#vic i hope you're doing well friend

[rush-the-stars]

soulmate au with nai……cielo beloved…..

vic..............what if i just.....................................................,

cw: blood, gore, violence, self cutting-? the reader nicks themselves on nai's knives. yandere nai.

***

Blood, hot and thick, splatters across your face. You jolt and swipe at it quickly, try to wipe yourself clean, but smear it across your cheek further. You feel it tacky now, still too warm.

You wish it felt grosser than it does.

You wish you could make your legs move, unstick them from their place, and run. And run. And run.

You manage to stumble a little, backwards, as tendrils of glinting silver slither towards you like a snake through the blood and the gore.

Despite knowing, you aren't scared of them.

The blunt side of his knives, cool, and still hard and painful, slip around you like a constrictor. Carefully, the razors have been flipped away from you. Around your legs, your torso, up around your arms the metal winds and twists. They're as gentle as they can be, as gentle as a knife can be. They still dig into your skin, they'll still nick and give you lovecuts criss-crossed over your body in a strange pattern of hatching and dashing.

More marks from him; your soulmate. None more damning than the first, of course.

You're lifted like a doll towards him.

Nai appraises you.

You squirm in his hold. You feel a scrape of the sharp side, feel the blood well and rush to the surface, as if eager to see him. You go still. Limp, almost. (It's how he wants you, you know. It's what he'd said in the beginning; stop moving, stop squirming, and I won't hurt you.)

His eyes are cold, flints of ice.

He tilts his head fractionally. The bodies of all the people that attempted to help you lay scattered, dismembered, at his feet. Beneath you.

You cross your arms and rest them on the metal wrapped around your chest. You lay your head on them and look at him; a little guilty. Kicked puppy. A little resentful. Scolded, agitated kitten.

"Did you think you could run?" He finally asks.

You tilt your head and let it loll against your arm; exhaustion suddenly sweeps through you. Your hand swings lazily, fingertips skimming the sharp, outside edge of his knives. Even just that touch leaves blood gushing to the surface of your sensitive finger.

You let out a defeated sigh, tears blurring suddenly in your vision. You blame the sting. You blame your soulmate. You watch the blood run down the length of your finger and into your palm, pooling against the soulmate mark that you've had your whole life.

Still, you get out;

"I had to try at least once."

"You've learned your lesson, then?"

You nod, knocking a tear free to fall over the bend of your cheek.

In an instant, he's setting you back on your feet in front of him, wobbly, like a newborn fawn. Unsteady so that when he lifts you straight from the ground and cradles you to him like a child, you are almost grateful.

You go limp, just as he always wants you.

And you won't ever try to leave again.

[aimfor-theheart]

🌹 cielo beloved <3

VIC! sorry i am replying 5 hours later jfdksfj but for you...........i have some nai wip!

Later, Nai washes your bloody mouth out with water from the canteen.  He cups it in his hand and pours it into your mouth. He tells you to swish, when to spit it out. It comes out pink and thick. 

this is apart of a really long very horrible idea tbh

send me a 🌹 and i'll give you a line from a wip!

[princess-glassred]

I was listening to Mean Girls the musical last night and I got the idea for a whole semi-cannon compliant Mean Girls IT AU so here's like every single idea had for the au last night

-Alright so obviously the Bowers gang are the titular plastics, but I have decided Richie is our Cady Heron cause I think he is the loser who could have most feasibly ended up in the bowers gang had things gone bad enough for him.

-He's lived in Los Angeles his entire life and was homeschooled growing up too, so going to a shitty small town high school obviously is something he's unfamiliar with. Much like Cady his background has informed his view on social cliques and talking to people, although unlike Cady's who's back ground makes her think of things in an athropological way, Richie's childhood of playing video games, watching movies, and growing up around showbiz types makes him see everything through the lens of the media he consumes. To him, the Bowers gang are not animals, but the big bosses at the end of a video game or every stock villain character he's ever seen in a bad family movie.

-Similarly, Eddie is our Janis (but we're going for semi cannon compliant here, so he is sadly not goth 😔)

-Eddie hates Henry a lot for essentially ruining his life when they were in middle school, they were never friends but they used to ignore each other. Until Henry noticed how close Eddie was with Bill and thought it was important for everyone to know that he was a total fag before they went on a class field trip to a waterpark. There were going to be BOYS in their BATHING SUITS. Everyone had the right to know if Eddie was going to creep on them. His mom ended up forcing him to stay home anyways (which only made the rumor worse), and after Eddie started getting bullied for it Sonia pulled him out of school until high school. When he came back he had his stupid inhaler and all his allergies and he was even weirder than before so obviously he was a total freak to everyone now. Eddie has had a bone to pick with Henry ever since.

-Every other member of the losers club kind of alternates the damian role and have various damien esque traits, Bill gives Eddie rides, Stan's pretty sassy, Bev is concerned with the event planning committee, Ben is made fun of by Henry's gang a lot, and Mike offers like the only sensible advise anyone gets in this entire  au.

-Richie is quickly scouted out by the Bowers gang just like Regina scouts Cady, but unlike Cady who is scouted for her beauty, the bowers gang sees Richie's potential as a bully. They're not too concerned with image (i mean look at how they dress) but they see him calling people weird nicknames, intentionally pissing people off, getting under Eddie Kaspbrak's skin and they want him in. They even take a liking to his shitty impressions, in the same way they laugh at Belch's weird habit of belching on people. They just think he seems funny so they wanna invite him to have lunch with them every day for the rest of the week.

-The plastic equivalents are Henry as Regina, Belch as Karen, and Vic as Gretchen. Patricks not really part of the clique but he is here, we will get to him in a bit.

-Belch: So if you're from hollywood, why are you ugly? Vic: omg, Belch you can't just ask people why they're ugly Belch: Well shouldn't he have had like a plastic surgeon out the womb or something???

-The "on wednesdays we wear pink" line stays the same due to Henry's pink leather jacke he wears in the book. Vic's got pink camo pants and Belch has a pink def leopard shirt.

-Richie is very resistant to sitting with the Bowers gang, he can tell they're bad news and awful people but Eddie eggs him on about it. He says he's just a little curious to know what they do all the time, but secretly he's hoping for some kind of big thing to happen that blows the group apart.

-Bev gets judged for hanging out in the boys bathroom like how Damian gets judged for hanging out in the girls bathroom

-Richie: Does anyone have anything in pink I can borrow? Bev: eugh, no. Eddie: I do.

-Richie gets a big gay crush on Connor Bowers, although he doesn't realize he's Henry's cousin until Vic asks if there's anyone at school he likes. Richie very calmly admits he likes a guy since he grew up in a big city full of gays but Vic hushes him about it since they're "friends" and doesn't want him to embarass himself. The fact the guy is Henry's cousin only makes Vic more insistant he keep it quiet, not just because it's taboo to be gay in places like Derry, but because "family members are off limits to friends".

-Connor doesn't seem interested in Richie at all, unless it's platonic Connor isn't interested. Part of it is his own choice, but another part of it is that he genuinely respects and values Henry's opinion. Sure, Henry isn't a saint or anything, but he's his big cousin and if he doesn't want him dating anyone for his own good than he'll listen.

-Still though, Richie will do just about anything for Connor's attention. Despite being a straight A student and generally very good at video games, he flubs both of these things on purpose in hopes Connor will try to teach him. Connor's hardly good at math, and he's definitely worse at street fighter than Richie, but it's worth it to act like he isn't. What's a few bad grades if it means he gets to spend a few minutes staring into Connors eyes or feel his hand wrap against the joystick at the same time as his?

-At Henry's house his dad offers them alcoholic drinks despite still being minors, and his justification is he'd rather kids drink in his house than at other peoples. Henry is kind of embarrassed by this and just tells his dad to go do something "parenty" and leave them alone for a minute.

-The burn book in this is a leather book that's much more understated looking thsn the actual mean girls burn book. Inside of it are most of the kids at school and some of the losers. Eddie is in there with the words "Sissy queer" scribbled all over the page. Henry notes that they haven't thought of anything good for Bill yet and Richie blurts out a quip Eddie made about Bill sounding like Elmer Fudd when he stutters. Richie instantly feels ashamed about repeating it and wonders if that was just one of those things Eddie was allowed to say but no one else, but it's too late and Henry wants him to write it down anyways.

-For halloween all the bowers gang members go as slasher villains and then Richie just goes as a ventriloquest dummy as a joke. All of the BG are confused as to why he's dressed so ridiculous and poor clueless Richie is just like "???? It's halloween???"

-At the party, Henry tells Connor that Richie has a huge crush on him and while Connor thinks it's "kind of cute" Henry immediately tells him off and tells him to shut it down NOW. This sends Richie into a jealous RAGE that gets him ready to commit to the Henry Bowers revenge scheme the rest of the losers are forming.

-Richie's mom has these kalteen bars that she's been using to gain back some weight after losing so much it's unhealthy, so Richie and the rest of the losers use this to mess with Henry. He tells him that he's "sooo scrawny, and weak, all i'm eating are these foreign protein bars that build muscle" and Henry demands he brings him a whole box.

-Also as part of their revenge they dye his hair white, just like book/90's Henry. Vic tries to make him feel better about the weight gain and the white hair by telling him it doesn't look all that bad, but henry just yells "Are you fucking kidding me Vic?! I look like i'm 65!".

-They also find out from making Vic completely crack and spill all of Henry's secrets that Henry cheats on his girlfriend Greta all the time with his friend Patrick Hockstetter. They hook up in the mascot costume in the gym storage closet on top of the sawdust bags, it's really weird. This is an especially rich development considering what he said about Eddie all those years ago proved to just be projection, same for his insistence connor stay single.

-Richie and the losers proceed to use this to their advantage in the most fucked up way possible, by essentially outing Henry to his cousin so Connor will feel betrayed and less likely to listen to him. After all, if Connor feels disillusioned with Henry once he finds out he's not only a big ol cheater but also just projecting, he might consider rebelling and going after Richie.

-Richie is definitely turning into Henry's mini me the longer time goes on, at first it was just talking about Henry all the time, even when Eddie wanted him to shut the fuck up, but things just continued to get worse and worse. Soon he started making fun of Henry behind his back for being fat, being an idiot, being poor, ect. Obviously Henry's said worse things, but Richie says all this mean shit about him while still pretending to he his friend, and he doesn't seem to care if making fun of Henry's weight or financial status hurts Ben or Bev in anyway.

-He can also feel himself becoming more image obsessed, the Bowers gang aren't too concerned with clothes or looks (aside from their lunchtable rules and just general beauty standard stuff) but Richie feels like he has to get more attractive just to make Henry feel worse about his hair and weight. He has to lose his glasses, and comb his hair, and wear cool punk clothes. Who cares if he looks totally unlike himself, Henry's insecure and everybody LOVES Richie, that's all that really matters.

The other losers seem to recognize his ever growing vanity, but Richie makes a lot for excuses for it. He pretends like it's just part of the bit but that completely ignores the fact he is actually kind of liking being hot and the center of attention.

-The sweatpants scene is really sad. Henry is stuffing his face, partly because he's hungry from a diet of nothing but candy bars but also because he's emotionally eating to cope with being outed and all his other problems. Vic and Belch coldly inform him that he's wearing sweatpants on a monday and he needs to go sit somewhere else. Henry all but begs for his friends to let it slide, but when Belch and Vic ask what the big deal is Henry has to shamefully admit he's too fat for any of his jeans anymore. They still don't give a shit though, and what's worse is Richie sits there and says nothing while Henry's life falls apart.

-Right after this Richie becomes aware od his state as the new leader of the Bowers gang when Vic and Belch start asking him advise on who they should pick on next

-The party scene is a total nightmare as to be expected. Maggie and Wentworth are going to be PISSED when they find out their son threw a rager. Part of this is Vic's fault for inviting everyone they knew though.

-Richie gets blasted drunk, vomits all over Connors shoes, chases him outside, then falls to the ground, when he gets back up Eddie and Bill are there and Eddie is furious.

-Bill is in the background riding Silver around in circles pretty aimlessly, every once in a while he'll tell Eddie that he needs to be home in like two minutes and if he doesn't give Eddie a ride home Sonia will probably murder him.

-Eds and Rich have a really disasterous fight.

-"oh my god Eddie, you know i couldn't invite you. I had to still pretend like I was part of the gang." "Buddy it's not pretend! You are part of the gang! You think you're so cool and powerful when really you're just an idiot who talks too much!" "You're the one who made me like this so you could use me for your middle school revenge fantasy!" "Oh my god- you know at least me and Henry Bowers KNOW we're mean. You try to act so fucking innocent like "Oohhh i'm just a widdle nerd, look at my buck teeth and silly voices. Watch me use my sense of humor to never take accountability for the stupid shit I say!"" "You know what Eddie? I'm not your fucking boyfriend, it's not my fault you're in love with me!".

-That was enough to make Bill stop moving his bike right in the middle of the street and just stare at Richie like :0

-Eddie is utterly incesned by this. He is enraged. The betrayal. The audacity. The drama.

-"God, that is just the thing with all of you Bowers goons, you think everyone is in love with you when actually everyone hates you. Like Connor Bowers for example, you drove a wedge between him and his cousin and guess what? HE STILL DOESN'T WANT YOU RICHIE. So why are you still messing with Henry, Richie? I'll tell you why, because you're an asshole! You're a fucking bully!"

-This is a rather pivotal moment for Richie, as it's clear Eddie (and all the other losers mind you) are deeply hurt by how far he's taken this, and it makes him seriously reconsider it all.

-Greta finally informs Henry that those Kalteen bars make you gain weight, but she does it in probably the worst way possible

-"Why are you eating a kalteen bar?" "Because i'm hungry Greta, what the fuck do you think?" "Man I hate those things, my mom's making me eat those to go up a cupsize." "... what?" "My dad sells them at the pharmacy, they're usually for underweight people who wanna gain a lot of weight quickly. My mom thinks it'll make me curvier." "..." "Are you okay, Henry?" "..."

-cue girly over the top scream

-Henry goes home and proceeds to write himself into the burn book with the words "Faggy cow" scribbled around a cut out picture of him with Richie.

-He makes copies of the pages and spreads them all around. Then heads right to the principles office and starts fake sobbing about being called the f slur.

-Ofc everyone goes nuts, Eddie's mad he's being called gay again, Bill's mad the burn book makes fun of his stutter, and everyone is 100% certain this is Richie, Belch, and Vic's fault.

-the whole assembly goes about the same as a movie, Henry says they don't have a clique problem, Vic says he's sorry everyone's so jealous of him for being smarter than everyone else, Henry says something homophobic about Eddie so he admits to all the horrible things he and Richie did to him. And you know... Henry gets hit by a bus. As per usual.

-The whole third act of the movie basically the same with just a few things changed, Richie and Eddie BOTH apologize for what they've said, Connor and Richie decide there's too much toxcicity there for them to date but they decide to be friends anyways, and Henry gets some therapy. Hooraaaaaay.

I now must leave you all with this image which I think is just perfect for this au given the emphasis on lunch tables:

[randomsloredrops]

Random's Lore Drops - Cnaonfell Papayas WOOOO-

i'm running out of shit to name these you gotta give me suggestions as to what I can name these lore drops. fish lady's next so literally ANYBODY who's reading this gimme a funny name to call undyne in her post. ANYWAYS, Howdy hey fellas, name's Ran- wait no, that's my intro in my soundcloud FUCK. Anyways, name's Random, you know this, you read the fucking title, let's get to the point. BRING OUT THE PICTURE OF THE... wait... just Papyrus? He doesn't have a canon nickname? Fuck... BRING OUT PAPYRUS!

(Design by THE one and only Vic The Fella/Underfella/Underfell.) You dont understand how long it took me to get the small amount of sans out and all of the information arrows, holy SHIT. anyways cue the uhhh read more

alright time to act formal now that the curtains are down or some shit idk. Papyrus T. Skeleton, also known as Papyrus, Pap, and also... bonehead? wait am i reading this right? damn,, alright, so basically fuck the formality. alright jackasses, let's get yapping. if you know papyrus, then you should be able to tell that, well... he's a skeleton. hence the last name "skeleton". but, unlike undertale's papyrus, canonfell papyrus... is a part of the fucking royal guard. IN FACT! he's second in command, which means he's actually pretty cool and... cool. yeah, that's it. anyways, you might have noticed the weird wonky armor that just looks like an evil papyrus armor, HOWEVER, he does have official "Royal Guard" armor that he despises wearing. Unless he's on official business, such as with Asgore or Undyne, he won't wear it. Design is HERE. You're prolly wondering where Papyrus got his scar from. Well, basically, to put a long story short, his brother was about to get killed by uhhhh Asgore because he couldn't break the barrier like Gaster said they would, and so Papyrus stopped Asgore. Guess what HE gets? A position in the Royal Guard, and his eye being stabbed in by Asgore's claw. Sans gets POWERS!, thas it. Unlike most Monsters in Underfell, he feels remorse- hold on, what's that word mean? what the fuck does remorse mean, google dot com... found it. so basically, he feels regret any time he HAS to kill, and he also swears the least out of everybody. Oh, right. CHECK OUT BROTHER RELATIONSHIP HERE FUCKHEADS! k, i dont have to explain. Oh yeah, Papyrus laughs really fucking weirdly, going "HAW HAW HAW" instead of "NYEH HEH HEH". According to fella, it is a "very powerful ugly laugh". It makes him hate when people try to make him laugh. According to my sources (canonfell wiki)... Ahem... "Papyrus likes evil puns, but will not get regular ones". I am going to kill somebod- Oh YEAAAH, papayas cooks lasagna instead of spaghetti. He also cooks chimichangas, which Sans sells, and he... wants to write his own cookbook? I mean, shit, I'd buy it. Also, in terms of, like, AUs meeting AUs, Underfell Papyrus is friends with Horrortale Papyrus and "Trades" recipes. He does not accept Horror Papyrus' recipe for... obvious reasons. Papyrus is an AMAZING actor, being able to pretend that he's this menacing Royal Guard, and pretend he does the killing he's forced to do for sport. Don't forget that his voice is canonically deeper, but he can LITERALLY just raise the pitch in his voice whenever he wants and shock people. Lastly (because it's almost 2 AM)... Papyrus is Asgore's number 1 hater, and he can't do shit about it (if Papyrus is weaker than Undyne, and Undyne's weaker than Asgore... Well, obviously he won't win). Anyways, fuck you, I hope you have a wonderful rest of your week!

[befuddled-calico-whump]

Total$hit$how: Hail Mary

in which Benji tries to make a friend

cw: referenced torture/interrogation, death mention, adult language

previous /// masterlist /// next

×~×~×

They were summoned to the briefing room instead of the training bay that morning, and Benji stumbled through the door sleepy and uneasy, stuck with a pit in his stomach that had formed the second Vic pushed play on the video. It hadn’t exactly gotten worse since, but he had a feeling it wasn’t going away anytime soon.

He was happy Sahota was safe and not-currently-being-tortured, he was, but he didn't know how to respond to the whole situation. What did you say to someone who'd just escaped a brutal interrogation session? Literally hours ago? It wasn't the kind of event they made greeting cards for.

After last night, he could kinda get why their trainer was so intense all the time. What kind of sane person went through that and then, as Kaius said, just walked it off? Vic was right. None of them were used to he and Sahota's brutal lifestyle, least of all Benji. Even after Sahota had made it back, he'd still had nightmares about that stupid video. And as much as he felt bad for the guy, he was still every bit as scary as he'd always been. Maybe scarier.

Benji hoped their trainer wouldn't be in the meeting at all, that he'd take the day off, but he knew neither of them were that lucky. And sure enough, when he stepped into the briefing room to take a seat beside Kaius, their trainer was standing at the head of the table, looking over the contents of the Important Folder, face impassive as ever despite the bruises that covered it. 

Shit, how was he standing? It wasn't even like he had to stand; there were plenty of seats. Did he just like standing that much? Or was this some kind of posturing? A ‘yeah I'm tougher than you, so what?’ type of intimidation tactic. If it was, it was working.

Still, it only seemed polite to congratulate him on the whole not-being-captured thing.

Benji cleared his throat.

“How are you feeling on this fine morning?” he asked, trying to keep his tone lighthearted. He had the feeling Sahota wouldn't appreciate something as pitiful as concern.

“Fine,” he replied flatly, and that seemed to be the end of it.

“If I were you, I would've stayed in bed,” Benji tried, and didn't know why. The guy clearly wasn't in the mood to discuss it. Maybe this really was as common an occurrence as Vic had implied. Just another Tuesday morning.

“You're not me,” Sahota replied, his eyes glued to the folder in his hands.

Okay, he'd take the hint and shut up now. If there was one person he didn't want to see pissed off, it was Sahota. Well… Sahota and Vic. As friendly as he normally was, Vic had shown he could be pretty scary when he wanted, and every threat he made was backed up by the cold hard fact that their lives actually were in his hands.

Kaius was silent beside him, and Benji wondered if he'd been similarly shut down by their trainer. Probably not. Kaius had probably read the room a little better and been quiet from the start.

Joy and Jericho were the next to enter, and he heard one of them wince in sympathy.

“Sahota…”

“Shit, dude.”

If Sahota recognized their less-than-nuanced reactions at all, he didn't address it. “Take your seats. Once Harbor arrives, we'll go over the new findings.”

Joy sat beside Benji, and when he saw her start to open her mouth, he tried to nudge her under the table in warning, but she ignored him.

“You're not looking so hot,” she said. “Maybe you should sit down.”

“I'm fine,” Sahota replied.

“Like fuck you are,” Joy said. “Isn't there a medic or something on this base? You should—”

“I'm fine,” Sahota spat. “It's not your place to tell me what I should or shouldn't do, Cavan. If I hear any more insistent comments, I'll meet you all on the sparring mats after this.”

Jericho’s face turned a shade more worried. “Now?”

“You think I can't?” When no one answered, he snapped the folder shut and tucked it under his arm. “I'll thank you all to remain on track.”

His touchiness about the subject seemed like more than just annoyance. Was he embarrassed?

Benji got that. A feeling like scraping your knee as a kid and wanting to hide your tears from your friends. Only Sahota wasn't crying. Benji wasn't even entirely sure he was capable of such a feat.

The door swung open and Vic strolled inside, Harbor on his heels. They'd been spending a decent chunk of time together. Private tutoring, or whatever. Maybe more than just that, judging by the way Harbor looked at Vic like he was made of gold. Not really his business either way. If Harbor was happy cozying up to the scary spy man, Benji wasn't gonna judge him for it.

“Good morning, everyone. Glad you could make it.”

“Wouldn't miss it for the world,” Benji said. What would happen if he did miss it? Would Sahota get in his face and threaten him again? Drag him out of bed? Would Vic coolly remind him that the alternative was prison?

“We've recently acquired new intel.” Vic crossed the room, taking the folder from Sahota and laying it in the center of the table. “Sahota will brief you, and then we'll be requiring some of your skills in order to refine it. Questions?”

A heavy silence answered him. Not even Joy raised her hand.

“Wonderful. I’ll leave you in his capable hands.” Vic clapped Sahota on the back, in a gesture that might’ve been friendly if it weren’t for the wounds Benji knew were hiding under his shirt. Their trainer stifled a yelp, his expression flickering from stony to pained, then back to stony in the blink of an eye.

“Ah, my apologies,” Vic said, though something in his voice had Benji wondering if he'd done it on purpose. Like some kind of inside joke. A little ‘gotcha’. Vic threw a smile at Sahota on his way out, closing the door behind him. Their trainer didn't acknowledge it.

Sahota moved to the table, opening the folder and fanning out its contents. It was only then that Benji saw the bandages on his right hand, carefully hidden in his jacket sleeve before now, binding three of his fingers together in a stiff white mass. When he glanced down, he saw a flash of white on his other hand, too.

Jeez.

“I’ve narrowed down our target to a single spot,” Sahota said, tapping one of the papers. “Rotorworx’s northwestern location. The Elysium Building.”

Benji swallowed down the unhelpful pang of sympathy that was attempting to shake him like a tambourine. Elysium. He knew of the place, vaguely. He wasn’t a city native, hadn’t even set foot in San Arbos before getting this bizarre excuse of a job offer, but when you’d been staging high-end robberies for over a decade, you tended to notice the shinier buildings when you wound up somewhere new.

Sahota slid a second paper from the pile. “They use a custom security program, but I managed to work out a few of the specs. Aside from that…” He pushed forward a third page. “I also compiled a list of names. Individuals who may be connected to the development of the Reality Cage.” He slid one page over to Jericho. “Davis, Cavan, I want you on security. See Vic about getting computer access.”

Jericho took the page, and Joy leaned over in her chair to peer at it over his shoulder.

Sahota passed the other paper to Kaius. “Manak, sift through the names and see if anyone listed is particularly relevant. Cross-reference with our database to find any knowns. We may be able to bribe an insider.”

Kaius’s expression darkened when Sahota added,

“Take Harbor with you.”

It was almost enough to make Benji chuckle, but not quite.

“Find out what you can,” Sahota finished. “We’ll reconvene at 1600.”

Each pair scurried off, assignments in hand, like elementary schoolers who’d just been tasked with a group project. Which left only Benji, shifting awkwardly in his chair as Sahota took the seat opposite him.

Shhhit, was he in trouble? He pored over any recent maybe-offenses, his stellar anti-confrontational brain at the ready to create an excuse or explanation or outright lie that would put him in the clear.

But… he hadn’t actually done anything, had he? Unless this was about how useless he’d been in the maze yesterday. Would Sahota even know about that?

“Um,” he began.

“Ruebin,” Sahota said at the same time, and Benji quickly shut his mouth.

“I need your skills for another task.” His hand dipped under the table, coming back with a little metal box, roughly the size of a zippo lighter. Its seam was so fine it was nearly invisible, a teeny-tiny lock on one end. A tubular cam in miniature.

“I’m guessing you want me to pop that open?” Benji said, holding out his hand. Sahota made no move to give him the box.

“Inside is a micro-USB with Elysium’s full floorplans on it. The box is titanium. Unable to be opened without the key or application of powertools. Brute force could destroy the intel within. The wrong key will destroy the lock and render it inoperable.”

Benji let out a low whistle. “That’s some real spy shit, huh?”

“I don’t currently have the finesse required to pick the lock,” Sahota continued, ignoring his comment in a way that Benji would normally consider rude, but since this was Sahota, it was pretty par for the course.

“What happened to the key?” he asked, deciding it was better to question that than Sahota’s lack of finesse. He already knew the explanation there.

“I had to destroy it.”

Benji raised an eyebrow. “And you don’t have, like, an extra one laying around here somewhere..?”

“Defeats the purpose of the real spy shit, doesn’t it?” Sahota muttered. “I need you to get it open.” At long last, he placed the box on the table and nudged it towards Benji. He picked it up, smooth metal still warm from Sahota’s palm.

“Hand tools are available for your use. Take all the time you need.” He laid a small leather booklet on the table, lockpicks the size of needles nestled within. “If you screw it up, chances are high that we lose the information inside.” His eyes met Benji’s, looking darker than usual against his bruised skin. “Don’t screw it up.”

Benji swallowed, closing the thing in his fist. “Roger that.”

It was bad enough being tasked with something that was both so critical and so easy to fuck up. It became a million times worse when Sahota made no move to leave, instead settling back in the chair across from him and sifting through the folder. 

Benji cleared his throat. “Um…”

“What?”

Benji shrugged. “I, ah, don’t usually do this for an audience,” he said. Not entirely true, but he wasn’t about to tell Sahota that he made him nervous. “My best work has always come out of solo acts, so if you wouldn’t mind…?”

“I do mind.” A paper rustled in his hand as he turned it over. “For the purpose of the mission, the contents of that box are top secret. I’m not letting it out of my sight.”

Benji let out a heavy sigh before he could stop himself, but if Sahota noticed, he didn’t seem to care. He set the box on the table and pulled the lockpicks closer. A half-diamond pick would probably be a good place to start, at least for probing. Benji twirled the tiny thing between two fingers, trying to plant his gaze on the lock itself, and not on the man across from him.

Fuck, Sahota’s presence just made him more anxious about this. Stupid or not, his brain found solace in distance, reasoning that if he did fuck up, at least he had a head start on running away. As it was, he was sitting closer to an arm’s length. Within punching distance. Hair-grabbing distance. Sahota had already done that once, and that had been for the crime of fake-surrendering. What would he do if Benji messed up some actually-critical shit?

He was almost too nervous to hold the pick right. 

Really, this was perfect. What was better than being stuck in a room with someone you were slightly terrified of? Being stuck in a room with someone you were terrified of but also kinda felt bad for, of course. If he hadn’t just watched Sahota get tortured, he might be able to sit quiet and pick the lock in an anxiety-fueled haze. If it were anyone else in his trainer’s position, he could just talk to them and make sure they were okay. But those two concepts just didn’t mix right, and the longer he sat in silence, the more the bizarre cocktail of worry and care and fear shook up inside him.

He had to say something. So far, none of them had really been conversational with their trainer, only interacting with him during the training itself. Maybe that was the root issue. Maybe a little chit-chat would make them both feel better, and kickstart Sahota’s defrost cycle.

“Crazy weather we’ve been having, huh?” Benji said, easing in the lockpick. A darting glance up told him Sahota was choosing to ignore the remark. Benji chose to ignore his ignorance.

“That was a joke,” he said. “Y’know, because I haven’t been outside in a week.”

Again, no response, but he didn’t look particularly pissed off, so Benji continued.

“Is this what your normal routine is like? 90-10, indoor-outdoor—?”

“Are you not capable of doing this quietly?”

Benji paused in his lockpicking endeavors. “Well no, not really. If I do have an audience, it’s polite to engage in conversation.” And for a lot of his sleight-of-hand tricks, it was necessary, a subtle distraction. It wasn’t like he was capable of fooling Sahota in this particular instance, but it sure made him feel more comfortable. If only he could say the same for his trainer.

“If you insist on talking, at least talk about something useful.”

“Like what?”

“Walk me through your steps. Recite fun facts. I don’t fucking know.”

“Or,” Benji said, swapping out picks, “we could get to know each other. Do you have a favorite food? Mine’s pad thai.”

He didn’t know how it was even possible, but Sahota’s glare got even more glare-y. “No.”

“No favorite food?” Were spies just quakers with guns?

“No, I don’t want to get to know you.”

Okay, ouch. “Not even a little bit? I mean I’m 20% of your prize team—”

“You’re a criminal we chose at random for your skillset and proximity,” Sahota said evenly. “You aren’t special.”

Wow. This was going so great. “And I suppose you are?”

“I’ve been doing this job for twelve years.”

Benji huffed. “Well I’ve been stealing and shit for like, ten. Can’t we agree that we’re both special in wholly unique ways?”

Sahota didn’t reply. Benji let out a heavy, exaggerated sigh, and set his attention back on the lockbox. He was almost tempted to try on the silence; the icy friend-rejecting attitude the other man wore so easily. But… in for a penny, in for a pound.

“How’d you get started on the job anyway?” he asked. “I doubt there’s many ‘help wanted’ signs out there for this gig.”

“I was recruited in the field,” Sahota answered after a pause.

“Recruited in the field,” Benji repeated. “Is that like, spy code for ‘recommended by a family member’, or..?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Were you recruited by Vic?”

“Yes.”

“So what, he just saw you in the field and was like, ‘I like the cut of your jib, kid’?”

“Yes.” 

Benji slumped forward on the table, careful not to jostle the lockpicks. “Okay. Cool.” The conversation piece was way harder to traverse than he would’ve thought. Sahota seemed hellishly determined to remain as frigid and distant as possible, but Benji had one final hail mary.

“Is the job like this a lot?”

Sahota didn’t look up. “Like what?”

He gestured vaguely at the other man. “That. Y’know, violent. Sending you home with bruises.”

The trainer’s eyes closed, the corner of his mouth tightening. “What did I say about—?”

“I’m not insisting on anything,” Benji said quickly. “Obviously you can handle it and obviously you’re fine, but… I don’t know. You’re our teacher. Part of the team, technically. Aren’t we allowed to worry a little bit?”

When Sahota didn’t answer, Benji sighed, taking up the lock again. He’d tried. So much for his supposed ‘get along with everyone’ superpower. The two of them sat in silence for a good several minutes, nothing but the tiny click of lockpicks at work and the faint, occasional rustle of a paper being turned over or tucked away.

“Chana dal,” Sahota said, and Benji looked up from his work, squinting at him in confusion.

“Huh?”

“You asked for my favorite food. Chana dal.”

“Oh.” He nodded. “Yeah, that’s a good one, that’s… the one with the lentils, right?”

“Have you never tried it?” To his surprise, Sahota actually glanced up at him with the question.

“I probably have,” Benji said. “I just don’t fully remember.” He put on as harmless an expression as he could. “Have you ever made it here? Not to shit on Vic’s cooking, but it’s kinda… bland.”

He swore that almost got a smile out of Sahota. Almost. 

“Vic does what’s necessary,” he said. “I’ve made it before. Usually comes out decent, but nowhere near as good as…” He paused, dropping his eyes back to the papers, the muscle in his jaw tensing. “I’ve had better.”

“I probably haven’t,” Benji said, carefully breezing past whatever Sahota was trying to keep down. What had he been about to say? A name? A restaurant? Something he missed, probably, maybe a family member. Benji knew that ache well enough, but Sahota’s own wasn’t his business. Not yet. 

“Maybe you could make it for the team one of these days?” he said, readjusting the lockpick. “For luck.”

“Maybe.”

Click. The tiny metallic sound rang out from the box in his palm, and Benji looked down at it in surprise. 

“Shoot. I… I think I got it.”

Sahota leaned forward. “Really?”

Benji pressed his thumb into the top half of the little box, gently pushing it open. Inside, in a felt-lined compartment that looked like it was molded to be an exact fit, a micro-USB was nestled like a sleeping puppy.

“Quicker than I'd expected.” Sahota opened his palm, and Benji set the USB in it, box and all, freely wearing a proud smile.

Look at him go, using his skills for critical work and shit. “I told you I was special, didn't I?”

Sahota's expression shifted oh-so slightly, reflecting something that Benji could almost read as impressed if he squinted.

“I guess you did.”

~~

The others filed back inside eventually; Joy and Jericho with what he described as an ‘outline of an outline’ of a plan to hack the system, and Kaius with new notes written in the margins of the list he’d been given. Harbor trudged in after him, just as quiet as he’d been the last few days. Benji could’ve sworn the guy had been louder at the start, almost like he was trying to impress the rest of them with a wannabe-punk attitude. Maybe it had just been first-day nerves.

Kaius stepped forward to lay his paper flat on the table. 

“Our findings indicate every name on this list has some level of involvement with the Reality Cage,” he began. “Interns, security, research assistants, and the like. Of this group, one individual sticks out. Rebecca Finley.”

“What's so special about her?” Benji asked.

“From what we can tell, she's the only one who overtly operates outside the law. She's a supplier for rare metals, synthetic gasses, and other materials that may have been used to craft the Reality Cage. Of the listed individuals, she'd likely have the best idea of how to destroy it, and may well be familiar with the comings and goings of the Elysium Building.”

Benji shrugged. “You got me there.”

“Do you have a plan?”

“Locate Finley. See if she'll cooperate.”

“If she doesn't?”

Kaius pressed his lips together. “We'll explore other options.”

On the far side of the room, Vic pushed himself up from the wall he was leaning on. “Finley doesn’t seem like the sort who’s willing to take a bribe.”

“She’s a direct line to Rotorworx's under-the-table technologies,” Kaius replied. “If we can’t bribe her, perhaps we can convince her in other ways.”

Vic rubbed his chin. “You could also kill her and steal whatever data she has on her person.”

Benji's mouth was suddenly dry. “Kill her? Like, kill her kill her?”

“I wasn't aware there was more than one variant,” Vic said, raising an eyebrow.

“Is… is that really necessary?”

“That method will get you answers far quicker than talking.”

Benji swallowed. “Okay, so maybe we should go after someone else?”

“Who else would you suggest, Ruebin?” Kaius asked, his eyes a level glare.

“Well, maybe no one. We've got the security info and the floorplans and the building. Isn't that enough?”

“You want to run in blind?”

“I want to not kill people.”

Kaius glanced at Vic briefly. “If that's our best option, it may be necessary. How do you plan on destroying it without insider intelligence? Hit it with a hammer?”

Something along those lines. “That usually works.”

“And just how many world-bending machines have you destroyed, Ruebin?”

“None, obviously, but I seriously don't think we need to—”

“Hey.” Joy held her hands in a time-out motion. “We can try and play it smart. Talk to Finley and figure out if she knows anything without revealing who we are”

Vic clicked his tongue. “And if she doesn't reveal anything herself, don't you think that's a waste of time?”

“I think it's worth a shot,” offered Benji, who really didn't want to have anything to do with the casual murder of someone.

Joy fixed her eyes on Kaius. “So? What's the plan? Do you have her address or something?”

“Or something,” Kaius murmured, tapping a line scrawled in pen on the paper. “A drop site. Supposedly where Finley picks up material requests from hopeful customers.”

And how exactly had Kaius figured that out? Seemed like a weird detail to find. Benji would've assumed a place of residence, or relatives, or even an officially listed job, especially if they'd had access to whatever database Sahota had promised.

“Material requests, hm?” Vic tapped at his chin. “Chances are you'd get more information from those than you'd ever be able to squeeze out of Finley.”

Kaius frowned. “I don't believe it's a literal drop site, just a meeting place.”

“Great,” Benji said through an exhale. “So let’s meet her there and talk.”

“We're on a tight schedule,” Vic said. “A fruitful interrogation is a drawn-out affair.”

“Whoa, I'm not even saying interrogate her," Benji said. "Why not just… y'know, have a conversation? Maybe she'll cooperate.”

“I can promise you, she won't,” Vic said. 

“You don't know that for sure—”

“I do. She makes a living off of dangerous deals with dangerous people.” He slid the sheet of paper away from Kaius, glancing it over. “She won't give anything up.”

“But—”

“Kill her,” Vic cut him off. “Or move on. We don't have time to waste.” He set the paper back on the table and turned his back, leaving behind a roomful of uncomfortable silence.

Benji glanced around, looking for someone to make eye contact with, someone he could pin with a silent, this is crazy, right? Kaius was looking at the paper, Harbor was looking at his hands, and Jericho and Joy seemed to have their eyes fixed on the floor, expressions undecipherable. Finally, his gaze landed on Sahota.

“We're… we aren't actually going to kill her, are we?”

“Pursuing her as a lead isn't necessary,” Sahota replied. “At the end of the day, it's up to you to decide what intel you'll need for the mission. You can disregard the list completely if it suits you.”

Kaius frowned. “You bled for it.”

“I've bled for less. There are other options.”

Joy let out a heavy sigh. “It sounds like we'd get the most from Finley. Why can't we just talk? She doesn't need to know why we want to know anything. We can just make something up. Pretend to be customers or some shit.”

“You heard Vic.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I'm not killing anyone.”

Jericho was already nodding. “What Vic doesn't know won't kill him, right?”

“You're underestimating what Vic is able to figure out,” Sahota said.

“At the end of the day, it's up to us to decide what we want, right?” Benji ventured. “You just said—”

“That doesn't mean going against orders,” Sahota shot back, moving to the table to collect the papers.

“Just let us talk to her,” Joy said.

“You think she'll listen? She'll see right through you.”

“Fine then.” Joy threw her hands up. “Maybe we will interrogate her.”

“It won't work.”

“Well you won't know that for sure if we don't try—”

“I do know for sure.” Sahota dropped the folder onto the table, looking like he was about to follow Vic out the door. “Like Vic said. You can kill her, or—”

“How do you know?” Joy stood. “You might be smart, and a ruthless operator, and all that shit, but you don't know all there is to know about us.”

Sahota stopped. “You want me to prove it?”

“Yes.”

He turned around, sweeping the room with a cool gaze. Benji wasn't sure he liked where this was going. Sometimes he wished Joy wouldn't push the envelope. They'd probably be fine if they listened to Vic and just left it alone, they didn't need need Finley, did they?

“Show me what you've got,” Sahota said. “If you can prove me wrong, I'll let you try it. If you can't, I'll kill Finley myself.”

Joy frowned. “So, what? You want me to have a conversation with you?”

“No.” He rolled his shoulders like he was warming up for something, and Benji couldn’t help but cringe at the next words that left his mouth.

 “I want you to interrogate me.”

×~×~×

tag list:

@theonewithallthefixations , @violets-whumperflies , @whump-me , @pirefyrelight , @soheavyaburden , @snakebites-and-ink , @whumpsday

[writersblockiskillingme]

Timezone | Damiano David

Pairing: Damiano David x female!reader

Summary: As Damiano and you are forced to be apart, you both slowly start to feel like you're loosing your mind.

Warning/s: Language (maybe like one curse word that is repeated two to three times), mention of smut (but not explicit), Google translate

Author's note: Here is another Damiano song imagine I hope you like it. I might make one with Thomas Raggi very soon 🤫

You're wearing my old clothes, but you, you wear it better

And every time I sew your face, the moon should be jealous

And I keep talking to the wall 'til he's a friend of mine

I call you every hour just to tell you that I'm loosing my mind

Now I know you're sleeping

Where I'm supposed to be in

Wish I could've stayed

Damiano has had enough. The fame felt too much and the videocalls, phone calls and messages weren't enough anymore. He was practically pulling his hair out as he continued to mindlessly walk around his hotel room. His completely empty hotel room. He looked at his perfectly made bed and at his perfectly sorted out clothes in the closet and Damiano was finally, officially done. He couldn't take this torture anymore.

He strolled mindlessly to the big window of his hotel room as his eyes roamed around the busy streets of LA. People were rushing everywhere and Damiano realized that they were completely obvious to his suffering. He thought it was unfair.

He roughly ripped the cigarette out of the back pocket of his jeans. As he went to light up the cigarette it begin to accur to him that sun was still shining brightly in the middle of the sky. He realized that the moon must be keeping company to his beloved. Not that you were probably enjoying the darkness that the moon swept in, he thought. You must be still deep in your sleep considering the fact that it was probably middle of the night where you were right now. As Damiano opened the window and stepped onto the balcony he let himself enjoy the bright rays of sunshine on his bare back. He blew the smoke out of his mouth and looked towards the sun. It was shining so bright that Damiano was pretty sure that it was mocking him. He knew that it was mocking him. The sun was pure reflection of his life right now. It was shining on him so brightly, but it also reminded him that you are not in the same position as he is right now. He was covered in sunshine yet you were bathing in moonlight. It wasn't fair.

With a sigh, he threw away the cigarette and returned to the room closing the window behind him. Empty room remained him not only of you, but also that his band mates were out right now. Damiano was pretty sure that they went out partly because of his constant whining about not being able to do more that to just see your gorgeous face over FaceTime. It wasn't his fault that he was whining about it constantly, he thought. Those calls were sometimes quite impractical, anyways. For one, he couldn't touch you. He could only watch your beauty from far away. He couldn't smell your sweet scent. Your shampoo. Your perfume that he sometimes liked to steel away just so that he could smell like you (it was fine you did it with his perfume, too). He knew that Vic, Thomas and Ethan were practically sick of him now because he was talking so much about you. Ethan thought that he looked like a tortured puppy whenever Damiano mentioned how much he misses you. You were talking to everyone on the band, too and Ethan knew that you were like that, too.

In fact, everyone got so worried for you two because as time went by and you two spend much more time away from one another it looked like you both started to not take as much care for your well-beings as you did before. Everyone saw how much this long distance affected both Damiano and you. Thomas barely stopped Vic from buying Damiano tickets back to Italy (you moved there with him) one hour before the show so he could see you.

Damiano was done. But he couldn't help himself. He just kept calling you when the moon is shining in LA, when some people were asleep like dead and some people were partying until they die. He just wanted to hear your voice yet he knew that everytime he calls you, you can hear desperation in his rough voice. Damiano was very well aware that he was slowly loosing his mind. Especially when it was night where you were and you were deep in your sleep. He didn't want to disturb you, so he somehow managed to gain some self control and not call you then. It was all right, though. You were loosing your mind, too.

He took one more look at his perfectly made up bed and knew what was missing.

If you two weren't apart, you would be sprawled out on the bed, bare back facing the door, hair messed up, face pressing into the pillows, deep in sleep after the passionate activities that him and you took part in the night before. His whole hotel room was mocking him. He knew that very well. All this torture... it took everything in his willpower to not run to the airport and never let you go from his arms.

Only thing that keeps us apart

Is seven thousand miles, running like a mad dog

Only thing that keeps us apart

Is a different timezone

So fuck that I'm dreaming, this fame has no meaning

I'm coming home

Only thing that keeps us apart

Is a different timezone

"So how is the tour going?" Your slightly raspy voice asked him.

It was an early morning in Italy and you just woke up from your slumber. In fact, you were still in bed. On the other hand, Damiano has been awake for hours. It was still dark outside and he put his laptop outside on the balcony on the fresh LA air. God knows he needs it.

"It's good." Damiano told you. "It's good..." He repeated slowly as he finally blew out another little cloud of smoke from yet another cigarette.

The way he repeated his answer seemed like he was just trying to convince himself that everything was perfect, that everything was just the way he imagined it to be. But you knew better. You knew he was hiding something and you were pretty sure that you could guess what it was.

"What is wrong, amore?" You asked him and for a moment, when Damiano looked back from the night sky to the screen, he felt himself freeze.

He knows that you are beautiful, but the way that you smiled sadly at him and the way that one piece of your hair fell in front of your eyes, he was once again hit with the feeling of loneliness. It painted him greatly because even though he can se your breathing smile and hear your melodic voice, it wasn't the same. You weren't really there with him. For a bare moment he didn't say anything, you figured that that would happen. So you went on.

"I know when something is wrong." You told him and he started to deeply stare in your eyes, you felt like he was staring into your soul. It was truly curious considering the fact that you had a videocall. "Your eyes start to drop in a certain way. They get more serious." You continued, your voice softening with every word you said and he noticed that. He always does. Just like you always do, too.

"The tour is going amazing. Vic, Tom and Ethan are amazing like always. But you know what is wrong." Damiano took another hit from the cigarette and quickly blew another cloud of smoke out of his mouth. He started to smoke more. You noticed that fact after your 50th call this week. He started to smoke more then he usually does and you could partly guess why.

"You're right. I do know." You sighed as you rubbed your hands over your face. In return, he turned his concerned eyes back to you. "It's killing me, too. I feel like I can't do it anymore either." You admitted to him. He let his hand run through this hair as he put out the cigarette with his other hand. You could just watch how he smashed it in the ashtray angrily.

"I miss you so much it hurts." Damiano heard himself admit this to you for like the millionth time today. "I just want you to be back in my arms. I can't fucking do this anymore. I don't want to."

"Me neither."

Tomorrow I got another plane, I'm not gonna take it

Instead, I'm gonna fly straight to you, I'll pay double for the tickets

And I don't give a shit about the contracts that I signed

And they can say whatever, we'll be making love, I'm fucking you tonight

Now I know you're sleeping

Where I'm supposed to be in

Wish I could've stayed

Victoria, Thomas and Ethan watched Damiano with great concern as he continued to practically pull his hair out. Their manager just told them that they have to stay in LA for one more month. Not one more day. Not one more week. One more MONTH. Måneskin was supposed to leave in three days back to Italy, but the plan changed. This news added the fuel to the fire that was already actively burning. And that was enough for Damiano finally explode. The rest of the band barely stopped Damiano from nearly ripping the manager's head right of off his shoulders. Don't get him wrong. Damiano loved this tour and he loves his band more than anything. But he was supposed to finally go back in your arms and he was pretty sure that he never wanted to leave them, but his plans and hopes were now officially crushed, burned to the ground.

"Questo è tutto! Me ne sto andando! Non mi interessa nemmeno più questo. Voglio solo vederla per almeno un giorno." ["That's it! I'm leaving! I don't even care about this anymore. I just want to see her for at least a day."] He yelled out and Vic jumped up to her feet before she gave him a bone crushing hug. "Non posso più farlo, cazzo." ["I can't fucking do this anymore."] Damiano whispered as he gripped on Vic's hair. Victoria let her hand run down his back as she hugged him tightly. It painted her to see one of her best friends in this state. Suddenly, she let go of her, gripped Damiano's shoulders as she started to yell, too.

"Che cazzo stai aspettando?! Vai a trovarla per un giorno e dille che ci siamo salutati!" ["What the fuck are you waiting for?! Go and see her for a day and tell her that we said hello!"] Damiano looked at her in shock as Thomas and Ethan joined them, nodding.

"Sì! Amico, smettila di deprimerti e vai dalla tua signora." ["Yeah! Dude, stop moping around and go see your lady."] Thomas said. Thomas' confirmation along with Victoria's and Ethan's nodding was enough for Damiano to turn the entire hotel room upside down.

He pulled out his suitcase out of nowhere and started to pack. He was moving so fast and so much that the rest of the band thought that he's going to give them a headache. The point is, he didn't care what he put in in his suitcase. He packed just a few essential stuff, anyways. His mind was already with her, back in Italy, and it was the only thing that was important to him. It was safe to say that he was in and out before anyone could say anything else. And so, with one group hug and quickly exchanged "good bye"s and "have a safe flight"s, Damiano was off.

Practically running down the hall so he could get to the elevator and out of the hotel. He ran out on the busy street of LA and somehow managed to get a cab very quickly. He was extremely excited and kind of nervous. Damiano figured that he simply couldn't wait to get to the airport. The moment that the cab stopped, Damiano practically threw the cash at the driver and ran inside the airport, his suitcase stumbling behind him. Once he finally got into his flight he slumped down on his seat. He just couldn't wait do be home. And the waiting really paid off.

Damiano felt like his heart was going to burst its way out of his chest as he took a look at the building of your shared apartment. The flight was too long and he was just happy to be back. He knocked on the door after he went up the stairs and he was suddenly face to face with your sleepy eyes and your bright smile when you saw who was knocking on the door. Before any of you could get a word out you brought one another into a bone crushing hug. You started to cry in each other's embrace. You missed the way his arms were wrapped around you, you missed the way he always sounded so breathless when he joyfully laughed, you missed the way his eyes were shining, you missed him. He missed the way you smelled like the sweetest candy the way your eyes stared deep into his soul, he missed the feeling of your skin, he missed the beating of your heart. He missed you, too.

"You're home." You let out a soft sob as you hid your face in his shoulder, gripping on him tightly. You felt his arms tighten around you, too afraid to let you go, too afraid that either of you is going to dissappear.

"I am home. At last."

->

->

->

TAGLIST

@opal-rugger

JOIN THE TAGLIST HERE!!

[ladyjaneasherr]

April 5th 2024, happy beloved 78th birthday to the one and only Jane! She’s been my inspiration for around 12 years since I first discovered about her. It’s been a wonderful journey getting to share new pictures I find, my scans, colourisations and accurate information in regards of the pictures I found. May I be able to meet her one day. 🤍

This post will be divided in two, as the picture shown was used for two different newspapers that I scanned therefore the subtle mark on the photos. And you might have seen the photos with my old username so I am sharing them with the new one!

Jane Asher and Gawn Grainger as Juliet Capulet and Romeo in “Romeo and Juliet” presentation while being on tour in the USA, 1967.

First picture is my edition and enhancement from historical picture auction scan, second one is my scan from the newspaper, and third one is the scan of the newspaper.

Jane Asher-More Than a Beatle's Bird

In cities all across the U.S. this spring Beatle fans are swarming to a touring production of Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet staged by the Bristol Old Vic Company. When Juliet appears on stage for the first time the reaction is almost always the same. Applause thunders through the theater. Flash bulbs pop—electrifying the scene like summer lightning. At the end of the play young girls scream the name of the actress who plays Juliet: "Jane Asher! Jane Asher!" This is the girl they have come to see. To a Beatle fan Jane Asher's romance is even more exciting than the story of Romeo and Juliet. Jane Asher, in case you haven't heard, is the girl friend of Paul McCartney-the last unmarried Beatle.

An Interview With Jane

To find out what kind of girl dates a Beatle and also has enough talent to

perform in one of England's most respected theatre groups, CURRENT EVENTS Editor Nancy Malone talked to Jane Asher in New York City. The 20-year-old actress seemed puzzled when asked why teen-age girls scream for her. "I don't really know," she said “and I don’t think they’re quite sure themselves. Once they’re with me, they seem a little lost and aren’t sure what to do or say”.

Miss Asher, in contrast to her fans, is not at all confused. She is looking the forward to a successful career in the theatre—on her own merit, not because of her friendship with a Beatle. The actress with the golden-red hair is well on her way to stardom. Her portrayal of Juliet with England’s Bristol Old Vic company has been highly praised. The company is nearing the end of 16-city american tour, which began in Boston last January. After appearances next month in Bloomington, Ind., Detroit, and Cleveland, the company will perform at expo 67 in Montreal. Then the actors and actresses will retur to England.

Does Jane Asher hope to do more Shakespeare? "Oh, yes." she said, “I'd like to do all the Shakespearean heroines-especially Lady Macbeth. But I'd also like to do modern comedy. I wouldn't like ever to stick to just one thing. For example, I don't want to do all movies or all stage. Though if I had to choose, I'd choose stage. I like having a live audience.

Movie Fame Unimportant

"I know you can become more famous by being in movies,", Jane said. "but I've had a taste of that kind of glamor, and I know I don't want it. I want to be a good actress." Jane, who has been acting since she was five years old, comes from a show business family. Her brother, Peter Asher, has toured the U.S. several times. He makes up one-half of the popular singing duo Peter and Gordon.

But Jane hesitates to encourage outer young people to become entertainers. "It's really not the glamorous life people imagine. It's hard work with rehearsals all day and shows every night. And when you come right down to it, acting is really only pretending you're something else on stage." Although Jane made several films during her childhood, she attended regular m schools—not acting schools for m professionals. "I'm glad I got a normal education," she said. "I think it gave me a more balanced view of life. In addition to several Shakespearean roles, Jane has played Alice in Alice in Wonderland, Wendy in Peter Pan, and Eliza Doolittle in Pygmalion. Juliet, however, is the highlight of her career.

Jane and the Bard

She is particularly delighted that she is helping to acquaint American teenagers with Shakespeare. She commented on her own attitude as a 13-year-old: "I suppose I felt as all English schoolchildren do-that Shakespeare was pretty dull stuff with lots of language I didn't understand. I know I wasn't mad about it." Now, at 20, she believes that Shakespeare wrote "the greatest roles in the world." She added: "On this tour, I've gotten a lot of mail and it has meant a great deal to me. Some of the letters from kids say “We came to see you. We were so surprised. We really liked the play.” “That’s great. That’s a real accomplishment to me —as an actress”.

[crimson-calligraphyx]

Tag List: @cheyfi @kingdomof-omens @daylightlvrs @blade-in-red @ladyveronikawrites @jay02bo @itsmrsfuentes @cncohshit

I scoffed and rolled my eyes, tossing my phone down, and stood from my place on the couch. I returned to the kitchen where my mom and Victoria were having a lively conversation. Not wanting to impede, I simply went back to my task of making eggnog for the holiday, having only the eggs and sugar whipped together. Mom insisted she would start heating the milk in the saucepan while I took Noah's call, but I told her to let it be, knowing our conversation would be short-lived.

"Everything okay?" Vic asks after I slip by them to grab the milk and heavy cream from the refrigerator. "Just peachy," I mumbled, measuring the dairy and pouring it into the pot. I set the burner on medium before turning to the cabinet to grab the nutmeg, "Noah's flight was delayed. Supposedly needed to land elsewhere due to the snow here."

I hear my mom hum sympathetically, placing her hand on my upper back to rub. I shouldered her hand away, not wanting to be touched as I started to stew in aggravation and disappointment. "You know he'll be here, honey," she says calmly. "He's a man of his word." I laughed dryly, sprinkling the spice into the milk. "Sure, he is."

The room became thick with tension, and I felt their eyes on me while I worked away at the eggnog. I kept mine and Noah's dirty laundry packed away with a smile on my face whenever they'd ask how we were doing, but I felt that the facade I displayed was soon going to be torn down. Vic knew me too well for this to go by without some sort of discussion.

Still, I tried my best to keep my walls up and finished putting together the eggnog, placing it in the fridge after covering it properly. I took a deep breath and tacked on a grin before turning to them. "Why don't we open presents?" I asked, hoping to ease the discomfort in the room. I watched my mom's face light up, and she nodded before making her way into the living room where the tree was.

"Liv..." Vic calls my name softly, and I can see the worry strewn across her face when I bring my attention to her. Eyebrows pulled together and lifted, hazel eyes soft as they searched mine for a snippet of what was in my head. I pressed my lips into a saddened smile and averted my gaze from hers, trailing behind my mom before she had a chance to say anything.

We all sat in front of the tree in our matching pajamas, something we always did no matter our age, and handed each other our appropriate gifts. As we tore off the gift wrap, balling it up and tossing it at one another like children, I was able to keep my worries at bay with the laughter that bubbled out of me. The doubts I had were buried deep in the crevices of my mind, forgotten about as I took in the moment for what it was.

I held one of Vic's now-opened gifts in my hands. It was a Homesick candle, the state it represented of course being Virginia. It smelled heavenly; notes of pine needle, fir, and sandalwood. Immediately I'm blanketed in the comforting warmth of childhood memories—my mom's soothing voice, my dad's embrace that I missed dearly, late-night adventures with Vic and Ricky. With a smile, I closed my eyes and inhaled the aroma one more time before putting the lid back on and thanking her. I already couldn't wait to go home and burn it.

Her second gift was less sentimental, but it made me laugh—it was so her. Inside the box sat a silver chain, laid across a card that read 'I'd Help You Bury The Body'. Looking at it closely, there were beads so small that they were nearly flush against the chain in what appeared to be no pattern in particular. However, according to the card, they were strung in a way that displayed the message in Morse code.

I smiled over at her after slipping it onto my wrist, being met with a shit-eating grin. She winked, and I immediately pulled her into a tight embrace. "I knew there was a reason that you're my best friend," I giggled, resting my chin on her shoulder. She squeezes me and slowly rocks us side to side, "Don't fucking forget it, Liv. Miles and time zones away, I'll still find a way to stab a bitch."

At that moment, I realized just how much I missed her. She had been there for me through the thick of it, always encouraging me to stand up for myself. And if I didn't? She had no problem biting someone's head off for me—or anyone, really. I could only imagine what she would have to say if she knew how rocky things have been with Noah lately.

She would, without a doubt, call him up and tell him to pull his head out of his ass amongst other not-so-nice things...but she would also yell at me for drinking because of it. I felt the tears well up just thinking about it. I blinked them away before pulling away from her and thanking her again, promptly handing over the presents I had for her so that the tears wouldn't find their way back.

I had a similar gift, though less vulgar, consisting of best friend necklaces; one adorned with the state of Virginia, the other California. She loved them, but the other gift really won her over, having her throw her head back with laughter. It was a basic T-shirt that read 'ADULT DAYCARE DIRECTOR A.K.A. The Bartender'.

"I took some time putting this together, and I think you'll really like it," Mom tells me as she hands me her gift, a bright smile on her face. I was taken back by the weight of the present, but I returned the smile as I began to tear off the wrapping paper. I soon realized the reason behind the weight—it was a photo album, and jam packed by the looks of it.

My heart swelled as I flipped through the years; there were photos of me as a baby all the way up to present day. My first steps, birthday parties, holidays—my favorite being the year I took the tree down while my dad hoisted me up to top it with the star. There were two pictures of that moment: one as I was stepping into Dad's hands, the other a blurry picture as the tree came crashing down.

I laughed and continued flipping through the album, only for my smile to falter as I reached photos of my wedding.

It truly was a beautiful day; it was everything that I dreamed of, and more. The venue was immaculate, brandished with maroon and notes of silver, the bridesmaids' dresses perfectly matched. The room was filled with bliss, everyone's smiles genuine and bright. I was marrying the man of my dreams, nothing but love and adoration in mine and Noah's eyes as we said 'I do'.

That was the best day of my life, and I felt like I was on top of the world, on Cloud 9. But now? I was falling through that cloud at light speed, and I didn't know how to stop it or slow it down. Things were not the same as they were that day, and I hated it. He no longer looked at me like that, he no longer made a conscious effort in our marriage—it took me breaking down and relapsing for him to notice I wasn't happy.

And even then, things would get better for such a short amount of time that it all felt fabricated, temporary. I was beginning to think that maybe this marriage was temporary, and that broke my fucking heart.

"Olivia, what's wrong?" My mom asks, moving the book and taking hold of my hands, giving them a firm squeeze. "Talk to me baby, why are you crying?" I hadn't realized I was crying until she asked. All I could do was shake my head, not knowing where to begin as the sobs rolled out of my mouth.

"I'm gonna have to beat his ass when he gets here, aren't I?" Vic says, trying to make light of the moment. I wanted to laugh and tell her that it wasn't that serious, but I was too distraught to even crack a smile. I shook my head 'no' and sucked in a choppy breath, trying my best to gather myself as she rubbed circles in my back.

After a few minutes of breathing deeply, I ran my sleeve under my eyes and my nose with a sniffle. "Things just haven't been the best lately," I croaked, my throat raw from how hard I was crying. "What do you mean?" Mom asks gently, taking hold of one of my hands again with a squeeze. "I just feel so alone, so insignificant," I whispered, closing my eyes as tears started to burn them again. "It's all about the music." "Oh, honey," she coos, rubbing my shoulder. "I know it seems that way, but you know that's not true. That man loves you with all his heart."

My lips trembled, once again shaking my head. It sure as Hell didn't feel that way from all the excuses he spewed whenever I voiced my concerns.

"Then why did he take his wedding ring off, mom?" I whimpered, tears rolling down my cheeks. "I found it tucked in my shit when I got back from being on tour with him for a week. And have you noticed the glove on his left hand?" I laughed incredulously when she said she hadn't. "I sure did."

There was a weight in my chest that only got heavier and heavier as they remained silent. Soon enough, that weight pulled my heart straight to the pit of my stomach, churning as the uncertainty of this marriage sank in. The thought of leaving him to never return home, the home that we made our own, made me so sick to my stomach...but maybe it would be easier than hoping things would go back to the way they were.

-

I woke up to the feeling of the comforter being lifted from my body, the chill in the air caressing my shoulder. I kept my eyes shut while the mattress dipped as someone joined me and placed the blanket back where it belonged. I knew it was Noah as he wrapped an arm around me and pulled me against him, kissing my forehead. "I'm sorry," he whispers, followed by a huff as he settles into the mattress. "Me too," I whispered back, still waking up. He rubbed my back, and I relished the warmth that spread from it. "For what, love?"

For doubting that you'd be here, for being an emotional wreck, for drinking.

I sniffled, the remorse heavy and bringing tears to my eyes. "Everything," I struggled to say, trying to hold back a sob. "I told you I'd be here, Liv," he reassures me gently. Another pang of regret hits my chest, "I know, I'm sorry." He moves his hand to my head, running it down the length of my hair, and a comforting tingle runs down my spine. “Shh, enough of that. I’m here now, and we’re still going to celebrate Christmas, even if I’m a day late. Okay?” I nodded against his chest. “Would you like to open your present now? I have it here with me.”

I don't say anything, mulling over his question. He'd have to turn on the light, and he'd know right away that I had not only been crying, but drinking, too.

He huffs and kisses me on my forehead again before getting out of bed and turning the bedside light on. I immediately grimaced from the brightness, a dull ache forming behind my eyes. I rubbed one of my eyes to ease the pain as he turned with my gift in hand, and I watched his face fall when he took a good look at me. I know he knows I've been drinking.

Still, his lips curled up at the corners in a saddened smile as he took a seat, and he held out what appeared to be a wrapped picture frame. I take his gift, giggling at how shitty his wrapping skills still were after three years of trying to teach him how to properly do it.

I sat up before tearing off the paper, my eyes landing on two navy blue hearts, speckled with stars. I gasped, the title reading 'The Night Sky', followed by the dates of our engagement and wedding underneath their corresponding heart. It displayed how the stars aligned at those very moments, and it was beautiful—it filled me with happiness, with validation.

Yet I couldn't stop the tears from rolling down my face from this rush of guilt I felt due to the doubt I still had. Sure, this was a genuine, sentimental gift, but did it make up for all the forgotten dates and lonely nights?

My chin hits my chest as I crumple forward, sobbing, and Noah takes the gift from my hands before scooping me into his arms. I shoved my head against his chest, clinging onto his shirt, and held him against me while he let me cry.

"Olivia, please," he tries, rubbing my back. "What's going on?" He sways us back and forth gently, but I don't say anything. I can't, I didn't know how. "I-I'm sorry if my gift wasn't what you wanted—" "No," I cut him off when I hear the worry in his voice, and look at him through tear filled eyes. "I-it's everything that I wanted." It wasn't a lie; it was what I wanted, but I couldn't help the uncertainty that I still felt.

"I'm not understanding, Olivia," he says, shaking his head in confusion and holds my face between his hands. "What's got you so upset, then?" He brushes away the tears that fell from my eyes. "I'm scared," I say, my voice quivering. He scrunches his brows, still confused. "Scared of what?"

That this marriage is failing, that things won't go back to the way they were. That I'm losing you.

His eyes darkened with sorrow, bouncing back and forth between mine as he searches for an answer. I couldn't stand the anguish strewn across his face and closed my eyes, letting out a cry from how much it hurt me to admit these things.

Noah whispers my name, and I'm met with the same agonizing stare from him when I open my eyes. "What are you scared of, love?" I open my mouth to speak, but the words don't come out. My throat is dry, my heart is pounding in my chest, and all I can do is continue to look at the distraught expression on my husband's face when I finally say 'Us'.

His eyes gloss over, and it was like I punched him in the chest from the gasp he took. For the second time, I broke his heart. And I hated myself for it, but it needed to be said.

"W-what do you mean, 'us', Liv?" His voice shakes, and I know he's trying to keep his composure. "Look at us, Noah," I choked out. "Have things been okay between us? And don't say yes, because you know that that's not true." His lips parted, but he doesn't say anything. "You were barely home before tour, you constantly forgot about our dates, our anniversary dinner. It was like I didn't even matter to you! And then the ring?" I croaked on the last sentence, my throat burning from trying not to cry. "I-I didn't mean for those things to happen, Liv. And I swear to you, I only wanted the ring to be safe," he tries to reason with me. "I wasn't thinking when I put it in your bag." I shook my head in his hands, "I'm sorry, Noah, but I... I don't believe you." I squeezed my eyes shut; I couldn't bear seeing the despair on his face.

He presses his lips on my forehead, and he lets out a sob as he kisses me, feeling the warmth of his breath ghost over my skin. "I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry, Olivia," he whimpers, his mouth still against my forehead. “Please let me fix this. I promise I’ll do whatever it takes. I-I can’t lose you.” His voice cracks, and he rests his forehead against mine. I wrapped my hands around his wrists, holding myself up as I wailed in front of him. I could feel his pulse against my thumbs, pounding with anxiety induced adrenaline, and it made me cry even harder. I knew I was tearing him apart, which in turn was tearing me apart, too.

“Don’t make promises you don’t intend to keep, Noah. I can’t handle another broken promise.”

|Chapter 13|

[consanguinitatum]

David Tennant audios: a plethora of Macbeths (but this one's just MacB)!

It's been a while since I've delved into a lesser-known David Tennant project, so let's see if we can't fix that, shall we? And especially since he's currently at the Donmar Warehouse doing Macbeth, I've got just the thing to showcase! (And no, it isn't his 2005 role as the Porter in Arkangel Shakespeare's audio version of Macbeth, though that IS cool! And it's not the more recent April 2022 version of Macbeth he did for Radio 4 with Daniela Nardini as Lady Macbeth and Stuart McQuarrie as Banquo - two actors he's worked with in the past; Nardini in Antigone for the 7:84 back in early 1993, and McQuarrie in a 1994 production of John Byrne's The Slab Boys Trilogy at the Young Vic in London.)

No, this is yet another Macbeth-adjacent project. It was something David did in September of 2009 for a BBC Radio 7 programme called Big Toe Books. I'll say up front that I wish I knew a LOT more about this project than I do...but I just don't. So I'll tell you what I do know.

But first, a bit of history:

The Big Toe Radio Show - a children's programme aimed at children aged 9 to 11 and which featured games, music, and stories read from well-known books - ran on BBC Radio 7 from 2002 to 2007. When it ended in 2007, the BBC created another show with an adapted format to replace it called Big Toe Books.

Big Toe Books was an hour long show of book readings for older children 8+, which transmitted at 4pm. It featured presenters Kirsten O'Brien (2007-2009) and Chris Pizzey (2010-2011) and lasted until 2011, when it was axed. At the same time, Radio 7 was rebranded as a BBC Radio 4 spin-off station, Radio 4 Extra. At the time, Big Toe Books' listenership was about 136K, but only 21K were children.

Now you're probably wondering how all my ramblings about children's programmes ties in with Macbeth, right? Well as I said previously, David was a guest reader on Big Toe Books, and at 4pm on 14 Sep 2009, he read a book by Neil Arksey called MacB!

And there's the tie-in!

Here are a few blurbs from various newspapers featuring the listing for the show - and oh, incidentally, if you look at the 6pm slot, you'll see a show called Seventh Dimension. That show was a speculative fiction show of various kinds - and in early 2007, it featured a series of original Doctor Who audio dramas starring Paul McGann as the Eighth Doctor!

But back to David and MacB. Now Arksey's book wasn't the Macbeth we're familiar with…not really. Firstly, his book was written for young adults. Secondly, it was based on Macbeth the play, but Arksey set it on the football field rather than the Royal Court. Here's a summary of the plot: "It tells the tale of two best friends, Banksie and MacB. The two train together at football all summer in the hopes of getting onto the football team. When a fortune Teller tells them both that each would be captain, it seems unlikely, especially as they are up against star striker Duncan King, the most likely man for the job. When Duncan has a terrible accident that means he can't play, Banksie has suspicions about whether it really was an accident after all. Was it fate, or did MacB have a hand in it?"

And that's pretty much all I know about David's stint as a guest reader for BBC Radio 7 programme Big Toe Books, reading Neil Arksey's book MacB (which was originally published by Puffin in 1999). Like I said, I wish I had more information about this audio drama. But this little bit is all I've been able to find. And oh, if you want to hear it, go here! I won't tell if you won't!

[sequinsmile-x]

200

It's a normal case, or as normal as a case gets for them, right up until it isn't.

-x-

Hi besties!

As the title of the fic may suggest, this is my 200th fic!!! Which is insane and amazing and just about everything in between. I just want to take a moment to say thank you to all of you. To anyone who has ever read, commented, reblogged, left kudos or interacted with my work at all.

It is a real pleasure of mine to continue coming up with new ways to write these two being idiots in love for you all, and I'll be here continuing to do so as long as you're all here reading.

So, this is kind of a thank you to all of you. A true Vic special, and I hope you enjoy it.

Please let me know what you think <3

Here's to the next 200 I guess!!

-x-

Words: 7.5k

Warnings: Canon typical violence, Emily Prentiss Whump

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily yawns as she pours two cups of coffee, the smell alone enough to push away the final remnants of sleep. She stirs Splenda into the cup intended for her, and is just about to take a sip when her phone rings. She pulls it from her pocket and smiles when she sees Penelope’s name on the screen as expected, her own version of the same call that pulled her and Aaron out of bed only 30 minutes prior. 

“Hi Pen,” she says as she answers, smiling as she feigns ignorance, “Please tell me you’re calling this early just to hear my voice and not because we have a case.”

“I’m sorry to disappoint you peaches, but it is for a case,” Penelope replies, sounding far too awake for the time of day, “Hotch has asked for you all to meet at the jet as soon as you can, it’s scheduled for take off in an hour.” 

Emily smiles as she feels arms wrap around her from behind, large, warm palms that had become a source of comfort to her for months settling on her abdomen as he pulls her backwards. She leans back into him, settling into the embrace she knew she wouldn’t get enough of over the coming days. 

“Typical Hotch,” she replies, more for the sake of Aaron than her friend, her enjoyment in winding him up never-ending, “He doesn’t understand us mere humans need sleep.” She barely covers a laugh as he pulls her even closer in retribution, his lips against her neck as she bats at him. 

“Are you ok, Em?” 

“I’m fine, Pen,” she says, turning her head to narrow her eyes at her boyfriend, “You know how needy Sergio can be first thing in the morning,” Aaron smiles at her and winks. She shakes her head at him, only half listening as Penelope talks about how much she misses Sergio, “Well,” Emily says turning in Aaron’s embrace, leaving her pressed between him and the kitchen counter, “He’ll have to come to stay with you one weekend.” She has to pull the phone away from her ear because of the responding squeal, something that has even Aaron wincing, and she draws the call to a close, “Thanks for the call Pen, speak to you when we’re in the air.” 

As she hangs up she feels Aaron’s hands trail up her back, and she raises an eyebrow at him. His only response is lean down and kiss her, capturing any chastisement before she can say it. She smiles into the kiss and wraps her arms around his neck, letting herself enjoy every moment when it was just the two of them before they had to pretend they weren’t together. 

It had been three months since their first date, and it still made her smile when she thought about how uncharacteristically nervous he seemed when he asked her out. They’d been close since her return from Paris. Aaron didn’t expect anything from her other than her honesty, something that the others never seemed quite ready to bear. He understood what it was to face your monster and come back from it different, to feel changed and yet so desperate to fit back into your old life. A square peg in a round hole. They were building something new together, a life they both fit into, and she knew this was it for both of them. That they loved each other. 

Even though neither of them had said it outloud yet. It didn’t worry her, she didn’t need the words, and she knew they were both a little gunshy after everything life had thrown at them. 

She knew he loved her. It was clear. She could see it in his eyes, the way he’d look at her when it was just them and Jack, as if she was the answer to a question he didn’t know he’d been asking his whole life. She felt the same way about him and for the first time her future seemed mapped out in front of her, everything certain after decades of not knowing what she wanted she now knew. She wanted him. 

“You,” she says, pressing her lips to his again before she pulls away, “are playing a dangerous game Aaron Hotchner.” 

“I can’t help myself,” he replies, kissing her cheek before he reaches past her to pick up the coffee she’d poured for him. She shakes her head at him and hums in response, “We should get going soon.” 

She nods, “You head off and I’ll follow,” she says, smiling at him as he wraps his arms around her, “One day we can drive in together.” 

The secrecy was purely practical at first whilst they figured out all of the details, although she couldn’t deny that she also found some enjoyment in sneaking around with him, but she knew it was time to tell the team. The family they had both found in the most unlikely of places. 

“We’ll tell them when we get back from this case,” he assures her as if reading her mind as he kisses her once more before stepping away from her. He finishes his coffee and places his empty mug in her kitchen sink, “Then we won’t have to hide anymore.” 

She smiles at him, “I like the sound of that.” 

“Me too,” he replies, picking his go bag up from near her front door. She feels words she’s been resisting for weeks now trying to break free. Words she knows will one day be something they exchange whenever they part ways, a greeting and a goodbye of sorts that would never lose its meaning, no matter how much they said it. 

“Aaron,” she says, and he turns back to look at her, his key to her apartment in his hand as their eyes meet. She loses her nerve, a ridiculous need for the words to mean something the first time stopping her, and she smiles, “See you on the jet.” 

He smiles in response, and she can’t help but wonder if he’s seen right through her like he always seemed to, “See you on the jet, sweetheart.” 

___

Aaron clears his throat to cover a smile as Emily walks onto the jet. Their eyes meet as she places her bag in the overhead storage before she takes a seat next to him at the table, the only space left by the team. 

“Nice of you to join us, Prentiss,” he says, maintaining a straight face as she flicks her eyes to him, her hands grasping at the file JJ passes her as she sits down. 

“Sorry, sir,” she replies, purposely pressing her thigh into his for a moment, her scent briefly overwhelming him, “It won’t happen again,” she turns to look at him, her eyebrow raised, “Sergio was being a pest this morning.” 

He smiles at her, a flash of a thing he knows only she will see. The team make small talk as the plane is prepared for take-off, and he can’t help but be distracted by her the entire time, highly aware of her presence in a way, if he was honest with himself, he always had been. He feels like a spectator as she smiles and jokes with their friends, her smile something he could see his future in. 

He was in love with her. It was a type of love that went deep, so much a part of him now he didn’t remember how it felt to not love her. He wanted to tell her. He had done a couple of times when she was asleep, her body pressed up against his, but he always lost his nerve when she was awake. He knew she was the same, that she loved him but struggled to find the words, but they had time. Time to figure it out, to get through the things from their pasts that were holding them both back. 

When they are in the air he pulls the file up on his table, a silent sign to the team that it was time to get started. 

“I don’t know how much Garcia told you when she called,” he says, watching as the rest of the team, Emily included, open their files too, “The local police in Ferndale, California have asked for our assistance with what appears to be a serial murder case.”

“Four women, all fitting the same description, in positions of power in their jobs, killed in the same way,” Dave says, sighing, “That’s a lot for a town with a population of less than 2,000.” 

“Exactly,” Aaron replies, “That’s why we’ve been called in. They don’t have the resources for one murder let alone four, and the similarities between the victims were enough to convince the Section Chief we were needed.” 

Emily hums and flicks onto the next screen on her tablet, “All women in their late 30s or early 40s, all…” She drifts off as she’s confronted with the images of the driving licence of the victims. They were all brunettes with dark eyes and striking features. All of them tall, or at least tall for a woman, and seemingly single. They all looked like her. She clears her throat and looks up at JJ who was sitting opposite her, and it was only the expectant look on her face that makes Emily realise she’d stopped midway through a sentence, “All similar looking.” 

“Clearly this guy has a type,” Derek adds, blowing out a breath, “They must remind him of someone.” 

“His mother or a girlfriend,” Spencer says, flipping through his paper files, “It’s the most common replacement that killers of this type are looking for. The career choices of these women seem to be important too, we have a doctor, a lawyer, the principal of the local high school and a cop.” 

“The police officer is different, Officer Taylor,” Aaron says, frowning, his eyes lingering on the pictures of the victims, the similarity to the woman he loved making his stomach churn, “She was new, a beat cop, who hadn’t had the chance to climb the ranks like the other victims.” 

“He still took a trophy though as he did with the others,” Derek says, “Her police badge.” 

“Maybe that one was personal?” JJ offers, “She was known to him maybe?”

Aaron nods, “That’s a good place to start,” he says, “When we land JJ you go speak to Officer Taylor’s family and see if there is any information that can be gained from that, the rest of us will go straight to the precinct and set up.” 

He looks back at the victim's pictures, the way they’d been left in the street like they were nothing, their humanity stripped from them, and his heart feels like it is in his throat. He only has to close his eyes to be able to picture Emily in the same way, memories of what he’d seen in Boston twisting together with the images in front of him to bring his worst fears back to life. 

He’d already lost one woman he loved, he refused to do it again. 

He turns to Emily and hopes he sounds more sure than he feels, “I want you partnered with me on this one Prentiss,” he says, watching as her eyes flash with confusion as she looks towards Derek, “Derek can be with Dave.” 

Her tongue peeks out to lick at her bottom lip, and she swallows down fury she knows isn’t fair. They all would have seen it, the way she fit the victim's profile, and she knew all he would want to do was protect her, no matter how misguided that might be. 

“Aa…Hotch there's no need-” She catches her use of his first name fast enough that she hopes the others don’t notice, but he cuts over her before she can finish.

“It’s not up for debate.” 

He stares at her, and a flash of him, of her Aaron, peeks through from behind the Hotch mask, and she sighs, “Of course, sir.” 

She meets Derek’s eyes and he furrows his brows at her and she shakes her head, asking him silently to drop what she was sure would be further questioning. She hopes they can resolve this case quickly, and that the heavy feeling in her stomach was nothing more than misplaced caution. 

___

For two days it feels like they are getting nowhere. 

Despite it being a small town, the victims don’t know each other. Two of them had gone to high school together but were barely acquaintances, and one had moved to town when she married her, distraught, husband. Officer Tayor was still an outlier, a choice from the unsub that made little sense beyond the fact she matched the physical description of the other victims. 

Her partner, Officer Johnson, said she was a good cop. Kind. That she’d go the extra mile for the people of their town and those she tried to help. 

It didn’t make sense, and everyone was getting frustrated. 

“How are we ever going to catch this guy,” Emily asks, rubbing her hands over her face as she looks at the crime scene photos again, still internally grimacing as she looked at the women who could be mistaken for a relative of hers, “Nothing about this makes sense.” 

“I have an idea,” Dave says, sighing, “But I don’t like it.” 

Aaron turns from where he’d been looking at the board they’d pulled together and he looks at the older man, “What is it, Dave?” 

Dave stands up, his hands in his pockets as he paces the room, “We can talk around it as much as we want, but we have someone in this room who fits the victimology perfectly-”

“Absolutely not,” Aaron says, cutting Dave off before he can even say it, his chest tightening at the mere idea of putting Emily in danger. 

“Now, wait a second-” Emily starts, her shackles rising at his dismissal of Dave’s idea, and she doesn’t know if Aaron is reacting as her boyfriend or her boss. 

“We are not using you as bait, Emily,” he says, her first name slipping out as he looks at her. If the others think it’s odd they don’t say anything, all of their emotions high after a couple of days of no progress. 

“It’s not like she hasn’t done it before,” Derek says, an attempt to reason with Aaron that falls short when his words register in his head at the same time as everyone else's. Emily looks at him, her eyes flashing with hurt and he curses under his breath, “Shit, Em that’s not-”

“I’m not saying we put her out here in a short dress with a flashing light over her head that says ‘free to kidnap,’” Dave says, his own irritation clear, “But if we let her take the lead with the press, put her face on the local news as the Federal Agent who is going to take this guy down we might draw him out.” 

“I said no,” Aaron says as if Dave hadn’t spoken, “We need another plan. Not that one.”

“Now hang on-”  Emily chimes in, frowning at him, but he cuts her off again. 

“I said no,” he repeats, shouting at her in a way that gains the attention of the officers on the other side of the glass partition. He blows out a shaky breath and looks around the room before he walks towards the door with purpose, “Excuse me.” 

The room falls into silence after he leaves, the team slightly shellshocked by how quickly an argument had escalated, and Emily sighs, shaking her head before she follows him out, a half-formed excuse over her shoulder to the team as she goes. 

She finds him quickly, well aware of how his brain works, and she walks into the supply closet he’d shut himself into. She pulls the door closed behind her before she turns to look at him. She studies him, sees the tension in his shoulders as his eyes are fixed on her floor, and she presses her lips into a tight line.

“Are you ok?” She asks her concern for him, her love for him, overriding anything else, even her irritation. He nods in response and she rolls her eyes, “Aaron.” 

He looks up at her and nods again, “Yeah. I will be I just need a minute.” 

They fall into a brief silence and she crosses her arms over her chest and looks him up and down, choosing her words carefully so she doesn’t start a fight with him in the supply closet of a small town police precinct.

“Would you…” she sighs, biting the inside of her cheek, “Would you be this resistant to Dave’s idea if we weren’t together?” 

The question feels like a kick to the gut and he puts his hands on his hips as he considers his answer. He knows he’s reacting emotionally, that he’s allowing how he feels for her to cloud his judgement, but he knows it's not because they are together. He wouldn’t risk any of them at this stage yet, not when so many things were still unclear. 

“We don’t have enough information,” he replies, staring at her, “If there was someone out there going after people who looked like Dave I wouldn’t put him in that position yet.” 

There’s a moment of silence and then she laughs, and he can’t help but join in, the noise a siren sound to him. “Well,” she replies, “mores the pity,” they settle down and smile at each other, the small gap between them feeling like miles. She reaches out and links her fingers through his, squeezing his hand before she lets go, well aware anyone could come along at any moment, “I’m ok, Aaron. And once we have the profile-”

“Once we have the full profile we will reassess,” he says, clearing his throat, “I will reassess.” 

She nods and smiles at him, “Thank you,” she places her hand on his arm, “Everything will be ok.”

He nods and she leaves, giving him a moment alone, and he just hopes she’s right. 

___

It’s dark when she steps outside for some fresh air, her mind as worn out as her body was. The lack of sleep from working ungodly hours on this case getting to her. She blows out a steady breath as the cool air hits her, refreshing in a way it rarely felt in the city. She leans against the alley wall behind the precinct, and she looks up to look at the stars, wishing she’d brought her phone with her so she could pull out the constellation app Aaron had made her download on one of their recent dates to check what she should be looking for. 

She loses track of time a little as she looks at the stars, and idly thinks about making sure her, Aaron and Jack went somewhere soon where you could see them like this. She turns to head back inside and walks straight into somebody, everything in their hands flying across the alley floor. She looks up and sees it’s Officer Johnson, his eyes wide as if he hadn’t anticipated anyone to be out here. 

“Oh shit, sorry,” she says, bending down to help him pick up what he’d dropped.

“No need to help Agent Prentiss,” he says, an edge of panic to his voice, “I’ve got it.” 

“Don’t be silly,” she assures him, “It’s my fault,” she picks up a police badge, frowning as she looks at the number, “091220,” she says, “Isn’t that Officer Taylor’s badge number?” She starts to stand up straight, “I thought the unsub-”

She’s cut off by the click of the safety of a gun being turned off, and she looks up to find Officer Johnson pointing a gun at her, “I told you, I didn’t need help.” She reaches for her gun but he shakes his head, his finger sneaking closer to the trigger, “No, I don’t think so,” he says, “You’re coming with me.” 

“You should think about this carefully,” she says, putting her hands up, wishing beyond anything that she had her phone, or that someone from the team would come looking for her, “I’m a Federal Agent, this won’t end well for you.” 

“I think that ship has sailed,” he says, his nervousness giving way to something more chilling, an emptiness to his eyes she couldn’t have expected even moments ago, “Now give me your gun, and come with me.” 

She considers going for her gun anyway, her fingers twitch in the air. She was fast, she knew that, but Officer Johnson’s finger was too close to the trigger. There’s a part of her that knows that before Aaron she would have risked it, she would have taken the chance that she could at least disarm him, even if she got shot in the process, but she can’t do it. She can’t risk hurting him by putting her own life on the line unnecessarily. 

Johnson makes the decision for her anyway and pistol whips her, the pain sharp against her temple as it reverberates around her head, making her dizzy as he turns her, his spare hand pulling her gun from its holster and dropping it to the floor before he twists her arm behind her back. He presses the gun into the back of her neck and she shivers as he leans in close, his breath on her neck.

“Now, walk.”

___

JJ finds her gun. 

She steps outside to call Will so she can say goodnight to Henry and she spots it on the ground, the barrel catching the low light of the street lamps. 

Aaron feels time slow down when it dawns on them what it means, memories he’d rather forget from just before he had to bury Emily flooding back as they realise she is missing. He yells at the lead detective when he tells him the CCTV camera over the alley is broken and had been for weeks, the one chance at a half-decent lead dead before it even really had any life. He feels on edge and useless, everything he had never told her, always sure they’d have more time, haunting him. Regrets he swore he would never allow himself to live through again after Haley died threatening to drown him. 

He paces the conference room, his senses overwhelmed as the local cops mobilise, a missing Federal Agent the thing they had seemingly needed to light the fire under them. Despite how quickly he can see them working it doesn’t seem like enough, their urgency not matching with his. To them, all they could see were the potential headlines - that the FBI came to help and got caught in the crossfire. They didn’t care about Emily as he did. 

They didn’t love her. 

They didn’t know how she took her coffee, or how she liked to snuggle at night, something she had sworn him to secrecy over. They didn’t know she cried at the kid's movies she watched with Jack, or that, despite their jobs, gory movies made her cringe. 

He can feel all the love he has for her bubbling up as anger, spilling out from him as he grunts in frustration. 

“They aren’t working fast enough.” 

“They are doing the best they can, Hotch,” JJ tries to reason with him, “We decided we’d stay here in case the kidnapper called.” 

“It’s not good enough,” he shouts, his voice a roar that carries out into the main bullpen. He shakes his head and clears his throat, “It’s just not good enough.” 

“Hotch,” Derek says, trying to keep his cool, “You need to calm down. The last time I saw you like this…” he drifts off and Aaron sighs as he watches the final pieces click into place on the other man’s face, and he shakes his head, “Damn it.” 

Spencer frowns, his confusion clear as it briefly takes over his concern, “What's happening? The last time you saw Hotch like what?” 

Derek crosses his arms, his jaw tight as he locks eyes with Aaron, “The last time he was this het up was when Foyet had Haley.” Aaron clenches his fists at the comparison, at the mention of his ex-wife's name, and he shakes his head. 

“But that doesn’t make sense,” Spencer says, “They-”

“Emily and Hotch are together,” Dave cuts over him, as he looks at Aaron, “How long?”

Aaron sighs, “It’s not important right no-”

“How long?” Derek all but demands, his fury rising and Aaron feels his matching in tempo, their emotions rising as all too familiar feelings of fear for Emily’s safety take hold. 

“Three months,” Aaron answers, swallowing thickly, pushing down bile that attempts to rise at the thought of that being all the time he ever got with her, “We’ve been together for three months.”

JJ chokes out a laugh, “Pen kept saying she thought Em was with someone, but we had no idea it was you.” 

Derek shakes his head, “Why is it whenever she goes missing we find out she’s been fucking someone she shouldn’t be?” 

The room falls into silence, Derek’s fury suffocating everything else in the room. Aaron feels frozen on the spot, weighed down by anger that greets him like an old friend. He clenches his fists and turns to look at Derek, his jaw so tight he can almost hear Emily joking about the wear on his teeth, her usual quips about buying him a retainer floating around his head. 

“What did you just say?” Aaron asks, turning slowly. Derek seems to realise he’s crossed a line, regret flashing in his eyes, but he doesn’t back down, squaring up to his boss like he couldn’t fire him on the spot. “What did you say?” 

Dave steps in between them, a hand on each of their chests, “This isn’t-”

“What gives you the right-”

“Both of you, shut the fuck up,” Dave shouts, cutting over Derek before he can chastise Aaron, before he can try to make something that is precious to him sound anymore seedy than he already has, “This isn’t helping, and it certainly won’t help us find Emily.” He turns to Aaron, “Go make a coffee and come back,” and he turns to Derek, “Go talk a walk. Get some fresh air and sort your head out.” 

“But-”

Dave presses his hand into his chest a little firmer, “Go take a walk.” 

Derek looks past him again to Aaron, both of their faces stern before they do as instructed. Derek stalks off without looking back, and Aaron turns to head towards the kitchen before Dave stops him.

“Aaron?” 

He turns to look at his friend, furrowing his brow when Dave offers him a half smile, odd and out of place in the otherwise still tense room. 

“What?” 

Dave shakes his head, “It’s about damn time.” 

___

Emily does her best to keep track of where she’s being taken but her head hurts too much to fully concentrate. She knows he’s taken her out of the main part of town, the streets pitch black. 

They come to a stop next to a barn, the building barely discernible against the dark sky. Johnson pulls her out of the car, his hand so tight around her arm that she’s sure it will leave bruises, another brand of violence left behind on her skin by a man just because he could. He drags her inside, and into a back room. He switches on a light that barely illuminates the room, forcing her to squint so she can look around. 

The room is barren, void of anything except walls that seemed to be made from rotting wood and the solitary lightbulb that hung from the ceiling. She spots dark patches on the floor, stains left behind by what she knows is blood if the iron smell lingering in the air was anything to go by. 

“Is this where you brought them?” She asks, saying the first words either of them had spoken since he’d led her towards his car. She turns to look at him, her eyes now adjusted to the low light enough to see that his nervous energy had returned, a clear sign that he had no plan, that he was doing this because she’d accidentally caught him out, not because he had intentions of taking her, “Is this where you brought the others?” 

He stares at her and throws his handcuffs onto the floor, the sound of them scratching across the ground echoing around them.

“Put those on,” he demands, staring at her. She looks at him, her arms crossed over her chest, and he sighs, pointing his gun at her again, “Put them on. And get on the ground.” 

Emily sighs, knowing that she just had to buy enough time for the team to find her. She had no doubt that they would, Johnson was clearly not the mastermind they thought he was and had likely left a trail of breadcrumbs for them to follow. She just had to stay alive long enough for it to mean something.

She had to stay alive long enough to tell Aaron that she loved him, and that meant complying with what Johnson wanted. 

“Ok,” she says, kneeling down on the floor and reaching for the cuffs, securing them around her own wrists, “Did you know any of them? Apart from Officer Taylor,” she asks, looking back up at him, pulling at the cuffs to show they were on properly, “You look about the same age as the first two, did you go to school with them?” 

“They were always stuck-up bitches,” he says, shaking his head, his voice full of venom, “They didn’t even acknowledge me in high school then they went off to college, came back even more up their own asses,” he clenches his fist, his anger visceral and clear, “And that other bitch, she turned me down. Claimed she was happily married but I could tell she wanted me.” 

Her stomach turns at how he refers to the women he killed, like they’d been nothing more of an inconvenience, and fear starts to simmer in her veins, “And Taylor?” 

He shakes his head and scoffs, “She got a little too close. She realised I knew them all. It was only a matter of time.” 

“So you killed her?” 

“She was just like the rest of you,” he shouts, turning to look at her, his hand tight around the handle of his gun, “Full of yourselves. So self-assured, while guys like me just get left behind.”

She swallows thickly, trying to adjust where she was sitting, her knees already aching from pressing into the hard floor, “It isn’t too late to just take me back. We can talk to my boss and-”

“You mean your boyfriend?” 

It shocks her, stunning her into silence for a moment before she regains her composure, “What?” 

“I’ve been watching you,” he says, and it takes everything to maintain her facade, to look unaffected when the way he looks at her makes her want to scrub her skin until it hurts, “I saw the two of you in the supply closet, you looked cosy. You’re always looking at each other.” 

She blows out a breath before she replies, “He’ll find us,” she says, purposely not confirming or denying what he’d said, her voice full of nothing but confidence, “It’s only a matter of time, and it would be better if-”

“Stop telling me what to do,” he shouts, his hand shaking as he points the gun at her, and she nods sharply, closing her mouth firmly. He backs out of the room, his gun still trained on her, “Stay here, otherwise that boyfriend of yours will find your body in the same place they found the others.” 

He slams the door closed, and she hears it lock from the other side. She listens as his footsteps get quieter, indicating he’d walked away, and she shuffles across the floor to lean against the wall, her knees protesting as she straightens her legs out in front of her. 

The team would find her. He would find her.

He had to. ___

None of them sleep. Part of him knows she’d be furious at them all, even though she’d do the same if she was in their position. It would make him laugh, her lack of self-preservation, if it wasn’t the root of his concern.  

By the time the sun rises, he's exhausted, shrugging Dave off as he tries to suggest he goes back to the hotel for a few hours. Her things were in his room, her pjyamas under one of the pillows on his bed. He couldn’t sleep without her, the sound of the soft snoring she always denied was her in the morning his favourite lullaby. 

“It doesn’t make any sense.” 

Spencer’s voice brings Aaron back to the room, his focus sharp once again as he turns in his chair to look at his team, “What doesn’t make sense Reid?” 

Spencer sighs and shakes his head, his eyes still fixed on the case board, “Emily was a spy. She’s well-trained,” he turns to look at the rest of them, “She couldn’t just be taken by anybody.” 

“So you think it’s more than one guy?” Derek asks, his voice void of all of the fight that had been in it earlier.

“Or someone she didn’t think she had to be on alert around,” Dave says, standing up straight, shaking his head as he figures it out, “It’s a goddamn cop.” 

Aaron clears his throat and nods, “That makes sense,” he says, “She would have trusted him, or at least wouldn’t have considered him a threat,” he stands up, with adrenaline he doesn’t expect flooding his body, “What was the name of Officer Taylor’s partner?” 

“Officer Johnson,” Spencer says, his eyes going wide, “I heard one of the other cops saying he called in sick. He came in for less than an hour last night and then left.” 

There’s a moment of silence as the realisation washes over all of them, the air in the room somehow thicker than it had been since they first realised Emily was missing. It’s broken as Derek shakes his head.

“That son of a bitch.” 

It snaps Aaron back into action and he looks at JJ, “Call Garcia, get everything you can on this Officer Johnson. Financials. Property. Assets. I need everything.” 

“Right away, Hotch,” she says, her phone already out of her pocket as she dials the familiar number. 

Aaron feels a hand on his shoulder and turns to find Dave standing behind him, “We’ll get her back Aaron,” he says, squeezing his shoulder, “And then you’ll both have a lot to explain.”

Aaron half-heartedly chuckles, the sound catching in his chest, “Once she’s safe, I’ll tell you everything.” 

Dave raises an eyebrow at him, both of them turning to look at JJ as she says she’s got something, a property on the edge of town, before their eyes meet again, “Everything?” 

“Ok,” Aaron says, reaching for his bulletproof vest, “Maybe not everything.” 

___

He pays no attention to Officer Johnson as Derek kicks the door down and almost simultaneously fires a bullet that disarms him, his gun clattering to the floor as he reaches for the wound in his shoulder. 

All of Aaron’s focus is on Emily as their eyes meet across the mostly dark room, and he releases a breath he’d been holding since he’d last seen her. It had only been a few hours but it had felt like days. 

His knees hit the ground when he reaches her side, the crack of them echoing around them but he doesn’t feel them as he cups her face, tilting it as he looks at the cut on her forehead, making her sigh as he touches her like she’s made of glass.

She feels like she might, her body aching from sitting on the hard floor all night, and her wrists sore from the cuffs. 

“Are you ok?” He asks, an edge of desperation in his voice, and she nods despite the ache in her head and lets him fuss over her, burying her face in his neck as she breathes him in. He moves her head, a hand on each of her cheeks as he rests his forehead against hers. “I love you.” The words escape without him meaning them to, surprising both of them equally as she huffs out a laugh, her breath skipping across his cheek, “Em, I-”

“I love you too,” she replies, closing her eyes as she takes a moment to try and slow down her breathing, basking in the comfort she always found in him, “I love you so much.” She hears someone clearing their throat and she opens her eyes to look past him, her eyes meeting Derek’s. She sees something in them that she doesn’t understand, her head too sore and her brain too tired to try and figure it out, and she pulls back to look at Aaron, “Can you undo my cuffs?” 

He nods, shouting a request for keys from one of the local cops over his shoulder, something he’s given within seconds. He releases the cuffs and it feels like a relief as she stretches out her hands, wincing at how the raw skin of her wrists feels like it’s being pulled apart.

“Do you think you can stand?” He asks as he stands up himself. Her response is a roll of her eyes as she tries to stand up herself, falling straight into his chest as she struggles to get her footing. He wraps his arms tightly around her, holding her to him as she grasps the back of his shirt, “I’ve got you.” 

She smiles at the double meaning, pressing her face into his chest as she breathes him in again. She doesn’t care about the fact the team are watching them, their curiosity making them look over every now and again in a way she hopes they don’t think is subtle, but she doesn’t care. She knew he’d blow their cover the moment he found out she was missing, and all she wants is him. To assure him she was ok, that he’d done what he hadn’t been able to do for Haley.

“Thank you for coming to rescue me,” she whispers, turning her head so only he can hear her, a private moment between the two of them even though they are in a room full of people. He holds her impossibly tighter and kisses the top of her head. 

“Always, sweetheart,” he replies, pulling back to look at her as he tucks some of her hair behind her ear, “Although, let's not make a habit of it.” 

She nods, her smile quickly turning to a frown as he loops one arm around her shoulder and shifts to place the other under her knees, clearly attempting to pick her up. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Carrying you out to the ambulance,” he says as if it was obvious, and she raises her eyebrows at him. 

“Ok, there are two things wrong with that sentence.” 

“Em,” he says firmly, his eyes swimming with desperation as he looks at her, “Please. You can barely stand, you clearly have a head wound and maybe a concussion. Just…let me. Please.” 

She stares at him for a moment before she briefly presses her forehead to his shoulder before she looks at him again, nodding, “Ok,” she says, cupping his cheek so she can stamp a kiss to his lips, “Ok, but if you even think about complaining about your back in the coming days-”

“I won’t,” he says, lifting her up into his arms before she can change her mind. She wraps her arms around his neck and rests her head against his shoulder as he carries her outside. 

Her headache gets worse the moment they step outside, the daylight bright against the pounding inside her skull. She groans and buries her face in his shirt. He heaves her closer, walking past the ambulance with Officer Johnson in with purpose, his jaw tense as he hears him complaining about the pain he was in. 

“I’ve got you,” he says, repeating his words from inside as he kisses the top of her head. She hums into his shirt, her words muffled so he feels them more than he hears them.

“You always do.” 

___

“I’m fine,” she says, groaning as she settles back into the hospital bed she’d been all but forced into, “This is ridiculous.” 

Aaron smiles at her and lifts their joint hands to his lips, kissing her knuckles as he sits in the seat next to her bed, “Sweetheart, you have a concussion,” he says, his eyes soft as they meet hers, “And they said you needed fluids,” his eyes drift to the IV bag hanging on the other side of her bed, “It’s just one night.” 

She scoffs, “I guess,” she looks him up and down, watching how his focus is on the bandages on her wrists, his thumb tracing the edge of one of them. She knows he was blaming himself, as if he’d have been able to stop what had happened even though, in the end, it was simply bad luck that had her taken by the unsub, “If I’m here all night you might as well come join me in this stupid bed.” 

He sighs, his eyes drifting to the bandage on her forehead covering the stitches he’d counted as the doctor did them. The last thing he wanted to do was cause her more pain. 

“Em-”

“Don’t argue with me,” she says, raising an eyebrow at him. “I’m hurt.” 

Aaron chuckles mirthlessly and stands up, knowing it was a lost cause before he even tries to argue with her any further. He kisses the back of her hand once more before he lets it go.

“You play dirty.” 

“You know dirty I can be,” she replies, winking at him, taking delight in his laughter as she sits up, making room for him to slip in behind her in the bed. She sighs as she settles against him, sitting in the cradle of his hips as he wraps his arms around her, careful to make sure he doesn’t disturb her IV. “That’s much better.” 

“You’re definitely comfortable?” He asks, and she nods, resting her hands over his and linking their fingers together. “Sweetheart-”

“If you even think about apologising for something that isn’t your fault, honey, you’ll be in trouble,” she says, tilting her head to look at him, her smile soft as his responding sigh lets her know she was right, “He was devolving anyway, I accidentally caught him trying to throw away his trophies,” she shrugs, “It was bad luck. We would have figured it out regardless.” 

He shakes his head, holding her a little tighter, “I should have protected you.” 

She’s sure that on some level it should make her angry. That the feminist in her should be furious at the idea that she needed protecting, but she knows he doesn’t mean it that way. That his past always lingering just out of sight, a phantom he would never quite escape. Something that she now lived with too because she loved him. 

“I don’t need you to protect me, Aaron,” she says, squeezing his hand, “This is what I need. Right here. Ok?” 

He doesn’t entirely believe her, and he can’t quite shift the guilt that was still burning in his chest. He knows from experience that he’d get used to it, the sting of it fading over time, so he nods, “Ok.” 

She smiles and kisses his jaw, “So,” she says, her eyes flickering with mischief, “If I’d known all it would take was getting kidnapped for you to tell me you love me, I would have done it weeks ago.”

“Em.” 

“What?” She asks, feigning innocence, “Too soon?”

“Far, far too soon,” he replies, shaking his head at her, “It might always be,” he pauses for a moment, swallowing thickly before he continues, voicing the concern that had been bothering him since he said the words to her when he found her, “I mean it, you know. It wasn’t just because I was in the moment. I mean it.” 

“I know,” she assures him, “I mean it too. I love you,” she says for good measure, her smile widening as he beams at her. 

“I love you too,” he replies, releasing one of her hands to cup her cheek, dragging her in for a kiss. He rests his forehead against hers and sighs, “The team are going to be unbearable.” 

She groans, shifting so their noses brush against each other, “Do you think you can threaten them with something to make them stop? At least until my headache has cleared?” 

Aaron chuckles, and nods his forehead gently knocking against hers, “For you, sweetheart? Anything.” 

-x-

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[chemical-killjoy]

Can you write an angsty fic with Thomas Raggi? Like him and the reader are together and fighting about something like Thomas is jealous, or he did something bad (but not cheating something that's lighter) and maybe they don't speak for days and the maneskin members are talking with them separately and they tell that both of them are not doing well and the and is all fluff!!! Thank you so much xx

I'm so sorry it's taken so long!! I've been going through some stuff recently so my writing is even less regular than normal lol. Anyway, thank you for the ask, i hope you like it! :)

Mistakes and Misunderstandings

Thomas Raggi x Reader

Warnings: none.

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: I'm sorry if it's kinda crappy, I haven't really edited as I'm so tired :)

“She was flirting with you!” You cried, watching your boyfriend's exasperation grow with the fight you were currently having.

“That's not my fault!” Thomas screamed back as you stalked out of the kitchen to the living room, hair flying behind you in a wild rage.

It had been a long, tough night, but the kicker was the sight in front of you when you were early to meet your boyfriend after an interview; Thomas, leaning in, laughing, hand on this girl's shoulder, with the interviewer's hand on his thigh. Thomas said something you didn't hear, still smiling, and rubbed then tapped the hand the interviewer had on him, in an attempt to get her hand off without seeming rude.

“No, no you were flirting back,” you replied accusingly, full of venom.

“I can't deal with your jealous bullshit right now,” Thomas said, bringing his hands down from his head fast, putting as much meaning into the gesture as the words.

“Or is it just that you can't deal with me?” you whirled around to face him, voice icy and lowered. “Because you're not denying flirting with her.”

“You know that's not what I'm saying.” Thomas replied, equally icy in tone.

“Then what are you saying?”

“Don't do this.” Thomas said softly.

“Right. 'Course. You know, I've had enough,” You said, grabbing your handbag. “Come find me when you know what you wanna say.”

The door was slammed shut.

It had been a few days since you and the guitarist had spoken to each other, too caught up in your own feelings to stop and consider the truth: that you were just scared to lose each other.

You sighed once more, swirling the spoon in your steaming mocha.

Vic groaned.

“Ugh, come on!” Vic groaned, dramatically rolling her eyes at you. “It has been days since you spoke to him! Why can't you just say, 'hey, I still love you, asshole' and break the ice already?”

“Because he needs to apologise first! He was basically cheating on me, Vic!”

“Honey, don't you think you're being just a little bit jealous?” Vic asked, one eyebrow raised.

Your face flushed as you turned away from your best friend. “No.” You grumbled into your shoulder.

“I'm sorry, what was that?” She leaned closer.

“OK, OK, fine! So maybe I got jealous. Maybe I got worried because some sexy interviewer had her hand on my boyfriend's thigh. Maybe I get worried that I'm not exciting enough and he'll get bored of me. Maybe I get worried that he'll rock and roll himself away from me.”

Vic snorted at your only semi-intentional pun.

“I'm serious!” you said, though giggled a little too. “He could have anyone, they just throw themselves at him. And he wasn't stopping her.”

“How do you know know that.” Vic asked gently.

“He put his hand on hers.”

“And then?”

You opened and closed your mouth multiple times, a fish out of water.

“And then I walked away! He rubbed her hand and patted it and I couldn't bare it anymore! I- I couldn't stand the thought of seeing if he kissed her.”

“You know he would never do that.” Vic shook her head.

“Then why didn't he say so?” You looked up at her with pleading eyes.

“Because maybe he was scared you wouldn't believe him, and he doesn't want to lose you either.”

You didn't know it, but half an hour away Thomas and Damiano were having a very similar conversation.

“What if it's all too much for her? I can't control other people's actions, but I don't want to get mad at interviewers and damage our band.”

“Thomas. Amore mio,” Damiano wiggled his eyebrows, earning him a small chuckle, “If somebody is doing something inappropriate and you are uncomfortable, you can tell them to fuck off. Go to hell. Whatever you want. The fans aren't going to leave because you stood up for yourself.”

“What about Y/N? How do I know she'll believe me?”

“Trust,” Damiano emphasised the word with a jut of his chin, then held Thomas' head in both hands and looked him deep in the eyes. “You love her, yes?”

Thomas nodded.

“And she loves you, no?”

Another nod.

“Then you have to trust that she'll believe you. She's probably just scared of losing you.”

“What if I'm the one that's scared of losing her? Being too much? I know she gets jealous, she's been hurt before.” Thomas looked away from Damiano.

“If it's love, you'll never be too much. And she'll never be too little. Now,” Damiano gave a gentle slap to Thomas' shoulder, “grow some balls and talk to her! This silence is silly.”

“You're right. Even if I stay mad, I shouldn't stay silent.” You told Vic, pulling out your phone. Just as you did, it buzzed.

Thomas.

Speak of the devil! Your face lit up.

“Oh that was so Thomas, huh?” Vic questioned. You didn't respond, reading the text too fast.

I'm sorry I hurt you, Y/N. Will you see me and let me explain? Xx

Of course, you write back.

The next day, Thomas was at your house, with your favourite chocolate and flowers.

“Thomas!” You gasped, seeing the arrangement. “Thank you,” you said, hugging him with such force he jolted.

“It's just some flowers and chocolate, Y/N/N.” Thomas said with a small laugh.

“Yeah, but also thank you for texting first. Sorry, I shouldn't have given you the silent treatment, it was childish.” You said, guilty face and red cheeks.

“Takes two, my love. I'm sorry too.” Thomas walked inside, and turned around. “There's something I want to tell you.” He had your full attention.

“Yes?” You replied too fast, full of hope.

“I love you. You know that. And I will never tire of you. I will never replace you, nor could I even think of it. Just thinking about your smile makes me smile! I swear, you'll never lose me.... That is, if you'll still have me?” You opened your mouth to talk but he kept on rambling. “And nothing happened, with me and... the reporter,” Thomas said, forgetting her name. “Frankly, I was getting uncomfortable, and ended up faking another appointment to get away from her.”

“Oh honey, why didn't you tell me?” you asked, with a surprised laugh.

“Because I was scared you wouldn't believe me.”

“I'm so sorry, I never meant for you to feel like that. I will always believe you. I trust you with my whole heart. I love you. And you won't get rid of me so easily,” you pulled a face, “even if I get a bit pissy.”

With a small laugh, Thomas draw you in by the waist, and looked at you lovingly before brushing a small lock of hair from behind your face.

“There you are, my light.” And with that his lips met yours, and all was as it should be.

Taglist: @fandomfoodiedancer @smiling-girl @niche-bitch @fedorable-killjoys @charlie-rulerofhell as always please let me know if you want to be on or off the taglist!

[friendball-irl]

[...]

[......]

[.........]

[CONNECTION REESTABLISHED]

"Hello, Rotumblr~! I'm ba-ack~! Here, let me turn on this camera..."

"There we go~! Now isn't that better? Don't I look great? I think the eye color change is my favorite part! The visible aura is also a nice touch."

"Sorry for disappearing yesterday, but I'm feeling SO much better, so I can't really feel bad about it, hehe!"

"Now, before I get into anything else, I first want to thank two individuals! Without them, I wouldn't be here in the first place!"

"The first is my new compatriot, Zagreus the Togetorpor! He's a neat Shadow-exclusive evolution of Togetic, would you believe it? Little guy has the signature move Shadow Blessing! Can close a person's heart just like that! It's great! I would have been screwed without him."

"And second, I owe part of this success to my dear old ex-friend Victoria Gonzap! I wouldn't have ever thought to try something like this if I hadn't seen how HAPPY she is with her life! I mean, she's strong, she's fearless, and she even survived getting killed! I mean, who does that?! Big inspiration for this, so I tip my hat to you Vic! Sorry for ruining our friendship, but I guess I can't really feel that kind of thing anymore, so neither of us lose anything!"

"Oh, and take a look at Andi! Doesn't she look beautiful~?"

[The camera turns to Andi, but she's... wrong. She's obviously been turned into a Shadow, but her colors are completely gone, leaving her monochrome. She turns to the camera and lets out a bloodcurdling screech before the camera turns back to Gray.]

"She looks so cool now! I think I'll call it... Eclipse Form! Yeah! That sounds right!"

"Now, I'm certain you're wondering! 'Gray! What're you gonna do now?' Well, I'm gonna tell ya!"

"The way that Shadow Blessing works is that it's gotta be consensual. Can't force someone into doing this! But it's so NICE being like this! Why would I want to keep this feeling all to myself???"

"So I'm coming back to Unova! But obviously I'm not gonna go home, no no! I'm gonna set up shop in the Dreamyard! It'll be my own little sanctuary to help people close up their pesky hearts! Free of charge, of course! It's a little charity!"

"But I know some people aren't going to like that very much, or they're going to want me to come back! That's going to be a problem! Well, let me tell you this..."

"I'll be waiting for you. And I won't go down without a fight. =)"

"That's all I have to say! I hope you all have a nice night! Or not! Hell if I care anymore! Teehee! Hehehehe! HehehehehehahahahahAHAHAHAHAH-"

CONNECTION TERMINATED]

Final Tarot Drawn: "Death"

Tarot Arc End

Apathy Arc Start

[valpogossip]

VALPOGOSSIP TEACAP: APRIL 2024

You lot sure have be busy the last month. If I was of lesser mind or simply someone with something better to do, I would have resigned myself to my silence and let you all carry on. But business pays. And unfortunately for you, it's yours that pays me, and you're all not going to believe this.

It's always the ones in the most denial that scream the loudest and Abril is a banshee. While at La Fiesta De Vindimia, Abril confronted our favorite blonde bombshell, Mallory Jade, about song she assumed was about her. Now theres something about a fight over a song like Pretty Girls ending in a kiss that just doesn't feel all that... straight to me. But Abril was quick to prove all of us wrong by locking in with Giovanni !

Speaking of Giovanni, the timing of this is quite suspicious considering he had a bit of his own meet-not-so-cute with a Yazmin. The two getting off on the wrong food but helping each other find the right one another and getting all cozy enough to take a nap outside. I don't about you all, but I don't think i've ever been that comfortable. Wonder with Yazmin thinks of this. Or Abril for that matter.

We could also ask Aivryn for her opinion on the matter considering how upset she was when Abril's new beau launched to the world to see. Apparently, even as her best friend, Aivryn found out at the same time everyone else did. I can't help but wonder why that is.

In more confusing but entertaining news, Omar and Dante are going on a date to decide which one gets to take which...one... on a... date ? I think I'm reading that correctly. Yes, bowling date. Loser takes other on date. No, yeah that's right. Well, whatever love looks like for you. Whenever there's a Dominguez-Herrera involved we're sure it'll be healthy and sane.

Maybe it's the bowling date nerves that led Dante to break Drew's nose? We hope that's healing up just fine.

Every month we hope Alba will stand up, and this month they came really close ! It was much of a hunch, but hey we'll take it. After a cold war, Milani raised the first white flag but all it took was one. You'll get there Al, we believe in you !

The festival seemed to be a hub for rekindling kisses, as Arlo and Esme were spotted liplocked on one of the benches. Sad thing about Leia bearing eye witness. Has anyone checked on her? What is it about good wine that makes you want to relive the past? Maybe they can go on a double date with Mallory and Abril and relive the past together.

Speaking of rekindling, but this time no kisses, exes Elijah and Sariyah, and Luna and Enzo were both spotted with frowns on their faces and eyes that were looking everywhere but each other. What conversation has you guys that deep in thought? Maybe you should take a drive, we here that helps.

If you're looking for a palette cleanser from all the mess, look no further than Jasper and Hunter. Gentle conversations and cutely planned dates. We wish them nothing but the best and maybe they could teach our many ( many ) confused couples a thing or two.

We hope that's enough to hold you over until next month. And if I missed anything, don't hesitate to send in a little tip to us via our anon box.

Here's some things we're keeping a close eye on for next month:

Ysla and Adem seem to be getting extremely close to little Emmie. Is it all just for her benefit? Astrid and Kaito already have the perfect starter for next month's tea cap, I wonder what else they'll get up to. What's the history there? How is Sariyah involved? Why does vic hate birthdays so much and why does esme suddenly care so much about his? Ximena and Bryce seem to also be spending a lot more time together. Aksel and Sarah's dinner table keeps getting bigger and bigger whole Luna's looks to be getting smaller, why is that? Will Drew ever get his double date? Is Luna like... okay?

If you didn't make this rounds teacap don't worry, we're still watching closely.

[fallingblueroses]

This is my third attempt at posting this. I keep deleting it before I post.

This is a first draft of the scene from my VoicePlay fic on Ao3 where Geoff rescues Cesar. Geoff's original kill count by the end of the fic was going to stand at 9, but as the story went on I felt it was more "in character" for him to not have a trail of bodies behind him.

Also, in the first drafts Ir'sia was posing as a government-employed vampire hunter and employed humans to do her dirty work for her. They managed to get Kathy, William, Layne, and Eli before Geoff knew something was wrong. He's understandably furious as he goes to intercept Cesar.

***

Cesar tried to keep himself calm as the car went on, but that was hard to do with the gun pressing into his right side. The guy on his left was fidgeting constantly and kept looking out the windows, which added to his own nervousness.

And the driver's too, apparently. "Will you calm down?"

The nervous guy frowned. "I keep thinking we're being watched."

"You're paranoid," the guy with the gun said. "No one even knows the kid's missing yet. And he ain't gonna give us any trouble." The gun dug into Cesar's ribs. "Are you?"

"No," Cesar growled.

"Good boy." He looked over at his nervous friend. "Now calm your ass."

The driver sighed. "I'm gonna cut through the back streets. Get out of this traffic." The car made a right turn, and began to go down an alley. A few streets later they were cut off when a white van pulled to a stop in front of them. The driver slammed on his brakes and laid on the horn--

Geoff popped out of the van, landed on the car's hood and punched through the windshield. The glass was still cracking when Geoff grabbed the driver and bashed his head against the steering wheel before turning his attention to the shotgun seat. The gun in Cesar's ribs turned toward Geoff, and Cesar punched the gunman in the face with his bound hands as the nervous man bailed out.

The sound of breaking bone came to Cesar's ears as the man riding shotgun slumped over. A second later the door behind the gunman was literally ripped from its hinges and Geoff pulled the man out of his seat with enough force to break the seatbelt. Cesar heard the man's skull crack as Geoff bashed his head against the pavement, and when he looked out of the car blood was already starting to run over the ground. Geoff looked up at Cesar. "You okay?"

"Sure." He looked at Geoff's bloodstained hands as he reached in the car and examined the cuffs on Cesar's wrists. "What's going on?"

"Someone wants my attention." Geoff grabbed the chain with both hands and pulled, and Cesar jumped when the metal snapped. "Get in the van and drive. I'll catch up."

"Where are you going?"

"After the last guy."

Cesar shook his head. "He's long gone."

Geoff smiled. "I have his scent. Now get going."

"Wha--" Cesar blinked as he realized Geoff was already gone. He barely caught a glimpse of his friend as he rounded the corner in a blur.

He got in the still-running van and began to drive as Geoff had told him. After a few blocks he had to pull into a parking lot to gather his nerves. He rested his head against the steering wheel and took several long, deep breaths.

I don't know what's going on, but God, I hope I wake up soon.

***

Layne looked up from where he was sitting as he heard a phone ring. The elderly man pulled a phone from his pocket and answered it. "Yes?"

The man on the other end screamed so loudly that Layne could hear him clearly. "You son of a bitch!" The other captors turned to look toward the elder as the screaming continued. "You lied to us! You said those charms would protect us!"

Brownbeard took the phone from the elderly man and put it on speaker. "Todd. Is that you? What happened?"

"Castellucci happened! He killed them! He killed them!" The man--Todd--gasped for breath. "He impaled Jon on the steering wheel! He snapped Vic's neck!"

Layne couldn't help but smile, and when he looked at Eli the smaller man was grinning as well. Looks like this round went to the good guys.

Then it hit him.

Geoff had just killed two people.

Their captors looked uneasy--except for Blondie, Layne noticed. She looked...pleased.

"What about James?"

"He was fighting with the kid. I got the hell out of there."

"Coward," Blondie said in a low voice.

"Come back to the warehouse," the elderly man ordered.

"Oh fuck no. You can keep your money. I'm not going anywhere near--" The voice cut off for a few seconds.

"Todd?" The captor asked.

"No," Todd gasped in utter terror. There was a clatter as if the phone had hit the ground, and Todd's voice receded. "No. Please, no. We weren't going to hurt the kid!"

Geoff's voice was a low, angry rumble. "Where are they."

"Wha--what?"

"Where are they?! My wife! My child! My friends! Where are they! Who has them! Tell me now!"

Todd's voice became high, hysterical. "Please! I don't want to die!" He screamed, but it became muffled as if a hand had been clamped over Todd's mouth.

Geoff's tone was blood-chilling when he spoke next. "You had your chance to confess. Now, I'll find out for myself." Then quiet.

The man with the phone frowned. "What's happening?"

"He's likely drinking," Blondie said, that pleased smirk still on her face. She took the phone. "He'll find out everything he wants to know from the blood."

The other captors' uneasiness increased, and Layne's stomach began to feel queasy. Drinking. He could imagine it easily.

Brownbeard finally looked at the others. "That's it. I'm out."

The elderly man frowned. "You can't quit now."

"I'm not giving my life to save yours. You said those crosses would protect us--"

"And I told you," Blondie said, "that those crosses wouldn't help. Castellucci's older than Christianity. Those symbols mean nothing to him." She looked at Brownbeard. "If you want to save your life, you'll see this through. Now he knows everything Todd knew. He knows where we are. And he's going to come for what's his and you've already heard he's willing to kill for it. Your only hope of survival is to help me capture him."

Layne wondered at her tone. There was a seriousness about it, but also a satisfaction. As if she'd planned for all this and everything was going exactly as she wanted.

But Eli had caught something else. "Hold it. You're seriously standing there and telling us that Geoff is more than two thousand years old?"

Blondie looked over. "Of course not. He's over seven thousand years old.

"Oh sure," Eli said sarcastically. "Of course. After all, there's nothing a guy who's lived for seven thousand years wants to do more than settle down, start a family, join an acapella group, post videos to social media. Makes perfect sense!"

"Those things feed his vampiric need for love and adoration."

"Those sound like very human needs to me," Layne said.

Blondie opened her mouth, but then Geoff's voice came over the phone. "I assume you're still listening."

"Of course we are, Av'osk," Blondie said.

Silence. When Geoff spoke next, his voice was like icicles being stabbed into Layne's stomach. "Ir'sia."

"Yes, Av'osk, it's me. It's been a long time."

"If you have harmed so much as a hair on their heads--"

"Calm yourself, Av'osk. Your humans are safe. And they will not be harmed as long as you come and surrender yourself to me."

"I'm coming," he growled. "And this time, I swear on whatever soul I have that I'll make sure you're dead!"

[austinsgirl]

Rather Die | Chapter 14

rating: pg-13, language

warnings: talk of pregnancy

word count: 2047

cross posted on wattpad

masterlist

——————————————————————

Two months later...

Victoria is now about 16 weeks pregnant, about equivalent 4 months.

Austin has gone with her to every checkup. Ashton goes when he can, which isn't often, as he's in crunch time for the new album with his band.

Vic & Austin have been getting along quite well for the baby's sake. Victoria gets urges to fight, or get snarky, but she holds back.

Austin on the other hand, hasn't been wanting to fight at all. In fact, he's been wanting to hold her hand, give her sweet kisses, and all of that mushy gushy stuff, but he knows it's not his place to do that.

They've agreed in a couple of months, Victoria will move in with Austin, making the final months of the pregnancy & the co-parenting easier on them.

Rumors have been speculating that they are a couple, as they're seen together quite often out & about. Thankfully, no one has seen them at the gynecologist office to speculate the pregnancy rumors.

The two don't know when they'll decide to tell the world on what's going on, but eventually they will have to, as Victoria can't hide behind baggy t-shirts & hoodies forever.

The dating rumors are a reason why they both got called into the production office today to speak with Sarah & Anna.

They all gathered in a conference room.

"So, a couple of reasons why we asked you both here today." Sarah speaks. "The film is currently in the first editing stages. There is an argument scene that had some missed marks and the lighting ended up being off a bit. So, we'll need to re-shoot that, and we'll schedule that here in a bit. Now, obviously, you guys have been seen quite a bit recently. Are you two friends now? Are you more than that? What's going on with you guys?"

Austin & Vic both look at each other, realizing that their producer and director are not in the loop of what's been happening since filming ended.

Victoria nervously laughs before speaking up, "Um, funny you should ask that. We um, we're having a baby."

Anna almost does a spit take. Both of them are in complete shock.

"You're what now?" Anna asks.

"Yep. I'm pregnant." Victoria rounds out her little belly over her baggy tee. "And, I decided to keep it as this could be my only chance to conceive with my reproductive issues."

"Now....how did this happen? Are you two?" Sarah asks, insinuating that they're dating.

"Oh! No, no. We're not dating." Austin says.

"We um, got into a heated argument near end of filming that lead to us, uh.."

"Hooking up." Austin cuts off Vic.

"Yeah. That." Vic says.

"Well...alright then. So, when are you guys planning to tell the media?" Anna asks.

Austin speaks up, "Um, were not totally sure.  My PR manager, Kate, she suggests we do it soon before Victoria isn't able to hide it anymore. Don't know exactly what we'll tell them as we're not together but..."

"Okay. Well, that's one thing we did want to get clarified from you guys, was the relationship status." Sarah speaks. "I'm sure you're well aware of the media thinking you two are an item."

"Yes, we're aware." Victoria answers. "We're also aware of the cheating rumors because people know from mine & Ashton's Instagrams that we're together, but then I'm seen out with Austin more than my own boyfriend."

"Okay. So you two, not a thing. But you & Ashton, very much a thing." Sarah says.

"Yes, that is correct."

"And Eliana?" Anna asks, nervously.

"Oh, noooo. She's way out of the picture." Austin answers.

"Good, good. So, you're single, Austin?"

"Yes."

"Hmm okay." Sarah says thinking. "We really like seeing you both out and about. You know, it's good for the film. We we're hoping that maybe you two we're an item so we didn't have to do a PR stunt but, now knowing the whole situation, I still don't want to do that if there's cheating rumors involved."

"I get that it's good press, but yeah. I really don't want to deal with the cheating rumors. And having that will just give me a bad rep for my first film." Vic says.

"Exactly. So, maybe you two should put out a statement ASAP before the media takes it too far with the rumors?" Anna suggests.

Austin says, "Well, I don't really use social media, like at all. Maybe Victoria can make one for the both of us?"

"That would work. I mean, if you both did it, that would be best. Talk it over with your PR managers and make a plan, then have them get in touch with us. Sorry this meeting was so last minute and neither of them could make it in." Sarah says.

"Oh, no worries. We we're headed out this way anyways. My gynecologist is just a few minutes from here. We find out the gender today." Victoria says.

"Oh, that's so exciting! Anna exclaims. "What are you hoping for or what do you think you're having?"

"I personally don't care either way, but I think it's a boy. Austin doesn't really care either, but he wants a girl and thinks it's a girl."

"You'll have to let us know! Well, congratulations to the both of you." Anna says.

Victoria & Austin both say thank you.

"What does Ashton think of all this? Just wondering." Sarah asks.

"Um, he's really supportive. He's been by my side through all of it so far, except he's missed some appointments, as he's been really busy with his band. He's only going to get busier unfortunately."

"I'm glad he stuck by you, though. Most men would have ditched." Anna mentions.

"Thanks, I am too." Vic smiles

Austin lowkey rolls his eyes. He hasn't been the fondest of Ashton lately. Not just because he's jealous of their relationship, but also because he hasn't been putting in a whole ton of effort into being a part of the pregnancy.

Ashton will know when the appointments are, and yet doesn't schedule his recording sessions around them. It upsets Victoria every time Ashton has something to do with his band. Especially this time around with finding out the gender.

Austin hates seeing Victoria upset. She'll say it's fine, but Austin knows deep down it's not.

Victoria gets that Ashton gets busy, but she's starting to feel less important lately. She tries to play it cool, but she knows in her gut, that it's bothering her.

"Okay, so. When are you two free to do the re-shoot?" Anna asks.

"Um, I think we're both pretty open right now. Right, Vic?" Austin asks her.

"Yeah, I was looking into more roles, but then here comes along baby, so I stopped looking for now."

"Perfect." Anna says. "How about next Friday? So a week from today."

"Sounds perfect. What are we going to do about me showing? Obviously, Allison isn't pregnant in the movie." Victoria asks, curiously.

"Well, since you only wore that outfit once for this scene, we'll just change the outfit to something like you're wearing now or we'll hide your lower half behind something."

"Okay, that works."

"Alrighty, then. I think that's it." Sarah says. "Let us know what plan you guys come up with. I'd really hate for you to get all the bad press for cheating allegations."

Victoria responds, "I would hate that too. I really don't need that. We'll get in touch with them & they'll get in touch with you."

"Sounds like a plan. And let us know about the gender! Congratulations to you guys again." Anna says.

Austin responds, "Thank you. We'll definitely let you know."

Everyone says their goodbyes & Austin and Vic are headed off to their appointment.

As Austin & Vic step out of the building, they get bombarded by paparazzi. Sure, they've been papped before, but they've never been right in their faces.

"Are you two an item now?!"

"Where's Ashton?!"

"Are you cheating?!"

So many questions, the both of them chose to ignore.

Once they're safe in the car,

"We really do need to make a statement ASAP." Victoria says. "If they're going to be getting in our space and asking us questions directly, it's only going to get worse."

"I agree." Austin says. "I'll message Kate when we get to the office and see when we can meet or at least chat. Do you have a PR manager?"

"Honestly, no. I haven't super needed one yet. I've just been going through my actual manager at WME."

"I work within WME too. Maybe Kate can sign you onto her team."

"That would be great, honestly. It'd be nice having the same PR manager and team."

"It would be, especially with us having a baby & all."

"Exactly."

They made it to the gynecologist office & we're called back almost immediately. Now they sit waiting in the room for the doctor.

Victoria let's out a big sigh. Austin can tell she's upset Ashton isn't here.

"You good?" he asks, even though he knows she's not.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Vic..."

"What?"

"You're upset, aren't you?"

"No. What would I be upset about?"

"That Ash isn't here for this special appointment."

"Okay, fine. You're right. I'm upset. He should be here if he really wants to be supportive of me and this baby."

"I know he should be. It's been kind of annoying me lately how he seems to not be making any time for you."

"What do you mean? He makes time for me. He just has to get his album done before the deadline."

"Sure, I get having deadlines. But he knows when these appointments are, Vic. He can schedule his studio time around the appointments, or give up an hour or two to be here."

"I know. It's been really upsetting me that he doesn't seem to put more effort into being here. You know, I haven't seen him in a week."

"Because he's constantly in the studio?"

"Yeah. I've even offered for him to come over afterwards & he can stay the night, but he just says he's too tired."

"So, he's making up excuses now?"

"You don't know that, Austin."

"Sure seems like he is though."

"Are you all of a sudden not liking him?"

"No."

"Sure seems like you are though."

"He's fine. I just don't like seeing him hurt you. That's all."

"Why? Because you love me or something?"

"No. I consider you a friend now, and I don't like seeing my friends get hurt."

"Oh, okay."

Dr. Martin comes into the room and greets them both.

"How has everything been the last month?" she asks.

"It's been great! The morning sickness has calmed down. Haven't had any kinds of pain. I've been good." Vic responds.

"That's great to hear! How  have you been, Austin?"

"I've been good." he smiles.

"Alright, ready to find out the gender?"

"Very ready." Vic says.

"Okay, go ahead and lay back. I'll get you all set up."

Dr. Martin gets everything set up & starts the ultrasound.

Austin leans on the back of the bed and watches the monitor with Victoria.

"Alright, so baby is looking good, measuring to about 16 weeks as we suspect. Heart beat is coming through nice and strong. And as for the gender..." Dr. Martin moves the scanner thing around to get the right angle. "Congratulations, it's a girl!"

"Are you serious?!" Victoria asked shocked. "I swear it was going to be a boy."

"I'm serious! Here's the legs right here, and then the buttock, then right here between the legs, if it was a boy, we'd see a penis, but there isn't one. So, yes, you're having a girl! Congratulations."

Victoria looks back at Austin, who is in utter shock, and grabs his hand. "Austin, it's a girl." she smiles up at him with tears in her eyes.

He looks down to her & smiles back, also with tears in his eyes, "Yeah, it's a girl. I can't believe it."

Austin has such an urge to kiss Victoria in celebration, but he holds back. But he does take in this moment where he gets to hold her hand, once more. Seems the only time these two will ever have any kind of physical touch is in moments like these.

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[atwooozi]

Almost Perfect (Sebastian x Fem!Farmer) Chapter 4: Fine

Warnings: Slow burn, personal struggles, anxiety, depression, eventual smut

Summary: When introduced to Angeline, the new farmer in town, Sebastian finds himself unable to engage with her due to his anxiety, despite his friends' efforts to include him. As the evening progresses, Sebastian battles with his internal struggles, feeling both drawn to Angeline's presence and frustrated with himself for his inability to connect.

A/N: I feel that it can be a little daunting to switch from two different points of view to retell an event since it can be a little samey, but I feel like I added in enough extra details to make it not feel like you're reading the same chapter over and over again. If anyone is reading this I hope you agree and let me know because I plan on doing this further on into the story and I don't want it to be boring.

READ ON AO3

Chapter 4: Fine

Spring 5

“What the hell, dude!” Sam frowned. 

“What?” Sebastian looked up from his shot. Sam’s frown deepened and Seb straightened to a standing position. Maybe Sam was finally done with losing all the time. 

“You could have said hi at least.” Abby crossed her arms over her chest. 

Sebastian sighed and looked up at the ceiling not able to look his friends in the eyes. “Sorry.” It’s not that he wanted to completely ignore the girl he just felt like he couldn’t. The words physically felt like they were stuck in his throat and by the time he felt comfortable enough to talk it was only to Abby or Sam. 

Victor took his death screen as a cue to leave as Sebastian and his friend’s conversation started to get more tense. Victor gave the group a polite wave before making his way out of the saloon much to Sebastian’s relief. He didn’t really need to be chewed out in front of someone he only considered an acquaintance at best.  

“Look man, we know you have anxiety.” Sam looked at Sebastian sympathetically, “and I-I don’t really get it, but that was rough to watch.” 

“Well she said she’d probably come by next Friday.” Abby shrugged. “Just– I don’t know, apologize and we’ll try again.” 

Sebastian nodded. “Yeah, fine. Sorry guys.” He put his pool cue back on the rack. “I’m gonna get out of here. It’s been a long week.” 

Sebastian left before his friends could say anything and lit up a cigarette. He took a drag as he walked up the mountain path and exhaled blowing the smoke up towards the sky. He stood by the lake and continued to smoke his head swimming. He was annoyed with himself. His friends were annoyed with him, too. He couldn’t bring himself to talk to a girl. What a fuck up. She was just a person. She probably thought he was an asshole or a freak. 

Sebastian stomped out his cigarette and walked into the house. It was quiet, everyone must be in bed. He walked down to his room and dropped down on the bed, causing the bedframe to creak. 

Sebastian ran his hand through his hair and sighed. He thought back to earlier that night. He felt fine. He was fine. He didn’t even fight with Demetrius much that week. What the fuck happened?

~*~

  “I’m so pumped.” Sam said as he bounced practically into the saloon from his excitement . 

“I didn’t realize you wanted to lose that badly.” Sebastian smirked as he followed Sam inside. 

“Not that” Sam rolled his eyes as they walked towards the pool table. 

“Then what?” Sebastian asked as he made his way to his side of the pool table. 

“Oh hi Sam, Sebastian. I’m great, thank you so much for asking.” Abby said her voice laced with sarcasm.  

“Hi Abby.” 

“Hey Vic” Sam said and patted Victor on the shoulder as he made his way over to his side of the pool table. Sebastian only nodded to the other raven haired man as he went to grab his favorite pool cue. 

“Hi Abs.” Sam said.”As I was going to say, I’m pumped because I invited the cute farmer to hang out.” 

“Oooh.” Abby nodded. “Do you think she’ll play Prairie King with me?” 

Sam shrugged. “Maybe?” 

“You’ve met the new farmer?” Victor joined the conversation. 

Sebastian was quiet, listening to his friends babble about their new potential friend. He wasn’t really looking forward to meeting anyone. Even if she was cool or cute it didn’t matter he was getting out as soon as he could. He didn’t need anyone new in his life. It would just make leaving harder.  It was already going to be hard enough to leave Sam and Abby, and his mom if he was being truly honest with himself. 

~*~

Sam was talking about the band when someone looked into the room. He assumed it was just Gus with the pizza but when he looked it was an unfamiliar female face. Sebastian was surprised that the farmer was cute. Sam wasn’t just talking out of his ass. When the farmer walked further into the room he got a better look. The farmer was short, probably shorter than Maru or Abigail even. Her hair was dark like his own, but when the light hit it, it had a slight red hue. Her skin looked smooth and soft and was a nice golden color in comparison to his own almost hauntingly pale skin. Sebastian felt slightly guilty as he scanned over her body, it looked, well, nice. She had wide hips and soft looking thighs, at least, that’s what Sebastian imagined. Her chest looked– alright. Sebastian willed himself to stop. He was just being a creep now. She looked over at him. Her face was doll-like, she had large brown eyes, a button nose, pouty, berry-colored lips, and– ENOUGH. 

“Hi I’m Angeline. I just moved here from Zuzu. I-I’m taking over the old farm” she said in a soft voice. Her voice was pretty, angelic, even. 

Sebastian wanted to say hi. He went to open his mouth, but nothing came out. Thankfully Sam, Abby, and Victor were there to keep the girl occupied while Sebastian did his best to figure out why he went nonverbal all of a sudden, but even after he rehearsed what he was going to say in his head the words would just not leave his throat. He felt his body go slightly rigid and his heart rate start to quicken. No. This couldn’t happen here, not now. The thought of almost everyone in town seeing him have a panic attack only made the anxiety worse. He felt like his lungs were on the verge of collapse or that his heart was going to burst. He wasn’t sure which would happen first but both outcomes were far from ideal. 

“Dude?” Sam pulled Sebastian from his thoughts. “Do you want me to break?” 

Sebastian shook his head and grunted a bit. “N-no, I got it.” He said as he lined up his shot. His breathing started to regulate. He just needs to focus on the game and he’d be okay. He was too in his head. If he just did his usual thing things would be fine. He would be fine. 

~*~

Eventually Sebastian was able to start functioning somewhat normally. He wasn’t able to talk to the cute farmer, but he was able to talk to Abby and Sam normally without much trouble. He was even beating Sam at pool, though, that wasn’t that hard to begin with. 

He glanced over at Angeline. She really was cute. He liked her dimples when she smiled and her giggle whenever Sam, Abby, or Victor joked with her. Her whole face would brighten when she laughed. It gave him butterflies but somehow relaxed him at the same time. He found it amusing how readable her face was as she spoke with the other three. The way her brows knitted together and a pout would form while she was thinking was probably his favorite expression from the ones he saw that night.  

He was glad that Abby and Sam were making a new friend, but he couldn’t help but feel a tinge of sadness. She was essentially going to be replacing him for when he left for Zuzu. He would still make an effort to keep in contact with his friends but he wondered how long they’d keep that up before they would start getting too busy. He wanted something new. He needed something new, but this sadness he felt when he thought about losing Sam and Abigail actually caused his heart to ache. He knew them for what felt like a lifetime. He couldn’t imagine starting over with new people over again.  

“Right Seb?” Abby turned to look at Sebastian and it pulled him from his thoughts. Angeline looked up at him, her lips forming a slight pout as she waited for a response. Did she do that purposely or was it an unconscious thing?  

“What?” Sebastian turned his gaze to Abby trying to break away from his train of thought. 

Abby rolled her eyes. “Nothing Seb.” She pouted and looked over to the farmer. “Sorry Angeline, Seb might not look like it but he’s pretty competitive so he’s too busy beating Sam’s ass to pay attention to us.” 

“Hey–” Sam started to argue. 

Victor chuckled. “It’s hardly a competition, Sam.” 

Angeline shook her head. “It’s okay. I’ve got you guys to keep me company.” she gave a tight smile to Sebastian before turning her full attention back to Abby. 

Good. Sebastian felt a bit lighter knowing Angeline– the farmer, had given up on trying to engage with him. It only made his anxiety worse. Sure he would still steal glances at her or say a few words to Sam and Abigail, but that was all he could muster right now. Anything more would be asking way too much of him. Just looking was enough for him. 

~*~

Sebastian frowned as he thought back on the night. It didn’t seem that bad to him, but what did he know? He was basically the town's outcast aside from Linus. He turned on to his side and hugged himself. Whatever. He didn’t want new friends anyway. He was leaving. Was that even why she was upset in the first place? Was she even upset? Sebastian didn’t know. He kept telling himself it didn’t even matter anyway she was going to be Sam and Abigail’s friend not his. If she needed another friend so badly there was always Victor. 

Thinking about Victor made his stomach twist. Victor wasn’t a bad guy, but for some reason Sebastian couldn’t help but compare himself to him. Victor had gone to college, he was quiet, sure, but he was much more friendly than Sebastian was. Victor wouldn’t have ignored the new farmer because of anxiety. Victor had a bright future ahead of him and could go wherever he wanted while Sebastian was stuck here clawing himself out of what felt like a never-ending abyss. The worst thing about Victor was that he had all these opportunities to leave this place but for some reason he chose to stay. Sebastian just couldn’t understand that. If he were Victor he would have stayed in Zuzu after he graduated and never come back. Yet Victor was happy to live in his beautiful mansion with his mom just wasting his time in this good for nothing place. Sebastian wasn’t Victor and he never would be it was a waste of time to get mad at the poor guy for just existing. 

Sebastian shifted his weight in his bed trying to get comfortable. He let out a frustrated groan and buried his face in his pillow. He was leaving for Zuzu as soon as possible. He didn’t need any new friends and he was just making the suffering worse by comparing himself to someone that was so perfect. Sebastian shut his eyes and forced himself to go to sleep. Repeating the same few lines to himself about leaving and not needing friends. However, despite how much he repeated the lines to himself he wasn’t completely convinced.