#so finally i dropped math so that senior year i could take extra english classes

[honeypiehotchner]

winter love (all i want for Christmas is you) -- Hotch x Fem!Reader

Hi hi hi!! I have literally been writing this on and off since September, and now I finally get to share it!! A few quick things: this fic has very much Hallmark vibes but does have a good dose of angst too; for the sake of this fic, Aaron was born and raised in Virginia; and Jack was never born (sorry buddy!).

I listened to Michael Bublé’s songs “All I Want for Christmas Is You” and “Cold December Night” a lot while writing this, so feel free to play those while you read! xx.

(The gif is from google because once again, my gif search is broken on here because apparently this post is too long?? Rip me)

Summary: You’ve returned back to your hometown after leaving to get your education, but you didn’t expect to run into your childhood best friend (and first love). 

Word count: 9.4k

HOTCH MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST

If you told yourself a few months ago that you’d be moving back to Virginia, you would’ve scoffed and probably laughed -- loudly. Your mom, on the other hand, would’ve been elated, and swore she knew it.

Like she’s doing now.

“I’m just so excited to have you home again,” she gushes, helping you carry boxes of your clothes up to your old childhood room.

The room needs some work, like taking down all these embarrassing posters and changing the sheets to something not so cringe-worthy (thankfully, it’s a full-size bed instead of the old twin you grew up sleeping on). But it’ll be fine for the time being. It’s not like you’re going to find an apartment right before Christmas, or that you even want to. It’s been a while since you’ve spent a full Christmas season with your mom.

You’ve been studying out of state for the past six years, working to get your masters and doctorate degrees — which you’ve completed. But now you need a job and a new start, which is why you decided to come home.

You’ve missed Virginia a lot more than you’ll admit. It’s hard not to miss your hometown when you’re gone from it for so long.

“We need a Christmas tree,” you say, as you come back down the stairs. “Christmas is next week, how do you not have a tree up yet?”

“I wasn’t going to get one without you,” your mom says like the fact should’ve been obvious to you.

You laugh as you plop down next to her on the couch. “I know. We should go tomorrow.”

“Whenever you want to,” she smiles, squeezing your arm. “Have you been to your coffee shop yet?”

“My coffee shop?” You raise an eyebrow. “Since when has it been mine?”

“Since you practically lived there during high school,” your mom counters.

She has a point. “Well, no, I haven’t. I just got here.”

“You should go.”

You raise both eyebrows this time, turning your entire body to face her. “What are you doing?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why are you trying to get me to go back there?”

“Why don’t you want to?”

You give her a look. “You know why.”

“I don’t.”

She does. She knows exactly what happened there.

“I’m not repeating it,” you mutter. “And I’ll be finding a new coffee shop, thank you very much.”

“Oh, you can’t let one bad experience stop you from going there!”

“So you do remember!”

“How could I forget? When you were a wreck for months after. I still never forgave him for that, you know.”

You shake your head, settling back against the couch pillows. “It’s been long enough now that I think forgiveness won’t hurt anyone.”

You say that, and yet you don’t want to step foot in that shop ever again.

+++

It was the summer before your junior year. Aaron was a rising senior, so there was the weight of it being his last year already hanging in the air. Especially when he was already looking at a pre-law track for college — meaning he’d be insanely busy after graduation with not much time for you.

Unfortunately, you didn’t realize that his being too busy for you would start before then.

You were a year younger — technically almost two, but the way your birthday fell, you were only one grade younger — but that didn’t stop Aaron from being your friend. At first you thought he had ill intentions (as most older boys in high school did), but he didn’t. He genuinely enjoyed your company, and you genuinely enjoyed his.

More than genuinely. You say now that you don’t believe in love at first sight, but you know that’s because it already happened for you, and you believe it to be a one-time deal.

That one time was when Aaron sat across from you at the lunch table.

You were alone and reading a book. You were a freshman then, and being an extra year younger didn’t exactly help in the whole making friends department. Especially when a lot of your peers were already aware of your age.

But Aaron wasn’t aware, nor did he even care.

He saw that you were alone, and reading, and he decided to sit with you. He wanted to read too, anyway, but he knew he didn’t always like being alone when he read. Something told him you were the same way.

He was correct.

It took almost the entire fall semester before either of you said one word to each other. Sometimes you’d be too engrossed in the book you were reading to even notice he’d sat down in front of you. And when you would finally notice, he would be the one with his nose too deep in the book to notice.

But eventually, you started sharing book recommendations.

Which eventually turned into helping each other with homework. You were always better at math and Spanish than he was (you were already in the sophomore levels of these classes as a freshman), but he was always good with history and English. He must’ve noticed you were in freshman English and history, but he never commented on it — at least not in a way that said he was bullying you.

That winter break was when you started going to the coffee shop together. It was within walking distance of the high school, so the two of you would go at the end of the day until your parents could pick you up. Sometimes your mom would drive him home, or vice versa.

And when Aaron got his license, he’d drive you both there and drop you off at home.

The two of you were inseparable. Almost literally.

Until Aaron met Haley.

Haley was in theatre. She was everything you weren’t. Aaron’s age, pretty, funny, outgoing, and worst of all: popular.

You watched your best friend fall in love.

And that wouldn’t have hurt as bad as it did if it wasn’t Haley he was falling for.

You kept your feelings for Aaron quiet, even to your mom — though you found out later that she always knew. You had almost thought he felt the same, or that he might be beginning to, and then suddenly he was talking about some girl named Haley.

Only she wasn’t just “some girl” to him, or even to you. Everyone knew Haley Brooks.

Slowly, your lunch table conversations were less about what the two of you were going to do the coming weekend, and more about Haley. How he was going to get her to notice him (join theatre, even though he never liked theatre before her). How he was going to ask her on a date (it wouldn’t be a date at first, just dinner after theatre rehearsal, that ended up being with the entire cast, but he sat next to her). How he was going to win her over (he brought flowers to the first performance and surprised her backstage). How he was going to ask her to be his girlfriend (that was the same night as the flowers, completely unplanned, but she said yes).

How he thought he might want to marry her one day.

The last hurt most of all. He confessed it to you one night out of the blue as he was driving you home after school. You knew you could handle him being in love with someone else. Some sick part of you knew — or hoped, rather — that the relationship wouldn’t last. What high school relationship lasts longer than a few months, anyway?

But when Aaron fell for Haley, he fell completely. And hard.

He started cancelling plans with you to spend time with Haley — before they were even dating. When they were dating, he stopped making plans with you altogether.

Then came the summer before his senior year.

It had been months since you saw him last. You had a new lunch period the second half of the year because one of your favorite teachers asked for help during the period, which meant you didn’t have lunch with Aaron — but you don’t even think he noticed.

June came and went. The two of you barely saw one another, barely talked when you did. But when you did, you clung to those moments like they were your only lifeline. In a way, they were.

July finally came and he actually made plans to see you. He said he wanted to get coffee again, catch up, hang out for a few hours, sit in silence, even, whatever you wanted. You were excited.

Some part of you thought that he had broken up with Haley — wishful thinking, but you were sixteen and in love, what else were you supposed to think?

But he hadn’t broken up with her. They were very much in love. You know. You witnessed it.

Apparently, Haley didn’t like the idea of Aaron getting coffee and lunch alone with a female friend. So, she took it upon herself to tag along.

You saw them sharing a kiss through the window, Aaron’s back facing you. When they pulled away, Haley’s eyes caught yours, but she said nothing to Aaron, just pulled him back in for another kiss.

You didn’t go into the shop that day. And you haven’t since.

The last time you saw Aaron was the day before he moved to college. He was stopping by to say goodbye to you.

You were reading a book in your room, and your eyes caught the movement on the driveway. You told your mom to say you weren’t home.

You watched him leave from your bedroom window, hands stuffed in his pockets.

+++

You heard that Aaron and Haley got married. Not because you wanted to hear, but because your mom told you. She probably meant well, but you drank an entire bottle of wine that night. You weren’t even 21 yet at the time.

Of course, it’s been years since then. You’re all fine now, and you’ve got the student loan debt to prove it.

But even with three degrees, job hunting can be a bitch. Especially this time of year.

You need coffee.

You blame the fact that this coffee shop is the best one around. And the fact that it’s Christmas season, meaning they have your favorite drink again.  

Dark chocolate peppermint mocha. It’s a godsend. And you haven’t had one in years.

Well, you have. But they haven’t been from here. They haven’t had this shop’s specially made peppermint whipped cream, or the peppermint stick that can be used to stir.

You hate how much you have to psych yourself up before you walk inside. You don’t even know where Aaron is these days or what he’s doing. He could be halfway across the country for all you know.

So, with that fact in mind, you walk inside. You embrace the familiar sight and smells, remembering what it felt like the last time you were here.

You move toward the counter, falling in the short line to the register. And your stomach flips when you see a familiar face standing in front of you.

Well, his back is facing you, so you don’t see his face, but you know it’s him. There’s this thing about first loves. It doesn’t matter how long it’s been since the last time you’ve seen them. You’ll always recognize everything about them. The back of their head, their shoulders, their hands, the way they walk.

Their voice. Even if it’s deeper than the last time you heard it.

Maybe he won’t recognize me.

But what you don’t know is that no amount of time could pass to make you unrecognizable to Aaron.

Or that he saw your reflection in the glass case next to him when you got in line, and he’s been internally trying to figure out what the hell to say to you since.

If it hadn’t been for his voice, you wouldn’t have recognized Aaron at all. A black coffee? That’s it?

The barista pours it and slides it over to him before he’s even done paying. He’s at a coffee shop -- this coffee shop, and he orders a black coffee?

Who is he?

You step up to the register as he steps away, and you swear you see him looking at you through the corner of your eyes. But you must be seeing things because why would he do that?

You focus on ordering -- a medium peppermint mocha, complete with the whipped cream and peppermint stick. After paying, you step to the side to wait for your coffee.

You nearly knock right into Aaron, but you stop yourself, well aware of his presence.

Another thing about first loves: you’re always painfully aware of their presence.

���Hi,” he says, awkward and fumbling even though it’s only one word. He’s wearing a stuffy suit and tie, which seems odd, but you’re positive that’s just normal lawyer attire. He probably lives in a suit these days. His hair is shorter than it used to be and he looks older, but so do you. Despite all of this, he’s still Aaron. He’s still the same Aaron Hotchner you fell in love with at sixteen.

“Hi,” you return the awkward smile, tugging on the strap of your purse. After a beat, you nod toward his drink. “Black coffee, huh?” You try to tease. “Who hurt you?”

He laughs loudly then, shoulders and head shaking. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too, Hotchner,” you murmur, wrapping your arms around yourself.

The conversation dies for a moment, so you busy yourself by looking at the different cakes and pastries in the glass case. You probably should’ve gotten one, but maybe another time.

Another time. Fifteen minutes ago you wouldn’t be caught dead in this shop and now you’re already thinking about another time.

“Are you busy?” Aaron suddenly asks, prompting you to look at him with furrowed brows. “Do you mind if I join you?”

“Not at all,” you smile gently, knowing you might regret this later. But it’s been over a decade since you’ve seen him last. One coffee won’t hurt.

And I’m over him, you remind yourself, no matter how untrue it might be.

Once you have your peppermint mocha -- finally, you think, it’s been too long -- you walk with Aaron to find a table. A lot has changed about this shop, but one thing that hasn’t (because there isn’t much that can be changed) is the seating.

Aaron leads you to your old table. The table the two of you practically lived at.

It makes your heart warm and ache all at once. The drink you decided to order isn’t helping matters either.

“So…” You pause, shifting in your seat. “What are you up to these days?”

“You stole my question,” he jokes.

“Tough,” you smile into your drink. “I asked it first.”

He chuckles, but answers anyway. “I’m working for the BAU now.”

“The B-A-What?”

“The-- FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit.”

Your eyes widen. “Did you… Did you really just say you’re working for the FBI?”

“I think so,” he says. “I’m the unit chief.”

“You’re the-- Okay. So, you don’t work for the...the BAU, they work for you.”

“We’re a team,” he offers.

“Said every boss ever,” you quip, taking a long drink of your mocha. You take the peppermint stick in between your fingers and stir, eyebrows furrowing down at the swirl of coffee and whipped cream. “So...what do you do exactly?”

He opens his mouth to answer, then stops, hesitating. “Do you really want to know?”

You give him a look. “Of course I do.”

“It’s not great.”

“Aaron, just tell me, or I’ll start reciting my dissertation word for word.” Your statement stuns him to silence, so badly that you almost laugh. “That’s boring. Working for the FBI can’t possibly be boring.”

“Oh, it’s never boring, that’s for sure,” he mutters. “We profile serial killers.”

“You what?”

He laughs. “We look at their behaviors and crimes and build a profile, what they might look like, their age, that stuff.”

“Intriguing.”

“I can’t believe you’re interested.”

“I can’t believe you thought I wouldn’t be,” you counter. “You know I thrive off this stuff.”

“I remember,” he says quietly.

And just like that, you remember, too.

It’s so easy to forget about all the hurt he caused, all the pain he left behind. Especially because you know he never intended to hurt you. He would never do that, not to you, not on purpose. You never told him how you felt. It’s not his fault he couldn’t read your mind.

“Well, you’ve got a doctorate,” he says, shifting the conversation. “What else are you up to?”

“How did you know it’s a doctorate?” You raise an eyebrow. “Are you profiling me? Did I use that correctly?”

“Yes,” he smiles. “And no, not intentionally. You said you’d recite your dissertation. Those are normally written to get doctorate degrees. You always wanted one, I assumed you met your goal.”

“You assume correct,” you nod. “I’m back to start job and apartment hunting, but after the new year. I wanted to spend some time with my mom.”

“How is she doing?”

“She’s good, she--” You pause, shaking your head with a laugh. “She actually brought you up yesterday.”

“Me?” Aaron looks genuinely shocked.

“Yeah, you,” you knock your foot against his leg without thinking, but you pay no mind, not wanting to draw unnecessary attention to it. “She’s actually the one who put the bug in my ear to come here.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I haven’t been back here since…”

It takes him a moment, but he nods slowly. “Right.”

“Yeah,” you draw your legs closer to you on instinct. “But that was a long time ago. How are you and Haley?”

You don’t expect the way his face falls. You glance down at his left hand. No ring.

“We got a divorce a few years ago, split up about a good year before that,” Aaron explains. “She’s good, last I heard. Remarried already.”

“Wow,” you murmur, not knowing what else to say. “What-- I mean, what happened?” When he hesitates, you backpedal. “Sorry, I shouldn’t even ask, it’s probably a sensitive question.”

“It’s okay,” Aaron chuckles. “I don’t mind talking about it with you.”

That sends a dangerous flutter through your stomach. “Okay. Well I’m all ears.”

“Oh, it’s not a long story, it was just my job,” he shrugs. “I took the unit chief position and she was happy at first. But then, there was a period of time where we had what felt like case after case after case.” He shakes his head. “I was barely home, but I was barely in one state for long, anyway. It was a stressful time. We were everywhere at once.”

“That does sound stressful,” you frown. “Has it slowed down now?”

“Kind of, it has its moments,” he admits. “But being gone so much, it took a toll on her. She wanted to start a family, but said she couldn’t do that if I was never there.”

“But I mean she had to have known how your schedule would be with the new job, right?”

“Yeah,” he says, then shrugs. “It’s been so long now that I stopped trying to understand her thought process.”

“I get that,” you say sincerely. You understand not wanting to waste energy on something like that anymore. Sometimes you just have to give it up and have peace with the fact that you’ll never understand.

“What about you?” He asks suddenly, catching you off guard. “Seeing anyone?” He adds it quietly, like he’s shy.

Aaron Hotchner. Shy. Around you.

“Oh,” you nearly laugh at the prospect. “No. No, I’m not. Do you really think I would be if I was moving back in with my mom?”

He laughs, bringing his coffee to his lips. “You have a point there.”

A comforting silence settles over the two of you after that.

You shouldn’t feel slightly giddy that his and Haley’s relationship didn’t work out in the end. You’re over him by now, anyway. But something about being right has you fighting a smile. You smother the urge, though, knowing he probably doesn’t want to hear anyone, let alone you, say, “I told you so.”

You do feel bad for him, genuinely. Divorce is never easy for anyone, and you hate he went through that. Especially like that. Haley knew his work schedule would change. Why would she act supportive if she knew this in advance? Just sits uneasy with you, that’s all.

Of course, you feel that overprotective-best-friend nature coming back to you.

“What plans do you have now that you’re back?” He asks, keeping the conversation up, but you can tell he’s earnest — which makes you smile.

“Nothing, really. My mom and I are getting a Christmas tree later, but that’s all I have on my schedule.” You pause, giving him another look. “We both know you were my only friend in high school. Who do you think I’m going to see while I’m here?”

“Hopefully a lot of me,” he replies easily, smiling around his coffee.

And for once, you don’t hesitate to reply. “I hope so, too, actually. I didn’t think you were still around here. And I really didn’t expect you to be working for the FBI.”

“This might be presumptuous of me, but what are you doing this weekend?” He asks, quickly adding on, “A good friend of mine is hosting a Christmas party for the team, and I’ve basically been threatened to bring a plus one.”

“Threatened, huh?” You raise an eyebrow.

He nods seriously. “They won’t let me inside without one.”

You gasp comically, keeping up the act. “Well you can’t miss the party!”

“I know,” he sighs, propping his head in his hand.

“Well, I guess I’ll just have to come with,” you say, still deadly serious.

But Aaron’s lips split into a grin the same time yours does. “It’s this Saturday.”

“Lucky for you, I’m free.”

He doesn’t stop grinning. “I can pick you up, if you want.”

“Yeah, I’d love that,” you say. “I should probably give you my number, shouldn’t I?”

“I was going to ask,” he admits.

You roll your eyes playfully. “I figured.”

After exchanging numbers, the two of you return to your idle conversations. Only, they’re less idle than they ever have been before.

He vents about still not understanding how people can be capable of the things he sees. How he knows that everyone is capable of unspeakable things, but it’s how they do it that still makes him stumble sometimes. And you try to sympathize, though you know you can’t. But still you tell him not to try to understand.

“You’re a good man,” you say. “You’re not going to understand it because you’re not like them.”

“Thank you,” he whispers. “I know that, consciously. Sometimes it’s good to hear it from someone else.”

Then he tells you it’s your turn, and again, you don’t feel the need to hesitate.

You tell him how you weren’t planning on moving back here at all. But the job market where you were didn’t...fit you, for some reason. You never felt like you belonged, and so maybe that’s why you wanted to come back here.

Because even though you left this place heartbroken, you still felt like you belonged when you were here. You felt like you belonged when you were with him, but you don’t tell him that.

Something tells you he heard it anyway, though. Being a profiler and all. Which you still don’t quite understand, but you’re sure he’ll have plenty of time to tell you in the coming future.

+++

After an hour or two, you decide it’s time for you to head back home. Partly because you need to make some lunch for yourself, and partly because you’ve watched Aaron dismiss at least three phone calls in the last twenty minutes.

But he didn’t say a word each time, so you know he won’t tell you who it is or if he needs to go. It makes your heart warm at the thought that he wants to spend more time with you, but if it’s his job, then he needs to go.

He walks you to your car and you hug him around his neck, unashamedly taking a deep breath of his cologne when you stretch up to wrap your arms around him. He didn’t wear cologne back in high school. But this one smells good.

You mentally prepare yourself on the way home for the amount of questions your mom is no doubt going to ask.

You’re supposed to be going to pick out a tree with her today, which means you were supposed to be home a little earlier than this, which means your mom probably already knows what happened and you won’t even get a chance to explain yourself.

In the end, your prediction was correct.

“How was your peppermint mocha?” You glance over to the couch and find your mom sitting there, idly reading a book.

The question is as directly indirect as they come. You raise an eyebrow and kick the front door closed (yes, she asked before you even stepped foot inside the house). “It was good,” you reply, shrugging your jacket off your shoulders. “Why?”

“Oh, you enjoyed it for almost two hours, so I was just wondering.” Your mom fights back a grin, but she’s not doing a very good job.

You sigh. “Just go ahead and ask.”

She closes her book. “Alright, fine, I will. How is Aaron?”

There it is.

“He’s good,” you answer rather pointedly, making your way into the living room. “He’s working for the FBI now.”

“Oh, I knew that already.”

You plop down next to her on the couch. “Seriously?”

“Of course!” She cries, like it should be obvious. “Small talk happens when you see someone in the store.”

“Right,” you scoff. “Anyway, thanks for not telling me him and Haley divorced.”

She grimaces.

“Yeah, exactly,” you nod at her expression. “That’s how I felt. I bet it was just awesome of me to ask about how him and his ex-wife are doing.”

“I’m sorry,” your mom says. “It completely slipped my mind. It’s been so long since those two split.”

“Why didn’t you tell me when it happened?”

“Because I didn’t want to bring him up,” she answers sincerely. “You seemed like you had really moved on. I figured it didn’t matter, and I didn’t want to make you start thinking about him again when you had finally gotten over it all.”

“Oh,” you murmur. “Well, thank you, then, but...still. I feel like an idiot.”

“Did he seem angry when you asked?”

“No, the opposite,” you sigh. “He explained what happened and I let him talk about it for a second, but he seems mostly moved on from it.”

“I don’t know how he can be,” your mom scoffs. “She’s already remarried, you know.”

“Yeah, he told me.”

Your mom shakes her head. “I should’ve shook some sense into that boy when he came to say goodbye that day.” Then she pauses, poking your leg. “And I should’ve made you say goodbye to him. I’ll never forgive myself for that.”

“I didn’t wanna talk to him,” you shrug. “We barely had all year, anyway. And one goodbye would not have stopped him from going to college and marrying Haley, you know that.”

“Yeah, I know.” She sighs. “It’s fun to think about, though.”

“Well stop thinking about it,” you mutter. “We are friends and he’s probably seeing someone by now. I don’t even know how long I’ll be here, so.”

Your mom raises her eyebrows. “I never said anything about what you guys are now.”

Damn. Caught. “I know, but I’m just...catching you before you do.”

“Mmm, more like catching yourself.”

“Shut up.”

She lightly hits you with a pillow. “Don’t say that to your mother,” she jokes. “Especially not when I’m right and you know it.”

“Yeah, yeah. Are you ready to pick out a tree?”

“Of course,” she replies. “Just let me find my shoes.”

While she’s getting ready -- because “finding her shoes” really means fixing her hair and makeup and changing outfits a couple times -- you get a text from Aaron.

Aaron: It was nice catching up with you today

You smile and type your reply. Ditto. We should do it again sometime.

He doesn’t reply, but you figure he’s busy at work, anyway. And you’ve got a tree to pick out and decorate, so you’re technically busy, too.

You try not to think too much about it.

+++

And truthfully, you don’t think much about it, until Aaron finally replies. It’s hours later when you’re decorating the freshly-cut Christmas tree in the living room, with Michael Bublé’s Christmas album playing through the stereo speakers. It’s just like when you were younger.

You check your phone and see that it’s Aaron texting you back, but you pocket it before reading the message. You’re busy.

Your mom notices the change on your face. “Everything alright?” She asks as she places a snowflake ornament on one of the smaller branches.

You nod without thinking, hating yourself for even feeling what you’re feeling right now. A glittery red ornament hangs from your index finger as you try to find the right branch to hang it on -- and while your mind wanders all over the place.

“Clearly not,” your mom replies. “But alright.” She turns and reaches into a different box, picking up one of the golden jingle bells that she always hides deep within the tree each year. When you were younger, she’d hide them without you seeing, and then on Christmas Eve you’d have to search the tree for them before you could open one present before going to sleep.

You snort a laugh, always loving her way of getting you to open up: sarcasm. “It’s just Aaron.”

“Aaron?”

“Texting me,” you explain, looking down at the glitter coating your fingertips from the ornaments.

“Aren’t you going to reply?” She asks, grabbing another jingle bell.

“Technically he’s the one replying from earlier today.”

“Okay…”

You sigh. Time to cave. “He invited me to a Christmas party this weekend.”

Your mom doesn’t even try to hide her excitement or her wide grin. “Really? That’s great!”

Is it? You want to ask, but you stop yourself. “Yeah,” you shrug. “I guess so. It’ll be nice to hang out with him more.” You pause, finally hanging the small glittery red ornament on the tree that you’ve been idly holding for the past two minutes. “Apparently a friend of his is hosting it and basically told him he wouldn’t be allowed inside without a plus one.” You chuckle quietly, knowing Aaron had to have rolled his eyes when his friend told him that.

“So it’s...a date, then?”

“What? No,” you shake your head. “No, no. Not a date. He didn’t phrase it that way.”

“Sweetheart, plus one implies date.”

“Who says?”

“Everyone!” Your mom laughs. “Bringing a plus one to a wedding is usually a casual date, if not bringing your significant other along.”

“This isn’t a wedding, it’s just a Christmas get together.”

“Same difference.”

“Well, I think you’re doing that thing again where you try to plant seeds in my brain for things that are unnecessary,” you raise an eyebrow at her when she avoids eye contact, so you know you’ve caught her red-handed. “All that aside,” you sigh. “I’m over him. It’s been so long. If something was going to happen, it would have already.”

“Whatever you say,” she shrugs indifferently, grabbing the final jingle bell to hide in the top of the tree. For a brief moment, you wish you hadn’t been watching where she hid them, so you could do the search on Christmas Eve one more time.

+++

You bump into Aaron one more time, two days later, at the same coffee shop.

“Back for more?” He teases as he slides into the seat across from you, another black coffee in his right hand.

You’re sitting at the table the two of you call home with yet another peppermint mocha sitting in front of you and your laptop. More job hunting is the task for today, even though you’re ready to give up and just pick it back up after the New Year. It’s not like your mom is making you pay rent, and you have enough in savings to help with groceries (without her knowledge, of course, because she refuses to let you pay for anything) and buy your own coffees. But, you decided to give it one last go today.

That is, until Aaron slid into the seat in front of you. Now, you close your laptop and place it back in your bag. “Just needed some fuel for more job hunting,” you grin. “What are you doing here?”

“I took off for lunch for once and thought I might find you here.”

“Oh?” You raise your eyebrows. “Were you seeking me out, Hotchner?”

“Maybe a little,” he admits with a shy smile. “Are you still good for tomorrow?”

“As long as you are,” you nod. “What time?”

“I’ll pick you up at five, if that’s good?”

“Perfect,” you smile. “Are you ready to introduce me to your friends?”

“Depends,” he exhales exasperatedly. “Are you ready to meet them?”

“They can’t be that bad.”

“They might be. If you aren’t used to them.” He pauses. “They don’t know you’re coming, by the way.”

“What?” You almost laugh. “Why not?”

“I told them I was bringing someone, but I didn’t feel like hearing it all week about who I was bringing.” He pauses again, like he’s holding something back, and then he lets it out. “They know all about you.”

You blink. “They do?”

“Yeah,” he smiles gently. “I talk about you all the time.”

“No,” you shake your head. “No you don’t. There’s no way.”

“You’ll believe it tomorrow,” he chuckles. “I’m sure they’ll try to embarrass me.”

“I-I mean...what do you even say about me?”

He shrugs. “That you were my best friend in high school and...that I missed you and wondered what you were up to these days, and how we used to hang out here.” He looks around the shop, then back to you and your bewildered expression. “What?” He laughs. “You didn’t talk to your friends about me?”

“No, I did,” you laugh quietly. But I said different things. And most of the time I was crying because I missed you, especially my first year of college when my roommate tried to get me to go on a double date with her boyfriend and his roommate, but I refused and had to confess that I wasn’t over you and that you broke my heart, and I was such a mess that she brought ice cream and chocolate back after their date.

But you don’t say any of that. Obviously.

“I just didn’t expect you to even...think about me, I guess,” you finally spit out, still shaking your head. “I mean...we haven’t talked since high school, I figured you’d forgotten or moved on, at least. Especially since you had Haley.”

Aaron’s expression softens and turns sad, quickly. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “I didn’t know you thought any of that.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” you wave his worry away. “It’s years ago. Water under the bridge.”

“Yeah,” he agrees. Then, he says, “Haley was jealous of you, you know.”

You immediately look up from your mocha, your eyes wide in shock. “She was what?”

“Oh yeah,” Aaron laughs. “Devastatingly jealous of you. She swore we were dating or that I was in love with you or something.”

Or something. “Wow,” you chuckle, trying to mask your hurt as much as possible. “Why did she even think that?”

You know why. You know exactly why. Because before her, you and Aaron were attached at the hip. You sat together during lunch, walked each other home, hung out at the coffee shop, went to school functions together (well, you’d actually go with a big group, but you two always ended up together anyway), and so on and so forth. Anyone would’ve been an idiot to not assume you two were dating.

“We were so close,” he shrugs. “She said she was so surprised when I asked her to be my girlfriend because she swore I was dating you. She actually asked me that, when I gave her the flowers. She said, “What about Y/N?” And I said, “Y/N? She’s just my best friend.” And she didn’t believe me.”

“That’s so crazy,” you say, but you’re really thinking back to that day you and Aaron had decided to meet up here and hang out after so long. When Haley crashed the hangout. When she locked eyes with you and smirked before pulling him back in for another kiss.

She was jealous. She was jealous and she knew exactly what she was doing that day.

Aaron’s phone starts ringing and he sighs heavily, pulling it out. He almost declines it, but then stops himself. “It’s the boss,” he says. “My boss. I’ve gotta take this. I’ll text you later?”

“Sure,” you smile, knowing he might forget or get too busy to think about it. But that’s okay. “Good luck with the phone call.”

“Thanks,” he chuckles. “I’ll need it.” And then he brings his phone up to his ear. “Agent Hotchner,” he says, and you hate that you find it so hot.

+++

You almost cancel with Aaron a dozen times before 2p.m.

You blame the conversation the two of you had yesterday. For some reason, the thought of Haley being jealous of you had never crossed your mind. Because to you, it was so obviously the other way around. Of course, you weren’t vocal about your jealousy, but you were certain she knew. Not that it was the other way around.

Old feelings have already resurfaced, which is bad enough, but the talk about Haley and about how Aaron’s friends know all about you made things worse. Especially the latter.

Why would he talk about you so much if the two of you hadn’t spoken in years? Not even years, but like an entire decade. Why would he still talk about you and think about you that much?

You have dwelled over those questions since he left the coffee shop yesterday.

But now, you have no idea what to wear, and Aaron will be here any minute. You’re assuming the attire is casual, not fancy, since it’s just a get together with his friends -- who all happen to be his team of agents. FBI agents. Because he’s just casually the Unit Chief of the BAU.

It still baffles you. He wanted to be a lawyer. Not in the FBI. God.

He’s still your Aaron. That’s what shocks you the most. He’s experienced law school, marriage, practicing law, working for the FBI, becoming a Unit Chief, divorce, and yet he’s still the Aaron Hotchner you were best friends with in high school.

You wonder if you’re still the girl he was best friends with in high school. Or if you’ve changed so drastically that he doesn’t see you that way anymore.

You take a deep breath, going back to digging through the many boxes of clothes that you have yet to unpack. You need a sweater or something. That’s safe enough, right? It’s too cold for a dress, and frankly, you’re not in the mood for wearing one, anyway.

Finally, you find the sweater you were looking for. You tug it over your head, figuring your jeans are fine enough. You’ll wear some low heels to make it look like you put in a little more effort.

Your quick thinking is to your benefit because the doorbell rings almost as soon as you’re done doing the clasp on your second heel.

But because your mom is quicker than you, she’s already opened the door and let Aaron in before you can make it downstairs. And by the time you are coming down the stairs, Aaron is sitting on the couch with your mom, making idle conversation.

“Hey,” you smile at him, resisting the urge to glare at your mom. “Ready?”

“If you are,” he nods, standing to his feet.

When he turns, you shoot your mom a look. “We’ll be back later.”

“You’re not in high school,” your mom laughs. “You two have fun for as long as you like.”

“I know,” you say. “But I also know you’ll wait up until I get back.”

“And you can’t stop me,” she replies pointedly.

Aaron laughs at the two of you, your banter just as he remembers from all those years ago. Neither of you have changed one bit.

After a final moment of bickering, you bid your mom goodbye and leave with Aaron.

In the car, you ask, “Have you told them about me coming yet?”

From the driver’s seat, he shakes his head. “No, so prepare yourself for a lot of questions.”

“I think you’re the one that’ll be in hot water, but alright,” you chuckle. “I can hear them now. ‘Why didn’t you tell us you were bringing her!’”

He laughs loudly. “That’s not a bad impression, actually.”

“Why, thank you,” you smirk. “It’s a hidden talent of mine.”

“Oh, really?”

“Mhm.”

The two of you share a grin as he keeps driving.

+++

After some time -- long enough that you were beginning to wonder where he’s taking you -- Aaron finally turns into a subdivision. But it’s still not what you were expecting.

You assumed FBI agents must make good money, but not this good. This is a mansion. It’s massive. There has to be at least six bedrooms in there, maybe more.

“Is your friend a millionaire or something?”

Aaron chuckles, “Maybe. Probably. Maybe more.”

“More?” Your eyes widen. “Wow.” And then Aaron pulls into the driveway. “Wow.”

He puts the car in park and says, “Try not to look too surprised. Dave won’t shut up about the house if you get him started.”

“What if I want to hear everything?” You ask, scrambling out of the car to look up at the house. “Jesus Christ.” Then you whip your head around to look at Aaron exasperatedly. “Does your house look like this?”

“No, no,” he shakes his head. “No. This is too big. Dave’s crazy for buying it.”

“He’s definitely insane,” you nod. “I mean, what do you even need a house this big for?”

Aaron shrugs. “Christmas parties, I guess.” He pauses, holding out his arm for you. “Ready to face the lions?”

You roll your eyes through a laugh, loosely holding onto his arm. “Quit being so dramatic. I bet it’ll be just fine.”

“Let’s hope so,” Aaron replies. Because truthfully, he is a little worried that they might scare you off. They have a habit of doing that.

The two of you walk up to the front door, and you try your best to act like you’ve been in the general vicinity of a house this big before. Dave must be a really good friend of Aaron’s, because instead of knocking or ringing the doorbell, Aaron twists the doorknob and walks right in with you on his arm.

“Dave’s making pasta,” Aaron whispers, smelling the air. He shuts the door gently, wanting to surprise the team as much as possible.

You sniff the air, too, smiling happily. “Smells really good. Is that carbonara?”

“Good nose,” a voice says from the kitchen.

“That’s Dave,” Aaron chuckles, walking you down the hall toward the smell.

The team’s eyes all widen dramatically and comically when Aaron Hotchner steps inside the kitchen with a woman on his arm.

“Well, hello,” one of them says, sliding off the stool at the counter to saunter over to you. He’s all suave and swagger.

“Derek Morgan, this is Y/N,” Aaron introduces you quickly, knowing the reaction your name will get.

“Hold up,” Derek pauses, glancing between you and Aaron. “Y/N? As in the Y/N?”

“I don’t know about being the Y/N, but that is my name,” you laugh. “Nice to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” Derek says, a hand over his heart to add to the sincerity. “Where have you been hiding all this time?”

“Getting a doctorate,” you shrug, only now realizing that your hand is still holding onto Aaron’s arm, but he doesn’t seem fazed by it either, so you don’t move.

“Oh, alright,” Derek chuckles. “Hey Reid, we’ve got another doctor here.”

The man in question, Reid, looks up from the book he was reading with furrowed eyebrows. “Hi.” He waves.

“Hey,” you wave back. “What’re you reading?”

“War and Peace. In Russian, though.”

“In-- Wow, okay.”

“He’s a genius,” Morgan explains.

“I see that,” you chuckle.

Aaron finishes the introductions for you. “That’s JJ, handles the press for us because none of us want to do it.”

“He’s not wrong,” JJ replies with a laugh. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“You too,” you smile.

“You met Reid, his first name’s Spencer,” Aaron supplies, and Reid is too far gone in the book again to notice. “This is Emily Prentiss.”

“And I have been dying to meet you,” Emily says. “You are exactly how he described.”

“In a good way, I hope?” You laugh nervously.

She nods. “Definitely.”

Aaron points to the other woman at the counter. She’s dressed in all sorts of crazy colors with glasses that match her outfit. And before he can introduce her, she says, “I’m Penelope Garcia, technology extraordinaire. I keep them out of trouble.”

“And we love you for it,” Derek adds.

“And this is Dave,” Aaron finishes.

“It is very nice to finally meet you,” Dave says, and actually shakes your hand. “Do you know how to make carbonara?”

“Yes, actually,” you say, earning a surprised look from Aaron. “I went through a phase when I was younger, wanting to make anything and everything that sounded good, so I’ve made this a few times. My mom loves it.”

Dave loves the sound of that. “Would you like to help me?”

You practically light up inside and out. “Seriously? I’d love to!”

“Oh, here we go,” Derek groans. “He’s roped her in.”

You ignore him, slipping away from Aaron to grab the other apron off the hook by the entrance to the kitchen. You slide your head through the loop and tie it at the back in a matter of seconds, too excited to contain it.

“I almost went to culinary school, you know,” you say to no one in particular, but Aaron is listening, and so is Dave.

“Why didn’t you?” Aaron asks.

You shrug. “Didn’t seem practical.” Which isn’t the real answer at all. The real answer is you got your heart broken and needed to do a complete 180 in life, so you did. Culinary school was out. Getting a doctorate was in. You turn on the water in the sink and begin washing your hands. “What do you need me to do?”

For the next hour, you help Dave make the carbonara, occasionally answering any questions Aaron’s friends have for you.

Aaron pours you a glass of wine and sits at the counter, watching you cook. You look more at peace than he’s seen you since a few days ago when he first bumped into you again.

You catch him looking at you more than a handful of times. It feels good. Spending the evening with his friends, his team, with him. You’ve missed spending time with him more than anything else.

Dave serves up the carbonara, telling you to sit down since you helped so much already. You don’t make him ask twice.

+++

After dinner, everyone moves into the living room, scattering on the various couches and chairs. Reid has finished reading War and Peace, so the book sits discarded on one of the coffee tables.

You take the spot on the couch next to Aaron, careful not to spill your wine. Penelope sits on the other side of you, with Derek on her other side, which all but forces you to move closer to Aaron, and something about the look on Penelope’s face tells you it was done on purpose.

You’re not exactly complaining, though. With a full stomach and a fresh glass of wine, Aaron’s presence is even warmer than before. You pay no mind when he shifts his left arm, stretching it over the back of the couch and allowing you to scoot closer, your legs pressed against each other’s.

The conversation continues, and somehow the subject of relationships is brought up.

“Yeah, why was I the only one asked to bring someone?” Aaron asks. “I’d like to see all of you find a last minute date.”

Another warm rush goes through your body at the word date. This is a date. Alright then.

“I think you did just fine,” Dave says, nodding to you. “Don’t you?”

You shrug, not sure of what to make of it. “I’m having fun, so I guess so.”

“See?” Dave gives Aaron a look. “You did fine.”

Aaron gives his friend a tired glare. “Only because she happened to be back from getting her degrees. Otherwise, I would’ve been stuck.”

“Nah, man, you could’ve called Beth.”

You feel Aaron tense next to you, but you aren’t sure if he tensed up or if you did. Maybe both. Probably both. You weren’t aware there was someone else.

“Who’s Beth?” You ask as casually as possible, ignoring the heated glares Penelope, JJ, and Emily alike are sending Derek. Seriously, Derek would be dead three times over right now if looks could be deadly.

Aaron shrugs before answering you. “Her and I dated briefly last year.”

You nod slowly, trying not to seem hurt or upset or anything by this because it’s ridiculous of you to be fighting back tears, but you can’t help it.

It’s high school, goddamnit, it’s fucking high school all over again.

The topic of conversation shifts thanks to Reid being the endless supplier of random facts. One question about Russian from Emily and he’s taking over, washing the awkwardness away in two languages.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t work as well for you as it does for everyone else.

You set your wine glass down on the table and tell Penelope you’re going to use the bathroom. You have no clue where it is, but she doesn’t know that.

Aaron does. And Aaron hears the tone of voice you use.

He waits until you’re down the hall before he stands to follow you, foregoing any explanation to his friends. They already know what he’s doing.

Aaron’s suspicions are correct when he hears the front door close and sees your coat no longer hanging next to his on the hook by the door. He grabs his and only gets one arm through a sleeve before he’s opening the door, eyes searching the premises for you.

Thankfully, he finds you after two seconds, and his racing heart slows a little. You’re standing by the reindeer lights on Dave’s front lawn. Your coat is only hanging on your shoulders, something you’ve always done since high school when you were upset.

“It feels more like a blanket,” you had told him one day. “Blankets are more comforting than jackets.”

He doesn’t see the difference, but you do, and that was enough for him.

He has both arms through the sleeves by the time he’s next to you. He gently touches your arm to get your attention, adding a soft, “Hey,” for good measure.

You turn your head at the sound, having already known he was coming because you heard the front door open. In the back of your mind, you had wanted him to follow you out here, but now that he’s done it, you aren’t so sure this is what you wanted.

You wanted to ignore the feeling. Get it to disappear on its own. Survive the night, then never talk to him again. You were heartbroken, but it was better when you weren’t speaking to him. At least, that’s what you tell yourself.

“I’m sorry,” Aaron says softly. “Beth and I haven’t spoken since our last date a year ago. It was only three dates. We weren’t serious at all.” He pauses. “I have no idea why Derek said that. He doesn’t think before he speaks sometimes.”

You nod, not having it in you to laugh at Aaron’s small jab, even though he is entirely correct. Derek is a quick thinker with a sharp wit, but you can see how it might backfire sometimes. Like tonight.

You believe Aaron, you really do. But it’s so hard. “Did you love her?”

Aaron is stunned for a moment, but says, “No. I don’t think I did.”

“Okay.” You shake your head, looking down at the grass. “I’m just trying to figure out why Derek would’ve brought her up if...if you guys dated so briefly.”

Aaron sighs. “I don’t know.”

“And is this a date?” You blurt, finally finding the courage to get that one out. “Because if it is, I…I don’t know.”

“Don’t know what?”

You shake your head again, trying to find the right words, but they always seem out of reach. “Just...tell me this won’t be like high school.”

This time Aaron is too stunned to form a real answer. “What?”

“Please,” you sound like you’re about to cry and you feel so pathetic that you wish you had never agreed to come tonight. But you’re here anyway. “I was in love with you then, and I’m still in love with you now, but I can’t do that again. So if this is a just friends thing and always will be, I need you to tell me before I hurt myself all over again.”

Aaron can’t believe his ears. He swears he heard you wrong. He must have. “You were in love with me in high school, too?”

“Yes-- Wait, too? What do you mean too?” Now you’re looking at him, eyes wide in confusion, shock, every emotion possible. “Too?”

“I was in love with you, Y/N,” he chuckles, reaching for your hands. “I thought you just saw me as an older brother. That’s why I never...said anything.”

“What?” You breathe, letting him thread his fingers through yours. “Are you serious? You better not be pulling my leg, Hotchner. Don’t do that to me.” You tug on his hands for emphasis, giving him a stern look.

“I’m not joking,” he says, taking a step closer. “I wouldn’t joke about this.”

“Oh my god,” you say, disbelief a powerful thief of words. “I can’t believe… So you went after Haley because…”

“Because I heard from one of her friends that she had a crush on me,” he admits. “I did love her, but not as much as I loved you. Never as much as I loved you.”

You don’t know what else to do or say. He looks so beautiful in this light that it hurts, and now he’s saying words you never thought you’d ever hear.

“Do you forgive me?” He asks. “For breaking your heart?”

“Only if you forgive me for breaking yours,” you whisper.

He shakes his head. “I broke my own. I should’ve told you how I felt.” He pauses. “I even talked to you about Haley all the time. Is that why you didn’t say goodbye to me?”

You nod. “It sounds so stupid now, but I was so hurt.”

“I’m an idiot,” he laughs. “I’m the dumbest fool to ever walk the Earth.”

“We both are,” you correct him, taking a step closer. It’s cold out here, but he’s warm. He’s always been so warm. Like home.

And you-- you’ve always been who Aaron thinks of when he thinks about being happy. It’s always been you. A moment like this, and a thousand others. He wants them all. And to think, you do too.

His lips meet yours in a long-awaited kiss, cold noses bumping against one another, his warm hands holding your face, your chilled fingers finding their home on his neck, stealing his warmth.

From the window, the team watches, and Emily exchanges money with Derek.

[misssophiachase]

The Kissing Booth 

So, this is a continuation of a Kissing Booth movie/Klaroline fusion sneak peek I posted for a nonnie that requested it.  I think Erika @eriberry89 has an awesome KC edit of the movie poster which you should all check out : ) Hope you like my take. Words in italics (only in the first part) are lines from the move, the rest is mine. 

I’m Kissing You

Wednesday:

“Want a ride?’

“Sure, if it’s not as dirty as it sounds.” The impatient growl he emitted told her she was playing with his last nerve. Exactly how she’d intended it to be interpreted. “So, where’s your car then?”

Caroline managed to look past his chiseled jaw and blonde curls only to see him gesturing towards a motorcycle in the parking lot.

“What?” She growled, realising just what a cliché her best friend’s brother really was and how she wasn’t going to have any part in it, even if he was built like an Adonis with dimples. “I’m not going to get on that thing like one of your make-out girls.”

“They don’t all make out with me,” he promised. Caroline was unimpressed, arms crossed over her chest by way of reply. “Okay, maybe 95 percent.”

No matter how many times Caroline had drooled over Klaus Mikaelson and his flawless abs and sexy stubble, she still couldn’t believe just how predictable he was. Soccer captain, Student Body President and, according to reliable sources, he’d slept with most of the girls in school. 

“I’m going to run instead,” she shot back, placing the earphone buds in place. 

“That’s over five miles, Forbes.”

“Well, maybe you earn your calories with the latest flavour of the month but I’ll do mine purely.”

“Jealous?” He teased. 

“Of catching every STD known to man? Not really,” she ran away before he could argue. The last thing she needed was this idiot flashing his baby blues in her direction and convincing her he wasn’t a man whore given the overwhelming evidence that he, in fact, was.

As she made her way out of the car park, Caroline knew rule 9, amongst others, between her and best friend Kol was still completely valid. It was one of many but for some reason it was the most important especially given recent events. His older brother Klaus was totally off limits. 

“Don’t wind up grinding coochies with my brother or I’ll literally never talk to you again.”

His words were equal parts weird, cringe worthy (given he was English she wasn’t comfortable with him uttering the word coochies in the first place but with that accent it was unforgivable) and also telling given their precarious sibling relationship. It was no secret Kol had grown up in the shadow of his brother and Caroline wanted nothing more than to protect him.

She repeatedly told herself it would be easy enough to ignore him for one more year before he left for college, she hoped so anyway.

“Caroline?” She was broken out of her trance by her math teacher, Mr James. attempting to flag her down. He was hard to miss what with those high-waisted brown pants and suspenders. She hated to stereotype but he was the epitome of a nerdy, math teacher.

“Mr James,” she greeted, him coming to a complete stop and removing her earbuds. “What can I do for you?”

“I need you to tutor somebody, it’s their senior year and important we bring up his grades before graduation. I figured you’d be the best person for the job, Caroline.” 

While only a Junior, Caroline was in his advance math class and one of his best students. To say she was an over-achiever in every way was an understatement. She mentally ran through her myriad of commitments; debate captain, tennis captain, drama club, mathlete.  There was no way she’d have time but she also didn’t want to let her teacher down.

“I’m kind of busy Mr James….”

“Glad you agreed because I’ve already set it up,” he interrupted, she fought the urge to roll her eyes. Of course he had. It wasn’t like she had anything better to do with her time than tutor some undeserving jock who needed to lift his marks in order to nab a last minute, athletic scholarship. “He’ll meet you in the library tomorrow after school.”

He was gone before Caroline could mention she already had plans. She’d promised to meet Kol at the mall. He was trying to impress Bonnie Bennett and as far as Caroline was concerned he needed all the help he could get.  The last time they met things hadn’t exactly gone to plan. As she set off home, her mind re-winded three months.

The Kissing Booth was to blame.

For everything.

3 months earlier….

“This idea is genius!” Kol exclaimed, admiring the booth they’d erected for the charity fundraiser. School was almost over for the year and Caroline was chair of the committee and had roped Kol into helping. What she wasn’t expecting was him to be so enthusiastic, and then she heard his idea.  

“Of course you’d say that,” she grumbled, wrestling with a stool. “You get to make-out with half the school under the guise of raising money for charity. And you know a little help wouldn’t go astray,” she huffed, dropping the stool and watching it skid across the floor.

“I thought you moved past these tantrums after fifth grade, darling?”

“And I thought you grew a brain but obviously not,” she growled, lifting up the stool and placing it in position. “How is it that I get stuck with all the work meanwhile you swan around the school doing ‘publicity’,” she used air quotes for extra effect.

“Because it’s what we do bestie,” he smiled cheekily. “I do all the public relations and you work behind the scenes...”

“Don’t you mean do all the heavy lifting?”

“You know I can’t do that, what if I were to break a nail?”

“Or get punched in the face,” she threatened, raising her eyebrows.

“I know you have your reservations but this kissing booth is going to raise more money than the committee has ever made. You really should be thanking me for this idea, Forbes.”

“Says the guy who insisted I provide my services for his ill thought out plan?” She scoffed. “Unlike others, I don’t go around kissing randoms.”

“I told you, I asked Klaus but he turned me down,” Kol shot back. “And we need all the help we can get.”

“Wow, the only time he hasn’t been a complete whore, who would have thought?” She muttered sarcastically.

They’d practically grown up together and as annoying as Klaus was, Caroline was beginning to realise the most frustrating part was just how gorgeous he’d turned out to be. Like nobody should look that good in a henley. She sometimes let her mind wander as to what he’d look like naked and in her imagination it was just as good, if not better.

She felt her cheeks flush, hoping Kol hadn’t noticed, but given his lack of attention span Caroline was sure she was safe. What she wasn’t safe from was the events that played out three hours later.

The kiss.

The mind blowing kiss that almost knocked her off her feet.

It was just that good.

She was blindfolded of course, madly trying to pretend the last fifteen minutes of sloppy excuses for kissing hadn’t happened and then he swooped in and suddenly her overactive brain was completely still. Rather than the usual unnecessary thoughts that infiltrated her mind, there was absolutely nothing except the tingling sensation taking over her skin that his lips were causing.

She could hear loud, wolf whistles around her causing her to break out of her kiss induced haze whoever this person was had caused. She pushed on his chest, noticing just how toned it felt beneath her palms. Pulling off the blindfolded hastily, Caroline was met with a mixture of disbelief and lust.

“You!”

“Well, good evening to you too,” he smirked, tracing his finger along his crimson, lower lip teasingly. “Is this why guys don’t want to kiss you?”

“Excuse me?” Caroline bristled.

“Well, everyone likes a little hard to get sometimes but being outright rude after a kiss usually ruins the mood, if you know what I mean?”

“When can I kiss him?” She’d know that whiny voice anywhere, it was no secret that Hayley Marshall was trying to get her hooks into Klaus.

“Get in line, sweetheart,” Caroline shot back, her mouth moving much faster than her brain. His smirk only grew wider and one of those ridiculous dimples decided to make an impromptu appearance.

She took the opportunity to pull him behind the curtain and away from the prying eyes of half the school. She was at least relieved that Kol had taken a break after kissing his crush Bonnie Bennett. She’d been surprised but happy they’d finally connected, or so she thought.

“If you wanted me alone all you needed to do was ask, love,” he grinned.

“You ass.”

“Stop with all the compliments, you know how they make me blush.”

“Urgh,” she growled, madly trying to maintain her anger and composure after that kiss. 

Bastard. 

“Why do you have to be such a…”

“An ass?” She glowered in his direction. “You know, just a guess. Anyway, I don’t understand why you’re so upset. Kol practically begged me to be on this stupid kissing booth. Do it for charity, I seem to recall him saying. If I’d known how precious you were going to get I wouldn’t have bothered.”

“And you said no and then turn up anyway, what’s that about, Mikaelson?”

“I was doing it for charity,” he mused.

“Suddenly the man whore decides to get a conscience.”

“What can I say, your arguments were very convincing,” he murmured, moving closer and cupping her left cheek unexpectedly. She jumped back, determined not to fall into a Klaus Mikaelson rabbit hole. He was her best friend’s brother and totally off limits and, as she liked to reiterate, a complete man whore.  

“Hands off, buddy,” she muttered.

“I’ll pay for another kiss, I promise.” She knew Klaus Mikaelson; after all they’d practically grown up together, but this look was something she’d never seen before. Those dark, blue eyes were filled with something else. Was Klaus Mikaelson showing some vulnerability amongst all his usual arrogance?

“You realise the line is huge and no one’s out there to collect any money…” Kol accused, coming to a halt at the sight of his brother and best friend staring each other down. “What’s going on here?”

“Uh, nothing,” Caroline lied, tearing her eyes from his and plastering on a fake smile. “Klaus was just leaving.”

“I didn’t realise he was even coming in the first place,” Kol offered. “But if you’d like to stay I know Hayley Marshall would pay double for a kiss, big brother.”

“Contrary to popular belief,” Klaus murmured, “I don’t kiss just anyone.” 

Caroline felt her breath hitch in her throat, surely it was just another line? It had to be, he was Klaus Mikaelson after all. It was at that moment she decided to put it behind her and pretend it never happened.

Thursday:

The last thing Caroline felt like doing was tutoring some jock who had no interest in learning and only wanted to get to college to attend frat parties and have jello shots off the stomach of some cheerleader. Okay, maybe she’d had a little too much time to think about it. 

She made her way to the library from the parking lot remembering Klaus and his mid-life crisis motorcycle on full display. Okay, he was only eighteen but it was never too early.  

She hadn’t even seen him today but he had this annoying habit of getting under her skin. She rationalised it by blaming it on his surprise attack by kiss in June. 

It had been a tightly kept secret, Caroline glad it hadn’t made it around the gossip circles and to her unsuspecting best friend. She put it down to the fact people thought it was some kind of staged stunt for publicity and that Kol had been too busy licking his wounds after Bonnie had rejected him. Apparently what she’d considered charity he didn’t. 

“Afternoon,” he smiled upon her arrival. She stopped dead in her tracks, unsure of what to do. 

“I didn’t think you knew where the library was, Mikaelson, don’t want to ruin your reputation or anything.”

“You’re hilarious,” he drawled, gesturing to the math book on the table. “Ready to study?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Mr James said you were going to be tutoring me.” She sat down with a thud across from him, too surprised to make a lady like landing. What the hell was going on? From what Caroline knew, Klaus Mikaelson, despite his womanising ways, had a 4.0 GPA. He was the last person who needed tutoring. 

“Is this some kind of joke, is there a hidden camera?” She asked, looking around the room ominously.  

“I need help with math,” he implored. His usual cocky expression replaced by something decidedly more desperate. 

“You’re tenth in the class, I’d hardly call that a problem.”

“And you’re first,” he reiterated. “It wouldn’t hurt to get some pointers to improve my marks this year.”

“Oh I know what this is,” she sighed, finally realising his game. “You’re doing this to mess with Kol and before I know it you’ll produce a cracker jack bracelet and say ‘don’t say i never gave you anything’ I know your game, Mikaelson.”

“Why do i feel like you went to another planet just then?”

“It’s classic One Tree Hill, you know Nathan and Hayley? She's tutor girl and he’s the star basketball player.”

“Basketball, really? You and I both know football is the only sport that matters, Forbes.”

“Oh god, are we back here again?” She groaned, hitting her head on the wooden table. “It’s called soccer.”

“Says the American,” he shot back. “Now, are we here for tutoring or not?”

Caroline was torn, he looked so cute pleading with her but every fibre of her being was screaming that he had ulterior motives. “One session, that’s all.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He grinned, flashing another dimple. She shook her head not sure what she’d gotten herself into.  

Saturday:

“I’m pretty sure we’ve bought more than enough polo shirts, Kol,” Caroline groaned, desperate for a seat after all the shopping he’d put her through. “Bonnie will like you no matter what.”

“She kissed me at the fundraiser then pretended it never happened.”

“She thought it was for charity, not your chance to get in her pants.” She growled, finally finding a bench and making it her own. 

“Nice to see my best friend is on my side,” he murmured, taking a seat beside her. “I swear ever since the fundraiser you’ve been walking around like a zombie.”

“Did you ever think that this incessant, stalkerish behaviour towards Bonnie is maybe killing my resolve?”

“I thought we already had the discussion about you not being able to fall in love with me, darling?” She didn’t hesitate, just hit him in the stomach for extra measure. “Ouch, Forbes.”

“You wish.”

“Maybe I do given you have a ridiculously unhealthy crush on my brother.” She couldn’t speak mainly because he was correct but given rule 9 it was totally out of the question. “And don’t get me started on this whole bogus tutoring arrangement.”

“How do you know about that?”

“I know about everything, including your kissing booth indiscretion,” he chirped. “I just wish you’d told me about it yourself.”

“Rule 9...”

“Oh please, we were like seven,” he reassured her. “If you like my unsavoury brother, although I’ll never understand why, then who am I to get in the way?”

“Am I interrupting something?” They both looked up into the brown eyes of Bonnie Bennett. 

“Nothing at all,” Caroline bluffed, “In fact, I was actually about to leave, you know there’s only so many polo shirts I can be around at once.” She made her retreat mouthing ‘you owe me’ in his direction. What she couldn’t resolve was just how she felt about Klaus Mikaelson.

Monday:

“Looks like I was right,” she drawled, throwing the graded paper at his feet. 

Kol had used the term bogus and it wasn’t until she’d read the evidence that Caroline was so angry she’d infiltrated soccer practice to throw his test on the pitch. 

“Don’t ever bother me again.” 

She stomped off, ignoring the curious glances and comments levelled in her direction from his teammates. She was almost to the parking lot when he caught up, his hand grazing hers in a desperate attempt to slow her fast pace. 

“Woah, woah, woah,” he said, placing himself in front of her path. “Care to explain, love?”

“You scored a 65 on the practice test and I have better things to do with my time than tutor people that don’t need it,” she growled. 

“Last time I checked 65 isn’t that great,” Klaus offered. 

“All of the work was right but funnily enough the answers didn’t reflect it. You know I take tutoring seriously and there are people that genuinely need my help. This is just another example of Klaus Mikaelson trying to throw his weight around because he’s the king of the school.”

“It wasn’t like that.”

“So, what was it like then?” She asked, hands on hips, not realising just how close he was. 

“I love you, I think I always have.” His gaze was now downcast. “And I just wanted to be near you again even if it was the wrong thing to do. After the charity fundraiser you wouldn’t even look in my direction.”

“Says the guy who swooped in out of nowhere and kissed me in front of the whole school.”

“I was impulsive, yes, but I couldn’t help myself. I’ve been wanting to kiss you since I was sixteen. You’d basically grown up in our house and I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“Me and every other girl,” Caroline murmured. 

“You’re still going to believe the rumours?” He asked pointedly. “As much as you want to believe I’m some man whore, I’m not, Caroline.” 

“But...”

“But nothing,” he murmured, moving closer and lacing his arms around her neck. “It’s only ever been you, Forbes.”

“Is this the part where we kiss?” She whispered, her nose grazing his. 

“I wouldn’t want it to be a movie cliche or anything,” he grinned, pulling her closer into his embrace. 

“I would,” she insisted, placing her lips on his and relishing in the moment. It was like all the stress from the last few months was melting away and Caroline could finally be happy and not care who was watching. 

And to think it all happened because of a kissing booth. 

[petestarebanks]

this turned into a lot of talking i’m drunk sorry

since i love talking about myself and i’m working on finishing all the random cider/alcoholic drinks in my fridge i appeciate @chitown-sounder for tagging me in this

1) How tall are you? I’m 5′7″ and I don’t have anything else to say about that. 

2) What Color And Style Is Your Hair? My hair is medium brown which is v boring I want to dye it like daaaaaaark brown in an attempt to match my fingernails and my wardrobe which are both slowly entering the shadow realm until I can finally take my rightful place as an all powerful witch of darkness where I belong. Lately I’ve been working on growing my hair back out, right now it’s just below the middle of my back bc a year and a half ago I decided I wanted to go back to the bob I had in senior year of high school. Generally speaking my hair is an awful mess.

3) What Color Are Your Eyes? Depending on the day/weather/my mood/the color of my shirt it varies between blues and greens and greys. I wish I was constantly crying so they could be green always. 

4) Do You Wear Glasses? Yeah and tbh people always ask me why I don’t wear contacts and like why the fuck would I? When I got glasses in the 10th grade (After 3 years of staring at a computer screen bc I got obsessed with writing and never wanted to leave the house I developed near-sightedness like a fuckin dope) I was hype af they somehow made my face look less round imo like honestly my glasses make me look older and less pudgy and I fuck with that shit. I, like my dawg Cody, also am getting new glasses in like a week or so (They’ll be in on the 11th and I’m reeeeady) and I got 2 pairs, one of which is the same rectangle shape I’ve always had and the other one is more fahionable and maybe I’ll like them??? I better bc they were expensive but they were literally buy one get one free so....... Idk they’re more round shaped I can’t wait to put new accessories on my face

5) Do You Have Braces? I never did and it’s funny I always had a fucked up dental situation ok my front 4 teeth on the top were shaped like |_|_/\_||_| it wasn’t a gap or anything my teeth were just angled like that??? Apparently there was a bone in my gum where it shouldn’t have been and it was keeping my teeth from growing right and so when I was like 8 they did a removal of all 4 teeth like - ya girl was in the third grade missing my 4 front teeth??????????? Embarrassing anyway they took out the teeth and when I went back a few months later to get the bone out there was literally no bone there? There was no explanation for it it just wasn’t there and my teeth grew back in perfect. My teeth aren’t perfect by any means like I have a severe overbite and my lower row has a small gap in the front and also I had a fuckin tooth that grew in the middle of the roof of my fucking mouth????????????????????????? Teeth are so weird anyway that tooth got taken out and I’m just here living with a semi-ok mouf now

6) What Is Your Fashion Sense? Whatever I feel like wearing when I get out of bed 15 mins before I’m supposed to be at work lmao whatever takes the least effort and still looks put together enough. There’s a lot of black and particularly black leggings bc they almost pass for dress pants which works for my job. Also a lot of camisoles paired with shawl/overshirt things idk what they’re called. And jean shorts whenever I’m not at work.

7) Do You Have Any Siblings? I have 4 step sibs and 3 sisters - my sister Candace is 28 and got married last year, we always argue about politics (we are on the same side but she is a realist and I’m a romantic) but we love each other even though she makes me cry from emotions and frustration. My step brother John is 27 and he’s always been a fuckin dickhead even when we were kids and they were just my neighbors and not my step sibs - yes my father is dating a woman who used to live across the street from us in the neighborhood I grew up in - He is v strong and has strong opinions, has a lot of tattoos and is a misogynist. My sister Jackie is 26 and is a human fucking landfill who I haven’t spoken directly to in 4 months bc she got mad at me when I showed concern about her boyfriend being abusive, then he did beat her ass and when I tried to talk to her about it she fuckin blocked me on Facebook. Oh yeah and she’s pregnant with his kid and won’t stop smoking cigars. Fucking landfill. My step sis Amanda is 23, always a good time even if she’s a super thot, she has 2 babies who I love more than anything and she lets men make a fool out of her more often than not. I love her. My step brother Chris is my fave step sib mainly bc he went from being an actual juvenile delinquent, arrested and then on parole at age 15 even, to being the first of his family to graduate high school on the same day as me, with a steady job and a wife and a baby and paying his own bills I’M SO PROUD OF HIM. My step sister Tory is 19 and she doesn’t have a real name she’s just Tory, is a bigger fuckin thot than Amanda literally this bitch is in the DM’s of every dude I know and I’m not shaming her like boo do whatever u wanna do but be better at it? Be a boss ass bitch and don’t let ppl make fun of u for being a human disaster?  My younger half-sister Dalaney (Literally, named after Dale Earnhardt thanks to my trash father lmao) is 11 and she lives with her mother in Minnesota. She comes to see us every summer and she is so fucking funny, she is a tomboy and she is a sassmaster just like the rest of us I love her sfm. 

8) What Kind Of Student Are You? I was an honors sudent, took AP classes and barely skirted by (But passed the final exams while my geek fuckin classmates sobbed bc they failed lmao) I graduated with a 4.89 so like, I was litty. I never studied bc why would i read the same thing twice? I also missed a day a week from 6th grade to graduation, bc I was “sick” but really I didn’t feel like going. My mom thought I was lactose intolerant bc I faked sick so much. One time Amanda and I let my mom drive us to school only to walk home (3 miles) and get stopped by a police officer 20 feet from my front door, he wanted to know why we weren’t at school and we lied and said we missed the bus but our moms were fine with us not going to school that day. That fuckin cop offered us a ride to school so we had no choice but to go to school after all that!!!! Then in senior year when my mom left me to live with Jackie I was literally missing 2-3 weeks at a time until the AP was like “If u miss 40 days of school this semester you will be considered a drop out” and I was like “Fuck” so I finished and graduated and never went to college because fuck the education system tbq fuckin h. 

9) What Are Your Favorite Subjects? Math, History, English, Human Geography. I loved learning, that was why I never wanted to be at school, everything was fucking boring but when I had the right teachers, in these subjects in particular, I actually wanted to be there. 

10) What Are Your Favorite TV Shows? I never watched TV until like the last year, I finally got a Netflix subscription and caught up on shit people have been raving about for years but I was completely late on - Shameless, Orange Is The New Black, American Horror Story, Bates Motel, How To Get Away With Murder, in particular. Otherwise I just watch sports. Literally the only reason I pay for cable is so I can watch sports. 

11) Favorite Books? BIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIITCH Scott WESTERFELD ANRD NEAL SHUSTERMAN. LIKE OK I’LL BE A HARRY POTTER STAN ALL MY LIFE. BUT. SCOTT WESTERFELD WROTE AN INGENIOUS SERIES ABOUT SOCIETAL STANDARDS OF BEAUTY (uglies/pretties/specials/extras) AND ALSO HIS VAMPIRE SERIES WHERE VAMPIRISM WAS TRANSMitted through sex and cats (peeps, the last days) WERE THE ONLY VAMPIRE BOOKS I EVER READ LMAOOOO. then, fucking neal. fucking neal shusterman changed my entire life for the better with a series about a future where the pro-life/prochoice battle turned into parents literally having the option of just, not dealing with their unruly teens anymore by having their body parts fucking dispersed to ppl who needed like new hearts, arms, etc (unwind/unwholly/unsouled/undivided) FUCKING ICONIC and also THE SERIES NEAL WROTE ABOUT KIDS WHO DIED AND WERE STUCK IN LIMBO BC THIS EVIL BITCH WOULDN’T LET THEM GO TO HEAVEN (everlost/everwild/everfound) GOD I LOVE BOOKS SO FUCKING MUCH OK. ALSO FOR MY NON-RELIGIOUS ASS EAST OF EDEN BY JOHN STEINBECK IS FUCKIN EVERYTHING. LIFE OF PI ALSO FUCK AND TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD BOOKS ARE GREAT.

12) Favorite Pastimes? If I’m not Netflix binging or watching sports or going to the movies with my friends or drinking with the one friend I have who I can drink with, I’m writing. I have literally 25 characters now I’m fucking trash but I love them all so much ok leave me alone. 

13) Any Regrets? Nah I think I’m the smartest most reasonable person on the planet so I think everything I do is right and not questionable at all lmao. 

14) What Is Your Dream Job? Huh. Hard to say. I’m doing something I love now, and my boss has been in the business for 20 years and his business pulls in 5 mil a year so like.......... I could stand to keep doing this for a long time. Honestly I’ve never had a direction in life so now that I found an occupation that I love I think this might be my dream job. 

15) Do You Want To Get Married? No lmao marriage is a patriarchal social construct and what’s the point? To legally be able to call someone mine? I don’t like people enough to want to spend my entire life with one. 

16) Do You Want To Have Kids? I never in my life want to give birth to a child. That shit is not for me. I have 5 nieces and nephews, a pregnant sister, and another sister who plans on having at least 2 someday. I don’t need no babies. I’ll be the cool vodka aunt who encourages my trash siblings’ kids to follow their hearts and encourages them to be gay if they’re feeling gay. I have always liked the idea of waiting until I’m like 40-45 and rich, and adopting a 10-12 y/o kid bc those kids never get adopted and I’ll just be the best parent to them. 

17) How Many Countries Have You Visited? I’ve never left the United States lmao. Fuck me right???????????????/

I have finished 3 bottles of beer/beer-like substance while writing this and the Rangers just fuckin lost go figure. I want @gingeronastick and @chrisarchers to do this and also whoever else feels like it ok ily babes

[writingsfromthebrain]

Power Off: Chapter Five

Word Count: 2855 Words

1 2 3 4

I finally came to by the early morning rays of light and bird chirping. It was only then that I noticed that I had woken up on the floor of my bedroom.

Did I fall off the bed again? I thought that habit stopped a year ago…

I stretched on the floor before I sat up and started orienting myself. It was then that I noticed Blue was lying on my bed. She was still passed out from yesterday’s injuries.

Oh right, I guess I blacked out on the floor after healing her. Well, I guess I can make some breakfast.

I set aside some spare bathroom essentials for Blue before I made my way downstairs and started on making omelettes and fried rice.

I was just beginning to store the extra food I made for the rest of this week when Blue finally made her way down the stairs looking refreshed and more put together.

“Morning.”

“Morning Sparky. Did you make all this?”

“Yup, your plate is in the oven. I thought you’d be asleep a little longer, so I thought I would keep it warm in the oven as I stored this before I brought it up. You feeling better?”

“Yup, thanks for healing me. Oh, would it be alright if the hero crew came by to talk about Power Off?  My dad suggested it when he called a little bit ago to check up on me.”

“Yeah sure, this is my address. Offer them some of this if they want some breakfast. I’ll go freshen up first.” I say as I handed her my address and went to freshen up and change into a new suit.

By the time I finished, Blue’s family was already present and was sitting at the table eating their breakfast.

“Hey Sparky, here’s my family, the rest of the crew should be here any moment now.” Blue said.

“Morning there! You should know Power and I by now and I assume you now know my son Lightning because of yesterday’s events. The guy next to him is his older twin, Thunder. And of course you know Blue. Oh, thanks for breakfast. It tastes amazing!” Streak said enthusiastically.

“Thank you, glad you enjoy it.” I say as a pattern of knocks interrupt our conversation.

I open the door and greeted the heroes at the door as they made their way in, introducing themselves on the way.

Power stood up after the heroes filed in and properly introduced the heroes to me while they piled their plates with food.

“That guy over in the corner with the rippled aquamarine suit is Tidal Wave with his wife, Blaze, in the ombre red-orange suit. The lady next to them in the metallic slate gray would be Steel and the guy in the purple next to her is the guy who found you in the alleyway, Sludge. Like Blue said, we have a few members that couldn’t make it, but that’s about it as for the superhero population of this town.”

“Well, hello there everyone. Honored to meet you all. So, what exactly happened after Blue and I left and what are we planning to do about Power Off?” “Shortly after we arrived and you guys left the scene of the crime, we found the machine you had dropped while trying to leave with Blue, but throughout the chaos, it was smashed.” Power said as he pulled out the remains of my my machine. “We did have some luck in the first five minutes into the base as your machine pinged despite being smashed, but it completely died and we were met with the same fate with new locations of bombs. We pulled out before we lost any more members while James Atkins and his parents are nowhere to be found. We still don’t know why Power Off is so interested in the Atkins family, besides Steven being the mayor of this city, but this obviously hasn’t been the first occurrence. We knew that they had something planned out like this for about a week, but we didn’t know the extent of their situation. Now we know that their base is now fully loaded with a new assortment of bombs that Blue and Thunder unfortunately had a taste of. How effective is that machine you got there?” Power briefly explained.

“I don’t know how accurate it is, but it’s a trap detector.” I said as I held up the small machine. “It hasn’t really had much field experience, but besides it being a little slow, it seems to detect all traps ranging from manual to automatic traps. Then again, I know where all my traps are, so it may just be a biased accuracy.”

“You have traps here? I guess that makes sense. Don’t want anyone to be snooping around here.”

“Hah, yeah. I have a multitude of traps, but they also haven’t had much real life experience though, I think I may have scared a squirrel with a waterfall of worms the other day.”

“A waterfall of worms? Nice, must have scared that squirrel senseless.” Lightning said as he burst out in laughter.

“Where are your parents? I’m surprised they haven’t walked into this powwow of superheroes.” Sludge joked.

“Well, they’re kinda dead anyways.” I suggested solemnly.

“Oh sorry kid, I didn’t kno-”

“It’s fine. It’s been a couple of years anyways.” I said as silence fell among us.

“Well, I think that just about wraps everything up for this meeting. Thanks for breakfast and letting us use your home.” Power said as everybody flowed out with goodbyes.

Once everybody left, I set out to get my trapfinder in working order. While its exterior was damaged beyond repair, the wiring and boards inside were only slightly damaged. It wasn’t until about 8pm that night that I finally set out to starting my homework. Luckily, all I had was a lab report to finish.

The next day at school didn’t start out that exciting. I put in a prototype of electronic contacts that basically functioned like Jarvis for Iron Man and set off to school. When I got there, I was shocked to see James at school as if he was not kidnapped the day before. There did not seem to be anything out of the ordinary in terms of his physical appearance and he tried to play off yesterday’s events as one big prequel senior prank. The school body ate that up real quick, but honestly, the villains were pretty good at hiding it because they had fixed the cafeteria back to near perfect condition, allowing the lie that James told to play out. Yet, dirt that resulted from the explosion still dusted the floors of the cafeteria.

Why did he lie about it? Is he part of the Power Off or is he being watched by someone currently in this room?

I opened up the trapfinder option with my glasses and took a glance around the room as dots appeared in my field of vision. As the typical security camera dots appeared in my line of vision, I counted out about ten moving triangles spread throughout the cafeteria and the rest of the school. The triangles typically indicated some type of listening device or some type of intelligence gathering device being used. Cell phones did not show up as triangles unless they were being used for intelligence/recording. I still had to figure out a program to separate regular school/everyday filming to top secret CIA level filming. I watched each triangle, sorting through all the kids, trying to find which ones were presently in the same room with me and for any noticeable similarities between each triangle and their corresponding human. In the cafeteria alone, there were three kids, all with matching black Jansport backpacks with one pocket for a water bottle. While this set of glasses didn’t have the x-ray vision update, I was able to pull up information about the three kids as I looked at them. One of them was kid by the name of Charlie Lorenz. He was a freshman with a typical freshman schedule of english, math, history, and science. He was involved with the choir and was taking an entry level computer science class, which was strange because he’s also won many local, national, and global competitions in the field of computer science and engineering. A very high key kid in a relatively low-key setting. Another kid, a sophomore, went by the name of Maria Zahir. Looking at her schedule, one could easily tell she was an art kid. Her classes were filled with classes ranging from drawing, ceramics to photography. She had entered a few contests and placed relatively high except for those first two years she got into art. I’m not sure how her skills could help Power Off in attaining whatever goal they’re working for though. The last of the three was a senior. Aaron Mathia was basically the top golden boy of the school. He played three different seasonal sports, volunteered at a nearby hospital, somehow still had a perfect gpa, and was committed to going to Harvard after he graduated this coming spring.

How did these three students connect? Why these students? After a further look into the kids’ family background, I found that at least one of their parents were working in a STEM related job under a company by the name of Psionics Optimization. Their logo consisted of the letters P and O in electric, holographic blue. It was ringed with a silver laurel wreath with a golden lightning strike through the middle from the top right down to the bottom left.

P and O. Power… Off…?

I must have been too obsessed with Power Off because of recent events, but I don’t believe that this was a coincidence. I wandered towards the other dots that were farther away in the school and noticed very similar familial occupations once their faces came into view. What was interesting though was that there were two triangles over two of our teachers supervising this lunch period. They were a married couple, Mr. and Mrs. Olinat, and they were pretty well known as being super nice and the chemistry powerhouse of this school. Nothing about them showed any connections with Power Off or Psionics Optimization besides the STEM related field of occupation and the triangle that marked them.

“Arian, send this information and my observations to Power. I’m going to try and talk with Mr. Olinat to see if I can figure out what they are up to.”

As I made my way to Mr. Olinat’s office, I pondered if I should actually confront him. How was I going to ask him about his hidden listening device if I hadn’t been near him all day? Am I just gonna be like, ‘Oh hey Mr. Olinat! I know I haven’t seen you all day but I’ve noticed you had a listening device of some sort so I just wanted to know what’s up. Also, did you know at least three other kids had similar devices as well?’

Yeah, I don’t think that would have gone well. For all I know, they are a part of the same organization, but maybe some higher level operatives in charge of the other students listening to whatever is happening. Maybe I should try and m-

“Chase? I have spoken with Power and he said Mr. and Mrs. Olinat have always had COMs on them, but after yesterday’s events, they were instructed to have them turned on. They are helping him listen in on the students to see what they are doing. He thanks you for alerting him of such developments.”

“That’s good to hear. Is there a way for you to tune into the kids’ COMs so we could listen in? I’m curious about what is happening. Confronting the Olinats would kinda blow my secret identity, despite them being on the good side.”

“Of course Chase. Just give me a moment to determine the frequency and transfer it to your COM.”

Quiet static filled my right ear as I waited for Arian to find the frequency.

“... James… Lose control… Soon… So make sure you guys keep watch on him because he will black out. He won’t be able to fight against us anymore once the injection spreads throughout his whole body in 20 more minutes. His father will have no choice but to listen to us.”

Alarmed by this sudden piece of information, I tried to find James amongst the mass of students in the cafeteria as I noticed more triangle students with similar Jansport backpacks start to file into the room. At that moment, I saw James enter the boys bathroom and I decided to follow suit, taking out a prototype of a safer and quicker dose of chloroform, Arian and I have dubbed it Chloroform-To-Go, to knock James out so that I could examine him. He was out in just five seconds and I changed into my supersuit in case anybody walked in on me with the unconscious son of the mayor.

With my healing abilities and technokinesis, I was able to pick up little microbots in James’ bloodstream and just about anywhere else you can imagine. Then, carefully, I started absorbing the energy from every few microbots and breaking them apart so that I didn’t accidentally absorb energy from James and his body system rendering them useless hopefully. In addition, I also used healing to melt the microbots to a safe body substance and cleared any possible toxins that were found in the body once the microbots were destroyed. But, because of the energy and concentration it took to use my technokinesis to locate the microbots, concentrate energy absorption with energy manipulation, and then clean up with a combo of healing and technokinesis, I only got through about a third of the microbots before a suddenly animate unconscious James clumsily clapped two fists at my temple.

An excruciating pain erupted through my head as my vision doubled and fatigue suddenly sank in. While trying to reach for my emergency ambrosia, Arian informed me that she had already alerted the superhero crew and that they were on the way.

I noticed that James, while still unconscious, started staggering towards the bathroom entrance. I bear hugged him further back into the bathroom and strapped him up with the metal of the bathroom doors and returned to trying to cleanse James of the microbots.

With the microbots now activated, the cleansing process was much tougher as they seemed to have developed an outer layer protection. The energy and concentration increased tenfold, making the process a lot slower. It didn’t help that unconscious James kept flailing every so often.

The process randomly started to speed up when I suddenly noticed a presence nearby.

“Don’t worry Sparky, It’s just me, Sludge. Good thing I found you, looks like you could use a hand. I’ll help with the melting process. Focus on marking and cleansing James.”

A good chunk of time passed until the microbots were finally vanquished from James’ body. My vision was blurry and spotted for an entirely different reason as my hands automatically reached for more backup ambrosia, offering some of it to Sludge as well. While previous uses of ambrosia usually led to an immediate splash of refreshment, it left my body craving for more. As if you only had half a sip of ice, cold water after a long workout. I reached for another ambrosia piece with similar sensations. I decided against another piece as I turned my attention back to James. He was still unconscious, but he had stopped trying to escape his metal prison. Bruises that had formed on his once fair skin during the struggle have disappeared because of the healing. All left that was wrong was that he was still unconscious.

“Well, that was one heck of a healing process. Do you think you can still fight? I think the enemy brought out reinforcements, but our crew is handling it well so far.”

“Yeah sure, who else will stop them from slacking?”

“You right. Can’t let them slack off. While I would rather have him moved to a safer location, that metal cage should be able to hold him down pretty well.” Sludge said with a playful wink.

Sludge and I cautiously made our way out the bathroom and headed towards most of where the commotion was coming from. What came into view was many mini battles of heroes versus 2-5 villains. While it was true that the heroes were holding off so far, growing fatigue was evident on all the faces of the heroes. With an activation of the energy shield, I rushed to an outlet and stuck my finger in to absorb the energy, knowing concentrated absorbing would require more stamina from my already depleting tank. In less than 5 seconds, I was charged up and warned my teammates to move as a field of blue electricity danced across the cafeteria. Yet again, I greeted darkness as I saw our side left standing over the fallen enemies.

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[hearticho]

i saw your post on the stressful class you had a while back, how did you deal with it? because i feel like giving up on my thesis right now and i'm panicking because deliberations are just around the corner and i haven't done anything significant. i'm having an existential crisis like, did i pick the right course? is this what i really want? if i'm subjecting myself to this kind of stress, is this degree worth it/right for me? why did i choose this? how did i end up in this mess? and it's

especially hurting because this is the second time i’m taking this class (i need to pass this to graduate), and i dropped this class last year for the same reason i have now (among other things too). it’s not that i’m a lazy student, i had excellent marks in other subjects and led groupworks for different classes, but this particular thesis class has me stumped. i want to give up and take some time to re-evaluate myself. but i’m afraid of what my parents, friends, classmates, peers, and profs would think of me if i delay graduation again. like i can already picture their “disappointed face” and i can’t take it. i just want to go away to someplace where nobody knows me, where nobody expects anything from me, and start over.

First of all, thank you so much for taking the time to write out your ask and for confiding in me. I never thought I would receive any asks when I made this tumblr a year ago, but every time I do, I’m so glad I get to connect with other people. 

Second of all, I’ve never been the best at giving advice, but I’m going to try my best. You can always send me another ask or an instant message if you feel comfortable with that. If what I’m about to say doesn’t help you at all, I’m always willing to just listen and/or talk through it with you!!!

I think I’ve written a few posts about my stressful class (because it’s been the bane of my existence this semester), but I’m going to assume you’re referring to my post about how anxious I was about writing for it? I can relate to a lot about what you said and it seems like something about my post resonated with you. But before I give my two cents, I’ll let you know my situation and then we can go from there. 

MY CURRENT SEMESTERSo I’m a senior right now and I’m trying to graduate in May. I’m only taking three classes (8 credit hours total) this semester because I’m doing an internship as well. In order to graduate with two degrees (I’m double majoring), I need to complete 158 credit hours. Since I’m only taking 8 credit hours, my grades this semester won’t significantly impact my GPA. My goal is to just pass all my classes and graduate. 

The stakes aren’t super high for me… But I’m still tremendously stressed out about my advanced comp class because I have to write a lot. (More than I’ve ever written for one class.) I have really bad writing anxiety, so I was about 6-7 weeks behind on writing (before I finally caught up somewhat). I was worried about ending up with an F by the end of the class and not being able to graduate with both degrees (I’d be able to graduate with at least one). I was able to finish a good chunk of the assignments the week after spring break. I’ll have to turn in two more assignments and then the class will be over. I’m still concerned about how things will turn out, but I think I’ll still be able to get the credit for my stressful class.

HOW DID I DEAL?I’m having a hard time answering your first question because I honestly DIDN’T deal with it for a long time. The anxiety got so bad that I couldn’t even make outlines or look at the assignments. I pushed it off for almost two months. Going home during spring break and being able to take a breather from the stress of the advanced comp class and everything else was something that I really needed. The break allowed me to re-calibrate and then do some more planning to make writing less daunting for me. In my head, I figured out step-by-step about what I needed to do to finish my writing assignments and knowing that I had a road map helped a lot. 

EXISTENTIAL CRISES This semester I didn’t really have any existential crises like you about whether or not I chose the right majors, but of course I have wondered about that from time to time and I think I’ll continue to wonder about that even after graduation. I think a lot of people wonder if what they’re pursuing is something they actually want. 

Whenever I’m stressing out about whether or not I really want something, I talk to a variety of people. I talk to people who are in the same field as me, people who are in different fields as me, my friends and roommate, my favorite professors, etc. The more I keep talking about it, the more I can visualize the future and realize how I truly feel about something. 

(I personally really like having one-on-one conversations, so this might be helpful for me but not for you.) 

Even though I’ve had doubts about my majors, I still have more positive feelings than negative feelings. If you have WAY more negative feelings than positive feelings then maybe stepping back from it or finding something else would be the right thing for you. Also, figuring out exactly which parts unsettle you could also be useful for re-directing yourself. 

For instance, if you’re an education major and you’re finding out that you don’t want to work in a traditional teacher role like in an elementary school or high school but you still like education, maybe you could look into teaching adults who never got their GEDs or immigrants or going abroad to teach English or going into education research. Some parts of your major, and not the whole major, might have drawn you in, so learning what those parts are might be beneficial to moving forward. 

But… it sounds like you’re doing well except for this one thesis class. Like, you’ve done all the work and you’re almost at the finish line except that there’s this one big obstacle before you can receive your medal. Question you can ask yourself: If this obstacle didn’t exist, would I still be ok with sticking with my major or would I still be displeased? 

(I don’t know all your circumstances or your relationship to your studies, so again, if you want to explain more about it or talk through it, you can always send a follow ask or instant message me!)

QUITTING AND DISAPPOINTING PEOPLETo answer your other concerns about dropping things and possibly disappointing people, I would say that your well-being ALWAYS comes first. 

If your academics are totally wrecking your emotional and mental health, then I honestly don’t think it’s worth it. You don’t have to love anything 100% of the time, but shouldn’t you enjoy what you’re doing most of the time? Is finishing your degree (at this time) worth losing your mind?

This was the first semester that I’ve dropped a class in college (and had to pick up an online 8-week class) because while I was growing up, I was told to always just stick it out even when it gets tough. Quitting is “shameful” and it’s “weak” to give up. Little did I know how satisfying and relieving it is to drop classes lmao 

It’s very upsetting to know that you’ve let down the people around you, but if they really care about you, they will understand that you either 1) need more time or 2) need to pursue something else. It might be tough to endure the disappointing faces and words and there might be some friction during any transitional periods, but people usually get over it once they see you 1) back on track at a later time or 2) happier in a different field. 

PEOPLE I KNOW WHO HAVE TAKEN THEIR TIMESince I like to have a lot of conversations with people (I can get pretty nosy), I’ve met some great people who got to their goals by taking the long way around. 

1. My older sister went to undergrad for 6 years. It took her a long time because she switched majors and took a year off because of her mental health. She graduated with an English degree. She’s now taking classes to be an ultrasound tech at a different school. 

2. My resident director who ran the dorm I lived in during my first year went to undergrad for about 7-8 years. He kept switching majors and couldn’t figure out what he really wanted. I don’t think his degree coincided with his res director job at all. He’s good at what he does and he loves his wife and two babies. 

3. One of the directors of my school’s LGBT resource center had to take a stats class to finish his degree and he took it five times because he really struggles with math. He was eventually able to graduate. He’s never had to think about stats since the end of that class. 

4. One of my community health professors took a chemistry class three times because he wanted to be pre-med. He could never get above a C-, so he chose to go into public health instead because he still wanted to pursue something health-related. It worked out really well for him. 

5. My roommate dropped one of her required classes because her schedule was too overwhelming. She won’t be able to graduate with me in May, but she’s going to take it again during the summer and then graduate in August. She’s so happy that she doesn’t have to take on everything in one semester. She can put all of her focus on her most difficult class without any distractions during the summer. 

DELAYING GRADUATIONA third of my friends are staying for an extra semester or year because they need more time. Going to undergrad for more than 4 years is becoming more normalized. Graduating “on time” is not the narrative of a huge percentage of students these days. If you can afford to pay for another semester or take out loans, then it can definitely be an option. If you can afford to take a break from school for a while to figure things out or get a job, that can also be an option. 

You don’t have to put a rush on things. You’re not going to “fall behind.” 

What’s waiting for you? A job? Grad school? Both will be there for you when you’re ready for it. Those opportunities are not going to suddenly disappear because you waited a little longer than you expected or didn’t graduate the same semester as your classmates.  

The only reason why I’m finishing in 4 years is because I got lucky. That’s it. Not because I was exceptionally bright or hard working or because I had to. It just kind of ended up that way. 

LAST WORDSIt can be tough to live up to any expectations. You want to make people happy and proud and be the person they want you to be. But the fact that they forced these types of expectations on you is pretty unfair! Shouldn’t your health and happiness be what they care about the most?

You’re not a little kid anymore and you should be able to form your own expectations and limits. If you’re not ready, then you’re not ready. You’re going to meet your current goals, modified goals, or new goals eventually, whether you finish on time or decide to take the scenic route. 

I’m assuming you’re in your early twenties like me. I have to remind myself all the time that I’m actually not that old. We still have SO much time to grow and learn. At this stage in our lives, we have the privilege of making mistakes and we have to take full advantage of it. 

P.S. I’m sorry for replying to this so late! Some friends are visiting this weekend and I also wanted to take my time with this. I’m also sorry this was so wordy! For someone who gets writing anxiety, I sure do like to write a lot for my asks lmao