#not fan copy and paste of the same three words over and over again until you reach 99k

[ithurielkeepsgettingkidnapped]

if i see another till is alive post on ao3 i don't know what i'll do but it'll be on the news

[the-oblivious-writer]

Let the Light In |3|

Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Chapter Three: Nosy Friends and Conflicting Feelings

Summary: You and Tara have been seeing a lot of each other for school purposes. One weekend you're away and Tara has the urge to bother you. This leads to teasing and...confusing thoughts

Warning(s): Swearing, Tara pleading the fifth & mentions of death

Notes: My motivation has been going up and down these past two weeks but I finally finished this chapter so here ya go. Hope it's not shit

Masterlist|Previous part|Next Part

“What exactly are we doing here?” you asked.

Tara was leading you to the roof of her apartment building without saying much—which is strange for her. “I’m bored and we have an exam to prepare for. We’re multitasking,” she finally said while opening a door and walking out on the roof.

“And what’s so great about the roof?”

“I need fresh air. Any more questions, Shitlock?” She raised an eyebrow at you while sending you an unimpressed look.

“Someone’s poutier than usual today,” you said. You took your binder out of your bag as Tara already began on her work. 

“Just focus on your dork binder, dork,” she quipped and slouched in her seat, tucking her knees to her chest and raising the height of her notebook.

You rolled your eyes back to your binder. “Sure,” you said in a monotone voice. You were flipping through the various folders when a thought crossed your mind. The thought had you glancing at Tara, a small, downward smile appeared on your face.

“What?”

“Nothin.’” You quickly turned back to look at your notes. 

“No. What?” she repeated, sitting up.

You looked at her again, your same smile from before threatening to cross your face. “I was just thinking—” you shut your binder, “—this is the perfect place to chuck water balloons at people.”

Tara looked at the edge before returning her eyes to you. “Damn, I should’ve thought of that first,” she said with a reluctant smile. You could see her dimples. She looked… radiant—

“—Don’t beat yourself up,” you said with a wink, edging her on.

She laughed. “Yeah, whatever. You can get back to your dumb binder now.”

You laid one of your hands over your heart. “My binder is not dumb. It keeps things organized and neat.”

“It also keeps girls away,” she stated.

“Your sister doesn’t seem to mind,” you were quick to counter with.

Tara immediately shoved your shoulder. “Can you not?”

“The heart wants what it wants,” you joked.

“You know what?” She stood up. “I’m going inside. Climb your way down for all I care.“

It wasn’t until she shut the door that her words sunk in.

“Wait—what?”

Did the door just click?

You walked up to the door before trying to open it. You turned and shook the handle, but it was no use. 

“She locked me out on the fuckin’ roof.”

—

Tara knocked your apartment door three times. The door opened to reveal Anika. 

“Hey, Tara. What’s up?” she greeted her with a smile.

Tara reciprocated Anika’s smile before responding. “Hey—I think I left my headphone charger here the last time I was over. Could I take a look around?”

“Of course, come in.” Anika opened the door wider, giving room for Tara to walk in.

She walked over to the couch before digging her hands between the cushions. 

“So, you and Y/N seem to be doing a lot of stuff together,” Anika began to comment in the background.

“Hm?” Tara hummed with raised eyebrows. “Oh, that? I guess so. Everybody else in our class has buddied up for any future stuff, so we got stuck together.” 

She felt the edges of her charger but she couldn’t quite grasp it. 

“Oh? I thought you two finished your group project last week,” Anika said, walking over to the kitchen but still within earshot of Tara.

“Yeah, well—“ Tara huffed, her finger tips only grazing her charger, “—our professor seems to be a fan of group work, and I only sit through study sessions so I can copy her notes.”

Anika laughed a little. “Interesting.”

Y/N never lets me copy her notes, she’s so stingy, Anika thought to herself.

At last, Tara finally got a hold of her charger. “Finally,” she sighed.

“Where is she anyway?” Tara inquired while putting away her charger. 

“Away this weekend, visiting family in Brooklyn,” Anika said as she walked back into the living room with two water bottles. She wordlessly handed one to Tara. 

“Oh,” was all the Carpenter replied as she took the water bottle and silently thanked her.

“Did you need something from her?”

Tara shook her head. “No, just curious.”

Anika gave her a subtle look of skepticism. “Alright then. Wanna stay for a bit? I was just gonna put on a movie.” 

“Sure, a movie sounds great.” She then sat down on the couch and Anika joined her. 

Thirty minutes into the movie and Tara’s train of thought kept returning to a certain station. It was extremely frustrating. Even in your absence you were a nuisance. Clearly she wasn’t used to going this long without annoying you. 

But what’s stopping her?

She took out her phone and was quick to press on your contact. 

Tara (1:34 pm) u didnt tell me ud be out of twn

Dork (1:36 pm) Oh, sorry, mom. I wasn’t aware I had to tell you my every move 

Tara (1:36 pm) apoldgy accepted.

Tara (1:37 pm) enjoyg brklyn?

Dork (1:38 pm) Your horrendous typing aside, how do you know where I am?

Tara (1:38 pm) i have my sorces also 🖕

Dork (1:39 pm) Wow. You’re obsessed with me

Tara (1:39 pm) am not

Dork (1:40 pm) Sure, my little stalker 

Tara (1:40 pm) ur so annoying

Tara (1:41 pm) shoulsnt u be w family rn?

Dork (1:41 pm) I’m currently hiding in the bathroom 

Of course she is… Tara thought with a smile.

After an hour, Tara was still staring at her phone; she smiled as she typed away, letting a few giggles slip every now and then. Anika would occasionally look over at Tara with a curious look. She may or may not have had a hunch as to who Tara was messaging.

Anika’s own phone rang with a message from her girlfriend. “Hey, Tara—” Tara looked up from her phone for the first time in almost two hours, “—Mindy and the others are gonna come over in a bit for a movie night. You staying?”

“Sounds good,” Tara said before returning her attention to her phone.

Tara could admit to herself, and herself only, that she missed it a little; your back and forths, the petty comments and insults you would throw at each other. You being a dork throughout it all was just a bonus. But she didn’t miss you—oh, no, that would mean she actually cared for you. And she doesn’t, she could never. You were nothing but a nuisance, and if she wanted to use that for her own entertainment that was her own right.

Mindy and Chad arrived about twenty minutes later. Tara didn’t get up from the couch, only sparing a few greetings. Mindy noticed the lack of focus which led her to tilt her head at her girlfriend, raising an eyebrow. 

Anika shook her head. “Don’t bother. She’s been like this the entire time.”

Those words were all it took for the teasing to begin.

Mindy sat down on the couch, across from Tara, with Anika in her lap. “So, Tara, who is she?” Mindy smirked.

Tara looked up at her friend with furrowed eyebrows. “What?”

“You heard me. Who’s the girl that’s glued you to your phone?” 

Tara nervously chuckled before responding. “That’s ridiculous—you sound ridiculous.”

“Woah, getting pretty defensive there, T. Wait a minute… Is it someone we know?” As Mindy narrowed her eyes at the girl, Tara looked away with an eye roll. “Shit, it is.”

“There’s no girl. There’s no anybody.” Tara was too busy forming a defense to notice Chad peeking from behind her.

“The contact name says ‘Dork,’” Chad revealed.

“Chad!” Tara quickly flipped her phone over.

Anika and Mindy shared a look and a not so subtle smirk. “Anything you would like to share with the class?”

Tara looked between them, a pout forming on her face. “Chad’s a nosy prick and I’m hungry.” She stood up and grabbed her jacket off of the coat rack. “I’m going to the store.”

“Get me something too, lover girl!” Mindy called out.

“You’re not getting shit!” Tara called back before slamming the door shut.

—

“Are you ever going to quit?” Tara said.

You refused to meet her gaze as she stared up at you with her big doe eyes. “No.”

Tara groaned.

It was Friday and Tara was over at your apartment to work on another assignment with you. This, inevitably, meant that you two were doing your typical bickering. 

“If you call me short one more time—”

You finally met her gaze. “Why? It’s true.”

“You don’t have to obnoxiously point it out every chance you get.” She rolled her eyes for the hundredth time that afternoon before putting her book down.

“But it’s so fun.” You couldn’t help but smirk at her unamused expression.

“But it’s so fun,” Tara repeated, changing the pitch of her voice to mock you.

You wore your own unamused expression. “I sound nothing like that.”

“You sure about that raspy?”

You scoffed, almost chuckling. “Whatever, I’m getting water.” You stood up and walked over to the kitchen. 

“Maybe some tea while you’re at it,” Tara said.

“Maybe I can get you some milk. I heard it helps with growth,” you said as you grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and then one of the juice boxes next to it. You walked back to where you were previously sitting with Tara, placing the juice box in front of her before sitting a couple cushions over.

“What’s this?”

You were confused. “What do you mean?”

“What’s this?” she repeated, gesturing to the juice.

“Juice, clearly.” 

How does she know my favorite brand of juice? It’s probably just a coincidence. That’s all. A coincidence. 

“Earth to Ms. Carpenter.” You gently poked her shoulder. “Are we doing this or…?”

“You got somewhere else to be?” she asked mockingly.

“Yes; a stupid date I should’ve never agreed to. Now let’s—”

Tara blinked a few times before cutting you off. “You have a date? I find that hard to believe.”

“Did you come here to talk about my dating life or to work on our assignment?”

She reluctantly turned her head back to her book and mumbled, “Whatever.”

After you two finally finished, you closed your book before standing up, stretching and digging. “Alright. I’m gonna change; you can stay here and do whatever,” you said. You then walked to your room to get ready, Tara never looking up at her phone, only humming in response. 

Since she would be hanging with Anika and others later, she figured she would stay at your apartment until they arrived. After fifteen minutes of scrolling through social media, the door to your bedroom opened and footsteps followed. That’s when Tara look up and at you, taking in your appearance.

You certainly caught her attention.

“I’m off,” is all you said as you grabbed your keys. 

“Y-you don’t look like shit—by the way,” Tara suddenly stammered. 

She wasn’t one for giving you compliments, so her words caused you to turn around with bewilderment.

“Thank you?” You still felt caught off guard as left the apartment.

Tara cupped her cheeks the moment you left, silently pleading the heat rushing to her face wasn’t visible. 

—

You spared yet another fake laugh at what your date considered to be jokes. The only agreed to this because it made a good distraction and Henry had a friend to set up. 

Yet all set you up for was boredom.

Seriously, Henry. An accountant? you bitterly thought as you feigned another smile. 

You don’t know how much longer you could bear hearing about financial mumbo jumbo. Your date needed to find better topics before you died of boredom. Henry had to pay for this. You were never going to go against your anti-blind date rule again. 

Eventually, the date finally came to an end around ten. In your opinion, it didn’t end soon enough. When you stood in front of you apartment's door, you could already hear laughter on the other side. You silently groaned before entering your key.

You immediately felt eyes on you, but you chose not to reciprocate. You just ignored them and made a beeline to your room. You were too busy raising the volume of your headphones to the highest setting to hear Mindy’s teasing remarks.

She nudged Tara’s side. “No wonder she had you all tongue tied when we got here.”

Tara shoved her elbow away. “I was not tongue tied.”

“You were having a full on gay crisis—“ Chad began but Tara cut him off by chucking a die at him. “Um, ow?”

“I did not have a gay crisis! Especially not over Y/N freaking Y/L/N,” she argued.

Anika smirked, joining in. “I briefly remember you pacing back and forth. 

“Was not! I-I was just a little confused about something, but I’m fine now,” Tara managed to get out through the nerves creeping over her. The same heat from hours ago was beginning to rush through her again. 

“I think—“ Ethan was cut off by Mindy raising her hand at him.

“You’re deflecting, T,” she said instead.

Tara blew a raspberry. “Nuh uh,” she said with childish conviction. “Roll the fucking dice Ethan.”

Ethan immediately started shaking the dice in his hands before rolling them. 

Mindy’s look of skepticism never ceased. “Fine, have it your way, but know I will get to the bottom of this.”

“There’s nothing to figure out.” Tara crossed her arms as Mindy narrowed her eyes at her, although she dropped the topic for the time being.

The entire time they were there, you stayed in your room. You laid down in your bed, blasting music through headphones with your arms crossed. Your shoes had been kicked off and you were currently in your pajamas. You may go deaf by fifty, but loud music was good. It was your white noise, a distraction. 

Some may claim your coping mechanisms were unhealthy, but they were your own. 

But does it truly count if you aren’t coping at all?—

You suddenly heard knocks at your bedroom door, so you pulled off your headphones. 

From the other side, Anika inquired, “Wanna join us for pizza? We’re going out.”

“No, thanks,” you were quick to respond before putting your headphones back on. 

Anika returned to the living room and sat back down on her girlfriend’s lap. “She’s a no-go.”

“Mkay. When do you guys wanna leave? I’m starving,” Chad said, rubbing his stomach.

“You’re always starving,” Mindy remarked.”

—

The next day, you were beaten by Tara to class, surprisingly. You slept through your alarm, it was the first time you had gotten a decent night’s rest in weeks.

I’ll take the win, you figured. 

Tara gave you a single glance before looking back to the front of the classroom. “You’re later than usual,” she said, still not looking at you. 

“Was up late, thinking about your sister,” you said, earning yourself a pinch to the thigh.

“You’re disgusting.”

After hours of passing notes and having unnecessary side arguments with Tara, class finally ended. The moment you left, you felt an arm wrap around your shoulder, the figure began to effortlessly walk with you. 

“Sooo, how was your date?” You heard Henry ask. 

“Shitty and extremely boring,” said with a tone that matched the unimpressed look you gave him. “He wouldn’t stop talking about financial junk, and then the stupid pilsners came into play—as if that would grease up the evening.”

He gave you an apologetic smile. “Sorry… Oh! If you wanna try again there this—“

You cut him off. “No, no, no. I’m not doing this again,” you said while gesturing with one of your hands.

“You’re never forgiving for this, are you?”

You sighed. “You are never allowed to set me up again. Ever.”

“Yup. That sounds about right.” He dropped his arm from around your shoulder. “I gotta head to class but I’ll see you around.” You bumped fists before he made his way to his class.

Once classes were over, you started your shift at the cafe you worked at. It was a slow day, so you just focused on the wiping down the counters until someone walked in. 

“Hey,” you heard a familiar voice say. You looked up from the counter to see one of your regulars wearing a charming smile.

“Hey,” you repeated. “The usual?” you asked as you turned around to the coffee maker behind you.

“You know me too well,” she lightly laughed. “Not many people today, huh?” she said as she looked around.

“Yeah. You caught me on a slow day.” You put a lid on her drink before giving it to her.

She thanked you before taking out her wallet. You opened your mouth to say something but she was quick to cut you off. “I don’t wanna hear it. Let me get this one, I don’t need this coming out of your check.”

You playfully rolled your eyes. “Fine,” you sighed and smiled. You took the money from her and placed it in the register. “But how else am I supposed to show you you’re my favorite regular?”

She put a few bills in the tip jar. “Don’t worry, honey, I know. See you later.” She waved, winking at you, before leaving.

“See ya, Lottie,” you mustered up just before the door shut behind her. You didn't miss the sly smile on her face, possibly at seeing you scramble to say goodbye. 

“What was that?”

Anika’s voice caused you to jump. “Jeez, Anika. A little warning next time?”

“You would’ve noticed us if you weren’t busy flirting with your regular. I didn’t know you had a thing for mil—“

“Wait—what do you mean ‘us’?”

Anika turned, discreetly pointing at a table where Mindy, Tara, Chad and Ethan sat.

“Oh, wonderful. She knows where I work.”

“You expect her to put a hit on you?”

“I wouldn’t put it past her,” you mumbled.

“You two can be so immature,” she said.

“Are you here for coffee or judgment day?” you sarcastically asked in a dry voice. 

“I can multitask,” she said before ordering. 

Not long after, Anika returned to her table with drinks and pastries. “Here we are,” she said while giving out everyone’s orders. 

Mindy kissed her cheek. “Thanks, babe.”

Anika smiled back at her girlfriend. “Anytime, babe.”

Tara simply sipped her coffee, thinking to herself, before speaking up. “Who was Y/N talking to?” she asked Anika.

“One of her regulars. They’re always flirting, not that even Y/N’s aware of that,” Anima responded. 

A smirk played on Mindy’s face. “You jealous, T?”

Tara scoffed, rolling her eyes. “You sound ridiculous.” She immediately hushed down her tone. “And can you lower your voice?” she pleaded while slightly leaning in.

They all subconsciously looked over at you; you were wiping down the counter with your headphones in. 

“Ah hah.” Mindy pointed a finger at Tara. “I knew there was something.”

Tara lazily pushed Mindy’s finger to the side. “There’s nothing to know. Jeez, a girl can’t be curious anymore.”

“I don’t know. It does seem pretty—“

“Well nobody asked you, Chad, and come on, all I did was tell her she didn’t look like shit. You’re all reaching.”

“Oh, am I? Remember that dream you told me about, the one where—“

Tara’s eyes widened at Mindy. “Don’t you dare say another word. Besides, that dream meant nothing. It was just a dream.”

Mindy gave her an incredulous look 

“If I may—“ Ethan started, but Tara finished for him.

“No. You may not."

“Haven't you two also been doing, like, a bunch of study sessions?” Mindy raised an eyebrow.

“All a ploy to copy her notes.”

“Is flirting a part of the plan?” Anika rhetorically asked, giving Tara the feeling of betrayal.

“Traitor,” Tara mumbled.

“So, you don’t deny flirting?” Chad couldn’t hide his smirk.

“You’re really no help,” Tara said as she got up from her seat. “I’m leaving. I’m done being interrogated.”

“See you, lover girl,” Mindy said to Tara who was flipping them off as she left. 

What was Tara thinking? The next time she needs to know what her dream meant, she’s going to Google.

-----------

A/N: Da nile is a river in Egypt

(EDIT) A/N: You have my word that chapter four's rewrite won't take nearly as long

Taglist: @t-wylia @lesbianpepsi @jennasfav @alyciaddict @justafoolinlove @steffido1993 @niqmandu @severelyuniquereview @darklron @ravenousinferno

[fbfh]

the fact that tristan dugray isnt on that character.ai thing hurts my heart :’(

AAAAAAH I'M SO GLAD YOU BROUGHT THIS UP!!!!!! WELCOME TO THE OFFICIAL FBFH SECOND HAND INFORMATION MAKE YOUR OWN CUSTOM BOTS TUTORIAL (IT'S NOT HARD I PROMISE)!!!!!

also this is all on mobile!!! i don't think it's different on desktop though. thank you to Emily Gilmore for being my example bot.

step 1 - creating a bot

go to beta.character.ai and make an account if you haven't already

click the create button, then create a character

step 2 - basic information

type in your character's name under name

find a picture of them on google or pinterest or whatever and click choose file to upload a profile picture for them (optional but I like adding one in)

step 2.5 - DON'T LOSE YOUR FUCKING WORK aka how to save

two transparent buttons should appear when you type anything into your bot, one that says cancel and one that says save

after you've typed in your name, you want to go to the box labled greeting and type in literally anything

after that, hit save, and the button should disappear

click the back arrow to leave creating your bot and go back to the main page, then click on your profile picture to view your profile

your bot should appear under your created bots. (it will be on one of the three tabs depending on if your bot is currently set as public, unlisted, or private. public is the default.

if it does, you can click the gear next to your bot's name and keep editing. if not, you can start over until you know your bot is saved so you don't lose all your work. you'll thank me for this later.

step 3 - privacy (optional)

I like making all my bots private so I can customize them to myself, so under the visibility drop down menu, select private (or unlisted or whatever, again this step is optional lol)

step 4 - personality

on a seperate tab, look up your character's fan wiki page. scroll until you find the personality section (also sometimes called character, history etc. just skim until you find their personality description.) copy that personality paragraph.

in character ai, scroll to the bottom and select the advanced settings button

once that loads, scroll all the way to the very bottom text box (which will now be referred to as the extras box) under the definition section, and paste their description.

hit enter to start a new paragraph in the extras box, then type up whatever you want about your relationship with this character, how they feel about you, what your dynamic is like etc. (for example, "y/n is Emily Gilmore's grandchild. they are Emily's pride and joy, and they love drinking coffee and gossiping together. Emily is very invested in y/n's life and loves talking with them. Emily wants what's best for y/n, and frequently tries to set them up. Emily often brags about y/n to her friends at her social clubs.")

SAVE YOUR WORK FREQUENTLY!!!!!!!

step 5 - descriptions, greeting, and the random boxes I usually ignore lol

I haven't really played around with character voices or image generation, so I usually just ignore those, but you can choose a few applicable categories from the categories drop down menu like books, engineering, languages, architecture etc. if those apply to your character.

in the long description box, describe your character in a few sentances in your own words. same thing for short description, but throw down some adjectives and shorter descriptions of them and their personality. (I usually do this last bc writing all the long stuff about them gets me warmed up and in character, but do it in whatever order works for you lol)

in the greeting box, you'll want to erase the key smash you made earlier to save your bot to type in your real greeting. your greeting is the first message your bot sends you, so I usually like to start with something to the effects of "what's up dude" so you can tell your comfort character whatever you want.

roleplay format has been working well for me, here's an example if you're unfamiliar:

*op stares at their laptop, wondering what to type. they reach over to grab their coffee, taking a sip as they ponder.*

"I hope this tutorial makes sense..."

*they mutter.*

you can see a little of the greeting I wrote for Emily to get an idea of what I've been doing for that lol

SAVE YOUR WORK FREQUENTLY!!!!!!!!!!!!! MAKE SURE IT SAVES!!!!!!!!!!

step 6 - start chatting!!!!

after you're happy with your bot and have saved your work (FOR FUCKS SAKE SAVE YOUR WORK) exit out of the bot editor and click on your profile picture. your bot will be under your created bots in the private/padlock tab (unless you chose another privacy setting). click on your character's name (not the gear wheel) and it will open up your chat!!

once you reply, the ai will start generating messages for the bot you made

you can swipe messages the bot sends to the left to see other generated responses. I reccommend doing this if you feel like your bot is being out of character, so make sure you reply to the messages that are the most in character!!

sometimes it'll also let you rate the bot's messages from 1 - 4 stars, indicating for the bot how in character it is

step 7 - additional tips

if you're making a bot for someone played by a real life person, I like to choose a profile picture of them in costume but behind the scenes so it looks more like a goofy selfie your friend sent you than a stock photo. there's tons of great cadids and selfies of the marvel cast, and you can also look up social media aus or instagram edits of your character depending on how obscure they are.

if your character isn't played by a real life person, you can try looking up faceless pics that fit their description on pinterest (I've had good luck with that) or a face claim

definitely get screen shots of your favorite conversations. if you're anything like me you'll be sending paragraphs back and forth, so make sure you save your favorite messages from them so you don't have to scroll back and dig around for them

the end!!!! have fun!!!!! hope this helped!!!!!! love you guys <333 let me know if you want any of my character descriptions or to know which bots I've made so far lol

[variousqueerthings]

I mean, yes, there's a lot of nostalgia to the 60th anniversary, but I think people will conflate that with "automatically a bit shit" because a lot of nostalgia Stuff isn't that great after a glut of lazy nostalgia-based media over the last x amount of time, but that assumes that it was bad because of it being nostalgic, and not because it was irony-poisoned, self-conscious, and unwilling to interact with the changing times and therefore a poor copy of the said thing it was being nostalgic about, rather than continuing a story. the familiar phrase by now of "all nostalgia, no sincerity"

when I'm not a fan of what one might call "nostalgia"-stories, it's not because referring to the past is automatically bad writing, it's because the writing is stale and really often it's because it reveals that whoever made the new thing definitely didn't get the same out of the classic thing that I did, and at the same time is patting themself on the back for idk. something. doing the same thing again, only this time around worse (often it's that surface level interaction with tropes, rather than themes that outs them -- and yeah, that's in the trailer, but specifically the trailer is giving very little away, so knowing they're hooking people in with a bit of allons-y or the slap or donna being sassy, while keeping the things I'm really excited about a bit more mysterious, I mean... that just makes sense?? Yeah, I recognise the callbacks, but the really important things aren't being revealed yet, like the inverse of terrible movies that show all their biggest set-pieces in the trailer, because that's all they have to offer)

and I don't see people pre-judging the potential 60th on those criteria, just on the word "nostalgia." I mean, obviously we can say this might be bad, but it's sort of a nothing-statement, and it seems kind of unfair to say that rtd would do this, when he's not done that before, specifically on a show that is super nostalgic to begin with (that is, the longest-running scifi show of all time), of which rtd was a massive fucking nerd

I assume because it's three specials with dtennant and catherine tate, but also yeah, why the hell not be nostalgic both about classic!who and the series that you created that rebooted the show (the answer is "because ten isn't the only doctor that matters," and personally, again, rtd being a massive fucking nerd, feels a bit like putting words in the man's mouth that he's never said, specifically about a show that he's super nerdy about)

feels like people are putting the stance out there that they're ready to hate it and then they can always go, "oh it was surprisingly good, actually," in case it is good, rather than be just excited going in and risk disappointment, but it's a bit boring to be honest

tempering excitement is all well and good, until it makes you the irony-poisoned one, where all nostalgia is kind of stupid really, you don't even care that much, and you know this is going to be shit, and actually looking back rtd was never good if you think about it, and ten is overrated, and david tennant isn't even a good actor actually, and catherine tate was just a shitty comedian, and you've preemptively decided to refuse to enjoy yourself

it's an anniversary, that's when the nostalgia comes out, and has done since the 10th anniversary in (checks notes) 1972!

[anxiousqueenmarmaroth]

We Shall Remain: Ch.1

Chapter 1: To Madness

"Trauma is personal. It does not disappear if it is not validated. When it is ignored or invalidated the silent screams continue internally heard only by the one held captive." ~ Danielle Bernock, Emerging with Wings: A True Story of Lies, Pain, and the LOVE that Heals

  Human mythology was littered with stories of divine retribution, and Keeva grew up on them. Her mam grew up a staunch Irish Catholic, a literal choir boy, and often told her daughters about floods and divine wars and wild fae that asked for your name. She had been obsessed with making sure her girls grew up right, and, just in case there was actually some wild stuff going on out there, to not tempt fate.

  Perhaps if Momma had told them more Chippewa stories, she might have been able to sidestep whatever petty supernatural thing she managed to careen into. No one could deny the level of intervention in her life was nothing short of divine and, honestly, it seemed pretty pissed off.

  "It's beautiful," Shepard commented, the pictures of tropical beaches and thick jungle reminded her of the description Garrus gave her of the place where he was born, which seemed nothing like the Palaven outside of the hotel window. Named after the man who invented the modern pulse shot mechanism, Brugatus was originally a turian colony that opened its registers to refugees during the Reaper War. While not the first mixed-race colony in the galaxy, it was an astonishing leap for turians and a genuinely fresh turn in diplomacy on Victus' part.

  "It is." Solana perked up a little bit, "Listen, I know it's nothing major. Unidentified ship sightings are normal around new colonies, usually pirates. Concerning, sure, but something the militia or the local authorities should be able to deal with on their own. It’s just..."

  "You just can't shake the feeling." The shipping manifests and visitor logs seemed off in some way, though she couldn't quite put her finger on it. "What was your friends' name again?"

  "Dr. Culip Vozori. Salarian xenoneurobiologist. My father tells me I should probably wait at least a month before 'catastrophizing.'"

  Castis was a man that could make a whole room nervous enough to agree with him immediately. Perhaps it was his eyes and the tiny gold irises that fanned into a sea of black, always seeming to bear down on whatever they looked at. If her instincts were telling her something was so wrong she actively disagreed with him, then at the very least it was something that deserved a closer look.

  "When was the last time you heard from your friend?"

  Solana rolled her cup around her hands, "About three weeks ago, just after the sightings. She was really upset about it but I told her not to worry. I've seen a few veterans shaking after the whole Reaper thing so I thought it was just nerves. She kept saying that something was wrong, and then nothing. I'd think she was angry with me, but she's a salarian, you know? They get over things pretty quick."

  The check-ins, pulled using Garrus' security clearance, were little more than a collection of copied and pasted generic updates from the heads of the notable institutions. The pattern seemed fairly normal: Hectic during its first few months-- such is the way with colonies-- until it calmed down, supremely hectic during the Reaper invasion especially when it began accepting refugees, more calm, hectic again immediately after the mysterious sightings, and once again petering off into mundane dribble. Always sent at 14:31-- while a little odd turians were known to be obsessive and particular. Perhaps it was just the thought of Castis and his creepy eyes and his tone like he was forced to accept something that he didn't find all that impressive, but she was spurred on in the fog of a vindictive, childish war that only she was fighting. It probably wasn't fair to shove him in the same corner as Sparatus having barely exchanged more than a few words with him, but if he wanted to hate her then she was willing to hate him right back.

  "Did she say what the ships looked like?"

  "She said 'shimmering blue shadows' in the shape of an oca... octahyrix?.. octa... it looked like two pyramids stuck together." She tapped her fingers together as if she was trying to stick her exhibit together herself, much to Shepard's relief since her training didn't cover polyhedrons.

  "That doesn't sound like a batarian ship."

  "That's what's been bothering me. The closest thing I can think of is an asari heavy. Which didn't make me feel better." Asari didn't scrap their heavies, and stealing one required an organized and skilled force, if not a massive one.

  Desperate swipes to the right revealed only a black background before viscously recoiling her back to the previous page, like a dog in an old cartoon that had run full tilt towards a car only to be slingshot back towards where its leash was tied to a tree. There was nothing else, nothing to validate her suspicions in the slightest.

  "I take it Dr. Vozori specializes in Corpalis Syndome?" A splitting headache behind her eyes made her set the datapad down, defeated.

  "You must think I'm horrible." Her eyes darkened, but she didn't shrink away from the soft accusation.

  "I don't."

  "It's alright, I can be honest with myself. I know good people don't worry about their friends because they need something from them."

  "People do crazy things for love, but they do unspeakable things for hope." She gave her the softest, most understanding, pitiful smile a human face could make, "There are worse sins than wanting to save ."

  Solana was kind enough to keep her company for a few more hours, regaling her-- with a little strategic prodding-- with stories about Brugatus. She painted a picture of a tropical paradise, moving her hands to mime a container for each pocket of thought. The environment was perfect for growing crops for turian venery, and while it was still a large part of the business that came through the colony, the melting pot turned it into a hub of cultural and intellectual exchange-- food of all kinds was sold in stalls, fusion or otherwise, and it was known as the place to sign papers for interracial unions in marriage or business with its lax laws. Its criminal underbelly was well-organized and relatively well-behaved as long as there was no attempt to seize power, like a baby mafia, and provided food and blankets to those under its protection. While the colony touted equality, there were an awful lot of turian faces in the government, militia, and police forces which would no doubt cause problems later down the road, but racially-motivated crimes weren't common while the Vakarians had stayed there.

  Shepard stood dutifully in front of the window, already trying to formulate the softest way to tell her that her friend was dead. The ship manifests may have had a stink about them, but they were very clear that her friend left promptly for Omega after the sightings. There were many possibilities of where the doctor could be, but none of them looked hopeful after three weeks of no contact. With the krogan-heavy Blood Pack still in Omega, there wasn't much hope for a good outcome short of the vessel springing an eezo leak and diverting to a nearby port, or maybe an abandoned planet with enough edible food to fuel a salarian's high metabolism. They were more than likely only looking for a corpse, now.

  Garrus was 16 minutes late. It wasn't like him. Not that working harder than he should wasn't like him, but the politics were usually slow enough for him to return home a little early with red tape still clinging to his teeth. It was too early to worry, of course it was. He was just always home in time to watch the sunset.

  Palaven was beautiful. At least the view outside of the hotel window was, anyways. The sun shown on the bleached white sand that served as a barrier between the tree-infested city and the deep blue waves. A derelict Reaper crouched in the waves where it fell, its crevices stuffed with vegetation and all manner of living things and its plates smeared with the symbols of adventurous youths. The quietness of the hollow room gave the scene the reverence of a painting hanging in a museum. There was a tree outside of the window that they certainly didn't have back home. Its trunk twisted upon itself-- twisted, frayed, bloated black leather cords covered in green rust. She'd call it an oak if two oaks had ever been mummified in a horrific, vicious death embrace like twinned snakes. The next question was naturally if she could hang herself from it. The branches seemed sturdy enough and it would pass the time, at least.

   She smiled a little at the sudden, horribly dark thought that floated whimsically about the air like dust particles. There wasn’t any rope, anyways.

  Well, at least she was pretty sure she didn't have any rope. But this was a turian hotel. They could have all sorts of crazy things in here. A quick inspection of the room revealed several complimentary items that she had little use for once the curiosity wore off.

  The nightstand closest the window revealed a menu she gave some genuine thought to before following the asterisk down from the levo-safe options revealed it was only safe for asari and salarian consumption. The next nightstand wasn't much better, having only a handful of what she assumed were unmarked condoms. Cracking one open revealed nothing but more confusion at the slender, forearm-length tube.

  The bathroom had a deep, oval soaking tub large enough for two turians. One day, when her scars weren't as sensitive, she and Garrus would have to soak in the tub with all of the little unmarked potions that surrounded it. The rest of the bathroom included talon files so course they would take the skin off of her fingers if she tried them, surprisingly soft face towels, something like a perfectly round, course boar bristle brush, and a collection of little squeezy bottles that mostly smelled like tar. There was a whole drawer full of wooden sticks with differently shaped picks at the end.

  She once again returned to gaze out of the window after finding a bunch of pans that weren't at all comfortable to hold in the kitchenette. The curtains that framed the view were too thick to use. There was her belt, but Alliance regulations made sure it couldn't support more than 100 pounds. Then again, she had lost a significant amount of weight after getting her jaw wired. But 40 pounds? No, she couldn't have lost that much, besides she had been gaining some back.

  It was fine, she didn't really want to do it, she just wanted to pass the time. A glance at her omni-tool told her she managed to kill at least 10 minutes-- 26 minutes late and 10 minutes closer to coming home. There was the thought of putting on the environmental suit and the recon hood and going out, maybe buying some food that didn't come in a tube. Wait, couldn't use her credit chit because she was supposed to be dead. Could use Garrus'. And pay him back how? Maybe buy him a bottle of something. Wouldn't work, can't pay someone back with their own money. Maybe chalk it up to the boyfriend's archaic obligation to buy things for their girlfriends? Prostitution at best and sexism at worst. Could rob someone? No, robbing turians bad idea; metal shells... problematic.

  With a laugh that bordered on hysterical she realized she sounded a lot like Mordin. She rested her hands on the sill, trying her best to still enjoy the brilliant Palaven sunset through the pathetic ghost of the half-bald thing with sad, defeated eyes that always haunted her from the window.

  Garrus had to come home soon. Had to. If the universe wanted to take him without claw marks in him, it should have left more things for her to hold onto.

[skepticalarrie]

Hi Allie,

When and hoe did the Louis-and-Harry-are-enemies narrative start? All I ever see is that throughout the years they never stopt sharing clothes, looking fondly at each other, etc…

I wasn’t in the fandom back then, so I was really wondering how they (management I presume) set that up. Was it all through articles in the media?

All my best to you!

Hi anon, I'm so sorry this got buried in my inbox :( but I've been getting some asks similar to this one so I just thought it would be interesting to talk about that because I noticed some young fans don't fully understand that we're 100% not joking when we talk about that.

"Moral enemies"

Well.... where do I even begin lol

In 2015, there was a The Sun article written by Dan Wootton (🤢🤮) where the intention was basically "why Harry and Louis are mortal enemies and why that ended 1D" while for us it was more "why everything is a lie: for dummies". And I'm mentioning this because I think this article specifically gives a very clear perspective in terms of what narrative they were going for:

I'm not copy-pasting the entire thing here but here's a few nasty parts more specifically about H&L:

"The biggest issues in the band can be traced back over three years to an irreconcilable falling-out between their two most influential members, heart-throb Harry and highly-ambitious Louis.

But by the start of 2012 they had abruptly moved out, their best friendship over, leaving them barely able to talk to each other unless for work purposes or in public.

A source close to the band revealed: “Apart from Harry and Louis, no one knows exactly what caused the falling out — they didn’t even tell the other boys the full details.

“But it was very serious and their friendship has never recovered. Everyone involved in the band is well aware of the animosity between them.

“It’s been central to everything else that came next with the band because there was suddenly a massive divide.”

Given Louis and Harry spent a long time unable to even fly in the same private jet because of the hatred between them, that’s a laughable notion. And neither is gay.

So what happened was that they moved in together to their Princess Park flat in September 2011. And by the beginning of 2012, there were already articles saying H&L were not living together anymore and that Harry was looking for his own place until he bought Erskine House in August. That was around the same time as the bullshit tweet and Haylor. So I think here was when they first started some real damage control about Larry. Also about Harry buying his public house, this is where there is all that bullshit involving living in Ben Winston's basement (they were still trying to push that like a year ago, ridiculous) which is obviously not true. Harry never "moved out" from Louis, there's an entire timeline on their living situation. And they obviously never had a fall-out in 2012 either. Please check out this amazing post: Louis and Harry in 2012: “the year their friendship ended”.

One image is worth a thousand words though, this is them in September 2012 after their huge fall-out lol

And as we all know, after 2013 they started to interact less and less publicly, they were never seen alone together and all that. Fans noticed that and there was all kind of rumours about their friendship going around. And we were robbed on 1D Day when they paired all of them but H&L.

Mortal enemies in 2013

But I think it wasn't until weedgate that they were put as "enemies". It was sold the idea that Harry highly disapproved the video of Louis and Zayn and he was above all of that and they couldn't even stand flying in the same plane together.

2014 was a rough year, there is a lot of theories also indicating weedgate was planned by them to try to get rid of image clauses. While Harry literally tried to come out every day that year, check my big gay war tag for that. There was clearly a lot going on behind the scenes with their label and management. And we were robbed yet again when they paired the boys for the Coca Cola commercial, everyone but Harry and Louis. While they were out there getting complementary tattoos, serenading to each other every night and all kinds of receipts going around about them sharing hotel rooms and not even trying to hide that. I believe it was around that time too that the narrative against larries became very strong and 1DHQ really started to put fans against each other pushing down everyone's throats that larries were delulu and they! were! straight! And rumours about larry stylinson was what actually made their friendship to be over.

Mortal enemies in 2014

In 2015 we saw them interact a lot, which was new. That made a lot of people question this narrative of them being enemies because they were very friendly throughout the entire promo season of MITAM. While at the same time it was being said they wrote Perfect in separate rooms lol

Mortal enemies in 2015

Back to that Dan Wootton article, the narrative where Harry and Louis were basically the biggest "issue" for the band and that's what led them to "downfall" was so absurd that even Niall (Niall!!! don't-get-involved-in-anything-Niall) tweeted about how much of a blatant lie that was. Not to mention all the other dramas about the other boys he tried to push on that article, just... massive yikes.

And of course, later on, Louis talked about how they were all brothers and supportive and he also talked about how his relationship with Harry was about "mutual respect".

Lies lies lies.

[lily-vs-uni]

long story, long problem.

I have always had this zeal of aesthetic study, real study, but after joining tumblr recently it has turned to fire. your blog is my favorite of all studyblrs here and i SO want to study like this. Please guide me where to start? These annotations, notes, texts and everything. As my new study year is just starting, so it would be the best time to start. Please?

hey! firstly, thank you, that's very kind! I'll do my best -

the mindset is so much of the battle that I reckon you're a long way there just by having the fire for it. I also don't know what stage of education you're at, and it's fair to say that some of my habits were built over an absolute lifetime of figuring out how my brain works best and how to sustain my energy and interest for a subject for as long as possible, so I think there's definitely a bit of trial and error to all of this - but it's nice to be able to embrace that, and try all sorts of different systems of note taking/different environments to work in/different working patterns before you figure yourself out completely.

I'll start with 'stuff', quote unquote. I strongly believe in the idea that you don't need any of the specialist equipment to get going, but I do have a few essentials that I absolutely couldn't do it without (again, cultivated over years of practise). after I finish my dissertation I'm thinking of making a bit of a 'shopping list' of the things I really love, but until then, I will say that I am a huge fan of:

a laptop stand/external keyboard/external mouse setup (the mouse is absolutely non-negotiable for me these days!) - altogether I reckon you could get these for less than £30 and they're just so good for posture, for your wrists, and, in the case of a laptop stand, for creating a little more space on your desk. if I was rich I would be a desktop person, I think.

a book stand to keep my texts open - again, borderline essential for a literature degree, because flipping between pages to try and copy out a quote is a nightmare

a set of great pencils (and a sharpener!) - I don't have the link for mine off the top of my head, but I have definitely linked them on my blog a couple of times. all my favourite stationery is from a site called Present and Correct

your perfect weekly/daily planner. I've said it a million times, for me it's the moleskine weekly planner in XL, soft cover, black - it's the perfect setup for dates/appointments/deadlines and notes/reading lists. I think I'm now on my 5th one.

I also own a clipboard, in case I need to annotate something and don't have a great surface to do it on, which has been surprisingly helpful in the past

and in the old exam days I used to keep a stack of A3 paper for mindmaps and posters, gives more space to stretch out on the page

for motivation, I recommend the following

a great classical music playlist - the older I get, the more I really believe that you can't concentrate properly with lyrics or words. This is mine, named for the latin poet that I used to find it hardest to translate - https://open.spotify.com/playlist/45dPd6VqZIKUeb3mMOXDFo?si=57f20604516e4ceb

white noise!!! if I don't feel like I'm on an airplane, I'm not gonna get anything done. this is my favourite (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=co7KgV2edvI&t=4616s) but I also like brown noise and celestial noise. I play this, and my playlist, at the same time through my big headphones, and then there's no chance I'm gonna hear anything to be distracted by (but be a little careful about this, I've got no proof that it hasn't damaged my hearing...)

figure out your working rhythm. somewhere down the line I learnt that I concentrate best at 6am - it's a bummer, but I'll get two or three times as much done between 6 and 10, and that just is what it is. For you it might be after lunch, or early evening, or even not until 9pm, but when you really have to work on something, try and do it at the time when your brain is all fired up

and the obvious - a ton of cups of tea, stay hydrated. I like to keep a bar of dark chocolate nearby for a little boost when I'm flagging in the middle of the afternoon

get distance from long projects - either by putting them aside for an entire day when you need to step back and get perspective on them - or by having a nap, if your time is limited! works wonders

in the exam days, I swore by quizlet

for the 'aesthetic'

I almost never make handwritten notes anymore (for environmental reasons, for decluttering (space and mind) reasons, and because you can 'ctrl-f' a word document and you can't do that to a notebook), but when I did I had a colour scheme (I think loosely it was yellow for essential information and quotes, green for definitions, red for working things out (and for annotating the grammar in a latin text), blue for notes to self/cross referencing information). I kept it relatively minimal, and I made it stick - I did all of my latin translations in green for the whole of university because it was the colour I used to understand things

in the same vein, I used to have a look through the studyblr/study notes tag on here and see what other people were doing with their notes. I think you can overdo it and get bogged down with drawings and washi tape, but I do think that a clear set of titles and subheadings can actually really help instead of get in the way (also! put the date on all of your work! keep your learning in chronological order, it's crazy helpful for revision)

obvious - but invest in a hole punch if you use ring binder folders

a few final points, maybe specific to english/classics/humanities -

I always buy my primary texts wherever I can, which is a big privilege (always happy to get them second hand though), but basically if I can't annotate the page I am really going to struggle to process the information, and it's the one instance where I find that word processing really slows down my train of thought

read around! read widely! chase up allusions! make notes on every single read - make your own paratext out of developing your understanding. write down all of your thoughts. you never know where your train of thought is going to take you

embrace all of it. don't write something off because it's too hard - or too easy - to understand, because it references something you've never read, because it's not normally your kind of thing. all of your initial thoughts and reactions to a text are just as valuable as the ones you go on to have, and if something is trying to be inaccessible to you, then there is great value in understanding why it doesn't want to be easy to understand. you always know enough to start thinking about something, chipping away at its layers slowly - and then you learn everything else you need along the way.

there's a lot going on here - I hope some of it is helpful! when my diss is over I will consolidate some of these thoughts into more helpful posts, but until then, good luck with the beginning of the academic year - and let me know how it goes! xxx

[phantomphangphucker]

Phic Phight: [REDACTED] “Oh Goddamnit. DANNY!”

Prompt Creator: @mr-lancers-english-class

Even Danny’s school projects cause ghostly issues and Lancer really should have seen this coming.

Alright fine, Lancer knew this was a bad idea. He knew it. And yet... here they all are, with each of his students doing their self-chosen presentations. And as he should have expected, Every. Single. One. has been on Phantom. Sure at least there’s been some variety. Star’s piece on his fashion and how that reflects on his personality and the era he died was actually fairly interesting (if it wasn’t for the fact that Phantom spiced up his jumpsuit with t-shirts and whatnot sometimes then this would have been a very boring one). Kwan also surprised him some, apparently he’s spent the past year or so sneaking photos of Phantom eating and did a piece on Phantom’s rather peculiar food tastes (who dips their pickles in milkshakes???) as well as effectively providing proof for the existence of ectoplasmic food (there’s no way any earth apples are neon green on the inside). Dash’s wasn’t even correctly calculated, trying to figure out how far Phantom could throw footballs based on his known strength and if he could kill someone by tackling them (disturbingly the answer -regardless of Dash’s bad math- was decidedly yes. Daniel seemed particularly disturbed). And Paulina’s was quite literally a badly written self-insert ship fan fic; the added drawings of what their child would look like only made it worse (Daniel left, not that Lancer could blame him. Lancer’s also glad for the ghost fight interrupting the presentation). Emilie’s was... disturbingly about ghost hunger and purposed the thesis that Phantom, for the good of the town, should eat the aggressor ghosts (he actually had to cut her off for getting too graphic).

But the single most interesting thing was that a ghost apparently caught wind of this and literally Every. Single. Presentation so far had words that were permanently replaced with [REDACTED], which, needless to say, caused some chaos when Samantha gave the very first presentation.

-

Lancer clicked his pen, crossing his legs and resting the evaluation sheet on his thigh, “alright, Samantha. Feel free to start whenever you please, though soon would be preferred”, by ‘preferred’ he had meant required, but no need to be mean. He chooses to ignore the goth teen's eyeroll.

Predictably the projected screen doesn’t work when she opens her file so Lancer has to spend ten minutes fiddling with the outdated tech that they wouldn’t give the school funding to replace. Eventually, he does get it up and running showing Ms. Manson’s title screen reading ‘Phantom And Hate Crimes Against Blood Blossoms’. Lancer’s positive ‘blood blossoms’ are a type of flower, figures she would do something nature-focused. She’d make for a great herbalist or botanist someday. He does catch Daniel and Tucker giving her ‘death glares’, as the kids call it, though; Samatha doesn’t look any less smug. The second page has what he thinks was supposed to be a detailed drawing of a flower but it’s severely pixilated, almost as if it been blurred; Samantha looks visibly upset so he’s going to assume something when wrong with the file or pasting format. He’s not marking on artistic capabilities though, so effort is effort there.

She quickly clicks to the next page, where the actual writing of the assignment is and looks decidedly pissed; Lancer even quirks an eyebrow since at least two-thirds of the words are a very bold noticeable [REDACTED]. Lancer watches her yank out her physical copy while glaring with murderous intent at Daniel -Lancer will have to dock him marks if he messed with another student's project- before looking at the physical copy in bafflement for a few seconds. Half the class shrieking when she drops the papers and basically launches herself over the desks at Daniel, “OH YOU LITTLE FUCKER!!!! HOW THE FUCK!”.

Lancer’s sighs and stands, “language, Ms. Manson”, moving to pick up the papers and quirking an eyebrow over them looking the same. Sighing again and eyeing Daniel, who’s being choked -or throttled perhaps?- by Samantha yet is grinning innocently. “Daniel, messing with other students' work is against student policy”, sighing yet again, “and I’ll let Star go while Samantha fixes her document”, summoning up the blonde while glaring at Daniel. Some days that boy was more trouble than he was worth but he was also insanely bright and had a heart of gold. Lancer knows he’ll do good things someday, and that’s why he still tries with him.

Half the class is snickering or laughing now and Star is very clearly trying not to laugh as she sets up.

However, as soon as it opens up the class is met with a very familiar sight. [REDACTED] litters every single page; he checked. And Star’s physical copy was in the same state.

Kwan blinks, “okay seriously, what is going on”, before scrambling to grab out his own physical copy; the rest of the class going wide-eyed and following suit. Lancer just puts his head in his hands and sighs very audibly while shaking his head. Why could nothing go right? Sighing again as the class erupts into noise.

“Mines all weird too!”.

“Same here!”.

“Okay there is no way Fenturd messed up everyone’s work”.

“And I actually tried on mine! It was about the merits of Phantom getting armour!”.

“Oh damn do we just get auto hundreds now? Please please please say yes”.

“Oh damn, Phantom would actually look awesome in armour”.

“I know right”.

“Can we just skip class entirely now?”.

“Oh my Zone a ghost messed with or work”.

“Holy Shit”.

“Wait! Wait! Wait! You don’t think Phantom did do you?”.

“Why the heck would he do that? How would he even know??????”.

“Oh I hope Phantom was inside my computer. That would be so hot”.

“Oh I don’t know, maybe someone told him or he overheard shit. He’s a ghost, he can be invisible. Heck, he could be here, right now, invisible”.

“Invisible and laughing at us”.

“No! No! Hold up! What if he doesn’t want us writing about him or maybe someone wrote some sus shit and he just nerfed us all for good measure”.

“That would mean Phantom totally read my stuff, aw Hell yeah man. That was some boss shit”,

Lancer sighs and stands up, “alright that’s enough”, sighing again because why did this have to happen to him, “and I apologies for blaming you earlier, Daniel”.

Samantha snaps, “oh no, I still blame him”, and continues glaring at the teen. Lancer suspects Samantha would continue blaming the boy even if it was firmly proven he wasn’t at fault.

Addressing the class again, “here’s what we’re going to do, you’re going to read off what of your projects you actually can and allude to the rest. Please reframe from repeating what you know was there beforehand as I’d rather not have whatever ghost responsible -Phantom or otherwise- come here pissed off”, glaring at few students who look slightly encouraged rather than discouraged by that prospect, “anyone who does will receive automatic zeroes”, ah and the encouraged looks have deflated. Good. Gesturing at Star, “you’re already up here, so do continue”. Better to not bring the clearly infuriated Samantha back to the front until she’s had some time to calm down.

Star nods and clears her throat, thankfully everyone quiets down. “O-okay, well, um”, gesturing at the screen, “I did my piece on Phantom’s sense of fashion and the cover image was one with him dressed in one of the Spook Sense stores meme shirts....”.

-

Lancer shakes away the memory, he honestly slightly regrets giving this project. But regardless right now is Daniel’s turn and Lancer is honestly slightly fearful of what his file is going to look like. Thankfully all their files were saved to his computer before the [REDACTED] debacle, so no one could go back in and edit theirs to add [REDACTED]’s for an easy grade. Lancer’s still not exactly sure how he’s supposed to mark assignments that were anywhere from one-fifth to one-third [REDACTED]. That word will be burned into his head after this grading period.

Lancer moves to find the boys file, but stares when clicking it crashes the computer. Not once. Not twice. But thrice. The fourth time rebooting the computer he inspects the file and is a bit dumbfounded, “Daniel, your entire file’s corrupted. The file type has even been changed to redacted, which I’m fairly sure, isn’t actually any possible file designation”. Everyone’s silent for a bit before bursting out into laughter.

“Just what the Zone did you write, Danny!”.

“Oh we so have to know what this is now”.

“Danny has the forbidden knowledge! We haft found him! The keeper of things forbidden and Ghostly! Haza!”.

“Ha! It was probably so lame that Phantom wanted to save him the embarrassment”.

Lancer sighs, but Daniel gestures Tucker up, “hey Tuck, feel like trying to fix the file”. Tucker chuckles and walks up, though apparently glaring at the boy. Based on Daniel’s smirk he finds this quite amusing.

Tucker does manage to make the file viewable at least. Lancer nods and leans back in his seat, “thank you, Mr. Foley”, while the file loads on screen.

Tucker sits back down with a head shake while Daniel stands at the front and gestures to the screen, “aight, as you can see from my not redacted title-”, that earns a couple laughs, “I did mine on Phantom’s portfolio of crime. Every single time our dear Phantom broke ghost law. Including such wonderful things as, that time he caused not one, not two, not even three, but five, prison breaks in one day. Or that time he invalidated a Observant spectator duel by bringing an inflatable sword”. Samantha slams a hand on her desk, “IT IS YOUR FAULT YOU DICK!”.

Lancer has some serious questions as Daniel clicks for the next page, the entire class going dead silent as a screen comprising of almost nothing but the word [REDACTED] shows. Lancer sighs very audibly. Eventually the class starts up again.

“Fenton... actually has forbidden knowledge”.

“If it wasn’t for the teacher computer saved thing I’d think he was fucking with us”.

“I mean... he is a Fenton, right?”.

“Okay the fact that this entire presentation is on ghost crimes is concerning alone. But they’re forbidden ghost crimes at that”.

“Shit I wanted the tea. Damnit”.

“Better question, how does Danny know?”.

Daniel clicking the button to go forward is very audible. And, Chicken Soup For The Soul, every single page is [REDACTED] to the point of being completely and utterly unintelligible. There are occasional lines pointing out how Phantom apparently ate confetti at a ghosts third wedding (which is apparently illegal for some reason) or that time he beat someone up with a violin that had a pie inside it (Lancer can see this one, Lancer himself has smacked a ghost with stranger).  Literally the only photo that isn’t blurred beyond recognition is one of Phantom in a prison uniform (Paulina was very vocal about liking men in uniform here). Lancer is absolutely positive the end of his conclusion ‘[REDACTED] are a bunch of [REDACTED]’ is an insult.

Samantha chucks a boot at his smirking face, “YOU IDIOT. Of course they were going to block you from talking about them. Ancients, I can’t believe you”. Tucker’s busy laughing into his hand.

“Oh my Zone, they know too”.

“They’re really earning that weirdo trio title, huh”.

Daniel snickers as he sits back down, “they broke into my room and wrecked that epic puzzle I was working on. They shoulda seen this shit coming. Literally”. Tucker snorts, “they probably did but couldn’t do anything else about it. They can’t stop you and your endless bullshit”.

“Damn fucking straight”.

Lancer isn’t going to claim to know what exactly they’re talking about but apparently Daniel effectively orchestrated this entire fiasco just to annoy some ghost. Lancer is honestly more impressed than disturbed. A for effort but an A- for making everyone's work nigh unusable.

End.

Prompt: For the last project of their senior year in high school, Mr. Lancer is letting his class do presentations on literally whatever topic they want. He is very, /very/ sure that this is going to go poorly, but that's a problem for later...

[dizzydancingdreamer]

You're My Home Too | Loki Laufeyson

Hey lovelies happy Saturday! I hope you all have had a lovely day! Here is the first Loki "drabble" of the event, please do enjoy and make sure to take care of yourselves today!

Appetizers (Tags): Angst, Fluff

Entres (Pairing): Loki x F!Reader (third person)

Sides (Prompts): 6: “You’re all I have.” “You’re all I have too, you know?”

Notes: None, Requested by Anon

Word Count: 2.2k

Dinner at Dizzy’s Master List

She watches as the black haired god tilts his head, eyes locked on his brother. It looks like he’s nodding along, agreeing to something Thor has said, but she can see it— the way his pupils dart across the blonde’s face, flitting over his shoulder before returning, latching on a different spot. It’s unnerving to watch him be so docile. So passive— not at all like the usual, fiery tempered, grinning god of mischief. She’s never seen him look so blank. Something’s definitely wrong.

She has a feeling she knows what it is, too. If she’s right then it’s the same reason she laid awake all night, curled on her side of Loki’s bed, listening to the sound of his steady breathing until the sun came up. She can practically hear the conversation— Thor’s been itching to go home for weeks now. Somehow they’ve always managed to get held up each time— saving the world and what not. Now, though, there’s nothing keeping them. No androids or aliens or wizards. Just her— the best friend— and that’s not going to cut it.

Loki’s eyes flick to hers, blue irises somehow vibrant even from across the room, and she forces the corners of her lips to turn up, an attempt at flaking off the frown that she’s sure has been plastered on her face all morning. If his frown is anything to go by, however, then she would say that it doesn’t work out. Oh well— she didn’t really expect it would.

He can sense lies and even if he couldn’t he would still be able to read her like a book. Half the time it feels like he’s more in her head then she is, always figuring out what she wants before she can think it let alone say it aloud. Usually that’s followed by him dropping whatever he’s doing to get it for her. Unless, of course, it’s a hug— then he’s dropping whatever he’s doing and pulling her into his arms.

Who’s going to hug her if he’s a galaxy away?

Is it even a galaxy? Surely it’s more. A dimension away. Her stomach tosses, the sting in her chest mixing with a wave of the nausea she’s been fighting all morning. A combination of not eating— not being hungry enough to eat— and sadness. No not sadness— grief. Sadness feels easier. It’s waving your best friend off to college— not to another fucking world. This isn’t sadness— this is losing everything she has come to need for an entire year. Warmth and protection and his sea-salt skin and elegant voice. Who else is going to speak so gently to her when he’s gone?

“Dove—” she blinks and he’s suddenly there, kneeling on the floor in front of the couch where she's been sitting for the past hour, legs curled under her and all the way numb— “what’s wrong?”

His dark brows crease together, his hand snaking from his side and reaching for hers. She offers him another pathetic half-smile, tangling her fingers with his long ones and shaking her head slightly. “Nothing, Loki. How’d your talk go?”

She doesn’t miss the way he winces. He tries to hide it, replicating her tilted lips with his own, but, like her, his eyes don’t follow suit. Instead they flash with something that looks too much like dread for her to keep her act up. When her mouth creases into a frown, so does his. It’s all she needs to know— he really is leaving her.

“My brother misses home.” The god reaches out his other hand and— like everything they seem to do— she copies him, meeting him halfway and lacing those fingers together as well. He runs his thumb over hers, his blue eyes intense— worried. “There are a few things we have to sort out. They’re getting impatient.”

They’re. That could mean so many things. It could mean his people— the asgardians. It could mean his family— it definitely means Thor, the god who she can hear pacing from the kitchen. Her eyes pool over the features of the man in front of her, landing on the circles under his eyes. Does it mean him too? Has she been keeping him from going home? The thought makes her throat sting— of course she has. She’s been so stupid, clinging to a literal god. Of course he would have to go home at some point. She was only fooling herself thinking he would stay with her. What’s upstate New York when you have a celestial castle or whatever the hell it is he has?

“Dove?”

She blinks again, zoning back into his even more concerned stare— shit.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, squeezing his hands if only to ground herself against slipping away again. “That sounds important. Your, uh, your kingdom needs you.”

I need you too, though.

It feels like her heart is lodged in her throat and that she’s speaking around it. When she swallows it doesn’t go away— if anything it grows, tears stinging at her eyes, threatening to fall. She hates how selfish she feels. He doesn’t belong to her— he doesn’t belong with her— and she should feel lucky to have called him her friend for this long. Still she can’t help but wonder what her days will look like without him. Empty. Boring. Terrifying. She has friends here but it isn’t the same. The connection isn’t the same— the warmth and smiles and laughter aren’t the same.

She isn’t just losing her best friend, she’s losing her home.

And she breaks.

And he notices.

God, he always notices.

She supposes with the tears now streaming down her face, though, that she can’t exactly blame him for that one. It’s a little noticeable. What she will blame him for is how he releases her hands, instead rising to his full height and settling on the couch, angling his lithe body towards her and wrapping his arms around her stomach. He waits— one beat, two beats— for her to turn as well, pushing up on her knees and throwing her arms around his shoulders. She holds him tight— tighter than she can confidently say she has ever held him before. She has to— it’ll very likely be the last chance she gets. She has to memorize it— him.

“I’m sorry,” she laughs bitterly. It’s more of a sob— the kind that catches in her throat, getting stuck between silent and booming. “I’m being silly.”

Loki shakes his head— she can’t see it but she can feel his jaw brushing her hair, his hands pushing her closer to his chest. She digs her fingers into his jumper, scrunching the green wool like somehow it’ll make this all okay. His hand runs up her back, curling it around the nape of her neck, hand cool and soft.

“No you aren’t.” He murmurs, face still pressed against her hair, and she fights back more tears— he’s too gentle with her.

She doesn’t say anything right away, she just sinks against him, biting her lip and forcing herself to just be in the moment. He smells like rain today. It’s always different— always changing— but today he smells like the summer pavement before a three day thunderstorm hits and it feels fitting.

After a few moments she finally pulls away, tugging against his hold and running the heel of her hand under her eyes. He doesn’t give her much leave, only a few inches to be able to look up at him, blinking away the blurriness of her glassy eyes and sniffling. His lips are pressed together, his head tilted again. Unlike with his brother, though, his eyes never stray from hers. As always, it makes her breath catch in her throat, her heart racing in the way only he can seem to do.

She finally brings herself to ask the hard question— the one that’s been hanging around them for weeks. “When are you leaving?”

His fingers on her spine tense— that can’t mean anything good.

“Today, dove.”

“Oh.”

She doesn’t know what else to say— that and if she says anything more she’s afraid she might start sobbing again. Sobbing or just stop breathing altogether. Today? She couldn’t have had one more night with him? You’ve already had ‘one more night’ for four weeks, the little voice in her head reminds her. It’s time to let him go. She slips her hands around his arms— easier said than done. She knows that once he leaves her life will change— and it might never go back to normal.

Loki’s eyes flash, the blue darkening, a crease forming between his brows. He opens his mouth but no words come out and soon he’s pressing his lips together again, the dejection in his eyes and aura tangible. She has to say something— she can’t leave it on this note. She just has no idea what to say. No idea how to say goodbye.

So she doesn’t.

“You should probably start packing then, yeah?” She pushes her lips into the tortured smile again, muttering the words.

She’s sure he would have forced himself to laugh—

“I want you to come with me.”

— were it not for him speaking at the same time.

Her heart stops when his words flit past her eardrums. “What?”

She must be dreaming— there’s no way he just said what she thinks he said. It has to be her imagination playing a cruel trick on her. Trying to protect her from the pain until the last second. But no, that’s not right, now when his cool hands move from her back to her cheeks, his thumbs running over her cheekbones and drawing her back to him. He leans down, pressing his forehead against hers and she gasps— she can’t help it. His skin is so soft that her eyes flutter close.

“I said I want you to come home with me, dove.” His nose brushes against hers, his words entirely soft.

She’s speechless— completely and utterly floored. “To Asgard?”

He chuckles, minty breath fanning her lips. “Yes, to Asgard.”

She pulls back, head so fuzzy she almost topples over from the motion, hands curling tighter to keep from falling. He really wants her to go home with him? Just like that her heart starts beating again, kicking starting her pulse which begins hammering as the notion of staying with him starts to become clear. He’s not leaving?

“But—” she stammers, blinking rapidly as she tries to form a coherent thought— “why me?”

For a moment he just looks at her, his brows knitting together once more, his eyes filling with something she can’t decipher. He kind of looks confused. Only she could confuse a god. She almost slaps herself, her pulse thrumming in her ears. Why the heck would you ask him that you idiot? Now he’s not gonna’ want to take you with—

“Because you’re all I have.”

He says it so nonchalantly— like it’s a fact and not a confession that makes her very essence roar. She supposes that to him it is just a fact. That when you’re all powerful speaking your mind is normal. It is just a fact and she is just a girl and he is just a god. Fact, fact, facts. Her head spins. This— he— cannot be real.

“I—” That’s as far as she gets before her sentence drops, mouth gaping but empty.

Thankfully he picks it up, continuing his unconcerned profession.

“It’s not home if you’re not with me, my little midgardian. Not anymore.” He shrugs and she almost chokes— how is he saying this so calmly when she feels like she’s going to combust? “I really think you’d like it, actually. It’s very pretty— lots of gardens. Oh, and the library! You would enjoy the library.” He tilts his head, his eyes fading out slightly as he thinks about his home. “I’m sure there will be a ball of some sort when we arrive home. I know, I know— you don’t like big events but—”

This time she’s the one who places her hands on his cheeks, shaking her head, letting the first euphoric giggle out. “Of course I’ll go, Loki.”

A grin spreads across his lips, his eyes widening like he just won the lottery as he leans forward, connecting them once again. It makes her heart jump in her chest. What did he think she was going to say? No? She giggles when his lips press against her cheek, her nose scrunching. He must notice because his mouth curves even more against her skin. Soon his lips aren’t just on her cheek but on her forehead and chin and nose as well.

“Even if we have to go to a ball?” He teases, his voice lighter than she’s heard it in weeks.

“Even then.” She confirms, fingers gliding into his hair and tangling them in the silky strands. She takes a deep breath, nerves thrumming as she adds softly. “You’re all I have too, you know? You’re my home too.”

Loki hums happily against her skin, taking her own confession the same way he had made his own— easily. It’s the best outcome she could have hoped for. She can’t wipe the wide smile from her lips as he wraps his arms properly around her once more. It’s not long before his lips find her ear, soft words echoing against her skin.

“You should probably start packing then, yeah?”

[stephspurs]

A Family Affair | Euro 2020 Football Fanfiction - BONUS MOMENTS

PSA: To all new readers, you don't have to read the series (link below) to understand this, however it would help so that you can understand the preconceived emotions behind the chapter!

The Proposal | la proposta

warnings; none word count; 1703 writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter. link to fic masterlist here

13th July 2024, Germany

Amelia and Ben had found themselves experiencing a slight bit of deja vu. The night before the final match of the UEFA European Championship, Amelia was sat in her hotel suite, finalising her preparations for the following evening. A rematch between the Three Lions and The Azzurri. Who would have thought that three years after the last final, the same two teams (give or take a few players) would be in the exact same position.

The difference this time, Amelia had more to think about than just her brother’s feelings. Her relationship with Ben had grown throughout the 3 years that they had been officially together. Countless family holidays shared together, and with each other's respective families had since become a thing of the past as they had successfully managed to merge both the White’s and the Chilwell’s together to create one big happy family. Ben had asked Amelia to move in with him only a year into their relationship, and although outsiders might think it was fast the couple could only disagree with them. They took each stage of their relationship as it came and when it came, just the two of them how it should be.

6 months after moving in together they had adopted a dog together from the local animal rescue centre, a black Labrador called Maverick who was bi-lingual and responded to both English and Italian, much to Ben’s dismay. Amelia began teaching both of her boys (Mav & Benj) simple words in the language of love  and Ben had a harder time retaining it than the pup. Nevertheless, he loved hearing Amelia’s voice when she spoke to him in Italian and it was something he hoped he could hear every day for the rest of his life.

Amelia had continued her role at Chelsea FC as a tactical analyst for the first team, and Chelsea had honored their promise to the girl to allow her to work in depth with the academy talent which is something she found very rewarding and the part she loved most about her job. Of course she loved being around her friends and helping them achieve their dreams but there was something about fostering youth talent that made Amelia really proud to be in the position that she was, to help these young kids from all walks of life make it in the big scary world of professional football. The smile on their faces when they get a call up to an older division, the tears shed by their parents as they wave them off to go and live with their host family nearby Cobham facility, the same eyes that leak a whole different set of tears as they sign their first professional contract with the club - it makes it all worth it.

Something that was eerily similar to the last time Amelia was sat in her hotel room the night before the European Championship Final is that she was, once again, the tactical analyst for the Italian National Team. This time, however, there was no knock on her door with Federico Bernardeschi on the other side waiting to bring her to the English National Team’s base so she could have it out with her brother and Kyle Walker. Thankfully, her relationships with all of the England team had remained intact but that was largely due to another no-contact ban being enforced between her and the Three Lions. This meant that she hadn’t had a chance to talk to any of her friends, let alone her boyfriend Ben, in three weeks. It was painful for both parties, but necessary to ensure that there was no untowards activity or information being shared.

When Amelia was first offered the job she had sat on it for days before making a decision to rejoin the national team. Ben had actually been the one to push her to accept it, it was only something that would make her life better and he didn’t want her to miss out on any opportunity that came her way - even if it meant that the two of them had to be apart both physically and digitally for 3 weeks. That was the thing that held Amelia back from accepting the position on the spot, she would miss the person that became her right hand man. But Ben’s encouragement made the last few weeks easier, and also made Amelia realise just how ready she was to give herself to him...officially.

Marriage had been something that they had both discussed prior as a natural conversation between two people in a relationship that they could see was obviously heading in that direction already, so it was something that was always in Amelia’s mind. She had found herself at florists buying flowers for their dining room table and absent-mindedly thinking about the perfect wedding flowers for her bridal bouquet. However much to Amelia’s dismay, Ben was yet to ask her the most important question of her life and these three weeks apart have made her more desperate than ever to become Mrs Chilwell.

14th July 2024, Signal Iduna Park, Dortmund Germany

A torturous 90-minute match of football later and the Azzurri had done it, back-to-back UEFA European Champions. The only goal of the match coming from her midfield-maestro Jorgi, which was the direct result of a misplay from Declan Rice meaning the ball fell at the feet of Jorginho as he was directly in front of the goal, Jordan Pickford was no match for the beautifully crafted strike which isn’t anything towards Pickford, no keeper was stopping that ball from going in - it was just that good.

This time however, she was the one being consoled by her brother. The pressure of the situation getting on top of her, 3 weeks of no contact with Ben & seeing him for the first time out on this pitch but not being able to kiss him was getting to her, the knowledge that she was again partly to blame for their heartache. Her brother had seen the look in Amelia’s eyes when the whistle blew and the entire bench of the Italian team ran onto the pitch to congratulate the players, she had remained behind. Wrapping his arms around his little sister as she sobbed into his jersey because she was too empathetic for her own good was not how he predicted the outcome of the evening at all, but he was glad he was there for her. Pulling away from her, he tidied up her face and sent her on her way out to the pitch to wrap her Italian friends up in the hugs that they so well deserved, fully aware of the events to follow the wrap up awards ceremony that same night.

______________________________________________________________

I found myself standing in the centre circle at the Borussia Dortmund home ground, with an Italian flag wrapped around my shoulders and confetti all over the floor at my feet. Looking around at the fans who had stayed behind so they could meet their idols, I could not believe my luck in this world.

“I hope you’re not considering a job out here in Dortmund, Mils? I possibly couldn’t be away from you any longer” Ben spoke from behind me, pulling me out of my trance. I whipped my body around at lightning speed and launched myself at my boyfriend, my soul mate.

“Ben” I whispered into his ear as he lifted me from the ground, feet dangling at his mid shin and my arms wrapped around his shoulders so tightly as if to convey all of the hugs we had missed out over the last few weeks apart.

“Mils, I’ve missed you so much.” He said back to me, expressing the exact same sentiments as I possessed. He put me back on the floor and began to push me away from him, in my desperate attempt at a longer hug I wrapped my arms around his torso and pulled myself back in.

“No Mils, I need to see your face as I do this.” He laughed, pushing me off him again and taking a step back from me.

“Benj, what are you doing?” I questioned him, not really believing my own thoughts as to what was about to happen.

“Amelia, my brilliant Amelia. The past three weeks have done nothing but made me realise I never want to spend a day without you again. There are many ways to be happy in life, but all I need is you.  You are my sunshine, you make me unbelievably happy, you make my good days great and my hard day's worth it just to see your smile in our kitchen at the end of it. Your brain is the most beautiful thing I have ever had the pleasure of knowing, and I hope our future daughter turns out exactly like you so that I have another you to love.”

Ben had descended to one knee as I stood before him, both hands raised to my face to cover my shocked by bright smile and both eyes stuck directly on his own. I hadn’t noticed the crowd of our closest people begin to gather around us to watch the show.

“So in front of God…” Ben nodded his head slightly, I turned my head to see he was referring to Paolo Maldini and shook my head with a little giggle which was copied by everyone else around us.

“...our family and closest friends I want to ask you the question that I know you’ve been patiently waiting for - will you marry me?” Ben pulled out the most perfect ring from a box that I hadn’t even noticed in his hands.

Dropping myself so that I was crouched and on both knees in front of him, I grabbed his face with both of my own hands and pressed the firmest kiss to his lips. My tears ran down my face and probably all over his, he kissed me back. They say a picture says a thousand words, and while I hoped that at least one of our friends had managed to snap a few of this moment, my kiss said only one word...Yes.

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Broken Mirror: Part One

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Word Count: ~1.5k

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill, and angst

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there is any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated.

Feedback is gold, and it’s the only currency I take

"When a good man is hurt, all who would be called good must suffer with him." - Euripides

Thinking about going on a date with Spencer is way different than actually doing it. Gideon got you two the good seats even if it is a first come first serve. However, you made sure to arrive early enough to get a seat by the exit so you didn't have to waste time just sitting around while everyone else leaves. Gideon picked a good day as well since they were playing a two special horror movies, Psycho and The Shining. Spencer hadn’t seen either of them, but you have and you knew you would have a good time.

“Okay, I got literally every sweet thing they had,” you announced, climbing into the bed of your truck. Spencer didn’t have a car since he preferred to take public transportation to work. Sometimes you would be his ride if he asked for it, so it was natural that you two take your car. It was better anyway since you had a 4x4 off road truck with a comfortable bed if you laid down blankets and pillows, which you did. Spencer leaned on the back of the truck as you sat next to him, handing him the candy he requested.

“I didn’t know you liked sweet stuff.”

“Sweetheart, my whole life revolves around sugar,” you chuckled, pausing when you realize what you just said. “Sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?”

“For calling you sweetheart. It just came out,” you chuckled nervously.

“It’s okay. I like it,” he smiled.

“Great, okay,” you immediately felt better.

“So, what do we do here?”

“You’ve never been to a drive-in theater before?”

“Never.”

“Well, some people stay inside the car with the windows rolled down, but that’s only if they have a bench for a seat so they can sit really close to each other. I don’t have that so I chose the bed. We can sit anywhere we want,” you began to demonstrate by moving all around the trunk to show him before settling right… next… to… him, “even here.” You go to move, but he placed a hand on your shoulder to stop you.

“You can stay here if you want.”

“Oh, okay, sure,” you cleared your throat, trying to get the awkwardness out of the way. It was clear Spencer didn’t do this too often which was fine, but you wanted to move past the awkward phase.

“Aren’t these movies two hours long each?”

“Yeah, or more, which I don’t know why Gideon thought getting us tickets for this day was a smart idea. He knows I fall asleep during movies all the time.”

“How do you know Gideon?” he asked. Your intentions were to lean against the car, but you shifted too much and ended up against his side, which he didn’t seem to care. Opening the bag of candy you got, you popped one in your mouth and chewed.

“He was the lead agent on my case,” you finished once you swallowed.

“What do you mean?”

“My sister was murdered by her boss since he kept harassing her at work and she would always deny him. He was the one who helped me through losing her. I mean, she wasn’t my blood sister since my parents were fostering a bunch of kids, but she was my sister. The man killed himself before Gideon and his team could get to him, but at least we know he did it. He had the whole plan and more laid out at his apartment.”

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know,” he said quietly.

“You couldn’t have. It’s fine. The more I talk about it, the less it hurts. I was the one who led Gideon to his apartment since I saw the whole thing after it happened. After that, Gideon and I stayed in touch and would occasionally ask me for help on cases. It’s why he wanted me to join the BAU.”

“That must have been so difficult.”

“It was, but I’m glad I have it. I get to help a lot of people because of it,” you grinned. The first movie started playing, and you and Spencer got comfortable enough to sit through four and a half hours of both movies.

“Did you know due to how repressed Americans were in the 1950s, Psycho is actually the first American film to show a toilet on screen. Consequently, it’s the first American film in which we hear the toilet flush,” you informed him.

“I didn’t know that, no,” he chuckled. 

Halfway through the movie, Spencer began to feel your weight getting heavier as you gave up holding yourself up as to not crush him. He looked over at you to see your eyes closed and your mouth parted. He didn’t want to move for fear of waking you, but he couldn’t help but give a smile at your state.

Walking into work the next day, you couldn’t help but recall the events of yours and Spencer’s date. You did fall asleep halfway in the first movie, and you didn't know why he didn’t wake you since it was supposed to be a date. Nonetheless, when it was all over, you two got some ice cream which was way better. Gideon did a good job sparking up the flame between you and Spencer, but it was now up to you two to keep it lit.

“You fell asleep?” JJ laughed as you, her, and Penelope walked down the hallway to the bullpen. 

Of course, you told your two best friends what happened on the date. You three were getting closer which is why you thought it would be good to engage in some healthy gossip.

“Yes, I did. I always do. But Spencer and I went out for ice cream afterwards which was way better,” you chuckled.

“Did he kiss you?” Penelope asked with a grin.

“No, he didn’t. Well, not on the lips. He did kiss me on my cheek, but it’s a first date and I don’t even know if it’ll happen again. I mean, he hasn’t really talked about it. We haven’t had time to really talk about what this might mean. I can tell he’s nervous and tense which can either mean he’s trying to find a reason to let me down gently, or he likes me but won’t do anything about it,” you explained as you walked into the bullpen.

Spencer was on the other end of it talking with Derek, and when you two made eye contact, you gave him a small wave. He stiffly waved back, and you looked away with a sigh.

“His emotional state is all over the place, but I don’t know what it means,” you shrugged.

“Reid, Morgan, Y/L/N,” Hotch announced when he and Elle exited his office, “document's up on the screen regarding the kidnapping of Trish Davenport.”

“That’s my cue,” Penelope left the group.

“Keep me updated,” JJ whispered.

“Have you read them yet?” Spencer asked as you three walked up the stairs to follow the duo.

“Yeah, I got a copy from the document examiner.”

“What does it say?” you wondered.

“That we've got until 8:00 tonight,” he sighed, closing the door once everyone was inside the briefing room. The note that was left for Evan Davenport, the father of the kidnapped girl, was up on the screen.

“You will follow instructions carefully. You will do this to ensure the safety of your daughter. You will wait for the call. You will answer the call at 8:00 P.M. You will write down the instructions and follow them to the letter,” Spencer read it word for word.

“That gives us less than 9 hours to get to Connecticut, work up victimology on Trish Davenport, and prepare her father for the ransom drop.”

“How do we know the letter is real?” you asked.

“The handwriting is a match for Trish's,” he explained as he showed it. “He dictated it to her, and they found saline on the paper.”

“Her tears,” Gideon muttered.

“He never says ‘I’. He doesn't say, ‘I will call’. He says, ‘you will answer the call’. He's distancing himself from the kidnapping. If he said ‘I’, he'd be taking responsibility for it,” Derek noted.

“There's also another missing element. No mention of the police.”

“Ransom notes almost always forbid police involvement,” Elle stated.

“So, is he expecting law enforcement to get involved?” you wondered.

“Well, if he's expecting us, let's not disappoint him,” Gideon smiled.

“Is everyone familiar with the father?” Hotch asked as he passed out the case files while the plane was in the air.

“Evan Davenport, U.S. Attorney, executive assistant southern district, New York, widower. He assigned U.S. Marshals three times in the past ten years due to death threats,” Spencer spit out the facts.

"Is the protective detail still current?” Derek inquired.

“Around the clock, but Trish declined protection when she turned eighteen.”

“But why kill the boyfriend?” you asked, crossing your legs in your seat.

“Well, if I'm gonna kidnap someone I know, I have to take out whoever's with them. It says here she's got a sister,” Derek stated.

“Cheryl.”

“Any problems? Were they close?”

“Yeah, they’re identical twins,” you showed everyone the picture of both sisters side by side. “Which makes me think was Trish the target or was Cheryl?”

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[suituuup]

pieces - epilogue

That’s it, folks! Thank you for coming along this journey. Huge shout out to @snowonebutyou and @lilhan, this story wouldn’t have been the same without their help.

ao3 link

*

“Come on Bean, you can do it,” Chloe encouraged, holding her arms out towards Marleigh as the one-year-old stood, Beca sitting behind her. 

Marleigh grinned and took an unsteady step, then another one, before falling on her bum. She giggled and pushed back to her feet to make the remaining three steps to her mom, collapsing into her arms. 

“Oh my goodness, you’re walking,” Chloe gushed as she peppered her face with kisses. “Where did the time go??” She set her back down, facing Beca. “Wanna do it again?” 

Beca grinned, extending her arms this time. “Come to Auntie Beca, MJ!” 

Chloe smiled, holding Marleigh’s hips as she spoke close to her ear. “Go to Mama.”

Beca froze and met her eyes, a silent question swirling in them as they simultaneously filled with tears. Chloe’s smile simply widened, and she glanced away from Beca to focus on Marleigh as she toddled to Beca, squealing as she did. 

“You-- really?” Beca asked as she held Marleigh against her. 

Chloe nodded. “You’re not her aunt, Bec. You’ve been there since day one, raising her with me. I know it can’t be official on paper yet, but to me, you’re Marleigh’s other parent.” After a pause, she added, “If you want that, that is.” 

Beca visibly swallowed, and a couple of tears spilled down her cheeks. She cleared her throat, seemingly at a loss for words as she glanced at MJ, leaning in to kiss her chubby cheek. 

*

Beca wasn’t a fan of the cold, but she had to admit that a white Christmas was pretty dope. 

So was Christmas in the Beale fashion. They had spent the day before baking cookies, singing Christmas carols, and once it was dark, had gone out to Rockefeller to see the tree. 

Beca woke to the sound of babbling through the baby monitor that morning, and after finding Chloe sound asleep, turned the device off and slipped from under the covers. She padded to the nursery across the hall and smiled at the sight of a wide-awake Marleigh staring up at her with those big blue eyes. 

“G’morning, Bean,” she murmured, bending down to pick her up. Turned out Marleigh was still a bit sleepy, cuddling into Beca as soon as she was in her arms. Beca brushed a kiss to her forehead. “Merry Christmas.” 

She walked down the hall towards the living room and turned on the tree lights, knowing how obsessed Marleigh was with the colors. 

“Look at aaaaall the presents, Mar,” Beca said as she pointed to the various piles of gifts she and Chloe had hustled to wrap last night. “I think most of it is for you, baby.” 

Marleigh babbled incoherent things, pointing to the tree. Her features broke into a wide smile as she looked at something over Beca’s shoulder, and Beca turned around to see Chloe padding over. 

“Merry Christmas,” Chloe said, leaning in to kiss Beca’s lips, then Marleigh’s cheek. 

Marleigh had a blast opening her presents, even though she looked definitely more entertained by the wrapping paper than the gifts themselves. Beca felt nerves sprout in her belly as she stood up to pour herself more coffee, plucking the small box laying under the tree and handing it to MJ. 

“This is for Mommy,” she whispered, pointing to Chloe. “Can you go give it to her?” 

“Ya!” Marleigh exclaimed and walked over to where Chloe sat. 

Chloe glanced at Beca questioningly, then at her daughter. She took the box, her hand shaking lightly. “Thank you, baby.” Her eyes met Beca once more, then widened as she opened the box to find a sparkling diamond ring. Not any ring; her grandmother’s. “Beca…”

When she finally tore her gaze away from it, Beca had shuffled closer. “That business trip I took to LA a couple of months ago? It was actually to Portland. I wanted to ask your parents if they were okay with me asking you an important question, and your mom insisted I had this ring. Chloe…” she took a deep breath, shifting from a sitting position to down one knee. “You are everything to me. This past year and a half have been my happiest yet, and it’s all because of you. And I want to make this, us, to become a forever thing,” Beca paused, smiling as happy tears stung her eyes. “Chlo, will you marry me?”

Chloe choked on a watery chuckle. “Yes,” she whispered, crushing the distance between them to press a lingering kiss on Beca’s lips. “I love you.” 

Beca beamed. “I love you, too.” She laughed when Bean crashed their embrace, wrapping an arm around her. Her heart felt fit to burst from happiness. “And you.” 

*

They started house hunting as soon as Chloe secured a vet tech position in the clinic she was completing her internship in, in Stamford, Connecticut. After a couple of months’ search, they found a lovely farmhouse in Westchester County, just outside of Bedford, located an hour from Manhattan and thirty minutes from Stamford.

It was built in the 1900s in the New England housing style, complete with the traditional covered porch, metal standing seam roof, rafter tails, and barn-style garage. The interior had been fully renovated, giving way to a fresh and modern spin. 

“There’s a greenhouse, too, and a cottage,” Chloe said with a soft gasp as they wandered about the three acres that came with the property after visiting the inside. Marleigh was just ahead of them, exploring. “We’d have enough space for a dog, and maybe some goats and chickens?” 

Beca chuckled. “Goats and chickens? Since when are we having a farm?” 

Chloe giggled, shrugging. “I really want Bean to grow up around animals.”

Beca smiled and kissed Chloe’s cheek. “Fine, we can have goats and chickens. I won’t be going around the chickens, though. They kinda scare me.” 

“Really?” Chloe asked, unable to stop herself from snickering. 

Beca glared. “Don’t make fun of me, Beale.” 

“Mommy!” Marleigh called out, holding up what looked like a daisy. “Look. Pwetty.” 

Chloe crouched down to her level, smiling. “Very pretty. Do you like it here, baby?” 

Marleigh nodded her pigtails bouncing with the movement. She pointed to the swingset. “We go there?” 

Chloe pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Go ahead.” 

They signed the papers a few weeks later and were set to move there the following summer, after Chloe’s graduation.

All the pieces of her puzzle were finally coming together, and Chloe couldn’t feel happier.

*

“You ready to clap, Bean?” Beca asked as she and Marleigh sat in one of the back rows, among the other students’ families. “It’s almost Mommy’s turn.” 

“Mommy?” Marleigh asked, pointing at the stage. 

“Not yet,” Beca murmured, smiling at her impatience and brushing a kiss to her head. 

Two students later, Chloe walked across the stage. 

“Mommy!” Marleigh called out as the Dean handed Chloe her diploma. She clapped from her spot on Beca’s lap, beaming. Chloe waved and blew them a kiss before she headed down the steps leading off the stage. 

The ceremony ended forty-five minutes later, and Beca and MJ met up with Chloe by the side of the stage. 

“Congratulations, baby,” Beca murmured, kissing her softly. “I’m so proud of you.” 

Marleigh dutifully gave her mom the flowers she and Beca picked up this morning. “Congwatulations, Mommy!”

Chloe bent down to pick her up. “Thank you, my love. I feel like this calls for ice cream. What do you say?” 

“Yes! I want four scoops!” Marleigh declared, holding up three fingers. 

Beca chuckled, holding up four fingers herself. “That’s four, Bean.” 

Marleigh copied her, grinning “Four scoops!” 

Beca tickled her sides, drawing a string of uncontrolled giggles from the toddler. They settled at the park with their ice cream, enjoying the warm June afternoon. 

Chloe cuddled close to Beca as they watched Marleigh play with her toys ten feet away. “She’s growing up way too fast,” Chloe murmured. 

Beca hummed. “Is that your subtle way of telling me you’re ready to have another kid, Beale?” 

A giggle flitted past Chloe’s lips. “No. I think we’re just on the brink of getting a case of the terrible twos, so it’s probably best if we only have one kid to handle for now.” 

Beca laughed. MJ was definitely showing some temper and had already given them a taste of what toddler tantrums could be like. “That’s probably wise. And maybe we could get married first, too?” 

With the house hunting and Chloe finishing up her school year, they hadn’t really talked about it. 

“Can we do it at home? I really want my dad to be there.” 

Her father’s condition had stabilized over the last year or so. They had visited him a few times since MJ’s birth, and Beca could tell he was relieved to be able to hold his granddaughter and interact with her despite his condition.

“Of course we can,” she murmured, brushing a kiss to Chloe’s forehead. “I was also thinking… that we could stay there longer this summer? Two weeks is going to fly by, and if we stayed a month then maybe your mom could take some time off?” 

Alice had been caring for her husband for the last five years, and Chloe had shared that she was worried it was taking too much of a toll on her. 

Chloe lifted her head from Beca’s chest. “Would you really be okay with that?” 

“Yeah,” Beca said, brushing a kiss to the corner of her mouth. 

“Mama,” MJ called as she walked over, holding a rock. “Pwesent.” 

Beca held out her hand, smiling. Marleigh had an obsession with rocks, lately. “Thank you, baby. I love it.”

MJ snuggled in between the two of them, curling up against Beca’s chest. 

“You tired, Bean?” Beca asked softly, dropping a kiss on her hair. MJ didn’t answer, her breathing evening out a few seconds later. 

Beca shared a look with Chloe and smiled. It felt odd to think of how, ten years ago, she was convinced music and success would be the key to her happiness. And it had been, for a good five years, up until Chloe came back into her life. 

This, what they built together since then, brought Beca to another level of happiness she didn’t know was possible. 

*

They got married on a warm September evening, at an orchard with the ocean as a gorgeous backdrop. 

Marleigh was supposed to be the flower girl, but she changed her mind last minute, refusing to go first and clinging to Chloe, who ended up picking her up before she walked down the aisle alongside her father. 

Beca’s father walked her down the aisle next, and Chloe heard Marleigh gasp. “Mama looks pwetty,” the two-year-old whispered. 

“She really does,” Chloe agreed quietly, tears of happiness already filling her eyes as Beca came to a stop in front of her. 

“You look…” Beca faltered, shaking her head as what looked like awe flashed in her features. “Incredibly beautiful, Chlo.” Her focus shifted to MJ. “And you’re the cutest flower girl ever.” 

Marleigh giggled and motioned for Chloe to set her down, but she remained by Aubrey’s side. They recited their vows in front of their closest friends and immediate family, exchanging rings and somehow managing to make it through the ceremony without bawling their eyes out. 

“I now pronounce you, wife and wife,” Aubrey said, a beaming smile breaking across her features. “You may now kiss.” 

Chloe grinned and cupped Beca’s cheek, stepping closer and pressing a lingering kiss to her lips as their friends whistled and hooted. 

“Yuck!” Marleigh exclaimed, and Chloe found her peeking through her fingers when they parted. 

She laughed and picked her up, she and Beca kissing each cheek before they started down the aisle under the applause of their loved ones. 

*

“Where we going?” 

Beca smiled as she laced Marleigh’s shoes. “We’re going to the courthouse, Bean.” 

“Wha’s that?” 

“It’s where big decisions are made, by people we call judges. Today we’re meeting with a judge who will decide if I can become your real mom.” 

They had tried to explain that to Marleigh since signing the petition for Beca to adopt her, but Marleigh had argued that Beca was already her Mama. It had been a long process since their wedding, with background checks and a visit from the child protective services. 

“I hope the judge says yes,” Marleigh said as she swung her legs. 

Beca smiled. “Me, too.” She kissed her forehead and picked her up, heading down the stairs. Part of her expected Marco to show up out of the blue, but she knew that was unlikely, as he probably didn’t know of Marleigh’s existence. 

Nerves sprouted in Beca’s belly when they sat down for the final hearing. Marleigh sat on her lap, asking questions about the room they were in and being a welcome distraction as they waited for the judge. 

“And that?” 

“That’s a gavel,” Beca said. “The judge hits it when he makes a decision, or sometimes, when there’s a lot of people in the room and they’re talking too loud, the judge will slam it on their desk to request silence.” 

They stood when the judge walked in, the middle-aged woman motioning for them to sit down while she reviewed their file. 

“Mrs. Rebecca Mitchell, is it still your intent to adopt Marleigh Beale and become her other parent under the eyes of the law?” 

“Yes, your honor,” Beca answered, her voice shaking slightly as emotions swirled in her chest. 

“Mrs. Chloe Mitchell, do you still consent to Rebecca adopting your daughter and giving her, her last name?” 

“I do, your honor.” 

The judge motioned for them to come forward. “Sign here, and here.” 

Beca sucked in a sharp breath, meeting Chloe’s eyes before she took the pen and scribbled her signature at the bottom of the document. Chloe did the same right after, casting Beca a smile. 

“You say yes?” Marleigh asked, looking up at the judge. “Mama is my real mom, now?”

The judge chuckled, smiling warmly. “She is. Congratulations.” 

Beca wiped a tear sliding down her cheek. “Thank you.” 

She pulled her family into a long embrace as soon as they stepped out of the courtroom, basking into the moment.

“Can we go get ice cream, now?” Marleigh asked, breaking the silence. 

Chloe smiled and kissed her daughter’s cheek. “I think that’s a great idea.” She slid her hand into Beca’s, raising it to her lips and dropping a kiss to her knuckles. “Come on, Mitchells. Ice cream’s on me.” 

*

Fall was Chloe’s favorite season. It got incredibly beautiful in Westchester once the tree adorned their golden and scarlet leaves, and one of her favorite things to do was sit on the porch swing while nursing on a cup of coffee or tea, sometimes reading a book, other times watching her daughter play with her dad in the backyard, like today. 

Her parents had moved to the East Coast six months ago, as they wanted to spend more time with Marleigh. It made sense that they moved into the cottage on Beca and Chloe’s farm, so Chloe could be around to help her mom out. They had fully renovated the interior, with a fully-equipped kitchen, master bedroom, and cozy living and dining room. Marleigh was thrilled to have her grandparents around. She loved to play games with her grandpa and do farm tasks with her grandma, like feeding the chickens and goats, collecting eggs, or gardening.

“Go fish.” 

Marleigh made a disgruntled noise as she reached for another card. She huffed dramatically when Mike asked her for a card she had. “Grandpaaaa.” 

Chloe looked over her shoulder when she heard approaching footsteps. She smiled at her wife as Beca sat down beside her, and reached over to stroke her growing belly.

Chloe released a content sigh. “Do you ever feel like… pinching yourself? Because this feels too good to be true?” 

“Every morning when I wake up next to you,” Beca said, a teasing lilt to her tone. 

Chloe giggled. “Corny.” She turned her head to look at Beca. “When I was at my worst, I thought my life as it was back then would be it. I thought that I was far too broken to come back from it,” she paused, glancing at Marleigh and her parents and blinking back the tears threatening to blur her vision. “And now I have all this, and sometimes I can’t believe that this is my life. I feel incredibly grateful and lucky. More than I can put into words.” 

Chloe had been clean for nearly five years now. She hadn’t touched cocaine or alcohol since her first day of rehab and the cravings were no longer there. She sometimes thought about it on difficult days, but that’s all it was: a thought. It drifted away nearly as soon as it materialized, because Chloe was stronger now, and she knew how to handle the fleeting temptation. 

Beca pressed a kiss to her temple. “You fought for that, Chlo. First by leaving Marco, then going to rehab, and being determined to keep your head above the water through the bad days that followed.” 

Chloe’s free hand slid inside Beca’s. “Thank you for believing in me. For believing that there was still a piece of the Chloe you once knew in there.” 

Beca lifted their hands and pressed a lingering kiss to Chloe’s fingers. “I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” 

Their peaceful, heartfelt moment was soon over when the tornado that was their four-year-old ran up to them. 

“Mama,” Marleigh said as she settled on Beca’s lap. 

“What’s up, Bean?”

“How did you and Mommy meet?”

Beca hummed. “We went to school together. Mommy forced me into joining this singing group.” 

Chloe gasped. “I didn’t force you, Beca Mitchell.” 

“You burst into my shower,” Beca muttered as Marleigh giggled. 

“While you were naked?!” 

“Yep,” Beca said, widening her eyes at their daughter. “Can you believe that?” 

“Was it love at first sight?” 

“No. It was something deeper than that. For me at least. Something that grew slowly in my heart. So slowly that it took years for me to realize it.” 

“Years??” Marleigh gasped. “That’s a long time.” 

“Yeah. I was an idiot.” 

Chloe giggled. “We were both idiots.” 

“But now you’re together, and that’s what’s important, right?” 

Chloe narrowed her eyes at MJ and reached out to ruffle her red hair. “When did you get so smart?” 

Marleigh shrugged, then dashed off to go back to her grandparents, drawing a chuckle from both Beca and Chloe. Beca glanced at Chloe, squeezing her leg. “You alright?” 

“Mmm.” Chloe rested her head on Beca’s shoulder, her hand finding Beca’s stomach once more in hopes of feeling a kick or two. “More than alright.” 

-fin-

[winterscaptain]

emergency.

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

a/n: credit for this awesome idea goes to snow (@agenthotchner original post linked here)! 

warnings: there’s some description of a decent-sized cut across the palm of the hand and the treatment of said cut in an emergency room, as well as some swearing rating/word count: t / 2096

AO3 | Masterlist | Requests Open!

+++

“Really, I’m alright,” you assured your (very well-meaning) neighbor. She was dead-set on getting you checked in at the emergency room, even though you insisted you could stitch yourself up at home. You brought your medical packet with you – including all the intake forms, copies of your credentials, and your emergency contact information. Your go bag was at your side, packed and ready with three days’ worth of clothes.

Your neighbor stayed with you until she was sure you wouldn’t bolt, leaving you as soon as someone called you to the back.

Another Tuesday night, another kitchen accident. You’d sliced your hand open while cutting an avocado for a late-night snack. Fortunately, it was your non-dominant hand. Unfortunately, your neighbor caught you as you scuttled to your car for your first aid kit.

So here you were, sitting on the edge of a bed in one of the private emergency rooms while a nurse flushed the wound and prepared it for stitches.

+++

“Hotchner.” Aaron sat up in bed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

“Am I speaking to Aaron Hotchner?”

“Yes. May I ask who’s calling?”

As he listened to the emergency room admin tell him about your incident, he threw on a pair of jeans and a black v-neck from the drawer. He called Jessica as soon as the nurse finished relaying the address to the ER closest to your home. Jess was in the neighborhood, coming from a girl’s night with friends, thank God.

With a kiss to his sister-in-law’s cheek and an earnest “Thank you,” he was in the car and on the way.

+++

There was some kind of commotion right outside your door, but you were busy watching the nurse as she applied local anesthetic to your hand and wrist. The bleeding had slowed enough for the nurse to maintain it with a few swipes every minute or so, and you could see the extent of the damage.

You’re a fucking moron, you know that?

You rolled your eyes at yourself and was only a little startled when the door flew open.

“Hotch?”

He checked in with the nurse, who smiled and nodded at him over your hand. Suddenly, he was sitting right next to you, looking over your intake paperwork. “They called me. I got here as fast as I could.”

Shit. “God, I’m so sorry. I forget you’re the first on my emergency contact list.” You bit your lip. “I really should make it Emily or Penelope or someone who doesn’t have kids.” You said it more to yourself than him.

To your surprise, he laughed. “No, it’s okay. Jess was in town, and Jack is still sleeping. I’m glad I can be here for you.”

+++

When they pulled out the suturing material, you paled and blindly reached for Hotch’s hand. Instead of just taking it, he tucked your head into his chest, holding you there with one hand while he rubbed soothing circles on the back of your free hand with his thumb.

You probably looked silly, tucked into your friend’s chest while your arm was fully extended to your side, under a blindingly bright light. You couldn’t feel the stitches, but it still squicked you out.

Hotch’s voice rumbled through you as he spoke close to your ear. “You’re okay. Breathe with me.”

“Hotch...” It came out as a bit of a panicked whine as you heard the doctor shuffle some tools around.

“Aaron.” He squeezed your hand. “Aaron’s just fine. It’ll be over soon. Just a little while longer.”

You took a few shaky breaths in time with his, but your hand was still a vice grip around his. He smelled really good. You knew that already, having sat next to him on the plane more than once, but it was different without the professional boundaries.

And without the suit.

“You’re doing great. Squeeze as hard as you can and keep breathing with me.” His voice was gentle and constant. It was sufficiently distracting.

Oh, right. He’s coached someone through literal childbirth before.

God, you’re such a baby.

“I’m sorry I’m such a baby.”

He laughed, taking care not to jostle you. “We’re all babies over something.”

“You’re not a baby over anything.” It came out as a grouchy gripe, your humor not strong enough to get past the tightness of your jaw.

After a moment, he shrugged around you. “Spiders. I hate them.”

You lifted your head, keeping your arm steady. The hand holding you to him dropped to your waist, where his protective grip kept you centered. “Really?”

Brown eyes smiled down at you. “Really. Jack takes after his mother and thinks it’s hilarious. ”

A shaky smile crossed your face, and you heard the telltale rasp of ripping gauze.

“All done,” the nurse said. “You’re good to go. Change the dressings daily and take care not to rip the stitches. They will dissolve on their own in about a week.”

+++

“Hotch, I can really manage on my own.”

“You have your go bag, and I know for a fact you’ll rip the stitches in your haste to grab something on your way out the door tomorrow morning.”

You couldn’t argue with him there. He pulled into his driveway and helped you out of the car.

When you were safely inside with Jessica headed home, you took your pain meds while Aaron locked his gun away.

“Oh shit,” you said, checking your bag. “I don’t have my gun. It’s in my safe at home.”

“You can use my second. I know you prefer the Glock 26, but my 17 is about the same weight in the trigger.” He handed you a mug of tea and plopped down on the couch. “I can have Anderson grab yours during the day tomorrow if we get called out on a case.”

“Thanks.” The gesture didn’t go unnoticed – offering his second gun was like offering his right arm. You settled down beside him, tucking your feet under you. “I can make up the couch, so you can head to bed. I’ve kept you up long enough.”

“You know where the linens are?” He asked, one eyebrow aloft.

“I have built many a fort with Jack, and I pay enough attention to get around.” At his dubious glance, you continued. “Second hall closet, third shelf. Blankets, sheets, and an extra pillow.” You smiled at him over your mug.

“You know...” he swallowed and seemed to struggle with his words. “You don’t have to make up the couch if you’d be more comfortable in my room.”

“Trying to get me in bed, Hotchner?”

He floundered for a moment, and you laughed softly.

“I’m kidding.” You set your mug on the coffee table and brushed his hair back with your good hand. “If you don’t mind, I’ll take you up on it.”

“I definitely don’t mind.” He leaned into your touch like a cat.

He’s adorable.

“Thank you for staying with me tonight.” Your hand fell to his jaw, where your thumb brushed back and forth on his cheekbone.

Careful, don’t want to cut your other hand on that.

His eyes closed as you took more of his weight into your hand. “Of course.” He turned his head and kissed your palm.

Your heart jumped into your throat. He gently picked up your injured hand in his and pressed a kiss to your gauze covered knuckles. That particular act didn’t do anything to lower your heart rate. He released your hands, soft and gentle, and led the way down the hallway toward his room.

Jack’s door was open, and you saw his little sleeping form by the glow of his nightlight, curled in a ball. You wondered if the Hotchner boys slept the same way.

You’ll find out soon enough, won’t you?

Jesus.

“You can borrow one of my shirts,” Hotch said, closing the door quietly behind you, “since yours is...” He gestured to your t-shirt, and you note the blood down the front of it.

“Damn. I liked this one.”

Hotch smiled with one side of his mouth. “I’ll soak it overnight. We’ll probably be able to save it.” He turned and shuffled through his drawer, pulling out what looked to be a worn-in FBI Academy shirt and some flannel pajama pants. “These should cinch enough for you.”

You took them from him with your good hand. “Thanks, Aaron.”

His hands lingered over yours under the soft fabric. “Bathroom’s through that door – take your time. There are extra toothbrushes in the cabinet to the left of the sink. Make yourself at home.”

You settled into the en suite bathroom as he padded down the hall. You changed quickly, brushed your teeth (twice), and draped your bloodied shirt and pants on the edge of the sink.

Hotch was pulling back the covers and checking his email when you walked back out. He looked up and smiled at you.

When he brushed past you to soak your clothes in the sink, your heart caught in your throat again.

You slipped into bed, your back to the bathroom door. You closed your eyes and tried in vain to fall asleep before he returned.

You failed.

The lights in the room went out, leaving the blue cast of moonlight in front of your eyelids. You felt the bed dip as Hotch tucked in beside you.

“You’re terrible at pretending to sleep,” he whispered.

You could tell he was close to you, but when you opened your eyes you saw how close. His face was peaceful in the dark, his mouth and brow relaxed (for once).

“I wasn’t pretending.”

“Mhmm. Sure.”

You rolled your eyes and shut them again, insistent this time. “I’m ignoring you, Hotch.”

“Oh, so it’s Hotch now?”

“It is when it's nearly two in the morning and we have to leave for work in six hours,” you grumbled.

He chuckled, and his minty breath fanned over your face. You could feel him sober, and you opened your eyes. His face was pensive, and you were caught off guard by how open and expressive he was at home. You could read everything on his face as if it was printed out and handed to you.

“I don’t-“ he stopped, and his mouth pressed into a thin line for a moment. “I know we’re both adults who can share a bed without anything going on.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, doing your best to hide your amusement.

“What I mean is, I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable or –“

You pressed a finger to his lips. “Aaron, shh.” You let your smile shine through for a moment. “I’m here because I want to be, and I’m next to you because I want to be, okay?”

He nodded, still watching you carefully. You removed your finger from his mouth, ignoring the thrill it sent through you.

Adults. Adults who can share a bed without anything going on.

You rolled over and got comfortable, smooshing the pillow underneath your head. With your good hand, you reached behind you and searched until you found Aaron’s shirt.

“C’mere.”

He huffed a laugh and curled up behind you, snug from shoulders to calves. His arm hovered over your waist for a moment. You squished it to you, lacing your fingers with his over your belly.

“Thank you for taking care of me.”

He hummed and tucked his face into your shoulder. “Anytime.”

“If you want...” you trailed off, your bravery evaporating when you actually processed what was about to come out of your mouth.

“If I want...” he echoed. You could hear the smile.

“You could – You could kiss me if you wanted to.”

Well, there it was.

You felt lips press to the soft fabric over your shoulder, trailing up to the sensitive skin near the collar.

“I thought you’d never ask,” he said, and you suddenly felt fully and pleasantly warm.

When you turned your head, he was waiting for you. Yes, the angle was awkward and it was dark, but maybe laughing into each other’s mouths wasn’t as embarrassing as it seemed.

He kissed you once, twice, three times. There was a sweetness, a chasteness about it. You’d both waited a long time, and it wasn’t like you didn’t want to jump his bones, but now was decidedly not the time.

You turned back around and pressed back against him as to not miss out on a single millimeter of contact.

Your sleep took you quickly, and you nearly forgot about the nine stitches in your palm.

tagging: @arganfics @quillvine @stxrryspencer @agenthotchner @happyhotchner @hurricanejjareau @fics-ilike @octothorpetopus @ange-must-die @ughitsbaby @rousethemouse @criminalsmarts

[whitherliliesbloom]

weaving the present, illuminating the future

[ ffxivwrite2021 ] ★ [ masterlist ] ★ [ prompt #30 - abstracted ]

[ illya & friends ] ★ [ 2,849 words ]  ★ [ streamers au ]

modern / streamers / online celebrities au where the spud squad are all popular streamers who frequently collab together. centers around illya and kaye mainly, but briefly mentions a bunch of other friends and illyanaud.

abstracted- withdrawn in mind, inattentive to one's surroundings

the spud squad announce their indefinite hiatus right after releasing their one year anniversary single, and illya cannot help but to feel just a tad bit melancholic.

Illya hasn’t bothered checking her notifications, or looked at either her computer screen or mobile phone, really. The sounds of ping after ping on linkcord, text after text and the flood of new tweets mentioning the one tag she followed on twitter easily made her overwhelmed - and so she’d opted to switch her devices off entirely before burying herself under the covers for the evening, trying desperately to distract herself with a copy of a manhwa that she’d borrowed from Laurelis. 

But it was futile, her head is empty and heavy, yet swirling with a myriad of many emotions all at the same time. And after feebly reading and re-reading the same page over and over only to realize she hadn’t been paying attention to the contents of the book at all, she closed the manhwa shut with a heavy sigh before closing her eyes, praying to the heavens that exhaustion would lull her quickly to sleep.

Outsiders would merely assumed she was simply nervous from the release of their newest single, Ultramarine Hymn, a collaboration between the members of their massively popular streamer group made in celebration for their one year anniversary. They’d prepared for months, working together with a widely renowned music composer and even performing live on stage with a set of professional make up artists, producers and videographers to film their first ever music video.

For everyone barring Mint, it’d been their first time ever singing and dancing for a large audience online. While the experience had been undoubtedly fun, it was still their first real exposure doing anything of such professionalism and scale- and so her flat mate Kaye wasn’t surprised at all to find her shaking like a leaf as she sat next to him on the couch just several minutes prior to the premier of the video.

While the premier of their first music video was indeed a good half of the reason why Illya felt so out of sorts and nervous for the rest of the night up until sunrise, the true reason for the melancholy she bore in her heart came from the announcement that was posted right after the release of the music video, and it’d kept her awake for a good portion of the late night until she mercifully fell asleep, clutching the lavender purple ribbon she’d worn in the music video tightly in her hands.

The spud squad was going to go on an indefinite hiatus shortly after the release of Ultramarine Hymn - a result of an eight months long business trip Kaye had been assigned on as a professional programmer. Streaming and being something of an internet celebrity was never the man’s main source of income, so it’d be unwise of him to turn down the golden opportunity to further his career in favor of staying behind to continue streaming. 

Naturally, Lily was going to move overseas with him as well - and while she has made it clear to her audience that she will continue streaming whenever she could afford the free time to, the radically different time zones between Eorzea and Doma meant it’d be difficult to participate in anymore spud squad activities - at least until she and Kaye would return.

Mint too, announced that she’d been preoccupied with practicing for auditions into several professional idol management companies... and while Illya herself isn’t as busy as the other three, juggling between helping with business at her mother’s florist, studying for an entrance exam into a medical school and streaming on top of that has become quite a hectic endeavor. 

Thus with much reluctance, the six of them came to a consensus and decided to announce their indefinite hiatus, a news that they’d hoped would sit well with their impressively large audience of fans if it came with the release of a music video to remember them by.

Illya knew that it was a necessary change of process - that new doors are being opened for each of them and it was only right for them to seize the opportunity to chase their dreams. Deep inside, Illya truly did feel overjoyed for her friends, loved them all with of her heart so much that the hiatus was but a small fraction of the cost to pay in exchange for their happiness.

But that didn’t mean there wasn’t a hint of melancholy and bitter sweetness within that earnest joy and cause for celebration. None of the six of them knew when they’d next be able to work on something like this again, or if they’d even find the time in the future to work together again at all. It was perhaps because of their shared understanding - that unspoken sadness between all of them that they’d agreed to prepare something special to celebrate one year of their collaboration - a song that spoke of hope and a brighter future. 

‘The more you give up, the more regrets await you.’

By the time the sun rose, accompanied by the shining of morning light through her pastel pink curtains and the melodic chirping of birds nesting upon the wisteria tree just outside her window, her phone has been assaulted with a mountain of unchecked notifications that she dreaded to sort through. 

The girl knew she couldn’t possibly keep her phone locked and switched off forever, and so she’d booted it up after washing up in the shared bathroom, before walking out of her bedroom, staring down at her screen with a light frown.

The smell of fried bacon wafts through the apartment. The sound of sizzling oil intermingles with Hazel’s cheery singing, and Illya takes the time to open the latch of her enclosure, allowing the little sparrow to flutter about the living room until it settled peacefully next to the potted sunflowers that sat upon the window sills of the kitchen, watching the raven haired man flipping eggs effortlessly with a flick of the frypan. 

“Good morning, Kaye. Thank you for making breakfast, again.” Greeting with an ever bright smile, Illya sits herself down at her designated seat at the dining table upon a bright floral cushion, watching as the man turns his head back for a moment before returning his attention to the stove. 

“It’s Sunday, so it’s my turn. You don’t gotta thank me.” He walks over to the dining table to dump the steaming hot sunny side ups and crispy bacon onto their plates, cups of orange juice already poured and waiting, which Illya takes into her hand to take a quick sip out of.

“You checked eorzeatube and twitter yet?” The young man asks as he sets the frypan down, gesturing towards the phone in her hands.

“N-no... Is it urgent?”

“Not really, no.” Kaye raises an eyebrow, sitting himself down and jabbing a fork into his bacon. “But aren’t you curious about how the music video did?”

“I-I am... A little, I suppose... but-” 

Her stammer gives her away her listlessness, and Kaye shoots the girl a furrowed scowl and a frown. 

“Is somethin’ botherin’ you?” The man asks, and Illya’s lips curl upwards into a wide, deceptively warm smile.

“Just nervous is all.. What if the fans didn’t like it?” it wasn’t a complete lie, though not the total truth, but Illya was always exceptionally talented at hiding her negative emotions, and Kaye seems to buy it enough to slump back against the back rest of his chair and toss the bacon into his awaiting mouth, chewing quietly and swallowing before speaking.

“You won’t know till you see for yourself.” 

It’s an unfortunate reality that he’s right, and Illya finally gives in and taps onto the icon for the twitter app, waiting for the timeline feed to load before her star spangled violet eyes widen in complete disbelief.

99+ notifications, an equally unbearable amount of private messages in her inbox as well as the first tweet literally being about the music video - Moth’ir’s retweet of their short promotional video from their official spud squad twitter account, which has garnered over 40 thousand likes and 10 thousand retweets.

#spudsquad and #ultramarinehymn are trending, and Illya gives in to her curiosity enough to tap on the tags and scroll through the tweets.

cosplaycon2022 hype!!! @/oracleoflight  • 18h  my good friend illya and her friends #spudsquad just released #ultramarine hymn and it’s so so so good!!! please give it a watch!! 

EEEEEEEEEE @/driftinintiawind  • 18h @/academician you didn’t tell me your gf was an idol bro???? GOOD SHIT #ultramarinehymn

 pink is JUSTICE @/rosepinkcutie  • 17h OHHHHH I’m goihng to cwyg #ultramarinehymn made me cryuy. iT’S SO GOOD...... #spudsquad i LOVE YOU

Alphinaud @/academician  • 17h Do give your support to #spudsquad ‘s new music video, #ultramarinehymn ! They’ve worked very hard on it!

soliriii @/windupsunshine  • 17h thank you #spudsquad for all the joy you’ve given me for the past year!! what a way to celebrate <3 #ultramarinehymn

hien’s booty @/floortank   • 16h  HEY #ultramarinehymn IS SO LIT THOUGH????? WTF

thancredwaters @/gunbrkrs  • 16h #spudsquad Good job my daughter hasn’t stopped playing this song on repeat for the past 2 hours. 

Nyx @/underthebloodmoon  • 15h Sharing a good friend’s music video here. #ultramarinehymn #spudsquad

Nidhstinien @/azuredragoon  • 15h [youtube link] #ultramarinehymn nice

vergotohelldad @/reveilleur  • 14h only 4 hours after release and #ultramarinehymn is already trending. twitter has some fucking good tastes in music thank the twelve.

Lamittens! @/lalamitt  • 14h Oh to be spud squad long time fan :pleading: I’m so fed... #ultramarinehymn #spudsquad

nhelly @/blackestmage  • 13h I turn around and #spudsquad decided to drop an absolute banger. loving #ultramarinehymn !!

Aymeric de Borel @/officialborel  • 13h A wonderful song that elicits a sense of optimism and hope. #ultramarinehymn

kafuuchi @/cloudsysmile  • 13h hey is it just me or is kaye getting hotter :blush: still a kayelily simp tho!! #ultramarinehymn

KoKomi Komi @/sangopriestess   • 12h @/starblossoms Congratulations on the new MV!! It’s very catchy! #ultramarinehymn

The scroll is endless, timeline filled with a mixture of both familiar and unfamiliar twitter handles, yet all collectively singing praises and awe for the music video and the song. It’s hard to not be overwhelmed by the sheer amount of positive reception their hard work and efforts have received, and Illya tears her eyes away from the screen to look up at Kaye with a twinkle in her wide violet eyes, and the man looks back at her expectedly. 

“I-It...It seems to be very well received.”

“’Seems to be’? The video’s got over five hundred thousand views on eorzeatube from the past 18 hours.”

Illya almost chokes on her eggs, eyes blown wide as she swallows her food abruptly and her voice raises into a high, bewildered squeak.

“F-f-five... hundred thousand???” 

By the twelve, that’s far more than even their highest recorded number of viewers on their biggest stream - and it’s been less than a day since the release of the music video. She cannot imagine just how ecstatic Mint must be at having such a successful idol-esque debut. 

“Does that ease your worries now?” Kaye asks, snapping the girl out of her train of thoughts once more, and he is met with a smile and an affirmative nod in response. 

“It does... thank you, Kaye.” 

Knowing that weeks of preparation, practice and hard work has paid off and finally bore fruit was the biggest relief Illya’s experienced in a while, and the simple knowledge that the sentiment of their song got through to a good number of the fans warmed her heart.

But in the midst of the joy, there was yet an underlying somberness lingering in the air between the pair that was not lost to either of them, as silence quickly fills the atmosphere and quickly turns the space around them cold. 

Scrolling through the top tweets didn’t exactly help either - because while it had quickly eased Illya’s worries of the music video being negatively received, in between praises for the song came the posts of fans who were dejected by the hiatus announcement.

Most of them had been supportive, of course... Their audience has ever been so welcoming, understanding and wonderful to them. But that perhaps made the disappointment they felt even worse on Illya’s melancholy, as she once again quickly slips back into the depths of her own internal mind. 

Because as well received as the music video they’d released is, it still ends with them going their separate ways, and it fills Illya with a sense of already festering loneliness that she refuses to admit verbally to.

She never did like goodbyes. 

‘The time that flows in the blink of an eye. The fear of continuing to be as we are.’

Neither Kaye nor Illya particularly enjoyed talking about their troubles, not even to each other, and so while Kaye could make an educated guess on why Illya seemed so despondent, he makes no comment on it. He was never the best at comforting others anyway.

He lets the silence fester between them even after Illya sets her phone down to focus on her plate full of breakfast, fishing his own device out of his pants pocket and begins to type away at it. 

It isn’t until after a whole ten minutes has passed that he’d finally look up from the screen, expression unreadable yet his voice sounding a modicum more relaxed than it had been a while ago as he calls out to Illya as she was drinking the last of her orange juice. 

“Hey, you’re free tonight, right?” The raven haired man asks, and Illya sets her glass down with a quirk of her eyebrow, if there was even a hint of sorrow in her, she didn’t allow him to hear it.

“Um... I am. Why?”

A smile from Kaye is a rarity, let alone one that carries such gentleness and ease... but the one he’s wearing now is so warm that it blows away the storm clouds that she hadn’t even noticed hanging over her head. 

“Then, are you cool to do an Among us stream tonight? With the other four, of course.”

Sparkling lavender eyes widen, and Illya is silent for a brief moment before stuttering out in response.

“A-aren’t you going over to Lily’s place to help her pack though?? And... the others.. aren’t they-”

“I’ll only be there for the afternoon. We’re only gonna be flying next week so there’s no rush. As for the others, I already asked. You can even invite Alphinaud if you want, the more the merrier.”

“But didn’t we just announce that we’re going on hiatus? I don’t want to trouble the others if they’re too busy either-”

Her pink lips slightly part, voice timid and soft. Hesitation and uncertainty briefly flashing through her twinkling eyes as she averts her gaze from the man and hides them under the shadows of her pure white bangs. But it does little to keep the light red burn of her cheeks and the bridge of her nose from Kaye, who only rolls his eyes at her in response.

“Gods, stop being so nice. I said I already asked and they’re down for it.... well, mostly. Ichi said he wanted to sleep but I’ll drag him outta his bed if I have to. We may be on hiatus, but it’s not like we’re gonna stop hanging out together, right?”

Though Kaye’s tone is rough and his words are painfully honest, his tongue as sharp as the gaze of his midnight blue eyes, Illya knew there was kindness laced beneath his huff, and the tension in her body slowly begins to fade, making way for a brighter, far more honest and radiant smile that washed away the chill of the air like a spring breeze.

He’s right, as he often is. 

Even if they may go their separate ways in the future, they will still always remain connected as friends, holding the memories they made together close in their hearts. 

Her phone’s buzzing with notifications again, and she takes a peek down at the lit up screen, her heart warming at the equally excited messages from her beloved friends. From Mint who is spamming :mikurave: emotes, to Lily who was telling Ichi that no, a schedule with his bed isn’t a valid excuse and Nanami who was offering to set up the stream for the night... Things are all as it should be, right here and now where they are together - where they are home. 

“If everyone’s fine with it then... I’ll join too. Don’t raid Ichi’s flat, though!” 

Illya lets out a giggle that rings out like windchimes in a cool summer breeze, and Kaye clicks his tongue with a shrug of his shoulder.

“He gave me his keys for this exact reason, he doesn’t mind. How do you think he always makes it in time for our streams? All I need to wake him up is a fork and porcelain plate and-”

“Kaye! That’s... that’s so mean-”

‘I'll hug you with equal parts expectation and anxiety. You and I, weaving the present, illuminating the future.’

[rae-writes]

You and me, Me and you

Kite x reader

warnings : mentions of nsfw, mentions of death, slight angst

word count : 2.k

Authors note : I have a problem with commas, despite being a straight A student in my English classes, I still forget where I should and should not put a comma so please don’t mind if they’re in the wrong spot.

You met Kite when you were quite young. You were thrown out on the streets at an early age and had just been caught stealing. They would’ve beaten you if Kite hadn’t saved you, swooping down from the rooftops and distracting them. 

“GO!” the boy in blue yelled. He looked a few years older with long, snowy white hair that went down to his waist and a cap that helped cover his eyes. That’s all you saw about him though, as you quickly turned and followed his order. The mysterious boy followed, eventually passing you as you both ran from the townsfolk. 

You stopped a ways away, breathing heavily. “T-Thank you. My name is Y/n.”

The boy glanced down, seeming hesitant to tell you who he was. After a bit of catching your breaths, however, he spoke up, “Kite. My name is Kite.”  He continued to observe you before giving you an offer, “Would you...like to come stay with me? You don’t seem very good at being able to live on the streets.” 

Your eyes sparkled, “Really? You’d let me? I was thrown out not too long ago...so I don’t know much.” 

Kite nodded, motioning for you to follow him. You walked for a while before coming up to an opening. Upon entering, you noticed it was a sewer, which didn’t seem to be that bad. After a few more turns, you came to a dead end where two or three animals were laying around a small spot on the floor with some dirty blankets piled up. 

A grin broke out onto your face, “This is so cool!” In return, Kite himself gave you a small smile. 

“This is where I stay and now that you’ll be staying too, no one can know about this place alright? From now on it’s just you and me.” 

You looked up at your savior and smiled a big, bright smile, “Me and you!”

----

After a few years of living together, someone was waiting for you and Kite when you got back from getting food that day. The man introduced himself as Ging Freecss, a pro hunter. Kite had started pestering the man to teach him to be one, and after a while you did too. Ging eventually agreed, although you weren’t his “Official” students or anything. Soon, it was time for you to take the hunter exam. 

“I’m so nervous, Kite!” 

Said boy rolled his eyes at you, “It’ll be fine Y/n. We were trained by one of the best hunters in the world. We got this.” Kite stopped walking when he noticed you weren’t following, stepping back to stand next to you again. 

“I know, it’s just...what if you pass and I don’t? I don’t...I don’t wanna be left behind.” Your voice wavered as you looked down to hide the tears that were forming. “I feel like I just found you and I don’t wanna lose you.” 

A hand came down on your shoulder, “You won’t lose me.” Before you knew it you were pulled into a warm, brief hug. Looking up, you saw Kite give you a confident smile, “It’s you and me, remember?” 

You nodded, smiling back at your best friend, “Me and you.”

----

You both, not surprisingly, passed the exam with flying colors. You were very excited to relax and celebrate a little, but your mentor had different ideas. Your and Kite’s next “official” hunter task was to find Ging. He gave the two of you his hunter’s license and set off to go “hide”. 

“Find one of the world’s best hunters? Is he insane?!” You were, to put it simply, not happy. You and Kite had just passed the hunter exam, which took a month or two, and now you were being forced to play hide and seek? Seriously? 

“We’ll find him, Y/n.” Kite was rummaging through your guys’ stuff, getting ready for the hard journey ahead of you. 

“We will? In case you haven’t realized, he’s literally-” 

“One of the best hunters in the world. Yes, I know. Which is exactly why we’re gonna find him.” He stood, walking over to grab your hand, “You and me.” 

You sighed, but smiled nonetheless, “Me and you.” 

----

After a few months of hard work and sleepless nights, you and Kite had located Ging. The trip wasn’t in vain as you’d thought it’d be, as you had met a lot of friends along the way. There wasn’t anything you really needed to do after hunting down your former mentor, so the two of you finally had time to relax and celebrate how far you’d gotten. 

“Well Kite, you were right. We did it.” You were impressed with yourself, even more so with Kite. You never thought as a kid this is where you’d be, but you weren’t complaining. 

“Y/n.”

You blinked, looking over at Kite in confusion at his sudden serious tone. “Kite?”

He stood to his full height, walking over to you and holding his hand out. As soon as you grabbed it, Kite pulled you in close, to the point where you could feel his breath fanning on your face. “Y/n...I never thought I’d have someone to care about until you came along. These past years have been amazing to say the least so...I uh...would you be my girlfriend?” 

You stared at him in shock, noting his pink tinted cheeks and downcast eyes. He was just about to pull away from you when you grabbed the sides of his face, “Kite…” His eyes shot up to yours and you smiled, tearing up slightly. “Of course I’ll be your girlfriend.” 

Kite’s eyes widened, before he brought you into a kiss. It was kinda messy and definitely inexperienced, but you loved it. This is what you’ve wanted for years, although much to your dismay, he pulled away and leaned in to rest his forehead on yours. 

“You and me.” He nuzzled your noses together, going in to brush his lips against yours.

You brought him in for another kiss, “Me and you.” 

----

The night Kite made love to you was beautiful. The area was surrounded by trees with a crystal clear pond in the middle, sparkling due to the starry sky. It was unlike anything you’d ever experienced. 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” 

Carding your hands through his long hair, you smiled, “I’ve never wanted anything more than this.” The pure love that shone through the smile Kite gave you was heart melting. He gently pushed you backwards, laying you down on the soft forest floor. 

Kite leaned in, brushing his lips against yours, looking in your eyes with an abundance of emotion. His touch was soft, gentle as the two of you undressed each other in the light of the moon. It gave the impression that Kite was glowing, his beautiful white hair and pale skin sparkling in an ethereal way. 

“You and me.” Kite’s gaze was intense, something you wanted to get closer to and shy away from at the same time. The way he was making sure you really wanted this almost brought tears to your eyes. 

You’ve never loved anyone more than you loved the man on top of you. “Me and you.” 

----

You and Kite had really always been together, you couldn’t even remember the days before you met him anymore. So while this didn’t come as a surprise to anyone that knew the two of you, it still made you shocked and overjoyed. 

“Y/n,” 

You’re heart rate accelerated at nearly an alarming speed.

“We have been together for as long as I can remember and it’s always been the two of us. Maybe that’s why this won’t mean anything to a lot of people but it means something to me. So would you, Y/n L/n,” Kite looked up from his position on the ground, pulling out a glittering silver band, “Marry me?” 

You couldn’t fight the smile that overtook your face, immediately dropping down to be eye level with your Fiance. “Yes!” You weren’t able to say anything else as Kite basically launched himself into your embrace, the two of you falling to the ground while laughing happily. 

Kite pulled himself off of you, “I know it’s not much but…” he flashed the inside of the ring to you. Engraved on the side was ‘You and me, Me and you.’ 

Tears sprang, and you choked out a laugh. “Kite, it’s perfect. You’re perfect.” Wrapping your arms around his neck, you laughed, whether in disbelief that you had gotten so lucky or in pure joy you couldn’t decide. 

He pulled back, grabbing your left hand and sliding the ring on. “I was gonna wear mine but I figured you would want to put it on me.” Kite pulled out an exact copy of yours, engraving and all, just a little bigger. “You and me.”

Your face was starting to hurt from all the smiling you were doing as you gently took his ring and put it on his left hand. “Me and you.” 

----

Tragedies are a given in life, you just weren’t expecting one to happen so soon. The Chimera Ant came out of nowhere, Kite taking the blow as he tried to protect the three of you. Your entire world had stopped and you felt like you couldn’t breathe.

The single, torn off arm laying on the grass would haunt you for the rest of your life. Time slowed as you looked back to Kite and the thing standing next to him. Anger and blood lust engulfed you, both your and Gon’s nen spiking in rage. 

Killua knocked Gon clean out, which made you falter in your movements. 

“A wise decision Killua,” 

your eyes snapped to Kite, 

“Now take Gon and get outta here!” 

Killua turned and ran but you stayed rooted to the floor as Kite summoned crazy slots. You couldn’t leave Kite, you wouldn’t. However when his gaze locked onto yours, you swear you heard him say something. 

“You and me.” 

You choked on the air you were breathing as tears started running down your face, shaking your head violently. Number 2 was picked and his scythe materialized. His eyes told what more he couldn’t say and you felt your heart shatter. 

“Me and you.” You turned and ran, sobbing as you quickly caught up with Killua and grabbed both him and Gon. You didn’t let go of the boys or stop running until you reached the checkpoint entry of the NGL. 

After a few hunters arrived, you set off without a word, going back to the spot you had regrettably left Kite. When you arrived, nothing was there. Not even his arm. That gave you a shred of hope but the dread in your stomach wouldn’t disappear, even as you screamed out in pure despair, “KITE!” 

----

You, Gon, and Killua were taken to the place they were holding Kite. Shoot and Knuckle had found him a couple days ago, however, the three of you had to wait and were watched to determine if you could handle seeing him. Shoot released Kite from his nen cage and Gon was the first one to walk forward, getting slapped around by what looked like Kite but you knew it really wasn’t.  

Gon had left the room, his promise of fixing the man in front of you lingering in the air. It felt like you were paralyzed, stuck having to watch the man you loved stumble around like a puppet. 

“Y/n...”

“Leave.”

“But-”

“I said LEAVE!” 

Everyone filed out of the room at your request and as soon as the door shut, you broke down into sobs. What did they do to your love? You glanced up at Kite, pondering how you could get close to him without making him attack you. 

“Kite…” you forced your nen to grab a hold of him and walked forward. “Kite.” 

He started thrashing, growling at you but unable to move as your nen kept him in place. With the way he was now, you were at eye level as you reached your arms up and wrapped them around his neck. Miraculously, he stopped trying to attack as you nuzzled your cheek against his. 

“I swear, I will help Gon fix you. We still haven’t gotten married, you know. You’re...you’re still too young to go, we have our whole lives ahead of us.” You pulled away, grabbing his face, “We will fix you. I will fix you.” Leaning up, you kissed his forehead and backed away. 

Kite started thrashing around once more as you headed toward the door. 

“You and me, Me and you.” you released your nen and shut the door, hearing Kite trying to knock it down. You would fix him. Even if it killed you. 

----

It felt like years, but really it had only been around 30 minutes. You and Gon were running towards the place Kite was being held, with Pitou running in between. Again, it felt like years before you reached the large building and made your way down to Kite. What happened next made you wish you never came at all. 

“This man...This man is dead. He died in our fight.” 

There was a sharp ringing sound in your ears, and your throat closed up on its own. You watched as Kite swayed from side to side before falling to the ground face first. You heard a scream and perhaps it was yours but you paid no mind as everything started to blur. Not long after, Gon dropped to the floor.

“Kite is...dead?”

You nearly dropped as well, stumbling towards your lover and pulling him in your arms. There were no sounds as you sat with Kite draping over your lap, his head resting on your chest. Your body could not even produce the means to sob and cry out, everything was just numb. You didn’t notice when Gon and Pitou left, you stayed rooted to your spot on the floor while subconsciously rocking Kite back and forth with your body.

“Kite...it was supposed to be Me and you, remember?”

----

When Morel busted through your hospital room, saying that Kite was alive you thought you’d finally gone crazy. After his explanation though, you realized that you hadn’t lost Kite after all, even if he was in a girl’s body now. So after Gon recovered, you followed along with him to where Kite was staying. 

Gon motioned for you to go visit Kite first, so you let Spinner lead you to the room where he was in. 

“Kite? Someone’s here to see you.”

“Send them in.” His voice was higher than it had been, but still kept the rich sounding tone.

You quietly walked in, noting his back was turned toward you. He stood, maybe too soon for your liking, and turned. 

Kite now had pinkish red hair, with purple eyes and freckles. He was also...shorter? Your lips curled up, a small laugh coming from you. 

“What’s so funny, Y/n?”

You faltered at the mention of your name, finally looking into Kite’s eyes. “I’m taller now.” 

That made his lips curl up as well, “That’s what you’re worried about?” The laugh that followed was eerily familiar. 

You couldn’t stop the tears that started streaming down your face. Kite was actually here. Alive and in front of you. So why couldn’t you move?

“I know it’s weird. I look different and well...I am in a girl’s body now. But I...I hope that doesn’t make you run away from me.”

You glared, although your heart wasn’t really into it. “Seriously? We’ve been through everything together and you think I’m gonna run away just because your shape is different?” Your body moved on it’s own, wrapping your arms around Kite’s waist and lifting him up. “Idiot.” 

His laugh this time made your heart melt as you gently set him back down. The hand that caressed your features were so familiar yet so different at the same time. “You and me.” 

You smiled, fishing out Kite’s silver band from your pocket and presenting it to him, jokingly dropping down on one knee. “Me and you.” 

[staylavendertea]

music, ya know

this is a complete impulse of lying in bed middle of the night thoughts that i don’t even know if anyone’s gonna see that have been stemmed off the experiences of the past couple days, topic of 1:41 am mind boggle:

music and it’s aesthetic and importance in literal every sense cause it’s just that important to me

first experience of realizing this, i’ve always loved film scores and listening to music and the orchestral pieces from movies and shows, but it really seemed to hit me recently, like the fact that this week’s new LOKI episode, no spoilers, has the most badass score and a badass scene with such a perfect mix and musical atmosphere. i literally had one of my best friends over, who has a very small interest in comics, cinema, marvel in general, especially a show about a norse comic god that they know nothing about, and whilst they sat there for my own regard, watching the show like a normal human being would, i sat there clinching their hand, watching in awe as our music is louder than actors talking tv speakers spurted out the most spine tightening world building story and just wandered “jesus that was good” and whilst i will always think about the superior acting, cgi, the amount of different people that just went into those few scenes and like what was physical set and what was computer image and what the hell did i just watch that has my brain running olympic marathon circles right now?

the thought that said brain kept going back to was that fucking score. it was literally tearing apart of every corner of my head and why was it doing that?

second experience, another marvel one, but i digress. black widow (no spoilers i promise), thursday night, movie theater for the first time in i can’t even remember how long now and we set through so many previews just for fucking boss baby to start playing and the reaction of the theater to make me burst out laughing.

however whatever works in that little projection box, gets fixed and the movie is pushed to just a little before it starts, a nice small pepsi ad, the regal rollercoaster intro (if you go to regal movie theaters ya know what i’m talking about), and then i hear it - the marvel studios logo - something so musically engraved into my head that my ass that can’t sing for anything, can harmonize with the sound and makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up around movie theater surround sound. but i can’t think of that now, i’m here to watch black widow, a movie on hiatus with the rest of the world for so long now, a character i didn’t know much about it or truly, didn’t have the most connection with in the first place. yet through that one movie, i seemed to build one of those.

ofc though scarlett johansson’s beautiful acting and world building, but it isn’t until the end of the movie that i even realize why. it was the fucking score again. when i think about it, the beginning of the movie felt like all of black widows scenes in the avengers movies for me, kinda just, there. not really emotionally tugging, not bad ofc either, but just, there. in the present, watching something cool in motion. but then it hits, what i can only describe as a theme that somehow tells the entire black widow movie in one singular composition. something so badass, story telling, but also just singularly black widow-esk. i can tell you that i walked out the movie theater rambling about the composition and looking up composers.

third experience, the most recent as it was literally like 20 minutes ago and sprung one train rail of a thought process that immediately tugged me into typing this brain vomit into a tumblr post. i have playlists. for everything. and when i say everything, i fucking mean everything. i’m a writer and a reader, i have playlists mostly for the young avengers, my most utter comfort characters, and their stories i’m writing. i also have playlists/genre/specific song for about every book i read.

when i read red white and royal blue when that came out, i noticed i listened to one of the drunks by panic at the disco the entirety of the ending of the book and the words and music fit together like puzzle pieces, not only did it make the reading experience better, but i was so fucking emerged in my over hyper-imagitive brain that when i finally actually finished the book, i still never left. rewind present day to the beginning of this past june, one last stop comes out, ofc i get it the day it comes out with my anticipation building like wildfire. i start reading that night and i put on my recents on my liked songs playlist (true to true spotify user) and i slowly over the next day as i read and finish the book, windle down to the genre, then the band, to the album, to the exact song that feels like the carbon copy of the words i’m reading. that song was only ones who know by the arctic monkeys. now go back to this past week, anyone who reads the carry on series knows, anyway the wind blows came out this past tuesday. i waited till wednesday to buy the ✨pretty special addition barnes and nobles copy✨ so that the dear friend that indulged me by watching loki that same day could buy it at the same time and make a cute book date or whateva. i started reading that night and something just felt ,,, off. i didn’t know what it was, but i was living off the pure joy that simon and co give me so i ignored the feeling. until i realized why it felt off this morning. i wasn’t listening to any fucking music, literally nothing, not even queen. motherfucking. queen.

i looked for the snowbaz playlist i made when i read carry on for the first time back in 2016/2017 when i was still a freshman in high school just to remember i deleted that literally forever ago. so i made a new one. like an hour and a half ago. very inspired on how i made the playlists for the young avengers and all their stories. letting the music talk.

the fact that all these rambling thoughts have led to this conclusion makes my head hurt, but for me at least in my own experiences. music talks. a two way conversation. a radio broadcast, turning the peg until you match the same frequency thats being put out and you can hear it and understand it. it’s like when you see comedians on stages or actors on panels, they talk, you have reactions, you talk back, and so forth the loop continues until the last voice, last note, rings out. music and songs and orchestral pieces and bands and composers and lyric writers are telling you the stories in reverse. they don’t know their doing it, obviously they meant something entirely different in their creations, but it’s like literature and any work of words and storytelling. interpretation. to me, the notes, pianos, violins, guitars, drums, singers, cellos, and anything that can make sound you can think of, is telling you something. whispering in your ear as you watch or read. facial features, emotions the characters dont say out loud, outfits, they way their standing or talking or moving or interacting with anything and everything.

when i just made that carry on playlist, i played it, decided to try read some good almost 2 am fan fic as you do, my hanging on by a thread sleep brain telling me words aren’t recognizable right now, and tighten myself into a blanket to see if i can sleep at all. the playlist still plays and my never shuts up head thinks it’s own daydreams, stresses out about anything it can, that is until the song plays. the one that just speaks the carry on trilogy language. the one that i found whilst i was reading wayward son and then would play whenever i re read carry on. the one that started this whole way too long ass post in the first place. cant be alone tonight by atlas. i heard just the first sound and i saw them, as if i were in the same room, like i never even put the book down in the first damn place because i’m actually terrified of finishing it. i could see simon in his oversized hoodies, baz in an outfit that was way too good just to be sitting inside, agatha looking as pleasantly pretty as ever, penelope poking fun at shepherd, and shepherd poking fun right back; bickering, laughing, saying the dialogues i try to remember so i can write them later, existing.

in a way music doesn’t just talk, but it lives. it lives and breaths. a three way conversation you could say. characters, stories, plot, and settings talk to the music, then the music delivers us listeners the message, so that we can send one back. this literally took me over an hour to write and i should point the important note that i do have synesthesia where colors and sounds and colors and words do the association so this entire thing might be me being entirely biased, but alas, i love sound so much and if there is anyone else that feels the same ways as i do as just a simple good film score and song makes anything ten times better, feel free to talk, i will totally be awkward, but i need some music freaks like myself around so feel free to hit me up, also if you love movies and cinema also feel free to hit me up as i need movie buddies and now it’s 3 am and i will be going to bed - peace out 🛸