#I hope the next one won’t take as long since the dialogue is half written

[starrysnowdrop]

Never Good Enough

Hali x Aymeric

Immediately following “Misunderstandings”; Hali runs away from Fortemps Manor in a panic after hearing Artoirel and Aymeric’s conversation about her, and she is compelled to write her feelings out in her diary.

1,105 Words

Content Warning: Description of a panic attack and its symptoms

~**~

As her heart pounded so hard in her chest that she could hear her heartbeat in her ears, and with Ishgard tumbling and twisting around her, Hali ran a few fulms to the Fortemps Manor’s gazebo before she collapsed onto the nearest wooden bench.

The familiar yet unforgiving icy winds of Coerthas blew around her body, making the act of trying to catch her breath damn near impossible. Hali knew that this wasn’t the best spot to calm herself down from her panic, as Aymeric could leave the Manor and walk right past her at any moment, and allowing him to see her in this condition was not an option. No, she had to go somewhere where he wouldn’t find her, but where?

Her first thought was Camp Cloudtop, as the Sea of Clouds had some of the most beautiful sights she had ever witnessed, but Lady Laniaitte and the Rose Knights were sure to find her there and ask too many questions. Her mind soon drifted to the Churning Mists, where she marveled at the stunning ruins of the once great civilization where man and dragon lived in peace for centuries, but the moogles of Moghome would certainly see her and that would be a headache she didn’t need on top of everything else. No, it had to be elsewhere…

Then it came to her. The perfect spot. The one place in Eorzea that reminded her of home. Hali placed a hand over her chest, as if to steady her frantically beating heart, and she channeled the teleportation magick.

As soon as she arrived, she opened her eyes and her breath began to slow immediately. The ruins of the long abandoned Sharlayan colony in the Dravanian Hinterlands, now known as Idyllshire, was always a welcome sight to her. The familiar marble facades of the buildings, the green mollusk shell all aglow in the starlit sky, the sound of water flowing from the nearby fountains, it all soothed her aching soul just a bit, yet it was enough to pull herself together and wipe away the tears from her wet cheeks.

With a deep sigh, Hali picked her head up and walked towards her destination. Crossing the Aetheryte plaza, passing by the stalls of the goblin merchants, she strode the thoroughfare with purpose, not making eye contact with a single soul. Only the welcoming embrace of solitude could comfort her now.

The pink-haired lalafellin woman grabbed small handfuls of the fabric of her astrologian robes as she hopped down the marble staircase towards an empty courtyard behind the merchants’ stalls where there was nothing but a sea of flowers and an inviting stone fountain at the center.

Hali smiled momentarily as she breathed in the scent of wildflowers and misty air, and she sat on the edge of the fountain, her feet dangling just a couple of fulms shy of the water’s edge.

The mist rising from the falling waters gently tickled her face as she pulled out a small pink moogle adorned notebook and matching pink feather quill from her adventuring bag.

With quill held tight in her slightly shaky hand, Hali began to write out all of her thoughts and feelings in the moment.

~**~

Aymeric,

How dare you? How dare you be so unbelievably kind, and understanding, and so very sweet to me? You actually made me believe that I was special to you, that you perhaps had feelings for me, and that we might’ve been more than friends. But I was such an idiot, so blinded by love that I had forgotten just why I had fallen for you in the first place: that you are kind to everyone you meet. That is just who you are. How could I ever fault you for that?

No, it’s me. It’s my mistake. I should never have been so curious to overhear what you truly think of me. I should’ve just went straight to my room in blissful ignorance. But no, I now know that we will never be more than friends. You said it yourself; good friends, nothing more.

But what about Artoirel? He said you were distancing yourself from me… what did he mean by that? Am I annoying you and you are way too polite to ever say so? Have I pushed myself on you when you didn’t want me around?

No, that doesn’t make sense… does it? I mean, I was told by Captain Whitecape that you were calling out for me in the infirmary, that you needed me by your side. And then the private dinner… you invited me, that wasn’t my idea. And you seemed so happy then, and I could’ve sworn that you had something important to say to me.

There’s only one answer: I’m the problem here. No one’s ever loved me like that before, why should you feel any differently than all the rest? How could you ever want someone like me? I’m so godsdamned short that I barely come up to your hips, I am fat in the stomach and legs, but flat in the chest, so I don’t have the curves in the right places. I’m a complete outsider to everything Ishgardian, and I’m not even a great warrior. I am the healer in the back flinging cards while barely keeping up with the true warriors on the battlefield. How can the leader of the greatest military force in Eorzea ever bother to even consider me as a potential love interest? When I lay out all the facts, it all sounds completely absurd, doesn’t it?

I should just give up. I need to let you go. I’ll never be good enough for you. And you have your own life to live in Ishgard. Go find a good, upstanding partner from the home that you love so much, someone who can be your equal. I can name about a dozen people right off the top my head that would jump at the chance to be with you.

So why do I still want to run right into your arms and tell you that I love you and I want you to choose me? Gods, I’m just completely hopeless after all. Maybe I need to hear it from you directly. To tell me to my face that you don’t love me. So go on, Aymeric. Tell me. Or I’ll be waiting around for the rest of my life for you. In the meantime, I’m going to try to wipe away my tears long enough to pretend that I don’t love you, so I can preserve some tiny speck of dignity at least.

~ Hali

[americasass91]

The Shield and the Sweater

Hello lovelies! This little fic came to me when the lovely, beautiful, talented @stargazingfangirl18​ asked a very important question on her blog. Would you rather be enemies to lovers with Steve Rogers or friends with benefits with Ransom Drysdale. Well my greedy ass wanted both. Thus the birth of this story. I also turned it around a little to make it fit into Siri’s 5k Soft Dark Challenge! I’ve never written anything dark before. Also not sure if this classifies as soft!dark or if it’s more dark. But it’s one of those! If that makes you uncomfortable, then please don’t read it. This is also my first time writing a threesome, so let me know if it sucks! I hope you enjoy it! 😘

General prompts:

8)The town golden boy isn’t as sweet as everyone thinks.

Dialogue prompts:

3)”Oh, honey, you weren’t supposed to see that.”

11)”I’ve waited a long time for this, sweetheart.”

Rating: Explicit(if you’re under 18, please leave)

Words: 6.2k(this one got away from me, sorry)

Warnings: soft!dark/dark themes, unprotected sex, anal sex, vaginal sex, threesome(M/M/F), manipulation, language, model!Ransom being an asshole, Steve not being who you think he is

“And I really think if everyone pitches in to make these changes, it’ll really make a difference in the long run.”

Wow, so this is how you were going to die. In your whole 20 something years of existence, you never thought boredom would be your cause of death.

Sure, you were the lead Accountant at Stark Tower and these monthly meetings were mandatory. But did you really have to be here to listen to Rogers go on and on about how we can ‘improve our working environment’? Why did he even care anyway? He was barely ever here as it is.

You must have been zoning out worse than you thought because next thing you know your coworker, Janet, is poking you in the side and pointing towards Steve.

With a quick glare sent her way, you move your gaze to the Captain. He is giving you the same look he always does. Like he’s disgusted with you. “I’m sorry Miss Y/L/N. Am I boring you?”

A scoff escapes your mouth. “No, not at all Captain Rogers. I just love when people who are never here seem to always have an opinion on how things are run and how they could be better.”

He narrows his eyes at you. “Do you have a problem with me, Y/N? Cause if you do, I’m sure there’s a way to solve that.”

You stand up and match his expression. You lean forward with your hands resting on the table. You can’t help but notice the Captain drops his gaze to your cleavage that’s now on more display than before. But just as quick as it was there, his gaze rises back up to meet your face. “Is that a threat, Captain Rogers?”

“Oh, it’s more than a-“

Tony quickly stands up and claps his hands together. “Okay! Meeting adjourned! You two, come here!”

You quickly straighten yourself up and make your way over to Tony. You always try to make sure you show him as much respect as you can. He’s your boss after all.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Stark. My emotions got the better of me. It won’t happen again.”

He nods to you. “Thank you, Y/N. I accept your apology. But what I’m not understanding is why Steve here wanted to fire you?”

You both turn to look at Steve who has a sheepish expression on his face. “Yeah, sorry about that, Tony. She just seems to bring out this ugly side of me. I’ll try to keep it more contained next time.” He then moves his gaze to you. “Sorry, Y/N. I promise to be more professional moving forward.”

He makes a quick exit, leaving you shocked that he apologized at all. Ever since you started here almost a year ago now, you’ve been at each other’s throats. It was your fault really.

It was your first week and you were in the break room grabbing some coffee when you overheard a few of your coworkers making fun of Steve for being a virgin. Now, you weren’t sure if it was true but you wanted to fit in so you made your way over to the group and asked if anyone calls him Captain Virgin. That earned you some big laughs. But the laughter died down quickly as Steve entered the room to grab some coffee. Judging by the glare he gave you, he heard what you had called him.

You went straight to Tony after that to apologize. You really didn’t want to get fired. But you wanted to make sure Tony heard the story from you before Steve got the chance to talk to him. To your utter surprise, Tony found the name hilarious and gave you a high five, saying you were going to fit right in.

Well long story short, it’s almost a year later and Steve is still getting called Captain Virgin. Oh but don’t worry, he has names of his own for you. His favorite is Tony’s Pet. For some reason, it really eats at you when he calls you that.

But the one thing you hate the most about Steve?

Is how utterly, hopelessly, and desperately attracted you are to the son of a bitch.

That happened in your second week when you went to use the complimentary gym and saw him beating the shit out of some poor punching bag. Your panties and your workout were definitely ruined after that.

The more you fought with Steve, the more you just wanted him to bend you over any surface and have his way with you.  

It was despicable how horny you were for him. You were pretty sure all he’d have to do is snap his fingers and point to the floor in front of him and you’d happily drop to your knees and take him down your throat.

So that left you leaving work every day in a horny state. You started by taking care of it yourself when you got home. But after a while even that wasn’t cutting it. Then you started bringing home one night stands. But after the 4th disappointing non-orgasm, you gave up and just learned to live with it.

Sure, you could attempt to start being nice to Steve and maybe ask him out. But you were pretty sure he hated you. Plus you have way too much pride to actually do that.

So that leads to now. It’s Friday night and your workday is almost over. You’re inputting the last few numbers from the last expense report in your pile.

You get the last number put in when Janet approaches you. She sits on the corner of your desk. “So, you coming tonight?”

You take your glasses off and lean back in your chair, stretching your arms over your head. “Coming where?”

She rolls her eyes at you. “Oh, come on Y/N! You know we go out almost every Friday night. You never come and you always say you will!”

You start to clear off your desk and put things back in their place. “Yeah well I could. Or I could go home and sit on my ass and do nothing.”

“Well, that explains why it’s looking a bit bigger lately.”

Janet’s jaw drops as she directs her gaze at Steve, who is now standing in front of your desk.

You smirk and lean on your elbows towards him. “You like looking at my ass, Rogers?”

He scoffs. “Well when it takes up that much space, it’s hard not to notice. But here, I came to give you this.”

He hands you what looks to be a 10 page expense report. “Sorry it’s late, I’ve been busy, you know. Saving the world.”

You ungraciously take it from him and throw it in your to-do pile. “That can wait until Monday. I’ve got plans. We’re going to-” you look towards Janet for clarification. “Lavo.” You turn your gaze back to Steve. “Yeah, we’re going to Lavo. So this will wait til Monday if that’s okay with you, sir.”

Steve does his best to move his bag and jacket subtly towards the front of his pants so you won’t notice his growing hard-on. He hates how turned on he gets when you guys get into it. And then you call him sir? Jesus. He clears his throat. “Of course, I'm the one who turned it in at the last minute.”

Janet speaks up quickly. “You could always come with us! It’ll be fun!”

You grin widely at him. “Yeah! You could finally get your cherry popped, Captain Virgin.”

Steve can’t help the blush that covers his cheeks. “Uh, I can assure you my cherry has been popped since the 40’s. But thank you for your concern. And thank you for the invite, Janet. But i think I’ll stay in tonight.” He takes out his phone and sends a quick text before turning around and walking towards the elevators.

Wow. He didn’t even try to retaliate. You shrug your shoulders and grab your purse before standing up. “Alright, I’ll go! But on one condition!”

Janet claps her hands in excitement and starts walking with you towards the elevators. “Sure, anything!”

You press the button for the lobby. “You are going to be my wingwoman. Cause this girl definitely needs to get laid.”

😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈

Lavo is super packed by the time you guys arrive. Of course you all had to go home and change.

You decided to go with a simple, yet effective, little black dress that showed off just enough to get men’s attention.

Thankfully you are able to score the last table. The waiter comes over and gets everyone’s drink order. You decide to stick with your favorite. You don’t want to get too drunk on the off chance you find someone to take home.

About a half hour into hot office gossip, Lucy, who is sitting across from you, taps your arm. You raise your eyebrows in question towards her.

She subtly nods her head towards the bar. “Okay I’m pretty sure the hottest guy I have ever seen is checking you out.”

You can’t help the smirk that crosses your face. “Yeah? Which one?”

“You can’t miss him. He’s fucking hot. Like no comparison to any of the other dudes sitting up there.”

You glance down at your drink and quickly finish the remainder. You stand up and adjust your dress, pushing up your breasts in the process. “Well, then I guess it’s time for a refill.” You wink and turn to make your way towards the bar.

It doesn’t take long for you to spot him. And boy was Lucy not kidding. He was fucking hot. Brown hair, blue eyes, and a smug smirk that would normally turn you off. But on him it worked. And who even looks that good in a fucking cream colored cable knit?

You go up to the bar, not too close to Mr. Hottie of course, and patiently wait for the bartender.

Hottie McHothot not so subtly moves his gaze up and down your body. He must like what he sees. “Hey honey, have you ever raised chickens?”

Uh. That’s definitely not the first thing you expected to come out of his mouth. You look over at him with confusion on your face. “Uh, no. Why do you ask?”

He just shrugs his shoulders. “Just kinda figured you might. Cause you sure can raise a cock.”

Okay, you’ve definitely never heard that line before. You crack up. You’re pretty sure you even snorted on accident. Once you collect yourself you ask, “Has that line ever worked for you?”

The bartender makes his way over to take your order. After reordering what you had before, you turn towards Hottie and wait for his answer.

“Not sure, my buddy told it to me yesterday so this is the first time I’m using it. Did it work?”

You shrug your shoulders. “I don’t know. It was pretty cheesy.”

“Yeah, maybe. But it got you to laugh. So I’d say mission accomplished. Name’s Ransom. What’s yours, pretty girl?” He holds out his hand for you to shake.

Ransom. Now where have you heard that name before? You accept his hand shake. You can’t help but notice how much bigger his hands are than yours. Jesus. You could already feel your panties getting wet.

“My name’s Y/N. Ransom, that sounds familiar. Do I know you?”

He releases your hand and goes to take a sip of his bourbon. “Well, I guess that depends. Do you read magazines or have you seen the side of the city bus lately?”

You quickly wrack your brain. You don’t read many magazines. But the bus drives by you everyday on your walk to work. Holy shit! That’s it! He’s in his underwear on the side of the bus. You’ve drooled over that picture plenty of times.

“Oh, yeah! I remember now! I’ve seen you on the bus! What’s it an ad for? I can never really get past the almost naked man. A bit distracting on my way to work.”

He smirks as he briefly glances down at your breasts. “I’m glad you know my work. It’s an ad for Calvin Klein. For their new line of men’s briefs. Sorry I’ve been a distraction.” He sends you a wink.

Fuck. He was a model. And a popular one at that if he’s in an ad for Calvin Klein.

“I didn’t say I minded. You can make it up to me you know.” You wink back. Holy shit. Were you really flirting with a model?

“Yeah? Well, how about we get out of here and I’ll show you a fully naked man.”

Okay. Cheesy line number 2. Was that really going to work on you?

Yes.

Yes it was.

“Let me just go grab my purse.”

Drink forgotten, you go back to your table as quickly as you can without looking desperate. “Sorry, girls. But this is where I leave you.”

Janet glances down at her phone. “We haven’t even been here an hour yet! Where are you going?”

You send her a wink. “I’m leaving with that guy! You guys know him! Remember that ad on the side of the bus?”

They all turn their gaze to him. And they all make it very obvious. He just waves and sends them a smirk.

“Holy fucking shit! That’s the new Calvin Klein guy! Oh my god you lucky bitch!”

“Wait! Listen. We’ll let you go on one condition.”

You furrow your brows in confusion. “Okay?”

Janet gives you a naughty smirk. “On Monday I’ll need a report on if they had to stuff his briefs to get that delicious looking bulge or not.”

You give her a naughty smirk of your own. “I can totally do that.”

😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈

Monday morning you were all smiles as you stepped off the elevator and headed towards your desk. You give Janet a wink as you pass by her. She quickly makes her way over just as you sit down. “Um, excuse me hoe. But is that the same dress you were wearing Friday night?”

You quickly grab the cardigan you always keep in your desk out and put it on and button it up, attempting to look a little more professional. “Maybe.”

Janet opens her mouth in shock. “You stayed the whole weekend with him? You little slut! How was it?”

You turn on your computer and grab for the expense report of Steve’s you left in your to-do pile. Then you turn towards your nosy coworker. “Well, if you must know, yes. I did stay the whole weekend with him. And I’m pretty sure I was in an orgasm-induced coma the whole time. It’s all kind of a rough, sticky, mind-blowing blur.”

“Are you going to see him again?”

You shrug your shoulders as you put in your login information on the computer. “I haven’t decided yet. While the sex was the best I’ve ever had, he’s kind of an ass. Talked about himself and all the famous people he’s hooked up with since becoming a model. I honestly kept initiating sex just to make him shut up.”

She gives you a look like you’re stupid. “I’m not seeing the issue here. So what if he talks about himself a lot? The sex was amazing. You need to lock that down girl.”

You roll your eyes at her. “That’s the thing, Janet. He doesn’t do relationships. He told me so multiple times. Plus I’m pretty sure he was texting another chick in between our ‘sessions’. I suppose if I’m desperate, I’ll get a hold of him.”

“You know you could always just have him on backup for sex. Like a friends with benefits situation.”

“Janet, I’m in my late 20s. I’m too old for that kind of relationship.”

“Exactly, you’re in your late 20s! This is the perfect time for that kind of relationship before you settle down and get married! Have one last final hoorah!”

“I can’t have this conversation before caffeine. I’m going to get coffee. You act like I’m dying soon or something.” You turn to walk away but then remember you were supposed to tell her something. “Oh yeah and by the way. The bulge is definitely not stuffed.”

You give her a wink and then head to the break room for some much needed coffee. When you see who’s in there, you almost contemplate going downstairs to a different break room.

Steve is standing at the counter, preparing his coffee. He turns when he hears you come in and gives you a once over. “Well, look what the cat dragged in.”

You grab a mug out of the cabinet beside him. “Sorry my appearance isn’t up to your standards today, Rogers. I was a little...busy this weekend.”

He takes a sip of his coffee to make sure it’s right. Then he moves out of your way so you can get to the coffee, but still staying close. “Busy getting run over by a truck? Cause that’s kind of what you look like.”

You pour yourself a generous amount of coffee and take a long sip, letting the bitter liquid slowly make you human. “Yeah, well. I was busy getting fucked all weekend, Rogers. But I know your little innocent mind wouldn’t know what that’s like.”

That wipes the stupid little smirk right off his face. He almost looks pissed. He moves even closer to you. Almost pressing himself right up against you. So close that you can smell his coffee-scented breath. If you were wearing panties, they’d be ruined.

“Not all of us feel the need to sleep around. Some of us are looking for a real connection. Not just a one night stand of meaningless, mediocre sex.”

You press yourself just a little closer to him, his chest now touching yours. “Oh, it was anything but mediocre. Maybe if you actually got some, you’d know what that feels like.”

He leans his head down until his mouth is next to your ear, his left hand now resting on your hip. “You really need to stop insinuating that I’m a virgin sweetheart. If you were nicer to me, I’d show you that I know how to fuck.” With that he backs up and heads out of the break room.

You let out the breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. Jesus Christ. You swear you almost came.

And if you were nicer to him? Fuck him. He’s not nice to you either. That’s okay. You have someone who can scratch this itch.

You pull out your phone and send a quick text.

To: Fuckboi

You busy tonight? I could really use a release.

The reply came almost immediately.

From: Fuckboi

Didn’t get enough of my cock this weekend huh? I suppose I could make myself available.

You roll your eyes and quickly reply with your address and what time to be over.

The rest of the day passes by slowly. It takes you half the day to enter Steve’s expense report. God he’s descriptive. At least it’s completed. You can’t really say that much for the other Avengers. They usually half assed them and made them barely acceptable.

You are shutting down for the day when Steve approaches your desk. You remove your glasses and look at him expectantly. “Is there something I can help you with, Steve?”

A blush creeps it’s way across his cheeks. “Um, I was actually just wondering if you had time to go over the new expense report forms? They should be a lot easier to fill out.”

You glance down at the clock on your computer. Ransom is going to be at your place in about 20 minutes.“Can we do it tomorrow? I have company that’ll be showing up at my apartment in like 20 minutes.”

His hopeful smile falls. His face is now unreadable. “Would your company happen to be whoever you spent the weekend with?”

Confused, you grab for your purse after getting your computer shut down. “Actually, yes. Should I have asked your permission first?” You attempt a joke to ease the sudden tension.

He pulls out his phone and starts typing furiously. Wow. You weren’t aware he knew how to text. You hear it ping with a reply before he angrily puts it back in his pocket. “Sure, we can do this tomorrow. Wouldn’t want to get in the way of your whoreing around.”

Your jaw drops in surprise. Sure you guys were always throwing jabs at each other. But he’d never said anything like this before. And in such a mean tone.

You round your desk and stand right in front of him. “Fuck you, Steve.”

You hurry towards the elevators before he can see the tears that have welled up. You couldn’t let him know he had that power over you. Asshole. Thank god Ransom was coming over. Hopefully he could fuck what Steve just said right out of your head.

😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈

You’ve lost count of how many orgasms Ransom has pulled from you with his mouth when there’s a knock on your door.

Ransom looks up at you from his kneeling position on your living room floor. “Did you invite someone else to join us, pretty girl?”

You scoff and push him away so you can stand up. You pull your dress down as you make your way towards the door. “Yeah. I can barely handle just you. I’m pretty sure if we added someone else, I’d actually die.”

You open the door and gasp in surprise. “Steve? What are you doing here?”

He rubs the back of his neck nervously. “Look, I know you probably already have company but I felt really bad about what I said to you earlier today and wanted to apologize.”

You have so many questions. “How did you know where I lived?”

That sheepish smile makes its appearance again. “I may or may not have looked in your employee file.”

You shake your head. “And you felt the need to come all the way here and apologize? Why not just text me?”

“It would only have felt right to me to do it in person. I really am sor-”

You feel a pair of arms wrap around you from behind. “Well, who do we have here? Why is Captain America at your door?”

You turn your head to address Ransom. “He just came by to apologize to me. I think he was just leaving.”

Steve has a disappointed look on his face. “Yeah, I suppose I was.”

“Awe, what a shame. I thought you were gonna ask him to join us, pretty girl.”

Steve’s eyes grow wide at the thought. You quickly speak up. “No, I don’t think he’d be comfortable with that. He’s a little old fashioned.” You give him a sincere smile. You didn't think that was a bad thing.

Steve looks back towards the elevators and then back to you. He clears his throat. “What if I wanted to join you?” Seeing your wide eyed look, he quickly adds, “Only if Y/N would be comfortable with that of course.”

You contemplate what the consequences could be in your head. But then you get distracted when Ransom starts grinding his hard on against your ass. “Come on, pretty girl. Make a decision.”

The next word comes out of your mouth faster than what your brain can process. “Okay.”

😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈

Now you were standing awkwardly in your bedroom with Steve and Ransom looking at you expectantly.

You’ve never done this before so you’re not sure how this is supposed to go. “So, um. How do we start exactly?”

Ransom smirks and comes up behind you. “I think you should call the shots, pretty girl. If you’re okay with that, Steve?”

With the mention of his name, he walks towards you and places his hands on your hips. “I think that’s a great idea. Can I kiss you now?” He places his hand under your chin and raises your face up to meet his. “I’ve waited a long time for this, sweetheart.” With that, his lips meet yours. It’s explosive. You quickly wrap your hands around his neck and press yourself up against him.

You get so lost in the kiss, you forget that Ransom is there. That is until he presses his lips against your neck and presses himself against your ass. It presses you even further against Steve, making you feel his excitement against your lower belly.

You’re so overwhelmed already and you’d barely started. You may not survive this evening.

As you move your hands down to remove Steve’s shirt, Ransom is unzipping your dress, pressing kisses to every inch of exposed skin.

Without breaking the kiss, Steve moves his hands around to unhook your bra so he can get his hands on your breasts. He pinches your nipples, causing you to moan into his mouth. He moves his lips to your neck, sucking on your pulse point.

After successfully removing your dress, Ransom stands back up and turns your head to connect your lips. He starts rutting his clothed hard on against your naked ass. His left hand reaches around to bat one of Steve’s away so he can squeeze your breast.

Steve takes the hand that had been swatted away and moves it down to your soaking wet core. He starts lightly circling your clit. Just enough pressure to make you mewl.

You reach behind you with your left hand and tug at the waistband of Ransom’s briefs. “Off.” You moan out as you take your right hand and start attempting to take off Steve’s jeans. He smirks into your neck and helps you out. He barely gets them unbuttoned and unzipped before you’re reaching your hand into them and his boxers to grab his cock. It feels big.

Ransom grabs your left hand and places it on his now free cock. You wrap your hand around it and give it a squeeze before you start pumping your hand up and down. You do the same to Steve’s, making the both of them let out grunts against both sides of your neck. Steve increases the pressure on your clit a little. Still not enough.

“Nee-need, you. Please.” You weakly moan out. Ransom moves his mouth up to your ear. “How do you want us, pretty girl?”

You reluctantly pull away from both of them so you can think. You decide to be greedy. You point to Steve. “I want you to lay on the bed, please.”

He does as you ask. Putting his hands behind his head as he awaits further instructions.

You get on the bed and straddle him. You turn around and reach your arm out for Ransom. “Want you behind me.” You lean over and open your bedside drawer to grab the lube and toss it at Ransom. He smirks as he straddles Steve’s legs and gets behind you. He uncaps the lube and starts coating his cock with a generous amount. “Need my cock in that ass, pretty girl?”

You hold up your hand. “Wait.” You lean down towards Steve and give him a quick kiss. “Are you okay with this?”

He nods his head. “As long as you are.” You raise back up and smile at him. You turn your head and look at Ransom. “I’m assuming you're okay with this?”

He just smirks and squeezes some lube out so that it slides down the crack of your ass. “More than okay, pretty girl. Need me to stretch you out first?”

You smirk and pull him in for a quick, filthy kiss. “I think it got plenty stretched out this weekend.”

He matches your smirk. “You little slut. Wanting both of our cocks stuffing you full.”

You whimper as he lands a smack on your ass. Leaning up on your knees, you grab a hold of Steve’s cock and start running his tip up and down your folds. He places his left hand on your right hip and his right hand on your left thigh. “Condom?”

You quickly shake your head and pause your actions. “On the pill. Unless of course you’d be more comfortable with one.”

He shakes his head. “No, just making sure.”

You turn back to Ransom. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready for you.”

He nods and places his hands on your shoulders, waiting somewhat patiently.

You slowly sink down on Steve’s cock. He’s stretching you out so deliciously. It burns in just the right way. Ransom may be longer, but Steve is definitely thicker.

After you get fully seated on him, you take a minute to adjust. It only takes a few seconds. You turn your head towards Ransom. “Okay, I’m ready.”

He removes his right hand from your shoulder and grabs the base of his cock and starts pressing against the tight ring of muscle. He’d been in there a lot over the weekend. But it was still a tight fit regardless. He doesn’t go as slow and sheaths himself to the hilt, causing you to moan out in slight pain and pleasure.

Holy fuck. You feel so full. You think you might die. That is until Ransom removes his cock until just the tip remains and then forcefully thrust back in, causing you to grind on Steve’s dick.

Steve grunts out from the movement and starts thrusting up into you the best he can from his position. Ransom wraps his left arm around you and continues his thrusts, not letting up his pace. You don’t even really have to move, the both of them doing it for you. They somehow find the perfect rhythm. Each of them pulling out and pushing in at the same time. One of your hands is behind you, resting on the back of Ransom’s head while the other is resting on Steve’s chest.

Steve sits up suddenly and pulls you in for a kiss. “Like being stuffed with both of our cocks, pretty girl?” You hear from behind you. “Yes. So good. So full. Gonna cum.”

Ransom removes his arm from around you and reaches down and starts circling your clit. “Do it. Cum all over us. Make a mess.”

Steve can feel you squeezing him. “Please, sweetheart. Need to feel you cum on my cock. You’re gripping me so good.”

You explode. You clamp your eyes shut, seeing stars behind your eyelids. You let the both of them fuck you through it.

Ransom’s hips stutter. The fluttering around his cock is too good. He cums with a shout of your name, filling up your ass to the brim. He gives you a few more thrusts before he pulls out and collapses beside you two.

Steve’s been patient while you come down from your high. He lays back down, pulling you with him so that your chest to chest. He bends his knees and grabs onto your hips. “You ready, sweetheart?” You raise up, both of your hands on each side of his head. You give him a nod.

That’s all he needs. He starts fucking you, hard and fast, chasing his release. He can feel it building. He just needs to feel you come undone around him again. He moves one of his hands and starts circling your clit with his thumb. “Need you to cum for me again, Y/N.”

You shake your head. “Can’t. Too much.”

Ransom sits up beside you. “I know what she needs.” He reaches over with his left hand and wraps it around your throat, squeezing gently.

It makes you clench down on Steve’s cock. “Yeah? That all you needed, sweetheart? A hand wrapped around your pretty throat? I know you like it. Can feel you squeezing me.” He picks up his pace. The only sounds that can be heard are his grunts, your breathy monas, and skin slapping against skin.

It doesn’t take long for your orgasm to hit you. This one is somehow even more intense than the last.

You must’ve blacked out for a few seconds because the next thing you know, you’re waking up in between Steve and Ransom.

Steve smiles down at you. “There she is. We lost you for a second, sweetheart.”

You feel drunk. You smile goofily up at him. “Did you cum?”

Just as you ask that, you can feel his release seeping out of your overused cunt. Then you feel cum leaking out of your ass. You hide your face behind your hands in embarrassment. “I can’t believe we just did that.”

Ransom removes one hand while Steve removes the other. “Nuh uh uh. No hiding allowed, pretty girl. I have no regrets.” He looks at Steve. “Do you?”

Steve smiles down at you and leans down to press a soft kiss against your lips. “None from me. You tired, sweetheart?”

You let out a big yawn and nod your head, slowly closing your eyes. “Get some rest, pretty girl.” That’s the last thing you hear before sleep takes you.

😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈

You wake up sometime in the early morning, stretching out your sore limbs. You know you have a dumb smile on your face. But you can’t help but notice your empty bed.

You sit up and hiss at the deliciously sore feeling between your legs. You grab your robe and slip it on. You can smell coffee coming from the kitchen. You giddily make your way out of the room and down the hallway. They both barely just come into view, still unaware you’re there, when you hear Steve speak.

“I thought you were going to be an asshole to her? Make her see I’m not that bad.”

You hear Ransom next. “I was an asshole to her. I’m sorry I dicked her down so good that she wanted more.”

Steve scoffs. “I never gave you the okay to fuck her!”

“You also didn’t tell me it was off limits. Look you got what you wanted right?”

“No, actually I didn’t. I didn’t pay you so we could have a threesome together.”

What the fuck? Steve paid Ransom to help him get in your pants?

“Ok, how about this? I’ll give you all of your money back if I can fuck her one more time before I go? Then we’ll be squared away.”

Steve seems to be conflicted. “Fine! But this is the last time Ransom. I have to get to work anyway. After this, she’s mine. And make sure she’s not late for work herself.”

Before you have time to react, Steve rounds the corner and sees you standing there. He has a deer caught in headlights look. Ransom comes up beside him and sees you. “Oh, honey, you weren’t supposed to see that.”

You slowly start backing up towards your bedroom. Steve moves towards you, stopping once you put your hands up. “Stay away from me! Both of you! I want nothing to do with either of you!”

Ransom moves past Steve and grabs onto your arms. “Oh, please. You’d fuck us again if we wanted. Wouldn’t you?”

You spit in his face. “Fuck you, Hugh.”

He gets a sinister look on his face. “Wrong move, pretty girl.” He looks toward Steve. “Don’t worry, I’ll fuck the brat out of her. You better tell her boss she won’t be in today.”

Your eyes go wide at his words. You start thrashing against him, trying your best to get away. Steve has had enough. He comes over and yanks you away from him and presses you against the wall. “You better calm down, sweetheart. I’ll treat you like a princess if you can be my good girl. Can you do that?”

You shake your head. “Why would you think I’d want anything to do with you after finding out you paid someone to help get into my pants?”

He gives you an evil smirk. “Because if you don’t, I’ll just have to release the tape of last night on the internet. Let everyone see how much of a slut you actually are.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “You’re bluffing.”

He smirks and turns his head towards Ransom. “Show her.”

Ransom gets his phone out of his pocket and swipes at the screen for a second before turning it in your direction.

Holy shit. They weren’t bluffing. There you were, getting fucked by the both of them. That would ruin you if it got out. Not only would you get fired, but your parents would probably disown you. You’d never have a normal relationship again. You’re fucked. Even more than you were last night. How had you not noticed they were recording it?

Ransom must have read your mind. “I set my phone up while you were busy with Steve’s fingers on your cunt and his tongue down your throat. I think you need to ask her again Steve.”

Steve grabs your chin and moves your gaze onto his face. “I’ll ask you again. Are you going to be my good girl? Let Ransom fuck you one more time and then it’ll just be me and you?”

You drop your gaze to the floor. You feel a tear run down your cheek as you whisper out, “I’ll be your good girl.”

Taglist: @stargazingfangirl18​ @drabblewithfrannybarnes​ @harrysthiccthighss​ @lllols @patzammit​ @quxxnxfhxll​

Steve Taglist: @donutloverxo​

[shreddedparchment]

Tamales and Christmas Lights

12/21/2020

Pairing: Steve x Mexican American Reader          Word Count: 6,838

Warnings: light smut, talks of having kids, language, drinking

A/N: This is the first time I have ever written anything for a specific type of reader. I don’t usually write for a specific race or ethnicity because I can’t speak as to the intimacy of living in that person’s shoes. By this I mean more of a family life. I’m eager to learn but for now, I will write what I know and that is a reader of my own background. I hope I don’t alienate anyone too much and that you all enjoy the story for what it is. There is a bit of Spanish in this one, but so long as you read all of the dialogue what is said is explained in English shortly after. Anyway, I’m SUPER nervous about this one, and it’s a little on the short side but I hope you all enjoy it. Thanks for your support! xoxo

“What do you do for the Holidays?”

Steve stiffens for a moment beneath you, bringing your gaze up to his sleepy face.

It’s so late and he’d only just got in an hour ago. Probably on the verge of sleep when you’d asked your quests.

“What?” There’s stress in his eyes and you’re sorry to interrupt the peace of the moment.

“Nothing. It’s nothing.” He rubs your shoulder, large hands trying to coax you back down onto his chest where you’d been laying with your head cradled underneath his chin.

“You’re lying. And you haven’t answered my question.”

Steve sighs and shakes his head, “Nothing. That’s what I do for the Holidays. I don’t do anything. I should probably change that since Buck is finally back. But I think I overheard Sam making plans to drag him to some party and I’m not up for that.”

“Oh…” You deflate, laying your head back on his chest but he notices the disappointment in your voice and he pushes you up again.

When you don’t move, he forces himself up, pulling back until he can rest against the headboard of your bed. You’re also made to sit up but Steve leans forward to guide you close to his body so that you’re practically straddling him.

“What did you have in mind? That wasn’t an empty oh.” He notices.

You shake your head, suddenly terrified to bring it up.

“Come on, baby, don’t leave me wondering. I’ll assume the worst.” He reminds you.

You smile, appreciating the way he reaches up to grab your chin and give your head a little shake. You probably shouldn’t like it but you love the way he makes these small gestures of possessiveness over you.

There’s something feral within you that purrs into submission when he claims you so openly. You’re his. Heart and soul. He knows it already even though it’s only been a few months of being together.

You fist his white shirt, wrinkling it as you pull him closer and kiss him sweetly despite the aggression in your hands.

There’s just something about him that makes you want to just squeeze him! Like that feeling you get when you see a tiny puppy or kitty and you just wanna hug it and squeeze it and love it to death.

He huffs a small laugh at your reaction, though he doesn’t understand it.

“What was that for?”

You lick your lips, kissing him once more before leaning back and releasing his poor shirt.

“You know you’re mine, right?” You ask him, eyes fixed on his pretty face.

You’re not a fan of the bruising around his left cheekbone, but the rest of him is just as perfect as ever.

“And you’re mine,” he assures you. “And if anyone tries to take you away…”

The implications are tantalizing but you don’t linger there. You laugh and shake your head, turning to the windows of his room to watch the heavy snowfall.

It’s freezing outside. It makes you shiver and you pull yourself closer to Steve, wrapping your arms around him by hooking them underneath his own. You ball yourself up in his lap as best you can and rest your head against his chest again as his own arms come back around you, large hands splayed out on your back as he rubs it to give you warmth and comfort.

“Why did you ask me about the holidays, babe?” he presses.

“I want to take you home with me,” that’s the truth. “My grandma has been asking me when I’m going to get married and maybe if they see I have a big strong boyfriend she and the rest of my aunts will leave me alone.”

Steve huffs another laugh, “Are they seriously asking you when you’re getting married?”

“Yeah,” with a nod, you push up again despite being completely at peace in Steve’s arms. “They’ve been asking since I graduated high school.”

“That’s odd,” he observes and you can see how it might be to others. “It’s always been like that in my family. My grandma got married when she was seventeen. Same for my mom. Had kids pretty quickly too. So, they’re kinda waiting for me to do the same. Because getting married and having kids is what I’m supposed to do.”

“Do you want to get married and have kids?” Steve’s hands stroke your hips, a small movement of passive affection.

He’s eager to give you all the touch you want in private but you know to keep things a little more tame in front of others. Steve isn’t big into the P.D.A.

“Eventually I guess. I don’t know. It’s not a question I feel like I need to answer right now. I’m a little more sure about the marriage than the kids but I’ve got lots of time to think about it.” you shrug.

“Yeah, we’ve got lots of time,” he asserts and your heart shoots into your throat, stomach twisting with fluttering wings that make it feel like you’re doing somersaults.

“We?” you smile, despite yourself.

“I wanna marry you eventually, I thought you knew that?”

“No,” you laugh.

“Oh, well now you know.”

“You can’t just spring that on me, Steve!”

He laughs now, hooking his hands behind your knees and yanks you closer. You’re right on him, and as you settle, you feel a familiar stirring between your bodies as the exhaustion of the mission wears off and his eagerness to show you how much he missed you becomes obvious.

“I think I just did,” he teases. “If you want to take me to meet your family, I am more than happy to come along. We have been together almost a year, it’s about time I think.”

“A year?” you gasp, realizing that it hasn’t been a few months after all.

Time with Steve is so much like a dream that it feels like it’s passed in the blink of an eye.

“Yeah, we hooked up in that closet off the shooting range on New Year’s Eve, remember?”

“Okay, first of all, hooked up? You’re spending too much time with Sam and Bucky.”

Your face heats up, neck burning and ears probably hot to the touch as the memory of you half drunk finding Steve alone in that shooting range.

You’d confessed recklessly and Steve had practically tackled you into the wall when he’d realized you were serious, despite being tipsy.

The frenzy that had followed that first kiss had been uncontrollable and he’d maneuvered you both into the bathroom and then pounded into you with you pinned between him and the counter.

You can still remember the shock of cold smooth concrete under your naked butt.

The next day, Steve had sought you out to tell you that he liked you too and that he wanted to take you out properly and that he was sorry for letting himself get out of hand the night before.

You responded by accepting his invitation but then luring him into your bedroom to ride him until he was breathless and groaning with satisfaction and you were twitching from reaching a third climax.

Your love with Steve has always been rooted in a very physical connection but over time, the emotional depth has increased exponentially and you’re best friends now, as well as lovers.

Now he’s here, remind you of that very beginning and telling you that it’s time to meet your family?

“You don’t have to go, Steve. My grandma will probably ask you a million questions and the rest of my family will be just as nosy and loud. We can get kind of rowdy when we get all together.”

The last thing you want to do is chas him off with an overbearing family, but at the same time...you love them! If he’s going to be in your life, he needs to accept them too, right?

What if he can’t? What will that mean for the two of you?

“Growing up it was just me and my mom,” Steve explains, stroking the length of your arms. “A big family is just what I need, I think.”

You watch him as he leans forward, his lips finding that stupid spot on your neck that always makes you melt.

As his tongue darts out, tracing a small circle, you absolutely collapse against him, arms wrapping up around his shoulders loosely, eyes very slightly rolling into the back of your head.

“Are you sure?”

“So sure,” he whispers, the heat of his breath raising goosebumps on your skin.

He pulls you down against his stiffened cock and you moan as he throws you back onto the bed.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Stop, you’re going to hurt yourself,” Steve urges, reaching over to place his hand in yours so that you can stop pulling and tugging at your own fingers.

“I’m nervous,” you admit, staring at the peach colored house with bright red trimming around every window and the bright red doorway. It’s absolutely covered in lights, twinkling in different colors. Traditional tiny lights but then around the tree in the front yard are huge bulbs, green, blue, yellow, and red.

They’re novelty lights? You’re not sure if that’s what they are, but you find them silly. Your grandpa’s idea probably.

Your grandmother’s house hasn’t changed one bit since you were little. The only thing that changes are the cars parked along the street, the large rose bushes along the front porch are bare.

Several green hard plastic chairs line the front wall angled oddly as someone had most likely been sitting there last night. Aunts and uncles, your mom and dad probably talking late into the night.

Even sitting in the car, with the engine idling, doors shut tight, you can already hear one of your aunts laughing her head off inside the house. The shouts of kids playing also reach your very normal ears. Steve must be able to hear everything.

“Do you think they won’t like me?” Steve worries, and now it’s your turn to turn and soothe his nerves.

“Oh, no, Steve. That’s not why. I know they’ll love you. I’m just afraid of what they’ll say. Or that they’ll smother you. I haven’t exactly told anyone in my family that I’m dating anyone much less…”

The two of you never talk about his official title. Who he is. Even though he’s retired in many ways, he’s still the first. Sam might be Captain America now, but everyone knows Steve as the original Captain America. There isn’t a person on this planet that doesn’t know who he is.

Normally, it doesn’t matter. To you, he’s just Steve Rogers. Super soldier, for sure, but just a man that swept you off your feet with his sweetness and kindness and okay, those damn shoulders and his ass is biteable. But he’s just Steve!

Your family will see the title first, you’re sure of it. They’ll see Captain America.

“Are they not big Captain America fans?” his teasing is gentle and innocent.

“Steve!” you shut your eyes and chuckle, “ I’m seriously so worried.”

“I can take it, hon. I’m a big boy. Come on, let’s get in there. I wanna meet your grandma.”

Suddenly he throws his door open and steps out of the car, shutting it off as he goes.

“Wait!” you gasp, scurrying to get out with him. 

You scamper around the car until you’re beside him and take hold of his hand. He pulls you towards the door confidently but you let go of his hand and rush forward before he can reach it.

Fixing your hair, you push the door open and are immediately assaulted by the smell of spicy menudo. It makes your mouth water. The smell of spices and pine sol. Fabuloso is mixed in there too, your mom’s idea to mix the two cleansers together and use them to make a unique smelling concoction that gets the linoleum floors cleaner than if you used one or the other.

The low sofas are covered in shining clear plastic, no doubt put in place by your grandma just before all the family began to arrive. The flat screen is decorated with a simple green garland, beside the TV console is a low table where the remote sits on a lace doily, underneath in a wooden pocket are several magazines and underneath the pocket on the base of the table sits a blue round tin of butter cookies that no doubt has all of your grandma’s sewing things instead of the treats it promises.

The house isn’t big. In fact, it’s on the small side. The large master bedroom is situated at the back of the house along with the bathroom, past the kitchen where you can see the light on all of your aunts sitting around the table exchanging their respective chisme and keeping their hands busy with something you can’t see.

From the hallway to your right where the only two guest rooms are located along with a second half bath come running two of your younger cousins. They’re children still, your youngest Tia’s kids.

They don’t even notice you as you stop walking, choosing to run instead towards the back door in the distance past the kitchen, master bedroom, and bathroom.

One of your other aunts, the second oldest, turns her head as they run behind her.

“Que chingaos les dije?! Stop running in and out or I’m gonna kick your asses!” She yells at them, but the kids ignore her and disappear through the door. It slams shut behind them.

“Lulu, no les puedes decir algo?! They keep running in and out of here like wild animals.” Your second eldest aunt demands.

“They’re just playing, leave them alone.” Your Tia Lulu waves her sister off.

To your right you finally notice the centerpiece of the living room, a huge christmas tree with red, blue, and green glass ornaments. The lights are white, twinkling in different patterns, tinsel covering every branch to an obscene amount. At the top sits an old porcelain angel that your grandmother had once told you she’d received from her own grandmother and had actually been made in Mexico by some nun at an old church that had been knocked down a long time ago to make room for a cattle ranch.

The base of the tree is almost completely obscured by the dozens and dozens of presents from very large to very small. Each one is addressed to one or other member of the family. The kids especially all get gifts from each of your uncles and aunts.

You take another step towards the kitchen only to be stopped again as the restroom in the hallway to your right flushes and from inside it emerges your grandfather, buckling his belt as he lumbers out.

“Grandpa,” you call to him excitedly and he whips his head up then beams at the sight of you.

“Mijita bonita, cuando llegaste? Aye, chula…” His words fade out as he reaches you with his arms outstretched and pulls you into a quick tight hug.

His large hands pat you on the back several times before he kisses your cheek. He brings his hands to your shoulders and pushes you back a little to get a look at you.

“When did you get here?” he repeats, and gives your arms a squeeze.

“Just now,” you begin, but as you’d hugged your grandpa had turned you around and Steve moves in behind him.

He meets your eyes, shrinking a little, drawing his shoulders in to make himself smaller in the very normal person sized house.

“Grandpa, uh, I have um...this is my boyfriend, Steve,” with one arm extended you gesture towards the super soldier standing by the door.

“Steve?! ¿Trajiste un gringo?”

Your grandpa whips around, searching at average height level for the white boy you’ve brought and finds himself face to face with Steve’s chest.

He adjusts quickly, finding Steve’s face and with a gasp, he slams his hand over his heart and laughs.

“That’s Captain America!” he laughs.

The declaration brings the kitchen to a pause and like dominoes all of your aunts rise one by one, moving into the doorway of the kitchen to catch a glimpse at the commotion in the living room.

More gasps follow and soon you can’t hear yourself think as they all break into a cacophony of excited chatter.

Your Tia Lulu is the first to shove her way through, as she’s the youngest, she smiles at Steve flirtatiously before shoving your grandpa out of the way.

“Move aside, dad! Hello, hi. I’m Consuela but everyone calls me Lulu. You can call me sweetheart.” She throws out her tongue as she laughs, a clear joke but Steve good naturedly takes her hand and shakes it, a shy but kind smile on his handsome face.

“Oh my God, Tia, stop,” you plead.

“I’m just kidding, werca fregada. Don’t get your panties all in a twist.” She swats at you while your grandpa retreats to the sofa where he must have been sitting before, stuffing fives, tens, and twenties into envelopes for the kids.

Grandma and Grandpa never get anyone anything. They just put money in envelopes for the kids.

As your aunts file in, all five of them, you wait until Steve looks at you to bite your bottom lip and mouth a quick apology.

He shakes his head, setting your heart at ease as your aunts circle around him talking fast and occasionally asking him a question or two which he answers readily.

“A year.”

“I’m not sure.”

“Well, I’m not Captain America anymore.”

“Consulting mostly.”

“Yeah, I-I have my own place.”

“It’s a rental.”

Your aunts gasp at that in particular, “Ooh, it’s a rental. Those can be so expensive. Did you get the insurance?”

“Uh, well, no. I didn’t mean, it’s actually one of Tony’s-Stark. He had it set aside for us when he found out we were coming to visit.”

The madness reignites at the mention of Iron Man and as they plunge into more questions, your turn just in time as your mom makes her way over to you.

“Why didn’t you call me?” she wraps you up in her arms and you hug her back, holding it for a little longer than you normally would but you’ve been so stressed with bringing Steve here that you feel a relief wash over you not only because she’s there to help you, but to finally have it happening means you can stop the anticipation.

“I’m sorry, mom. I decided to get him down here super last minute and I kinda wanted it to be a surprise. Where’s dad?”

“He’s out back with your tios. Drinking already,” she shakes her head but there’s no surprise there from anyone. “They’ve got the pit going. Chicken and fajitas to go with the menudo.”

“It smells so freaking good,” you laugh.

“Is he really your boyfriend? How long has this been going on? How come you haven’t told me?”

The hurt in your mom’s voice is subtle but you hear it and lament it.

“I was going to tell you. Every time I called. But at first it was too new and then after that I just didn’t know how to explain it to you. I know you hate my job. Now I’m dating a former Avenger?”

It’s her turn to look apologetic.

“Mija, you could have told me. I do hate that you put yourself in harm’s way, but that’s your job. No mom is going to like that.”

She takes a moment to glance at Steve, then with a flick of her eyebrows and a quick nod in his direction, she scoots closer, “Isn’t he like super old?”

You laugh and nod.

“He’s older than grandpa,” She laughs with you as you whisper, Steve giving you two a quick glance.

“He doesn’t look it,” your mom admits.

A tiny upturn to the corner of his lip tells you he can hear everything you’re saying.

“Is it serious?” She asks, letting you steer her towards the kitchen as her probing continues.

Inside the kitchen you find the entire kitchen table cleared of the usual place mats and ceramic Jesus centerpiece to make room for the bowls of masa, cooked seasoned pork and chicken for the filling of what will be tomorrow’s tamales.

At the stove you see your grandma a well worn lime green apron tied tightly around her waist and neck, huddled over the very tall and large pot, stirring and adding seasoning to the murky russet soup inside.

“I hope that has lots of posole!”

Your grandma turns at your voice and her face lights up.

“Mijita, chula!” she gushes, rushing forward to wrap her arms around you and kiss your cheek with a loud smack.

“Hi, grandma, I missed you so much,” you realize, hugging her tight.

“Por qué no nos dijiste que ibas a venir? Werca, cabrona!” she smacks you hard and you laugh, holding her hands as she pulls back to look at you. “You need to eat more.”

“Grandma, I’m eating fine,” you laugh, amused by the direction her thoughts go.

“She brought a boy home, mom,” your mom gives you away, then sticks her tongue out at you as she replaces her mother’s place at the pot.

“Mom!”

“You brought a boy?” she’s ecstatic! “A boyfriend?”

“Yes, he’s a boyfriend.”

“What’s his name?” she starts wiping her hands on her apron, cleaning them up to meet Steve.

“His name is Steve.”

“Es un gringo?!” her exclamation of surprise is just like grandpa’s.

“Yes, he’s white, does it matter?”

“Pos, no. It doesn’t matter, as long as he’s nice to you. Is he good to you?”

“He’s the best, grandma. He insists on taking me out every Friday to eat and watch a movie.”

Well, every Friday that you or he aren’t on mission. And it’s such a small thing but you know it’ll make her happy to know that he takes you out.

“Ooh, that’s good,” she approves. “Does he have a good job?”

“He’s a consultant where I work.”

“With the Avengers?” she gasps.

“Yeah.”

“A consultant? What does that mean? Is he a nerd?”

You laugh, throwing your head back, “He’s the biggest nerd, though he’ll never admit it.”

“Well, andale, let’s go meet your boyfriend,” she pushes you towards the doorway and you make to lead the way. “Is it serious?”

She whispers the second question, though you know that Steve will be able to hear.

Is it serious? “I uh…”

“Ayt! Don’t you all have husbands?”

Saving Steve from your aunts, your grandma moves forward and pushes and pulls and slaps them away from him, shoving them back towards the kitchen.

“Esos tamales no se van hacer solos.”

“Ow, mom! Stop hitting us,” your eldest aunt Margarita frowns.

“Magge, no te da verguenza?”

“Why should I be embarrassed?! Have you seen her boyfriend? Steve, do you like older women?” your Tia throws back at him as your other aunts push past you, patting you in the back and whispering congratulations at your luck.

“Technically I’m older,” he calls and everyone looks at him, not talking, apparently in shock at the fact that he truly is over a hundred years old.

“Oh my God, your boyfriend is Captain America?!” your grandma realizes, turning to slap your shoulder lightly for not explaining yourself.

Everyone bursts into laughter, the chatter moving into the kitchen as you join the laughter, Steve smiling from ear to ear as your mom rushes back out, eager to meet him.

Grandma pulls him into a hug and he gently returns it, smiling politely as she gushes over how handsome he is and how tall and then getting angry at you for not feeding him before admiring the exquisite shape of his body.

“Your grandpa had a body like this when he was young, mija,” grandma assures you. “I don’t know what happened.”

“Probably all the tamales,” you tease and she smacks you gently again before laughing in genuine amusement.

~~~~~~~~~~

You can’t find Steve anywhere. The kids are all inside, watching Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer in the living room, crowded around the flat screen with expressions that range from amusement to boredom.

Mostly it’s the older kids that are tired of the claymation film. They’ve seen it every year since they were old enough to sit up.

“Should I change it?” you wander in from the front, your Tias laughing as the door shuts behind you cutting the sound off.

One of the things you’d missed was the happiness that filled the house this time of year. Even though they fight like cats, it’s cats that are sisters and love each other deep down.

They always end up laughing again eventually. 

Your cousin Claudia sits up at your offer, “Yes! Put something else on!”

“No!” the littler ones revolt.

“Even if it’s Elf?”

You stop by the TV, remote already in hand and all of their eyes light right up.

“Okay, okay, put Elf!”

Their accents make you smile. Like you, they’d probably grown up speaking mostly spanish as a toddler and then as you’d started school, English had begun to push in as your default leaving you with a heavy accent for a few years.

Now it’s almost completely gone and only emerges when you shout angrily, or so Steve says.

As the opening narration begins, you catch Claudia’s eyes and give her the remote, “Have you seen Steve?”

“Captain America?” she smirks, getting a serious kick out of your choice of boyfriend.

But you’d also seen her all flustered when she’d met him. She thinks he’s hot and honestly, he is so you can’t blame her. At sixteen, she’s lost almost all of her bashfulness.

“Yes, Steve. Have you seen him?”

“He went out back with Tio, I think.”

“My dad?!” you gasp, already terrified of what they might be talking about.

“Yeah, he looked nervous. You should probably go save him from Tio’s interrogation.”

“Yeah, thanks,” you throw at her, already moving towards the back door in a hurry.

The inside of the house is toasty warm, especially with the tamales cooking and the menudo on low heat to keep it warm in case anyone wants thirds or fourths.

“Where are you going?” your mom asks as you pass by.

She’s sitting at the kitchen table, across from your grandma talking in hushed tones.

“To get Steve, Claudia said he was with dad.”

“Well, leave them alone, I’m sure he’s being nice.”

Your grandma laughs and you shove the door open and disappear back out into the chilly winter night.

Wrapping your arms around yourself to combat the chill that begins to set in, you scan the backyard and move past your tios sitting around the clearly diy firepit one of them had built for your grandparents, each one knocking back a beer in either bottle or can.

They’re not as loud as your tias but they’re still talking loudly, laughing and then arguing over the superbowl.

“No manches, guey. That linebacker doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing. He should have stayed in Atlanta.”

You tune them out as you spot Steve and your dad standing by the table of barbecue a little further out by the back corner of the chain link fence.

Steve is standing with one hand on the tongs, flipping over some of the leftover chicken your grandma asked your dad to cook since someone will eat it eventually.

They’re talking, both in deep conversation until Steve smiles and seems to relax. Your dad, who stands at five feet, nine inches in height, has to reach up to clap Steve on the shoulder then smiles too, both of them turning their focus on the chicken.

“What the fuck?” you mutter, moving towards them with purposeful steps.

Both of them look up as you approach and immediately Steve hands your dad the tongs before moving towards you and peeling off his black leather jacket.

“Hon, why are you out here without a coat? It’s cold.” he says sweetly.

He can’t feel the temperature like you can but he can tell when you’re cold.

“Dad? What are you two doing out here?”

You’re so suspicious of your dad, worried he might be saying things to hurt Steve, but both of them look happy even.

“I’m showing him how we make the chicken,” your dad says innocently.

“Uh huh...sure you are.”

“He was,” Steve promises.

“I don’t trust you,” you say sternly, using one finger to point up into Steve’s ridiculously handsome face. “You’re just trying to suck up to my family.”

“Me?” he gasps, forced innocence on his face now too.

You narrow your eyes at both of them in turn, wrapping your arms around yourself again as Steve rubs them to try and warm you up.

“Come on, let’s go back inside,” Steve urges you, then turns to look at your dad. “Thanks for the lesson, Hector, I’ll keep it in mind for the future.”

“What lesson?”

“Never you mind, nosy. Come on, before you catch a cold.”

Steve sits you on the sofa once he’s got you inside and settles in pulling you against his side then kissing your temple before turning his focus on Buddy the Elf sitting in a bathroom singing with Zoey Deschanel as she showers.

“When did you sneak off to talk to my dad?”

Eyes narrowed, you watch him for any of his usual tells that he might be lying or hiding something from you.

So far, nothing.

“I didn’t sneak off. You were busy talking to your aunt and your dad invited to show me how to make the chicken. He was nice, serious about you. He wanted me to know that he’s got his eyes on me and if I hurt you all of your uncles will come find me and castrate me.”

He smiles wide, amused by this for some reason.

“It’s been a while since I’ve felt fear like that. Your dad really meant it.”

You’re not convinced but he reaches down to take hold of your chin and force you to look at him.

“Give me a kiss, pouty.” he requests.

How can you resist? You lean up and give him a quick kiss but then the kids say, “Ooooooh.”

You turn to them and throw Claudia a pillow but she laughs and catches it, leading the rest of them into giggles.

~~~~~~~~~~

The night grows older and everyone comes inside. As midnight approaches, the kids filter into their usual seats at the feet of their respective parents. Your six aunts and their husbands pile onto the sofas or linger in doorways, all attention diverted to the Christmas tree and the piles of presents underneath.

Your grandma and grandpa get center seating on the longest sofa, both of them ready with cash envelopes in hand for giving out as soon as the time comes.

Your dad on the other hand sits himself by the tree and while all of the adults talk amongst themselves, the kids are as quiet as they will ever be, little to teen eyes all trained on the pile of gifts.

“Mija, ven siéntate aqui. Magge, dale el asiento a tu sobrina,” your grandmother calls, waving you over to sit beside her.

Your aunt looks from your grandmother to you and then back, looking almost affronted by the request until your grandma gives her a face of deep annoyance.

Your aunt has a moment of realization, then sighs but begins to get up.

“No! Tia, it’s okay. I’ll stand. I’m alright here.”

“Don’t argue with me and get your butt over here,” your grandmother interrupts.

“She never sees you,” your tia reminds you. “Come sit here, I’ll sit on your tio’s lap.”

“Like hell you will, you wanna break my legs?”

“Callate lo sico, estupido imbecil,” she smacks him in the arm but then sits in his lap and he smirks as he wraps his arms around her waist.

Steve pushes you towards her, then leans down to kiss your cheek.

He knows you hate to leave him standing there.

“Go, sit with your grandma.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, of course babe. Go.” He kisses your cheek again then pushes you towards the sofa.

As you settle in, giving him another look of consideration, your grandma takes your hand and holds it gently plucking a smile from your worried expression.

“He’s okay, no one is going to take him from you.”

Not that you think anyone would, but it’s a common phrase among couples who are glued at the hip.

As your grandma’s old cuckoo clock chimes in midnight, your dad points at your cousin Claudia who gets up and quickly shuts off the living room light leaving all of you in the glow of the white twinkle lights.

As your dad begins to call out names, the kids scoot closer in excitement and watch as they’re each handed gifts after gifts.

Eventually the floor begins to fill with crumpled up wrapping paper and colorful bows and ribbon. Toys are yanked from boxes and the laughter begins to fill the room again.

Your aunts and uncles also get their names called and you don’t feel bad that your name is never called.

They had no idea you were coming and your Tia Magge leans towards you, “I’m sorry we didn’t get you anything, Mija. We didn’t know you were coming.”

“Oh, I know, Tia. It’s okay. I just wanted to see you all and bring Steve to meet you.”

As you gesture towards where you left him standing, you find him missing but think nothing of it as he might have just gone to the bathroom.

There are only two gifts left under the tree, one very large one which your dad calls out for your grandpa, and then he pulls a shoe sized box, wrapped in silver paper onto his lap but gestures at your grandma who lets go of your hand and begins to call names out and pass the envelopes with money to the kids.

Because you can’t stand sitting there any longer, the mess on the floor still growing, you get up and move into the kitchen.

Trash bag in hand you move back out to the living room and begin to stoop over and pick up the wrappings of all the presents exchanged tonight.

Your grandma calls out Claudia’s name and as the teen sits back down, your dad clears his throat.

“We have one more gift, and it’s for my beautiful daughter,” he says, shocking you into standing as he calls your name.

“Me?!” you gasp, completely in shock.

You hadn’t been expecting anything though you and Steve had definitely brought gifts for everyone.

Your gift had been the ability to see such bright smiles as they opened said presents.

“Here,” your dad holds it out and you let go of the trash bag as Claudia takes it from you.

With a quick wipe of your brow, you take the gift and look for a name so that you’ll know who to thank, but there’s no name.

“Open it!” One of the younger kids says with excitement.

“Yeah, rip it!” another urges.

“Rip it?” you chuckle, and rip it.

It is indeed a shoebox, but as you lift the lid and place it underneath, you find in the shoebox another box, slightly smaller, also sealed up tight this time in pink shiny wrapping paper..

“Oh my God,” you laugh, shaking your head in disbelief.

You open that box too, tossing the wrapping paper to Claudia who tosses it for you as you find yourself staring at yet another box, wrapped in green snowflake paper.

“What the hell is going on here?” you laugh again, tearing it open and finding a smaller one.

This goes on and your family laughs at you as you open box after box after box, until finally the smallest box is the size of laptop charging block.

“How the hell does anyone even find a box this small?!” you gasp, shaking your head as your shoulders shake with laughter.

You tear the last box open, discarding the bright red paper then open the top to find a small black velvet bag with a drawstring pulled shut.

“Finally!”

Your exclamation brings laughter from the room and as you pull the bag open, you turn it over since the room is in semi-darkness and you can’t see in.

Onto your palm tumbles a silver ring. Sitting on top is an emerald cut diamond, solitaire, that glimmers in the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree.

“What the-?” you start, but from the hallway behind your mom emerges Steve, looking nervous as fuck.

He swallows hard as he walks towards you, stopping only when he’s right in front of you then slowly, as butterflies tumble violently in your lower belly, he kneels.

“Oh my God…” you whisper, too shocked to speak any louder.

He says your name, clears his throat because his voice shakes, and you smile, on the verge of laughing or crying. You’re not sure which.

“In just about a week we’ll have been together for exactly one year, but I’ve known since you pulled that bullet out of my a-my backside and called me a big baby for whining about it that you were the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.

“Both of us work in a very dangerous job but I don’t think I know anyone else who is as brave or strong or sure of themselves as you. I wasn’t sure what to expect from life after I gave up being Captain America.

“Suddenly there were an infinite amount of possibilities ahead of me and yet, not once did I think that marrying anyone would be the path I’d take. I’d given up on love, on the chance of a normal life, but you’ve woken me up. You’ve pulled me out of my past and with you I can see that future we talked about the other morning.

“I see my life as your husband and father to our kids laid out in front of us and I can’t wait to get started. So, I guess, I just need to ask?”

Your family laughs, reminding you that you two are not alone.

“You’ve always said that if someone proposed to you, you wouldn’t want it to be in public and well, these people are your family so they’re not public. They represent a life I would very much like to be a part of. I’ve had no one for so long, I want this family, so will you marry me? Will you let me be a part of your family?”

You’re in shambles. You’re sobbing, smiling through the waterworks as your heart pounds so hard in your chest and all of the oxygen threatens to leave your brain.

“Yes!” you gasp, and the room explodes with cheers and applause.

Steve takes the ring and quickly slips it onto your finger before rising and pulling you flush against his body. He kisses you eagerly, laughing against your own lips as you kiss him back just as passionately.

As he pulls back, an audible smack snuffed out by the roar of excitement in the room, you search his eyes for any form of doubt.

There’s none.

“Is this what you were talking to daddy about? Asking me to marry you?”

“It was the right thing to do,” Steve explains, and you feel vindicated in your earlier suspicions.

“Jerk!” you smack his chest but he pulls you in for another kiss.

The two of you share in the moment for only one more second before your grandmother is pulling you two apart so that she can hug you and kiss Steve’s cheek. Your mom is also in tears, hugging you tight as your dad hugs you both, then shakes Steve’s hand before pulling him in for a quick hug.

There’s a terrifying POP that sends you and Steve ducking from instinct, but you find your grandpa holding up a bottle of champagne.

“¿Dónde está la música? Turn on the radio! Let’s celebrate!” He shouts, lifting the bottle to his lips.

As the kids spring up and split up throughout the household to play with their toys, your aunts and uncles begin to pair off, swaying and singing at the very top of their lungs as Feliz Navidad fills the room.

Steve makes his way back towards you, swerving past your excited family until he has his arms around you again, pulling you in close until he can sway you to the beat of the music.

“I’m guessing the party is just getting started?”

“Oh, babe, you just gave them the fuel to go until the sun comes up.”

Steve chuckles leans down to kiss you again, summoning an encore of cheers.

[headoverheelsforramsey]

Hiiiii! Here are this week's different questions lol

Not Yet Wed Questions

Note: Great Scott! This week, we are going back in time to MC’s intern year. Think of Ethan’s relationship with them at this point and answer the following questions accordingly. It is entirely up to you when in year 1 this takes place (pre/post Miami, pre/post CH 15, etc). Feel free to answer with dialogue or pictures or both :) Have fun!

No worries. All of this is off the record and HR will never know!

The setting for this answers is:

For Both

When I first saw them, I thought__________

What is your coworker's most used swear word?

Quick: What color are their eyes?

Three people at work your coworker hates?

What is your coworker’s strangest or most endearing quirk?

If they had a crush on anyone at work, who would that be?

(Bonus round! Feel free to skip.)

Never have I Ever:

come into work hungover

had a fistfight

been kicked out of a bar

gotten a tattoo

broken someone’s heart

been in love

For MC (Ethan is not there)

Where do you see him in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

What do you find the most impressive about him?

Last thing he texted you?

If he asked you out on a date, what would you say?

For Ethan (MC is not there)

Where do you see him in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

What specifically do you find attractive about her?

Last thing she texted you?

If she asked you out on a date, how would you respond?

Hello Hello Bree! My weekly dose of sunshine has arrived! 🤗

Sorry this took so long I am literally neck deep in assignments.

Anyways can I just say that these questions were just brilliant!! Book 1 is so close to our hearts and Ethan MC dynamic back in the day was priceless. 😂

Just a fair warning this contains a lot of pinching noses and rolling eyes because that's what book 1 Ethan used to do all the time. So now let the fun begin! 🤩

The setting for this answers is: Post Chap 15, before the ethics trial.

Ethan : Remind me again why I am doing this?

Meera : Because you are unemployed and have a lot of free time, also because I asked nicely? (with puppy eyes)

Ethan (Rolls eyes)

FOR BOTH

When I first saw them, I thought__________

*Both of them wait for each other to answer*

Ethan : You go first, this was your idea.

Meera : Oh boy. Why do I have the feeling you are going to hate me even more after this?

Ethan : I can't hate you more than I did when I first met you.

Meera (expectantly) : So you are saying the hatred for me has declined since then?

Ethan : Just answer the damn question.

Meera : Okay fine. I thought "why is this person being so rude to me? I am still a kid I am still learning. Such an asshole, gotta keep outta his path."

Ethan (looks at her amused) : I thought "ah shit here we go again. A new bunch of nerve wrecking idiotic interns incoming."

Meera (dramatically opens her mouth and places her hands on her chest) : Ouch! Rude!

Ethan (sly grin)

What is your coworker's most used swear word?

Meera : Jesus. Christ. Jesus Christ. He is religious that way. (winks)

Ethan : Very funny Rookie. She on the other hand has an explicit vocabulary in slangs but I think I have heard holy shit, holy cow, holy fuck the most.

Meera (excitedly) : See I am religious too. Also look at us twining in swears.

Quick: What color are their eyes?

Meera (immediately) : Ocean Blue! No, Celestial blue!

Ethan (looks at Meera, surprised)

Meera (suddenly concious) : Blue. Just plain simple blue.

Ethan (thinks for a moment)

Meera (puts a hand over her eyes)

Ethan : What are you doing?

Meera : I won't let you cheat.

Ethan : Cheat? I don't cheat.

Meera : Ofcourse the great Ethan Ramsey doesn't cheat. Then go ahead and ans---

Ethan : Dark brown.

Meera (impressed with him)

Three people at work your coworker hates?

Meera (heaves out a long dramatic sigh) : Ask me whom he doesn't?

Ethan : I tolerate most of them though.

Meera (chuckles) : I think it'll be Dr. Thorne, Dr. Myles and Dr. Hirata. Atleast these are the ones he complains about the most.

Ethan : Hmm. Fair enough. Bose here obviously hates that back stabbing "friend" whose name I'd rather die than learn. And I think Dr. Emery and Dr. Mirani also falls under this list.

Meera : Full point for the first one, but I think Aurora is a good person overall, she has some issues, which we need to work out. And I don't hate Zaid, I just don't like how he is always in a grumpy melancholic mood.

Ethan : Which is very justified of him given that he has to work with the interns the majority of his work hours.

What is your coworker’s strangest or most endearing quirk?

Meera : Easy, pinching the bridge of his nose and rolling his eyes when annoyed, which is all the time by the way.

Ethan : I think adjusting her glasses when it threatens to slip from her nose and forming her lips in a strange way when concentrating.

Bree : I am sorry doctor could you just explain the last part better.

Ethan (rolls his eyes and tries to do his best impression of Meera's pout)

Meera (chuckles) : That's not how it's done, Ethan. This is how it's done (pouts)

Ethan : Yeah same thing.

If they had a crush on anyone at work, who would that be?

Ethan : Crush? What are we? Highschool students? I am not answering that. (prepares to leave)

Meera : I think it might be Dr. Emery.

Ethan (stops short on his way out, turns around and takes a seat again) : Really Rookie? Fine you want to know her crush? It's that scalpel jockey, or that paramedic guy she is so friends with or maybe that other Indian intern roomate she has.

Meera : What! No. They are my friends. What made you think that?

Ethan : What made you think Harper is my crush?

Bree : Okay doctors let's move on to the next round.

Never have I Ever:

come into work hungover

Meera : Nope!

Ethan : Never. We are doctors we might get someone loose their life.

had a fistfight

Meera : Yes.

Ethan (looks at her unbelievingly) : I thought you were the harmless kind.

Meera (smugly) : I am mostly harmless, untill you get on my bad side. What about you?

Ethan : I'll have to say no.

Meera : You punched Nash though.

Ethan : He didn't punch me back, so doesn't count Rookie.

been kicked out of a bar

Meera : Unfortunately yes.

Ethan : Unfortunately yes too.

Meera : What?! The great Ethan Ramsey?

Ethan : Stop calling me that. I am a human afterall and I had some very stupid friends back in med school.

gotten a tattoo

Ethan : No.

Meera : Yes.

Ethan (smirks)

broken someone’s heart

Meera : Not that I know off

Ethan : I am not proud of it but yes.

been in love

Ethan : No.

Meera : Expected. For me it's yes. Maybe it didn't last but I can't say what we had wasn't love.

For Meera (Ethan is not there)

Where do you see him in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

He thinks he won't practice medicine anymore because he can't solve Naveen's case but I know he won't be able to resist helping people and ofcourse that is what Naveen always wanted. So, professionally, he is doing wonders. Inspiring thousands of hearts, guiding hundreds of young doctors and saving millions of lives. The diagnostic team has becomes globally recognised. He has written another book or two. Maybe won the Lasker Awards.

Personally, I hope he is happy and not lonely. He needs someone by his side. Someone who can tolerate his sarcasm and critisisim. Someone who will put a smile on his face when he wakes up beside her. Maybe he'll have a family, if that someone is really strong-willed. (let's out a dry laugh)

What do you find the most impressive about him?

His passion for what he does. He just lights up and enrapts the entire room when he speaks about medicine. And I just get lost in the sea of passion in his eyes. Also his stubbornness and unwillingness to give up is really impressive.

Last thing he texted you?

I'll show you wait.

He ordered about half a dozen books on Medical Law and Ethics for me.

If he asked you out on a date, what would you say?

(stays silent for a long time)

I don't think so he will. Like the chances are really really thin but trust me if he does I wouldn't dare say no. (colour rises to her cheeks)

But yes that's in a different world. A world in which we don't live. (sighs wistfully)

For Ethan (Meera is not there)

Where do you see her in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

If she manages to save her lisence she'll be a wonderful doctor. She'll save innumerable lives and be one of the brightest stars in medicine. I am sure she'll secure a spot on the DT and maybe even lead it someday. She'll make me proud. (smiles genuinely)

Personally I hope she'll be with someone who loves her more than anything and that she is with literally anybody else but that scalpel jockey. She'll have a loving caring partner who'll cook her meals when she comes home from a twelve hour shift. She'll have amazing friends especially the ones she has now. They really love her and they didn't think twice before helping her out with Mrs. Martinez's case.

Maybe she'll have a family. A few kids who will also grow up to show a stunning reflection of their mother.

What specifically do you find attractive about her?

Ethan : I can't say attractive but I'll say I like her personality. She has a magnetic one that makes sure to turn heads any time she walks into a room. Also I love that she cares so deeply about people and she is willing to go out of her way to put a smile on these people's face. Like for example Mrs. Martinez.

Bree : So is this "like" or "love"?

Ethan : Did I? Did I just say love? I am so sorry I meant like.

Bree : Could you enlist something physically attractive about her?

Ethan : If I have to. I'd say I love, er... like, like her laughter. It literally brightens the entire room. (blushes)

Last thing she texted you?

"Thank you Ethan"

If she asked you out on a date, how would you respond?

(sighs) I would feel lucky to go on a date with her, but right now in this situation? It's too complicated. I can't jeopardize her career, so it's a no form me, despite my actual feelings.

This was so fun! Thank you once again @jamespotterthefirst

Tagging my usual : @starrystarrytrouble @mm2305 @charisworld @choicesfanaf @potionsprefect @genevievemd  @shanzay44 @little-flowers-on-heaven @schnitzelbutterfingers  @coffeeheartaddict @gryffindordaughterofathena @chemist-ana @adiehardfan @custaroonie @ireneadlerisseggsy @takemyopenheart @natureblooms24 @mainstreetreader @izzyourresidentlawyer @a-crepusculo @quixoticdreamer16 @starryeyedrookie @barbean

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed. And if you want to sit out only the answers to the ask games hit me up too. There won't be any hard feelings. I promise. 💜

[multimetaverse]

HSMTMTS 2x01 Review

New Year’s Eve was a great way to return to HSMTMTS especially after such a long gap. Let’s dig in!

Vladimir Lenin once said that, ‘’ there are decades where nothing happens; and there are weeks where decades happen". It’s been almost a year and half since S1 ended but this past week has seen revelation after revelation as the fandom has resurrected itself and promotion for S2 kicked into high gear: Joshua Bassett came out, Frankie and Joe confirmed that they are a real life couple, Larry seemingly confirmed that S2 will only have 11 eps rather than the 12 initially ordered, and perhaps most importantly Olivia revealed that she and the main cast are under contract for 4 seasons and made clear that she’s leaving the show as soon as her contract is up.

I really enjoyed this premiere, it felt like picking up right back where we left off. I’m guessing that S2 was originally supposed to premiere around Christmas or New Year’s but the holiday decorations and real Utah snow add a charming aesthetic to the ep. Tim Federle deserves credit for giving HSMTMTS more of an ensemble feel which is no easy feat with a cast as large as this show has. It likely won’t last due to covid restrictions  but at least for tonight we got to see all the characters hanging out together acting like a real group of friends.

The dialogue tonight really reminded me of Glee and I think I mean that as a compliment. Miss Jenn in particular seems to be doing her best April Rhodes impression minus the alcoholism. 

The rini scenes tonight were lovely. Perfect gift was a great song and I loved the rini duet during the music in me as the world faded around them leaving just the two of them. The Harry Styles reference is funny in light of Josh’s coming out interview. Of course, it’s hard now to separate Nini and Ricky and Olivia and Josh. Their chemistry shines through as 2x01, 2x02, and possibly parts of 2x03 were filmed pre Jolivia breakup which seems to have happened around summer 2020. Whether they can keep that same chemistry later on in S2, not to mention future seasons, remains to be seen.

A major theme tonight was communication and clearly Rini need to work on theirs. Poor Ricky had to learn that Nini’s moving to Denver the night before she leaves town which has to remind of him of his mom effectively abandoning him. Ricky saying that he’s never gonna breakup with Nini ever again sure sounds like foreshadowing for a disaster though the odds that this time Nini initiates the breakup are pretty good. 

I’m glad that the show is continuing to delve in the Bowen’s divorce story with their house being sold and Ricky and his dad having to move into an apartment. Divorce is expensive and the division of assets typically leave people less well off. Mike Bowen needs to work on his communication skills but he’s rocking that beard; it takes him from depressed divorced dad to depressed divorced daddy.

Seblos was cute and in a nice change of pace Disney doesn’t seem to be cynically teasing them then cutting their scenes. It was refreshing to see them just being a couple and to hear Carlos casually refer to himself as gay. In that regard tonight’s ep didn’t seem like it was a Disney show at all and it’s major progress that there are now two main gay characters on HSMTMTS. We learn that Carlos is rich which seems likely to be a source of conflict with Seb who comes from a large farming family.

Bet on It was really fun and I liked that Ricky apparently couldn’t stop singing it. The medley of HSM 2 songs was fun but I’ll be real with you wildcats, I never thought HSM 2 or 3 were nearly as good as the first movie so I’m not sad that they’re doing something else this year.

Wild that Big Red’s mom also calls him Big Red. Salt Lake Slices seems poised to be a big part of S2 both as hangout spot and work location for some of the characters. Redlyn are sweet together but sometimes Big Red comes off as a closeted gay guy which isn’t ideal for a het pairing that is supposedly a big part of S2.

Nice to see Gina so excited to have sleepovers with Ashlyn. We know from 2x03 that Gina contends with being single on Valentine’s day and from her glances at Ricky tonight she’s clearly not over him. Tim’s playing with fire and I can only hope he knows what he’s doing. I liked the little detail of Kourtney having AOC on her vision board, it feels true to the character (hopefully AOC gets elected president one day if the USA doesn’t collapse into a fascist dictatorship or civil war before then). EJ’s beard has got to go but I like that he seems committed to being a better version of himself; very doubtful his plan to go straight to Duke like his forefathers doesn’t change by the end of the season. 

Derek Hough did a good job of playing Zach as a subtly condescending man who managed to swiftly undermine Miss Jenn’s confidence, we’ll see what he and North High bring to the table.

Looking Ahead:

Next week are auditions for Beauty and the Beast, we know Ashlyn gets the role of Belle and EJ has conveniently removed himself from the running for Beast which presumably clears the path for Ricky to take the lead. There’s been some controversy over the casting choices and I’ll save my comments about it for the 2x02 review.

We get to see Lily who looks like a meaner version of season 1 Gina, we’ll see how much depth she actually ends up getting. Howie is introduced in 2x03 and Antoine likely shows up later on. Jack likely shows up towards the end of the season.

Howie seems to have a connection with Kourtney though the character synopsis does say he gets close to a wildcat or two which certainly leaves room to slide him into Gina’s plot. We know Antoine is into Ashlyn so that’s another love triangle to look forward to. Jack was described as having wanderlust and most of the cast seems not to have filmed with him so I think it’s likely that he plays a role in convincing EJ to take a gap year rather than head straight to Duke. 

A translation leak on TikTok reveals that in 2x03 Gina is sad that she’s only gotten a Valentine’s Day gift from her mom. A brief clip from the promo shows up her on her porch at night holding a heart shaped box of chocolates. If that’s supposed to be from a secret or semi-secret admirer than it has to be from either EJ, Ricky, or Howie. If it’s a platonic gift then it could be from anyone, we’ll see what Tim has up his sleeves.

Nini moving back to SLC is a question of when not if. It’s going to be very difficult to bring her back in a way that’s justified and also doesn’t leave the time she spends in Denver looking like a total waste. Frankly, I’d rather the show just bite the bullet and bring her back with as little fuss as possible.

We’re possibly around a quarter way through HSMTMTS given that the mains have 4 season contracts and presuming that the show is not cancelled earlier. At the very least the show will be radically different after S4 if they try to continue it as Olivia has made very clear that she’s going to leave asap to pursue her burgeoning music career full time (notably she’s only done the bare minimum of promo for S2). 

Looming over the remaining seasons of HSMTMTS is what the professional relationship between Olivia and Josh looks like especially since in many ways the show is built around Ricky and Nini. Off screen relationships have often caused on screen problems and dating a co-worker is rarely a good idea since even clean breakups leave lingering resentments. Obviously the Jolivia breakup was not clean, Driver’s License, Deja Vu, and Good 4 U (which is a certified bop) were clearly written from a place of hurt and in some ways were written to hurt. It’s no surprise that Joshua has dropped his duet with Sabrina Carpenter from his EP; someone on his team at least is trying to stop the damage to his reputation. There’s a decent chance that Olivia’s songs becoming such hits has irreparably damaged Joshua Bassett’s reputation among the same pool of largely young women that he’s targeting his music towards thereby cutting off his music career at the knees. If nothing else this behind the scenes drama should keep things entertaining for a while.

Until next week Wildcats 

[glitxhwayventeen]

Lonely Together

Jihoon: Chapter 3 (Ain’t Easy)

Characters: Jihoon x female reader

Genre/Warnings: multi-member au (different scenarios), werewolf au, fantasy, angst, fluff, potential blood mentions, genocide mentions, health issues, panic/anxiety attack. Any others will be put as warnings when future chapters are thought up/written.

Author’s Note: Sorry for how short this is. The vaccine’s really killing my body. My head his pounding from how bad my headache is so I only managed to finish the one chapter. Let’s hope tomorrow is better 🤞🏼

Please remember that all of these chapters and the content within them are a work of fiction! They’re just for fun/entertainment!

Bold= Dialogue Italics= Thoughts

🥀 & ☁️

Lonely Together Master List

Chapter 3: Ain’t Easy

You stirred awake, having been knocked out from your little outburst for almost a solid day apparently. You realized that you were now laying in Jihoon’s bed, it smelt like him. You could also see the sun beams make their way across the walls. Your apparent mate was sitting in a chair next to you, holding your small hand inside his. You fluttered your eyelids open completely, widening them hesitantly for the day.

“Oh good. You’re awake. I was getting really worried” He sighed, running his free hand through his hair and rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand fondly with the other.

“What- what happened?” You groggily asked, voice hoarse from the lack of use.

You sat up to sit upright and rubbed your eyes to awaken yourself more. You could tell you were in his room. You could smell him all over, that sweet honey smell was intoxicating to you. You could never get enough of it. You could also see you were in a bigger shirt still, though this one was different than the one you were wearing when you were awake before. It had 3/4 sleeves and was a soft cotton feeling that made you want to cuddle into your blankets and pillows to sleep again.

“Well after… everything, you go a little too overwhelmed and passed out.” Jihoon informed you, quickly pushing himself to sit on the bed next to you and rubbed your back sweetly.

You could also tell that you had been changed into a pair of sweatshorts, which you were grateful for. And given the conversation you had before you had probably passed out, there was a fairly good chance either Jihoon changed you or one of the other mates did. Though you highly doubted that Jihoon would let ANYONE else touch your naked body as your mate.

If he had known more about your love life and who you were attracted to, he may have been a little more open to someone other than him changing you. But for all he knew you were attracted to everyone in his pack. So he wasn’t about to risk it. He was a very private person and he figured from what he knew about you, you were too. Not that any of that even really mattered at this point, there was just as good a chance he would’ve refused to let anyone else touch you even if he had known about your sexuality. He could already feel his territorial wolf instincts for you getting stronger. And the more time he spent around you, the worse it got.

“Oh…” you trailed, still trying to come to terms with being suddenly so conscious after having been dreaming for such a long time.

“Does stuff like that happen often to you?” He questioned you, giving you a warm concerned smile.

He couldn’t lie, seeing you passed out made him beyond terrified. He had just confessed to you that he was your mate and then you blacked out. He was worried you’d reject him. But he was just as worried for your own health. You were small, even smaller than him, and you seemed really tired and weak all the time. What if this was something that happened to you a lot? What if he couldn’t help you get better? He didn’t like the idea of you being sick. He didn’t like the thought of having to see you unconscious from fainting. He didn’t like it at all.

“It used to happen a lot when I was younger, and only when I got scared or nervous. My tribe’s healer used to say that I was… missing part of me? Like part of my soul had been missing? Or something like that? I dont know, I don’t really remember. It was a long time ago. The passing out hasn’t happened much since I’ve been on my own though.” You told him, your head abruptly pounding at the mere mention of your health issues causing you to wince in slight pain.

“Are you okay?” Jihoon cautiously putting the back of his hand to your head, eyes full of panic.

“Y-Yeah. I’m fine. How- how long was I out?” You wondered aloud, turning your eyes to him to get a better look at him.

Truth be told, you were out for a while. Jihoon hadn’t left your bed for nearly three days now. And when he had to for bathroom or showering purposes, he had some of the mates sit with you until he could rush back. He was worried sick about you, Seungcheol had to have Soonyoung practically force feed him so he would eat. He could help it though, he knew that had it been any of his brothers with their mates, they’d have done the same thing. When your mate was sad or sick, you didn’t care about taking care of yourself. You only cared about them and their well being. It was just their natural instinct.

He hesitated for a minute before he spoke, trying his best to come up with words that might sooth you rather than worry you, “Well.. let’s just say You’ve missed a few meals…”

“How many’s a few?” You pushed him to give you a less vague answer.

“Wellllll… we just got done with lunch… so Nine in total give or take” Jihoon earnestly let out, bringing his hand to play with the small locks of your hair.

Upon hearing his answer, you nearly jumped out of the bed nearly three feet in the air. But thankfully, your mate had stopped you from moving your limbs so quickly. He didn’t want you to end up collapsing from the lack of muscle use you’ve had the past few days.

“Nine! Jesus why didn’t anyone try and get me up that’s like three whole days!?!” You almost started to hyperventilate again. Your sight was beginning to turn fuzzy. You felt your heartbeat fasten in your throat. Your mind was buzzing in thought, you couldn’t stop it.

The water on the bedside table started to shake and pull out of the glass while your state worsened. Jihoon quickly picked up on what was happening with you and grabbed you by your face gently to get you to focus on him. He didn’t want you to pass out again, but he also didn’t want you using your powers accidentally from the shock of the whole situation.

“Just breathe (Y/N) you’re gonna pass out again…” he rested his forehead on yours and continued to try and ease your heart rate and calm your anxiety.

“One in… Two out… Three in… Four out… Five in…. That’s it… Just like that.” He cooed at you, rubbing your temples lovingly before sitting you back up straight.

Your breathing finally evened out enough for your vision to return to normal. Once you felt your chest start to slow down, your brain started to cease in thought.

“You sure that doesn’t usually happen?” He joked, still clearly concerned and half serious about your current state.

You shook your head slowly from side to side in response. You were grateful he was there to comfort you, but you still had so many questions running through your head. Your thoughts were going a mile a minute again and you didn’t know what to tackle first or what was most pressing.

“…Jihoon?” You hesitantly spoke to grab his attention. He already loved the way you said his name, it was like listening to a symphony in his head and he couldn’t get enough of it.

“Yes (Y/N)?” He responded while holding your small hand in his larger one, enjoying the way it fit in his perfectly. He looked at you with eyes of such love and adoration that you began to feel nervous.

“What are we gonna do?” You looked away from the dazzling man in front of you to instead down at the both of your hands that were laying in your lap. You began to fidget with the tips of his fingers to distract yourself so you could get the burn in your cheeks to die down.

“I- I don’t know. I never thought I’d get a mate, let alone have one show up bleeding at my doorstep. But now you’re… here…” he thought aloud, confusion masking his face the entire time.

He was glad he had found you, but he definitely never even once considered that the universe would bring you to him. He never thought of himself as someone’s boyfriend let alone someone’s mate. He wasn’t sure he would be very good at it, but he knew with you there he had to try. He just needed to figure out how to be one…

You took a moment to think. He was clearly just as lost as you were. But you knew what your heart felt for him, and you knew that being mates meant one of two things.

“Well… do you even want a mate Jihoon? From what everyone says, you don’t like being close to people. And I know I work better alone. So what do you want to do?” You anxiously awaited his response.

You could practically see the gears in his head turning. On one hand, he liked being independent and preferred his solitude. But on the other hand, he knew he would already die for you if he had to choose between himself or you. So, logically, that only left him with one alternative.

“I want us to be together (Y/N). I know it’ll be… a challenge, but I also know that as long as I have you, I’ll do whatever it takes to make it work.” He finally answered, bringing his hands to cup your cheeks that were still semi-swollen from your long rest.

Tears began to form in your tired eyes, “But… how do you know it’ll all work out? What if we can’t figure out how to cohabitate. We’re both so single alone, what if we can’t be a couple?” You whimpered, eyes full of fear as you looked into his caring ones.

“I won’t lie, it ain’t gonna be easy. But together, we’ll be okay.” He assured you, moving his gaze down to your lips.

He looked back at your face, silently asking for permission. You gave him a small smile and nodded, giving him the go ahead. With that, he leaned down to press his pillowy lips to your relatively chapped ones.

He moved softly, careful not to move too fast or too far so you would stay comfortable the entire time. Kissing him felt like you could actually walk on water if you tried. He made all your worries melt away with such a simple action. It made your heart flutter in a way it never had before.

He soon pulled away from you and leaned his forehead against yours, pecking the top of your button nose gently before a large smile formed on his perfect mouth.

“I suppose you could be right…” you trailed, teasing the small wolf slightly before breaking out in small fits of giggles while you tried to hold yourself back.

“You’re gonna have to get used to that you know.” He chuckled while caressing your jawline and gazing at you like you were a piece of artwork.

“Get used to what? Kissing?” You blushed at the thought, nuzzling your face into his warm hand to hide it.

“No- Me being right.” He declared, pushing his chest out with pride causing you to really burst out in full on laughter.

You could already feel the difficult times ahead of you both, but you also knew you would do whatever it took to stay with him. He made everything around you feel safe and at home. He’s all you ever needed.

(Updated 9/6)

[djarrex]

Hi everyone, just wanted to address what happened last night along with some other things from before that all tie in together.

There’s multiple parts to the following post - please make sure you read all of it if you’re gonna take the time to even start.

It was midnight and y'all were still jumping in on anon and telling me how I'm awful for not commenting, owning up, or taking responsibility - I should have been in bed. I have a life and job outside this app; and with the several of you in my inbox and it being too late at night to address each, I’m gonna do it now. I can’t not say something about all of this. I just can’t keep quiet and ignore the problem - it’s not fair to you all. Deleting one post already has you guys even more riled up and all I wanted to do was offer something better than a “half-hearted apology” (it was very late at night when I wrote that very short apology, and wanted a redo tbh). 

I really didn't want to make a long post like this. I reached out to a select few on here because I care about them (there's more of you, but like I said, it was at the time after midnight and I was fucking exhausted). but I was being demanded for accountability. So here I am.

Allow me to be real with you all, if that's ok. If it's not, well, idk. First I wanna address all you anons, who, instead of speaking to me one on one about all this, want to criticize me and shame me and my writing when truthfully it feels like you haven't even read more than a handful of my work. I didn’t realize that I write the clones all the same way? That I always make them super aggressive and uncaring and dom? “you write every single clone as so dominant instead as unique individual men with their own personalities” Interesting. See, that right there tells me you haven't read nearly enough of my stuff for me to believe that's true. That's one accusation I absolutely will not back you on because I know it’s inaccurate - saying how I group the clones into some overly-aggressive, and uncaring category - that I always write all of them as mean in bed because they're men of color. And hey, if I do write rough smut - which yeah, it's out there and I write it, as do a lot of you - there are warnings at the beginning, aftercare, dialogue, reader sharing their feelings, and most importantly... consent between the two. That’s what warnings are for, so that you know what you’re going to be reading. That’s why I, as we all do, appreciate warnings listed at the tops of fics; honestly, write them sub or dom or switch or however you want but don’t come at me like that. I’m sorry if I'm coming across as rude because I'm usually not, I’m one of the nicest people you’ll meet, but I will not stand idly by while you chastise my writing (writing that is pretty much the same type of stuff a lot of you write & rb with the same characters) that you haven’t read enough of to back such claims.

Next: Sincerely, from the bottom of my heart,

I get it. Really, I do. I fully understand the problem of whitewashing in SW along with almost everywhere else, and I do not agree with it. It's a huge problem, and it needs to be rectified. Now just because I don't speak publicly about it and opt out of publicly shaming TBB, doesn't mean that I agree with what’s going on. Not everyone is comfortable with sharing their opinions on a subject, no matter what that subject is or which side they're on. You live and you learn when it comes to that. 

It has never been my intention to fetishize POC in my writing, which btw, the same people who are saying that it is my intention are the ones claiming I portray all of the clones as the same, aggressive men, lacking their individuality. It’s a claim that is simply not true, and I know I have followers on here to back me up on that. I know what I've written; how about you check it out and tell me that you don't see the words "soft" or "fluff" or "cuddling" or “gentle” or “tender” within my work linked in my ML. Clone character being a good partner and father? Tender love making? Holding each others faces in their hands? “We/you survived” sex? Taking care of their partner? Saying “I love you” to one another? Confirming the safe word and going slow at first? Oh my - riveting and harsh stuff - totally unacceptable.  

Now: My admittedly problematic writings of Rex + Zygerria,

I went into writing that rp fic totally unaware and unknowing of the true implications. For that, I sincerely apologize. When I posted the NSFW alphabet, that’s when I was called out on that rp fic - not when I first posted it. Which the timeline doesn’t matter, I know that, but it concerns me a little bit that no one spoke up about it sooner - letting me dig myself deeper into a hole that I didn’t realize I was inside of in the first place. I've apologized once, and I know that doesn't negate what happened; I acknowledged my mistake back then, but I suppose that wasn’t good enough. I had asked you, anon, to message me to give me guidance, to teach me on what to do about the fic - you stayed hidden. Well, respectfully, what the fuck? I know we're all adults but don't lecture me and avoid me when I’d literally reached out for guidance on how to properly rectify the issue. I fixed my wording in some of my fics (the things I’ve caught upon rereading them) because I recognized and more importantly learned about and from my mistakes along with the unintentional negative implications of how I wrote those characters. Some of y'all wanna tell me that I "haven't learned"? Who are you, my personal blog police? My professor? My life coach? Are you even my friend? If I'm wrong and haven't learned, then fucking educate me. I worked hard on that rp fic, just like I do with a majority of what I write, but it doesn’t matter because I will delete it knowing that it’s harmful to others and I apologize for inadvertently romanticizing slavery with what I wrote - it was unintentional, and I’m truly sorry to those who have been hurt by it. I know it’s wrong, and there’s no proper excuse for it. Can’t go back in time, but consider it gone now.

Since that first wakeup call, I’ve been working hard to ensure I avoid using certain words and ideas when describing the clones in my fics. If there’s still something you see that isn’t correct or is inappropriate, please tell me! Don’t hold it in but then jump on the “attack M” bandwagon. Private message me, or come peacefully off or on anon, there will be no hard feelings. I don’t mind being corrected when I make a mistake - that’s just part of life, we all make mistakes and we live and learn from them. Making mistakes doesn’t = scumbag human. When you hold your breath and choose not to take the time to guide me, and if I appear to still be making the same mistakes, well, idk. I’m telling you right now that I do not mind if you message me with the good intention of pushing me in the right direction. When you come at me with hostility on anon, well, no thank you. To the anons that came without rage: thank you! I read what you wrote, and I have a better understanding as to how my writing had hurt the lovely followers of mine, and tried to address as much as possible in this post. See, angry mob anons? It costs zero credits to be kind and offer up your thoughts and advice with a good heart. I’m not going to hate you or block you if you try to correct me. I don’t block unless you’re a snoopin’ minor. Just don’t hold a knife to my throat.

Now: Why did I delete the tags and then my response to that anon ask? 

Simply put: I felt awful. Deleting it doesn’t immediately mean I’m hiding from it and ignoring the issue. I wanted to come up with a better apology, explanation, whatever you wanna call it, because my followers deserve that. The ones who enjoy my work, the ones who interact, the ones who I call my friends, the ones who know that I’m a good person. Didn’t want to leave the tags/post floating around all night, giving more people time to sharpen their pitchforks and join the mob while I attempted to sleep. Trust me, I know saying that I had no ill intentions when tagging that post doesn’t make it better nor does it make it go away. I’m just trying to show you my point of view, that I knew immediately how I should not have tagged it that way, so that’s why I deleted them. I corrected my mistake. But y’all are too fucking quick I swear.

One more thing:

I know some of you who had called me out with the passive-aggressive inbox messages are still following me, and for what? You don’t like what I post, which is why one would follow another in the first place, so why bother sticking around? Do you feel like you need to police my blog? You want to be there the literal minute I make a mistake? I’m gonna turn off anon for a bit, so if you wanna discuss, message me. Just know that if you’re going to come at me with knives out, I probably won’t reply to you. 

To conclude:

I’m sorry. Truly sorry for the entire Rex + Zygerria outfit + slaver ordeal with both the fic from a while ago and then the tags from last night. We can’t go back in time; the only option is to correct past mistakes that are able to be corrected, and then move on with new knowledge that’ll aid in me working even harder to ensure my writing isn’t inappropriate or offensive, and doesn’t hurt my followers nor the characters I write for. I’m still going to write self-indulgent filth and fluff, post-order 66 Rex, and other misc shit. I enjoy writing fanfic, as I know a lot of you enjoy reading what I write and love to talk to me about it. I hope that this didn’t come off as me being a bitch, because I’m really not. I enjoy interacting with the handful of people on here that I’d call my friends, and I love reading your reactions and tags to my fics when you’re excited and/or horny (LOL). It’s just after lunch time where I’m at, so I hope you have a great rest of the day/night/morning whatever for wherever you are.  

<3 

M

[sushiburritonoms]

I've been having terrible writer's block lately, not enjoying anything I've written, not getting anywhere with WIPs. Poor @darkisrising and @bronze-lorica have had to talk me off edges lately (thanks guys you're the best!). I think I finally have a chapter 3 for Sacred Texts but I'm sitting on it for a while to see if that's the direction I really want to go. I'm soooo sorry for the delay.

In the meantime I was looking through my notes for The Father the Son and the Exile and I found a bunch of scenes I wrote and abandoned as the fic moved in different directions. I figured I'd post some of them because they'll never see the light of day otherwise and because I have nothing else to offer right now.

Originally in Exile, Din and Luke were supposed to make it to Tython. I had them meeting up with Han AND Leia on the planet Ajan Kloss (its the planet Luke and Leia train on in TROS). Its interesting looking back at this, Din and Luke have a different dynamic since I wrote this a long time ago back in March when the story was going in a different direction (I also wrote an homage to one of Writer Owl's fics in the dialogue). I enjoy playful Luke, I don't really write him that often and that's a real shame. Anyways here's wonder wall, enjoy!

Ajan Kloss  was a swampy humid hellhole of a planet that no rational, sentient being should visit, let alone enjoy. Of course that meant that Grogu and Luke were comfortable in the sticky humid environment. In fact there was a rare smile stretched across Luke's face and he sounded almost nostalgic as he talked around their campfire.

“There’s a certain type of moss that grows on the trees here that’s edible.”

Din refused to look up at Luke from where he was cleaning their meal.  “I’m not drinking any tea you make out of it.”

“It’s more of a garnish?”

Din sighed. “Don’t touch my fish.” He forcefully stuck a stick lengthwise through the fish as an emphasis.

“Grogu should really have more vegetation in his diet. Master Yoda used to eat plants.”

Din snorted. “You’re welcome to try.” It wasn’t like the kid never ate vegetables but they were always fried and covered in spices. That probably wasn’t what Luke was getting at.

“Maybe later. He did eat two whole frogs.”  Luke edged himself closer to the fire. “Maybe after this we could swing by Dagobah. You know, assuming we’re not about to trigger some sort of sneak attack or trap. There are tubers I could dig up for him that Master Yoda ate, plus I could pick up more gnarltree bark.”

Din blinked and raised his head up to properly look at Luke. He knew what Luke was doing. He was trying to distract himself with thoughts of the future. It was a tactic Din often used himself--strategize every possible outcome in the hopes the future won’t be as terrifying as it feels.

On the one hand, he was amused and touched by Luke’s continued fixation on Grogu’s eating habits, even if it was hypocritical of Luke given his own poor diet.  It reminded Din of some of the older members of the Covert that used to watch Din when he was little. They always used to harass him to eat everything offered to him and gave him sharp nudges when he tried to skip directly to the occasional sweet treat left out for all the foundlings to share. It was very Mandalorian of Skywalker and it felt good. Familiar.

On the other hand, Din really, really didn’t want any more tree bark in the Wayfinder. So Din didn’t really know what to say.

“Hold this.” Din shoved a fish skewer into Luke’s hand. Yeah that worked.

Luke took the skewer with a hint of a smile.  “Master Yoda used to eat certain mushrooms too, I think I can safely identify them. Or maybe I could put together an aquarium in the Wayfinder and we could take more frogs with us. I bet I can repurpose one of the smaller cloning cylinders I have in the back and add a filtration system...”

Din shuddered at the thought  of living with a cloning vat filled with frogs and the likelihood of frogs, moss and tree bark for dinner several nights a week.  Just no. “This is why our people are ancient enemies,” he shuddered. “You live like animals.”

There was silence. Too long of a silence. Din looked up.

Luke was staring at him with a shocked look on his face. “Our people are ancient enemies?” He whispered.

Ah kriff. Din winced. “So I’ve heard.”

“....Oh.”  Luke looked crushed.  “Nobody told--well. There’s a lot nobody told me,” he sighed. “About being a Jedi.”

Damn damn damn. Din wanted to throw his hands up in the sky.

“I guess that makes sense,” Luke mumbled. He was fiddling with the fish skewer in his hands. “All the other Mandalorians I’ve ever met have tried to capture or kill me. I thought it was just the Bounty…”

“I’m not like other Mandalorians.”  Din interrupted, desperate to turn the conversation. It was technically true, probably just not in a way that helped their relationship. Er--their partnership?  Their--whatever this was.

“I mean I like you…”

Din froze. What.

“You’re really good at fishing and Grogu loves you.  I’d hate to have to kill you.”

Din’s heart restarted in his chest again.  Was Luke...messing with him?   “You wouldn’t leave a mark.”

Luke blinked up at him innocently and fluttered his damn eyelashes.  “I could totally kill you in your sleep.”

The little shit!  “I’ll poison your tea.”

“It’s pretty much already poison. I’m immune.”

Heh, true.  “Your fish then.”

“I’ll just go grab a frog.”

“You’re staying here and eating my damn fish!”

Luke burst out into sudden loud laughter.  It was like a sudden fierce rainstorm in the way it showered over the camp. It startled Grogu, who had been ignoring both of them in favor of playing with some shiny rocks nearby.  He tilted his head and then matched Luke’s laughter with a baby chuckle of his own.

“Sorry! I think it's just my nerves talking but that just sounded wrong and so funny--”

Din just shook his head. He couldn’t for the life of him figure out what had set Luke off but he didn’t care. “Crazy Jedi.”

“Trigger happy Mandalorian.”  Luke gave him a giant smile.  “Hurry up and finish this.” He gave Din back the fish skewer and chuckled again.  Despite his comment about his nerves, Luke’s shoulders were relaxed and his legs were spread out comfortably by the fire. Din could stare at his lopsided smile all evening, especially as the sun set and the fire highlighted the delight in his eyes. The sun shone through the lighter parts of Luke’s shaggy long hair. It was now untied from the neat bun it had started in and looked soft and golden in the light.

Stars above help him.  Luke was beautiful.  Din was tired of denying the thought. He wanted to touch Luke’s face with his bare hands, run his fingers through his hair and that was terrifying. He hadn’t wanted to take off his armor for anyone, besides Grogu, in ages. Maybe with Omera...but this was much different. The feelings he’d had for her were a momentary weakness compared to the colossally bad idea this was to develop an attraction for this damaged Jedi.  Din had no idea what tomorrow was going to bring.  Even if nothing happened, there was the uncertainty of the next day and the next to worry about. Luke was a marked man and every day there was a chance something could take him out. Take him away. The thought burned in him like a chemical fire inside a reactor.  Caged deep inside of him, destructive it released, and burning with an intensity greater than Din could stand.

This was why he never got involved with people before he found Grogu. He didn’t know what to do with the intensity of his feelings and how to fit them into his unpredictable life.

“Din?” Luke’s smile fell slightly. “You ok?”

“..Yeah.”  Din did what he always did. He pushed his feelings away and tried to focus on the present.  What had they been talking about? Food. He sat and thought for a moment. Maybe...

“I have a contact on Tatooine, from a rural town few people have heard of. Mos Epsa.”

“Mos Eps--I thought that was wiped from the planet years ago.” Luke looked impressed.

“It’s still there.”  Din handed Luke a cooked fish skewer and settled back with his own. “We could go there, for a while. We’d be safe. I’m assuming we can both eat Tatooine food.”

Luke picked at his fish. “I do miss blue milk.”

Good.  “I’ll add it to the list.”

Luke chuckled. “You have a list?”

“Of safe planets we can stop at. We should have alternatives to the drop pods and not be reliant on the New Republic. My list is probably different from yours so we have more options.” Din stabbed his fish a little harder with his skewer to make his opinion of Luke’s employers known.

The smile on Luke’s face got impossibly wider. “That makes sense...Thank you.”

Din grunted. The smile on Luke’s face was too distracting.  Instead he looked down at his food. Oh. Right. Damn.

Luke made the exact realization at the same time. “Sorry! I forgot, I can go back to the ship--”

“Shut up and sit down, Jetti.” Din shook his head. He only hesitated for a half second before he reached up to his helmet and unlatched it. He opened it wide enough to take a bite.

“Or you could do that. Of course.” Luke babbled.  He turned his head so he wasn’t looking at Din.  Which was sweet. But also meant he wasn’t looking at his food.

“Eat.” Din growled. “All of it.” How was it this hard to feed a grown adult? Grogu gave him less trouble. Gods help Skywalker, Din was about to channel some of the fiercest warriors he knew to get him to eat more.

Luke gave him a mock solute. “Yes sir.”

Din began to reach for his sidearm.

Luke responded with a rather unnecessarily dainty bite of fish.

Din began to unhook his blaster.

Luke nibbled at one edge of a fin.

The blaster powered up.

Luke kriffing licked his fish.

“That’s disgusting.” Din gave up. He couldn’t help it--he chuckled as he powered down his blaster.

“Yeah it is,” Luke stuck his tongue out. “Fish is gross.”

“I thought you said you’d eat anything.”

“I do. I don’t have to like it.  I didn’t grow up eating fish, it’s both slimy and spikey at the same time.”

“You eat frogs.”

“You can eat a small frog in one bite! I’ve gotten fish bones stuck in my throat.”

“You’re not supposed to eat the bones.”

“Nobody told me that the first time. What part of ‘raised on a desert planet’ does no one understand?”

“You’re an idiot.”

Luke sat back. “I’m done now, mom. May I go now?”

Din sighed. “No.” He held out another fish skewer.

“You got to be kidding me.”

“We can do this the easy way or the hard way.”

“How hard is the har--YIKES! NO! LETGO! ARGHHH!!!!!”

‘Yup’, Din thought to himself as he held the struggling, still too skinny, Jedi in a headlock.  He had it bad and he was going to regret this.

Tomorrow. He’ll regret it tomorrow.

“DJARIN LET ME GO NOW OR YOU’RE GOING IN THE SWAMP!”

Here’s hoping the desert boy could swim.

[picnokinesis]

fic writer review

tagged by the wonderful @swinging-stars-from-satellites whoop!! Let’s go!

1. How many works do you have on Ao3?

Fourteen! It was thirteen until yesterday, which appealed to me a lot, but I decided that posting pirate!thoschei was worth changing that number hahaha

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count?

394,102

3. How many fandoms have you written for?

Technically five, because I’m not counting Avengers and MCU as two different fandoms hahaha. But they are: Doctor Who (2005), MCU, Stargate Universe, The Greatest Showman, and X-Men (comics) - the latter, though, wasn’t really for that fandom, because I was writing a TGS X-Men au hahaa

4. Top 5 fics by kudos?

Liminality , with 195 kudos - I am not surprised about this one, since it’s probably the most ‘readable’ of my fics, being a oneshot, not shippy, and also not being stupidly long haha!

Renegades in the Ring , with 144 kudos - I didn’t realise how much kudos this one got? I guess it helped that the fandom was very active when I first posted this. Alas, if only I had finished this one...I have a lot of nostalgia for the idea, but I don’t think I’ll ever return to it, simply because it would take about as much effort as campervan au is taking me right now. 

i need a place to hide (before the storm begins) , with 125 kudos - which I am genuinely SO happy about because ahh! This is my big project and to know that 125 people said ‘yes this is good’ is just...really really nice?? Especially when it’s such a niche, specific au.

Tropospheric Disturbance , with 125 kudos - honestly, I’m surprised this one has as many kudos as it does, since I regularly forget I even wrote it hah! It’s a weird one, because it’s not actually in my usual writing style, but I am very proud of it!

and they did live by watchfires , with 109 kudos - and I’m really really happy to see this one here, because I think this is probably the favourite thing of my own that I’ve written. 

5. Do you respond to comments? Why/why not?

YES absolutely!! I love comments so much, and I really love to ramble about my stories because I almost always have a LOT of thoughts hahaha

6. A fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

I mean, it’s probably a toss up between i need a place to hide (because I ended it on that twist/cliffhanger), Retrograde (which is another cliffhanger ending, leaving all the characters in a REALLY BAD situation), or maybe the new problem kid, you’ll taste all the salt in my lungs, because, uh, it basically ends with the Doctor saying ‘the person I was before this moment is dead’ HAHAHA. But, to be honest, I don’t know if I would call any of those endings VERY angsty? They’re more like ‘AHHH WHAT HAPPENS NEXT’ endings rather than angst. I don’t tend to write angsty endings because I love angst but I always prefer to end it on a hopeful note...otherwise it feels very unsatisfying for me to write, personally. 

7. Do you write crossovers?

Technically? I mean, I see Renegades as an au more than a crossover, because it’s merely set in the same universe as the X-Men comics, and the only crossover element is Nathaniel Essex being in it...and I never even wrote those scenes hahaha

8. Ever received hate on a fic?

Nah, people are wonderful!

9. Do you write smut?

Since I’m sex-repulsed, this is a hard no HAHA

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not as far as I know!

11. Ever had a fic translated?

I have not

12. Have you ever co-written a fic?

Me and @sunshinedaysforever have a collab-wip graveyard in our dms HAHA - but I am actually working on cowriting a fic with some other wonderful folks at the moment! I am. Supposed to have my part finished by the 6th. Hm. 

13. All time fav ship?

Right now, it’s thoschei/spydoc, but I wouldn’t necessarily say that’s my all time favourite, because my favourite changes a lot. I do have a HUGE amount of love for Clintasha and Rush/Young though! 

14. WIP you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Hmmmmm, there’s a few. I mean, at the moment, I feel like The Grandfather Paradox will NEVER get finished, but I like to think that if I’m still into Doctor Who enough when I finally finish campervan, I might take a crack at it? Grandfather Paradox is more solid atm than some of my other wips...(see: deathless, disarmed). Oh, I know which one I almost certainly won’t finish - this one I came up with waaay back before In the Wind, which is set between O55 and Telsa, which is about telepathy and not listening to warnings from the past, amongst other things.

15. Writing strengths?

I’ve been informed that I’m really good at character voices, and I also think that I’m quite good at expanding characters we see very little of and fleshing them out a lot more. I’ve had to do that a lot for campervan and it’s been really good fun!

16. Writing weaknesses?

I think I can get kinda tangled in the emotional plot lines sometimes, and it makes everything get convoluted and messy and hard to follow? Also I’m not very good at...taking a good metaphor and expanding it? If that makes sense. I’m also actually kind of terrible at subtle, clever foreshadowing because half the time I don’t know what’s happening HAHAHAHAH but sometimes I do manage it!! I’m trying to do it in campervan at the moment. Also I. Can’t write short things HAHA. My characters always think and talk a LOT and sometimes that’s good, sometimes not so much

17. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in a fic?

I’m actually doing it currently in part 5 of campervan, since Gabriela and Jamila both speak portuguese (and I’m learning portuguese!)

18. First fandom you wrote for?

On ao3? Stargate Universe. On the internet? The Avengers. Ever? Uh. I honestly don’t know. I made up ocs based on two unicorns in the aftercredits sequence of a My Little Pony VHS tape, does that count?

19. What’s your fav fic you’ve written so far?

I mentioned it earlier, but I’m extremely proud of and emotionally attached to and they did live by watchfires

If anyone wants my ao3, it’s right over here!

And oh, who to tag!! No pressure, of course, but: @sunshinedaysforever @theplatinthehat @taardisblue @hetzi-art @krebkrebkreb @echo84 @theoreticalabsurdity @1-of-those-things @walker-lister @timelostdoctor and anyone else who wants to!

[depressing-debbie]

A Latte For Erwin Pt. 2

Summary: So now Levi’s got Erwin’s number, and Hange’s involved... what could possibly go wrong? 1.7k

PART 1    PART 3

Guys I’m having so much fun with this story, I hope y’all enjoy it <3 This chapter is DIALOGUE CENTRAL so that’s something I guess

Did I leave this potentially open for a part three? Yes. Yes I did 👀 Did I also write this instead of stretching before rehearsal and end up getting hurt a teensy bit? Also yes. :)

“So are you going to call him?” 

A day had passed since a certain customer left Levi his number, and the paper was still sitting on the counter, untouched. 

“No.” Levi and Hange were sitting at one of the tables in the front, counting out whatever had been emptied from the cash register and scribbling onto a notepad. 

Hange eyed him suspiciously. “So, then you aren’t interested in him. You didn’t enjoy talking to him.”

“No, I didn’t say that...” Hange’s eyes lit up, nearly jumping out of their chair.

“SO THEN YOU’RE GOING TO CALL HIM!” Levi glared up at them.

“No.” Hange slumped into their chair and threw their hands up in exasperation.

“Why not?” Levi paused for a split second to consider his response.

“I’m just not going to. He’s just a customer, and I’m just a guy who makes coffee. I know nothing about him, he knows nothing about me.” He finished his task and began gathering everything up, and Hange followed him back towards the counter, frowning.

“Levi. That’s what a first date is for. Go get to know him! Give him a chance!”

He eyed the slip of paper, the ten little neatly written numbers and message, and grabbed it. Hange cheered silently, before realizing he was walking towards the trash. He opened the lid and tossed it into the garbage. 

“No.”

“Levi-”

“Hange! Leave it alone.” Levi ignored Hange’s eyes following him as he went to grab his coat and headed towards the front of the store. “I’m off tomorrow, don’t forget, so please don’t call me unless it’s important.” Hange nodded. “See you Monday.”

The next morning, Levi was awoken by none other than a call from Hange. 

“Hange I swear to god, this had better be an emergency.”

“I knowww, I’m sorry, some guy from the government left a message saying there was an issue with our permits, and you’ve got all the papers. Can you bring them over here?” Levi groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Yeah, I’ll be right there.” 

“THANK YOU LEVI! Oh, and make sure you look presentable! Bye!”

“Make sure I... what-” Before he could question it, they hung up on him. Oh well. Wasn’t the first time they’d said something strange, and it wouldn’t be the last.

Half an hour later, Levi was trudging through the door with an enormous stack of files and paperwork. Before he even got halfway through the door, he realized something was off.

“Hello?” 

“Oh, Levi, hello!” Erwin was standing by the counter, fiddling with something in his pocket.

“Back again so soon? The coffee must have just been that good. What can I get you, another latte?” Levi set down the papers and ducked behind the counter.

“Well the coffee certainly was terrific, but that’s not why I’m here.” Erwin laughed slightly.

“So... tea? A muffin?” Levi stared at him, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

“No, no, that’s alright.” Now Levi was totally lost, and Erwin clearly picked up on it. “Well, I was planning on us getting something to eat later, but I suppose if you’d rather we eat now...” 

“Later?”

“Yes! I have reservations for our date-”

“DATE?” Levi nearly dropped the cup in his hands. Erwin looked at him with a confused smile.

“We planned it last night, Levi. Oh, I’m so sorry, did you not intend for it to be a date? I must have misread something, I apologize-”

“Erwin, what are you even talking about? We never... planned anything?” 

“I’m sure we did? You texted me last night, and-” It suddenly hit Levi exactly what was happening.

“HANGE. GET OUT HERE.” Levi spun around to face the back room and shouted. Slowly, Hange ducked around the corner and became visible, their expression both embarrassed and apologetic. “What the hell did you do, shitty glasses?”

“Okay, okay, calm down, Levi. All I did was grab Erwin’s number after you left and reach out to him for you. It’s not like I had a choice, you certainly weren’t going to!” Hange explained nervously. A bit of an awkward silence fell when they realized Erwin now knew Levi had no intention of calling, but it was quickly broken.

“So I take it the permit emergency was a lie as well.” Levi locked eyes with Hange and glared as they nodded, staring at their feet. “Great.” He turned to face Erwin, and the discomfort in the room was tangible. “Sorry, Erwin, but I’m just going home. It’s my day off, and now that I know our business isn’t in peril, I’d like to return home.” 

Erwin nodded understandingly. “Of course, Levi. I’m sorry you had to be dragged out here, have a nice day.” He smiled, and picked up the umbrella resting by the counter.

Levi eyed the umbrella before realizing it was absolutely pouring raining, he must have been too distracted to notice. He cursed himself for forgetting to check the weather when hastily getting ready that morning.

Erwin noticed his frustration. “You aren’t planning on walking back with all that paperwork without an umbrella, are you?”

Levi let out a sigh. “Yes, actually, I suppose I am. Not like I can leave it all here, Hange has a knack for losing any documents that I leave in their possession.” Hange nodded sheepishly in agreement. 

“That’s a terrible idea, it’ll all be soaked by the time you get home. Let me walk you back, I’ve got this giant umbrella here.” Erwin caught his eye, and Levi noticed his face burning.

“No, no, that’s not necessary-”

“Nonsense. Consider it an apology for making you walk all the way out here.” He smiled, and Levi thought about it for a moment. One awkward walk home would certainly be preferable to hours spent on the phone to replace all of the permit documents.

“Alright. I appreciate it.” Levi picked the stack of papers back up, and the two moved towards the door. As he glanced back, Levi caught Hange smirking at him and mouthed a silent “shut up”. Erwin opened the door for Levi, who mumbled a thank you, and they left. It’s probably a good thing he didn’t turn around and see Hange dancing around in victory.

Levi and Erwin walked the first two blocks in silence, huddled under the umbrella. Eventually, Erwin cleared his throat and broke the silence.

“So, I guess it wasn’t you I was speaking to yesterday. On the phone, I mean.”

“No, that would be Hange. That lunatic.” Levi rolled his eyes, still fuming.

“To be honest, I’m a bit glad it wasn’t you.” Levi looked up at him, intrigued. “I usually don’t make it a habit to leave my phone number for people who use that many emojis. And you certainly didn’t strike me as an emoji kind of guy, Levi.” He laughed, and Levi could picture exactly what Hange had sounded like, since he has plenty of experience with their chaotic messaging.

“Rest assured, you won’t be getting any emojis from me.” 

Erwin smiled. “I’m glad to hear it.” They fall back into an uncomfortable silence, and once again, it was Erwin who broke it. “So, how long have you had that shop?”

“A few years. Hange and I started it together.” Levi considered elaborating further, but decided against it. “What about you, what do you do?”

“I’m a professor. I teach anthropology at the university a little ways away. That’s where I heard about your shop, actually, from some colleagues!” Erwin grinned. “I almost didn’t take the suggestion, but I’m glad I did.” Once again, Levi caught his face burning slightly, and he turned to face away from him.

“So then you live in the area?” Levi cleared his throat a bit, still refusing to make eye contact.

“Well... not really. I’m on the other side of town, closer to the university.” Now Levi spun around the face him, stopping in his tracks.

“Erwin. My house is in the complete opposite direction of the university. You’re gonna have to walk for an hour to get back.” Erwin rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

“That’s alright. I’m due for a good walk anyways. Too much desk work lately.” Even as Erwin reassured him, Levi shot him a doubtful look. 

“Alright... my house is just down here.” Levi pointed in front of them at the small, well kept home a block away. Erwin smiled to himself as he thought about how the house seemed to match him so well. Levi caught him, but decided not to say anything about it. 

He went to fish his keys from his coat pocket as they reached the gate, and nearly dropped his entire stack of papers. Erwin caught them, holding onto them while he opened the lock.

“Erwin. Thank you for walking me home, I appreciate it. Sorry about Hange.” Levi went to take the papers back when they reached the covered porch, safe from the rain.

“Not a problem, Levi. I’m glad I could help you stay dry. I better get going.” Erwin handed him the last document and turned to leave, quickly shaking out the umbrella. Just as he went to step off the porch, lightning struck eerily close, followed by a boom of thunder and an even heavier bout of rain. It was obvious that a messy storm was brewing.

Erwin didn’t even hesitate in continuing forward, but Levi held out a hand to stop him. The hand landed on Erwin’s shoulder, and they both froze for a moment before Levi pulled himself back together.

“You can’t walk an hour in this weather... here, just come inside until it’s cleared up a bit.” Erwin turned to face him, hesitant but grateful.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to inconvenience you.”

Levi rolled his eyes. “You getting struck by lightning would be an inconvenience.” Erwin laughed, and he opened the door. “Now, come on, before the wind picks up.”

Erwin nodded in appreciation, shaking out his umbrella and setting it down on the porch before following Levi inside.

[glassesandkim]

I would like to say my piece here about schmico, grey’s anatomy, and the fandom and it’s really for my own self-indulgence and benefit. I’m not asking for you to agree with me or even begin to understand what I’m going on about. I don’t even think half the things that I think about for this fandom exists on an important level. I fully believe in just ~vibin’~ to your own tune when it comes to participating in fandom spaces.

so this post is gonna be my way of getting stuff off my chest so i can continue to ~vibe~

First thing I’d like to address is: I know. I know the Nico Kim that I love and adore is not the Nico Kim in canon. He is who I hope he is in canon. But there’s not much to combat or support that he is or isn’t. He really could be who we’ve made up in fanon for him and at the same time, he really couldn’t. Grey’s created this character that is as blank as a dried piece of toast. So forgive me if I spread a bit of spicy jam here and there so I can swallow this bland shit down a little easier. 

So when people come to me to say, “Y’all are delulu and out of your mind to love this guy this much.” PLEASE, I know. This isn’t news, honey. I am well aware.

But I will continue to justify, romanticize, and put this boy on a pedestal for as long as his existence in canon continues to remain arbitrary and vague. And it makes me very biased to a fault but I have put too much time and energy into this character NOT to be. 

And then you might ask, why have I put so much of my time and life (THREE YEARS!!!! I’VE BEEN IN THIS FANDOM FOR THREE YEARS!!!!!!!!!!) into this character that has all but said maybe like a PAGE of dialogue at most? 

Because I was conned into it. Because they marketed the shit out of him when Alex Landi got the part. And I, as a casual viewer of Grey’s since I was in high school (I’m in my late 20s now, dawg) and of Asian descent was promised representation. Not just Asian rep, but queer rep. 

So naturally, I got extremely attached. It's not everyday a major Western mainstream prime time medical drama chooses to create a character as unique as Nico's. 

I spent so much time here. I was here when fandom decided Nico would call Levi “babe”. I was here when we all clowned that Nico didn’t know Levi’s first name. I was here when Josh died and the fandom went up in arms with pitchforks and stakes against Nico. I was here for all of it. I've seen it all. 

And unfortunately, seeing it all, makes me tired. Grey’s is time and time again proving to me that they don’t give a shit about the development and well-being of their existing characters at all. The show only cares about collecting diversity points and performing their wokeness to the general masses. (I talk a lot about how grey's is plot-driven vs. character-driven.) 

I will still get frustrated and annoyed at Nico’s lack of character development. But I mostly just laugh at the fandom nowadays. I know you guys want to fight the fight, tell everyone Nico is not toxic!!!!!! But bros, friends, lovers, it’s a tried and tired fight. 

Grey’s wants us to think Nico is a Bad Boyfriend. It’s as clear as the stench one comes across when they step on dog shit. That’s why I think it’s useless to fight people about Nico. Grey’s gets amnesia all the time. Grey’s forgot the whole season and half they invested in creating a loving boyfriend for Levi and up and changed Nico’s personality to fit a new narrative (that they, quite frankly, failed to even follow through because of covid and other filming hoopla hula hoops they’ve had to jump through that I’ve been informed of and which I simply don’t care for). 

So all this ~schmico is endgame!!! we deserve it!!!~ Binches, I have better things to fight for than schmico endgame. What’s the alternative? Levi lives in Jo’s closet forever? They’re going to be together in the end no matter what. Nobody on that show cares enough about Nico OR Levi to set up new relationships and stories for them. So don’t fret, my friends. They’ll be together in the end. It just comes down to the question of what stupid story they’re going to come up with for them to be together. (And might I argue that they already are together???) 

Speaking of the bogus story they’re going to write for schmico: you bet my rice eating, Chinese-speaking ass, that it’s not going to be a story written from a queer and poc perspective. It’s going to be some gag-worthy straight het story but made gay. (How many times do I have to hear, "I hope Nico comes out to his parents!!" NO, HE DOESN'T! Do you know how VIOLENT coming out is sometimes?? It's not a solution to Nico's problems with Levi. It's an introduction and invitation to problems over being queer -- but why would I expect anyone, let alone Grey's, to understand that prepetuating these types of stories is inherently damaging to queer people? They wouldn't know. The cishet fandom wouldn't know. Because no one is writing grey's in a queer, poc centric way.)

Which drives me to the next point: you know why Nico doesn’t get character development even though he showed up at the same time as Link? Because of ✨racism ✨. Because Link is a more conventional character (read: white) that is easier to write because nobody on this show knows how to write an Asian character anymore, let alone a gay Asian character. So of course, nobody wants to touch that shit even with a pogo stick. (Argue with me that Cristina exists and I will tell you, yes she did, but they RARELY touched upon her cultural and ethnic background. Also it was the early 2000s. Cristina was as ground breaking as it got for us Asians back then.)

And then because Nico isn’t developed enough, we have the weird phenomenon of people shipping everyone and their dog with Levi and it’s like, y’all know you got played by the racism game, right? You are hostages to this system that has taught you that white men are more desirable and deserving of story and humanity than a poc character who is instead, reduced to nothing but sex appeal and if he’s not doing well on that front, then he’s useless.

How many times does Levi say: Nico is so hot! Sex with Nico is so good! He’s a roman statue!

All!! the!! time!! Nico's worth to Levi’s character is to be the sex object that Sets Him Free. 

Which plays into the sexualization of Asian people which all comes from, you guessed it! Racism! (Levi really compared Nico to a fucking lifeless slab of stone.)

(Side note: I do think talking about how racism plays into Nico’s character and the fandom space is important and probably a separate post. I’m happy to write my opinion piece on it if it’s something people want.) 

But anyway, those are just some of my qualms with schmico, grey’s anatomy, and the fandom. I do not expect anyone to fully agree with me and I’m not asking the fandom to change or apologize or whatever. I’m just already grateful if you took the time to even read this post. 

I’ll leave with some parting advice: fandom is what you make of it. We won’t all agree with everyone’s hot takes, but that’s the beauty of it, yeah? So I chose to create this version of Nico Kim that brings me IMMENSE joy. Like, A LOT!!! I love this fandom for these reasons. I’m grateful everyday for the friends I’ve made and the works and creations I’ve created and I’m honoured to be able to consume other works made by fellow fans. 

I might hate a lot of things about grey’s and schmico, but I really owe a lot of myself to this fandom. 

[petals42]

hello! whenever you get a chance, i'd love to hear your thoughts/advice on attempting longfic and following through on longfic. hope you're having a great day!

Hello! Of course, I’d be happy to offer my advice, such as it is.

1. Don’t think of it as writing longfic.

You can really psych yourself out if you declare that you are setting out to write a longfic or even if you are setting a goal of trying to hit a certain word count (or range of words). Just tell yourself you are going to write the story you want to write; write the words you need to tell the story. Every longfic I’ve written has lowkey been an accident; otherwise I freak myself out and don’t write them. Also not worrying about word count avoids falling into the trap of unnaturally “stretching out” scenes or adding unncessary scenes that will actually only slow down/hurt your story in the long run.

2. Write chronologically.

This might just be me, but it is one of my golden rules. Usually the scenes I really want to get to are in the middle/towards the end (aka like... the climax). If I skipped ahead and wrote them, there’s no way all the harder opening scenes would get done. So I am very strict with myself. Sometimes I will write like a line of dialogue that comes later if I really don’t want to forget it, but I try not to. And I find it easier to weave in foreshadowing and realistic character development if I’m writing in order.

3. Keep track of scenes you want to write so you don’t forget them.

This is going to be very based on your preferences; I am not a planner or outliner. But I do generally have a bullet point list of scenes that need to happen in a rough order. I sometimes do not actually follow it and scenes usually get added (a lot of scenes get added tbh. like HUGE chunks of my fics are just on the fly ideas, you would not believe) but it’s helpful to know where you are going. (If you are someone who likes to outline and plan, let me know. Some writers have done amazing how-to-outline posts. I just am not organized. Even the one outline I have is just rough bullet points that rarely gets followed).

4. Stop writing mid-scene instead of at the end of scenes. 

This helps me get back into it the next day/next time I have an opportunity to write. At times I’ve even gone midsentence if I am pretty sure I will remember how that sentence is supposed to end. 

5. When you start writing, re-read at least a chunk of what you wrote the day before.

Like #4, it just helps me get back in the mood.

6. Go ahead, post that WIP.

I know some authors do not want to do this and some readers hate this, but I like to start posting WIPs when I am about 3-4 chapters ahead. Like I will post Chapter 1, when I am writing Chapter 4. Since I tend towards longer chapters (7-10k), this is a decent chunk. For me, that is a big enough buffer that I won’t feel pressured to write and I should be able to update roughly once a week, but I will (hopefully) get the encouragement and excitement from kudos/comments to get me through some of the slog of a longfic. And, hey, if life happens and you don’t finish it, you still gave them half a great fic. No pressure either way.

7. Stop reading fic - use that time for writing! Also, it’s bad for your confidence.

I have to cut myself off from reading fic when I’m writing especially fic that is in the same fandom. I literally just fell into this trap. I wrote 2k of an old guard fic in a setting, decided to give myself a break to read some fic, and then I was like “ah shit this is good I don’t need to write mine urgh mine cannot live up to this. i hate it and don’t even know where i was going” and I literally have not written since. All because I broke my own rule! Don’t do it! Just stay away from the fandom you are writing in!

8. Take your time and have fun, but be consistent.

This, again, may just be me. But if I’m going to do a longer fic, I have to commit. Generally, my fics stall out if I’m going more than 7 days between writing sessions. At that point, it’s a sign the story isn’t on my mind that much and that makes every writing session harder to get back in that mindset. Obviously, life happens, but if you find yourself going weeks between writing at all, it’s going to be harder. See what you can do to make a system where you writing (at least a little) as often as possible.

9. Be chill with smaller writing sessions.

You don’t have to write an entire scene or chapter in a day! It’s still a win if you can sneak on before bed and add at least a few lines. I am literally trying to reteach myself this rule right now because I’m putting too much pressure on myself to write big chunks and thus “only bothering” to start writing when I know I have an hour or two to do so and I need to stop! So putting this on for you, but also for me.

Well, I was going to try to get to an even ten, but this is all I got. Also, thank you for sending me this ask. Not only is it an honor to be asked, but as I am starting to try to write a fic that I think will be longer for the first time in a while, these were pieces of advice that I really needed to remind myself!

Hope you have a good one! :)

[fandom-star]

Writer’s Tag

@its-all-ineffable tagged me to do this, but it’s a long one so I’m doing it in a different post! Thank you very much! I love doing these so much!

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How many works do you have on AO3?

164 (possibly 165 by the weekend if I post the Witcher one I finished the other day)

What's your total AO3 word count?

181468

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

It’s Okay (Merlin: Merthur) - 569 Kudos Pulchra (Night At The Museum: Jedtavius) [NSFW] - 286 Kudos A Father’s Wisdom (Merlin: Merthur: Uther-centric) - 270 Kudos Crush (MCU Spider-Man: PeterNed) - 262 Kudos Comfort Blankets For Sleepy Gods (MCU Loki Series: Lokius) - 245

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Sometimes. I try to if I’m not in a non-social mood. Mostly, if I start off on my page before reading any fic and see that I have something in my inbox and it turns out to be a comment on my fic, then I’m more likely to reply to it. Idk why it works like that. Otherwise, it’s kinda touch and go whether or not I’ll reply to something, you’ve got a 50/50 chance, but I always read and appreciate every one that I get.

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

*Looks at my abundance of angst fics* There’s... a surprising amount of angst without happy endings in my repertoire. Um. I’ll give you three that I vividly remember. (All of these are Star Trek and Spones) Written In The Stars - This is one of my really early works, and was gonna have a sequel that made it have a less angsty ending, but I could never get into the rhythm of writing it. I won’t spoil it, but this is probably the only fic I’ve written where Sarek is a straight-up dick. Battlefield - As the title suggests, there’s war with no real context. And major character death. It’s sad. I genuinely made people cry with this. I am both proud and apologetic of that. Unreal - This is probably one of my more complex concepts, and I’m really proud of it. Features ooc Spock with contextual reasons I won’t spoil, defensive/protective McCoy and major character death of a sort.

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending

This is kind of difficult, bc while I have excessively written angsty endings (see: above answer) I do usually write happy endings, and I can’t remember all 160 fic endings left over, and even then it’s difficult to rank them by happiest. I like Nutcase {Murdoch Mysteries: Watts-centric) a lot, oh and also Blame It On Me (Star Trek Pricard: Hughnor) which is angst with a happy ending (and has amazing art accompanying it). There are many others with happy endings, but like I said I have no idea how to rank them by “happiest”.

Do you write crossovers? If so, What is the craziest one you’ve ever written?

I don’t really, but I have written one as a request that I really really enjoyed. A Good Day is ThorBruce and is set in the DS9 era of Star Trek, in which Thor is a captain and Bruce is his chief science officer. It’s really adorable and features sleepy, over-worked Bruce and a very characteristically happy Thor.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

No, I don’t think so, unless you count unsolicited advice I felt I couldn’t turn down on ff.net when I was struggling to write Uhura. I’m kind of surprised I haven’t tbh (not that I’m complaining) since I do write for some very popular fandoms and ships (although, conversely, also some very niche fandoms and ships).

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

I write it but have only ever posted it thee, four times if you count the exploratory one I posted under a pseudonym that wasn’t really that smutty. I’m hoping to get the confidence up to post some of what I’ve written tho, bc I do really like hat I’ve managed to do with some of it.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not as far as I’m aware.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes, I have! A lovely person found my fic 1967, which is probably one of my favourite Spones fics I’ve written, based around the UK’s decriminalisation (well, partial) of homosexuality, and traslated it into Hungarian here. I’ve not been able to check it out, due to not knowing a thing in the language (tho I could probably ask my friend to) but the translator seemed really lovely, so I trust them to have done a good job.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not something I posted, but before I even started posting fanfic, me and my best friend really randomly started writing a Star Trek TNG x Star Wars crossover whenever they were at my house. We gave up on it after about a year and never wrote much for it, but it was... it was something.

What’s your all-time favourite ship?

This changes all the time with my hyperfixations! One that will always be in my heart is obviously Spones, my og ship and within my special interest. Currently I’m obsessed with The Witcher so I’ve got Geraskier on the mind but who knows when that might change!

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

In terms of fanfic I don’t really have any that I don’t think I’ll ever finish. I have an original script that I started writing months ago but only got about three scenes into and haven’t touched since bc I don’t actually have a plot for it.

What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue; Is situations one? That sounds like a good and fancy way of saying AUs; Finding synonyms should be one, that’s like half my search history

What are your writing weaknesses?

Description; Despite my talent of finding synonyms I feel like I do repeat words a lot; Planning and outlining, I just don’t do it - it works for me tho.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I’m pretty sure the only times I’ve really done it is for Jedtavius (having Oct speak in Latin occasionally) and I might have done it once or twice with Spock speaking Vulcan, both times it’s mostly terms of endearment or Oct wanting to be romantic. Idk, I don’t really care about reading dialogue in other languages as long as there’s a translation somewhere in the work or I can easily pick it up or search it. Just do whatever, it’s your writing. As long as you do it well and it makes contextual sense, I don’t really care.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Unposted: Star Trek: The Next Gen Posted: Sherlock (I actually recently reread my first ever posted fic, it’s a long haul (just over 45k), but if anyone ever wants to see a work where my writing visibly improves lemme know and I’ll email the pdf to you)

What’s your favourite fic you’ve written?

Why would you do this to me??? I love most of my fics!!! I’m just gonna link a few here cause I’ve been doing this for an hour now and it would definitely take me an hour to choose just one! The Relationship Series - modern AU, autistic Spock (written by a self-projecting autistic writer), there’s angst spattered about but is especially prominent in part 6, I just really love this series Promises You Can’t Keep - Loki spoilers, I love this bc it’s based on “what if my finale theory was right instead of being debunked three minutes into the episode”, definitely angst with a hopeful ending I love all of my Charite At War fics, but I’m gonna link my 20 years post-canon fic Grow Old With Me and my modern AU You Give Me Your Light - both have some heavy topics (post-canon is set in 1960s East Germany, modern AU topics are tagged) but I adore both with my entire heart You’ll Never Burn - Merlin/Merthur, again kinda heavy (not as heavy as the Charite ones in my opinion) but short and everything is tagged I love all of my Babylon 5 fics but Secret Rendezvous will always have a special place in my heart. It’s very sweet and essentially follows Vir and Lennier trying to navigate coming out about their relationship to their ambassadors I also recommend all the of the fics I’ve already linked in the post ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Now for the hard part - tagging!

@esperata @tallysgreatestfan @iwritesometimes @marlinspirkhall and any other writer mutuals I’ve likely forgotten but I’ve already spent WAY too long writing this post asfdhdskjdgha So I apologise, but if you wanna do it, absolutely go for it, this was so much fun and really made me realise how much I’ve achieved in 4.5 years.

[horistans]

Please explain the detective au to us!!! I can’t read Japanese!!!! Thank you!! :)

Alright!! I'll Do My Best! I’ll be translating all the tweets released so far (from Nov. 20-26), but I��m not that fluent, so please be patient with me >.<;; I’ll also be taking some liberties to make it easier to understand in English so these won’t be direct translations. There may be multiple translations, so I welcome anyone else to also try to translate this! Mikoshiba also tweets in very casual speech, with lots of slang, so it’s possible I don’t properly translate some things.

To start, on Nov. 20, 2020, the Mikoshiba twitter surprised everyone by tweeting the following!

Nozaki told me to advertise our company on Twitter. I wonder there’ll be any effect from advertising like this is.

Well, I guess I’ll start next week, so look forward to it!

Employee Mikoshiba 

The same day, Mikoshiba tweeted a photo:

The photo was tweeted with the text:

For today, here’s the doorplate

The Kanji on the door plate read: Nozaki Detective Agency

The twitter then went silent for the next two days to build hype and curiosity to what’s going to come! And on the third day, Tsubaki-sensei finally gave us some context.

We’ve started preparing for Gekkan Shoujo Nozaki-kun’s 10 year anniversary project for next year but... I was soberly shaken, saying,  “What...? 10 years...?“

What.... Wakamatsu hasn’t figured out the Lorelei mystery even after 10 years...?

That’s why the relationships have been slowly moving forward recently!

I’m realizing this after writing this, but Sensei says, “ ローレライのナゾ ”, literally the “Lorelei Mystery” or “riddle”... Maybe the AU will have something to do with that?

After this tweet, she RT’s the original Mikoshiba tweet for more explanation!!

Ah! That’s why, after 4 years (4years!?), Mikoshiba’s twitter is being used again.

This time it’s a Detective Parallel universe, So instead of a “Future Timeline” it’s a “Nozaki, somewhere in a parallel universe” story!

The project hasn’t started yet, so I might move some things around. Please take care of me! (or even Please be patient with me/look forward to it!)

(If you look at the time stamps, Tsubaki-sensei’s tweets were actually posted after the following tweet, Mikoshiba’s third update, but just to prevent confusion, I wanted to include the context here!)

This response is exceptionally long, so I’lll put a Read More here.

Since there’s still a year until the 10 year anniversary project, Sensei will probably continue world building through the Mikoshiba twitter... But there isn’t a set schedule or story line yet.

I was thinking about what to tweet about, but I think first I’ll introduce our employees.

Mikoshiba actually says, “I was thinking about what to advertise”, but I think “promote” or even “tweet” (because that’s more general) makes more sense here.

Either way!! After this, we’re introduced to the Nozaki Detective Agency Employees!! (Which is where that Hori photo came from :D)

First off is Nozaki!!

Representative Nozaki Umetaro.

23 years old. Manga artist-detective. His manga penname is “Yumeno Sakiko”

... Yeah... “Manga artist” and ”detective”. I don’t know what that means.

After reading a detective novel he thought “Detectives are cool!” or something It seems he started this office but still admires novels.

The last half of that was... really hard to translate (lol)... But hopefully it makes sense!

“If I solve a case, maybe someone will write a novel about it,“ he said, glimmering (hopefully/excitedly) No one is going to write it! (That’s not how it works!)

So then he said, “Ah, then I’ll draw it myself!” and started drawing manga. In this month’s issue, the heroine and her boyfriend had a date...

Huh? It’s a RomCom...?

So: Nozaki read a detective novel, thought it was cool and started an agency, then decided he also wanted to draw manga! So in this AU, he’s still a shoujo mangaka, but his day job is a detective (I guess LOL)

The next day!!! Is Hori-senpai!!

Employee 1: Hori Masayuki, age 24

He and Nozaki first met in high school, where he was his senpai. He’s generally really capable so he’s been a huge help after coming to our office!

The last sentence is... too hard for me to translate correctly (primarily cuz of the verb is kinda weird and the sentence subject has kanji I don’t know how to translate aa....) 

But with my shipper heart, I personally read it as:

He often finds himself bickering with the one he likes, one of Nozaki’s guys! Ridiculous!

This may just be my own wishful thinking though, so please don’t take that as accurate lol

**EDIT** I asked someone else, and this is what they said

So a better, more accurate translation:

In Nozaki’s case, he only gets involved if he’s interested in it! Ridiculous!

In a similar fashion to Nozaki’s, he responds to the original tweet with more dialogue!

I’ve recently gotten used to talking with him but Why does he compliment my face so much?

He sometimes tells me, “It’s too bad“ What does that mean...!?

Up next is Waka!!! Here we start to deviate from what could be a potential future timeline, to a parallel universe (like Tsubaki explained)

Part-timer Young Wakamatsu, Age 17

He’s a high schooler living in Nozaki’s neighborhood. It must be fun working part-time at our company.

Seems he recently tried horseback-riding. How bougie! ...I wonder what happened to the flower arranging class I used to attend...

Wakamatsu’s name here is actually written as  “Wakamatsu-shounen” (lit. Wakamatsu-boy) and I just considered removing the last half, but remembered how it’s handled in BNHA lol

Even in this AU, seems like Waka’s a rich boy!!!

also forgive me for translating that as bougie I couldn’t resist

And today’s tweet! Features Mikoshiba!

Employee 2: Mikoshiba Mikoto, Age 22.

This is me. I met Nozaki in college and somehow... it’s become like this. At the agency, Nozaki, Hori-senapi, and I are in charge of different requests.

Thinking about it, they’re all kinda feminine.

Wait, I still attend group dates! Even last week, I met with 3 women!!

Aaaa, Mikoshiba’s casual speech is hard for me to translate, so I apologize if this is wrong as well.

Eh...? What...? I got caught....

It was a game!! A depressing game!!

Employee introductions are now over I’ll tweet if anything else happens!

(Although, if there’s crunch time for Nozaki’s manuscript, I’ll be out of reach)

And so, that’s all the updates we have so far :) I hope it makes enough sense!

for TLDR; In preparation for GSNK’s 10 year anniversary, Tsubaki has started using Mikoshiba’s twitter to run a Detective AU! We haven’t seen any of the girls yet, but so far Nozaki, Mikoshiba, Hori, and Waka have been confirmed as the main characters/the employees at the Nozaki Detective agency.

Given context clues, I’m guessing the “mystery” will be the mystery of Lorelei, but that’s just speculation.

If you want to keep up with the tweets, I recommend following Mikoshiba on twitter (@/mikoshiba0214) and turning on notifications! We’re also talking about it often on the fan discord~ (link in my Updates tab, or you can add me on Discord and I’ll send you the invite directly)

[sunlightdances]

Public Relations (Bucky x Reader Oneshot)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader Prompt: “I’m a woman with a brain and reasonable ability” Author’s Note: Written for @captain-kelli​’s 500 Fam Writing Challenge! Congrats, Kelli, and thank you for hosting! Takes place post-Endgame, but with some adjustments to canon (Tony and Nat are alive, Steve stayed). This has a lot more dialogue than I initially planned! Hope it’s not too choppy. My love of commas is also evident in this piece. *shrug emoji* Disclaimer: I don’t own Bucky, Marvel, or any other related characters or events. The other details of the plot are mine, including the characterization of the “reader”. Please don’t post my work on any other sites without my permission! If you liked what you read, please consider reblogging to help my work be seen. I would love you forever!

Let’s clear one thing up straight away: Bucky Barnes is not an asshole. He has a chip on his shoulder, sure, and it’s also true that he can be grumpy from time to time.

But can you blame him, really?

His life after age 26 has been one giant shit show that he’s just starting to get back on track, so he thinks the world at large could forgive him if he’s not super nice to the reporter hanging around outside the coffee shop or if his resting face sometimes looks like he wants to punch someone.

Still - he’s working on it. Trying to appear a little softer around the edges, trying to remember how to be the person he once was, not because he thinks it’s healthy to try to go back to that time, but because that’s the last time he actually remembers liking himself.

But, again, he’s not an asshole. Or, he tries really hard not to be. A fact he has to keep reminding his friends of (and he uses that word loosely, sometimes), especially when you’re around.

Everything just comes out of his mouth wrong when you’re there.

Probably because you’re around all the time, and you’re smart, and funny, and pretty, and-- nope. He’s not going there. Because reminding himself all the reasons why he likes you just makes him feel more guilty about the way he acts around you. He’s just too chickenshit to admit that he likes you, and ends up being a dick.

As soon as he walks into the Tower, you’re there.

After Thanos, the Avengers returned to New York City. There’s not much left of the Compound upstate to live in right now until the rebuild is done, and he’d been thinking about Brooklyn anyway. Manhattan is different, but he feels better in the city. He thinks the rest of the team likes it here too - it reminds them of the old days, or whatever.

“Sergeant Barnes,” you greet him coolly, matching his stride as he heads towards the elevator. “There’s a meeting in fifteen minutes in the main conference room.”

Bucky makes a noise of acknowledgement, stepping into the elevator and hitting the button for the tenth floor. “Do I have a choice to attend?”

“No you do not.”

“Great.”

He thinks you’re trying not to smile. He grinds his teeth.

“Good afternoon, Sergeant Barnes,” FRIDAY’s voice comes through the overhead speaker. “Captain Rogers requests that you, and I quote, don’t even think about it.”

You snort, and Bucky rolls his eyes. “Punk,” he whispers. “Thanks, FRIDAY. Tell Captain Rogers I said, and I quote, to shove it--”

“Thanks, FRIDAY,” you interrupt, “Thank you so much.”

The few remaining minutes in the elevator are in silence, and you push your way out of the elevator before he can even take a step when it stops. Bucky follows you reluctantly to the conference room where some of the rest of the team is waiting.

Nat looks barely awake (she has trouble sleeping after literally coming back from the dead when Steve returned the stones, what a shocker), Sam is spinning in his chair, and Steve is patiently listening to Peter prattle on about some project he’s working on for biology.

“We’re just waiting on Tony, Bruce, and Scott,” you say, heading towards the head of the table. “Wanda is on a mission with Clint, and Thor is off world. No word from Carol in a few days, either.”

Steve waves you off. “Don’t worry about it. We can fill them in later.”

Bucky’s brow furrows. “Wait, this is your meeting?” He asks you. “What was the point of the AI-assisted lecture from you--” he pointedly glares at Steve.

“Because I knew you’d try to get out of it, so I asked for some help.” You smile sweetly at him.

The rest of the team files in over the next few minutes, and Bucky watches as you shuffle through a few papers before turning on the overhead projector. He has to admit, while he absolutely despises public relations, he has a lot of respect for what you do.

He knows it’s not easy wrangling Tony’s ambitions plus whatever manic situations the team get themselves in on a daily basis. Trying to do press for the Avengers is probably akin to wrangling cats, he supposes.

“So,” you clap your hands together, “the event at Children’s Hospital is in two weeks. Can we please, please avoid any earth-threatening situations that might take precedence over this? We missed it the last few years, obviously, so we need to get out there and make some kids happy.”

A murmured agreement goes throughout the room, and Bucky tips back in his chair, counting down the minutes until he can go literally anywhere else. It’s not you, really. It’s the idea of public appearances. He hates them. People still think of him based on who he was, not who he is now. Despite the fact that Steve and the rest of the team have publicly vouched for him and are working on clearing his name, he sees how people look at him.

You’re tied to that feeling, even though he knows that isn’t fair. He has a hard time separating you from your job.

“The next thing -- and I don’t want to hear about it --” You look around, eyes landing on him meaningfully, “-- there’s a magazine feature for the anniversary of the Battle of New York.”

“Well, that’s me off the hook,” Bucky says flippantly, grinning smugly at Sam, who high fives him.

“No, it absolutely doesn’t,” you argue.

“I wasn’t there, in case you forgot.”

You glare. “Thank you for the reminder.”

“Guys--” Steve tries to interrupt.

“You have to participate, because this article is about the team and how it’s grown since the inception of the Avengers.” You say, almost sounding bored. Probably because you and Bucky have this argument at least once a week.

“Bucky, it’s an hour.” Steve says gently, trying to barter.

“Whatever.” Bucky grumbles, “You know what they’re going to ask,” he says, suddenly angry. “Where was the elusive Winter Soldier during the Battle of New York? Do I remember it happening, or was I in the middle of being frozen or wiped for the thousandth time?”

You shift your weight, looking down at the floor. He feels guilty for a half second. “I won’t let them ask.”

His heart thuds weirdly in his chest at how earnest you sound, but he just can’t help himself, apparently. “Because you’re so sure they’re going to listen to you.”

Hurt flashes across your face so quickly he thinks he’s imagined it, but he knows he hasn’t. Again - he’s not usually an asshole. He still hates himself for it, though.

“Alright, we’re done here.” You say quietly, gathering your paperwork. “I’ll email you all the details.”

Sam elbows him, and across the table, Steve is giving Bucky a look that he’s come to associate with a lecture.

He sighs and rolls his eyes before getting up and heading out of the room, his friends at his heels.

“Wow, a five minute meeting,” Sam is saying, sarcastically. “Gotta be a new record, don’t you think, Rogers?”

Bucky’s new plan is to ignore Sam at all costs. It’s not a plan he thinks is going to work out in his favor, but it’s what he’s sticking with.

“You can’t ignore me forever.”

“Are you a mind reader?” Bucky asks, hitting the button in the elevator for the residential floors.

“It’s two events, Buck.” Steve sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You can handle it.”

“Yeah? Why don’t I let you field the questions I normally get, and we’ll see how you like it.”

“I’m not doubting you. I just don’t understand why you always have to take it out on her.” Steve’s voice is so disappointed, Bucky almost wants to laugh. When his best friend turned into such a mother hen, he’ll never know.

“Don’t be late!” Sam calls as Bucky gets off on his floor, leaving the other men in the elevator.

Flipping him off over his shoulder, he hears Sam’s chuckle and Steve’s sigh before the doors close, and finally he’s alone with his thoughts.

.

.

.

Turns out the interview happens before the hospital visit.

Bucky is in an uncomfortable chair, a reporter across from him, and you behind the reporter, fidgeting slightly. He feels almost relieved that you seem to be as nervous as he is.

“Mr. Barnes,” the reporter begins, a smile Bucky already hates on his face.

“It’s Sergeant.” You say quietly from behind him, and Bucky meets your eyes briefly, seeing the resolve there.

“Of course.” The reporter says smoothly, offering another smile to Bucky. “Sergeant Barnes, you weren’t in New York for the Chitauri invasion, were you.”

“No.”

If the reporter thought he’d elaborate, he doesn’t let on. Bucky saw these questions coming a mile away, and isn’t going to give anyone the satisfaction of saying something he’ll regret. Well, he won’t regret it. But it’ll be a pain in the ass for everyone if he can’t keep his cool.

“This was the first official Avengers event. Do you remember hearing about it?”

Bucky wants to laugh. “Do I remember-- no. I don’t think I was awake for much of 2012.” You fidget again, shifting your weight, and Bucky sighs, grinding his teeth. “I’ve been fully briefed on the invasion and know that what the Avengers did that day saved the world.”

The reporter looks at him for a long moment before shifting the papers on his lap around a bit. “The Avengers have changed a lot in all those years since that first mission. Can you tell me a bit more about your role with the team?”

Bucky relaxes a bit. This is the part he prepped for, the part he could recite in his sleep if he had to. Whatever instinct he had back in the day that allowed him to lead a unit and report to his CO is still there, especially for questions like this. “I work mainly with Captain Rogers and Sam Wilson to coordinate missions and do strategic planning. Recon and research are my main areas of focus, but I go on missions too if needed as backup, or if it’s an all hands on deck situation.”

“So you’re not handling any weapons?”

Bucky blinks. Over the reporter’s shoulder, you frown.

“All Avengers team members undergo weapons training.”

“During the War, you were a sniper with the 107th, correct?”

“Yes.”

“So you’d say that you’re pretty proficient with a gun?”

Your eyes are flashing now. “I’m sorry - none of this was on the list of pre-approved questions.” You interrupt, and the reporter holds up a hand to stop you, causing you to make an affronted face.

Bucky would laugh if he wasn’t feeling so sick at this turn of questioning. Every time. No matter who they vet, no matter how many times reporters insist they aren’t trying to catch him in a question he can’t or doesn’t want to answer… this is why he hates interviews.

“I’m just saying -- you’re one of the world’s most accomplished assassins. I guess I wanted to know why you’re doing research and recon when you could be on the front lines with the team? Are they worried you’ll have a setback?”

Bucky barks out a laugh.

You start, taking a few steps forward. “That’s enough. We’re done here.”

Bucky’s already standing, pulling out the chair from behind him as you come around to follow him out, until the reporter stops you, a hand firm on your elbow. You freeze, and Bucky’s eyes narrow on the point of contact, an unfamiliar feeling surging through him.

“Do you know who I work for?” The reporter hisses. “You told me I’d have a half hour.”

“That was before I knew you were going to ask questions that have nothing to do with your article.” You reply, face darkening when he still hasn’t let go.

Bucky waits, waits for one more sign that you’re uncomfortable before he steps in.

“If you ever want to get another high profile piece done on your team you’ll let me finish here.” He threatens, hand tightening.

You sigh, almost looking bored, and in one swift move, you’ve shifted enough of your weight to turn, pulled the elbow he was holding out of his grasp, and driven it into his ribs, simultaneously kneeing him in the groin.

Bucky’s eyebrows raise, and you look at him, rolling your eyes. “What?”

“Didn’t know you had it in you,” he says, letting a smile slip out so you know he’s kidding.

The reporter is doubled over, still making threats, but neither of you pay him much attention as you walk out the double doors of the conference room in the unfamiliar magazine office, heading towards the lobby.

In the car that’s waiting for you outside, Bucky watches you carefully as you roll your shoulders a bit, clearly smarting from the move you pulled back there.

“If I would have known you could do that, I would have been a little nicer,” he teases, but there’s an undercurrent of truth to his words. Not that he thought he’d ever piss you off enough for you to hurt him, but that he wishes he was nicer to you in general.

You glance at him, face neutral. “It wasn’t that hard. Everyone who works for the Avengers goes through basic self defense training, and I’m a woman with a brain and reasonable ability.”

Bucky nods. “Still. Thank you, by the way, for putting an end to that.”

You sigh, sitting back in your seat, all the fight leaving you. “It’s nothing.” You dig your phone out of your pocket and he watches as your thumbs fly across the screen before you hold it to your ear. “Hi, Steve.” A pause, “No, that’s cancelled. You’re not doing it. Tell Tony I’m cancelling the rest of the interviews. We’ll find some other place to get it published.”

He knows he’s staring and he knows he should stop before you notice, but he just… can’t take his eyes off you. The way you stood up for him, the way you promised him you would even when he was being a total asshole… he has no idea what he did to deserve it, but he’s damn grateful.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You ask, your tone softer than he’s ever heard it.”

He shakes his head, looking down at his feet. “No reason. Just-- sorry I’m such a dick sometimes.”

You laugh, and he immediately wants to hear it again.

“I mean it,” he continues, “I don’t mean to be. You don’t deserve it.”

“Bucky.” Your voice is even softer, quiet, and he struggles to think if you’ve ever called him by his name before. You wait until he meets your eyes. “It’s fine. We’re all-- just trying to get through this.” You shrug. “I know it’s not easy for you. Just… Trust me sometimes, will you?”

“I do trust you.” He replies immediately, absolutely sure of himself for once.

It’s your turn to be a little surprised.

He rubs his hands together, a nervous tick he’s never gotten rid of. “I’ve been trying to distance myself because I like you. And that honestly scares the shit out of me. I don’t know--” He stops, frustrated. “I don’t know how to do this anymore. And all I keep thinking about is what could go wrong.” He takes a chance and glances up at you, and the look in your eyes… it’s more than he expected. He feels his heart take off in his chest.

“We’re both so stupid, Bucky.” You tell him, but your words are light. “You should have said something.”

He rolls his eyes. “People always say that. But when has a conversation like this one ever been one that someone wants to have?”

“Maybe when the other person feels the same way?”

Bucky can’t breathe. He never even considered it. It was always a forgone conclusion in his mind. He thinks you’re beautiful, and you never think about him at all. That was always the truth that he thought he knew. “Go out with me.” He blurts, and then feels his face redden. “I mean-- let me-- will you let me take you to dinner?”

The car stops in front of the tower and you’re opening the door before you say anything, making him panic a little. A look over your shoulder, “I’ll see if I can pencil you in somewhere.” You say, and then with a wink, you’re gone, leaving him scrambling to get out of the car to catch up to you.

Before you can, Steve is there, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Not now--”

“Can’t help it. She called a meeting.”

Bucky stops in his tracks, and laughs. “Did she.”

“She must know how much you love them. Come on.”

Upstairs he finds his usual seat next to Sam and across from Steve, but when you gather your notes and meet his eyes, yours absolutely sparkling, he finds he’s not dreading this one at all. He still wants to take you to dinner though, so he might have to try to break his own record.

A 5 minute meeting so he can convince you to go on a date with him? He thinks he can swing it.

End

[winterscaptain]

directors commentary on absence plzzz

what an excellent choice!! 

commentary in bold italics

So the BH arc was chopped to shit while I was working on it, because I couldn’t decide what Mom got REALLY mad about. Because Derek really had the corner on being mad at Aaron over Emily and I wanted to push it into the personal a little more. 

Plus, I sometimes think the “let’s get mad at Aaron and JJ for Emily” is a touch overplayed and definitely would have been that way in this story. 

You let yourself into his apartment, slamming the door behind you. He’s been waiting for you, leaning against the windowsill across from the door. 

“How dare you.”

He sighs and presses a hand to his forehead. “You have to understand that I -”

“Bullshit, Aaron. I don’t have to understand a goddamn thing. What are you thinking? We need you.” 

His head tips up, and he looks through you. The haunted look in his eyes almost makes you falter - it so acutely reminds you of the days following Haley’s death - but you keep your resolve. You know what that is? Growth! Mom is REFUSING to cave to his inner demons bullshit. He doesn’t say anything, just lets you yell at him until it’s out of your system. You could never actually hate him and he knows that, which makes some of it easier, but not all of it. 

This was also the fight that was originally written for Mean It, but I spliced different beats in based on what the story called for. This one fit much better here, and increases the stakes because he’s about to leave. 

The tears start and pick up speed as you continue, nearly at a shout. “You’ve known for seven months that you were going to leave for Pakistan. I read the brief. Seven. Fucking. Months, Aaron. You didn’t tell us when the task force assignment came through. Emily died, and you’re still leaving?” He flinches. And they’re so worked up they don’t even notice the magnitude or depth of the flinch like they usually would. “You’re leaving me and Jack. You’re leaving our team. I never thought you could do something like that to us. Maybe them, but not me. Never to me. I mean, after everything we’ve -” You cut yourself off and raise the back of your hand to your mouth, unable to finish the unbearably painful thought.

I had a ridiculous amount of fun writing this fight. I LOVE writing fights. 

And “wet anger” as @ssaic-jareau​ put it, is so much more interesting and damning than dry anger for situations like this, especially in opposition to Aaron.  

He’s not sure which part is the most painful - the fact that you list yourself with Jack instead of with the team, the fact that you say ‘our team,’ or the tone that drips with hurt. The sob that rips through your chest breaks his heart. Remember in enough when he was thinking about the horror of causing them pain? Yeah me too. He leans heavily against the arm of his couch, knocked down by the weight of your tears. 

No - the hardest part is knowing he deserves it, that you aren’t saying anything that isn’t unfair or untrue. 

Mom’s anger and hurt feeds right into his insecurities. This is quite literally his worst fear come to life, and as confident as he is in the strength of their relationship, he is terrified that he wont come back from this one. 

“I can’t even look at you right now.” 

He can only watch you as you walk back out, leaving the door open behind you. 

There’s something so satisfying about leaving the door open after a fight. Like the drama of a slammed door is one thing, but I’ve always preferred creating a situation in which the other person has to get up and close the door behind you. 

From experience, it’s incredibly satisfying. 

About twenty minutes later, he receives a text.

9:34pm I’ll be there tomorrow at 12:30 to take you to base. Be ready when I get there. 

He crawls into bed about a half an hour later, and receives another text.

10:05pm Goodnight. 

The period at the end of that text is like the death knell for Aaron. 

Fuck. 

OOOOOOOH Aaron you done fucked up, kiddo. Good thing you’re self aware and have literal MONTHS without Mom to figure it out :)

(God he’s an idiot)

+++

The ride to base ride is mostly silent, and you know something’s wrong. It’s nothing you can articulate or even really put your finger on, but it’s something bigger than just his imminent absence.

As much as they know about each other, their emotional tuning forks can’t get past what they won’t share with the other. In this instance, Mom has not the first clue about what he’s hiding from her. How could she know?

He’s boarding a C-130 supply transport to Pakistan, and it will no doubt be a long and deeply uncomfortable flight. His go bag, packed with desert fatigues and a couple of creature comforts, looks smaller than usual at his feet. 

“How long?”

He sighs and shakes his head. “Taskforce operations are need-to-know.” There’s so much he can’t tell you, and it eats at him. Because it’s you, and he’s been an ass, he concedes a little. And also he can only keep so many secrets from them. “Probably a couple of months.”

“We’ll be okay, Aaron.” A little laugh leaves him, and it pulls a smile from you. “What?”

“Remember when you chased me down last night to tell me the team couldn’t do this without me?” 

This is a dialogue motif for sure - it shows up all over the place in this series. 

Remember all those other times you chased him down to yell at him about something? Yeah, those too. 

You roll your eyes. “It’s still true, but we’ll manage. We always do.” There’s a moment of silence, and you continue. “And you’re going where you’re needed - that helps.” 

It’s true. Your anger had cooled (just a little) overnight, and you decided you didn’t want him to leave while you were still upset with each other. 

You already miss him. 

Yes, that’s a motif and the reference in fear itself, with Haley. 

“Don’t think I’m not still mad at you.”

He looks out the window, and you can hear the wheels turning in his head. Jack is on his mind, and so are you. There’s nothing more nauseating than the thought of leaving you while you’re still hurting from Emily’s loss. “I know.” 

Why are you going through with this, Hotchner?

Oh, right. You’re a coward. 

“I just don’t want our last conversation before you leave to be a fight.” You sniff, but don’t look at him as you continue driving down the highway. 

I think this is their version of not “going to bed angry” as the saying goes. There was this fear I tried to convey that if they fought before he left and something happened to him, your last words to each other would be angry ones.

I am perhaps the most undeserving man on the planet. 

You’re also an idiot, Aaron. 

He says, “Thank you. I don’t want that either,” but he hopes you can hear what else he can’t say. 

He has the same fear - of something happening to them (because he’s never worried about himself) while he’s gone, coming home to another funeral. 

I love you. I’m sorry. 

+++

“Alright, you’ve got everything you need?” You stand next to him on the tarmac, shading your eyes from the sun. 

Aaron hikes his bag higher on his shoulder. “Think so. You gonna be alright?”

This was the first scene I saw. I so clearly envisioned the blinding sunlight in the middle of the afternoon during a Virginia spring with the two of them standing out there in a kind of isolated no-mans-land out on the tarmac. 

You nod and reach for him. He embraces you, tucking his head into your shoulder. “You be safe, Aaron Hotchner. If you die out there I’ll kill you myself.” 

He chuckles, and you hope the sound is enough to keep your heart from breaking too much over the next couple of months. Your eyes close as he presses a kiss to your cheek. This image made my heart hurt. “I’ll check in when I can.”

Shoving against his chest, you turn him around and push him toward the plane. “Get outta here.” And that, kids, is what we call emotional redirection and a repressive coping strategy!

He takes one last look over his shoulder when he reaches the ramp and offers you a wave. You return it. 

+++

You manage to get to the highway before the tears start. The only person you want to talk to is Emily. She’d know exactly what to say, and she’d make sure your days off were full of fun and good company. You pull off on the side of the road, your head falling into your hands, sobs wracking through you.

When you’re able to keep driving, your chest hurts beyond belief. 

Without her, these months seem to stretch before you forever. 

+++

“Ready or not, here I come!” You call across the apartment, sneaking through the familiar rooms with practiced ease. 

This was another one of those very clear scenes that just popped into my head. 

Aaron’s been away for close to a month, and you’ve settled into a routine. Cases, of course, keep you busy. Derek’s rather good at playing Unit Chief - decisive and collaborative - but you miss Aaron’s steady, even hand. 

Really, you miss everything about him. You try not to think about him too much. 

You fail, often. 

Avoiding thoughts of Aaron gets even harder as you creep into the master bedroom. The smell of him hasn’t left. Smell is such a strong link to memory and I just had to include that as something in this chapter of their lives. Like it’s so weird going into someone’s room, no matter how many times you’ve been there, and there’s no evidence that they’ve been there since the last time you saw them. Past the doorway, the air is spicy, masculine, and warm. You squint at the bed. One of the pillows moves, just a little, and you pounce, pulling the covers back and grabbing the wiggling pillow. 

Jack screeches and throws himself at you. You catch him and fall back on the bed, laughing. “I found you!”

Jess is off running errands for the afternoon, taking some well-earned time off. You’ll more than likely spend the night over here tonight to give her more of her weekend. It’s never any trouble to stay with Jack. You adore each other. 

I am so soft for Mom and Jack y’all.

Usually, Jack leaps right to his feet for another round, but he stays put after his fit of mirth passes, sprawling across your chest. 

“What are you thinking about over there?”

He sighs, and brings his little hands under his chin, propping his head up so he can look at you. He’s six, now - still very much a boy - but the pensive look on his face starkly reminds you of his father. Oh, don’t worry. He’ll keep doing that well into adulthood but the resemblance will only get scarier. “When’s dad going to be home?”

You push some hair off his forehead. “I’m not sure, my love. I’m hoping it’s only a couple more weeks, but it could be a little longer than that.” 

He sighs, and it breaks your heart a little. You turn on your side, and he curls into you, resting his head on your arm and tucking under your chin. Don’t worry. He’ll keep doing that, too. “Are you and my dad best friends?”

You laugh a little. “Yeah, I think so. Your dad and I have known each other for a long time.” His little hands play with the collar of your shirt. There’s more to his question. Jack’s just like his dad and takes a bit of ferreting out. Luckily, you’ve had plenty of practice. “What are you curious about, little bug?”

“Do you miss Dad?”

I always want to show that Jack feels safe with them, and can ask them harder questions without fear of judgment. 

A track of Aaron’s laugh, his smile, the way his arms feel around you flies through your head. “Yeah, I miss him a lot.” 

“I’m happy you’re here so we can miss him together.” You can almost hear Aaron’s voice in Jack’s. It sounds just like something he would say, and probably has said, talking to his son about Haley.

I love the things that kids kind of implicitly understand.

“Me too, buddy.” You kiss the top of his head. “Me too.” 

Jess returns about an hour later, groceries in-hand, to find you and Jack curled together in Aaron’s bed, snoozing the afternoon away. She snaps a picture with her phone, saving it in an album she keeps for Aaron. After she puts the groceries away, she escapes, leaving a note. 

I LOVE THESE little tableaus. And y'all know how much I like pictures. 

Did you notice that this picture comes up in mistletoe??

You’re on your own tonight and tomorrow. Have a good time with breakfast - he’s been picky lately. 

XO, Jess

+++

Back to back cases - five of them, to be exact, pull you through the next two months by the ear. Formal leadership wears on Derek more and more by the day, and you find yourself making just as many decisions as he does. That’s a fun parallel to season five!! You’re immensely proud of him, but the whole thing is exhausting. Most days feel held together by duct tape, with you and Rossi acting as the adhesive. 

Thus, your evening with Jess is both well-earned and much needed. 

“Wanna crash here tonight?” She sets a mug of tea down on the coffee table in front of you and sits heavily back on the couch. “It’s pretty late.”

You check your watch and find it is indeed late. Before you can answer, your phone rings, and you answer it with an apologetic glance toward Jess. “Hey, Morgan. What’s up?”

“We have sat call notification from Hotch. Can you come in?” He sounds exhausted. 

In real life, you don’t just get to carry sat phones around willy nilly. Satellite time is EXPENSIVE and the US Govt is FRUGAL in the extreme (when it comes to minor DoJ teams and stuff - don’t get me started on being a global police force because that’s a RABBIT HOLE)

“Yeah, I can be there in twenty. Is everything okay?”

He sighs. “Yeah, looks like a routine check-in.” 

Jess sighs, knowing the drill. She goes to the kitchen and pours your tea into a travel mug. 

Have I mentioned yet today that I LOVE Jess Brooks??

“Are you calling anyone else in?”

“Nope. Just you. See you when you get here.” He hangs up. 

You stare at your phone as Jess sits next to you again. “We have a call from Aaron coming in, and I have to head to the office.” She hands you your travel mug, and you take it gratefully. 

“You’re welcome back here - I can set up Aaron’s room for you. We’re a lot closer to the office than your place, and I don’t want you to drive if you’re too tired.” She sets a hand on your knee, and you reach over to embrace her. 

“Thanks, Jess.”

+++

When you arrive, Derek’s already on the phone. “… So, no leads?… Right.” He looks up and catches your eye. “Here, Hotch.”

You take the phone. “Hey.”

“Hi.” He sounds relieved. “Are you doing okay? How’s Jack?”

I love this moment, and I could so clearly picture some of the tension leaving his shoulders on the other end of the phone. 

His questions make you smile. “We’re good. He’s good. I just left the apartment - Jess and I were having some grown-up movie time.”

You’re warmed by his laugh. “Good. Glad to hear it. I was just telling Derek that the leads out here have gone cold, but we’re still working.”

“Ah. Any chance you’ll be home soon?” You avoid Derek’s searching gaze. 

Derek always knows something, doesn’t he?

“It doesn’t look that way, no. We’re picking up on some chatter out there, but nothing firm. We’ll have to keep out for a couple more weeks at least.”

Your heart drops, but you hide it as best you can. “Alright. Anything you need from us back here?”

“Just keep doing good work.” You know he can’t say much more than that, with more than a couple of NSA guys in between you on the line, not to mention the archival recording of the call. Both of those things actually happen, too. You can’t just say shit about shit over a sat phone. Even then, you know he means looking for Doyle. “That’s all I need from you.” 

“We can do that.” You give him a quick rundown of some recent cases, all surface-level. You’re mostly stalling, using up incredibly expensive satellite time just to hear his voice. 

You hear him sigh. “Alright, I gotta get back. Tell Jack and Jess I love them.” 

There’s also something unspoken here!! But we all knew that. 

“Of course.” You hand the phone back to Derek and wait while they finish up. Your eyes wander over the volumes of law books in Aaron’s bookshelf, the pictures of Jack and Haley and Jess behind his desk. Wandering over to his chair, you sit down and rest your head on your arms. 

Your eyes wander to a photo taken a year and a half ago at Haley’s service. You’re not sure who took it, but you’re crouched on the ground talking to Jack, while Aaron stands behind him with a hand on his head. Jack’s little hands are in yours, and he’s smiling a little. 

I am just a sucker for pictures. I know I’ve said this before, but they are such a wonderful vehicle for implicit characterization. I think, in some ways, he keeps this picture because in a kind of abstract, mournful way, it’s a photo of all four of them.

Of all the photos to keep on his desk…

Derek hangs up the sat phone and puts it back in the lockbox. He crosses the office and leans against the desk beside you, placing a hand on your shoulder. 

PHYSICAL CONTACT

+++

When you get back to the apartment (indeed much closer than your home), Jess is asleep in the guest room, and Jack’s still out like a light. 

Aaron’s bed feels far too big and far too cold without him. 

+++

The next time a sat call comes in, you can’t go into the office. Jack has the flu and is absolutely miserable. You can’t, in good conscience, leave Jess to her own devices. Between the vomit and the sleeplessness and the tears, four sets of hands are absolutely necessary. 

I think this is really one of those moments where they step into the parent role for Jack. I didn’t feel the need to explicitly note it in here, but that’s the way I approached this scene. 

“Derek, I can’t leave. Jack is literally puking his guts out as we speak, and I don’t have any new intel for Hotch.” 

Morgan huffs into the phone. “Come on. You know you’re the only one he actually wants to talk to and the only one who has any actual updates about Jack.” 

“You just have to tell him that I’m with Jack tonight because he’s got the flu. Isn’t that enough of an update?” You don’t really mean to snap at him, but the lack of sleep has made you a little punchy. 

“Fine. If he -”

“Yeah, I know. If he gets upset, just blame me. He can deal with me when he’s not in Pakistan. As long as there are twelve time zones between us, I’ll take my chances.”

“Fair enough.” 

Even though he’s Acting Unit Chief, they’re still best friends and you can tell lmao.

He hangs up, and you return to the hall bathroom, where Jack’s cheek is pressed against the toilet seat, his forehead damp and face pale. Jess is taking her turn to sleep - you’ll switch off in an hour. 

“Hey, bubba.”

He mumbles something that sounds like, “Hi.”

“Can I get you some crackers?” 

Jack shakes his head and lifts himself up, holding his arms out. The risk of illness far from your mind, you gather him up and lean against the cabinets, rubbing his back.

“Can you try to close your eyes for me?”

“I don’t feel good.” There are a few tears in his voice, and it breaks your heart a little. You’ve so been there. 

“I know, baby. I know. Just close your eyes for a minute, okay?”

He does, and his breathing evens out eventually. He’s still feverish, but you’re happy he’s sweating, at least. It could break by morning at this rate. 

The makeshift towel-bed on the bathroom floor looks more than inviting. You gingerly shuffle over and lay down, keeping Jack flat against your chest. 

This was such a hallmark of my childhood - the sleeping on towels if you had a stomach bug. I remember being so exhausted that the towels were suddenly the best thing in the whole wide world. Like....mattress who??

It’s the best sleep you’ve had in weeks. 

+++

The hardest days are the ones where you end up by yourself. Derek’s picked up kickboxing with Penelope, JJ has her family, and Rossi retreats to the cabin by the lake with an alarming degree of regularity. 

Thank God he’s not as cranky as Gideon. 

That would be too spooky. 

Any excuse to get a lil jab at Gideon in, it’s one I’m going to capitalize on.

Everyone is out of the office, scattered to their respective distractions. You sit on the floor of Aaron’s office, leaning against his desk. Your laptop sits open in front of you, playing a movie you’re only half paying attention to. 

I like this image of them just...going to the office to hang out, even on a day off. I used to do that in the theatre when I was in college. I had no reason whatsoever for being there, but it wasn’t my house so it was a nice change. 

It was only this afternoon you realized his office smelled more like Morgan’s Tiger Balm than Aaron, and it broke your heart a little. Your only solace was his apartment - the evidence of his existence was inescapable there. With Emily gone for good, you often needed the reminder. 

His office phone rings. You pause the movie, stand, and answer it. 

“Agent Hotchner’s office.” 

NSA is on the other side, dry and professional. “We have an incoming call from Agent Hotchner. Is Agent Morgan available?” 

You tell him he’s not, but that you’re the next in line to receive task force updates. In an equally dry and professional tone, you relay your credentials and your unique intel code. 

“Thank you. Please stand by.” Click. 

You roll your eyes. 

God, they’re boring. 

Sitting down at Aaron’s desk, you wait for the armed guard to arrive with the phone. As per protocol, you’ll sign for the call and remove it from the lockbox yourself. You’ll return it for pickup when the call is completed. 

The guard shows up and you step through the motions, finally getting the phone to your ear. 

“Hey.” 

“Oh, it’s you.” He sounds surprised, but not displeased. 

You laugh a little. “Yeah, it’s me. Morgan’s unavailable at the moment.” 

“I see. Is Jack feeling any better?”

Another thing I wanted to lean into in this part was the anguish Aaron must feel being so far away from Jack for so long. 

“Yeah. He’s been alright for about a week now. It was a pretty nasty bug, but he’s a trooper. Any new chatter down your way?” You trace the wood grain of his desk with your finger, only a little absent-minded. 

“There’s a little bit of activity on the border. We’re monitoring the situation. Is everything going okay over there?”

“Yeah, for the most part. We’ve been feeling the heat a little since Seaver transferred to Andy’s unit, but we’re managing alright. Dave’s called JJ back in to lend a hand, and she’s doing really well.” 

That was such a tiny detail in the show, but i realized how rough it must have been to be down like three people by the end of it. 

He hums. “That was a smart idea.” 

“I’ll tell him you said so.” 

“Oh, please don’t. It’ll go straight to his head.” 

You smile. “Fair point. Any updates on the timetable?”

When are you coming home? Please make it soon. 

“Not at the moment. I think we’re getting closer. Few more weeks.” There’s something behind his voice you can’t quite grasp, but you let it go. Again, not a singular clue means that the emotional tuning fork is broken. 

“Alright. Keep us posted.” 

“Will do. You know the drill.” 

“I sure do. I’ll relay the information to the team, tell your son you love him, and talk to you in a couple of weeks.” 

You can almost hear his smile. “Exactly. Talk soon.”

“Be safe, Aaron.” 

+++

You’re all gathered at the roundtable when Aaron walks in, looking all the worse for wear and - 

Is that a beard?

Did I make myself myself laugh with that first observation? Yes. Was it my first thought even before I could process the delight that we wouldn’t have any episodes without him the first time I saw 7x01? Yes. 

Wait. He’s back. 

You just spoke to him on Monday, with news of a “few more weeks.”

Fucking bastard knew he was coming home, didn’t he?

All of your joy in seeing him evaporates, and you narrow your eyes at him. This was that moment where I had that AHA! thing. I realized that THIS was the thing they were going to get upset about. And it’s not just the anger from right now, the anger from before comes rushing back too. Basically - he’s safe, so they can get really mad and the fear goes away. Just like the last time you were in this room together, there’s an apology in his gaze. 

“Welcome back.” Derek doesn’t sound surprised, and your head whips toward him. He doesn’t look at you. 

Unbelievable. 

“Thanks. Everyone, have a seat.” You follow Aaron’s instructions, and sit, crossing your arms. It’s childish, sure, but the balance of personal and professional life has flown out the window. Okay serious question. Was it ever in the room with y’all? 

The next part here comes straight out of the show but it was SO fun to reframe.

Collecting the dialogue and who says what is often the most tedious part of the process for the episode-linked fics, but once that’s done I have a lot of fun putting it together and linking things into the rest of the universe - pointing things out and the like. 

I always feel like y’all know so much about how I watch the show and my perspective on it with the episode fics. It’s kind of an interesting picture to me, like y’all are looking at it the way I see it. I dunno. That was a random thought. 

This feels like a personal slight, rather than a professional one. You try to push it away, but it lingers in your sternum like a lit flare. It’s uncomfortable, and you hate it. 

I’ve always found it’s really unpleasant to be mad at someone you really love. I always hate it because I don’t usually want to be mad. I wanted to lean into that feeling here. 

“Why?” Derek sounds a little concerned, and you can’t blame him. “What’s going on? Is everything alright?”

“Seven months ago I made a decision that affected this team.” You notice, brow furrowed, that JJ stands beside Hotch like an ally. They both have odd looks on their faces. “As you all know, Emily had lost a lot of blood after her fight with Doyle.”

No. 

Reader doesn’t know what they don’t know, but they know something in their gut. I don’t think it would be too off-base to attribute it to their connection to Aaron. 

“The doctors were able to stabilize her. She was airlifted from Boston to Bethesda under a covert exfiltration.” 

No. 

“Her identity was strictly need-to-know. She stayed there until she was well enough to travel. She was reassigned to Paris, where she was given several identities, none of which we had access to for her security.” 

No. 

There’s silence, and you can’t tear your eyes from Aaron.  

“She’s alive?”

“We buried her.” 

Penelope and Spencer’s comments rush past you and you feel much like you did in the waiting room on that horrible, horrible night seven months ago. 

“As I said, I take full responsibility for the decision. If anyone has any issues, they should be directed toward me.” 

His eyes finally meet yours, and you find your vision blurred. You blink away your tears. 

It was a necessary lie. 

You go into this business expecting to be lied to. 

Not by Aaron. 

That’s not the issue and you know it. He left. 

He left us. 

THIS is exactly the conflict and why Reader can’t fully trust him. It’s very normal to have these kinds of covert operations in agencies, though they seem jarring in the context of a team that’s so close. 

It’s a weird reminder that this is still the FBI, and even though they’re family, they are colleagues and agents first. That’s an uncomfortable realization and part of me thinks that’s why Derek got so mad. 

He was so ready for the BAU to be different, to be his family. We know that Derek has HUGE issues with trust, so evidence that his family isn’t as “safe” as he thought would be have been so difficult to process. 

“Any issues?” Derek’s disbelief is marred by hurt, but you can’t reassure him through your own shock. “Yeah, I got issues.”

He’s cut off by Penelope’s glance toward the doorway. 

The team, save for JJ and Hotch, rush toward her. You’re stuck to your seat until she approaches you. At her touch, you come back to life, throwing yourself into her arms. “Emily.”

“I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry.” Her grip on you is tight, but your arms, looped around her shoulders, don’t feel like they’re attached to your body. 

Y’all ever felt that buzzing feeling when there’s so much happening and everything feels like radio static? Yeah. 

She lets you go and continues to speak. Derek’s frozen, and you can’t imagine for a minute what’s going on in his head. Emily wraps around him. He’s stock still, his eyes misty. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when he brings his hand to her shoulder, his cheek falling onto the side of her head. 

It’s back to business faster than you can blink, and now you’re sure you’re not the only one ready to kill Aaron where he stands. Derek is livid. 

They stare at each other while Spencer starts asking questions. Eventually, they focus back. Aaron crosses to you, contributing where necessary. He just wants to be close because he missed them :’) Nice try, buddy. You’re in deep shit. You don’t acknowledge him. It’s horrible. You hate being so angry with him, but there’s nothing to be done. 

You can’t be upset at him about Emily. There’s too much to understand, and yet the initial shock of it is like a never-ending bucket of cold water poured over your body. 

Selfishly, you realize you’re upset with him because he didn’t tell you he was coming home. It’s so small when there are other, much bigger, issues to address. 

I also loved the opportunity to lean into such a small issue??? It was a challenge to make it big enough to be a believable blowout in mean it, but it got easier once I realized that their anger wasn’t really about Pakistan. It’s more of an activating excuse that brings all of their feelings up to the surface and it’s overwhelming!

Emily’s lie is professional. Just part of the job. This one feels personal.

You’re a child. Let it go. 

He knew and he left. 

He knew and he left. 

He knew and he left. 

He didn’t tell you he was coming home.

Whew. That was fun. Stay tuned!