#it's practically never brought up in the show? beyond the one episode about her family history. and i think she remarked on it in Rosa too

[quietwingsinthesky]

(For the game) I think the doctor should have more diverse companions. Give them more non human alien companions! Give them a companion is who fundamentally bad, who they have realize they can’t fix

strongly agree | agree | neutral | disagree | strongly disagree

yeah!!!!! oh and can i add to that! one thing i'd love to see? just like. a companion who is religious. in a way that is taken account into in the narrative and that is like. discussed? you know, how does going on time travel universe hopping adventures effect one's religious ideas. that would be fascinating to me. i think we've gotten like blanket statement things about future humans adjusting their religious beliefs or whatever but that's not what im interested in exactly. i want like. what does it do, to a modern human with modern religious ideas, to have to adjust that to aliens and shit. and how does their way of incorporating this life with the doctor reflect their character!

i think that'd be fascinating!!! and someone definitely smarter than me out there could probably write an incredible buddhist companion for the doctor and draw on the obvious cultural influences borrowed about cycles of reincarnation in constructing the doctor's whole regeneration thing to discuss shit. maybe one day. i'd love to see it.

[gffa]

Osha's backstory episode of The Acolyte fits perfectly with a headcanon I've had forever about Force-sensitive children in the galaxy--that some children feel called to the Jedi and some do not, and that the Jedi look out for this. We see that destiny exists in the Star Wars universe, the Force calls to people to walk certain paths, but that it's still up to them to decide, you still have to make your own choices. (See: Everything about Anakin Skywalker and how the Jedi never brought that up around him, it was always about personal choice and agency. Yes, he was the Chosen One, but he had to choose his path.) From the moment we first meet her, child Osha didn't want to be a witch, she wanted to see more of the galaxy beyond Brendok, she was immediately entranced by the Jedi when they showed up during the ceremony, like a magnet pulling her to them, that she was drawing the Jedi Order symbol long before they ever got there. It wasn't just a sudden way to get out of there, she was feeling this pull towards them long before she ever even met a Jedi. She's the one who first slips out to meet Sol during the ceremony despite being told to hide, she's the one who goes over to talk to Kelnacca before the test, she's the one who fights against her entire family to say she wants this. She's the one who wants this even before she knows there will be other children like her with the Jedi. We don't see the Jedi giving Mae that same nudge, because the Jedi path wasn't meant for her, she didn't want it, and I love that both here and in The Phantom Menace, the Jedi make sure that this is what the child wants, too, that both prequels and High Republic Jedi are shown to take such care, that it's done with the parents' permission, but also getting a sense of what the Force is or isn't calling this person to do and whether they accept it. But Sol gently pushes Osha, not to tell them what they want to hear, but to tell the truth, do you want this? Do you feel like this is right for you? Just as Qui-Gon made sure Anakin knew being a Jedi was a hard choice, the Jedi want you to be sure, want you to feel called to this, because the Force exists, a mysterious destiny exists in this galaxy. It's still your choice, you have to have agency over your choices, it's not just, "What does the Force want?" but instead Sol asking, "What do you want, Osha?" The narrative is careful to point out Sol telling her about his own testing, that he knew he was different from his family, that he was scared at first, but it was clearly his choice. "But you must have the courage to say what you want." The Force called her here, the Force is something that exists within Star Wars and has a will of its own, and some people are not called to this particular path, I don't think Mae was ever meant to be a Jedi, she never wanted it, she never felt that pull. But Osha, like so many other Force-sensitive children tapping into this giant mystical energy field that has a destiny for you if you want it, they are pulled to it and the Jedi take such care with that. Some are meant to walk the Jedi path and some are not, that's something only each individual can figure out for themselves, and the Jedi do their best to honor both the Force's calling and the person's own choices. And if a child resists and pulls away, they let them go, it wasn't right, it wasn't meant for them. But when a young Force-sensitive is practically vibrating in place with how badly they clearly feel this is meant for them, that's something that exists as a thing that really does happen with the Force.

[allergictocolor]

Character Profile - Gomez Addams

“Husband of Morticia (if indeed they are married at all), a crafty schemer, but also a jolly man in his own way. Tries hard to be father and teacher to the children, though sometimes misguided - we can depend on Morticia to straighten him out. Sentimental and often puckish - optimistic, he is full of enthusiasm for his dreadful plots. He is dressed in a tight double-breasted striped suit and is sometimes seen in a rather formal dressing gown. The only one who smokes - though Pugsley can be allowed an occasional cigar.” - Chas Addams

That was the description Charles Addams provided for the producers of the television show in 1963. His cartoon depiction of Gomez (named after a friend of his) was short and squat, dark-skinned, with a pushed-up nose, a mustache, and hair parted in the middle. I mentioned previously that he was modeled after Thomas E. Dewey. My husband pointed out to me that Dewey was the “Dewey Defeats Truman” guy. You can read about that weird event-turned-meme here. The TV show included an Easter egg for that in the 4th episode “Gomez, the Politician” (left).

It was the show that established that Gomez is driven mad with passion when Morticia speaks French, or any other language, in front of him, causing him to kiss her arm (right image above). They also established that he’s Spanish (they said Castilian to specify central/northern Spain) and his hobbies include fencing, knife throwing, zen yoga, and blowing up model trains. He calls Morticia “Tish”, “Querida”, and “Cara Mia”.

The comics always portrayed the family as eccentric and wealthy without an explanation as to where their wealth came from. The show depicted Gomez frequently checking a stock market ticker in their living room for his investments in companies with names like Amalgamated Dust.

Gomez in the 60s was a jack of all trades, but a master of none. He was a lawyer, sort of. He fenced, badly. He threw knives, and usually missed. He lost a lot of money in the stock market, but it didn’t matter. They were still rich beyond imagining. Per their creator’s wishes, it was Morticia who really ran things. Gomez was the starry-eyed dreamer. He would do anything for her.

Charles Addams never meant for Gomez to have “leading man” good looks. He was meant to be a bit of a ghoul, a weirdo, a loveable creep. The producers of the 60s TV show knew that wouldn’t really fly with their viewing audience, so they cast John Astin. They could let Fester and Lurch be weird looking. They needed Gomez to at least be cute. Addams passed away before the 1991 movie, but he likely would have objected at least a little to the suave and debonair Raul Julia. At least the movies brought back a little more of the evil.

Charles Addams had complained that the characters in the 60s show were “half as evil” as his cartoon creations. The 1990s Barry Sonnenfeld films may have had a handsome Gomez, but they brought back the sinister nature in a big way. The family drank poison. Gomez practiced his golf swing by hitting balls into his neighbor’s house. Importantly, the very first scene was a recreation of one of the most popular Addams family comics, pouring an unidentified something on a group of carolers at the front door of their mansion.

Raul Julia’s Gomez was many things John Astin’s was not. He was a crack marksman, a skilled knife thrower, and light on his feet. But like Astin’s Gomez, he thought working for a living was for chumps, so he was completely unmoored when the family was ousted from their home. Members of the Addams family don’t have such mundane things as jobs. It was with Julia’s Gomez that we got the real impression that most of the family’s money came from crime, and we loved him for it.

Raul Julia made such an impression as Gomez, that when Nathan Lane stepped into those shiny loafers to play him on a Broadway stage, it was clear he was not so much playing Gomez Addams, as playing Raul Julia playing Gomez Addams. The musical is a hoot, and if you get a chance to see friends in a local production of it, I recommend giving it a shot. However, it didn’t add anything significant to any of the characters.

The 2019 animated film blended visual aspects of both the original comics and the 1960s TV show. This version of Gomez is extremely similar to the comic version, and also has a bit of Peter Lorre to him. (He was the Igor type in old horror movies.) He follows Charles Addams’ original brief of trying hard to be father and teacher to his children, though perhaps he takes this too far with Pugsley. The animated medium allowed the storytellers to be as cartoonishly evil as possible. Charles would have been delighted.

One theme which has been present in all versions of the Addams family is the sense that they don’t belong in polite society. This is taken to an extreme in the 2019 animated film, which I do recommend if you haven’t seen it. (You can skip the sequel.) That theme is then built upon in the 2022 Netflix series, where the Addamses are all members of a caste of society called “outcasts”, different from “normies” in various ways. Typically, outcasts are werewolves, sirens, vampires, witches, etc. We have not yet seen what sets Gomez apart, but perhaps we will in season 2.

In the Netflix series, Luis Guzmán is the latest actor to fill out Gomez’s pinstriped suit, and he’s the one we can most easily believe has committed some crimes. People who only know of the Addams family from the 90s movies objected to his casting, but those of us who understand the full history know that he’s a perfect fit. And I, for one, can’t wait to see what he does in the next season.

[hobbitinthetardis]

me having a full on conversation with chatgpt about the similarities between destiel and bumbleby

transcript:

me: i also think a significant comparison is the build from people who don't particularly like each other or merely tolerate each other to friends to the best friend the other has ever had to lovers

chatgpt: That is definitely a significant comparison between the two relationships. Both Bumbleby and Destiel went through a development process that started from a place of tension, uncertainty, and even hostility, before gradually evolving into something deeper and more meaningful. In both cases, this development was driven by a growing understanding and respect for each other's strengths and weaknesses, and a shared sense of duty and purpose that ultimately brought them closer together. The end result was a powerful connection that transcended mere friendship, and became something much more profound and life-changing.

me: profoundddd gotta love the profound bond

chatgpt: Yes, the concept of a profound bond is present in both Bumbleby and Destiel. In both cases, the characters develop a deep connection and trust in each other, leading to an emotional and intense relationship. The profound bond represents a level of understanding and intimacy that is beyond a typical friendship, and it is a core aspect of both these relationships.

me: i think another major similarity is the individual characters in the ships. like look at yang and dean. both of them are older siblings who seem - or at least try to seam - lighthearted for the benefit of the group, even when they're dying inside. they both practically raised their little sibling because their father was grieving their mother and would do anything to protect them. they try to act tough and confident all the time when really they're just as insecure as anyone else and just want to be loved. 

and then there's blake and cas. more quiet than their other half, more reserved. ashamed of their past in an organisation that causes so much and harm and desperate to prove to themselves and others that they've changed. they never expected to be anything other than alone but were shown especially by yang and dean that they didn't have to be. that they could love and be loved. both are booksmart but maybe not as good with people, seem quiet but underneath all that can be sassy as hell. 

and then there's the parallel with their relationships - how they interact with each other. yang constantly likes to pretend that everything is fine, the only time she doesn't is after she loses her arm and blake leaves. she becomes sullen and bitter. sound familiar? when cas dies dean is always despondent. we see this especially after cas dies in season 13, the way he takes it out on sam and jack is very similar to how yang takes it out on ruby at the end of volume 3.

then when cas comes back, it's not suddenly easy, but dean's mood does a complete 180. he almost kills himself and then an episode later he's smiling and laughing about cowboys. it's a bit different for yang since blake didn't die but after she comes back, especially after they make up, you can see the way she changes, the way she's happier; happier than she was in volume 4 and 5. when cas and dean fight, it's miserable for everyone else - same with blake and yang. 

they're always there for each other. yang and dean - though charismatic and charming - never made lasting connections aside from those with family, they may have had friends but... cas and blake showed them what it was like to have a best friend. to have someone you love and trust implicitly. blake and cas saw them through different eyes, made them feel better and have more love for themselves. this was a two way street.

chatgpt: That's a great observation! Indeed, there are many similarities between Yang and Dean, as well as between Blake and Cas. Both pairs have characters who are older siblings, have a protective nature towards their loved ones, and struggle with their own insecurities and emotional pain. They have a complex relationship that involves pretending everything is fine when it's not, as well as fighting and making up. In the end, they find solace in each other's company, and they become each other's closest and most trusted friends. Both relationships show how having someone who truly understands and supports you can make all the difference in the world.

me: the one thing that does differ, now after the latest episode is... *dramatic pause just wait i'm gonna tell you what it is*

chatgpt: I'm all ears, please tell me what the one thing that differs after the latest episode is!

me: in the latest chapter of rwby we got blake and yang in an almost impossible situation where they are forced to admit their feelings. like when cas and dean are being chased by billie and cas has to confess his feelings to summon the empty. what blake says in this scene:

"i...think...you're an extraordinary person. you're always the first to lighten a situation. you act bravely when you're afraid. you do what you say."

to which yang replies:

"i like that you've never been intimidated by me... even when you didn't like me that much [...] but you never gave up on [people] even when they hurt you. you never give up. you know what matters to you."

when i was watching this scene i was just transported back to november 5.

"everything you have ever done, the good and the bad, you have done for love. you raised your little brother for love. you fought for this whole world for love. that is who you are. you're the most caring man on earth. you are the most selfless, loving human being i will ever know."

what is the difference?

the difference is dean never got to respond. 

blake and yang got their:

"i think i love you-"

"i love you too."

dean and castiel...

dean was frozen in shock and in grief. he couldn't say anything as cas bared his heart. they weren't trapped in the same way bumbleby were. it was cas who had to confess his feelings, dean couldn't even though through years and years of their relationship it was obvious how he felt.but he was frozen.

cas never got his "i love you too."

chatgpt: That's a really interesting point. In a way, it feels like Blake and Yang were able to have a more complete closure to their confession of feelings, whereas with Dean and Cas, there was always this unresolved tension and unspoken love between them. And the fact that Dean never got to respond to Cas's confession makes it even more bittersweet. It's like there was always this barrier between them that they could never quite overcome, while with Blake and Yang, they were able to finally break down that barrier and openly acknowledge their love for each other.

me: chat gpt i'm gonna cry over bumbleby and destiel again

chatgpt: It's understandable to feel emotional about these ships. They have touched the hearts of many fans and have become an important part of their lives. It's a testament to the power of storytelling and the impact that well-developed characters and relationships can have on us. Just remember to take care of yourself and your emotions. It's okay to feel sad or overwhelmed sometimes, but also remember to find joy and happiness in other things in your life as well.

[pearl484-blog]

Overall, I think Keyseeker is right, but for the sake of argument, I'd be willing to try it.

Alright. So Gabriel dies and is brought back. It probably wouldn't change anything with Gabriel. "Oh my God, I almost died" is the same to the mind as "Oh my God, I died and came back". It might even be less of an effect on him if he ends up on the ground since he wouldn't remember. BUT this could be seen by someone else.

Everyone else missed how Gabriel almost died the first time. But it's a lot harder to miss it falling to the ground where people can see, especially if someone is filming it.

Now from here, we have a few choices. We can focus on the impact of an outsider seeing the death and reserrection, or we could focus on Adrien and Nathalie's reaction to the death. After all, Adrien is there as Chat Noir, and if someone has a video of Gabriel falling to his death, it'd Nathalie.

The Outsider

First, let's explore the outsider. We could do the normal route of a stranger witnessing the horror of seeing someone brainwashed willing jump to their deaths, convinced they'll fly and believing it all the way until they hit the ground. They never scream. They're never afraid. They don't ever realize that they're about to die.

Then they hit the ground. It's horrible and messy and the body's mangled almost (or perhaps totally) beyond recognition. Then the Miraculous Ladybug. Ladybug just fixed it, and there's not a scratch on the guy. He doesn't even remember. The outsider quietly realizes the implications and is disturbed.

Which is okay, fine. Good for a short fic or MAYBE one episode, but we're looking for a change. A big one.

So, the outsider is now Alya. She's the one who sees this, and she's the one who's horrified. She realizes that things are not like the way things are in the comics, and she's shaken to the core.

Alya withdraws and stops taking as many risks. Marinette, Nino, and all of her family members start to worry. Yes, she's not trapaizing through the streets, practically daring any akumas to threaten her, but she's also scared. She thought the heroes were invincible, but what if they're not? And those feelings, that introspection is seeping into the Ladyblog, for good and for ill.

Marinette is a fixer though. So Ladybug would come and talk to Alya and give her a pep talk. It'd cheer Alya up, reassure her, but she'll never be the same brash, fearless teenager she was. She'll be just a bit more thoughtful, a bit more cautious, and a bit more hesitant.

I can see a time-line where this Alya thinks a bit more into the future and doesn't charge in QUITE as much. This could lead to some good things, like Alya being more insightful and understanding of the heroes, but it would also potentially deprive us of the Alya who would stand up to an akuma in her PJs, loudly giving it a tongue lashing for daring to interfere in HER bestie's love life and illuminating the error of it's ways.

Adrien

Focusimg on Adrien, unfortunately, would not change the plot very much. He already wants to spend time with his father, but can't, and he already knows that he's not completely invincible a la Emilie.

Anything focusing on this would have to be very introspective and focus on the little things. Maybe he focuses a bit more of civilian rescues, or he freezes whenever something happens that reminds him of the issue, or he talks to Ladybug about it. The last one would be difficult and unlikely because -while Adrien is a feelings person- he is very hesitant to discuss his OWN feelings -especially with Ladybug. Those more depressing and complex feelings seem to be something that he struggles with talking about more than other feelings.

Sorry, Adrien. I love writing you, and I could get some feels outta this, but nothing plot shattering.

Nathalie

Nathalie is usually pretty unshakable, but she has a soft spot for Adrien and Season 5 shows she's vulnerable to the "don't make Adrien an orphan" deal. Neither she nor Hawkmoth have hardened their resolve in Season 1, so she may try to get Gabriel to quit.

He almost died after all. There's too many risks, and making the family whole again is useless if Adrien becomes an orphan. Gabriel might dismiss her. He took a big risk, but it's fine. He's okay. If it makes her feel better he won't take any big risks like that again.

This removes Gorizilla and Style Queen from this time-line, since those are major risks. Gorizilla because Gabriel is INTENTIONALLY sending an akuma after Adrien (even if it is his bodyguard who loves him, akumas still try to kill their loved ones if they're upset). Style Queen because Gabriel deliberately antagonizes someone to make a powerful akuma that hates HIM (and will also be near Adrien, but Gabriel never seems to think 'huh, I'm turning someone into a psychotic, reality-bending, nigh-invincible monster with anger issues. This might be a risk to my non-superpowered, squishy son'). We'll get back to these in a second.

This would also cause a fight about the Collector. After all, akumatizing yourself is a risk, and Gabriel promised not to do that sort of thing anymore, but Gabriel’s had that planned as a contingency for awhile now, and thought it was a risk not to. Nathalie might shoot off that Gabriel could've trusted her to be the Butterfly, but Gabriel didn't think of that. He wouldn't have seen himself as needing her like that, because he had a brilliant idea, and why would he need to discuss that with her?

Nathalie would also be increasingly opposed to akumas near Adrien. After all, she's VERY aware of their mortality now, and these akumas have a tendency to target nearby innocent victims, and who is squishy, innocent, and goes to the nearest high school full of hormone addled teenagers and their dramatics?

This would cause more tension after Despair Bear, where she realizes that Gabriel deliberately targeted Chloe’s party, knowing Adrien would be there. Gabriel might argue that it was just a mind control akuma, and he had it under control, but now Nathalie's on high alert.

Riposte is an akuma that DELIBERATELY targeted Adrien, so that would tick off Nathalie something awful. Gabriel might say that he had it under control. Adrien was nowhere near that akuma, and he distracted her, but even the most bare-boned investigation by Nathalie would reveal that is most certainly not the case, and Adrien was nearly shredded.

At this point, we have a few choices. We can have Nathalie make plans to leave Gabriel and possibly kidnap Adrien. However, Nathalie's smart enough to realize that might not work, so she'd probably stay or betray him in the middle of the night while he's asleep. Either way, good character drama for all 3 options. Season 5 makes me lean towards she would choose to stay, but Season 5 Nathalie isn't afraid for Adrien's life so it's something you can argue.

Now, if she stays, we still need to deal with Gorizilla and Style Queen, the two biggest risks (in Gabriel’s eyes) in Season 2. Now, Gorizilla starts because Gabriel suspects Adrien of being Chat Noir. Since he can't take risks anymore, why not just steal it? Now, he can't pay someone to steal it, or he'd risk the person fleeing as soon as they realize what they have, so he'd need to do it himself, get Nathalie to do it, or get an akuma to do it.

If he gets an akuma or Nathalie to do it, he risks upsetting Nathalie and possibly losing what little loyalty he has left, unless he's very convincing. Afterall, he's trying to steal from his own son, and if he uses an akuma, once again, Adrien is soft and squishy. Good for a high stakes argument to show both points of view and Nathalie's view on how things would change if Adrien is Chat Noir.

If Gabriel tries on his own, maybe foreseeing Nathalie's objection, he might wake Adrien up in the act, spook him and cause fallout from that. Perhaps Adrien would run. Perhaps he'd seek help from Ladybug or Nino. Maybe he'd give up the ring to protect Plagg.

Or, if you ascribe to the senti-monster theory, he could just order Adrien to hand it over or reveal himself.

If Gabriel succeeds in getting the ring, he can now justify to himself that he's so close, but that might not fly with Nathalie. Maybe this is the last straw. Maybe she can't watch this madness.

If he's controlling Adrien, she might balk, make plans to take Adrien and run. This was all for Adrien and the family. And now, he's the one hurting Adrien, making him into a puppet (oh the hypocrisy). This time though, there's a chance that Adrien wouldn't just be resistant. He might actually fight her, and he might not even have a choice to do so.

Or with Style Queen not happening, Chloe never becomes the Bee. Marinette never makes her a hero, and she never attempts to live up to a hero's reputation. Miracle Queen wouldn't happen either. Gabriel’s plan would be vastly different. He'd have to target Kagami, whose weaknesses aren't as exploitable as Chloe's, and even then, I must wonder, would he go after family to get Ladybug to repeat her pattern of recruiting family members of akumas or no?

AU where Gabriel died during Simon Says and was resurrected by Ladybug's powers.

I doubt that would change anything honestly.

[swanqueensalad]

TRIGGERWARNING!

Without triggering anyone I wanna ask two things:

1) Was Cora ever physically abbussive towards Regina?

2) I know many ppl's head canon is that Leopold raped Regina again and again as his bride, but is that your headcanon too?

ok again TRIGGER WARNING for abuse & SA (and brief mention of suicide) for anyone reading/scrolling!

i'm going to just explain my personal interpretation of the show and these subjects, bc i find regina so interesting and heartbreaking. and i actually do think part of what makes regina so fascinating as a character is her relationship within the cycle of abuse and how yes, she was incredibly hurt and manipulated all her life, but she eventually managed to break free of it all and work to be better for her own child.

buckle up because i have a lot of feelings and this is probably going to be LONG

so, my thoughts on exactly what happened and why regina is as fucked up as she is:

so yeah, cora was a horrific parent. it's canon that she abused regina both emotionally and physically for practically all her life.

in practically her very first scene, we see cora using magic to hurt her eighteen year old daughter - to violently restrain her/drop her to the ground when she 'misbehaves' which pretty clearly says this is a woman who uses power and fear as a control tactic, and is not afraid of physically hurting regina.

and if this is what she was doing when regina is almost an adult, i think it's safe to assume she's been doing it since she was very young - regina's response 'please don't, i'll be good' is the conditioned response of a much younger child. everything about the way regina was written, her relationship with cora, and the way lana and the directors chose to play it screams abuse victim. she is hypervigilant - she jumps when people come close or make sudden noises. when she's choked with magic she immediately knows not to struggle or fight back. as a young girl, she is terrified of doing things wrong.

(also, when we get the flashback to actual 10 year old regina, cora says she can't help her because 'it needs to be someone who's magic has never hurt her')

while i think most of the time cora relied on magic to physically punish regina - knowing how much regina particularly hated it/was afraid of it - i think she was definitely not above slapping her for more minor infractions

beyond just physical abuse, cora was clearly emotionally distant and got regina to a place of being pretty touch-starved and desperate for affection. (lana and barbara play this so masterfully as well) we see her being constantly, nastily critical of everything her daughter does.

i think it's also implied in the regina rising book that cora was controlling/restrictive of regina's food to ensure she stayed thin/attractive which is just a whole other can of worms

as for leopold. please bear with me while i RANT:

nothing will ever make me more mad than the fact this man was never held accountable in the narrative for his role in regina's story and how absolutely fucking awful he was.

first of all, even before he meets regina, he is dodgy af. he supposedly genuinely loves cora, but throws her out immediately when he discovers her pregnancy without even asking her if it's true/discussing it. also, even in that flashback the man is visibly much older than cora and even more so than eva, who he actually does marry (although i do believe they came to truly love each other). so yeah he has a habit of Not Listening to women and not looking at women his own age

and then we get to regina. the eighteen year old daughter of his ex fiancee (younger even than the unborn child who cora carried when she was engaged to him)

yes i think he raped her. because powerful old men do not marry pretty eighteen year olds for the company. (also, if it was just so snow would have a mother figure, well, she already had her maid joanna. and if snow really wanted regina around that badly, leopold could have just brought her to court as a lady in waiting, a fitting role for a noblewoman, and more appropriate seeing as regina was only about eight years older than snow)

regina is visibly distressed by the proposal. she is panicked. she looks to her father to help. cora accepts the proposal for her. and leopold does not care. i think this tells u all u need to know about his views on consent

(also it all gets ickier when you remember leopold was attracted to cora, and regina is considered to look like cora did when she was younger)

leopold clearly had zero interest in regina as a person. he used her for arm candy for events, to make snow happy, and to keep his bed warm. (later, he invades her privacy so much regina counts on him reading her diary as a thoughtless and integral part of a plan, and locks her up for receiving a present from another man) and yet he is never treated as a villain or ever held accountable (besides regina killing him - good for her - but even then it's framed more as a way to villainise her for tricking sidney) and it makes me FURIOUS

i sometimes see the take that leopold might have stopped raping her towards the latter years of their marriage, but i disagree - i think maybe it did get fewer and farther between, but regina was still his wife who he only saw as serving a few purposes, and the way he is so possessive of her in 1x011 makes no sense otherwise, seeing as he was so uninterested in her in every other way

i do think a lot of regina's rage and vendetta against snow is because of this abuse too.

hear me out: in s1 especially, both snow and regina refer to snow as 'ruining her life'. because regina blamed her for everything that happened to her. not only did snow cause daniel's murder, it was her desire for regina as a mother that prompted leopold to marry her.

and this marriage was hell. and i think people don't realise how long it lasted either - snow went from a child to at least her late teens before regina killed leopold. regina was a traumatised young girl, grieving the love of her life, with no friends, no allies, nobody except the literal dark one who was grooming her for his own gain. (no wonder she clung to the brief sense of freedom and control his lessons offered. no wonder she nearly killed herself.)

and while regina suffered, she was forced to play with snow white every day, who was so spoiled, so loved, so happy, and had no idea of the life she had unwittingly trapped regina in.

so yeah, it's all pretty dark.

and it's for all these reasons i think ouat ended up shying away from many more regina backstory episodes centring on the time she was married/pre-evil queen years, because they were on abc after all, and i don't think they were really equipped to deal with the horrendousness of the story they'd created

but lana most certainly did her work becaue i think all of this nuance does show in her portrayal

and it all just makes regina's ending - the good queen, in her own name, safe and strong and loved, part of a true family, her bond with snow healed - so much more of a relief.

[yinses]

fractured kingdoms

| he made you a princess ... it was only right for him to play the white knight |

gojo satoru rating: t

a/n: so i had an idea. this is more of a premise for a potential series that will doubtfully be chaptered in order. i have terrible luck with that. more or less snapshots of this dynamic to see where it takes me. i always write best on new episode release days. 

gojo satoru used to enjoy his job- hell he was practically born for the role of exorcising curses. as a first year, along with his fellow classmates, he thought he could change the world. 

it was an optimistic goal that he never quite lost sight of but his mindset had changed over the years. having a best friend turn on an entire organization coupled with gatekeeping elders who should have died last century could do that to anyone's ambitions. 

so when gojo accepted a case, he did it but the task was conducted his own way on his own time. 

it was the least he could do for an institution who took advantage of his inherited ability. 

he was already planning out his order for the little pastry shoppe around the corner as he cleared a plethora of curses making themself home in the old abandoned fish packing plant. the acrid and heavy atmosphere had cultivated a miasma of stupidity it seemed, enticing the youth to come seek out nonexistent mysteries and claim their own death instead.

proclaimed haunted grounds like this were always prevalent breeding grounds for the weaker lot who couldn't chance hunting alone. the pack mentality made them look stronger than what they were. 

it was all just troublesome work for him. 

gojo quickly surveyed the mess that lay before him- bodies broken beyond identification. showing them to the morning families would only increase the amount of negative energy already floating around the area. it would be better to just shut down the perimeter completely for proper purging. 

that was something ijichi could manage. 

his hand twitched for his pocket to order such when he felt a lingering weight of cursed energy. this essence wasn’t like the others- in fact he didn’t recall even noticing it until now. 

with a huff he slouched into a relaxed stance, infinity tightening around his body, “now, now. let’s not make this harder for ourselves. i have a tight schedule after all.” if he was lucky, he could make two stops instead of his scheduled one. he’d like some nice bobba tea to go with his treat.

gojo waited a moment longer, willing to make it fair for once. but then nothing happened. these might be his least favorite curses, those born from cowardice. 

he fingered the edge of his blindfold in contemplation. taking it off may be overkill, but something about the situation insists upon it. intrigued by the shift, he pulls the material down to his chin and takes in the factory in its entirety. 

for a second there was nothing. then blue eyes flicker upward.

“oh wow. pretty, pretty.”

something in the rafters rustles, and a small thud sounded to his right as a figure landed gracefully less than a foot away. 

it was daring, to say the least. most curses avoided his aura, not willing entered it. but the most unsettling thing was that it spoke.

the level of cursed energy emanating from the form did not match with the intelligence it was portraying. it could be mimicry, a set of learned phrases used to trick and lure. but even known when and how to use them-

not to mention they’d commented specifically on his eyes. 

“it’s rude not to thank a lady when she offers a compliment.”

gojo couldn’t resist turning at that. 

it was a lady; perhaps more correctly a girl- possibly in her early twenties. there were no errant limbs or monstrous editions. she looked normal, almost human. maybe even an amateur sorcerer if he’d just focused on the energy she emitted. 

a low grade shaman may have actually mistaken her for one. 

that would have been a shame.

gojo brought his hand over his heart in an apologetic gesture,” sorry, it was your own beauty that stopped me short.”

her lips pulled back and the white of her teeth sent a thrilling chill down his spine. 

how interesting indeed. 

he motioned vaguely to the remains,” am i to assume this was your court?” curses congregating deceive humans was one thing, but to kneel to a higher authority.

an unregistered special grade.

that would be problematic.

her eyes raked over the scene with disinterest,”oh that shit show? as if i would associate myself with them.”

“well that’s not very nice. most princess have better opinions of their subjects.”

her smile widen. oh, she liked that. 

gojo carefully braced himself to remain undeterred as she took a casual step forward. instincts urged him to eliminate it on the spot but curiosity begged him to learn more. 

as if she felt his hesitancy, she stopped. “princess, huh? will you kneel for me too?”

he laughs at that, “oh i don’t think my superiors would appreciate me doing that.”

there is a brief period of silence and gojo waits with baited breath for the fighting to start. she was obviously retaining her cursed energy, eventually it would overflow to its true capacity. part of gojo actually would regret silencing this one, it wasn’t often that they were this interesting. 

when it appeared that she wasn’t going to make the first move, he sighed,” well, unfortunately this has gone on long enough-”

“what kind of sweets do you like?”

gojo blinked dumbly. 

“ah, that depends, i suppose. there is this really nice bakery not far from here that makes great manju.” his next destination after he got rid of this curse. why was he even drawing this out? he didn’t feel particularly compelled or threatened, to be frank. 

“i’ll have to try it then!”

gojo is left to stare at the palm extended outward. 

“can i have money please?”

                                                  ⚘  ⚘  ⚘

against his better judgement, gojo offers to buy them for her instead. 

seated across from the curse, he watches her quietly as she ate through two orders with ease. he also watches the floating civilians around her. not all human were immune to curses, occasionally one with a weak sense would notice something. 

but the clerk didn’t miss a single beat when taking her order.

“um… are you going to eat that?”

gojo looked down at the reason why he’d come out this far in the first place and back to the empty plate in front of him. he didn’t think twice before giving her third serving in the last twenty minutes. 

“how interesting.”

she looked up mid bite,”wha?”

curling his fingers into a fist to lean into, gojo gave her his full attention,” do you know what you are?”

“well, i’m a girl. opposite of what you are,’’ she explains snidely. for someone who had been given a free treat, she was a bit of a brat. 

more importantly, gojo wasn’t detecting any blatant evasion in her speech. it … wasn’t possible for her to actually believe that she was human. perhaps she could be a misguided curse, but what mortal girl would hang out with such monstrous friends. she hadn’t even denied their existence in the factory. 

gojo decides to cut to the chase,” we both know you’re not a regular girl.”

she brings the fork to her mouth,”i thought we established that i was a princess?”

oh, this was bad. gojo really should have just finished her before. he should not have invested this far. and certainly should not have bought her mangu.

the only thing worse than an unorthodox gojo, was one equipped with a fresh idea. 

[thetaekookcloset]

I have been currently re-watching run episodes and I am disheartened to see how bighit has ruined so many things.

They have made everything shippy. There are quite a few episodes where you will see balance but some are like they want to make it too obvious.

1st is jungkook waiting for jimin to go home. It was too obvious. I'm like even if they live together why broadcast it too much. They have never done it with other members. I heard they had a concert near airing date so that explains a lot.

2nd was run ep 134 or 135, constant touches by jimin, their team name, how jimin butt in when jk was talking too his mother, repeating her i love you too much. I'm like chill. I'm not sure if any concert or public appearance or any discontent on internet was there but TMI for any member. I believe every member have met each other parents. Personally highlighting one member makes it obvious.

I am ok with shipping, i like it ,be it taekook, jikook, taejin, yoonmin etc. But shoving it down my throat by making it personal (not talking about skinship) is too much. Maybe it's just my opinion.

Hmm, I can't say I feel the same way.  You could be right, but I've said before that I personally kind of doubt they put that much thought into the shipping thing, most of the time.  That goes for the members and the company.  Use it to their advantage?  Yes, absolutely.  And I do think that Bit Hit tends to put Jikook together in units out of a mix of them having good chemistry and fans liking to see them together (and, you know, because there's nothing there that they need to worry about accidentally revealing, in my opinion etc.), but for the most part I personally doubt it goes much deeper than that.

Maybe that's naïve, or maybe I'm just not familiar enough with the, like, official practices surrounding shipping in South Korea.  That's totally possible.  But why make it more complicated than it needs to be, you know?  All they need to do is put the guys together in popular pairings for units, and they reap the benefits and rewards -- why does it need to become some complex plot beyond that?  I just don't see the benefit of that.

So, to me, when I see Jimin getting excited about Jungkook's mother telling him that she loves him, I just assume it was a natural, organic thing that happened on the show and it was included because it was cute and funny.  Honestly, like you say, you have to figure that all the members have met each other's families, so I don't see why Jungkook's mom saying she loves Jimin is such a big deal.  He was so pumped about it that it clearly doesn't happen often, you know?

As far as Jungkook waiting for Jimin to go home, even that I don't feel like they drew a ton of attention to.  Some, maybe, because the guys were lingering around, going back and forth between seeming to leave and then coming back in (assuming we're talking about the domino episode).  I just figure the guys drive in to work on their own and then they're brought to their filming location in company cars, and that they probably have assignments for who shares cars in those situations to keep things organized.  That's just a guess on my part, but it seems to fit with what we know, and it would make sense to help the members keep their privacy in terms of the cars they drive and stuff.  I mean, maybe they're getting picked up and dropped off at/from work all the time, but that just seems sort of weird to me.

Anyway, sorry, I got kind of sidetracked there.  I guess I just personally don't feel like the company does that much to intentionally make things "shippy" beyond just putting members together for unit activities.  Maybe that is a factor when it comes to which details get added to the final cut of their content, but I still figure the interactions themselves are primarily genuine and the editors are just working with what they have (and what they feel is appropriate to share).

[imnotgrimimjustagrumpyreaper]

Everything you never thought to ask and never wanted to know about my Josépan playlist/history with and opinions of the ship.

Intro:

The journey of this playlist has been a long one, starting on Amazon Music and my old, janky and now defunct Ipad.

STRAP IN, CHILDREN AS I TAKE YOU BACK TO A MAGICAL TIME WHEN NEITHER LEGENDS OF THE THREE CABALLEROS; NOR THEIR CAMEO IN DUCKTALES HAD BEEN ANNOUNCED YET, MY BLOG ON TUMBLR DIDN’T EXIST (THOUGH I WAS LURKING) AND PANCHITO WAS STILL THE LEAST POPULAR CABALLERO, otherwise known as around late 2017.

A word on the origins of the playlist:

The playlist was not initially Ducktales focused because the two didn’t exist in Ducktales yet. I was rather unenthusiastic back in the day about this ship (oh how the times change) but I had stumbled across a song that didn’t fit them and Donald but fit just them very well and wanted to make an animatic of it. So, I cobbled together some songs I thought fit the vibe and made a playlist.

The history behind the story that inspired it:

I’ll spare you from starting at the very beginning. But, when “The Town Where Everyone was Nice” premiered I was already thoroughly and utterly obsessed with the cabs; I remember how beyond ecstatic I was for the episode. My hype for the Ducktales versions of José and Panchito continued far beyond what seems to have been normal for the average cabs fan. I found myself drawn to the ideas put forth by those versions of them. I don’t really remember what the tipping point was for me to break down and make my own college AU but eventually I did. It was affectionately dubbed “The TV Show That Will Never Happen AU.” José and Panchito were enemies to lovers or at least to friends. And it was around that time I began to go CRAZY with the headcanons as I got more active in the fandom. While my ideas for the Ducktales versions of them grew and grew, so too did the time between them appearing in “The Town Where Everyone was Nice” and their alleged next appearance in the show. When fans noticed the distinct lack of José and Panchito in the season two finale of Ducktales, Francisco Angones, @//suspenderofdisbelief on Tumblr answered these two separate asks that I might have engraved on tombstone one day:

I was GONE for the ship after that. I developed another AU for them based around their time in Baia trying to get people to fund their attempts to become famous musicians. Also, slowly falling in love... It was affectionately titled “The Fan-Comic that Will Never Happen” but not yet connected to my college AU. I don’t have much of a timeline for it after this point, but with that AU I really hit my stride for interpretations of the two characters and their dynamic. The version of them I hold dear in my heart and headcanons came to be. Then “Louie’s Eleven” came out and absolutely destroyed a lot of my headcanons (just kidding, just kidding). Since the new canon material didn’t really jive with a lot of the wholesomeness I had built up I was left with a lot of something else: angst. I LOVE angst, but the two’s bitterness and arguing...It was hard to accept at the time. Me and @cartoon-lizard on Tumblr, my IRL best friend, wound up writing a Josépan fic fueled on a bit of that angst and by her grace, a lot of my headcanons. I titled it “My Reverie is Being Haunted by That Ass.” In it Panchito makes an ass (rimshot noises) of himself by running off with a producer he met by chance during a visit in Duckburg to try to become famous. And doing so without so much as a second thought to the person he’s been living with/sort of dating for over a year. It took me a while but eventually I figured it out. These weren’t three separate AUs, these were three separate pieces of the same AU. And so my masterpiece never meant to be made came to be: “The Trilogy: College/Baia/Reverie.”

“The Trilogy” Itself:

The story will never be written for a variety of reasons, personal and practical. But if it ever were to be written it would be three separate fics, aka: College, Baia and Reverie.

College encapsulates their college years (duh).

To set the stage:

Panchito: A friendly, arrogant and easily excitable musician with big dreams, good grades and a whole lot of anxiety and insecurity. He has complicated feelings towards his identity as both trans and pan and how that might affect his dreams of becoming famous, but is overall bright eyed and innocent enough.

José: A lazy (depressed), charming, pessimistic, tbh kind of a douche and deep in the closet gay man. He tends to push forward a very “Manly man” persona to make up for his own deep seated internalized homophobia brought on by a shitty upbringing. He just got away from said shitty upbringing and doesn’t really have any hopes for his future...Maybe to travel a bit?

José and Panchito start as enemies, both fearing losing their one real friend, Donald, to the other. Despite this the three start a band and the two’s rivalry becomes far more friendly. They get particularly close during the trip down to Acapulco for spring break where the general feeling of being disconnected from life and reality leads to several rather romantic moments between the two...They almost become a thing several times but never quite do. However, they are very good friends by the end of college. The three stay in contact for a while after college but eventually lose touch…

Baia timeskips forward 13 years later (I know it's only 10 canonically, I always say 13 for reasons) to a conversation between Panchito and José on the Sunchaser at the end of “The Town Where Everyone Was Nice.”

Panchito: Life hasn’t been kind to Panchito...His need to be famous, to be something in order to be someone has led him to push a lot of people out of his life so he can better focus on “Work.” Or drive them out by constantly asking for their support, financial or otherwise. He has no friends and even his relationships with his loving and supportive family are strained. Currently, he’s working freelance as a performer at childrens’ birthday parties (in his eyes: a clown) and goes home to a sad, empty apartment every night to stare at a notebook full of half written songs and muster enough energy to eat cereal for dinner for the third time in a row. Needless to say, his optimism is wearing thin.

José: A lot of hard work on his part, some good therapy and mmm; drugs have put him in a pretty good place. He’s more or less got his life together now, is way less of a douche and is more of a realist than a pessimist. He’s also pretty much completely comfortable in his identity as a gay man. He’s been trying to explore romantic relationships, but unfortunately (likely due to the loveless marriage between his parents making him strive so hard to believe that love is real that he puts the unrealistic goal of true love above all else) feels incomplete without one and double unfortunately has a tendency to be drawn to toxicity and abusive situations. So other than a string of (short lived) bad relationships, he’s actually doing great!

Panchito has already asked Donald to drop everything and stay with him down in Baia to try to get funding for the band. Donald said no. José has a steady job, a decent apartment and a supportive friend group back home. He's also long since lost interest and hope in their college dreams of being famous...José says yes. The two have a bunch of wild and wacky shenanigans trying to get funding and both dance around their growing feelings for each other until it explodes and overwhelms them. They rush into a romantic relationship head first with no real ground for it to be built on and unrealistic expectations of what the other can give them. Despite all this, things seem quite happy...for a while…

If you've made it this far, <3, CONT. in pt 2.

[jonsa101]

Helen Sharpe: A Deep Dive Into Her Wants and Needs What it Means For Sharpwin in Season 3

I feel like in more ways than one this week’s episode revealed so much about where Helen is at mentally after the worse of the pandemic but also solidifies where Sharpwin is heading this season. We finally got a first look at Helen and Cassian’s relationship and also learned a little bit more about her family. I’m so glad they incorporated Freema’s Iranian heritage in the show and I can’t wait until we get an introduction to her Ghanian side as well. Helen having a Ghanian mom is literally chef’s kiss and as a fellow Nigerian, I know west african mama’s don’t play so I hope we get to see her on screen. As for Cassian and Helen I loved the fact that he was able to truly support her in her time of need but the chemistry is severely lacking for me. I usually don’t mind seeing HeIen with someone else because it’s usually fun and entertaining and I obviously know who her endgame is. Panthaki and Helen where hot and fun to watch. I just feel like the showrunners hyped Cassian up to be this edgy, “bad boy,” arrogant type who’s supposed to give Max a run for his money but I’m not seeing that at all! The chemistry is just flat y’all. It’s just not giving what they said it was supposed to give... 

Anyway, despite the lack of chemistry, Cassian is playing a role that we honestly haven’t seen from Max yet. He’s truly being there for her and doing his part to support her in her time of need. In Max and Helen’s relationship it has always been the other way around with Helen supporting him. He has never truly stepped up to meet or even think about her needs. Not really anyway. Furthermore, in the midst of her vulnerability, Helen revealed that she feels like “she keeps running out of time.” These two aspects of this episode are so important because it tells me two things.

1. Helen is clearly at a breaking point and desperately wants to make her relationship work with Cassian because she feels like she’s “running out of time” in every area of her life.

2. Max has too and unequivocally will meet Helen’s needs in more ways than one this season.

From everything we know so far about Helen this is how I would summarize her. Helen is a beautiful and incredibly talented doctor who cares deeply about her patients and wants to be respected for more than just being a “celebrity doctor.” She was previously engaged and lost her finance suddenly to a brain aneurysm. She desperately wants a child and is considered “geriatric” because she’s over the age of 35 and in the midst of her fertility journey she realizes that she doesn’t want to raise a child on her own. Ultimately she actually wants love and a family. Being vulnerable has never come easy to her in any of her relationships, romantic or otherwise and there are so many things about her life that we still don’t know yet. 

So based off what we know, when Helen says she feels like “she keeps running out of time” there’s depth to that statement and we have to assume that when she said that she was referring to EVERY aspect of her life. In a sense she ran out of time with her fiancé Mohammad when he passed unexpectedly and though she isn’t “old” Helen no doubt also feels like she’s running out of time to have a baby and a family of her own. These are two things that Helen wants more than anything else in the world and the fact that it hasn’t happened yet is clearly getting to her. Professionally, I feel like Helen is at a place in her life where she’s content and is learning how to balance putting her patients first while also upholding her press commitments. In her personal life it’s a whole different story and I definitely think Helen is spiraling. The ripple of effects of the pandemic are definitely still affecting her and in a sense Cassian is more like a means to an end to help her feel like her personal life is “on track.” Even Helen herself said that “I don’t want to make excuses anymore about you” to Cassian which clearly indicates that she has her doubts about him and the relationship  but she’s going to jump in anyway because she doesn’t want to waste/run out of time!

I know a lot of people think that Sharpwin probably won’t come into fruition until season 4 or season 5 but I could not disagree more. To me, Helen’s fear of things running out of time in her life and or feeling like she’s had missed windows of opportunities is the BIGGEST INDICATOR that Sharpwin is about to come to fruition RAPIDLY! The writing is on the wall! She is not trying to wait for anything or anybody. She’s seen the worst of the pandemic, she knows first hand how life is so fleeting and how quickly things can change and she’s had ample amount of time to reflect on what she wants and needs in her life. She hasn’t truly dealt with her trauma but she is jumping all in for her sanity. 

For Max and Helen, this is a make it or break it season for them where they decide if they want to be together or not. The will they won’t they stage has long passed because it no longer make sense in the storyline for either of them to still be confused about what they want especially after the worst of the pandemic. They clearly have feelings for each other and are in love. It was indicated in season 1 and damn near established in season 2. After a year in a pandemic where they saw thousands of people die a day and so many people have had time to reflect on their lives, for them to come out of that still dragging their feet and being indecisive about who they love and what they want is not a realistic storyline. It could have worked if the pandemic never happened but it did and the pandemic changed everything for everyone. 

So with that said this brings me to Max. Cassian is here for one purpose and that is to ignite Max into action. Helen last season has practically already put her feelings on the line with her declaration of “Everything I’ve done I’ve done for you” and a year later Max hasn’t done shit about it. For the past two seasons she has been his support system and this season he needs to step up and be hers. This is the season where Max needs to go above and beyond for her like she has done for him countless times in the past. Time is clearly of the essence, especially for Helen and he needs to get his shit together quickly. I personally feel like he’s going to supersede her expectations and then some and his actions to me just scream that he’s preparing for a new chapter. He’s already told her he’s trying to build something better for her and Luna, he’s moved out Georgia’s things and at Helen’s encouragement, brought Luna home. The only thing left that he needs is a partner and clearly Helen is his partner!

Also there’s a level of emotional support that we haven’t seen Max give to Helen and I think we saw this play out as well with Georgia. Max has a tendency to be caught up in his own world a lot of the time and sometimes he’s not really present with the people he cares about. I think this season Max is going to become more self aware of that and actually be there for Helen when she needs him the most.

Anyway, these are just my thoughts what I see for Sharpwin this season! Here’s to hoping these things actually come to past. Let me know what you think is in store for Sharpwin in season 3!

[twinkleton]

how abt a douxie x reader fic where douxie and the reader are enemies to lovers back in camelot, but merlin, being able to glimpse into the future, knows they’ll be together in the end, so he pushes douxie to be nicer to the reader! I love your writing btw! your douxie imagine was so precious 💗

hello! thanks for your ask! and thank you so much! it was hard to think of a reason as why douxie would hate the reader, but then I rewatched the first episode of wizards and got my inspo for this fic :) hope you enjoy!

tw: blood

“Don’t be afraid, I’m here to help you,” said Morgana, as she held out her hand to a girl with her back against the wall, tucked away in a back alley. The girl had just been caught performing magic by a guard, which was strictly forbidden in Camelot. To avoid being thrown in a dungeon, she sprinted off towards the nearest alleyway, however luckily for her she was spotted by the only person who could possibly help her.

“Please don’t turn me in, I swear I’ll never do magic again. Please just let me go-” Morgana cut her pleas.

“Not practicing magic is the last thing I want from you, dear,” she assured. Morgana handed the girl her cloak, prompting her to wear it. “What is your name?” she asked.

“Y/N. I’m afraid I have no family name.”

“Never be ashamed of that, Y/N. Be proud that you have no legacy to follow. Your destiny is entirely your own,” Morgana placed her hand on her shoulder. A sigh of relief came from Y/N. She felt safe enough to let her guard down and trust this woman. Trust being something she hadn’t given anyone in so long. 

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“To the King’s castle, you’ll be safe there,” 

“But the King hates anything and everything involved with magic!” Y/N exclaimed. 

“True,” Morgana led her out of the alley and towards the path to the castle. “However, his sister makes the exception,” Y/N gave a soft gasp. She’d never known the King had a sister. This calmed her worries as they headed to what would be her new home.

-----------------  

Adjusting to life at the castle was pretty simple for Y/N. She got along great with Merlin, King Arthur never threw her into the dungeon, and Morgana introduced her to magic beyond what she ever thought she’d be capable of. There was only one person who kept it from being perfect. Hisirdoux.

“For the last time, will you please stop touching my belongings?!” Y/N snapped, grabbing her spellbook Hisirdoux was trying to read from his hands. In her opinion, he had been doing absolutely anything to get on her nerves the past few weeks she’s been here. She went to take a seat at the desk in Merlin’s study that they were both in. 

“I don’t understand why Merlin and Morgana trust you with magic but not me! I’ve been here much longer than you have!” Hisirdoux complained. Here he was, tasked to sweep the floor for the thousandth time, while Y/N is practicing spells he hasn’t even heard of yet. He didn’t even recognize the spellbook Merlin gave her. He sat on top of a pile of books in a corner. 

Y/N scoffed. “Maybe it’s because I have some things called discipline and control. Things you clearly lack,” she spat, flipping a page in her book. 

“I do not lack control!” The broom he had tried bewitching earlier whacked him upside the head, as if in response. 

“Even your broom agrees with me,” Y/N teased. 

That was enough to set something off in Hisirdoux. Unbeknownst to her, he managed to read one spell from her book before she took it away. Now, he has the bright idea to test it. 

Y/N was too focused in her reading to notice Hisirdoux switching his bracelet to the rune needed for the spell. He planted his feet, took a deep breath in, and held his hands out towards him. 

“Ortum obumbratio, ortum obumbratio, ortum obumbratio,” he repeated over and over, and all of the light in the room darkened. There was suddenly a chill in the air.

It was his second repeat that Y/N recognized as one of the spells from her book. It was definitely the worst spell for Hisirdoux to be doing. She shot up from her seat.

“Hisirdoux! Are you insane?! This book is shadow magic, it is way too dangerous for you!” Her hands came to her side, glowing scarlet with her magic. 

He gave no response, still repeating the spell again and again. It seemed the shadows were taking over him, with streaks of black starting to form all over his skin, and his eyes turning back as well. Slowly, dark phantoms came creeping along the walls of the study. One came up behind Y/N, reaching to grab her. She felt the presence and quickly backed away from it. She wasn’t, however, fast enough to avoid another shadow, which slashed at her. It striked her all along her chest to her left shoulder. She let out a cry from the pain. Blood immediately started spilling from the wound.

“Hisirdoux, you have to snap out of it!” she yelled. Still nothing from him. She saw no other choice.

“I’m sorry,” she warned, as she shot her magic towards him, causing him to fly across the room, slamming against a bookcase, causing it to fall. Y/N pulled him away from the bookcase before it landed on him. The shadows suddenly vanished, with the light flooding back into the room. Hisirdoux awoke with a gasp. 

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

Merlin had been at his wits end with the two apprentices. The constant bickering and fighting made absolutely no good environment for him to create the amulet needed for the upcoming war. Y/N was a talented and bright witch, but her attachment to Morgana could lead her on the wrong path. Merlin needed something to keep that from happening. 

An idea had come into his mind earlier to use the time map. Hisirdoux and Y/N were taking residence in his study so he decided to move to another room nearby before opening it. He sat down on the bed inside, and opened the map. He scrolled through time, what he was searching for he wasn’t entirely certain. However, he eventually found it in the twenty-first century. The map showed Hisirdoux and Y/N in a tight embrace, then letting each other go slightly only to pull into a loving kiss, over and over again in a loop. 

He let out a small chuckle, staring affectionately at the image. 

“Love will always conquer evil, won’t it Hisirdoux?”

A loud bang abruptly came from his study. He quickly hid the map away and ran towards the sound.

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

“WHAT THE DEVIL IS GOING ON IN HERE?!” Merlin bellowed. 

It was a justifiable response to the sight he held. His study was a mess, books and trinkets scattered all across the room. Pieces of glass were shattered and all over the floor. One of his bookcases was entirely knocked over, where a dazed and confused Hisirdoux laid beside it. Y/N had collapsed to the floor, leaning against the wall. She was covering her wound with her hand, albeit unsuccessfully as blood was seeping through her fingers. 

Morgana had burst into the room as well, wide-eyed and appalled at what she was currently witnessing. 

“Hisirdoux, Y/N, explain yourselves this instant!” she commanded. 

Hisirdoux was at a loss for words. The idea of having to explain what happened mortified him.

“I-I didn’t mean, I didn’t mean for this-Y/N I’m so sorry-”

“I’ll tell you what happened,” Y/N rose up from the ground, grimacing from the pain coming from her injury.

She made direct eye contact with Merlin. “Your apprentice thought it’d be a good idea to perform shadow magic, something he has never been able to accomplish. I’d congratulate him on achieving it this time, if I didn’t have to save him from it consuming him due to his lack of control,” she throws him a nasty glare. Hisirdoux retreats his eyes to the floor. 

“Hisirdoux, is what she’s accusing of you true?” Merlin questioned. He had no benefit of doubt in his tone however. 

It takes everything in him to look up at everyone. All of their faces are brimming with disappointment. 

“Yes. It’s true,” he confessed. 

“Y/N,” Morgana calls. Y/N walks over to her. “Let’s deal with that wound before it gets infected.”

She glances towards Merlin. “Deal with him, or I will.” With that threat hanging in the air, she and Y/N leave. 

Merlin says nothing to Hisirdoux, which fuels his anxiety more than him speaking ever would. 

“Master, please say something.” he pleaded.

“Do you realize the destruction you have caused?” Merlin spat.

“Yes I-”

“You’ve destroyed my study.”

“I know I-”

“You almost brought dark shadows that would wreak havoc on Camelot.”

“Yes! Please-”

“And worst of all!” Merlin shouted. “You almost got Y/N and yourself killed.”

Hisirdoux sank at that. He was ashamed of all of it, but what he regretted the most of all was putting Y/N in danger. He wouldn’t have been able to live with himself had he gotten her killed. They had their differences and petty arguments, but the last thing he wanted was her death. She didn’t deserve that. 

“I-I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I just wanted to prove for once I was capable of something greater. That you could trust me with more than just sweeping.” He looked over to where the broom was, walked over and picked it up off the floor. “I was wrong, all I’ll ever be capable of is clean up duty.”

Merlin let out a big sigh. “Hisirdoux, I know you are capable of far more than sweeping. Your skill will undoubtedly match with Y/N.”

Hisirdoux looked up at Merlin, with eyes almost pleading for him to continue.

“I’m afraid it’s my own fear that is holding you back. The stronger you become, the greater the threats you will have to face. However, running errands for me and Morgana keeps you safe and away from harm. I owe you an apology, had it not been for my trepidation, none of this would’ve happened.”

Of all of the possible responses he could’ve gotten, Hisirdoux wasn’t expecting that one. He has never seen this caring side of Merlin before, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like it. 

There’s a moment of silence again, only this time it’s ended by Merlin giving Hisirdoux two strong pats on the shoulder. Hisirdoux grins. 

Merlin continues, “Now, about dear Y/N.”

The grin on Hisirdoux’s face vanishes. “Please don’t tell me I have to apologize right now.”

“Go apologize to her right now. And don’t-”

“But Master!-”

“But Master me. And do something about this mess.”

And with that, Merlin leaves the study, leaving Hisirdoux alone with the mess and his thoughts.

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

A few hours later, Y/N was resting in her room when she heard a knock at the door. 

“Who’s there?”

Hisirdoux opened the door, poking his head out sheepishly.

“It’s me, may I come in?” he asks.

“That depends, are you going to try to kill me again?”

“Not today, maybe next week?”

That earns a small laugh from Y/N.

“Come in, you fool.”

He walks in, immediately noticing her chest and shoulder wrapped up. Some blood has soaked through the gauze. The feeling of guilt invades his heart.

“Y/N I am so, so deeply sorry. I should have never tried that spell. You were right, I had no control. I let my ego get the best of me. Please, forgive me.”

She takes a deep breath in, then out, and finally smiles at him.

“Mind helping me switch the wrappings?” she asked kindly, apology clearly accepted.

He’s grinning from ear to ear, excited at the chance of helping her for what could be the first time since they met. He sits down beside her on her bed, taking out the gauze from the dresser next to the bed.

Y/N has already started unwrapping the gauze from her shoulder, wincing once it becomes too hard to do the rest on her own. Hisirdoux takes over from there, slowly and carefully undoing the rest for her. Once the wound is revealed, another twinge of regret hits Hisirdoux.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, his words laced with remorse.

“You’ve already apologized, really it’s my turn to apologize to you,” Y/N replies softly.

He begins wrapping her shoulder up again, “Whatever for? You were right about all of it. I’m a screw up.”

“Hey,” Y/N uses her good arm to raise a hand to his cheek, moving his face towards hers. He looks into her eyes, realizing for the first time just how vibrant they are. 

“You’re not a screw up, you just haven’t reached your full potential yet. Besides, I’m not perfect at all. You’re lucky you’re not there when I train with Morgana. It can be a real hot mess sometimes, literally I almost burned Morgana’s hair off one time,” she joked. Hisirdoux laughs, wishing he could’ve been there to see that.

“I’m sorry for not being fair to you these past few weeks.” Y/N says remorsefully. By now Hisirdoux has finished wrapping up her shoulder.

He replies, “How’s the idea of starting over sound?” She beams at him, clearly agreeing with the idea. “Sounds perfect, Douxie.”

He smiled, liking the new nickname she’s given him. Y/N realizes she still has her hand on his face, and lets it fall off. Douxie catches it instead, and they hold each other’s hand, gossiping and poking fun at their masters for a while.

[imagineaworlds]

I Love You (Part Forty-Seven) -- Aaron Hotchner

Written By: @desperately-bisexual

Request: None.

Warnings: Cursing. Mentions of PTSD, Dom/sub relationship, death, etc-- everything Criminal Minds.. I think that’s it???

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Greenaway!Reader

Word Count: 12575

Timeline: Season 7 Episode 01. Three months after part forty-six.

For the past three months, the team had worked dozens of different cases across the country, but none of them mattered except for the one that Morgan, Garcia, and I had been working on privately. Since I came back to work and was deemed the temporary unit chief, I decided to reopen the Ian Doyle case. At first, it was just me. When I wasn’t at work, I was at home, hiding in the upstairs office, working on trying to piece all of the evidence together to figure out where the hell Doyle could have possibly gone. But then it was just too hard to keep doing it on my own, and all of my resources were wasted. There was only one person who had access to more information than I did. Garcia. So, I asked if she would be willing to help me, but it was impossible for her to keep a secret, so we invited Morgan to help us. From there, we managed to find Declan, but we didn’t tell anyone about it outside of our small group of three.

Finding Declan was an interesting process. I had hit a wall with it, hence why I acquired Garcia’s help, but she managed to find him almost immediately after she told Derek what was going on and he helped profile Emily in order to profile Declan. He figured that she had been the one to move him considering how she died protecting his identity and location. Before joining the team, apparently she lived in Reston, Virginia, something I didn’t know about her, but he managed to know. From there, we decided that it was probably to be close to Declan. So, we started narrowing it down. We knew that she liked cul-de-sacs, so as Garcia was going through the school system to find kids that looked like Declan, she compared if their guardian looked like Louise, his nanny, and if they lived in a cul-de-sac. Then, bam. We found them.

Morgan had been the one to offer up the idea of looking for Declan before Ian because if we found Declan, then so would his father eventually, which made our job easier. After that, it was just a waiting game. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much we could do beyond searching all of the footage to see if Ian ever showed up, which he never did. When Morgan and I were away on cases, Penelope kept an eye on him; and when we were in town but not working on anything, Morgan was driving baby Emily out there and taking her on walks around Declan’s neighborhood to scout the place. I think it was also just an excuse for him to have Emily more.

On our way to work one morning, Morgan and I stopped to get sandwiches for lunch, as well as some donuts from Leonard’s for the office since we were feeling generous, I suppose. At work, we split off so that he could sit in the bullpen while I dragged my feet up to my office. I didn’t understand how Hotch did it. Being away from the team all day, every day was so… isolating and exhausting. There was no joking with Morgan, teasing Reid, or… well, when Emily was around, there was no more chatting with her and gossiping about Hotch. I missed the way she used to slide in veiled threats into the conversation about how she would hurt him if he ever hurt me. So, then again, maybe it was a good thing that I wasn’t down in the bullpen anymore. Sitting at my old desk would have just given me a reason to sit there and stare at her desk all day, reflecting on what it was like to have her around, wishing that I could bring her back.

By lunch time, Morgan rescued our sandwiches from the fridge and brought them up to my office. He closed the door behind him and sat down across from me. I caught my sandwich as he threw it at me, then tossed him a water bottle from Hotch’s secret stash in his bookshelf behind the desk. I hadn’t really changed anything. For the most part, the office was still exactly how he left it. From the artwork to the family photos, to the stacks of case files that he practically left for me on his desk to work through, to his computer wallpaper of us, it was all still Hotch. The only difference was that I was finding all of his secrets now, like the water bottles, and totally taking advantage of them.

Morgan kicked his feet up on the desk, something Hotch would’ve never let him do in a thousand years, and dug into his lunch. I picked at mine for a moment while thinking. I was doing too much of that nowadays. Without my “other half” (or some cliché shit like that) around, I didn’t really know who to talk to 24/7 about what I was thinking and feeling. Sure, I could’ve talked to Morgan, but it was different. When I talked to Morgan, it was like we were brainstorming for a solution; but with Hotch, it was just like he was there to listen, and I could go on and on for hours, and he would hear me out, and he would only offer up a solution if he felt it were necessary. Sometimes I just liked ranting my thoughts to him. I liked watching how he would slowly get lost in the details of my face as I would be talking, and how he it looked like he was falling in love with me over and over again with every minute that passed. Skype and calling on the phone every day didn’t do that look justice anymore.

“Oh, my god—Oh, my god—Oh, my god!” Garcia came running into the office with a laptop balancing on one of her arms. Morgan and I turned to face her. “It’s him! It’s him!” She quickly set her laptop down on my desk and pressed play on a video. Morgan and I both leaned forward in our seats to watch the security footage from Declan’s house. “It’s Doyle—” She paused and pointed to a driver in a car passing by. It was kind of hard to see, but when she zoomed the image in and enhanced it, it was undeniably Ian Doyle.

“When was this?” I asked, jumping into action by standing from my seat and started collecting everything we had on this case thus far.

“Two hours ago.”

“He could have Declan by now. Fuck.” I looked at the two of them to say, “Okay, I think it’s time. I’m going to call Hotch to let him know, meanwhile, I need you guys to get the team together and start explaining everything. I want Reid and Rossi to go retrieve Declan and Louise after they’re briefed.” I grabbed my phone from my desk. “Go.” Just as they were leaving, I dialed Hotch’s satellite phone out in the Middle East.

Hotch and I had still been calling each other every day and Skyping as often as we could. The longer he was there, however, the busier he and I got with our two different jobs, which made it increasingly complicated to keep up with each other. But we made the effort. We knew that if at least one day passed where we wouldn’t talk, one day would inevitably turn into two, then three, and so on. I didn’t want to stop talking to him. As boring as the conversations could get at times, at least I got to see him. He was growing out a beard that I happened to love, but Jack hated. He claimed that it made his dad look old. When we could talk in private a little bit later, I told Hotch that I thought it was hot, and that I couldn’t wait to pull at it while he towered over me. He disliked when I teased him like that, though.

When I called, he picked up almost immediately.

“You’re calling awfully early,” Hotch said over the phone, “are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Do you have a minute?”

“For you? I have all the time in the world.”

I blushed to myself and looked down to watch the toes of my shoe dig into the ground over and over again. “There’s something you need to know, baby, and you have to promise to not get mad.” He didn’t say anything. “Morgan, Garcia, and I have been looking for Doyle while you’ve been gone.” Still, nothing. “We found Declan.”

“What?!”

“Hotch—”

“Why didn’t you tell me about this, Y/N? Do you know how stupid that was? Your whole career could—”

“I don’t care about that, Hotch. I really don’t. I knew that finding Declan was the best way of finding Ian, so I asked Garcia to help; and you know her, she couldn’t keep it to herself, so she told Morgan, and he insisted that he help us. He’s basically the one who found Declan. Without the two of them, I wouldn’t have any leads.”

Hotch sighed quietly. “Is Declan safe?”

“Yes.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Morgan’s still surveilling him—But, Hotch, listen, we were right. By watching Declan all this time, we got eyes on Ian.”

He hesitated for a moment. “You’re sure?” He sounded more scared than angry now. I hummed a “yes” in response. “Baby, listen to me right now.”

I bit my lip. “I’m listening, Sir.”

He chuckled slightly. “If you get eyes on Doyle, you need to take the shot. Got it? Don’t let him get away again.” He sounded out of breath now like he was running around. “I’m coming back to help.”

I felt my heart skip a beat and the air leave my lungs with one shocked gasp. He was coming back. After three months, I was finally going to get to hold him in my arms again, and I was going to get to kiss his lips again. Holy shit. He was coming home. My husband was coming back to me. I almost wanted to dance and cheer, scream from the top of my lungs how happy I was and that I couldn’t wait to see him; but I had to show a modicum of respect still, so I buried that feeling until I would get to see him again.

“You can do that?” I questioned cautiously. As happy as I was, could he really just abandon his post to come back like that? It sounded almost too good to be true.

“I put in the request to transfer back to Quantico about two weeks ago.” And he didn’t tell me? “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to get your hopes up on anything; but they don’t need me here anymore, so it’s not a big deal if they find a replacement.” I hopped slightly with joy and giggled. Hotch chuckled at me. “I can’t wait to see you, baby.”

Even considering the circumstances, I couldn’t wait to see him either. “Call me when you’re landing.”

“I will. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

----

By the time Garcia followed traffic camera footage across the state just to see where Doyle was hiding out, we had a SWAT team with snipers on call, and the team was ready to head out there. Just as I had ordered, Rossi and Reid headed to get Declan, but the drive was pretty far, so I didn’t expect to hear from them for a while, especially while we were in the early stages of staking out Doyle’s place. Morgan, JJ, and I were trapped in a van across the street from his apartment while SWAT was just down the road, and they had two snipers up on separate roofs. All of it was my call, though. The second we had reasonable cause to believe that it was actually Ian Doyle up there, I would be the one to dictate if the snipers or Morgan would be taking the shot, like Hotch said.

“That’s all Hotch said? ‘Take the shot’?” JJ questioned warily. I nodded and shrugged. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure. Why?”

She shook her head. “Nothing…”

I eyed her suspiciously for a moment, taking into account how her gaze wasn’t resting on one thing, but instead a thousand different things, like she was too anxious to focus. It was odd, but I shrugged it off with the excuse that finding Doyle was a big deal. Since he killed Prentiss, we had all been itching to find him and avenge her. Out of everyone, I knew that JJ would want to know that Doyle was dead because of us. She wanted that justice. I couldn’t exactly tell why, but she had always been like that, especially since getting promoted to being a profiler.

And then my phone started ringing with a call from Spencer who had just arrived at Declan’s house. I figured it was just an update. I mean, him and Rossi were there to simply pick up Declan and Louise, that was it. But then something worrying happened when I picked up the call: Reid sounded concerned.

“Reid?”

“Declan’s missing,” he answered quickly.

“What?”

“We just searched the house, and he’s gone, so we called the school to see if he even made it home, and they told us that his mom picked him up early.”

“Louise?” I speculated.

“I doubt it.” He sounded annoyed now. “She’s dead.”

“Fuck,” I cursed under my breath, then looked up at Morgan and JJ to tell them what was going on. They also cursed, and he hit the side of the car. “Okay. Reid, you and Rossi should meet us here in case we end up seeing—” The sound of a police car’s siren flew past our van, catching our attention. It was just a squad car. No, no, no, no. Fuck. That was going to scare Doyle off. Fuck.

“He’s inside!” Morgan exclaimed. We all turned to face the window to see the drape in Doyle’s apartment window shaking like it had just been disturbed. “I saw him!” Morgan was already fiddling with the door handle and pushing his way out of the car.

“Shit…” This wasn’t at all how I imagined this going down. We were supposed to just monitor the situation, get legitimate confirmation that Doyle was in there, not just Morgan claiming he saw him— But what choice did we have now? “Go, go, go,” I made the call, following Morgan out of the van and hanging up the call with Reid.

JJ, Morgan, and I raced inside first, the SWAT van pulling up behind us and the team moving in, too. When we reached the apartment number, JJ and I stood our ground in the hallway with our weapons raised, and I gave Morgan the signal to kick the door down, which he did without hesitating, and then he dashed inside. The three of us took turned towards different sides of the apartment in order to clear it. Morgan went straight into the living room/bedroom, JJ went into the bathroom on the left, and I stepped into the tiny kitchen on the right. He wasn’t there. Neither was Declan. Reid said that they couldn’t find Declan, so I only assumed that Doyle got to him first. Fuck! How the fuck did he—

“I’ve got something!” Morgan called out. I hurried into the living room/bedroom to see him peeking up at the ceiling inside of the closet. I cocked a brow and carefully approached. “He’s climbing to the roof.” There was a hole in the ceiling for some kind of secret tunnel that led upwards.

“Follow him,” I ordered. “I’ll take the steps. JJ, watch the door downstairs to make sure he doesn’t get out, and coordinate with SWAT to make sure that the block is locked down just in case. Get a crime scene team here to see if Declan was ever here.”

Morgan holstered his weapon then quickly pulled himself up into the tunnel to follow Doyle, meanwhile I hurried out into the hallway to start sprinting up the rest of the stairs, and JJ ran down them. How the fuck did this happen? How did we lose Declan like this, and how was Doyle actually planning on getting out of this?

And then I burst out onto the roof to see Morgan chasing after Doyle who was running for the fire escape on the side of the building. Morgan aimed his weapon, but didn’t shoot. Instead, he tried commanding Doyle to stop. Like that would help.

“I’ve got the shot,” one of the snipers said over the comms.

“Don’t shoot!” I exclaimed. “Don’t!” I knew what Hotch said about taking the shot if given the chance, but things were different now that we couldn’t find Declan in the apartment. Our only way of getting him back now was by keeping his father alive. Asshole. “Hold your fire!” When nothing came, Morgan tackled Doyle and spun him onto his stomach so that he could be handcuffed. “You got it?” I asked him. He nodded while slapping the cuffs on Doyle. “I’ll have JJ take him back to the office while we start going through everything downstairs.”

Morgan groaned as he yanked Doyle up onto his feet. “You’re not gonna let me take a crack at him?”

“Not yet.”

Doyle chuckled. I squinted at him while searching his eyes for a reason that he could have possibly found this funny. He noticed my curiosity. “Lauren was right about you.”

Morgan tugged on Doyle’s restraints to make them hurt. “Shut up.”

Doyle kept laughing as Morgan pushed him towards the stairwell so that JJ could take him to the office like I had ordered. My only question, however, was, what the hell did he mean by that? Lauren was right about me? Right about what? The question lingered in my head as I sighed and moved to walk downstairs, too.

Afterwards, hours passed while we were combing through Doyle’s apartment, trying to find clues about where he must have taken Declan, as well as compiling evidence connecting him to Valhalla and Prentiss’s death. For someone in hiding, there was a lot he had with him. Usually, people in his situation would stay minimalist and wouldn’t have all of their condemning evidence in one spot, but Doyle was so cocky that he wouldn’t get caught that he didn’t bother to keep any of his current business elsewhere. There were so many guns in that one apartment that we could have started another small army. I couldn’t understand how on Earth someone would need all of that. Then again, Doyle already had a small army, and the reason they needed to smuggle all of those weapons out of the state was so that he could maintain power in Europe while he was underground. Well, looked like all of that was worthless now.

I sighed as I stepped outside of that tiny, dirty, smelly, cramped apartment for the first time in over ten hours. It really took that long. Doyle had been sitting at the office the entire time, brewing in his own thoughts, which was our strategy to break him. If he was left in darkness and silence long enough, he would open up. Hopefully. At least, Morgan and I would give it a shot when we would head back to the office. For now, we were down tearing the entire apartment to shreds. The bastard even had papers hiding behind the wallpaper.

When my phone started buzzing in my pocket, I sighed again and dug it out. “Hotchner,” I answered.

“Mmm… I could get used to that,” Hotch’s voice echoed over the phone, making me melt.

I perked up within an instant while looking down at my watch, spotting the time and how long it had been since he last called me, and how he promised he would call when he was close to landing in Virginia. Finally, I thought. “How close are you?”

“Ten, fifteen minutes.”

It was almost morning already. He was probably going to be landing just as the sun would start to peek over the tall buildings of Quantico. “I’m coming to pick you up.”

“Y/N, you should stay—”

“Nope,” I interrupted adamantly.

Hotch chuckled. “You’re really going to be a brat about this right now?”

“Mhm. You can scold me for it when you see me.”

“God, I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Hey, sunshine,” Morgan said, sneaking up behind me, “you ready to go?”

“I’ll see you in a few minutes, baby,” I told Hotch. Before he could say anything in return, though, I hung up on him. I hid my grin as I buried my phone in my back pocket, then turned to face Morgan. “Can you handle the interrogation for a bit while I head to the airport?”

“He’s back already?”

“Yeah.”

Morgan nodded. “Go get him.” We smiled at each other. “No detours, though, sunshine. There and back.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I responded half-heartedly while already walking away from him. “Just remember, when this is over with, you and Clooney are going home!”

----

To say I was nervous would have been a drastic understatement. I had gone four months without seeing him. Four months without his touch, his kiss, his hold, his love. A lot could change in four months. People could grow apart in four months. I was absolutely terrified that even though we called each other every day, we might not have been the same Hotchners who said goodbye to each other at the airport a few months ago. I knew that I still loved him endlessly— maybe even more now that I had been starved of him for so long. But I didn’t know what happened to him out there. I didn’t know what new experiences he had that could have possibly changed him. For all I knew, he could walk off that plane in a few minutes and walk right past me without a care. I just prayed that he was still Aaron. That the man I fell in love with would walk off that plane and know exactly how to hold me again. It was like I could already feel his touch, even though the plane’s engines hadn’t died out yet. He was so far, but he was so damn close. This was the closest we had been in four fucking months, and I was just so ready to see him already.

The plane came to a slow and steady stop on the runway. With every second that passed, I felt a growing need to throw up everywhere. He was probably sitting in there, watching me through the window, grinning ear to ear because I looked so nervous and sick. He could likely see me, yet I couldn’t see anything but the sun in my eyes. He was always an asshole, but he even had to beat me to the first look. Asshole x2.

The door of the jet popped open, and it started slowly falling down towards the concrete, the stairs on the inside making a slow appearance. I thought about what was going to happen. How was I going to react? How was he going to react? Was it better to stay where I was or was it better to meet him at the bottom of the steps? I felt like even if I wanted to move towards the plane, I wouldn’t have been able to. I was frozen in place as my mind raced with questions and endless possibilities. But there was one thing that was consistent: I was going to hold my husband in my arms, and I was going to tell him that I loved him over and over again until I passed out.

The second I saw a foot step out of the jet, I started sprinting as fast as I could without stopping to think. The rest of him emerged, and Hotch looked around for me. After spotting me from the top of the stairs, Hotch jumped down the steps, dropped his bag on the runway, and started running towards me, too. He held his arms out, an invitation for me to jump and hold him tight, so that was exactly what I did. Our bodies clashed, but he still managed to catch me, even though the force sent him stumbling back a few unwanted steps. My arms flew around his shoulders, my legs wrapped around his hips, my face buried in the crook of his neck. It didn’t matter that he smelled like sweat, sand, and cheap deodorant, because he was finally home with me and that was all that mattered. Hell, I even enjoyed the smell since it just meant that I had him in my arms again.

I squeezed him tight with my arms and legs after he nuzzled his face— beard, sunglasses, and all— into the crook of my neck. The aching in my chest, my broken heart that had been falling apart during every second that he was away from me, slowly started to mend with every breath we took together. I couldn’t tell if I wanted to cry, scream, cheer, laugh, or all of the above. Every single emotion imaginable was flooding my body and the only way I could cope with it was by nearly squeezing the life out of him while repeating: “I love you, I love you, I love you” over and over in his ear. I never wanted to stop saying it. I prayed that he would never let me go again and that we could say those three words until there was no more breath in our lungs.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” we kept whispering like we were records stuck on repeat. Fuck, I missed the way he said it to me. I missed the way he said my name and the way he called me “baby”. Nothing felt more right than how he spoke to me and how he kissed my neck in between words.

When his beard started tickling my neck, I finally paused to let out a giggle. I leaned back, his arms still around my torso to hold me for support, and I got a good look at him for the first time in months. There was no screen between us, no shitty computer cameras, no god awful Skype buffer, no speakers that cut out every other word. He looked so different than how I remembered him. His face was slimmed behind the scratchy beard he had grown, and his eyes were more sunken with exhaustion— if that were even possible. Aaron Hotchner always had dark circles under his eyes, that was no secret. Between work, the kids, and wrangling me, Hotch never had time to sleep; but Pakistan kicked his ass, and I could see it in every little detail about him.

He watched me with the brightest smile I had ever seen on his face as I brought my left hand up to his face and scratched my nails gently down his beard. “This is even hotter in person,” I smirked.

“It has to go the second I get an electric shaver,” he laughed.

My smirk fell and I pouted, “Are you sure?” He nodded. “But I have literally never wanted to fuck you harder in my entire life.”

He paused and gulped. “Okay, so maybe it can stay for a few days.”

I perked up again at my little victory and scratched it again. “Please don’t ever leave me again. Please.”

“I’d rather die than go away again.”

“Don’t be hyperbolic, Agent Hotchner.” I hit his shoulder playfully. He grinned before tightening his arms around me again to make me lean in for a kiss. I grabbed his face, the hairs on his cheeks tickling my palms as I did so, and I moaned into his mouth. “I love you so much.”

His eyes screwed shut as he slid his tongue into the kiss and claimed dominance. I missed that feeling so much. I missed how he tasted, how he smelled, how he felt, how he had to dominate me every second of every day. I missed getting lost in his eyes and staring at his lips all day until I could finally kiss them until our lips were chapped. If there weren’t a million and one things going on outside of that airport, I would have begged him to take me inside and fuck me in the bathroom. It should have been impossible to need him that much considering everything that was going on with Ian Doyle, yet there I was, only thinking about showing Aaron Hotchner how much I loved him.

Hotch pulled away from my lips, but he kept his nose pressed to mine. “Emily?”

“At home with Jessica.”

“Jack?”

“At school.”

“You?”

“The most relieved I have ever been in my life.” I leaned in and kissed him again. I thought to myself: “Please, never let this end. Let us stay trapped in each other’s arms forever. Never let us get tired of kissing each other, of holding each other, of saying ‘I love you’. Never let the desperation for passion die. Never let me miss him ever again. Keep him by my side until we die of old age. Please.”

And just like he could read my mind, Hotch loosened his hold on me ever so slightly, making me drop down to my feet, and he said, “We should get back to the office.”

I shook my head. “Just… One more minute… Please.”

“One more minute will turn into an hour at least, you know that.”

“Is that so bad?”

“No, it isn’t.” Hotch cupped my cheeks and kissed me as hard as he could. After a short minute of him kissing me like he had been starved of it for years, Hotch pushed me away. Our hands fell to our sides and I bit my lip while I tried to focus on not jumping on him again. “We have to go.”

I tried to catch my breath, my chest rising and falling at a dramatic pace. It took every ounce of strength and self-restraint I had stored away to not jump back on him and kiss him again. I felt like I was going to cry because he wasn’t in my arms again. I felt like screaming and kicking— throwing a tantrum like Jack would. I felt like at any moment, the two of us would break, and I would tackle him to the ground before showering him in kisses and pinning him down so that he couldn’t leave me again.

Hotch stumbled away from me to grab his go-bag from where he dropped it because he had the same look I had, and I knew that he was sharing the same thoughts. When he came back, he took my hand, and we walked towards the car. I started catching him up on everything we knew about the case thus far. Ian and Declan, all of Ian’s business papers that he had in his apartment. I realized then just how little we actually knew. Hopefully by the time we got back to the office, Morgan would have something out of Doyle that would help.

I drove the whole way to Quantico because he was too tired from the flight and the time zones. He had one of my hands trapped in his instead of on the steering wheel, and he kept kissing my knuckles again and again. He wasn’t listening to me. Not that I blamed him. If he wanted to just talk shop and I was sitting there, not distracted by driving, I would’ve been antsy to shower him in love, too. But Morgan said no detours. As much as it pained me, he was right that there really wasn’t any time to drive home, or even pull to the side of the road to fuck Hotch. I really, really wanted to, though; so, I figured the longer I distracted myself with work, the better off we would be. After this, though… Once this was all resolved… I wasn’t letting him go.

At the office, Hotch and I headed up to the sixth floor, somehow managing to go that entire time without touching each other. I wanted to kiss him again. I wanted to hold him again. While we were standing in the elevator, I stared at him and thought about pushing him against the wall, but it wasn’t worth it right now. I hated this inner battle I was having to fight between wanting him all to myself in that very moment and just focusing wholeheartedly on the case. The worst thought hit me suddenly… Maybe it would have been better if he didn’t come back so soon… I mean, he was just so distracting, I felt like I couldn’t celebrate this win as much as I should’ve been.

And then we stepped onto the floor.

“Hey.” Hotch grabbed my hand, tugging me back a few steps towards him. “You trust me, right?”

I furrowed my brows as I turned to face him. Of course I trusted him. Why wouldn’t I? He was my husband, and we made a promise to each other a long time ago to not keep any secrets from one another. I had no reason to doubt him. I wouldn’t have met him at the airport like that if I didn’t trust and love him wholeheartedly.

“You know that I do everything for a reason?”

What was he on about? Was there something I missed between meeting him at the airport and walking into the building with him? Why was he suddenly acting so weird?

I put my hands on his biceps. “Listen. I know that you told me you were in an all guys unit. If there’s something you want to say about it, I’m all ears. And I’m going to support you no matter what.” I bit back a smile.

Hotch cracked a smile. “No,” he shook his head, “that’s not what I mean.”

“Phew.” I rolled my eyes playfully. “I thought I was going to have to give you the birds and the bees talk, and how love is love—”

“Shut up.” He laughed before kissing me.

I pushed him back gently. “I’m just saying, if you’re going to cheat on me, it should at least be with a guy so that you get to experiment a bit.” I patted his chest.

He was still laughing quietly. “What am I going to do with you, Agent Hotchner?”

“I don’t know, Agent Hotchner,” I responded as I let him pull me back in for another kiss. “I’m sure you’ll think of something before we get home after this case, though.” I pecked his lips again, then escaped into the board room.

Everyone was standing behind the round table, huddled together as they discussed something about the case. It seemed as though Morgan had just finished his first attempt at getting information out of Doyle, to no avail. They were discussing how he was going to approach the second try, but no one’s ideas seemed to stick since Morgan had an excuse for why none of it would work. It was like we had hit a dead end, even though Doyle was the end, technically. He was the one who took Declan, and he was the one who took our sister from us. Prentiss was dead because of him, and we weren’t going to let him get away this time.

When Hotch walked into the room, everyone fell silent and turned to get a look at him. Hotch really didn’t seem to care about our no PDA at work rule now, because as everyone’s eyes lingered on him and his beard, Hotch came over to me, took my hand in his, and kissed my cheek. A lot changed for him in the Middle East, I guess. He missed me and he didn’t care what rules we had. He wanted to just have me around all the time, and I couldn’t blame him. But, technically, I was still the unit chief until Hotch could officially come back, and I couldn’t let us break the rules. Now I understood why Hotch was always so adamant about me behaving while at work. It was excruciatingly painful to not touch and kiss him just because I was the boss and had to set an example.

I moved away from Hotch, taking my seat at the round table. Everyone followed my lead warily, their eyes still trained on Hotch. Him and JJ didn’t sit, though. They were the only ones who stayed on their feet at the front of the room. Hotch had his arms crossed, a frown hiding under his facial hair, his eyes wandering around the room as he thought nervously about something. This had to do with him asking about my trust, but I didn’t understand how. Him worrying about something and not telling me almost immediately was only making me worry, too. He needed to spit it out fast or I would go insane.

“Everything alright, Hotch?” Morgan asked, also taking notice of Hotch’s clear unease.

Hotch didn’t nod or give any kind of reassurance that everything was alright. Instead, he shifted his weight on the balls of his feet— a silent tell that something was definitely wrong. He kept his head down now, only glancing up through his lashes occasionally to look at me. A thought struck me that maybe my joke wasn’t really a joke in the hallway. Four months was a long time to go without me, and it probably didn’t help that all he got was shitty phone sex. Maybe he really did change out there in the desert. Maybe he was showering me in love because he was going to drop a huge ass bomb that said: “I’m leaving you” or “I’m quitting the BAU and running away forever” or “I’m taking the kids and you’ll never see them again.” Every shit scenario possible was racing through my head. Like I said, if he wasn’t going to spit it out soon, I was going to start screaming for answers.

“Nine months ago,” Hotch began, “I made a decision that affected this team. As you all know, Prentiss lost a lot of blood after her fight with Doyle. We told you that she succumbed to her wounds…” He hesitated a beat. “That’s not really the case.”

Shock filled the room as it dawned on each of us what Hotch was really saying. I didn’t want to jump to any conclusions because I really, really didn’t want to get my hopes up… but it sounded like he was telling us that Prentiss was alive. That over the past seven months, we have been led to believe that she died in that hospital.

“The truth is, the doctors were able to stabilize her, and she was airlifted to Bethesda under a covert exfiltration.”

My shoulders fell. So, it was true. Emily Prentiss was alive. The woman we mourned the loss of for seven months was… still around all along? That was why Hotch asked if I trusted him. That was why he was being so handsy. He knew that I hated it when he kept things from me. He knew that I hated it when he would betray my trust like this. I yelled at him for weeks the last time he did it— which was our suspension over two years ago. He was asking about trust and touching me as often as he could because he didn’t know if this admission of the truth was going to break us apart. This wasn’t like him lying and going to ask for a transfer out of the BAU. This wasn’t like him lying to me about his health. This was Emily Prentiss. This was our sister we lost in the field. We buried her. Why did Hotch… What… I— My thoughts were too scrambled to form another cohesive thought other than: “How could he do this to us?”

“After she got better, she was reassigned to Paris, where she was given multiple fake identities so that she could be safe,” Hotch continued.

“She’s alive?” Spencer finally asked the clarifying question we were all dying to know the answer to.

Hotch nodded shortly, keeping his eyes lowered. He wasn’t even looking at me now because of the shame and guilt he likely felt.

“But we buried her,” Spencer croaked.

Hotch nodded again. “If anyone has any issues with the executive decision that I made, then they can take it up with me.”

“Issues?” Morgan asked angrily. “Issues, Hotch? Yeah, I’ve got a few issues, but why don’t you start with the fact that you let your own wife believe that Emily was dead and let them name your daughter after her because of it, hmm? Don’t you think that you owe Y/N an explanation?”

“Morgan,” I hissed quietly. It was neither the time nor the place to discuss my daughter. I had a few choice words for Hotch running through my head, but I fully intended on keeping them to myself until Hotch and I could speak privately.

“Emily’s alive, Y/N. How are you going to explain that to your daughter as she grows up?”

“Stop it,” I demanded more harshly.

There wasn’t anything Morgan could say to me that I didn’t already know. Hotch had betrayed everything we believed in and promised each other. He had told me countless times since meeting me that he would never lie to me, and every time he ended up breaking that promise, he would tell me that it wouldn’t happen again. But there we were. Another promise broken. Even worse, though, was the fact that he made a vow to me on our wedding day that he would always be honest with me. Always. And yet he kept this a secret from me. Did he not trust that I could have kept it a secret? Morgan was right, I was owed an explanation. Hotch kept this from me, his wife for nine months. What else was he hiding? How was I ever supposed to trust him again?

I stood from my seat and turned for the door. No one said anything as I took a step but came to a sudden halt when I discovered that my path was blocked by someone in my way. I felt like I was going to pass out. There was she was: Emily Prentiss… standing right in front of me. Back from the dead.

She let out a sigh of regret, but also relief, when our eyes met. She looked sorry about how all of this happened. And she should have been. Morgan sat on our couch for months, crying because he missed her so much. I named my daughter after her because I missed her so much and I wanted her memory to be remembered. What was it all for, though, now that was standing there? What was the point now? Morgan was right to be vocally angry because he knew that I couldn’t. But as mad as I was at Hotch, I felt an overwhelming need to hug her. I crashed into her. I didn’t hesitate. Nine months without her. Nine fucking months.

Emily caught me as I embraced her as tightly as I could. She rubbed small circles on my back as she held me close. “I am so sorry, Y/N.”

I sniffled into her shoulder while I hugged her tighter. She was there. Like, really there. I wasn’t dreaming or hoping anymore. It was her. Our family was back. And I was just so relieved. I couldn’t even be mad at her. But I could tell as I pulled away from Emily and turned to look at the room with her that Morgan was pissed beyond compare. Everyone was crying because they were so grateful for the fact that she was still alive. However, Morgan wasn’t. He was standing there, pouting with disbelief, his hands curled into shaky fists that were holding in all of his anger.

She carefully let go of me and approached Morgan. “Derek, you have to believe me when I tell you that not a day went by where I didn’t think about you guys and how sorry I am that things turned out this way. You didn’t deserve that.”

“I didn’t deserve to know that you were alive?” he questioned through gritted teeth.

“You didn’t deserve to hold a dying friend in your arms.” Prentiss extended her arms for another hug, a silent offer for him, which he took slowly, as if he were afraid that he would fall right through her like she was some kind of ghost. When they embraced, however, I saw Morgan’s anger wash away. Now, he was just broken. “I’m so sorry.” He squeezed her waist as tight as he could for as long as he could before she tapped out and parted from him. She turned to face me again. “I want to meet baby Emily, if you’ll let me, once this is all over.”

I nodded, still too hesitant to say anything.

She smiled. “Okay… For now, I just want to focus on finding Declan and bringing him home safe. What do you guys know so far?”

Reid immediately jumped to his feet like this was his moment to shine, and he started asking her questions about Declan, Ian, and Louise, but I couldn’t hear anything. Everything seemed so washed out and distant. The only thing that was clear to me was the shame on my husband’s face as I stood there, staring at him, silently letting him know just how badly he had fucked up this time around. He could hardly look me in the eyes.

“Can I see you in my office?” he asked.

Everyone watched us silently, wondering if I would correct him on the fact that it was my office now. Or maybe they were waiting with anticipation to see if I was going to blow him off considering I had been glaring at him the entire time since I found out that Prentiss was alive this whole time—and he knew! But that was exactly why I indulged him. I didn’t correct him, I didn’t argue with him, I didn’t embarrass him. I simply followed him to his office.

I sat in my chair at my desk, which all used to be his before he left. He sat down across from me in one of the seats I would sit in whenever I was called to meet with him in his office. He seemed so out of his element in that chair, and, honestly, I was glad. I wanted him to be uncomfortable. I wanted him to be physically and emotionally uneasy because that was how I felt every day while he was away, and that was how I felt since finding out that our daughter’s namesake was actually alive and well.

“Were you ever going to tell me?” I inquired, reclining back. He shook his head. “You were going to just let me think that she was dead in order to, what, make me feel better about naming our daughter after her? Why didn’t you try to stop me—”

“I did try. I asked you if there were really no other names you could think of, but you were so adamant about it and I couldn’t tell you the truth; so, I just had to let it happen.”

“Is that why you left?”

Hotch froze for a moment while searching my eyes, and before he even began nodding, I knew the answer. He sighed. “It was hard to keep lying to everyone, but it felt impossible to keep lying to you specifically, especially since you took Emily’s death so hard… So, I just… I ran.”

“So, you would have stayed if I knew the truth?”

“Yes.”

I scoffed and let out an exasperated chuckle.

“Baby, I am so sorry, you have to believe me. I wish things hadn’t happened the way they did.”

“Yeah, well, you had a choice in that, didn’t you?”

“Y/N, that’s not fair. I was just trying to protect her—"

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door, proceeded by Garcia cautiously stepping into the office. “Sorry, ma’am, but I found something.”

I nodded her over, holding my hand out for the file of information she put together. Hotch eyed me. Usually, it was him sitting in my current seat, ignoring me in his seat as he accepted another file from Garcia who had addressed him in the first place. Everything felt so backwards. But, then again, maybe that was what he deserved now that I knew that he had been lying to me this entire time.

“I was narrowing down a list of Doyle’s top ten enemies from what we know and what Morgan’s getting out of him. The only one who’s been in the states recently is Mr. Richard Gerace. He’s been here for the past two weeks with a work visa.”

“Is there any way to connect him to this?” I asked while flipping through the file.

“The guy who cut off the camera feed at Declan’s house had a scar on his neck...” She turned the next page for me and pointed to a mugshot of Gerace. He had the same exact scar on his neck, meaning it was definitely him who took Declan.

“Get me everything you can on him, please, Penelope,” I said while closing the file and setting it down on my desk. She hesitated. “What is it?”

“That’s everything I have.”

I sighed. “Can you call Prentiss in, please?”

“Sure…”

“Thank you.”

When she left, I sighed and looked at Hotch again. Neither of us said anything as we stared at each other uncomfortably, a barrier of trust broken between us now. I didn’t like it when he lied to me. Every time I told him not to lie to me, he promised he wouldn’t, and then he would, and I would be mad for a few days before forgiving him and moving on. How much longer was I supposed to put up with it? I couldn’t even count how many times he lied to me on my fingers anymore. Meanwhile, I could count the number of times I lied to him on one hand. At some point, enough was going to be enough, and if he wasn’t careful, it was going to be soon. As much as I loved him, I couldn’t keep living with the lies. What was more important to him? Me or protecting his secrets? If the answer wasn’t immediately me, then there was an entirely different conversation we needed to have at some point that included what our future was going to look like.

“We’re going to talk later,” I finally told him.

As we were coming back to the office together, Hotch stopped to ask if I trusted him, and at the time, of course I did… But now? I wasn’t so sure. Then again, I’d said that a dozen times before when he pulled this shit. The worst part was, that I knew that I was going to end up crawling back to him, and it was going to be an excuse for him to lie to me all over again.

Hotch nodded. “Yeah…”

There was another knock at the door, this time from Prentiss, who seemed too shy to invite herself in, even though I had requested her presence. I waved her in.

“Gerace,” I said, holding the file out for her. She slowly walked over and accepted it. “Garcia thinks that he’s the one who took Declan.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” she insisted before even looking at the file. I waited for her to explain why she thought that. “Gerace gave up on Doyle a long time ago, and he’s too much of a coward to pull something like this off. Not to mention how meticulous the abduction was. Gerace doesn’t have that level of patience and organization.”

I scoffed and wiped my palms over my face. “He was our only suspect and lead.”

“I mean…” She flipped through the file. “That’s definitely Gerace’s scar… So, I suppose he had something to do with it, but I wouldn’t say he’s solely responsible. If he’s working with a partner, he’s definitely the submissive.” She flipped another page. “Hold on—” I looked up at her. “Look at this.” She turned the file to show me one of the shots from the security footage of Gerace turning the cameras off. “Look in the background.” There was a woman standing there, watching Gerace while cocking a gun at her side. Prentiss’s jaw dropped as a realization dawned on her. “This might have something to do with Declan’s birth mother, considering the overkill towards Louise, who was Declan’s mother figure throughout his entire life.”

“Do you know who she is?”

She shook her head. “No. Doyle never told me.”

“Would you be willing to go in and get the information out of him now?”

She looked between me and Hotch, almost as if she were waiting for permission from him, but then she recalled that I was calling the shots right now until Hotch could be reinstated into the unit by Strauss and Cody. She finally gave in. “I don’t mind giving it a shot.”

Since Prentiss was still just a visitor, she couldn’t technically be allowed to wander the floor on her own. Even though she knew exactly where the interrogation room was and how to get there the fastest, I still had to usher her there. So, without saying anything to Hotch, I started walking out. Prentiss watched him silently for a moment before deciding to follow me.

“You know,” she said while catching up to me on the ramp outside of my office, “unit chief suits you.”

“It won’t last long. It’s just until Hotch can come back.”

We continued on towards the interrogation room in silence. When we stepped into the mirror room, I saw that Morgan and JJ were there, watching Doyle who was sitting on his own, staring at the wall while he silently thought and worried about his missing son. With others around to “officially” watch Prentiss, I took my leave almost immediately, heading back to my office so that I could sit down, catch my breath, and have a moment to think.

When I got there, Hotch was already gone. I glanced across the bullpen to see that he was in the boardroom with Rossi, Reid, and Garcia, all of them working on finding who Declan’s mother was in case that was the next fresh lead we would get from Doyle. They were fine on their own. For just a few minutes, I could disappear, and no one would notice. So, I closed the door, spun the dial of the blinds until they were shut tight, and I immediately broke down. I didn’t even make it to my chair or the couch. I just fell right then and there.

I started crying with my face hiding in my hands. Getting Hotch back should have been the best thing in the world, and yet it felt so shitty. I hated that he lied to me again. I hated that things went down like that. I hated that our daughter was mixed up in the drama of it all now just because of her name. I hated that I was mad at the love of my life after just getting him back, because instead of wanting to hold him close until our last breath, I wanted to kick his ankles until my anger was gone—If my anger would ever go away.

And then there was a knock at the door.

I tried catching my breath and calming down enough to wipe my tears away, but the door opened before I could collect myself entirely. I hid my face in the shadows. It didn’t matter who it was because I was just hoping that they would leave me alone now that they saw me collapsed on the floor and hiding my face while sniffling.

“Sunshine?”

I let out a choked sob when I realized that it was Morgan who had followed me from the mirror room to my office. “What?”

He knelt beside me and put a hand on my shoulder. “Come here…” He turned me slightly until I was facing him, and we immediately pulled each other in for a tight hug. I hid my face in his shirt, letting my tears soak the fabric without care. “It’s okay. I promise. Just breathe.” He rubbed circles on my back to help me calm down slowly.

I started to catch my breath by sucking in deep breaths and letting out short ones. “You shouldn’t have brought up Emily earlier,” I whispered.

He had been completely out of line when he brought up my daughter in the context of Prentiss still being alive. That was a conversation for me and my husband to have at a later time when we could talk privately. It didn’t give him permission to put our predicament on blast. I was sure that everyone had been thinking it, too. I mean, they were all probably wondering the same thing I was, which was what the hell were Hotch and I going to do now that Prentiss, our daughter’s namesake was back? But, honestly, it was none of their business. Yes, Morgan was her godfather, but he wasn’t her father, therefore, he had no say. He would be the first to know when a decision would be made, of course, but not before then.

I slid out of his arms and fell back against the wall carefully to just sit there and stare into the darkness. “It wasn’t fair,” I continued.

“I’m sorry, cupcake…” He slid down the wall to sit beside me, then took one of my cold hands in his. “My emotions have just been all over the place, and I snapped when I didn’t mean to. I know that’s not an excuse, but…” He sighed.

“I get it.” I rested my head on his shoulder. Of all people, I understood the most how Morgan felt.

“Did you talk to him?”

“Kind of…”

“Are you going to forgive him?”

“Unfortunately.”

Morgan swung his arm around me so that he could hug me close to his side. “Do you ever just miss the old days when things were so simple? Gideon and Elle were still on the team. Pretty boy was still dorky and quiet all the time. Hotch actually talked to us and trusted us.”

“You mean talked to you and trusted you.” I chuckled. “He didn’t talk to me when I first joined the team.”

“Yeah, because he had a schoolgirl crush on you. That doesn’t mean he didn’t trust you. But wasn’t it so much easier back then when you two weren’t together, and everything was just about putting the back guys away, and nothing was ever personal…” He sighed. “I think we just haven’t been the same ever since the Fisher King.”

He was right. That was the first case where we were all effected personally, and an Unsub got under our skin, and tore our family apart. I mean, I assumed that it was because of Randall Garner that my sister left the BAU. If we had never gotten mixed up in that case, maybe she and Gideon would still be around. But then again, if that were the case, then we wouldn’t’ve had Rossi or Emily on the team, and I was genuinely happy that I knew them and that they were apart of our family now. Rossi was Hotch’s best friend who liked to help me pick on him from time to time. Emily was one of my closest friends… At least before she left. I didn’t know where we stood now. That was what Morgan meant by things being easier back in the day, though, I supposed. Things weren’t so messy.

“I think you’re right,” I agreed quietly.

----

Not even an hour later, Prentiss had already convinced Doyle to tell us who the mother of his child was and how to find her. With Garcia’s help, we managed to track her down. Her name was Chloe Donaghy, and she was a notorious crime lord who ran a human trafficking and prostitution ring. She and Ian had met about eight years before Prentiss met him. When she found out that she was pregnant with Declan, she tried to kill herself to make sure that his son would never be born, but Doyle stopped her before she could even swallow a single pill, and from that point on during the pregnancy, she was his prisoner. He kept her locked away. She was chained to a bed in a locked room in his heavily guarded home for seven months straight. She was given a healthy diet for herself and the baby, and Doyle had a doctor go to check on her every other week or so to make sure that they were still okay. Once she had the baby, however, she left. She wanted nothing to do with Declan, and everyone knew it, so Doyle practically paid her to stay away and to never tell a soul about their son.

However, once she found out that Ian was a wanted man and was in hiding, she decided that she wanted a piece of him in the name of revenge. So, she got the same idea as us. Knowing that Ian would try to find Declan, she waited until someone found him first—which happened to be us—and once she knew where her son was, she jumped at the opportunity to take him when everyone was too distracted to notice. We managed to track her down to Baltimore. It looked like she and Gerace took Declan down there, and they were planning on selling him to another one of Doyle’s enemies, a man by the name of Lachlan. That wasn’t good. If Declan left U.S. soil, there was nothing we could do. It would be left up to the CIA or another agency similar to them, but they wouldn’t care. So, I made a call.

I decided that the best way to ensure that little boy would never die at the hands of a revenge driven monster like Lachlan was to have our team pursue this. I knew the risks involved with the choice. I knew that my career was on the line, and that I would inevitably be demoted as unit chief—if I were lucky. Worst case scenario, actually, was that I would be fired. But I didn’t care in the moment, because all I could think about was the fact that there was a little boy out there, wondering why his own mother was doing this, and why he was facing danger again. And then I thought about Jack. Declan was around Jack’s age. I couldn’t bear to think that it could have been Jack in Declan’s shoes, and that if that were the case, I would want someone to fight for him until he was safe at home.

So, I made the call to use Doyle as a pawn in our game. We loaded Doyle into an SUV with myself, Hotch, and Morgan, and we drove down to the airstrip where Garcia found out that Chloe and Lachlan were catching a flight at together. Emily was against the idea. She was concerned that Doyle was going to get away, or that Chloe was going to get Declan and Ian, and all of this was for nothing. I wasn’t going to let that happen. We were going to get Declan back, and we weren’t going to let Doyle get away. After everything that happened over the past few months, I was going to die before fucking this up.

“You wanna do it, or should I?” Hotch asked as we pulled up to the jet on the runway. I gestured that he could go for it, but I didn’t look at him or say anything in response. I still wasn’t ready to do that much. “Okay.” Morgan handed him the megaphone, and Hotch stepped out of the car to announce, “Lachlan McDermott and Cloe Donaghy, this is the FBI. We know that you have Declan Doyle. To ensure his safety, we would like to make a trade. Declan for Ian Doyle.”

That was our cue to show off Doyle to the world, so Morgan and I pulled him out of the car, making sure that our grip on him was strong enough that he couldn’t wiggle out. And then we heard a gunshot, and I saw a muzzle flash from within the jet. No. No, no, no. There was no way they just killed Declan. I refused to believe it, but just in case it was true, we kept Doyle close to the car so that we could stuff him back in and drive off if we had to.

Suddenly, the door of the jet started falling open, revealing the steps that Lachlan started storming down with Declan in front of him. I let out a quiet sigh of relief at the same time as Ian. It didn’t last long, however, since Lachlan immediately put a gun to Declan’s head.

“Bring him here!” Lachlan demanded, referencing Doyle.

Hotch looked over at me. “You’re still the unit chief. It’s your call.”

I sighed quietly while trying to quickly weigh the pros and cons. It certainly wasn’t ideal to put Doyle in Lachlan’s line of fire, but if it was the only way to get Declan…

“Now!” Lachlan yelled.

Within an instant, I was pushing forward, Morgan following lead by helping me move Doyle towards Lachlan. When we were close enough, we pushed him onto his knees and waited for something to happen. Lachlan smiled wickedly. He said something to Doyle, but I wasn’t listening while my attention was trained on Declan and trying to figure out how I was going to grab him on time while Morgan made sure he still had a grip on Doyle. I just had to trust the process, I supposed.

When I heard movement from the jet again, I looked up to see Chloe limping out, holding her stomach from the shot she took from Lachlan. They must have argued about taking our deal. Before I could tell her to stay back, though, I saw how she was raising her arm and aiming at me, Ian, and Morgan.

“Gun!” Morgan shouted, tackling me out of the way just as the sound of a gunshot rang through the air. I groaned as the wind was knocked out of me. Morgan rolled off me to check to see if I was okay. “Are you hit?” I shook my head. “Doyle—” He spun around on his knees to see Ian falling to the ground while holding his bleeding neck. “Shit.”

Another gunshot fired, this time from Chloe aiming directly at Lachlan, instantly killing him. In retaliation, Hotch, Reid, Prentiss, and JJ all shot down Chloe as fast as they could. Hotch ran over to me, putting his hands on my cheeks while scanning my body with my eyes to make sure that I was alright, the same way Morgan had. I inhaled sharply as I caught my breath. I got that Morgan was just trying to protect me, but did he have to go all high school footballer on me? Fucking hell. We were on concrete. The tackle was worse than getting shot, in my opinion.

“Next time, I make the call. And it won’t be this one,” Hotch whispered to me, brushing my hair out of my face.

“Ha. Ha,” I responded sarcastically. “Help me up.” We clasped our hands together, and he pulled me to my feet, letting me stumble into his chest somewhat before I caught my balance. “Thanks.” I patted his chest. “This is why you’re the unit chief.”

He kissed my forehead. “You thought you were doing the right thing, and that’s all we can ever do.”

I glanced over to Doyle who was reaching out for his son, knowing that it would be the last time. A part of me broke somewhat. As much as I despised Doyle, I had nothing against his son, and seeing a bond between a father and his son, even though they hardly knew each other at all, made me think about Hotch and Jack. It could have been Hotch instead of Haley who died in our house two years ago. We were beyond lucky that he was still with us. That I had a husband who loved me, that our daughter had a father who wanted nothing more than to raise her away from all of this chaos, that our son still had a father who would protect him no matter the cost. We were, by some definition, “lucky” that it wasn’t Hotch and Jack there instead of Ian and Declan.

----

By the time we cleaned up the mess at the airstrip, I had called Jessica and asked if she could bring Emily to the office to surprise Hotch, but also because Prentiss asked if she could meet her, and I felt like after the long day we had, we all deserved that. I mean, she was our little sunshine. If anyone could change the mood entirely, it was her.

So, when we all returned to Quantico, I told security to keep an out for Jessica and the baby—to which they all cheered about how excited they were to see her. The team went up to the boardroom to start tearing down all of the photos and evidence on the walls. Another chapter of our lives closed. Over months, we had been working on a case where we only had a fraction of the pieces. The only person who knew every part of it and could end this once and for all had left, but when she came back, it ended, and now we could just breathe again. We had our family back. That had to count for something.

When I saw Jessica arrive in the elevator, I met her there so that I could still surprise Hotch and Prentiss. “Thank you for bringing her,” I said while crouching down in front of the stroller to see my lil’ bug. She was half awake, but just lucid enough to play with my finger as I wiggled it in her face. “I owe you.”

“It’s no big deal, I swear. I was on my way to pick up Jack from a playdate, and this was on the way, anyhow.”

I glanced up at Jessica. “We can pick him up later. You don’t have to race around for us like this.”

Jessica smiled lightly. “What else am I going to do?”

I stopped to think about that for a moment, considering how we were her only family around now that Haley was gone, and Roy was… Well, Roy didn’t like having Jessica around because she was a very hands-on and task-oriented person when it came to family, and he didn’t like how overbearing and protective she was of him. So, we were the only ones that were around and in need of help. I just felt bad sometimes because it felt like she was our nanny or something. Then again, every time this conversation came up where I would tell her that all of this was unnecessary and that I felt bad, she would always argue that she loved doing it and that it was no big deal. If it really were a problem, she would have ditched us months ago.

“Okay,” I gave in. “We’ll see you at home, then.” I stood to hug her.

“See you at home.”

When we parted, she leaned over to say goodbye to baby Emily quickly, then waved to me as she walked towards the elevator. I waved back shortly before pushing the stroller up the ramp towards the boardroom. Inside, I could see and hear everyone chatting and catching up with one another. Rossi was hogging Aaron. He was so happy to have his buddy back after all this time, but he was still trying to convince him to shave the beard. Over my dead body. I loved that beard, and after everything that man put me through today, I was going to get the chance to scratch my fingers through it as he fucked me. Come hell or high water, I was going to make that happen.

I pushed the stroller into the room, and everyone fell silent. This was the first time Hotch had seen her in… months, and this was the first time Prentiss was going to meet her. Everyone wanted to be witness to it, and no one wanted to disrupt the moment. So, when I spun the stroller around, everyone held their breaths. I tried to ignore them as I pulled the top of stroller back to reveal Emily.

“May I hold her?” Prentiss asked, looking up at me with the brightest smile I had ever seen from her before. I nodded. Prentiss reached into the stroller, buried her hands under Emily, and lifted her up. “Hi, there, baby girl…” Prentiss cooed. Emily kicked and fussed in Prentiss’s arms.

As I watched Prentiss rock Emily side to side in her arms, I felt someone’s arms snake around my waist and pull me backwards into a hug. I smiled and rested my head on Hotch’s shoulder. His beard scratched my cheek slightly as he pressed a gentle kiss against it. I giggled and nuzzled into his touch as much as I could while thinking about how I missed this feeling so bad every single second he was away from me. All those rules we had for so long before he left didn't matter anymore. Not when he had been away and all we wanted was to hold each other and love each other.

“She has your eyes, Hotch,” Prentiss said while Emily giggled. “Yes, you do,” Prentiss teased with the same kind of baby-talk voice everyone used around kids. “You are just too darn cute.”

“I missed you so much,” he whispered in my ear before kissing me.

“I’m still mad at you, Aaron,” I whispered only for him to hear. He loosened his grip on me somewhat. “And I don’t know when I’ll stop being mad.” He hid his face in the crook of my neck to hide his disappointment from everyone else. “But I know that I love you, and that, with time, I’ll learn to forgive and forget about this. Until then, I just need you to bear with me while I navigate rebuilding what trust I had given you, and asking you to give me answers, or asking that you give me some space—whatever it is, I just need you to understand. Can you do that?”

He nodded against me.

“We’re going to be okay,” I sighed, almost like I was trying to convince myself, too. “We’re going to be okay…”

-----

criminal minds family: @peggy1999 @gorgeousdarkangel @alex--awesome--22 @oceaneblu @brithedemonspawn @absolutemarveltrash @bshelley322 @rousethemouse @sunshinepower17 @weexinling @pettttyyyc​ @Braty-angel

[stevenuniversallyreviews]

I don’t need you to love me, I love me

I’m gonna miss writing about Pearl.

As the loneliest Crystal Gem, a loyal servant who became a fierce ally, then a spurned lover, then a grieving survivor, Pearl’s story is about discovering who she can be on her own terms. Like Steven, she believes that her value comes from being valued, but unlike Steven, she was literally programmed this way and has an even harder time breaking loose, so she starts off at the toxic level of selfish selflessness that threatens to consume him, directed towards someone who’s been dead for years. She defines herself by her relationships, but struggles with all of them because she only understands a dynamic where one person is superior and the other is inferior; as such, her life is an endless evaluation of whether she’s worse or better than the people around her, thus whether she should be deferential or condescending. Her problem goes beyond not knowing how to develop loving relationships with equals: she doesn’t know how to love herself.

But she changes her mind.

“We need to talk about us.”

The first act of Change Your Mind (which lines up nicely with its first quarter) sets the stage with Blue and Yellow both converting to Steven’s cause, and while compelling, it’s appropriately intense. That intensity gets even higher as the episode continues, but this is still a big finale, so it’s about damn time for some fanservice.

After a quick “go to your rooms” to reinforce that White Diamond is the Diamonds’ mother more than their older sister, Connie gets the body part pun train rolling: “face-off” will soon be followed by “did you have a hand in this?” and “lend me a hand” (which earns a chuckle from Blue), Pink’s legs succumb when Steven takes a knee, and getting into White’s head becomes the primary goal of the second act (so all of this second quarter and most of the third). Still, the levity seems fleeting before two glints in the sky bring us the one-two punch of Bismuth leading the charge and Lapis and Peridot showing off their threads.

Bismuth fits right in as the leader of the B-Team, as beyond her seniority she’s clearly more competent at running a show than the other two (see: The New Crystal Gems). But her reverse electric guitar soon cedes to a glorious harmony of Lapis and Peridot’s themes as we see their new forms: Lapis gets pants and sandals, and Peridot gets ridiculous shades and a trashcan lid, the perfect adaptation of Static’s saucer for the Crystal Gems’ resident raccoon. Peridot goes ham with three stars, while Lapis wears a subtle dark blue variant that includes all five points if we count her legs. For a moment, everything is right in the world.

Their timing couldn’t be better, and not just because we need some stress relief. Steven begins the finale with one friend on his side, then he gets two Diamonds on his side, and now he has three reinforcements on his side, and this growing group of allies all represent what the Big Three Crystal Gems can’t: the family that Steven has chosen, rather than the family he grew up with. These relationships are all a result of his effort, whether going out of his way to befriend Connie or winning over the five former enemies that now stand at his side, and together they‘re one huge reminder that you can reach people if they’re willing to be reached. White Diamond isn’t a villain because she’s cruel, she’s a villain because she quashes any effort to change her mind.

Furthermore, seeing Lapis and Peridot  in particular next to a pale, prejudiced, recently-discovered member of Steven’s extended family who disagrees with a parent’s name change evokes that other long episode where Steven went out on a limb to change someone’s mind, and the comparison does wonders for putting White Diamond’s bigotry in perspective.

I’ve already made my defense of Andy, but in short, his irritable first impression masks how open-minded he ends up being. Sure, he has some lousy beliefs, but he’s willing to sit down with folks he disagrees with and try and look for ways to either compromise or straight-up be convinced that those beliefs might be wrong. On its own, Gem Harvest could be read as a little too hopeful, especially as it came out weeks after the 2016 election gave proud bigots the White House, but next to Change Your Mind it expands on the finale’s message: keep an open heart and mind, because people can surprise you if you give them a chance, but don’t let yourself be a doormat in the process.

White Diamond would never have come to the Crystal Gems’ table. She still hasn’t even shown up in person since Legs From Here to Homeworld, using a warped version of the same delegation Steven practices in his talks with the Diamonds: he helps others bring their individual experiences to light, showing that his position isn’t unique, while she blots out their individuality and replaces them with her. Blue and Yellow’s contrast has been a plot point for far longer, but Pink and White (and now Steven and White) are an even starker pair of foils, divided not only by personality but by size and age.

Knowing how hard it will be to reach White, Yellow and Blue again suggest that Steven and the Crystal Gems bail, offering their own ships now that Pink’s is unavailable. While this shows how profoundly they believe in him, it again reveals how unfamiliar these two are with being “good.” Beyond the plan only delaying the inevitable (White Diamond for sure could send more troops to Earth in this scenario), Steven points out that his mother failed in both of her identities to confront the problem in a healthy way, and continuing to avoid it will mean it never gets solved. Rose is still a progression from Pink and Yellow and Blue, as fighting for your beliefs addresses the issue more directly than running away, but Steven in turn is a progression from Rose.

Then Connie’s opening words in Blue and Yellow’s conversions pay off. This time she’s the one ending the conversation, and she’s gained enough of their attention that they don’t write her off as a blathering human. Steven never got to meet Rose, rank-and-file Gems don’t have parents, and White Diamond seems to be the root of it all, so Connie is the ideal voice to reach the Diamond Sisters: she’s the only other person on the planet with a living mother. Where Dr. Maheswaran at her worst once stood in for Yellow Diamond, she can now represent the bigger fish, both in her similar brand of maternal tyranny and in the hope that her attitude can change after a good talk.

And just as Connie takes over Steven’s role as the big finisher for Blue and Yellow, Steven takes over Connie’s role as the voice introducing bigger voices now that it’s time to face White. He works with his aunts to bring his grandmother to a standstill—not by beating her statue-like ship into submission, but by joining the arm-ships to the body and completing the picture—and says his piece briefly before ceding the floor to a pair that White has victimized for far longer than the past week or so.

I love that Yellow is the first to speak, flipping the Diamonds’ conversion order and subverting the notion that the more emotionally open Blue might take the lead. This isn’t just a matter of clarity, but bravery, and Yellow has always been the more confrontational of the pair. It’s also that much more impactful to see Yellow push past her fear and allow herself to be vulnerable, given how hard she’s worked to maintain her air of stoicism. Patti LuPone’s raw power has served the character well, and she keeps up the same petulant energy that saw Yellow dishing about White in Familiar, but now she funnels all of it into a stirring argument against the exacting nature of Homeworld society. And because Yellow helps pave the way, Blue can deepen their point by defending Pink’s role in the quartet and detailing how White’s orders have caused the whole family to suffer.

Steven bookends the Diamonds by suggesting that White can start helping everyone by helping her daughters. Then White shows what kind of “help” she’s willing to provide.

Pink’s former pearl was already proof that White Diamond has the power to possess others, but it’s another thing to see it in action. The whole episode so far has been about building up hope again after Steven is knocked down by Homeworld, but all it takes is one agonizing glare to send everything backwards. Blue and Yellow are even worse off than they were before, and as they’re brought into White’s fold, their arms follow suit. White drops the Crystal Gems and lets them fall, then Steven drops the Crystal Gems and dives after them.

As he slides down alien architecture on his shield, the soundtrack gives a nod to the theme song to prepare us for more fanservice. Now that White has made it clear that talking isn’t going to get us anywhere, it’s time for more action. Now that we’ve established the importance of Steven’s chosen family, it’s time to reconnect with the family he was born into.

Amethyst is first, because of course she is. She’s usually the quickest to reform, and she’s the only Gem that Steven has fused with, so Smoky Quartz is the best start if the goal is reeling off three fusions in a row with a growing sense of excitement. Smoky’s theme heralds this new development with glee, evoking the pure joy of seeing a new fusion from Earthlings as it becomes clear what the show is doing. Fusion has recently featured as a stand-in for marriage and an act of rebellion, but now it represents familial love, and doubles as an elegant plot device to get the poofed crew back in action. The wonder of fusion has always been that beyond whatever metaphor it currently serves, it’s also just a really neat piece of magic that lends itself to awesome visuals, and this whole sequence revels in the glorious spectacle.

Pearl is second, because we’ve already seen another version of Rainbow Quartz, so the biggest reveal is bound to be the Garnet fusion. Rainbow Quartz 2.0 blends the old with the new, immediately showing off the latest clever fusion of weapons (a shield and a spear into a parasol) and introducing a blue jacket that will soon belong to Pearl. The drumkit/chiptune mashup of Smoky’s theme is replaced by a piano/chiptune mashup, and then this new fusion opens their mouth.

Of all of Steven’s fusions with a female or female-presenting partner, this is the one with a male voice actor, and it couldn’t be more perfect. Rainbow Quartz was the only one of Rose’s fusions that we saw, and Now We’re Only Falling Apart shows that she was the second-ever cross-Gem fusion after Garnet (that we know of), so she was clearly something special. Pearl’s romantic interest in Rose complicates matters further, as Rainbow Quartz is an embodiment of a deeply imperfect relationship. This is a character with a lot of baggage, but casting Alastair James puts a hard stop to the idea that this is the same Rainbow Quartz, even before we hear them refer to themself as “2.0.” After the literal nightmare that begins Change Your Mind and the figurative nightmare to come, it’s wonderful to have one more piece of evidence that Steven and Rose are different people.

Amethyst and Pearl, like Lapis and Peridot, get great new looks, and they’ll soon be followed by Garnet (after the commercial break). If this was just for the sake of fanservice, it’d be more than enough: it’s always fun to get outfit changes, and between that and the fusions (including Sunstone and Obsidian; again, after the commercial break!) we get a pleasant treat to sate us between the drama. But as always, the show finds a way to create deeper meaning in the magic.

The Diamonds look the same now as they did thousands of years ago, and one of the reasons why is that they’re unbreakable. Creating a new form requires poofing, which is a very silly way to say that the Crystal Gems have found a way to grow through pain.

Life will always have its share of pain. Part of growing up, maybe the biggest part, is figuring out what you’re going to do about it. The Diamonds react to pain by closing themselves off and letting their problems fester rather than addressing them head-on. But over the course of the series, Lapis and Peridot and Amethyst and Pearl and Garnet have put in the work to learn from their pain and heal, and because they’re literal projections of their true selves, they get a physical manifestation of that growth that can only come after weathering one more blow.

To be clear, pain itself shouldn’t be glamorized. It sucks, and it’s okay if your reaction is to take care of yourself rather than use it for Creative Fuel. But the Crystal Gems are what happens when you deal with your pain, and the Diamonds are what happens when you don’t. And because Steven shares the legacy of both, Steven Universe is about him helping others through their pain and Steven Universe Future is about finally confronting his own.

We end with the most frustrating commercial break of the three, coming right in the middle of the second act, so we’ll just keep on going with fusions and new outfits next time. But if we have to stop partway through a scene, at least we get a Monty Python Foot to stamp out the first half of Change Your Mind.

I Can’t Believe We’ve Come So Far

Hilary Florido is the only storyboarder with their own recurring segment in Steven, Universally. But every other storyboarder had plenty of opportunities to make a fully realized High School AU in their promo art, and none of them did, so that’s on them.

Florido is obviously more than her promo art, but it speaks to a specific level of nerdy passion that made her and longtime coboarder Jesse Zuke so dang good at Peridot episodes, starting with just their second collaboration, the iconic Catch and Release. From there they gave us Too Far and Log Date 7 15 2 and Barn Mates and Too Short to Ride and Beta and Gem Harvest, and Florido kept the ride going with Raising the Barn. Peridot would not be Peridot without Hilary Florido.

In terms of more serious clods, Florido is the only person to board all three Kevin appearances (Alone Together with Rebecca Sugar and first regular coboarder Katie Mitroff, Beach City Drift with Zuke, and Kevin Party with final regular coboarder Danny Cragg, who also stopped boarding after the movie). She gave us as Ronaldo at his worst in Rocknaldo and Aquamarine at her worst in I Am My Mom. And as if she needed further proof of her prowess with harrowing material, she gave us Alone at Sea and A Single Pale Rose.

It’s weird to attribute good Steven writing to any one boarder, given he’s in every episode but Jungle Moon and he’s generally pretty great, but Florido worked on some of the most important moments of Steven letting us into his deeper thoughts: she’s behind him getting real with the Cool Kids in Joy Ride, with Amethyst in Steven vs. Amethyst, and with himself in a rare monologue in Lion 4. His ability to discuss the uncomfortable subtext of Mystery Girl’s visual similarity to Rose is key to the magnificent tone of Last One Out of Beach City, and his introspection about his mother’s older identity is just as important to Familiar.

In short, Hilary Florido rocked at characters with rough edges, whether it was Peridot’s ornery id, a bevy of outright villains ruining everyone’s day, normally sympathetic characters doing dubious things, or Steven giving himself enough of a break to complain. She stepped up as a storyboard supervisor for Steven Universe Future, but even if she hadn’t, her legacy would be secure.

(Frankly it’d be secure even if the only thing she gave us was this.)

[sailtoafarawayland]

The Things We Don’t Say (modern AU - Actors)

Summary:  No one is perfect, and sometimes, two people are just so perfectly flawed that those pieces fit together and make something beautiful. When sparks fly between two leads of a new hit show, is there a happy ending in sight, or will their own mistakes overshadow any chance they had at something worth fighting for.

Rated: Explicit    

Warnings:   This is a joyfully Captain Swan story, but there are a few warnings. It does start with Emma/Neal and Killian/Milah. I don't write non-CS, so there won't be any sexual anything happening 'on screen', so to speak, between those couples, but I won't guarantee there may not be a mention. This story contains numerous episodes of cheating. If any of these things make you squick or are not your bag, carry on.

AO3 - FF 

- or read below the cut - 

As always, let me know if you’d like to be tagged for further updates. 

Tag list: @xarandomdreamx @jrob64 @wefoundloveunderthelight @teamhook @tiganasummertree @pirateprincessofpizza @lfh1226-linda @kmomof4 

Chapter One

Emma scrolled through the email her manager had sent detailing the new role she was being offered. It was something fresh, something different from what she normally focused on—no hint of a police procedural in sight—and based on the tone, it sounded like they were very interested in getting her signed for one of the leads. She stretched her legs out along the couch, digging her cold toes underneath the pillows in search of some warmth, only to yank them back when she encountered something both crinkly and wet.

“Dammit, Neal! What the hell is this?” she growled, glaring at the brown sludge coating her foot.

She leaned forward, careful to angle her toes away from any other surface, and peeled the throw pillow from the couch. Smeared across the white fabric and the expensive leather was what looked like the remainder of a milky way bar, the wrapper still clinging to the puddle of caramel and chocolate.

“You have got to be kidding me. Neal!”

The only response she got was the sound of something hitting a pan full of oil in the kitchen, the apartment filled with the sizzling hiss of something frying. Dropping her phone and forgetting all about the email she’d just been reading, she hobbled down the hall into the bathroom to clean up, wondering how in the hell to get out a chocolate and caramel stain. Why he couldn’t just learn to clean up after himself was beyond understanding. Sometimes it felt like she was living with a teenager who never wanted to grow up, and she couldn’t help but long for the days when her apartment was clean and didn’t smell like whatever weird odor it was that Neal always brought home—grease and cigarette smoke, maybe.

Her foot finally clean enough to be walked on, she headed into the kitchen to get some paper towels only to be greeted by what looked like every dish she owned spread out on the counters and island. Every surface was dusted in flour and drips of batter, measuring spoons leaving trails of oil and sugar across the floor and counters alike.

“Oh my god,” she cringed, knowing the mess would be left for her. “What are you doing?”

“I was wondering when you’d get off the phone,” Neal poked, giving her a quick glance over his shoulder before motioning proudly over the mess that just seemed to get worse each time she looked at it. “I’m cooking.”

The casual way he always stabbed at her phone use was exactly what she didn’t want to hear right now. Maybe she wouldn’t have to spend so much time working if he bothered looking for something himself. He’d had a recurring role on a family comedy when they met, but he’d been fired not long after, and for the last six months, Emma was pretty sure he hadn’t even gone to any of the auditions she’d mentioned. In fact, she wasn’t even sure if he had an agent anymore. 

“When was the last time you had a Milky Way?” she asked, choosing to ignore his snide comment. She just wasn’t in the mood.

“That’s a weird question. I don’t know, maybe last week? You didn’t pick any up the last time you ran to the store.”

Emma nodded, her lips drawn tight as she tore paper towels from the rack and returned to the living room, pulling what she could of the melted mass from the couch and thinking she’d need to resort to Google to get the rest out. Her anger bubbled with every sticky string of caramel that wrapped around her fingers. Why couldn’t he go to the store on his day off? He only had seven of them. She stomped back into the kitchen, hitting the garbage can a little harder than necessary and tossing the mess of chocolate and paper inside.

There was just enough room in the overload sink—what had he used the colander for—that she could wash her hands.

“There’s leftovers in the fridge. What was so important that you had to turn the entire kitchen into a complete disaster?” she questioned, already adding up how much time it would take her to wash and wipe everything down.

She’d be lucky if she was able to get back to her manager before tomorrow as requested.

“You remember that travel show we watched the other night?” he prodded, his eyes glued to the pan as it hissed on the stovetop, a spatula held ready in his hand. “You mentioned you hadn’t had good churros since that trip to Mexico, so I thought maybe I’d make you some.”

The anger that had been just about to boil over slipped away to that place far enough below everything else that she could just go back to ignoring it.  

“Neal,” she sighed, suddenly more exhausted than anything else. “Thanks.”

“Of course, Ems—anything for you.”

In the living room her phone blared to life, the dark tones of The Imperial March echoing as it vibrated across the coffee table.

“Work calls,” Neal sniped, a trace of resentment running beneath the pleasant smile he fixed in her direction. “Wouldn’t want to keep Regina waiting.”

It was amazing how quickly that anger came right back to the top of everything, and she found her feet pushing her as far away from Neal as possible, snatching her phone from the table and forgetting entirely about the couch as she stormed into the bedroom.

“What?” she hissed, slamming the door behind her and clenching the cell like it was something she wanted to crush. “What is so important that you couldn’t give me a few more hours, Regina?”

The other end of the line was silent, as if Regina had either hung up, or was waiting for an apology. Well, she wasn’t getting one—not today.

“Is there something you needed, Regina?”

“Are you okay?” Regina asked, not as a friend, but as an employee that was curious to know how soon she would have to contact Emma’s PR team and inform them a mental breakdown was imminent.

“I’m fine. It’s just a bad time. I got the details you sent. I just haven’t read through everything yet.”

“Well, that explains why I haven’t heard from you. Honestly, I thought you cared more about your career than that. I was quite clear this was urgent. Don’t take your time with this one, Miss Swan—they want you, but they can’t wait much longer.”

The line went dead after Regina had delivered her scolding and Emma sighed, dropping to the bed and rolling onto her back as she flicked back into her email and started again from the top. It was an interesting premise with even more depth than she’d originally thought—a new series that centered on the mental health of a man who had developed delusions after a car accident that took his brother, leading him to believe everyone in the hospital was a character from a fairy tale world—but then she got the part that Regina really focused on, the money.

“Holy shit!” Emma gasped, double checking the figures and thinking how she’d never seen such a good offer—not for someone in her bracket. It was unheard of. “I guess they really do want me.”

It wasn’t until she read through the rest of the itinerary and details that she wondered if the big paycheck wasn’t recompense for the filming location and duration—the middle of Nowhere, Maine, as if Maine wasn’t already considered the middle of nowhere.

She read everything twice before she shot Regina a quick text.  

E: I’ll take it

The message had only just sent and there were already three ellipses following. Emma could practically hear her manager’s smug response.

R: I knew you would. I’ll be in touch.

There should have been nerves fluttering in her stomach, or at least a solid pit of dread at the prospect of having to walk into the kitchen and tell Neal, but there was nothing. It was a big decision to move across the country for what could be a long-term role, but it was still her decision to make.

Hopefully, he would be happy for her, he would understand that this had the potential of lifting her out of her rut and providing great income for the foreseeable future. There were some great names attached, veterans of the industry that were looking to branch out into a new genre.

She was excited for the first time in a long time.  

She didn’t need to feel guilty, at least that was what she told herself as a niggling pang of guilt worked its way into her chest.

It would be good to break it to him gently though, to put a good spin on it.

The minutes ticked by and she finally realizing she couldn’t put it off any longer, she wandered into the kitchen, her arms crossed in front of her as she looked for him, but the apartment was empty. The stove was turned off and a plate, probably the last clean one, was waiting on the counter with a pile of golden churros perched on top of a greasy paper towel.

Next to it was another torn paper towel with a note scratched onto it in sharpie.

The boys called and I’m heading out for a few beers. Don’t wait up. Enjoy the churros.

She waited for the anger to bubble back to the top, but there was nothing—no anger, no guilt, just a deep, hollow nothingness that grew and yawned as she fingered the scrap of a note transparent with oily fingerprints. Feeling like maybe this job had come at the best possible time, she picked up the plate of churros and walked over to the trash, watching them slide in with the rest of the garbage.

[slapshot-to-the-heart]

Breakable Heaven (pt. III) - p.l. dubois

Part I II

Here’s part III! One more part after this, then we’re going to be finishing up our time with Laurel and Pierre-Luc. It’s seriously been so so much fun writing this over the past few weeks, and I’m excited to get to keep the story going. Many many thanks to @hockeyboysiguess for being a great sounding board for Breakable Heaven so far, my favorite response of hers to anything I’ve sent has got to be “that’s rude.” So, enjoy! Reblog if you enjoy it, come scream into my inbox, and I still read every tag!

Part III

July 10 (sat)

Laurel was exhausted. Two hours after the wedding, her and her meager bridal party had shown up to her house, piling everything she hadn’t yet brought over to Pierre’s apartment into her SUV and Madeline’s white sedan. She left her old apartment with the keys at the front office and one last wistful look into the place that had once been her own. She’d miss it, she thought, as she and Pierre drove down the Ville-Marie Expressway towards his apartment, her fingers still trying to get used to the feeling of having rings on it. She’d only lived in the space for a year, but it was in that building that she started her dream job, that space that she adopted her dog, that apartment where she met one of her best friends and that place where she got married. 

They had spent a few hours half-heartedly unpacking her boxes; Laurel was excited to get settled in, but she was also the world’s worst procrastinator and even at 6 PM, all that she had managed to get done was folding some clothes and adding her book collection to the shelves in the living room. Pierre poked his head into the spare room — her room? — rolling his eyes when he saw her “progress.” “I was going to order in, what do you feel like?” 

Laurel hung up a blazer in the closet. “Pizza?” she asked hopefully. “Though I’m really going to have to teach you to cook one of these days. We can’t survive off of take-out and pasta alone.” 

“If that’s how you want to be,” he responded good-naturedly. “I’ll have you know that I can cook more than pasta, though.”

“Really?” Laurel asked, raising her eyebrows. “What’s the Chef Dubois specialty?” 

“I make a mean salmon,” he replied, before returning to the living room. That was another thing she had to get used to quickly as soon as they started going through the marriage process: Québec didn’t allow for women to take their husbands’ names at marriage. It wasn’t something she’d ever thought too deeply about, but Laurel supposed she’d always assumed that she’d take her husband’s name when she got married. But then again, she always assumed she’d get married under normal circumstances. Her parents aside, Cloquet wasn’t an absurdly conservative town, but it was still certainly something of an anomaly for a married woman to still have her maiden name. Which is what she was now. A married woman. Oh God. 

--

Pizza with white wine may not have been the most conventional choice, but it got the job done, Laurel thought as she lay in bed at half past midnight, the birds outside her door insisting on making her efforts to fall asleep as futile as her efforts to ignore them. She’d already been in bed for an hour; after dinner, her and Pierre watched a few episodes of Black Mirror — also probably not the best choice to do before bed, but oh well — before he wished her a good night’s sleep. She had taken a melatonin and drank a cup of tea before bed, put on a playlist full of rain noises, but nothing seemed to be working. Maybe it was because it was the first night in a new place, or the birds outside, or just the craziness and excitement of the day catching up to her. 

Laurel felt like a child again as she padded over to Pierre’s room, like she was five and back in Minnesota, crawling into her parents’ bed after hearing a wolf howl somewhere on the property. But really, she didn’t really care what she had to do if it meant she could get a good night’s rest. She knocked lightly on his door, careful not to wake up the dogs, who had long since fallen asleep in a corner of the living room. “Mmm?” he answered. She turned the doorknob. God, I hope I didn’t wake him up. She didn’t, as it would turn out; Pierre was propped up on his headboard, scrolling through his phone as he moved his eyes from his screen to her figure in the doorway. “You good? Everything okay?” 

Laurel shrugged, wiggling her hand. “I don’t know what it is, I tried everything but I’m just not able to get to sleep. I’d try and wait it out, but my sleep cycle will be thrown off for a week if I’m not able to get to bed tonight.”

He moved over from the middle, reaching over to the side of his bed and getting another pillow before throwing back the covers and patting the spot next to him. “C’mere.”

“Are you sure?” Laurel said, furrowing her brow, suddenly very aware of the fact that she was wearing an old t-shirt and panties, leaving very little to the imagination. 

He nodded, putting his phone down on the nightstand, smiling softly at her. “Of course. What’s mine is yours, eh?” That was all it took for Laurel to climb into the right side, claiming it as her own, and throw the duvet over her body. She fell asleep almost instantly. 

---

Laurel woke up to the unmistakable smell of bacon frying and the other side of the bed devoid of Pierre’s sleeping form. She straightened the bed before walking out, where she was greeted by two plates on the breakfast bar, a pot of coffee brewing, and her husband at the stove. 

“I thought you said you couldn’t cook?” Laurel teased, leaning up against the granite countertop. 

“Good morning to you too.” Pierre shrugged. “I hardly think being able to fry an egg and not burn toast qualifies as cooking, but I’ll take what I can get.”

Laurel stepped further into the kitchen, lightly dragging her fingers over his back in a silent thank you as she opened the cupboard. “Let me get the coffee, at least,” she said, grabbing two mugs off the shelf and the creamer out of the fridge. “How do you take yours?” Laurel asked, glancing at Pierre from the side as he buttered the toast. 

“A little bit of cream, more sugar,” he replied, sliding the plates onto the bar as she handed him his mug. “Perfect,” he said, smiling. A few minutes into breakfast, with Laurel just about to crunch into her second piece of toast, he spoke again. “So, I was thinking…”

She nodded. “I should hope so?”

Pierre laughed, ducking his head. “I was going to post something about the wedding today, online and stuff, but wanted to check with you first.” They had spoken about it once or twice before the wedding, both of them knew that it wasn’t practical nor honest to think that they’d be able to keep the news from everyone over the entire duration of their temporary marriage. And part of the “sell,” part of what she needed to prove, was that their relationship was real. And real would mean posting about each other online, real would mean flying down a few times a month — thank God her schedule gave her a long weekend, and thank God the flight wasn’t too long  — for games and galas and real would mean meeting his friends and him meeting her family and Laurel had to stop thinking about it all before her head exploded. 

“Go for it,” she said. “I don’t like having to hide from it any more than you do, so it’ll be a relief to let everyone know, give a heads-up to the four people on my Instagram page who actually care about my life. 

Pierre poked her arm. “Five, now.” He opened his phone, scrolling through the pictures Madeline had sent from yesterday. She had run a small side business doing photography in university, and insisted on taking their photos as a wedding present. “You deserve something beautiful to look back on,” she had said. The final book wouldn’t be done for a few weeks, but she had sent over the raw shots the night before. “What about this one?” He leaned over to show her. Their foreheads were touching, his arms wrapped around her waist as they stood in the middle of one of Vieux Port’s cobblestone side streets. Laurel’s fingers brushed the back of his neck, her other hand loosely holding her bouquet. If you didn’t know, they looked like a real couple. They looked like they were in love. 

“It’s gorgeous,” Laurel murmured softly. “I knew Madeline was talented, but wow. She outdid herself.”

Pierre nodded in agreement. “She did. I know I already told you, but you really did look incredible.” Laurel’s cheeks burned; she raised her mug to her lips, hopeful the oversized ceramic would cover enough of her face that he couldn’t see the effect his words had had on her. Laurel opened her own phone, scrolling through to find the matching photo. A few minutes later, he handed her his phone and she passed hers, giving their captions one last once-over before giving up their secret. Her eyes flitted across the screen.

Yesterday, I had the incredible fortune of marrying @laurel.klerken, the best person I’ve ever had the fortune of loving. I know it might come as a shock, and that we’ve kept our relationship under wraps since realizing after years of being friends that friendship just wasn’t enough any more, but this wasn’t a decision that either of us made lightly. Laurel, you’re an amazing woman, and even though it’s only been a day, an amazing wife. Whether it’s for your patients, your friends, or me, you make everyone around you feel warm, safe, and cared for beyond measure. You have a sharp wit and an even sharper mind, and I have endless admiration for how committed you are for standing up for what’s right, even when it’s not popular and even if it’s gotten you in trouble once or twice. Marriage is a partnership and a journey, and I’ve never been so excited to start a new adventure. 

Laurel sniffed, not even noticing the tears pricking her eyes until Pierre handed her a tissue. “Thanks,” she murmured. “You don’t think you’re laying it on a little thick, though?”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “Not at all.” One tap later, and it was posted. Three minutes later, his phone rang as they were doing the breakfast dishes. Cap ❤️ flashed across the screen. Pierre grimaced. “It’s the captain. I should probably answer this one,” he said, pressing the speaker button as he dried his hands on a spare towel. 

“You’re married,” Nick Foligno said, wasting no time. “Is this a fucking joke?” Laurel more than understood his apprehension, but the words still stung. 

“Yes I am,” Pierre said slowly, “and no, it’s not a joke. Laurel and I are legally married in the province of Québec.”

She could hear a labored breath from the other line, followed by an airy laugh. “What the hell, man?”

Nick was ultimately happy for them, and after being introduced to Laurel after they switched the call over to FaceTime he apologized for his reaction, but Laurel waved him off. “You’re just looking out for your boy is all. I’d do the same.” 

Nick nodded. “Take care of him for us, Laurel. Your address still the same?” He looked over towards Pierre, who hummed his assent. “Janelle and I will send you something. Something useful.”

---

July 28 (wed)

“Something useful” turned out to be a gorgeous set of Wüsthof knives and a stand mixer, the latter of which Laurel was nearly jumping out of her socks with excitement to try. Baking had long since been one of her favorite hobbies and her go-to method of stress relief; while she was grateful for the arm muscles her years of having to hand mix everything had given her, she wasn’t going to miss the extra effort. So Laurel Klerken was taking full advantage of her new toy. She had gone down to the Jean-Talon market in the morning, which was quickly becoming one of her favorite weekly activities. Especially with Pierre around to help her, she was learning to shift her speaking into the Québecois dialect, and her French was good enough to order from the vendors in their language and be understood. In her book, that was a win. The peak of summer meant it was berry season in Montréal, which meant it was time for Laurel to break out her nana’s blueberry oatmeal muffin recipe. And chocolate chip walnut cookies. And a French apple tart. Okay, so maybe she went a little bit overboard, but they had their desserts for the week and it made the kitchen smell so good. 

Pierre opened the door just as Laurel was pulling out the last pan of cookies, walking around the corner into the kitchen and raising his eyebrows at the view. She looked over at him. “You going to complain about your wife’s baking when you’re the primary beneficiary?” she asked, challenging him with a playful smile on his face. 

Pierre held his hands up in surrender, holding the mail between two fingers. “No.” He picked one of the cookies off of the cooling rack, taking a bite. “Definitely not.” 

Laurel nodded towards the mail, walking over to the sink to wash her hands. “What came in the mail?”

“Nothing much,” he said, shrugging. “Just a little letter from IRCC.”

Her eyes lit up. “Immigration finally got back? Did they send my card?”

Pierre nodded, handing her the envelope. It barely took five seconds for her to rip it open. “You, Laurel Elizabeth Klerken, are now officially a permanent resident of Canada. Congrats, babe.”

Laurel squeaked in excitement, dancing around in the kitchen , the holographic detailing on the card catching the glow of the late-afternoon light. She threw her arms around Pierre, giving him a kiss on the cheek that was just barely off to the side of his lips. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she said breathlessly. 

“Don’t mention it.”

She pulled back, still smiling. “No, ‘don’t mention it’ is for when you bring home dinner without being asked, or take a drunk friend home from the bar. Not for things like this,” she said, wiggling her card. “This is everything to me, P. I get to stay in the city that I love, I get to stay at the job that I love. I get to —” She looked down, eyes widening. “I can finally get a health card!”

Pierre let out a laugh. “Out of everything, you’re most excited about that?” Being a dual citizen who lived in the U.S. for the better part of the year, Pierre understood the absolute chasm of accessibility that separated the American and Canadian health insurance systems better than most, but he still looked at his wife’s choice with incredulity. 

“Of course it is,” Laurel said, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. She still had insurance purchased through her work, but the fact that now it was so much easier and official and came out of her taxes instead of having to try and navigate the bureaucratic system of forms and checks and private insurance companies made it so much easier. “It’s just nice to finally be a part of a system that acknowledges healthcare as the human right it is. That’s another thing about how it works in the U.S., it’s tied to employment a lot of the time so it’s not always a guarantee.” 

She gave a tense smile, leaning back against the counter. “I might seem a little worked up about it, but that’s because I am. Uh,” she paused, eyes flickering up towards the chrome-plated track lighting, “my dad lost his job when I was a kid. He was a foreman at a construction company, but then the recession hit in ‘08 and he was laid off.  We lost our insurance. Maggie and I were able to get on MinnesotaCare, which is the state insurance for low-income families, but our parents didn’t get approved. Not enough money to go around, I guess,” she scoffed. “Unemployment wasn’t paying enough and mom’s job isn’t full-time, so she doesn’t get benefits. Apparently they think healthcare is a benefit.” Laurel took another pause. “And then Dad had a stroke. It wasn’t serious, thank God, but the bills...Maggie was almost graduating high school and headed off to college, and money was tight even before the layoffs. We were able to come up with the money, but only because the community really came together, in a way I had never seen before. I still haven’t seen anything like it since. Bake sales, church fundraisers, garage sales.” The tiniest of smiles played on Laurel’s lips as she looked back up at her husband. “Do you know how much pasta Minnesotans can eat at a spaghetti dinner?” 

“A lot?”

“A whole hell of a lot,” Laurel confirmed. “But anyways. That’s when it became personal to me, and I think it’s why healthcare and access to quality care is still something that I’m still so passionate about and invested in. It’s why I became a nurse.”

Pierre walked over to her carefully, rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb. “It makes absolute sense, Laurel. I know that probably wasn’t easy for you, so thank you for sharing. It means a lot to me that you’re willing to let me in like that.” Laurel wasn’t a cold person by any means; she was one of the kindest and most giving people Pierre had ever met, even in the few months that they’d known each other. But she was someone that could be guarded at times — for very good reason — and it meant the world to him that she was willing to let him chip away her hardened exterior little by little to see the brilliance that lay within. 

She pressed against his side, her head resting on his arm. “You’re my husband. Why wouldn’t I?”

 ---

 Laurel was in the ensuite of her and Pierre’s room, washing her face before going to bed, when she heard her phone vibrate with a text. After that first night, Laurel had made it a habit of sharing a bed; she’d never slept better in her life than the past two and a half weeks, and even though she may have been loath to admit it, waking up to an incredibly attractive man — who was shirtless half of the time — wasn’t something she was about to complain about. “Can you get that for me?” She was expecting a text from her mom, something about confirming her and her dad’s flight times for their visit next week. 

“Laurel?” Pierre called cautiously. 

She turned towards him, patting her face dry. “What? Did their gate get changed or something?”

He shook his head, walking towards her and holding the phone out like it was a bomb. “It’s Maggie.”

Laurel’s mouth immediately went dry. “M-Maggie?” She took the phone, staring at the screen, open to the text. 

“Do you want to talk to her? You don’t have to if you’re not feeling up to it,” Pierre said, searching her face for any semblance of apprehension. As far as he knew, she hadn’t talked to her sister in years, and he didn’t know why that was suddenly about to change. 

She shook her head. “No, it’s fine. I just...I have no idea what she wants. Why, after three years, is she finally deciding that she wants to be a part of my life again?” She looked down at her phone. 

So, I had to hear it through the Cloquet grapevine that you got married?? What’s that about, L? Maggie wrote. Laurel pinched the bridge of her nose, sighing. The gossip train in her hometown was second to none; to be honest, she was a little bit surprised it even took her older sister this long to hear about it. She was already enough of an anomaly. Less than a quarter of her city had a college degree, even fewer left the state to do it, so her going to Toronto for university was practically unfathomable — even if it was closer than Texas, where her second-choice school was. So, needless to say, she was a frequent headline in the Cloquet rumor mill. She had heard it all. That she had run off to Canada to escape a high school sweetheart turned sour, that she had cut off all ties with her family, that she had shaved half of her head and dyed her eyebrows bright pink. The last one actually had some truth to it, but it was just the eyebrows and she was a drunk 20-year-old, and at least she didn’t get a tattoo of the Maple Leafs logo on her thigh like her friend Ethan. 

But this one wasn’t a rumor, and if nothing else, Maggie deserved to know that much. Not much to say. It’s true, if that’s what you were wondering. 

Why didn’t you tell me? Why did I have to find out third-hand?

Laurel rolled her eyes, sitting down with a huff on the edge of their bed. Not to be harsh, Maggie, but it’s not like you’ve wanted to be that invested in my life since you left home. How was I supposed to know if this was even your number any more? I don’t even know what country you’re in right now. 

Her response was almost immediate. I’m working at a hostel in Tokyo. But seriously? I know we haven’t been super close the past few years, but I’m still your sister, and I would have thought you’d tell me about something like this. Getting married is big. You don’t think you’re still a little young? Have you even finished school yet?

I graduated last year, I’ve been working at a hospital in Montréal for over a year, Maggie. And I know it’s a little early, but Pierre-Luc and I are happy. I love him, and he’s a good man and respects the hell out of me. I don’t really need anything else. 

It was a few minutes before her next text came through, this time in all caps. YOU MARRIED A FUCKING NHLER? Laurel grew up knowing hockey, obviously; you couldn’t really live in Minnesota and not, and she wasn’t even a half-bad skater herself, but Maggie had always been the more dedicated of the sisters. She’d been the one who was always begging their dad to make the two-hour drive to St. Paul for a Wild game. Even when money was tight, Doug always found a way to scrape up enough for the tickets as her birthday present in January. 

Denise from church didn’t tell you?

All she said was that it was some hot French-Canadian guy, and mom said you moved to Quebec, so I thought it could be any number. Fair enough.

Denise seriously called him hot?

Laurel could imagine her sister rolling her eyes all the way in Japan. Okay, fine, she didn’t say hot. But like...am I wrong? 

For the first time in a long time, her sister made her laugh. Yeah, okay. He’s hot. I’m very aware that my husband is a class-A babe. 

“You think I’m hot?” Pierre said, peeking over her shoulder and wiggling his eyebrows. 

Laurel’s cheeks heated. “Yes, okay. I think you’re very attractive. Happy?” 

“Very,” he responded. “I’m glad my wife thinks I’m hot. The feeling’s mutual,” he said before walking into the bathroom to brush his teeth, leaving her even more flustered than before. She turned back to her conversation with Maggie. My shift is about to start, so I’ve got to go. But I’m happy for you, L. I really am. You’ve done exactly what you want with your life, and I couldn’t be more proud. 

Laurel’s finger traced the words on the screen, a small smile on her face as Pierre came back into the room, throwing back the sheets. She plugged her phone into its charger, turning it face-down onto the nightstand. Things weren’t perfect between her and Maggie; far from it. One conversation over text wasn’t going to change that. But maybe, just maybe, there was still something there that was worth saving. After flicking off the lights, the last thing she remembered before falling asleep was the feeling of Pierre snaking his arm around her waist, pulling her to rest her back up against his chest. And Laurel let him. 

August 17 (tues 

It had been one of the worst days of Laurel’s life, and she wasn’t one for dramatics. Certainly the worst shift of her career. She knew when she chose to work in a pediatric intensive care unit, that it wasn’t going to be all sunshine and rainbows. If she wanted sunshine and rainbows, she would have gone with something less taxing. Something like dermatology, or working in a pediatrician’s office, or being a school nurse. God knows she could hand out ice packs and tampons. But no, she had to pick critical care, and critical care with children, one of the most emotionally and mentally taxing areas in the entire healthcare field. She saw the highest highs, the incredible moments when a three-year-old girl with a brain hemorrhage was able to get home, or a twelve-year-old boy finally got a kidney transplant after having been waiting for years. She saw the highest highs, but on days like today, she also saw the lowest lows.  

Laurel carried her scrub top in one hand, her backpack slung over one shoulder, and tried desperately to regulate her breathing as she turned her key in the lock, pushing the door open. No matter how many times she had helped her patients breathe, she never seemed to be able to take her own advice. 

Pierre stood in the kitchen, making a smoothie, but immediately turned off the blender when he saw her face. “What happened?” he asked, gently taking her bag from her and placing it on the floor. 

Laurel collapsed into his arms almost instantly. “T-there was a little girl who c-came in yesterday from a car crash, and it was pretty b-bad, but she made it through the night and everyone thought she’d b-be fine,” she hiccuped, “but then right at the end of m-my shift she started coughing up b-blood and she was crashing, so I tried to do CPR until the t-team got there, but it didn’t work and we…” Laurel trailed off, sobbing, gripping the back of Pierre’s shirt like a lifeline. “We lost her, P. And the doctor on call was tied up with another patient, so I had to notify the family, and God, it was the worst thing I’ve ever had to do. She was only seven.” She looked down at her scrub top. “I have to go throw this in the washing machine before the stain sets.” 

Pierre pulled back slightly, gently taking the navy shirt from her, giving a kiss on her forehead. “I’ll do it. You need to rest. Take a shower, or a bath, get into some comfortable clothes. I’ll take care of dinner.” 

It was almost forty-five minutes later when Laurel finally emerged from the bathroom, clad in high school sweats and a faded Blue Jackets t-shirt. “I hope you didn’t mind that I took this one,” she said, picking at a loose thread on the bottom hem, “I hadn’t gotten to laundry yet this week.”

“It’s fine, Laur,” Pierre said, plating chicken stir-fry and rice. Cooking together had become one of their things; Pierre certainly wasn’t as hopeless as some people she had met, and he was right that he made an excellent salmon. But they couldn’t eat fish every day of the week, so Laurel broke out one of her few cookbooks and they had been making their way through the recipes together. They had finished breakfast and were making their way through poultry. Hence, chicken stir-fry. “You look better in it anyways.”

They ate in silence, her half-heartedly picking up forkfuls of rice only to put them down again. She smiled weakly at Pierre. “The food’s good, I swear. I just don’t have much of an appetite tonight.”

“I get that,” he said. “How about I put this in away in the fridge and you can get a yogurt or something? You don’t have to have a full meal, but you should eat something. We can watch something after, or you can go to bed if you’re not feeling up to it. Your call.”

“TV sounds nice, do you still have the old Parks & Rec recorded?” Laurel needed something she didn’t need to pay attention to, something that could just be background noise as she tried to sift through the emotions of her day and try to make sense of it all. 

He nodded. “Wouldn’t get rid of it before asking, I know how much you love it.”

They were curled up on the couch together a few minutes later, a striped blanket thrown over Laurel’s lap despite the weather outside still lingering in the mid 70s. It wasn’t for warmth, not really; it was for comfort. Pierre’s arm was slung over her back, his thumb absentmindedly moving across her upper arm. She leaned into his touch, hardly paying attention to the show. “Do you want to talk about it?” Pierre murmured, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. “You don’t have to, but it might help.” He wasn’t an expert by any means, but Pierre obviously knew that people died in hospitals, in intensive care units even more so. Which meant that there was an almost surefire chance that she had had people die on her watch, die on her shift. Had children die on her watch. And that didn’t mean she was a bad nurse or a bad person, but just that sometimes there were illnesses and injuries so severe that even the best medical care in the province couldn’t save them. So why was this one impacting her so intensely? Had she reacted this way before, with Madeline or her coworkers, and he just hadn’t seen it before? Or was there something different about this case, about that girl that made it hit closer to home for some reason?

Laurel took a shaky breath. “I know you’re right, that it’s not healthy to keep it all bottled up inside. But that’s what I’m used to, you know? I love my job, I do, but you have to compartmentalize sometimes. With this one, it’s just…” She searched for the right words. “It was so immediate, so in front of me, that I didn’t have any time to reach beyond trying to save her life. I didn’t think, I just went based on instinct and training. And she still died.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Laurel,” Pierre said firmly. “You did everything you could, you did everything right.”

“I know that,” she sniffed, “but it’s so hard to believe sometimes. That if I had gotten there a few seconds sooner, or if the crash team had been a little earlier, she might have survived. And I wouldn’t have had to tell a mother and father that their daughter was dead.” Pierre felt terrible, like there was nothing he could do, because there was nothing he could do, not apart from sit and listen. “I think it was different this time because I finally saw myself in their shoes, I obviously don’t have kids, not yet, but I imagined what it was like to have to be on the receiving end of that news, and it tore me apart, P.” Her voice cracked, and his heart broke. “Being the mom to a beautiful child and then all of the sudden having them all of the sudden stripped away? No longer living? I know that life’s not fair, but fuck, I thought I thought it would be a little better than this.” 

Her voice went silent, and Pierre took the opportunity to speak. “It’s not fair, and I think part of what makes you so good at what you do is the fact that you recognize that. You’re so dedicated to giving everyone that comes through those doors the best care, because you genuinely believe that they deserve it. And that’s incredible. You don’t get complacent, you’re never satisfied with just doing things adequately and just enough to get by. You give everything 110%, and that’s how I know the kind of incredible person you are.” He paused. “And I think every parent worries about their kid getting sick, or getting hurt. I know mine did, and I’d be willing to bet yours were the same way. Worrying means you care. And you care the most deeply, the most genuinely, out of anyone I’ve ever met. And I know, when the time comes, that you’ll make an amazing mother. Whoever gets to do that with you will be a lucky man.”

“You really think so?”

Pierre slipped his hand into hers. “Positive.”

September 10 (fri)

Laurel’s fingers tapped nervously on the counter as she waited for Pierre to bring the last of his bags from the bedroom. He didn’t usually schlep a ton of things back-and-forth from Montréal to Columbus every time he needed to travel, but his ticket came with two free checked bags and if there was one thing Pierre-Luc Dubois was, it was efficient. It was the middle of September, and that meant training camps. That meant leaving Québec. That meant Ohio. That meant not seeing Pierre for weeks at a time, when the longest they had been apart since July was a two-day trip to Québec City Laurel took with her parents when they visited in August. Over the past two months, they had settled into a routine, and that routine was about to be broken. Grocery shopping, him washing the dishes while she dried, falling asleep together and waking up with legs tangled in the middle of the bed. She knew that he liked his coffee with a little bit of cream and more sugar, that Georgia got fussy if she wasn’t let out in the morning but Paul was more of a night owl, that dessert wasn’t supposed to be on his meal plan every day but that she could always get him to break for a slice of peach pie. He knew that she needed two Advil on the first day of her period because one just wouldn’t cut it, that her favorite Disney princess was Jasmine because of her independence, and that she liked to light lavender candles when she was stressed. 

Pierre wheeled a bag out of the doorway. “That the last one?” Laurel asked, passing Phil’s leash to him as she held Georgia’s. He nodded. She spun her keys around on her finger. “Got both of your passports?” 

Pierre patted his jacket pocket.  “Right here.” It was easier for him; he could skip the wait in both countries. Exit Canada with the Canadian, enter the U.S. with the American.

It was 2 and his flight wasn’t until 4:15, but Laurel didn’t trust the traffic and she didn’t trust the wait times at the airport. “Guess we should get going then.”

“Guess we should.” Laurel grabbed one bag and he got the other, slinging his backpack over his shoulder and wheeling it out the door. It only took twenty minutes to get to the airport. Laurel pulled up next to the curb, double-checking the signs to make sure she wasn’t about to get fined for stopping, and put the car into park. Pierre was the first to open his door, grabbing both the dogs; Laurel followed suit a moment later.

“You’ve got to pop the trunk, babe,” Pierre murmured. He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

“Oh, right,” she said, pressing the button on her key. It popped open with a telltale click; Pierre hefted out the black bag, she got the silver one. “Do you know how many people are going to have this exact bag? It’s going to be a nightmare at baggage claim, P” Laurel tried to joke. She always coped with humor. 

Pierre laughed, this time a real one. “Fair enough. Guess I’ve got a lot riding on my luggage tags,” he said, flicking one of the offending objects around the handle of the bag, the black one. Laurel handed him the other handle, their fingers brushing as he gripped the metal. He put a finger under her chin, tilting her head to look up at him. He could see the apprehension in her eyes. There were a lot of things that Laurel Klerken did well, really well, but lying was never one of them. She was always an open book. “Hey, don’t look so down, Laur,” he said softly. “I know you’ll be missing your personal space heater and Piper will miss her siblings, but you’re coming to visit in two weeks and it’s going to be amazing. I’ll introduce you to the boys and the other wives, you’ll get to catch one of the preseason games, finally see my place in Columbus. It might be weird being alone for a while, but —” He cut himself off. “Scratch that, it will be weird for a while, for both of us, but we’ll get through it. You’re a great person, and not a terrible wife either. People have done long-distance relationships that were longer distances for more time, and they made it through just fine. You’ll be okay, Laur. We’ll be okay.”

Laurel took an unsteady breath, trying her best to put on a brave face. “Not a terrible wife, huh? Well, you’re not half a bad husband either.” As she spoke, she was thinking over his words. How normal they sounded, but how abnormal that was for them. They weren’t a normal couple, all they really were were friends who got married — right? So why was he saying those things, things that made him seem like a real husband talking to his real wife, things that were making her feel that maybe, just maybe, this marriage wasn’t as much of a hoax as the thought it was? And it was only because of that, only because she was either reading way too much into a situation that wasn’t even there or was the premier of reading people’s body language and being able to parse out their unsaid words, that she did what she did next. She threw her arms around her husband, and she kissed him.

[chenoehi]

Thoughts on Ep. 15: Koga, Moroha, Zero, Riku, and Kirinmaru

First, now that good boy Koga is back in the game, a fun theory/headcanon I’ve had is that Moroha’s sword is actually Koga’s sword—you know the one he always carries around but never uses? They look the same as far as I can tell, and I noticed that immediately in addition to the other hints she was raised by the wolves (which I think most of us suspected, but it’s lovely to have it confirmed). That or the sword came from the wolf tribe at least, it resembles the kind of sword Ayame has, too. With the confirmation of Ep. 15 this theory is now becoming more likely.

Also, I just have to say that as devastating as it is that Kagome and Inuyasha did not get to raise their daughter and that they felt betrayed by Sesshomaru after coming to trust him (I absolutely believe he is helping them, not hurting them), it is comforting knowing that Koga had a hand in raising their daughter. He loved Kagome and treated well, having so much affection and respect for her by the end. He even showed some compassion for Inuyasha (in his own way). You can say he became their friend rather than simply being their ally. The fact that they trusted him to protect their child speaks volumes. And did you see how proud he looked when Hachi brought her to the tribe? Moroha is not his child but you know he will treat her like one. We don’t know the details yet of who raised her exactly or how she came to be separated from the wolves, but I have full confidence that Ayame and Koga treat Moroha like their own.

I know some people are sad that Miroku and Sango did not raise her, but knowing the threat against her and that their human friends already had a young family to take care of, it makes sense they would want to hide her away. And although it would have been perfect if Moroha could have lived in the barrier and been safe with her cousins (and possibly Rin), but again we’re not sure of the details yet.

Obviously, Inuyasha knew of the threat against Moroha’s life from Kagome who learned about it from Riku (a comment on that in a minute). I think the swiftness of everything and Moroha’s being sent away rather than being protected behind a barrier like the twins may be due to how immediate the threat became once Kirinmaru was awoken.

What’s unclear is 1. how long after Moroha’s birth is she whisked away? 2. why did they go somewhere specific to confront the maru bros and send their child away? 3. why would they delay sending her away in the first place (they had to with Kagome being there, and also Moroha’s hair is a little longer than the twins at birth so maybe this indicates it wasn’t immediate, or maybe not)? 4. if they delayed sending her because they just found out Kirinmaru had been awoken (by Zero) then who told them? Sesshomaru? 5. if so, did Sesshomaru tell them he had a plan or ask them to trust him while also explaining where to meet and that they needed to send Moroha away? 6. did Koga and co. know that Moroha was coming to them? They don’t seem very surprised, mostly just happy/pleased to see her, but also like they were expecting her. I don’t know how they would have gotten a message to them, but maybe they sent word to the wolves alerting them to the danger and the possibility that they may have to send Moroha away, Koga may have agreed to care for her, and when the time came to follow through they already knew to expect her.

Riku though...

Oh Riku. Seriously what the fuck. I thought I knew where this was going but..I’m trying to justify how Riku is introduced the same episode that we see Kirinmaru in the flesh. They are both shown eating grapes in their introductory scene. They both spit said grapes out and make some similar comments, showing that they have similar ideals and mannerisms (even if it is just grapes we’re talking about). They both are associated with water. They both are on boats a lot. Riku is referred to as a pirate washed up on shore or lost, trying to find his ship, etc. All the characters (human and demon) refer to him as lord or -sama. Kyuki (a peril) knew him. He has a personal grudge against the perils. The perils serve Kirinmaru. They both have green eyes (not a human eye color in feudal era Japan or even modern day Japan). They both have red hair (same comment). Riku is clearly shown to have some control over the pearls or ability to use them that might possibly exist in tandem with other abilities he possesses.

Riku also kind of just revealed himself to be something other than human in Ep. 15 when he commented that 18 years passing was nothing to him as we see visibly that he has the same appearance in present day as he had the year that the cousins were born. Could be that he means time itself means nothing to him because he can travel through time but that’s still unclear. Conclusion is that Riku is Kirinmaru’s hanyo child as he’s clearly not human but does not appear to be full demon either and has obvious visual connections to both Kirinmaru and Zero.

BUT. Kirinmaru doesn’t appear to have any love of humans like his doggy counterparts. He practically looks like he’s about to have a stroke when he hears that Sesshomaru married a human and sired hanyo heirs. It’s hard to imagine that person has a hanyo child floating around who everyone is aware of. However, he does seem to be contemplating something beyond what Zero is telling him and if he does have a hanyo child then he could be realizing that he potentially created a being that will kill him.

Another thing that is bothering me is how Riku warned Kagome. Obviously everything about that and Riku himself is shady af and we have no idea what’s going on yet, but what’s interesting to me is that Kirinmaru doesn’t realize that hanyous are a threat to him until Zero points it out—which is months after the comet when Moroha is born. Of course, this is all assuming that the moment Kirinmaru is awoken by Zero comes after Moroha has been born and not before. It is possible that Zero awoke Kirinmaru immediately after the twins were born and that Kirinmaru spent some time plotting but that’s kind of illogical. Why wait to kill a child until after it’s born if you can just kill the mother? Which then makes it even more sus that Zero waits to wake him up and tell him this. It’s also sus how Zero warns Sesshomaru of the threat on his daughters’ lives (the threat she’s making) only to send Jokka after them as a pawn before biding her time until after Moroha is born to then conveniently and casually point out to her brother that all half and quarter demons are a threat to him.

Zero’s movements make little sense until we have a better understanding of what’s motivating her and why the timing of everything was so important. I’m not leaving the possibility of her betraying Kirinmaru off the table honestly. Something’s not right. I have this feeling that Kirinmaru is just being used. I know he’s still supposed to be the villain and he does try to kill the girls (eventually) but something is very wrong. And Zero’s comment that she expected Sesshomaru to protect his children with a barrier...if she expected that to happen then why didn’t she attack when it would have been unexpected? Why didn’t she try anything when Rin was still pregnant? Wouldn’t that be devastating to lose your wife and two unborn children? Why the cloak and dagger? It seems that she’s purposefully trying to pit Kirinmaru against Sesshomaru, but she’s also not hiding her hatred of Sesshomaru and his whole family either.

This episode kind of further reinforces the Riku is a time traveler theory because Riku knows Kagome is pregnant when she’s not even showing and he warns her about Kirinmaru although at this time Kirinmaru doesn’t even know hanyous are a threat. In fact, he seems confident that the InuTaisho’s sons took care of the comet. He shows no inclination of wanting Inuyasha dead.

But one thing that’s bothering me is just how shook Kirinmaru is that Sesshomaru has a human wife and hanyo babies. He’s shook shook. Like, blindsided. Everyone but Myoga so far has taken the news with little reaction (to be fair, we’re not sure how the OG gang felt but Kohaku wasn’t in utter disbelief as far as I remember). Maybe that’s just because he knew Sesshomaru for a long time and he really can’t believe it, but I have this feeling we saw his reaction being a bit overblown (and honestly, kind of undignified) for a reason. Something clearly went down between Zero, Toga, Sesshomaru’s mother, and possibly involving Sesshomaru as well. Kirinmaru seemed to have made peace with Toga and he doesn’t appear to be on adversarial terms with his son, but something is wrong. Everything feels very personal, like somehow Sesshomaru marrying a human and siring children with her is an insult to Kirinmaru personally. If he already knew about the hanyo threat by that point it would make sense but no dice, so then why.

Also, if Osamu Kirin is in fact Kirinmaru in human disguise, wouldn’t he save himself a lot of trouble by just killing Towa in the Reiwa period when he had the chance? It’s not like she was hiding her presence, she didn’t even know she was a hanyo. So if that theory is true, did he choose to leave her alone for a reason or has he suffered memory loss? We already know Kirinmaru in the fuedal era was a little off so it’s not a stretch.