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winterscaptain · 4 years ago

Text

infirmity.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader

a/n: part four of our 100 arc, covering 5x02, haunted! I forgot how much i love this episode, so i really leaned into this one. it’s a labor of love!! i can’t wait to hear what you all think (i crave feedback and affection) and if you reblog, i’d love to see your cheeky lil thoughts in the tags!!

words: 4.3k warnings: language, bad decisions

summary: “a friend should bear his friend’s infirmities” - william shakespeare, julius caesar.

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | requests closed!

You knock on the door at 8:30 sharp. Almost thirty seconds pass before he answers, and you note the hand on his holster as he opens the door.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” you chirp. “Ready to go?”

He turns, gathering his things. “What do we know about this case in Kentucky?”

Thrown a little by the lack of greeting, you follow him into the apartment. The sight of the Foyet files on his desk aren’t foreign to you, nor are they a surprise. They’ve been there every time you came over during his leave (in fact, you’ve sat on them more than once), so why you expected them to go away once he was back you had no idea.

“Um, no connection between Call and his victims. They’re canvassing, but no sign of him so far.”

“Start with his recent history. Find the stressor.” His voice is flat, impassive, and you frown.

He was just getting better…

You’re about to head back toward the door when -

“Don’t move.”

Right. The alarm.

He stands by to arm it. “Ready?”

“Are you?”

+++

You arrive at the tarmac, Hotch in the passenger seat of your car. He looks a little resigned, but straightens and takes a breath before he opens the door, settling into his role as he steps out and straightens his suit jacket.

It’s always a little funny to watch him transform. You’re honored you get to see it, even if he’s in rough shape.

Especially then.

You climb the stairs and follow him in, settling in your usual place.

“Good to see you,” Dave says as Aaron scoots down the aisle. It makes you smile.

“You, too.”

Aaron gets settled and you shift, trying not to hover but finding it difficult to be separated from him after his weeks of absence. He greets the rest of the team, exchanging pleasantries and checking in with Reid about his knee.

“Any other attacks?”

JJ shakes her head, while Spencer elaborates. “Call’s proven hard to track. He’s never had a driver's license so he’s probably still on foot.”

“Or public transportation,” Emily notes.

You hum. “He wouldn’t take the bus. His face is everywhere.”

“Has anyone found a stressor?” You weren’t sure if Aaron’s brusque affect was going to continue once you made it to the plane, but his tone just about answers your question.

Stepping back into authority quickly, there, Aaron.

“He just lost his job,” Garcia supplies. “He’s worked at a factory since 1990. Made appliances since forever and not a single promotion.”

Derek tilts his head. “That’s a long time to be bitter.”

“Or he doesn’t care?”

JJ looks at Spencer and shakes her head. “Not if he’s got a family to feed.”

“Actually, he’s of the hermit variety as far as I can tell. He’s got no one. No wife, no kids, no parents.” You watch Garcia’s eyes flicker around the screen as she talks to you, doing what she does best.

“Nothing to live for.” Derek’s looking a little too pointedly at Aaron for your taste, but your evaluation is interrupted.

“So why hasn’t he killed himself yet?”

Your brain sputters at Aaron’s offhand delivery. “What?”

“Sprees usually end in suicide. If he’s got nothing to live for, why hasn’t he ended it?”

The energy in the room grows uncomfortable, fast. Aaron’s voice is still flat - you might go so far as to say it sounds dead, but that inspires a kind of heavy sullenness in your chest you’d rather not subject yourself to.

You wish Haley was around for no other reason but to kick his ass.

You’re thankful for Spencer when he answers Hotch’s question. “Because he isn’t finished, yet. We know he has displaced anger. He took it out on the first victim.”

“Well,” Aaron continues, “the stock boy represents someone. We need to know who.”

You meet Derek’s eyes and you can tell he’s trying to read you - trying to see if you’re as concerned as he is. You don’t give him the satisfaction.

+++

Later, you corner Morgan on the plane before landing, keeping your voice low. The case is in your lap so there’s a valid distraction when you need one.

“What’s wrong with you?”

He stops and turns. “I thought Hotch was cleared to drive.”

“He is.”

“Then why did you pick him up this morning?”

You shrug. “I wanted to.” His eyes bore into the side of your head and you look up with an exasperated huff. “What?”

He sighs. “He’s only had a month off.”

“Well,” you say, aware that you’re being pedantic before you even get there, “thirty-four days. That’s a little more than a month.”

His stare is withering, but you’re impervious. “And you think that’s long enough?”

“Are you asking me as his coworker or as his friend?”

“Is there a difference?”

You shrug. “Maybe.” Yes. “But if you don’t think he’s had enough time, you should tell him.”

He scoffs. “No thanks. I like my job.”

“You like him more.” A little smile crosses your face. “Though, I know you don’t like to think so.”

“No. I like you.” Derek corrects. “He also happens to like you, so I tolerate him for your benefit.”

“Much appreciated.” You return to your work, but Derek’s eyes linger. You don’t look up as you ask, “What?”

“What if he has PTSD?”

Still writing, you answer with a general air of nonchalance. “He was evaluated.”

“Oh, come on. We wrote those questions. Hotch knows exactly -“

You slam your pen down and lean back with your arms crossed. You draw Spencer's eyes and lower your voice again. “So, what? Are you going to pick at me until you get me to say something you want me to say?” You let out a sardonic chuff, settling back to work. “If that’s the case, you’re gonna be here a while.” You tip your head a little toward the little table by the window. “Your coffee’s getting cold.”

You admittedly feel a little bad for being short with him, but everything seems to be testing your patience today.

And if you’re honest, you’re worried about Aaron, too.

After a few minutes of work in silence, you call out to him again. There’s the smallest of apologies in your voice. “Derek?”

He looks at you, dark eyes open and yielding - concerned and forgiving. “Yeah?”

“He’s back because he has to be. He needs to know we’re here for him.”

“He knows that.”

You offer him a small smile. “Don’t let him forget it.” You pause, your head wavering a little bit as your tone turns a touch facetious. “I can’t do all the heavy lifting around here.”

You get a laugh out of him - just a little one - and it’s enough. “Don’t push it, kid. I remember when you were dead weight.”

You roll your eyes.

That’s enough, for now.

+++

Even your seemingly-endless patience with Aaron rapidly wanes as you spend more time at the crime scene. It’s frustrating.

“He was on an antipsychotic?” You ask with a little frown.

The pharmacist nods. “Well, that’s why I wanted him to calm down. He’s been off of them at least a month, now.”

“And when were you going to tell us this?” Aaron asks, harsh and sharp.

You look at him, your frown deepening.

What the fuck is that attitude?

“He’s armed, he’s delusional. Who’s his doctor?” Hotch’s tone grows even pointier, somehow, as he pushes harder.

“I don’t remember - my computer…” She gestures behind the desk, where the computer has been fried by a bullet.

“Great. That’s great.” He walks away, already making a call.

“Excuse us,” you say in an attempt to recover. Derek echoes you and you try to avoid running after Hotch as he strides down the aisle.

Long-legged asshole. Slow down.

“Hotch,” you call. He doesn’t listen.

“Call JJ and tell her about the meds.” He’s still walking. You’ve caught up.

Derek chimes in, gesturing back at the pharmacist. “This is not her fault.”

Aaron turns on him. “Morgan, he’s in a psychotic break. It changes everything.”

“You want to talk about this?” Derek asks, taking another step closer.

Squaring up to Derek’s shoulder, you’re ready to pull them apart if they get really heated.

Wouldn’t be the first time.

In some ways, Morgan’s admission on the plane was truer than he let on. You are the link between Derek and Aaron, almost like a balm. You see things in them that they can’t see in each other. It helps.

With a pang, you think of Haley, for some reason.

You miss her.

“No.” Aaron’s interruption is sharp and it startles you out of your thoughts. “I want to find him - Garcia,” he turns, continuing on his warpath forward, “he’s been off his antipsychotic for a month. What else did you miss?”

Your mouth drops open and Derek’s about to deck Aaron while his back is turned. You push in front of Derek, getting between them to give him a chance to cool off. The last thing you want is to handle more wound dressings - for either one of them.

Aaron hangs up and walks out after what you imagine is a rather unilluminating update from Penelope. You turn, putting your hand on Derek’s shoulder and looking him in the eye.

Still think he’s alright? His eyes ask.

You grit your teeth. I don’t know.

+++

The psychiatrist and patient lay dead on the floor, Call nowhere in sight. Derek directs the local officers to check the perimeter, just in case.

You look at Hotch, who still doesn’t look completely checked in, himself.

Or maybe he looks too checked in?

I don’t know.

You’d be lying if you said his behavior didn’t freak you out. Though he’s standing beside you, you miss him.

Come back to me.

You miss the man who pliantly sat under your hands as you washed his wounds and brought him takeout and forced him to take naps in the middle of the afternoon on a weekday.

You miss the man who fought you for the remote and stole far too many of your fries, who would change the channel if you made the mistake of going to the bathroom on a commercial break.

That man was with you as late as Saturday. Returning has brought something else out in him, the part of him that spent (often very) late nights looking for Foyet has risen to the forefront.

“We’re too late.”

Before the rest of you can do anything, Aaron leaves the room, pushing past Dave in his haste to leave.

Emily calls after him, but he’s long gone down the hallway. They look at you.

All you can do is shake your head with a downturned curve of your mouth.

+++

After a little while, you go downstairs and find Hotch outside. Before you can say anything -

“I should have seen the blinking on the video.”

You huff at him. “Hotch, it could have been a nervous tic. You couldn’t have known - none of the records were available, yet.”

“But it wasn’t a tic. It’s a classic sign of long-term antipsychotic use, and I missed it.”

You step in front of him, squarely meeting his eyes. “We all missed it.”

He’s got another pessimistic jab that you choose to ignore just before Emily and Dave arrive with news from Garcia.

Oh, Aaron.

+++

The officer huffs. “I don’t care why he took him.”

Aaron had, once again, escalated the situation with local police. Tensions are high, and you only hope he can get his shit together at some point. “You should.”

Goddamn it, Aaron.

He continues, advancing on the police captain. “Call’s memory is no longer suppressed. He’s reinventing his past and unless we understand how, we’re not going to find either of them.”

“Well, I’m not gonna just sit around and speculate.”

It’s an old-fashioned Western standoff, now.

Who’s Clint Eastwood?

Well, Hotch has the looks but -

Quit.

Fine.

“Then don’t.”

The captain turns to you, Emily, and Dave. “You don’t think we should chase him either?”

“We need to get ahead of Call,” Dave answers evenly.

The captain looks at Aaron once more before storming off. The rest of you approach Hotch, and Emily’s a little frustrated when she reminds him, “There’s a kid missing.”

“They don’t need the extra manpower.”

You squint at him. “Since when?”

“If we had studied Foyet’s initial crimes -”

Oh for the love of fuck.

“- we would have known that a survivor didn’t make sense.”

“What does he have to do with this?”

Great question, Emily.

“All we had to do was stop and look at Foyet’s history. But we didn’t, and we lost two couples and a bus full of people. I am not making that mistake again.” He leaves the three of you stunned in his wake. After a moment, you follow him.

You always do.

+++

“Let’s go.”

You’ve got the address to the unsub’s home and you take the car with Aaron, the rest of the team following behind you.

He drives fast, but that’s nothing new. He throws the siren and floors it. You call SWAT yourself, getting Derek prepared for staging.

When you get out of the car, you throw your vest on, helping Emily with the straps across her shoulders before she can reach them themselves.

“Prentiss,” Aaron says, putting his earwig in. “Check in with the lieutenant, see if there’s anything we can use.”

She nods. “Yes, sir.”

“You good?” You ask, looking over at him.

“Yeah, I’m good.”

You throw your head to the side, and he takes your flank as you get closer to Emily. Her briefing with this particular lieutenant could go sideways, but you don’t want to leave him feeling trapped.

“...The kid’s in there. We got this. Tactical teams are covering the exits. He’s still focused on the old man.”

Emily squints, adjusting her comm. “For now, but we’re gonna have to figure out the safest way to get that kid out.”

“I’ve got a team in the back and one on the way. We’re going to infiltrate.”

“You do that and someone else dies.” The balance of firm and collaborative rests delicately on her tone. She’s doing well.

“Either Call or a child murder. Flip a coin.”

His tone frustrates you, but you leave Emily to her devices, checking your magazines for the third time. Your sidearm is in place, as is your backup.

“It doesn’t have to end like that. We get a confession out of Jarvis and he goes away, and Call gets his answers. No one else has to die.” She pauses, and a streak of white flashes in your peripheral. “Hotch!”

You whirl, ready to sprint after him as he walks decisively past the rest of you, past the gate, and into the house. After a moment’s hesitation, you make a break for it. A wall of arms stops you, and you know Derek’s behind you when you hear, “What the hell is he doing?”

No vest...Is he even carrying his gun?

“Let him go.”

You turn on Dave, your face plastered with fear and fury. “What do you mean let him go. Rossi -”

“I’m not letting him go in there solo.” Derek pushes against Dave again, but to your surprise, he’s locked in tight.

“We have to trust him.”

That cools Derek off, but not you. You thrash, freeing yourself from one of the local cops. “The hell we do.”

“Kid - wait, no.” The roles reverse, and Derek catches up to you and locks you in his arms before you can breach the perimeter. Your elbows don’t land against his vest, but you sure try. “You’ll get him killed.”

There’s only stress and silence as you stop struggling. All you can do is wait.

Derek keeps his arm around you, but you almost feel like the contact is for both of you. You take deep breaths, trying to slow your heart rate. It’s through the roof.

“What’s he doing?” Emily asks into her mic.

Dave leans into his comm. “Stalling.”

You can almost feel Derek’s jaw tightening. “He has nothing to lose.”

He has everything to lose.

You have everything to lose.

Don’t be a hero, Aaron. Don’t do anything stupid.

You hope that he can hear you somehow.

Too late.

Hotch appears in the window, followed by the boy.

There’s a quick SWAT conversation in your ear.

“Do you have the shot?”

“Negative, negative.”

He’s blocking the shot.

Goddamn you, Aaron. Goddamn you.

“Bringing the boy out,” a faceless voice on the radio says. The hostage runs down off the porch and you catch a glimpse of Aaron before he disappears behind the door again.

You turn your head a touch, keeping your eyes on the door. “Get him out of there.”

Dave shakes his head. “That’s his call.”

Your body is wound tighter than a coil and you’re not sure if you’re ready to storm in there or just start walking home.

There’s a gunshot, and you’re out of there like a bat out of hell. You launch yourself over the short fence and attach yourself to the first SWAT agent you see, remembering your training at the last moment.

You breach the house and find Aaron cuffing Darin, whose father is dead in the armchair in front of him. Your jaw has never been tighter.

Once you confirm that he is in fact still alive and still only has nine holes in him, you turn on your heel and you storm out of the house. You don’t stop until you’re leaning on the front of one of the cars, trying to catch your breath. Your hands shake and you don’t trust your knees to hold you up.

The relief wars with something hot and unpleasant, leaving you more exhausted than you’ve been in weeks.

You keep your head turned away from Aaron as he approaches you. It’s petty, but you also don’t want him to see the fear on your face.

He calls you with a sigh in his voice and it finally ignites the fear into anger.

“I can’t fucking believe you,” you spit. Your voice isn’t loud, but it certainly carries. JJ’s eyes flicker to you from the other side of the yard. “What kind of stunt are you trying to pull? Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

His jaw tightens. “Let’s not do this here.”

Your brow draws across your eyes and your mouth opens, indignant. “Let’s not do this here? You’re fucking kidding me.”

In his current state, nothing is off the table. His temper is running short and you know you’re capable of pushing him until he breaks. It hasn’t happened yet, but today might be it.

Much to your surprise, a sigh leaves him, and he knows he’s stepped in it. “It was stupid. I’m sorry.”

You scoff, shaking your head.

His remorse only stokes your anger. Go figure.

“You’re sorry? You’re sorry. You could have died, Hotch. What you did was so beyond protocol I don’t even know if I should start with the necessity of your life because we need you as our unit chief or the importance of your safety as my friend -” You cut yourself off and look away from him, frustrated you even got that far.

He has nothing to say to that. You’re completely right. The guilt might as well be written across his face in Sharpie.

His absence fucked with you, to say the least. It felt awful, empty, in the field without him. And then when you were home - well, back at the apartment, he was only ever in pain.

Overall, your anxiety regarding his health and safety is riding high.

Much to your frustration, your eyes water, and your lower lip shakes - angry tears an ever-present threat. Your arms cross over your chest. “I can’t even look at you right now.”

He reaches out for your arm, but you throw him off before he can make contact, turning your head. You stare at the ground, watching him flounder out of the corner of your eye.

“Go. Go do your fucking job, Hotch.” His nickname is acid in your mouth. It feels like a punishment, a lash of a whip. He doesn’t move, and you turn on him, meeting his guilty brown eyes with your flinty ones. “Go. Make the arrest. They’re waiting on you.” You throw your chin to Derek and Emily, who are indeed waiting for him on the porch with the unsub.

With another heavy sigh, he turns and rejoins the rest of your team.

You stay where you are, directing coroner and local law enforcement personnel to relevant staging areas as the crime scene is processed and handled. Aaron’s eyes try to find yours, but you avoid them, focusing on someone, anyone else with crisp professionalism that hardly belies your fear.

You’ve never been so angry in your life. Even if you have, you can’t remember it feeling this wretched.

+++

He sits beside you on the plane once you’re up in the air and leans forward with his elbows on his knees. The rest of the team sleeps scattered around the cabin, but you suspect that at least one of them is faking it, waiting for some kind of spectacle or spectacular blowup between the two of you.

You haven’t spoken to Aaron since leaving the crime scene. You drove back to the precinct with Emily and Dave, staying close to JJ and Spencer while you packed your things. There’s a part of you that feels bad for creating what Strauss would call a “hostile work environment,” but the other part can’t bring itself to care.

You can’t even begin to articulate the fear that coursed through you as you waited for him outside that house. You couldn’t begin to explain the extent of your fear, but after the stabbing and the removal of Haley and Jack from your lives, the prospect of losing him in the field was beyond unbearable.

It’s frustrating to feel so comforted by his proximity while you’re still so angry with him. The familiarity of it all hardly blunts your anger. If anything, the relief at having him back at your side sharpens your anger into something that scares you.

The impossibility of it is beyond measure. You’ve known for some time now, but this is the first you’re willing to admit it.

I love him.

Fuck.

You love him. You love his son. You love his wife.

You love the weird look he gets on his face when he has to say “penetration” while he’s delivering a profile. You love the way he tries not to smile when Emily beats Spencer at chess. You love the way he twiddles with pens when he’s thinking or nervous or both. You love that each of his smiles feel like a gift just for you.

There’s nothing you don’t love about him.

Except, of course, the way he, with profound idiocy, endangered his life today for no particular reason in addition to his generally asshole-ish behavior.

“I would say I’m sorry, but I’m sure you know that.”

You do.

He waits on you, quiet and still.

You take a deep breath, finally looking at him. “You scared the hell out of me.”

He nods, his jaw flexing.

“Don’t do it again.”

He blinks once, slowly. You know he can’t promise that, but you appreciate his acknowledgment nevertheless. There’s quiet for a moment.

“Aaron…” You look at him, nothing but concern in your tone.

He shakes his head. “Don’t.”

“I was just going to say…” You swallow, trying to find better words but coming up short. “We’ll get him.”

+++

Derek’s voice echoes down to the bullpen as you finish up the last few pieces of your paperwork. “I will not stand by and watch this man kill himself.”

Aaron’s door is closed as he works. You’re not sure if you’re thankful for that, or if you’d rather he hear it. You can’t really hear Dave - not that you’d want to, you’re almost as pissed at him as you are at Aaron - but it doesn’t matter. You know what he has to say.

Derek’s voice drops lower than you can hear. Dave drops his head.

Moments later, Derek flies back down the stairs, grabs his jacket, and takes his leave with a cursory goodbye thrown in your direction. Dave returns to his desk and Aaron’s door finally opens.

You look up as his lights turn off, gathering your things at your desk. With a little sigh that looks a bit like defeat, he stops at your desk. The smugness doesn’t completely leave your tone. “Need a ride?”

Of course, he does. “Please.”

You rise and walk to the elevators together. In the silence, you tell him, “I’m still really mad at you.”

A sigh. “I know.”

+++

You walk him upstairs and take care of the alarm while he removes his suit jacket and throws it over the couch.

“Do you think Call’s gonna be okay?” You ask, still facing the alarm.

“I don’t know.”

“He got his answers,” you note, turning to him. “He killed the man who haunted him.”

His eyes are fixed on a spot on the carpet. “And what else is there?”

“Years of torture.” You both know you’re not talking about Call anymore, but it’s nice to pretend. It gives you the opportunity to say things you wouldn’t - shouldn’t - say to him. “Fear. Grief.”

“Think he’ll get over that?”

“How could he?” A humorless smile pulls at one corner of your mouth. “But at least he doesn't feel like he’s alone.”

He finally meets your eyes. “He doesn’t have anyone.” I don’t have anyone, his brow says.

“He has Tommy. He’s not alone.”

You have me. You’re not alone.

His brows pull low over his eyes, and you take another opportunity as it comes. “Do you want me to stay again tonight?”

“No, I’m alright.” He takes a little breath and you round the corner, pouring him a couple fingers of whiskey before making a slow, purposeful trek across the room. “Thank you,” he says, taking it.

“Of course. Anytime.” Now, you both know you aren’t talking about the drink.

Nevertheless, you pat your pockets for your keys, phone, and various federal paraphernalia, finding them all where they belong. “I should head out, then. Call if you need anything.”

He nods, watching you with quiet eyes as you close and lock the door behind you.

+++

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mittensmorgul · 5 years ago

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15.01 Back And To The Future rewatch notes

Note to anyone reading: I’ve already written a mishmosh of other posts addressing stuff in this episode, so this post is not a comprehensive list of every important or interesting thing in 15.01. This post is “things I haven’t otherwise talked about elsewhere yet” or “things I’ve been meaning to talk about in more detail but haven’t yet,” or “things I’d otherwise be compelled to write into the transcript doc in the other tab and really really shouldn’t.” Because that’s actually the purpose of this particular rewatch-- writing up the transcript. Which is happening in the other tab. :P

(i’m gonna go post the transcript now, so it should be up as soon as I get all the html un-screw-ified... >.>)

That said, let’s gooooo!

well, under a cut because long-ish >.>

I already talked about the song choice, and the fact it was the opening montage music in 9.10 (rip Lamp-- yes, this song has forever been the imaginary background music to Lamp/Other Lamp, sorry, the brain wants what the brain wants). It also reminded me of 11.04, the Night Moves scene, combined with Dean’s joke about how Piper brushed Sam off without giving him her number, and Dean replied “We got tonight, who needs tomorrow,” where Sam asks Dean if everything is a Bob Seger song to him. Because, heh, here have another Bob Seger song summing up the end of the road here.

But I love how the lyrics MATCH UP with the action in this opening scene.

♪It's been a long time since you smiled♪ [zombies circle around TFW cutting off their chance of escape] Chuck: Story's over. Welcome to the End. [Cas kneels over Jack's body] ♪Seems like oh, so long ago♪ --NOW-- [in the graveyard, the scene picks up where 14.20 left off, and the music continues uninterrupted from the Road So Far montage. TFW battle a zombie horde, as we zoom out from Jack's burned out eyes and the fighting rages on] ♪And now the stage has all been set♪ ♪And the nights are growing cold♪ ♪Soon the winter will be here♪ ♪And there's no one warm to hold♪ ♪Now the lines have all been read♪ Cas: Sam! Dean! ♪And you knew them all by heart♪ ♪Now you move toward the door♪ [Cas picks up Jack's body and runs, leading the way out of the zombie fight. Sam and Dean follow, dodging monsters and graves] ♪Here it comes the hardest part♪ ♪Try the handle of the road♪ Sam [spotting potential refuge]: Dean, this way! ♪Feeling different, feeling strange♪ ♪This can never be arranged♪ ♪From the famous final scene♪

Then there’s the DRAMATIC ZOOM in on Dean that literally cuts Cas out of the shot as Dean reacts to his line that “Well, I wouldn’t starve.” Like that was the moment Dean began to literally shut Cas out, because he feels that line was Cas shutting HIM out. So instead of trying to deal with any of that because ZOMBIES TRYING TO BREAK DOWN THE DOOR is a more immediate concern, he turns his back and goes on his little tirade about Chuck. Like he was reliving that moment he got to smash Chuck’s guitar and wishes he could do it again.

And then we meet Belphegor, who already has a rather hopping tag on my blog, so I’m gonna… just move on a bit from here…

I am in pain over this callback to Bloody Mary, with the teenage girls who seem far younger than the girls from the original. These girls are far more innocent. They didn’t call up bloody Mary, they have no guilt of having killed anyone on their souls. Bloody Mary just… showed up. And tortured and killed them.

But this parallel was twisted. In the original, the girls’ father apparently gave their mother an overdose of sleeping pills that led to her death. in the new version, one of the girls’ parents just got divorced and was compensating by going on a shopping spree and buying everything her daughter wanted. These girls were laughing, loving what that divorce brought them.

It’s sort of a more cheerful parallel to Dean and Cas’s fracturing relationship over their dead son’s body…Well, more cheerful until Bloody Mary kills them, anyway.

Sam learns there’s no sudden worldwide zombie outbreak, so the incident seems localized to that one graveyard.

And at this point I started a THIRD thing I’m working on at the same time, because two was apparently not enough. I think I’m gonna copy/paste that stuff here, instead. It’s about the Three Ghosts of this episode-- each parallelled directly to one of TFW. Bloody Mary was one, and in this episode she was Cas’s parallel. It’s her victims Cas will find-- two little girls who never deserved the fate Bloody Mary dished out to them. But Mary Worthington had been murdered herself, and her killer never caught. So she originally killed people who kept secrets about others’ deaths as a form of revenge against her own killer. In trying to protect others, she became a killer herself. And heck if that’s not painfully Cas… or something he feels he’s painfully failed to do, to protect the Winchesters from having to do horrific things. And he DID sell his own potential future happiness in exchange for Jack’s life, only to have just watched Jack die horrifically. His sacrifice, again, has amounted to nothing.

In this episode, she follows Cas from the house, through mirrors, and reappears in a dark pond to grab at the mother and child Sam had already saved from John Wayne Gacy (yeah, I’ll type that one up next, but let’s finish this first...). So there’s a being now watching Cas from the depths of a dark pool, waiting to reach up and grab him when he finally feels safe. Sounds like… the Shadow.

So on to Sam vs Clowns. Sam’s direct parallel is the ghost of John Wayne Gacy, in clown costume, that he formerly burned in 14.13. In an episode where he was about to come face to face with his own past in the form of John Winchester suddenly appearing in the bunker, torn from the past. It’s an episode where Sam and Dean find peace with who they’ve become, and lay a ghost of their past to rest.

With the Equalizer wound humming along, affecting Sam in mysterious ways we’ve only begun to glimpse, and Sam’s brief flash of himself with black eyes apparently hurting Dean, it’s hard NOT to think of the parallel that Clowns have always held for Sam-- Lucifer. Heck I’ve written about that recently, or at least it feels like I have… but at the end of this episode, Sam stops and looks Gacy in the face and tells him to shut up. Which is something Sam has ALSO said to Lucifer (or at least a hallucination of Lucifer). The infamous “HE SAID SHUT UP TO ME!” of Hallucifer in 7.15, which ended Sam’s ability to shut out the hallucination by squeezing the cut on his hand.

Now on to Dean’s parallel ghost: Constance Welch, aka the Woman in White from 1.01. A woman who was the first ghost of the entire series, who Sam literally drove into her house to “take her home,” where she had to face what she’d done to her own children. She’d killed her own children in a moment of grief after her husband cheated on her, and then killed herself.

Dean had been moments from killing Jack in 14.20, in a moment of grief, but didn’t. Yet he’s now having some serious issues with Cas throughout this episode and by the end, they’re “frosty.”

Belphegor, with Dean, looks for a human heart to use in their spell, and stumble across one of Constance’s victims. Belphegor rips out his heart and holds it up to Dean, when Constance appears. She recognizes Dean from 1.01, who made her go home, and attacks him. Then tries to attack Belphegor, and actually injures his hand.

But this is the ghost Dean is paired with. He drives her off, and Belphegor does the spell to contain the ghosts by putting the heart in a pile of salt.

Okay, now where was I in these notes… right… Town, where Sam and Dean play FBI, trying to stop a benzene pipeline leak. And wow, what a weird story, right? Sheriff was confused, but helped evacuate the townspeople to safety.

I think it’s interesting that this was intended to be another stopgap measure, like putting Jack in the box in 14.19, because they know this spell won’t hold forever, and they know they have no other reasonable way to fix the problem. But they can try to buy some time, and hope they’ll come up with a better solution before things go sideways.

Dean asks Cas to help Belphegor do the spell thing, but Cas refuses, and goes to work with Sam instead, leaving Dean to deal with the demon possessing Jack. Which leads to all sorts of interesting conversations between them… I think I’ve written and/or reblogged enough posts on the queer subtext… er… text even… of these scenes to just point out here that it exists, and is heavy.

Meanwhile Cas and Sam go house to house looking for people they need to evacuate, and encounter the above ^^ ghosts.

So Dean’s stuck with the demon fanboy who admires what Dean did in Hell, and Dean seems pretty uncomfortable about this, but it’s not like he has a choice, you know? Who else is gonna do this? Cas couldn’t, Sam’s already on the other gig, and that leaves Dean. So… instead of denying what he’d done, he brushed it off as “a long time ago.” And then actually asked what the situation in Hell was like. The answer Belphegor gave is… interesting.

Belphegor: You ever seen an ant hill when it's, like, set on fire? [lol no, according to Dean’s wtf face] Okay, well, there we were, minding our own business, you know, flaying people for eternity, like you do, right? And then every door in Hell just sprang open all at once. You know? Souls got out. Sky cracked. And, uh, boom, ta-da, you know?

So all the gates are open, including the Cage, but Michael’s apparently still just sitting there. Which is worrisome. But my question is, if all the gates are open, yet the entire planet isn’t flooding with demons and souls, ONLY through the direct portal into that graveyard, how can what Belphegor said be true? At least, theoretically… But that’s a question for another day, when we have more canon to understand.

So… Dean has to face Constance, who flings him into a dumpster. Which makes me lol think about 1.01 and Dean flinging himself off a bridge to get away from her, and ended up covered in mud.

Cas’s “It’s one ghost,” *two more ghosts appear* “It’s three.” reminded me of “I got this,” “I don’t got this.”

Sam accidentally shooting Cas because the ghost got between the two of them horrifyingly reminds me of 12.17 and Eileen accidentally shooting Mr. Top of his Class at Kendricks when Dagon deliberately came between the two of them. At least Cas is salt-proof, you know?

Belphegor calling out Bad Ghost! kinda reminds me of Dean’s “Here ghostie ghostie ghostie” from 4.13. But REALLY. A demon, who tortures souls for fun and profit, yet can’t do anything more than weakly scold a ghost like a misbehaving puppy? INTERESTING. Because it’s Dean that has to whack her with a metal rod, while Belphegor ends up with deep gouges in his hand that are clearly causing him pain.

Dean hurls the name Casper at Constance before he whacks her, which is also a callback to 1.01. It was Sam who called him out for shooting at her with regular bullets: “What were you thinking shooting Casper in the face, you freak?” Lol that he remembered that.

Sam pulled a “I’ll hold them off, I’ll hold them all off” hopeless move when he sent Cas away, like Cas once did in 4.22 when he sent Dean away to stop Sam… but Sam actually got out in one piece, even though his gun was empty.

Sam picks up the little girl and runs as fast as he can and only looks back once he’s outside and safe. Like “take your brother outside as fast as you can and don’t look back”

I already wrote about the callback of Dean distracting Sam from tending to his wound with the cut-off joke, reminding me of the scene in 4.09 of Sam doing something similar while fixing Dean’s dislocated shoulder.

And then we have the realization that they’ve never really had free will, just limited choices because of the circumstances Chuck put them in. Sam is unrealistically optimistic that it means that Chuck’s actually gone, now. But that’s the hope he’s holding on to in order to get through this horror.

So this… is what they’re setting up as the guidemap to the series finale. Specifically, Sam and Dean must finally earn their way free. The ghostpocalypse is just step one, and not the true end. There’s still Heaven and Hell to deal with (though Heaven is mostly empty of angels and Hell seems to be actively crumbling now). And Michael, whenever he gets around to walking out of the cage. I’m sure that will go great! Unhinged archangel on the loose! But those are all minor distractions compared with Chuck, because he hasn’t really gone anywhere.

And we still don’t know what Actual Jack, Billie, and the Shadow are up to in the Empty, in their secret meeting in a realm that Chuck has no power. And what about Amara? How does she feel about this now that she’s grown fond of creation? I think there’s a much bigger game afoot than just a ghostpocalypse.

Meanwhile, Sam’s quote here is still setting up the final scene of the series: When we win this, God's gone. Hm. There's no one to screw with us. There's no more maze. It's just us. And we're free.

That’s the goal.

#spn s15 spoilers #spn 15.01

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musiclovingbitch · 5 years ago

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Oh I want all of them 1-50!

Fuck. I brought this onto myself. Putting this under a read-more so that people don’t kill me.

1. What was your first fic and could you stand to reread it today?

I don’t think any of you know this but the first fic I ever wrote was a Shameless one-shot that was titled ‘Mine’ and it was just semi-good, semi-bad smut. The first and last fic I ever posted on fanfic.net, actually. I deleted it years ago and didn’t save a copy, so it’s gone forever now…

2. What’s your most recent fic and how far do you think you’ve come?

My most recent fic is Part, written for the 2019 Klaine Advent Challenge, and also the gleepotluckbigbang. I’m fallen majorly behind cause I have some studying to do, so I may take a long while to finish the rest of the klaine advent.

It’s much, much better than Mine was, lol.

3. In your opinion, what’s your best fic?

Oh, that’s so difficult. While I’m not happy with everything I’ve posted, there’s a bunch that have a special place in my heart. Escape came to mind first, partly because I love older!Blaine fics, which is kind of shocking to me cause it’s one of the very first fics I ever wrote, and statistically I tend to like my older fics less.

4. In your opinion and without looking at any numbers, what’s your most popular fic?

I have looked at the numbers before, though not recently, so I have an idea.

I think Escape is the reigning queen right now, actually, but Incapacitated by Love and The Effects of Cookies on Shy Teenagers are gunning for her crown, lol.

5. Is there any fic that makes you super happy to reread and remember you wrote that?

I don’t tend to reread any of my fics, but like I said, there are a few that I love. Escaped and Incapacitated by Love are two of them, along with Together, I Need A Gangsta, and Question.

6. Is there any fic that makes you super embarrassed to reread and remember you wrote that?

Uh, one of the reasons I don’t reread my fics is the cringe factor, so, no. I reread Mine a couple of years after I posted it and it made me delete it, so. I think it’s in everyone’s interest that I don’t.

7. What’s the fic you most want to continue (unfinished or no)?

I don’t write multi-chaptered fics, so, not in that regard, but.

When I first posted I Need A Gangsta, I had a surprisingly large amount of people asking for a sequel. It’s been years since I posted it, but last week I started thinking about it and I have a little bit of inspiration, so. You may wanna look for that in the upcoming months. (I have exams coming up, be patient.)

8. What’s the oldest (longest since last update) fic you most want to continue (unfinished or no)?

Again, I don’t write multi-chaptered fics, but.

I got asked for a sequel to one of the fics I wrote for the 2015 Klaine Advent, Wish, which is inspired by Aladdin. I haven’t gotten around to it yet… *hides in shame*

9. Have you ever written for a fandom without watching/reading/playing the source material?

Nah. I’m not sure if I could. Although, I do usually write AUs, so. I think some of them could fit pretty much any pairing.

10. Have you ever written for a fandom without reading other fanfic for it?

I hadn’t read any Shameless fanfic before writing and posting my own. But I read klaine fanfic for years before I attempted writing it.

11. Have you ever written a fic for a concept you know someone else has done before? How did it impact your writing process or feelings after posting?

Nothing specific comes to mind right now? I do occasionally get inspired by prompts, (and you can all blame @slayediest for reblogging them onto my dash) and they obviously get used by a whole bunch of people, but usually inspiration for different fics comes a little more naturally, like I’ll hear a song or whatever.

I did write a fake dating au and I was nervous about writing it, I took more care than usual if that makes sense, and that was both because it’s such an iconic trope, but also because it was a gift to the delightful @lilyvandersteen, so I was even more anxious than usual after posting it cause I was waiting to see if she liked it or not.

12. Have you ever written a fic and decided never to publish it? Why?

There are so. many. fics. in my drafts folder, but all but two are unfinished. Those two that are finished but not published I just don’t like very much. I keep them with the intent of re-writing the parts I don’t like and posting them. Eventually, hopefully, I’ll get around to that.

13. What’s the biggest change between your style when you started in fandom and today?

I’m more comfortable writing now than back when I first started, I guess? I was way more hesitant then.

I do write better smut now.

14. What’s the biggest change in your taste between when you started in fandom and today?

Let’s just say I’m into some kinky shit now and it’s definitely because of late nights spent on AO3.

Trope-wise, not much has changed about my preferences.

15. Have you ever purposefully written one fandom/fic idea over another because you knew it’d be more popular?

Nah. I don’t vibe like that. The words don’t come out of me.

16. Have you ever stopped writing a fic/for a fandom because it wasn’t receiving enough attention?

Nope.

17. In your opinion, what’s your most overrated fic?

It’s definitely Closer. I was debating not posting it and it has more hits than it has words, I really don’t get it.

18. What’s your most underrated fic?

I’m not sure. I feel like I’d be nagging if I said, oh hey not enough of you guys read/liked/reblogged this fic of mine.

People have their preferences. I’m okay with that.

19. If you had to pick one fic/scene/chapter of your work to describe your entire portfolio to a stranger, which would you pick?

Fuck. Maybe Together? It has the mix of intense angst/sappy romance that you’ll find in my fics 100% of the time.

20. Have/Would you ever rewrite a fic? If yes, would you take the original down?

I haven’t, and I don’t think I will. I don’t tend to linger over fics once I’ve posted them.

21. If someone starts kudosing and commenting your fics in a spree and has a few works of their own, would you go look through theirs?

This has happened three times and I loved it every single time. I would definitely check out their profile, yes.

22. Has there ever been anyone who’s made you freak out because they read your work and followed/favorited/reviewed?

Are you kidding me? Literally all of you, yes. Fandom royalty has read my work, bitches.

23. What’s the nicest review you’ve ever gotten?

Oh, god. Someone commented that I made them cry, it was the best, it made my entire week.

24. What’s the meanest review you’ve ever gotten? Do you think the reviewer intended it?

I’m very lucky in that aspect, I’ve never gotten hate in regards to my fic.

I did write a fic where Blaine and Sam were teaching a CPR class that Kurt was in, and at the end, I had Sam interrupt them while they were speaking, and someone left a mean comment about Sam? I smelled fandom wank and did not engage.

25. What constructive criticism, however well-meaning, always makes you feel bad when you see it in a review?

Haven’t gotten any of that.

26. What aspect of your writing do you most enjoy to see praised?

I like making people feel things. If you tell me I made you feel good or bad with my fic, I’m going to be delighted.

27. If you could only ever write crossovers or single-fandom fics ever again, which would you pick?

Single-fandom fics.

28. if you could only ever write for a single crossover or a single fandom again, which would you pick?

Glee, obvi. I’d never give you cuties up.

29. Does the division of your writing across fandoms line up with your reading? What’s the biggest discrepancy?

Well, although I have considered writing for some of my other fandoms, it just hasn’t felt right. That may change in the future, and that’ll be an interesting day.

30. Do you continue to write for a fandom after you’ve moved on or do you focus solely on the new one?

I think klaine has become such an important part of my life that I don’t see myself giving it up entirely.

31. Who’s the one character you’ve just never managed to get perfectly right?

I don’t think I have ever gotten any character perfectly right, but that’s okay. It helps that the majority of my fics are AUs, so I don’t feel a lot of hesitation having them do or say some OOC things.

32. Who’s the one character who shines without you even trying?

I think I’ve nailed Kurt and Blaine at different scenes in different fics, but no particular character comes easy to me.

33. Is there any particular character whose scenes always wind up being longer/more frequent than you expected? Does the quality hold up?

Rachel kind of takes over sometimes and I have to go back and edit things out, lol. That’s just her diva way.

34. Was there any fic that you wrote that really surprised you in the fandom reaction? Was it just by the numbers or did they take it an entirely different way?

I think the one that surprised me with just how much response it received (I know that phrasing is wrong but I can’t be bothered right now) is Incapacitated by Love. Who knew people in the glee fandom had a thing about police officer!Blaine.

35. Have you ever written a ship into a fic without meaning to?

I keep klaine as the main focus, so the backround couples switch up ocassionally and I don’t particularly care.

36. Have you ever sincerely written a ship you do not support into a fic?

Nope.

37. Have you ever purposefully bashed a character/ship in a fic?

Not that I can remember.

38. Have you ever purposefully written something you know your readers would find uncomfortable/would not enjoy? If yes, why?

I don’t think so?

39. Do you consider yourself to have a readership?

Not really. Although if any of you consider yourself to be a loyal reader of mine, please let me know.

40. Do you feel like you put out enough content?

No, that’s kind of the worst part about my muse, she’s a flighty bitch.

41. If you cross-post your fics on multiple sites, do you have a favorite? Are there certain fics you would only post on certain site?

AO3 is the best. Tumblr can suck my dick.

42. How many views has your most popular fic gotten?

Incapacitated by Love has 1554 hits! Wow.

43. Your least popular?

Ground has only 95 hits, but I posted it a few days ago.

44. Do you follow/favorite/kudos/comment/review more stories than you have received?

I have no idea what this question is asking.

45. If you had to call yourself an author of a single genre (besides fanfic) what label would you give yourself?

AU all the way, baby, although that’s apparent.

46. Do you consider yourself a diverse author?

No, I think I have a very specific style. I dither in between gut-wrenching angst and tooth-aching fluff. That’s it, that’s my fics.

47. If someone you know in real life who isn’t involved in fandoms asked to read your work, would you let them? If yes, what would you recommend they read first?

No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. There’s too much gay porn and I’m too closeted for this shit.

48. Does anyone you know from outside of fandom know you write fanfic? Are they involved in the same fandom too?

Yes, one friend of mine knows, although she doesn’t know what I write, or for which fandom(s).

49. Has anyone in your life ever read your fanfic just because you wrote it?

No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.

50. Has writing fanfic had a significant impact on your life? Would you say it’s entirely positive?

Of course it’s had a massive impact in my life. It’s a huge creative outlet and I’ve ‘met’ so many people because of it! I think it’s like 85% positive.

#spaceorphan18 #meme #fanfic meme

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darling-drag-brainrot · 3 years ago

Link

Uh oh- I wrote another fanfic. This time it’s a Crygi fic <3 So please enjoy!!! The fanfic can be accessed through the AO3 link but also you can just read under the cut here! Please leave a comment or reblog if you feel so inclined!

If you’re ever feeling bored… I just moved in… I’m the girl next door.

Crystal had never considered herself someone who was easily flustered. Honestly, she was rather outgoing. She had never been prone to shy away or back down from anything- much less romantic interactions and she took pride in the fact she was everything but the stereotypical “useless lesbian”. But apparently, there was always a first time for everything. And for once in her life, Crystal found herself a jumbled mess at the hands of a pretty girl.

She had been in the middle of her once a month, high intensity cleaning spree- a bottle of disinfectant in one hand and a trash bag full of empty take out containers in the other- when she finally met her match.

A girl named Gigi Goode.

Now, Crystal loved music. She loved it with all her heart. If music was a pretty girl, she’d be married to it by now. She’d have musical babies with it if she could. She just really liked music. And she especially liked to blast her music as loud as she possibly could, whenever she possibly could. Which meant she was usually entertaining the entire neighborhood with her kickass music tastes from the second she woke up to the second she hit her mattress again at night. And maybe this had earned her dozens of noise complaints in the past, but well, you only live once. Noise complaints are temporary, the beauty that is the song C’est La Vie by B*Witched is forever. Her neighbors tended to disagree on this fact, but well, her immediate next door neighbor (an older woman by the name of Bianca) had finally moved...

So really, nothing was stopping Crystal from playing her music as loudly or as frequently as she pleased anymore. Hence, the Trixie Mattel albums she had playing on loop as she swept and dusted her apartment at 9:30 in the morning.

Crystal’s love for Trixie Mattel’s music was one that had changed her life, an all consuming love like one has for a mother, or a beloved family pet. Except neither Crystal’s mom or beloved cat Tic Tac had really played a part in Crystal’s gay awakening- which was probably for the best. Yep, Crystal had been obsessed with Trixie Mattel and her music since the moment she had seen the blonde perform at a local bar years in the past. She still had the homemade CD she had bought at the bar, stashed away in one of her drawers, which had found a home amongst the high quality vinyls that she would buy from Trixie’s online shop once the woman had gained her big break.

And again, for clarity, Trixie Mattel had been Crystal’s lesbian awakening. Which honestly surprised nearly no one, as everyone around her had known Crystal was a lesbian before the notion of lesbianism had ever crossed her own mind. But while Crystal had been so deep in the closet she had nearly found Narnia, Trixie Mattel served as the guiding light out of the dark, musty, moth infested closet and into the light of wow women are really pretty. In honor of this fact, her CD had been the first one Crystal ever purchased with money she had earned herself. With all this in mind, it was only natural Crystal blare her music at any chance she could.

The last song faded out, before the playlist looped again, Trixie Mattel’s saccharine sweet voice making Crystal break out into a dopey grin, before she was singing along as best as she could (where she was surprisingly on key for once in her life). She had just begun to really groove along to the chorus of Girl Next Door before a demanding knock startled her from her reverie.

Had she invited someone over?

Crystal wracked her brain, last she checked she didn’t have any plans for the day. Maybe Nicky was stopping by to talk about her girlfriend Jaida. Or Jan was stopping by to talk about her girlfriend Jackie. Or Rock was coming by to discuss the latest girl she’d met that she’d decided she was definitely in love with- this time for total realsies. God, Crystal’s friend group was full of useless lesbians. Thank god she wasn’t as useless and easily smitten as the rest of them. Nope. Crystal gave herself a mental pat on the back for this fact, swinging open the door with far too much force- a scathing zinger on the tip of her tongue to mock one of her lovesick friends.

But it wasn’t Jan or Nicky or Rock.

It was someone Crystal had never seen in her life.

A woman with piercing eyes, violently scarlet hair, and an outfit that seemed to be ripped straight from a high end fashion magazine stood in the doorway- staring Crystal down as if they were lifelong enemies. And oops- this woman was terrifyingly hot.

“Uh… hello?” Crystal offered out, feeling her mind go blank, all thoughts of who the woman was or why she was there replaced with a looping mantra of pretty girl pretty girl pretty girl.

“Hello.” The woman parroted with a disapproving hum, “I’m Gigi Goode. I just moved in next door.”

“Oh. Well hi! I’m Crystal. Lovely to meet you.” She flashed a bright smile, hoping the redhead would return the gesture… or at least give Crystal something other than a death glare.

Gigi didn’t seem to care about Crystal’s introduction, speaking in a way that reminded Crystal of the customer service voice she’d use back at her old job at Chuck E. Cheese when dealing with entitled parents, “Yes… lovely to meet you. Ms. Del Rio warned me about you- but I didn’t realize she was so serious about how often you listen to your music. You are aware it’s barely ten in the morning right?”

“Right.”

“And you are aware that most people like to spend their Sunday mornings in bed right?”

Crystal nodded, “Right.”

“Have you ever considered wearing headphones? Or turning down your music? Or literally anything other than blasting your music at the same decibel count as a private jet?”

“Uhhh…”

Gigi rolled her eyes, an overdramatic gesture that despite its angry intention, simply made a hoard of lovesick butterflies erupt in Crystal’s stomach, “Thought not. Maybe try headphones next time, I didn’t need you blasting your shitty country music as a wake up call.”

Oh. OH? SHITTY? SHITTY COUNTRY MUSIC? Alright, maybe this woman wasn’t as perfect and cute as Crystal thought if she was calling Trixie Mattel’s music shitty.

“It’s not fucking shitty country music actually, it’s Trixie Mattel.” Crystal said as politely as she could, resisting the urge to flip off her new neighbor, disgustingly ethereally pretty or not- no one called Trixie Mattel’s music shitty in front of Crystal and got away with it.

“Whatever.” The woman said with a groan, rubbing at her temples with a yawn, “Just keep it down next time or I’m gonna be forced to file a noise complaint.”

Crystal opened her mouth to respond, wanting to snark back, but Gigi was already turning around and walking back the way she came.

She seemed to be actually pretty tired, stumbling a bit as she turned the corner, which made Crystal feel a bit bad. She probably had woken the poor woman up.

Hmmm… maybe Gigi had a point.

Crystal might as well invest in some earbuds.

+ +

The next week flew by without a peep from the redheaded neighbor, even as Crystal played her music like usual.

She had placed in an order for some brand new headphones, but for some reason her package got lost in transit, so she was stuck with her speaker for the time being.

But the beautiful woman never came back to bother Crystal about it.

Maybe Crystal played her music a bit louder that week hoping she would though.

And maybe she played some girl in red to give her a hint that she too was a friend of Ellen. As in she was a lesbian. Not an actual Ellen fan. God no.

Sunday rolled around again though without a peep from Gigi, with Crystal keeping her music at a surprisingly not eardrum shattering level when she heard a loud, persistent knocking on her door.

“Yo,” She said as she swung open the door, “What’s up?”

It was Gigi again, looking just as radiant as she had the first time they met, though this time she had on a shy smile instead of a sleep-deprived pout. And just like the first time they had met, all of Crystal’s conversational skills seemed to vanish in thin air, out on a sabbatical or something, leaving Crystal empty headed as she stared at the other women.

“Uh… howdy!” She finally managed to squeak out once her brain booted up again, wincing at the way her voice jumped an octave within a two syllable word, “Gigi right?”

Gigi nodded, looking Crystal up and down, as if trying to memorize her and her outfit before she spoke again, “And you’re Crystal.” After a millisecond pause she continued, “I really like your outfit today. Pinks a nice color on you.”

Crystal felt her face heat up, “Uh thanks! I- I like yours too! And your makeup! You are just- wow- your outfit- everything about you is uh, very pretty.”

Wow. Crystal was so bad at this. She was usually so outgoing, so good at flirting, or at least not so miserably clumsy at it… what kind of witchcraft was this girl using to make Crystal so choked up?

“Thanks,” Gigi replied, seemingly oblivious to Crystal’s aggressive gay panicking, “I just wanted to stop by and apologize for how I acted last week. I was really, really stressed out with moving and all and running on very little sleep so I was a bit…” she paused, making an awkward clicking sound with her tongue, a hint of pink crawling up her neck before she admitted, “I was honestly a bit of a bitch. Like- a mega cunt. I’m really sorry, can we start over again perhaps?”

Crystal wanted to assure Gigi that she understood. They all had their bad days, and to be fair, Crystal had been listening to her music far too loudly. But instead she simply extended a hand, flashing an overenthusiastic Crystal brand smile to her neighbor before chirping out, “Nice to meet you, I’m Crystal- from what I gather you’re new to the neighborhood right?”

Gigi’s eyes went wide, confused for a split second before she understood what Crystal was doing, giving a soft snort of laughter which totally wasn’t the cutest thing Crystal had ever heard, no siree, before she took Crystal’s hand in hers to shake, “Yes, I just moved in last week actually. I’m Gigi Goode, lovely to meet you. I adore your hair.”

The fact this was already the second genuine compliment she had been given by Gigi in the past two minutes of them talking made Crystal’s heart backflip in her ribcage, and she once more found herself struggling to move the conversation along.

What was she supposed to say?

Oh wow- if you like my hair then go look in the mirror because your hair is perfect? You’re perfect? Please go on a date with me? Yeah no- Crystal’s brain needed to be quiet. She needed to be chill. Gigi was probably just being polite, and she probably already had a boyfriend or something. Should Crystal ask about that? Would it be weird if Crystal asked Gigi if she was single so soon? Oh god- Crystal still hadn’t responded to Gigi. What the fuck was she gonna say?

Thankfully Gigi seemed to pick up on Crystal’s inability to form a coherent sentence, removing her hand before she pulled out her phone- unlocking it quickly to show a Spotify playlist full of Trixie Mattel’s music, “After we spoke the first time I decided to actually give this Trixie Mattel chick a listen, she’s really good, really… sapphic.” Her eyes twinkled, mischief in her voice as she said, “I mean, at least from my perspective it seemed that way. But maybe I’m misinterpreting her music. I figured since you seem to love her stuff you could verify my interpretations for me.” Gigi seemed closer to Crystal than she had been before, no longer a solid yard away, now close enough that Crystal could see the small patch of freckles on the other girl’s nose. How could one woman be so effortlessly beautiful?

Boy oh boy, Crystal once more was becoming aware of just how much she loved women.

“I- I’d say her music is pretty sapphic.” Crystal finally said, trying to seem blase about it, “I mean, I wouldn’t say it’s particularly straight. It’s kind of a joke within her fanbase that it’s like 90% anxious lesbians and like 10% everyone else.”

Gigi raised an eyebrow, “Ah really? Well I guess I fit right in then.”

‘Oh that’s cool.’ Crystal almost said before it finally clicked. Oh? OH? Women? Women lover?

That meant Crystal actually had a chance after all! Dammit she was back in the game! She just needed to be smooth- be the flirtatious Crystal everyone knew and loved- instead of the bumbling, awkward fool who couldn’t even get through a sentence without going scarlet.

“Oh, same! I’m like- always anxious and very woman- I mean- I love women. Lesbian. That’s me. I’m… I’m very big Trixie fan.” Okay… forget being smooth, Crystal just had to get through the rest of the conversation without embarrassing herself any further, surely she could manage that? Right?

Gigi bounced on the balls of her feet idly, a smile that verged on a wolfish smirk on her face as she watched Crystal make an absolute fool of herself, “Wow, we have a lot in common then. Two sapphics with good music taste. Actually…” Gigi placed a hand on her chin as if in thought, “I just so happened to have secured two tickets to Trixie’s latest concert… you know… the one she’s been advertising on her Instagram- with Katya?”

Oh. Oh dear lord. Somebody pinch Crystal because she must have been dreaming. This was all far too good to be true.

“Oh shit really!” Crystal nearly screeched, beginning to shake with excitement, “How? Those things sold out so fast!”

Gigi gave a nonchalant shrug, “I have friends in high places I guess you could say. And I figured I ought to apologize for being a bitch last time we talked, so I thought maybe I could take you to the concert as like, a sign of good will. We could be super cool lesbians together… in the front row…”

If the enticement of hanging out with such a pretty woman weren’t enough, the promise of front row tickets would have pulled Crystal in no problem, “Front row! Oh my god! Yes! Yes yes yes! Thank you so much! Oh god yeah! Dude that’s fucking awesome!”

Crystal was tempted to pinch herself because honestly- this couldn’t be real- but the way Gigi grinned at her, earnest and sweet, brought her back to reality.

Finally realizing that Gigi was still just standing in her doorway, Crystal beckoned for Gigi to come inside as she began pacing around her living room in feverish excitement, talking a mile a minute in her glee, “Thank you again- I- I’m actually gonna cry! Wow! A Trixie Mattel and Katya concert! With a pretty girl at my side! I’m actually gonna cry! Oh my god! This is the dream! My friends are gonna be so jealous! Thank you so so so much!”

Gigi didn’t say anything, though her cheeks went a bit pink at the mention of a pretty girl.

“Jesus Christ, sorry, I’m just so hype right now. Sit down! Sit down! You’re like- the coolest- and also a guest- ignore the mess, I need to clean the house again soon. But wow. I owe you one! Or maybe a thousand! You like coffee? I can take you out for coffee sometime as a thank you! Or like- take you on a shopping spree? Whatever you want really!”

Gigi let Crystal get all her rambling out of her system before she waved her hand, as if dismissing the idea, “You don’t need to take me out for coffee or anything. I’m just happy to know you’re happy, and that we can get along after all. Though…” She tapped her chin as if thinking again, “If you wanna repay me, we can just ya know, consider this concert trip as like… a date… if you’re comfortable with that of course. Wait- are you single?” Her eyes suddenly widened, “I don’t wanna like- hit on you if you’re dating someone!”

Crystal shook her head, surprisingly quick in her response of, “No- don’t worry- I’m single. And uh,” She flashed a smile herself, “I’d love to make it a date.”

“Oh good.” Gigi gave a sigh of relief, her entire face tinted a soft pink, “Then it’s a date?”

“It’s a date.”

Gigi nodded to herself, a silence filling the room before she quickly stammered, “I uh, I was so nervous you were gonna turn me down actually. I mean, I really didn’t show my best side last week so I would’ve understood if you said no.”

The change in Gigi’s demeanor was adorable to see, her more put together persona crumbling to reveal another lesbian who was just as useless as Crystal was. Thank god she wasn’t alone on that boat, “It’s fine, last week was just a fluke. No harm, no foul. And now I can get to know your best side properly- here and on our date at a super cool Trixie concert.” Wow. It felt nice to say all that. Specifically the ‘date at a super cool Trixie concert’ part.

The relief on Gigi’s face was visible, though it was replaced in a flash by a more nonchalant grin, “I honestly can’t wait. I’ve been listening to her album Barbara on a loop all week, her music really is something else. Sorry I said it was shitty earlier, I assumed you were listening to some stadium country Life is a Highway shit.”

“Life Is a Highway?” Crystal put a hand to her forehead, leaning back overdramatically, “Did you really assume I was the type of person to listen to Life Is a Highway?” She absolutely was, in fact she had a whole playlist dedicated to shitty country songs, but she didn’t need to tell Gigi that, “I thought my gayness was more potent than that.”

“I was a bit too tired and out of it to actually process what you were listening to, to be fair. I just heard the basic thrum of it through my walls and assumed you were some asshole who listens to nothing but country all day everyday. I didn’t even consider you were gay.”

Didn’t consider it? Crystal felt shocked, appalled, and frankly- a bit offended. Was her gay energy lacking? Did she need to start wearing her pride flag earrings 24/7 again like she did in high school?

“Well at least you figured it out now. Though geez, I am a bit offended you assumed I was straight.”

Gigi gave a small laugh, moving to pat Crystal’s shoulder softly in apology, her hand lingering on Crystal’s arm far too long to be anything less than clear flirting, “I stopped assuming when I listened to Trixie’s music thankfully, and then fully knew you were gay when you answered the door today. Your sweater couldn’t be gayer unless it was actually the colors of the goddamn rainbow. It looks ridiculously cute on you actually.”

Alright, fuck Gigi and her ability to fluster Crystal so easily. She couldn’t deal with her and her sweet compliments.

“Thanks Geeg, you look really cute today too.” She paused, stopping to look at Gigi’s outfit before it hit her, “Wait, is your eye makeup the lesbian flag colors? Like in order?”

“Yeah,” Gigi said as if it was obvious, which Crystal supposed it was, “Did you only just notice?”

“I- Maybe- ya know what? Shush. Shut up. Don’t- don’t say anything-”

Gigi made a zipping motion over her mouth, though her amusement was clear as Crystal tried to change the subject hastily.

“Anyway, if you’ve been listening to Trixie Mattel, I gotta ask... What’s your favourite song?

“Girl Next Door.” Gigi said without hesitation, “Duh.”

“Oh good choice, good choice. I mean… If you’re ever feeling bored…”

Gigi rolled her eyes playfully, finishing the lyrics, “I just moved in, I’m the girl next door.”

Crystal winked, “And I’d love to have you on my hardwood floor.”

Gigi cackled, face going scarlet, “You can call me up with love, the girl next door.”

Crystal laughed as well before suddenly dashing to grab her phone, nearly shoving it into Gigi’s hands, “That reminds me though, if we’re gonna have a date and all, can I have your number?”

“Oh of course!” Gigi quickly put in her number, adding a heart next to her contact name before passing the phone back to Crystal, again allowing her touch to linger far too long to be casual, “So now you can hit me up whenever. Though I literally live next door so you can just knock if you want.”

Crystal nodded, “Same here, just knock if my music is too loud or something. I’ve been trying to keep it down prior to noon, so that way I don’t deserve your sleep schedule, fair maiden Gigi.”

Gigi laughed, “I don’t mind if your music is loud- I’m actually really starting to like your taste- and it gives me more reason to stop by and talk to you. Maybe next time we can have lunch together, or a movie night, if that’s alright with you.”

Crystal gave a small laugh, “Of course, I’d never turn down a chance to hang out with such a pretty girl, with such clearly perfect music taste as liking Trixie Mattel. Just stop by whenever.”

Gigi gave a nod in response, suddenly rushing to check her phone before she was rising from her seat, “Oh shit- I have to head out now, I have a call coming in from a friend in a few minutes, but we can chat more later. Maybe turn down your music for the next like hour or so for me if you can, then go back to destroying your ear drums all you want.”

Crystal nodded, throwing up finger guns along with a wink, “Can do. I’ll see you around Gigi.”

Gigi made her way to the door, blowing a kiss to Crystal before moving to leave, “Talk to you soon Crystal, we can discuss the plans for our date later! And remember- if you’re ever feeling bored, I just moved in- I’m the girl next door!”

Crystal felt light on her feet, responding with a cheery, “Couldn’t forget if I tried!” Then just like that, Gigi was gone, and Crystal was dashing to call up her friends to give them the 411 on the cute new girl and her upcoming date to see the Trixie Mattel live.

And just like Gigi asked, she turned down her music- though after an hour she received a text from the redheaded girl reading:

Gigi <3: You can turn up your music again ;)

And just like that… Crystal was blasting Trixie Mattel at full volume.

Girl Next Door

By: macon_ferret