#my friend who just moved came back this weekend for a funeral

[florida3exclamationpoints]

:(

[janeyseymour]

Bruises

for @sleep-deprived-athlete 🤍

Summary: you come into Abbott looking like absolute hell. Melissa is worried.

WC: ~2.55k

You really hadn’t meant to get all bruised up at the Rugby game on Saturday- but the sport was tough, and you were by no means a player who would give up a play because you were afraid to get a little scuffed up.

Maybe a little scuffed up was an understatement, if you’re being honest. Your jaw is a beautiful shade of purple and so is your eye thanks to a shoulder to the face, your shoulder is killing you, and the one tumble that you had taken left you with a sore ankle and a bit of a limp.

Still though, being a teacher never stops, and you find yourself dragging your bags and yourself into Abbott bright and early the next Monday. 

Your sitting in the staff room, drinking your coffee and icing your shoulder as you continue to go through your lessons for the last coming months of the school year, when the rest of your friends start to make their way in as one big clump. How they all manage to pull up to the school and walk in together almost everyday without fail is beyond you… actually, you know how. They told you that they all plan to get there at exactly 7:43 to enter the building at 7:45, but you were a stickler for time and an early riser already, so you just came in before everyone else to enjoy the peace and quiet while you had the room to yourself.

“Y/N!” Janine gasps. “What happened to you?” 

“Hm?” You hum as you allow yourself to take your eyes away from your paper for just one second. Only then do you realize that Janine, Gregory, Jacob, Barbara, and Melissa are all standing in front of you with their jaws dropped and looking quite concerned. “Oh, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”

“Sweetheart, forgive me for being blunt, but you look like you went to hell and back,” Barbara states. 

“It looks a lot worse than it is,” you tell her as you avert your eyes back down to the papers in front of you. “I promise you, I’m fine.” You adjust the icepack before wincing slightly at the cool sensation.

Melissa and Barbara share a look before Melissa sighs softly. She digs around in her bag for a second before pulling out her CBD oil. “Move your hair.”

You do so without looking up, not really questioning the instruction. You’re so focused on your lesson plans that you just follow the order without a second thought. You’re shocked though when you feel liquid on your shoulder. “Mel, what?”

“It’s just CBD oil… it’ll help ease the pain,” the redhead tells you. And then her hands are rubbing the oil into your shoulder, and you can’t help but let out a soft groan. Shit… maybe you really should go get your shoulder checked out. 

“Hun, what happened?”

“Just got a little roughed up,” you sigh as her hands continue to massage the sore spot.

That does not help the worried looks that your coworkers are giving you. 

“Guys, I’m fine,” you promise them. “I have to head down to my classroom to do a bit of prep, but I’ll see youse all at lunch.”

As you stand and start to gather your things though, you let out a small hiss in pain at the pressure on your ankle. All of their heads immediately snap in your direction.

“Hun,” Melissa frowns.

You hold up a hand, silently requesting for no further comment on the matter. You limp your way out of the staff lounge and head into your classroom. You thought that you could make it through the day without having to put your ankle brace on, but you were clearly wrong. You’re lacing it up when the redhead makes her way into your room and closes the door.

“What’s going on?” she asks you frankly. 

You just continue to lace up your brace, mildly annoyed that she won’t let it go.

“Mel, I’m fine. Just a little-”

“A little roughed up,” the second grade teacher cuts you off. “I heard you the first time. You don’t get to come in here after a weekend with a shiner that competes with the one Kristen Marie had after her and I squared up after Nonna’s funeral, a bum shoulder, and an ankle brace and get to be mysterious about it. What gives?”

You take a deep breath before meeting her green eyes with your own. “I fell. I’m fine.”

“Fell?” Melissa raises a brow as she folds her arms across her chest. “You don’t get all of your injuries from a fall.”

“Well, I did,” you sigh. “I don’t know what else you want me to say. It’s the truth.”

“Did anyone help you fall?” the redhead asks. “I know you and your girlfriend broke up a couple weeks ago, and if she did this to you-”

“She didn’t do nothin’,” you tell her quickly. “Now please- I have to prep for today.”

“Hun-”

“Melissa,” you grit through your teeth. “Please. I have to prep, and I’m moving a little slower than usual, so I need all the time I can get.”

Your coworker purses her lips. “Fine. But know that I’m always here if you need to talk.” She turns on her heel and heads out towards her work wife’s room. You close your eyes as you pinch the bridge of your nose. 

“She’s actin’ real weird,��� the redhead states as she sits in Barbara’s rocking chair.

The kindergarten teacher nods. “Poor thing looks like she crawled out of the seventh layer of hell.”

“And she got real snippy with me when I asked her if Jen had anything to do with it… shut me down real quick and refused to talk to me anymore,” Melissa sighs. “I just want to help her if she’s in a sticky situation.”

“Melissa,” Barbara says softly. “If I do remember correctly, you were the same way when things got messy with Joe.”

“I know!” the second grade teacher huffs. “But now that I’m on the other end of it… I just want to help if I can.”

“And that is very kind of you,” the older teacher tells her friend. “But if she’s not ready to ask for help, the only way that you can help is by being kind and gentle with her.”

“I guess,” Melissa purses her lips. “Well… I suppose I should go pretend to do my job.”

“I suppose you should,” Barbara nods. “But seriously… do not go all Schemmenti over this. I’m sure Y/N is fine, and if she isn’t… we’ll be there to help pick up the pieces later.”

The redhead grabs her coffee before entering the staff lounge once more. She brews another pot of coffee and fills her own mug before grabbing a spare from the cupboard. She prepares that second cup of liquid gold the way she knows you like it before heading back down to your room.

“Hey,” she knocks on the doorframe gently. “I figured I would bring you another cup so you don’t have to limp your way down during prep.”

You smile at her gently, as much as your bruised jaw will allow you to. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” Melissa says softly, so out of character for her. “I’m here to help.”

When you expect her to linger, she just gently sets the cup of coffee on your desk and makes her way back out to her own classroom.

When your kids come in, they’re immediately asking you what happened, if you’re okay.

“I’m doing just fine,” you chuckle. “But thank you for your concern. If you think I look bad, you should see the other person,” you joke, thinking none of them will care enough to repeat your words. What you’re saying is right though- the other girl got just as roughed up, if not worse. Oh how wrong you are. 

Come lunch, Melissa is right at your door, asking if you want her to bring your lunch down for you from the break room.

“I can come get my lunch,” you chuckle as you wave off her offer. “I could use the movement anyway… been teaching from my chair.”

The two of you make your way into the staffroom, and she all but pushes you into a chair before grabbing your lunches out of the refrigerator for you. When you expect her to sit down next to you with her own lunch, she doesn’t. She heads for the fridge again and pulls out two ice packs. She gently tucks the first one into your bra strap to ice your shoulder, and then she’s sitting down and gesturing for you to prop your foot up on her lap.

“Melissa, I’m really okay,” you try to tell her again. She shakes her head though and all but forces your leg into her lap. She unlaces your brace before setting the icepack over the bruised area. Then, and only then, does she dive into her own lunch.

You smile softly at her. “Thank you.”

“Someone’s gotta look after you when you won’t ask for help,” she rolls her eyes. “And I’ll be damned if it isn’t me.”

The lunch period passes by quickly, but then you remember that you have recess duty. With a sigh, you reach forward to lace up your brace again.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Her hands try to stop your own.

“I have recess duty,” you tell her. “Don’t worry, I’m planning on bringing a chair out and just monitoring from there.”

She ties your brace up for you before standing with you. “I’m not letting you lug out a chair by yourself with your ankle and bum shoulder… Jesus, don’t you think you should go get your ankle checked out? It’s the size of a baseball.”

“I’ve had worse,” you sigh offhandedly as you begin to make your way outside. No more than thirty seconds later is she outside with you, two chairs under her arm. She sets them out before gesturing for you to sit down.

“Thanks,” you mutter. The two of you sit there for a bit of time before the warmth from the sun begins to become too much for you, and unconsciously you roll up a sleeve- revealing the bruises on your arms.

The redhead next to you does everything she can to not stare at them as her mind goes a mile a minute, wondering exactly how you got all of these injuries.

And then two kids run up to the two of you. One is in your class, and the other is in Melissa’s.

“Miss Y/N,” your kid says as she bounces on her toes.

“What’s up, Jayla?”

“Tell Amaya what you told us today about why you have all of your bruises,” she tells you. “She doesn’t believe me.”

“I fell?” you respond, confused as hell.

“Yeah, but what did you say after that?”

“Thank you for your concern?” you tell her, even more confused than the first time.

“But then what after that?”

You shrug.

“You told us that we should see other person that did this to you!” Jayla yells.

You purse your lips into a fine line, and you can see the way that Melissa is eying you in your peripheral view. “That’s just an expression, hun. I didn’t mean it literally.”

“You still said it,” your student smirks before turning to her friend as they walk off. “I told you she said that!”

“So,” Melissa leans in. “What was that?”

“I didn’t really mean it,” you huff. “It was a joke. I didn’t think the kids would remember it.”

“Hun,” the redhead lays a gentle hand on your shoulder. “If you need help…”

“I don’t need help,” you sigh. “I promise you. I’m just fine.”

And then the bell rings to signal the end of recess. You limp your way over to your students’ line while Melissa gathers the chairs under her arm again and takes them inside. You get the kids back inside and finish out the day teaching from your desk. 

After school, as much as you would love to just go home and relax, there is a staff meeting. You slowly make your way into the library and take up your place next to Melissa. While you’re waiting for everybody else to come trickling in, the redhead reaches into her bag again and pulls out her CBD oil. Before you can stop her, it’s on your shoulder again, and she’s gently working it into your skin.

“Thank you,” you whisper softly, trying not to groan out in pain.

She just nods before lifting your injured foot into her lap again. Melissa unlaces your brace again and begins to rub the oil over your swollen ankle. At that, you grimace, but you let her continue. 

And then Ava is making her way in.

“Hey y’all,” she grins as she makes her way over to your table. “Damn girl… you did a great job on Saturday.”

You chuckle lightly. “Thanks.”

“What game?” Janine asks. “And why weren’t we invited?”

“Ava wasn’t even invited,” you roll your eyes. “She was just there where I was playing rugby.”

“I was there to…” she smirks. “Check out the eye candy and go window shopping. I had no idea Y/N is the hottie that she is.”

“You play rugby?” Melissa raises an eyebrow.

You nod. “And that… is how I got the black eye, the bruises, and the shoulder and ankle injuries.”

“Why wouldn’t you just say that?” the redhead asks you. 

You go to speak, but Ava decides that now is the time to start her meeting, claiming that most of the faculty was in the room and she doesn’t want to have to be here much longer. So, you aren’t able to answer.

Once the meeting is over, Melissa is helping you out to your car in silence. 

“Why wouldn’t you just tell me that you got hurt playing sports?”

“I didn’t wanna seem like a wuss,” you shrug, only to wince slightly at the throbbing in your shoulder. “I didn’t want no one making a big fuss over me.”

“Hun,” Melissa rolls her eyes. “Of course we were going to make a big fuss over you when we saw you. I was out here thinking you got beat up or were getting abused… I wish you would’ve just told me that you got hurt playing a sport.”

You turn a bit sheepish. “Sorry.”

“You promise me that this was from rugby?”

“Promise,” you sigh softly. “The team I was playin’ was tough and showing no mercy… the ref called a bunch of flags, but by that point the damage was done.”

Melissa gives you a sympathetic look. “Well, why don’t you come over tonight, and I’ll help nurse you back to health? Cook you dinner, let you ice, rub some more CBD oil on your injuries.”

“Are you flirting with me?” you tease her. 

The woman in front of you just shrugs. “Maybe… what do you say?”

“I’ll be there by five,” you chuckle as you hobble along to get into your car. 

TAGS, and lmk if you wanna be added: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson

[nostalgicfun]

Love is stored in the food.

My dad always made a huge deal about my mom's cooking.

He would come to see us for the weekend and she'd make him lunch and dinner, he'd bang his fist on the table, he'd make comical MMMMMMs like he was in a commercial (albeit a very corny one), and declare that he was taking home the leftovers so nobody could have seconds (which was, of course, a joke, and he'd actually encourage everyone to eat more).

As I was growing up, if I didn't like something we were having for dinner, he'd tell me "Did I ever tell you what I ate in the Gulf War?" or "Did I ever tell you I carried one spoon for six months in my sock?" and, in a nice, fun, dad-like way, tell me I should appreciate my mom's cooking.

One of the last times I saw him, I made a joke that I could make him spaghetti, but it wouldn't be as good as my mom's because I didn't have the practice.

He told me that of course it would be just as good, because he loves me, and therefore he loves my cooking, and he would take all the leftovers home and eat all of it even if I made him weeks and weeks of spaghetti and it all turned green.

I believe him.

I got older and got my own place, and began cooking for roommates and friends and coworkers and significant others. I wasn't a very good cook because I didn't have any experience at all outside of boxed macaroni and spaghetti since my mom didn't allow me to cook—which is another story of its own.

So yes, I started cooking and baking, and no, I wasn't good at it. Many of my meals were (and, let's be real, still are) "flops." I'm notorious for burning—incinerating, truthfully—things, overcooking things, adding too much or too little seasoning, yada yada. That doesn't stop me from loving cooking and baking, though.

But there's a problem, and there has always been a problem since I started using a kitchen of my own, that what I make goes to waste. Entire cakes sit in their cake-keeper until they mold. Leftovers of dishes I made for other people turn to liquid in their containers. Brownies turn to gray rocks, spaghetti turns so green not even my dad would have touched it.

Shortly after I got my first apartment, I lamented this to my father, who was by then living overseas. I told him that I had, like my mother, love to bake, but no one to feed it to. Even with roommates, it rotted. I couldn't eat two dozen cupcakes myself.

I received a phone call a few hours later.

It was from my dad's best friend.

He drove an hour for cupcakes. I'd never seen him smile so broadly as he did when I went running out to his truck with a big container of cupcakes in my hands. They were pudding-filled, I told him, something I'd never tried before. Yellow cupcakes with chocolate frosting and vanilla pudding. Boston cream cupcakes.

My dad's friend came back once a week until he moved a short time later. He posted pictures of my "delicacies" on Facebook. I made him cheesecakes, cupcakes, quick breads, muffins.

And of course, spaghetti.

And he told me about the spoons he and my dad carried in the Gulf War.

Years went by and I got better at cooking, but there was still something wrong. My food—homemade food—wasn't eaten unless I put it right in front of a person and basically said "eat." If I set my food out at a work potluck and left the room it would go untouched. My family scoffed (and still scoffs!) at anything I make for them for reasons unknown to even me. My friends and roommates ate what I put in front of them, but left overs never got eaten of their own volition, cookies continued to mold in their tins.

I stopped baking.

Later when my dad returned to the country for a funeral, he went straight to my mom's house. She made him coffee and cheesecake and spaghetti, and he raved and raved and raved about all of it just like he used to.

We stood outside that night while I let the dogs run around.

"She makes terrible coffee," he told me unprompted. "Bitter. But she always had it ready for me. I never asked for that. She just started doing it one day while I was getting ready for work. I'd never had that before. It was the sweetest thing ever, back then."

Her cheesecake was too sweet for him sometimes, too. And she made her chili, one of his favorite dishes right up there with spaghetti, too spicy for his liking.

But she was cooking for him. She was doing this for him. And his reactions made her so happy. My mom loves when people enjoy her food, everyone who's ever met her knows this. "Even when she made absolutely rancid stuff, which she does sometimes," he said, "she's doing it because she loves us. And we love her, too. So I drink the coffee."

I took up my dad's mantle of "theatrics" at the dinner table for my mom. She smiles the same every time.

I've become a much, much better cook as I've gotten older.

I've also, with age, learned the difference between selfish love and unselfish love, and how you can so easily tell this difference when you make someone food. Empty compliments made in hopes it'll win the compliment-giver brownie points (pun not intended but appreciated). Say it's good, but the leftovers are molding in the fridge and the muffins are untouched in the break room, still. My family who side-eyes my dinner contributions with thinly-veiled distaste.

I started making friends recently. New friends from new places, friends who aren't anything like me.

I joined a writing club, too.

On a whim, I baked cupcakes for our meeting.

When the meeting was over, arguments ensued over who got to take the cupcakes home. I handed out paper plates and cling wrap. Everyone left smiling. Everyone left with a cupcake (or two) in their hands. Each time we meet, now, they ask me when I'm next bringing cupcakes.

A coworker came to sit in my office the other day. She's new here. She lamented not having a Red Lobster in the area, that she craved their biscuits because she and her mom used to go get Red Lobster on Thursday nights.

I went home and made her Cheddar Bay biscuits. We sat in the break room eating them and laughing and making up stories about people we saw from the window below. When lunch was over, she took her biscuits home in an ice cream box we found in the freezer.

I started dating a new guy last year. My dad introduced us on his most recent visit. I was smitten. He was smitten. We did the silly little activities kind-of-young people do while dating: walks in the park, going out for ice cream, watching a movie, attending a trivia night.

I don't remember now how it was relevant to the conversation at the time, but at one point it was mentioned that neither his mother nor his father nor his step-mom ever cooked. The whole family always ate out. At home they'd have chicken tenders and Hungry Man dinners.

The next week, I invited him over for dinner. I was nervous, super nervous. I was so scared it would go the way it always goes, with no comments at all other than "thanks it was good," which almost always means, in the experiences I've had, "that was mediocre but nice of you I guess."

I made him a big rack of ribs. I called my mom to make sure I was doing it right, like, three times.

When I put the ribs down in front of him, he was smiling a familiar smile. A "did I ever tell you about the spoon I carried" smile.

He took one bite.

He set down his fork.

He got out his phone and video called his dad to show him the dinner.

I haven't stopped cooking for him since.

When he has to leave after a weekend together, he goes to my fridge and rummages through the leftovers not unlike a racoon and asks "can I have this?" "are you going to eat this?" "can I take some of this home?"

He always leaves with a Walmart bag full of little Tupperware containers, and hot coffee made without asking.

And when my dinners are "flops," when they come out burnt or too salty or not salty enough, he doesn't lie or give me beloathed empty compliments.

"The worst dinner from you is still better than the best dinner from Door Dash."

I bake him cakes. He sends me snapchats of him eating them. I make him muffins, and he takes them to work in a lunch box and taunts his coworkers with them. He arrives to my place in the wee hours of the morning and asks "what did you make for dinner tonight, is there any left, and how fast can I microwave it?" We go to a social potluck at the place where we met and he points to the banquet table and says "look, that guy's getting some of your meatballs. I bet they're almost all gone." A friend's wife puts one of my cookies on her plate. He points at something behind her that isn't there at all and steals the cookie off of her plate. He smiles at me.

Love is stored in the food.

[hotchnerwife]

EITHER WAY

Warnings! MDI!

Smut, (female receiving), oral (male receiving), angst, violence, anxiety. (Okay I’m new to doing this on tumblr tbh. I usually just write on wattpad but I have more stories so lmk if you enjoyed this)

Summary- After the loss of your uncle Jason Gideon, one man you least expect is there to protect you and be a shoulder to lean on. What happens after you grow more dependent on each other?

January 28, 2015. Gideons death. Donnie Mallick shot and killed your uncle in his cabin. We all attended his funeral. Your cousin, his son Stephen helped you prepare it. You had been having a hard time since then. You watched them lay a tarp over his body. The same body you had hugged many times before. The same body that sat before you while playing chess. You hardly could stand looking at him. Neither could Spencer. You were having a tough time and so was Spencer. You had confided in him for so many nights. Both of you staying up late eating take out, telling stories about Gideon. Spencer wasn’t his biological son, but Gideon showed him kindness and it was enough for Spencer to gravitate towards him. Gideon always thought of Spencer like his son. Spencer was his do-over in his head. Gideon failed with Stephen the first time. Not always being around. Work consuming his daily life. Gideon saw Spencer as a way to fill the hole he had for a child, but you? You were always his little girl.

Your father died when you were only 2. Your mother abandoned us as soon as you were born. Gideon took you raised and raised you until you were 5. That’s when aunt Jill told Gideon she was pregnant with Stephen. Life from then on was different. You lived with your grandparents. You hardly saw Gideon, and when you did see him, he brought you to the office. Where you sat and watched him and Rossi play chess or argue about cases. You always knew he loved you though.

It had been a week since the case and funeral. You tried to come back with a clear mind. You had been having nightmares, the same one particularly. Gideon standing in the middle of his cabin. Looking at You not being able to talk. There was a man standing behind him. Shot him right in the back of the head. Gideons body slamming onto you, not being able to move. Screaming for help as the man steps over us. The man looking down at you and right before he lets off the gun trigger, you scream. That’s when you wake up.

“ (y/n) can I see you in my office please?”

You look up and see Hotch standing outside his office with a serious but concerned look.

“yes Hotch?” You say while walking into the office.

“ how are you doing? “

“Im fine,Hotch.”

“Are you sure? We could extend your time. You could go home and get proper rest.”

“Hotch I’m not a child. I passed my evaluation. I’m okay to come back”

“I never said you were a child. I’m just making sure you are ready to come back.”

“ I’m fine.”

“If you say so, but I’m not sure you are. Gideon was a friend to all of us but I know you were family.”

“Hotch I’m okay-“

JJ walked in thankfully.

“Hey guys I’m sorry to interrupt but we have a case.”

Never have I been so thankful to hear those words. Maybe now I can have a distraction.

“This is Colin Parker, he was the 5th man who was found slaughtered inside his home.”

“Slaughtered?” I ask.

“ yes. There is stab wounds up and down his body. His throat was slashed, and wrists cut.” Hotch said.

“Over kill?” Morgan speaks up.

“No. Who ever did this it was clean. It was a precise killing. With over kill no one would kill like this and not leave a complete mess.” Spencer replied

“ well we are going to California then. Wheels up in 30.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We just came back from a super long case. Two more men were kidnapped but we thankfully saved them in time.

We walked into the bull pen. Everyone extremely tired and ready for the weekend.

“ oooo hey sweetheart looks like someone’s got a secret admirer” Morgan teased and you came up to your desk to see a beautiful bouquet of flowers and a note.

“Open the note I want to know who it’s from!!!” Emily screamed with excitement and pushed on your shoulder to make you more eager.

“ fine fine.” With everyone now standing around your desk you opened the envelope. A small letter. It read:

(Y/n),

This letter is in condolences to Your uncle, Jason Gideon, he was a great man. We have found his will reading and will hope you and your Team will have time to come on out to his cabin and collect any personal affects he has left you.

Sincerely (Gideons Lawyer)

“Gideon has a lawyer?” Morgan asked

“Gideon has a will?” Rossi scoffed.

Tears started to form in your eyes. You hadn’t been to his cabin since you found him. Your weren’t allowed back until it was cleaned up. Reid and you never felt like going back to collect our stuff there either.

“ I guess so.”

Hotch looked at you knowing you were hiding your tears. “ (y/n) we can plan to visit his will reading Sunday?, would that be alright?”

“ yes”. You hated this. You thought this was all over.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sunday approached. You wore your jacket Gideon gifted to you for your 18th birthday.

“Hi I’m Matthew Murdock ( yes ik 🫣) I’m here to read you off Jason Gideons will”

“Hi Mr Murdock, I believe we have met before?, SSA David Rossi”

“ oh yes we have, when I was in grad school.”

“It’s nice to see you again- well you know”

Matthew laughs. ( if you don’t know Matthew Murdock is blind)

“ and this is his niece” Rossi says guiding you over to him.

“(y/n) correct?”

“ yes I am.”

“ well it’s very nice to meet you finally, I know it’s under bad conditions but Gideon spoke very highly of you and Stephen”

“Thank you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“ it’s nice to finally meet everyone, I’m sorry it wasn’t under better circumstances. I was given a letter earlier this week stating Gideons will was found during the clean up. I was told to contact you as soon as you returned from your case.”

We all looked around. This was it. Maybe after hearing this I would finally have some peace.

“This is the will reading of Jason Gideon, husband of Jill Gideon ( deceased) and father of Stephen Gideon who unfortunately couldn’t attend. The other living family is (y/n)( y/l/n), and other beneficiaries. To start I leave my team members all notes in envelopes to read. These are to be read by yourselfs. Unless wanting to be shared.”

Matthew spreads envelopes around the table in front of us. Each labeling our name. Mine being the biggest envelope there. We approach and take ours and sit back down.

“ I was told this next portion was to be read by his niece (y/n), will you read it”

You step up. Looking over this long piece of paper. Assuming the top portion with the bumps was for Matthew to read in braille.

You start to sweat as you know these next couple minutes will be the end of you.

“ Hello everyone, Hopefully my entire Team is here. I wanted you all here so I could leave you with things I wish I gave you before I left. Things that remind me of you. Things we cherished together. First off, is Spencer. Spencer you are a great kid. Keep using that mind for amazing things. I leave you my chess board, my map collection, and books. To Emily, I haven’t known long but I leave my wife’s china plates, you always wanted some. To JJ I leave my boy Stephen’s young clothes. You will make a wonderful mother unless when you read this you already are. To Penelope, I leave my whole computer system to. It’s outdated but I’m sure your mind can handle it. To Derek I leave my sports collection to you. I have 2 Nellie Fox baseball cards. Still in great condition. Keep them safe. To Hotch, stop Being such a hard ass. Loosen up. I saw on the news about what happened. I’m sorry. Haley was a wonderful person. Jack needs you. I leave Stephen’s clothes to you as well, and my Star Wars collection, keep any of the clothes in the closet for yourself. To my friend, David Rossi. We grew distant but you are my best friend. I named my child after you. We started all of this together. I leave the desk we built together as well as our funds we hoped to save up for our trip to Florida where we wanted to retire.” Rossi laughed and shook his head.

“To Stephen-“

“He isn’t here you don’t have to read it.” Matt spoke up.

“ Oh alright. To my passera ( sparrow in Italian, Rossi called you is so finally Gideon started to call you it) I leave you my cabin. The cabin we built together at 5 years old. I leave you everything that doesn’t go to anyone. I leave you my records. I leave you aunt Jill’s things. I love you my passera. Let people take care of you.”

You start to cry. The man you confided in when you were upset about anything was gone. You never would see him again.

“You can now stand up and we have put ur Belongs gifted to you in an area labeled with your name. “

“(Y/n)” Matthew said

“ yes?” You wiped the tears off your face as Rossi put his hands on your shoulders.

“I need to give you the keys to the cabin. These belong to you.” Matthew’s hands you the keys. The keys have a wooden initial attached on the key chain. Your Initals.

“ Cara Mia, he’s in a better place.” Rossi spoke to you so softly

You turned and cried into his chest. Rossi usually would’ve sat you down and complained about his suit being ruined but at the moment he didn’t care. Everyone was grabbing their things. Spencer on the verge of tears trying to leave as fast as he could so he could cry at home.

You were still crying by the time most of them left. Derek saying goodbye to me. JJ and Emily hugging you. Penelope asking if you would be okay. Rossi asked if you needed a ride home and you shook your head no. You didn’t want to leave. Hotch stayed. You didn’t know he did. You just sat there and balled your eyes out.

“ I think I should take you home (y/n) “

His low voice startled me.

“I don’t want to leave Hotch.”

“ I think it’s best if for tonight you do.”

“ fine.” You were too worn out to argue with him. If this was any other time we would be at each others throats. Hotch would tell you, you were over reacting and needed to grow up. You liked he was being kind. But you hated it at the same time. Knowing this would all be over by the end of the week and he would be a hard ass again.

Hotch helps you into the car. The same car youve rode in hundreds of times. The same car youve driven with your uncle in the passenger seat. driving to the Bau singing the Beatles on the way there.

“ are you okay?” Hotch’s voice snaps me out of my trance.

“ yes.” I lied. Why lie to a profiler.

“ it’s okay to not be okay, I don’t know why I asked that I know you aren’t.”

“ I’m okay hotch. I’ll just have to get over this.”

“ not over. Through. This takes time”

“ I’m not a child I know that.”

You don’t know why you were starting an argument with him. You were mad at him. Why? You don’t completely know why.

“(Y/n) I’m just trying to help you okay, and if you decide you want to be childish then fine. By all means.”

You sat there. Not completely knowing what happened. You disliked you and him fighting. It always bothered you it seemed like he hated you and cared about the others. Hotch being nice to you is all that you’ve ever wanted. But tonight you just needed everything to be normal. This was your guys normal.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The week began. You still hadn’t opened your letter from Gideon. You wanted to, but what if you read something you wished you didn’t. Change was something you should’ve been used to. You were doing this long enough, but having someone you thought would live forever dying? That was hard.

It had been tense in the office. More than usual. Everyone could tell you and Hotch weren’t talking. Rossi tried playing middle man but that just caused more chaos.

You handed in a report two days ago. Well Spencer did. You paid Reid $20 to hand it in for you so you didnt have to see Hotch.

“(Y/n) my office now. He was mad. More mad than usual. Was it hot? Maybe. But you were way more worried about what he was about to yell at you for.

“ yes sir?”

“ did you re read your report before handing it in? I’m sorry I mean giving it to Reid to hand in because you can’t even turn in your own reports now.”

“ I did. It all seemed fine”

“Seemed? These reports are also reflections of how I am as boss. Am I teaching you how to fill the out correctly? Did I teach you how to spell? No because I’m not your kindergarten teacher.”

“ what is up your ass today?”

“ you. You misspelled completely wrong twice. Fix your mistake now.”

“ yes sir.”

God. He was so annoying. I walked out of his office to see everyone’s eyes on me. Was he that loud?

“ Cara Mia you okay?” Rossi peaks his head out of his office. You didnt know but your hands were vigorously shaking.

“ yes I’m fine.” Rossi looks at your hands and you look down as well. Trying to hide them you put them behind you. Walking away.

You sat at your desk. Wishing the day to be over. At 8 o’clock you could go home. You stayed later then everyone else did. Yes you were a profiler but you were assigned to help hotch as well. When he went home you went home. Which means some nights you stayed very late. The days he didn’t go home he dismissed you to leave. Knowing he wasn’t leaving but you honestly didn’t care. Hotch pissed you off so many times. You never understood why he hated you as much as he did. With Gideon around he was kinder. I mean he did ignore you most of the time until it was case work, but he didn’t yell at you. Once Gideon was gone he started to grow more aggressive. You hated this. You had a crush on him everyone knew. It didn’t take long for Rossi to realize either. It didn’t take him long to say “ so when is the wedding?” Ever since that day he’s encouraged the team to make jokes about your crush on the angry unit chief.

“It’s 11:00pm. Time for you to go home

(Y/n).” Hotch spoke and it shook you out of your thoughts.

“Are you leaving?” You told yourself you didn’t care but for some odd reason you still asked.

“I’m staying a little longer. I have to finish this report.”

“Then I’m staying”

“ I don’t think that’s necessary. You should go home.”

“Hotch part of my job is to stay here and help you. If you aren’t leaving then neither am I.”

“ fine.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There you were. Sitting across from the man you hated yet wanted to love you so dearly. You hardly looked up from his couch, but when you did you could catch him staring. It was 11:45 by this point and you were hardly done with your reports.

“ do you want to go get some food?”

Hotch asked.

“I guess. We will be here a while.”

You both got up and walked down the street. You walked into the 24/7 Chinese place. You both got orange chicken. You always ate orange chicken with Gideon. It just happened to be the last meal you had with him. Tears formed again. Scared to show your emotions to hotch. You tried to hard to prove him your okay you would hate him to see you were wrong. You wiped your tears before he could see.

Hotch hands you your food.

“ thank you”

“ you’re welcome”

For a man you wanted to hate with every bone in your body you looked at him like he was your everything. Hotch’s eyes lit up in the street light, his hands handing your food you couldn’t look away. You tried ripping your mind away from these thoughts. Thoughts you shouldn’t be having about him, your boss especially.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You return back. Sitting and eating. Hardly ever spoke to him but that’s okay. You got through the paper work you needed to. You were getting very tired. You could tell hotch was too.

“Let’s go home.”

Hotch looked at you like you just told him you loved him. The surprised look confused you.

“Not together dumbass.”

“ right. I knew that.”” You aren’t in the right condition to drive though”

“ yes I am”

“ you are falling asleep as we are talking right now”

He wasn’t wrong. You were drifting in and out.

“ fine.” Hotch has driven you before. You weren’t incline to argue with you him as you were practically half asleep on his couch right now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You woke up to seeing an apartment complex. This wasn’t yours. It was Hotch’s

A shiver ran down your spine. You looked over and Hotch was getting out of the car. Rounding to your side and opening the car door. “ you’re up.”

“ yes, I thought I was going home? You aren’t kidnapping me are you? I mean you are unit chief so you could get away with it-“

“(Y/n) stop talking. I brought you here because you were asleep and I forgot which level you lived on so taking you home with me was easier.”

“ I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have fallen asleep”

“ it’s okay.”

Hotch helps you inside. “ where is Jack?”

“ Jack is at Jess’s tonight.”

“ oh. So tonight would’ve been a you night I’m sorry”

“ don’t me. I probably would’ve just came home and slept.”

“ well don’t let me stop you. I’ll just lay down on the couch now”

“ no. I’m a gentleman and you will be sleeping in my bed. I’ll take the couch”

“ hotch I’m not kicking you out of your own bed.”

“I don’t care. You’re my guest.”

You were tired. Arguing again was too

tiring and he was right it was his place.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You see him. Gideon facing you. He just moved his chess piece. “ your turn”.

You looked at him. You move your piece and he looks at you like you’re stupid. You don’t care where you moved it. You only care you get to see him again. Gideon stands. No no. Sit back down. “Im going to get some water you want anything” yes for you to sit down. “ no, thank you”

You turn around. Fully facing him now. There he is. Center of the living room. Boom. Gideons laying on top of you. You start yelling. You can’t move. In the mirror you see a dead bleeding out Gideon. Lifeless laying on you. You look up and stare at the barrel of a gun. This time you wish for it to go off. You pray. No screaming. “(Y/N)”

You wake up in a hot sweat. Gripping into an arm. Not your arm, but hotch’s

“(Y/N)”

It shook you to your core. You were hyperventilating. Not being able to catch your breath. Hotch is holding you. “ it’s okay. Deep breaths”

You finally are able to calm down.

“ do you want to talk about it?”

“ not really”

“ was it another nightmare about Gideon?”

“What?”

You looked at him now. You knew everyone knew you were having nightmares, but Gideon?

“We bunked up remember?”

You do. Ever since the whole team found out about your crush they’ve done everything to keep you both together. Hoping it’ll spark something. But since Gideon your mind has been other places then your boss sharing the same room

As you.

“ you know?”

“ yes.” “ would you like to talk about it?”

“Yes.” You looked at him. You never thought you would talk about the nightmares. Not to Hotch especially.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You tell him everything. You watch his expressions change. He is listening. Not zoning out but listening. It feels good to see him finally listening to you.

“ I see. Are you having these every night?”

“ yes.”

“ have you talked to anyone about them? “

“ no only you.”

“ not even Reid?”

“ no. I’m to embarrassed.”

“ why?”

“ because I feel like I should’ve been over this by now. I see death in every day life. “

“This is different. This is Gideon.”

“ I know.”

“ it’ll take time and that’s okay.”

“ thank you hotch.”

“ you’re welcome.”

Hotch got up. You didn’t want him to leave. What if you had another nightmare.

“ can you stay?”

“What?” He stopped dead in his tracks.

“ can you stay with me? I know it inappropriate for a supervisor to sleep with a- “

Hotch gets into bed. No arguments. No restraint. Not even a complaint. You feel better now.

“ goodnight (y/n)”

“ goodnight hotch”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You wake up to a hand on your lower back. You open your eyes and Hotch is right up on your chest. His head buried almost under you arm. You were enjoying this to say the least. But you knew it was wrong. Hotch started to shift. You acted asleep. You felt the stir and the weight of where he was release. He was up now. Hotch’s phone rang.

“Hotchner.” God his morning voice was hot. “ okay sounds good. We will be on our way- I mean I will. Please don’t call (y/n) they had a rough time last night so I’m sure they will want to sleep in.”

You heard Hotch chuckle. It was cute.

“Case?” You say to him.

“ uh that was no one by Morgan”

“ oops I’m sorry”

“ no you’re okay, I’m sure we will just hear some things walking in.”

Which I didn’t mind. I wish those things were true.

“ did you sleep good?”

“ yes, your bed is really nice.”

“ thank you”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Walking into the bullpen was hard. All eyes on you and Hotch.

“ okay spill Morgan said he heard you when he was calling Hotch, is it true?”

“ no. Well yes I was there but it wasn’t like that.”

“ so what was it like then huh sweetheart?”

“ Morgan I promise me and him did nothing.”

“ so you didn’t sleep in the same bed?”

“ well yes but it was under different circumstances”

“ and that was???”

You didn’t want to say it. Thought the day more prying questions were thrown your day. You were getting anxious. Everyone saw it and you picked at your fingers while they were questioning you.

“Conference room before everyone leaves”

Hotch said as he walked passed the bullpen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“ (y/n) and I didn’t engage in any inappropriate behavior. I want everyone to know this”

They all looked around. You were so embarrassed. You wanted to shoot yourself at this point.

“ do we all understand.”

“Yes.” They all say in unison.

Morgan even seemed too scared to make a remark about it.

“ everyone is dismissed”

Everyone leaves except you and rossi. Rossi retreats to his office and you sit there.

“ are you okay?” Hotch is still standing there.

“Yes I’m okay.”

“Do you need anything?”

“ no im okay thank you.”

You stand up and walk to your desk. Thoughts overwhelming you. You need to move on from these nightmares. Face them. You pull open your drawer to see the envelope you stashed away.

(Y/n) (y/l/n)

It says on the front.

You slowly open it. Hoping whatever was inside would heal you from this insanity. There was a note and a couple over bigger letters. Some certificates dating back to your younger days like soccers and softball.

(Y/n) my little Passera,

My life started when I found out I was going to be an uncle. Kids never excited me but I knew you were different. Holding you for the first time felt like time stopped. I never wanted to see you hurt ever. So seeing you without parents at only 2 years hurt me. I brought you with me every where. I wanted to adopt you.

Those words. Adopt you. It hurt. You kept reading though.

The day I asked Rossi if I should ask Jill I got a call. Your aunt was pregnant. I wish I just went through with the adoption. Maybe things would’ve been different. I told Rossi and he agreed sending you with your grandparents would be for the best.

Rossi knew? You started to cry.

If I knew they were putting you through hell I wouldn’t have sent you there.

It was true. Your grandparents treated you like a house servant.

I’m so glad you followed in my footsteps though. Seeing you grow up. Watching you make your way to the top. Without my help either. (Y/n) I know it’s too late now. I made the biggest mistake not adopting you. I think about it every day. Can I adopt you? I love you so much my little girl.

Those words broke you. You hadn’t heard them before. Only once. The day he left. He hugged you goodnight and said those words. “ I love you my little girl”

Those words echoed through your head that night.

You shot up. Angry knowing Rossi knew. You walked to his door. Hotch saw you reading it and watching you walk to Rossi knew it would be bad.

“ David Rossi open your door” you yelled.

Rossi opend the door to be greeted by you. Angry. Crying. Red in the face. Hardly making full sentences.

“ Cara Mia slow down”

“ you knew?” You cried through your words. You shoved the envelope in his face. Rossi didn’t even have to be a profiler to know what you were talking about.

“ I’m sorry.”

“ oh you’re sorry? Rossi he was going to adopt me!”

Hotch felt your hurt in your voice. He knew how much you’ve wanted him to adopt you. Gideon talked about it all the time. His biggest mistake.

“I know, I shouldve encouraged him to do it. I wasn’t thinking at the time I’m sorry”

You broke down. Rossi hugged you.

“ he loved you though. There wasn’t a day that went by that he told me he wish he had adopted you.”

“ you’re just saying that”

“ no (y/n) he’s right.”

It was hotch.

“ what?”

“You know when you walked into Gideons office there was the desk full of picture frames?”

“ yeah?”

“ well when I started here there was two pictures. Stephen and Jill. Then a picture of you. You seem to be in a uniform. Softball I imagine and you have a big trophy. Gideon never shut up about you.”

You smiled at Hotch. You felt better.

“ I wish he would’ve told me.”

“ did he sign the papers?”

You look down at them.

“ yes he did”

“ okay then sign them.”

“ what? But he’s dead it doesn’t count”

“ legally he signed it. If you sign it your his legal daughter”

You burst out into tears. You hugged hotch tight. He hugged you back. It felt nice.

“ would you like a ride home?”

“ yes please.”

You turn to meet Rossi. Rossi was smiling at you. “ you gonna give him a big thank you aren’t you?”

“ shut up old man”

You both walk down and hear Rossi shout “ don’t keep each other up all night.”

Hotch seems a tad uncomfortable now. Great Rossi you ruined the thing we had going.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Do you want to listen to anything?”

“ sure.”

You press play on the radio. The Beatles start playing. Hotch is humming along

" you a fan?”

“ yeah I used to listen to them a lot when I was younger, do you?”

“ yeah same.”

Hotch knew you listened to them with Gideon. He feels like such an idiot asking the question back.

After what seems like an eternity you pull into your drive way. You thank hotch but he gets out and walks you to your door.

It’s starts to pour heavily.

“ you shouldn’t drive in this. Come on in?”

“I really need to get to jack.”

“Just until the storm passes?”

“Okay”

Hotch knew Jess was with him. He would be okay.

Hail is starting to pour outside. You switch on your lights. Just enough to light your way but dim because it’s night time.

“Do you want anything to drink?”

“Do you have any beer?”

“Of course I do”

You hand hotch a beer. You turn on your stereo. Something that’s been a habit. You usually walk in and it’s still on from when you left. You sit across from Hotch. Looking at him. You feel like a creep but he looks good. His arms reaching to his beer bottle. The shirt hugging his muscles.

“ youre staring.”

“ sorry”

You made small talk as best as you could. Actually now hoping the storms would pass you turn on the tv.

*STAY OFF THE ROADS! STAY OFF THE ROADS! HIGHWAY IS CLOSED OFF*

Comes across your screen. Great.

“Well you aren’t going anywhere tonight. I’m not letting you on the road.”

“(Y/n) I’ll be fine let me go get a hotel”

“ no you saw the news. No highway”

HOTCHS POV-

She wants me to stay. I want to stay. Sleeping in the same bed last time felt so right. Our body’s close together. The heat radiating off of hers. I felt her skin. It was soft and tender. I haven’t been like this with someone in a while. Not since before the divorce. I missed it. It felt good. But I couldn’t think about her like that. (Y/n) was going through so much. I would be taking advantage of her.

“ what are you thinking about?” Her soft voice brings me back to reality.

“ nothing.”

“ no I see those wheels turning what’s up?”

“ is this to much? I mean this will be the 2nd time sleeping in the same facility just us? Would it be deemed inappropriate?”

“ I don’t know. I mean we sleep together during cases?”

I froze. Sleep together.

“ well not sleep together but you know?

“ yeah. Uh I just don’t want to be pushing any boundaries.”

“ i understand and hotch you are a great friend for that”

Friend. Right.

Y/N POV-

Friend. Why would I say friend. He’s not my friend. He is the man I’m desperately in love with. The man I would kill for this situation to happen 100 more times.

“ do you want to watch a movie to pass the time?”

“ sure?”

we put on the notebook. Hotch said it was cheesy but I love it for rainy days.

I fell asleep toward the end. I woke up and Hotch was watching tv. My head in his lap.

“ oh I’m sorry”

“ hey it’s okay.”

You are embarrassed. You are constantly falling asleep around him.

“ hey can I take a shower?”

“ yeah of course” “let me grab you some clothes.

“these should fit you, they were Gideons and that’s my shirt.

Hotch sighed. Almost like a relief?

You sat down on the couch. Hearing the shower go you decided to turn on music. You loved listening to music during a rainy day. You were so in depth to just listening that you opened ur eyes to see hotch standing over you. You sit up and look at him. Hotch has never looked this good. You make you room next to you.

“ you have a great shower it has great water pressure”

Oh trust me you know.

“ yeah” you weakly smile. You couldn’t stop staring. He didn’t dry his body. You knew because the shirt was now drenched and sticking to his body. No complaints of course.

“(Y/n) you’re staring”

“ sorry.”

“ no need to apologize”

Good. Because you weren’t sorry. That man had an ungodly hold over you. You noticed Hotch scooted closer to you.

“ you okay?”

“ Mhm.”

You were okay. But far from normal okay.

Your mind had hundreds of different thoughts. You found out your uncle wanted to adopt you and now your boss you’ve had a crush on his on your couch in your clothes soaked from a shower he took in YOUR house!

“ you don’t see okay? You seem distracted” at this point you two were close. Hotch brought you closer to him. You look up at him. He stares back. You hear the song “Either way” by Chris Stapleton start playing.

“ can I kiss you?”

Your stomach drops.

“What?”

“ can I kiss you”

Another dream. You hoped not but you were scared.

“ yes.”

Hotch’s lips crashed into yours. It wasn’t a dream. His hands under you and you push your body up to meet his. You both go back down. Your body feeling the soft embrace of the couch. There you were. Kissing your boss. Not kissing. Making out. His hands moving around your body. He pulls away

“ I’m sorry i shouldn’t have done that”

He stands up

“ did you want to?”

“Yes but-“ you kiss him again. He embraces your kiss by holding the back of your head. Making out while walking down to the bedroom. You try not to hit anything off the walls. You open your door from behind you as you are still kissing your boss. He starts taking off his tie and shirt. Unbuttoning his shirt he takes it off and you see his scars. The one from foyet. He sees your eyes wander and begins to be self conscious. You see his eyes fill with worry. You take off your shirt without thinking and turn around. The whips from your grandparents engraved into your skin. Purple/ pink scars up and down ur back still. He touches them. It doesn’t hurt anymore. You turn to him.

“ I didn’t know”

“ no one did but Gideon.”

“ I’m sorry”

“ it’s okay”

His lips crash against yours. Hoisting you up onto him. Your legs wrap around him. You both fall onto the bed. You start feelings fingers against your sides. His hands wandering around your body. His kisses get sloppy. His kisses start going down to your neck. You start to moan. His kisses feel right. He enjoys hearing your soft moans. Hotch starts kissing Down the rest of your body. He get to your pants. Looking up for approval. You nod and he takes them off. His eyes lingering in between your thighs.

“ may i?”

You already knew what he wanted. The look of temptation.

“ yes”

He goes straight to your pussy. Sliding your underwear off. Pushing your legs outward. His tongue going over your folds. Him hitting your clit just to go back down. He was teasing you. You were growing needy. You moan every time. This time he stayed a little longer. A louder moan escaped your mouth.

“ you sound amazing”

He starts circling your clit with his tongue.

You feel him going faster. You were there. You didn’t know how he made you there so quickly. He just was good. Your moans make you toss your head back. His tongue going faster

“ hotch I think-“

“ Aaron I’m Aaron”

“ Aaron I think I’m going to -“ you moan

“ say it sweetheart”

“ I’m going to cum”

“ alright it’s okay “

You believed he was gonna stop. No he kept going pushing your legs farther apart you wanted to strangle his head with them so bad. He hit the spot and it all came out. You came on his tongue. You saw his eyes fill with lust and happiness. He licked you clean.

“ you did really good my love.” You looked saw it. His dick hard pressed to the sweats. Grey. So thankful for them. Your hand gravitated toward it. Wanting him to feel good like he made you. You get up and push him down. Taking off his pants and underwear. You see it kind of spring up. His full erection In front of you.

“ can you do it?” He says teasingly

“ shut up”

Your tongue swirls around the tip. He moans. You lick the precum off his tip. You start taking him. Your tongue and mouth being taken by him. His moans sounded like heaven. You take your hands and wrap them around it. As your head bobs up you bring your hands up as well. Same when you go down. You watch as his body moves. Chest rising and falling. The moans and groans. You feeling hits cock twitch im your mouth. The feeling of knowing when he’s about to come. You take all him one last time. You go down to hard you feel like you’ll gag. And up you go and he moans as he cums in your mouth. It dripping from your mouth but you manage to get almost every last bit. You sucked him dry. Any cum on his dick was now gone. He looked at you with pleasure and love. He grabs you we ease. You straddle him

“ you looked so pretty with my dick in your mouth. “

“ thank you”

“ you’ll look even pretty with it in you. You think you can do it?”

“ yes sir “

That sir hit Aaron in the gut. He never had heard a better word. You knew right then it made him happy. He lays you gently on your back. Grabbing your legs and holding them high. He lines you up and slowly inserts himself in. You moan

“You are tight aren’t you baby?”

“ yes.”

He went faster. Causing ur body to shake.

You arch. You moan. You feel ur whole body about to explode. He kisses you. Your face, neck, down your body. He keeps going deeper. You feel yourself about to cum.

“ Aaron I can’t”

“ cum on my dick it’s okay.”

You do as he says. One last thrust and he watches as cum goes down his dick. He starts to pull out. “ no what are you doing” Aaron looks at you confused “ what do you mean sweetheart?”

“ you didn’t cum. Stay in a finish”

“ I’m okay”

“ please sir.”

That gave Aaron every right to want to stay. He kept going until you watched his body shake. You knew it was coming. Literally. You felt as he came inside of you. Thankfully you were on birth control. He kind of just sinks into the bed beside you. You both sit up and look at each other.

“ you are such a pretty girl.”

“ thank you Aaron.”

You get quiet. Thinking how you just did this with your boss. You enjoyed it but I mean for the last 6 years you harbored a crush on him. Thinking he hated you. Now he fucked you.

“ what are you thinking about hm?”

“ what we did, was that wrong?”

Aaron shot up. Scared he pressured you. He knew he shouldn’t have done this.

“ did you not want to?”

“ no I did”

He sighed

“ just. You’re my boss. This will change so much.”

“ I know. But we don’t have to tell anyone yet”

“ Aaron we work with profilers. Whose job it is to find out who’s lying from a mile away. I’m sure they will know”

“Let that be tomorrow’s problem. Tonight you need rest”

“ okay.” He was right. You were so tired.

You drifted asleep with the man you loved.

You loved Aaron Hotchner.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You wake up. Aaron being gone. You were sad. Maybe he realized he made a mistake. That was until you heard footsteps. There he was. He brought you coffee and donuts. “Hi gorgeous did you sleep good?”

“ yes I did !”

You get up and go to kiss him when you see it. The hickey. The one you left last night. It was dark and going to be hard to cover up.

“Aaron I’m so sorry. This will get you in so much trouble”

“Hey it’s okay” “ drink your coffee you’ll be okay.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On the way to work you tried covering it up as best you could. It was hidden but still peaking through a bit. You hoped no one would really notice. A bug bite maybe?

Thats what Aaron was planning on telling one who asked. You walk in after Aaron. A couple mins behind. You see Rossi ask. You walk in and walk to your desk. “ good morning Rossi” “ good morning bug”. You look up to see hotch frozen as he’s turning his office door. Rossi looking at you.

Everyone looked at you.

Shit.

[roohuh]

Labor and Grief

Part 27 of year seven in Obliviate

Ominis X MC

Summary: Ominis works out his frustrations on the house he bought for you

Warnings: grief

Ominis left Hogwarts the day the body was found. No longer able to roam the halls which feel so empty without her, he retreated to the property he bought for them to live in together. Spending his days working on fixing the house, Ominis numbly toiled away. No one was allowed on the property save Sebastian who once a week would bring his friend a basket of food baked by Anne, and check up on Ominis. Carefully he put the house exactly how you had planned it out together. Sebastian brought your vivariums and beasts from Hogwarts for Ominis to dutiful care for. Most evenings when Ominis was too tired to work any longer he would lay with his back against Highwing sleeping fitfully, his dreams plagued with your screams as the poachers again and again killed the love of his life. When he woke with a start the kind hippogriff would nuzzle the boy until he was calmed back to sleep. Over the two months he spent this way Ominis had grown muscular and lean letting his hair grow long and wild. Choosing to repair the house manually instead of using magic he found the labor helped keep his mind occupied. He could not bear the thought of attending your funeral when Sebastian had come to convince him to go, arguing Ominis needed closure. Instead the two boys buried the small black ring box Ominis had intended on giving you. As Ominis permitted himself to weep one final time. As an apology for his absence he sent your parents a bouquet of flowers he picked from the last of the summer's wild flowers blooming all around the property. Ominis had attached a letter to the flowers asking them to come visit in the spring once all of the restorations were finished.

Sebastian did not knock as he entered the house for his weekly check in on Ominis, marveling at all he had done. As he set a bag of mail, food, and other items he had collected for Ominis on a large oak table he whistled in appreciation.

“This place looks great Ominis. You are just about ready for the first snow.” Only grunting in response Ominis did not stop carving the wordebe he was working on. Sebastian wandered over admiring the craftsmanship.

“Ya’ know for a blind guy you make beautiful furniture.”

“Thank you.” Ominis shrugs not stopping his work.

“Anne was hoping next weekend you would join me in going to visit her.” Sebastian gently urges his friend. Ominis shakes his head stubbornly.

“Give Anne my thanks for the food.”

“You know, I was thinking maybe Anne could move here with you. She is so lonely in Fildcroft and you are out here alone. It could be good for both of you. It would save me a trip too.” Sebastian pushed.

“I am sorry for being a burden. You do not need to come anymore; I can see to myself.”

“Thats not what I meant and you know it, This sulking around is a disgrace to her memory!” Sebastian shoots.

“But that's just it! It’s only a memory of her because she is gone!”digging too deeply into the cabinet with his chisel Ominis curses himself,

“Damn it!” Ominis tosses the tools aside, feeling the place he scored the wood.

“All I am saying is it would break her heart to see you like this. Just think about it.” Sebastian says before walking out the door. As soon as Sebastian had left Ominis felt a pang of remorse for the harsh way he had acted. The thought of Anne all alone through the winter in that small cottage weighed on his conscious as he lifted the loaf of bread she had made him out of the bag. Ominis sighed inwardly acknowledging his own lonely state. He missed having someone to talk to, but the thought of sharing this house with anyone but MC was painful for him. Tossing the bag of letters to the floor Ominis decided the next time Sebastian came he would ask for Anne to come stay with him. Returning to his project Ominis continues about his day unaware of the letter at the bottom of the bag with a plain simple “Ominis” on the front of the envelope in your handwriting.

[yansimstorythatiwillnotworkon]

#10

Friday

__

Almost every student came to the funeral, but additionally, no one bothered to count heads. Some students came, some didn’t. One of the more noticeable absences were Shoku who had stayed home, along with Geiju. Amai’s parents were likely planning a separate funeral somewhere more meaningful. Outside of Shoku, the rest of the Cooking Club attended, all with their own amount of grief.

Ajia refused to speak to anyone, and stayed near the back with her parents. Seiyo’s sister accompanied him, his own parents nowhere to be seen. He didn’t have many friends outside of the club, but Fureddo did come over to talk to him, which he likely appreciated. Kenko was here alone, but was surrounded by his classmates and peers, clearly attempting to steady his own mind after the incident. Despite his willingness to converse with his peers, he was still quiet and only gave short responses.

“Ayano.” Scilla called out softly, looking anxious as usual, but not entirely remorseful as the others looked.

Ayano turned to look at him, attempting to mock the dread on her peers’ faces, but likely only looking unsettled. Which he was. Hopefully this next weekend will give her time to properly calm down. “Scilla.”

“Hi.” Scilla clears his throat awkwardly. “I-I didn’t know that the cut was that deep.” He says. When Ayano doesn’t respond immediately, he haphazardly shoves his hand into his pocket. It looked to be a small, scuffed wallet, and was packed with a couple hundred dollars, it seemed.

Before reaching a hand out to grab it, Ayano lifts an eyebrow at Scilla, as if asking what exactly it was for. He didn’t seem like he could, but this could be some sort of bribe. With a nervous laugh, he says, “For like- h-hospital bills and stuff. Ahem. I know that they’re super expensive..”

Ayano pauses in thought, wondering if he was lying, before remembering that he did only recently move to Japan. “Universal Health Care covers my injuries.” She says, folding her arms. “I’ll go if it gets any worse.”

“Oh… Oh, yeah..” Scilla nods, his face red in embarrassment as he seems to recall that fact. “Sorry, I forgot. I went to the hospital pretty often in the US so…” He stops, realizing that Ayano probably didn’t care for the reason.

As Scilla stands awkwardly stiff and avoids Ayano’s gaze, she decides to speak up. “You don’t seem too upset about the current… event.” She says, looking back to the stage, which had the preparations hidden behind the giant curtain.

“I-I didn’t really know Amai that well.” Scilla quickly explains, lightly scratching the wallet in his hand. “...It’s sad that… that she passed, I know that. That’s why I’m here, to pay respects, and..” He clears his throat and takes a deep breath. “...I’m just trying to let people know that I’m sad she’s gone, too. I don’t have the… the best reputation, after all.”

“Sounds like you’re using Amai’s death to try to make yourself look better.” Ayano says, folding her arms with a judgemental look.

Immediately hunching his back over in shame, Scilla hangs his head, looking guilty. “Don’t s… Don’t say it like that, Ayano..” Despite his visual attempts to defend himself, he only ends up deflating. Rather than saying anything, he shoves the wallet into Ayano’s hands. “J-Just take this as an apology for the injury.” He says quickly, before quickly walking off.

Some might feel compelled to bring the money back, ‘It’s your money, and you’ve already apologized.’ But from how Ayano sees it, that’s a couple hundred less cash she has to worry about. She quickly pockets the wallet and looks around the gymnasium. The ceremony had yet to start, and so far students just mingled and mourned in the darkest wear they could find, if not black.

As Ayano looks around, she suddenly spots Kokona sitting down by herself, her gaze stuck on her phone. Not Riku or any of her friends seemed to be around, so Ayano assumed that this was because she asked to be alone. Of course, Kokona didn’t know that Ayano knew that, so approaching her would be an innocent act in her eyes. Checking up on her would be an ever more beneficial act to show how much Ayano “cared”.

“Hi, Kokona.” Ayano greets, unintentionally shocking the girl. Before Kokona abruptly turned off her phone with a sad smile, Ayano spotted that she was texting someone. She gives Kokona a sympathetic look and speaks in a soft tone as she continues. “You seem distracted. Is there anything wrong?”

Kokona opens her mouth to respond, and ends up letting out a tearful laugh as she looks back down to her shut off phone. “I-I really wish I was better at lying at times like these.” She inhales sharply as Ayano pats her on the back and exhales shakily. “I’m just… This week turned out to be such a disaster so quickly. I-I’m just not sure what to do with myself right now.”

“Take your time.” Ayano says quietly, rubbing Kokona’s back. “I’ll wait.”

After a moment of a few deep breaths and blinking rapidly, Kokona speaks up. “Riku couldn’t come today- or more precisely his parents wouldn’t let him come and they haven’t told either of us why, yet. I could not stop crying earlier so I sat over here to calm down, and- and then I decided to ask Saki’s parents about her and- and they just–” Kokona sucks in another deep breath and just hands Ayano the phone.

The conversation between Kokona and Saki’s mother was nothing short of cruel. It could likely be excused as dread on Saki’s mother’s part, but that didn’t entirely excuse the things she was saying to Kokona. The conversation starts ten minutes ago with:

You: I’m at the funeral right now. Have you still not heard from Saki?

Mrs. Miyu: If I had I wouldn’t tell you, Haruka.

Mrs. Miyu: I don’t know why you keep messaging me.

You: I’m just worried about Saki.

You: She’s my best friend.

You: She hasn’t contacted me either.

Mrs. Miyu: And she shouldn’t.

Mrs. Miyu: If Saki wasn’t so adamant on following you to that wretched school, none of this would have happened.

You: I know you’re upset, Mrs. Miyu, but Saki made that choice on her own. I couldn’t have told her what to and not to do in that situation.

Mrs. Miyu: Chinatsu shouldn’t have bothered trying to get to know you or your blasted father.

Mrs. Miyu: You’re just like that old wreck.

You: My father hasn’t done anything wrong!

Mrs. Miyu: Except influence you to influence my daughter.

Mrs. Miyu: If you weren’t so “supportive” of her, she would have changed that addiction of hers and wouldn’t have been so susceptible to that girl’s death.

Mrs. Miyu: I guess in the end it’s my fault for allowing all of this to happen.

You: It isn’t an addiction, she just likes sweets!

You: And she’s been trying her best to change her habits. I think she’s doing very well.

You: It’s just that you and others around her are pressuring her to do so at the same time and it’s stressing her out.

Mrs. Miyu: Are you questioning my parenting?

You: I think if everyone was a bit more gentle on her

You: No! Not at all!

Mrs. Miyu: Saki was always so rebellious when it had anything to do with you.

Mrs. Miyu: Constantly sneaking out to watch your “dates” and buying you things with MY money.

Mrs. Miyu: You oughta be ashamed of yourself!

You: I’m sorry.

Mrs. Miyu: Nothing good ever comes from Saki whenever it has something to do with you.

You: I’m sorry

Mrs. Miyu: If anything, YOU are the most suspicious person to me since YOU seem to have SO MUCH control over her actions!

You: I promise I wouldn’t do anything to hurt Saki

You: I’m so, so sorry

You: Just please don’t talk about her as if she’s already gone

<This number has blocked you. Any further messages will not be sent unless you are unblocked.>

“Kokona, that’s…” Ayano starts, but stops immediately upon seeing Kokona with her knees pulled up to her face, refusing to look up at her.

Kokona sniffs into her dress, her voice shaky and muffled because of the fabric. “Nothing is going right, Ayano. I wish- god, I just wish that none of this had happened. Everything went so horribly in less than an hour, and I don’t know what I’m supposed to do about it..”

It was normal for Kokona to react this way about this whole situation. Ayano just didn’t know what to say about it. Her plan of seeming like a great person backfired as soon as Kokona began crying. She’s never cried, so her mother never needed to comfort her. What would her mother have done in this situation?

“I wish Riku were here. I wish Saki were here.” Kokona pauses, before muttering quietly. “I wish my mom were here…”

Ayano’s mother never comforted Ayano. But whenever she was comforting others, she would often offer a hug. An embrace in hopes of making the other party feel better. That would have to work for now.

Silently, Ayano wrapped her arms around Kokona’s form, which seemed smaller, almost more child-like now that she had hunched herself up. As soon as she did, Kokona leaned her head into the crook of Ayano’s neck and sobbed quietly. Thankfully, there were already other tearful parties littered in and outside of the gymnasium, so Kokona’s breakdown didn’t drag over any attention.

After a couple of minutes of crying and then silence, Kokona leans back and wipes her eyes. “Thank you, Ayano. I’m glad that you’re here, at least.” She says, standing up with her small purse in hand. “I… I probably screwed up my make up, right? I’m going to the bathroom..” She sniffs, slowly shuffling out of the gymnasium.

Ayano’s own dress was now wet with tears on her shoulder, but others probably wouldn’t notice. She didn’t stand up, and instead stared at the phone that Kokona left behind. After staring at it for a moment, she gets a text from her own phone.

Info-Chan: Extra info points if you download me onto this phone as well ;D

That’s really all Ayano needed to see to stand up and stuff the phone into her own bag. She begins walking to the gymnasium door. Before she can leave, however, Kenko appears at the doorway, about to walk through as well. “Oh, Ayano.” He blinks, a bit surprised, but he almost looks relieved to see her. “Hi. How are you feeling?”

Internally, Ayano almost feels drained by all of the mentions about Amai. She was already dead, and Ayano didn’t want to think about her anymore. Of course, it would be foolish of her to think that everyone would be discussing their favorite books at a funeral dedicated to Amai.

“..I don’t think I’ve come to terms with it just yet.” Ayano claims, folding her arms and looking away. “I feel like… all of it just… hasn’t caught up to me yet. I dread when it does, though.”

Kenko sighs, frowning sympathetically to Ayano. “I understand how you feel. This was an event that… no one saw coming.” He tugs at his sleeve and fixes up the tie of his suit. “Shock or not, you seem to be taking this well, Ayano. I’m glad to see that others aren’t too… lost in sorrow despite the events. We might need more calm people like you around.”

Ayano gives a small smile. “Well, don’t say that.. I’m more concerned that you haven’t shed a tear yet.” She says, tilting her head to the side.

“I have. Of course, I have, just… not here.” Kenko says, folding his arms as well. “Me breaking down here would only serve to make others run to me instead of focusing on the matter at hand.” He nods to the stage curtain. “I’m of course not saying that anyone crying is looking for attention. But… I just feel like that’s all I can do for Amai right now.”

He pauses for a second before adding. “..Shoku is the only one who’s invited to Amai’s proper funeral out of everyone in the club.” Kenko pulls out a small picture out of his breast pocket with a frown. “It’s not my right to be upset about that choice. Shoku was closest to her and… it’s her parents’ wish. I won’t try to convince them otherwise, but… I wish I had a chance to apologize to Amai.”

Before Ayano can respond, Ajia suddenly runs past the two, and Seiyo quickly walks after her. Kenko grabs his arm and gives him a stern look. “Seiyo..” He sighs, “I know you don’t mean any harm, but if you get punched, it’s not her fault.”

Seiyo frowns and nods. “I’m… prepared for that.” He says, walking off again as soon as Kenko lets him go.

After Kenko sighs, Ayano speaks up about their topic before they were briefly interrupted.  “You didn’t do anything wrong, Kenko.” She says, patting his arm in an attempt to be comforting.

The gesture seems to work to an extent, as Kenko smiles at her, but not for long. “I know. I did my best ever since she came back. I made sure to. Everyone in the club knows that, and I know she knew that, too.”

Kenko closes his eyes and exhales, raising his hand up not to his tie, but to his neck, rubbing the front of it with an almost distressed expression. “I guess I want to apologize for… for not noticing what she was going through, maybe. Not everyone can talk about their struggles. The line between that resulting from cowardice or bravery is very blurry, but I believe that that makes Amai very strong. I’m… sorry for not being as helpful as I thought I was being. Every one of my efforts this week seems like it meant nothing now that she’s gone.”

Ayano pauses for a moment. Unlike the others, Kenko doesn’t seem like he doubts that he was the best he could have been during Amai’s return. Naturally, this doesn’t leave him without some form of… regret? Ayano wasn’t sure. She never could be. She sighs silently and removes Kenko’s hand from his neck, instead cupping it inside of her own hands. “I know you don’t need to hear this, but I’m sure Amai was thankful as well. I didn’t know her as well as you and the others did, and I wish I had the time to, but… I feel like if Amai had any lingering expectations for anyone, you wouldn’t be one of the options.”

Ayano squeezes Kenko’s hand a bit, and he responds with a genuine smile. “I agree… I think.. Heh.” He shakes his head at himself with a light chuckle. “You’re very sweet to help make me feel better, Ayano. We haven’t interacted much, but I appreciate your kindness. And your help a couple days ago. I hope that after this incident I can get to know you better.” He says.

Nodding to her thank you, Kenko continues past her in order to speak to one of their other mourning peers. Ayano watches him leave for a quick second, at the very least so it didn’t look like she was desperate to leave to others. After that quick second she did indeed walk back to the school.

Thankfully, there were no rules against going through the school halls, even grabbing some stuff if anything was left after the rush on Wednesday. The only thing off-limits was the roof until the tall fence was finished being built.

Similar to the process with Mai, Ayano was able to easily put Info-Chan’s functions into Kokona’s phone. As she was walking out, however, she bumped into one of her peers. Who, as it turns out, was not mourning with the rest of them.

“Oh, hey.” Bea lifts an eyebrow Ayano’s way, before glancing behind her to the rows of computers. “What’re you doing in here?” She asks, looking back at Ayano nonchalantly.

Ayano shakes her head dismissively. “Just needed some time alone.” She says, nodding to the room. “I usually sit in here when I need that time.”

“Hm.” Bea folds her arms with an almost suspicious grin. “Yeah, well, it’s an awfully strange place to mourn. But to each their own, I guess.” She looks down to Ayano’s hand, which was still holding Kokona’s phone. “Ain’t that Kokona’s?”

Looking at the phone in question, Ayano realizes just how easily identifiable the phone was as Kokona’s. She was one of the few who added charms and customized her phone, and her style was very recognizable. Flowers and baked goods stickers and such. “...yes. Kokona left it with me and I forgot to bring it back.”

The reasoning seemed believable enough, as Bea simply shrugged at her response. Before Ayano can excuse herself, however, Bea holds out her hand. “You can keep chilling in here, then, I guess. I’ll take this back to Kokona for you.”

While originally suspicious of Bea, Ayano realized that keeping the phone to herself could be ruled as suspicious in her own right. If anything, playing the “too sad to do it myself” card might be beneficial for Ayano to some extent.

With that thought, Ayano nodded and handed her the phone. “Okay. Thanks.” She says. Bea nods in response and heads back down stairs in order to look for Kokona. For a moment, Ayano will likely have to sit in the computer lab so that her story actually sticks together.

So, Ayano grabs one of the chairs and sits down on it. As soon as she does, she gets an immediate text from Info-Chan.

Info-Chan: Did you do the full process?

Yan-Chan: What?

Info-Chan: Did you complete the hacking process?

Yan-Chan: Yes. I did exactly what you told me to last time.

Yan-Chan: Didn’t you gain access?

Info-Chan: For a moment.

Info-Chan: But Kokona Haruka is no longer on my records of access.

Yan-Chan: I already finished.

Yan-Chan: I should still get my pay.

Info-Chan: Very funny.

Info-Chan: No access, no pay.

Ayano scoffs, standing up and walking back out of the room despite her earlier judgment. She wasn’t sure how much time she had left before the funeral officially started, but she figured that she should use whatever time she had either finding another phone or doing some other task.

That’s when she ran into someone for- who knows how many times by now. Based on the sudden shove Ayano was awarded with, she would have assumed that it was from a student council member she ran into, but it wasn’t. It was a shorter student with long black hair, who wasn’t actually wearing anything dark to support the event, but instead just a variant of the regular school uniform.

The girl glared at Ayano after her firm shove and briskly walked past her, looking left and right as if in search of something. Ayano held a hand to her stomach. Frankly, not even Aoi had given her such a needlessly violent shove- if Ayano were to be dramatic, she’d even call it some form of punch.

“So, you’ve met her.” A voice said in a quiet tone. Turning, Ayano realized that it was Frankie, who stayed to the side until the black-haired girl turned the corner. “Lori, I mean.”

Ayano frowns with a nod. Thinking back, Lori’s appearance and the description Frankie, Hana and Cassie gave matched incredibly well. Short, black haired, clearly very antisocial if not just outright violent. “I guess so.” Ayano says, looking back down the hall to where Lori just left. “Is she looking for you?”

“Yeah. Well, I mean, probably.” Frankie says with a shrug. She barely out of breath, as if she’d been running from Lori this entire event. “I went to the girls’ room to wash up and she was just- waiting there! I think there might actually be a dent in one of the lockers right now from the punch she tried to land on me.”

With an uncomfortable expression, Ayano patted her stomach where Lori had shoved her. “I… can’t imagine what it must be like being actively beaten by her.” Realistically, Ayano didn’t feel much concern for Frankie, but it seemed stupid to allow herself to be harassed and assaulted like that almost daily. “Why haven’t you called the cops yet?”

Sighing, Frankie shakes her head. “I did. Once. But then Lori started, like… crying when she was brought to the station. They took her into another room and next thing I knew she was getting left off the hook.” She shrugs.

Frankie takes another peek past Ayano suddenly, but calms down after seeing that it was just Kuroko down the hall. “She’s been more sneaky about it, I’ll admit. If I’m around a big group of people or something she’ll back off for a while.”

Ayano folds her arms, tilting her head to the side. “So, why haven’t you told anyone? Budo, the staff, your parents I’m sure would do something about it if you told them.” She points out, to which hesitates, pulling her lips into a tight line.

“....well, about that..” Frankie pauses again, before sighing, “...I mean, it’s more- ohhhh shit..” She stops abruptly and speed walks away from Ayano. When Ayano looks at what Frankie had seen, she spots the familiar dark-haired girl speed walking- nearly jogging after her.

Part of Ayano wanted to follow them, maybe help Frankie out, but then she realized that being bloodied and bruised while trying to help likely wouldn’t do her any good- not for a slightly better reputation at least. Thankfully, an announcement on the intercoms interrupted her thoughts.

“The funeral is now starting. Students and staff, please make your way to the gymnasium.”

With one last press on her stomach just to make sure she was alright, Ayano continued on her way to the gymnasium, following the other group of students who weren’t in the gymnasium yet.

__

“Ajia, you– mph!” Seiyo pauses momentarily as his face is met with his own apron after the girl had thrown it at him. He had followed Ajia into the school when she stormed off. It was his presence that caused her to excuse herself from her family and run off, but Seiyo felt like this was a desperate time. Maybe the only time Ajia might even be desperate enough to shut up and listen to him for once. Desperate times do call for desperate measures, after all.

“Always nagging me.. Always SO persistent!” Ajia groans loudly, walking to the other side of the counter to stay at least a couple feet away from Seiyo. “And of all times, too! You just can’t LIVE without following me around, can you?!”

Seiyo was always a patient person, sure, and now he had to be more patient than ever since he was the one pushing his luck. “I-I know, Ajia, you hate me, I’ve come to terms with that, but this is the one time that I need you to listen to me.”

Throwing her arms up in the air, Ajia lets out another dreadful groan. “Of course you do! It’s always been about you, hasn’t it?! ‘Ajia, I need this! Ajia, please listen to this!’ What sort of moron would continuously bother someone who clearly doesn’t care at ALL for what they have to say?!”

Seiyo paused, thinking over how Ajia worded it. She was right, to some extent. He did always nag her. If she ever left the room without them speaking, he would follow her for a couple of minutes in order to tell her something.

It didn’t matter if Seiyo tried to make the topic about something he knew Ajia liked. It didn’t matter if he tried to say one thing and then let her comment on it in an attempt to not ramble on and on. At the end of the day, Ajia just hated him. Again, that was something that he was aware of. He had just also convinced himself that maybe if he took different approaches, tried to be a little bit less of himself, he could find a way for Ajia to stand his presence.

Swallowing a lump in his throat, Seiyo nodded. “I know, I get it. But I know you need help right now, and I don’t want to see you in such a horrible state. It feels… it doesn’t feel nice to see you in such a mess when it isn’t my fault.” He sucked in a shaky breath and quickly added, “And also, it’s not your fault, either.”

“You-!!” Ajia gripped the collar of her dress in frustration as more tears spilled out of her eyes again. She seemed to choke on her own words and gritted her teeth in anger.

“It’s not! I want you to know that!” Seiyo said quickly and loudly, hoping that he could somehow seem louder than whatever horrible thoughts were flooding Ajia’s mind at the moment.

“I don’t care!” Ajia grabbed her phone from her pocket and threw it at Seiyo, successfully hitting him in the eye. “I don’t care what you want! It is! It…” She takes a moment to look at Seiyo’s eye, which he quickly covers with his hand, and his troubled expression.

With several shaky, quick breaths, Ajia’s legs eventually fail her and she crumples to the floor. “It.. It.. It is my… my fault…” She insists beneath sobs, her breath barely coming through correctly through her panicked huffs and gasps.

Seiyo walks over to her side immediately and kneels down next to her. “Ajia, I promise you it’s not.” He repeated, tearing up himself at her dread.

“She.. hhh… she said…” With another shaky inhale, Ajia eventually spits out her words. “She said.. ‘I know you’re a good person deep down’, Seiyo!” She raises her hands to cradle her head as she continues sobbing. “That means- I- I didn’t SHOW her that I was a good person! I didn’t make that OBVIOUS! And now I’ll never fucking get to!”

“Ajia.. that…” Seiyo hesitates, thinking as quickly as he can to decide how exactly he could reassure Ajia.

“How- hic- how bad of a person do I have to be, that… that acting how I have my whole life is enough for someone like Amai to believe that I’m not a good person?! I–” Ajia’s breath becomes heavier and she keeps her eyes shut tight, sick of staring at a blurry, dark floor. “-I’m so- so- horrible! I’ll never be a good per-son and I’ll never- hhh- ever make it up to Amai for everything I’ve done to her! It’s my fault it’s… hhh… my… hhh… Fault.”

As soon as Ajia allowed her arms to fall to the floor, Seiyo wrapped his own arms around her shoulder and kept her close to his chest. For once, Ajia didn’t intervene and simply sobbed into his chest, hardly being able to catch her breath due to the panic and dread running through her veins right now.

After about five minutes, an announcement rang on the intercom, telling everyone that it was time to attend the funeral. Still, though, Ajia hadn’t been able to calm down, and didn’t react to the announcement at all. A couple minutes later, Ajia’s sobs had decreased to muffled heavy breathing into Seiyo’s chest.

As she got quieter, Seiyo gently patted her head and said in a quieter tone, “I know you hate me, Ajia. But I don’t hate you at all. The people you think hate you really don’t, especially not Amai.” He pauses, trying to keep himself from crying as well.

“What happened is something I’m sure we could have helped with, but only if Amai had told us what she was going through.” Again, he felt the need to add. “It’s not your fault, Ajia. It’s none of our fault.”

Ajia didn’t respond, so Seiyo leaned his cheek on top of her head and continued speaking softly. “…I know you hate me, Ajia, and that’s alright. You don’t need to like me at all. But, again, I do really care for you and I admire you. I followed you because I hated seeing you upset, and even if I couldn’t, I wanted to try to help make you feel better.” He gently rubs her back and closes his eyes. “This is going to take a while to handle, Ajia, I know. But you have all the time that you’ll give yourself. …I sincerely hope that you give yourself all the time you need to cope. You don’t need to stay in the cooking club and you don’t need to cook again, but I know you can.”

Exhausted, Ajia’s breathing finally settles down, but she still remains silent. Still, Seiyo stays with her. “I believe in you, Ajia. I always will.”

__

The ceremony was just about as Ayano expected. If anything, it was draining to look as depressed as she did throughout the whole thing. Putting effort into an expression for an extended period of time always was stressful for Ayano.

It was the end of the ceremony, and everyone was either talking again as before, or leaving immediately. Amongst the crowd, Enpitsu seemed to be standing alone. Ayano couldn’t entirely place his expression. It seemed like he was exhausted. He was one to socialize, so maybe he was more affected by the atmosphere than he seemed.

Others that Ayano had spoken to like Tsubaki, who helped bring a bunch of flowers, were just as depressed and almost awkwardly standing alone. Perhaps she was just too uncomfortable to speak with anyone right now. Mai was also sitting alone, just staring at her phone. She had dyed her hair a light, soft green, which didn’t match the color scheme. Apparently, she had done so because it was Amai’s favorite color, and she wanted to honor her for a time.

Toga was speaking with Kuroko, who seemed the most troubled out of the whole student council. As much as Ayano would like to learn more about what they were talking about, she knew that getting in hearing range would arouse some sort of suspicion. So instead she turned her attention to…

…Taro Yamada. He looked stunning in a suit. If only the school uniform were more dull and dark instead of the light color palette it had today. After all of her months of stalking, she realized that he did indeed look better in black, dark red, and darker colors in general. She didn’t know how he did it.

Currently, he was speaking to Osana and Kyuji, obviously about the past events. Maybe they were trying to make him feel better. But, then, that raised the question, where was Raibaru? As Ayano looked around, there was a tap on her shoulder. Lo and behold, Raibaru stood there with a sympathetic smile. “Hi, Ayano. How are you holding up?”

Before Ayano can answer, Raibaru suddenly backtracks and sighs. “Oh, what am I kidding? I guess that’s a pretty stupid question to ask right now, huh?” She says, shaking her head disapprovingly at her own question.

“I appreciate you asking regardless, Raibaru.” Ayano says, holding her arms behind her back. “It’s the thought that counts in this situation, isn’t it?”

Raibaru gives a light sigh but nods. “Yeah, I guess it is.” She says with a sad frown. “I’m not sure how the cooking club is going to be able to recover after this.” Looking down, Raibaru crosses her arms. “I know that I didn’t really know Amai that well, but I know that she was a very sweet person. Everyone knows that. It’s…” She shakes her head. “..well, I guess rambling about it isn’t going to fix my problems. You never did answer, did you?”

Ayano smiles. “I’m doing alright. The only problem I’m having right now is the thought that I may be taking this too lightly.” She says fauxing a nervous look as she looks to the floor. “I didn’t know Amai personally either, so the only thing I’m depressed out, I think, is the toll her suicide will take on the school. Is that… bad?”

“I don’t think so, Ayano.” Raibaru shakes her head, and then offers Ayano a smile. “In fact, it’s pretty noble of you to think of the school at a time like this. Not to say that everyone focused on Amai is selfish, of course. But setting grief aside to focus on bigger, longer-lasting matters is a very mature thing to do.” She points out with a smile, “So, good job.”

As Ayano folds her hands together, she offers Raibaru a brighter smile. “Thank you. That’s relieving to hear.”

“Students. Guests.” A voice called from the microphone. Miss Kunahito stood up there with her own black gown on, and bowed her head respectfully. “We’ll unfortunately need to leave the school at this moment in order to leave the halls and outer grounds open for the fences on the roof to continue being built.” She gave a solemn look, one full of regret and despair as she looked over to the makeshift memorial of flowers, gifts, and pictures set up on the stage. “Say goodbye if you need to, and please make your way to the exit at your own pace. Thank you.”

Raibaru sighs. “I’m going to go check on Osana.” She says, rubbing her hands on her dress almost nervously. “These past events have been… dreadful, to say the least, but I’m sure with people like you around, we can get back to our prime.” She says, smiling at Ayano before taking her leave.

Ayano herself simply left after that whole event. Her presence was known. Her peers knew that she attended the funeral, and frankly, that was all that she needed. It was more exhausting than she had hoped that it would be, but the effort she put into her reputation would eventually pay off.

Info-Chan: Once again, congratulations on eliminating your rival.

Info-Chan: Attending the funeral will show to your peers that you care about their well-being and health :)

Info-Chan: Keep this up, and you’ll win over your Senpai in no time. ;D

__

[nerdyqueerandjewish]

Nothing happened to trigger this but I’m just so mad at my dad and just … sad about our relationship. It’s really unsatisfying though because it’s basically me having an argument in my head because I never see him. I’m sure he is blissfully unaware I have any issue.

We had made plans to play the new Pokémon snap together the afternoon of grandma’s (his mom’s) funeral. It would be good to spend time together and we played the original Pokémon snap on the N64 when I was a kid. It was going to be good. Then it became “actually I’m going to grab a drink with some friends first.” Ok. They went to a bar that is weird and conservative, but he is oblivious to that sort of stuff and how maybe his two trans kids might not want to join him! (Another example - in 2020 he moved to Florida and continues to think it is paradise). We hung out at my mom’s. 7:40 I finally hear from him asking if we still want to get together and game. Not really … being that you’ve been drinking for the last six hours… that doesn’t sound fun to me and it’s been a long ass day and I’m ready to sleep for a hundred years.

And I’m just thinking more of like… my experience growing up. My parents divorced when I was in 4th grade. He had custody of us every other weekend, and we loved visiting him, but! He didn’t even take us as often as he could have! And so many weekends he would drag us to some weird friends house and have me babysit while they went out. We were always sleeping on some random couch while the adults came back and were super loud and rowdy all night. And as a kid I didn’t question this, it was all I knew. But now I know people who share custody of their kids and they want to spend all the time they possibly can with them! Doing things with friends and their kids, totally fine! Many fun times can be had! but like, you haven’t seen your children in months and you’re going to leave them to go out to a bar with your friends?? Then sleep most of the next day?? Hello??

Last two times he called me - first one was to wish me a happy Chanukah and say he loves me, but he was drunk and repeating himself over and over again. Most recent time he was also drunk and wanted to tell me about how the song “Brass Monkey” came on and “don’t you remember that song??” and he was not coherent enough to actually have a conversation with. I try to frame it as like “that’s so nice he’s thinking of me” but ?? if anyone else only called me when they were incoherently drunk I’d stop answering.

I don’t know man. He’s not a bad person, but I just wish he was a better dad.

[altschmerzes]

for those of you playing along at home, i made it through the funeral/memorial/whatever. honestly could’ve been worse.

this is long and probably tmi but im processing out loud ig. probably should just keep a journal instead but here we are.

yesterday sucked ass mostly because like. at some point in the last two years since i started law school/moved to canada my father sent me some package at my grandmother’s house. yes this is after i made it very clear i did not want to see or hear from him. years after i made that clear. he did this fairly regularly - tried to give me things or pass messages through my sister or my mother or grandmother. anyway she asked if i wanted it, i was like. uh. No. and i guess she kept it for Some Reason because when i was very briefly at her house before heading to where the memorial happened today she pointed me at a pile of my things she wanted me to look at and there was a package. and on autopilot or something because ive been completely f r i e d out of my gourd this weekend i made the mistake i havent made in YEARS and opened it.

and i gotta say if i were going to ignore my daughter’s very clearly communicated boundaries and attempt to get in touch with her after she made it extremely clear she did not want me to do that SIX YEARS AGO at the time my go-to method of somehow persuading her to drop her decision to go no-contact wouldn’t involve [checks notes] a pearl necklace and a three-plus page letter about how nothing was ever my fault.

threeeeeee and then some pages of self-pitying guilt trip about how everyone turned their backs on him and other people kept us apart (as if that was the problem, the years of his absence rather than the years of his abuse) and how he knows the alcohol was bad but he’s off it now! he’s had such a hard life! i should stop punishing myself and other people! he won’t be around forever! (ISNT THAT IRONIC. LMAO.) after finishing this letter he TWICE decided he needed to add extra bits about how things don’t have to be like this, they can be better, and how im making “uninformed decisions” about him without knowing “the whole story.”

yikes.

anyways. that sucked and fucked me up real bad but my fiancé and i burned it last night on the beach and i threw the pearls (pearls? really? PEARLS?????) into the pacific.

then today. it was honestly fine. none of his friends seemed to even know i refused to speak to him, as they talked to me like they were assuming i was around all the time and super involved in his life. not sure what to make of that but it made it very easy to smile and nod and thank them for coming and not worry about anything further than that. he knew some cool people honestly. they were pretty neat, and his partner of 11 years, effectively my stepmom, is kind of awesome tbh. no idea what she was doing with him. and also my sister only yelled at me in front of some 50+ people once. for my sister this was a win.

and my brother came.

that was….. shocking. i had been in contact with his mom on and off about this but it was NOT clear at all if he was gonna show up. i figured not, honestly, because he’s so hard to get ahold of and none of us have seen him since 2016. but he came. and he brought his kids. my nephew is going into fifth grade and my niece is starting second and oh my gd they’re great. they’re adorable and funny and such sweet kids and i hand to gd thought id never see them again. now it looks like they’re going to come to my wedding reception when we have one out here so my family can attend something. it’s…. i didnt think id ever see or speak to him again and definitely not the kids. but there they were. i stood next to my brother with his arm around my shoulders and mine around his waist while my mom gave a little speech to everyone who was there thanking them for coming and felt him breathing and couldn’t believe it was real. i dug around in the sand with my niece and my nephew must have hugged me about a half-dozen times. they’re good, sweet kids and my brother is a kind, patient father.

tomorrow’s gonna suck, taking a redeye home, gonna land at like 5 am tuesday and then have to cross my fingers and hope border control is chill with me, this whole situation has been a complete nightmare (except for my wife being there, thank gd) but today was as good as it possibly could’ve been. it’s probably gonna take me a while to really like….. even out from this, i think, but it’s almost over and then i get to live the rest of my life without worrying about ever seeing that man again.

what he did to me is going to follow me the rest of my life but HE won’t because he’s fucking dead and im alive and that means i won.

[phoenixfire-thewizardgoddess]

Thank you to everyone

The fire seems to have been electrical and started in the kitchen. No appliance was on or used in the last 24hrs so it might have been the qiring itself.

My beautiful girl was asleep when she succumbed to smoke and wasnt burned, when they found her. She just Went apparently. After a days distance, i take that a s consolation.

She is with the pet funeral service as they are goi g to cremate her, and she will return in a scatter box to be buried under a tree or plant that suits her personality when the grief is less like a throbbing wound.

Theres a cat tree comingfor her and i think it will be devastating when it arrives. So stupid, i know.

The whole place is torched. Even items not directly hit by flame are smoke damaged or crumble to the touch.

All my books, my clothes, the furniture. And i dobt really care. Its stuff,i will start again bc i have family and friends willing to help

But if i could have had one thing saved, it would have been my bubba, my little girl Zarya my family is distraught over her loss too, they saw her most weekends and when they visited. She was The Baby.

And of all things i was able to save something silly. A little tapastry thing id seqn to hang my badges on. Zarya 'helped' by trying to sit onit with the pins in and was offended when i moved her.. teenagers right? And then helped by playing Attack each time i moved itto putthe badges on.

I will miss her silliness and playful spirit.

Most of them were smoke coated but it came off well enough, a few are still damaged but i am going to try with a rough cloth or something. I cant replace most of them, they were from random kickstaers and shops and such over the years.

I have no undies and myboots melted and my daughter died and all my comics and manga are destoyed... buti got some of my badges back. Stupid isnt it?

The biggest issue is that mosthad thoselittle rubber backs and no qmount of scrubbing will remove the smokey firey smell from them meaning they arent safe to keep. Havr to replace them, have to get new things. Thinking about the safest wayto dispose of them i trash to prevent them ending upchoking fish or wildlife etc

And i think thats the worst part of grief, i have lost people and pets before to time or illness, but never anything like this. So young, so unexpected. So random.

The guilt eats you alive qith WHAT IFs and Could i have's...

There are moments you sob u controllably at a thought like knowing shell never snuggle up in bed like she did every night before... and then moments where everything is neutral and quiet and average. And you feel guilt for actingg like nothing has happened.

Life has to go on, but it hurts to see the wheels turning when shes noton the train anymore.

I have family qho i can be with, qork who will help me find somewhere new to stay as they hold the leases, and coworkers and friends who are sourcing things. I am luckier than many, 3ven with most things gone.

Its just that theres a switch inside that will hit grief at random times, and then snap back to nromalacy for hours until another reminder comes through.

Its so.stupid.

Its not fair and its fucking awful, but it happened and nothing can change it or bring her back. And that is just how random and cruel thw world can be.

My computer was annihilated so the typos are likely all through this. Its silly ut the idea of posting on social media where my friends and mutuals ive had for years are felt selfgratuitous in the worst way.

And over a day from the incident, i feel like srolling through tumblr ot twitter or whatever else is degrading her memory bc thats a normal activity, etc

Which is silly, but grief and anxiety and guilt are all buily into the same package and you never know which one will pop outof the box when the handles cranked.

But again, thank you for holding her little face in your hearts and memories.

She remains so fucking loved its like a physical pain, and that will never change. Forever the baby girl, forever Zarya.

[freedformwriter]

English quartet

Wrote this last weekend but was then too non-covid but basically covid to post. It's supposed to be a return to daily micro-blogs but, meh, long format seems to be my energy at the moment.

4th July, 2024

There are things you notice for the first time when you don’t know how to vote: the suppressed hopefulness of the red-rosette pollster, the beatific care with which the volunteers scan down the registry, but mostly it’s the special pencils. I’ve got a lovely hexagonal half stub in my hand. It’s fatter than the average pencil and in a tasteful monochrome. Most alluringly, it’s labelled the property of the UK Government. The urge to untie it from the rickety booth and slide it into my pocket is almost overwhelming. I wonder if there is a black market for these things. I was entirely prepared to vote Green when I sauntered into the Mormon church that doubles as a local polling station. Now I’ve been staring at the same three names for five minutes. And they all belong to one man. Can I really vote for a man with three Christian names? Who keeps such a surplus? It’s suspect. And I’ve absolutely nothing else to base my impression of the candidate upon because I haven’t looked up a single person running in this election beside the incumbent. We were so excited when she won a historic race here in 2017. Now her name is branded with bitter X-fuelled feuds between Terfs and anti-Terfs and she can’t show up for Hustings because of security concerns. Why did I not look up a single freaking other candidate? My government-issued pencil drifts that towards the Labour box. Stop. I close my eyes and do some of those grounding exercises. What truly matters to me in this moment? My friends. My friends’ kids. This second thought sets me off. The sheer helpless terror of being the parent of a trans kid right now is something I cannot even encompass. It’s possible I’m going to cry in the government-approved booth. Fuck this. Mr Three-Christian-Names it is. I’m back out the door, shades on to hide my expression. Thank god it’s a sunny day.

I later learn the Green candidate is a jolly sort who runs the local bike repair charity. And wouldn’t, my friend reasons, the world be a better place if it was made up of people like that?

5th July 

The world has changed and the weather drips from the brim of my walking hat. In my all-black rain ensemble, I feel like a modern-day mourner. I just don’t know whose funeral I’m attending, or even if one is scheduled. The social rupture of the General Election has reopened old fissures. The grief leaked into my friends’ last-night communications, the ones who poured themselves into the Labour movement in the Corbyn years. Their momentum is now officially a stumble, in the same way we minimise the significance an old relationship once we find The One. Crossing the Stour where the picturesque plankton-filled river takes on punts, I hear a man singing. High above the water, a scaffolder in a harness and bright blue quick dry t-shirt belts out a sentimental ballad about finding love at last. Come on! he calls to an unseen man below. It’s unclear whether it’s a call to join in or to hurry up. My mood lifts. Not everyone is miserable today.

When I arrive at my appointment, the craniosacral therapist opens the door looking like the embodiment of fresh English summer: a floral sundress, pink cheeks, and flowing waves of loosely bound hair. You’re dressed for the weather, she declared. I want to be dressed for her weather. I lie on the table in the beautiful old treatment room in the heart of Canterbury, trying to tune out the fluctuating high-pitched hum of the air purified as she moves her hands around the energy centres of my body. How are her hands so warm? She truly exists in another climate. I try not to think of anything negative, or wildly inappropriate, under her touch in case it filters through. It’s time for her assessment. When you first came in and we were talking, you didn’t seem tired at all but – here she tilts her head to a sympathetic angle – but your body is really tired.

Tonight, the football is back. I’m really delighted at how willing my hosting friend is to join me. I’m backing Portugal despite the nausea-inducing presence of Ronaldo at the helm. She is supporting France because she enjoys going on holiday there. I’ve previously signed off on similar claims about the superior charms of Spain and Turkey – better food and more attractive men – but I draw the line at France. Why? They’re the villain, I say. What, as in some kind of ancestral enemy of England? Yes..maybe… I don’t know. My relationship with the technical country of my birth is complicated. The England-France rivalry is not. France plays their role so well: producing grand triumphs followed by epic collapses. They are an incredibly satisfying antagonist and for that reason alone, yes, I will always root against them. Mbappé even obligingly wears a black mask. Whether they are a mustachio-twirling villain, a protesting troubadour, or a stranger in this town, we always need the man in black.

6th July

No problem, I will just read some Cervantes. This is not the response I am looking for when I announce the England game is about to start. Especially as the man speaking is sitting in the very middle of my friend’s sofa. Technically, I am just as much of a visitor as he is, but this is the television facing sofa and why can’t he read classic literature on the other one with the non-optimal angle? But I can already tell tonight’s entertainment will be a hybrid experience. He and my friend are prepping for the open mic she hosts tonight. She has tap shoes and a slide whistle out for a Klaxons style mating dance. He’s got the book open to the passage in which Don Quixote attacks some marionettes. The night’s theme is puppets. Pick a side, I tell him, and slot in prepared to do battle.

Men, particularly older men, always find something comical in my watching football. Tonight is no exception. Oh listen to you, you could be the next Gary Lineker, he says after twenty minutes. I’m not sure if it’s the Americanness or femaleness – probably both – but I get these comments lot. Where is my can of lager? Can they hear my football bellow? I infinitely prefer watching with women who discuss the match, rather than my watching of it. But as the minutes tick on, and England isn’t playing absolutely shit, something a bit special happens. This man has always struck me as an art and music lover for whom London is the centre of the world. Now, through the medium of share viewership, we’re transported back to his boyhood in Middlesbrough. He’s not nostalgic for it – horrible place, god the accents – but is channelling the energy of the rough, mid-century stadium he attended every weekend all the same. I remember a chant we did for the opposing fans, he announces, then changes his voice: you’re going home in a Teesside ambulance – oi!

I traipse into the open mic event late – worth it for that penalty shootout – and watch the mating dance. Then a woman in Birkenstocks works a skeleton puppet through a synth performance (absolute fucking genius). During the inevitable ambient musical interlude, I make the Franz Kafka marionette journey through his own dreams. At the end, we are all instructed how to make a swizzle, the technical term for the bit of card and spit that transforms your voice into Punch. Terrifyingly loud, it would attract attention in even the most raucous stadium.

Do you want to go to a mummers’ play? My friend issues this invitation while I’m still groggily stretching myself out on a Sunday morning. It’s this kind of impromptu invitation that more than makes up for the mental overwhelm I often experience staying here. Camped in her overfilled central living space, my control-obsessed brain has to ignore the old rescue furniture, the new music equipment, and theatrical props accumulating by the door. But the Jack-of-the-Green costume – a sort of burlap cage denuded of its festive vines – is not just an unwieldy obstacle, but a connection to a whole performance community. The sort who revel in arcane folk traditions. I take my porridge with berry compote in the car and we’re off to Sandwich. I forgot what an absurdly charming town it is. We used to ride our bikes here on long summer weekends, stopping at, yes, a sandwich shop attached to a posh deli.

The pageantry is in full force when we arrive at St Peter’s Church. A blonde woman about my age in a white rugby shirt emblazoned with ‘George’ is going several rounds with a fire-breathing dragon. Parking ourselves on the curb, we cheer as George dispatches the dragon with the aid of protective potholders. Next, we have the French knight. Sir Fleur de Lis, with his waxy moustache, withdraws a white handkerchief. George counters. The fight very much resembles the troops of Morris dancers taking over the town for this folk and ale festival. This, I say to my friend, is why we root against France in the football. It’s just another form of pantomime.

The dispatched French knight now lies on the ground, a lance projecting from his body at a 45° angle. An incredibly tall man in a long white doctor’s coat, a top hat, and myopic spectacles seeks help from the audience to remove the weapon. Is there no one in the audience who can help remove the lance? He approaches a little boy who stares up with wide terrified eyes, then a little girl who ducks into her father’s side. Sensing that there are no sufficiently patriotic children to take up England’s Excalibur, the doctor approaches my friend, child height from her position on the pavement. Do you think you can pull it out? She hops up and runs to the fallen French knight with what I can only describe as a scamper.

After she hoists the lance – huzzah! – and the knight is at last resuscitated – ‘When all else fails, drink some Kentish ale’ – we move about taking in the food stalls and more flag-waiving dancers in tabards. Do you remember we saw that one old man perform the ‘The Ladies’ Fancy?’ my friend asks me. It was in Cambridgeshire; and I do. Ribbons were involved. English villages are so weird. Am I really thinking of moving back here?

[killing-time-w-kaz]

I was on IG and my friend posted this photo of a cat. And something in me just cracked.

I have no idea who this cat is but it looks identical to my Nausicaa who died in august.

I forgot how hard grief can hit when you’ve been holding it back. It just plows through. Especially when all of it is held in the same corner of my heart.

And I carry a certain guilt around her death. I wasn’t able to be there when she was put to sleep, because I had gone back to school just days before and there was no way for me to make it back in time. I was on the phone when it all happened, it felt so disconnected. I refused to let my grief consume me, since I need to stay on top of my college work.

And when I was able to go back home for fall break, I couldn’t grieve for my cat because I was barely holding it together after October 7. I broke down in tears when one of my professors had asked if I was doing okay, because she noticed I wasn’t anywhere as energetic as I should be in an archaeology museum.

And I was in the middle of my senior seminar when my parents told me Nausicaa finally came home. It was a miracle I didn’t start crying in class after seeing her box of ashes sitting next to her favorite spot in the apartment (and yes, Ponyo did try to sit on her box). Which brings up more buried grief.

I grew up with two cats, Isabel (the mostly white cat w gray spots) and Phoenix (the mostly gray cat with the old man). They were my mom’s cats, but I was very attached to them and it broke my heart when Phoenix died 4 days before my 11th birthday.

I never had time to fully grieve her death because my grandfather died a month later. And I carry a guilt over his death because the last thing I ever said to him was “I will see you next weekend”. And he died 3 days later while I was performing in a school concert. I refused to go see him at the funeral home, the image of Phoenix dying in the vet table was too fresh in my mind. And so I never truly had the chance to say goodbye to him. I don’t know where his ashes are. All I know is that he and my grandmother will be buried together when she dies—I am scared of the day she does. And that September, my grandfather’s nephew also died, and I wasn’t able to make it to his funeral because I had to go on a school sleepover trip.

I got Ponyo and Nausicaa in November 2013, so they briefly overlapped with the ancient Isabel. She liked Nausicaa, as seen in the photo above. She was 19 when we had to put her to sleep in December 2013. And I covered the loss of all four family members with the two new kittens. Isobel’s ashes rest on the bookshelf next to the window, where Nausicaa now also rests.

I was organizing my parents’ old photos when I came across the photo of Phoenix and Grandpa—I felt a pang in my heart when I saw it. And shortly after I went through those photos, I left for Portugal to do field work. I left two healthy, 10 year old cats at home. And on the last day of the field session, while we were breaking down site, I missed a call from my mom:

When I got to town, I broke away from my teammates to take the call. And that’s when I found out that my sweet girl had suddenly gotten cancer, which was moving so fast and aggressively. At first I tried to hide from the remaining archaeologists, because I couldn’t let myself be seen breaking down in the middle of town. But that completely failed when I got to the lunch table. And my supervisors and teammates were understanding—I still laugh fondly at their attempts to comfort me (that’s a story for later).

But it was devastating thinking that my little cat was dying an ocean away. But she held on for the week—my parents came out to join me in Portugal, leaving her with a family friend who took very good care of her. And she held on for two more weeks once we got back. It was exactly 21 days from when I got the first phone call to the last video call. But in the end, I still wasn’t able to be with her in her last moments. I had a shift at my job that I couldn’t skip and I was visiting my grandma the next day. I gave myself the weekend to grieve, then I threw myself into my part time job, school work, and social life. And in short succession, a very old family friend had a stroke and died, another family friend died after a steep mental decline, and a friend/colleague of my parents (who I knew) lost his fight with cancer.

And I often feel like I have to be the strong one in my friendships. And when October 7 came, I found myself holding my friends as they broke down. And Jewish underclassmen know they could always come to me if they need a hug or a shoulder. My campus best friend and I have adopted an absurd number of underclassmen this way, some of them even refer to us as their “mothers”. But I never took time for myself. I work the most hours at the bookstore, partially so I don’t spend time just with my thoughts.

And seeing that photo on IG brought all these emotions back in a flood. I just needed to put them somewhere so they don’t continue to eat away at me. The more I tell these stories, the less they hurt. So thank you for listening

[e-devotion]

Monday mind dump

So many things run through my mind as we close out the weekend and move in to a new week.  A few years ago I would share something called a “mind dump” on Mondays to simply unload all that went on during the weekend.

So I will jump back to the mind dump and share just a little of the overflow from the weekend!  Remember this is not bragging or gloating but to sharing what is on my mind.

Proverbs 20:7  NLT  

The godly walk with integrity; blessed are their children who follow them.

Last week was full.  It had opportunities of all kinds as well as meetings.  But the best part of the week was time with our oldest daughter.  She lives thousands of miles away, and she came to visit her new nephew as well as the rest of the family.  Having adult children is very different from having children at home.

Cherish the moments you have with those you love.  We enjoyed breakfast several mornings.  We enjoyed some afternoon talks and time with her mom and brother.  It was sweet.  Enjoy the time together.

Another of the things from this weekend were what I am going to call “bookends” of sorts.  On Saturday I had the honor of performing a wedding from a great couple.  I have known the groom for over 20 years.  On Sunday I had the honor of sharing at the funeral of a friend’s sister that lost her battle with cancer.  This sister is not much older than me.

The bookends honestly reminds me of how short life is and how precious life is.  We have to enjoy the moments.  Make some memories.  Love and serve others as we have the opportunity to do.  People really do matter, and God loves people more than anything.

James 4:14  NLT  

How do you know what your life will be like tomorrow? Your life is like the morning fog—it’s here a little while, then it’s gone.

As the weekend ends and the new week begins I look back at the last month or two and realize it is also a fog of many miles, lots of work and great times I got to be part of.  Then I look over at my precious wife.  We enjoyed a few moments together on Sunday that further reminded me that we have missed each other because of how busy we have been.

I am going to choose to spend time with her and work on our routine that both of us need.  She needs it more than I do.  We are a team, and we are stronger when both of us are rested, communicating and loving our family together.

Church was good.  Time with some friends and watching some others grow was so good.  Lots of overflow that I am grateful for.

And moving forward what I know is that I have to take care of myself.  Many call that self care.  Good choices are important.  Taking care of the people closest to me and loving each of them is important.

May we be able to see ourselves and others as God sees.  Blessed and ready for what is next.  Trust God through it all

Philippians 1:6  NLT  

And I am certain that God, who began the good work within you, will continue his work until it is finally finished on the day when Christ Jesus returns.

[elijahkelly]

8/20/2023

I'm going to start by quickly going through some stuff that has been going on in my life that is huge and I would love to talk about later, but is not the purpose of this post.

Firstly, I got food poisoning from Cookout. It was so fucking horrible and I was incredibly miserable for a week, I went over 5 days without eating, and it not only took a toll on me physically, but also mentally. In conjunction with not being able to keep down my Prozac, being bedridden and helpless for a week while you watch your body destroy itself really ruins the self esteem.

Next, a friend of mine passed away last weekend. We worked together at my gym and he was always a fun and energetic person. Some shitty cards were dealt his way, and it was just too much for him. We went to his funeral this past Thursday, and it's been pretty tough for all of us who knew and loved him.

I was also recently made aware that Dylan does in fact have an engagement ring somewhere. He has already bought it, some people have already seen it, and I will be engaged soon. Like, within the next few months, presumably. He said he doesn't know if he's going to do it in the winter or the spring.

Two new people moved into my apartment. Dawson, who took Heather's room, and Aysiah, who took Dylan's room.

Lastly, we started classes last week! I am officially a college senior, and this time next year I will have a college degree. I am incredibly nervous, however, about the grad school search.

Those were pretty significant things that have happened lately, but were not my reason for writing this.

I wanted to make this post to voice my neuroticism about a situation that has really been stealing my focus as of late. I ran out of my Prozac shortly after getting over my food poisoning, and I will not be able to refill that prescription until I make an appointment to meet with my psychiatrist to see if any adjustments need to be made to my medication. So for the last week, I have been off my meds. I felt fine at first, but the last couple of days it has become glaringly obvious that I need to get back on them.

Because I've been off my meds for so long, I have been incredibly sensitive about my relationships with my friends. Specifically, Trent and Ozzy. They have quickly become two of my best friends, and they have also become incredibly close with one another. They have started hanging out with one another very often, which is fine of course. Off my meds, though, I think my brain is struggling to handle them being better friends with each other than they are with me. I have been so confident and self-assured lately, but that's been disrupted by my lack of medicine, so my insecurities of being outcast have started to resurface. Suddenly I really care when they spend time together without me, because my brain chooses to think that it equates to them liking me less. The logic behind it is that the more they spend time together without me, the more they might think that they don't need me.

There is another thing though. A couple nights ago, I went to a party with Dylan, Ozzy, Trent, and Grant. After the fact, Ozzy and Trent came back to my apartment with me and Dylan, and we sat in my room and talked for a while. Ozzy then said he was going to take Trent home, and they left. Being neurotic while also making sure they were okay, I watched their locations after they left. And I watched as both of their location icons went to Ozzy's house. Ozzy told me he made it home, but I never heard anything from Trent. I could see, though, that they were both at Ozzy's house. And I'm not going to lie, it made me upset. They went off to hang out together without me. I felt unimportant, forgotten, small. But I'm close with them, so I was comfortable mentioning how I felt. I texted Trent about it the next day, and he proceeded to tell me that he and Ozzy made out that night. That did not make me feel better. I, being in a relationship, have no right to speak on who decides to do anything with whoever else. But it didn't feel great to read that my two best friends were off behind my back making out and shit. I guess I'm nervous that they'll have some issue come up between them and it'll throw a wrench in our relationships? Maybe I'm upset that them doing this stuff together is solidifying a position where they like each other more than me. I don't know. But it sucks. They have full autonomy, but their actions made me feel like shit, and those feelings are just as valid as their decisions.

I don't know if I want to talk about it much more right now. Typing it all out honestly made me a little more upset about it, so I'm gonna end this here and brood for a while.

Bye for now.

[ainelane]

This post is more of a rant/clear my mind post so it wont be tagged and hopefully will be buried on my blog. But, if you do read this, there are a few trigger warnings for; death, cancer, suicide, and grief.

4 years ago, I lost one of my best friends to lymphoma. It was in a word terrifying. I've always been a quiet person. I've always felt being there for people was enough, and i was there for her through everything. When she got the diagnosis, i immediately was there for her, treatments and chemo, through remission and recurrence. One day, i held her hand and nodded at her when she said goodbye. The next day, she was gone before I could get the time to come and visit her. A lot of our friends couldn't be there to support her, and there was a lot of guilt all around. I honestly think i felt the most guilty because i left so many little things unsaid that i should've put to voice. Maybe if i was a little more comforting or said something more, she'd have that little bit more strength to push through. I watched her die and didn't even properly say goodbye. I still dont know how to feel about losing her when we were kids, we made up this secret society called the immortal society (IS). I dont remember where the idea for it came. But, the IS was about seeking eternity and spending it together. It was mostly a game, but there was a bit of magic behind the idea of all of us playing together.... well forever. There were 4 of us then now there's only 2.

10 years friend to suicide. I moved away to live with my dad in a different state. I messaged her everyday online, but it felt like we were growing distant. I'd message her and get a reply maybe once a week. So, the message every day slowly turned to every week, then every other week. At some point, i realized that she'd just stopped replying all together, and i felt ... It's hard to put into proper words, but it's like an intersection between sadness and bitter anger. I did my best to hold onto her friendship, but she just let it slip away. She named me on her suicide note. She didn't blame me, but that didn't help me feel any better about it all. I think back to being a kid and how much her being around meant to me and what i could do to hold on to her just that bit harder. I felt a lot of things when she died sad, bitter, angry, lonely, and confused. I tried my best, but she still left me left all of us, and i was here with all these heavy feelings and the guilt of wanting to blame her for making me feel this. The funeral was the first time in a few years that the IS was together again. We said goodbye to one of us for the last time for the first time.

The second time now were were down to two. Recently, our birthdays passed. Our birthdays are close 2 days apart so we decided to spend the weekend together. We took a long drive out of state to where we all first met and talked drank and relaxed. I want to hold onto those memories forever. I guess the dream of the IS isn't really dead in me just yet. Honestly, at this point, I'd take just a little longer with her here with me.

These feelings have been stirring up in me a lot more with the recent death of one of my favorite content creators, thick44 from neebsgaming who lost his fight against cancer, following the lost of another of my favorite content creator's technoblade, who also lost their fight against cancer. I didn't know them personally, but experiencing losing a loved one to cancer has made their losses feel so much more devastating, knowing what their families and friends are going through.

[artzee-bee]

Not going anywhere | Lucifer Morningstar x reader

Fandom: Lucifer

Request:” Hi i have request for you ,Lucifer and the reader have a big fight they are married, and this fight it's lucifer fault The reader leaves home and Lucifer decides to give her space After a few days, he goes to the reader and realizes that she has been missing for a few days,When the person behind all this claims that the reader is dead and gives them a her body . Everyone thinks that the reader is dead and Lucifer He gets depressed and thinks it's all his fault , and after a few days, the thieves release the singer and the reader goes to Lucifer.Lucifer first thinks it is an imagination and then apologizes to the reader Thank you so much”

Genre: Angst with happy ending

Warnings: kidnapping, death

~~~

Your intention had never been to start a fight. All you wanted an explanation (preferably one that also made sense) and an apology, but apparently that was too much to ask, because as soon as you voiced your opinion, Lucifer went up in flames

“Don’t start this again!”

“I dislike it just as much as you do but what I hate more is being cancelled on, AGAIN, through a text message no less!”

“It was an emergency!”

“It’s always an emergency Lucifer! It’s starting to sound a lot like work means more to you than I do!” “The detective needs me, damn it!” your husband yelled

“And she has you! Every day of every week! All I ask for is one date night and for the past month you’ve done nothing but avoid committing to one or backing out at the last second! I’m tired of being your second choice Lucifer! I’m your wife and you are my husband, I love you to the ends of the world, I just wish you'd say no to Decker from time to time...”

“I’m saving people’s lives Y/N. So if you’re not on your deathbed, other people are and they need me now!” as he said this, Lucifer walked right past you and into your bedroom, seemingly ignorant to the painful words he’d just said. You looked around the living room, vision blurry with tears, your chest heavy with anger and disgust. You rushed towards the elevator.

“When you find time in your busy schedule and feel like being my spouse again, let me know!” the elevator door closed before Lucifer could say anything

~~~

When Lucifer woke up the next morning to a cold and empty bed, he didn’t think much of it.Truthfully, he was still kind of pissed at the attitude you had given him a day before, so he got dressed as usual and went to the precinct, assuming you’ll be home by nightfall.

Except when he got home that night, he stopped by Lux first, which ended up like it always does: with him sucked into an endless cycle of booze and dancing, that lasted until well into the night. When he did enter the penthouse eventually, he found it empty. Exactly the way he had left it in the morning. Even the tie he had left on the floor, after deciding last minute that it didn’t go with his suit, was untouched. Now this was curious, but still, Lucifer felt like you must be playing hard to get. He sent you one text message, before going to bed

“Call me when you can!”

The day after that, he figured his part was done! By reaching out first, he had already made a big compromise, so now it was your turn! To reach out, come home! But that didn’t happen that day, or the day after that.

Three days after the text message,Lucifer was getting worried. He was looking at his phone every other minute. Always making sure he hadn’t accidently put it on silent or missed any texts. He sent more messages, telling you he was sorry and that he wanted you to come home. That he would listen and spend more time with you, promising luxurious dates and weekend trips, if only you forgave him. You didn’t even open the messages.

“Lucifer are you listening?” Decker was insanely annoyed at her partner’s lack of concentration

“Sorry detective. I’ve...I’ve got a lot on my mind”

“Well, better get it out of the way now, so that we can move on to our case!” she said, cleaning out her desk quickly, before resting back into her chair “Talk to me!”

“It’s Y/N. I’m worried about her!”

“Why?” “We...had a fight a couple days ago and she left. She hasn’t come back since”

“Have you heard from her at all?”

“No…” Lucifer said, embarrassed at his own lack of care for you. He should have called you earlier, reached out more! He should have tried harder!

“How long had she been missing for?”

“4...maybe 5 days…”

“Lucifer, are you sane? And you’re only telling me now?!” Chloe jumped from her seat, turning on her computer

“I thought she needed space! I thought she was avoiding me intentionally cause she was angry! I didn’t know…” Lucifer choked back a sob, not wanting to break down in tears in the middle of the precinct

“Lucifer!” Chloe caught hold of his hand “I’m gonna find her! I promise you!” A few days later, she did. Well, more like Y/n came to her, in the shape of a pretty little gift box left on Decker's doorstep.

“A lil too late on your case detective” read the note attached to it. 

Inside were Y/N’s clothes, all of them stained with dark, dried blood. Y/N was declared dead that day and the case was closed. At her funeral, only her closests friends were present. Lucifer wanted it to be as intimate as possible.

That day was also the first time anyone had seen Lucifer, since the news. His eyes were bloodshot and the dark circles under his eyes almost matched the black suit he was wearing. Throughout the ceremony he kept twisting his wedding band, a habit he’d picked up on since you went missing. He chose not to do a speech, but once the crowd disappeared, and he was left face to face with your grave, he pulled out a little piece of paper from his pocket and sat down on the grass.

“In hell, everyone feared me. There, I was nothing but another server of the universe, ruling over an empire I never really wanted, because I never had a choice. So eventually I left, thinking anywhere will be better than what I had, and I came to earth.

I ran into you about 2 weeks later, before I really even knew how to behave myself. Before I knew anything about who I really was besides ‘the devil’. I longed to know, grow and discovers different sides of me, where I could be something new, and you gave it to me. You made me who I never thought I could possibly be. You made me a lover. I never thought of myself as capable to love anyone, in any degree, but your light shone everywhere you went and your kindness touched me and everyone around you. It became impossible to not get infatuated with your person. I allowed you to see and feel around every dark corner of my soul and being and every time I thought it was the end. Everytime I would take in your touch as if it was the last, I would prepare myself for abandonment, but it never came. Through everything you stood by my side and when I felt my darkest, you gave me a fistful of your light and that was enough to keep me going. You married a broken man and called him perfect, despite everyone telling you how much of a foul you were. Even then, you shooed them away. Even then you chose me. I wasn’t worthy of your love or your trust and our last night together proved it.

You’re not here anymore to hear my apologies and I’ll never forgive myself for it. You’ve gone now somewhere I can not follow, but I know you are well taken care of there. I hope, someway, somehow, you’ll hear these words: I am sorry. I loved you with my entire soul. Not listening to you was the biggest mistake of my life and I’ll never forgive myself. I choose however, to remember you as you were, because I know that’s what you’d want. I’ll remember you and your laugh.I’ll remember our date nights and shopping sprees. Nights in Lux or on the penthouse balcony. I’ll remember all the meals you prepared for me and the flirtatious remarks you used to make, because you thought they were so silly. I’ll remember the little frown on your face whenever you worked on an important project for work and I’ll remember every evening walk around the block you’d make me accompany you on. I know I always complained about them, but they were always fun. Everything I ever did with you was always fun.

I loved you. I still do. You are my everything Y/N. Thank you for devoting yourself to me in all the ways that you did. I’ll forever live on in my heart.“

~~~

It had been months since your disappearance. After all this time, you finally managed to escape your kidnappers and report them to the New York police station, since that’s where you had been held hostage for so long. As soon as the paperwork was done and you were sure that the people who ruined you were getting the punishment they deserved, you jumped on a train and headed straight back home. Straight to Lucifer.

Lux looked exactly the same as you had left it. You were washed over by a wave of comfort that almost brought you to tears. Home. You never thought you’d get to step in here again. Overwhelmed, you took a seat on one of the couches, allowing your head to rest back on it, as you took in every detail of your surroundings: the feel of the leather on your fingertips, the cool breeze of the air conditioning, the warm lights. Everything was still here.

“Y/N?” you jumped at the sound

“Hi love…” your voice broke as you said those words. Words you never thought you would be able to mutter again. The sight of your husband, messy as he was, made you weak in the knees. He was standing at the top of the staircase, dressed in nothing but his robe, tied carelessly around his waist. He had probably just woken up. You wanted to say something again, but before you could, he laughed

“Nope” he said simply, before making his way down the stairs and to the bar “I’m not doing this. Not today, not ever!” Lucifer filled his glass to the top with bourbon, before turning around and trying to leave back to where he came from

“Lucifer, it's me!”

“Sure you are, except you’re not real! Nice of dad, taking my ability to stay endlessly sober, getting me drunk, forcing visions of my dead wife onto me to teach me another lesson about managing my emotions. Real clever, except this is too much! So I’m going to enter that elevator and I expect to never have to see you again, hum? Right, well, au revoir now!” he continued on his way, but before he could get far, you were clutching on the silk tie of his robe. Lucifer felt the tug around his waist and turned around slowly to look at you, this time a little more unsure. As if he was trying to figure you out

“Lucifer, I’m Y/N. I escaped”

“Escaped? But that’s impossible, she died! I saw it-”

“What you saw was a bloody shirt!” he looked up to meet your gaze, tears already forming “They lied to you Lucifer”

Finally, it seemed like he had connected all of the pieces of the puzzle. The glass of alcohol fell to the ground and your husband wrapped you in a big hug for the first time in months. He nuzzled his head in your hair and took in your scent, your figure, your warmth. Hell, you were even more perfect that he remembered! Silent tears fell down both of your cheeks as you collapsed to the ground, still holding onto each other for dear life

“I’m so sorry” Lucifer sobbed in your hair “I’m so so sorry”

“It wasn’t your fault Luci”

“If I hadn’t been a jerk you wouldn’t have left! If I would have simply listened to you, they wouldn’t have gotten to you! You would’ve stayed here, where you belong! You would have stayed with me but instead I was too busy with my stupid job and the stupid cases and I’m sorry! I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry” he continued crying on your shoulder as you rubbed small circles on his back

“I’m here now my love” you whispered, kissing his cheek “And I’m not going anywhere”

[cheesy-cakey]

note this is a hatter au from a wattpad book I wrote.

You Weren't there

Kalim X Reader Angst

We had graduated.

We got married.

He inherited his family's riches.

We had a son.

We were happy...

We WERE.

I gazed out the window of my quarters.

I was no longer a Hatter... I was now an Al-Asim.

The Hatter name had died out the moment I decided to be a part of Kalim's family. I still owned our land and property. But I had no use for it.

I thought that this was going be our happily ever after.

Holding the one I love close. Kalim embracing me and our son.

But I guess reality doesn't have a happy ending... Especially us Hatter's.

As I watched the scene out the window.

In the garden was Kalim... With his 2rd wife and daughter.

Yes, that's right. I may be Kalim's first wife... but that doesn't mean I'm the only one.

I watched as he held her hand while with the other he carried his daughter.

I moved away from the window and sat on the plush bed of my quarters.

"How could I be so stupid. How could I be so blind. why did I think... That out of all the people in the world. I would have a happy ending." I muttered to myself as I leaned back on my arms tears pricking out of my eyes.

I went back to the window watching them hold each other close. I traced my hand on the glass feeling the coolness of the material.

I kneeled on the floor hand on the window sill while the other was on the floor.

"If happy ever after did exist~" I sang as I wrapped my arms around myself.

"I would still be holding you like this~"

"All those fairy tales are full of sh*t"

"One more f*cking love song I'll be sick" I sobbed as I was never meant to have a happy ever after.

3rd POV

Little did Y/N know that someone came to visit.

Watching through the crack from the slightly opened door.

Ali Al-Asim watched as his mother broke down crying.

"Why... why of all people... why does it have to be mother that suffers?"

He walked away knowing that it's better to not disturb her like this... He knew seeing him would just remind her of the happy ending she could've had.

He returned to him quarters and sat in one of the chairs in his room.

"Mother... You shouldn't be suffering like this... You told me father loved you... You said he loved you more than the stars in the sky... then why... why does he treat you this way? why does he neglect you? weren't we happy? weren't you happy?" He leaned his head back as tears pricked out his eyes.

"I never get to see you smile anymore. The smile that could shine brighter than the sun. Your eyes became dull... no longer full of hope and happiness like the stars."

he slammed his first into the table Infront of him as tears fell from his face.

"WHY DON'T YOU HAVE A HAPPY EVER AFTER!?"

The 15 year old couldn't bear to see his mother like this...

He's seen her cry too many times...

-Time Skip-

It was Ali's 16th birthday.

Which means a big celebration...

But his mother as much as she wants to attend she couldn't bring herself to leave her room.

The Hatter that used to be full of life, laughing, singing, dancing. The Hatter that enjoyed parties and seeing her friends smile... lost her spark.

-At the celebration-

"Happy Birthday, Young Master, Ali!" The servants cheered.

"Happy birthday, My son!" Kalim exclaimed as he greeted his first born.

"Thank you, Father!" Ali exclaimed with a smile.

"You're 16 now, which school do you wanna attend, Ali!?" His father asked excitedly.

"I want to go to Night Raven College! That's where you went to right, Father?"

"Yes, I did! Me and your uncle Jamil went there together!"

"Then it's settled, NRC it is!"

"I could have the headmaster make you dorm head as well!"

"No, Father. I wish to become dorm head with my own skills." He stated.

"Haaaah? fine, if that is what my son wants. Now everyone! enjoy the party!"

he walked away as he went to meet other guests.

A lot of people were here. His uncles from NRC. His Friends. even his half sister.

But there was only one person Ali wanted to be here.

Ali stood up from his seat and sneaked away.

He went to the quarters of someone he held dear.

he knocked on the door and heard a come in.

"Good evening, mother" he said with a soft smile.

"Ah! Ali, Happy Birthday" She replied with a tired but loving smile.

she was sitting by the window with it being wide open allowing the wind to enter.

He went closer the his mother and kneeled beside her.

"How are you feeling?" Ali asked.

"I'm feeling very well. So how is your birthday?"

"Nevermind the birthday. I just want to stay here with you" he said as he buried his face into her dress resting his head on her lap.

The lady giggled at her son's statement, watching him with caring eyes.

"I have a present for you" She said as she brought out a box.

Ali raised his head.

"Mother... you didn't have to" he said as he received it.

"Oh, but I do. this is something I've been meaning to give you"

Ali opened the box to see a top hat, a golden silk snake wrapping around the hat with a single Jasmine flower.

"It used to be mine. Sometimes in the Hatter family we give it to the person we marry but sometimes we also keep it. But this time it's time to pass it on to the descendant. I redecorated it for you. do you like it?" The elegant lady smiled as she remembered her memories with the hat and proud to be able to hand it down.

Ali looked as the hat.

"I love it... thank you mother" He thanked as he lied down on her lap once again.

"I'm glad you do, my dear son" She placed a hand on his white hair exactly the same as his father's.

Sher stroked his head gently as the moon shone down on them through the window.

-Timeskip-

It was now time for Ali to go to Night Raven College. He said farewell to everyone and as he was about to get on the Ebony Carriage he looked up to a window to see his mother smiling at him. he smiled back and entered.

-at the dorm sorting-

Ali was up next to be sorted.

"State thy name"

"Ali Al-Asim"

"The shape of thy soul... I see you best improve in Scarabia."

He stepped away from the mirror and joined the other students that were sorted into Scarabia.

He will make his mother proud.

-Time skip-

It had been a week since he had arrived. And just like that he had became a dorm head not from money but from skill.

He was currently in potions taught by Professor Crewel.

His phone then suddenly rang.

"Excuse me, Professor. I need to take this call"

"Of course, pup. but next time I won't be allowing it."

Ali answered his phone and it was one of the servants.

He was analysing his potion while he answered.

"What is it? I told you not to call me around this time because I'm in class."

"Apologies, young master. But it's about Lady Y/N"

"Mother? what about her? does she miss me? tell her I'll visit this weekend."

"It's not that sir"

"what is it then?"

"she umm"

"spit it out"

"The lady has passed away"

Ali suddenly dropped the beaker shattering it to a million pieces.

"Al-Asim! bad pup! what are you doing!?"

Ali stood up knocking his seat over. He slammed his hand on his desk that still had the shattered glass and spilled potion. good thing that the potion doesn't give much effect since it wasn't finished.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN PASSED AWAY!?" He yelled as tears pricked from his eyes.

"Al-Asim?" his professor called out worried.

"I mean what I exactly said, young master. The lady passed away earlier this morning. when the servant went to serve her breakfast she didn't wake up. they tried waking her up then realized she wasn't moving. they called a physician... and he said the lady had passed away"

"no... you're lying"

"Ali Al-Asim, what's wrong? Get your hands off the desk your starting to bleed." Crewel said as he took the boys hand from the broken glass and started cleaning it.

"Mother... is she really dead?"

"yes, sir"

"wait... your mother?" his professor asked

"As in... Y/N? she's... no longer with us?" his eyes wide as saucers.

Ali fell on his knees tears spilling not showing any signs of stopping any time soon.

"Mother... no... no... no no no NO! SHE CAN'T BE GONE!" He sobbed.

"Ashengrotto, take him to the infirmary to clean his wound up. The rest of you dismissed. I need to speak with the head master."

"Yes, professor"

-time Skip-

currently Ali was in the head masters office.

"Al-Asim. I heard what had happened. I'll let you go home for as long as you need. I apologize for your loss. You can use the mirror to go home." Crowley said as he watched the boy sob.

he himself wanted to cry since one of the most lovable students he had, had passed away.

"Your mother... was an incredible woman. Not only as a student but as a friend to the rest. It's a shame she... had to leave us so early. I thought that maybe... I'd be dead by the time she leaves."

"Thank you, headmaster... I'll be... heading out now" Ali exited the room and went to the mirror and went home.

Once he had arrived he was greeted by the servants but he just walked right pass.

His sister also greeted him, but he continued walking.

soon he arrived at his mother's bedroom. He saw her... looking like she's sleeping soundly... knowing she's never waking up again.

He walked to her bed side. held her now cold hand and feel to his knees and sobbed uncontrollably

"Mother!... Why.... WHY DID YOU HAVE TO LEAVE! I WAS GOING TO GIVE YOU THE HAPPY ENDING YOU DESERVE! BUT WHAT!? YOU ENDED YOUR STORY WITH LONGING THAT WAS NEVER FULFILLED!? WHY!?" he cried... not leaving her side for the rest of the day.

During her funeral, all her friends from NRC came. Tears spilled everywhere as they found their dear friend no longer with them.

they approached Ali who just stood by her coffin.

"Sorry... for your loss... Ali"

He just kept silent.

For the long duration of her funeral... Not once did his father... the man his dear mother loved and longed for, show up.

This had made the boy even more upset. but that did not overpower the sorrow he had.

-Time Skip-

The funeral had long ended...

His mother was buried...

he returned to school but barely spoke.

"Al-Asim... pup. I suggest you go meet with Professor Yuu. You need it"

Ali merely nodded as he went to his magicless professor who taught about monsters and health.

"Ali... take a seat"

Ali sat down across him.

"You haven't been sleeping have you... you have bags under your eyes. You look pale. Ali"

He just sat there.

"I know... I know you're depressed... Your mother was my vice prefect back in our school days. she was a wonderful woman to be with... she laughed... she sang... she smiled... but you know what I love most about her?"

Ali looked up and looked at Yuu.

"She makes people around her smile as well. She wouldn't want you to act like this. Y/N, She too lost a parent in her younger days. But that didn't stop her from being happy... She always had joy in her eyes... and you know you have her E/C eyes as well"

"So please... Don't let this bring you down. Your mother... Be like her. someone who smiles, laughed and most of all makes others do the same. sure reality doesn't have a happy ending. But you're writing your own story so make sure it leads to one."

Ali thought about it. looks back down... looks at the mirror in the room and looked straight into his E/N coloured eyes.

"You're right, Professor. Even if mother is gone... I should make her proud" Ali stood up with smile.

Ali bowed.

"Thank you, Professor Yuu!"

"Just call me, Yuu."

Ali smiled and ran off back to his dorm and to his room.

Yuu on the other hand stood up and went to the window and looked at the sky.

"I wish... I could've held you one last time... Y/N... I loved you so much" Yuu said as he let the tears fall.

Ali pulled a box from under his bed and opened it...

It may not fit his outfit but it doesn't matter.

he stood up holding the object and went to a mirror.

He looked straight at it and placed the hat he was given on his head.

"I'll prove... that I can give us a happy ending, Mother"

and with that Ali changed... He changed for the better. all the old staff watched him... and it reminded them of someone who they once cherished in this school.

-Time Skip-

it's been 2 years since Y/N's passing. Ali Al-Asim was now 18 years old. A third year.

But what's interesting is. when his 1st year ended the mirror had announced something... He was transferred to a different dorm.

-Flashback-

Just as they were all about to leave.

"Wait... It seems someone's soul had reshaped into something new." the mirror had stated.

"What? but that's not possible" Crowley said in surprise.

"Ali Al-Asim... Step forward"

Ali hesitantly stepped up.

"Yes... it seems your soul had reshaped... though you are still suited to be a part of Scarabia... Your heart... Is perfect for the Ramshackle Dorm"

"Isn't that"

"Your mother's old dorm... well it seems like you're becoming just like your mother" Crowley smiled as he placed a hand on the boys shoulder.

-end of flashback-

And since then he became the dorm head of the Ramshackle. His hat suited his outfit. he was happy.

And right now the 18 year old was going to make a decision that'll change his life.

Currently standing Infront of his father, Kalim Al-Asim. wearing a somewhat butler outfit somewhat similar to that of what his mother wore back in her younger days as a Hatter.

"Father... I don't wish to be an Al-Asim anymore."

"What? could you repeat that?"

"I don't want to be an Asim."

"But son! you're my eldest! you're my successor!"

"And I don't want to be your successor!"

"why!?"

"I want to continue mother's legacy!" Ali yelled as he gripped his wrist behind his back while looking down.

"what?"

"I want to be a Hatter! I want to carry on the Hatter name! I want to do this for mother! it the least you could let me do"

"the least I could let you do?"

"Yes! The most you could do was probably be there for her!"

"Ali"

"You left her all alone! making her cry every night! every night for you!"

"She didn't get her happily ever after! Cause you weren't there there for her! you weren't there for us!HECK She would've been contented with just you being there even if you didn't love her anymore!"

"YOU DIDN'T EVEN COME TO HER FUNERAL!" Ali snapped.

"I know you are aware that You're naive, gullible, oblivious and all that. but please... just see it... the least you could do" Ali looked up and looked Kalim straight in the eyes.

Kalim staring back into E/C colored orbs that was exactly the same as his wife that had recently passed away.

He looked down and took a deep breathe

"Alright"

"Huh?"

"I'll... let you go..."

"Really?"

"yes... as you said... it's the least I could do for not even attending the funeral."

"Thank you... father" Ali smiled as he walked away.

this was a new start for Ali... Becoming just like his mother. Writing a happily ever after for them.

We can't say the same for Kalim though.

He sat at his chair.

His 2rd wife entered the room and sat beside him.

"What did he want?" she asked.

"To leave the family"

"what?"

"He... wanted to become a Hatter to continue Y/N's legacy."

"I see... don't worry I'm here... and besides I'm sure we can make a new heir."

"I'm not in the mood"

"But, dear~"

right then and there Kalim snapped.

"I SAID IM NOT IN THE MOOD!" He yelled.

"BECAUSE OF YOUR DAMN FAMILY THREATENING TO HURT MY SON AND MY BELOVED WIFE I WAS FORCED TO NEGLECT HER!"

"IF IT WASN'T FOR YOUR DAMN FAMILY I WOULD PROBABLY BE HOLDING HER RIGHT NOW WITH ANOTHER CHILD!"

"ALL BECAUSE YOU WANTED ME TO LOVE YOU! YOU'RE DELUSIONAL IF YOU THINK I WOULD!"

"What is it... WHAT IS IT DOES SHE HAVE THAT I DON'T!?"

"My heart... that's what it is... SHE WAS MY EVERYTHING! HER SMILE THAT WAS PRACTICALLY MY SUN! HER EYES THAT SHIMMERED LIKE THE STARS!"

"SHE DESERVES TO BE DEAD! SHE'S NOT FIT TO BE YOUR WIFE! SHE'S NOT FIT TO HAVE YOU! ME, ME, ME! IT WAS ME WHO SHOULD HAVE YOU! SHE'S HIDEOUS! SHE'S DUMB! SHE'S NAIVE! SO WHY WON'T YOU LOOK AT ME!"

"DON'T YOU DARE THAT ABOUT HER! FIRST OF ALL SHE'S THE MOST BEAUTIFUL WOMAN TO HAVE EVER EXISTED THAT EVEN VIL SAID SO! YOU WOULD NEVER BE AS BEAUTIFUL AS HER! SECOND SHE GRADUATED FROM NRC WITH TOP GRADES FITTING INTO THE TOP 50! SHE KNOWS MORE THAN YOU EVER WILL! AND THIRD OF ALL SHE'S NOT AS NAIVE AS YOU THINK! SHE EXPERIENCED THE CRUELTY OF THE WORLD TO THE POINT SHE WAS ALMOST BROKEN! BUT SHE JUST SMILED AND SAID THAT EVERYTHING WOULD BE JUST FINE! I BET YOU WOULDN'T BE ABLE TO HANDLE IT IF IT HAD HAPPENED TO YOU! FACE IT I'LL NEVER LOOK AT YOU THE SAME I DO WITH HER!"

"THAT'S WHY I KILLED HER SO YOU WOULD ONLY LOOK AT ME- MPH!" she clasped her mouth shut trembling from what came out.

"what? WHAT did you just say?"

"n-nothing!"

"WE HAD A DEAL! YOU WOULD LEAVE THEM ALONE IN EXCHANGE FOR ALL OF THIS!"

"I-I didn't mean to!"

"DIDN'T MEAN TO MY *SS! AS IF I'D BELIEVE THAT! JAMIL!"

Soon Jamil entered the room. in truth he was about to enter till he heard screaming and heard the entire thing.

"Yes, Kalim"

"Take her away. make her confess EVERYTHING that she had done. After that could you call Azul? I want to have a talk with him to deal with something."

"Yes, of course" Jamil left with the 2nd wife being taken away by guards.

"WAIT! KALIM PLEASE! I LOVE YOU! DON'T DO THIS TO ME!"

As they all left the room Kalim sat down and tears started running down his face.

"Why was I so stupid? thinking I could protect you without having to hurt anyone but as a result I ended up hurting you... then lost you. I should've dealt with them from the start. I should've just been there for you... now I not only lost you... but I lost our son too... haha! why am I so stupid?"

For the rest of the night Kalim just cried. knowing can never bring you back.

-END-

"isn't that an interesting timeline."

"Didn't know that there would be a bad ending to their story. I hope this timeline won't stick it would be so sad~" a voice said as she closed a book that's titled 'You Weren't there'

soon the book started to become grains of sand.

"oh? what is this?"

"The timeline is disintegrating"

"I guess that means that story won't be sticking around."She then pushed up her glasses as she looked back at the millions of books being written each having a pen that glows with inspiration and life."I wonder who's story would be finished next~ would the story disappear? or will it be part of the official collection?"

"Let's see what endings are in-store~ After all"

"I am the story keeper~"