his drink and brushed past you while you were still trying to get your thoughts under control. “Oh, and you’ll make a wonderful lawyer someday, I’m sure of it,” he called over his shoulder, and that snapped you back into action.

You followed, running around him and cutting him off. “And if I don’t want to discuss your prosecuting career?” you asked, batting your eyelashes at him. “What if I was interested in a… less formal meeting?”

That was all the permission he needed. Aaron grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the ballroom, the two of you moving so fast that nobody in the room even had a chance to put two and two together. There was an empty hallway just next to the entrance of the room and Aaron pulled you in that direction, pressing you against the wall and kissing you fiercely the second the two of you were alone.

There was nothing gentle about the kiss, but in a strange role reversal, he let you take the lead. It’s certainly not what you expected from Aaron Hotchner who, until now, had been controlling every aspect of your meeting. You realized then that this was his way of making sure you were okay with what was happening- giving you a chance to back out and change your mind. You just answered by tangling your hands in his hair, pulling so that he was at just the right angle to kiss you.

Aaron dug his fingers into your hips, hard enough to make you gasp out. You were definitely going to have bruises the next day, but you couldn’t be bothered to care. He shoved his leg in between yours and tugged on your lip with his teeth, which made you whimper involuntarily. He smirked against your lips, obviously proud of the noises he was drawing from you. You pulled on his hair harder as a sign of irritation, but that seemed to only make him more amused as he pulled away to laugh into your neck.

“Are we just going to make out against a wall like we’re back in high school, or are you going to actually do something worth my time?” you breathe, fighting to keep your voice even and light. It only halfway worked as he dragged his tongue up your neck to your pulse point. And then he bit down, hard.

It took everything in your power to stay quiet, especially as he softly kissed the newly forming bruise. His attack on your neck was relentless as he pulled your hips and back forth against his thigh. You whimpered as you desperately tried to get any friction from the simple movement. Your skirt was now dangerously close to being pushed so far up your legs that you would be completely exposed.

You pulled away first- you had to or your legs were going to completely give out from under you. You desperately tried to get your breathing under control and, to your annoyance, he looked perfectly composed. The only thing giving him away was his slightly swollen lips.

His fingers trailed up your thigh, getting so close to where you want him. “What would you like me to do then?” he asked easily, his voice almost sounding bored. You were speechless, like your brain had just short circuited. There were a lot of things you wanted him to do, but the words were lost on the tip of your tongue. “If you want something, you have to ask for it.” That was a demand, and he punctuated it by pressing his thigh further into you. You were sure he was going to have a wet spot on his slacks. He took the hand not in between your legs and grabbed your jaw forcefully, his thumb resting on your bottom lip. “Use your words, little girl.”

You realize that the two of you were standing on the edge of a cliff, and you had the power to decide whether or not to jump over. It gave you a strange sense of power. Logically, you knew it was a bad idea. He was too old for you, obviously going through some sort of relationship trauma, and wasn’t somebody you could talk to your friends and family about. But the less rational side wanted him so badly it hurt. You wanted him more than you’ve wanted anything or anyone in a long time.

You noticed your strawberry colored lipstick was smudged ever so slightly on the corner of his mouth, and that’s all it took for you to jump off the side of the cliff. “I want you to drag me into the empty classroom just down the hall and fuck me senseless. I want you to use me,” you moan before taking his thumb into your mouth and sucking.

The look on his face is something you’ll never forget. There was a mix of shock and arousal, but also something primitive; His eyes darkened when you told him to use you, and there was a fluttering in your stomach. You couldn’t tell if it was from excitement or dread. Maybe even both.

He removed his hands from your mouth and legs, only to place his hand on the small of your back. He began walking towards the classroom you had pointed out, much too slow for your liking, but he knew exactly what he was doing. “You’re going to regret asking me to use you,” he practically growls in your ear, each word increasing your arousal. “Are you one of those lonely female law students you warned me about? So desperate and needy for a real man to bend you over a table and fuck you until you can’t walk straight? Ready and willing to whore yourself out for the first man who gives you a second glance?”

Your breath hitched as you stuttered out your answer. “Y-yes, Agent Hotchner,” you whispered as he opened the classroom door and guided you in.

As soon as the door was shut and locked, he was back on your lips again, lifting you so that you were sitting on one of the desks with your legs wrapped around his waist. “Call me Aaron,” he mumbled in between kisses, and you were all too happy to oblige.

You were a moaning mess at this point as his hands pushed your dress up to your waist. His hands and lips were somehow everywhere at once and you were so hot and all you could think about was getting your damn dress off, but Aaron seemed to have other plans.

He ran his fingers up your lace covered slit and he just chuckled into your lips. “You’re so wet for me, already,” he groaned and you let out an embarrassingly loud moan. “And I’ve barely touched you. Do my words really have that much effect on you? Do you like it when I call you a whore?”

He hooked his fingers under the waistband of your panties and quickly pulled them down. You could feel his bulge pressing against you and all you could think about was how badly you wanted it. How badly you wanted him. Your hands moved down his chest to make quick work of his belt, and his pants followed after.

“Please, please Aaron,” you begged, desperately trying to create some friction against him. His fingers tangled in your hair and he pulled your head back so that you were looking at him.

“You’re so pretty when you beg.” His fingers slowly ran up your slit, not enough to give you any pleasure. He was teasing you and enjoying every second of it. “And I wish I could take my time with you. The things I want to do to you…” Two of his fingers entered you and you cried out loudly. “But somebody could walk in on us at any second. I’m sure they can all hear you moaning like a dirty whore, all for me. But you’d like that, wouldn’t you? So desperate for my attention and approval.”

His words turned you on more than you would have liked to admit. “Yes, Aaron yes. Please-” you were cut off by Aaron curling his fingers, hitting that spot that made you want to scream out in pleasure. But all too soon, they were gone.

He inspected his fingers, which were now covered in your juices, before bringing them to your mouth. “Suck,” he ordered, and you eagerly complied, wrapping your lips around his fingers and moaning at the taste of yourself. “I’ll just have to fuck you quickly here, and then you’ll be begging for more next time,” he groaned and finally- finally- entered you.

He didn’t give you time to adjust to him, thrusting roughly into you. He removed his fingers from your mouth and brought his hand to your neck. He didn’t put any pressure, but he wanted you to know that he could and would if you decided to get mouthy with him.

Your hands gripped the edge of the desk you were sitting on, your knuckles turning white. Your eyes started to close in pleasure as his hips slammed into yours, but they shot open as he tightened his grip on your throat. “Look at me. I want to see you when you cum,” he ordered, and you nodded the best you could.

“Yes sir!” you cried out, unsure of what else to say.

Seemingly satisfied with your answer, Aaron released your throat and moved his hand down so that he was stimulating your clit. You could feel the coil in your stomach tighten as your legs started to twitch. Aaron took this as motivation to slam into you even harder, relishing each time you gasped out his name.

His pace was unforgiving, leaving you gasping for air. Keeping your eyes open was a challenge, but you were able to do it with his soft mutters of praise. “Even brats like you can be good girls,” he groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic. “You just need somebody to fuck it into you.”

You were unable to respond coherently, so you just settled on begging even more, although you weren’t sure what you were begging for exactly. Aaron seemed to know, and he sped up his fingers against your clit. You wanted to scream out for him, but your voice wasn’t working. “What did I say before?” he asks roughly. “If you want something, ask for it.”

“Please… please can I cum?” you cried out, feeling yourself getting close to the edge. “Please let me cum around your cock!”

He nodded in approval and you had to muffle yourself in his neck to keep quiet. He fucked you through your orgasm, the overstimulation almost too much, but it wasn’t long before he was moaning your name, and you felt him fill you.

The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, both breathing heavily as the situation started to sink in. You just let a guy almost 15 years older than you that you just met fuck you in an empty classroom, and you really enjoyed it. Aaron, on the other hand, looked like he was going through a full crisis.

He pulled out of you slowly, and you winced at the feeling. He pulled up his pants quickly. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, looking around the empty classroom. “I don’t have anything good to clean you up with.” A box of kleenex caught his eye and he grabbed a few tissues. It was better than nothing.

You chuckled nervously and waved it off. “It’s fine,” you promised, your voice coming out shakier than you expected, but he ignored you. He wiped the mess dripping down your thighs. You were cold. He must have noticed, because he took off his suit jacket and wrapped it around your shoulders.

“Are you okay?” Aaron asked softly, and it was a full 180 from the way he had just been talking to you.

“I’m great,” you admitted honestly. “Seriously, that was… great.”

Aaron smiled at you- the first real smile he had given you all night. “It wasn’t too much?” he confirmed, and you suddenly remembered what he had said to you earlier. ...then you’ll be begging for more next time. Was he planning on a next time? You wouldn’t have minded it.

You shook your head and slowly slid off the table. You took one of the tissues and wiped up the mess that was left on the table. “Not at all. In fact, I could take more. Next time.” Your voice was light and airy. Aaron watched as you picked your underwear off the floor. There was no way you were putting those back on, not when you had no idea when the floor was last cleaned.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” he teased, eyeing you carefully.

“Well I can’t keep it if I only have your media liaison’s number,” you reminded him, your eyebrow raised. Aaron chuckled and pulled out another business card, except this time it was his. You plucked the card out of his hands and inspected it carefully. “I’ll call you sometime. You can do all those other things we didn’t have time to do.” You were on your tiptoes now, whispering in his ear. “You know… my mouth can do a lot more than just ask for things.” As you spoke, you slipped your panties into his back pocket. You just laughed as you heard a soft gasp escape his lips.

You made your way towards the door, your legs wobbling dangerously underneath you. You were sure that you looked like a mess, but you didn’t care. All that mattered to you was Aaron Hotchner’s eyes glued to your ass. “Get home safe,” he told you and you let yourself smile. Maybe it was a bad idea to start sleeping with a recent divorcee, but the sex was great and you both knew where you stood with the other person. No feelings, just fucking out your frustrations and stress.

Oh yeah, coming to this event was definitely a good call on your part.

[romiantic]

this is me, slipping into your asks from your friends blog! idk if you saw the request but i’d love a bokuto fic where his s/o is having a rough natural hair day, i am currently ... struggling lol. thank you angel!!!

𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭

reading: black!fem!reader

genre: fluff

word count: 1.6k

request: this is me, slipping into your asks from your friends blog! idk if you saw the request but i’d love a bokuto fic where his s/o is having a rough natural hair day, i am currently ... struggling lol. thank you angel!!!

a/n: I’m am SOOOO sorry for the wait sis 😭 but I really do hope you enjoy

Another one. For the past two hours, you’ve managed to break three scrunchies and your rat tail comb. You groaned in huge frustration, trying to figure out why your hair isn’t working out for you. “What the fuck?! Work with me, DAMN!” You harshly combed out your hair and SNAP! You brought back down the wide tooth and saw the comb snapped in half. In fury, you threw the comb across the room.

“This thing acting like I won’t shave it off and call it a day.” You complained out loud while pulling on your hair and trying to figure out what to do.

“Babyyy! Y/N!” What a relief! Your handsome, six foot two, volleyball playing boyfriend came into your shared home, happy to be home with his beautiful girlfriend. Typically you would yell back hello if you were busy or come into his large body and give him a tight hug as he tells you how his day went and give you multiple forehead kisses.

But today you didn’t. You haven’t left your vanity and glued yourself to your seat as out loudly cursed your hair. Seeing that you didn’t welcome him home, he looked around the house to see where you were until he met a frustrated you pulling at your hair. Bokuto was actually used to your bad hair days so he knew how to approach you whenever your hair didn’t feel like cooperating.

He put his bag down next to the couch and quietly crept into your shared bedroom. Instead of greeting you with loudness, he wanted to comfort you and distract you from the thing that was stressing you the most. He walked behind you and snaked his arm around your waist, giving you a soft hug as he softly said, “Hello y/n, did you miss me?”

You got scared at his touch but calmed down at the hearing of his soft voice talking to you. You slightly turned to face your boyfriend and smiled at his golden eyes trying to calm you down. You took a breather from all the stress and answered, “Of course Kotaro, why wouldn’t I miss you? You’ve been gone all day.”

“You seemed frustrated when I came and you didn’t say hello.” He curved a slight downward smile, “You didn’t even give me a hello hug, you always give me a hello hug.”

You sighed and kissed his cheek to reassure him, “I’m fine babe, it’s just that my hair is not working with me at all.” Bokuto looked at your hair then back at you, mentally solving how he can fix your hair problem.

DING! Something hit him and grew happy at his idea. He smiled widely and asked you, “Y/N can I do your hair? Please please pleaseee. The way you style your hair is so pretty and I wanna try it myself.” The man kept begging you until you finally agreed, “Okay okay Bokuto, you can do my hair. But fuck it up and you’re sleeping on the couch for a week.”

“Don’t worry y/n, I got this.” Of course your boyfriend had confidence that he knew exactly what he was doing since he saw you do your hair literally almost every day. For date nights, games, work, any occasion, he would just sit on the bed and watch you work your ways on your hair until it becomes a masterpiece. Always leaving the white/black hair man in awe of what you can do with two hands. One of the great gifts of having a black girlfriend if he does say so himself.

You got off your chair and took a seat on the carpeted floor. While Bokuto went to go shower and put on a change of clothes cause he knows you don’t like having his sweat roaming the room. After, he took a seat at your vanity and looked at your hair supplies spreaded around. He thought about what style he should do on you, there’s so many to choose from and you would look good in all of them but which one?

You looked at him and saw a concerned look on him, you asked, “Something wrong Bo?”

“I don’t know what I wanna do, I mean what I can do to make my baby even prettier than she is now?” You lightly laughed at his compliment, and his thinking face that he had on.

Finally, a style came to mind, one that was simple yet he loved seeing you in it. Before starting, he collected all of the supplies that were needed and got to work on your hair. At first it was silence surrounding the two of you until Bokuto excitedly started talking about how practice went.

“Y/N you should’ve seen me at practice today! The way I was hitting those spikes was literal perfection, I barely missed any. Oh, we had this five-on-five game today and I got to be team captain.”

“It brought back old memories didn’t it?” You smiled at the memory of seeing Bokuto in his high school uniform, fulfilling his captain role, putting a smile on his team's faces for scoring, and being one of the greatest aces in Japan of course.

“Yup! Feels like old times when it would be Akaashi setting the ball for me and the great ace, that’s me, comes flying in, spiking it and getting another score. Now it’s Atsumu setting for me and Hinata cheering me on, I think Sakusa cheered for me too, don’t remember.”

“Last time I remember Sakusa cheered was when Hinata actually didn’t fuck up his quick attack with Atsumu.” You two laughed at the memory of Sakusa being somewhat excited at Hinata for not missing the ball or spiking it too late.

The conversation continued on about practice until Bokuto decided that it was your turn to speak. You spoke about it as Bokuto was all ears, listening to you, even though you were mostly cooped up in this house since it was your day off from work.

You stopped talking to take a peek at what your boyfriend was doing until he firmly pushed you back down on the carpet. He commented that you would ruin the process, he needs to focus, and that he wants you to wait until the end.

“But Bo-”

“Nope y/n, you have to wait.”

You furrowed your brows at him, “It’s my hair Kotaro, why can’t I see?”

“Trust the process y/n! Don’t you always do that with your hair?”

You let a ‘hmph’ and crossed your arms, “At least I get to see what I’m doing.”

Bokuto gave a wide smile to your grouchy face, “You’re gonna love it y/n, I promise.”

You peeped Bokuto grabbing rubber bands, giving you some ideas of what he could be up to. “And I’m holding you to that promise.”

To make time fly by, the two of you had random conversations that led into a whole nother topic than before. One minute you’re talking about getting new furniture then the next, you’re talking about the coral reef. At some point, you guys even had an odd conversation about weird habits that people do.

“Anddd done y/n.” Bokuto scooted back the chair and got up from it, giving you room to get up and take a look at your hair. Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped at the work your boyfriend did. You were honestly caught by surprise that your boyfriend could do something like that with your hair. Styling it a large puff with black and white rubber band style going across.

Meanwhile, Bokuto was chewing his lip and getting nervous, wondering whether or not you liked it. He knew how much you loved your hair and he wouldn’t wanna do anything to mess up your beautiful curls/coils. “Do- do you like it y/n?”

You turned around, seeing your face lit up washed away his nerves and giving him a breath of relief. You immediately jumped on him, which caught him by surprise and made him lean back, landing on the bed with you still on him. You responded,”I love it Kotaro! You did such an amazing job and this style is bomb as hell, where did you learn how to do that?”

“After that failed attempt at doing your hair, your great boyfriend, that’s me, went on Youtube to learn how to do different hairstyles with your hair. I really loved this style and I spent hours learning it, but I say it was worth it.”

You smiled at his answer, it made you giddy inside that your boyfriend takes time out of his day to learn how to do your hair. Your hair! One that was definitely different from his natural spiked up hair. This kind of dedication made you fall in love with him even more than before.

You gave him a large smile and kissed him, “It was definitely worth it Bokuto cause I fucking love it. Plus I think it’s cute that you tried to match with the black and white rubber bands.”

“I’m so happy you love it y/n.”

You kissed his cheek and said, “I’m even more happy that I have a boyfriend like you.”

“Besides, what if we have a kid y/n? I can’t leave it to you to do all the work. I wanna have little daddy-daughter dates and do her hair while I’m showing her volleyball videos.”

You laughed at him, “You’re gonna stuff our future daughter’s brain with volleyball and make them say ‘One touch’ instead of ‘mama’. But I think that’s so sweet of you Bokuto.” You hugged your boyfriend and he hugged you back even tighter, “That and I didn’t like seeing my baby frustrated.”

“Next time my hair doesn’t cooperate, I’ll just call you for help.”

“Call me Bokuto, the great hair superhero!” You two laughed at the superhero name and shared the moment of happiness and content surrounding the two of you. Honestly, you couldn’t ask for a better boyfriend besides Kotaro Bokuto himself.

omg I finally finished it, wow I’m proud of myself

I haven’t written in a superrrr long time but hopefully I can get back and write regularly

bye babes, drink your water, stay hydrated, and remember that you are the baddest bitch on the planet 🥰 no matter what ANYONE says

𝐏𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐦 𝟐𝟕:𝟏𝟒 💗

© 𝟤𝟢𝟤𝟣 𝗂𝗓𝗎𝗄𝗎𝗌𝖽𝖾𝗄𝗎. 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗏𝖾𝖽

[shihalyfie]

A meta and analysis on Yagami Taichi

Being the face of Adventure and arguably the rest of the franchise, Taichi has the honor of being an important figure in the realm of shounen anime overall, which has the unfortunate side effect of very often being described with things that don’t actually match him at all -- the way people often talk about him (especially mainstream press) tends to portray him like a stereotypical shounen hero who charges aggressively into everything and is hot-blooded all of the time. That’s not...quite on the mark.

I think “impulsive” is certainly a correct way to describe him, but in a very different way than one might think -- and, in fact, Taichi is much more of a multifaceted character than he’s often pigeonholed as. How? Well, let’s talk about it!

Taichi in Adventure

The main reason it’s probably incorrect to call Taichi “hot-blooded” by nature is that, in actuality, he is far more often too chill than otherwise. It’s not that he aggressively charges into everything without any rhyme or reason! Rather, it’s more like he takes everything very easily and has a “don’t worry about it!” attitude.

In fact, I think our friend the Animation Chronicle explains it better than I can:

If he doesn’t know/understand something, he acts while he tries to figure it out...

So in other words, rather than our conventional version of “being impulsive” meaning beelining to the most aggressive possible action, rather, it’s more like “the first thing that pops into his head” -- even if it’s a fairly easygoing or relatively harmless-seeming solution, he just goes for it because it sounds like it’ll work and he doesn’t see any reason why not.

That said, it’s also made abundantly clear by multiple sources that his ideas do come with some kind of consideration:

From the Animation Chronicle: “He appears to move with reckless abandon, but he actually does take in his surroundings and he takes good care of his juniors in the soccer club.” 

From the Adventure novels: “Taichi treated everyone without discrimination, as equals. That attitude of his didn’t change, even towards Koushiro. If Taichi hadn’t invited him, Koushiro was sure that he would have never gone to summer camp.”

Sora and Koushirou even back this up personally in Adventure episode 16, when Koushirou points out that Taichi had always been kind to his juniors, and Sora recalls an incident when he’d foregone an opportunity to score a goal because he’d known Sora was more likely to pull it off successfully.

So in other words, Taichi is, fundamentally speaking, not someone who does things for personal glory, but does want to work for other people’s sake. It’s just that, in trying to carry that out, he has a tendency to default to the first thing that pops into his head. Or in other words, Taichi’s primary way of thinking is “act first and figure out the details later” -- and this has both good and bad things about it.

Firstly, the fact that Taichi has such an “action-first” philosophy means that he’s capable of acting very practically in situations when others would freeze up. A very good example of this is Adventure episode 21; after angsting for half an episode considering quitting the fighting and enjoying his life at home, the moment he realizes that everyone else will be in danger if he leaves everyone be, he immediately instinctively steps in to help everyone. It’s not necessarily that Taichi doesn’t feel the stress or danger of fighting; it’s just that when he sees the practical impact of people he cares about getting hurt in front of him, all bets are off, because he needs to help people now.

The second thing is that, as Koushirou points out, he’s very kind to his juniors, and people in general -- he doesn’t really pay much mind to things like seniority, and is more concerned about treating everyone in accordance to their practical capabilities. This means that he’s someone who has a certain sense of charisma, especially since he’s appreciative of people’s abilities.

This is best indicated in Adventure episode 28, when two important things about Taichi are brought to the forefront:

Taichi’s natural charisma and ability to appeal to people makes him someone good at “bringing people together” -- indicated by the fact that the group hadn’t taken long to completely fall apart after he’d momentarily departed in Adventure episode 20, but came back together after he’d rallied them. The Adventure kids, coming from rather different social circles and backgrounds, were not originally the type to stay together or be particularly tight with each other by default, and so, during the first half of the series when they still had ways to go in terms of having any kind of meaningful bond with each other, they were unconsciously dependent on the charismatic Taichi to keep them together.

Taichi is a “natural leader” in every sense -- “leader” meaning not only someone who pushes people forward, but also someone who recognizes others’ abilities and is willing to delegate rather than trying to do everything by himself. This was briefly demonstrated in Sora’s Adventure episode 16 flashback when she remembers that Taichi willingly gave up the opportunity for a goal when he understood she could do it better (it’s reflected in his soccer position, too), but also here in Adventure episode 28, he gives the task of solving the card puzzle to Koushirou because he (correctly) determines that Koushirou, not himself, is best equipped to do the job. Also note that the episode makes clear that everyone agrees to it specifically because Taichi appointed him to the position -- much like how “understanding everyone’s abilities and delegating properly” is an important and necessary skill for a leader, everyone trusts Taichi to make that decision, and therefore trusts in Koushirou because he was appointed by said well-informed decision.

So those are the good things about him. What about the drawbacks?

The first is that Taichi is, unfortunately, a little emotionally insensitive. He doesn’t mean badly, of course -- you can’t deny that his penchant for teasing or trolling people makes him quite a fun person to be around -- but he tends to lack a bit of emotional insight and is prone to crossing the line with his remarks. Again, this is a symptom of him being too chill about things at times; he tends to react with “what’s the big deal?!” -- a statement that one should absolutely not say when arguing with someone, and which tends to get Taichi in hot water, especially with Yamato.

While the trope of “the shounen hero and the cool rival often having friction” is quite common in anime like this, Adventure’s play on it is actually quite different from how it would usually be played elsewhere. In most other shounen anime, this kind of relationship would have to do with something like the hot-blooded protagonist wanting to charge in and the cool-headed person wanting to be more “rational” about it, but in Adventure, Taichi and Yamato are pit against each other due to reasons that have to do with emotions. Yamato, contrary to what his character archetype might suggest, is someone who’s openly passionate and emotional, and is also someone who goes out of his way to care about others and their welfare -- so he often gets into fights with Taichi because he perceives Taichi to be insensitive and not putting sufficient thought into the others.

Yamato’s reactions are certainly extreme -- Adventure episodes 9 very clearly depicts him as the one losing control of his emotions and escalating the argument with Taichi to a full-on fight, whereas Taichi wanted him to calm down -- but he’s not fundamentally wrong in that this is an aspect Taichi needs to improve about, because it is true that Taichi tends to take the first suggestion of “what’ll get something done” that pops into his head, but also has a problem of vastly underestimating how dangerous things might be.

Again -- and this is very important to stress -- it’s not that he doesn’t care about others, and it’s not that he’s unaware of the dangers around him or the potential for repercussions! As Sora says in Adventure episode 16, he is conscientious of his surroundings and aware of potential risks. He has always put thought into his actions, and he doesn’t just charge into things with no rhyme or reason. He just has an abysmally poor sense of judgment, because he’s so naturally chill that he thinks “it’ll be fine, don’t worry!” -- and thus starts stubbornly locking down on what he wants to do because he’s so sure it’ll be fine and that everyone (usually Yamato) is overreacting.

If you want a specific example about Taichi’s tendency to misjudge: in Adventure episode 9, Taichi and Yamato get in a fight when Yamato perceives Taichi as too insensitive about Takeru’s potential welfare, which weirds Taichi out because Yamato’s being awfully overprotective. On its face, it might seem hypocritical because we later find out in Adventure episode 48 that Taichi is just as overprotective of his own sister, but it’s important to note that in the relevant episode, Taichi states that he has to go out of his way because Hikari continually fails to vocalize whenever she’s hurt or in pain. This implies that Taichi sees Takeru as someone who’s clearly capable of taking care of himself because he expresses himself better (and thus, Taichi doesn’t understand why Yamato has to go out of his way for him). Indeed, Takeru ends up latching onto Taichi because he sees him as treating him with the independence that Yamato won’t -- but Takeru has his own very deep-seated emotional issues that he just happens to be very good at hiding, and while Taichi is certainly always looking out for Takeru, he never seemed to have become aware of this problem.

This difficulty in judgment leads into a certain pattern of behavior that Taichi exhibits that only comes up in very specific situations, but is so consistently depicted that it’s basically an inherent trait of his: what I call the “Yagami Taichi stress response”.

Taichi is the kind of selfless person who prioritizes others’ welfare over himself, and there are times when it will often fall into almost self-destructive levels. (This is a trait he actually shares with his sister, although the two of them naturally deal with it in very different ways.) His first priority is “helping everyone”, and especially “helping anyone who’s in trouble” (especially when it’s happening right in front of him). Which means that whenever he feels that others are depending on him for something, he ends up often taking too much responsibility for everyone’s welfare, and starts cracking under the pressure.

Because Taichi is the kind of person who prioritizes “action first” and figuring things out as they go along, this means that his reaction to stress is basically becoming a completely unfocused mess. Or, in other words, he lets the thought of but we have to do something!! completely consume his head, methodology be damned, and he starts panicking and doing everything in every which way to get it done, to the point he starts lashing out at others or becoming an emotional wreck because of the stress. The first time we see this is Adventure episode 16, where, being the only one with a working Crest and feeling that he and Agumon have the responsibility of protecting everyone, starts pushing himself and Agumon to carry everyone’s burdens, resulting in everything going wrong and the dark evolution to SkullGreymon at the end of the episode.

Again: It’s important to remember that, even at his “worst”, Taichi’s main priority is helping and protecting others, which means that his way of responding to that stress is basically determining that he’ll take all of the responsibility onto himself. That involves things like forcing himself to “work harder for everyone’s sake”, or becoming dangerously self-sacrificial, or at least allowing himself to become an emotional wreck because as much as he knows better, his one strongest thought is always we have to do something!!

Taichi exhibits more of this behavior in Adventure episodes 48 and 49, to the point he gets unusually aggressive with Koushirou (which is also explicitly pointed out as him not acting like his usual self) once he starts panicking about Hikari’s welfare. Again, note that all of this stems from we have to do something!! -- he basically starts panicking because despite Koushirou clearly doing the best he can, once things start going south, it’s just not enough.

So, speaking of things going south: because Taichi often misjudges situations, whenever things go wrong, he takes it badly. This is someone whose first course of action is to “act first and work it out as we go along,” but the number one thing he can’t stand is seeing other people get hurt, and so when other people do get hurt because of the consequences, Taichi shuts down -- for instance, when he learns that his ploy to attempt to get Greymon to evolve ended up hurting Koromon and everyone around him in Adventure episodes 16-17, and when his taking the Digital World too lightly (taking Koushirou’s explanation of it being “like a game world” at too much face value) ends up getting Sora in trouble and his own life in danger.

Which leads to a certain degree of irony: Taichi’s behavior isn’t normally out of solely recklessness -- mainly really poor judgment and a tendency to underestimate things -- but when he does slip up and start having to deal with consequences, he does become reckless. But because this recklessness is out of a desire to “not let anyone else get hurt”, it results in him being reckless specifically with his own welfare --  he’s the kind of person who “takes too much responsibility onto himself”, and his way of responding to the issues of “someone might get hurt” and “but we have to do something!!” means that he, by default, responds to everything with “okay, then I’ll be the one who gets hurt!” Or in other words, his solution to preventing other casualties while still doing something to help others involves becoming dangerously self-sacrificial. Because in the end, Taichi is the kind of person who hates seeing people being in trouble or hurt in front of him, and his instinct is to always protect people, no matter what.

But, again: Taichi’s way of “action first” is not a fundamentally bad thing -- remember, Adventure episode 21 established very well that this trait of his is very good for bringing him out of his biggest bouts of hesitation, because he has a very practical understanding of the need to fight in order to prevent more casualties. This is especially because the final arc of Adventure deals heavily with the concept of “collateral damage”, or the question of how to handle fighting to save people, when people are inevitably hurt (or, in this case, dying) in the process.

Yamato accuses Taichi in Adventure episode 43 of not being conscientious enough about the friends they’ve lost in the process, but once Yamato succumbs to his resentment and personal beefs and starts selfishly picking a fight with Taichi in Adventure episode 44-45, Taichi indicates that he is keeping his fallen friends in mind -- it’s just that, to him, not continuing the fight is an insult to everything they’d died for (especially because, indeed, more people will get hurt if they don’t do something). 

And, ultimately, in Adventure episode 50, Taichi does conclude that Yamato, Jou, and Mimi are right about one thing: while he’s always been right about them needing to do something, they do at least need to be careful about how they go about it so that they don’t incur more sacrifices along the way. Fortunately, Taichi is a soccer captain and perfectly capable of quickly coming up with a suitable plan on the fly (he even cites it in this episode, and in fact had already demonstrated an ability to come up with tactics when necessary back in Adventure episode 20) -- it’s not that he’s never been able to do flexible thinking, it’s just that his natural tendency to be “too chill’ about things and overestimate the efficacy of the first thing that popped into his head was something he needed to learn to think through a little harder.

And so, the final episodes of Adventure indicate him finally starting to tap into his capacity for that -- thus truly becoming the definition of the Adventure group’s “leader”.

Taichi after Adventure

We learn in Our War Game! that Taichi still has a bit of a way to go in terms of the “emotional sensitivity” part, most notably when Taichi starts getting defensive when he accidentally disrupts the computer connection, and Koushirou (most likely correctly) pinpoints this insensitivity as the likely reason he and Sora got into a nasty fight prior to the events of the movie. In fact, while Taichi already clearly had some shades of this in Adventure, when his “teasing” of others or stepping over their boundaries could sometimes go a little too far, it’s especially indicated here that Taichi is very, very bad at dispute resolution, because he keeps trying to deflect blame for his own actions and indirectly accuses Sora of being the irrational one in regards to their argument. (Again, for anyone entangled in a dispute with a friend: “dismissing the other person’s feelings” and going for the ad hominem, instead of at the very least acknowledging them in the process of making your point, is the number one worst way to handle this.)

Of course, Taichi wouldn’t have gotten this far if he didn’t have the natural charisma to compensate -- again, he’s fundamentally someone who cares about other people and attends to them. But, unfortunately, he’s still bad at knowing how to deal with other people’s emotions and learning to deal with them with proper empathy...

...So, in fact, it’s striking that the Taichi we initially meet in 02 is someone who, most of the time, seems to come off as very mature and put-together. The fact that he so willingly turned over his goggles to Daisuke at the beginning of the episode is a really huge deal, frankly -- even if you don’t subscribe to the theory that there’s any major sentimental backstory to it a la V-Tamer, that’s still an item he’s kept on him since he was a tiny child and clearly must have a huge amount of attachment to, yet he immediately handed it over to Daisuke the moment he felt Daisuke was worthy of it.

It’s actually quite a bit of a swerve for those of us used to the more “playful” Taichi who sometimes took things way too lightly, but it’s also important to realize that this is the Taichi that Daisuke and his friends see. This is especially in light of the fact that Daisuke starts off the series with a very severe inability to be assertive, so Taichi, who’s always been naturally assertive from the get-go (almost too much sometimes), is everything he is not, and therefore admires.

Taichi is still Taichi, which means that he’s still subject to the Yagami Taichi stress response, and he gets very close to blowing up angrily at the others when they show up late. But unlike how he had a whole train of being rather out of control when emotionally compromised in Adventure episodes 48-49, he gets himself together fairly quickly and admits that he also didn’t want to force everyone to come if they didn’t want to (to the point where he had even thought about going alone with Hikari in the worst-case scenario -- again, note the tendency for self-sacrifice and putting responsibility on himself).

We also see him about to lapse into it again at the end of the episode, when he freezes up because he’s not sure about what to do in regards to the potential of hurting Agumon in the process of getting him back -- but Yamato manages to get him back on his feet, rather literally, and with a punch to the face.

This punch tends to be really often misinterpreted as if violence is just a fact of life when it comes to Taichi and Yamato, but it is very, very important to understand the context behind this scene and how it differs from the two’s relationship in Adventure. Whenever the two fought back in Adventure, it would be a very vicious argument with the two genuinely angry at each other, and with Yamato accusing Taichi of being insensitive and thus becoming hostile and resentful towards him. In this scene, however, Yamato has become conscientious of Taichi’s own feelings and reasons for hesitating. This is evidenced by the fact he only does a single punch and holds out his hand to Taichi right after -- said punch was strictly meant as one meant to snap him back to reality, and Yamato holds out that hand knowing that Taichi will not take it as anger or resentment, but rather “I did this because you needed something to get you back into focus, I know you also know this and won’t take it as an insult, and I understand your feelings and want to help you.”

It’s important in establishing the level of deep trust Taichi and Yamato have where they understand each other’s positions now without fighting over it -- the two of them even point out in the next episode that the reason they can get away with this is because of how much worse they used to go through before, but now, the two of them treat each other with mutual sympathy, understanding, and support, and devoid of condescension whatsoever. And because of that, Taichi is able to “snap out” of his hesitation much more quickly than he would three years prior, because now he has Yamato’s emotional support, and Yamato even frames the situation in a way the “we have to do something!!” Taichi would understand: if they don’t do something, Agumon will continue to be the Kaiser’s slave destroying everything that he himself would never want to see destroyed, and even if they end up accidentally losing him in the process, it would arguably be a bigger mercy to him than it would to let him continue in this state. It’s all very practical reasoning that works best with Taichi’s way of thinking, and because of that, they’re able to push forward into the events of the next episode.

But just because he’s become more mature doesn’t mean he’s lost his characteristic charisma or ability to be playful or a tease -- after all, Taichi has always had a penchant for a bit of a smug personality, sometimes even bordering on the petulant. This especially comes out when he’s with Agumon, but, really, Taichi is a person who really likes fun.

On another interesting note, however, Taichi sends Sora off in 02 episode 38 when he’s very heavily implied to have caught on that Sora is about to confess to Yamato, and pushes her on without giving her grief for it. Regardless of whether you subscribe to the theory that Taichi has his own unresolved feelings in the situation, the important part is that he understood that this was a grave enough situation for Sora that this did not merit teasing her or insensitively poking into her feelings on it -- in other words, it’s a huge contrast to Adventure episode 26 when he was clearly at a loss on how to deal with her when she was emotionally compromised, and Agumon and Gabumon commented that he wasn’t as mature as Yamato in dealing with this.

But now, Taichi is much more capable of showing actual empathy for others and understanding when it’s the time to hold back on the teasing or potential insensitivity, and for that, Agumon compliments him on the same maturity he’d failed to express three years prior.

By the time we get to Kizuna, the fact that Taichi is one of the lead protagonists is for obvious meta reasons (he’s the protagonist of Adventure, after all), but it also makes sense that a movie centered around the millennial existential crisis -- and, specifically, the issue of career uncertainty -- would have him as a major player in it. Remembering that Taichi is fundamentally the kind of person who operates as “act first, deal with it later,” it makes perfect sense that the terrifying pressure of dealing with something as vague and uncertain as career pressure would be something that Taichi would continually put off. Again, Taichi is a very practical-minded person who usually works best with things that are clearly happening in front of him, so “wide-ranging” things are things he plays badly with.

Despite Taichi being very clearly depicted as “out of it” for this movie, at the very least, certain fundamental personality traits of his haven’t gone away -- for one, he’s still one of the most expressive characters in the movie (to the point many a fan has commented on his jackpot of facial expressions) in terms of petulance, sometimes getting a little defensive, and driving poor Koushirou a little nuts with his tendency to be reckless with electronics. He also gets a bit cocky during the battle with Eosmon, which, again, tracks with his tendency to do that every so often (and to be fair to him, everyone was guilty of severely underestimating Eosmon at the time, so it’s not like this was a major miscalculation on Taichi’s part).

Moreover, much like in 02, Taichi and Yamato are understanding of each other’s feelings to the extent that Yamato is the first person Taichi calls to dump his feelings about his existential crisis over. Even though they’re still prone to some mild bickering at the beginning of the movie, they immediately go back on high-fiving terms right after, so it’s a very far cry from the time back in Adventure when Yamato would look down on Taichi for being insensitive.

But here, we have this one line that basically represents the source of all of the problems Taichi ends up going through in this movie, including the reason for his loss of Agumon: Taichi is trying to “force” himself to become an independent person, and in the process is pushing Agumon away, and, on a more metaphorical level, his own self.

Taichi moved out of his parents’ house under the pretense of not burdening his family, but Hikari’s comment about their mother wanting him to drop by indicates that it’s not likely they necessarily wanted him to move out -- and despite that, Taichi is miserable in his daily routine of walking back and forth from school and working at a part-time job and eating convenience store food. He’s clearly lonely, yet he won’t allow Agumon into his room (it’s stated that his visit midway into the movie is his first time here). He keeps his old goggles and Digivice, yet he shuts it in a drawer and only opens the drawer to stare at it from time to time, and when Agumon finally does visit and finds his AVs, Taichi freaks out and pins it as an “adult thing” before he finds himself in the awkward situation of basically gatekeeping his own partner with a societal standard he doesn’t even understand.

I should point out that the AVs are not strictly porn, if you want to be really technical about it; it’s “gravure” videos, involving a cosplayer dressing up in sexy/high-exposure outfits and striking suggestive poses, but it’s not actually explicit porn. Moreover, a toned-down version of this scene exists in the Shueisha Mirai version of the novel, where the issue is not about AVs but rather the fact that Taichi only has alcohol in his fridge -- absolutely nothing non-alcoholic, despite how impractical this is -- because “[he’s] an adult, after all.” So the point of this scene is that Taichi’s being performative, or in other words trying to do Adult Things because That’s What Adults Do. And since a Digimon partner is representative of the inner self, and especially established in 02 to have relevance to one’s “less dignified and more childish dreams”, Taichi looking down on Agumon, i.e. looking down on himself, becomes the reason why he ends up losing him at the end of this movie.

As things get worse for Taichi and the crisis escalates, we actually get another glimpse of the Yagami Taichi stress response -- Yamato confronts him on whether he’s okay with going in to save all of the Eosmon victims despite knowing what’ll happen to their partners. Taichi, frantically (Hanae Natsuki’s voice acting really sells it here), has an emotional outburst and professes that, no, of course he’s not, but, again: they have to do something!! Because in the end, Taichi is a selfless person who understands that bad things are happening to people now, and the important thing is saving them now and dealing with the consequences once that’s done with, and even Yamato admits that, as much as he hates it, this is the correct answer.

Taichi does, unfortunately, lose Agumon at the end of the movie, but there are multiple indications he’s already on his way to getting him back, given that Taichi’s starting to address all of the problems he was neck deep in at the start of the movie. In the middle of the movie, after having shut his goggles in the drawer all of this time and only pulling it out whenever he was depressed, he decides to embrace the courage they initially symbolized and puts them back on his neck, and when we reach the climax of the movie, he uses Hikari’s old whistle to wake everyone up. This needs to be distinguished from all of the “nostalgia” everyone else had been drowning themselves in by looping themselves eternally in old memories from a desire to never move on from them; symbolically speaking, Taichi’s blowing of the whistle represents acknowledging the important things in your past, and making productive use of them to move onto the future, rather than the unhealthy reactions of either drowning eternally in nostalgia, or performatively shutting everything out about your past in a bid to reach some arbitrary standard of adulthood.

Hence, Taichi’s thesis -- the one he had failed to write at the beginning of the movie -- is only filled out once Taichi embraces that past version of himself, because his thesis summary is about reflection on his past experiences, and making use of those to think about how to apply them to the future.

This is, obviously, intended as a lead-up to the 02 epilogue in which Taichi becomes an ambassador -- or in other words, someone who indeed specializes in “bringing humans and Digimon together” and offering proposals on how they can coexist in the future. Agumon, of course, is an important part of this job (look at his suit and bowtie!), instead of Taichi shutting him out and treating him like someone who doesn’t belong in his adult life.

Of the careers depicted in the epilogue, Taichi’s is the most “furthest-reaching”, since, as a diplomat, he has influence over a pretty huge range of things, which fits with Taichi’s tendency to shoot for some pretty high things -- and, also, conceptually, it works well with what we’ve always known since Adventure to be Taichi’s true specialties as a “leader”: having the charisma and understanding to bring people from different places together, and to lead them all forward.

[moldisgoodforyou]

i deserve better

wordcount: 3.5k

_____

The rest of the drive was quiet as Rafe turned the radio up and tried to ignore her leg jittering anxiously and how she kept switching her ring from finger to finger, a constant nervous habit of hers. When he pulled into the driveway at her house, he reached out again and stilled her leg. “Sophie.”

“You didn’t say a thing.” She murmured to herself, not looking at him.

“What do you mean?” He frowned and reached out to take her hand.

Sophie pulled back a little, but turned to look at him. “Nothing, it’s fine. I’m glad it went well with your dad.”

“But…”

She leaned forward and gave him a short kiss and a smile to match, shaking her head. “You said it yourself, we have to go pack. Come on.” She got out of the car and didn’t give him a second glance backward as she strode into the house.

Rafe sat there and watched, dumbfounded and unsure of what he’d done.

“Sophie!” He called after her, scrambling out of the car once he came to his senses. “Sophie, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, Rafe, clearly it went well for you!” She called back, not looking over her shoulder as she stormed through the house.

He sighed, quickening his pace so he caught up to her just as she strode through her room and caught the door just before she slammed it. “Baby, if you want to talk about something let’s just talk about it -”

She whirled around and he was surprised to see a few tears welling up in her eyes. “Leave me alone.”

“Is this about fall break? The Bahamas house? I was going to ask you about it soon, I swear -”

“Seriously, Rafe?” She shook her head, shocked at how oblivious he could be sometimes. “No. It’s not about the fucking Bahamas, though it would have been nice to have a heads up for whatever that is. Can you leave me alone for a minute?”

He frowned and stepped closer inside the room, shutting the door gently behind him. “Clearly you’re upset, Sophie, so let’s just talk about it. Please?”

“Upset doesn’t even begin to describe it.” She told him in a low tone, eyes blazing as she stared him down.

Her dad knocked on the door a moment after, sounding cautious. “Sophie? Rafe? Something up?”

Sophie closed her eyes and took a deep breath, swiping the back of her hands over her eyes quickly before moving past Rafe and opening the door. “We’re fine, Dad.”

He wasn’t fooled, of course, and looked her over with concern. “How did your lunch go?”

“I don’t know, Rafe, want to tell him how the lunch went?” She asked in a challenging, sarcastic tone as she turned to Rafe with arms crossed.

Rafe seemed to shrink under her gaze, still lost. “I thought it went okay?”

“Really? Because you said it wasn’t bad at all. I’m glad you didn’t see a single thing wrong with the entire conversation -”

“Sophie.” Her dad interrupted sternly, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Can I talk to Rafe for a minute?”

“Sure. But this is my room.” She stood her ground, shrugging him off as she ignored Rafe right beside her.

Jeff nodded calmly and glanced at her messy suitcase on the floor. “Alright. You need to pack, I’ll have to take you two to the airport in a few hours. Rafe, can I meet you in the guest room?”

“Yes sir.” He nodded quickly, carefully grazing Sophie’s arm as he stepped past the two of them and made his way down the hall.

Once he was gone, Sophie’s bold facade crumbled as she let a few hot tears spill down her cheeks and her voice cracked as she spoke. “Dad, I -”

“Did he hurt you?” Mr. Flint asked firmly, looking her over again before drawing her into a hug.

“No! No, he would never.” She replied quickly, shaking her head. “He just - god. His stepmom, Rose. She was fucking awful.”

“Language, Soph.” He chastised with a small smile but held her a little tighter. “What did she say?”

“I don’t even want to repeat it, Dad. It was like she was looking down on me.” She told him with a small frown, knowing her dad worked incredibly hard for their family and it was a sense of pride for him. “It was like -” She took a deep breath to center herself before going on a rant. “Rafe didn’t even notice, he was too focused on how nice his dad was being for once.”

“I’m sure he didn’t mean it, honey. I’ll go talk to him -”

“Be easy on him.” Sophie immediately interrupted, rubbing away more tears. “He’s sensitive. He’ll hate that I told you that but you have to be careful with him.”

“Okay. We’re just going to talk.” He nodded. “Breathe, Sophie girl. You know yelling won’t solve a thing.” She nodded solemnly and bit her wobbly lip hard so she wouldn’t start crying again, her hands balled into fists, and her dad gave her a small smile. “You look just like you did when you were seven and Carter stole your bike all the time.”

“It’s more important than that.” She protested with a spark in her eyes, and her dad raised his hands in defense before she could get too upset. “Alright. Clean up this mess, Soph, let me go talk to him.”

“Be nice.”

“I will, I will.” He left the room and strode down the hall to the guest room, where Rafe had been anxiously pacing for the last ten minutes, and knocked firmly. “Rafe?”

Rafe opened the door right away, guilt written all over her face. “Is she okay? I can go talk to her, if she needs to yell at me or something that’s fine, I wasn’t -”

“Take a breath, Rafe.” Her dad had to resist a smile at how alike the two were, immediately going to defend each other even in an argument. He stepped in the guest room and closed the door behind him, opting to lean up against the wall with his hands in his pockets. “Take a seat.”

Rafe did immediately. “I think I know why she’s so upset.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I was thinking about it. My, uh - my dad’s wife, Rose, she was really rude, she’s kind of a bi - um. Sorry.” He cut himself off before he could curse, apologizing quickly. “She looks down on people. Sophie especially. And I messed up, I didn’t stand up for her.”

“Rose, she’s your stepmom?”

“No.” Rafe scowled, crossing his arms. “Well, yes, but only by definition of the law.”

“Hm.” Jeff nodded. “Why?”

“I was nervous about how my dad was going to be…” He trailed off, glancing up at him. “She’s told you what he’s like, right?”

“Yes, she has. I’m sorry about that.” Jeff kept his face impassive, although he felt like he knew more about how Ward treated Rafe than Rafe realized - Rafe had used the golf lessons as a pseudo-therapy session half the time, while Jeff just gave a listening ear.

“It’s fine. I’m used to it. He was just so...so different. Nice, for once. I got caught up in things.” Rafe rubbed the back of his neck, standing. “I need to go and apologize.”

“Alright. Sophie, she’s…”

“She’s mad, I know. I deserve it.” He nodded with a frown.

Jeff laughed, shaking his head. “Yes, but that’s not what I was going to say. She takes a lot of pride in herself, what she’s done. Where she’s gotten herself to. Someone insulting that...that’s insulting her whole character.”

“I know. I know better.” Rafe combed his hand through his hair, sighing. “Thanks for not yelling at me.”

“I wasn’t going to - Rafe, I wouldn’t yell at you unless you did something to warrant it. You’re a good kid, I’m proud of you for accepting your mistake.”

He gave her dad a sheepish grin, tugging at the ends of his hair. “Thank you, Mr. Flint. I’m not sure you know how much that means to me.”

Jeff stepped forward and pulled him into a short hug, clapping his back once. “Go talk to her.”

“Thank you, sir. I really appreciate this. Your support.” He held onto the hug a moment longer than necessary, then pulled away with red cheeks.

“Of course. Go.” Her dad opened the door and gave him a little push forward - Rafe nodded and hesitated for only a second longer before walking down to Sophie’s room.

He paused before knocking on Sophie’s door, although she knew his footsteps by heart now. “Soph? Can I come in?”

She took a breath and stood, smoothing her palms over her shorts before she opened the door, expressionless. “Have you packed?”

“We’re not leaving for seven more hours. I want to talk. And I need to apologize.” He stepped inside without an invitation and shut the door behind him, regarding her carefully.

She just raised her eyebrows with arms crossed. “Okay. Go ahead.”

He sighed softly and nodded. “Look, I’m sorry that Rose was rude to you. I know money stresses you out, I get it -”

Sophie set her jaw and she frowned, stepping closer, but kept her body language completely closed off to him. “No. Rafe. Listen to me. You don’t get it, and I don’t think you’ll ever fully get it. That’s fine. But those shitty comments Rose made were way too much, and you didn’t say a damn thing. I can’t stand up for myself because I don’t want your dad to hate me even more than he already does -”

“Sophie, I swear he doesn’t hate you -”

“Listen.” She pointed her finger in his face, making him shut up right away. “If you want me to support you at family things like that, you have to stand up for me. She made me feel like shit, Rafe, implying I’m only with you for your money. Do you know how many fucking times I’ve heard that?”

He frowned, shrinking away from her. “She said that?”

“Yes, that’s - fuck, that’s exactly the problem, Rafe!” She threw up her hands in exasperation, pacing away from him. “Every single thing she said to me was a backhanded insult, did you seriously not hear?”

Rafe stepped back to take a seat on the edge of her bed, starting to feel sick from the guilt. “I heard what she said about the lighting...what else did I miss?”

“She said that, she was rude to you about getting a different job after graduation. She said my major was cute - fucking cute - and implied that I wouldn’t be making any money so it was a good thing I was with you. She said I wasn’t used to any luxury like your Bahamas house so I’d enjoy it.” Tears were streaming down her face now but she kept her voice, steady, controlled. “She doesn’t know me, Rafe, and she’s saying all this shit about my family and our money situation and I’m supposed to just sit there and take it?”

“Sophie.” He whispered, reaching out for her and was relieved when she didn’t yank her hand away.

“You can’t just sit there when they’re saying that, Rafe. I deserve better than that.” Her voice cracked at the end of the sentence and she nearly stomped her foot like a child, not used to breaking down in front of someone.

“You do.” He pulled her down to his lap and into a tight hug, wrapping his arms securely around her, and rubbed her back as she cried, melting into him. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, baby.” He murmured, pressing kisses into her hair.

She took shallow breaths, trying to calm herself down as she nodded. “Can I tell you something?”

“Yeah. Of course.” He kept rubbing her back and kept his eyes trained on hers, unwavering.

“When you were talking about the golf lessons, in Rome, it reminded me. When your dad canceled those lessons, my dad lost out on you as a client but a lot of your friends too. He had to cancel a flight for my parents to come visit for parents weekend because we needed the money.” She bit her lip hard again. “I don’t expect you to know all that, but I need you to realize how different of a position we’re in.”

“Fuck.” He breathed out, frowning, as a wave of guilt washed over him. He never realized how much his family’s situation affected hers. “I’m so sorry, Sophie, I was a total dick earlier.” He swiped his thumb over her lip. “You’re bleeding, baby, stop. You’re hurting yourself.”

She released her lip from between her teeth and rubbed her eyes hard, making them even more red. “I just need you to understand. When your family says something, or Brooklyn, or whoever, either I say something or you do. And we both know it’s taken way more seriously when it’s you saying something.”

“Okay. You’re right. I’ll - I’ll call my dad, tonight.”

She paused as she combed her fingers through his hair. “You’d do that? Really?”

“Yes, Soph, if it’s important to you I’ll absolutely do that.” He closed his eyes for a moment, pressing his head into her touch. “I love you. I need to show it.”

“You do show it. I know you love me.” She protested quietly, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I just - this is different.”

“I know.” He nodded. “I know. I’m sorry, Sophie, I’ll do better.”

“Thank you.” She replied, resting her head on his shoulder and pressed another kiss to his neck. “I really want to kiss you more.” She mumbled, loosely looping her arm around his neck.

Rafe laughed quietly despite himself. “Yeah. I know. Will you stay at my place tonight?”

“Our friends are gonna think we have attachment issues.” She murmured, cuddling closer into his lap.

“I do though. I can’t sleep right without you.” He confessed, leaning back into the pillows with her so she was lying on top of him, a comforting weight.

“You need to fix that. What if I’m away again?”

“What do you mean? I don’t want you to leave me again.” He frowned, playing with the ends of her hair.

She was a little too slow on her reply for his liking. “...I meant for a weekend.”

“Hm. I’ll get James to cuddle with me.” He didn’t press her hesitancy, just grinned when she rolled her eyes and shoved at his chest.

“Idiot.”

“I know.” He had guilt written all over his face as he secured his arms around her. “I know.”

“Your dad kind of was nice to you tonight. Wasn’t he.” She asked, posing it as more of a careful statement than a question.

“Yeah, he’s nice when he’s around other people.” Rafe frowned, thoughtful. “Makes it easy to forget when he’s not.”

Sophie pressed kisses across his cheeks, palms on either side of his face. “I love you. I’m sorry your dad is like this, you deserve better, Rafe.”

“It’s okay. It is how it is.” He shrugged, nudging her to the side and sitting up a little.

“It’s not okay. He shouldn’t treat you like this, it’s manipulative.” She insisted, sitting up too. “I hope you know that my family is yours, baby. When we’re together -”

He frowned, reaching for her. “We are together -”

“I mean permanently.” She cut him off with an intense gaze. “My family will welcome you with open arms, Rafe, I mean it. They already do.”

He blushed, giving her a small shy smile. “When you’re mine for real?”

“I’m already yours. You know that.” She instinctively twisted the Cartier ring that never left her finger nowadays and he took her hands, intertwining their fingers and kissed her knuckles before speaking again.

“When do you want to get married?”

She narrowed her eyes at him, unsure of where exactly the conversation was going. “I need a job first.”

“Sophie. You’ve never thought about it?”

“I didn’t say that.” She replied, worrying her lip between her teeth until he reached up and made her let go. “Have you thought about it?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, sure. “After graduation, of course.”

“And then some more.” She added, regarding him carefully.

“Mm.” A slow grin spread across his face. “Sophie Cameron. I like the sound of that.”

“Yeah? How about Rafe Flint-Cameron?” She challenged, getting in his face and shoving his shoulder lightly.

He just laughed, leaning in to kiss her once. “Don’t start something in your childhood bedroom. Please?”

“Please?” She mimicked, grinning. “So whiny.”

“Okay. Nope.” He rolled off the bed abruptly, going for the door. “You can’t talk like that.”

“No, Rafe, wait.” She shook her head, sitting up fully. “You don’t have to call your dad.”

“But I…”

“I mean it. It’s okay. Just, if he says something again, call him out. But I’m not gonna make you go out of your way.”

He paused, scanning her face for any expression that betrayed her otherwise. “You’re sure. Because I will, I mean it.”

“I’m sure.” She nodded firmly, then got up to cross the room and give him a sweet kiss. “C’mon, let’s go eat. Dinner.”

“We’re okay?” He cocked his head, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

“Yeah. We’re okay.”

_____

When they went downstairs, hand-in-hand, Sophie’s dad caught her eye first. She gave him a small smile and he nodded, satisfied. Rafe made a point to pull Sophie’s chair out for her - she gave him a weird look at the formality, but her eyes crinkled in the corners anyways.

Dinner was filled with small talk, uneventful, until Sophie’s mom changed the topic as she brought out dessert. “Sophie, Rafe, I’d like to talk with you two after dinner.”

Sophie paused with her fork midway to her mouth, wary. “About what?”

“I’d just like to talk, don’t get up in arms.” Her mom shot back just as quick as Sophie had spoken up.

Rafe glanced back and forth between the two of them, unsure, and nudged her knee under the table with his. She didn’t back down, raising her eyebrows at her mom. “If we’re just talking then I’d like to know what we’re talking about.”

“Fine. Rafe, you know sex before marriage is a sin, yes?” Her mom asked point-blank.

Sophie looked absolutely mortified, like she wanted a pit to open up below her and Rafe and swallow them both. “Mother.”

“I asked him a question.”

“I - I’m going to go clean up, Alice.” Her dad excused himself quickly, sending Sophie an apologetic glance before he left the room.

“Uh - I - um, I wasn’t exactly raised in the church, ma’am, I’m not sure I believe in that.” He offered politely, and Sophie resisted cursing under her breath and settled on squeezing the life out of his hand instead. Wrong fucking answer.

“Sophie, you’ve told me -” Her mom started and Sophie shook her head quickly. “We’re not. I really don’t think this is necessary to talk about, mom, you’ve gone over this with me a bunch of times -”

Her mom cut her off abruptly with a pointed look. “I think it is necessary. Rafe, in our church, we talk about temptation often, do you know what that means in a religious context?”

“Like...if you want a cookie before dinner but don’t want to ruin your appetite?” He tried, pretty sure his cheeks were flaming red.

“Yes, exactly. It’s a similar thing, the overall experience is much more enjoyable once you know you’re with your committed partner for life.” Her mom told them with a nod, dropping the smile once she fixed her eyes on Sophie. “I have a few pamphlets I’ll send with you two from our church, so you can do more of your own research into it.”

“Right. Thank you, ma’am.” He gave her a quick nod and ignored Sophie’s cringe besides him.

“Of course, dear. I understand the temptation is hard, but sins are forgiven if you’re baptised, you know. You are baptised, aren’t you?”

“Uh...I’m not sure. You’d have to ask my mother.”

“And your mother is…?”

“We don’t need to talk about that, Mom.” Sophie stood, unable to take it any longer. “That was totally helpful, definitely not anti-feminist at all. Rafe, c’mon, I heard my dad call for your help by the grill.”

Rafe stayed firmly planted in his seat, a little afraid to move. “I don’t think I heard anything.”

“You’re free to go help, Rafe.” Her mom gave him a smile and that was the permission he needed, standing quickly and letting Sophie drag him into the kitchen. The two just glanced at each other once before bursting into giggles, Rafe breaking first and immediately shushing her with a grin.

He clapped his hand over her mouth, laughing quietly. “She thinks you’re a virgin?”

She tugged his hand away. “No! She found out I wasn’t after sophomore year. Oh my god, she dragged me to church for a month before I got a job that had shifts on Sundays. She sat me down before college and told me she loved me no matter what but I had to be careful about those college boys.” She grinned, wiggling her eyebrows at him.

“Do you think I did okay?”

“No. You did terribly.” She rolled her eyes. “Where did you expect that conversation to go, talking about your mom?”

“I...I don’t know.” He rubbed the back of his neck, leaning up against the counter. “Thought I could redirect the topic, maybe?”

“That bad?” Her dad strolled back in with the extra food from the grill on a plate, glancing between the two of them.

“Yeah, thanks for the backup, Dad. Really appreciate it.” Sophie narrowed her eyes at him and Jeff chuckled.

“You know I don’t do that church stuff.”

“Neither do we.” She scowled. “You can still drive us to the ferry, right?”

Her dad nodded, drawing her into a short hug. “Sorry, Soph, you know I can’t argue with your mom. I can, you two ready?”

“Sounds familiar.” Rafe muttered under his breath, giving Sophie a sheepish grin when she gasped and shoved at his shoulder. Jeff just laughed, shaking his head.

taglist: @whoeveniskendall @kkmaybank @karsinner @outerbanksbro @outerbankspreferences @randomficsandshit @jailcalledlife @tovvaa @moniamaybank @illbesafeforyou @dontjinx-it @freddymaybank @jjmaybankzz @g4bster @oopsiedoopsie23 @babygal-babygal @thecuthoney @babeyglora

[defectiveconantoy]

Good Luck!

Fandom: Detective Conan

Pairing: ShinRan

Rating: K+

Prompt: Long Distance

Genres: Slice-of-life, Friendship, not enough Romance, a pinch of Angst

Word Count: 1,261

A/N: I once cried while drafting this. 😭 You’ll see why. I also had this one planned before @shinranweek was announced. The event was a convenient excuse to finally write it. 😏

Good Luck!

It’s dinnertime in the Mouri household. Ran, Kogoro, and Conan gather around the table to eat after a brief afternoon case.

On the table lies the main dish alongside rice and side dishes. Ran took about an hour to prepare everything. She seems awfully proud of her meal. Who can blame her when the food looks great?

“We’re having Buri no Teriyaki tonight,” Ran announces in a singsong voice. Everyone eats excitedly.

“Ahh! Really good! This hits the spot,” says Kogoro.

Conan chirps, “Thank you, Ran-neechan!”

“You’re welcome,” Ran replies with a cute grin.

She continues, “It’s chilly outside, so I figured we’d have some fish. And you know what they say about fish and how it’s good for your brain. Haha! Anyway, how was school today, Conan-kun?”

“Not bad. We learned how to count money today, which isn’t hard. I already learned about it on a coin collector’s book.”

Ran replies, “How nice! I’m glad the lesson comes easy to you. Wish I was on the same boat. I have an English exam in two days. I’ve studied for weeks but get scared of blanking out.” She cups her face with her hands in slight embarrassment. “But you know me. I’ll be okay,” she grins.

Conan helps Ran pile up the plates and clean up the table as he talks. After the dishwashing chores, he settles in the living room to watch television. Meanwhile, Ran quietly withdraws to her bedroom. “Hmm, must be the studying,” he thinks to himself.

An hour and a half passes. After leaving the living room, Conan tiptoes into the hallway beside her bedroom door. She should be close to sleeping by now. He instead hears Ran’s muffled whimpering followed by intense crying.

“I can’t take this anymore!”

Who is she talking to? He hears no other voice but hers.

“W-where are you? she sobs. I’m t-trying my best to take each d-day as it comes. I stay happy so nobody notices I’m hurt. This is too m-much. I try, I try, but it’s t-too much without you. C-come back, Sh-shinichi! W-when will you tell me everything? T-tell me what’s wrong, anything about that c-case you n-never talk about with me? I miss you! I need you! You’re my b-boyfriend, but I hardly s-see you. Pleeease, come b-back.” She continues crying.

His heart sank. “Is that how she really feels? No wonder she’s scared of that test. How can she study with my disappearance on her mind? What to do?”

He struggled sleeping that night. Ran’s crying makes Conan feel guilty about his distance and dishonesty. He’s the reason she’s in tears. If the Black Organization encounter didn’t happen, he’d be studying with her this week. But for now, a phone call tomorrow will do.

The next afternoon, Conan stays over at Agasa-hakase’s place to give Ran time to study and to fix his spare glasses, which are glitching and low on battery. He find a quiet place to dial his voice altering bowtie to his normal voice and call Ran as Shinichi.

Three tones pass. She picks up. “Hello!”

“Ran, it’s me. How have you been?”

“Ugh! Pretty stressed. I have an English test tomorrow, just the oral portion. Thank goodness! The written portion’s next week. For the oral test, our teacher and I are roleplaying as a bakery customer and employee.”

“I hate two-parters!”

“I know,” Ran replies. “I have no idea how many words I’ve remembered. I’m getting dizzy just thinking about it.”

Shinichi explains, “Well, think of it this way. For the oral part, just remember your favorite pastry and imagine how you would request that in another language. Otherwise, I think you’ll be fine. You’re great at studying.”

Ran is amused. “Thanks! I hope so. Wait! Are you saying I’m fat because I like pastries?”

“Haha! No. I’m just hungry, that’s all. The bakery situation brought that up, which reminds me, I gotta go eat,” he laughs again.”

“Good luck on your test tomorrow,” he slowly replies in English. “I think you will do fine.”

Haibara passes by him as he says this, then rolls her eyes and quietly giggles. Conan pouts and rolls his eyes back at her.

“Aww, thanks,” Ran responds back in English. “I miss you, by the way. Please, call more often, even if it’s for two minutes. I felt sad, with the test and you being gone. Almost felt like I was going to lose my mind.” She breaks into tears. “Hearing your voice makes my day. Your texts are not enough.”

Conan is at a loss for words. Should he apologize or not? That wouldn’t work, so he’s got a better idea. He begins speaking into his bowtie again, “You know what? I feel happy talking to you as well. I miss hearing your voice. Hey! Why don’t I call you tomorrow and talk about that exam? Sounds good?”

“Sure! That sounds nice. Well, I gotta go back to studying. Talk to you later! Bye!”

“Bye. Talk to you later.” He hangs up his phone, only to see a kiss emoticon on his text message alert. “This girlfriend of mine,” he thinks to himself smiling.

He heads toward the kitchen. Haibara is there preparing food.

“Heh! Quite the nice guy, aren’t you? Such a lucky girl, that Mouri-san.”

“Oi oi! That wasn’t for you. Mind your own business!” Haibara chuckles afterwards.

The next day, Conan walks down the street from his actual home, and Shinichi’s phone vibrates from his backpack. He pulls it out. It’s a text message from Ran. It read: “I did it! I passed with an almost perfect score. Thanks for your encouragement!”

“Congrats! I knew you could do it. So proud of you, Ran,” he texted. He heads over to Agasa-hakase’s house to give her a call, bowtie in hand.

“Good evening, Ran,” he begins in English.

“Shinichi! Thanks for calling me and for replying to my text. It means a lot to me.”

“No problem. So, tell me, tell me! What questions did you get on the oral exam?”

“Nothing about my favorite pastries, unfortunately,” Ran deadpanned. “But at least we talked about bread and cookies. Good thing I wasn’t hungry because I’d already eaten lunch. So, yeah. I had to greet the cashier and order what I wanted, all in English. It wasn’t too bad.”

“I’m happy for you,” Shinichi replied. They then talk more about her day and her upcoming written English exam.

“Wish I could have been your study buddy. Tell you what, next time we see each other, we could try your favorite pastries. And Ran, you can also text me too about anything, whatever is on your mind. We can also talk about next week’s written exam.”

“Great! Now, I can bore you with more food and school talk. Haha! But seriously, I’m happy you called today. This mundane conversation made my day. Even hearing your voice relieves me. Thanks! I miss you.”

“Of course! I’m glad I made your day. And I miss you too.” He briefly pauses. “Well, I gotta hang up. Talk to you later. Bye!”

“Bye, Shinichi!”

Calling her is not the same as being in person, but for now, making her happy to his best abilities is what matters to him most. Bit by bit, he gets closer to solving the case and returning to his old life. Then, he can make her happy every day until the end.

[cosmic-rainestorm]

Jealousy looks good on you - Brainy x reader

Warning:jealous Brainy. Also spoilers for S5E10.

This was requested by @diva-1992

It was strange to say the least, seeing multiple versions of your boyfriend in the same room. Ever since crisis and the rebirth of the Earth, many things have changed. A few examples is the fact that there is no more multiverse, everyone we have met on the different earth's is on one earth, Lex Luthor is liked by people and now there is multiple Brainiac 5's.

Other than the initial strangeness, the initial incident of when they all saw you and the mild discomfort from how the other Brainy's looked at you that went after a couple of minutes, you found it absolutely hilarious how they all contrasted from each other. Plus, they were generally great people to be around once the staring got to a bearable amount.

Happy Querl was easy to talk to and very enthusiastic, maybe a tad bit too much. Scared Querl had great fashion style and could have a nice conversation with once he wasn't in a constant jittering mess. Female Querl was confident and was straight to the point whilst also considering her words, although she could be kind of cold at moments. However none of them were the true Brainy, your Brainy. The one you fell in love with. He was a mix of all three but even better, and you loved him for him.

He, however, couldn't get past his own insecurities and jealousy over how well you got on with the others, and what they all did when they saw.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Situated in the room where eyepatch Brainy was left to rest, you couldn't help but feel sadness towards the man laying in front of you. He looked exactly like your Querl, except for the eyepatch, so how could you not feel an emotion to a dead man who looks identical to the one you love, even if you are yet to say it.

Prime Brainy strode into the room, pulling you out of your thoughts almost instantaneously. He pulled you into a hug and kiss you softly on the head in a form of reassurance that things would be okay.

"Brainy, I-I know that it isn't you lying on that table, but hunny, I can't help but feel grief towards him," you whispered to your partner "he looks exactly like you, probably thought like you as well, I can't help think of what his life was like on his Earth, if he found someone who got him like you and I get each other. Plus, knowing there is a killer coming after Brainiac 5's doesn't help ease any worries that you could be next. I-I-I can't lose you Querl."

Tear started pricking in your eyes at the mere thought of losing your Brainy and he could clearly tell the rodeal was upsetting you. As a couple of tears started falling down your cheeks, Brainy cupped you face ever so softly to try and centre you as he spoke,

"y/n, if you are feeling guilt for grieving for this man, don't. Your right, he does look like me, except for the eyepatch, sprock it is cool," he exclaimed with a small smile making you laugh "and he probably thought like me as well. If anything, you feeling grief towards my doppelganger shows how much you care about me, and it flatters me. And darling, you don't need to worry about me dying anytime soon. I'm not ready to leave you and I won't be for a very long time. Everyone is trying to figure out how exactly eyepatch me died and how to stop it should it happen again. In mean time, do not worry about whether I am alright or not okay?"

"Okay"

With that, you both got back to work to try an figure out how the other Brainiac 5's got to your Earth. However, that got disruptive when a certain ponytailed Colouan squealed your name and pulled you into a kiss, leaving both you and Querl stunned to say the least.

"Sprock y/n, I am so glad you made to see you, but why are you on this Earth?"

After the initial stun of the kiss, you blinked your back into exist to see two very similar but different Brainy's infront of you. I didn't help that when the other Brainiac's walked into the room, they also kissed you (angsty Querl on the top of your head and Female Querl also on the lips) and asked the same question. All you could do was stand there frozen until you fully comprehend what ahd just happened.

"Ummmmm, I'm on this Earth because I - live - hereee, " you uneasily resonded "I'm y/f/n y/l/n, I'm uh guessing you knew my dopplegangers huh."

You laughed slightly xnot knowing how to act as they all gave you looks of apologises. However your Brainy seemed to look more pissed off than apologetic to what just happened. Especially since his fist was slightly clenched whilst he rested his face atop it.

"Yes, it seems they do," he gritted out when suddenly he became very calm "y/n, do you mind if I have a word with my fellow Brainiac's, I would like to ask them questions surrounding how they got here but would prefer to ask them alone."

He simply smiled at you waiting for your answer. If you were honest, it not only scared you a little, but also intrigued you.

" Um yes of course dear. I have diagnostics to run anyway. It was uh lovely meeting you all."

With that, you left the room that all the Brainiac's were situatedto run diagnostics and simulations to try and solve their problem, whilst also getting away from all the staring and awkwardness of what just happened . However, Brainy wanted to know the reason as to why the other 3 were continuously looking at you and to why they kissed you

"If you don't mind me asking, why exactly were did all three of you kissed MY y/n"

All three turned to each other then looked at him. It wasn't until female Brainy spoke up did he get his answer.

"Well on my Earth, y/n was my wife for a year and a half and my partner for 4"

"Ah yes, she was also my girlfriend for 2 years, 7 months and 13.5 days. And what a tremendous girlfriend she is, well was I guess." Happy Brainy explained with a hint of sadness.

"ye-yes, y/n was m-my girlfriend for nearly 3 years as w-w-well. I loved her dearly, I would do absolutely anyth-thing for her."

Brainy was finding this hard to comprehend. Not only were they all him, they all had relationships with their Earths' version of you. It gave him a strange feeling, a feeling he severely did not like.

With his anxieties running wild, he left the room to run calculations and to try and keep his mind off the whole scenario.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It was only two hours later when you found Brainy huddled up in a spare room with a tablet. The other three had apologised to you and aexplained their situations and how it would take getting used being around a y/n that wasn't their own.

Leaning against the wall, you admired the Coluan that you were in love with and smiled softly to yourself.

"So, this is were you've been hiding, I was starting to worry darling."

After not getting an answer back which was odd to say the least, you started to get worried about Brainy.

"Brainy, are you okay. Is the other Brainiacs being here cause you to stress." you softly asked

No answer, only the soft murmuring of jumbled words could be heard from Brainy, a sign of either he was deep in thought or highly stressed.

"Querl, what's wrong, please talk to me"

"why would it matter" he huffed angrily "you probably prefer talking to one of the other versions of me."

You couldn't believe what he was saying, why would you want to talk to the others, you had obviously gone looking for him so you could spend time together away from the drama.

And then it hit you. You almost scolded yourself for not noticing it sooner. The clenched fist, the sudden calm nature of his commanding question, the forced smile, and the lack of contact just now.

"You're jealous, aren't you?" you pondered aloud with a slight smirk.

The question caused his head to whip around to face you, making you smirk more out of amusment.

"I am not jealous" he slightly gritted out.

"Oh but I think you are dear"

"That is proposterus-"

"It isn't though, because all he telltale signs are the-hmph"

In an instant, you were backed up into the nearest wall, Brainy towering over you. His breathing heavy, his hair dishevelled and his dark eyes piercing into your's. (If this isn't definition of scared and horny I don't know what is)

"y/n I am not jealous. I just don't like when they look at you or when they are talking to you or when they are near you. Especially after they had l kissed you. This is highly rational since you are MY girlfriend and you are the person that I fell in love with and I don't want anyone to get in the way of us, not even my dopplegangers since I am that in love with you!" he huffed out.

It took you both awhile for his confession of love to dawn on the both of you. At this point, both of your breathing was slightly erratic due to his confession (and because of Brainy, I mean damn). Brainy couldn't read your reaction to his reveal, whether you were happy, sad or confused. He was about to say he was sorry when your lips started to curl upwards into a smile that could only be described as full of love and adoration.

"I love you too, I have for a long time though I just didn't know how to tell you. And Querl, no one can get in the way of that, not even your dopplegangers, because they aren't you, they aren't the Coluan I fell so deeply in love with."

Brainy was ecstatic and so full of emotions that he leant down and kissed you feverishly on the lips, pouring every emotion he felt for you into that kiss, which you reciprocated with ease.

"Agent y/l/n, Director Danvers would like to see you"

Breaking apart with a slight gasp for air, you leant your forehead against Brainy's, slowly bringing your breathing back to a normal pace.

"How about when I've finished talking to Alex, you and me can work together to figure how the other Brainiac's got to our Earth. And once we have it all sorted out, you and me can go back to my place, order takeout and watch some movies. That sound good.

"Yes, I would very much like that, my love."

As you slowly walked towards the door to leave, a grin appeared on your face as you turned back to Brainy.

"Oh and by the way. You look extremely hot when your jealous love."

BONUS:

As Brainy entered the main control room, he saw you, Kara, Alex and the other Brainiac's standing around the main control panel.

With jealousy still coursing through him, Querl strode towards you and pulled you into a passionate kiss, shocking the others.

As he pulled away, he turned to his dopplegangers and smiled.

"y/n, is mine, got it"

Once they had all nodded, he walked away with a grin, leaving you a blushing mess and ran after him to slightly scold him.

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

AHHHHHHHHH, I HAD SO MUCH FUN WRITING THIS.

14th May - just proof read it as I saw some misspellings

[jaehyunspeachparty]

daddy jaehyun

iv.lii. (a)

The film team invited the crew to a hotel for the night. Half of the drama was filmed now and they wanted to thank the main cast for their hard work. The producers believe that the drama will be one of the most successful. Everybody put in a lot of work and of course wanted to earn enough money back in the end. That's why they tried to keep everyone happy as best they could. The event took place a bit outside of Seoul, near the sea. Jaehyun was allowed to take you with him because you step in for Miga, so to speak. Mia and Xiaojun were with the children and you were on your way to the hotel. However, everything was still very tense between you. The situation had hardly cleared up and everything dragged on because you never had time to say something. And the result was that the mood between you two was pretty toxic. Under normal circumstances, you're happy to stay in a hotel alone with your husband, but since you're still in an argument, it was all pretty difficult. "Should I turn on the heater?" Jaehyun asked after a very long silence. You stare out the window and watch the lights of the city roll past you. "Yes, maybe a little," you say and turn back to him. It became quiet again between you and you both felt uncomfortable, but you don't know what to say to Jaehyun. "I know it's hard for us right now, but I'm really looking forward to the evening." He glanced back at you briefly, but somehow the statement triggered you. "Great, thanks that I have time in your schedule too," you say ironically and look out the window again. "Do we have to take it up again? You know exactly how I meant it!" Jaehyun was angry again and it was all going in the wrong direction. "So I misunderstood that you have to neglect me because other things are more important now?" "Don't you care about your children too?" "It's not about the kids." "Y/N, sometimes I really don't know what you want from me. I work, I can't just leave and I just don't want our children to forget my face. Sunoh hardly looks at me anymore. Do you know how much that hurt me? " Jaehyun's voice grew louder and he gripped the steering wheel tightly. You knew he was right, but you still didn't like it all. You were missing something and you couldn't tell what it was. So you decide to keep looking out of the window and not say anything. Jaehyun also needed a moment to calm down. In the meantime the emotions were high for both of you because each of you tried to do what is right. But everyone had a point of view and it was just a tough time for you. "Y/N, I love you. I don't want to argue ..." Jaehyun sighed and took a deep breath. He knew he had to take the first step in that regard. You also turn carefully to him. You don't want any of that either. "It's a difficult time ... for both of us. And I definitely don't want to neglect you. That's why I want to enjoy this evening. I'm happy that you get to know the people who work with me and Miga and I think that it won't hurt us to sleep alone, without children, in a bed again." He glanced at you briefly and smiled. You too have to smile and confess that he was right. "Yes, sleep sounds wonderful for me." Jaehyun was relieved after your words and he grabbed your thigh with one hand, which he slowly stroked. "You look amazing today. The green dress is ..." He bit his lip and immediately had to focus his gaze on the street again, otherwise he would be too distracted. You have made special preparations for tonight. The dress was one of the first you like yourself after giving birth to the twins. "You look very good today too," you say with a wink and lean in his direction. Jaehyun drove to the hotel parking lot and you two get out immediately. You were about to go to reception when Jaehyun grabbed your arm. "Come here." He pulled you close and hugged you. "I love you," he whispered as he looked down at you. You had to smile and kiss him gently. "I love you too."

The producers of the drama rented their own room in the hotel restaurant. You run shyly to the side of Jaehyun and as always you feel out of place, but soon you see Gong Myeong, whom you know very well. During the time when you did more with Doyoung, before it was serious with Jaehyun, you also got to know Gong Myeong. You always got along well and you were glad that he worked so much with Miga in the drama because you trust him. But you soon meet his acting partner Minu. Somehow your stomach immediately contracted at the sight of her. She was cute, beautiful and everyone loved her. The attention was always with her and she shone in every way. "I'm really happy to get to know you." Minu came up to you and hugged you. Jaehyun looked at her skeptically. He didn't like it all because he knew you were jealous. He didn't want to trigger you any more. He didn't even look at Minu, even if she kept trying to get his attention. You couldn't deny Minu was nice, but it all seemed so wrong to you. After dessert, Jaehyun got up and whispered something in your ear. "Come on, let's go. I want to be alone with you." You had to smile and got up too. Jaehyun immediately took your hand and you say goodbye to the people. Your excuse was  that you hardly get any sleep because of the children and that you were already tired because of it. But in reality you had something else in mind.

It was briefly awkward between you two. You were like a couple that would sleep together for the first time and didn't really know each other. Jaehyun took the hotel card and opened the door. You stood behind him and you were nervous. And then you stood in the hotel room and you weren't sure what to do. But that look Jaehyun gave you was indescribable. For a long time he was looking at you again as if he were hungry for you. You actually don't say anything anymore. Jaehyun just ran up to you and pressed your body against the wall. He held your face with his hands and he began to kiss you passionately. The kiss was intense, there was so much energy in you that you haven't been able to process for weeks. Anger, love, hate, passion, despair ... so many emotions were in you. It was a moment just between you, as intimate as it has not been for a long time and with your bodies you could say more to each other than words could express it. Jaehyun turned to the side and picked you up on the small desk. You spread your legs and he pulled your dress up a little. With his lips touching your neck, you toss your head back. You didn't know if it was a good thing to solve your problem like this, but it was all you wanted. His hands brushed your hips and it felt so amazing. His lips were over your neck and it triggered everything in you. He pressed his middle between your spread legs and this foreplay slowly became unbearable. You stroke your hands over his chest and he moaned softly at your touch. He peeled his lips from your skin and looked at your fingers. And for the first time you could see how much he apparently missed it. He was just as hungry for your body as you were for his. But then why all the rejection? You start to undo the first buttons on his shirt and at that moment Jaehyun looks for your lips again. But at that moment you can't anymore and you push Jaehyun away. At first he looks at you puzzled, but you immediately get on your knees and your hands were immediately on his belt buckle. Jaehyun moaned softly and throws his head back. But at the moment when you wanted to open the belt buckle, someone knocked on the door. You look at Jaehyun in amazement and you didn't quite know what to do. "Shall we pretend we're not there?" You ask him and slowly get up again. Jaehyun nodded and you wait a moment, but there was another knock. "Hey Jaehyun, I know you're probably asleep already, but ..." Minu stood in front of the door and you can hear a sob. Jaehyun immediately hugged you and was still very still. "But ... I just found out that my aunt died ... and ... she was always like a mother to me ..." Minu kept crying in front of the door and you just shake your head more. "We can't let her cry in front of the door," you say and walk in her direction, but Jaehyun held you briefly. "We don't have to ..." he whispered, but you didn't want to do that to him. After all, he has to work with her for a few more weeks, and so does Miga. "It's okay," you say, even feeling a little sorry. You open the door and look at the woman. "I'm sorry, but I can't go to Gong Myeong and I don't know anyone else that well." She kept crying and you let her into your room. You still had a bad gut feeling about her, but what should you do. An important person in your life has died. You know how hard it is. "I hope I don't bother you," she said and sat down on the bed. "No, we're just finally going to have a night without children, what should we do?" You roll your eyes and sit on the armchair next to the table. "Okay," she said naively and smiled. "What's going on?", Jaehyun asked and looked at her. Minu started sobbing again and pulled a handkerchief out of her pocket. "My aunt. I knew she had cancer, but I didn't think she was going to die anytime soon." At that moment your stomach contracted again. All your nausea came up and you didn't want to throw up here now. You still had hope for this evening and if you puked up on the toilet now, all eroticism would be gone. "I'll quickly get something to snack," you say and get up. Jaehyun wanted to follow you behind, but you were faster because your nausea was getting worse.

When you closed the door, you didn't know if it was such a good idea to leave them alone, but you felt sick again and if you puked in the room, everyone would notice. You immediately run into the bathroom by the reception and you just managed to get to the toilet. You sit on the ground, on cold tiles and slowly you knew the reason for it. It was the stress, whenever you got jealous, you got sick. But it could hardly go on like this. You found it so difficult to keep your food down, but at the same time you are still breastfeeding the twins. You find that your body has become weak and the babies need more too. You couldn't keep up with the calories. Every time you sat there and threw up, you barely had the strength to pull yourself up. "Miss, are you okay?" Suddenly you see black high heels that only the receptionists were wearing. She probably heard you when she checked the toilet. "Yeah, I just feel sick." You're trying to play it back like you've been doing all along. But the woman was not so easy to get rid of. "May I come in?" She was now standing in front of your door and you open the lock with your last strength. A beautiful, elegant Korean woman stood in front of you and looked at you with concern. "Are you all right?" She leaned down to you and examined you. "Everything's fine, I'm just a little sick." You knew if you got up you would fall again because you were just too weak. But the receptionist shook her head. "Wait, we're going to the lobby." She put your arm around her and propped you up. With her help, you could get up and take a few steps. In the lobby there was a couch that she sat you on and the woman brought you a glass of water. "Should I call someone?" She asked, still worried, but you shake your head. "No, it should be okay in a few minutes." You take a sip of water and hope that you slowly regained your strength. "Okay, I still have a blanket here and if anything happens, I'll be right over here." She was really worried and you thought that was totally cute. "Thank you, thank you very much." You couldn't say more because you still feel weak. The woman went back to reception, but kept an eye on you. In the meantime you lean to the side and look out the window. You had imagined everything very differently. You don't know how, but different. And it had started so well, but Jaehyun's drama partner had to destroy everything. "Y/N?" Suddenly you hear a familiar voice behind you and you look at him in surprise. It was Gong Myeong and he was also looking at you with concern. "Are you okay?" He asked and then sat down on the couch with you. Apparently, you look sick because everyone was looking at you worryingly. "Yes, everything is fine. I just feel dizzy." You reach for your forehead and smile. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be with Jaehyun?" He frowned, looking even more troubled. "I was so in the mood for caramel and just wanted to get something quickly." You didn't want to explain all your problems with Minu to him now. "Why didn't he come with you?" Somehow it felt like he already knew the answer. You sighed and look at him seriously. "We wanted to be alone. I mean, we're a couple and one night without children, but then Minu came to us." Somehow it all still felt like a dream, because you were so dizzy that everything seemed so unreal. "And why didn't you send her away?" He asked further. "She cried, said her aunt had died. I don't want to be mean, but I couldn't stand it and had to go." You thought Gong Myeong thought badly of you now. You felt like everyone liked Minu, but Gong Myeong frowned. "Minu has no aunt," said Gong Myeong suddenly. "What?" You look at him in shock and you didn't know if you were hallucinate or heard the real thing. "I was with her for six months and I got to know her family. Her parents are each only child." He leaned to the side and he was pretty sure. You didn't know what to say. Should you be angry? Should you run right up? "What's happening?" You don't even know what to think anymore. Slowly you got enough that women kept saying that they could get Jaehyun. You hate this competition, you never want to have a competition like this. "Y/N, you are just finished and tired, but Minu is a notorious liar." He looked at you with big eyes and it acted like a warning. You claw your way into the ceiling and think about getting up, but then you hear your name calling. "Y/N, what's wrong?" Jaehyun came down the stairs and Minu followed closely. But when she saw Gong Myeong, she slowed down. "I just got dizzy," you say quickly and try to smile. Gong Myeong looked skeptically at Jaehyun, who didn't like it at all. "Come on, let's go to the room." He ignored Gong Myeong and picked you up, Minu was about to follow both of you when Gong Myeong called for her. "Minu, come on." He looked at her admonishingly and Jaehyun turned around in surprise, but Gong Myeong pulled the woman away.

Jaehyun carried you into the room and put you to bed. It was not easy for you because you were totally weak. But slowly you could collect yourself again and when you were in bed you felt better. "How long has it been going on?" Jaehyun then asked and lay down next to you. Slowly you couldn't hide your condition from him anymore. "Over 2 weeks ..." you confessed to him and you couldn't even look him in the eye. "Why didn't you go to the doctor?" He asked, surprised. "Because I feel sick, then puke and then everything feels alright again. I think it's just the stress." You look at your husband and wanted to downplay the matter further. "At the beginning I also thought that it was the stress, but now I have a different assumption." Jaehyun lay down next to you and looked at you. "What?" You ask him in surprise. "Do you really have no idea?" He asked and you shake your head. "Could it be that you are pregnant?", He asked directly and then it overwhelmed you. Somehow you hadn't thought of this option. Jaehyun recognized your confused look and explained how he came to this conclusion. "We already have three pregnancies through and with our angel even a fourth. I have seen you so often ... I know you. You have mood swings, nausea, you are extremely horny, you crave and you are constantly tired. We've already done it all. " Jaehyun looked at you and slowly it came to you. Why did he see it and you didn't? Otherwise you were sensitive in this regard anyway. "But we take precautions." You bite your lower lip because so much was on your mind. "Maybe you couldn't take something or we made a mistake?" Jaehyun gently stroked your body and you were surprised how calm he was. But then you start to cry. "We can't have a fifth child. We can't do it." You're starting to panic because it all made so much sense. Then Jaehyun took you in his arms and kissed you gently. "We don't know anything yet. Let's do a pregnancy test and then we'll see. Okay?" You were so surprised that he was still so calm. And so you spend the night together, very intimate and with an uncertain future.

daddy jaehyun masterlist

[reminiscing-writer]

Off The Deep End

-

4

Warnings: violence, harsh language, fainting, miscarriage, and lots and lots of crying.

-

Derek Morgan, if you go over to those curtains one more time, I swear on all my plushies back at Quantico, I will beat your ass myself.” Penelope threatens for the fourth time in the past few hours. She receives a smile from Emily who’s seated beside a napping JJ.

“Babygirl. I’m just trying to open a window, it’s too hot here.” He squints at her, with sweat beads on his forehead.

“I don’t care!” She snaps, placing her laptop aside a little rougher than she'd like. She gets up from her spot on the couch, and shoves Derek aside from the open window, “You’re going to sweat through your clothes, you are going to make a puddle on this floor. I don’t care! But, we are not opening these, because if these open, then my internet fades away, and if my internet goes away, then I can't do any digging to find Spencer. So, no, Derek, you may not open the window!” She snaps.

He stares at her for a moment with wide eyes silently. As she returns back to her spot he follows her and sits at her feet.

“What?” She growls frustratedly. He softly takes her glasses off her face and folds them, putting them aside. “I can't see without those, Derek.” She huffs, going to take them back. He stops her hands, and brings them to his mouth and gives her knuckles soft kisses.

“Sweetie, I know this is stressful. It’s hard on all of us,” He speaks to her with love, “but, it's important we don't lose our temper with each other.” She looks at him dearly with teary eyes.

“I just wish I could do more.” She sniffles quite like a mouse, tears dripping from her eyes, “I feel like we’re not doing enough to help him.”

The team is all at wits end. It’s very clear. Earlier, Hotch had lost his temper with JJ because she hadn’t ‘talked to the local police about the case yet’. Even he knew that was a ridiculous thing to argue over, because, the local PD had nothing to do with this case. But, nonetheless, he had yelled at her, and she had argued back, causing the both to walk away from each other heated.

“Well, then talk to me. Tell me, what is it that can help you work better.” Derek wipes his dear friends cheeks, “Want me to help set the internet a little better?” He asks, stroking her cheeks with his large hands.

Her lips perk up at the corners, “Now you're talking my language, Baby.” She nods like a little child. The two continue back and forth for a bit. They don't realize they have a watcher from afar.

From the dining table in the kitchen, Amelia sat watching the two agents longingly. She knew they didn't have a romantic relationship, but she envied the way they were touching each other and smiling and loving. She envied them and she hated herself for it. Because, with every hour that passed without Spencers being found, was another hour that she was growing angrier.

Not at the team, she knew they were trying their best. But, at herself? She didn't really know; she just needed to be angry at something, or someone.

“How are you feeling?” A hand on Amelia's back startles her. She looks up to see Aaron.

He was older than her by a good decade or so, but Spencer always spoke with such respect to his name. Not so much as a father figure, but more so an older brother. So, eventually that's the role Amelia gave him in her life also.

“Alright,” She lied, taking a sip of her unintended cold coffee.

He takes a seat beside her. He’s about to say something when Derek and Penelope both call for Amelia.

Both of the two seated in the kitchen come into the living room. Hearing their call startles JJ awake, as she was napping on the love seat opposite to them. Emily places a hand on her thigh to reassure her nothing has happened.

“Ameilia,” Garcia starts off just above a whisper, “did you ever have anyone come and check your internet?”

All eyes are on her, “Yeah,” she's confused. She already said the internet was slow. Why does it matter? “I called someone a couple months back, but he didn't really help. In fact, I think it just got worse after he checked it.” She half shrugs. “Spencer thought I was crazy when I told him that.” She gives a ghost of a smile.

“What exactly did he do? The man you called for the wi-fi?” Penelope pries.

“Why does it matter?” Hotch asks.

“Just give me a second to figure this out,” Penelope stalls, looking back to Amelia, “What did he do when he came?”

Amelia licks her dry lips, starting to get anxious, “Um- he checked our router and our modem. Said it was old school, and he would give us a new one free of cost.” She takes a shaky breath in, “Why?”

“Where’s the new system he set up?” Derek asks, standing up from the couch he was seated on.

After Amelia points to the closet in her room, she comes back to Penelope. “Pen, what is it?”

“I have a hunch,” Garcia says, typing on her laptop, “I don't want to be right about it.” Derek comes out of the room with a tiny black box with flashing red lights. He hands it to Garcia, who without a beat says, “But, I'm afraid I am.”

“Sweatpea, this isn’t a new modem. This is a blocker.” Penelope says, turning it around and switching off numerous buttons on it. “The guy, whoever he was, came in here, and planted this on purpose.” She speaks directly to Ameila, though the whole team is watching her with wide eyes.

“Why would - why would someone do that?” Amelia stutters.

“It all makes so much more sense now!” Penelope's brain switches a flip and she tosses the blocker onto the floor, and starts typing hard on her computer. She laughs, “My internet is back! And I got something else too!” JJ gets up to stretch her legs and is instructed by Pen to go and open the curtains.

She's confused, but follows orders as told.

“Derek Morgan, I could kiss you.” Peneople is in her own world.

“I would love that, I really would. But, if we could know why…?” He snaps in front of her screen but she shoos his fingers away. She's in a trance. Maybe it's just because her internet is back up and running, but Amelia begins to get impatient.

She finally turns the screen around to show the team what she's looking at. She's panting as though she ran a mile in under a minute.

The whole team looks at her screen in confusion. “Is that-?” Emily starts.

“Is that us?” Amelia finishes.

“That's us.” Morgan confirms as he raises his arm just to watch his arm raise on the screen.

“What is going on?” Aaron looks at Penelope.

Penelope waits for a dramatic pause, and then she says with complete confidence, “Amelia, someone has been watching you and Spencer for a while now. That same someone was the one who had that blocker planted in your apartment, so they could block any interruptions in and out of here. My bet is,” She turns her laptop back around, “they’re the ones in charge of Spencer's kidnapping.”

Amelia takes in all the information one by one. “But, I called the internet guy just out of chance.” She recalls her memory.

“Where did you find his number?” Emily asks.

“Spencer gave it to me. Actually, he’s the one who called him.” She remembers, “I had complained to him that I was having trouble working on my kindergarteners report cards, so he said he had found someones number on a bulletin board. He’d spoken to him himself, and said the guy would come over the weekend.”

“This is good,” Hotch says, “this is the closest thing to a lead we’ve had since Spencer has gone missing. Emily and Derek, you two go and check out the bulletin boards back at the office, and check if you can see what number Spencer had gotten in contact with.”

The two agents nod, and head out of the apartment, “Penelope,” Hotch says. As she looks up, he replies, “great work.” She beams a smile.

Amelia feels something deep in her stomach. Maybe it's the baby she never forgets about. Or, maybe it's the sense of guilt taking over her. Because, if she hadn't complained to Spencer about the crappy wi-fi, then the man wouldn't have come over. If he didnt come over, he wouldn't have planted the blocker which would mean they wouldn't have surveillance on them. Which would mean Spencer wouldn't have gotten kidnapped, and then he’d still be here today holding her close and-

She begins to feel lightheaded and loses her footing slightly staggering in place. Aaron quickly catches eye of her losing balance and runs up to her. He quickly places a hand on her back and seats on the nearest couch.

“Amelia, we will find him, you have to take it easy..” He reassures her. Most, if not all, of the team knew about her pregnancy. Only the females had made it verbal, but the males also showed just a little extra care towards her in the past 24 hours

-

-

Emily and Derek roll up to their Quanatico office half an hour after the conversation back at the Doctors apartment. They both step out of the car. “So, what are we looking for?” Derek asks, taking off his sunglasses, tucking them into his back pocket.

“Well, Amelia said Spencer had found the electricians number on the bulletin board. Our first best bet is probably the one in the kitchen.”

“But,” Derek opens the door for Emily, “is it really like him to just call a random stranger over to his apartment? I mean, the guy doesn't sound like he worked for a big company.”

The two file into the elevator and start heading up, “Well, he's not really one for technology, is he? He wouldn't really care as long as the problem got solved. Amelia said herself, the problem wasn't bothering him, it was bothering her.” Emily walks out of the elevator first after it stops.

“And, he would do anything in his power to help her be happy.” Derek says as they walk into the bullpen and head for the kitchen. “Even if that meant calling up a stranger and asking for help.”

When they walk into the kitchen nothing stands out to them. Coffee is brewing for other agents, sing has a few dirty mugs, and the bulletin board is just filled with papers they'd seen before.

Derek skims the pages and doesn't seem satisfied, “This is all the regular stuff. Flyers for newbies, orientation timings, and lectures by older agents. Nothing about electricians.”

“Well, there has to be something somewhere.” Emily grunts as she goes to fill herself a mug of hot caffeine. She offers to make Derek a cup, but he declines politely.

“Okay, so I’m Pretty Boy, okay?” He looks at Prentiss, “My wife needs help with the internet at home. I don't know jack squat about that stuff, so what do I do?”

“Ask someone else for help?”

“But, I'm also too shy to ask someone myself. I don't see any flyers here at work, so…” he trails for a second before continuing, “maybe, i see a flyer at my regular cafe.” He lifts an eyebrow suggestively.

Emliy hums in agreement, “Could be.” She nods, “He does get to work with coffee in hand, so he has a regular spot. Someone was already watching him, so they probably knew that. Could’ve planted a trap for him there.”

Derek takes out his phone and dials a memorized number on speaker, “Speak to me, Chocolate Thunder.” Penelope answers.

“Hey, Mama. I need you to look up the route from Spencer's apartment to work. Tell me what coffee shops you see between us.”

Typing begins on the other side before the hear Amelia's shy voice.

“Is this regarding Spencer?”

“Yeah,” Emily answers, “would you happen to know where he got his morning coffee from, Amelia?”

“Uh, yes,,” she replies, “it’s this small cafe like ten minutes from here.” She pauses, “I think it's called The Corner Brewery.”

“Already sent you the address to your cells.” Garcia adds.

“Of course The Genius marries a Genius.” Derek smiles, “You're a lifesaver, Amelia. You too, PC. Get back to you two soon.” He hangs up.

“To the The Corner Brewery we go.” Emily jangles the keys.

-

-

Amelia is in the kitchen making some pasta. No one is hungry, including her. But no one stops her, because she needs something to keep herself busy or she goes back into overthinking mode. Unhealthy for her and the baby.

Penelope sits clacking away at her computer. She had a router backtracking number from the camera she had gotten connected to (the surveillance footage one), so she was hoping she could find the location it was coming from.

Hotch sat across from her, on the phone with Strauss because she was on his ass about his entire team being absent from work with no notice. Hotch was winning the argument, he usually is.

JJ walks into the kitchen, “Can I help?” She offers.

“No, thank you.” Amelia says quietly and politely.

“Amelia,” JJ calls for her attention, “Em and Derek are so close to getting more information. We’ll find him. I promise.”

“Aren't you not allowed to give empty promises like that?” Amelia locks eyes with JJ for the first time all day. It knocks the breath out of Jennifer because she sees just how broken Amelia looks. Her eyes are puffy and rimmed red from constant crying. Her nose is red, and her lips are trembling.

“I’m sorry, I-”

“It’s okay, I just-,” Amelia turns back to the pot she was stirring, “I really want him to come back home, but please stop giving me false hope.”

It breaks JJ’s heart seeing Amelia so broken. They were never super close, but Amelia was Spencer's wife. And, Spencer was her best friend, and that was enough for her to love Amelia.

A knock on the front door breaks the girl's attention away from their brief conversation.

Hotch stands up immediately, and JJ protectively stands in front of Amelia, with her hand immediately on the gun on her waist. Hotch takes a slow step towards the door, and calls out loudly, “Who is it?”

No answer.

Hotch looks back at JJ, and when she nods, indicating she's ready to fire on command, he swiftly opens the door, pulling out his own gun simultaneously. There's no one at the door, which makes Amelia exhale a breath she didn't know she was holding.

Theres a small package on the welcome mat outside, and just as the previous package, in messy handwriting, it has Mrs. Reid scribbled on it.

Hotch quickly looks outside the door left, right, then left again, and brings the package inside. After shutting and locking the door, he places it on the center table.

Amelia, still traumatized from the last thing they received slowly approaches it, “What is it?”

Aaron shrugs, “Light,” he lowers himself to inspect the package before opening it, “doesn't seem like there's much in it.”

“Maybe you should go inside,” Penelope offers, “since last time-”

“No,” Amelia quickly interjects, “I can handle it. I can do it, I have to. This is about my husband.” She inhales deeply, “I can be strong for him. Open it, Aaron,” She encourages him with the fakest face of courage she can muster up.

He waits a moment, but realizes she's not going anywhere. He begins opening the packing cautiously, just to realize it's a cardboard box. Inside is just a disk. A CD. No label, no tag, no writing. Just a CD.

All heads turn to Garcia, and she nods and holds out a palm to Hotch, “Pass it, I’ll check what it is.”

He hands it to her and she inserts into her laptop. Amelia is seated beside her watching her work away on her laptop.

“There’s a single file on here. A video.” She squints at her screen.

Without another movement made by Garcia, a video opens up on her computer. Her and Amelia gasp in unison. It’s Spencer. Tied to a chair, bloody rag covering his now four-fingered hand.

He looks scared, and bloodied and bruised. His hair is matted down to his forehead and one of his eyes is so swollen that it’s shut. Breathing labored, he tilts his up towards the camera slightly, his messy hair moving with him.

Amelias eyes water and her lips tremble. She covers her mouth with a shaky hand to stop herself from crying. Be brave, she reminds herself, be brave and strong for Spencer.

Penelope places her equally shaking hand on her friends thigh, just as to remind her, we’re here for you.

“Whenever you’re ready, Spencie.” A voice says from off camera. Garcia places the laptop front and center on the living room coffee table.

Spencer takes a deep breath, “Amelia,” his bottom lip quivers, “I am so sorry, Sweetheart.” At the mention of the nickname Amelia whimpers. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, and I would never have hoped you would be involved in this also.” He shut both his eyes and looked down at his lap. “We’ll figure this out, Buttercup.” This nickname causes Amelia's eyes to water and start streaming silent tears. “Just you and me, against the world.” A small smile from him earns him an identical one from his wife.

“And, Amelia, I promise you,” he swallows hard, looking back up once again. His face almost unrecognizable, this time JJ looks away with her eyes shut, “once I get out of here, you and me, we’ll go on that date to Griffith Park observatory you’ve always wanted to go to. But, maybe we’ll skip the ending, I don’t like the end of the observatory.” Amelia furrows her brows, her heart beating a mile a minute. “And, then, maybe we could watch a movie. Like that one Jim Carrey film. What was it? Something, Ventura? It was top class acting, I know you said that.” Amelia can sense something off, but she couldn’t place her finger on it. She messily wipes her tears, sniffling. She stands up catching the eye of JJ.

“Please, Amelia.” Spencer pleaded desperately, “I love you.” He was crying too. His voice was shaking. He was at his breaking point.

“Hey, Lover Boy!” The same voice from before came loudly. A man walked from behind the camera, keeping in mind of not showing his face. He walks towards Spencer, his back to the viewers, “Would you like to give us the password now?”

Amelias breathing shallowes, and she unconsciously placed a hand on her stomach. As she stares at Spencer with wide eyes, the man swings a punch straight to his gut. “Couldn’t hear you, dear.” He chuckles evilly.

Amelia watches in horror as the man cracks his knuckles, “Speak up for me.'' Another punch gets delivered to her husband's chest.

“Please stop.” Spencer pleaded, spitting blood. The sight made Amelia cry loudly, and Aaron tries to move her from in front of the screen.

“Garcia, turn it off.” He orders, equally shaken up.

“I’m trying,” she cries, tapping at herkeyboard, “it won’t go away.” She sniffles desperately.

“You know what I want. Give it to me, and I’ll stop.” The man threatens. He walks away for a second just to return back into the screen with a large metal rod.

“Garcia!” Aaron scolds loudly.

“It won’t turn off!” She yells back, scared.

Spencer squeezes his eyes shut, and as if Amelia's body couldn’t handle seeing her husband get hurt any longer, her eyes shut on her, and she falls straight to the floor.

“I’ll tell you!” The team hears Spencer plead on camera. But, no one is watching the screen anymore. Instead, they all quickly huddle around Amelia, who lay on the floor. Eyes shut with tears streaking her cheeks. The commotion of the apartment is loud for the next few moments.

Spencer in the video giving a password to his captor. Garcia is on the phone with the police, telling them to send an ambulance to her current address. JJ is trying to wake up Amelia, her head being softly placed onto the agents lap.

JJ strokes Amelia's hair softly, “Amelia, please. Please wake up.” She whispers, her eyes ready to leak tears.

Aaron, in the midst of the chaos, turns his attention to Spencer just to hear him say the last few letters.

“That’s not right.” He mumbles, grabbing JJ’s attention.

“What?” She looks up.

“That’s not the code. If the code they want is the Integrity Files one, he gave them a faulty password.”

“Why would he do that?” She asks.

A few moments later, paramedics rush into the apartment. After Garcia argues her way into the ambulance also, JJ and Aaron agree to meet at the hospital.

“I’ll let Derek and Emily know.” JJ says to Garcia as she sits next to a still unconscious Amelia. Penelope nods and the medics shut the ambulance doors.

-

-

Back at The Corner Brewery, Derek and Emily walk with purpose. The barista asks them for their orders.

“No coffee, although, we were wondering if you guys had a bulletin board of any sort?” Emily asks as Derek takes a look around.

The cafe was very large. It was busy, and the amount of customers made Derek nervous if they would find any information they seeked.

“Yes,” the man behind the counter replied bored, “we allow paying customers to post any advertisements they want over there.” He points to a cork board that hung at the end of the store.

Very big, and very much covered in papers, and stickers and flyers.

They nod, and before heading to the board, Derek feels the need to flash his badge. Just to show that he has a reason to be here.

“Where do we start?” Emily gawks at the board. There’s at least 50 different papers layered on top of one another.

The two agents start to remove paper by paper to see if they can see any ads that may stand out. After half an hour of unsuccessful searching, Derek excused himself.

“I gotta take a bathroom break, Prentiss.” He walks away as she nods. He walks up to the barista and asks for the men’s room. As he’s about to walk away, he catches glimpse of a page hanging behind the wall the barista stood in front of. “Hey, my man.” He grabs the servers attention, “What’s that?” He points to the page.

The barista comes by. He tears the paper off the wall and hands it to him. “An ad, probably hung up by one of the other servers here. Customers aren’t allowed back here.” He gives a half shrug before walking away.

Need help with bad internet? Call us today!

Derek rushes back to Em to show her what he found.

“Hey, check this out.” He hands it to her.

She reads it over. It looks simple, like it was printed at home. A stock photo image of a computer with a large red cross over it. The heading was big and bold. Loud enough to catch attention.

At the bottom of the page, there was a name and number.

“Leonel Cassum.” Emily reads the name at the bottom.

“I think we should give him a call,” Derek looks over at the number, “after that bathroom break.” He turns back around to where he was before.

-

“So, Leonel,” Derek starts, sitting opposite of the male they called in for questioning, “tell me, how’s business?”

He’s confused. The freckles on his nose move as he scrunches his nose, “It’s alright, going decent enough.” He looks from Derek to Emily and back. “Am I allowed to ask why I’m here?”

Derek gives a large smile, almost condescendingly, “Of course you are,” he pauses, waving over Emily. She hands him a folder. “now, do you know who Dr. Spencer Reid is?”

The young blonde shakes his head. “No, why am I here?” There’s a shake in his voice.

“Because,” Emily takes a seat next to Derek, “Dr. Reid is missing. And you’re our only lead. The whole case is sitting on your shoulders.” She points her index to him.

He stares back, mouth agape, “W-what? No, no that’s not possible.” He leans forward, “Look, you guys have the wrong guy. I didn’t do anything. I don’t even know who that is!” He looks desperately from one agent to the other.

“Really?” Emily raises an eyebrow, “Well, it says in your call records,” she opens her folder, “that you spoke to Dr. Reid exactly three months ago. It was a five minute long call. He had called you, at,” she squints at her page, “8 in the morning. Early, huh?” She looks to Morgan.

“Well, maybe Leonel here isn’t an early riser. That’s why he doesn’t remember who he spoke with. Right, Leonel?” Derek looks to their guest.

He stares back, “I- I may have spoken to him.” He shrugs, “But, I speak to a lot of people everyday. It’s nothing significant.”

“Well, it must’ve been. Because, you spoke to him on a Friday, and agreed the very next day. Fast service for such a busy company.” Emily counters.

Leonel looks to the dark haired agent, “It must’ve been a slow weekend, I really don’t know what you guys are intending.” He continues his innocence.

Emily stands up slamming the table with her palms, scaring the kid, “We’re intending you spoke to the Doctor, came to his house, placed a blocker in his home,” she inches close to Leonel's face, “and have been watching him like a stalker since then. Now he’s gone missing! So, who’s head is that on? Yours!” She yells in his face.

Leonel scoots back, “I didn’t do any of that!” He cries.

“We have footage of you walking into his apartment, Leonel!” Emily walks around the table so she’s next to his chair, “How much are you going to lie before you break?” She stares at him menacingly. Derek quietly watches, playing the good cop between them.

Leonel's shoulders start to shake.

“I’m real tight on money.” He squeaks. “Some guy came up to me at a cafe and told me he’d pay me hefty if I just go along with a few things he wanted.” He looks to Derek, almost ignoring Emily.

“It started off small, like just making a flyer. Then he told me I'd receive a call,” he wipes his nose with his sleeve, “and after a few days, I did. I was told what to say, and I did exactly that.” He wipes his tears quickly, “All I did was set up a small blocker in his apartment.” His breathing gets shaky again, “But, that’s all! That’s all I did! I didn’t kidnap anyone! I didn’t hurt anyone! I swear!” He cries.

Emily goes back around next to Derek, “If he’s saying the truth, then there’s another surveillance guy.”

“I don’t know who he is,” Leonel speaks quietly, “but,” he swallows hard, “I can tell you where he’s at. I heard the guys who hired me talk about it once.”

Leonel gets sat with a facial artist first, to hopefully get a rough sketch of the man who hired him. And then he gives the address of what he thinks should be the place the creep who was watching Spencer is set up.

-

Derek drives to the given address, which happens to be just a street opposite of Spencer and Amelia's abode.

“Makes sense, seeing as how close this is to Amelia's place,” Emily gets out of the passenger seat and looks up at a tall building, squinting as the sun hits her eyes.

“Well, this is the address blondie gave us, so let's give it a look.” Derek starts to walk into the apartment complex before them.

They walk in and quickly come to realize that anything could happen in this building, and no one would know. The place was empty. Maybe there were residents living there, but whoever they were, they were very much to themselves.

The two agents make sure their badges are on display on their belts, and start to inspect the building. Slowly making their way up each floor, they finally stop at the 7th floor. As the elevator doors open, Derek stops the doors from closing with his hands, “Well, this looks promising.”

The floor seemed to be under construction. Paint buckets laid everywhere, and plastic sheets hung from the walls.

As the two stepped out of the elevator, they hear a paint can fall in the distance. Instantly whipping their head in that direction, Emily calls out loudly, “Federal Agents! Who's there?”

When instead of a reply they hear footsteps running, both of them grab a hold of their weapons and start running towards the sound. Derek gives a quick and quiet hand motion, telling Emily to split up to over more ground.

It a large floor and the place is split into different sections just by plaster or lanky wood. Once the footsteps stop, the only sound they hear is wind and their own breathing. Neither of the agents say a word.

Then, a sound behind Morgan, something sounding like a rustling makes him whip his entire body around and instinctively tackle. And rightfully so, because down goes the man they’re supposedly looking for.

Emily comes running up next to the two men who are wrestling, (although Morgan is most definitely winning). She hands Derek a pair of handcuffs and pulls out her vibrating cell to see JJs caller ID.

“Great time, JJ,” She breathes into the phone catching her breath. “We’ve got good news.”

“I’ve got some bad news.” JJ says at the same time on the other end. When Emily doesn’t say anything else, she continues, “What’s the good news?”

Emily walks a few feet away from Derek as he forces his handcuffed man up forcefully. She walks towards a set up right by an open window. A camera, a laptop, a few other boxes that are beeping green and red, and something that she didn’t expect; a large sniper rifle. All aiming straight at the dear doctors apartment.

“We found our peeping Tom. Well, he seems more like sniping Tom, but you know what I mean.” Emily says, “What’s the bad news?” She furrows her brows.

“Amelia fainted at the apartment.” JJ says, “We received a video of Spencer and she passed out while watching it. We’re headed to the hospital now.”

“Okay, we’ll meet you there.” Em replies, following Derek into the elevator.

“Oh, yeah, and Em?”

“Yeah?”

“This is about the Integrity Case. The kidnappers were torturing Reid for the password on camera.”

-

-

We’re so sorry. Sorry. So sorry. We tried. Our deepest condolences.

It doesn’t make any sense to Amelia. Sorry about what? She can barely remember what’s happened, and here doctors and nurses apologizing to her.

She continues to stay silent as a male doctor stands before her speaking of something that doesn’t register in her brain.

She’s in a hospital. She knows that. She’s been changed into a gown, she knows that also. Her mind feels woozy, that’s something also.

A nurse steps in front of her, “Is there anything I can do for you, Darling? Before we leave you for a bit.”

Amelia licks her lips before speaking, “I’m just a little lost,” as she speaks, she realizes she’s slurring her words slightly, “what’s happened?” She blinks hard.

“Oh,” the nurses blinks, “well, you’re friends out there say you had a fainting episode. And, well, sometimes if the body is undergoing a lot of stress, it can put a lot of stress on the baby also.” She's speaking slowly and clearly- unlike the doctor before her. “Sometimes, that can cause the fetus to get over worked,” she tilts her head slightly, “and, in your case, unfortunately, the fetus was far too young to try and save.”

The words slowly start to settle into Amelia's already foggy brain. Her hand goes onto her stomach.

Sorry. So sorry. We’re so sorry.

“We did try our best, but there was only so little we could do.” The nurse says sympathetically.

“The baby,” Amelia's voice is quiet, “the baby… is gone?” She asks in utter disbelief.

“We are so terribly sorry for your loss, hun.”

And before another word can leave anyone else’s mouth, Amelia's shoulders start to tremble as she breaks down. Loud cries leave her room as she cries over the loss of her unborn child.

A nurse comes outside and informs the team of what happened. Some shed a tear, others conceal their feelings till they’re in private. But they all hear the cries from Amelias room. Loud and clear.

It’s all pent up feelings.

Grief, because even if the baby wasn’t in her arms, it was still inside her. She was still talking to the baby. Telling them about what a great father Spencer is. Talking to them about how wonderful a mother she will be also. How much she’s looking forward to them growing everyday. Telling them just how much they’re loved, even before they’ve entered the world.

Anger, because Spencer isn’t here with Amelia. He didn’t know she was pregnant, much less know she’s lost the baby. She knows it’s ridiculous to be angry, but she is upset. He should’ve been here. If he was here, she wouldn’t have lost the baby.

She knows it’s not his fault. He wanted a family just as much Amelia did. They’d been trying for years, and when they did finally succeed-

Amelia screams. Again, and again, and again.

Some words. Some just incoherent screams. Her voice is not nearly loud enough to express all the emotions she’s feeling. Her screams boom through the whole maternity ward. While some mothers are cradling their newborns, this mother is mourning the loss of hers.

JJ decides to stay back with Amelia, even if it does mean just waiting in the waiting room. Garcia and Derek team together to go back to the apartment to gather all their belongings to head back to the office. Hotch and Emily agree to head into question their newfound suspect.

Amelia is left alone in the room.

Missing her husband.

Missing her child.

Losing everyone she loves, one by one.

-

Tag team!

(Drop a comment if you also want to be tagged when the next part goes up!)

@twentysomethingloser92 @spencerreidsthings @mbowles23-blog @andiebeaword @dontshootmespence @notdisneychannel @wiitchxbiitch @manchildstagram @lagirl112

[eurovision-del]

I’m back home after watching Eurovision with a friend, and I want to get my thoughts down!! (This is going to be a long post)

Top 5

Italy: Wow! I thought they could do it, but seeing them actually pull it off and win the whole thing is incredible! I can barely describe how happy I was when they won, I definitely found the voting a lot more stressful when my fave had a real chance at winning, but the payoff when they were announced as winners was worth it all! I’ve been a fan of Måneskin for a few years now, so seeing a band I like go from there to competing in Sanremo, to making it to Eurovision, to winning the whole damn thing is undescribable! Zitte E Buoni is such a fantastic song, and it’s going to continue to be one of my all time favourite Eurovision songs for many years to come!

Italy’s third victory was a long time coming, they’ve been consistently great over the past decade, but I’m very glad it was this song that did it for them! I also like it when a winner shakes up the perception of what a winning song should be, like Portugal 2017. This is the first time since 2006 that both a group and a rock act have won Eurovision, and personally I’ll be very glad if this causes a resurgence in both over the next few years. It’s also notable for being a song not sung in English, but I’ve got more to say on that later.

I always think it’s best when the televote winner is the overall Eurovision winner, so I’m very glad to see Italy topping the televote, and they did it by a decent margin, just over 50 points!

France: A very deserved second place. Barbara performed wonderfully and brought the magic to the Eurovision stage, she should be so proud of what she achieved. She was just unlucky that there was a better song this year, in another year Voila could have easily won. I wouldn’t mind seeing her, or especially her co-writer, Igit, who I’ve liked since he did Destination Eurovision in 2018, make a return to Eurovision, either as singers or songwriters.

Switzerland: I liked Tout l’Univers well enough based on the song, then it grew on me even more in the second semi final, so I was very happy to see it do well! Like Barbara, Gjon gave a brilliant performance tonight, and should be very proud of his third place! It’s great to see Swizterland, a country that struggled so much throughout the 2010s, pull off two top 5 finishes in a row at the turn of the decade. I’m hoping for more good things from them in the future!

Iceland: It’s such a shame that Daði and Gagnamagnið missed out on the chance to perform live in Eurovision, but thank goodness they were able to get that second rehearsal performance done as well as they did! The song and performance are so heartwarming, they utterly deserved this result. I’m really excited to see where Daði goes from here, I’ve actually already got tickets to see him live next year!

Ukraine: Like Italy, Ukraine managed to achieve the same result in the actual contest as they did in my personal ranking! I was worried the song would be too divisive, but the performance was perfect and elevated the whole thing, and Kateryna’s vocal perforamnce was flawless. Very pleased to see them achieve second place in the televote!

I’ve watched Eurovision since 2014, and I can say with confidence that this is the first time since that year that I’ve had no complaints about the top 5. I’ve also gone back and watched every Eurovision ever, and I’m struggling to think of a year that I’ve been this happy with the top 10, every place from 1 to 9 I think is either well deserved or better than I was hoping for! It’s not until you get to Greece in 10th place that I reach a song I think is mildly overrated in the results.

Other Countries

Finland: I won’t do a full run down on Lithuania and Russia, two of my other  favourites, as I’ve said it all by saying I’m so happy with the top 10, but I want to give a special mention to Finland. For a second I was really worried when their televote result was so high, as I thought it might indicate the vote for the two  rock songs had been split. I’m so thankful to be proven wrong, and for these results to show that not only is there a place for all kinds of rock and metal music in Eurovision, but that they can exist alongside each other and do well. I also really want to congratulate Finland on achieving their second best result ever! While I like it when countries switch things up I won’t complain if Finland look at their previous results and decide that they’ve found their niche in rock and metal music.

The Netherlands: My biggest disappointment in terms of result. I wasn’t too surprised, based on the neutral to negative reaction of the fans at large and the odds, but I still don’t really understand it. This song deserved a lot more than 11 points! In my ideal Eurovision I’d say this should be the sort of song juries reward, they should have the time to look at lyrics and composition and cultural influence and reward songs as good as this one. But apparently it wasn’t to be. I really hope no one gets discouraged by this result, and I’d be very happy to see more artists representing their stories and their non-European cultures at Eurovision in the future.

United Kingdom: Look, I have to talk about my own country. I’m honestly more worried about the backlash the media here is going to have than I am disappointed in this result. But I am still a little disappointed. I don’t think this song was the worst in the final, sure, it was definitely in the bottom half, but I can think of serveral songs worse than this. And the nil points was totally undeserved. That marks our second nil points, the only other being Cry Baby in 2003, and this song is leagues better than that ever was, putting them in the same category feels like an insult. That said, I can’t complain too much. This year was very strong, and I’m not actually sure where the points would have come from. Embers is a nice song, but it’s not strong enough or interesting enough to be anyone’s favourite, maybe it should rank in the middle for everyone, but why would it rank in their top 10?

I’ve seen an idea that maybe the BBC should just give the competition to ITV for a few years, and while I don’t think that would solve our problems, we do need a shake up. The BGM deal seemed like a good move, but if it’s only going to continue to produce ‘nice’ songs rather than ‘impactful’ songs, it’s not going to help us on the scoreboard. I fully believe that there’s no reason the UK shouldn’t do well at Eurovision. In an ideal world, we’d organise a national finla filled with unique entries, not the drivel that our last national final contained - I don’t think our strength is actually going to be in our pop industry at Eurovision, I think it’ll be in our less mainstream stuff. I’d love for us to also try sending a song in Welsh, Gaelic, or even Scots, something that’s full of cultural identity and couldn’t come from anywhere else in the world. It might not be a winner, but I think a song like that would have a far better song of catching people’s attention and doing well at the contest than songs our current strategy produces ever would.

Other Thoughts

This year was a victory for the unique and artistic, there’s not a single song in the top 9 that could be classified as a straightforward pop song. I also want to note that the entire top 3 is non-English, Italian and two French entries. This is the only time that’s ever happened since the language rule was abolished, and since the last few years of that produced English podium placing songs, it’s the first year it’s happened since 1995. I really hope that sends the message out loud and clear that songs in native languages can and do succeed at Eurovision!

In 2019 I talked a bit about the Juries vs the Televote, and how I wasn’t too keen on the Jury results that year. This year, aside from overlooking The Netherlands, I’d say they did their job pretty well. The combined results seem very fair, better than both the Televote and the Jury results individually, and I think that shows the system is working at its best. I’m very glad to see Portugal score well, I thought the whole entry was brilliant and it deserved the boost the juries gave it. Likewise I thought Lithuania deserved a top 10 result and was glad the televote responded to it enough to put it there. The best countries, however, scored well in both, I was happy to have a year without a surprise jury favourite. Switzerland was definitely a fair jury winner.

Closing Thoughts 

Eurovision 2021 has been brilliant! We got a really strong set of songs, some fantastic performances, and a set of results I generally really agree with, completed by my ideal winner! Maybe when the buzz has died down I’ll reconsider, but right now I’m very confidently calling this my favourite of the contests that I’ve watched live - maybe my favourite contest ever? Either way, it’s been a good one, and I’m already eagerly anticipating next year!

[weil-weil-lautre]

By Jonathan Franzen September 8, 2019

“There is infinite hope,” Kafka tells us, “only not for us.” This is a fittingly mystical epigram from a writer whose characters strive for ostensibly reachable goals and, tragically or amusingly, never manage to get any closer to them. But it seems to me, in our rapidly darkening world, that the converse of Kafka’s quip is equally true: There is no hope, except for us.

I’m talking, of course, about climate change. The struggle to rein in global carbon emissions and keep the planet from melting down has the feel of Kafka’s fiction. The goal has been clear for thirty years, and despite earnest efforts we’ve made essentially no progress toward reaching it. Today, the scientific evidence verges on irrefutable. If you’re younger than sixty, you have a good chance of witnessing the radical destabilization of life on earth—massive crop failures, apocalyptic fires, imploding economies, epic flooding, hundreds of millions of refugees fleeing regions made uninhabitable by extreme heat or permanent drought. If you’re under thirty, you’re all but guaranteed to witness it.

If you care about the planet, and about the people and animals who live on it, there are two ways to think about this. You can keep on hoping that catastrophe is preventable, and feel ever more frustrated or enraged by the world’s inaction. Or you can accept that disaster is coming, and begin to rethink what it means to have hope.

Even at this late date, expressions of unrealistic hope continue to abound. Hardly a day seems to pass without my reading that it’s time to “roll up our sleeves” and “save the planet”; that the problem of climate change can be “solved” if we summon the collective will. Although this message was probably still true in 1988, when the science became fully clear, we’ve emitted as much atmospheric carbon in the past thirty years as we did in the previous two centuries of industrialization. The facts have changed, but somehow the message stays the same.

Psychologically, this denial makes sense. Despite the outrageous fact that I’ll soon be dead forever, I live in the present, not the future. Given a choice between an alarming abstraction (death) and the reassuring evidence of my senses (breakfast!), my mind prefers to focus on the latter. The planet, too, is still marvelously intact, still basically normal—seasons changing, another election year coming, new comedies on Netflix—and its impending collapse is even harder to wrap my mind around than death. Other kinds of apocalypse, whether religious or thermonuclear or asteroidal, at least have the binary neatness of dying: one moment the world is there, the next moment it’s gone forever. Climate apocalypse, by contrast, is messy. It will take the form of increasingly severe crises compounding chaotically until civilization begins to fray. Things will get very bad, but maybe not too soon, and maybe not for everyone. Maybe not for me.

Some of the denial, however, is more willful. The evil of the Republican Party’s position on climate science is well known, but denial is entrenched in progressive politics, too, or at least in its rhetoric. The Green New Deal, the blueprint for some of the most substantial proposals put forth on the issue, is still framed as our last chance to avert catastrophe and save the planet, by way of gargantuan renewable-energy projects. Many of the groups that support those proposals deploy the language of “stopping” climate change, or imply that there’s still time to prevent it. Unlike the political right, the left prides itself on listening to climate scientists, who do indeed allow that catastrophe is theoretically avertable. But not everyone seems to be listening carefully. The stress falls on the word theoretically.

Our atmosphere and oceans can absorb only so much heat before climate change, intensified by various feedback loops, spins completely out of control. Some scientists and policymakers fear that we’re in danger of passing this point of no return if the global mean temperature rises by more than two degrees Celsius (maybe more, but also maybe less). The I.P.C.C.—the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change—tells us that, to limit the rise to less than two degrees, we not only need to reverse the trend of the past three decades. We need to approach zero net emissions, globally, in the next three decades.

This is, to say the least, a tall order. It also assumes that you trust the I.P.C.C.’s calculations. New research, described last month in Scientific American, demonstrates that climate scientists, far from exaggerating the threat of climate change, have underestimated its pace and severity. To project the rise in the global mean temperature, scientists rely on complicated atmospheric modelling. They take a host of variables and run them through supercomputers to generate, say, ten thousand different simulations for the coming century, in order to make a “best” prediction of the rise in temperature. When a scientist predicts a rise of two degrees Celsius, she’s merely naming a number about which she’s very confident: the rise will be at least two degrees. The rise might, in fact, be far higher.

As a non-scientist, I do my own kind of modelling. I run various future scenarios through my brain, apply the constraints of human psychology and political reality, take note of the relentless rise in global energy consumption (thus far, the carbon savings provided by renewable energy have been more than offset by consumer demand), and count the scenarios in which collective action averts catastrophe. The scenarios, which I draw from the prescriptions of policymakers and activists, share certain necessary conditions.

The first condition is that every one of the world’s major polluting countries institute draconian conservation measures, shut down much of its energy and transportation infrastructure, and completely retool its economy. According to a recent paper in Nature, the carbon emissions from existing global infrastructure, if operated through its normal lifetime, will exceed our entire emissions “allowance”—the further gigatons of carbon that can be released without crossing the threshold of catastrophe. (This estimate does not include the thousands of new energy and transportation projects already planned or under construction.) To stay within that allowance, a top-down intervention needs to happen not only in every country but throughout every country. Making New York City a green utopia will not avail if Texans keep pumping oil and driving pickup trucks.

The actions taken by these countries must also be the right ones. Vast sums of government money must be spent without wasting it and without lining the wrong pockets. Here it’s useful to recall the Kafkaesque joke of the European Union’s biofuel mandate, which served to accelerate the deforestation of Indonesia for palm-oil plantations, and the American subsidy of ethanol fuel, which turned out to benefit no one but corn farmers.

Finally, overwhelming numbers of human beings, including millions of government-hating Americans, need to accept high taxes and severe curtailment of their familiar life styles without revolting. They must accept the reality of climate change and have faith in the extreme measures taken to combat it. They can’t dismiss news they dislike as fake. They have to set aside nationalism and class and racial resentments. They have to make sacrifices for distant threatened nations and distant future generations. They have to be permanently terrified by hotter summers and more frequent natural disasters, rather than just getting used to them. Every day, instead of thinking about breakfast, they have to think about death.

Call me a pessimist or call me a humanist, but I don’t see human nature fundamentally changing anytime soon. I can run ten thousand scenarios through my model, and in not one of them do I see the two-degree target being met.

To judge from recent opinion polls, which show that a majority of Americans (many of them Republican) are pessimistic about the planet’s future, and from the success of a book like David Wallace-Wells’s harrowing “The Uninhabitable Earth,” which was released this year, I’m not alone in having reached this conclusion. But there continues to be a reluctance to broadcast it. Some climate activists argue that if we publicly admit that the problem can’t be solved, it will discourage people from taking any ameliorative action at all. This seems to me not only a patronizing calculation but an ineffectual one, given how little progress we have to show for it to date. The activists who make it remind me of the religious leaders who fear that, without the promise of eternal salvation, people won’t bother to behave well. In my experience, nonbelievers are no less loving of their neighbors than believers. And so I wonder what might happen if, instead of denying reality, we told ourselves the truth.

First of all, even if we can no longer hope to be saved from two degrees of warming, there’s still a strong practical and ethical case for reducing carbon emissions. In the long run, it probably makes no difference how badly we overshoot two degrees; once the point of no return is passed, the world will become self-transforming. In the shorter term, however, half measures are better than no measures. Halfway cutting our emissions would make the immediate effects of warming somewhat less severe, and it would somewhat postpone the point of no return. The most terrifying thing about climate change is the speed at which it’s advancing, the almost monthly shattering of temperature records. If collective action resulted in just one fewer devastating hurricane, just a few extra years of relative stability, it would be a goal worth pursuing.