#it is 1:30 in the morning and i have work in less than seven hours

[unhappy-sometimes]

a 2024 writing retrospective (for sxf fanfic)

ignore the fact that i’m a few days late. i’ve been unbelievably busy the past couple weeks.

in this post i’ll go over the fics i wrote in 2024 think of it as an extremely extended author’s notes. i love to talk and will do so when given the chance.

i’ll start from my latest fic and work my way backwards. spoilers for everything i’ve written in 2024.

(Very) Stupid

Something that I try really really hard to maintain in my writing is believability, specifically when it comes to writing characters. Characters acting out of character is one of my biggest fanfic pet peeves: if I wanted to read about someone’s oc, then I would’ve read a regular book. That being said, I think a lot about how Twilight would actually act like if he were in love. I had an interesting conversation with @cantareincminor forever ago about how he’s so emotionally constipated that it’s kind of difficult to write Twilight in love without making him a bit ooc. Right now in canon it’s hard to imagine him falling head over heels for anyone (in my opinion, anyway).

That being said there are moments in canon where he acts flustered in situations that could be interpreted as romantic. So, for right now, my hypothesis is this: if and when Twilight falls in love, he’s going to be an absolute fool. He’s going to do his usual overthinking and overanalyizing, so much to the point that he starts hesitating over the smallest things.

(Very) Stupid is how I imagine all of that unfolding, although for the sake of comedy I did push things to the absurd. Sometimes Twilight does things in canon with such certainty of “Yes, of course normal people do this, I’m nailing this normalcy thing” that he fails to realize he’s being kinda ridiculous. I also wanted to take that element and incorporate it into a fic.

I also wanted to try subverting expectations (ooh fancy literary term) by having them do romantic things that lead them nowhere. I tried to cram in as many tropes as I could—feeding each other with a fork, only one bed, first kiss—but do so under the guise of Twilight completely missing how dumb he’s being the entire time. He only realizes his feelings until after their first kiss, specifically when Yor surprises him with a quick peck on the cheek. This, of course, was deliberate. I figured that it’d make the most sense if Twilight would only realize his feelings in a situation where he wasn’t the one initiating a (somewhat) romantic gesture because he theoretically wouldn’t be overthinking it. Instead, Yor just sneaks in when his guard is down <3

Endings are usually the hardest things for me to write and (Very) Stupid was no exception. I almost had Twilight pass out at the breakfast table when he kisses Yor but then I realized I’d made him faint in almost every fic I’ve written this year and that felt like a cop out. But I figured it out and I don’t mind the way the ending turned out :D

Also, kind of a random reference, but the title is slightly inspired by VERY NICE by Seventeen lol

Holy crap I’ve written so much for only one fic so far. My apologies in advance.

21 Eden Street

I won’t go into too much detail for 21 Eden Street because it’s still ongoing, but I just wanna brag about how fun it is to write hehe. It’s really enjoyable to write pure crack and come up with stupid and insane ideas with Cantare. You don’t need to have seen either iteration of 21 Jump Street to understand what’s going on. Honestly, we’ve taken very little from the source material and treated it more like a loose guide and a basis for brainstorming.

Don’t worry, we haven’t abandoned it! Cantare is waiting on me to finish writing my chapter (hehe sorry, Cantare!) and soon it’ll be back up and running.

Seeing things

Ah, Seeing Things, my beloved <3

This fic has the least amount of hits out of everything I’ve written (which is not surprising to me) but I hold it very dear to my heart. There’s not a specific reason why other than I just really enjoyed writing it. I also spent a ton of time making supplementary drawings and a whole hype campaign for it, too, so I kinda am obligated to feel some sorta way about it.

Anyway, the way this fic came about is simple; I just had the things I am most afraid of happen to Twilight. Yes, I’m scared of serial killers and my loved ones dying like everyone else, but something I am absolutely terrified of are hallucinations. That and doppelgangers.

Not being able to tell reality apart from fiction activates the flight or fight senses in me. Real life can be scary, yes, but reality is bound by the rules of reality. Literally anything can happen in fiction. The most horrific, awful things are possible in fiction and if those things suddenly become possible in reality???? Girl I am GONE. Passing away. Curling up in a fetal position in the nearest corner. I don’t know if that makes any sense. If I ever start seeing things that I can’t be sure are actually happening or not, I am choosing to die right then and there. Doppelgangers as a concept are also really scary to me. It’s like stranger danger but times a thousand because you can’t tell who the strangers are anymore.

In my initial draft, there wasn’t nearly as much of a tension between Twilight and Yor. If I recall correctly, by then I’d written to nearly the end and realized that for Yor this whole experience has been Loid acting just a little more weird than usual. It might’ve been Cantare’s suggestion (just assume everything after Guy’s Night has been beta’d by Cantare and you’ll be mostly right) but I realized that Twilight probably would start to suspect the people around him were screwing with him. I added the scene where his room was messed up and it all fell into place hehe.

I don’t like writing gore or the like because I feel like typical gore quickly starts escalating into levels of pain that the average reader has no possibility of comprehending and it loses its efficacy. Instead I tried feeding into Twilight’s paranoia, adding things that in isolation are just weird but when put together are unsettling. I shamelessly stole the fourth room hallway from Impossible Landscapes, a Delta Green campaign that I highly recommend you check out if you enjoy surreal horror. I purposefully kept some things vague, like the things Anya sees in Twilight’s mind, the way Handler’s face gets warped, or the description of “the watchers” because I felt like going into detail would lose the unknown-ness of it all. That and I’m lazy heehee.

In some way, canon Spy x Family does deal with ideas of doppelgangers and paranoia. Spies are constantly afraid of being listened in on, they don’t know if they can trust anyone, and they always have to keep an eye over their shoulder. For someone who is always a little scared of being spied on (I cover my phone and laptop cameras for that exact reason), that kinda sounds like torture. Seeing Things was a fun way to crank that paranoia up to a hundred. It was especially fun writing the museum scene because I tried thinking of things that are just ever so slightly off, things that theoretically could exist but clearly don’t.

I also threw in other things I’m scared of, like being watched, being followed, the dark, and the bathroom at night just to be extra mean to Twilight <3

Anyway, I’m rambling and this analysis post will be a novel if I keep this up.

Guy’s Night

I do recognize the insane tone shift going from Seeing Things to Guy’s Night.

What is there to even say about Guy’s Night? I got the idea from Psych (the Last Night Gus episode) who got the general basic from the Hangover movies. I wrote it all out in a few days, one of which I was sick in bed. I don’t know what to say.

Looking back on it, I don’t love the way it turned out. I’m glad I wrote it but where I usually don’t mind rereading my stuff for fun I do kinda cringe at Guy’s Night. It relies on a lot of contrivances which I tried masking with humor but it’s still a bit obvious. If you make a timeline of the previous night’s events, it only kinda makes sense.

It doesn’t help that I went into it with no plan whatsoever. I just sat down and said what happens happens. When I wrote in chapter one that something had happened between Loid and Yor, I didn’t know what that was. When I wrote Loid saying “we need to see what’s on that camera film” I was right there next to him saying “buddy, so do I because I have no idea.” When wrote Franky saying that his friend Marko might have answers, I was hoping he would too because I, like everyone else, didn’t know what was going on either.

The ONE thing I DID know was that Twilight got a tattoo the night before. That was it. That’s all.

I don’t typically plan out everything when I write but I usually have a good idea. For Guy’s Night, I had a bad idea in that I had no idea. It kinda shows. Sorry.

That being said, it was incredibly fun writing their drunk shenanigans and banter. The dynamic between Twilight, Franky, and Yuri was so goofy that I’ve seriously debated writing a sequel of sorts. However that’s incredibly unlikely. If I ever do write a sequel, it’d be a Girl’s Night with Yor and a combination of female characters, probably Sylvia and Fiona.

After Peace (and Glimpses of Happiness)

A quick heads up: I don’t go into detail but I do discuss mental illness in this segment.

I am incredibly proud of how After Peace turned out. Not only did it receive a really good reception for being my first fic ever, but it also helped me work through some things in my own life. It’s important to give some context.

I wrote After Peace shortly after graduating college. I won’t go into specifics, but college was really, really difficult for me. I had been so excited for this next step in my life after graduating high school but instead it turned out to be one of the hardest experiences of my life. Depression came out of nowhere and stomped me into the ground.

I used to have very high expectations for myself; I had a clear vision of what I wanted to do with my life and I was taking steps to work towards those goals. Then my mental health tanked and suddenly everything just felt so difficult and pointless. I’d sleep all day and then hate myself when the sun started to set because that meant I’d wasted an entire day doing nothing when I was supposed to be working towards something. But I just couldn’t do it anymore.

That’s something I’ve noticed that a lot of media gets wrong about depression sometimes. It doesn’t always make you feel sad. Sometimes it just sucks everything out of you—sadness, happiness, anger, everything. I stopped drawing, stopped listening to music, stopped eating, stopped exercising, stopped doing everything that I enjoyed because it felt like the equivalent of doing the dishes. Everything was a chore, even the things that I liked.

What really changed things around was when my poor roommate, who was sick of me sleeping for twenty hours a day, dragged my sorry self to the free counseling services on campus. It’s doesn’t fix everything, but having someone who cares about you and you care about can really help your mental health.

Anyway, let’s not forget I’m talking about an anime fanfiction here haha.

After Peace really did start out as a couple of doodles but as I started to write it, I noticed that there were a lot of similarities between myself and Loid. No, I am not a former spy turned grumpy hermit, but I did once have great aspirations and now have to settle for what reality offers me. Realizing that worth comes from simply existing was something that I had to understand in order to begin my recovery process.

I’ve always found it kind of sad that if you took away the goal of world peace from Twilight that you’re basically left with nothing. He doesn’t really have hobbies, no real friends, and he never takes a day off. That’s hardly sustainable. Would he really be happy when there’s nothing left to do? I’d like to think so, but I wanted to see what would happen if he wasn’t.

I mentioned this in the end note, but After Peace was also influenced by this comic I was working on years ago that had the similar premise of “grumpy man learns to enjoy life with the help of a young girl” (very original, I know). I doubt that I’ll ever release that comic in the capacity I once intended, but it does live on in my secret second tumblr account of you ever manage to find it.

Anyway, I was worried about writing After Piece because Anya plays a big role and I am Not Good at writing children. It was hard striking a balance between making Anya likeable but still realistic. I don’t interact with children often and, as a youngest sibling, I don’t have much experience with them. Anya has so many layers—being a test subject, being a telepath, being a child—that it was hard managing them all. But I’m okay with how she turned out.

There is a slight problem in that she basically disappears once Yor shows up D:

I debated having Yor in the fic at all but then I realized that without her the emotional climax would have to rely on a four year old’s emotional intelligence and then decided right then and there that Yor had to be in it haha.

Yor’s whole deal with accidentally killing the wrong person was kind of a last minute addition. I do wish I was able to explore that more, but I also feel like she’s emotionally mature enough to forgive herself more quickly than Twilight would. She ends up serving a bit of a role model to him. It was also nice to be able to write them interacting with the truth out on the table and for them to be honest with each other.

Pacing was something that I was very concerned with. Looking back on it now, I’m still worried that things move along a bit quickly. However, I am reminded of some advice my graphic design professors gave me: “Good design is when nothing more can be take away.” And, because I was writing this as fast as possible, you best believe I was taking things away if I didn’t need them. I didn’t want to fall into the trap of dwelling on Twilight’s thoughts for too long so I instead opted for showing him progressing through experiences instead. I think it worked out.

However because I took so many things out I decided to start Glimpses of Happiness, a supplementary fic to After Peace that fills in the cracks, so to speak. I wanted to have more moments between Twilight and the other characters, like stargazing with Anya and growing close to Yor. Right now there’s only one chapter, but I have plans for at least a few more. I also thought it was important to highlight that mental health recovery never truly ends. Just because Yor and Twilight had a nice chat on the roof doesn’t mean that things are suddenly okay. It’s a long process that sometimes never ends and I wanted to show that.

Of course, I can’t talk about After Peace without addressing the Midwest allegations. As I said, yes, this fic was inspired by my childhood in the American Midwest, even though I was nowhere near any mountains. The Midwest is a silly place full of nothing to do but go to your local Walmart for fun, but I think it served a good enough setting for Twilight to chill out and slow down. If I really wanted to do full Midwest, I’d have Twilight watch a tornado touch down on a cornfield from his truckbed, but that feels sort of out of place.

I feel like there’s more to say but I can’t think of anything and I doubt anyone’s actually gonna read all the way down here anyway. But yeah, that’s After Peace.

Oh, and the A.M. AM by Damien Jurado Youtube video currently has nine comments that mentjon falling from a five story building, which I think is really funny.

So now what?

Against my better judgement, I’m still writing. I have a couple projects in the works, especially one big big big one that hopefully I can start publishing soon. Keep an eye out for that.

In the meantime, thanks for a great year! I hope 2025 holds more great things in store for us all!

-unso ^. .^<

[somewhat-adorkable]

My goddaughter was born on April 6th, 2021.

The world felt real again in May of 2023.

This is going to be an extremely long post and contains a lot of potentially triggering content so proceed with caution.

Her mom, K, is my best friend. She had lived with me for almost seven years, and I was the first person she told she was pregnant.

It was mid November, I was up at 5am getting ready for work. She worked a night shift so normally we only saw each other on our days off, when I dropped her off at work, and when she woke me up to tell me she was home. She hadn't woken me up the night before.

I was confused when she walked in, normally she slept till noon. She held something out to me and I blinked a moment, processed that what I was looking at was a positive pregnancy test.

What I said was "K, I told you so, you dumb slut."

Because I had. I told her that her boyfriend was just out to knock her up and I had told her two weeks prior that she was pregnant. I could feel it.

The next thing I said was, "it's a girl, you know. Are we happy or.....?"

We decided we were.

The next few months passed rapidly and a lot happened. It was a blur of us going to doctors appointments, lots of staring at a blob on a screen that we called Baby Bean.

She was six months pregnant when she moved in with her sister. She wanted to, since her sister had already raised three kids. Around the same time, it was decided my then partner would move in with me.

Less than a week after K moved, I was at her house before work and I said "I want you to make a doctor's appointment for today."

"Why?" She laughed, "I feel fine."

"K," I warned, "please call? Now? Something is wrong. I can feel it."

She humored me and called, got an appointment for later that morning. I asked her if I needed to take off work to go with her, she said no, she would call a cab. I was training for a new job and she didn't want me to miss anything.

I asked her to call me after her appointment, she said she would.

I left for work.

Two hours later, at 9am, I got a phone call and she was sobbing.

"K, come on," I said, "breathe, I need to understand you if you want me to help."

She explained that her blood pressure was in the 200s, that the doctor was terrified she would have a stroke, that they were taking her to a hospital three hours away by ambulance.

"I'll tell Jeff to bring me home now," I said, signaling for the man that was training me, "I'll be there when you get there."

But we agreed that instead I would call her mom. It was mid covid and she could only have one person there. I called her mom for her and explained.

A few hours later, K called again, she only had 30 minutes to make a decision:

1. She could try to hold out and there was a 100% chance her and the baby would die because of her blood pressure not coming down regardless of treatment.

2. She could have an emergency C-section at 26 weeks pregnant. There was an 80% chance she would live, but a less than 10% chance Baby Bean would live.

My body went completely numb.

She signed everything over to me. Her will said I would take care of everything, that if she passed I would make all the decisions regarding Baby Bean. I told her okay.

She asked if I understood if Baby Bean died, she would die too.

I said I knew that all along.

She chose to have the C-section.

April 6, 2021 at 4:14pm, my goddaughter was born.

She weighed right at 14oz, she was 10in long.

I video chatted with K when she woke up, she cried, I told her everything would be okay. That Baby Bean was strong and so was she.

I didn't believe a word I was saying. I was terrified. I accepted the reality I would lose my best friend and the baby I loved from the moment I knew she existed.

We video chatted every day, for hours at a time, often saying nothing and just existing together.

They told her Baby Bean would likely not survive the week, that if she did then she would be blind, deaf, and likely mute. If her brain even developed beyond where it was at. K couldn't hold her, couldn't touch her, they didn't have tubes small enough to even feed her properly and were using q-tips.

In my daily life, I kept moving. I tried for my new job, I prepared for my partner to move in, but dread ate at me constantly. Feeling as if every moment was just the edge of a great plunge into darkness.

Baby Bean survived the week.

On April 19th, I had my first official day at work. And my then partner moved in.

I mostly felt like a blur.

Admittedly I avoided her room (long story short, pulled a gun from a previous roommates mouth in that room just a couple months before hand, and opening the door gave me a deep sense of anxiety), but mostly it was because when I was home I needed to know that K and Bean were okay.

The reality is I was overwhelmed, terrified, no sleeping or eating properly, then I added an extra layer of autistic burnout to the situation by adding extra people to my house.

On April 21st, my mom walked in my room and told me my cousin Destiny and her boyfriend were murdered, and a part of my world fell apart completely.

A couple days later, my grandmother died.

My grandmother's side of the family disowned me with her gone. I lost a massive part of my extended family.

A couple days after that, my brother committed a major crime and went on the run.

I told none of this to K.

She had enough going on, she didn't need my shit too.

In May, Baby Bean developed a massive brain bleed.

In May, Baby Bean got a major infection at one of her IV sites.

In May, Baby Bean got a blood infection.

I was.... not okay. Not okay in a way I will ever be able to verbalize. I was self-harming again, everything made me feel sick, but I did my best to put on an act.

My best friend was going through something horrific and unimaginable and I couldn't be there. I couldn't help. I could do nothing but sit with her on video chat and look at this tiny thing in an incubator and beg it to please become a baby.

My own problems were stomped down in exchange for everyone else, I did my best over and over but in my daily life I was told it wasn't enough.

Mid May, my partner joined a couple dating apps because I... well, wasn't doing enough of the right things, to be blunt. We were poly, so I told myself it was okay, because it has to be. That I was selfish to make it about me. I only vaguely mentioned it to K, but I smiled and told her it was okay, that I was fine.

In June, I was able to visit K for the second time, the first time being in mid May, and the visit went well. I brought my then partner with me, to what felt like a sacred meeting. We weren't allowed in the hospital, of course, but we went out to eat.

Middle of June my birthday rolled around. Things... well... didn't go great. My family tried but the shadow of something else, not the situation with K, drug me down. On the phone with K that night, I softly told her what happened and how bad it hurt me.

She cried almost hysterically, raised her voice, she had spent the past 10 years making my birthday special and was angry and upset that someone else would make me feel unimportant.

"you are the most lovable person I know," her text said, "no one you love should make you question your worth, even for a second. I could not have asked for a better friend, you may be a tad bent but the best people are."

The day after my birthday, my brother was sentenced to prison.

End of June, my partner and I broke things off.

End of June, my godmother passed away from a surgical complication.

I spent so much time feeling like I was in limbo, never feeling fully connected to anything around me.

Everything felt distant, I felt broken and lost in a profound way.

My entire life was viewed from the outside for months.

I developed intense panic attacks, vivid nightmares where I would claw my skin raw and clench my jaw so hard my gums would bleed.

In November 2021, my goddaughter came home.

She weighed just above five pounds. She had an NG tube, a heart monitor, had special formula and a multitude of special doctors to see every other week.

The first time I held he I cried. For the first time in eight months, she felt real. Tangible. A living, breathing thing.

And time kept moving.

I kept moving.

May of 2023, I was house-sitting and something... popped. Something in my head.

Suddenly my world was bright, vivid, everything was in first person point of view again.

I panicked. It was the worst panic attack I've ever had. I cried, screamed, vomited, shook violently and almost passed out at several points.

For the next couple weeks, I would have those panic attacks every couple days.

I almost had a full mental breakdown.

We upped my medication and added a new one.

It's January 2024, and to this day I worry about Bean constantly. Showers give me panic attacks. Windchimes make my heart race because that was the first thing I heard when my brain finally decided it was done with its constant state of depersonalization.

I'm still learning to cope with everything that happened, and sometimes it feels neverending.

My goddaughter was born on April 6th, 2021.

The world felt real again in May of 2023.

[engbergsinfinland]

Is This the Final Post??

Hello, dear reader(s?) . . . I am writing this from back in Albuquerque! At 6500 feet of elevation with sunny and hot weather (but not too hot yet), I sit here actually at Eric's desk while I try to get his printer to work with my laptop because I have to print out Cece's packing list for Girl Scout camp, which I drop her off for at 1:30 p.m. No rest for us; so it goes!

We arrived back in Albuquerque at midnight last night and rolled in to our garage at 1. And the kids were in bed by 1:30 a.m. and I was in bed by 2:15 a.m. And I had a bit of a disruption overnight because Alex was super thirsty and just overall a little unsettled, but in all, I got about six hours of scattered sleep. We are all up and at 'em this morning and are not feeling too bad -- yet! I forewarned the kids that jet lag might come down like a hammer sometime midafternoon, since Finland is nine hours ahead of us. And so when it comes, it might feel like you just cannot . . .keep . . .your . . .eyes . . . open. We will see how we do!

So, let me see if I can give a quick recap of our travel day. Then, if I have time -- or perhaps in another post after this one, although historically I am very bad at coming back to these blogs and giving them a tidy ending full of concluding thoughts and resonant, profound take-aways -- I will close the loop on our last 1.5 days in Finland and describe how we got all seven of our large suitcases, three of our smaller ones, and miscellaneous menagerie of carryons ready for the adventure. Anyway -- yes -- our travel day.

So, Jan, our landlord, came by at 10:40 a.m. on Thursday and picked up our keys and while we were waiting for him, Eric and the kids lugged all of the bags down to the back parking area of our building and I called an Uber, a van Uber, to haul everything over to the bus station. Eric kept joking all morning that he was going to walk it all over, with our help, and I was like, hell no. 'Scuse my language. But, seriously, hell no to that! Our bags were so, so very full. I packed them to the gills and used vacuum bags to their utmost capacity and just filled every nook and cranny and we were loaded to the extreme, people. And while the bus station is less than a ten-minute walk from our apartment, I could not envision how we would get all of the large suitcases and miscellaneous carry-ons over there. Anyway, the Uber van came--after we returned our keys to Jan (I still can't believe it!)-- and we got to the bus station with plenty of time to spare. We rode the bus for two hours and then, surprisingly, we had to change busses for the last few minutes to actually get the leg to the airport.

I want to mention that I saw two semi-recognizable Finns on our morning of departure from Finland. First, while we were on the bus, at one of the stops, on came a man in his twenties maybe with his grandfather -- who was Papa, from the YouTube series Lotta ja Papa! I first came across Lotta ja Papa before Christmas when we were learning the lyrics to the Joulupukki song, and Lotta has a version where she sings the song with her grandfather and her sister. From that day, I started to check in with the YouTube channel from time to time, even though my Finnish is nowhere near strong enough to really hang in there with it. But, the gist is this: for five years, Lotta has recorded videos several times a week with her very elderly grandfather who I gather has Alzheimer's or another version of dementia. He is just so warm and loves to sing and she is so attentive (one Finn remarked in a video's comments, "thanks for making the rest of us look bad!"-- haha!!--with regard to how much time she spends with her grandfather). But, Lotta is a children's book author and an advocate for elders with memory loss and she is all-in-all a very neat gal, from what I can deduce. Annnnyway, I could not believe I actually saw Papa get on the bus!

So, the next Finn of note that I saw was Antti Saino, who is the Finnish hurdler Cece and I met on the train in November! Do you remember me writing about it? He has signed to run hurdles for University of Texas at Austin and he came up to me in the airport in Helsinki on Thursday as we were checking in (trying to check in, rather) our bags and he said "do you remember me?" and I was like "yes, of course!" He and I are actually Instagram friends now and so I have followed the development of his NCAA scholarship situation since November. I hope we'll actually get to see him compete in the US! Anyway, he was on the way to Madrid for the European Team Track and Field Championships. It was so nice to see him again!

So, the Helsinki airport was sooooo mobbed. Finnair had actually emailed us with a warning about this. After a few missteps, we finally got all of our bags checked and went through security and then we had to go through passport control because we were leaving the EU. At every point, there was a long line. Finally, we did get on our flight and I've got to say, it was really smooth sailing until we reached the Chicago area. I really could not believe we were actually flying away from Finland. My heart like dropped as we were flying away from Helsinki, seeing the green expanses and innumerable lakes just sailing by the plane window. Finland is such a beautiful country and so calm, so unpretentious, so sane, so solid -- I don't know how to summarize it in just a few phrases, but it really made me sad to know we were leaving. I really couldn't quite assimilate the fact that we'd packed up all of our things, returned our keys, and we might well not ever see that apartment again. Returning to the US felt like a dream in a way, and not really in the way that may sound at face-value. What I mean is, we were on an 11-month interlude, a break from our usual reality, in Finland, and the experience was so all encompassing and so rich, but it also felt sort of like we just pressed "pause" on our Albuquerque life. And then, "pause" was unpressed when we landed; everything seemed to be waiting for us, and time just started to click onwards. Finland faded into the distance. That is so sad. That is why it seems like it was just a dream and now we're back to our reality. I am back in this dry high desert, driving around to everywhere I need to go, as the sun bakes my car whenever I park it and I see people racing around and I see -- sad to say -- I see many of the problems this city of Albuquerque has and just cannot seem to ever fix. And, then there is the whole country of the United States and its problems. Not to say that Tampere and Finland do not have their share of problems, but some of the particular ones that really get me down about the US and about Albuquerque, Finland does not have in the quantities that we do here at home.

So, yes, we are back at home. I've got to say, as a footnote on the above, or a caveat, that there were a few really Lovely Americanisms (I'll go ahead and call them) that we encountered once we touched down at O'Hare, which seems like a pretty shabby airport in need of some real updating and repair, especially in contrast to the Helsinki airport. Cece started to really cry as we were waiting in a long passport control line. It really was this insanely long, but very crazily routed, line and people were all tired after long flights, pushing ahead of one another, and it was just a lot. Cece was tired and I think she was just overwhelmed. A few people who saw her cry as we were all shuffling forward in this badly designed line tried to say nice things to her. But, gears shifted quickly; once we had to walk through the Global Entry checkpoint, we started to focus on whether the miracle of every piece of our luggage making it to the US would occur. And indeed, the miracle did occur. And Lovely Americanism #1 took place. We discovered that the Smarte Cartes at O'Hare are not ones that require you to pay (this is not even the Lovely Americanism I am about to describe; it was just a nice surprise, especially since I was sure we'd have to pay, unlike at European airports). OK, so we wrangled all of our luggage and went through Customs. I knew I had to declare Alex, so we had to go through a different route. Once there, we were waiting a while and these two women we really being scrutinized (not in an aggressive way, but perhaps they had to declare something or other that was taking more time), and a Customs employee man who maybe had been on break came out from a door and said "oh, are you just waiting to declare your dog?" And he said he'd handle it! Totally out of the regular regime approach of a Customs operation. He just looked at Alex's EU Pet Passport, and that was all! We were on our way! I though this was really great that he just stepped out of the normal systematized way things usually go in a bureaucracy and helped us out :)

OK, so then, we're rolling along with three Smarte Cartes and we realized that the re-check counter for American is now closed. But, a lady saw us and out ridiculous amount of luggage and she said she'd go re-open the counter! Like, when does that ever happen!? She was nice. That is Lovely Americanism #2. By this term I do not mean that this is usual American behavior or something, because it might or it might not be, but it was a really nice way to re-enter, with people doing two really nice things for us.

Our flight to Albuquerque was fine but we were all so tired; we all kept falling asleep off and on over the three hours. My dad had done a very nice thing: he took Eric's big ol' Rivian to the airport for us and left it there, so we could transport all of our bags home, without having to try to get two Ubers after midnight. And, so, we got home! And the kids went to bed pretty quickly -- and there we are! I am back where I started this post!

I know there is a lot here I have not expanded upon and there is much more to say. But, now you know the basics of our travel day -- except, I did not mention Rowan's throwing-up experience upon landing in Chicago, a result of the bumpy ride on the way in and the two bags of candy he ate on the flight ;) And, yes, I let him do it to himself, and I warned of what might happen. So, yes, there was barfing -- into a barf bag -- three times. But no other mess! Whew. Humid days in midwest sweltering summers can create just the kind of puffy, bumpy clouds that make for not the smoothest descent.

Alrighty-- that is all for right now! I really do hope to be able to come back and offer a few more thoughts. But, if I don't, we are back in the Land of Enchantment, and our summer will move on, hot though it will be, but we will see Grammy and Pa-pa a lot, a book manuscript will I hope be finished, camps will be attended, and unpacking and re-situating in our house will occur, too. So, bye-bye for now! Thank you for reading. And thanks for taking part, through my voluminous amount of words, in the dream of a year we were so lucky to be able to have. It seriously feels like it was all just a dream.

[stressedlawsecretary]

Today's Focus

P sure the photo credit is an old Lacemade offering.

09.27.24 - FriYAY! I have made it to the end of the week! I could have taken off today, but frankly if I'm working remote I don't see a reason too; I'd rather save my days off for office days.

I mentioned that my hunny had a birthday yesterday;

Work - I'm still remote working so I have to clear out my email from anything that came in yesterday, and take care of anything that comes in today. I am expecting something, an efile or whatever, but I'm not expecting a lot of work waiting for me.

Background Noise - Well I'm still at home, so I'm still watching stuff on the DVR, but I don't think I've failed too badly on my YT watching, considering at this moment I'm down to 142 in my Watch Later (and I haven't been below 150, much less 200 in like a couple of months.)

Speaking of, between Wednesday and Thursday I watched 30 whole videos so my average is dropping to more like between 15-20 rather than a strong 20 but I'm also going to try and match what I did over those two days today. Wish me luck lol.

Study - Friday is Wikipedia day, and I am knee-deep in a hole about United Fruit and the Guatemalan Revolution, so aside from the tabs on my phone/tablet I'll be doing pages related to that debacle.

Wednesday I did get off a good seven or so hours from the DVR; I know while I was off I did like four episodes of Jeopardy, an episode of 60 Minutes, and two episodes (three hours!) of CBS Sunday Morning, plus I read like four press releases. I did not read on Thursday, but it was birthday celebration day so I wasn't focusing on studying lol.

Extras - Friday means I clean the catbox and prep it for the weekend; there's some other minor stuff I want to do around the house, but I mostly want to relax. The weekend is looking busy; I'm doing the non-food errands today, and the weekly food shopping tomorrow, so that hunny and I can go to the Great Pumpkin Patch on Sunday.

I'm doing the last episode of the Garo mini-series focused on Zero (I don't know how I didn't manage to watch those last Sunday) and a couple episodes of Lupin vs Patranger today so I 1) watch the two associated Garo movies after shopping on Saturday, and 2) switch back to Kamen Rider W next week. Dinner is a tuna crescent ring; tomorrows is meatball bombers. Already wrote one mini-essay, and I'm working on another around the longer one on wrongful conviction I'm doing.

[purpleyoonn]

Doughnuts and Shell Casings

one shot series // part 1 of ?

summary: you finally gather the courage to leave your routine and do something different. your expectations are blown out of the water as you meet your soulmates in a less-than-expected way. 

genre: soulmate au, bts au, mafia au, poly au, 

pairing: mafia bts x innocent reader

warnings: robberies/break-ins, attempted kidnapping, murder, reader witnesses a murder, bruises, mafia bangtan, weapon use, very touchy bangtan, blood, 

permanent taglist: @m1sss1mp​ @yourleftsock​ @skyys-universe​ @cryingpages​ @strxwbloody​  @drissteele​ @dustyinkpages​ @iamkookiesforyou​ @crushedblackroses​ @fluffy-canada-pancakes​ @blaaiissee​  @iiitsmaria​  @carolinexkpop​  @azazel-nyx​ @strawberry-moonpies​ @g-h-o-s-t-b-a-b-i​ @knjkitten​ @kleirielk​ @foreverweareyoung7​ @lachimolala22019​ @namuficxs​ @94z-93​ @kimgmzmc​ @thenaverse​ @dahliasbouqet​ @black-rose-29​ @tinyoonsblog​ @take-u-2-an0ther-w0r1d​ @stellauniverse​ @stupendouscookiehumanmug​ @tinyoonsblog​ @veronawrites​ @tatyhend​

masterlist // one-shot masterlist

-----------------------------------------------

Mornings were always the best for you. You loved getting things done and then having the rest of the day to relax or do whatever your heart desired. It was probably one of the reasons you loved working at a café, that and the free coffee and pastries.

Doughnut was the name of the café, named after the owner’s famous doughnuts she handmakes every morning before opening. Nayeon and Jihyo owned the café and were also some of your closest friends. You had gone to school with them, and the rest of their soulgroup.

There were nine people total within their soulgroup, and you were happy that they were able to complete their soulgroup so early in life. Most people don’t find their soulmates until their twenties, others were lucky enough to grow up with theirs.

Unfortunately for you, you had yet to meet any of the people whose name’s live on your wrist. There were seven names, and you had yet to even hear of them in your twenty-five years. It had you losing hope, but you had faith that you would meet them soon.

“Good morning, Kitty!” Nayeon yelled out to you as soon as you walked in through the back door. She had been calling you that since you were six, since the day you walked into first grade with your favorite stuffed animal: a black cat plushie.

“Good morning, Bunnie!” You yelled back, seeing her working on getting the fresh batch of pastries and sweets out on the shelf. It was your turn to bake the cookies, hence why you were at the café at 4:30 in the morning.

You set out to make coffees first, two for you for Nayeon and one for Sana who would be coming in at five. Once you handed Nayeon her coffee, and after hearing her mumble her thanks, you set out to get the cookie dough you had let freeze over night for easier handling. You spent all day yesterday working on making cookie dough. You made chocolate chip, peanut butter, and sugar cookie dough.

Your sugar cookies were a huge selling point, besides the doughnuts. You spent hours before opening individualizing each cookie, making different characters and designs. You loved seeing the faces of the little kids who come into the shop and pick out one of your cookies. It was a fun hobby for you and you loved the payoff of the business you receive from them.

Once you had a couple batches in the oven to bake and the time set, you moved back to the front to help Sana, who had just arrived, clean and set up the café. It was a smaller café, only around eight or nine small tables and twice as many chairs, but it was your friend groups pride and joy. All ten of you worked there, varying shifts and times.

You, Nayeon, and Jihyo worked the most shifts, as this was your baby. The others all had their own things going on, but never failed to take on one or two shifts a week at the café. It led to many fun times, and lots of happy memories that littered the walls in the form of polaroids.

“Okay my friends, we open in thirty minutes. Let’s have another good day and make even more friends!” Nayeon shouted out, getting your attention as she stood with her hands in the air.

When it was time to open, you already had a couple of customers waiting outside, two of your regulars who had been coming in every morning since you opened three years ago. You actually already had their order ready for them at the counter, two hot chocolates with caramel and two of Nayeon’s chocolate glazed doughnuts.

“Thanks again, deary.” The wife, Mrs. Chang, smiled up at you as you rang in their total. Mr. and Mrs. Chang were two of the sweetest people you had ever met.

“It’s no problem Mrs. Chang. You know we love seeing you both every morning.” You smile back at her, meaning every word. You loved seeing your regulars and learning how their day has been.

“Have you heard about the robberies going on?” Mr. Chang speaks up, a hint of worry in his tone as he looks to the side and out the window. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion as you take in his words.

“No, Mr. Chang. We haven’t heard anything.” You hand him the change as he motions for his wife to grab their usual table.

“There has been a couple robberies over the past week, most of them taking place downtown in the shopping district but we still worry about you all.” He places a hand on top of your own that rest on the counter.

“Thank you for that, Mr. Chang. I will talk to Nayeon and Jihyo and see if we can’t figure out some more safety measures.” You try to smile reassuringly at the older gentleman, not quite sure what you could do, but it seems to work as he smiles back and nods his head.

“Good. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to our favorite girls.” He grabs his hot chocolate and goes to sit down.

His words had you kind of worried, wondering if at some point the robberies would make their way to where you were located. You hoped that the college district was far enough away that you were safe. You looked over to the measly double lock that the front door had and moved to turn to Sana.

“We need to figure out our budget and see what kind of safety measures we can add to the building.” Sana quirks her head at you, questioning your statement. You lead her to the back where Nayeon was and explain to them what Mr. Chang said.

They were also a little worried, Nayeon telling you both she would talk to Jihyo and look at the budget to see what you all could do. That was all you could really do for the moment without looking at the numbers so with that you all went back to work.

It was a normal day, the flow ebbing off around eleven but returning around one when classes let out for the science building at the local university. That meant rush hour for your café as the crowds of students came for caffeine refuels or sweets to tide them over.

This meant that it was time for Dahyun, Momo and Jeongyeon’s shift. They would be taking over for you and Sana as it was Nayeon’s day to run the shop. You both were going to meet Chaeyoung for lunch as she had a free period before her next class.

“Bye Bunnie! By Hyunie! By Yeongie! By Momo!” You and Sana both shouted out in unison, your normal departure ritual, each earning bye’s in return as the door closed behind you.

The two of you walked the couple blocks it would take to get to the restaurant.

“You know, you should get out more, like take up a yoga or painting class or something.” Sana was nonchalant as she suggested. The soulgroup had been trying to get you out of your hole for years. They thought you spent too much time in the shop or at home.

“You don’t need to worry about me. Getting out isn’t really my…thing.” You shrugged in response. It was true, you were completely content with just relaxing at home or being at the café. You weren’t the person to party or drink. It just wasn’t something you enjoyed.

“It’s just, the more places you go to, or things you do, the more likely it is you’ll meet your soulmates.” She explains with a saddened tone. They all hated watching you retreat into your shell. They knew that you thought it was too late for you to meet your soulmates and noticed how you stared at your soulmark when you thought no one was looking.

They just wanted you to be happy.

“That’s why I’m doing what I’m comfortable with. I’m going with you and Chaeyoungie to lunch and we’ll be there to hang out.” You appreciate their love and friendship, but you aren’t comfortable with putting yourself out there, even if it is to find your soulmates.

“And I’m happy you are going!” Sana squeals as she wraps her arms around your shoulders. “You never go to lunch with us!” She wasn’t wrong. It had been a long time since you had gone to lunch with one of your friends. You usually brought lunch with you and ate it in the back or went home to eat.

Within another five minutes you had made it to the restaurant, seeing Chaeyoung wave at you from her window seat. It seemed she made it early to grab you guys a table.

You smiled wide as you saw your younger friend. You both shared the same birthday; you only being born a year before. You bonded quickly over that, dubbing yourself the ‘birthday twins” after meeting.

“Youngie!!”

“Y/n-ie!” You both run to her, almost crashing into each other as you wrap your arms around your friend. You hadn’t seen her for a week, you both being busy with work and school.

When you let go, Sana was already at the table looking at the menu. Chaeyoung drags you over and has you sit next to her as she goes to hand you a menu as well.

“Okay so I already got our drinks. They should be coming soon.” Chaeyoung broke the silence from you looking at the menu. You hadn’t been to this restaurant before, but you know the girls frequented it a lot.

“So, what have you been up to Youngie?” You turn to her and ask.

“I’ve been finishing up my sculpture! It is almost done and I think I only need one or two more sessions before I can start glazing it.” Chaeyoung is in the middle of getting her art degree and is taking a ceramics class for the first time.

She was nervous when she first started, so you were happy to see her getting excited about it now that a couple months have passed. She was also in a photography course, which you knew she was even more excited for.

“What is your sculpture going to be?” You ask as your drinks arrive.

“She won’t tell us. She says it’s supposed to be a surprise.” Sana states, narrowing her eyes at her younger mate, a teasing glint in her voice. Chaeyoung begins to blush at her mate’s tone, rolling her eyes dramatically to deflect.

“Because it is. I wouldn’t have to keep it a secret if someone didn’t break my last sculpture on accident.” Chaeyoung accuses, looking directly at Sana as she spoke.

“Hey! It wasn’t my fault that Jihyo accidentally knocked into the vase!”

“Yes it was! If you weren’t trying to bite her shoulder then she wouldn’t have fallen into my vase!” You looked back and forth between the two, excitedly watching the drama unfold as the two continued on.

However, despite the growing entertainment, your stomach was rumbling with hunger and you needed to get food into your system or you were going to cry. You look around for your waiter only to notice something sticking out the back of a man’s jacket. It was black and shiny and had your nerves standing on end.

You looked up to see if you could recognize the man only for him to already be looking at you, a smirk resting on his lips as he winks at you. Your eyes widen as he moves to place his finger on his lips, a “be quiet” gesture.

You quickly turn to Sana and Chaeyoung who were still arguing over whose fault the broken vase was.

“We need to leave. Now.” Your quiet voice and urgent tone as their own figures freezing, turning to look at you to see you visibly shaken.

“What’s going on Y/n?” Sana asks you, leaning in closer to you over the table. You open your mouth to respond only for a scream of terror to cut you off.

You move to yank your friends under the table with you, hearing the words “freeze” and “get down” yelled all throughout the restaurant. Once you know that your friends are okay, huddled together under the table, you risk your courage and move slowly to peer out from under your cover.

There were three men standing up, guns in hand and aimed at who appears to be the owner of the restaurant. You can hear your ears ringing as you watch the scene play out in front of you.

“We told you. Boss gave you three weeks to give him the money back you owe him.” The one in front spoke, his voice slightly pitchy but nonetheless attractive as he spoke up, tone cold as he cocks his gun at the trembling man.

“I��I’m sorry Sirs! I’ll get you the money. I swear!” The man cries out, only for a gun shot to ring out.

One of the employees was trying to crawl past the men, passed you and to the door. You couldn’t look away as the man tried to crawl to you, hand grabbing onto your forearm where your marks were.

“help plea…” Another shot rang out as the man fell to the ground. You gasped, moving your hand to cover your mouth as you looked to your other, blood now smeared across your soulmarks as his hand continued to clutch onto you.

You could feel the tears falling down your cheeks as you look at the man, the life gone from his eyes as they now stare, unblinkingly at you. You could vaguely hear Chaeyoung and Sana calling your name, can feel the tugging on your shit stop once the footsteps start.

One of the men was now kneeling down in front of you, yanking the man’s arm off of you and grabbing you to stand up. He had a grin on his face, barely concealed by his lips moving.

“Poor baby. Let’s just clean that up.” He pulls you in the direction of the other men, both wearing their own smiles as they watch their partner drag you.

He pulls you and makes you stand in front of the owner, still crying as the guns aimed at him never faulted. He steadies you upright, hands on your shoulders as he make you face the owner.

“Can our sweetheart here clean up in the back? She’s got a little something on her arm.” Both you and the owner glance down at your arm, the reminder of red making more tears pool in your eyes. The man looks at you with a worried look, “sorry” written all over his features as he points to the back.

“Speak up!” One of the men behind you speaks, tone sharp as the owner jumps in his boots.

“You can go through there. The sink is to the right.”  He cries out, fists clenched to his sides as the man walks you forward past the counter where the man was standing. You can see his hand moving out, only for it to snap back to his side.

“Don’t touch her!” The same man shouts, a slight growl to his tone this time, like he was speaking through anger.

The one in the middle, the main leader it seemed, still hasn’t spoken. He just stares hard at the owner, almost begging him to move and give him the chance to shoot. It was unnerving as you had a full view of his face as you tried to scrub the blood off your forearm.

The man who grabbed you still stood behind you, flush against your back with his hands on your shoulders. You had no clue what he was doing or looking at, but you had to bite your lip to hold back your sobs.

“Do you need some help there, baby?” His voice was right next to your ear, causing you to flinch a little. The man just chuckled before reaching for your arm. You knew you couldn’t say no, couldn’t deny him when they had guns aimed at everyone.

You let him move you around so he could face you. While he was scrubbing at your mark, you took the time to study his appearance. He wore a long black coat that seemed designer from how nice the material looked. He was wearing jeans and some nice boots. His face though, was otherworldly.

He was beautiful. Ethereal even. His features were sharp, as if sculpted by the gods. He had a mole on his nose and if you looked closely enough, you could see one under his eye. He seemed to be smiling as he cleaned your arm, paying closer attention to one of the names on your mark, rubbing it with his thumb.

Once the blood was cleaned up, he held your hand in his and stood back up. You watched him nod to his partners who then got busy. Within seconds the owner was shot, and two of the employees who were there were in similar states, screams of terror and panic sounding from the eating area.

The man holding your hand had moved you passed the owner, making you step over him instead of moving around. You noticed Chaeyoung and Sana watching you with tear marks stained to their faces. You wanted to move to them, reassure them you were okay, but you didn’t know if that was true.

“Hello darling. Sorry about the mess.” The man who shot the owner was now smiling down at you, his smirk turning to a smile as he moves his hand to cup your cheek.

Jimin almost coos at you as he watches you shake. You didn’t even realize who they were. You were probably too focused on your fear to feel the tingles running up your spine at their hands touching you.

You can’t even speak you were petrified. Jimin knew you wouldn’t be like that for much longer, not when they brought you back. But it had to wait for now. There were too many witnesses and Namjoon would kill him if they harmed you in any way.

“Don’t worry, everything will be okay.” He squeezed your cheek in his grip before reluctantly pulling away.

“Are these your friends?” Your heart skipped as he gestured to Sana and Chaeyoung who were frozen, watching the scene in front of them. You nodded your head only for the tallest man to chuckle.

“Use your words, darling.” You couldn’t tell if the shiver you felt was from fear or something entirely different but nodded again.

“Yes sir. They are my friends.” You managed to whisper after trying to clear your throat.

“Good girl.” The leader spoke in your ear before turning back to your friends, motioning for them to stand up. They both slowly stood up, limbs locked from fear as they clung to each other.

“Now, why don’t you make sure our darling here gets home safe. We don’t want any more blood on her hands.” The men laugh at the joke, but the humor doesn’t reach you nor does it reach any other person in the building. You can still see one or two more customers hiding behind tables, watching everything unfold.

You don’t know why you were singled out, nor why the men smiled at you the way they did, but you figured they were just sick, finding everything funny as if they didn’t just shoot four people dead.

Jimin let everyone go free, knowing they couldn’t identify them even if they tried. No one would believe them anyways. They had the cameras shut down over an hour before they even arrived, Yoongi doing his job and more as he is probably already uncovering everything about you.

The three of them watch you walk out, shaking as you cling to your friends.

“She’ll be clinging to us soon enough.” Jungkook wraps an arm around Jimin’s waist, knowing exactly what his older mate was thinking. Taehyung nods his head in agreement.

“She had her eyes practically glued to me the entire time I was holding her. She even started to relax in my hold, not that she noticed.” Jimin quirked his eyebrow, smiling as he opened the door to the car.

“Such a sweet little thing. I know Jin is going to love her.” They all laugh, knowing just how much Jin is going to love their innocent soulmate.

“Probably won’t let her leave. He’ll keep her with him the first couple months maybe, spoil her rotten.” Jungkook quips back, a knowing glint to his eyes as he remembers his own first couple of months with his soul group.

“Oh, like you weren’t sucking his dick two months in!” Taehyung exclaimed, his head hitting the passenger side window as Jimin takes a sharp turn. Jungkook just shrugs his shoulders.

“Yeah, so. What’s your point?” Rolling his eyes, Jimin just reaches for his phone, hitting the first speed dial.

“Hey baby, we’ve found her.”

-*-*-

“Someone get her blanket for her!” You were pushed onto your sofa as Jihyo yelled out, motioning for your favorite blanket. It was a light blue, worn down from use but still felt as soft as the day you got it. You had brought it with you through three different moves and almost losing it to your grandmother’s dog a couple years back.

It was your comfort item and if there was ever a time where you needed it, it would be now.

Chaeyoung managed to text the group chat a SOS message, letting them know what happened. And while they were all worried for everyone, Sana made sure to let them know exactly what happened when you got to your apartment and everyone was waiting for you.

“Here you go, Bunnie.” Nayeon handed you your blanket before taking her seat next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and almost bringing you into her lap. They were all scared and worried for you.

“Why you? Out of everyone in the restaurant? Why you?” Jeongyeon asked the most obvious question, something the others didn’t really want to think about.

“It was weird. Once the man started crawling to her, I noticed the robbers get really angry, like visibly shaking before one of them shot the man.” Chaeyoung spoke up from her place on Mina’s lap. Her voice quiet as she goes through her memory of the events.

“And then one of them walked up to her, pulled her up and helped her clean her arm of the uh, of the blood.” Sana choked out, adding onto what Chaeyoung was saying.

“Did they say anything to you Y/n?” Momo asked, leaning on her knees as she moves so she can look directly at you.

“They just…kept trying to take care of me, calling me pet names and asking if I was okay.” You were unsure of everything that happened. You felt like your brain was making things up, trying to twist the events so you weren’t traumatized. You almost felt like you were lying to yourself.

However, one thing stuck in your head, no matter how many times you tried to forget about it.

“When the man helped me clean my arm, he kept rubbing at my soulmark.” Your words stump the others, shock moving through your friends as you stare at the pillow on your lap. No one knew what to say or think.

“He was probably just shocked by the number of names on your mark. You know it’s not really common to have a huge soulgroup like we do.” Nayeon reassured you. She knew exactly where your mind was going.

You were wondering if these men were your soulmates. No one besides regulars at work have ever been that caring and nice upon meeting you, especially when they were robbing the establishment where you were eating.

“Yeah, let’s not worry about it. They probably just saw an opportunity to make someone uncomfortable and took it.” Dahyun agreed with Nayeon, but her reassurance was light, as if she wasn’t really sure she believed her own words.

“How about this, let’s just order some pizza and watch movies. A girls night, like when we were younger. It’ll get your mind off of everything.” Tzuyu’s quiet voice spoke up in the silence, watching all of her unnies stew in their worry. She knew there was nothing they could do for now, so they needed a distraction.

“That’s sounds great baby! I’ll order our usual.” Jihyo gets up from her spot and moves to grab her phone while Dahyun and Jeongyeon crawl form their positions on your floor to your bookshelf, all of your movies lined up on the black piece of furniture.

Part 2

[dramioneficrecommendations]

Best Draco/Hermione Fics Dramione Shippers Read in 2020

A few days ago, I asked you what were the best Dramione fics you'd read in 2020. Here's the huge list of your excellent recs (in alphabetical order):

A Creature Most Unusual by JMilz: Draco Malfoy is on a mission. Unfortunately, Hermione Granger catches him in the act. When she sees that he has adopted a rather unusual magical creature, she becomes determined to make sure he takes care of it. Little does she know, the animal may hold her key to eternal glory . . . and a whirlwind romance. M, 9 Chapters, 24,460 Words

A Little More Alive, Far Less Lost by MGL_Dramione_Lover: After Draco's post-war trial, he finds himself attending his 8th year at Hogwarts with Hermione. As remorse and acceptance replace anger and hate, the old enemies begin a friendship that sparks into much more than they ever hoped for. Hermione's goal as Head Girl is to banish old prejudices and unite the school while Draco's only wish is to become a man worthy of her love. M, 22 Chapters, 84,823

A New Light by mithrilstarlight: Draco spent six years doing his best to keep his head down. Then he runs into Hermione Granger. Turns out, they actually have a lot in common.Chapters posted M/W/F. T, 18 Chapters, 33,876 Words

A Second Look by RiverWriter: Her best friend's life was a mess and she would have done anything to make things better for him and his sons. So, when she found her former enemy in a similar situation her heart went out to him as well... and the beautiful blond baby in his arms didn't hurt his case. It was certainly enough for her to give him a second look. M, 30 Chapters, 127,243 Words

All that is Rare by smithandbarrowman: In the wizarding world, it has long been assumed that men are Alphas and women are Omegas. However, when Hermione Granger discovers that assumptions are rarely factual, her status as one of only a handful of female alphas that has ever existed has men falling at her feet.But there’s only one man she wants, and like the male alphas before her, the hunt is on until he bears her mark. E, 31 Chapters, 119,755 Words

All the Wrong Things by LovesBitca8: Sequel to "The Right Thing to Do" - Draco's POV. Part 2 of the "Rights and Wrongs" series. E, 24 Chapters, 160,297 Words

All You Want by senlinyu: Eighth Year at Hogwarts was supposed to be Hermione’s. And it is, just not in the way she expects. Omegaverse fic. E, 36 Chapters, 172,651

apples & cream by LovesBitca8: She could have taken her things and gone through his Floo without a word. She could have ignored him on Monday morning, as though last night had been no more than a fever dream and too much Firewhisky. But she’d come back to bed. Inspired by the lovely NikitaJuice's "apples & cream." E, 1 Chapter, 1,426 Words

Beginning and End by mightbewriting: Years. Broken into months into weeks into days—into hours, minutes, seconds—into moments. Simple at one end, complex at the other. In Draco’s experience, moments, even when simple, had a habit of becoming irretrievable. Moments grew, stretched, multiplied into ages and eras that defined whole stretches of measurable time. Draco regretted several moments in his life, some within his control, some without: all of them irretrievable in nature. At a certain point, wedged between ‘what-ifs’ of his own devising, he’d stopped trying to keep track of those regrettable moments: now and then, pushing and pulling, coming and going, beginning and end. Moments were only moments for just as long. After that, he had no control. A Draco POV prequel to Wait and Hope. E, 48 Chapters, 242,100 Words

Bells on a Hill by HeyJude19: Left by his fiancée a month before the ceremony, Draco never got his dream wedding, so agreeing to assist Granger with her own wedding planning to distract himself from his broken engagement seems like a great idea—though Draco probably shouldn't fall in love with the bride-to-be. Based very (very) loosely on The Wedding Singer. T, WIP

Bending Light by scullymurphy: Draco Malfoy was in exile, though they called it protection. It was the summer after sixth year and he'd taken Dumbledore's offer, defected to the other side and been sent away to a small town in Italy for his troubles. No magic, few rules, and not a lot to do - until Hermione Granger showed up. M, WIP

Break for me by Ada_P_Rix: COMPLETE _______________ "-I told them this wouldn’t work.” He cut in through gritted teeth as he kept his eyes on Hermione, making her pulse quicken and she couldn’t help but clench her thighs together at the rough, husky tone of his voice. He didn’t miss it; his eyes landed on her thighs and they darkened even further. “I can’t help her when all I feel like I want to do is pin her down and fuck her into the mattress.” _______________ Hermione gets into a little accident at work and is infected with a hybrid potion created to cause certain heightened side effects. Draco offers to stick around to give his work partner a little support ... if he can Occlude long enough to resist her... E, 7 Chapters, 45,107 Words

Breath Mints / Battle Scars by Onyx_and_Elm: For a moment, she's almost giddy. Because Draco Malfoy's been ruined by this war and he's as out of place as she is and — yes, he has scars too. He's got an even bigger one. She wonders whether one day they'll compare sizes. E, 51 Chapters, 148,908 Words

Bring Him to His Knees by Musyc: Draco is on the case of a murderer, but to investigate, he needs a fake relationship - and a kink club play partner. When Hermione volunteers to take the role, both do their best to maintain the lie without letting each other know the truth: neither of them are acting. E, WIP

Calendar Boys by anne_ammons, Nadiapolyakova (Rijaya83): She had thrown out the idea on a lark, but now Hermione Granger was tasked with bringing the charity calendar to life. What was one more thing on her list? An art/writing collaboration between nadiapolyakova and anne_ammons - twelve photos and a piece of the story behind them. M, WIP

Cherry Mint by dirtymudblood: "He could smell her. Even multiple train cars away, he could smell her. Except, Draco didn’t know who she was. He ignored his natural instincts to pant like a dog and follow the scent to the omega in the beginning stages of heat. Instead he willed himself to rub his knuckles against the rough wood of the table in front of him." E, 27 Chapters, 58,081 Words

Dark Water and Dying Eyebrights by bexchan: One of them is desperately trying to remember their past while the other is forever trying to escape theirs. It's seven years after the war and Draco has managed to avoid almost everyone from Hogwarts, living a lonely life on a small island, far away from the wizarding community. But a familiar face in a cafe window capsizes his world into chaos. Dramione. EWE. Memory fic. M, WIP

Difficult by provocative envy: COMPLETE: "I should," I repeated. "But I don't want to." And then he smiled, and I was wrecked. HG/DM. M, 30 Chapters, 87,041 Words

Don't Look Back by Onyx_and_Elm: It’s the smell of it. Chemical. Bitter and sharp as a raw edge on metal. Just a hint of it as she passes him at breakfast — but enough to stop her dead, mid-step. There is Wolfsbane in his tea. E, WIP

Don't Threaten Me with a Good Time by monsterleadmehome: She scoffs. “If you must know, he ‘elected’ me because he thinks our shared animosity will keep you in check. He’s also not worried about you trying to shag me as a distraction.” He leans back, stubbing out his cigarette on the banister. His eyes rove over her from crown to toe and back. She lifts her chin and tries not to shiver. “Well, he’s right about that.” Lucius Malfoy hires Hermione Granger to whip his son into shape so he can find a pure-blood bride and receive his inheritance. What could go wrong? E, 10 Chapters, 48,092 Words

Draco's Gift by TriDogMom: Draco gives Hermione a gift because of an instructional YouTube video. M, 1 Chapter, 1,705 Words

Dragon in the Dark by GracefulLioness: The battle is won, Voldemort is dead, but the war is far from over. In the new Death Eater regime, Draco Malfoy does what he must to survive and keep his mother safe. Now a highly trained assassin, Draco has learned to think of his targets as inhuman beings, but when he is tasked with killing someone from his past, he can no longer hide from the horrors of the world around him. E, 31 Chapters, 164,782 Words

For a Present Under the Tree by grace_lou_freebush: When Draco and Hermione eloped, the Wizarding World turned against them. Hermione is stuck in a low level, low paying Ministry job with no hope of upward movement. Draco can't even convince someone to hire him. Now, it's Christmas, and Draco knows Hermione deserves the world - or at the least a Christmas gift. He finds the perfect hair comb to replace the horrid Muggle brush she's been making due with, and he'll do anything to afford the paltry present so he can have something to put under the Christmas tree for his wife. Making a beeline for the jewelry box containing the hair combs, Draco rifled through them, landing on an ivory comb with queen anne rose carvings and gold filigree detailing. He brought it to the startled shopkeeper and set it down gently. Pulling his sixth generation Malfoy heirloom pocket watch from his coat, he shoved it in the wizard's face without second guessing himself. "I would like to make an exchange." E, 1 Chapter, 10,141 Words

Fortuitous by MrsRen: Recently divorced Draco doesn't believe in the ideology of having one true love. He certainly doesn't expect to meet his match in a Halloween themed coffee shop, but fate has a peculiar way of giving you just what you need. M, 13 Chapters, 93,695 Words

Fuck, Marry, Avada by Lilian_Silver: Some years after the war, the gang meets up at the Leaky to play a silly game, with very real consequences. E, 1 Chapter, 3,106 Words

Give Me An Hour by RZZMG: As the war continues to rage on around them, Hermione Granger decides to seduce fellow Order Member, Draco Malfoy, one night while at Grimmauld Place... and everything between them changes after that. Fic follows the "five times" trope, and is dedicated to raspberryjukebox. One-shot. A/U-Extended War scenario. Dramione. Drama-Romance-Hot Shag! COMPLETE! M, 1 Chapter, 3,251 Words

Good Girl by arabellaleyes: Hermione is tired of their normal routine in the bedroom. What will happen when she asks Draco to spice things up? One-shot. Complete. M, 1 Chapter, 9,000 Words

Hindsight by floorcoaster: It's a New Year and Hermione decides it's time to make some changes. T, 12 Chapters, 167,694 Words

How to Love Thy Neighbour by WhatSoMalfoy: After her relationship with Ron falls apart, Hermione attempts to juggle a personal muggle life with a professional wizarding one. After encountering her high school nemesis in the most unlikely place, Hermione adds another ball to the juggling mix. M, 14 Chapters, 41,992 Words

How to Move On by longdistance: It's been nearly a decade since the war. A long time since she locked herself away. A long time since he faced his mistakes. She's what he wants. He's what she needs. It's time for both of them to figure out how to move on. M, WIP

Hydrotherapy by eilonwy: Draco finds a trip to the showers after playing Quidditch... enlightening. E, 2 Chapters, 7,163 Words

I Choose You by melanoradrood: At the end of Fifth Year, Hermione finds out why It is that none have approached her with a Marital Contract, the only way she can remain in the Wizarding World after Graduation. It has already been signed by her Magical Guardian, someone she has never met - she is to be the next Lady Malfoy. A year and a half later, she is a married witch, but still, Draco Malfoy, who had chosen her above all others, had not spoken of it. In fact, they barely spoke at all. And when trouble heads their way, Hermione means to change that. Really, she means to change a lot of things. E, 5 Chapters, 24,527 Words

Isolation by Bex-chan: He can't leave the room. Her room. And it's all the Order's fault. Confined to a small space with only the Mudblood for company, something's going to give. Maybe his sanity. Maybe not. "There," she spat. "Now your Blood's filthy too!" DM/HG. PostHBP. Now complete with epilogue. M, 49 Chapters, 284,050 Words

It Happened in Egypt by bionically: Wandless in Egypt: Draco's stranded in Egypt, but luckily, there's a Granger in sight. Now, if only he could be prevented from strangling her. Fun times abroad: It was supposed to be a leisurely solo trip down the Nile. Hermione didn't factor in one blond man from her past and all his drama. Then, of course, there's the fact that everyone's after him. Much hilarity ensues. Maybe. *** A rom-com adventure/mystery featuring two unwilling partners on the run from Lucius Malfoy, alien-hunters, Muggle police, and local wizards engaged in a civil war. T, WIP

Love and Other Misfortunes by senlinyu: Draco Malfoy is dying. He's part-Veela and needs his mate to survive. Post-war, Hermione Granger is a workaholic, up to her eyeballs in legal activism on behalf of Magical Beings, and hasn't yet noticed that Malfoy is the Magical Being who needs her most. “Because I don’t want to be saved by you just because you feel like you have to.” He was properly furious now. “I’m in love with you." Hermione stared at him. She knew but somehow hearing him say it made the air shimmer with magic. "I’m in love with you,” he said again, despairingly. “And that means I want you to be as happy as you possibly can. And you won’t be, not with me.” M, 23 Chapters, 98,584 Words 

Manacled by senlinyu: Harry Potter is dead. In the aftermath of the war, in order to strengthen the might of the magical world, Voldemort enacts a repopulation effort. Hermione Granger has an Order secret, lost but hidden in her mind, so she is sent as an enslaved surrogate to the High Reeve until her mind can be cracked.Now illustrated by Avendell. E, 77 Chapters, 370,473 Words

Measure Of A Man by inadaze22: To truly know someone is to differentiate between who they once were, who they are now, and who they're capable of being. Hermione realises the duality of one man as she rectifies what she knows of the past and begins to understand the pieces of who Draco Malfoy is now: a father, a son, and a man. E, WIP

Meet the Malfoys by raven_maiden: 4 Works, 21, 442 Words

of flavoured names and coloured sounds by Pink Panda (Ejacyeolation): "He doesn’t question it at first, the fact that sounds have colours and words have flavours. He grows up with it, grows up seeing powerful ruptures of colour when his mother plays the piano and softer, translucent bursts when the people around him speak. His father’s voice fills his vision with sombre oranges and lilacs while his mother’s is a pleasant mix of delicate greens, blues, and greys. The word father tastes like wet wood and the word mother tastes like the pumpkin juice the house-elves frequently serve him."In which Draco just wants to know what colour Hermione's moans would be. He also wants to know if her skin would taste as sweet as her surname or maybe as intoxicating as her given name. E, 2 Chapters, 10,351

Once Upon a Night by longdistance: One night will change everything. M, 17 Chapters, 57,444 Words

One and Done by PacificRimbaud: Hermione Granger has a career she loves, friends she can depend on, and a nice set of hand towels for her new flat. She's single and tired of tiresome men, but that doesn't stop her from wearing beautiful lingerie underneath her serious Ministry skirts. Or having pictures taken in naughty knickers. Just once. For herself. Draco Malfoy doesn't get upset at the sight of blood, which is good, because he sees a lot of it. What he doesn't see a lot of is Hermione Granger in her unmentionables. Usually. A series of meetings and mix-ups in which one cannot possibly mean done. E, 4 Chapters, 35,011 Words

Our shared silence by Vofastudum: She wakes up one morning and everyone is just gone, vanished like they never existed at all. Everyone but Him. And in this silent solitude, he's all she has. Hermione and Draco alone in empty castle. Mystery and a plot twist you didn't see coming! EDITED 10/2020 M, 17 Chapters, 40,149 Words

Pinned by bionically: Draco doesn't know what he's expecting when he follows Blaise down a dark alley, but it certainly isn't this. For a man with an addictive personality, this isn't going to turn out well. Assigned trope: Voyeurism *** Or, a chance encounter with a frizzy-haired witch from his misbegotten past in the last place anyone should have expected to see her sets Draco's disordered life on its ear. The path to redemption is truly paved with unexpected surprises. E, 20 Chapters, 110,886 Words

Really Sell It by RoseHarperMaxwell: Draco's having a rough eighth year, and Hermione's going to make it better for him. "Well, it’s clear what needs to happen.” She gripped his chin, tilting his head to make sure she hadn’t missed any injuries, before looking straight into his eyes. “You’re my boyfriend now.” *Featuring fake dating, exhibitionism, and sex-positive Hermione Granger. Submission for Farewell to Summer: The 31 Flavors of Smut Fest. E, 1 Chapters, 7,612 Words

Remain Nameless by HeyJude19: How did it feel? It felt like he was barely holding it together. She, of all people, should shun him. Or yell at him. Curse him. Spit at him. Take out her wand and blast him off the face of the earth. It was crushing guilt and relief and confusion all at once when he looked at Hermione Granger. The monotony of Draco’s daily routine had become both a lifeline and a noose. But this new habit of grabbing coffee with Hermione Granger is quickly becoming a reason to get out of bed and is unfortunately forcing him to re-evaluate his inconsequential existence. Hermione is living her life in fragments, separate pieces scattered about, and she can’t find a way to step back and let the full picture form. Why are morning meetings with Draco Malfoy the only thing that make sense anymore? E, 51 Chapters, 312,315 Words

Remember Us As War (but call us forgiveness) by Anyaparadox: Following the devastation of the Battle of Hogwarts, The Wizarding Population Growth Act is put into effect. All witches and wizards will be matched with their most compatible partner. Failure to comply will not be tolerated. Survival is key. Hermione reminds herself of this. Survival. She can fix this, if only she can survive. The war has made this a task she is equipped for. Marrying Draco Malfoy will hardly be the worst thing she's ever endured. M, WIP

Ring A Ring O' Roses by Gallivant: Dark Magic, Dark Wizards and a mysterious and deadly Dark Flux, which, in the wrong hands, has the terrifying potential to mass-murder Muggles and Muggle-borns ... It’s been fourteen years since the end of the Second Wizarding War and the Wizarding World is settled, stable and seemingly safe… Hermione Weasley has it all: a loving family, a successful career - and happiness… of sorts. But a series of unexpected events is about to turn her life upside-down, threatening those she loves, fatally undermining the peace between worlds that has prevailed for centuries … changing life as she knows it, possibly forever. If working with Draco Malfoy was the last thing Hermione Weasley ever wanted, falling for your enemy was the least expected. A quest to thwart a magical weapon of mass destruction has devastating consequences. A race to save the world, becomes a race to save themselves… M, 65 Chapters, 527,141 Chapters

Set Fire to the Rain by HarleyQuinn1317: What happens when the one you're destined for is the last person you should ever be with... When the Ministry of Magic asks for volunteers for their Marriage Initiative, Hermione Granger must come to terms with the one terrible deed she committed during the Second Wizarding War. Can she find it in her heart to forgive herself and finally learn to let love in? E, WIP

Sex and Occlumency by Graendoll: Hermione didn't escape from the war unscathed, and when she finally decides on a solution to her problems she's left to explore it on her own. A chance encounter with Draco Malfoy sets her world on it's head and leads her down a path towards healing that she would never have anticipated. E, 18 Chapters, 65,079 Words

The Art of Seating Etiquette by inadaze22: Hermione believes that every problem has a solution, and that solution can be found in a book. That is, until Draco starts sitting to her right every Friday. She has no answers until help comes in the form of an unlikely source: Ron Weasley. E, 1 Chapter, 9,734 Words

The Auction by LovesBitca8: In the wake of the Dark Lord’s triumph over Harry Potter, the defeated must learn their new place. Hermione Granger, former Golden Girl, has been captured and reduced to human chattel. Sold to the highest bidder as the top prize at an auction of Order members and sympathizers, she is thrust into the rabid, waiting hands of the Death Eaters. But despite the horrors of Voldemort’s new world, help—and hope—seem to arise from the most unlikely of places. PART 3 of the RIGHTS AND WRONGS series. E, 41 Chapters, 325,702 Words

The Binding by Curly_Kay: “Okay, what we know so far.” Hermione listed, "One, our magic is drawing us together. Two, we can use each other’s wands. Three, there were actual sparks when you touched me."After an infant binding ritual magically joins Hermione and Draco to counteract the Black family blood curse, they must navigate the secret binding through their years together at Hogwarts. E, 35 Chapters, 175,451 Words

The Carnal Club by Ada_P_Rix: COMPLETE The Halloween Ball is fast approaching with Hermione at the helm.... What a delightful time to suddenly learn of a centuries old secret sex-game club that is currently ran by a Blonde haired Slytherin. Oh, and it only happens once a year every October, when the winner takes all at the Halloween Ball ...The First Rule of Carnal Club: You do not talk about Carnal Club. E, 8 Chapters, 43,306 Words

The Disappearances of Draco Malfoy by Speechwriter (batmansymbol): The night that Harry and Dumbledore return from the cave, the Death Eaters are delayed from reaching the top of the Astronomy Tower for one more minute. Draco Malfoy lowers his wand. A Deathly Hallows rewrite in which Draco accepts Dumbledore's offer to fake his death and go into hiding with the Order of the Phoenix. T, WIP

The Erised Effect by Ada_P_Rix: Hermione and Pansy work in a shop together. Draco, Harry, Theo and Blaise all work together at the Ministry. They all meet up every Friday at the pub to have drinks. Pansy has a new fantasy potion that she likes to call 'The Erised Effect' that she's keen to try out on willing participants ... Boys are so easy to manipulate when alcohol is involved .... E, 13 Chapters, 88,852 Words

The Fallout by everythursday: Hermione learns about growing up through the redemption of Draco Malfoy. E, 49 Chapters, 310,229 Words

The Figures of Figuring Out by Vofastudum: You were the biggest riddle in my life. You were the one I couldn't figure out. You were the only thing I couldn't find a pattern to. You were something I couldn't look up from any book. Unwritten, with no instructions. And I was used to finding solutions! Post-war eight-year secret romance. Edited 12/2020 M, 13 Chapters, 26,951 Words

The Flat in Bath by Ada_P_Rix: Loosely inspired by 365 Days...-- Malfoy grabbed her chin, forcing her to look directly at him. “Don’t you dare, Granger...” He told her roughly as his intense gaze bored into her own. “I fucking forbid you to come until I’ve had enough of you...” Draco caught her cheeks now between the fingers of his free hand and then snapped her head to the side and licked her earlobe, trailing down to her jawline. “...one flutter of those delicious walls of yours and you’re going to wish you never opened your legs for me.” -- __________________ Hermione is kidnapped during a raid and taken captive by someone who doesn't plan on 'torturing' her in the conventional way... E, WIP

The Gloriana Set by ThebeMoon: The War is won, and Hermione Granger is back at Hogwarts as an “Eighth Year”, feeling reckless and determined to shed her prim bookworm persona. She will do as she pleases, and anyone who doesn’t like it will see the business end of her wand. Also returning is Draco Malfoy, universally hated but determined to restore his family’s name. Hermione’s hopes for a quiet school year are quickly dashed as she contends with mischievous First Years, killer plants, enchanted hair accessories, a totally inappropriate Moaning Myrtle, renegade Death Eaters, a nice vampire, a poorly named study group, a depraved party, and mysterious, threatening blood messages on the castle walls. We have redemption, partial redemption and (sadly or hilariously) no redemption at all. Throw in a snarky, disturbingly attractive Draco with his own secret agenda, and we have a very slow-burn Dramione with a side of who-dun-it. COMPLETE! M, 81 Chapters, 271,830 Words

The Library of Alexandria by senlinyu: The Library of Alexandria is not for just any witch or wizard. Many bookworms may try but few are permitted to pass through its doors. The books residing there are ancient and powerful and, if one happens to make a mistake, the consequences can be rather—novel. E, 6 Chapters, 26,383 Words

The List by AureliaBlack90: After her divorce, Hermione decides to get out of town to recover from the pain of her lost relationship and the miscarriage she suffered a year previously. She arrives in the Cotswolds depressed and aimless but compiles a list of things to do that she hopes will help her get back on her feet. In the midst of her journey to find healing she keeps running into Draco Malfoy, who is nothing like she remembered him. He invites her into his world, and Hermione finds exactly what she was looking for - in the place she least expected it. E, 10 Chapters, 70,526 Words

The Manuscript by alexandra_emerson: Five 1/2 years after the war, in the middle of a big fight with Draco, Hermione finds a manuscript. It’s a retelling of her and Draco’s love story, written by him. She never realized how much he was struggling before she read his words. Snippet: I could spend my whole life apologizing to you Hermione, and it would never be enough. Post-war, angst-filled Dramione with a happy ending. M, 21 Chapters, 154,918 Words

The Memory of You by PotionChemist: Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger fell in love against all odds, but there was one big problem — he was already married. Pressured, Hermione does something she promised herself she would never do again and erases their affair from his memory. Completely devastated, she avoids seeing Draco or the Malfoys at all costs. But is their love too strong? Are they inevitable? What will happen if he finds out about their previous relationship? E, WIP

The Mountain and The Sea by AlexisDanaan: Hermione Granger was perfectly happy with her life, her job as a Healer Trainee, her ugly cat and her cute little house in the countryside. And then Draco Malfoy had to go and mess that all up, typical git. Post-Hogwarts, EWE, OOC, creature!fic. E, 12 Chapters, 40,441 Words

The Nietzsche Classes by Beringae: The Ministry takes action against the remaining prejudice in the wizarding society and asks Hermione for help. “What do you want? Money? Power? Name your price, Granger. I’m not about to let pride get in my way when an Azkaban sentence is on the line.” M, 15 Chapters, 45,807 Words

The Phoenix Potion by FedonCiadale: Twenty years after the battle of Hogwarts.... Harry is head auror and is worried about cases where Muggleborn children meet with accidents, Ron is a famous Quidditch keeper. Both haven't talked to Hermione for ages and certainly not to her husband, Draco Malfoy. Narcissa Malfoy struggles with a curse, and Neville and Luna try to stay friends with all. The key to solving the problems may lie in the past, a time nobody really wants to revisit and some can't. T, 111 Chapters, 237,745 Words

The Potioneers by omnenomnom: They need each other unfortunately. Hermione has tricked Draco under her tutelage, arrogant attitude and all. But she would be simple to think he would accept it quietly. They have both have secrets to hide, old wounds better left to fester, and a world full of mermaids, dragons, and magic to explore. T, 53 Chapters, 196,559 Words

The Pretense by Colubrina: Voldemort died, but the Death Eaters live on. Hermione Granger traded herself to Draco Malfoy in exchange for safe passage for core Order members. Now he's pretending to love her, Narcissa is pretending to believe that, and Hermione is walking a tightrope behind enemy lines as she figures out what is going on. Unfortunately, people fall off tightropes. (no non-con) T, 50 Chapters, 108,164 Words

The Right Thing To Do by LovesBitca8: Hermione felt the pounding in her ears again. She would see him for the first time since the Great Hall, gaunt and stricken at the Slytherin table with his mother clutching his arm. She hadn't meant to look for him. Not in the corridors, not beneath the white sheets of the fallen, not on the way to the Chamber of Secrets with Ron, but she was a stupid girl. E, 36 Chapters, 174,911 Words

The Seven Year Witch by TheLastLynx: A boy and a girl have been meeting – coincidentally – for seven summers. While they pretty much hate one another most of the year, for those secret summer moments, they manage to see each other in a different light. But will that be enough to bring them together? A Dramione story about growing up and changing perspective, told along - and in-between - the lines of canon. M, WIP

Thirty Times Lucky by galfoy: "Granger, I can't hire you on any longer," Draco said. Hermione stared at him. Losing her job might actually mean losing the War, and she had to bargain, but there was literally nothing she had that he would want. Or was there? M, 2 Chapters, 7,128 Words

Traditions by raven_maiden: She straddled him slowly, still biting her lip, her hands on his shoulders. He held her hips tightly as he stared up at her. “So beautiful,” he whispered, and she flushed prettily, like she always did from his compliments. “You never need to hide from me.” ** Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy fell in love during the war. One year later, they're heading home for the holidays so he can finally meet her parents. There's just one teeny little problem: her parents think they're both Muggles. E, 14 Chapters, 68,767 Words

Waifs and Strays by Kyonomiko: War leaves a lot of orphans in its wake. Hermione is one, by her own hand, and she struggles with the realities of her situation. When she finds an orphaned familiar, it seems meant to be, giving and receiving comfort helping to heal her fractured heart. Unfortunately, the animal is actually a wizard, and he has his own issues. M, 31 Chapters, 118,152 Words

What You Think Is Right by icepower55: Six years after the war, Hermione parents are dying and her marriage to Draco is crumbling. Nothing seems logical in her life anymore. Her healer tells her to start writing about it, so she does, as a way to figure things out, and remind herself along the way. Hell is proximity without intimacy -Dante's Inferno M, WIP

When the Bell Tolls by everythursday: As a Dark revival begins to rise four years after the war, Hermione Granger is placed on the assignment of putting an end to them – and her first task is to recruit the Ministry's best hope and last option in the form of Draco Malfoy. E, 20 Chapters, 148,033 Words

Wreck by JMilz: Serving as Minister for Magic, Hermione Granger is finally at the peak of her career. With a beautiful family, a successful book, and the public on her side, her life should be a fairytale. Unfortunately, there is trouble in paradise, and when Draco Malfoy pays her a visit, she begins recalling their history and questioning her marriage. The reality is: every relationship is hard. M, 53 Chapters, 187,992 Words

Thanks to every person who contributed (I hope I've mentioned everyone. If not, let me know. 😊): @certified-arsehole @fedonciadale kiwim22 @really-sad-devil-guy endless-musings @headfullofnargles @pinksunsets-world @rosseliz01 @dramioneden @all-consuming @elricsister @injailoutsoon12 reclusivebird @mariakov81 @notthatchhavi @mordanbooqs @haaatch @hpsassenach @ybaeby @farmgirl-in @coyg-81 @eiramrelyat metterschling-plus-two @a-maidens-fantasy @sansacat @vofastudum @lexayeon @1800-rewrite @aneiria-writes @anonymouslydramione 

It took much longer to compile this list than I thought it would. Hopefully, I didn’t skip anything. 🙈

Happy New Year. May it be better than the previous one and full of great Dramione fics and fanarts! 🥳🥳🥳

And here’s the 2019 list: https://dramioneficrecommendations.tumblr.com/post/190216354767/what-is-the-best-dramione-fic-you-read-in-2019

[niennanir]

Okay, so this looks bad

My friend asked if I had all the Christmas decorations up and I said no. Why not, she wondered. A lot of little things, I replied. What’s that supposed to mean? she asked.

Setting up my Christmas Village takes me less than an hour and it’s one of my favorite decorations. I got the blanks for the snow village from a ceramics shop and painted them myself, so I’m understandably fond. I got down the box marked “snow village” and opened it, inside were the eight tiny ceramic houses, their lights, the resin lake that resides at the center of the tiny town square and nothing else. No snow blanket, no trees, nothing. 

You can’t set up a Christmas village without a snow blanket so I got the ladder back out and climbed to the top shelf of the closet to check all seven Christmas decoration bins. I label all my bins very carefully because I’m like that. None of them are labeled ‘snow village part 2′. All are empty. 

Fine, I thought to myself, my mother has a snow blanket spilling out of the top of her tree stand collar. I’ll borrow hers and buy her a new one when I go out. She might not even notice. 

I take my purloined blanket and lay it out on the shelf. This one, however, doesn’t have holes cut in it for the lights so my 45 minute project, already running over due to a search operation, will now be even longer as I measure out lights. I plug in the first strand, two of four lights are out. 

Fine. I go back to the closet, climb back up the ladder and get down The ‘Bin of Bulbs’. Inside are roughly thirty thousand fairly light replacement bulbs of varying sizes. Of these bulbs eleven are C7′s. All of them are either red or orange, so my choices are now Christmas Village: Haunted Edition and Christmas Village: California Wildfire.

I put the ‘Bin of Bulbs’ back. I once more go to my mother’s room. She has one of those salt lamps that takes C7 bulbs. I rifle though her sock drawer until I find a small box containing roughly two dozen C7 bulbs. I briefly consider what’s going to happen when she catches me and then remember that I have little to no sense of self preservation. 

I replace the two burned out bulbs, check the other strand and sigh in satisfaction. I spend the next half hour cutting carefully spaced holes in a snow blanket and threading bulbs through the holes. I place the last house, unplug the lamp that normally sits on this shelf and plug the lights into its remote control switch that I hang on the wall near the door. I press the button that turns on the lights. They glow to life inside their tiny ceramic homes.

There is a sizzle and a pop and the acrid smell of smoke. Reflexively I hit the off button but I needn't have bothered. All the lights are now out. I remove about half the houses before I find the culprit. I replace the bulb, stand back five feet, and flinch as I press the on button again.

Nothing happens. 

I spend ten minutes unplugging and plugging an extension cord only to find out the light blowing out destroyed my $30 remote switch unit. 

I nope right out of this project and  go on Amazon and buy a new remote switch.

It has now been three hours. I give it up as a bad job and go to bed.

When I get up in the morning I make coffee. After the first sip I stand for a moment, staring into the middle distance. Then I get the ladder out, haul it to the craft cupboard and climb to the top shelf where there is a bin marked ‘Christmas Projects’

Inside are all my trees and my snow blanket as well as a package of new trees I bought at an after Christmas sale. On the top of the bin is a note that says; work on Snow Village October 1.

I get out my phone and open my calendar to October 1. There is a cheerful reminder that says ‘Work on Snow Village’ at 2pm. 

When I did not have electric

Or Internet

Because there had been a hurricane three days before.

I am now sitting on the sofa, gluing small pieces of snow blanket to the bases of tiny trees. It’s the very last of the Christmas decorations. 

And this is why I’m not done decorating.

[aghostpost]

An Indecent Proposal (Kento Nanami x Reader)

A/N: This is gonna be multiple chapters, just a heads up! For all my jjk lovers and Nanami simps (self included duh)! This is chapter 1. Hope you enjoy~ ♥

4:28 in the afternoon. That’s two and a half hours of unofficial overtime.

“Shauna, I need dinner reservations tomorrow night at Edo for 7, 7:30 at the latest. I want the back room, and for the love of everything holy, do not seat us near the restrooms.”

“You want a last minute dinner rez at one of the busiest restaurants in the city on a Saturday night. Did I get that right?”

“I’ve seen you make miracles happen before.”

That makes a total of about seven and a half hours of overtime over the last three days.

“Yup, I’ll have everything emailed to you before we dive back in Monday morning.”

Now that I think about it, I’ve been going nonstop for what? Eight, nine days now? Holy fuck. If I wasn’t getting a commission the size of Atlas’ biceps I would have passed this client off months ago.

“Great job, guys. Enjoy the casino, enjoy the hotel. Relax, grab some drinks; you all earned it.”

I was actually the one that deserved it. Hell, I deserved an all expenses paid vacation, sunbathing butt naked on a yacht sailing the French Riviera.

I sighed. There was no sense in dwelling on anything at all that would not expedite this casino deal trip. Whining didn’t pay the bills or for my Mercedes to get detailed. In fact, overtime is exactly what did, no matter how much it sapped every drop of energy I had stored inside these tired ol’ bones. The herd thinned in the hotel conference room, everyone filing out after another long day of negotiations until I was the last man standing. I sighed, taking a seat at the head of the long mahogany table, gently twisting myself from side-to-side. I closed my eyes in deep thought, taking advantage of the moment’s peace I was finally given.

I just needed to make it through this weekend. Myself and a small team of associates were tasked by our law firm with overseeing our client’s purchase of the Paradisio Casino. Technically it was a conveyance, since our client bought out the place from the previous owner, but that was neither here nor there. We’d been working on this deal for months and finally, after this last week of finalizing agreements and signing this or that contract, running over every document with a fine tooth comb, we were wrapping up our business. Typically I didn’t opt to spearhead teams for acquisitions of this magnitude; the daily migraines and babysitting of interns and the few newborn junior associates was more than enough to choose being a team player over a leader. But when one of the names on the building personally handpicks you, you show up, zero questions asked, and you make sure they made the right choice in choosing you.

The bulk of the work was finished today. All I had left of this trip was a few minor loose ends to tie and a congratulatory dinner with our client, and then I could fly back home and get back to normalcy: expensive business brunches and assessing properties with realtors for whatever ambitious young couple I represent looking to buy a space for their… I don’t know, fucking pet cafe? I reclined in the rolling desk chair, staring blankly at the ceiling. “Fuck.” I don’t remember the last time I truly felt this tapped, like I’d just run the real estate attorney decathlon. I kept reminding myself I’d soon reap the fruits of my labor, but I was reaching the point of feeling like I had deluded myself. This particular assignment was the kinda work that would gray my hair early if I kept at it. This was certainly a one time and one time only operation for me.

I spent some more time on my laptop drafting a few emails to send before I decided my work day was officially over, because once I clock out, I really clock out. When my eyes started to glaze over and my screen read less like English and more like hieroglyphics, that was my queue to finally gather my shit and head to my hotel room. The moment I swiped my keycard and crossed the threshold I kicked off my heels, my feet instantly relieved by the cool marble flooring as I padded my way to the full length mirror beside the wardrobe. I stared at myself as I undressed, admiring the best parts of my body and fully ignoring the parts that needed fine tuning. What I noticed most was how drained I looked. I felt like no matter how long I stayed in bed, I wouldn’t return to how youthful I was prior to this case. This shit essentially shaved about four years from my goddamn life. I spoke to the virtual assistant offered in all the rooms here and asked for the time; a gentle female voice with an accent I couldn’t quite pinpoint informed me it was 6:33pm. I pulled on the complimentary bathrobe and grabbed my laptop before I climbed onto the plush bed. I checked my email for what I said would be the last time of the evening, but I knew better than to believe myself. I didn’t make it to my position by not making myself readily available for anything my career required of me.

Live for the job, die for the job. Loser.

“Shut the hell up.” I rolled my eyes, both at my own thoughts and also at the fact I was now speaking out loud to myself. I always thought that people that I’d catch talking to themselves were always stressed out and typically overworked, but I ignored that when it came to myself. My rules never applied to me, except the rule that says my rules don’t apply to me. I didn’t argue with my logic.

Unfortunately, that tiny negative thought I just planted had already taken root, and now I did feel like a fuckin’ loser. I encouraged everyone to enjoy the weekend and here I was, in bed before seven and checking emails. The most excitement I had came from an email I spotted from my personal shopper saying he got a Christian Dior connect to hold goods for me now. But I recognized this pattern: whenever he hooked up with a new guy, there were perks I’d reap the benefits from until they had some inevitable falling out and the perks stopped. Knowing Devin’s penchant for self sabotage with every relationship he’s had since being in my employ, I rushed to open a browser tab to the Christian Dior site; I had to jump on this one stat.

I shot him an email with the link to two bags I wanted and felt a little better about beating myself up, but it wasn’t enough. Why was I holed up in here? Surely the casino was big enough that I wouldn’t find myself tagging along with interns and baby lawyers, right? And if not, I was in the city! There was plenty to do here, an abundance of places to be someone else other than Y/N Y/L/N, loser at law.

“... Fuck it.” I slammed my laptop shut, knowing if I stayed on it any longer I’d be looking for porn to top myself off and wind up passing out before the sun fully fucking set. I hopped off the bed and set a playlist for the night, connecting my phone to the virtual assistant, and went to take a quick shower to refresh myself and wash away any residual thoughts of loserdom. I had no set plan for tonight, so I needed to wear an anything goes kind of fit. And black. Black was as “anything goes'' as it gets, and had the magical effect of making me feel like I could conquer the world when I wore it. I settled on a classic LBD that hugged all the right curves and bulges, and some ruching that hid all the undesired ones. The square neckline tastefully, not desperately, showcased the girls, while long mesh sleeves offered a peek at my skin underneath that made you want to peel them back for a better look, maybe even a touch. The dress came to mid-thigh, my legs glowing and smooth as butter, courtesy of the full body massage and scrub I treated myself to prior to the trip. I always made sure to get any and all grooming and maintenance done before traveling, since I never knew what trouble I’d kick up in a town I had the security of knowing I’d never see any hookups again once I left. Bootycalls aside, when I felt my best I performed my best at work, and I never felt better than I did after waxing and exfoliating myself dolphin smooth.

I piled the curly mess on my head into a messy but sexy top bun, threw on some gold hoops and a few complimenting rings before finishing a simple yet effective makeup look. Begrudgingly I climbed into some black heels with thin straps I had to wrap and tie around my ankles, and finally I was able to spritz on some perfume, grab my clutch and head out for the night. I decided I would kick my evening off downstairs at the hotel bar for a drink or two and give myself more time to figure out what the hell I wanted to do tonight.

“How are we startin’ the night off, hun?” the bubbly brunette behind the bar asked me, setting a bar napkin before me as I seated myself on the vinyl bar stool.

“I think I’ll take a gin and tonic with a squeeze of lime.”

“You got it.” I rested my clutch before me and took small glances at my surroundings. I didn’t spot anyone from the firm, and wasn’t sure how I felt about it. Yes, it would be refreshing not to have to discuss work even at a lighthearted capacity, or go through the big wow moment of someone seeing me informally and in outside clothing. But also I wouldn’t have minded being in familiar company. No matter. I didn’t hesitate when it came to striking conversation with a stranger. Once my drink was placed on the bar napkin, I pinched my straw for a sip as I spun around on my stool, crossing my right leg over my left. I surveyed the room for potential; naturally I looked for moneybags. Not because I needed a man with money to entertain me, or for any other reason, but I was used to doing so for work. People with money tended to want to buy new property, which meant a textbook of real estate laws for acquiring said property, which is where I came in.

I thought maybe I’d have better luck at the casino, where at least the highrollers would be a lot easier to spot, until I made eye contact with a particular gentleman. I wasn’t inclined to point out physical features as checks off the list, since being attractive wasn’t a sign of significant wealth. Instead, I noticed the quality of the clothes he was wearing, his watch if he was wearing one, and above all else his shoes. You could tell just about anything about a man by what he had on his feet. Unfortunately my view was a bit obstructed by another bar patron, but I was almost certain he’d approach me after the look I just gave before rotating back to facing the bar.

But not before I noticed the aforementioned bar patron, and he got a glance at me for a fleeting moment the same time I spotted him.

Now I was very good at playing out of sight, out of mind. The moment I turned my back to him he ceased to exist in this room. The one, single time I broke my rule and slept with a co-worker, although technically we didn’t work directly together under the same firm, my decision found a way to kick me in the ass. I ran into Kento Nanami a handful of times at work-related functions. I was a  conveyancer, a real estate lawyer to the common man, at Hilman & Klein, and he was a financial advisor at another building in the same work district. Our paths often crossed; he would represent some pretty big silent investors, and I was usually the one convincing people like him to have their employer hire me in the event they wanted to buy new properties. As it happens, we had the same boss this time around. Because we didn’t work in the same office, it was so easy to avoid him, so it never even crossed my mind that he would possibly be here.

And now here we were.

You know that android isn’t gonna make a fuss, shut up.

True. Kento was far too callous in my opinion to even think to come over here and kick up dust. Actually, that was part of why I figured him an ideal candidate for a work conference hookup; he seemed pretty cut and dry, like the last person to react in any fashion that would complicate a strictly just sex situation. A simple one and done! I always chalked it up to the alcohol that he was even showing any inkling of emotion during our little tryst. But that was just one night, and every interaction after that was as if it never even happened which I couldn’t be more thankful for. My shoulders relaxed as I let out a sigh of relief and ordered a shot of tequila to snuff out any budding tension in my nerves. I looked over my shoulder to see if I could find my mystery guy, and instead I was met with Kento about three and a half steps away from me.

Fuck!

“Are you shittin’ me…” I mumbled under my breath to myself, my jaw clenching. I quickly faced forward. Maybe I’d need more than just one shot.

“Did you just arrive today?” he asked, helping himself to the bar stool to my right.

“Nope. Kinda been leading this whole thing. Been here since Tuesday.”

“Hm. Funny, this is my first time seeing you and I’ve been here since Sunday.”

“You been lookin’ for me, Kento?”

“Not particularly.”

Lying fuck.

I rolled my eyes. “Where’s that white-haired hemorrhoid that usually tags along with you?”

“Gojo’s around here somewhere, probably harassing your interns.”

“Like a fox in the hen house. Of course they’ll eat up whatever he throws their way, too.” Finally a tiny glass of tequila rimmed with salt slid across the bar for me, a lime wedge placed on my napkin along with it.

“He has a way of charming the impressionable.”

I shook my head and lifted my glass. “They’re not impressionable, just dumb.” I licked my rim, took my shot and quickly sucked the lime wedge immediately after. “Besides, I’d never admit this to him directly but he’s got an impressive reputation in our field.”

“So he charmed you at some point as well?”

I scoffed, reaching into my clutch for some cash to settle my tab. “The moment Satoru opened his mouth, whatever respect I had for him was blasted to shit. I’m impressed by his performance as a lawyer, nothing else.” I tossed a crisp hundred onto the bar and slid from my stool. “Give him another round of whatever he’s having, on me, and keep the change.”

“You know, you don’t have to scurry off every time we run into each other at one of these things.”

Ignored. “I’m assuming you’ll be at the dinner tomorrow night?”

“I am chief financial advisor for our mutual client. I helped seal this deal as much as anyone else.”

I rolled my eyes. “Guess I’ll see you tomorrow night then, Kento.”

“Y/L/N.”

Snooty tight ass. That last name only shit was always his first class ticket under my damn skin. It always felt kinda condescending, like I was being half-assed acknowledged. On my way out I scanned the room one final time for Mr. Mystery to no avail, so I headed in the direction of the casino. I reached into my clutch once again to exchange enough cash into chips to get me into the highrollers den. I wasn’t a gambler by any means, but for a night I could be. I looked around for a table that wasn’t too busy and found a blackjack table with my name on it. Only two other players, both old, both women.

“Any drinks for you tonight, miss?” the floor attendant came beside me to ask.

I looked to my left with a friendly smile. “Ladies, what are we drinking?”

I wound up with a Long Island for myself, and a cran-vodka and an Arnold Palmer for my two new friends. I sat for a couple hands just spectating before getting in on the action myself. I wound up winning six hands and losing three before bidding my girls good luck with the rest of their evening and heading to the next table.

“There’s my girl!” I heard booming behind me, over the arcade-like chimes of slot machines. I turned around and wished to every holy deity that I hadn’t. “Now the fun can really begin!”

“Stop before people think we know each other!”

“We missed you earlier; I thought for sure you’d be at the meeting with the new owner.” He instantly hooked his arm around my neck and pulled me closer to him.

“Jesus-” I sighed as I struggled to free myself from his grip, readjusting my dress. “I was in a closing meeting all day. I’ll be seeing him tomorrow night.”

“A night visit from the big man?” he asked suggestively, wiggling his stark white brows. “Women have it so easy.”

“It’s only been three minutes, snowflake. Usually the sexism doesn’t kick in for an hour.”

“Luckily for you, I’m already four drinks and three shots in, so you’ll hafta excuse me.”

“Any drinks for you two tonight?” another floor attendant came around to ask.

“Yes! I-” Satoru started.

“-He’s fine, but I’ll take another Long Island, thank you.” The attendant smiled with a nod and a be right back before he was on his way.

“Booooo. Keep it up and you might tie with Nanamin for biggest buzzkill, Y/N.”

Oh fuck. That reminded me: if Satoru was here, it was safe to assume that Kento wasn’t far behind. “Actually,” I said with a playful grin, “why don’t you take my drink. I’m gonna go find the ladies room.”

"Now we’re talkin’,” he exclaimed with excitement and his signature smile showcasing every tooth in his fat head.

I laughed to myself as I made a dash for it, successfully shaking Snow White and making my way to a craps table in my view. As a rule I never rolled dice, too worried I’d cause everyone at the table to lose money, so I sat comfortably as a spectator and sized up the flow of things. I chose a good horse to bet on and began stacking my chips when it was their turn to roll, my fresh Patron margarita with me. As I sipped I chuckled to myself thinking of whether or not Satoru had figured out I was gone with the wind while he was drinking my Long Island.

“C’mon, big money big money. Mama needs a new Boston brownstone…”

“Final bets!” the dealer called. I stared at the table eagerly when an arm extended beside me, dropping two $100 chips on the table. Immediately the sexy watch around his wrist screamed at me, so I turned to look at the body and the man it was attached to.

“Didn’t peg you as a gambling man.”

“When in Rome.”

“Are you stalking me now, Kento?”

“Gojo told me he saw you headed in this direction.”

How the fuck did he know?! My eye twitched infinitesimally. I’d have some words for him at the dinner tomorrow that I’m almost certain he’d be attending. “You lookin’ for me?”

My horse rolled the dice, and both my chips and Kento’s were removed from the table. Fuck. I collected another $100 chip and placed the same bet; it would take more than one bad roll for me to give up on my trusty steed. I noticed Kento placed the same $200 bet, the show off.

“I would like to talk to you.”

“About? I’m off the clock.”

“Nothing work-related, technically.”

Technically? “Can it wait?”

“I think it’s waited long enough,” he spoke as he raised his plastic cup to his lips. “Don’t you?” he asked before taking a sip of the iced dark brown liquid.

I sighed. “What is there to talk about?”

“Not that I need to spell it out for you, but I will, if that’s the game you’re playing. The San Francisco conference.”

Another roll, this one kinder than the last. Both of our chips doubled and while I removed mine from the table, Kento left his to remain in the exact same position. “What about it? It came, it went.”

“Well, did I screw up somehow that night?”

I turned to him with a look of incredulity, an arched brow shooting upward. “What??”

“Did I say anything I shouldn’t have?”

Okay, maybe I was wrong about him being extremely indifferent and robotic. A person that truly could not care wouldn’t be asking me questions like this. I scoffed before taking another sip of my cocktail. “No, Kento.”

“Then perhaps it was something I did.”

I took a quick jog down memory lane to recount that evening. It was a long day of meetings, convention panels, and a lot of networking that inevitably proved very fruitless. I remember how annoyed I was that most of the activities I participated in that day were mandatory for the firm, so I was grateful I would be flying back home the following morning. This was almost two years ago, and at that point I had been working at Hillman & Klein for almost 4 years, which seems like a long time in theory but I was still considered fresh blood around the place. I wanted to show up and be a team player and do so with a smile but fuck I couldn’t wait to get back home. It’s common practice for these work events to end with a bang. While others opted to indulge in more questionable party favors, I was fine with just drinking that night. That’s how I wound up bumping into Satoru at the open bar and two of his good friends, Suguru and of course Kento. I grew tired of drunkenly mixing up the two names so I wound up spending more time talking to Kento.

Initially I thought he was incredibly boring and for the life of me couldn’t see how someone like Satoru wound up with a friend like him. The two were apples and oranges, night and day. I just enjoyed flirting with him that night, watching the muscles in his face pull just slightly in reaction to my toying with him. Not to mention that he was a fairly attractive man and he could keep up with me on an intellectual level, maybe even teach me a thing or two. He wasn’t a hard man to like, aside from him constantly appearing like he didn’t wanna be bothered. I could see how a nuisance like Satoru Gojo had fun poking at Kento, as I soon found joy in doing the same. Somehow I bullied him right into my room that night, and one thing led to another. As memories of our bedroom jostling came flooding back to me, I couldn’t think of one single thing that could have been misconstrued as bad, in behavior or performance. He was just shy of the perfect gentleman once I chiseled away at his cold exterior, and to my surprise he wasn’t bad in the sack, either.

Not bad at all.

I snapped back to the present before my imagination got the better of me and eyed Kento. The expression on his face of course didn’t match any of the concern for me that he spoke. He was staring at me while I stood reminiscing, and sighed at my silence and redirected his attention back to the craps table. “It was nothing you did,” I finally said.

“So nothing I did, and nothing I said. Hm.”

“What answer you lookin’ for in particular?” I finished my drink and took a partially melted ice cube in my mouth.

“I’ve been racking my brain trying to figure out why you avoid me the way you do, but if you’ve got nothing and I’ve got nothing then the answer is simple: you just dislike me.”

My ice crunching was promptly interrupted by an eruption of laughter. This man was no robot at all! “Wait, what? That’s the conclusion you came to??”

He looked at me for a moment before placing another bet. “Was that funny?” he asked as he continued idly thumbing his chips and staring at the table, clearly not amused.

I composed myself, swallowing the ice threatening to fall from my mouth. “It’s a bit of a stretch, no?”

“You have yet to tell me a better reason…”

“Tell you what: you win this roll, I’ll tell you.”

He smacked his teeth under his breath. “And if I don’t?” He sipped his drink again, side eyeing me.

I shrugged. “Then it’s business as usual. I see you, we exchange pleasantries, and then go about our day.”

“I hardly call anything after San Francisco pleasant… ”

I stepped a bit closer to him and stared with anticipation at the table, eager to see what fate was in store for curious little Kento. “Don’t be dramatic, I haven’t been that bad. Besides, that was like two years ago.”

“Hm.” He said nothing else and as the dealer called for final bets, we watched in complete silence.

[skypied]

AO3 Wrapped Questions!

3, 5, 6, 7, 10, 11, 16, 20, 27, 28, 29, 30 :)

I'm guessing wrapped implies "works from this year" so I'm only going off those! Buckle uuuuup this is getting looooong like always

3. What work are you most proud of (regardless of kudos/hits)?

Hmmm, maybe Back Home. Most of my fics this year feel like mindless brain dumps, but this feels more like a complete work.

5. What work of yours got more feedback than you expected?

Probably hard feelings? It generally has a lot less hits and kudos than most my other work, probably because of it being angst without a happy ending (YET), but through the months it's gotten a lot of very sweet and heartfelt and/or heartbreaking comments.

Back Home also got a lot more feedback than expected - it was one of those venting fics that I didn't really expect to resonate and/or not be enjoyed by anyone else but me.

6. Favorite title you used

Hmmmmmmmm , I don't really think any of my titles this year stand out :p Maybe Catch of the Day, just bc it's so stupid.

7. If you use song lyrics, which artist’s songs did you pull from the most?

Most my titles from this year weren't song titles actually! Surprising, since I used to exclusively use song lyrics. There's only hard feelings (Lorde) and Can't Help It, I'm Obsessed (Sam Riggs).

(In 2021 we had Orla Gartland, Lizzo, Troye Sivan, Taylor Swift, Halsey and Maria Mena. Taylor and Maria were used twice: so they win. I think Maria would win overall for how many times her lyrics have been direct inspiration.)

10. What work was the quickest to write?

Probably a tie between the first chapter of hard feelings (started at like 10 in the morning when I was supposed to work, lol) - and Home (written while perched on the kitchen counter watching onions caramellize for onion soup). Both were around four hours, maybe one or two more for revisions.

Wait, actually, both chapters of Catch of the Day were mostly written in an hour or two each.

11. What work took you the longest to write?

Depends on whether you count hours spent on it, or stretch of time it took to finish it haha.

I do have wips I started last summer. Most of them are probably never gonna be anything. But I do have a wip that's almost done and I still intend to finish that I began... 14 months ago. oops.

But among published work - the ones that took the longest stretch of time is probably undertow and chapter two of hard feelings. According to docs, I began undertow on Christmas Eve last year (damn, didn't I have anything better to do?), so it tooooook... almost nine months? It's also kind of a mashup between three aimless wips that I eventually figured out went well enough to just patch together. hard feelings part two took seven months.

Most hours spent on it is harder to gauge, but maybe Can't Help It, I'm Obsessed. I remember I spent most my free time on it for maybe two-three weeks. (And then Annie kindly and graciously and perfectly finished it for me, thank god; I'd gotten myself in a real rut with it.)

16. What’s your most common “Additional Tags” tag?

Oh I dunno. Most are generic things like genre, established relationship and aged-up characters. The only one that sticks out is probably Alberto Scorfano has ADHD.

20. Which work of yours have you reread the most?

Prrrroooobably Trust Fall! I think it's just sweet and neat.

27. What do you listen to while writing?

That goes in cycles. Sometimes a playlist with classical music mixed in with movie soundtracks. Sometimes just whatever album I'm hooked on at the moment. I have some specific music for specific things, most are one song I'll loop for hours:

Downtown (feat Pri Pach) by BYOR, VINNE, Pri Pach. It's SO good for hyperfixating and writing smut 2am on a weekday. (Been a while since I did that, though.) There’s a reason it was my #1 on Spotify Wrapped last year, and #2 this year.

IDFC (feat. Ravenna Golden) by WHIPPED CREAM, Perto, Ravenna Golden. Same as Downtown. It tingles my brain.

River by Bishop Briggs. Great for emotionally charged and angsty smut.

I've spent HOOOOOURS listening to just 22:12 Until The End of Time from the Haven soundtrack while writing, no specific genre.

I generally listen a lot to Kevin Atwater to get into those Sad Boy Feelings (especially when writing about Alberto being too brainwashed by Christianity to admit his feelings for Luca. God I still love that AU, shame it's never getting finished.)

Lately I've been rewatching TV shows while writing, just to have something moving on the screen and something to listen to.

28. Favorite work you wrote this year?

Hmm hmm hmmmmm, feel like I'm repeating myself here but Back Home and hard feelings. Both feel like is the first complete stories I wrote. Most my stuff is just scenes, this was the first that spanned over a longer time and connected themes together.

29. Favorite line/passage you wrote this year?

Ahhh idk if I have the patience to reread all 50k I published this year, so I'm taking a couple that come to mind:

It’s stupid and predictable and sometimes Luca wonders when they’ll tire of this, when the intensity of the teenage crush will fade into something more mature, as his mother used to sigh when they were chasing each other’s tails around the bay. It’s been years, and he’s starting to suspect this is just what they’re like, perpetually snickering like kids breaking curfew, whispering secrets in a blanket fort and constantly one-upping each other. 

from Morning Routines. The whole fic is stupid, silly fun, but I feel like this passage sums up their relationship in a cute way.

You know him like the back of your hand, but he’s scarily good at slipping under your skin to hide. You convince yourself otherwise, but you can never really tell. Not really. But it’s yet another trust you have to fall into, accept the rush of gravity and hope he catches you. 

Trust Fall, chapter one

He looks at you, breathless and disbelieving. Disbelieving your love for him. When it’s the only thing you truly believe in, when nothing in this chaotic world makes sense without him, when it’s the seam keeping your life stitched together.  

You wish he could reach inside your chest, clench your heart tight and feel that it’s more his than your own. You wish you could put your mouth to his ear like a conch shell, and he’d hear the ceaseless waves that lap in the back of your mind whispering his name. You wish he could feel the magnetic pull from somewhere deep in your guts that makes you unable to stop orbiting him. 

You don’t dare imagine what would happen if he stopped letting you love him. 

Trust fall, chapter two

Both of these from Trust Fall are some of the rare instances that I feel like I’ve written analogies that feel complete and make sense for them and the work itself. 

You stare up like you used to, towards the incomprehensible lights of celestial bodies dancing on the surface, towards the never-ending fantasies of freedom forever pulling you towards the next horizon. Except now there is an anchor wrapped up in your tail, with a low, humming purr filling your body and quieting the restless whisper in the undercurrent of your blood and gentle claws tracing patterns over your ribs, all brazen ferociousness gone for listless limbs and a sleepy murmur whenever you shift.

There’s still a pull, a need to see, try, explore more. But maybe you don’t need to leave everything behind to feel free. 

from undertow. I feel like this is the closest I’ll come to writing something about Luca’s “teenage rebellion” need for freedom that might lead him to neglect friendships/relationships for fear of being smothered again, and becoming comfortable with intimacy and vulnerability and being tied down.

Also this line:

You don’t want him to be in love with you unless it hurts.

This whole thing from ch2 of Back Home:

“Do you still love me?” you ask again, but now your breath is slow and calm because you know the answer. But you have to ask. Just in case. 

You know the answer because he’s ripped your heart out and sown it back together; replaced old, festering scabs with gossamer threads of promises and gently placed it back inside. It’s still a fragile, ugly patchwork, but he’ll keep replacing bits and pieces of old hurt with new hope until it’s whole. You know it because he has scratch marks and bruises down his back and neck colored by your love and rage, because he lets you ruin him to save yourself.

You know it because you believe him more than you believe yourself.

“More than anything,” he says in a firm voice, as if it’s a fact as natural and definite as the sun rising and setting. He picks the smoldering stardust off the floor, breathes life back into the stars and places them back into your eyes. He smothers the flaming rage in your veins and replaces your blood with love. Because he loves you. You love him too. You love him more than anything and it hurts more than anything. But it’s worth it for the blissful, warm silence when he looks at you and you know he’s seen everything inside you and still he wants to. He makes your heart into a home and you let him. No matter how many times you tear it down in all-consuming fits of rage, he puts it back in order and you let him. He wants to make you better and you want to let him.

yayyy I love breaking Alberto and putting him back together again<3

30. Biggest surprise while writing this year?

Maybe how drastic the shift from only writing smut to never writing smut was? haha. Dgmw, I still write smut, but I just... don't finish it. Idk, it always ends up pushing up against things I'm uncomfortable with, or I write myself into corners. I feel like they're always things that aren't really a big deal, but they turn into massive hurdles in my head. And while writing smut is fun, I eventually end up feeling like I'm just writing the same things over and over. Which, y'know, is still fun and doesn't mean it's not valuable! I guess I just get really self-conscious over baring my ass on the internet.

On a more positive note, I think I've managed to keep a bit more distance to my writing. I do often get stuck with writing, and that frustration used to encompass everything and be... not great for me mentally. I used to obsess a lot more about feedback and get really bummed out about "underperforming" works and compare myself a lot to others. Now it's more like... I just chuck stuff I think is neat up on AO3 and don't think much more of it.

I’ve also experimented a lot more with style than I expected, and I guess found my voice a bit more!

ALSO how much Luca POV I’ve written. I still feel like I don’t understand the guy, but he’s fun to write. Alberto POV tends to become ... dark, lol.

[the-pen-and-the-stethoscope]

PGY-3

Okay! Here’s that previously hinted at update (month by month) of my third year of residency! Sorry not sorry it’s so long! 

July: Became a third year! Got to do a bunch of OB! GOT TO DO MY FIRST C-SECTION AS A PRIMARY! Applied to a million fellowships. Met a boy...

August: Whirlwind romance. That’s legit all I remember from this month. I know I was also on inpatient but that was kinda background noise to the personal growth I was going through (and it was growth...shout out to my fave podcast, Girls Gotta Eat!). 

September: Went to my best friend’s wedding and got blindsided by the boy breaking up with me (though I guess now I can say I’ve had a true summer fling) and did a bunch of fellowship interviews. And I’m sure I also went to work at some point... 

October: Peds ED month. Still hate the ED. Had my sister come visit for a weekend with an amazing fall themed photoshoot. By the end of the month I would say it had become clear that I wasn’t going to be getting any fellowships. It was really tough to feel like the one thing I’d been working on for the last three years wasn’t going to come to fruition. I cried a lot. I thought a lot about what to do instead. I talked with a lot of mentors about where to go from here. 

November: Applied for dream job. Literally the job that I feel that I have been working towards ever since I decided I wanted to do family medicine. And they were really excited about me!

December: Another inpatient month. Interviewed at dream job. Started to realize it may not be as good of a fit as I was hoping. Went home for Christmas. Worked NYE and delivered the first new years baby of 2022! 

January: Started looking at other possible jobs. Became increasingly frustrated day by day with the recruiter associated with dream job. Found a really random opportunity in the middle of nowhere in a state I never thought I’d move to that would teach me how to do c-sections. Went to interview there. FELL IN LOVE. New dream job. Conflicted, conflicted, conflicted over what to do. Also reconnected with old attending from med school and applied to work at his clinic as well. 

February: I ACCEPTED A JOB!!!!! After weeks of deliberation I went with NEW DREAM JOB IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE BECAUSE IT FELT RIGHT! In the end I’m going to do full spectrum family medicine in a rural town at a critical access hospital with mostly outpatient, some inpatient medicine and peds and a ton of OB and on top of it all I’m going to learn how to do c-sections. And also make a fuck ton of money. Like an insane amount. Like crazy bonkers amount. Like they def made a mistake but it’s too late now. 

March: Studied for boards and studied some more and shit hit the fan multiple times in terms of people calling out from work (at one point we had seven people out at once...we’d run out of people to cover things) and one time I got woken up at 1:30 am for one of these call out issues and after that I fled to Florida to...study some more! 

April: ugh. worst month ever. 

As a fun backdrop, I was on our inpatient service this month. We had some really really sick people and some very difficult people who kept leaving the hospital on us despite continuing to also keep coming back and some really sad people who literally had nowhere to go. 

The first weekend of the month my cat died. It was sudden and unexpected. I was (still am) completely torn up about it. She was my companion throughout all of COVID. Even though she was getting old, I still thought I’d be bringing her on my next adventure with me. Every time I open my apartment door and she isn’t there to great me I die a little inside. 

Less than twelve hours later...my residency best friend’s dad died. It was sudden and unexpected. She called me while I was still in bed listening to grand rounds on a Monday morning. Sobbing. The next week was a complete blur. Mostly the two of us just sitting in grief together. 

I took boards. (OH YEAH...in the middle of all this I was still studying for boards!) Once they were behind me I thought that everything would get better. I even had a vacation lined up the first week of May to fully decompress and relax.

Then I got COVID. Guys, I know it is hard to believe but I had not gotten COVID yet. Not even like an asymptomatic carrier. I tested weekly this winter and never had a positive result. When I saw the positive last weekend I broke down. I was terrified about how it would affect me, devastated about not being able to finish my month up with the team or go on my much much MUCH NEEDED vacation, guilty about maybe exposing others, and just feeling so terrible all around. In the end, it hasn’t been that bad physically, but mentally it has really been difficult. I feel even more scared about going out in the world (after being super cautious for so long and not even doing much of anything the week before and still getting COVID??? How could I ever go back to normal again?) and just unimaginable shame about actually getting sick. All stuff that I know is just not actually based in reality...but I feel it nonetheless. 

And soooo here we are! I cancelled my actual vacation and am now finishing up my quarantine at my parents house and then probably going to go to attending town (eek!) to look at houses (EEEK!) at the end of next week. Not all is lost. But it was a pretty shitty month. 

Oh...but I did pass boards :) 

[mostlymovieswithmax]

Movies I watched in May

Sadly, I kind of skipped writing a post for April. It was a mad month with so much going on: lots of emails sent and lots of stress. I started a new job so I’m getting to grips with that... and even then, I still watched a bunch of movies. But this is about what I watched in May and, yeah… still a bunch. So if you’re looking to get into some other movies - possibly some you’ve thought about watching but didn’t know what they were like, or maybe like the look of something you’ve never heard of - then this may help! So here’s every film I watched from the 1st to the 31st of May 2021 Tenet (2020) - 8/10 This was my third time watching Christopher Nolan’s most Christopher Nolan movie ever and it makes no sense but I still love it. The spectacle of it all is truly like nothing I’ve ever seen. I had also watched it four days prior to this watch also, only this time I had enabled audio description for the visually impaired, thinking it would make it funny… It didn’t.

Nomadland (2020) - 6/10 Chloé Zhao’s new movie got a lot of awards attention. Everyone was hyped for this and when it got put out on Disney+ I was eager to see what all the fuss was about. Seeing these real nomads certainly gave the film an authenticity, along with McDormand’s ever-praisable acting. But generally I found it quite underwhelming and lacking a lot in its pacing. Nomadland surely has its moments of captivating cinematography and enticing commentary on the culture of these people, but it felt like it went on forever without any kind of forward direction or goal. The Prince of Egypt (1998) - 6/10 I reviewed this on my podcast, The Sunday Movie Marathon. For what it is, it’s pretty fun but nowhere near as good as some of the best DreamWorks movies.

Chinatown (1974) - 8/10 What a fantastic and wonderfully unpredictable mystery crime film! I regret to say I’ve not seen many Jack Nicholson performances but he steals the show. Despite Polanski’s infamy, it’d be a lie to claim this wasn’t truly masterful. Howl’s Moving Castle (2004) - 8/10 Admittedly I was half asleep as I curled up on the sofa to watch this again on a whim. I watched this with someone who demanded the dubbed version over the subtitled version and while I objected heavily, I knew I’d seen the movie before so it didn’t matter too much. That person also fell asleep about 20 minutes in, so how pointless an argument it was. Howl’s Moving Castle boasts superb animation, the likes of which I’ve only come to expect of Miyazaki. The story is so unique and the colours are absolutely gorgeous. This may not be my favourite from the legendary director but there’s no denying its splendour.

Bāhubali: The Beginning (2015) - 3/10 The next morning I watched some absolute trash. This crazy, over the top Indian movie is hilarious and I could perhaps recommend it if it weren’t so long. That being said, Bāhubali was not a dumpster fire; it has a lot of good-looking visual effects and it’s easy to see the ambition for this epic story, it just doesn’t come together. There’s fun to be had with how the main character is basically the strongest man in the world and yet still comes across as just a lucky dumbass, along with all the dancing that makes no sense but is still entertaining to watch. Seven Samurai (1954) - 10/10 If it wasn’t obvious already, Seven Samurai is a masterpiece. I reviewed this on The Sunday Movie Marathon podcast, so more thoughts can be found there. Red Road (2006) - 6/10 Another recommendation on episode 30 of the podcast. Red Road really captures the authentic British working class experience. Before Sunrise (1995) - 10/10 One of the best romances put to film. The first in Richard Linklater’s Before Trilogy is undoubtedly my favourite, despite its counterparts being almost equally as good. It tells the story of a young couple travelling through Europe, who happen to meet on a train and spend the day together. It is gloriously shot on location in Vienna and features some of the most interesting dialogue I’ve ever seen put to film. Heartbreakingly beautiful.

Tokyo Story (1953) - 9/10 This Japanese classic - along with being visually and sonically masterful - is a lot about appreciating the people in your life and taking the time to show them that you love them. It’s about knowing it’s never too late to rekindle old relationships if you truly want to, which is something I’ve been able to relate to in recent years. It broke my heart in two. Tokyo Story will make you want to call your mother. Before Sunset (2004) - 10/10 Almost a decade after Sunrise, Sunset carries a sombre yet relieving feeling. Again, the performances from Julie Delpy and Ethan Hawke take me away, evoking nostalgic feelings as they stroll through the contemporary Parisian streets. There is no regret in me for buying the Criterion blu-ray boxset for this trilogy. Before Midnight (2013) - 10/10 Here, Linklater cements this trilogy as one of the best in film history. It’s certainly not the ending I expected, yet it’s an ending I appreciate endlessly. Because it doesn’t really end. Midnight shows the troubling times of a strained relationship; one that has endured so long and despite initially feeling almost dreamlike in how idealistically that first encounter was portrayed, the cracks appear as the film forces you to come to terms with the fact that fairy-tale romances just don’t exist. Relationships require effort and sacrifice and sometimes the ones that truly work are those that endure through all the rough patches to emerge stronger. The Holy Mountain (1973) - 10/10 Jodorowsky’s masterpiece is absolute insanity. I talked more about it on The Sunday Movie Marathon podcast.

The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014) - 10/10 Another watch for Grand Budapest because I bought the Criterion blu-ray. As unalterably perfect as ever. Blue Jay (2016) - 6/10 Rather good up to a point. My co-hosts and I did not agree on how good this movie was, which is a discussion you can listen to on my podcast. Shadow and Bone: The Afterparty (2021) - 3/10 For what it’s worth, I really enjoyed the first season of Shadow and Bone, which is why I wanted to see what ‘The Afterparty’ was about. This could have been a lot better and much less annoying if all those terrible comedians weren’t hosting and telling bad jokes. I don’t want to see Fortune Feimster attempt to tell a joke about oiling her body as the cast of the show sit awkwardly in their homes over Zoom. If it had simply been a half hour, 45 minute chat with the cast and crew about how they made the show and their thoughts on it, a lot of embarrassment and time-wasting could have been spared. Wadjda (2012) - 6/10 Another recommendation discussed at length on The Sunday Movie Marathon. Wadjda was pretty interesting from a cultural perspective but largely familiar in terms of story structure.

Freddy Got Fingered (2001) - 2/10 A truly terrible movie with maybe one or two scenes that stop it from being a complete catastrophe. Tom Green tried to create something that almost holds a middle finger to everyone who watches it and to some that could be a fun experience, but to me it just came across as utterly irritating. It’s simply a bunch of scenes threaded together with an incredibly loose plot. He wears the skin of a dead deer, smacks a disabled woman over and over again on the legs to turn her on, and he swings a newborn baby around a hospital room by its umbilical cord (that part was actually pretty funny). I cannot believe I watched this again, although I think I repressed a lot of it since having seen it for the first time around five years ago. The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn - Part 1 - (2011) I have to say, these movies seem to get better with each instalment. They’re still not very good though. That being said, I’m amazed at how many times I’ve watched each of the Twilight movies at this point. This time around, I watched Breaking Dawn - Part 1 with a YMS commentary track on YouTube and that made the experience a lot more entertaining. Otherwise, this film is super dumb but pretty entertaining. I would recommend watching these movies with friends. Solaris (1972) - 8/10 Andrei Tarkovsky’s grand sci-fi epic about the emotional crises of a crew on the space station orbiting the fictional planet Solaris is much as strange and creepy as you might expect from the master Russian auter. I had wanted to watch this for a while so I bought the Criterion blu-ray and it’s just stunning. It’s clear to see the 2001: A Space Odyssey inspiration but Solaris is quite a different beast entirely. Jaws (1975) - 4/10 I really tried to get into this classic movie, but Jaws exhibits basically everything I don’t like about Steven Spielberg’s directing. For sure, the effects are crazily good but the story itself is poorly handled and largely uninteresting. It was just a massive slog to get through.

Darkman (1990) - 6/10 Sam Raimi’s superhero movie is so much fun, albeit massively stupid. Further discussion on Darkman can be found on episode 32 of The Sunday Movie Marathon podcast. Darkman II: The Return of Durant (1995) - 1/10 Abysmal. I forgot the movie as I watched it. This was part of a marathon my friends and I did for episode 32 of our podcast. Darkman III: Die Darkman Die (1996) - 1/10 Perhaps this trilogy is not so great after all. Only marginally better than Darkman II but still pretty terrible. More thoughts on episode 32 of my podcast. F For Fake (1973) - 8/10 Rewatching this proved to be a worthwhile decision. Albeit slightly boring, there’s no denying how crazy the story of this documentary about art forgers is. The standout however, is the director himself. Orson Welles makes a lot of this film about himself and how hot his girlfriend is and it is hilarious.

The Mitchells vs. The Machines (2021) - 4/10 More style over substance, Sony’s new animated adventure wants so much to be in trend with the current internet culture but it simply doesn’t understand what it’s emulating. There’s a nyan cat reference, for crying out loud. For every joke that works, there are about ten more that do not and were it not for the wonderful animation, it simply wouldn’t be getting so much praise. Taxi Driver (1976) - 10/10 The first movie I’ve seen in a cinema since 2020 and damn it was good to be back! I’ve already reviewed Taxi Driver in my March wrap-up but seeing it in the cinema was a real treat. Irreversible (2002) - 8/10 One of the most viscerally horrendous experiences I’ve ever had while watching a movie. I cannot believe a friend of mine gave me the DVD to watch. More thoughts on episode 32 of The Sunday Movie Marathon podcast. Don’t watch it with the family. The Golden Compass (2007) - 1/10 I had no recollection of this being as bad as it is. The Golden Compass is the definition of a factory mandated movie. Nothing it does on its own is worth any kind of merit. I would say, if you wanted an experience like what this tries to communicate, a better option by far is the BBC series, His Dark Materials. More of my thoughts can be found in the review I wrote on Letterboxd.

Antichrist (2009) - 8/10 Lars von Trier is nothing if not provocative and I can understand why someone would not like Antichrist, but I enjoyed it quite a lot. After watching it, I wrote a slightly disjointed summary of my interpretations of this highly metaphorical movie in the group chat, so fair warning for a bit of spoilers and graphic descriptions: It's like, the patriarchy, man! Oppression! Men are the rational thinkers with big brains and the women just cry and be emotional. So she's seen as crazy when she's smashing his cock and driving a drill through his leg to keep him weighted down. Like, how does he like it, ya know? So then she mutilates herself like she did with him and now they're both wounded, but the animals crowd around her (and the crow that he couldn't kill because it's Mother nature, not Father nature, duh). Then he kills her, even though she could've killed him loads of times but didn't. So it's like "haha big win for the man who was subjected to such horrific torture. Victory!" And then all the women with no faces come out of the woods because it's like a constant cycle. Manchester By The Sea (2016) - 6/10 Great performances in this super sad movie. I can’t say I got too much out of it though. Roar (1981) - 9/10 Watching Roar again was still as terrifying an experience as the first time. If you want to watch something that’s loose on plot with poor acting but with real big cats getting in the way of production and physically attacking people, look no further. This is the scariest movie I’ve ever seen because it’s all basically real. Cannot recommend it enough. Eyes Without A Face (1960) - 8/10 I’m glad I checked this old French movie out again. There’s a lot to marvel at in so many aspects, what with the premise itself - a mad surgeon taking the faces from unsuspecting women and transplanting them onto another - being incredibly unique for the time. Short, sweet and entertaining!

Se7en (1995) - 10/10 The first in a David Fincher marathon we did for The Sunday Movie Marathon, episode 33. Zodiac (2007) - 10/10 Second in the marathon, as it was getting late, we decided to watch half that evening and the last half on the following evening. Zodiac is a brilliant movie and you can hear more of my thoughts on the podcast (though I apologise; my audio is not the best in this episode). Gone Girl (2014) - 10/10 My favourite Fincher movie. More insights into this masterpiece in episode 33 of the podcast. Friends: The Reunion (2021) - 6/10 It was heartwarming to see the old actors for this great show together again. I talked about the Friends reunion film at length in episode 33 of my podcast.

Wolfwalkers (2020) - 10/10 I reviewed this in an earlier post but would like to reiterate just how wonderful Wolfwalkers is. If you get the chance, please see it in the cinema. I couldn’t stop crying from how beautiful it was. Raya and The Last Dragon (2021) - 6/10 After watching Wolfwalkers, I decided I didn’t want to go home. So I had lunch in town and booked a ticket for Disney’s Raya and The Last Dragon. A child was coughing directly behind me the entire time. Again, I reviewed this in an earlier post but generally it was decent but I have so many problems with the execution. The Princess Bride (1987) - 9/10 Clearly I underrated this the last time I watched it. The Princess Bride is warm and hilarious with some delightfully memorable characters. A real classic!

The Invisible Kid (1988) - 1/10 About as good as you’d expect a movie with that name to be, The Invisible Kid was a pick for The Sunday Movie Marathon podcast, the discussion for which you can listen to in episode 34. Babel (2006) - 9/10 The same night that I watched The Invisible Kid, I watched a masterful and dour drama from the director of Birdman and The Revenant. Babel calls back to an earlier movie of Iñárritu’s, called Amores Perros and as I was informed while we watched this for the podcast, it turns out Babel is part of a trilogy alongside the aforementioned film. More thoughts in episode 34 of the podcast. Snake Eyes (1998) - 1/10 After feeling thoroughly emotionally wiped out after Babel, we immediately watched another recommendation for the podcast: Snake Eyes, starring Nicolas Cage. This was a truly underwhelming experience and for more of a breakdown into what makes this movie so bad, you can listen to us talk about it on the podcast.

[midnightsnyx]

Consequences - Matthew Tkachuk: part 1

summary: you absolutely hate Matthew Tkachuk so it’s just your luck when you wind up pregnant with his child.

a/n: look at me starting a new story when i have three other WIP otg lol

i dont know if anybody has written this already but it just came to me and i wrote it in like an hour. it’s short but it’s more of an intro so there will be more parts if you guys like this one!! leave a comment to let me know :)

Consequences - Part 1

“Fuck me.”

Becca hums from her seat across from you. “Not my thing, but thanks for the offer.”

“Becca, this is serious.” You whine, still staring at your period tracker app. You’ve been busy between school and work so it took you far too long to realize that your period was late and you were never late. Your cycle was like clockwork for as long as you could remember so when you realized you missed your period, you knew immediately something was wrong.  

“It could be worse.” She says, and you stare at her in shock.

“Are you joking? What could possibly be worse than getting knocked up by him?”

“My step-mom always says that getting pregnant is the least of your worries when you have unprotected s-e-x. It’s the STD’s you’ve gotta worry about.”

You grimace and although you agree with her, you’re still freaking out over the possibility that you could be pregnant. And worst of all, with your enemy.

Matthew Tkachuk.

Tall, dark, and annoying, Matthew Tkachuk came into your life like a tornado, flipping everything upside down and making a mess. You knew you would hate him from the moment you met, when he tried to pick you up at the bar you went to with one of your best friends, Johnny Gaudreau. He used some stupid pick-up line and was oh so certain you would fall for his charming personality so you felt quite proud of yourself at his shocked expression when you tossed your drink in his face.  

To be fair, you were really drunk and fresh off a rough break-up so his dumb attempt at trying to get you in to his bed pissed you off. That was two years ago and as time went on, he continued to piss you off every moment you were forced to spend with him.

But three weeks ago, you were accompanying Johnny at a Flame’s charity event and got a little too drunk at the after party and when you woke up the next morning, it was in Matthew Tkachuk’s bed.

You were out of his apartment before he even stirred in his sleep and since then, had been avoiding him at all costs. This included not going to any Flame’s games or going near Johnny’s apartment in fear of running in to Matthew.  

“I’ll run to the store and grab a few pregnancy tests, okay?” Becca offers, standing up from her seat and walking over to where you are sitting. You don’t notice that there are tears streaming down your face until she wipes them away with her thumbs. “Try to stay calm. I’ll be back in twenty minutes.”

Calm. You can do calm.

She gives you a sympathetic smile before leaving your apartment and all you can do is sit and wait.

“Maybe they are false positives.”

“Honey, you took seven tests.” Becca says. “I think that’s unlikely.”

Shock is the only thing you feel right now, staring down at seven pregnancy tests, all with a smiley face clear as day as if it’s mocking you. You just knew before you even took the tests but seeing the proof hit you like a freight train.

“You know it’s your choice what you decide to do, but I think Matt deserves to know.”

You’re shaking your head before the sentence is completely out of her mouth.  

“No.”

“Y/N.”

“Why does he deserve to know? All he’s going to do is tell me to get lost or accuse me of getting pregnant on purpose.” You argue and Becca shakes her head.

“Contrary to what you think, Matt isn’t a complete asshole.” She says. “I firmly believe that he wouldn’t do that.”

You frown and look back at the tests. You’ll do what you want to, but you suppose she’s right so you grab your phone and text Matthew, telling him you need to talk.

It’s less than a minute before he responds.

Sure. Meet at my place in 30?

You sigh, looking at Becca who smiles and gives you a thumbs up.

See you then.

“Couldn’t stay away, huh?” Matt asks, smirk on his face and leaning against the door.  

Normally, you’d answer back with a witty remark but you blurt out your reason for showing up right away.

“I’m pregnant.”

You were expecting a few different reactions from Matt but you weren’t expecting him to look confused.

“Um... Congratulations?” He offers, brows furrowed and a small frown on his face.  

Your jaw drops in shock and you shake your head. “Are you an idiot? Please tell me you are kidding, Matthew.”

You count to thirty in your head before his eyes widen and he takes a step backwards. His face goes very pale and for a split second, you’re worried he’s going to pass out but then he shakes his head.

“No fucking way.” He says, hands coming up to tug at his hair. “No fucking way. You have to be kidding me.”

“I’m not psyched about this either but it’s happening whether you like it or not.” You say, getting a sudden burst of confidence. “I don’t need you, Matt. I have friends and family and I can do this on my own but if you’re half the man that some people told me you are, you’ll own up to this.” Shaking your head, you start to back away. “I’ll give you some time to think. You know where to find me.”

You can feel his eyes on you as you walk down the hallway and when you look, he’s still standing in his doorway staring at you when the elevator doors close.

[dustofbrokenheart]

The Covenant: Tech Guy

Reid Garwin x Reader

Word Count: 3,826

Summary: After renting a laptop from your campus library, you run into a download problem. A call to Library Tech Services for help introduces you to Tech Guy. Good at his job, but with questionable people skills, you learn to work with him. It certainly helps that he has an attractive voice.   

This was not good, not good at all. It was less than an hour to midnight, the sun long since having set, and time seemed to pas faster, not slower, the later it got.

Now, you considered yourself to be pretty good with technology, perhaps not a computer genius but good enough to be able to troubleshoot most of your problems. It was pure bad luck that the night your capabilities failed was the night before you had an assignment due in Graphic Design.

Your own laptop had been ruined after an accident in the library had left the screen nothing more than a web of shattered fragments, but thankfully the library also carried laptops for checkout which saved you from having to fork out money that you didn’t have to buy a new one. You thought that checking out a laptop would be a quick fix to your problem, but you underestimated how high their demand was.

The librarian you spoke with at the circulation desk put you on a waiting list much to your disappointment and you left the building empty handed, unsure when one would become available.

The answer was six days later, the night before you had something due.

When they left a voicemail on your cell phone around seven o’clock to tell you that it was ready for pick-up, you immediately hopped on a bus bound for the library. The anxiety should have been somewhat alleviated because you could actually start to work on it now but when you got back to your dorm room and opened it up, another problem presented itself: the program you needed wasn’t installed.

Bad luck 1 – You 0.

Every time you tried to install it a message would pop up prompting you to enter an admin username and password in order to start the process. You had never seen that message before and innocently tried your own username and password. When that didn’t work, you tried three more times just to be sure.

Next stop was the internet, everyone’s favorite place to ask questions. You ran a quick search describing the problem and read through a couple of chat room threads. Disappointingly, nothing really applied to the situation at hand.

In hindsight, you shouldn’t have spent so much time trying to fix it because all that came of it was a lot of wasted time and you still hadn’t installed the program. You really didn’t want to take another trip to the library tonight if you could help it.

Frustrated and stuck you opened up the library’s webpage to see if there were any answers to be found. They didn’t but you did find the phone number for Library Tech Services, which was miraculously open even this late in the night.

Punching in the numbers you dialed and waited for someone to answer and when they did, it was short and to the point. “Library Tech.”

“Umm, hi… my name is y/n and I’m having an issue installing a program on my laptop rental.”

“Hmm. What’s the problem?” Again, not much to go on but the you could admit that tech guy’s voice sounded attractive.  

“Well. I clicked on the install button, but as soon as I did a message telling me that I needed admin permission to continue flashed on my screen.”

“Did you try your university username and password?”

“Yes.”

“Did you double check that you typed everything correctly?”

“Yes.”

“Did you try Google?”

“Of course, I did,” you answered with exasperation. He snickered and you felt your hackles rise. You called the number to get helped, not to get laughed at. Attractive voice be damned.

“I promise I exhausted every trick I know, I’m not stupid. But I do have something to finish tonight so if you can help me out here, that’d be great.”

For a split second you felt bad for being short with him but the aggravation was quick to return. He was the one providing terrible customer service… why should you feel bad calling him out on it?

He must’ve gotten the hint because he cleared his throat and started being serious. “The library puts restrictions on its laptops because they don’t want people downloading stuff willy nilly. What do you need to install?”

“Just Adobe Illustrator.”

You heard him typing on a keyboard in the background. “Sounds okay to me. I’ll just give you the admin credentials so you don’t have to make a trip over here tonight.”

You started to say thanks until you processed the end of that sentence. “Wait, what do you mean by that?”

“Normally we require people to come in person to fill out a form. Once the request is approved, a person is supposed to enter in the admin stuff, but I’m going to give it out over the phone to save you some time.”

His words left you speechless. You had no idea there was a whole process to do something so simple as install a program; you should’ve asked more questions before you walked out with it. It was a good thing to remember for next time. And the earlier guilt returned, too. He was being so nice now, bending the rules so you didn’t have to make another trek on the bus, which was quite frankly a gamble after dark.

You thanked him profusely, the tension draining from your shoulders. Once you told him the laptops id number and he was able to confirm that it was rented out to your account, he shared the username and password with you.  

With baited breath, you typed in exactly what he told you to and couldn’t help the happy noise that escaped you when it worked. It was impossible that tech guy saw your chair dance through the phone but he laughed again, making you question if he somehow knew anyway.

“Thanks, you’re a life saver!”  

He cleared his throat and said “Glad to be of service.” Then he hung up without another word.

You pulled the phone away from your ear and looked at it blankly. What the heck was that about? Thinking back on the conversation left you feeling very confused but you threw yourself into getting your images drawn up on Illustrator and soon lost yourself in the work.

You ended up staying up late well past your normal bedtime but the deadline was enough motivation for you to push through the drowsiness and yawns. Around 3:30 you finally finished and emailed it to the professor so you wouldn’t have to worry about it in the morning.

Sleep came easy that night and you vaguely remembered dreaming about tech guy’s voice which was utterly ridiculous. He hadn’t even mentioned his name, for goodness sakes! Plus, he was so hard to read, bouncing between jerk and nice on a whim. Nope. You were not going to stoop to finding out who he was. Not a chance.

After yesterday’s incident, your first course of the new day was to go grab a cup of coffee. You weren’t an easy riser on a good day, even less so after being up until the wee hours of the morning and caffeine was going to be essential for powering you through your classes.

Your go-to place was a campus coffee shop two blocks down from your dorm. It was still winter but you found that as long as you bundled up, the walk over went quickly and the cold air worked wonders for organizing your thoughts. But the real reason it was your favorite was not its closeness, it wasn’t even for the coffee; it was because of the heavenly pastries they made daily. The croissants, the eclairs, the danishes… they were all excellent. None was above their banana chocolate chip muffins.

A little bell chimed as you opened the door and the blast of heat from inside the shop felt nice against your chilled cheeks. The familiar worker at the register looked up and smiled when they saw you. “Hey, y/n! Should I start working on your cappuccino order?”

“Yes, please!” You approached the counter, removing your gloves to make it easier to take out your card from your wallet. A gleaming dessert case also caught your eye and you tried to glance over discreetly. As subtle as you tried to be, the cashier knew you too well after serving you for the past couple of years.

“Oh, sorry. We’re out those again.”

“Again?” you questioned sorrowfully.

He gave you a sympathetic shrug. “They’re very popular, they always go fast.”

It used to be that you could get your hands on a banana chocolate chip muffin whenever you wanted one but the secret must’ve gotten out to the rest of campus because you’d struck out for the past weeks. With a dramatic sigh, you settled for a chocolate croissant. It was no muffin but it was something to tide over your stomach until lunch.

“You know,” you started conspiratorially, “How can someone be so talented yet stupid simultaneously? If that no-good-baker bothered to make more of them knowing how fast they sell, this wouldn’t happen.”

You had never actually met the baker that was the source of the yummy pastries. In fact, you’d never even seen him and only knew that he was good at what he did and that he never came out to the front of the shop. There was really no reason why you ragged on him that morning other than you had major plans for that muffin that now had to be put on hold.

The cashier chuckled as he rang you up and looked back at the door to the kitchen for a moment. “I’ll pass along the message.” He slipped the croissant in a brown paper bag and handed it, along with the travel coffee cup, over to you.  “Have a good day. See you next time.”

You accepted it with a “You, too,” and were out the door to catch the next bus to your class.

*** 

Later that week, you ran into a familiar problem with the laptop. This time you needed to add Photoshop but figured that it shouldn’t be an issue now that you knew the password. So when you typed in the exact same thing as last time and the computer told you it was incorrect, you dragged a hand down your face and groaned. Well, you weren’t going to make the same mistake twice.

Swiveling around in your chair you grabbed your phone and called the Tech Services line again. The only thing that would make this even better would be if tech guy answered again, that’s how your luck was going that week. And sure enough, “Library Tech Services.”

You refrained from groaning again. Out loud anyway. “Hi, it’s y/n again. I was the one who called about the admin credentials Monday night?”  

“What’s up?”

“I’m trying to install Photoshop right now and it’s telling me the username/password is incorrect, which is impossible because it’s what I used the last time.”

“Right. We had to change the password for our monthly maintenance, it’s a security thing.”

“You’re kidding,” you said surprise coloring your voice. “Any chance you can share the new one with me?”

“Technically, I wasn’t supposed to give that to you last time.”

It was time to turn on the charm and convince him like you managed to previously. As you pleaded with him to do you this favor he interrupted you.

“How bad do you need it?”

What was wrong with you that hearing him say that put your mind in the gutter? He definitely hadn’t meant it that way when he said it! He was much chattier this time around so you were able to appreciate his voice better and his voice just did it for you.

You cleared your throat. “It’s not an emergency this time, no impending next-day deadlines, but I do want to get working on this new assignment…”

“Okay, okay. You’re lucky I like you.” That was news to you because you didn’t get that vibe based on the last call. It was nice to hear though. Some clicks sounded from the other end of the line and you waited silently for a few moments before he was ready to say the new password.

“Whew, we’re good to go,” you updated him as the Photoshop installation started. Another moment of silence passed.

Finally, he said a quick, “Good.”

You weren’t caught off guard when you heard the click that signaled he had hung up. Unlike the last call, he hadn’t seemed rude and he did mention that he liked you. Maybe he was just an awkward sort of guy, despite his killer voice. That might explain why he worked an IT job, weren’t those kinds of guys supposed to have terrible people skills?

You worked with Photoshop for a bit and when you reached a good stopping point, you got ready for bed. That night you laid awake for a while, unable to drift off to sleep. Instead, you replayed the conversation with tech guy over and over in your mind.

He was very helpful when he wasn’t giving an attitude and he this was the second time he had bent the rules for you. That pesky word ‘like’ kept rattling in your brain and you started to wonder if that nice voice belonged to a nice face. Furthermore, was there a chance that he found your voice attractive as well?

***

Sunday morning on a college campus seemed like a smart time to visit the coffee given that most of campus wasn’t up yet, which increased the chances of you getting your hands on a banana chocolate chip muffin. Maybe even two or three if you were honest, to make up for the past several failed attempts.

The sun hadn’t been up long when you opened the door, the little jingling bell announcing your presence. A barrage of delicious aromas caressed your nose and to your extreme delight, one of the scents you detected was a banana-chocolate combination.

You walked up to the counter and the cashier smiled as he told you good morning.

“So… can I get three banana chocolate chip muffins?”

He merely smiled and started working on your cappuccino. “Of course. Reid just finished them so they still in the kitchen, piping hot.”

Reid must be the baker that was responsible for the muffins as well as responsible for never making enough. “Finally! This is a long time coming for me.”

“I passed him your message, I think he took it to heart.” He handed over the drink and turned to go to the kitchen. “I’ll be back with the muffins.”

He pushed the door open and for a split second you caught a glimpse of a side profile belonging to a blonde guy. He was too far away to distinctly make out any facial features but he had nice shoulders framed by his black tee and obvious blonde hair that was hard to miss. He looked cute to you, at least from a distance.

Those two details were the only things you took note of before the door closed, effectively blocking you from more staring. Too bad. It was totally ridiculous to think about but tech guy’s voice would be a good combination with baker guy’s looks.

You picked at the lid of the coffee cup while you waited for the rest of your order already anticipating how they would taste. Your plan was to only eat one this morning and to ration the rest, but you were honest enough with yourself to know that you might enter a feeding frenzy and have all three finished by lunch.

When the door opened up again your eyes searched for the seemingly cute baker but there was no sign of him. There wasn’t a chance to get down about it, however, because a smile lit up your face as soon as you saw the medium sized brown paper bag that held the muffins.

“Reid says these are especially for you,” the cashier said as he lifted the bag over the register.

You were quick to raise your hands to take it from him and made sure to thank him as you left, not questioning why Reid, a person you’d never met, would make a comment like that, figuring that he was referring to how you complained that the muffins were always sold out.

The morning air was especially cold as you trekked back to your dorm, your breath condensing into a fleeting, frozen cloud around your face and the only thing keeping your hands warm was the cappuccino you held between gloved hands. Still, the trip to the coffee shop was definitely worth it and you were hoping that it was a good omen to start the day off with.

***

Perhaps you were still experiencing the high of the morning victory at the coffee shop, but later on that night while you were working on homework once again, you started thinking about tech guy again. There wasn’t any need to call him; you now had both Illustrator and Photoshop on the laptop and there wasn’t anything else that you needed to install.

Still, you debated calling him. Not because you needed to but because you wanted to. Which was weird, even to you, but you had missed him the past couple of days, bad people skills and all. After the second call, you felt even more confident that he wasn’t as condescending a guy as you had first thought him to be. And you wouldn’t mind getting to know that awkward version of him better.

The hard part was you literally knew nothing about him other than he worked the night shift at the library. You didn’t have a name, a face, not even a work schedule to confirm whether he was working tonight or not. Reid must’ve been serious when he told the cashier those muffins were made especially for you because there had to have been a secret dose of recklessness mixed in there. How else would you explain this strange, and potentially creepy, call you were about to make?

The dial tone rang and you took a deep breath, not sure how this would turn out. On the fifth ring, someone finally picked up. “Library Tech Services.”

You laughed in relief. Tech guy was the on the other end of the phone. “Hey.”

“Hey, y/n. Having another crisis?” On one hand you felt a little embarrassed that you no longer had to say your name for him to recognize your voice but on the other, the possibility that he enjoyed talking with you, too.

“It may come as a surprise but I can get through a day without having a tech issue that needs solving.”

“Oh, really?”

“I swear.” You crossed your heart even though he couldn’t see you.

“Well, what do you want then?”

Time to be brave. “Actually, I called for you.”

“I would hope so, I’m the only who works this shift meaning I’m your only option.”

“No, um, I meant I wanted to tell you thanks for helping me out with installing that stuff on the laptop. You were a lifesaver.”

“I try.”

“Seriously! I definitely would’ve missed one graphic design deadline, potentially two if you hadn’t come to the rescue.”

That seemed to get his attention. “Is that your major? Graphic Design?”

“Yep. Don’t I give off bumbling artist vibes?”

“Hmm you seem pretty confident to me but there’s nothing wrong with that. My grandma was—” He started that sentence but abruptly cut off and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Are you saying I remind you of your grandma?”

“Shit,” he grumbled. “My friends told me to stop bringing her up when talking to hot people.”

“Don’t sweat it, she sounds like she was awesome so I’m honored. But back to the part where I’m hot… do you really think so?”

“Obviously. Do you think I hand out library secrets to every person who calls? Your voice is strong and you sound super smart so I tried my best to be cool with you.”

“Okay but future tip: hanging up on people and not telling them your name is rude, not cool.”

His embarrassment was tangible through the phone and you let him sweat momentarily before speaking. “Luckily for you, I like dorks such as yourself and am willing to look past it as long as I get your name.”

“It’s Reid. Reid Garwin,” he rushed to say.

Now that was interesting. You fell back on your bed, your brain trying to make connections. The name while not super common, wasn’t rare either and what were the chances that you met two of them on the same day. If Reid with the nice body and tech guy, er, Reid with the nice voice were one in the same, you wouldn’t be upset. Quite the contrary.

“Reid as in Reid who bakes my favorite sugar fixes on campus?”

“One in the same. You seen me there before?”

“Only once,” you reveal. “When I went to pick up some muffins this today.”

It was his turn to laugh. “Wait. Are you saying that you’re that customer who called me stupid the other day?”

“…Maybe.”

“They don’t let me out front cause I’m ‘too much’ for people but rest assured that the door isn’t that thick. I feel like an idiot for not recognizing that it was you though.”

The revelation that Reid was baking a tech hero, a winning mix by the way, thrilled you all the way from your head to your toes. At the moment you didn’t even care that he heard you calling him names at the coffee shop although you were sure the mortification would set in later.

“Would you like to go out sometime—”

“You do want to go out with me sometime—”

The two of you spoke at the same time and when you realized that the other had read your mind, you both giggled.

“After you,” you assured him.

“Shit, would you like to go out sometime? There’s a restaurant downtown that’s really good and I promise not to bring up grandma Garwin again.”

The plan was to pretend to think about it but your excitement overrode your brain and you said, “Deal as long as you promise to tell me more about her, not less.”

He started to answer you but stopped suddenly and you could vaguely hear him getting scolded by someone, reminding you that technically he was still on the clock.

“Sorry,” he grumbled, “The librarian on duty told me to stop flirting and get back to work. Stop by the coffee shop tomorrow though and we can talk more.”

You said your good-byes and rolled around your bed, the comforter thoroughly rumpled by the time you stopped. It seemed that your luck may be turning around for the better.

_______________

Thanks for reading my most self-indulgent piece to date. Also my longest! Reid may consider himself to be mister cool, but he is also an awkward bean who would make a great tech guy. It's also my first time experimenting with moodboards, let me know what you think :)

[teamhappyme]

a series of promising events (4/5)

aaron hotchner x female!reader

word count: 6.7k

a/n: happy new year!! we’ve made it to part 4! this part differs from the 3 previous ones, as it takes place all in one (and a half) days. But there are flashbacks, represented with italics. if anything is confusing with the timeline, or anything else is confusing you in general, please let me know! my brain is a weird place and does not connect the dots when i post for a public audience. i hope you guys enjoy this part, it was really fun for me to write!

get ready, let’s go friends!

here are the links to part 1, part 2, & part 3

****

October 2012

“Some people care too much. I think it’s called love.” - Winnie the Pooh

You’re known for your predictability. Yes, you’re overly kind, extremely perceptive, and a little bit of a literary genius. But those closest to you knew the predictability of your life.

You craved routine. You woke up at 5:30 every morning, had breakfast, watched the news, and caught up on some domestic things before heading into the office. You stopped at the same bagel cart every morning, an Asiago bagel with butter for you and a coffee for Spencer. Monday’s, you treated the whole team. You got to work at 7:12, second only to Hotch. 

The team knew how you would react to every case. Missing or dead children would cause you to go silent, families being the target would choke you up, and anything including a scumbag with a signature kill made you nauseous. 

So it was safe to say they were more than surprised to find out that you’d left for a month long european holiday, from an email, with Strauss cc'd on it. The team couldn’t remember the last time you went on vacation, because you hadn't gone further than two hours in one day. 

In your travels through Europe, you stopped in countries that you’d only dreamt about visiting in your dreams. You saw Nyhavn, Denmark, the colorful canal right outside of Copenhagen. Hopped through Warsaw and Gdansk in Poland, before being silenced by your tour of Auschwitz. Next was France, the country you always said you would flee to once you aged out of the system. Besides hitting all the touristy attractions in Paris, you traveled through the alps, and made sure you stopped to see Giverny, the little village that inspired Claude Monet and his water lily paintings. The last true destination was Spain, jumping at the chance to flex your spanish minor muscles. You roamed Barcelona and Madrid, feeling a little like the Cheetah Girls as you stood in front of La Sagrada Familia.

The more you travelled, the more you’d thought about quitting. Thought about sending your resignation to Strauss through an email, leave your desk full of the mementos and picture frames, and continue falling in love with the continent you’d never been to before. 

But then you made your final stop in London, to the sister who you missed immensely, and lost the nerve entirely.

“You’ll regret leaving them for the rest of your life,” Emily said to you, and you wondered for a second if she was projecting her decisions onto you. 

“They don’t deserve me.” You’d mumbled out, just loud enough for her to hear. “I can’t continue on like this.”

You’d given the team everything you had for seven and a half years. The job demanded personal sacrifices you never thought you’d be capable of, until you met the people who signed on for this before you. The people who shared the same commitment to helping others, the responsibility to improve the world around them before the one that housed them. It was the first time you felt at home in your quarter century existence.

But the work never seized. The jet began to feel more like home than your apartment, hotel beds provided more comfort than your own pillow covered mattress. And no matter how many people you saved, no amount of gratification from loved ones could quell the loneliness building back inside you.

So you listened to Emily, and came back to the states on your original return flight, October 23, 2012. You returned to the real world in less than seventy-two hours and promised Garcia you would brush up on the next case before debriefing on Monday morning. 

You were betting on the fact that the team wasn’t lingering around the office, considering it was seven thirty on a friday night as you headed up in the elevator, fresh off your flight from the UK. The last thing you wanted was someone to corner you, when all you wanted to do was sleep off the lingering memories of your last night here. 

The glass doors leading into the BAU gave you a view of the bullpen; empty. Opening the door, you walked over to your desk, quickly glancing around the other spaces to see if anything had changed. It hadn’t.

Grabbing the files Garcia left on your desk and your car keys from the drawer, you tidied up the space the tiniest bit. You made sure everything was squared off to your monitor, updating the days passed on your desk calendar. You wrote a reminder on a yellow sticky to thank Reid for watering your small desk plant and stuck it to the screen for Monday. Everything looked like it was in its place, until you saw a blue stress ball sitting on your chair. Your head whipped up to the office at the top of the stairs, but the lights were off and the door shut. He wasn’t here. 

But you could feel the stare of his eyes from four weeks ago on you just the same.

You guys were working a local case in the District. 

The unsub had murdered three men, each with one shot to the head execution style. There were no signs of torture, and all three men were found with their eyes closed and arms crossed over their torsos; signs of remorse. 

It took the team thirty hours to stick the profile and find the woman responsible. Her name was Kathryn Downey, a forty two year old mother of three, with a law degree that hadn’t been used in fifteen years. After digging into the victims personal lives and her own, the motive and stressor became clear to everyone; her husband had cheated on her. 

You found Kathryn with a gun pointed to her husband’s head, his hands and feet duct taped, and a strip around his mouth keeping him silent. 

Her hands were shaking, and you knew from the second you saw her that she didn’t want to kill him. She was angry, and full of rage, but she wouldn’t be able to follow through with this.

As long as you use the right language.

“Kathryn, put the gun down, we’re with the FBI.” Hotch started in a calm voice, but she shook her head, hands shaking faster. 

“No. I have to do this. He,” She took a breath, pushing the hair out of her face with her free hand. “He has to pay.”

You glanced at Aaron before taking a step closer, slowly lowering your weapon. She needed to feel safe, and she needed to feel like an equal. 

“Kathryn, my name is y/n l/n. I’m with the Behavioral Analysis Unit from the FBI. I really want to help you through this situation, so I’m going to put my gun down, alright?” You slowly lowered the gun to the ground, kicking it back gently to Hotch. 

“Now Kathryn, I know your children are here. I don’t want anything to happen to them, and I know you don’t either, so could you tell me where they are so we can help them?” 

“In the basement, I locked them in the basement. I didn’t want them to,” She let the thought end, not wanting to manifest it into the universe. She didn’t want them to see their mother kill their father.

Hotch spoke gently into the comms, getting Morgan and Rossi down to the kids. 

“Kathryn, I want to know why we’re here in this situation. I’ve read the file, I profiled you and your family, but I want to know your side of the story. Why are you holding a gun to your husbands head?”

Her eyes widened in the slightest, and you were sure it was from the empathy in your voice. But this was your specialty, and you were determined to talk this woman down. 

“He cheated on me,” She whispered, and for a split second, you thought this was going to be easy. But then she pressed the gun harder into his head, and let out a low laugh. “After everything I’ve done for this family, for him, he just takes his pants off for another woman?”

You heard the safety click off, and Hotch’s own in return. Please do not end in a shootout.

“Kathryn, don’t look at him. Don’t think about him kneeling in front of you. Just focus on me. Tell me how you got to this moment right now.”

“How did I get to this moment? I got here by following around this sad excuse for a man for the last twenty years. Like a moth to a flame, I couldn’t escape this life of mine.” Her eyes started to water, and you internally sighed. You were getting somewhere. “I have a law degree, you know. Fifth in my class at Columbia, and I only used it for a year. And it was in sleazy corporate law. Because I got married, and I got pregnant, and Sean wanted someone to stay home with the kids.

“I went from the intelligent corporate attorney with her eyes set on the attorney general’s office, to a cliche housewife who spends her days cleaning and dotting on her husband and kids. I never wanted to be this woman,” She closed her eyes, letting the tears fall down her face freely. She looked so young in this vulnerable state, too young to have three children. Yet she looked so tired, and so defeated. “I gave up everything for this family. I gave up my career, friends, bucket list dreams, and a life that was waiting to be lived, for this man. I cater to his every need, I listen to him drone on about work, assure him when he’s feeling anxious, and give in when he needs a release. I am my children’s rock; when they need a shoulder to cry on I’m there in a second. They need help with their math homework, I’m the number one girl. But when it’s my turn to fall apart, when it’s my turn to be lifted up and supported, nobody is there for me. And he should be able to be there for me.”

If you hadn’t undergone intense training at Quantico, you would’ve been in tears by now. You empathized with this woman more than you should, and you were trying so desperately to help her out of this situation. So you continued to dig your fingernails into your palms, and spoke again. 

“I know what you’re feeling, Kathryn.”

“You don’t know what I’m feeling!” Wrong move. She ripped the gun away from her husband and fixed the trigger on you. Hotch moved so that he was only one step behind you, trying to get her to lower the gun. “You have no idea what this is like!”

“I do, Kathryn. I promise you I do. I may not be a wife, or a mother, but I know what it’s like to give yourself completely to a person. I know what it’s like to hold onto the stress and fears of the people you love. I understand, because I’m this person too.

“People like you and me, we feel the need to be the emotional support for everyone we love. We never want to see them struggle, and we never want to see them in pain. So, we listen. We overcompensate to make them feel better, and we check in regularly to make sure they’re okay. Our happiness, as strange and sad as it may be, is directly linked to theirs. We can’t be happy unless they’re happy. But once they come out of their depression, once they thank us for being the light in their lives, they walk away, and take the happy rainbow with them. And they don’t leave any for us.” Tears continued to fall down her face, but you needed to go further. She was going to break if you kept going. “Kathryn, I was in your position not long ago. I remember what it feels like when you realize that the love you have for someone won’t be reciprocated. That after everything you’ve done for them, all the small moments that you succeeded in taking their grief away and bringing happiness back into their life, they still don’t appreciate you. And it’s heartbreaking.

“But I’m standing across from you today, on the other side of that pain, trying to tell you that it gets better. It doesn’t go away, but it gets a hell of a lot better, Kathryn. So please, do not let this one moment that you couldn’t take the pain away ruin all the times you did.” 

You expected the tears. You expected an emotional end to this situation. You didn’t expect Kathryn Downey to drop her gun in the middle of the room, and collapse onto you. But that’s exactly what she did. And instead of letting go to untie her husband, instead of joining Hotch in cuffing her, you held her for a minute. You held her breaking heart in your hands, and tried your hardest to take away all her fears and pain for once in her life. 

After a minute, you pulled away and grabbed a hold of her upper arm. She gave you a slight nod, knowing this is what was always going to happen. You led her down the stairs and into the back of a squad car, as Aaron helped the husband to his children once outside of the house. 

You were leaning against the suburban that you came in, watching as the team debriefed with the local pd before being dismissed. But amongst the chaos, Hotch found your eyes, and gave you a knowing look. One that meant you were going to talk through the very personal negotiation you gave.

The team arrived back at the office just shy of ten o’clock, Penelope waiting for Derek at the elevator. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder as you led the gang into the bullpen, everyone dropping their go bags at their desks. 

You lingered for a moment as Hotch made his way up to his office, knowing you’d be joining him in a few seconds. You grabbed your blue stress ball, complimentary from the C.A.L.M. department meeting, as through the curtains you could see him drop his bag before checking his phone for any messages from Jack.

“L/n,” Here it comes. “Can I talk to you in my office please?”

You and Spencer shared a look, and he gave you a comforting smile in return. You took the steps two at a time to his office, and shut the door behind you once you arrived. He was standing behind his desk, so you didn’t feel the need to sit yourself.

You waited for him to speak, since he was the one that called you in. It was a little childish, but you weren’t the one who wanted the discussion.

“I want to talk about the negotiation.”

“I thought it was pretty successful. I empathised, I got her to drop her weapon, and no one was injured in the process.”

“Y/n, you know that’s not what I meant.” He uncrossed his arms, letting out a sigh. The two of you were too exhausted to have this conversation, but that wasn’t going to stop Hotch from going on. “I told you that you could lean on me when it all became too much.”

“That was six years ago, Hotch.” Defensive, but not rude. A fine line. “And this wasn’t about work, this was personal. You’re not obligated to listen to our personal issues that take place outside the office.”

“And you are?” Stop spinning my words, Hotchner. “I know you, y/n. This isn’t just something that can be brushed back under the rug.” You scoffed. “You don’t know me.”

“Excuse me?”

“You don’t know me, Hotch. None of you do. You know my file. You know that I got a full ride to Bowdoin, that I was a social worker before transferring here, and that most of my life before eighteen was sealed away. I confided in you six years ago about my childhood and now you think you know me?”

“Why are you getting so defensive?”

“I’m not-” You paused, knowing that if you finished that statement it would, in fact, be defensive. “I’m just really tired and I don’t want to be having this conversation right now.”

“It’s not healthy for you to keep everything in while people spill their lives to you. And you know that.”

“Hotch,” You warned, your exhaustion quickly turning into rage.

“What, you really think I’m just going to drop this after hearing you confess to a serial killer that you have no joy in your life? And now you’re going to try and convince me that I don’t know anything about you? Bullshit, y/n. I know that you talk to your foster siblings every sunday to check in and make sure they’re all doing okay. I know that you volunteer with Garcia to help the families of victims cope with their loss. I know that you cling to Spencer like gum wherever you go to make him feel less insecure in a bar.”

“Stop it,”

“I know that your favorite color is purple, that you still write articles for CNN and The Times under a pseudonym. And I know, more than anything in the world, you want to be the mother that you never got to have.”

“Stop it!” You threw the blue ball into his builtins, hitting one of his stupid administrative awards in the process. He didn’t even flinch. “You don’t get to know me like that.”

“Why not?” You let out a low laugh as tears started to fill in your eyes. He was oblivious, and that's what made it hurt even more. You cracked your knuckles for a few seconds, waiting for him to connect the words you spoke at the Downey house and your frustration with him in this moment.

But his face softened, the wrinkles disappeared from his forehead, and you knew he figured it out. He didn’t need to say the words for you to know exactly what was going through his head. But he was with Beth, and you were not going to interfere. This wouldn’t change anything.

“It’s late, I should head home. I’ll get you my report before monday.”

You left his office without saying goodnight, and you tried to ignore the rest of your team huddled around Morgan’s desk, pretending not to be eavesdropping. But they totally were. 

Instead you grabbed your bags, giving Spencer a reassuring smile as his gaze lingered on you for a second longer. You had no intentions of turning around to see Hotch’s face. But if you had, you would’ve seen the same heartbroken expression across his face, realizing he let you walk away.

You tore your eyes away from the office, not wanting to relive the memory any longer. You stashed the stress ball under your monitor before turning out the light, and making your way back to the elevator.

Once you were settled back in your apartment, you sent a text to Reid and JJ, letting them know you got in okay and that you’d see them at the office on Monday. After getting a thumbs up and a ‘glad you’re home’ in response, you turned in for the night, trying to dream of nights in Paris and Barcelona instead of at the BAU.

---

It was hard for you to get back in the routine of consulting and profiling. Garcia had left you copies of three cases the team was going to be working on when you returned, and you’d barely worked through the first one in two hours. 

Three teenagers went missing from their small town in Idaho, and all were found in Seattle in the same week. Of course, your first case back included kids. 

You resorted to calling Spencer when you really had no idea where to begin. You felt like a rookie all over again, asking for help when creating a geographical profile or running new negotiation tactics. But your best friend was quick to help, assuring you that once you got back to the office, you’d fall back into the routine.

“Did you have a good time?” He finally asked, albeit apprehensively. You didn’t leave on the best terms with anyone, and they all seemed to know what pushed you over the edge.

“I did. It’s amazing to know that there is a whole other world out there that we don’t even know about. It’s so different over there, Spence. It’s peaceful, and beautiful, and everything the place you call home should be.”

You could hear the intake of breath over the line. “Does that mean you’re moving to Spain?” A smile crossed your lips just thinking about Barcelona. But, it wasn’t home.

“This is my home, Spencer. I’m not leaving anytime soon.” You left out the part about contemplating a new life for the better part of three weeks, knowing it would only cause him more paranoia. You were staying in Quantico, continuing what you were born to do.

After drafting a rough profile and reviewing family statements, you took a break from the paperwork staring back at you all morning. 

You made your way into the kitchen to find something for lunch, the afternoon approaching quick. All you really wanted to do was crash on the couch and watch old movies for hours, until monday morning inevitably rolled around. Selfishly you wanted your vacation to last forever. But your mind, and your bank account, thought differently.

After consuming a sandwich and some chips, you brought back the fresh mug of hot chocolate to the kitchen table, ready to take on the second file. Two women raped, tortured, and murdered outside of Miami. Why the fuck did it always have to be Florida.

Halfway through the family statements, there was a knock at your door. You grabbed your gun from the side table, just in case. Only three people had a key to your apartment. One of them was in England, one you just got off the phone with, and one… you didn’t exactly know where you stood with him.

After checking the peephole and seeing Hotch on the other side, you let out a sigh of relief. No one is coming to muder you. But it was quickly replaced with the memories of your last encounter, and the unspoken realization of feelings unrequited.

You placed your gun back on the table, and unlocked the door for him. He was wearing a navy blue quarter zip, jeans, and sneakers, the ultimate Aaron Hotchner not on duty look. It made your heart beat just a little faster noticing his hair was free of any gel, flopping naturally as he walked. 

“Hi,” You greeted him, half of you hidden behind your front door. 

A shadow of a smile crossed his lips, and he placed his hands in his pockets. “Hi. I’m sorry for stopping by unannounced. I know you must be tired and getting ready for Monday.”

“No, it’s okay. Did you want to come in?” You opened the door a little more, stepping out to show your sweatpants and sweatshirt look from behind the door.

“Thank you.” He murmured as he walked through the entrance, moving to take off his shoes. You told him a million times that you didn’t follow that rule, and that you hated it when people made their guests remove their shoes. But he told you once that it was a sign of comfort, that he felt at ease in someone else's home.

“Can I get you something to drink? I have some tea bags left over I think, or I can make you a cup of coffee.”

“No, I’m okay.” 

“Are you sure? It’ll only take a second. Oh, are you hungry? I still have some sealed crackers from before I left, might have something in the freezer if-”

“Y/n,” He interrupted you and you stopped in the middle of your path to the kitchen. “I’m fine.”

“Okay,” You nodded, making your way back to the living room. “Oh, I um, got something for Jack while I was in England with Emily. I know it’ll probably keep him holed up in his room for a week, but I couldn’t resist.” 

You pulled out the bag of souvenirs you got for the team, grabbing the London attractions lego set you bought for the young boy. Aaron smiled when you handed it to him, knowing the two of them would no doubt be starting this when he got home. 

“You didn’t have to get this for him. But he’s gonna love it.” 

“I know.” You reached in the bag once more, pulling out the gift you got for Aaron. “And I know you’ll probably never wear this, but I had to get it for you.”

He opened the box, a british flag tie on the inside. He couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his lips, the tacky gift really meaning a lot to him. “Thank you. I can honestly say this is the most unique gift I’ve ever received.”

“Glad to hear it.” You tucked your foot underneath you as you settled onto the couch, letting Aaron set the gifts aside. You knew what conversation was coming next, but you didn’t have the courage to start it. Especially since he was the one to come to you.

He settled in on the couch, a cushion between the two of you, a clear boundary that he’d set. 

“Did you enjoy your time over there?” 

“I had a really great time. I can’t believe I’d gone thirty two years without leaving the country. You don’t realize how much of the world there is to see until you go and uncover a small fraction of it.”

He smiled while beginning to pick at his fingernails. This was a new tell of his, he was usually extremely reserved with his anxiety. “You sound like Emily.” 

“I’m going to take that as a complement.” You said with a small laugh, adoring the woman across the ocean. 

“It is. She called me a few days ago, told me you guys had a nice visit.” 

“We did. Prentiss knows how to have a good time no matter the city. It was a little too much for me, though.” 

“Nobody can quite keep up with Emily.” He added before letting out a breath.

“She also told me that you were contemplating leaving the BAU.” There goes the first shoe, dropping from the ceiling. “Are you still thinking of quitting?”

“No.” It was the truth. Em had spoken some sense into you, and you knew deep down, like you told Spencer, this was your home. “I just needed a break from everything. And Europe was an amazing distraction. But I’m back, and ready to get back into the swing of things.”

He nodded, some tension slowly released from his shoulders. He couldn’t lose another member. It was too soon.

“Was it because of me?” 

“What?” Even though you were expecting this conversation, it still caught you off guard. 

“I’m not conceited enough to think you fled to another continent because of a fight, but is that what pushed you over the edge? What led you to want to quit the BAU?”

In a word, yes. The argument was the last straw on the camel's back. You’d spent years with this unit, fulfilling a destiny that you made up for yourself so that you wouldn’t feel guilty for not having a family or friends to confide in. You spent the better part of the last three years pining for a man you couldn’t have, trying to fill the holes in your life by playing pretend. So yes, it was Hotch that pushed you over the edge. But you learned a hell of a lot about yourself in those four weeks.

“Hotch, did you know that this was the first time I went on an airplane for my own enjoyment? This was the first vacation I’ve been on in my life. I booked a flight on a Thursday night that left at six a.m. the next morning. I was spontaneous, and in control of all the moves I would make for the next thirty days. I’ve never felt more liberated in my life.

“But then I landed in Copenhagen, and had an anxiety attack. I can’t speak Danish, I have no idea how to get around a new country, and I only had thirty dollars in cash to my name. And the only thing I could think of to help me get through it, was calling you. I had your contact pulled up, ready to call you and tell you what a stupid fucking mistake I made. But then I could hear your voice in my head, saying ‘I know you’, and I’d never turned my phone off faster.”

“Y/n,” He sounded exhausted himself, but you weren’t going to give in to the apologies. Not yet.

“I had the time of my life there. I went to places that I never thought I’d get to see in my life. Places that my foster parents told me I’d never be important enough to go to. But I made it. I made it to Giverny, and I saw what inspired Claude Monet to paint the Water Lilies series with my own eyes. I went inside La Sagrada Familia and walked on the steps that Gaudi dreamt of. I saw everything I wanted to, and I wept every place I went to. Because I got myself there. I persevered and worked my ass off my whole life, to get there. I didn’t have any parents, I didn't have any siblings, a spouse, or children. I did it all by myself, and it felt pretty amazing to accomplish that.

“No one knows me like I do.” You finished. Your walls were back up starting to feel secure in your own skin again. 

He stayed silent for a few minutes, maintaining eye contact with you the entire time. He was calculating his response, trying to formulate the perfect response to get the two of you back on track. It was exhausting watching his brain work, and you wondered how tired he must always be.

After another minute, he sighed and dropped his hands into his lap. “Beth and I broke up two weeks before you left.” The other shoe had dropped.

“What?” For the second time tonight, you were rendered speechless by Aaron Hotchner. This was not the response you were expecting, and not the news you expected to hear anytime soon. The two of them were obsessed with one another, how could they just end it?

“We ended it two weeks before your trip. She accepted a job in Kyoto, and didn’t want to string me along with long distance. But she also said she knew my heart wasn’t in it anymore.”

You stood up from the couch, not being able to sit still with this new information. Hotch and Beth were no longer together, he said all those things to you as a single man, understood what you felt for him, and still let you walk out of his office. For four weeks. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” It was his turn to stand, still leaving enough distance between the two of you to continue your pacing. 

“Don’t deflect to another conversation.” 

“You’re the one that brought it up!”

He sighed, running a hand through his perfectly shaggy hair. “I don’t want to have this conversation with you again. So please, get it through your thick skull when I tell you that I know you. And I don’t mean that on a bureaucratic superior level. I know you, y/n. And just because you’ve been alone your whole life, doesn’t mean you deserve to be alone for the rest of it.” 

Your eyes started to water, so you looked away, gluing your line of sight to the wall next to you.

“You give us all one hundred and ten percent of your attention when we need you. And when I say all of us, that includes Jack and Henry. I’ve never met someone so intune to another person's feelings, who exudes so much empathy with one look and a smile. And we’ve taken you for granted for seven and a half years. Me the most.” Your eyes found his brown ones, begging you to continue looking at him. “I couldn’t have gotten through Haley’s death without you. And that is the biggest understatement of the decade. I am eternally grateful for all that you’ve done for me and Jack. But at the same time, I’m so sorry that it pushed me further and further away from you.”

His own eyes started to water, and he choked out a laugh. “What you said to Kathryn Downey, about giving yourself completely to a person and not getting the love reciprocated. I felt like an absolute idiot for not realizing that you felt the same way I did.” You closed your eyes with his confession, letting the tears roll down your cheeks. 

“There were so many times I wanted to tell you. But then Haley took Jack, and Foyet came, and the world got away from me. And I’m so sorry that you’ve felt the need to carry all our problems on your own.”

“Hotch, you don’t have to apologize.”

“Please, don’t call me Hotch right now.” He took a step toward you. “It’s Aaron, when I’m standing in front of you, begging you to just let me in.”

“I don’t,” Your voice cracked, and you rubbed your hands over your face in frustration. “I don’t know how to let someone love me.”

“I know,” He took another step closer. “You’re just going to have to trust me when I tell you I’ve been in love with you for years.”

He didn’t see the rest of your tears fall, because you threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face in his shoulder. His arms found their place around your waist, pulling you two impossibly close.

“I love you, Aaron.” You could feel him laughing with his chest pressed against your own, and he moved to kiss the side of your head. 

“I love you.” He whispered back, causing the last of your tears to fall onto his sweatshirt.

He started to pull away, just enough to get a look at your face. His eyes were no longer filled with tears, but his cheeks still glistened when the light illuminated the damp spots on his face. He brushed a piece of hair behind your ear, letting his knuckles gently graze your temple. You caught his hand in the middle of his movement, lacing your fingers with his own. You’d been dying to know what it felt like to hold his hand like this for years, when you found yourself comforting him in his office one night, lightly holding his hand in yours. But this was so much better.

“You good?” He asked, and the corners of your mouth turned up the slightest. 

“I’m good.” He traced the lightest check mark on your laced hands, causing a true smile to grace your face.

“You have a tally to see who can make me smile the most?” 

“It’s just mine. Been keeping it for years. But I’m always in the lead.”

You laughed while letting go of his hand, wrapping your arms back around his neck. His eyes flickered to your lips for a second before looking back at you. You gave him a small nod, knowing he was asking for your permission. 

When his lips met yours, you knew this was the feeling that all the fairytales sang about. He was gentle at first, slotting your upper lip between his own. It was slow, and full of love from the years of knowing one another inside and out. He bit your lower lip softly, barely there, and you slowly parted your lips, letting him trace your tongue with his own. 

All you could think about was how warm he was, how his breath was actively leaving his lungs and entering your own as if you were one person. It was all consuming, and you were grateful that he took the lead, because you couldn’t focus on anything but him.

His hands slipped under your sweatshirt, resting on the skin just above your hips. You let out a small gasp as his cold fingers made contact with the sensitive skin, but it only made him laugh into the kiss. 

After a few more moments of getting lost in the feel of one another, you reluctantly pulled away, needing air to fill up your lungs. But Aaron didn’t go far, gently resting his forehead against your own. 

“I love you. And I don’t think I’m ever going to be able to stop telling you.” You closed your eyes and tilted your head up, slowly kissing him again. 

“I’ll never get sick of hearing it.” You mumbled, your lips still grazing his own. He smiled into the kiss, which only made your heart glow brighter and brighter the more he showed you how he felt.

You pulled away first, tracing the outline of his jaw with your thumbs. “You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” He tilted his head to the side, just enough to press a kiss to the palm of your hand. 

The tenderness this man exudes is beyond belief. “I really love you, Aaron.”

He laughed while pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’m glad to hear that.”

You let him hold you for what felt like an eternity, but in reality was only a few minutes. “I promised Jack I would take him out for ice cream to make up for missing his soccer game last night.” 

“Okay,” You said and started to pull away, but his grip on your waist only tightened.

“Really? You’re just gonna let go without a goodbye?” You laughed at his fake hurt expression, so incredibly happy that you get to see Aaron in this light, enjoying his son, his life, and you. 

“I’m not about to stand in the way of Jack Hotchner and a sugar rush. That guy loves his sugar.”

He let go of your waist, but not without a light squeeze to your sides. “I know we literally just started this, but I really would like to tell him. I don’t want to keep any more secrets from him than I have to.”

You smiled at the thought of Aaron telling Jack how in love the two of you were. It made you feel complete, in a way you never thought you’d get to experience in your life.

“Tell him. As long as he doesn’t blab about it to anyone on the team just yet.” 

“You sure?” You nodded while passing him the souvenirs as he slipped his sneakers back on. 

“Aaron, he’s your son. I’ve loved him as long as I’ve loved you, maybe even longer.”

He stood up once again, that stupid smile not willing to leave his face any time soon. 

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you.” 

“Must’ve been something pretty good.” You said with a laugh, which he silenced by placing his lips on yours. You hoped the butterflies you felt now would be there every time he kissed you, no matter how many years have passed. 

“Like that.” You said once he pulled away. His dimples were showing now, and you wished that you could take a picture of him in this happy moment and remember it for the rest of your lives. 

“I’ll call you tonight.” He said and opened the front door. 

“Okay. Have fun, tell Jack I said hi.” 

“I will.” He kissed your cheek before starting the walk back down the hallway. He didn’t even make it halfway before turning around, and giving you one final kiss in the doorway. 

“Love you,” He said and gave you one more peck, before you shoved his shoulder. “I love you too. Now get outta here, Hotchner.”

****

tags: @simplyprentiss @michaelahah @ssahotchner99 @svrgicalhands @hotchtopic @unionjackpillow @philcoolson @tommhollandzxhaz @kathleenjasmine @canimarrypizzaornah @reaperwalking @inlovewithaaronhotchner @shelbymm11 @mrshotchner23 @tropicalwrites @averyhotchner @dreamy-moments @softhxtch @crazymar15 @theinsanespaceship15 @wecouldbreakthedistance @jeor @funnycuteandannoying @andherestograce @thisisntjuliana @captwilson @kennedyblair @lovelysunflowerxoxo @rcompton @iifaequeenii @iwaizumiee @mrsaaronh0tchner @abbeyannsmith-blog @becausehello @rinacriedpower @ssa-raye @ephemeral-barnes @slxtherinchxser @baueoud @lieswithoutfairytales @hug-a-bug-boo @blogmythoughts @freebanditghostcalzone @sugarbutterbailey

[bqstqnbruin]

Teach me something 2

It is 2:30 in the morning and here I am dropping something that is so cheesey we should call it fondue (ignore me I’m tired)

BUT this is the fic that I was talking about that I decided is going to turn into a four part mini series, so I hope you like this. Sorry for typos, but y’all know me well enough by now to expect them.

Read the other parts: part 1 // part 3 // part 4

---------

“Hey, guys, come on! I asked you to do this silently, this is not something we’re doing as partners,” you yell over your students. “The only reason you should be talking right now is if you are asking me a question and Josh is the only one doing that right now.”

Your students are not listening to you; it was the end of the day and a beautiful day at that. With the weather getting warmer and nicer compared to the winter you just had, the last thing your students wanted was to be doing chemistry; they wanted to be outside. 

“Excuse me!” you end up yelling, something you hadn’t done before, causing some of your students to jump, “If you’re trying to be louder than me, it’s not going to work. Do you want to see how loud I can be?” You couldn’t believe you were yelling at your students, but for some reason, you were just at a breaking point. You see Annie across the room, eyes wide, shaking her head no at you being the loudest one, “Annie is saying no, do you guys agree?” 

The students murmur in agreement, not talking and leaving the classroom in an awkward silence. Before turning back to Josh, you close your eyes, taking in a deep breath to try to calm yourself down a little before talking again, “I’m sorry guys, but I did say that this was something you should be trying on your own. If you have questions, ask your partner quietly. There is no need for me to have to shout over you.” 

The entire week had been absolute chaos: the lab you wanted to do with your students didn’t work the way you wanted to, the warm weather was causing your students to act absolutely batshit by the end of the day, you hadn’t seen your husband since Sunday because of how busy he was gearing up for the playoffs with the Flames, and you were just overall falling behind on everything you wanted to do. Nothing was going right for you. 

You sit down for the first time since lunch, your students working quietly the rest of the period, only whispers of sound as they asked each other questions they were probably too afraid to ask you at this point. The bell rings, signaling the end of the week, your students scurrying out as fast as they can, hopefully just to get outside and not to get away from you. 

Searching through your desk, you finally find your phone buried under papers that you had to take home and grade that weekend. The end of the quarter was coming up, and you had at least seven assignments to get through and put in your grade book. Shoving them in your bag, you find Matthew’s contact, hoping that he was finally out of practice to pick up. 

“You have reached the voicemail box of: Matthew Tkachuk,” you hear his voice intertwined with the automation for the voicemail greeting he was too lazy to customize, “Please leave a message after the tone.” 

“Hey, babe,” you say, looking at the ring on your finger, “I’m done for the week, I’m probably going to be heading home soon but I want to try to get some grading done first. Any way you can pick something up for dinner tonight? I’m exhausted and I just don’t feel like cooking, unless you want to. Ok, call me when you’re out of practice. I love you, bye.” 

You keep your phone out on your desk, sound on for if Matthew actually calls you. The entire week had been a game of telephone tag, and you were praying you would finally catch each other before actually seeing each other at home. 

“Hey, Mrs. T?” 

“Oh, hi, Nazeem, what’s up?” you greet one of your students as he comes in and sets his bag down on the lab bench.

“I was wondering if you could help me with those K problems?”

You sit down and get started, working on practice problems and trying to reteach him the equilibrium problems, “Ok, so for this problem, are we at equilibrium?”

“No.”

“How do we know that?” 

“Um, because it says that,” he hesitates, scanning the words of the practice problem again, “the concentration of the NH3 is 0.405 molar, and it asks for the direction of the equilibrium shift?” he guesses.

“Yes, but you’re guessing aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” he admits, causing you to let out the first small laugh you had all week.

“Ok, so with these problems, it’s important that you know you can’t just use K, right? Because K is used for what?”

He stops and thinks for a moment, brow scrunched as he tries to answer your question, “When you have initial concentration and you’re looking for equilibrium?”

“You’re guessing again,” you tell him as he just nods admitting to it, “You clearly know the answers to what I’m asking, there’s no need to guess. Trust your answers, you’re going to need to on your final. But if we aren’t going to use K, what are we going to use?”

“Q.” 

“Exactly. Calculate that, and then call me back, I’m going to grade some stuff, ok?” He nods, putting his head down to his paper to get to work. You go back to your desk and start grading, checking your phone to see if Matthew had at least texted you back. Nothing on your screen but the picture of your first kiss as husband and wife that you had as your background for the last couple of months. You would give anything right now to go back to the month leading up to your wedding last summer; you and Matthew were both off from teaching and hockey, spending a month of bliss together doing whatever you wanted. 

“Mrs. Tkachuk?” you hear Nazeem ask, snapping you out of your daydream, “I think I got Q.”

“Let’s see. Ok, so you found that Q is 0.233, while K is given as 0.00542. So what does that mean for the equilibrium shift?”

“It shifts to the,” he starts, hesitating, only to be interrupted by the sound of your phone playing John’s Legend’s Stay With You, the song that was your first dance at your wedding. “Do you need to get that?” he asks, looking panicked that you would leave him for your phone call.

You knew it was Matthew calling you back, but you were with a student, therefore, still at work, “No, that’s just Mr. Tkachuk. I can call him when I’m on my way home.” The two of you get back to the problem, working for another half an hour before he finally says his mom was there to pick him up.

“Thank’s Mrs. T!” Nazeem calls, rushing out the door to meet his mom in front of the building. 

Finally able to go back to your phone, none of your grading done that you had wanted to get done, copies that you just remembered you had to make for Monday, and a new voicemail to listen to. “Hey, love. Sorry I missed you. I’m just getting out of practice. I have an early day tomorrow and then they just told us today that we’re leaving for Dallas on Monday instead of Tuesday like we were originally supposed to. I’ll see you at home, but is there anything specific that you want me to get? Chinese, Italian, sushi, burgers, etcetera, etcetera. Honestly, all of that sounds good to me. Ok, I love you, bye.” 

You send the stuff you need printed, pretty much sprinting down the now deserted hallways as you were probably the last teacher there. “Hey, Matthew. I guess you’re driving? God, I can’t wait to get home and see you, especially since I’ve seen you all of, what, twenty minutes since last week? And get whatever you want, I don’t care, but oh, can you please do the dishes? They’re piling up in the sink and I’m pretty sure most of them are yours,” you tell him, even though that doesn’t really matter. The copier starts growling at you, spitting out the copies as you pray that it doesn’t crap out on you in the middle of the print job, “Sorry, that’s the copier. Remember the day I told you about being in the Stampede, you wanted to push the buttons on this thing? Maybe next time you come you can play with it, admin said when it breaks for it good we can get a new one. Welp, ok. I love you, see you at home.” 

You get back to your classroom, stuffing the folders with the fresh copies, thinking back to that day a few years ago when Matthew had been doing the same thing. Matthew hadn’t really been in to visit during the school year since, but he was always the first one to offer to come in when you said you needed help with something, even if it was something he couldn’t help with. 

Driving back to your apartment, you just want Matthew to call. Packing up your bag and lugging out the 210 or so things you needed to grade, plus the material you needed to play the lessons for the next week that you were still struggling with actually exhausted you. The only thing you wanted to do was go home and see your husband for a night before he had to be whisked away a day earlier than originally planned to spend what would now be six days in Texas. 

But the NHL and the Flames were pretty good about letting the guys know about schedule changes. It seemed sort of weird that the organization would let them know only a few days ahead of time. You could text Noah or Johnny and ask them about it, but what would that say about your marriage to Matthew that you’ve been together for less than a year and you’re already going behind his back to get information?

You know what? Screw it. “Call Johnny,” you say to Siri, Johnny’s contact coming up on your car dash. 

“Hello?” you hear him ask, clearly tired from the day he had.

“Hey, Johnny, it’s Y/N.”

“Oh, hey, Y/N. What’s up? Is Matthew ok?” 

“He’s fine, I just needed to ask you something,” you start, trying to figure out how to phrase it. You can’t straight up ask him if your husband was lying to you, but how to you put it otherwise? “I just wanted to check in; I heard you guys just found out today that you leave on Monday instead of Tuesday? I figured I’d offer to pick up some last minute things since I’m already doing it for Matty.” 

“Oh, no, thanks. I’m all set. They told us about it last Wednesday, though. Matthew didn’t tell you?” 

So he was lying? Or did he just forget to tell you until today? Either way, he shouldn’t have said that they found out today, he could have just said he didn’t remember. “I mean, I just remembered today. You know, long week, my students driving my crazy, normal stuff. But if you need anything, let me know. Tell Sean and Elias the same for me, too.” 

“Gotcha. Bye, Y/N.” 

He hangs up, leaving you to pull into your spot at your complex just in time to see Matthew running out the door. “Hey, babe!” he says, kissing you as you get out of your car. He was unusually happy for someone who seemed so tired on the phone. And for someone who just lied to his wife. “I’m running out to get the food now; I’ll be back in fifteen?”

“Ok,” you say, without being able to get another word in before he gets in his car and speeds off. You didn’t even know what you were eating, but at this point you would eat anything. You grab your bag, momentarily forgetting how heavy it was, lugging it inside to your place. All you wanted was to have a nice evening with your husband, one of the last ones you would probably be able to have for a while.

Wandering into the kitchen to put clean out your lunch bag, you find the sink full of dishes, indicating that Matthew had not loaded the dishwasher, even though you had asked him to. Sighing, putting your bag down on the counter, you get to work on the dishes. You probably needed something from the sink in the near future, and something told you Matthew wasn’t going to be getting to this any time soon. 

Digging through the dishes, you prayed that none of them had started growing new substances that you didn’t want to deal with. Loading the dishwasher to capacity and still having more dishes, you sigh and just hand wash what was left. Mugs from last the beginning of the weak, plates, utensils, until you saw it: the handle of one of your favorite mugs, the rest of the mug not attached. Careful to dig around the rest of the sink, you found the rest of the mug, smashed under the weight of the dishes that had been sitting there. You had only liked the mug so much because it was the biggest one you had; there was nothing that special about it.

But it was enough for you to break, just like the mug had. All of the stress of the week came out right there, with you crumble to the floor crying, pulling your knees to your chest with your back against the cabinets, pieces of the mug still in your hands. Everything was getting to be too much, between constantly feeling behind at work, coming home almost every night to an empty apartment, doing everything to keep the apartment clean by yourself, and Matthew never being home was destroying you. You knew this would be hard when you said yes, but you never thought it would be this hard. 

“Hey, babe, I got us burgers,” you hear Matthew call, walking into the kitchen, “Oh, my god, Y/N, are you ok?” He puts the bag down next to you, getting on the ground and pulling you into him. “What’s wrong?” he asks, kissing the top of your head. 

You hold up the pieces of the mug, trying to stop crying. “Shit,” Matthew lets out once he realizes what you’re holding, “Did you drop it? Why are you sitting down, there could be shards on the ground.”

He picks you up off the ground, grabbing the food with his other hand. “No, I didn’t drop it,” you hear yourself yell, all of the crying turning into anger, “I found it broken in the sink because I have been asking you to do the dishes and the weight of everything on top of it probably broke it!” 

“I’m, I’m sorry,” he stammers out, “I’ve been busy with practice and we’re leaving soon, and-”

“Like I haven’t been busy? I have a weeks work of assignments to catch up on grading, I need to plan the rest of next weeks lessons, make the tests for my AP kids because last years sucked, plus I’ve been the one keeping everything clean and the one thing I asked you to do, you couldn’t even fucking do that. Plus, you lied to me about when you found out you were leaving on Monday instead of Tuesday.”

“What are you talking about?” 

“Johnny told me.”

“You were talking to Johnny?”

“Yeah, I was talking to Johnny; I’m friends with him, too, remember? I asked him if he wanted me to pick anything up for him before you guys leave, like I always do, and he told me you found out last Wednesday? Why would you lie about it?”

“Well, what about the fact that you lied to me about dancing with the stampede?”

You stop and look at him, his face red as you can tell the anger is boiling up inside him. He hated that you had to go behind his back like that. But, you were due for a fight, you just wish it wasn’t over something so stupid like this, especially when he dodged your question in the first place. 

 “What are you talking about? That was five years ago. And I never lied to you about that!”

“It’s not like you told me the truth.”

“That doesn’t mean I lied about it,” you say, both of you raising your voices each time as if to outdo the previous voice level, “and if we’re really going to hash out and bring up stuff that we already said doesn’t matter, what about that time we went out with the guys and ran into, what, five girls you had hooked up with before you met me? How about we talk about that?”

“That doesn’t matter,” he snaps. 

“Oh, it doesn’t? It doesn’t matter that you introduced me to them as your friend when we were engaged, only for one of them to tell me about all the sexcapdes you had, none of which I knew about. But that’s right, we had a night when we talked about all our past relationships to get them out in the open, hookups included, but I guess those girls just slipped your mind, didn’t they?” As soon as the words left your mouth, you regretted it. 

The look on Matthew’s face was one you had never seen before and never wanted to see again; the pain in his eyes as his face calmed from red to pink, trying to figure out if any of this was worth it. He turns around, facing the counter instead of you. He couldn’t take the look on your face any more than you could take the look on his.

“How can I expect to raise a family with you if you can’t even wash the damn dishes, Matthew!” 

He whips around, eyes wide. “A..a fa-family?” he stammers out. “Are you?”

“What?” you ask, not sure what he means. “Oh, no, no I’m not. I’m just saying. We’ve talked about kids. We both want kids, hell we even already have names picked out. But how the hell am I supposed to be able to depend on you when you’re home to take care of children if you can’t even take care of you and me?” 

“I do take care of you! I have done nothing but love you and support you in what you do with your life. You think that you would be living here if it weren’t for me?” He says, immediately recoiling at what he just said. He knows that teachers don’t make a lot of money, but he always loved that you were so adamant about doing something you were passionate about. “Y/N/N, I’m so-” he starts to say, walking towards you.

“You know what?” you cut him off, not wanting to hear any more from him. Of all the things he could have said, that was probably one of the most hurtful, “You have been my husband for almost a year,” you say, your pointer finger pressed to his chest, not fully pushing him away, but enough that he won’t come closer, “It’s time you start fucking acting like it.” Before he can get another word in, you turn on your heels and walk away.

“Where are you going?” he calls, trying to come after you.

“I’m going to Rory’s.”

“No, you’re staying here,” he says, trying to beat you to the door.

“No. You’re staying here and you’re going to figure out how to be a husband. I’m going to my friend’s place. I don’t care if that’s one less day with you at this point because if we don’t do this now,” you stop yourself, looking at the absolute pain in his eyes. You know you shouldn’t say it with his eyes glassing over with tears like they are, “then who knows how much longer we’re going to have.” 

“Y/N, don’t leave,” Matthew pleads as you grab your keys, trying to ignore him. You could feel the tears coming back, but you couldn’t stay here with him. You go to your car, thinking that Matthew wasn’t following you. Pulling out of your spot, you see Matthew coming running, not fast enough since you pull away before he can get to you. 

You drive around for a bit, debating on if you should even go to Rory’s or just go home. She was the one who had convinced you to tell Matthew about the Stampede, you knew she could give you advice with this. Knocking on her door, trying not to start crying again, she doesn’t answer. You should have called, you should just go back to Matthew.

“I’m coming!” you hear Rory call on the other end, just as you were about to leave. She opens the door, dressed like she’s getting ready to go out, “Hey, love, are you ok?” 

She pulls you into her place as you start ranting to her about the fight that just happened with Matthew. “I just, I don’t know what to do. I love him, but I can’t keep doing things alone.”

“Did you tell him that?” 

“No. I said he needs to figure out how to be my husband.”

“Look, you’re free to stay here for as long as you need to, but you need to go talk to him. Your marriage isn’t going to work unless you talk to him, just like I told you when you wouldn’t tell him about the Stampede,” she says, getting up and going to her kitchen. 

She was right. You needed to go home to Matthew, but what would you even say to him at this point? What more could you tell him to get through to him that you needed your husband to actually act like your husband? You sit there on her couch, definitely intruding as she runs around her place getting ready to go out with her boyfriend, telling you not to worry because “he won’t be here to pick me up for another hour or so, he’s always late like that.” Meanwhile, Matthew was blowing up your phone with texts and calls that you weren’t answering. 

This wasn’t fair to him; you shouldn’t be doing this. “Hey, Ror?”

“Yeah, Y/N/N?” She walks back into her living room to find you standing and trying to dig your keys out of your bag. “He wants you to be happy. Go talk to him.” 

You rush home, definitely breaking a few traffic laws on the way. “Matthew?” you call once you get in the door. You look down, seeing the hallway lined with rose petals, an almost overwhelming smell of vanilla coming from candles that were lit in your home. “Matty?” 

You follow the petaled path into the kitchen to see Matthew sitting at the table wearing blue dress pants and a white button-down, the outfit that he knew you loved on him, your favorite dinner sitting at your seat, along with a bottle of your favorite wine. “What is this?” 

“I’ve been the worst,” he says, getting up to go to you. “I should have done the dishes before you asked, I shouldn’t have forgotten to tell you about leaving earlier and then lied about it, I should be at your beck and call at all times. I’m going to help you with your grading this weekend because the only place I’m going to be before I leave is at practice or by your side and no where else. I’ll even break into the school with you so we can break the copier.”

You can’t help but laugh, tears forming in your eyes, for the first time not out of sadness or anger. “You would do that for me?”

“I would do anything and everything for you. You are the love of my life. We said for better or worse, rich or poor, sickness or health until the day we die, and I know that I have never said anything that I meant more before I said that. I love you, Y/N, and I’m sorry if I haven’t been showing it,” he says, pulling you in for a hug.

“I love you, too. And I just need to you to do things when I ask you to. If I’m asking you for help it’s because I really need it.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I will, I just can’t lose you,” he says, tears starting to form in his eyes. 

“The only time you’re going to lose me is when you wander away from me in the store,” you say. He laughs, wiping away the tear that had fallen from his eyes.

“I know you said we weren’t starting a family yet, but what do you say we go and practice?” he asks, kissing your forehead. 

“I think you’ve had enough practice,” you tell him, smiling. His eyes grow wide, the smile on his face doing the same. Picking you up off your feet, he whisks you away to your bedroom, definitely not needing any more practice.

[etherrealoblivion]

Chapter Seven: Spencerspective

Table Of Contents

Fic summary: Owning a bookstore in downtown D.C. came with its fair share of downsides. You never thought that being the target of a serial killer would be one of them. Luckily, a nice FBI agent by the name of Spencer Reid is assigned to watch over you. What's the worst that could happen?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Words: 2,512

MASTERLIST

~

Spencer didn’t fall asleep for hours. He tried not to keep watching the door, but keeping Y/N safe was more important than rest.

If you're exhausted tomorrow how are you supposed to protect her?

Finally, with that thought in his mind, he let himself succumb to slumber, which was surprisingly easy with Y/N cuddled against him.

After a night of horrible dreams and tossing and turning, he woke up to the wonderful smell of shampoo and flowers. Following his nose and breathing deeply, eyes still closed, he found himself suddenly with a face full of hair.

Spencer yanked back, eyes blowing open.

No. No. No.

It all came back in a rush. She’d gotten closer to him, holding him tighter than anyone had in a long time. And he hadn’t resisted. He’d given in to her so quickly.

It wasn’t like he didn’t like her. He did. Too much. His job was to protect her, not fall in . . . fall for her. Plus, it was taking advantage. She was only getting close to him because he was protecting her. It was a whole reverse Florence Nightingale situation. If they’d met anywhere else, she wouldn’t have given him a second glance.

But now, with her back pressed up against him — a little too much — how could he resist.

He had to. He couldn’t hurt her like that. He was just going to slip out of bed and go back to the floor. Without waking her up. Easy.

“Mm,” she moaned, stretching her spine and snuggling against him tighter.

Oh no. There was no way he could sneak away with one of his arms under her head and the other wrapped tightly around her waist. Not without waking her up.

How had he even gotten into this position? Looking back, it was his fault for pointing out just how large her bed truly was.

Wiggling a bit, she pulled a pillow closer, pushing herself even closer to him.

Now another problem was . . . rising. Literally.

It was a no-win situation. He could slip out of bed, almost definitely waking her up resulting in a potentially huge misunderstanding. Or, she’d wake up before he could leave the bed and certainly feel his. . . .

He had to get up.

As gently as he could, he removed his hand from her waist and slipped the other one out from under her head, placing it softly back on the pillow.

Her whimper at the loss of his warmth was like a dagger through the heart. More than anything, he wished he could jump back in bed with her and comfort her, holding her how he’d wanted to last night. How he’d found himself holding her this morning.

Why are you so crazy for this girl?! You barely know her!

“Spencer?” even with hours of sleep, her voice was still so melodic. If he weren’t so cold without her against him, he would have melted.

“Hey,�� he said softly — too softly, get it together, Spencer!

“Is everything okay?” she rubbed her eyes sleepily, adorably. 

“Yeah, yeah, I just, um, had to go to the bathroom. I didn’t wanna wake you.”

“What time is it?”

He glanced at the clock on the wall.

“Nearly 1:30.”

“PM?”

“Yeah.”

“Jesus.”

She sat up and blinked, looking at the space on the bed where Spencer had been. 

Spencer cleared his throat, drawing her attention back to him.

“What do you want to do today?” He tried to say it casually like he cared more about what they’d do rather than what she wanted to do. It was unclear if that had come across.

“I don’t know,” she wasn’t meeting his eyes. “I kinda wanna go out?”

Spencer froze.

“Go out? Like on a . . .” he trailed off.

“Like a date,” she mumbled, then, quickly: “As a cover, of course. I just think it might be a good distraction.”

But Spencer was already shaking his head fervently.

“It’s too dangerous. In fact, nightclubs are responsible for about 60 percent of rapes and 20 percent of murders. It’s the perfect place to commit most crimes. No one is paying any attention and—���

“Spencer!” she interrupted, “I didn’t mean a nightclub. I mean, seeing you dance sounds amazing but that’s not really my scene. What about like a restaurant?”

“A restaurant?”

He considered it. Respectable restaurants had professional waiters, unlike nightclubs; better security; and, best of all, they were more spaced out, meaning less opportunity for a stranger to get close. He’d have to be on high alert, though.

“I know a great place nearby,” she spoke up, breaking his train of thought. 

“I don’t know. . . .” he said, still wary.

“It’s walking distance.”

His mistake was meeting her eyes. She looked so hopeful, so helpless. Oh god, there was a hint of puppy dog eyes. How could he resist?

Seriously, how?

“Okay,” he said, giving in as she let out a little squeak of happiness, heart warming at the sound. “But at the slightest danger, we leave.”

“Yes! Of course!”

“And no alcohol.”

She hesitated for a split second, then sighed.

“Yes, okay.”

“And no dancing,” he added, sliding into the bathroom, leaving the door partially open.

“WHAT!?”

~

“Hey, it’s almost seven.”

Spencer and Y/N had been slumped on the couch for hours watching old episodes of Doctor Who and arguing about the science of time travel.

“Time doesn’t work that way! It’s like a line.”

“But what if you went back and changed something?”

“No, no, no, you can’t do that because it would have already happened. Like if you in the future traveled to right now, it would happen right now, but since you didn’t just now, then it doesn’t happen in the future. It’s the rules of physics.”

She’d scoffed at that.

“Maybe time doesn’t follow the rules of physics.”

“Okay, speaking as a certified genius with a Ph.D. in Chemistry, you are on dangerous grounds.”

And then she’d thrown a pillow at him, the both of them descending into giggles.

Spencer had almost forgotten why he was there. Why he was really there.

“Oh, yeah. Should we go?”

Y/N laughed derisively, gesturing to her t-shirt and pajama shorts.

“Not like this. Gimme fifteen minutes.”

She jumped up and ran to her bedroom, closing the door.

“Door open!” Spencer reminded her.

She stuck her head out and blew a raspberry but she did leave the door slightly ajar. Not enough that he could see what she was doing, just enough to know that she was safe.

Meanwhile, he rummaged through his bags, trying to find something appropriate to wear. Everything he had was either too casual or way too casual.

Finally settling on a cornflower blue dress shirt, a grey sweater to wear over it, dark slacks, and a jet black tie, he stood, waiting by the door and fidgeting with his sweater so it covered his revolver. He knew it made her nervous and didn’t want to put any stress on her that could be avoided.

The door to her room opened and Spencer’s head shot up. His jaw practically dropped.

Sure, her outfit was dazzling, small sparkly black heels, a short swishy blue dress that was both casual and classy (and happened to match his shirt), and long dangly earrings with little clocks on the ends, but what really got him was the way she was looking at him. Expectantly, patiently.

He realized she was waiting for him to say something.

“You look . . .” he tried so hard to think of a compliment that expressed his awe while remaining professional. “Stunning.”

A smile lit up her face and Spencer’s heart soared.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” she said, adjusting his tie.

The contact made him jump.

“Ahem, shall we?” he opened the door and held out his elbow for her to take.

“We shall.”

So she took his arm and they set off into the night, locking the door securely behind them.

An hour later, they walked up outside a small bistro, Spencer slightly out of breath.

“When you said walking distance. . . .”

“Three miles is walking distance!” she said defensively.

“For superman!”

“Oh come on! You’re in the FBI, I'm sure you do your fair share of chasing bad guys.”

“I’m an FBI profiler. And while I do enjoy the occasional walk through the park, exercise isn’t exactly my strong suit,” he explained, gesturing to his lanky body.

“Suppose not. Then again, I saw the way you ran after that blue car. I know you’ve got some hidden muscles under all that . . . dork.”

He feigned offense at her remark.

“Pardon me, ma’am, I am a nerd. Very big difference.”

“Mm-hmm. Something only a dork would know,” she laughed, booping his nose and walking into the restaurant, Spencer taking a moment to be shocked before following her.

They got a nice table by the window at her request. It seemed she knew the waiter, calling him by his name and exchanging a brief greeting, introducing Spencer as Doctor Reid.

“Have you been here a lot?”

“No, never, but the waiter here, Tom, works at my regular coffee shop. Barista by day, waiter by night.”

Spencer laughed softly.

Okay, so she’s never been here before, meaning she’s never been here before with a guy, meaning she wanted to take you somewhere special. Meaning she likes y—

“Stop it!” he muttered to himself through gritted teeth. 

“Hmm?”

Spencer blushed.

“Oh, nothing. I was just wondering about what to order. I don’t really go to a lot of restaurants, to be honest.”

“Me either,” she smiled softly at him and Spencer found himself smiling back.

“Ready to order, Doctor Reid?” The waiter said, smiling.

“Ladies first,” Spencer said, relishing in the way Y/N smiled at him. This would be a long night.

~

“ . . . and the whole point of his writing is to experience a whole new idea of life!”

“Did you even read Walden?”

After the food came, a chicken empanada for Spencer and a bowl of pasta for Y/N, the conversation had somehow shifted to a heated discussion of what Henry David Thoreau’s ideals were.

“I’ve read . . . parts.” 

Spencer gave her a doubtful look and she sighed.

“I’ve read the Sparknotes.”

“Exactly! His point is to go live in the forest to achieve inner peace. The problem is, as humans, we need society and interactions with others in order to function. I actually had a coworker who had a cabin in the woods and he never mentioned becoming one with nature.”

“Well, maybe he just picked the wrong forest. Like, I couldn’t relax in the Forbidden Forest. It’s all about location.”

“Forbidden Forest?”

“Like from Harry Potter.”

Spencer glanced away.

“You’ve never read Harry Potter?” she said incredulously.

“Nope,” he blushed. “I’ve always preferred—“

“Oh god, please don’t say Twilight.”

“Nooo,” Spencer chuckled, “I was gonna say I prefer Doyle’s works.”

“Oh, I love Doyle!” she said happily. “Everybody always talks about Sherlock Holmes but have you read The Narrative of John Smith? It’s definitely some of his best work.”

Spencer’s mind went haywire. She had brought up his favorite book of all time in casual conversation. Who was this girl?

“Spencer?”

He snapped out of his daydream and looked at the woman in front of him. She was working on two doctorates, she loved Doyle and Doctor Who, she owned a goddamn bookstore, and she walked almost everywhere. How was he not supposed to fall for her? 

“Spencer?”

“Yes, yeah, sorry.”

The waiter came up and placed the check next to him.

“For the gentleman.” 

Avoiding eye-contact, Spencer took out his wallet to pay.

“Hey!” she swatted his hands away, making him drop his wallet into his lap. “We‘re not leaving yet! What’s the rush?”

This relaxed him a little. His nerves were starting to get to him. C’mon, Spencer, you’re a professional. Get it together.

“There’s no rush!” he quickly recovered. “I was simply checking to see if I had the adequate resources for the evening,” he smiled widely, waggling his eyebrows. But she had frozen, a shocked expression on her face.

“What?” she breathed.

Spencer cocked his head, not understanding her confusion. He was clearly reaching into his wallet for a surprise. What other resources did people keep in their walle—

Then it hit him.

“Oh! Oh, no I meant. . .” he fumbled with his wallet, trying desperately to pull out—

“This!” a shiny golden key. “I, uh, have a surprise planned.” It was extremely hard not to blush, and he was even less sure he was succeeding.

But, upon seeing her face contort into one of excitement, he was reassured.

“Okay! What are you waiting for? Let’s go now!”

And she jumped up, leaving the appropriate change in the check.

“C’mon!” Spencer was about to protest her paying, but she was grabbing his hand and pulling him out of his seat, out of the restaurant.

“Hey, I’m supposed to be surprising you, here!” he protested, stopping her just outside the door.

“Fine, lead the way, Doctor,” she giggled, bowing deeply.

Spencer curtseyed and walked off in the direction they had come, his woman on his arm.

A woman, he corrected himself. Not his.

“So,” Y/N said after a while of walking, “Where are you taking me?”

“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you.”

“I don’t like surprises.”

“Ha. You know, statistically, around eighty percent of people who say that, secretly love them.”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” she spun around and started to walk backward, maintaining eye contact, “but I’m not exactly a person that most statistics apply to.”

“So you don’t like surprises?”

She frowned.

“Touché.”

Spencer laughed as she spun back around, walking next to him. Their footsteps became a rhythm and they stayed silent for a while, just enjoying each other’s company.

Then, Y/N’s footsteps started to falter, breaking the pattern.

“You ok?” Spencer knew that people favoring the balls of their feet while walking was a sign of anxiety.

Rather than answer verbally, she yanked him down a dark alleyway, pushing against him.

“Y/N?”

She was holding him against her, her own back to the brick wall.

“I’m sorry, Spencer, this isn’t how I wanted it.”

“What are you sor—Mmf—“

A hand snaked around his tie and pulled him down sharply. Their lips met in an instant.

He should have pulled away. He should have stayed professional. He should have done anything but what he did.

Hands flying to the side of her face, he pulled her closer, coaxing open her mouth and moaning softly into it, feeling her hands travel down his waist, running along his belt.

Her lips were so soft. He’d wanted this so bad. And now that she was against him, lips against his, he realized how much he’d needed it. It wasn’t fair to her. He’d deal with that later.

But before he could process anything else, a sudden weight left his hips, her lips left his, and the unmistakable noise of a gunshot rang through the air behind him.

~

@aperrywilliams @mjloveskids666 @dolanfivsosxox @criesinreid @racerparker @sammypotato67 @lukeskisses @reidcrimes @you-had-me-at-hello-dear @l0ve-0f-my-life @thatsonezesty13​ @yourmisosoup @queenofthebees003 @pinkdiamond1016 @eu-solidao