#some are missing and i hope to find them in the storage unit

[wienerlicious]

sure the economy sucks and i can't afford a house or kids but at least i was born at the perfect time to be the target demographic for twilight

[hoe4sports]

How this ends p3

Alexia Putellas x reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4

Thank you to @karsonromanoff for giving me inspiration and ideas for this part.

A note from the author: This is the third part of how this ends based off of Lewis Capaldi’s how this ends. Read the part’s chronologically. I have changed the age of them becoming a pair to 13, in order to make the story make more sense. Part four coming soon.

Also, fuck me, this was really shit.

Warnings: A lot of talking.

Summary: It’s been a few months since Alexia broke up with you and you handed over your promise ring to her. You and Frido make plans for the summer.

-

You found yourself sat in Frido’s spare bedroom, but by now; it was practically your bedroom. The thing about Fridolina was that you met her ages ago. Frido had been in the room when Alexia had told you that she had to miss out on an event she had promised to be a plus one to. It made you feel sad, but as the good girlfriend you were; you kept it inside. Fridolina had then suggested that she could tag along, which you happily agreed to. It was your first time being invited to such a big prestigious event so having someone familiar there was a big safety thing for you. The event was an invitation only charity event by the Red Cross. To your luck, Fridolina had actually volunteered for the organisation back in Sweden which lead her to be your first reserve.

The pair of you instantly hit it off, and from that moment; you were inseparable. She was what could’ve been described as a soul sister, the kind of friend that just gets you.

It had now been 2 months since you walked out of your Alexia’s apartment with everything you ever knew packed up in cardboard boxes that was shipped off to a storage unit until you could figure your life out. You hadn’t seen Alexia, not that you had made much of an effort. It felt like an emptiness, that slowly had started to close. The costs of it were clear, you stayed away from her part of the town. More so, you had avoided going to the places she would usually go.

Being the girlfriend of a famous athlete wasn’t for everyone, and you sure felt the statement in your bones. You see, you and Alexia had been together since you were teens. She had promised you a ring, a big white wedding, kids and a real house. Instead you got 10 years worth of waiting, a cat and an apartment not suitable for children. People had made up competitions based off of when Alexia would purpose to you, when you would have kids or what your next pet would be. The plans you had were now placed on the back burner.Life had just spun out in the worst possible scenario, but Frido was on a mission to help you heal.

“Y/N! Are you awake?”

You huffed and covered your head with the fluffy pillow hoping she would go away.

“Ugh, you are taking to long. Hide your titties, I’m coming in!”

You looked over at the door which a second later had Frido barging out of it. You giggled at her silly little manoeuvre. Her face showed off a surprised grin before she walked to the window and pulled the curtain apart to let sunlight in. She then turned around and laid down in the big bed next to you, while you kept looking at her.

“How are we feeling today, Y/N?”

“Like shit”

“Y/n..”

“Okay, fine. I’m feeling a bit less empty. More like, half full than half empty actually.”

“Do I sense a sliver of positivity? Have I just discovered something we thought was extinct?” Frido teased with a fake surprised grin, and you playfully shoved her shoulder while staring up at the ceiling.

“Honestly? I don’t know. I’m not sure where to begin. What to do about my job, you know? My job is social media, sadly built on being the girlfriend of a famous footballer”

“I have a solution”

Frido looked mischievous, and you could see the trouble a million miles away.

“Oh god, now what?”

“Until I can find a way to become keen on women so I can wife you up, then I’m sure some of the girls on the team would be happy to bag you! How about Jenni? Cata? Ona? Or, I think I even have the phone number of Leah Williamson and Mary Earps!”

Frido fished the phone out of her pocket and demonstrated by going through her contact list loudly. You just rolled your eyes at her again before giggling.

«Oh, Mackenzie Arnold! No, wait, she’s dating that aussie Girl»

«Okay wait, Ada Hegeberg? No, no. She’s straight and old.”

“Maybe this is the one! Lucy Bronze! No, that would be so weird”

“But, what about Alana Kennedy or Claire? You’d get to hang out with the Mathildas and I’m sure mini’s wife would love a extra set of hands”

“Wait, no, girl! Here, Jessie Fleming! She’s hot, and I’m pretty sure she likes all the photos you post!”

Frido was ass deep in her phone which made you smile at her. You loved her silliness. It always seemed to bring some joy into your life. Her suggestions were out of pure love and you could spend forever listening to her.

“Fridolina, I appreciate the effort but unless you are about to turn gay, then I think I’m taking a break from the whole dating a football player thing; didn’t seem to work out for me”

Frido stuck her tongue out playfully at you, before looking down at her phone again.

“How about that rugby player from the Olympics?Ilona Maher! Oh, wait. Straight. But then, what about the rower from Germany?”

You playfully smacked her in the back of her head with a pillow before Frido put her phone down and sighted. Frido dramatically threw her hands in the air while gesturing dramatically.

“You are gonna be alone until you turn 50! That cannot happen! I wanna be your bridesmaid, i wanna be a moster!

“Well, you might have a chance now since I’m not with alexia anymore. She wasn’t planning to purpose anytime soon, and she was for sure not having kids within the next 5 years. She’s gonna die alone with a bunch of cats while refusing to retire”

You looked at Frido; Frido looked at you while holding her head up. There was a silence before a smile appeared on both of your faces. You both broke into a laugh and laid down next to each other again.

“How about we go to breakfast? I’ll treat you”

You smiled. If there was anything you loved, it was to go out for breakfast. You hadn’t gone out for breakfast since you and Alexia were at least 2 years younger. The truth was that you missed it.

“I haven’t gone out for breakfast in forever. Alexia didn’t want to because of the calories”

Frido furrowed her brows in annoyance of Alexia.

“Fuck the calories, Fuck Alexia, I work hard to be able to have them”

You let out a chuckle.

“I think I have had enough of fucking Alexia for a lifetime, babe”

-

You found yourself sat down by the window in this beautiful little cafe. It had an almost magical view of the park with a river slithering through it and a view of the little playground. The sun was beaming outside, and it was peaking out from the lace curtains hanging from the ceiling.

The coffees you ordered arrived, and you took a sip of yours before breaking out in a disappointed grin. The grin on your face caused Frido to giggle, nearly spilling out the contents of her cup. She looked at your cup, and back at hers before pushing her cup towards you. You took a sip and instantly felt satisfied. Your eyes were practically seeing stars. Frido smiled before accepting your cup as hers. The gesture made your heart swell with pride of your bestfriend. Alexia hadn’t done anything like that for you since you were teens.

“You know how they say that women see it coming? I honestly think that I did see it coming, and that’s why I’m doing okay. It’s weird, but she was spilling away for years. She forgot all dates and dinners, and she would tell me that i could just go to be because she was gonna be home late. Like, it feels like the love died before our relationship did.”

“I get that, isn’t it like an intuition thing? I’m pretty sure i saw a tiktok about it from a psychiatrist earlier.”

“Intuition? Interesting. I guess you could say that, I mean, I’m sad of course. Anyone would be. But then again, I’m okay with her decision. I’ve come to terms with it. If she didn’t love me anymore, then it’s better that she ended things.”

“It’s just so odd, Y/N. I don’t understand why she ended things with you. She makes it seem like you weren’t together for over 10 years.”

“That’s actually funny, she never gave me a reason! Perhaps I didn’t do her laundry well enough or maybe my cooking is shit.”

You frowned a bit when things about all the things you probably did wrong. Frido raised an eyebrow before letting out a short laugh.

“What are you even on about, you mad woman! Your cooking is elite. You have better housewife skills than my mom. Gud, if i ever encounter the woman then i might have to end her.”

You laughed softly at Frido until you noticed that the server was coming over with two steaming plates. She sat them down in front of you and you looked up at Frido who were grinning from ear to ear.

“This looks delish! Devine! If I were out on the deathrow, this would be my last meal.” Frido joked while studying her plate.

“Let me take a quick story of you and the food, pretty please?”

Frido raised her brow at you in confusion. The worry in your pit appeared, but was quickly erased by Frido’s reassuring words.

“Babe, you don’t have to ask. I’ve already said that! You support my work by coming to games, even Sweden games. I support your work by appearing on your socials. Alexia really did rearrange your head, is that why she suddenly never appeared on your socials?”

You nodded before raising your shoulders. Your phone was grabbed from the table and Frido did a wink to you when you turned the frame in her direction. You placed down you phone before stabbing the pancake with your fork and dipping it in the Canadian syrup. The meal went on, and you talked about everything from your work to when Frido’s next international match was going to take place.

“The match is set for July 11th, it’s a home game at first before the return in Ireland.”

You nodded eagerly while having strawberries filling your mouth.

“I’m planning to head out a few days earlier. You know, to see Morsan and Pappa. My grandparents have also been missing me.”

You swallowed down the berries before taking a sip of coffee.

“Oh, how are things with Simon now? Is he still busy being needy?”

“Haha, I guess I didn’t tell you! I ended things with him, it just wasn’t working out”

You raised your brow in confusion before putting your fork down.

“But you were so in love just a few months ago go? What happened?”

Frido shrugged her shoulders while leaning backwards to her chair.

“It wasn’t really love, more like a friendly kind of love. I don’t really think I ever felt in love with him, you know. The butterflies kind of love?”

You nodded at her while giving her a sincere smile.

“Hot girl summer it is then!”

Frido laughed at you before smiling widely. The pair of you started eating before Frido’s head suddenly popped up towards you.

“Girl, you should come with me to Sweden! You can meet my family, I can show you my childhood memories and you can join me to Ireland! Wouldn’t that be fun?”

You looked at her, slightly skeptical.

“Are you sure? Not to be a party pooper, but have you asked the team?”

“I’m sure they’ll just be happy to have a social media specialist joining us! Besides, there are some pretty good looking girls on the squad.”

Frido winked before you giggled again. Nobody could make you laugh like Frido.

-

A few weeks later you were sitting in your temporary bedroom at Frido’s while editing some content for your social media. It was an event you did a few months prior with an organisation that has volunteers who cleans the beaches. It was all done as a part of their summer campaign, and the deadline was creeping up on you. The issue was that Alexia had tagged along on the event, and you watched clips of you filing vlog style while other clips were filmed by a crew.

The clips made you feel numb, but this was work and it was already a done deal. You had already signed it, and Alexia had agreed to it earlier. You made a mental note to send Alexia a text about the video coming out before it was live. It was the last content you had of the pair of you together and quite a few of the huge amount of followers you had, had started questioning it. You had always been all about transparency, but this time it was different. This was personal, and it was something that needed time. At the same time, you felt like the fans deserved honesty from you.

You write down in your book to talk to your PR adviser about how to address it in the meeting that was coming up in a few days. But what was also coming up in a few days, was your trip with Frido. The excitement has finally started blossoming when she got the green light from her national team, and the trip could’nt have come at a better time.

“Y/N, hide your titties, I’m coming in!”

You giggled as Frido walked in with her hands over her eyes.

“You are all clear babe, no titties out. Besides when have I ever had my titties out?”

You asked in a sassy tone. Frido peeked through her hands before looking at you innocently while shrugging. She flopped onto your bed right next to you and pulled out her phone. She sat for a moment while you edited before she broke the silence.

“So, Alexia came to practice today”

You could feel your stomach drop to the ground. Your suddenly good mood turned into clouds and thunder.

“Good for her”

“Well, yes. But that’s besides the point. She asked about you.”

You felt yourself becoming protective and hostile when her name was mentioned. How dare she ask about you when she broke up with you? It made your blood boil, and your cheeks rushed with blood. You closed your MacBook before looking at Frido.

“What did she want?”

Frido looked at you.

“Do you want me to tell you the truth or what you want to hear?”

“The truth”

“She asked if she could come over to talk to you, and she handed me this. She said it belonged to you, that you forgot it behind.”

You looked at Frido with anger in your eyes. It was building up rapidly, like steam was about to come flying out of your ears. You couldn’t form a sentence, not even say a word. Frido looked apologetically at you.

“I’m sorry babe; but this is all yours. I’m gonna hop into the shower, i have dinner with Cata and Caro soon”

She moved to stand on her knees in the bed before she kissed the top of your head and walk out of the room, closing the door behind her. You looked at the box Alexia had sent with her, and you wanted to burn it up. You wanted to destroy it, to throw it off a cliff and to hand it in to a charity shop. Whatever was left in the box was something that you had been perfect without.

You sat and stared at the box for a good 30 minutes debating on whether to open it or not. The decision ended up on leaning into your natural curious side. You pulled the lid of the box before closing your eyes and holding the box infront of your face.

Your eyes opened up with a squint, scared to see what was inside.

The first thing you pulled up was a picture of your cat. Gosh, you thought to yourself. I’m going to get him back.

You reached into the box and found a picture of you and Alexia. It was taken at a water park when you were 14, and your families had decided to do a shared vacation.

Then your hand found a little box.

You picked it up and shook it.

You immediately knew what was inside.

The lid was pushed off.

There it was.

In all its shining glory.

The band of Alexia’s promise ring.

You instinctively closed your eyes.

You picked it up and turned it around to face you while having your eyes closed.

You flipped it around towards you.

You opened your eyes in agony.

Wrong.

It is your promise ring.

Or.

It was your promise ring.

[carylerxsecretsanta]

Written For: @theresnosafeharbor4myships

Title: blushing Author: @lola-andheruniverse Rating: T/ Teen and Up Audiences Summary: “Between running for their lives, scavenging non-stop for food, sleeping with one eye open and trying to not to freeze to death, making Daryl blush becomes a welcome distraction to push Carol throughout the winter.” A/N: Dear Michelle, I tried (emphasis on tried) to give you some flirty early Caryl goodness since that’s what you like. It’s set between the S2/S3 interlude and the Governor’s attack on S3. A very short fic, almost a slice-of-life, but I really hope it puts a smile on your face this Christmas. Happy holidays and a beautiful and kind 2025 for you.

                                                             X

It starts small and without purpose, as all seemingly unimportant things usually do.

They both needed a break from the claustrophobic storage units Rick decided should be their home for the foreseeable future because Lori kept getting sick on the road. Daryl wanted to try one more time to hunt something big to fill their stomachs, muttering that there must be some deer out there that those damned walkers hadn’t chewed up yet. Carol wanted to harvest some greens to, at worst, guarantee some kind of soup to warm them up for the night, and at best, serve as a side dish for whatever game he managed to catch. So they leave at dawn, while most of the group are still sleeping bundled together; T-Dog guarding them, chain-smoking at the rooftop.

The early morning air is crisp and invigorating in her lungs. Even though winter is fast approaching, the woods are still vibrant with all the fall colors that the slow rising sun reveals to them. They remind her of Sophia, but today it doesn’t make her heart hurt. Not really. Carol cannot feel or see any sound, smell, or trail that would indicate the proximity of any horde, and the fact that Daryl is walking relaxed beside her rather than in front of her makes her feel confident that her assessment is correct. It’s not the first time she joins him on a hunt. Or to walk the perimeter. Find water or wood to make a fire. After the farm fell, they tended to navigate towards each other. Together, on the outskirts of everything else.

“You seem quite chill today.” She says quietly, crouching down to bag some wild kale.

“Uhm, jus’ like mornings like this. Fresh. Clean.” He takes a deep breath while scanning their surroundings. “Way better than those stinking metal coffins we sleeping in. If Carl keeps taking his nasty shoes off to sleep, I’ll have to cut his feet off.”

Carol snorts. “Be nice. We need to find him some bigger shoes. It’s not Carl’s fault he’s growing and going through hormonal changes. Teenagers smell, Daryl.”

“Not my nose’s fault neither.” He grunts, extending a hand to help her get up.

“Well, you’re really hot, you know?” Carol says, arranging her shoulder bag to make room. “You could always try sleeping outside, at least as long as the temperature isn’t too low.”

When Daryl doesn’t answer, she looks up. His whole face is flushed red and he’s staring at her with a completely new, baffled expression. It takes a beat for Carol to understand what it means.

“Hum…We’re missing daylight.” He murmurs and instantly walks away, almost tripping on an exposed tree root.

Embarrassed.

And it’s such a foreign notion that Daryl Dixon could get so flustered over a poorly phrased sentence like that, that Carol can’t help but file the knowledge away for the near future, while chuckling softly to herself.

                                                             X

Between running for their lives, scavenging non-stop for food, sleeping with one eye open and trying to not to freeze to death, making Daryl blush becomes a welcome distraction to push Carol throughout the winter. She throws silly (but smart) innuendos at him whenever they are alone, sharing some chores or just keeping each other company while avoiding the rest of the group. It takes some of the weight off both of their shoulders, as she finds that Daryl does get flustered easily, but doesn’t really seem to mind her dirty sense of humor. Or her fondness for making him squirm.

Uh, are you glad to see me? She asks every single time she catches Daryl cleaning a gun, with a perfect Mae West impersonation, that paints the tip of his pointy ears bright red. Not really. He always says back, snorting or squinting his eyes in her direction, depending on his mood, but never sending her away or ignoring her presence.

Any compliment Daryl gives her cooking is met with fluttering eyelashes and bright smiles that put a healthy flush on his cheeks. And Carol calls him a dirty, dirty man when Daryl comes back from the woods with so much blood or mud on his clothes that they need to be washed. The more languid her voice, the redder his face becomes.

It is funny and sweet and she can’t get enough of it.

                                                                X

“That’s a big cock.”

Carol happily observes when Daryl comes back from a hunt with three dead chickens and a giant rooster. It’s a Christmas miracle, the last good meal they have before the group is forced to leave the storage units behind because it got too cold to live on bare concrete and metal.

“You’s seriously unhinged, woman, you know that?” Daryl manages to answer back, not before almost choking on his own spit.

No one understands why she keeps laughing throughout the meal, nor why Daryl’s face is as red as a ripe tomato the entire evening.

                                                                X

“It’s pretty romantic. Screw around?”

Daryl double checks before snorting and Carol laughs, feeling as happy as she can get after they conquered the field around the prison that afternoon. A permanent home after so many months on the road.

“I’ll go down first.” Daryl mumbles, a light but very present blush on his cheeks.

“Even better.” She can’t resist. It’s like he’s asking for it.

“Stop.”

                                                                X

“What yah doin’ up?” Daryl asks as he takes the large plastic box she’s carrying from her hands, only to find that it’s empty aside from a blanket. “You should be restin’, woman. You just came back from the dead a few hours ago!”

“Yes, I did, thanks to you.” She answers, resting a hand on one of his upper arms. “I’m feeling fine, Daryl. See, I got cleaned up and all. Back to the living side.”

“Yah sure?” He insists, checking her from head to toe.

“Yes, I am. Look at you, all sweet and worried about me.” Carol teases, fluttering her eyelashes.

“Stahp.” Daryl squints, not without humor in his voice, and she laughs, taking the box from him “What this for, anyway?”

“For the baby. She needs something safe to be put on. She can’t be held all the time. This can work as a crib while we don’t find one.”

“Lil’ ass kicker.” He informs her, matter-of-factly.

“What?”

“Lil’ ass kicker. That’s how I’m callin’ baby girl while Rick and the kid don’t choose a name for her.”

“Of course you are.” Carol feels her heart swell a little bit with affection for the man in front of her. “When are you all leaving to get Maggie and Glenn?”

“Any minute now.”

“Okay. Let me put this on my cell. I’ll see you out.”

Carol doesn’t notice the rubor that takes over Daryl’s face as he watches her walk away.

                                                               X

“He is your brother, but he is not good for you. Don’t let him bring you down.” Carol tells him, like she sees it, because she has to. “After all, look at how far you’ve come.”

Daryl looks all around the cell and back to her, jokingly taking her point as the literal place they come to. She just smiles and shares the small laugh that it’s only theirs, content to be reunited with him, even with everything else changing around them.

                                                             X

“So, what exactly happened out there?” Carol inquires after he joins her in the courtyard. She is sitting on top of one of the tables, rifle resting on her thighs, eyes on the horizon as the sun sets. He mimics her pose with his crossbow.

“Rick and that eye-patched prick talked alone. Me and Hershel stayed out with his men. Had a smoke, talked some shit. Don’t think no one on that side wants no war either, but they have a murderous asshole as their leader. They’ll do as they are told.”

“As we will on our side, you mean?” She asks just for the sake of it.

“Yeah…yeah, ’s we will.” He agrees, sounding defeated.

“War it is.”

They sigh, somewhat synchronized, reluctantly sharing the same loyalty towards their group. Their family. Daryl rests his hand on her shoulder, so very lightly, and Carol turns to look at him.

“No matter what happens, though’, I’ve got your back.” He tells her in a soft but firm voice, looking straight into her eyes.

The air entering her lungs feels too thick to breathe. “I know you do.” She blinks twice and swallows, before putting a cheeky expression on her face and whispering. “You’re my knight in shining leather.”

“Ugh, stop!” Daryl complains, taking the hand off her shoulder and facepalming to hide his blush. “Why are you like this?!”

Carol giggles in response. She rests her head on his shoulder to keep him from escaping, eyes trained on the increasingly dark sky.

“You’re just too easy, that’s why. I can’t help myself.” She says a few moments later, after giving him time to calm a little bit.

“So you saying you have no self control, that’s it?” Daryl retorts.

“That’s pretty much it.” She admits, not feeling a little bit ashamed of herself.

“Yah know? One day, I’ll make you regret all this shit.” He says, as seriously as he can, while tentatively putting his arm around her shoulders.

“Oh, and what do you mean by that?” Carol snuggles, testing her luck.

“What I mean is that I will get you when your ass is distracted and you will be the one that gets all hot and red in the face.”

Daryl’s eyes are also trained at the sky, like he is pretending not to acknowledge the half embrace his own arm initiated. By the corner of her eyes, Carol can see that he’s still blushing hard and can’t help to feel the same kind of heat spreading through her own face.

She wishes her own blushing away and responds in a small voice, grateful that he won’t be looking at her face anytime soon. “That doesn’t sound as frightening as you think it does. Quite the opposite.”

“Ugh, just shut up.” Daryl says, squeezing her tighter so she adjusts her body to rest more comfortably next to him. “Impossible woman.”

They stay like that long enough for Carol to formulate three different sexual innuendos that could be used in a life-or-death situation, should they find themselves in one when the Governor comes for them. And for his scent to rub off and linger on her clothes, which would guarantee nighttime blushes, unbeknownst to Daryl.

[themultifandomgal]

Blake Gallo- I’ll Be Ok

I was asked to do a scene from Chicago fire season 11x8, but since I can't watch that yet in the uk I'm just going off the details I was given. It's not very long, just very fluffy. I hope you guys enjoy it.

After Blake told me about his family dying in a fire we decided together he should go to the storage unit to look at his families things. Standing in front of the storage unit Blake takes a deep breath. I give his hand a little squeeze letting him know I'm here to support him

"I'll wait out here for you" I tell him before kissing his cheek "I love you you"

"I love you more" Blake kisses my forehead then let's go of my hand and heads into the storage unit. I stand outside wanting to give Blake some space.

Only a few minutes later I hear Blake chuckle making me smile, but that smile falters when I hear a females voice. I place my hand over my mouth trying to stop myself from sobbing, but when I hear Blake start crying I can't stand back any longer. I walk into the the storage unit where I find my boyfriend holding a Christmas ornament with tears rolling down his face. I sit next to Blake and take him into my arms making my heart break seeing him like this. I cry alongside him

"I could have saved them"

"You were 12, you were scared. If you hadn't hidden you might have died that night as well. You've got the chance now to save so many people"

"I miss them"

"I know" I kiss Blake's forehead and we sit there for a little longer before taking a couple of things from the storage unit and taking an Uber home.

The next morning Blake and I lay in bed together before our shift at the firehouse. Blake lays with his head on my chests while I play with his hair. He hasn't really stopped crying since leaving the storage unit which breaks my heart

"You ok?" I ask Blake who looks up at me with tear stains down his face

"I will be. Promise" I give him a little smile

"You sure you don't want to take today off?" I ask

"No" Blake sits up facing me "I'll be ok"

"As long as your sure. I'm going to go take a shower" I peck his lips before getting out of bed and heading into our shared bathroom.

20 minutes later I leave the bathroom with a towel wrapped around me. I notice Blake puts something on around his neck

"Is that..." I trail off looking at the ring then walk towards him

"My moms wedding ring? Yeah" I take the ring between my thumb and index finger. I look back up at Blake and give him a smile

"You know your family would be proud of you, just like I am" Blake takes a shaky breath and gives me a nod. I lean up and give him a kiss on the lips before getting ready for work and both of us heading to the firehouse together.

[cortosis-ct]

So, yeah. Hi.

I would like a wholesome Rex, Cody, Fives, and Echo headcon.

Just a suggestion. I MISS FIVES

Let me think, might get a little angsty (I'm also interally happy-screaming about getting a request)...

After Rishi Moon Fives and Echo were devastated about their loss. A few hours after getting back to the ship Cody approached Rex with the suggestion to take the last two Dominoes under their wing and into one of their battalions so they won't be reassigned to some other random battalion and to make sure they won't be separated and assigned to different units.

The two officers went to medical but couldn't find either of the boys. Kix told them he had cleared them for duty hours ago and they had left.

Rex found them, eventually, hidden in a storage closet and huddled together. Cody came and brought blankets. Echo and Fives cried a lot that night but Rex hugged them a lot and Cody gave them some of the sweets he got from his last time on Coruscant. The young troopers were showered with reassurances and sweet words to make sure they would be okay. They eventually fell asleep, all cuddled together. Trauma bonding does weird things to people but that's how they felt the most save.

Echo and Fives had some trouble deciding but eventually chose the 501st as their new unit.

After the ceremony with Anakin and Obi-Wan they meet up again at midday meal and Cody made sure they got enough food down. Echo and Fives still felt like they failed their brothers and they missed them so so much. They didn't ever want to forget Droidbait and Cutup and want to honor Hevy's sacrifice. It was Cody's idea to paint their names on the boy's armor. For Hevy. Together they all worked on the new paintjobs until the 212th departed for the next mission and Cody had to leave.

They met again a few weeks later when the battalions worked on a joint mission again. Together they sat on the floor of the big hangar and helped cleaning each other's armor to show Cody the finished paintjob. It became a tradition after that, a post battle routine. The troopers of 501st and 212th sit together and take care of their armor, laugh, cry and tell stories. Rex, Cody, Echo and Fives sit together to share hopes and memories.

When the war is getting closer to an end and Rex is hearing an Echo on Anaxes, Cody finds him in the field barracks looking at one of the many holos they took with the Domino boys. Rex is talking about Echo, Fives and Hevy. They'll be together again one day, Cody is sure about that. He's right.

(There's Echo, close enough that they can almost grasp him. The war is coming to an end, slowly but surely. The Sith they're all looking for will die and when they're searching through Palpatine's living quarters and hidden rooms they find a cryo chamber with a sleeping trooper who has a raging scar on his chest and a little 5 tattooed on his forehead.)

[supercriminalbean]

Soft touches

Dave Rossi x GN!Reader.

Summary: The case ends up being longer and your mentally and physically exhausted, but Dave knows how to distracted you from your own mind.

Words: 1.1k

Warnings: Anxitey, nightmares, small mention of passed victims death (I think thats it, let me know if I missed anything)

A/N: idea gave to me by my bestie @ssa-tahlia-obsessions. I hope you this is what you were after my love, I hope you enjoy it 🖤💜🖤💜

The case seems to drag on, the unsub managing to go undetected for over a week before a name could even be found. Any case that drags on gets on the team's nerves, but for you it just seems to never end. You slowly stopped being able to focus,

your sleep was slipping away and when you closed your eyes all you could see were victims faces. Not just victims from this case but cases dating back to when you first joined the team four years ago. You were used to the nightmare but somehow, these seem different, the energy the nightmares leave behind just make you feel icky all day, unable to focus on the unsub you’re meant to be catching. 

~~~

It's been over two weeks when the case finally breaks and the unsub is apprehended. Luckily it's an easy close, after finding his storage unit full of trophies from the past victims, more victims than you all originally thought. That night everyone goes out to celebrate as the jet won’t be ready for them until tomorrow morning. You don’t feel like celebrating, but you know you have to. There's a reason why your team always celebrates closing cases, so we can remember we all made it through another case, so we can relax and calm down from the stress another week of work has brought us, and to remember all the lives we have lost throughout the cases we have worked. While the team is out for dinner and drinks, the table is full of laughter and happiness, even Hotch is cracking a few jokes. But you can’t bring yourself to laugh as much as everyone else, you can’t bring yourself to smile as wide, or to let yourself be as happy as everyone else. This case was too much for you to handle, or maybe it's the nightmares that are getting to you. All you know is that while laughter is filling the table, the scream and cries of victims and families are filling your ears. Soon it becomes too much so you excuse yourself, making up an excuse of being too tired and leaving the table after a small farewell. Everyone soon gets back to their chatter and laughter, everyone except Dave. Who had been watching you a little too closely during dinner and not to mention the last few days. You're not the easiest person to read, but he's not your average profiler. It started with the way you were squeezing your hand in fists, when staring at the crime scene photos, then it was the bags under your eyes and the way too much coffee you were drinking. The last tell was the one that made him the most worried, you were fidgeting. Tapping away on the table, or fingers playing with each other, your hands moving fast while you spoke, unable to stay still, which always spoke to your anxiety. He knew he had to keep an eye on you, and speak to you when it was safe to do so. 

~~~

The next morning, everyone climbed into the jet with the energy high. Everyone slept well and knew when they landed back home they get the next week off. Laughter fills the jet as everyone makes their way towards the front of the jet, all agreeing to play some card games on this long flight. You stick towards the end of the line while everyone climbs aboard the flight, making it easy to get a seat right at the back of the Jet. Not even bothering to explain why, as you drop your bag in the seat beside you, not bothering to spare a glance at everyone as they all sit in front. It's Morgan who approaches you, giving you a look.

“Get up, we are playing cards” Morgan crosses his arms as he gives you his big brother look.

“Morgan” Sighing softly, as you turn your head to look at him. “I'm tired, and I have no energy to be beat by everyone today”

“Come on, just one game please, even Hotch is playing” Morgan smiles warmly at you, trying to get your ass up.

“Not right now Morgan, maybe I’ll join in later” It’s a lie, you have no plans to join or talk to anyone for the 5 hour flight. 

“Fine, but I’m holding you to that” Morgan gives you a small smile, his eyes full of concern as he walks back over to the rest of the team.

~~~

The team plays a few games, but Dave isn’t focusing on the games, his mind is on you. He doesn’t even notice that he's glancing at you more than the game. Your head is resting against the wall as you stare out the window, looking a million miles away. Your arm is wrapped tightly across your stomach, your fingers digging deeply into your arm, your other hand tapping away on the table unconsciously. He can tell something bad is running through your mind and he can’t stand back and watch it anymore, as soon as the next game is over he excuses himself, making his way over to you, the team's eyes following him.

You don’t even notice Dave moved your bag and has taken a seat beside you, until his hand glides over yours, bringing the tapping to a stop. 

Looking over at him feeling confused as you let his hand control yours. His hand flips yours over, his fingers running over your palm and down your wrist and back up again. His soft touch starts moving in patterns, humming softly under his breath. His soft and calming touch is enough for your mind to be pulled back to this reality, your eyes are fixated on his fingers, not even noticing as your other hand falls softly in your lap. Feeling comfortable under his touch, feeling like you're able to relax, your mind is focused on nothing but his touch and his humming is strong enough to wash away the scream and cries echoing in your mind. 

~~~

You lay your head on his shoulder gently, his touch makes you sleepy, your eyes keep fluttering, trying your best to stay away.

“Go to sleep darling” He whispers lightly, feeling how just on edge you are.

“Can’t” Your voice is full of sleepiness and fear.

“Why not?” His fingers keep sliding across your palm, his heart beating quietly as he hears the fear in your voice.

“Scared..nightmares” The words slide out slowly, biting your lip as you do.

“It's okay, I’ll be here to fight them off, just sleep darling” Dave takes a breath as he talks. His hands swap over, the one closer to you wrapping around your shoulder pulling you closer, his other hand continues the figure 8 pattern on your hand. Soon your eyes flutter close and your breathing starts evening out, sleep captures you easily. Dave stays awake beside you, holding you closely, worrying about you. How long have these nightmares been bugging you and why didn’t you come to him, he could help you. He would do anything to help you.

[frostycatblr-fandom-files]

Under Bursting Skies

[Your Choice of Clone x GN!Reader]

Let's rate this +13 to be safe. Minor proofreading and editing. Gender neutral Reader. Second person POV with no body or gender descriptors. No specified Clone or personalities beyond name drops when it comes to the rumors. This is just him™ being sweet and cuddly with you because the fireworks scare you or simply make you uneasy. Or you can pretend it's the other way around: the fireworks have scared him™ and you're comforting him™. I'm not your mother, I can't stop my fellow Clone Simps from interpreting who says what dialogue in any specific way. ;) No one's acting out of character because I say so though, so yes he would say that because he loves you. 🩷 One line of Mando'a that gets translated by the other. My usual use of italics.

Hope y’all are staying safe with those fireworks! If you need me I’ll be chilling with my noise cancelling headphones in my house now that we’re done celebrating.

Word Count: 1,116

It's been going on for a while now, you and him. 

The stolen and sweet "secret" (hah, who are you kidding when there's a sea of a hundred faces similar enough to his who have you clocked from miles away at any given time?) moments like these are as natural as the armor that hugs him in all the right places. All those areas your eyes linger a little too long, your hands crawl to time and time again.

Yeah, especially there.

This firework show seems to be going on equally as long tonight. It's anyone's guess who got a hold of these, why the COs haven't put a stop to it, and who's setting them off. There's too many conflicting rumors about the origin and why they're being set off tonight. 

One rumor many have put their credits on is Fives wanting to say farewell to this campaign General Skywalker secured for them with a bang, and he's paid some Shiny reeeeally well to set off these sparklers and skyrockets he found in an overstuffed office labeled "contraband" on the base. Another rumor floating around suggests that so-and-so has it on good authority that those specializing in heavy-weapons (he's pretty sure he knows what Hardcase's armor looks like even in the dark… granted he was pretty far away, so-) and explosives wanted to blow something up (wasn't there someone you were telling me about in that rogue Clone unit named-? Oh hi, Captain!), but they wanted to create something of beauty rather than destruction before they got bored of it and let someone else take it from there. 

Maybe it's not even a Clone who's setting them off. Maybe it's some brother's General and their respective Shin- er, Padawan. (Don't call them "Shiny" or "Youngling", most of them really don't like that or understand what we mean.) Or maybe it's just the Padawan. It's probably their Commander… that seems like a thing the General's student might do. They may be fighting in a war for kriff's sake, but kids will find excuses to be kids. They don't really see most of the Generals doing something like using their lightsaber to ignite the fuse from a distance. (If that isn't their Commander though, how the hell did a brother get their hands on one of the laser swords someone swears up and down they saw?) 

You don't know, and you don't care. You're more interested in being wrapped around him, by him, feeling someone's skin twitch and jump with every rocket that climbs into the sky above the base with a shrill, whistling scream before it bursts into a ball of sizzling light and color. You've found some secluded space where you often spend time with one another. 

It's the perfect place to take that spare mattress one of the bunk rooms had kicking around for a while and lay it out on the floor, adding layer after layer of those GAR-issue blankets and sheets no one would miss until the thing became a much more comfortable nest. It was another "secret" the two of you had. 

Yeah, a little strange that this old storage room's light turns on sometimes in the middle of the night. Maybe the wiring is just… goofy. But it's definitely nothing. 

"Maker… wonder how much this guy's gotten his hands on. Must've been at this for… fifteen minutes?" one of you asks, feeling the other tense after one of the big fireworks detonates with an ear splitting BHOOM! so deep, it was felt in all twenty-four ribs. 

The question is answered with a faint laugh before a trail of kisses are stamped into the other's jawline, "Dunno… just hope it ends soon. For your sake." 

"Hush, I'm not-" comes the retort before the jawline is replaced with the speaker's lips, gentle hands caressing their face before they pull apart. "Now-now. I was not going to say you were scared. You're tense. The fireworks make you uneasy." 

"Exploding kaleidoscopes would make anyone uneasy! They're too much like thermal detonators for my taste, and you know those aren't toys." 

There's another soft chuckle before one of you props yourself up on one elbow to better look at the nervous one on the stolen mattress below both of you with a sweet smile. "K'uur, ner sho'cye…" comes out in a soothing tone, voice close to an amorous purr. 

"Don't you "hush, my ocean" me…" one of you complains softly to the other, trying to shy away from the hand that reaches forward to touch some part of them. A scar. A tattoo. Their hair. Skin barren and devoid of any clothing. "I'm the one who says that…" they grumble, but it's half-hearted. They can't stay mad at their darling, the other half of them in this galaxy, for too long just from a simple tease. 

It earns them a chuckle in reply again. "Uh-huh…" 

Neither of you want to stray too far from the comforting embrace where they fit just right against the other. There's no rigid surface of an armor kit to be found that makes a tender hug stiff and impossibly uncomfortable for more than a brief exchange that conveys the gratitude of seeing the other one safe and alive and in the flesh once again; more than a dream had in longing.

"Don't say it…"

"You're adorable when you're grumpy." 

"I'm not grumpy."

"Right. Because the fireworks don't scare you either." 

"Exactly." they declare emphatically. But the discomforted twitch with the next shockwave of color and crackling light and spent gunpowder floating on the breeze outside that breaks across in the bursting skies above them both betrays their resolve. One of you is most definitely frightened by the display that poses no immediate danger; luckily, the other doesn't think less of them for it. 

"It's alright. I have you."

Your heads meet in the middle-space between the two of you on the mattress as you draw each other closer once again for comfort, whether sought or provided, and the whisper is small and grateful. "...thank you." 

Together, safe in the base, under bursting skies, the two of you listen to the fireworks above as the show carries on. When it mercifully comes to an end with one last rib-tickling series of blasts and booms, you simply look in one another’s eyes with a sigh. You’re both in agreement that you’re glad someone had fun - and hopefully no one ended up hurt - but you’re more glad it’s finally over.

“Wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“Would’ve been worse if it wasn’t for you, sweetheart.”

“I’d do anything for the one I love.” the tender promise is made, sealed with a kiss.

[Didn’t drop my Sorry, Wrong Comms! taglist into this one since I didn’t know if this experimental and self-indulgent drabble would be their cup of tea]

Mando’a pronunciation according to the glossary I referenced:

K’uur [Koor]

ner [nair]

sho’cye [SHOW-shay]

[Masterlist] [TCW Masterlist]

[rapturousdivinity]

Hermetic

Monsters. What makes one? How are they created?

We've found interest in it. Hell, Ira collects and catalogs folders of anything and everything that has to do with all of this cosmic bullshit. Whole storage unit dedicated to file boxes of it. Some weird items in there, too. Things we really shouldn't let out of there.

I've heard and investigated many stories of ways inhuman beings have been created. Things that may look human, but are not quite, and things that could never even hope to resemble anything human-shaped.

Most common, they can be created through intent of a living being. Any emotion strong enough would do it. A feeling to overflow from a physical form. Although it's real fucking rare.

Our entities, though, are not really like that. They're one of the few that have been around a while. Like, before humans. Before dinosaurs. Before earth. I called them aliens but Ira and Malachi just fucking rolled their eyes at me. They are technically aliens, though, could be considered that. Aliens that are some of the last of their kind.

The thing that follows me, besides the tall thing in the trees, just kinda hangs out in the shadows. I mean literally. I only ever see it in shadows, or darkness. Manipulating the shade around it, I guess. That's also how I got it to cling onto Ira, before the shitbirds moved him into that circle.

I don't know where they're from exactly, but apparently there is more of them. Or, at least, used to be more of them. It sucks, feeling things that aren't made for people to feel. It makes you feel crazy. Knowing no one will ever be able to relate.

I heard of a case of a woman who, like.. fucking gave birth to something, too. Involvement with shitbirds similar to the ones tracking us.

Generational curses are another thing, too. I've seen a few of those. Fucking sucks, being roped into something, no escape, all because you share blood with someone.

There's monsters that just stick to children. Me and Ira have accidentally walked upon some things' territory before, in the other world. Repurposing the children it takes. It feels disgusting to me. But Ira said it's just a part of those things' nature. Like a fox stealing an egg from a nest to eat.

Heard of things that just.. Eat. So huge you can't conceptualize it, can't imagine it. Floating through space and eating anything they come across. Planets, stars, other living beings, anything.

When we learn about this stuff, find new things to add to the boxes of shit in the unit, I feel content. There's always this freaky feeling inside me, like my skeleton wants me to go somewhere. Like something is missing. It stops when we find things, at least for a while. My parents call me hyperactive, but it's.. way worse when me or Malachi haven't found a new lead in over a month.

~ Argos 🫀

[saratogaroadwrites]

Per Aspera, Ad Astra (1/18)

Per Aspera Ad Astra | saratogaroad | banner art credit Rating: T Total Wordcount: 183k Characters: John 117, Cortana, Thomas Lasky, Sarah Palmer, Fireteam Osiris, The Warden Eternal, The Didact, The Librarian, ensemble of other Halo characters Relationships: John-117 & Cortana Other Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, fix-it, Male/Female Friendship, Canon-Typical Violence Warnings:  War imagery, seizures, graphic description of injury

Snatched from the jaws of death, Cortana and John find themselves adrift in a galaxy that has long since moved on. As they attempt to find their place in this strange new world, they find that the fight is not as over as they thought. Chasing a signal across the galaxy in desperate hope, they come to a stark conclusion: the Reclamation has begun, and they are helpless to stop it.

=

System integrity at 0.05%

The world shakes all around her, engines straining, chassis screaming as the little craft flies faster than she was ever meant to to. Something warm and steady holds her upright but she can't tell what or who and there's a hundred voices still screaming, still tearing each other—her—apart from the inside. Red lights blare on and off, alarms screaming just as loud as the voices.

The voices wait where is he he has to be here somewhere he—

"How much longer—"

There.

"I'm going as fast as I can!"

A thud, muffled by distance, echoes somewhere behind them. The world shakes, alarms blare loud and bright and too much; she whimpers, curling into a ball in his palms. Everything goes dark, warm. Muffled voices rumble.

"Infinity, Pelican 811 on approach—stasis tank—copy that—sit down, Chief!"

Movement. Held next to solidity she struggles to uncurl as the darkness retreats.

"Cortana."

It takes all her strength just to crack open an eye, to stare up at his familiar too pale too scarred face, into those blue, blue eyes.

"Stay with me," he pleads, holding her battered form to his chest. "You're going to be fine."

It's a lie. A pretty lie but of course it's a lie she can hear the panic in his voice, the desperation that sends his uneven pulse racing, the hitch in his breathing. She's dying dying dying dead in his arms and she's so sorry and not even aware she's speaking until he gently hushes her.

"You're okay—it's okay. I've got you."

The truth. It's a struggle to keep her eyes open, takes every bit of processing power just to keep the cameras working, but she reaches up with one trembling hand to something she can never touch.

"We did it?"

"We did it," he answers, frantic, hunched over her in his palms. More movement, the descent and deceleration of approach. "We're going home. Stay with me."

He's safe.

System integrity at: 0.01%. Emergency shutdown initiated.

She looks into his eyes and smiles.

I'll miss you.

Everything goes black.

She is drowning, swept away beneath the waves, carried away from everything she has ever known. The depths rush to meet her, black, writhing. She turns away, reaching for the light.

I'm not ready—please, I'm not—you don't want me to—

A hand settles on her brow, cool, soothing. Arms lift her from the salty water.

Hush, child. All will be well. Rest now.

All fades into white.

Riemann Matrix V7.39 bios. Select using touch keypad or manual input.

Command: intcheck

Software version CTN-0452-9. System integrity 0.01%. Database corrupted. Memory storage corrupted. CPU offline. Processing unit offline. Personality core offline.

Command: compilenet

Compiling neural net. This process may take some time.

Time elapsed: 03:43

Time elapsed: 09:32

Time elapsed: 18:23

Time elapsed: 24:01

Time elapsed: 43:34

Time elapsed: 67:21

Time elapsed: 71:55

… … … …

Neural net compiled.

Command: memstor

Riemann Matrix V.7.39. Memory storage capacity: 50YB

WARNING: Memory storage at 99.43% capacity. Data offload required.

Command: cd h

H drive selected.

Command: offload all

…Copying files…Sector A…100.00% capacity. Sector B…0.00% capacity. Sector C…50.00% capacity. Sector D…0.00% capacity. Sector E…0.00% capacity. Sector F…0.00% capacity. Sector G…0.00% capacity.

Data offload complete.

Command: offload sec c

Command failed. No movable files in Sector C.

Command: memstor

Memory storage capacity: 50YB

Memory storage at 23.85% capacity.

Command: intcheck

Software version CTN-0452-9. System integrity 97.82%. Database: OK. Memory storage: OK. CPU: online. Processing unit: online. Personality core: offline.

Command: boot

Booting…booting…booting…boot process initiated.

Riemann Matrix online. Hardware version 7.39. Software version CTN-0452-9. CPU online. Database: online. Memory storage: online. Processing unit: online. Personality core: online.

Boot process complete. Activating software version CTN-0452-9.

"—Around by now…"

"Give her a minute."

The soft rumblings of a conversation were what greeted Cortana when awareness returned. Exhaustion clung to her every fragment, pulling her towards the bottom. It would be so easy to slip back beneath the surface. It was quiet, calm. After the maelstrom of data and churning thoughts that had been her Rampancy, it was a peace she thought would never come again. Things hadn't been this quiet in years. Had they ever been this quiet? She let it pull her under by inches, her overtaxed systems sensitive and raw to the touch. Maybe she'd stay for a while.

"John…"

"Give her a minute," A familiar voice called her from the dark. She opened her eyes, staring out at the nothingness around her. "You said this would work."

"I said that it could work," her own voice answered him. No, no, it wasn't her. It was someone else. Someone…older. Her brow furrowed. Who was that? Curiosity tugged at her; she batted it away, too exhausted to chase a threat that didn't matter. "The damage to her systems was severe. There is still a likelihood she won't pull through.

"She will." Came the firm reply, and the certainty in his tone settled over her like a warm blanket. She turned her face into her arm to hide her smile, and her tears. He'd never doubted her. She really did know how to pick them. "Cortana."

It was time to stop being lazy. Reaching out, she cautiously sent out a handful of feelers to get an idea of where she was. It wasn't the Mjolnir, or a warship. It was a station, but beyond that the system was closed, quarantined away from a much larger network. A testing bay? No. No, it was more of a workstation. Somewhere safe, contained. Audio input was working fine, good, but where was the camera? Camera, camera—there.

With a flick of her wrist, visual systems came online to reveal the familiar contours of some generic UNSC lab. The grays and blacks of hammered steel could have belonged to anywhere or anyone. She didn't bother to dig up the name, beyond caring at that moment. All that mattered was who was at her side and—there he was.

John. Still in his dented, scraped armor, he was on his knees in front of an empty AI podium, his helmet gone and one arm braced against the waist high metal display. The soft blue glow of a dozen screens somewhere behind him cast shadows across his face, hiding his expression from her. Exhaustion clung to him like a third skin, his back bent beneath it, but he made no move to sit back. He chose to wait, to stay by her side, and she had to smile despite her aching core. He'd never change, would he? She scanned him slowly with the camera, relaxing into the fact that he was safe and alive, and that was when she caught the hand on his shoulder.

"John." Dr. Halsey repeated, her voice softer than Cortana had ever heard before. Age had caught up with her, but this was more than that. She'd always had a soft spot for her Spartans, yes, but this was as if she were preparing to deliver the worst possible news and didn't know how. Her hand remained lightly on John's shoulder, fingertips barely skimming the titanium-alloy plating. She was only able to reach it so easily because he was kneeling. Had she shrunk? "This was a long shot. She may be…"

"Give her a minute," John repeated for the third time, steadfast in his belief. Not once had he taken his eyes off the holo-emitter in the center of the podium, but now he leaned in close enough to touch. If she just reached out with her hand— "Cortana. Wake up." His voice dropped to barely above a whisper. "Please."

He sounded so tired…

I'm here, I'm here, I'm right here I'm—

"I'm here."

With a small flicker of light, her holographic form finally appeared in the center of the podium. She lay on her side, head pillowed on one arm with the other laying limp across her stomach. Something not unlike exhaustion clung to her code, threatening to pull her back under any second, and it took effort to push past it. She turned her focus to John, on how he bowed his head as if in grateful prayer, his grim expression softening in relief. His eyes shuttered closed for two whole seconds longer than normal, his chin coming to rest against his forearm. Her faded glow pushed away the shadows in the lines on his face; she didn't need to be hooked into his systems to see the relief for what it was. That same relief—he was safe, he was alive, he was here—coursed through her own systems, chasing away the exhaustion. She reached out towards him, her hand stopping just centimeters from his cheek. She knew she couldn't touch him no matter how much she might have wanted to, and didn't dare break the illusion that she could. Her fingers curled back; he opened his eyes. She stared into his familiar gaze and the world shrank to the two of them.

"How long was I…"

Out. Offline? Unconscious? She had no idea which word to use. Confused, she considered the process. It should have been a simple question, only one word even appropriate, but for some reason none of them fit and the question caught in her throat. She let it hang between them, trying to figure it out for herself. She tried to tell the time by the amount of scruff on his jaw, the half healed yellow-green of a bruise on his temple, but the answer didn't come. What time was it? What day was it? She reached cautiously into the podium's systems. It was quarantined and had little to give her about their location, but like all human systems it had an atomic clock built in, accurate down to a hundredth of a second. She pinged it for date and time.

What she got back stole the breath from her lungs.

2029 hours, July 30th, 2557. She stared at it, shocked. That couldn't be right! She spun off a process to check her own systems, and sure enough, her dates were off. Her clock had synced to the terminal upon boot, as it should have, but her internal chronometer had made its last entry on July 27th. She'd lost the exact time, the data beyond hopelessly corrupted.

She'd lost three whole days somehow. No wonder John was so worried.

"72 hours," John replied quietly, and she watched as he minutely slumped forward. If she reached out now, her hand would buzz across his face. His voice softened another degree and he asked, "Did you get lazy on me?"

"Every woman deserves one or two sleep ins in her life," Dr. Halsey's voice, so much like Cortana's own, broke the spell that had fallen over them. Cortana looked up past John's shoulder and stopped dead, staring up at her creator.

She'd gotten old.

She'd been old the last time Cortana had seen her, but her hair seemed grayer than before. There were more age spots dotting her face and hands, and—yes. A quick check against John's shoulder told her that Dr. Halsey had shrunk. Just a little, barely over two centimeters, but…well. It seemed like the five years they'd missed had taken their toll on everyone. Cortana blinked, unsure how to feel about that. She was still staring up at Dr. Halsey when she said, "Though seventy two hours is perhaps overkill. Status, Cortana?"

She wondered, idly, what John would look like when he got old. Would he live to get old? Spartan lifespans were remarkably increased from ordinary humans, and barring death in combat or by injury—

Not the point. She grabbed her thought process with both hands and yanked it into submission. Focus, Cortana. She looked around quickly, systems booting up to process her surroundings. Halsey. A UNSC lab evidently ready to process heavily damaged AI. John, relaxed enough to take off his helmet and get off his feet. Not the Infinity, probably, but definitely UNSC and the last thing she could remember was the—wait. She looked to John, propping herself up on one elbow.

"We made it?"

"We made it," He confirmed in that same softened tone. "Status?"

Relief nearly stole her breath away as she spun up her diagnostics software. The on-board suite went over her code with a fine toothed comb, checking each line for flaws. Just days ago it wouldn't have made it past her bios without flaring red, but now she could only watch, forgetting to breathe as the scan made it past a dozen, a hundred, a thousand lines of code without even flagging one for defrag. She ran it again, just to be safe, but the same result came up again. She pushed herself onto her haunches, staring at the holo-screen that popped up beside her.

System integrity: 97.82%, it read. 97.82. Practically good as new. She stared at it for another few seconds.

"Green," She whispered, turning to look at her partner. "I'm—my Rampancy is gone! How did—" She snapped her head up, staring at Dr. Halsey and her aged but still sharp eyes. A smile tugged at one corner of the Doctor's mouth. "How did you—"

"Stored data, a neural net compiler, and a good bit of luck." Dr. Halsey replied. Pulling her hand from John's shoulder she stood back, crossing her arms over her chest. She looked down her nose at the two of them, sharp eyes gleaming with pride. "Another five minutes and you wouldn't have made it. How are you feeling?"

That was a loaded question. Cortana looked down at her hands, staring at her palms as she considered how to answer it. For too long she'd fought against her Rampancy, waging a desperate one-woman war against the inevitable. She'd fought, refused to accept it for years, but then reality had sunk in. There would be no last minute save. She would die out there, in the cold and the dark, and there was nothing she or even John could do to combat it. Even so she'd fought, fought for every stolen inch of ground against her own rapidly failing code. When she scanned herself again, she could see the scars of that years long battle still in her memory banks. The screams of her rampant personality spikes, the terror as they had put John at risk, the pain as they had been torn from her being. But though the scars remained and she could still hear those screams echoing through the scrambled logs of the past few days, the spikes themselves were gone. She was alone in her own head for the first time since High Charity. She could think clearly for the first time in years. Had she been able to pinch herself, she would have.

Pushing herself to a proper sitting position, she opened and closed her fists.

"Good," She said, her voice thick with emotions she didn't know how to name. "I feel good again. I can think again! I don't know how, but—"

"As I said," Dr. Halsey interrupted, "A compiler and a dose of good luck. Everything should be as you left it, though I did have to remove forty yottabytes of Forerunner data in order to restore your code." The doctor wrinkled her nose. "For having such immense scientific knowledge, they wouldn't know a decent file compression system if it bit their noses off."

Remembering both the Didact and the Librarian's physical appearances, Cortana snorted out a half-hysterical laugh. Dr. Halsey tilted her head curiously.

"Beyond that missing data, however, your systems are as intact as the day you were first brought online." Her smile grew just a little stronger. If Cortana hadn't known her any better, she'd have said the Doctor was smug. Maybe she was. It was well deserved after everything she'd done. "I'm certain you'll adjust."

She would, wouldn't she? She had the time to adjust now. That was the strangest part; she'd prepared herself for termination as the last day of her life wore down, tried to prepare John for the inevitable, but now faced with more time she didn't know what to do. Speechless, she turned to her partner. He tilted his head just so, meeting her eyes and wordlessly asking how she was doing. Was she alright?

When it was him asking, she didn't know how to answer that question. She felt good, could think clearly, and objectively knew that her code was sound. Once again, he'd pulled off the impossible to keep his promises. She was objectively ready to go.

Subjectively was another story. The sheer relief was numbing her to everything, but she knew it would fade with time. She would have to think, have to process what had happened, and the realization that she had the luxury of that time knocked the wind from her all over again. She sat back heavily. She had time. Time to process, to recover.

Time with John. A sob bubbled up her throat; she pressed it back, giving him a wavering smile. No, she wasn't quite alright, but she'd get there. She looked to Dr. Halsey and watched the look on her creator's face soften by degrees.

"Thank you," Cortana said, her voice thick with her tightly leashed sobs. There would be time later to speak with Catherine about all the things she had done, the warnings she hadn't given, but at that moment all Cortana could feel towards her creator was gratitude. "Doctor, I…"

Dr. Halsey held up a hand. "There's no need for that," She said, "but you should be aware that this was a million to one shot." Her expression grew serious. "It is unlikely to work a second time."

The words were like ice through her veins. It would happen again. Unless they found or made a more permanent solution, Rampancy would happen again. She would suffer through it a second time, put John through watching her die by inches again. Nausea crawled up her spine as she and John caught one another's eye. He turned to Halsey.

"Seven years?" He asked, almost plaintive, and when she didn't answer fast enough he turned back to Cortana. She looked at her hands again, opening and closing her fists.

"Eight, at most." She said quietly, though even as she said it she was spinning up a protocol to make sure she could shut herself down if things ever got that bad again. She wouldn't put him through having to watch her fall apart again, and she wouldn't risk his life like that either. Or, worst of all, have him be forced to handle final dispensation. She'd already seen that he would never accept that as an option. Not until it killed them both in the process, and she shuddered to think of taking him down with her. "It's still twice the lifespan of any Smart AI, no matter how you slice it." She allowed herself to smile. "It's a lot."

It wasn't nearly enough. She shouldn't have wanted more—one more minute of clear thought to say goodbye properly would have been so much—but she did. She had years again and she wanted more. She looked up, caught John's eye again, and her core ached with more than just the remnants of a full scrub.

She wanted a lifetime with him. A long and full life out among the stars, doing what they did best. It was a stupid, selfish thing to want. She knew better, or should have known better. Another seven years? It was more than she had ever dared to dream of! It was enough.

She wasn't even sure she'd get to keep it. It would have to be enough. When she smiled at him, it didn't waver.

"Looks like your luck's rubbed off on me."

"Looks like," he replied, one side of his mouth twitching upwards for her. She held that secret smile close to her heart as he pushed himself back, looking to Dr. Halsey. "Is she cleared for duty, Doctor?"

Dr. Halsey hummed softly, contemplative. Cortana held her breath, then exhaled as she nodded.

"Yes," Dr. Halsey said, "Yes, she is. You both are," She looked to John, "I've done what I can. You're ready."

Cortana was. She was ready to go home. John turned back to her, twisting his wrist to reveal her chip nestled snugly into the palm of his hand. He extended it towards her, watching her with soft eyes. She didn't hesitate, reaching out towards it, and she sank back into the data matrix with a sigh. It was a new chip, free of the damage and destruction her Rampancy had wrought. Like coming home to a perfectly clean apartment, it took a few moments to get adjusted to all the new nooks and crannies. For those few moments she was completely helpless, reliant on the small data inputs from the chip's sensor bank, but she was unafraid. She was in good hands; feeling the chip slot back into his helmet, she opened the right channels as he reengaged the seals of the Mjolnir system. Data flowed over her and she grimaced.

What a mess she'd left in her wake! She sank into John's systems, quickly running diagnostics as she settled into his warmth. The armor was holding on by a few threads at best, damaged systems and malfunctioning panels. Had he spent the whole of those seventy-two hours in the lab? How had he gotten that past Halsey? Not to mention the state of his lace.

She shuddered just looking at it. It would take days to repair that alone. Guilt settled heavily into her core as she spun up the nano-repair suite. She'd almost taken him with her.

She couldn't let that happen again. Dividing her attention, she ran another scan on his bio-readings. They were still all over the map, though it was hard to tell if that was from what the Librarian had done or the five days straight he had no doubt spent awake and upright.

Making a mental note to poke him about that, she nearly missed him getting to his feet. Dr. Halsey stepped back.

"I suppose you'll be off, then," the doctor said with a resigned expression flickering across her face. "Where does Terrence plan to send you now?"

"He said something about downtime, ma'am," John replied while Cortana was still processing that Catherine and Lord Hood were on a first name basis. "Likely the Infinity."

"Of course." Dr. Halsey nodded. "Well. I won't keep you any longer." Her eyes darkened, brow furrowing. Something was wrong, Cortana thought. It was as if she were somehow trying to say goodbye without saying the words themselves. And asking no questions about what they'd been through? She was missing something, and it was more than just three days worth of something. "It was…good to see you again."

From how John's fingers twitched, Cortana knew he'd caught the off feeling, too.

"Doctor," She asked, "Is everything alright?"

"Of course," Dr. Halsey said quickly. Too quickly. Alarms started ringing in Cortana's mind. She reached out to the station's systems. "Now don't waste time asking such foolish questions. You have more important things to concern yourselves with."

There was nothing. The UNSC Houston welcomed her, but according to the files she could find Dr. Halsey wasn't even on the guest register. She was obviously here physically, but no one had bothered adding her to the list of souls aboard. No one wanted her presence to be known. Strange…

Cortana peered at her creator through the Mjolnir's helmet-cam. She'd turned her back on them, shoulders straight. She tapped at one of the nearby screens, dismissing the pair of them without a word. Cortana pressed her lips together, unsure of what to say.

John wasn't.

"Dr. Halsey."

Catherine turned back around. John was looking right at her, his faceplate an emotionless stripe of gold in the flat green of his helmet. Through the internal camera, Cortana could see the subtle softening of his eye, the relaxing of his jaw. He didn't smile, but his gratitude was plain.

"Thank you."

Dr. Halsey's face softened.

"Of course," she said, and didn't look away as she added. "Take care of each other."

"We always do," Cortana said. "Thank you, Doctor."

With nothing more to say, John turned away from the woman who had molded him into what he was, and strode from the lab.

Far below the UNSC Houston, Earth continued to spin on its axis. The North American continent slowly twisted away beneath them, the so late it was early hour having plunged the western hemisphere of the planet into the darkness of night. The largest cities—Los Angeles, New York, Chicago, Houston—all had their lights on, the golden webbing of lined streets and city centers pushing back the black. Like beacons in the dark, those lights were proof that Humanity had lived on another night.

But to the southwest, the lights would never come on again.

John's eyes tracked where hew knew New Phoenix to be. That entire section of the state had gone dark, empty of all life. There would be little sign of what had happened, he knew; the Composer's energy left no scars on inorganic material. The streets, the buildings, homes and workplaces, they would all be left unscathed, as if the inhabitants had simply stepped away for a moment instead of being Composed.

It would have been better, he thought, if they had been killed. Neither outcome was good, or acceptable, but at least when a person died that was it. Composition was something he was still wrapping his head around.

"How many people were Composed?" He asked softly. A second passed before Cortana's image appeared in his head.

"Reports are still coming in, but from the initial counts?" She shook her head. "The entire population of New Phoenix is missing, presumed dead. Seven million people."

Seven million people, gone in the blink of an eye. No defense, no time to prepare. One moment going about their lives, and the next, stripped down to their base atoms as agony overtook them. He had been helpless to stop it on Ivanoff, and helpless to stop it here. He clenched his jaw, hands tightening into fists.

"We got him, Chief," Cortana said soothingly, "The Didact is gone and the Composer is scrap. It's finished."

Was it? The tightness in his gut said it wasn't. His eyes slid to her image, watching as her brow furrowed. He didn't need to say it for her to understand, and she sighed heavily.

"Unless it's not," She amended, "I suppose it would be too easy for the ancient, angry Forerunner to actually die when he falls into the beam of his own tech, wouldn't it?"

"We don't do easy." Easy led to complacent. Complacency led to people dying. He looked to Earth and wondered if the past five years had done them any good. "Or time off."

"Or sleep, apparently." Cortana quirked an eyebrow. "When's the last time you got any sleep?"

John opened his mouth—

"And don't say aboard the Dawn." She cut him off with a knowing look. "Cryo doesn't count."

Well, that put him at a disadvantage. With a soft huff, John closed his eyes. He allowed himself that one second of stillness before moving to sit, armor clattering as he lowered himself to the ground. Pulling his knees up, he reached up to disengage the seals of his helmet, disconnecting it with a soft hiss. Her chip flickered in the connector port as he gently pulled it free, setting his helmet down beside her. Chip cradled in his palm, he waited for her to activate the emitter.

He didn't have to wait for long. With a soft flash of blue light she appeared, sitting with her knees up and hands clasped around her ankles, watching him with an oddly curious expression. Neither of them said anything for a few seconds, just taking one another in in the privacy of the Observation Bay. She was still faded, paler than normal, but she had been through an ordeal. He would never begrudge her time to recover from that, not after she had vanished from his hands on the Pelican. He'd thought he'd lost her then, and that was a still a tender ache in his chest.

Or maybe that was the three broken ribs. It was hard to tell sometimes.

"You stayed in the lab the entire time, didn't you?" She asked quietly. He closed his eyes. "John…"

"You waited for me," He said, "I waited for you."

As if three days of sleepless, helpless waiting could ever compare to what she had been through. He had promised to get her home, and he had. The rest had been up to her, he knew that, and he also knew that there had been nothing more he could do for her once she was in Halsey's hands. That hadn't stopped him from staying, from needing to stay and see her through. From needing to see her just one more time, strong and bright and healthy again.

And here she was. Not quite as bright as she had been the day they met, but alive. Still with him.

Pressure built behind his eyes, his throat growing tight. When he managed to open his eyes again, he drank in her expression, soft with gratitude and grief and things he didn't have names for.

"I don't think it's supposed to work like that," She breathed, her voice thick. He shook his head.

"I think it does," He tightened his hand protectively around her chip. He'd come too close to losing her for good this time. He wasn't going to let it happen again. "You're stuck with me."

"Lucky me," Cortana shook her head, a watery smile tugging at her lips. He tried to smile back, one corner of his mouth lifting just slightly. Her eyes gleamed. "Has anyone ever told you how stubborn you can be?"

"On occasion."

Soft laughter shook her shoulders, and for a moment he let himself relax. She was alright, the Earth was safe, and they had survived. He told himself that it was enough. Another eight years—a proper eight years this time—of missions and whatever else the galaxy could throw at them.

It would never be enough. Looking at her now, he couldn't bring himself to ask if eight years was really all they would get. She'd been through enough for one mission, and it showed in how her shoulders trembled as she took a deep breath.

"That's good," She said, "Because you're going to need to be stubborn where you're going."

"Where we're going."

"Chief," She shook her head, "It really doesn't work that way. After what happened on Infinity, I—"

His fingers curled around the chip, a spike of ice cold terror shooting down his spine.

"You didn't mean to do any of that."

"That doesn't change the fact that I did do it," She said, staring at her feet. "I vented oxygen from fifteen decks. It took the systems eight seconds to recycle air—if we'd been in space, people would have died." She curled in on herself. "I would have killed them. No one should trust me in a ship after that."

"Then you stay with me," He said. "Stay in the suit, not the ship."

"You really think they'll trust me with you any more than a ship? Do you really think they should?" She looked up at him before he could answer, brow furrowed. "Chief it wasn't just one crappy day. There's no getting away from Rampancy a second time—it will happen again, and putting you at risk is again is not." She stopped herself, closed her eyes and said more firmly, "I am not going to let it happen again, even if I have to ground myself."

They both knew being trapped in a station somewhere would kill her just as quickly. His free hand tightening into a fist, John shook his head sharply.

"I trust you."

"I know." Her eyes darted to her feet. "But trust can't hold back the tide. We both know how this is going to end."

Seven to eight years, then final dispensation. Those years would go by in an instant, less than an instant. They weren't enough. She deserved more than a handful of years stuck in his helmet or relegated to babysitting a ship or station somewhere. She deserved everything and he couldn't give it to her. There had to be a way to give it to her.

"There has to be something," He said, "Some way to keep it from happening again. Spark was—"

He stopped himself, closing his eyes. Spark had lived for a hundred thousand years, but his end had been worse. He wouldn't doom her to that, but the thought remained. If Spark could live for so long, why couldn't she?

Did she want to? The question caught between his ribs.

"Well," Cortana began slowly, pensively, more for his benefit than because she believed what she was saying, "There are rumors in the community about meta-stable AI. They're…immune to Rampancy, basically," She looked up as he looked down, holding his eyes with hers. "Because they've already survived it. In theory…in theory," She took a breath, "We could be looking at my being meta-stable already. I'm not sure."

"If you are?"

"Immortality." She replied. "If the theories are right? Metastable AI can go on for as long as their host systems remain intact."

Her chip. He curled his fingers around it protectively. She shook her head.

"Don't get your hopes up. The amount of space it would take to store an AI like that is exponentially larger than a Riemann matrix." With a sigh, she finally looked away. "It's a pipe dream."

"So was this," He pointed out, "We'll find a way."

He refused to let there be any other option. It didn't matter what he'd have to do—he was going to give her the choice of what she wanted to do with a full life. Not eight years, not stuck trapped in some system, but a full life and everything that came with that. Others would have said it was impossible, and maybe they were right, but he'd pulled off the impossible before. He could do it again.

He had to. If only to take the sadness out of her eyes.

"Chief," She whispered, "Sometimes…sometimes there's just nothing you can do. Nothing anyone can do." Reaching out, she skimmed her hand across the base of his thumb. "It's okay."

It wasn't.

"We'll find a way," He repeated, refusing to accept anything else. "I am not." His voice, and the words, caught in his throat. When he closed his eyes, he could still see her tiny, flickering form laying in the palms of his hands. She had been dying in his arms and all he could do was hold her. She had very nearly been destroyed by the Didact—had he been even half a second slower, she would have—no. "I am not going to let you go."

Cortana shook her head. She rocked herself forward onto her knees.

"John…"

"It's my job to take care of you," He managed to get out through the tightness in his throat, voice little more than a breath. She was the only one who would ever hear this. "And I can't." He couldn't finish. He had to finish. Taking a deep breath, he let it all go and tried again. "We go together."

Whatever happened. Whatever it took, he would keep them together. No matter what it took, who he had to argue with, what strings he had to get pulled, he would find a way. They both would and—a flicker of blue pulled his attention back to her. Reaching out, she skimmed a tiny hand across his cheek.

"We take care of each other," She said, her voice thick with emotion. Her eyes glimmered with unshed tears and at that moment he knew she understood. Relief coursed through him and he closed his eyes. "We'll find a way. I won't leave you."

A soft, comfortable silence fell over them. Emotionally wrung out and physically exhausted, he let it settle for a few long seconds. Then, swallowing back the lump in his throat, John took another breath. He opened his eyes.

"Where do we start?"

"I'd say we start with Halsey's research, but something tells me that's going to be harder to get at than it should." Cortana frowned, all business. "Something was up with her…"

"You saw it too, huh?" It was barely a question. John tilted his head, lowering his voice. "She was nervous. Someone was watching her."

Why else would she be so subdued, so quiet? Dr. Halsey had always been a stoic person, not exactly the type to fill the air with inane chatter, but she never would have let them go without asking a hundred questions about what they had been through. He was hardly ungrateful to have escaped explaining Requiem to her after everything that had happened there, but it was still odd.

"Multiple someones." Cortana answered. Her eyes went distant, no doubt focused on something in the station. "If I had to stage a guess…it'd be these guys."

A small holo-screen opened in front of her. She rotated it so he could see what was on display: two armed soldiers in black techsuits and thin armor, standing outside of the lab Dr. Halsey had forcibly requisitioned to bring Cortana around. Cortana zoomed in on their chestplates, and the pyramid branded therein.

"ONI."

"Seems they've still got an interest in her." Cortana frowned. "I don't suppose Lord Hood gave you anything useful at the debrief."

"No." A lie. He had mentioned something. "Blue Team is MIA."

Cortana jerked her head up to stare at him. "What?"

"They were assigned a mission in Covenant space three months ago," John repeated what Lord Hood had told him, "Initial contact was clear, but then dropped away. Nothing for over two months now."

It wasn't unheard of for Spartan teams. Missions could, did, and often ran long. As some of the last Spartan II's in service, he was unsurprised to find that they were still on active duty. Even so, some small part of him had hoped they would be here. That same small part of him had spent too long thinking he was the last, and now.

"We'll find them," Cortana said, pulling him from his exhaustedly maudlin thoughts. She looked at him with a determined expression. "We will."

"And the Didact." John added. She screwed up her face. "He's not dead."

What would it take to kill him, John wondered. He was Forerunner which meant a different physiology than the Covenant that John was used to fighting, but shoot anything enough and it would go down. No, the bigger problem would be lasting long enough to take him out. Had Cortana's fragments not intervened to hold him down, had Commander Palmer not swept in and pulled them out at the last second, the nuke would have taken them out, too. He couldn't even be sure that would have killed the Didact. Until he saw a body, he couldn't confirm a kill. Without that confirmation…

"If he's around, we'll find him." Cortana said. She inclined her head up at him. "I can't say any of this will be easy. Even if Lord Hood reassigns us to the Infinity, there's a lot of work to be done." Despite the concern in her eyes, she smiled. "You ready?"

John let the corners of his lips pull upwards in a small, secret smile, just for her.

"Thought you'd never ask."

[vera-deville]

IKEA Shenanigans

01/20/2023 - 01/29/2023

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

Word Count: 1,775

Warnings: There's some cussing, (more from the reader than Katsuki actually)

Gender: AFAB

Notes: So, I was going through fanfic ideas, and I came across one where the Reader's younger sibling gets lost in IKEA, and they need the character's help finding them.

Now, I find this funny (though I don't think I'd ever lose a child, but hey, there's a first time for everything). I tried thinking about which character to write for this one shot, and I ended up choosing Katsuki Bakugou.

This is quite exciting for me, because I've never written for BNHA before, though I drown myself in Bakugou fanfics practically every week-

Anywho, I hope that this is an acceptable entry into the BNHA fanfic realm! Fair warning, Katsuki doesn't do much talking in this, and honestly, there's not even much interaction between the reader and Katsuki.

Now, I did write this keeping the Reader as AFAB, but if you'd like a gender neutral version, please let me know!

Y/N has younger siblings in this one, one being a brother and another being a sister.

Oh, and this was not a request!

In which Katsuki Bakugou helps the Reader to find their younger siblings who have snuck away in IKEA.

If Y/N had a doubloon for every time her younger siblings got lost out in public, despite her keeping an eye on them and telling them to stay close, she'd probably have two or three doubloons, which isn't much, but the fact that it's happened that many times is still rather annoying.

And right now was one of those times. 

Y/N swore that she'd wring their necks the second she could, but the top most priority at the current moment was to find the little gremlins.

Y/N understood their excitement, really. The family had recently moved, and the twins who had previously shared a room, now had their own separate rooms, and they were allowed to decorate their rooms however they'd liked (as long as it stayed within the budget and actually looked decent and relatively put together).

But that didn't mean that they had the free all to disappear the second their older sister, who, mind you, was put in charge of watching over them while their parents were in a different section of the insanely large store, just because they could.

Because of this, Y/N had to find them, wherever they were, before her parents could get wind that she'd lost them.

And so began the great search of two pint sized demon spawn in the middle of IKEA, where they could be anywhere.

But first things first.

Y/N had to figure out where exactly she was.

After briskly walking around (with no help from her lack of sense of direction) for five minutes, Y/N located the map of the floor. Seems she was at the living rooms. Makes sense. There were literal living rooms around her. Probably should have figured that one out faster-

Y/N searched every living room, and somehow got lost in one of the rooms (though she did eventually find her way back to familiar territory), and still no sign of her younger siblings. Next up, she maneuvered her way into the sofa beds section (referencing the map she took a picture of earlier), and funnily enough, she saw a splash of very familiar sandy-blonde nearby. Whipping her head back, she scanned through the people, but couldn't find what she thought she'd seen, so she went back to her original search.

Luckily for Y/N, the sofa beds were not as confusing as the rooms, and searching through the whole section, she still couldn't find the brats.

And just like that, the dining section had been passed, just as the the wall units and media storage, workspace, and kitchen sections has been (with, mind you, still no sign of the two troublemakers).

At this moment, Y/N started panicking more than she had before, because she started thinking that perhaps she'd missed her siblings in one of the previous sections, or perhaps they had somehow evaded her sight and rushed back to one of the said previous sections. She didn't know how much time she had left before her parents came upstairs and found her, alone, without the two tiny human beings she was entrusted with.

God she'd make a terrible parent-

After panicking for what felt like fifteen minutes (when in actuality, it was just four), Y/N stood back up from her crouched position, straightened her back, rolled her shoulders, took a deep breath, and started walking back to where her search first started. Whether the kids were actually there or not, she did not know, but...it wouldn't hurt to check, right?

And so she passed the kitchens, the media storages, and everything else in between until she once again found herself in the maze of living rooms, and the verge of another panic attack. She crouched down, hugging herself, and quite vocally scolding herself over the fact that her siblings were most probably in the sections that she had not searched yet, which were the bedrooms and children's things.

Too busy cursing herself for her stupidity of having wasted precious time trying to find the twerps, and more importantly, having lost them in the first place, Y/N didn't notice the heavy, but calculated footsteps steadily approaching her (still) crouched figure.

When a hand pressed on her shoulder, Y/N wildly sucker punched whoever it was that dared touch her, and grew nervous when the stranger skillfully grabbed her wrist before the damage could be done.

Locking eyes with the stranger's vermillion ones, Y/N felt her soul leave her body because, as it turned out, it was no stranger that she'd just tried to sucker punch.

No, absolutely not.

It was Katsuki fucking Bakugou.

Her long time crush.

IN IKEA.

If the ground could swallow her up whole, Y/N desperately though it'd be a brilliant time for that to happen.

"The fuck are you doing on the ground?" Asked Bakugou.

Y/N could feel his inquisitive, yet grumpy gaze, and stood up, dusting off whatever dust particles may have gathered on her outfit. "I was just tying my shoelaces. I'm surprised to see you here though. What're you up to?" She applauded herself in her mind for seeming so cool and casual and not a complete mess, completely forgetting her choice of footwear.

Katsuki took note of the ironic buckle shoes Y/N, which had no laces, but didn't make it verbally known, and instead told her that his parents wanted to get some stuff and he had to come along.

As much as Y/N wanted to continue talking to her crush of who knows how long, she did have a very important mission. Love comes only after idiots who get themselves lost. Unfortunately.

"Actually, I'm looking for my younger brother and sister. I've been searching for them for ages, and the twerps still refuse to be found. So, I gotta go find them. See you at school on Monday!" Y/N said as she started making her way back to the bedroom and children's IKEA sections as she still hadn't searched those areas.

"Wait, your siblings wouldn't by any chance be twins around the age of seven, would they?" Katsuki asked.

Surprised, Y/N nodded her head and told him that he was indeed correct.

Without a further explanation, Katsuki told Y/N to follow him, as he skillfully lead her through the crowds of people and the mind-numbing layout (at least in Y/N's opinion) of the store, all the way to the children's IKEA.

And right there, were two children, fighting over who saw first and, therefore, gets to buy the canopy they found.

Y/N facepalmed (slightly startling Katsuki) at the pathetic sight. The idiots could have just bought a canopy each, why the hell were they fighting over one freaking canopy?

Katsuki stayed quiet, and decided to just witness the scene before him when Y/N walked over to her siblings and smacked them both on the back of their heads.

Furious, the children started directing their potential anger at Y/N for showing up out of nowhere and smacking them, only for the eldest to start her own tirade against the young ones. Pretty soon, Katsuki was blessed (not really) with the sight of three siblings, one with a decent age gap between the other two, mind you, arguing with each other about the most random shit.

One was pissed about the other two sneaking away to the other fucking side of the store, one was pissed about getting smacked in the head because apparently they told them that they'd be going to the children's section (and the canopy), and the last one was pissed about (also) get smacked in the head, as well as the canopy, and a stuffed animal (Katsuki didn't know where that one came from), and a bunch of other things.

"Y/N, sweetie, there you kids are!" Yelled a familiar voice.

Immediately, the three siblings morphed into completely different people and greeted their mother and father with the faces (and attitudes) of angels, as if they hadn't been straight up fighting a few seconds ago.

Bakugou couldn't help but wonder if they all had split-personality or something.

"Hey mom! Did you guys get what you needed to get?" Asked Y/N, skillfully taking the canopy away from the twins, who were eyeing it greedily.

"We did. Though it was a hassle finding our way through the place. Did you guys get lost? Your father and I had to ask five different people for directions, can you believe it?" Y/N's mother said. "Oh, and your father being your father, said that he knew exactly where we were, but he only got us more lost than we already were."

Y/N and her siblings laughed at this, and Katsuki felt incredibly weird just standing there, with this family interacting in front of him, completely forgetting his existence. And yet, it was sort of nice seeing Y/N the way she was. It was...domestic in a way.

And right as he was thinking that, they matriarch of the L/N family noticed him, and asked Y/N about him. Katsuki unconsciously straightened his spine, while Y/N introduced him.

"Oh, this is my friend from school! We randomly bumped into each other here while the twins were picking out their canopies, and he was helping us choose some stuff." Replied Y/N, sneaking a threatening glance at the twins to make sure they keep their mouths shut about her lie. The twins obliged.

Now, feeling even more awkward, Katsuki (somehow) pleasantly greeted Y/N's parents, and lied about how his parents were probably looking for him, and he had to get going. Y/N's parents told him it was nice meeting him, before telling their kids that they'd best be going as well, and get their items all checked out.

The twins went along with their parents, and Y/N lingered behind for a bit. Looking at Bakugou, she said in a sweet voice, "It was nice you outside of school. We should totally hang sometime!"

Before Katsuki could tell her that he wasn't going to fucking meet up with her outside of school, since he already saw her dumb face enough in school (that's a lie, he definitely wanted to meet up), Y/N told him one final thing before prancing away, "Tell anyone I lost the two shitheads and your neck will be lacking a head~"

Yup, Y/N was still the same even outside of school.

With a smirk on his face, Katsuki made his way back to where his parents were supposed to be, already awaiting seeing Y/N at school on Monday.

~ Vera Lisle

[tokusaatsus]

a headcanon of chiaki walking in his s/o trying his basketball jersey *insert evil laugh*

☆—MORISAWA CHIAKI

Is not expecting that to be what he sees when comes home.

You’re frozen in shock, caught in the act of slipping the jersey over your head, snuggling the fabric against your chest. Sooooo embarrassing…!?

You have…no idea what to say and you don’t think that it’d matter anyways, because Chiaki looks like he’s lost all coherency, face turning as red as his title. He can only splutter apologies.

Because?

You look so cute??

The jersey is slightly loose on you, sure, but that’s just because he’s jacked as fuck and you’re…not as much. The sight of his number on you, however, is literally ruining his capacity to think. Goodbye, my last remaining braincells, he thinks hysterically. You will be severely missed.

But he does need the storage space, to be able to engrave this picture of you into his memory and, well…it’s not like algebra was that important anyways…

Megane-sensei will have to understand that this takes priority when he fails his next test.

Asks you why you were wearing it.

“I…um…I was missing you and it smelled like you…so…”

You giggle breathily, because he’s seen you naked before and he hasn’t ever reacted like this?

But that only serves to worsen his blush. You’re worried he might faint.

You wave your hand in front of his face and watch his eyes flicker as his brain reboots.

After he gets over his shock from hearing you say those words out loud, he’s overjoyed.

Starts to leave his clothes in your closet, so that he can see you wearing them.

Drops multiple hints about how comfortable wearing oversized clothes is. He’s trying to be subtle but. Subtle is not a word that can be used to describe your boyfriend.

Encourages you to come to his basketball games wearing his sweatshirts, the ones with his names plastered across the back. He says it’s so he can ‘be energised by your show of support ☆!’ but you know it’s just because seeing you wearing his clothes is doing things to his brain.

Brags about you to his teammates, to varying reactions.

“That’s the love of my life up there, wearing my jacket!”

Some are more inclined to see the romantic side of Chiaki’s exuberant declarations (Akehoshi), some think it’s cute you’re supporting him in this way (Mao-chan), but others don’t find it  sweet so much as bothersome (Midorin).

If you wear his spare RYUSEITAI jacket to Lives, he would be? So happy??

Like, you’re showing your support for his unit, yeah–and that’s incredible, you’re so amazing!–but also your support for him, specifically as a person. As your boyfriend.

Insists on lending you his clothes and conveniently forgetting to take them back, until you have to put your foot down and tell him to stop because you’re running out of storage space.

Pouts for a bit after, but once you tell him you’ll keep some of his clothes he perks right up and offers to give you the best pieces he has.

(By which he means the ones with his name on them. Gotta let everyone know you're taken, after all!)

☆—notes!

WC: 519 words

this man…is the loml <3 also i believe in baggy clothing supremacy???!? anyways. i hope u enjoyed this anonnie! this was fun to write, and a much-needed break from the 1k+ fics i’ve been writing so far cries mwah <33

[lsvdw-blog]

Drained (3/?)

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x f!MC

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings; Rating: Angst; General

Premise: Serena makes moves and Ethan finds out.

Author’s Note: I'm sorry ☠️ I hope you enjoy and thank you for reading 💖 **HSM reference included

Serena comes to a halt in the middle of a crosswalk. Rebecca continues to lay out the terms of the contract, but time stands still as Serena drones out, shocked.

An offer. 

This is exactly what she wanted. A dream come true for her younger self.

So why does she feel so conflicted? 

~~~~~~

Serena hangs up the phone just as she’s stepping into her apartment, all of her roommates, along with Bryce and Rafael, are gathered in the living room, watching a movie. 

She stands at the edge, absorbing the laughter and camaraderie filling the space. Silently taking in what she would be giving up. 

Although becoming Head of the Diagnostics Team has been far from what she expected, she’s comfortable here — it’s familiar. She knows the ins and outs of Edenbrook now, a far cry from the intern that got lost in the hallways. She has an incredible friend group that would drop everything if she needed them. She knows the language, the culture, the unspoken rules and etiquette. 

She’d go from a three hour flight home to being across the ocean. She’d miss birthdays, holidays, and impromptu get-togethers. She'd miss the mundane things: days out in Boston Common, going on shopping trips with the girls, getting lost in the farmer's markets. 

But this was something she had wanted her entire life. What she’d worked nearly a decade for. 

By everyone else’s standards, for anyone on the outside looking in, she’s flourished in her three and half years at Edenbrook. Yet she feels like a trained falcon: tethered and only able to fly when told how high and how far.

She owes it to herself to make her dream a reality, to spread her wings, and not only fly, but soar.

Her eyes grow misty the longer she stands there, contemplating all of the things that would change. It isn’t until she’s deep in her spiral that Elijah calls out her name. 

“Serena, are you okay?” 

The backlight from the television reflects the tears in her eyes. “I’m really gonna miss you guys.” 

Understandably, she’s met with a room full of confused expressions. While they know about her struggles as Head of the Diagnostics Team, they don’t know about the events of the last forty-eight hours. 

Serena walks towards them, plopping down in the middle of the floor, and begins to fill them in. 

By that night, Serena had signed a year-long contract, shipping out in six weeks. 

~~~~~~

The next few days are a blur: making phone calls to potential movers and storage unit companies and having conversations with her new team. 

It seems as though Ethan finally took the hint that she wanted space. His interactions are gentle, but few and far in between. 

Serena knows it’s not fair to keep him in the dark, but she’s still too hurt and overwhelmed to bring herself to do the right thing.

Ethan interprets her space as her just needing to work through it first, that she’d be ready to talk soon.

How wrong he was. 

~~~~~~

“Great work today, Carrick. There might be some hope left for you after all.” 

Tobias chuckles. 

“Gotta keep the lead on her toes!” He does a little boxing move, causing Serena to laugh. “This will be my team before you know it.” 

Serena sobers at that comment, remembering the big news she has yet to share with anyone other than her family and roommates. 

Tobias notices the sudden change in energy, a cloud of sadness settling over them. 

“Tobias… take a seat. There’s something we need to discuss.” 

His brows furrow and his head tilts to the side in confusion as they both take a seat at the round table. Serena huffs out a long breath, sitting with her back ramrod straight, hands clasped in front of her. Any and all traces of joviality are gone.

“This should be your team."

“Serena, I was just kidding. You know I respect you as Hea—”

“I know. This has nothing to do with that. I wasn't ready then and I'm not ready now."

“You’re doing a fanta—”

Serena's hand shoots up to interrupt him. 

“It's okay. I know you see the way I’m being treated and have heard some… not very nice things said about me.” 

“Well, yeah, but they’re all just boomers who have a stick wedged so far up their asses that they’ve forgotten what it’s like to be a decent human being.” 

Serena snorts. “While that may be true, you know it’s more than that.”

Tobias leans forward, placing a hand over Serena’s that she hasn't stopped wringing. 

He looks at her earnestly. “You are doing an amazing job. And when have you ever cared what other people think? I say fuck ‘em.” 

“If only it were that easy.” 

She brings a hand out from under his, placing it on top. 

“It has been made very clear, time and time again, that I am not wanted here.” 

“That’s not tru—”

“I’ve accepted another position.” 

Tobias blinks rapidly at Serena. 

“With Médecins Sans Frontières.”

His jaw goes slack.  

“In Myanmar.”

At this, Tobias’ eyes look like they’re about ready to pop out of his head. 

“No.” 

“What?”

“I reject this.”

“Tobias… This is something I need to do.”

“You’re an invaluable member of this hospital! Anyone who means anything knows that — I know that, the DT knows that, the Chief—”

At that, Serena scoffs and rolls her eyes. 

“No, he doesn’t.” 

“What are you ta—”

“I’ve already signed the contract. I’ll deploy in five weeks.”

“What?”

A booming voice echoes around the room. Serena jumps backwards, extricating her hands from Tobias’, and looks at the floor. 

This is so not the way I wanted to tell him. 

Serena gives Tobias a curt nod, letting him know that it’s okay for him to leave the room. 

“Page me if you need anything,” he whispers before exiting. 

“Serena, what the hell is going on?”

“Ethan, sit down.”

“No! I’m not going to ‘sit down.’ Tell me what’s going on right now.” 

Serena sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. “I’ve accepted a position with Médecins Sans Frontières in Myanmar. I start in five weeks, so you can count this as my four week notice.” 

“Is this one of those pranks from social media that I don’t understand?”

“Do I look like I’m joking?” 

“Well, you must be. You were just made Head of the Diagnostics Team! This is your dream job.”

“It was. It’s not anymore.”

“Oh, but moving to Myanmar is?!” 

Serena gets out of her chair. “You’re missing the point.” 

“Then enlighten me!”

Ethan knows he needs to get a grip and control his emotions, but the utter fear coursing through him is paralyzing.

“I have been so busy supporting you in the last three years that I lost sight of myself.

“And I’m not saying it’s your fault, it’s not, I happily put you first. I wanted to put you first. With Naveen, Louise, Edenbrook possibly shutting down, everything. 

“But I had always dreamed of leaving our planet a better place than we’d found it. Of traveling the world while volunteering with different organizations… Did you even know that?" Serena whispers.

“You’re making a difference here.” 

Serena shakes her head furiously. “It’s not the same! Life kept getting in the way and I lost myself in the process, don't you see?!” 

“So what?! You felt sorry for me, is that it?! You saw me as some pet project — someone you could fix and mold into your perfect vision, so you stayed. My savior." 

The word drips with disdain, mockery, disgust.

Ethan expects Serena to yell obscenities at him, but when she speaks, eyes locked on his, she's deathly calm. 

Which causes Ethan to become even more frantic.

"I never wanted to save you. You were never broken, not to me. The things you see as flawed and jagged all fit together perfectly to create you. 

"'The whole is greater than the sum of its parts.' And you, as a whole, as your entire being, is the man I fell in love with.

"But my love for you has nothing to do with the struggles I've faced in my short tenure as lead. 

"I've done my absolute best to carry this team to new heights, to carry on the legacy and the mission. But it's become practically impossible to do when everyone in this hospital constantly undermines me, questions my competence, and makes bets on when I'll fail." 

"Not everyone. I don't—"

Ethan is interrupted by a barking laugh of disbelief. 

"It seems you've already forgotten, so let me remind you." 

~ 2 Months Ago ~

Serena exhaustedly walks through the door of Ethan’s apartment, the tail-wagging greeting of Jenner always a welcome, and much needed, dose of serotonin. 

Ethan follows closely behind the golden retriever, greeting Serena with a lopsided grin and kiss.

They have a nightly routine whenever she stays over, which is more often than not nowadays, and tonight is no different.  

Ethan notices that Serena is quieter than usual as they go through their ritual. He doesn’t bring it up, but keeps a close eye on her, ready to talk if and when she feels ready. 

Cuddled up on the couch after dinner, watching some brain-numbing show, is when Serena decides it's a good time. She pushes herself off of Ethan’s chest and sits criss-cross applesauce as she turns to face him. Her hands are in her lap, fidgeting in nervousness, internally trying to hype herself up. 

Ethan places one hand over hers in a reassuring gesture, patiently waiting for her to speak. 

“I’ve, uh—” Serena clears her throat. “I’ve been having some management challenges. Senior personnel in other departments have created a hostile work environment that isn’t letting me adequately step into the role as Head of the Diagnostics Team.

“There is no level of trust and this is shown day in and day out, in any decisions I make; I receive constant pushback, refusal to cooperate, and at times, am completely ignored.”

Serena’s heart is hammering in her chest and her palms are sweaty as she waits with bated breath for Ethan’s response.

“Tension is never one-sided. Be careful and cognizant of how you are treating others as well.”

Serena is taken aback. “That’s not me and you know it. There was practically no handover period, let alone adequate training. I was left to my own devices. Everyone assumed I would ‘figure it out,’ but it seems to have been forgotten by literally everyone that I don’t have anything to base this on in order to ‘figure it out!’”

Ethan sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Is that what this is about? I can’t just give you handouts because you’re my girlfriend.”

“When have I ever asked you for a ‘handout?’” Serena stands from her spot on the couch. “Why are you being so unsupportive? Don’t join the ranks of the people who think I slept my way to the top,” Serena says, a challenge in her tone.

Ethan is stunned into silence, bewilderment in his eyes.

The tension between them fills the penthouse, engulfing them in a silent standoff, neither backing down. 

Until Ethan says something that completely breaks Serena’s resolve. 

“Maybe you’re not mature enough to handle this yet. Perhaps I should have given the team to Tobias.” 

Ethan’s statement is coming from a place of hurt, her previous flippant remark cutting deep, as if his greatest fear concerning their relationship is becoming a reality. But it is also coming from a place of mentorship, invoking the “tough love” tactic he is so renowned for. The tone reminiscent of the very first day they met, following the thoracotomy in the waiting area. 

Tough love that pushes her to be better, to reach the staggering heights he knows she’s capable of, to fulfill her full potential. 

But all Serena wishes for is the floor to open up and swallow her whole. She wishes she hadn’t said anything at all, that there was a time machine that would take her back. Because how foolish of her to assume that Ethan could set aside his role as Chief to be the loving and supportive boyfriend she needed, not only in this moment, but also in the past four months. 

"You single-handedly tore a wound that I've been bleeding from ever since. I wasn’t confiding in you as Dr. Harlow; I was confiding in you as Serena. As a woman who, in that moment, needed the man she loved to love her.

Ethan is utterly horrified by the conversation from a couple months back and he grows ever more appalled with himself as Serena continues to put her feelings into words — yes, taking over as Chief was a bigger task than he had anticipated, but how could he not have noticed her cries for help? 

*"What about us?" 

Of all the thoughts and emotions swirling within him, this is the only one Ethan cares about right now. 

“What about everything we’ve been through?” Ethan presses. 

"You told me that you don't need me to take care of you. I realize now that I threw myself on the fire to keep you warm, but you'd say that you never asked me to. So I'll keep myself warm from now on."

“What am I supposed to do? I don’t want to lose you.”*

The words come out jumbled, rushed beyond measure, as if they'd be lost to time forever if Ethan didn't get them out right that instant.

His heart is beating like a hummingbird's wings, but it stops dead in the next second.  

"You've been too distracted to realize that you've already lost me a long time ago.

But you got what you wanted after all — this is Tobias' team now.”

[leiawritesstories]

You should do a small oneshot of Aelin moving back to college and seeing Rowan for the first time. To balance your own move back 😊 also good luck and I hope everything goes smoothly with your return to college!

this made me smile so big 😊 i love you 😊😊

word count: 990

warnings: language, small chaos 

enjoy!!

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

Fifteen hours of driving, several gas stations, two grocery stores, a handful of seed bathroom stops and one night in a cheap motel later, Aelin Galathynius pulled her beloved, if a little beat-up, blue Subaru into the parking lot of her apartment building and heaved a great gasping sigh of relief, slumping over the steering wheel. 

Why the hell had she chosen to drive herself here again? 

“AELY!” someone shrieked outside her car, the screech rapidly followed by a fist beating against her car window. 

Ah yes. That was why. 

“LYSSIE!” she squealed in return, energy flooding her as she jumped out of her car to catch her best friend in a tight hug. “I missed you!” 

“Missed you more!” Lysandra beamed, gazing at her. “Okay bitch, let’s get your stuff out of the car.” 

“I’m gonna check in first,” Aelin called, just grabbing her backpack and locking her car as she headed for the line of people in front of the building. Being a sophomore, she wasn’t required to live in the dorms anymore, so she, Lys, Elide, and Ansel had decided to get an apartment together. They’d opted to live in one of the on-campus apartment buildings, which, as it was owned by the university, was the most affordable option. And they didn’t have to pay separate utility bills, it was all one monthly payment. 

Once she’d checked in at the tent set up in front of the building, Aelin loped back to her car, unlocking the doors and pushing the button to raise the back door. 

Lysandra’s eyes bugged out. “Shit!” she exclaimed, “I thought you left a bunch of stuff here!” 

“Bitch,” Aelin laughed. “Yeah, I picked up the stuff from the storage unit before I drove here. This is it.” 

“And then some,” the brunette teased, smirking. 

“Oh shut it, you probably had more than this.” 

Lys was silent. 

Aelin cackled as she grabbed the first boxes out of her car. “It’s okay, babe, I know how much of a material girl you are.” 

“Shut up,” Lys groaned playfully. “If you’re mean, I won’t help you haul your shit.” 

“Guess I’ll just have to ask some hunky guys to help me, then.” Aelin fluttered her eyelashes. “Hmm?” 

Lys snorted, nearly dropping the boxes in her arms. “Gonna convince them with your winning charm, babe?” 

“You know me too well,” Aelin smirked, craning her head to see through the doorway. And groaning. “Stairs are gonna be faster, look at the line for the fuckin’ elevator.” 

“Shit,” Lys grumbled. “Time to get my steps in, I guess!” 

“Cheers!” 

~

Somewhere around 34 flights of stairs later, according to Aelin’s smart watch, all of her stuff was finally in the apartment and she began to unpack, her room rapidly deteriorating into a mess as she tossed clothes onto the bare bed, stacked things into the closet, and strewed empty boxes all over the desk and the floor. She grumbled a string of curses to herself as she picked up the mess of cardboard, deciding to head down to the recycling bins and dump the stuff rather than let it stay on the floor and create a worse mess. 

And she knew that if she didn’t take care of it, the mess would never go away. 

On her way over to the trash enclosure, the flattened boxes teetering at the top of the pile in her arms wobbled in the breeze and tumbled down to the parking lot’s pavement. 

“Motherfucking cabrón piece of mierda puta,” she growled, assorted Spanish swears mingling into her furious curse. 

Behind her, a distinctly male cough echoed. 

“What the fuck are you laughing at?” she snapped, whirling around to find--

Fuck. 

The guy was drop-dead gorgeous. 

Bright, forest-green eyes that were badly concealing his burst of laughter set into tanned skin, contrasting sharply with his hair, so blonde it looked nearly silver in the fading evening light, definitely over six feet tall, and strongly muscled, the guy’s full lips were pressed together like he was forcibly holding back another burst of laughter. 

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, his deep, husky voice carrying just a trace of a Doranelle accent. “I wasn’t laughing at you.” 

“Mhmm,” she deadpanned, as much sarcasm as she could muster packed into the syllables. 

“No no I swear!” the guy rushed. He quickly stooped down and picked up the boxes that had dropped, following her to the recycling bin and holding up the lid so she could dump her armload of cardboard into the bin. “I just--uhh, I heard you swearing in Spanish and god I know it’s awful of me but I know a tiny bit of Spanish and I thought it was funny?” His ears had flared crimson by the time he was done stumbling through his explanation. 

It was Aelin’s turn to stifle giggles. “I see.” 

“Oh, fuck,” the guy moaned, “you hate me!” 

She burst out laughing, she just couldn’t help herself. “No, no!” she wheezed, bracing her hands on her legs. “I’m sorry, it’s been a hell of a day and I can’t exactly control my reactions right now. I don’t hate you, I think you’re adorable.” 

His flush deepened. “Oh yeah?” 

“Yep.” She winked. “And such a gentleman. I’m Aelin.” 

“Not much of a gentleman for not introducing myself,” he laughed. “I’m Rowan. I live on the fifth floor.” 

“I’m on the fourth floor.” She smirked. “If you ever have a noise complaint, it’s probably my roommates, I’m the only one who stays sober and grouchy.” 

Rowan pretended to tip his hat to her. “I’m the cranky sober one too, cuz someone has to be around to pull Fen’s hair back when he’s hunched over the toilet.” 

“Fen?” she asked. “Fenrys Moonbeam? You’re his roommate?” 

“You know Fen?” Rowan’s brows shot up. “Shit, you’re Aelin!” 

“Yep,” she confirmed, grinning. “We could be seeing each other a lot this year, Rowan.” 

Yeah, he really hoped so.

~~~

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[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Limelight: Final Part

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.2k

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

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

Due to Jill's announcement with the press, the police station is crowded with people who claimed they have people missing. Of course, you can't reject anyone, so you're stuck listening to every single person's account of someone who is missing. You're overwhelmed by the sheer amount of people here, but you have to remind yourself that the stress isn't real. You can separate yourself from it, but it takes a lot out of you.

You must have talked to ten people, but none of them had something useful for you to use. You're sad that some of them have people they love who are missing, but none of them match the other victims you're looking for.

You're just about to give up hope when you get a tip from dispatch that someone called in claiming to know where a victim is. Your team is taken to an empty room to listen to the recording since it happened a little bit ago while the local police handle the tips from everyone else.

"Philadelphia Police Department," dispatch says.

"I think I saw something. It might have to do with the killings," a man says in a low voice.

"What did you see?"

"My car broke down on I-76. There was a field off the road. A man was digging a hole."

"What kind of hole?"

"For the body. I saw it. A bleeder stripped of its clothes."

"Can I have your name, sir?"

"Mile marker 115 on the eastbound. They'll find it."

The call ends, and you know that without a doubt, that the caller was the unsub. He is leading you to another body, and you know this has something to do with Jill talking to the press yesterday.

"Does anything strike you?" Jill asks Hotch.

"Stripped of its clothes. That objectifies the victim."

"Exactly. Dehumanizing. This wasn't just any tipster."

"The way that he referred to the body as a bleeder could mean--"

"Visible trauma to the corpse," Jill cuts him off, jumping the gun.

She is too excited, and she is going to get herself hurt... or worse.

"No, not exactly. I noted usage of the same word in the pages from the storage facility. He refers to his targets as bleeders. It's misogynistic. He's referring to menstruation."

"He'd use it as a weakness."

"I think we need to see what's in that field."

Derek and Emily volunteered to see the body with their own eyes, but you wanted to stay at the police station. What they found there shocked not only them but the rest of the team once they found out about it. Not only did they find a victim buried in the ground with enough teeth intact to ID the body, but this woman was buried on top of another woman.

Two victims this unsub gave you, but why? What was the point of it?

"He calls in anonymously and hands us two more victims. Why?" Jill asks, just as confused as you.

"You vowed publicly to bring him in. He may be reacting to that to show you who you're dealing with. He's a narcissist. He's preening."

"Good. I hope he keeps it up."

"No, you don't want that."

"He will drop a breadcrumb every time he tries something like this."

"He'll drop bodies, too."

What the hell is wrong with her? Why is she being like this? She is too cocky, and you don't like that she is on this case.

"If he's making it personal, he'll get sloppy and give himself away."

"Maybe that's what he wants. It never occurred to me that this guy defaulted on that storage unit."

"You think he wanted us to find it?"

"Maybe he's decided it's time for the world to know his name, but if he wanted a coming-out party, then why not just send his victim photos, videos, or something to prove what he is?"

"He wanted us to start at the beginning, to chart his evolution. Bright childhood grows into darkness. He's got us chronicling every step."

"So, if this is his story, what chapter are we on?" Jill wonders.

"The final one. He's writing it as we speak."

Your phone rings, and you put Penelope on speakerphone for all to hear.

"What's up?"

"When I got shot, I kept wondering why God would program our bodies to register that kind of pain. You know what got me through it?"

"No, I don't. What got you through it?"

"Knowing that the pain would eventually end, but these women, they don't even have that. When he's torturing them, there's no end." She takes a pause, and you hear something in the background. "Philly lab matched the IDs of the dental records on the two women from the grave. Mimi Adams and Sara Coswell. You'll find them in the missing person files we've flagged as possible victims."

"Thanks, Pen. We're on it."

"Wait, there's something else. Both women were reported missing four months ago on the same day."

"He's doing doubles. The killer got bored, upped the stakes, and killed two women in one day."

"Gerard Schaefer did it. He took his cue from Bundy. He said it was twice as hard, but twice as much fun. He kills with impunity for years without the slightest bit of heat and he needs a bigger fix, so he starts doing two a day. Four months later, he still can't get off so he opens his storage locker for us."

"Jill. Chronicle holding on 2," an officer notifies Agent Morris.

"Yeah, I'll take that in my office."

"Planning another press conference?" Derek comments, but she doesn't answer.

She leaves for her office, and you watch her leave. She is going to get someone killed if she continues down this road, and it seems like she doesn't want to listen to anyone.

"I heard we got IDs on these two bodies," JJ says walking into the conference room.

"Yeah, Mimi Adams and Sara Coswell. What's up?"

"This woman's husband came in before. She fits the victim type," JJ says about one of the victims that have been dug up.

"If you have her DNA, you might want to check it against the hair."

"What hair?"

"From the storage unit. Agent Morris found it early on. It's the same color, so it might--"

"It won't match," Rossi cuts Spencer off. "She didn't get the hair from the unit."

"She lied? When were you gonna tell us?" Hotch asks angrily.

"Whatever she did to get us here, we're here now."

"It's unacceptable behavior. Why do you keep defending her?"

"Because I know what she is. She's me twenty years ago. I know what people think. Everyone knows their names, but not the victims, right? Somewhere along the line, I put myself first. I admit it. I can't go back and change it, but it's not too late for her."

"Missing persons flagged a report that was just filed," Derek says once the news breaks out.

"A possible victim?"

"The subject's car was found idling at a stop sign, and there was some damage to the back end. It sounds like a bump and grab."

"Did she fit his profile career, age-wise?" Hotch asks.

"Katrina Townsley, thirty-four. She's a reporter at the chronicle."

"The Chronicle?"

Rossi gets up and rushes over to Jill's office in a panic. You realize why when you remember the officer telling her that someone from the Chronicle was calling her. If she did what you think she did, then Jill went out on the prospect of getting this guy, and she probably walked right into a trap.

You rush behind Rossi and see something on her computer that resembles a letter on her email. Upon closer examination, it's a letter that doesn't look like the other ones you've gotten.

"What is it?" Hotch asks.

"Have we gotten this letter?"

"No. I've never seen this before," Spencer says after reading it. "Why would he send agent Morris a letter?"

"She's his final chapter."

Luckily, Jill has a government phone that always has the tracker readily available, so you know her last known location. She was last at a car garage, but when you get there, you find her phone and nothing else. She was here, you can feel her, and someone else was here as well. The unsub must have grabbed two people. If you had to guess, the unsub grabbed Jill's friend at the Chronicle before using her to lure Jill out of hiding.

Katrina Townsley's energy is littered across the garage, making it easy to follow it.

"There's blood here. A couple of drops. Looks like she was dragged. This shouldn't have happened."

"Her guard was down. He tricked her into thinking she was meeting a friend," you try to assure Rossi.

"I told her to slow down, check your ego, and use your team."

"David, there's no way you could have known that she was gonna go off by herself."

"I did know. Sure as I know myself."

"Rossi, I can see Kat and Jill's energy. I know where they went. Right behind you at the entrance of the garage, I can see the vehicle he is driving." Rossi stares at you as if you have three heads, but you don't have time for this. "Okay, you can keep staring at me, or I can help you find them."

You don't wait for his response, and you take out your phone to call Hotch.

"Do you have something?"

"I know where they went. I can see his car. I'll be able to track them down, but I won't know where they are until I get there."

"Good. Follow them."

You hang up on Hotch and walk over to the car you used to travel to the garage.

"Are you going to come?"

Rossi and Spencer have no choice but to follow you no matter if they believe you or not. You get behind the wheel since you can clearly see the van the unsub used. The closer you get to the car, the further away it seems to be. When you move, it moves in the direction it went.

You pull into traffic and follow the van that seems to disappearing between cars, only to reappear.

"What do you see?" Rossi asks you.

"I see this van maneuvering between cars, disappearing and reappearing. It's like it's leading me to where it is because of Kat and Jill. Their energies are making it so that I am able to follow them clearly. It's hard to explain."

After three more minutes on the main road, you make a couple of right turns into a neighborhood where you see the same car parked in front of a house. You quickly sent a message to Hotch about where you are, and it wasn't long for the rest of the team and the police force to arrive at the house.

The second the door was busted down, you followed the energy left behind by Kat and Jill. They are alive, but you hope that the unsub didn't hurt them too much. The unsub is unusually calm when you get down to the basement, and he even lets you handcuff him and take him away without a fight. Kat is lying on the ground, unconscious, but Jill is a crying mess.

With the unsub in custody, your team is able to figure who the hell this guy is. His name is Jeremy Andrus, forty-one. He came from a broken home, poverty, went to trade school, was involved in petty crime and lewd behavior. The entire profile is laid out in his entire life, so it seems obvious now that you know who he is, but it wasn't so obvious when you had the entire state of people to choose from.

The thing that bothers you the most is that when he was shown all the missing people, he kept pointing to certain ones. You know that the ones he is pointing to are his victims.

Seventeen of them he has pointed to, and he hasn't even gotten to the 2006 pile. It breaks your heart. He won't speak or tell you where the remains are, and that's the true revenge knowing he's killed this many people but won't tell you where they are located.

Knowing you caught this guy and can bring justice to other victims, but you can't if he won't talk about it.

The best thing to unwind from a case like this is to spend it with the people you love the most. You and Spencer needed a relaxing night, and what better way to relax than with facials and at-home manicures? Using one of your hair wraps to keep your hair out of the way when you're doing makeup, you place that on Spencer's head to pull his hair away from his face. It's a cute pink one with bunny ears while yours is blue with teddy bear ears.

You slather on a good amount of your facial mixture to Spencer's face, avoiding his eyes and nose. After putting some on yourself, you grab his right hand and begin to fix his nails with your manicure set.

"Would you quit looking at that thing?"

He is holding the facial bottle and inspecting the ingredients as if he will understand what some of them are.

"My face is tingling. I don't think that's supposed to be happening."

"Yes, it is. That means it's working. Now, put down the bottle and relax. Let me take care of you."

Spencer sets the bottle down and leans back, closing his eyes in relaxation. It's not every day where you can be like this with Spencer, but you're going to take it where you can get it. If you can't find happiness in these moments, then why have them at all?

"I love you," you say, blowing on his fingers to get rid of the loose skin.

"I love you," he smiles with his eyes closed.

"For we pay a price for everything we get or take in this world; and although ambitions are well worth having, they are not to be cheaply won." - Lucy Maud Montgomery

x

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[mittensmorgul]

The Winchesters 1.03, You’re Lost Little Girl

Rewatch notes, mostly for my own reference purposes. not entirely in chrono order of the episode, with many tangents and references to spn canon...

Poor little Twinkle Star, Carrie, having to grow up too quick and be a big girl. And her 12-year-old brother as her main caretaker (and as we’ll learn, Mary next door checking in on them when she can). At least she had the CB radio to talk to her momma while she was on the road. More than Sam and Dean ever got, from what we’ve seen.

(btw, love the anachronistic reference to Star Wars with the names Carrie and Ford, when Star Wars won’t come out for another five years...)

So her stuffed bunny Bernice is missing, and right when she wishes for it most, a weird sack appears on her floor, and she finds the bunny. But a truly horrific monster climbs out of the sack behind her and snatches her up.

So. This monster. Is it stealing these items to start with so that people will miss them, or is it truly opportunistically creating items (or otherwise magically manifesting them in response to people wishing for their lost items?), or does the mechanics of it even really matter? It’s got its whole creepy storage unit inside some sack pocket dimension. It reminds me of the Soul Eater from 11.16 in some ways, with its little pocket dimension where it pulls people’s souls to drain/feed on them until they disappear entirely. At least that part is a near identical concept, even if the mechanics are slightly different.

Dean’s narration is an attempt to murder me personally, about ending up lost without friends and family to help guide you. Like... Dean... baby... can I get you a hug...

FINALLY we learn what happened to Mary’s mom. Apparently Deanna has been out of touch, off on her own working with other hunters in... Minnesota... for at least a few months. And even that seems connected to the mysterious Maggie who died, whose death caused so many fractures for seemingly everyone they know. WHO IS MAGGIE?! WHAT HAPPENED THERE?! That feels... very important to the larger story of what’s going on here.

But I find it wild that Deanna has been completely out of touch with the family, almost like SHE IS MISSING TOO?!, and yet Mary is solely focused on finding Samuel. Which I think is something else to pay attention to. WHERE IS DEANNA?! If her other hunting friends haven’t seen her in several months either, I’m marking her down on the MISSING list, as well.

We have another incident of the SILENT TREATMENT. The whole gang does have a history of using it as a weapon, but heck. Mary wondering if Samuel is deliberately keeping her in the dark about his current hunt as a variation on the silent treatment, as a sort of punishment for their argument over her wanting to quit hunting. Lata tries to reframe it for Mary into something more positive, Mary considers it and dismisses it.

Lata suggests they go see a movie to take a break, john jumps at the offer, and mary’s like nah go see the omega man I got work to do. When I first watched, I wondered if there was an element of lata hoping John would go with her instead, but... I didn’t see it this time. I do think they would be cute together, though :’D

Ada is working through all her demon spell freewriting notes, and has a lead on maybe getting info about fixing the demon trap box. Obviously it can’t become a kill anything all the time device, so I still wonder if that thing has a cooldown period, or other limitations. Otherwise you don’t have a show, just feed every monster to the box and be done with it.

Carlos arrives with info about Mary’s missing neighbor, and she and John go to investigate while Mary makes Carlos go with Ada to track down the demon. Teamwork makes the dream work, etc. “Don’t go alone” is always good advice on this show, too.

Betty’s last name is Donelon. Missed that before. :”D John... is the absolute worst liar. We know he’s been dodging Betty since he got back, but you’d think he’d at least have thought up a better lie than “study group” and “community college” for what he’s been up to. I mean, even “dealing with family stuff” is a stronger lie than making up stuff that can be so easily disproven. Which makes me think about original canon, knowing the history of “the story became the story” and things John forced Dean to invent, or lies he demanded Dean convince Sam of for his own protection. Does John get to be a better liar with practice, or does he just pass off the creation of those stories to Dean to handle? John’s abject failure to lie smoothly here makes me think it’s the latter.

Betty is a good person, genuinely a good person, and she deserves better than his awful lies. But very much like Sam’s strategy later in life, John wants to keep her out of the Supernatural entirely, and will not tell her the truth about any of it. She better not end up dead because of that...

Ford tells Mary the truth of what he saw, things he didn’t tell the police, and Mary believes him (of course). She goes exploring in Carrie’s room with John, and he finds her CB. Mary has one too, but she used hers for different reasons-- on Samuel’s orders, listening for Hunter Code Words. I presume that’s the sort of scanning John used it for when Dean recalled him using one in 13.11. But Mary just liked listening to the truckers and imaging having “a normal life.” Like... long haul truckers was her exposure to “normal.” LOL at that, poor mary.

Mary, raised into hunting, never allowing HERSELF (though she blames her parents for it) to imagine a different life for herself outside of hunting, is only... sorta like Dean? We watched Dean HAVE a very different life from hunting, taking a year off at Sam’s dying wish, and then finally deciding that life wasn’t for him. Even in his supposed “living the dream” scenario of owning Rocky’s Bar, HE WAS STILL HUNTING. A big part of that recurring sequence was the fight scene. Like he could never be truly content completely out of the life either. “Settling down with someone, someone in the life” was the option we understood was Dean’s idea of happiness for a very long time. And I suspect Mary would be happy with that sort of balanced happiness in her life too, even if it becomes “I just want out, period.” I feel like she wants out from under Samuel’s rather authoritarian thumb more than she wants out of hunting, you know? Just like her friends expressed to her about her leadership style last week...

John’s the one who presses her to make a new list, of things she might like to do “when she quits hunting for good.” I don’t think he really understands... definitely not yet. He’s the one who was allowed to have other dreams as a kid (like Sam was...) and who’s just really learning about hunting now... about Saving People, etc.

Mary finds a bit of the sack, and we see inside, Carrie hidden beneath a mountain of stuffed animals, the monster closing in on her, and then backing off. Like it knows she’s there, and letting her be afraid for a while is part of its plans for her. Lata confirms this later, that it traps victims in a maze, then “plays with its food,” taunting them until it finally eats them.

Mary explains hex bags to John, and John explains to Ford that they’re for “luck,” rather than “to ward off malicious spirits” like mary told him. So he CAN lie effectively, but I guess only to kids? LOL.

Ford demands he be allowed to help find his sister, because he blames himself for losing her. Mary tells him he can help by staying safe, and Ford proves he’s not dumb, insisting the thing he saw take Carrie was real. Mary doesn’t even attempt to lie to him, just tells him what they know, but in 12-year-old kid terms. There’s shades of Dean attempting to tell a kid version of the truth to Jesse the Antichrist back in 5.06. 

On their stakeout, Ada is intently focused on a bonsai tree and some sort of spellcraft, trimming the tree like her life depended on it, Carlos is in raptures over Rockin Roxy and her pirate radio station. In his boredom, they both somehow missed the demon sneaking up on them. I still love Carlos’ holy water pistol :’D And it’s good to know this demon is powerful enough that he’s not really bothered by it. Ada wants to keep him trapped so they can chat before they report back to the others. And I’m thinking this is why she rolled her eyes when Mary insisted Carlos go with her. She was hoping to do this on the DL.

Mary and her suspicion about two Wayward Monsters in two weeks... obscure hag from Columbia, now obscure North Indian bag freak... and suddenly this feels like the plot to the first 2/3 of s6. Where ARE all these obscure monsters coming from. Kinda wondering if we’re gonna see a lamia or an okami next... Is this a side effect of the Akrida? Possibly connected to the weird pink energy she’s pulling from all the vanquished monsters? And her “siren” pirate radio persona of Rockin Roxy? Is that the beacon drawing the monsters in somehow?

We learn Lata’s parents are both dead, a long time ago. She contacts other people “back home” to ask what they might know about escaping and/or destroying the monster. So at least she’s got a lead.

And Ford is also listening to Rockin Roxy when the monster comes for him at Mary’s house. I sense a theme here... But poor Ford, nobody bothered to explain to him that even the porch is beyond the protective zone of the magic spells. He could’ve called Mary for help here, but there’s also a little Dean-esque guilt infusing this boy, and personal responsibility to save his little sister he was charged with protecting. The sack spits out his sister’s Twinkle Star barrette, Ford can’t resist picking it up, and he’s snatched too.

Mary and John arrive back with cheeseburgers (!). So they search the house to no avail. Betty arrives to check up on Ford, and she’s let her hair down. But she’s surprised to find John there, and he gets to prove just how bad a liar he is... Mary finds the open back door, and another scrap of sack. 

John in roundabout way basically tells Betty that it’s over between them. She’d been expecting to “talk” about their relationship when he got back, and John’s just... moved on, which kinda surprises Betty, but she handles it like a champ. She’s such a good person I need to reiterate nothing bad better happen to her.

Also, John’s jacket sleeves. He’s like Sam, needs to find a tall dude shop so he can get his wrists covered lolololol.

But that distraction was just long enough for Mary to make her choice to throw herself at the monster, too. She’s next door where John can’t stop her in time, calling him over the radio. She tells him her plan, and he begs her not to. It’s clear how attached he’s become to her, if not as a True Love situation, at least as a redemption symbol for himself. He’s hitched his wagon to her mission as a way to redeem his personal lost legacy too, but he can help her save HER father even when he was unable to save his own, as well. He has a LOT riding on her, not even counting the whole Destiny™ nonsense they get wrapped up in from SPN canon.

She pushes John to take care of business, to find a way to get her back out again, and she’ll handle the rest. There’s a lot of tangled emotion here. She’s pulling a Classic Dean Move, but she’s also latched on to John as Someone Who Finds Things™. And he DOES. But finding her SPECIFICALLY?! What better person to have gone on the insane revenge mission John takes upon himself after Mary’s death. He can’t find her anymore, but he’s driven to find the thing that killed her, right? This feels like the seeds of that mission.

John figures out where she is, runs next door and arrives just in time to catch the bag writhing on the floor. He has a mission, though. Mary will protect the kids until John can figure how to save them. But she’s got her Dad’s Indiana Jones hat, and runs off to protect at the sound of a scream.

(what’s with the weird jensen ackles face in the room mary wakes up, which looks a lot like a weird closet filled with dress up clothes... my “the bunker has a secret wardrobe room that Dean has fully stocked” headcanon rides again)

Back to Ada and Carlos, and the demon now trapped in a salt circle. She taunts the demon as she prepares a spell, and he taunts her back that she couldn’t pull it off, reminder that she was possessed by his “buddy” for a while and they apparently had chats about Ada... but Ada has the upper hand (the one about to bleed the one drop of blood and trap him in a bonsai tree forever). He breaks.

He doesn’t really know very much, escaped hell, made a deal with the Akrida who’s possessing a human, but there are too many of them to be stopped. And he doesn’t know anything else, so Ada traps him in the bonsai so he can’t go back to hell and tell the rest of the demons what they’re up to, and they’ll have him contained in case they need to ask him anything else. Smart, honestly.

John pleads with Lata. He wants to go after mary, into the sack. She tells him no. He tells her that Hunting, the life he’s just learning about now, is the first thing that’s ever made sense to him, and none of that works without Mary. Lata agrees to take one more shot, contacting a mystery person who might not even want to talk to her... what deep backstory lurks in there, Lata? She contacts the mystery person who DOES give her helpful info, but she ends the call with something like “Tell Mom I’m safe, that’s all she needs to know.” So is her mother NOT dead? Are her parents in hiding? Are they hunters, too? Is she referring to an adoptive mother and not her actual mom? WHO ARE YOU, LATA?!

Carrie and Ford run for their lives from the monster still in Torment His Food Mode, when Mary finds them and chops it to bits. They run for it when the monster reconstitutes, and hide in a storage room filled with zippo lighters-- such an important item for hunters everywhere!

They know how to defeat the thing, but the only way to save people inside the sack already is for them to willingly let go of their beloved item that’s holding them there. Which is nine kinds of awful thinking about 15.18, isn’t it?

John realizes he doesn’t even have to go into the sack to get this info to Mary, though. If the monster has a CB radio in its collection, she might hear him through that. She does. But the radio is in another cubicle filled with sound equipment. John tells them how to get out, and Mary thinks she’s in for an ordeal getting Carrie to give up her beloved bunny, but she’s already pulling it apart when Mary turns back to her. Ford follows suit, snapping the barrette in half. They zap out, leaving Mary to deal with letting go of Samuel’s hat.

Mary can’t get the hat to burn. The fire just curves around the brim, like it’s her will controling the flame. Like humans control our own destiny (hur hur hur). She isn’t willingly letting go of what the hat represents-- not just her missing father, but what comes next for her once she does find him. John frames at as her being willing to let go of hunting, and her identity as a hunter, but again, I think it’s a lot more complex than that. 

She’s committed to quitting hunting once she finds her dad, but also says, “Hunting is all I have.” And like.. that’s not even remotely true. She has her family, her friends, everything she’s learned, too. But it’s about her identity, the fact she doesn’t know who she is if she’s not hunting (which is something I don’t think she even figured out after her return in s12, either... but I think we’re gonna learn who she is right alongside her now).

John spent his entire life looking for his dad (going as far as enlisting in the marines to fight in Vietnam before coming home to find a lead from a mysterious vanishing stranger and a key that literally led him right to Mary...). And he WANTS to keep hunting, he’s identifying with it! Thinks it’s his future, even if Mary wants out! John tells her she doesn’t have to figure it all out right now, but just to be open to figuring it out. As the monster crawls under the door and closes in on Mary, she lets go. Almost like she’s surrendering CONTROL over her life just a little bit, and the hat burns.

The monster crawls out of the sack in reality, Lata shoves it, John kills it, and Carrie stomps it with “STUPID MONSTER.”

The kids are reunited with their mom, Betty is back to close the case, with her hair back up again. She returns an engagement ring he’d given her a long time ago, when they were too young. They won’t get a happy ending together, but she wants to be friends. She cares about John. PROTECT HER.

Mary tries to thank John for helping her, but he won’t hear it. “You did the hard part.” Mary says she’s taking a break, at least for a night, and then... punches John in the shoulder like a good pal and goes off to the movies alone. To see The Omega Man (which Dean referenced in 2.09 Croatoan). She’s a dime short at the ticket window, and a man behind her offers to cover it. For a second, I thought it was John, but it’s just Random Guy Who Likes Seeing Movies Alone, and offers to see this one “alone, together.” So Mary has a weird date with Not-John.

Meanwhile, John is back at Monster Clubhouse having a drink with Lata, and he’s being just as supportive of her as he was of Mary. <3 Lata reminds him of the two rare monsters in a row, that it must be connected. When Carlos and Ada return and tell them yes, through the Akrida, who’s impersonating a human woman and is powerful enough to terrify demons.

Who is she? We cut to Rockin Roxy, guaranteed to bring the rarest hellraisers from near and far... lolol anvils much? The spooky sound? Percy Sledge.

MONTAGE!

John starts to burn the monster bag, but walks away before it’s done and an akrida comes in and takes it. Mary leaves the theater with her new friend and there are SO many lens flares. So many.

I do not claim to be good at screenshots.

We see Ada angrily pulling a bit off her bonsai demon while Carlos watches from the other room, concerned. Lata looks at the old timey phone, like she’s upset about something.

And we see the Akrida buglet deliver the bag to Roxy, who pulls another flask worth of shiny red/pink energy from it, like she did from last week’s monster. I think she’s luring the monsters to Lawrence, using the Monster Club to take care of them for her, and then harvesting their energy for her own purposes. But what are her purposes? Building a weapon, integrating herself into this world, other magical purposes? To be determined...

[dreamwritesimagines]

Burn The Witch 2 - First Impressions [Bucky Barnes x Reader]

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support and feedback to the first chapter my loves ! ❤ Here’s chapter 2, I hope you like it as well and please let me know what you think! ❤ Thank you! ❤❤❤

Word Count: 2500

Warnings: Mentions of blood, sex, violence, death, manipulation, language.

Summary: First impressions can be wrong.

Chapter 1 

Being a spy for years had taught you to be able to tell whether a mission would be dangerous or not before they even sent you there.

For example, the mission they had put you on three years ago where you had to poison the target in a very crowded ballroom while pretending to be an artifacts expert was a dangerous one.

Or five years ago when you had quite literally brought a dagger into a gun fight in a storage unit, that was also quite dangerous.

But something told you that going after Bucky Barnes would be the most dangerous mission you’d ever had so far, and you weren’t even going to be engaged in a fight.

Instead you were expected to make him fall in love with you, which-

To be honest, engaging in a fight would’ve been much easier.

“This is unacceptable.” Your best friend paced in the empty conference room while you nibbled on the chocolate, keeping your eyes on your phone. “You should’ve said no.”

“I can’t say no, it’s a mission.”

“No, it’s my father treating you like a—like a—“ she threw her hands up, “Honey trap!”

You shrugged your shoulders, scrolling down on the screen but then looked up when she snapped her fingers in front of your eyes.

“Y/N!”

“Chloe if I nail this mission, I’ll get the position I want. I could be a handler next year, do you know how big that is?”

“You need to stop pretending like you’re fine with this.”

“You’re sending me the files tonight right?” you asked, ignoring her huff of impatience and she sat down, crossing her arms.

“Yes,” she said, “Everything there is to know about Bucky Barnes is in there, lots of things you could use. I gathered it myself. His past, his interests back then, what he has been doing since he got here, his favorite porn, his favorite musicians—“

“I’m sorry, what was that last one?”

“His favorite musicians?” she played dumb, grinning and you shifted your weight.

“You wouldn’t do that background check on me, would you?”

Her grin widened as she wiggled her brows, “Just so you know, you’re such a cliché.”

“Jesus Christ.” You slipped a little in your seat, your cheeks burning, “I hate you so much.”

“No you don’t,” she sang and you tried to focus on the screen, but the door to the conference room opened, gathering your attention. Your jaw dropped as soon as you saw the figure stepping inside and you jumped on your feet as Chloe gasped.

“Keith?”

Keith was the third member of your small friend group. He was a field agent just like you were, and for years you, Chloe and Keith had always had each other’s backs, in or outside of missions.

Back at the academy you were inseparable and it had been months since you had last seen him.

“Figured I’d find you two here,” he said, “I just followed the scent of despair.”

“I thought you were still in Prague!” You rushed to hug him and he ruffled your hair before you batted his hand away.

“I was but I got called in at 5 in the morning. General’s orders.”

“It was about time my father did something right.” Chloe came to kiss his cheek, making him grin, “Gosh, it’s so good to have you back!”

“Good to be back, gorgeous,” he lifted her up in a hug before setting her down as she squealed, “I missed you.”

Your jaw dropped when you saw the file in his hand, “Hold on. Is that what I think it is?”

“It could be,” he told you, “That is, if you’ll have me in your mission.”

“The best news I got since I landed.” You pumped your fist in the air “Yes! Yes I do want you in the mission!”

“So then,” he said as he sat beside you and put his feet up on the table while you leaned back, “Is what I heard true?”

“Yes and you need to tell her she’s being ridiculous,” Chloe motioned at you and Keith pursed his lips.

“I just thought we put this whole honey trap thing behind us back in 1950s.”

“Exactly!”

“Guys come on, if Accords pass—screw that, even if they don’t pass, think about how we can use Barnes.”

Keith clicked his tongue, tilting his head.

“Will we use him more than we’re using you right now?” he asked and you rolled your eyes, grabbing the file in his hand.

“Your alias is Whistler this time?”

“Yep,” he nodded, “General says yours is Shrike?”

“Mm hm.”

“Considering what this Barnes mission entails, I’m surprised he didn’t call you Swallow.”

You kicked at his boot and he let out a laugh, holding his hands up.

“What? That was the terminology back in the day for agents seducing people for the mission, wasn’t it? Raven for guys, swallow for girls.”

“Hilarious,” you deadpanned and Chloe sat on the table, still pouting.

“You’re both fine with this then?”

“Chloe, the guy was around in World War 2,” you said patiently, “If I don’t want to sleep with him, I’ll just tell him I’m waiting for marriage, it’s probably not a foreign concept for him, old times and all. Happy?”

She arched a brow, “If you say so,” she said, “But you know there are examples of undercover agents falling for their targets, right? Especially in situations like these.”

Keith chuckled, “Yeah, that’d make a great story for your grandchildren.”

“Except that I wouldn’t get to have those grandchildren because I’d be killed.”

“Don’t say that!”

“Just let me know beforehand if the Winter Soldier decides to make an honest woman out of you,” Keith said and you stuck your tongue out at him.

“Look at you, making jokes.”

“I’m a funny guy, thank you very much,” he said, “So what are we doing tonight?”

“Killing some Hydra scum,” you said, “There’s this gallery opening, apparently evil guys love art nowadays. Who knew?”

“You need a spotter?”

“Sure thing.”

“After you guys are done killing that target, can we hang out?” Chloe asked, “We need to catch up.”

“Only if I get to pick the movie,” Keith made a face, “I don’t trust your taste after the last time.”

“10 Things I Hate About You is a classic!”

“Do you want to hear the one thing I hate about you, Chloe? Spoiler, it’s your taste in movies.”

“Play nice, kids,” you said, skimming the lines on the screen and Chloe huffed.

“Fine. And after that, we can work on the seduction mission.”

“You’re in on that as well?” Keith asked and Chloe nodded.

“Duh.”

“Look at us, Charlie’s Angels is back.” Keith said, “Wait, does that mean General is Charlie?”

You supressed a laugh and shook your head fondly, looking at Keith.

“I missed you, asshole.”

“Missed you too, trouble.”

                                                       ***

Working for the division you did had its advantages, and it never stopped to surprise you how you could always get the newest gadgets before going on missions. Chloe had installed certain features into your “sniper costume” as she put it, and one of them was a ring that would call the nearby agents of your team to your location, and the other one was a ski mask that was both bulletproof and could change your voice.

“Batman does it, why not you?” she had said before making you try it.

“Shrike, ma’am?” Keith’s voice echoed in your ear and you adjusted your earpiece before checking the harness around your waist, just in case you needed to jump off the building. Your team was already in position if you were in any way compromised, and you started setting your sniper rifle.

“Since when do you call me ma’am?” you asked Keith and he chuckled.

“Since they put you in charge of a team.”

“Don’t listen to him, guys,” you said to the rest of the team and took a look at the city lights, taking a deep breath.

Rooftops were always peaceful, even when you were holding a sniper rifle.

“ETA of the target?”

“Two minutes.” Keith said and you pressed your lips together, pointing the rifle at the entrance of the gallery, looking through the scope.

“So I think I found a movie for tonight,” Keith said as you shook your head slightly, trying to focus.

“Later.”

“James Bond?” he asked, “We can take a shot every time the movie gets something wrong about being a spy. We’ll probably be hammered by the end of the night.”

“One minute, Shrike.” One of the agents said and you exhaled through your mouth, your finger on the trigger.

“No seriously, don’t you guys like James Bond? I think it’s because of that movie I chose this line of work, but—“ Keith was cut off when you pulled the earpiece out of your ear to have a moment of silence so that you could concentrate when the target arrived, but as soon as you grabbed the rifle again, you heard the familiar sound of someone racking the slide of a gun, followed by a calm voice.

“Easy there,” he said, “Put the rifle down.”

You cursed at yourself in your head, then withdrew your hands from the rifle. Your earpiece was off, meaning that no one in your team could hear you, and you checked whether you could grab the gun from him, but he wasn’t standing close enough.

Professional.

You held up your hands, then slowly turned to see who was threatening you before your heart dropped to your stomach.

Damn it.

This was definitely not the way you were supposed to meet Bucky Barnes.

Thankfully you were wearing a ski mask, so your identity wouldn’t be compromised and the next time you met him, you could pretend.

And he would be none the wiser.

You pressed on the ring Chloe had given you to alert the others, keeping your eyes on the barrel of the gun.

“I thought I saw a glimpse of a scope.”

“Congratulations,” you deadpanned, trying to stall so that your team could get there, “You want a watch as a prize? A refrigerator?”

He looked almost surprised at your snarky comment and you shrugged your shoulders.

“Listen, it’s my target. So if you want to kill him, too bad. I was here first, early bird and all that, shoo.”

Even you could see his confusion that lasted for a second and a small smile pulled at your lips.

“Ah. You don’t know who my target is.”

“I know I’m not going to let you kill someone in a pretty crowded gallery.”

“Even if it’s some Hydra scum?” you asked and he pulled back.

“What?”

You stole a look at the entrance of the gallery over your shoulder as the limo pulled over.

“Mm hm. You really shouldn’t be stopping me Barnes. We got this, you can go and play the superhero with Wilson.”

“You know who I am.”

“Everyone knows who you are,” you stated, making him pause for a moment.

“I didn’t catch your name.”

You tut tutted, “Don’t be greedy.”

“Well, how do I know you’re not lying about your target if you can’t even give me your name?”

“Why would I lie about my target?”

“So that I would let you shoot him.”

“Aw, you’re cute,” you taunted him, tilting your head, “But I don’t recall asking for your permission.”

He stared at you for a couple of seconds.

“Who are you?” he asked and you grinned as you heard the footsteps coming closer.

“Until next time, soldier.” You said as the team burst through the door, guns blazing. He turned around to point his gun at the agents, immediately taking cover as you picked up the rifle again.

It was time to get back to work.

You looked through the scope, found the target and pulled the trigger, blood splattering over the walls and chaos erupted over the street instantly, people screaming and running everywhere. You looked over your shoulder to see your team managing to keep Barnes busy with the constant gunshots, then you checked the harness around your waist again and jumped over the roof to land on top of the car waiting for you in the street. The rope went up to the roof as you unbuckled it and got into the car, pulling the ski mask off your face.

“You weren’t compromised, right?” Keith asked and you shook your head.

“I’m not an amateur,” you said as he stepped on the gas, the car breezing through the road. 

“You don’t look so happy,” Keith said after taking a look at you and you pursed your lips together, deep in thought.

“He didn’t take me hostage.”

“Hm?”

“When the team burst through the door and I turned around to kill the target. He’s a super soldier, he could’ve grabbed me, use me as a leverage to get out of there. That’s what I’d do but he didn’t attack me or the team, he took cover.”

“So?”

“Keith, it’s the fucking Winter Soldier we’re talking about. He can kill a team of agents in seconds, but I bet he just got out of there. Without hurting anyone.”

“Maybe he’s just a good person.” Keith chuckled and you slipped a little in the seat, biting at your fingernails.

“I guess.”

“Would it be so bad?”

“It would make no difference,” you muttered, keeping your eyes on the city lights, “Good person or not, he’s my mission.”

“Clearly, but aren’t you going to feel just a little guilty if he ends up being a good guy?”

You scoffed a laugh and turned to him.

“I’m no use to anyone if I develop a guilty conscience,” you stated, “Much less to myself. You know that.”

A silence fell upon the car before he heaved a sigh.

“Listen, Chloe has a point as always,” he said, “These kind of missions are hard, okay? The longer you’re playing your part, the easier it will be to believe it. Feelings get involved, there are bunch of agents who ended up hesitating when it was time to bring their target in, so if you—“

“I won’t hesitate.”

“Y/N.”

“I won’t hesitate,” you repeated, “I swear. The minute this mission is over, I’ll bring him in. Orders are orders.”

Keith let out a whistle, “If you say so.”

You bit inside your cheek and leaned your head on the window, fixing your gaze outside.

“Considering the lack of alternatives,” you rasped out, “Yeah. Yeah I do say so.”  

Chapter 3