#I love her so so much she is so funny to me-

[court-jobi]

Hi, lately I came across your blog and I really adore your writting style :3

I was very excited when I saw you have open requests (if I am not wrong, otherwise ignore me hah), so I have request for Bakugou × reader, when they are in established relationship, but lately it got rocky, because he was barely home, trying to climb ranks and just neglecting their relationship, so they barely even talk. Then reader gets kidnapped, due to being Bakugou's SO, but she feels so irrelevant at this point that she starts saying to the kidnapper that they are wasting their time, because Bakugou is not coming for her, whick Katsuki overhears, you know just good old angst with fluff at the end maybe

If this request is too complicated or specific please don't feel pressured to do this, anyway have a lovely day/night

I am very much receptive to asks, and thank you so much for providing one!! super flattered actually and spent my entire afternoon crafting up this bad boy bc I had an instant idea for it

Hopefully I touched all the right notes on this one, enjoy anon! Don't be a stranger~

Do It Scared

Words: 4.9K

Warnings: Pro Hero!Bakugou x reader TW: kidnapping, intimidation, light descriptions of violence, protective Bakugou is protective, language, angst with a happy ending (promise!!) and potential spoiler: Pro Hero!Deku

for my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on Ao3

Dynamight is on top of the world– or at least working his ass off to get there.

With Deku back on the leaderboard, he’s got twice the motivation and has never been in love with being a hero more.

“That’s what -heh- nine for you this week, Dynamight?” the newly suited Pro beams at Bakugou- not unlike the five year old version of him did back a lifetime ago.

Only instead of bashing the twerp upside the head with a gloating tease, Bakugou simple smirks and gives Midoriya a stiff push on the shoulder, 

“Ten, but who’s counting, nerd?”

The winded, black-and-blue villain currently under custody finds the heroes’ track records funny. Midoriya doesn’t necessarily take these villain types’ remarks to heart, but hates the attitude of this one today.

“Yer sidekick keepin’ count?! You wanna badge or a chest to pin it on, smartie pants? –AAGH!”

“HEY- THE ONLY GUY CALLIN’ THIS DEKU A NERD IS ME, DUMBASS!! YOU’RE THE SHITHEAD GOING TO JAIL FOR THAT STUNT– AND HE’S HEADING INTO THE TOP TEN!!”

“HO-OKAY, DYNAMIGHT, I think he’s had enough!!” 

Deku corrals the punk’s restraints a bit, but leaves the remaining process of reading rights and detainment for the police who just rolled up. Deku will proudly share that much prefers this ‘thick as thieves’ treatment to the ‘fight me or die’ dynamic they shared in school, and couldn’t be happier to be Pro Heroes once again.

And if Bakugou were completely honest, so was he. He’s in his element and closer to reaching his goal by the day.

Walking out of earshot from the police unit, the two are heading over to Ingenium and Creati who are deeply engrossed with the intelligence officers who just arrived on the scene. 

“Ten it is, then– you really need to start leaving some to me though; I can handle it, you know,” Midoriya slips his facemask down, exposing a pleading grin Bakugou still kinda wants to punch some days. “Might give you a little time to actually take a rest day now and then!”

“Tch, if you were fast enough, you’d do it, ‘Zuku.” Bakugou straightens out his gauntlet, but misses his best friend’s tilt of a frown. “N’ who said I need a rest day, anyway? I’ve never been better!”

“I can think of one person..” Midoriya hinted strongly at something that truly escaped Bakugou’s focus. Every now and then, he couldn’t quite mindread the nerd like normal, if he was deep in work mode.

“Heh?”

Midoriya raised a friendly, tired brow, “How’s your girl been lately, hm?”

Bakugou tenses a touch, but quips back, “Whaddya mean. She’s fine, been working a lot too.”

“Not as much as you. What’s she up to? You haven’t said much about her.”

Which was an oddity, indeed. Your successes, your insights, and even your random memes were common topics of conversation from Bakugou’s lips. But Midoriya did raise a finer point between the lines– you’d been put on something of a backburner, and he knew better that something must be off for the blond porcupine to rarely speak of you. Bakugou sensed it himself, but the more repeated check-in texts he received, the cycle of his non-answers worsened. This must be what the nerd is getting at.

“She’s fine-” Bakugou pressed, assuring himself and no one else, “Look, we’ve got our flow, and it works. I keep her in the loop when I’m busy and she gets it.”

Midoriya heaves a disbelieving breath, and just fixes Bakugou a look.

“What’s that shitty look for, huh? Whaddyou know?!”

“I know when she texted me yesterday that she doesn’t sound thrilled about your overtime…” the freckled sweetheart touched a personal chord within Bakugou. “Or that she hasn’t even heard from you to talk about it? I mean, I-I know it’s not my business, but Ka-”

“Deku, Dynamight!” Iida waved the two over from their aside, and back into work mode- to Bakugou’s drop in spirit, “We have a bit of a time-sensitive mission to take care of~”

Deku turned to the officer, raring to go and and straightening up his shoulders to address their more formal counterparts, “Of course, officer- how can we help?”

“Well sirs, we’ve got an ongoing heist over on the other side of the riverbank, and need a bit of coordination to respond.”

Yauyorozu had just finished off a protein pack of some sort and had demurely crumpled its trash in her hand while navigating an ipad passed to her. She’d welcomed Midoriya over when he took interest in whatever footage she’d been presented.

“Well shit, we supposed to be standin’ around like this when time’s wasting, or what?” Bakugou asked brusquely.

Ingenium -in his formal, helmeted fashion couldn’t hide his practiced patience well with the hothead in his response;

“The need for firepower is necessary, Dynamight– but caution is as well,” Iida reminded dryly. “We are in a heavily populated area, and must exercise control.”

Bakugou merely purred a low growl and turned diplomatic.

“Fine. We got live wires? Hostages?”

“To our knowledge, only a select few- a dozen at most,” the officer answered, “We can see most of the victims through the bank’s glass lobby. It’s a small, petty theft group- or so we thought, but there are some decent quirk users among them. Seems they are after more than funds, but records as well.”

Bakugou refrained from rolling his eyes, but only barely. Surely there were bigger and better missions to be pursuing than this– something a bit flashier, more suited for his skills with higher civilian rescue numbers to add to his count.

“One guest was able to contact via the emergency text line, and reported that someone did pull an emergency trigger and was taken further back into the vaults as a prisoner.”

Iida empathized, “Hardly fair- I’m sure none of these customers were armed, and they were simply acting as any hero would trying to notify the authorities.”

The officer firmed up a smile in agreement and proceeded to share some more info about how far back into the bank the team would need to infiltrate based on proximity to servers. 

“Sure you don’t just wanna call ‘Tape’, bust in there, strap ‘em up, and call it a day? Y’don’t really need a whole evac team, do you.”

A simple rescue in-and-out should be easy enough, or so he assumed- until Yaoyorozu took a bit of a sharp intake of breath in her nose, alerting Deku to fixate on the screen again,

“Bak- erm. Dynamight,” Yaoyorozu interjected gently, “-you need to see this-”

Bored and still half paying attention to the officer, Bakugou only barely looked Momo’s way, and didn’t really feel like a crowd around a tiny screen -in full sun- was warranted.

“What? It’s frickin’ bright out-”

“Kacchan,” Midoriya shot back icily, “get over here.”

Something alarming had struck him in the face, and he was purposefully putting on a front to those not personally connected to the heroes. Sidestepping ‘Legs’, Bakugou was passed the ipad and played back the security footage of the interior of the bank.

Time stamped at just fifteen minutes ago, a civilian in question had tried dipping around the counter to where some clerks had been bullied up to the opposite wall- but one of the employees jerked her head towards one of the registers- a lightning quick gesture. This cued the civvie -a woman, if the hiked up skirt was a correct indication- in the foreground to feel around the bottom lip of the keyboard for something- likely an alarm switch. Once done so, she’d merely knelt back down, hoping to stay low and sneak back to avoid the thug to lash out at the person who’d tipped her off.

But then -comically enough- the thug sneezed and unfortunately whipped to the side to let it fly. Looking up, there she was in his sightline. With something akin to a spider’s web knocking her flat onto her back, she’d been dragged up and back with the others- trying to ground herself with a squatted stance first, tried to force her elbows back, then bashing her head back in an attempt to hit her captor– until she was ultimately slapped and taken back to the far hallway, hunched over.

Bakugou saw red. His heart stopped then set itself on fire, hotter than Hades. He’d known that self defense response from having taught it, himself.

You pulled the alarm. 

For the first time in his career- he knows the target he’s saving. He’s in love with her, after all.

Damn your neck hurts. If your elbows hadn't been glued up to your sides, you woulda used those instead; but now having jerked your head back, you’d given yourself a healthy dose of whiplash.

And got a punch to the gut. And a slap to the face. Joy.

There’s fight, flight, freeze, and fawn. You’d seemingly gone for the fight route, with your body moving before your self-preservation could catch up, but it seems your fawning tactic of remaining calm and quiet wasn’t working out for you now. At least you took the attention off those poor girls in the lobby who were in near hysterics. 

Only now it seemed you’d taken on the role yourself, back here. You try to breathe deep, drop your shoulders, drop your jaw. You’d think this would double to avoid showing any fear that your captors can use against you, but it’s honestly just to help keep you grounded and not panic and curb the intense need to vomit or cry.

Please. As if you’d even call yourself heroic for pulling the theft alarm– but you suppose it’s instincts. Carry-over bravery: osmosis you assume, from hanging around these heroes. Your hero. Katsuki.

You’re stunned– you’re shocked– and you’re scared. 

Katsuki. You want Katsuki. More than the police, more than your mom. 

You want your hero to come for you, over any other in this entire country. The name pounds behind your eyes when you shut them against a wave of pain, the person you want more than anything else in the world.

–And at the same time, that man’s name hurts at the cry for it: given he hasn’t spared you more than a one or two word response in days. Because he’s overworked by his own volition. By his own drive. And you should be angry. You have been, for this is the longest you haven’t seen each other outside of a trip; considering you’ve all but committed your lives together and he’s typically at your place every other night, the drop in communication is a cold bath.

And you’re scared now- it’s a blurry feeling. Time is wonky when you’re stuck in a room with no windows, no visible clock and just waiting. All those tips they tell you about how to react in an emergency to keep calm? The ones you’ve heard over and over again in security briefings and teacher preparedness days before the school year starts? Man, is it easy for those to go out the window when you’re in actual trouble.

You just want Katsuki. And that’s a silly thought, considering how wide the city is. He could be clear across the district right now.

But just saying the name -thinking of any other pleasant time when he had his arms around you play-fighting that could make these bindings feel more bearable- that’s what you want to cling to.

The villains here are pretty pathetic as interrogators go, but that spares you no calm as they taunt you as if you were a captured magistrate or politician. They’re split into two parties; their head honcho trying to tap into the databanks of the servers two doors down while your immediate captors with the creepy quirks are choosing to go through your recovered phone seeking out blackmail like the assholes they are. Your primary apps for insurance and paying your bills are thumbprint protected, so really what could they get to that's confidential? Nothing, to your knowledge. But it seems your camera roll strikes their interest. 

Oh yeah, they hit low. They see your lock screen first- a sweet photo of your harmless, dopey dog who they snark that you won’t be home to feed on time. Then even more, as your home screen displays a picture-perfect selfie of you and your darling man. You picked it because it’s rare proof of him smiling at some wisecrack you made before snapping the shutter.

Your handsome and infuriatingly busy man. 

“Aww, well just look at little miss hero’s cute lil boyfriend! Bet he’ll be awful proud of you playing the savior~”

“Tehehe, too little too late though, yeah? Gotta be quicker than that for us.”

“Geez, how sappy can you get. This guy’s all over her…and can’t blame him, honestly. Makes me feel a little bad for roughing such a pretty thing up.~”

Gross. Just gross. You act like you don’t listen, your simpering pain turns to nausea the more they talk. Until a renewed sense of fear hits:

“Wait- go back. Oh. Ohhh shit, no.”

“Whuh.”

“Fuck, man, that’s DYNAMIGHT!!” the jerk with the copious amounts of tattoos and chains draping off his arms like whips gets nervous real fast, “We have Dynamight’s girlfriend!!”

Your other guard seems to swallow for a split second, but immediately tips to a feigned dominance,

“Well, ain’t that just icing on the cake~”

“THE HELL DO YOU MEAN? He’s gonna come after her!! You know how scary that guy is?! I’m telling the boss-”

“Don’t wimp out already,” he fires back. “Why do that and waste time- when knowing this, we could get paid double? Heroes ransoms can cost him a pretty penny, and you know he’ll do it for her. Those heroes make bank.”

You flatten your brows angrily. 

“Whaddya think, princess? Big man gonna come and save you, huh?  

You really want Katsuki. But you truly have no idea if he’d know or care to come at this point. The spiral downwards in the mind is dizzying along with your headache, and just makes your heart sick for him. 

When you see him next, you’re not sure if you’d hug him or throttle him. Though now, you just wanna see him. 

“Unless.. He doesn’t!” his mood shifts- patronizing, “Too busy makin’ a paycheck and name for himself and all his hero buddies than to settle down and think about the pretty thing at home? Well, I would fix that real quick–”

A muffled boom sounds on your right. Rooms away.

Another, louder. Two beats after, the guards look at each other.

You hear a yell, a harsh one, then another blast that sounds cracklier than the rest. Someone’s close. But you’re honestly not sure if it’s friend or foe.

You’re excited, but get nervous again when the lackeys move into action. Chains loops a rough swing of his appendages around you and starts dragging you back into the adjoining office, while the muscle goes back to type at one of their private laptops that’s downloading something.

You give off a flare of panic in your voice- a sound you hate but can’t control. 

“It’s-s not him–” you force your pitch lower, but it shakes despite your best effort. “Cmon, there’s too many heroes, s’not gonna be him–  n’there gonna come an’- bust yall anyway!! Whaddya want me for?!”

As you’re dragged, you catch a glimpse of shine from above you. In the vent, you see mustard yellow and teal saturated with shadow- all metal. Then, his voice, through a comm on his wrist that flashes in the reflected light:

“Got her. Light it up, on your left.” 

Both lackeys drop what they’re doing and look up to see the vent kicked into the floor– and the wall totally blown in from your right. 

Dynamight -the Symbol of Victory- and Deku -the Symbol of Peace- are dropping in at breakneck speed, though the former is out for blood.

“ALRIGHT, WHICH ONE OF YOU FUCKERS AM I KILLING FIRST??”

Deku’s landing creates a decent wind with his jump, revealing Bakugou behind where the door usually is, and clocking your position almost immediately. 

It’s a powerful thing, to see him in action- you’ve certainly never seen it in person, and you’ve never heard him this mad. To his credit, he never raises his voice enough for you to fear it.

He spots you and the guy who rushes him, but just snarls, evades his whip of weighted chains entirely, grabs him by the calf, and chucks him into the opposing wall with a spinning throw. Then, he sets straight to you.

“DEKU!!” he shouts to Midoriya, “Trash, at your ten!!”

“On it!” Your angel from the ceiling ducts is currently laying into the other guy, but keeps the reeling villain in his sights before he can get up and strike again. You imagine the sucker has more than a few broken bones (or truly is dead, as promised)… he doesn’t move from his figure on the floor.

While you’re still coughing up a storm from the drywall throwing dust everywhere, Bakugou comes to your side and immediately picks your bound body up in a rush from the chair you were perched on.

“C’mere you-” 

He sounds rushed and spent, huffs it out of the room and into a separate office down the hall. 

You spot Ingenium and Creati moving on to the other end of the hall where you know the final villain remains, but you can already hear the squeals of said wimp once Iida bursts in. This will be quick work for the rest of them, so you weren’t worried Dynamight would be needed anymore.

Inside an executive’s office, Bakugou kicks the door behind him shut with his heel and sets you on the dearest flat surface- a decently sized desk.

“Hey you- you still with me?”

You don’t realize you’re breathing so fast until he’s looking you square in the face with split concern. It’s night and day from when he burst in after one of his more gusty explosions, his voice all cracked and high in pitch.

“Cmon, baby look at me- here, let’s get this crap off of you..”

Your gasps for air turn wet and you can’t keep yourself from crying anymore. It would be notably sweet that he still tries his hardest not to curse wildly around you, but right now you don’t care what font his expletives are in. Every bit of stress leaving your body all at once is a rush for your senses and your emotions.

“Kats~”

After his pocketed knife’s quick, careful work separating your arms from your waistline covered in a still-sticky webbing, he sheaths the blade again and collects you up when you launch yourself at him. 

Bakugou holds you hard and fast and you can’t even be bothered to worry about how his shoulder pauldrons are nearly choking you. He’s got you back in his arms, and he’s just saved your life.

“I’m here,” he grunts to you, relieved beyond measure, “I’m here, sweet’eart. You’re safe.”

You’re so thankful. You’re so happy-

“N’d I am so sorry.

-You’re so confused.

In a flippy tone that betrays what heightened nerves you’d just gone through, you ask, 

“Huh?”

Bakugou’s fingers thread into your hair when you try and pull back-

“Don’t. S’the first.” His iron-sure voice wavers, “I- I haven't hugged you all week.”

Then, you’re both crying into each other, and it’s a healing thing. 

Dragging careful nails across the back of his hero suit, you try to offer a tiny bit of comfort to this mass of man cradling you on this desk. You know you’re still in dire need to talk about his recent absence, but what a reunion this was. Feeling him after a seven or eight day stretch of near radio silence changes the degree of flame you hold against him. Honestly now, you’re in the mind to think he deserves a pass entirely. 

Bakugou finally lifts enough to press a kiss to your head, but makes no move to let go of you. “I’ve missed you, baby.”

Has he? He’s barely texted you past the ‘I’m heading out’ and ‘I’ve gotta sleep’ with no room to offer or reciprocate any form of love between you; so much so, it threatened to make you doubt. 

“Have you? I haven’t heard.”

“No, you haven’t. And that’s all on me.”

You turn your head very slowly- your entire neck is still tender, but you'd rather listen to him with an ear to his chest, where you belong. 

“I’ve missed you too,” you settle on the truth. You might have more to say when you’re not so exhausted, but the truth is you’ll still love him no matter what, and you do always miss him.

You miss every moment, big and small. His wins and losses. Nights where he’s high off a victory or the ones where he’s bone-tired and in his head about how weak he must seem. Nights where he takes out his hearing aids and just wants to fall into your silence to sleep safely, and the mornings where he’s up and ready to go take on the day after he has your kiss and hug to charge him up. Whether he has your chapstick smeared up on his cheek, or the promise of your arms to hold him in whatever state he greets you when he comes home, you just miss him. You notice when he’s not there. The house seeks him out, with lights on for him to find his way inside, and low music to soothe what anger might have followed him home.

You take a few moments to just soak each other in. You hope and pray he’ll come home with you after this.

And thank the Maker, your prayers might just be answered.

“This was a wake-up call, sweetheart.” Bakugou sounds a bit bolder, but still talks softly to you and the dust mites around you, “I’m takin’ a leave. A long one.”

The way he promises time off is something he’s toyed with before, but never followed through on.

“You can’t do that, Kats,” there’s no coldness to the words, but you mean it.

“Yes I can. It’s my race; I can step away.”

You sigh against his pec, “I’m.. I’m not asking you to. I can’t, that wouldn’t be fair.”

To you, sure. But not for his dream. Not the dream he’s worked and fought and lived for since before you met, and long before he fell in love with you. You’d supported him in this chase to save everyone and be the best at what he does from day 1, and you’ve never wavered on that– you still wouldn’t, even if someone asked you now feeling as dejected as you do by his absences–

“Tch. Y’know what's not fair?”

Bakugou finally loosens his grip on you to lift your chin up to him with thick, strong fingers, 

“Leavin’ you for days on end; waiting up, worried sick. Leaving, and just assuming you’ll still be there when I get back. And now you’re getting fuckin’ snatched the minute I turn my back on what we have. That isn’t right.”

The correlation is irrational- this incident today was a freak accident. You couldn’t have planned it- or certainly hope that your identity as his significant other is not going to be weaponized. Shuffle in the hallway beyond tells you that the possibility of that information leaking is sufficiently locked up along with them. 

Surely Izuku would have grabbed your phone– and maybe set you up a new lock screen with a mean mug to poke some fun at ‘Kacchan’.

You slump against him, at the sound that he’s being too hard on himself, and that’s not what you want for him either.

“I just miss you, Katsuki. And I want to see you succeed.” you study the bold ‘X’ across his chest with fondness and heartache mixed, “I want both those things. I just can’t help but wonder if you have to go at it so fast? And so hard, where I never see you? Like you’re racing against the clock to be #1? I just want you there in one piece; I don’t care how long it takes.”

You have no doubt he’s going to land the spot before he’s thirty. You just hope for a balanced ascension to the height of his power and ability. And selfishly… you hope you’re in the picture of his life when he does.

Bakugou hears and you do believe he listens, as he smooths a calming hand up and down your arm all the while.

“And today..” you clam up a bit with an uncontrollable shake, “Today was- scary. But you couldn’t help that. Any more that you can help it from happening t’ anyone. I know that,”

And you look up at him despite the burn it causes you. And -a funny contrast to your still teary eyes- you smile.

“-but you did save me. And that was- honestly one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen in my life.”

The comment strikes him as funny, too, since he gives a little chuckle.

“Me blastin’ in and causing you to choke on my smoke?”

You nodded briefly.

“Kinda hot, all things considered.”

Unbelievable, his headshake and eyeroll at how easily you can -and will- make jokes. Perhaps it is the shock still, deflecting with humor. 

You do realize how fragile it is because when you laugh at the absurdity, you catch his eye again and you look just a little too long before you’re sniffling. 

The reality is that you could lose him at any time: whether by his end or yours. He’s got the more dangerous job by far, but if today was any indication on your part, you shouldn’t just think yourself as a shoe-in for safety.

Bakugou cups your face in his hands to make himself perfectly clear.

“You’re the hero today, angel. Watched you in 16-bit as you snuck back there, taking that bastard into next week. You saved every- single- one of them.” he placed a kiss on each word as he praised you. “I am so damn proud of you.”

Your hands still skipped, limbs jumpy. 

“I don’t feel like a hero.”

His lashes lured you in as he gazed at you through them, “Doesn’t mean you aren’t one. You did it scared. That’s pretty hot, too.”

You huffed your amusement as he thanked you in his own way. Best to let him carry on before he’s whisked away again. 

Just as you thought he might release you in ushering you out of the office, Bakugou takes you by the hands so that you can stand, then keeps you in place by his immovable stance.

“Things are gonna change,” he vows, “because none of this shit matters if I don’t have you. Yeah I want you now, but I’m gonna want you after my fire’s burnt out. Which means, I gotta pay attention. I have to set ‘who matters’ just as high as ‘what matters’ and remember why.”

Touched by every word, your trembling lessens. You take in his warmth and his care and his explosive loyalty with confidence and nod in agreement.

Taking one last selfish hug, you sink into your hero again, standing more as equals than you usually feel being held by him. He’s lifted you up in more ways than one. Enough to let safety back into your heart, enough to tease,

“That can’t be your line. When did ‘Zuzu’ give you that one?”

“Hey,” Bakugou flicked you in the temple lightly, “I can be nice too, dammit.”

“Sure you can,” you kiss the dip of his neck in apology.

“You’re just always nice, you can’t appreciate the difference.” he pouts, taking your hand and leading you out of the office.

“...Sure I can.”

You have to give him a solid shot– he’s nothing if not insistent with what he wants.

Outside the room, there are a host of officers, photographers, medics and heroes aiding in the recovery efforts, so you relax your hand in his to let go,

–only he doesn’t let you.

Bakugou glances to you, “You’re in shock, extra. You need to get checked out.”

“I’m fine, Mr. Dynamight,” you chortle with a little head bobble like you would have normally done, only now the movement makes you wince.

“That’s what I thought. OI, Deku- where’s her sh-phone?”

The iron hero stands with the receptionists, looks to you both and smiles gratefully, before nodding off to his company and joins you-

“This, I believe, belongs to you, maam~” he perks up as he comes around to your other side. It’s not so much that you have to pretend to be strangers, but in this high-traffic place, it seems easier to fall into roles of ‘heroes’ and ‘thankful public’.

“How kind, Mr. Symbol of Peace~ I’d be missing this!”

Double checking your lock screen, he did -in fact- change your cover screen to a playful selfie: pointing at the crumbled remains of the wall they’d broken into, with the caption:

>>Whatever Kacchan wants, Kacchan gets <3<<

Muting your laugh, you simply tilt your phone Bakugou’s way and catch Midoriya’s quick wink back to you, before he sets off running with a screaming boyfriend sprinting after him.

At least Katsuki showed up back at your place at 6:30PM on the dot, fixed you both a salmon dinner, and started getting your baseline of support back on track. With his next two weeks off and barely keeping his hands off of you so far, you believed he was making good on remembering his why.

[aspen-charminghearts]

The Clingy GlassHeart Girlfriends:

[Middle of GlassHeart debate about neediness]

Red: I am not needy!

Chloe: . . .

Still Chloe: . . .

Absolutely still Chloe: . . .

Chloe, sighing: Red you are the definition of needy, you once woke me up in the middle of the night at 2:36 AM when we were CUDDLING and SLEEPING IN THE SAME BED to make sure we were still dating.

_Two Days Earlier_

Red sleeping during her midday nap:

Chloe, gently shaking her awake: Hey Red, could you please wake up love?

Red, sleepily: Hm? What is it Bluely?

Chloe a little jittery: Could you please get up and go with me to this social gathering with my friends, I’m feeling to anxious to go without you right now.

Red, still very sleepily staring at her: . . .

Chloe, pulling out the puppy eyes: Pleaseeeeeeee

Red waking up a bit more: Fine! Just 5 more minutes.

Chloe: But Red, I want you awake now!

Red: If you want time with me before you see your friends, cuddle with me or suffer. [Immediately falls back to sleep]

[luveline]

hey!! I'd love to see one where maybe jack and hotch try speaking to the baby in pregnant!reader's tummy :))

thank you for requesting! fem, 1k

You sniff Aaron’s hair. It’s your right as his wife to enjoy his smells. You’re too tired for subtlety. “You know how many weeks I am today?” you ask. 

You’re in a bubble together. Aaron answers with his usual calm tenor. “You are twenty seven weeks today, honey.” 

It’s endearing that he knows. It’s nice to have found a good one. To never have to worry about compassion or care. Which isn’t to say he’s perfect, he makes wrong decisions, and he disappoints you sometimes, but still, he’s a good one. You aren’t perfect either and you don’t have to be, all you need to do is love and respect one another as much as is physically possible, and you do.  

“Mm,” you hum, drawing a heart into his arm, “and you know what they say around this time?” 

“I’m not sure.” 

“She can hear you, if you want to talk to her.” 

“Really?” 

“That’s what I read earlier on. That if you talk to her through my stomach, she can probably hear your voice. By full term she’ll have hearing like me and you.” 

“Is that true?” he asks, resting his hand on your bump. Sometimes when the baby is in a bad mood and her foot feels like it’s making a bruise through your skin, all Aaron has to do is touch you, and she stops. 

“Well, according to the baby book. They say by twenty nine weeks it’s a sure thing.” 

“Can I speak to her?” 

You brush through his hair with your pinky nail. “Sure, sweetheart. You can talk to her all night long, I’m sure she’d love to hear your voice.” You push the hair from his forehead. “I like hearing you talk.” 

“Lay back,” he says. 

Aaron sits up and you lay down, your head in the pillows, your pregnancy cushion a support on your left side. He slides your t-shirt up slowly as though giving you time to say no. He begins to rub slow circles around the bump, before laying his head flat to he bed, his lip less than two inches from your distended tummy. 

“Hi, baby,” he says, unabashed. “How are you feeling?” 

You laugh. He peeks up at you. 

“Sorry, it’s just funny.” 

“It’s okay. I’d laugh if you started asking my stomach questions too…” He smiles. “But my baby’s in there, so you’ll have to forgive me.” 

“I won’t laugh again, promise.” 

“It’s fine if you do. I’m finding it hard to take myself seriously.” He slows his rubbing. “Baby, if you can hear me, please say hi… I love you. I’m so happy you’re getting bigger.” 

The longer he talks, the less funny it becomes. His melodic murmuring turns praising, he talks of you and Jack and every amazing thing waiting for the baby in the world when she’s done cooking. He tells her he loves her, loves you, that she’s beautiful even though she’s shaped like a GMO kidney bean. He’s totally relaxed. You fall in love with him all over again. 

“And it looks like your big brother wants to say hi too,” he says. 

You perk up. Footsteps rush down the hall to the master bedroom, and a knock echoes fast. Jack doesn’t wait for an answer, bursting in with a happy gasp. “I knew you were still awake,” he says. “Please can I come watch TV with you?” 

“Sure, buddy, but we aren’t watching anything right now,” Aaron says. 

“What are you doing?” 

“I’m talking to your sister.” 

Jack leans against the bed, fingers screwing in Aaron’s shirt unthinkingly. “You are?” 

“I read in my book today that she can maybe hear you when you talk to her,” you tell him. “Would you want to talk to her, bud?” 

“Can I?” 

“Sure. I don’t mind. I’d love for you to say hello, ‘cos how special is that? For the last few weeks, all she’s been able to hear is me. She doesn’t know she has a whole family waiting for her.” 

Aaron straightens and helps Jack climb onto the bed. He settles at the pillows with you, leaning down briefly to kiss you, lips misaligned but no less gentle. 

“What do I say?” Jack whispers, putting his hand carefully on your bump. 

“You can say anything you want,” you whisper back. “You can say hi, or you can tell her something. The best thing about babies is that we get to teach them about everything.” 

“Okay, um… well,” —he braces himself with two hands on your tummy and leans in— “you can’t see, but we have a dad with brown hair and brown eyes, and we have a super pretty mommy who smiles all the time at me…” Jack’s cheek tips toward his shoulder. “On Sunday they take me to the library and we stay there all morning. And for dinner we always have, um, one hand of vegetables and one hand of chicken, or pork, or pasta. But it’s okay if you can’t finish everything.” 

He looks at his father. “Is that okay?” he asks. 

Aaron offers his hand. “Buddy, that’s perfect. You can tell her anything that you want. She just wants to hear your voice.” 

“Can I tell her about teenage mutant ninja turtles?” 

You laugh. “Sure,” Aaron says. 

Jack starts to talk about Donatello. You try not to laugh as his little hands tickle you, turning your face into Aaron’s side. 

“I have so many things to say to you right now, but I’m worried it’s too saccharine,” he says. 

“Save them for later,” you say, hugging his waist. “Can I nap here? Would you rub my arm?” 

Aaron rubs your arm as you’ve asked. You fall asleep to the sound of your stepsons mumbled rambling and Aaron’s occasional breathy laugh. 

[stevesgother]

Dress - S.H

Paring - Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

WC - 1.5k

Summary - 2 times Steve Harrington has lost his mind seeing you in a dress that fits you like skin, and the one time he does something about it.

Contains - best friends to lovers, mutual pining, reader is pathetically in love, loosely based off of ‘Dress’ by Taylor Swift. Or maybe heavily based lol

Warnings - steve & reader ARE 18 in this, they just haven’t graduated yet, drinking, vomit. As always, let me know if I missed anything

AN - THIS IS PART 1 OF A WIP. second fic…ever! also my first mini series! i was gonna make it all one fic but i figured it would be easier to digest this way. enjoy :)

Senior Prom - May 1985

Michael Cooper. That’s who was waiting for you downstairs in your foyer, sweet talking your parents while he waited to escort you to your final high school dance. He wasn’t your first choice for your senior prom, hardly even your second; but he was respectable enough for you to be seen on his arm for one night.

Taking one last look at yourself in your vanity mirror, you smoothed your hands down the front of your dress. It was a beautiful baby pink ball gown with lace trim and puffy sleeves. Before you can think better of it, before you can feel guilty for it, you imagine Steve’s reaction when he sees you tonight.

Steve Harrington. Your best friend since diapers. Your mothers grew up together, so naturally when they found out they were pregnant at nearly the exact same time, it only made sense that they would orchestrate your friendship immediately.

As it turns out, not much orchestrating would be required. The second your little baby brains could comprehend what it meant to love another person, the rest was history. Wherever you went, Steve went too. You’re not sure when your feelings for him started to change. The usual calm that washed over you whenever you were in his presence one day seemed to transform into something different. You felt nervous, like someone had released a net of butterflies into your stomach.

You clear your head with a harsh shake and grab your clutch off the bed, making your way downstairs. Michael is waiting for you with a green corsage in a shiny translucent box. ‘That's Sweet,’ you think, “if only it matched my dress.’ 

–

Upon arriving at the gym, the first thing you do, consciously or not, is scan the room for your best friend. You spot him quickly, his perfectly manicured hair and well-pressed suit making him hard to miss. Even harder to miss is the gorgeous, curly haired brunette resting her head on his shoulder.

Nancy Wheeler.

They’ve been together for over a year at this point, even joining your close knit circle of friends. Despite this, you can’t help the nagging sense of jealousy stabbing at your chest, making your face heat up. You tell yourself it’s the humidity inside the gymnasium, and not the fact that you’d give anything to be in her position. You quickly abandon your date and try not to feel guilty for it, making your way over to the happy couple.

“Steve!” You call as you come further into their line of sight.

“Hey you!” Steve stands and gives you a tight hug. “Hey!’ you greet, returning the embrace. He can’t help the way his eyes quickly travel down the expanse of you, noticing the shape this dress gives your body. He prays to any listening God that his girlfriend didn’t notice, that you didn’t notice. “Hey Nance.” You address her with a polite smile. She gives you a hug without warning. Another thing that irks you about Nancy Wheeler: that girl is impossible to hate. You have every reason to despise her, and yet you can’t. She’s kind, funny, strong-willed and beautiful. She’s so ‘girl next door’, she’s so…not you. Occasionally you’ve wondered if it’s a front, that she can’t possibly be that perfect.

“Where’s Michael?” She asks inquisitively; like she genuinely cares where your douchebag date has run off to. A quick scan of the room reveals he’s already talking up another girl by the photobooth. There’s not one part of you that gives a shit. “We were just thinking about grabbing some food, wanna come with?” Steve nods his head toward the various appetizers they have set up on tables decorated with gaudy tinsel and tablecloths. “Yeah, why not?”, you smile and it doesn’t reach your eyes.

–

An hour and 2 cups of spiked punch later, ‘Heaven’ by Bryan Adams starts to play and you feel like you might hurl. Nancy’s face quickly lights up and she gives her date a knowing look, “Steve! Let's dance! Please??”. She’s immediately pulling him away from the table where you’ve been watching them flirt all night. Her delicate hand resting on his bicep, his large one finding a home on her thigh. He sends you a sympathetic look as he rises; sorry that he has to leave you there, sorry that you won’t be slow dancing with anyone tonight. He has no idea.

Your date is long gone. The two of you going together was a ticket inside and nothing more.

The air in the gym is suffocating and frankly smells of sweaty basketball shorts, so you decide to make your way outside for some fresh air. The romantic serenade of Bryan Adams’ voice is nothing more than a quiet lullaby as you lean against the brick wall of your high school.

You hear him before you see him. “Hey stranger,” the open door momentarily lets the humidity escape and you feel it wash over your skin. “you alright?” he asks with a half smile.

“Yeah just,” you say looking around, “getting some air is all,” returning the expression. He imitates you and decides to lean on the wall, a little too close for comfort. You’re all but slapped across the face with his scent. Cinnamon, a no doubt expensive musky cologne, and sweat. You can feel him looking at you, so you decide to meet his gaze; praying that he can’t see the crimson shade of red creeping up your neck and cheeks simply from standing next to him. You feel so pathetic at times like these. 

“Nance found a couple of her girlfriends, figured it’d be a good time for a smoke.” He pulls a cigarette out of his suit jacket pocket, and lights it. His hand cupped to cover the breeze.

“Those’ll kill ya, you know?” you smirk, knowing. You’ve always teased him for his bad habits, especially this one. “Yeah well,” he says in an inhale, “now’s as good a’ time as any, right?”

He grins at you, smug. It sends you reeling and you hope your thundering heartbeat doesn’t give you away. Maybe it’s just the alcohol.

After a few minutes of silence, he stomps his cigarette out on the pavement and turns to fully face you. 

“You’re beautiful, you know that?”

His words steal the breath from your lungs and your breath hitches in your throat.  Steve’s complimented you before, thousands of times. So why does this feel like you’ve just been slammed into a wall of concrete?

“Steve…”

You feel like he’s getting closer. You’ve definitely had too much to drink.

Before you can stop yourself or even comprehend what’s happening, you vomit all the contents of your stomach directly onto Steve’s perfectly polished loafers. He yelps, most in surprise, slightly in horror. Despite that undeniable foulness of the situation, his hands immediately move to hold your hair back, just in case you aren’t, well, finished. 

You don’t realize it, but you’ve started crying. “Hey, hey, it’s alright. You’re okay,” he soothes, rubbing a hand up and down your back. “Let’s get you home, yeah?” He starts to lead you to his car in the parking lot, leaving you here alone not an option for him. “What about Nancy?” you sob, “I’ll come back and get her, honey. Don’t worry.” Honey. You almost puke again.

Once he settles you into the passenger seat of his pristine BMW, you watch as he toes off his shoes and throws them in the garbage. When he slides into the driver's seat and turns on the ignition, he turns and brings a palm up to cradle your jaw. “Guess I’m gonna have to keep an eye on ya next time,” he chuckles, “can’t handle your mildly spiked punch.” You groan, but give a breathy chuckle of your own, “Just drive, Harrington.”

When you arrive home, you breathe a sigh of relief at the lack of your family car in the driveway. Your mother would certainly pitch a fit if she saw you like this - mascara streaked down your face, an obnoxious yellow stain down the front of your once flawless dress. Steve leads you upstairs with a hand on the small of your back, and a palm cradling your elbow. You know you’re not drunk, and you’re almost positive that wasn’t the reason you spilled your guts. But the alternative to just letting Steve take care of you would be admitting that you love him, that you’re in love with him.

You don’t bother taking your makeup off, Steve just helps you change into an old t-shirt and a pair of sleep shorts. “Lights on or off?” He asks as he pulls the covers up and over you, “Off, please.” he gives you a little two-finger salute, “you got it.” Just as he’s reaching underneath your lamp shade you whisper, “Steve?” he looks, “yeah trouble?” “I’m sorry for ruining your night…and throwing up on your shoes.” you give a sheepish look. Even though he would have every right to be, you know he’s not mad at you.

“You didn’t ruin anything,” he leans down and presses a kiss to the crown of your head,”the shoes we can discuss at a later date,” he shoots you a wink, making sure you know he’s only teasing.

“Thank you, Steve.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

Without another word he closes the bedroom door, bathing you in darkness. Just before you succumb to sleep, you’re filled with dread at the thought that you’re gonna remember this in the morning.

Cheers to senior year.

[trippinsorrows]

without you + three

authors note: welp. the ball is, gradually, rolling.

do not read this story if you haven’t read ’with me’. it won’t work as a standalone.

warnings: none

song inspo: be without you by mary j. blige

one + two

words: 4k

“I’ve been thinking.”

“That’s never a good thing.” Removing your eyes from the book in hand, you glare and flip your soon to be ex-fiance off if he keeps playing with you like this. 

Of course, he simply laughs as you shove on Joe’s shoulder.. “I’m serious.”

His hand moves to your stomach, rubbing a circle as he beckons, “tell me.”

Using the bookmark on the comforter, you stick it in the page you’re on and lay it against the side of you. ���I think we should take Callie back so she can have her graduation.”

Joe looks over at you, brows furrowed. “I thought we were just going to do something here?”

“I know, and I think we still can, but I don’t want to take that from her. She was really excited about graduating.” It’s something you’ve been thinking about a lot, both as a teacher and a mom. It’s so important for children to feel and be able to celebrate their accomplishments. Sure, it’s only preschool, but it’s still a big deal for her.

You want her to be able to celebrate with her ‘classmates.’

And you express as such.

“She should be able to celebrate with the other kids. Plus, and I know right now, she’s still excited about them, but I don’t know, something tells me she’s going to struggle with some form of jealousy when the babies get here.”

Joe nods, not necessarily disagreeing with you. “But, that’s not entirely abnormal, right?”

“No, doesn’t mean it’ll be any easier to deal with though.” Frowning, it’s only now you also think about how that might be for you as well. For almost five years, you’ve been able to devote all of your time and attention onto one child. 

Now, it’s about to be four.

“Hey.” Joe, forever adept at reading you, brings his hand to your chin, forcing your gaze to land on him. “We’ll handle it together, alright?”

His words, as per usual, comfort you greatly. “You’re right.” His thumb flicks your chin, as you chuckle. “It’s probably good her little spoiled self is spending all this time with you now. Before she has to share you.”

His scowl makes you snort as he drops his hand back to your ever growing belly. “She’s not spoiled.”

“Joe, as the kids say, be so fucking for real.”

“What?”

Ignoring the fact that this man literally probably still has an AOL email with out of touch he is, you continue with your very valid point. “That little girl is spoiled rotten. You give her whatever she wants.”

“She doesn’t ask for much.”

“Not you being in straight up denial.” He’s so down bad for Callie Bear. It’s not even funny. “Need I remind you of her little tantrum two weeks ago? Baby, the way you folded so quickly should have been recorded. Tribal Chief, my ass. Got taken down by a four year old.”

Joe shoves you gently. “Shut up.”

Laughing, you continue, “just admit it, she has you wrapped around her lil’ finger, and she knows it. That’s why she tried you the way she did, but I mean it, next time it happens, and it will, set her little butt straight. She can take it.”

Joe’s frown doesn’t make it any easier for you to hold in your laughter. “I don’t like being mean to her.”

“It’s not being mean, baby. It’s being a parent. As much as she loves to play with you like you’re one of her little friends, you’re not. You’re her dad. She needs to respect you as such.”

“She does,” he defends, and you sigh, knowing this is probably just a battle you won’t win. Quieting down, you decide to switch topics to something you’ve been thinking more about as you prepare for the arrival of your children.

“I’m gonna tell her, you know. When she gets older, that I’m the reason you weren’t there the first few years of her life.”

Joe sits up in the bed, removing his hand from your stomach, concern evident all over his handsome face. “Y/N—”

You lift your hand to silence him. “No, she’s going to eventually ask, and I’m not going to lie to her. Whatever anger she feels would be justified, and I’ll handle it.” 

You’ve thought about this more and more as you progress with your pregnancy. The fact that these babies will get to experience Joe from day one when Callie didn’t. There’s undeniable unfairness, and should she ever want to know just why Joe was MIA at the beginning, you will be honest with her.

You’ll make sure she knows that it was you who decided to keep her a secret from her father. How specific you’ll get will depend on her age, but you’re not a fan of lying to and holding secrets from kids when it directly impacts them.

You know firsthand how thinking your dad didn’t want to be around can fuck with someone’s mental.

You won’t let that be the case with Callie.

Joe looks just as bothered, like he doesn’t want you doing anything that could impact how Callie sees you. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Oh, but I do and will, baby.” You place your hand to his cheek, his beard a little more outgrown and slightly unkempt as he truly relaxes in the embrace of vacation. “Because that’s one thing I never did and would never do. I never let anyone say any disrespectful shit about you not being in Callie’s life. Amir would try it a lot, and I shot him down every time.”

The mention of Amir brings a scowl to Joe’s handsome face. It’s a bit of a distraction technique you’re grateful worked. This will also be a revisited topic over the years, clearly. “I don’t know what the fuck you saw in him.”

Small smile on your face, you shrug, “he’s not ugly, and his dick was decent.” And before he can say anything smug and smart, “yours is better, duh. Why you think I’m giving you all these kids, huh?” He smiles and shakes his head. “You gotta have God tier dick for me to push out not one but gonna be four of your big headed ass children. Boy, I wish you would try to leave me. You gon be wrestling into your eighties with how much I’ll come for you in child support.”

He rolls his eyes and kisses your temple, “you know I’m not going anywhere and neither are you.”

“Of course not, who the hell is gonna want me with all these damn kids?” The topic at hand reminds you of the book on the side of your bed, the previous reason you two were taking a break from figuring out your approach for letting friends and family know about the courthouse wedding. “Now, we really need to start deciding on names. I’m almost five months.” Pretty soon you’ll be finding out the sexes of the babies. It’s crazy to you how quickly this pregnancy is passing by, most likely due to the happiness you feel. 

Time flies when life is good. 

“Did you get Callie’s list?” 

He curses. “Shit, I forgot.”

You wave him off. “No worries.” Sitting further up in bed, you shout out, “Callie Bear! Bring us your list for baby names!” 

She doesn’t say anything, and you start to try again when she comes running into the room, Disney notebook in one hand and her American Doll in the other. She doesn’t hesitate to climb onto the bed and sit on her knees at the end, “here you go, mommy!”

You accept her notebook that’s already opened to her list of potential baby names that she came up with. “Thank you, baby.” Callie switches to sitting with her legs crossed, her doll that looks just like her, courtesy of her rich ass daddy, smack dab in the middle. “Let’s see.”

A smile falls on your face as you share the notebook with Joe, pointing out the first name that he also smiles at. 

“Moana.” Predictable. So predictable. “Maui. Hei Hei. Tamatoa.” Joe coughs beside you to clearly hold in his laugh. “Baby….are these all names from Moana?”

Callie nods happily. “And Toy Story and Encanto and The Little Mermaid,” she essentially continues to sing-song list off damn near every Disney movie ever created. “The babies have to like Disney too, mommy! Like me, you, and Grandma.”

“You’re so right.” To be fair, you really shouldn’t have expected too much more. She is one Disney loving kid, through and through. “Well, thank you so much for the list, Callie Bear.”

“Daddy, did you make a list?” She asks, head tilted as she gently caresses the top of her doll’s head.

“Not yet, baby. Mommy and I are gonna make one together.” 

“I like baby Moana.” 

He chuckles. “But you’re our little Moana.”

She pouts and corrects, “no, I’m Callie.” Her sass makes you laugh. Joe wasn’t entirely wrong. She really is a lot like you sometimes. “I want a baby sister named Moana.”

“What if they’re all boys?”

You and Callie have similar reactions. It’s just that yours is one of horror and hers is more of shock.

“Noooo, I want a little sister.” 

Adding onto Callie’s vehement protest, you make your own strong thoughts and feelings known. “And I am not pushing out three boys at once, Joe. You done lost your god—”

“What do you want for your birthday, Callie Bear?” You’re partially thankful for the save but also irritated he’s asking this question he already knows is gonna generate a wild ass answer.

“A puppy!”

See.

You do your best to use the perfect combination of understanding yet assertiveness. “Baby, we done had this conversation before, we are not getting a puppy until you’re at least ten.”

“But, I’ll be old!”

“Exactly, old enough to take care of a puppy.” One look at Joe, and you can see he’s about to open his mouth and probably find some reason to ‘agree’ with or at least defend Callie’s request. “Absolutely not. No dog until she’s older, and that’s final.”

Callie, understandably, does not agree nor like this rule, and it’s evident in her deep pout and the way she crosses her arms over her little body. “Not fair.”

“Life ain’t fair, buttercup.” You retort, quickly reminding her as you take in her appearance. “Speaking of, it’s almost time for your wash day….”

The infamous, dreaded day of nonstop hair washing and styling is enough to wipe her smile away and award her a brand new reason to start whining, “I don’t want to.”

The feeling is mutual. “Neither does mommy, but we gotta do it eventually, Callie Bear.” Looking over at Joe, you inform him, “and you will be present for this ordeal, sir, so you can learn how to do her hair for me.”

He looks confused, nose turned up. A chuckle is withheld at how much he and his daughter mimic each other in this situation. “Baby, I don’t know how to do hair.”

Sucking your teeth, you smartly point out, “you do your own!”

“I barely do anything with my hair. You know this.” 

Damn. He’s right. Lucky ass. “Regardless, when I get too big to be bending over the sink like that, someone’s gonna have to do it.”

Of course, Joe’s smartass just decides to throw out something that should probably be discussed before saying around Callie, “I’ll take her to your mom.”

Callie’s eyes light up a bit. “Grandma!”

“Joe.” Lord, this man got too much money or something. “You seriously are going to fly our daughter out to my hometown so my mama can do her hair?”

He shrugs, clearly not seeing an issue with what’s being proposed. “Yeah.”

Rolling your eyes and shaking your head, you lean further back in the pillows of the bed. “You are too—” However, you’re cut short mid-sentence, face and chest dropping simultaneously, the change in your disposition enough to catch Joe’s attention. 

“What’s wrong?” He’s sitting up even more, expertly masking the concern that’s growing by the second. Recognizing this, you will that small smile to start forming on your face, shaking your head as you motion for him and Callie to move closer.

“Mommy?” Callie is just as confused as you reach for both her and Joe’s hands, placing them on your belly, trying to find the spot of origin. “What—”

This time, she’s the one to stop mid-sentence as she feels it, the sensation you last felt when you were pregnant with her. Callie’s face is still set with understandable confusion, but your gaze on Joe reveals minimal concern and an abundance of amazement. 

“What is that, mommy?” Callie finally asks. The emotion in your throat takes you back a bit. You’re not typically a super emotional person, but there’s something about this moment, about feeling your babies kick for the first time and being able to share it with your fiance and child that does something to you. Knocks at those pillars that hold up your resolve. 

“That’s the babies. They’re kicking.” You explain, smiling a bit as Callie looks at you in horror.

“Why are they hurting you?”

“They’re not, sweetie. That’s what babies do. As they get bigger and grow, they need to move around and sometimes kick. You did the same thing to me.” Adding some playfulness into your voice, there’s a level of relief to see she appears less concerned. 

Your attention, however, is brought back to Joe as he kisses your temple, hand still planted on your stomach, clearly soaking up every bit of this precious, cherished moment. 

“I love you,” he murmurs against your temple. It’s such a simple statement, a little three letter sentence that means more than anyone could ever understand. Moving your hand to the side of his face, you both laugh as Callie moves her face to your stomach. 

“Don’t kick mommy too much, okay, little babies?” The determination on her face should be captured and locked away for safekeeping for the rest of time. “She’s the bestest mommy ever and pretty and smart and—”

“—and still not getting you a puppy.” While your daughter is undoubtedly one of the sweetest kids you’ve ever come across, she’s also intelligent as hell. And you know her like the back of your hand. Enough to know where she’s headed with this. 

And, you’re proven correct when she rolls her eyes again, making a ‘hmmph’ sound that has Joe chuckling next to you. She then sets her little plotting sights on Joe as she takes her hand from your stomach and moves to crawl into his lap.

You have to keep yourself from rolling your own eyes as she pulls out that sickeningly sweet voice and holds onto his shirt. “Daddy?”

Joe doesn’t hesitate to answer right away. “Yes, baby?” One look at him, and you already know what the answer is going to be. This man is so weak for this little girl. It’s not even funny. 

“Hallie wants a friend…..” Joe’s eyebrows cave in confusion as he looks over at you. 

Gesturing to her American Girl doll on the edge of the bed, you fill him in, “that’s what she named the doll.” 

He chuckles, clearly amused by the name that rhymes with hers. “She does?”

Callie nods, that excitement building back up. “Two friends!”

Mouth dropping, you prepare to put this child in her place when Daddy Warbucks beats you to it, living up to his reputation.

“Well, then we need to get her two friends.”

“Yay!” Callie celebrates, hugging Joe who ignores your look of disapproval. “Can I make her friends too?” 

And once again, the first living, breathing bank to ever exist is quick to fold. “Of course, Callie Bear.”

“Yay!” She cheers yet again for another way too easy battle. It’s not even a battle at this point. Battle would mean that both parties have somewhat of a chance, and Joe is clearly putty for his little girl. “Thank you, daddy.” She seals the deal with a hug and kiss on his cheek before climbing off the bed, grabbing Hallie as she shares, “I’m gonna make them now!”

With her tablet, clearly. The tablet you’d bet any money Joe once again disabled the time limits on. 

Lord, you’re about to have five damn children to take care of at this point. 

It’s only when Callie is out of the room and on her way to celebrate yet another successful day of finessing her daddy that you punch this man in his big ass arm. 

“What?” It’s him having the audacity to sound and look confused that has you ready to kick him out of the room. 

“What do you mean what?” Angling your body more toward him, you explain, “Joe, why are you buying her more dolls? American Girl dolls, at that. I know you must have paid at least $300 for the first one you got her. I saw all them accessories.” He rolls his eyes but doesn’t deny it, because he can’t. Callie had always asked you for one, and while you could have scraped some money together to make it happen, you couldn’t come to grips with just how many other more useful things one could do with that money. “She doesn’t need them dolls, babe.”

“You gon’ let her get a puppy now?”

An easy ass answer. “Hell no.”

He has the nerve to catch a slight attitude with you as he affirms, “then she’s getting the dolls.”

Rubbing your temples, you realize this isn’t a ‘fight’ you’re not going to win. “You know what, whatever. You do what you want, but I’m telling you right now, these—” You bring his hand back to your belly. “—babies are not going to be spoiled like their big sister. They gon be like Oliver Twist and grateful for a bowl of soup.”

He moves his hand around, probably trying to see if he can feel any more movement. “Callie is grateful.”

“For now.” Not really wanting to have this circular dialogue with him, you grab your phone to see a couple missed texts but open the one from your mom first, instantly rolling your eyes. “Not this again.”

The shift in your voice catches Joe’s attention. “What?”

Shaking your head, you show him the thread, thumb right next to the link for an article on ‘melanin maternal mental health’. 

Talk about fucking alliteration. 

“I don’t know what’s been up with her lately, but she’s been sending me all these links for articles and like motivational photos about mental health and motherhood.” You explain to him, going to heart the message and send a quick response to at least show some appreciation. Because there is a little there. That your mom cares about you so much. But the concern isn’t necessarily valid or needed..

This is the happiest you’ve been in some time. A long time. If ever.

Nothing is going to change that.

Especially being a mother to three more children. 

Placing your phone back on the nightstand, a glance at Joe reveals he’s debating something. “What?”

He moves closer to you, hand pushing back some of your coils. “Been thinking about that movie thing…..”

The smile on your face grows as you move closer, eyes twinkling with all the curiosity in the world. “What did you decide?”

—------

Megan is having a wonderful day.

One of the best she’s had in a while.

Not only did she manage to wake up on time, but the coffee she ordered from this cute little cafe she found while on a business trip in Denver a couple months ago awaited her on the outside of her apartment door when she got back from her pilates class the night before.

And there’s few things she loves more than a delicious cup of morning Joe.

A smirk falls on her face as she hums “Here Comes the Bride” while engaging in her extensive shower routine, admiring the expert work of her wax lady. Body hair has always been an absolute no. But, it’s when she moves the loofah across the weight of her heavy breast that Megan imagines hands and not her loofah. Big hands that would cup her boobs roughly as he forces her to turn around, slams her up against the shower wall and fucks her hard from behind, her moans and shouts of pleasure dancing across the tile, alerting everyone of just who owns this pussy.

Hand gliding down her wet, nude body, she keeps the vision going, slender thighs clenching together at the thought of him forcing her on her knees, his dick down the back of her throat, eyes watering as he mouth fucks her.

“Joe….” Thin fingers slip past wet folds as she realizes she’s going to be a couple minutes late for work.

So worth it though. 

Because Megan hasn’t come like that in years. Her legs are practically wobbly as she finally exits the shower, bathroom mirror completely fogged to where she has to grab a towel to clear up a section so she can see herself.

The pink tinge of her cheek brings a sly smile to her face. 

“I can’t wait until we can be together, my love…” A sweep of sadness comes over her as she grabs her phone, admiring his handsome face on her lock screen and opens Apple Music to play his entrance music, selecting the repeat button before she continues with her routine. 

It takes her about the usual time.

And soon enough, Megan is out the door, having finished her delicious coffee and opted to just have a banana for breakfast. There’s no time for unnecessary caloric intake.

She has to start preparing for the wedding. 

Walking into the office, right away, she can detect the almost sullen atmosphere and does her best to match the vibe.

To play along. 

And before she can go to her office bestie, Paige, to “find out” why everything feels so off, the team is pulled in for a mandatory meeting.

Luke’s quiet demeanor does take her a bit back. He’s never quiet. She’s not complaining though. Not at all.

As soon as everyone is seated, he starts off with the general pleasantries that are weighed by the sadness in his voice. And then he gets into it. “I know some of you have heard, but for those who haven’t, I—uh—I got some bad news.” He takes a deep breath, shaking his head. “There’s uh—no way to say this, but Susan Jackson was found dead this morning.”

As an array of gasps and shocked countenances fill the room, Megan does her best to blend in, to play along with the genuine surprise of all of her coworkers.

Paige leans over to whisper to Megan, eyes also watery, “they say she killed herself. That she was found her on the sidewalk in front of her apartment building. Window was open and everything.”

Megan expertly fakes a horrified expression. “Oh my god, how heartbreaking.” She even manages to crank out some tears that don’t shed but get the job done. “I can’t believe she’s gone….”

“Megan.” She lifts her head, eyebrows also raising. “I know you worked close with Susan on a couple of clients, and you also know she was set to assist Roman Reigns on his debut film, but with Susan gone….”

Megan shakes her head, pulling out a few sniffles. “It’s okay. I’ll….I’ll do it. I’ll take Reigns as my client.”

And my husband.

Luke gives her a nod of appreciation, wiping at his eyes as he clears his throat and continues to address the room.

It takes almost everything in her not to roll her eyes. The woman was fucking fifty for crying out loud. 

She lived long enough. 

He says something about grief counseling, the suicide hotline, blah blah blah.

Megan does her best to listen but mostly tunes out the rest of the meeting. It’s irrelevant. She has what she wants. Now, it’s time to go after who she wants, the thought alone creating such an intense, euphoric feeling inside of her stomach as she casually traces the brand new tiny letter ‘J’ she now has tattooed on her ring finger.

[earth4angels]

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐲

𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: when she saw him, she was only twelve with a bag of bread crumbs for her birds in the park. she thought he was beautiful and funny, he saw the world differently and there was never a moment he didn’t show her the beauty of it , she just didn’t think just how much pain he held inside.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: character death, blood, bullying, mentions of murder, gun violence, depression, hurt & comfort. childhood friends to lovers (kinda). miscommunications.

You first met Oliver Hide on a spring day, which ended up being a gloomy day. You did not mind, you loved to take walks after school to feed the birds at the park. It was always quiet, chirping and the low sounds of the wind was all you heard so when you found a boy around your age with his knees pressed against his chest, you stopped.

To question was wrong, but you couldn’t help to wonder why was he so sad? Why was he crying? You figured it was best to leave him be, your parents taught you to never meddle into anything that didn’t concern you. This was also a stranger.

As you backtracked, the leaves announced your departure. You winced when you saw the stranger’s head snap up from the bundle of sadness to look directly at you.

You offered a small smile filled with embarrassment, “I’m sorry.”

The stranger sniffed, wiping his eyes fast before he got up. His voice groggy, raspy from the crying he had released. “Ts’ alright…”

You opened your mouth and closed it again. You shouldn’t, you really should go home and get home before dinner but you just didn’t like the way this boy’s face was filled with so much anguish. The look did not fit him.

To hell with it.

You bit your lip before you spoke, “Are you… are you okay?”

He paused from grabbing his backpack, his eyes shaking. You saw the mental battle he was going through, the way he swallowed, or how his hands began to fiddle.

You knew better than to meddle into things that did not concern you. Mentally you slapped yourself, “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t-“

His hand went up to stop you, “No! No it’s okay. Thank you.”

Your eyes met his again, and for some reason your heart broke at the sight of him. His eyes were blood shot, his nose red by the constant rubbing. You felt the need to hug him, to give him your comfort bunny that helped you when you felt sad.

“Do you.. do you know what helps me?”

He sniffed, the sleeve of his sweater wet yet he cleaned his runny nose. Timidly, he shook his head so slightly you almost missed it.

“Henry. My plush bunny. My mom gave me him when I broke my arm from doing cart wheels. I cried a lot but when I held him. I felt better.”

The stranger smiled with secrets you wanted to know. “That’s nice.”

You nodded with enthusiasm, you saw the way the sadness began to leave his face. So you took steps closer to him, extending your hand out with a smile on your face. You had succeeded in making his smile look more alive.

“I’m y/n! What’s your name?”

He was taller than you, his hair was nicely combed to the side with slight curls at the tips. His eyes were very pretty and you knew then, it looked better when it was filled with happiness. His hand met yours in an warm embrace, your palm smaller and warmer than his cold, bigger hand.

“Oliver. But, you can call me Ollie,” he spoke with a smile, a genuine smile that made him blush with the longer he held your hand.

You continued to smile, matching his. With your hand in his, and the sun peeking out the clouds, you felt a friendship bloom.

At the age of 12, you befriended a broken boy, who often climbed into your window to lay in your bed and whisper why he was so afraid of being alone. You made a promise one night as both of you laid side to side, watching the glowing stars you had pasted on your ceiling.

“For as long as I am alive, I will always be your friend Ollie.”

Ollie held your hand that night and with a shaky breath he pressed a kiss on the front of your hand. “Do you promise?”

You faced him, flicking his forehead, you giggled when he whined softly, “I pinky and double promise. Crossing my heart if I die, I will never leave you Ollie. I promise.”

From then, the friendship grew. Every day was a new adventure, and having you by his side made Ollie happier. He did not think so much about the problems at home or how his parents constantly neglected him. He was just glad he had you, the most prettiest girl with a bright smile and words that filled his heart with warmth. Every day, was another reason piled in his list to why it was so easy to love you.

Ollie Hide, was in love with you. And he never knew just how much you loved him. The feelings of rejection and a possible outcome where it can ruin an already beautiful friendship was all they could think of. The feelings stayed bottled inside as though every touch and every bonding experience only intensified the feelings felt deep within.

One night, as you guys finally had a sleepover, now both in freshman year of high school — you broke a news that hurt him completely. Your father had been given the opportunity to work abroad, meaning you had to leave for an year or two. That meant, leaving Ollie who was suffering yet again in quiet.

As you broke the news to him, you watched as he began to tear up. He was never afraid to cry in front of you, and you never belittled him, he was important and he made you feel comfort more than anything in the world.

“Whe-When?” he whispered, his heart felt as it stopped beating. He wished then, that when they had done surgery on his heart they made the option of feeling anything go away. His heart began to throb in such an agonizing way, he began to breathe heavily.

You wrapped your arms around him, never letting him go. That night as you cried into each others arms, you made another promise. One that was going to haunt you forever.

“Hey doofus,” you said sadly. Your heart breaking when he sniffled yet he hummed, acknowledging you. “Promise you will never forget me.”

Ollie pulled away, his tears running his pale cheeks, “How can I?”

You placed a hand on his cheek. Perhaps both of you were too young to understand how the universe worked but you knew your heart best, and down beneath all the doubt, you knew that it will always belong to Ollie.

Ollie leaned towards your palm, his eyes watching you. At 14, both of you felt the first heartbreak. And two days later, as he watched your parents drive you away from him, he cried like never before. The one thing that held him strong, and stopped all the thoughts in his head that called him useless, unwanted, a disgrace.

Ollie Hide, began to change. He lied in every text message he sent you, every video he sent you, he lied. He told you how sophomore year was amazing, and how many friends he had. He never once told you how they mocked him, the loner boy. The daddy’s boy from a weird dad.

He never once told you how he cried every night, and when he ended up in the hospital again due to stress. Rash, who noticed the symptoms, begged his father to check him in with a therapist. Ollie was silently begging to be seen again. His light was gone, you weren’t there to hold him, to distract him with your non stop rambles how the stars had a story.

You never doubted him. You never asked questions because you trusted him. He would never lie. However, Ollie from the good of his heart did not want to burden you. So he continued to lie, even when social media came for him and made him into a joke, he filmed videos of himself with a smile on his face.

You never doubted anything. But, Ollie… was not himself anymore. The longer the days went, the more his mental health declined. Rosa was gone, and it was as if every important person kept leaving him. His father deep lost in his work to avoid the issues at home never questioned him.

On the summer before Junior year, you had come back. You ran to his house and what you saw made you stop dead in your tracks. Ollie had grown out his hair, and what was his neutral, warm colored clothes, was now all in dark. His eyes had lost the shine, the spark that you had fallen for. In his eyes, he was dead, the eyebags were visible.

“Ollie?” you whispered, unsure.

He turned around slowly, refusing to believe you were there. There you stood, in your hands held a gift for him and you were beautiful. His eyes scanned you, his heart beating fast.

“Y/n?” Ollie questioned, his steps stumbling towards you before he ran towards you where he wrapped you into his arms. You began to sob as you tighten your hands around him.

“I’ve missed you.”

You laughed as tears rolled down your cheeks, “I have missed you doofus!”

“Yo! Ollie! Come on.”

You raised your head from his chest, noticing a boy standing a couple feet away. This boy gave your heart a tug, like a piercing sharp pain gutted you. He raised all the flags in your head.

Ollie swallowed, letting you go, he slightly smiled. You knew better, this smile was fake.

“I’ve gotta go, I’ll see you later?” Ollie asked, he was walking backwards, his eyes avoided yours now. You began to question his behavior, his appearance, where was the Ollie from a year and a half go?

You only nodded, your throat constricting. He left, his steps stomping on your confused heart. Something was wrong and you did not know what it was. Yet, you knew if there was something, Ollie would tell you. He never lied to you.

The summer ended, and you hardly saw him. There was always a different excuse, but you knew. Rob was always in the picture, and whatever he did, murdered the kind, pure heart your bestfriend carried.

“I don’t know why you can’t see it Ollie!” you screamed at him one afternoon after school. You only watched Ollie as he bit into his nail, his hand rubbing his neck in anxiety.

“See what? I don’t understand…” he spoke softly, igniting the fire you held inside. You were angry over the fact your bestfriend was changing and he himself could not see it.

You sighed annoyed, and you began to laugh in disbelief, “How?! How can you not see what’s going on?! You haven’t spoken to me all summer! You barely even acknowledge me!”

Ollie bit the inner skin of his cheek, his heart breaking. He couldn’t harm you, he couldn’t make you a target. He did not want the bullying to get to you just because you were his friend. You did not deserve that. You deserved more. You were more important than his needs. He needed you. He needed to tell you, to yell how much he loved you. How every letter, every photo you guys together he kept in a box where he could go through every night before bed and wonder what could be.

He did what he knew best, avoided the situation. “You know nothing Y/n. Please go home.”

You scoffed, shaking your head, disappointed, hurt and sadness swallowing your heart, you stepped away from him.

“You promised Ollie,” you reminded him. A tear finally slipping out your socket.

He looked down, he bounced on his feet, the anxiety eating him. He never once made eye contact, knowing that if he did, he would never let go.

“I’m keeping a promise,” he muttered, “So please, leave me alone.”

He turned and walked inside, leaving you outside with your second heartbreak and occuring non stop questions. Inside, Ollie slid down towards the floor, he began to sob. He was going to protect you with all he could. That was the promise he made to himself.

You never found out about the bullying Ollie suffered, and it was a shock. But, it also didn’t help that you avoided the shadowed boy. You stuck to yourself, ears plugged in as music blasted through them.

On a cloudy day, you went to your class. Natalia, who was a friend you met through Ollie two years ago, laughed about something funny she saw on a tv show. You feigned a laugh, your eyes scanning for a certain boy. Enough was enough.

You were going to snap some sense into Ollie, whether he liked it or not, but you were not going to lose him. As you settled in class, you forgot about Ollie, immersed into the debate your classmates were going through.

You pulled out your phone and sneakily, sent a message to the one that held your heart.

I am not letting go Ollie. Meet me after school by the treehouse.

As you and Ollie built your friendship, you built new places to hang out, and that included an abandoned tree house you found one day as you walked through the woods. Ollie, being the kindest boy offered to check it out first. Since then, the treehouse was your secret hide out.

You never received a response. You knew he had gotten it though and so you hoped, this was going to change his way of acting. Class was peaceful, of course not without Jack making loud comments about the lesson that had your teacher rolling her eyes every two seconds.

As you giggled over the comment your teacher said you heard a loud bang. Loud bangings. You jumped, your classmates became silent then. You couldn’t hear anything then. Until, yelling and scared chatters hit your ears. Something was happening.

Your teacher smiled as she kept the peace, “Alright guys, it’s probably nothing, stay here. Let me check it out.”

A ping had arrived to your phone then and as you pulled your phone to check the notification, you heard the sounds of glass shattering. You turned to look at Natalia who held the same expression you held — fear. This was a shooting.

Your teacher acted fast, she moved in a way you never seen her act before. She commanded the class to move underneath the desks, away from the windows that overlooked into the classroom. She shut the windows closed and had every single one of you quiet down.

You held onto Natalia’s hand, the fear reaching your ears as you began to hear the thumps of your heart. What felt like an eternity, you begged to be given a chance to see your family again, you did not want to die and not be given a opportunity to declare how much you loved Ollie Hide. You needed to tell him.

“We can run outside!” Jack whispered, panicked that no one was coming for them. Your teacher leaned against the door, watching over you all, her eyes trembling yet she never faltered.

“You stay there Jack! All of you!”

Jack began to mutter in fear, another round of bullets was heard. You began to go into a state of panic, your brain was beginning to go into a daze. Natalia hugged you, as she whispered something you did not understand.

All you could think of was Ollie. Was he okay? Did he make it outside? Did he survive? Is he hiding? As your brain wondered. Jack and your classmates ran outside, all of them swallowed by the fear of dying if they stayed in the classroom. Your teacher shouted, her voice was ignored.

“Stay here girls, please don’t leave until someone comes to get you. Promise me?”

“Don’t go!” Natalia shouted, “You can be killed!”

Your teacher who you admired, and you found to have been the kindest to help you out when you needed it, smiled. A tear slipped her eye, “I have to try and save as much as I can — stay here okay? I’ll be back, I promise.”

It was as if, promises were meant to break.

As you and Natalia hid underneath the piles of chairs and desks, you heard screams closer than usual and multiple shots. You knew better than to be hopeful. Your classmates, ones you were joking with earlier that day, some of them were never going to graduate high school. They will never be parents, or have a dream come true, they will never ever know the pain of loss, or the feeling of loving someone so hard they forget the world spins. They will never have a chance to live.

You released a shaky breath as you held onto your friend. Your brain going over a prayer. If you make it out alive you were going to punch Ollie in the face and kiss him. You will make every moment worth it.

As you say there, you heard the door open. You closed your eyes, leaning your head towards Natalia. If you were going to die, you will die recalling a memory you treasured the most.

“Ollie?” you whispered one night, your voice quiet as both of you hid under the house you built out of blankets. At a distance you heard David arguing with Rosa again.

Ollie swallowed, his breath coming out in shaky wisps.

“Yeah?”

“When we’re older, promise we will still be friends?”

Ollie smiled into the shadows of the dark, he pulled you close, his skinny hand ruffling your hair as he released a sad chuckle, “You will never get rid of me.”

When you heard nothing but the gasp of your friend, you opened your eyes. You recalled that promise, your heart breaking in tiny pieces as you faced the barrel of the gun. Your eyes met with a certain pair that never failed to make you feel flutters in your stomach.

As Ollie, your best friend, your first love, held the gun with tears in his eyes, you released the first sound since the first gun shot. A loud sob.

Ollie looked at you and then at Natalia. You were sobbing now, your hands covering your mouth as you took him in. Your funny, bright bestfriend who joked about the smallest things, and looked after everyone than himself.

The gun didn’t fit him, he wasn’t the shooter. You refused to believe that. Ollie squeezed his eyes and when he reopened them, he looked different. You did not know who he was.

“Clear?!” Rob screamed from across the hall. Ollie said nothing before he shouted back.

“Clear!”

You scrambled to reach him, Natalia held you back. Ollie looked back at you, his eyes dark, lost. He was warning you to stay back. You choked on a sob again as you watched him go, his white sneakers filled with blood. You catched a glimpse at Rob, covered in blood, who said something and left to go the opposite direction.

You refused Natalia’s hold, “I have to get him! It can’t be him Nat…”

“You’re gonna be killed if you go y/n! You can’t go.”

You cried, “I have to try, that’s my bestfriend Nat… I can’t loose him.”

Your feet moved on its own as you ran down the hall towards the staircase, your mind blocking the scattered bodies of your classmates, you refused to believe it was real. It was a dream, you kept repeating.

Your feet hurt as you ran, but you needed to save him. You needed to get to Ollie. As soon as your feet crossed the door to the staircase you heard sobbing, mutters that were in gibberish. You had found him.

“Ollie…” you whispered.

Ollie gasped as he stood up. He began to shake his head, his muttering becoming more unstable, you could not understand him. You stepped closer as he put out a hand, his other hand loosely held onto the shotgun.

“Please… Please save me.”

You cried as you stepped closer, another step closer to reaching him.

“Take it Y/n… please. I can’t…. I don’t… I’m scared. I can’t die…”

Ollie finally looked at you, his eyes filled to the brim with tears, your heart broke once again. Your bestfriend, your first love, lost in his pain.

“Give me the gun Ollie…”

As he was handing you the gun, you heard the rushed steps of feet running up the stairs. The fear you held began to boil again. Finding yourself locking eyes with Rob, who held nothing but anger in his eyes, you didn’t realize the panic Ollie’s eyes went through.

Rob wasted no time but to shoot, and you were too late to run behind the door. The bullet shot through your lower stomach. At first you felt as you fell into a large comforter, and then you saw a flash of white. What you felt next was something that left you wheezing in non stop pain, the bullet has implanted itself in you. Your life was slipping and you just felt regret.

You recalled every promise you made with Ollie. The moments you had with your parents, and your friends. The laughter you shared with them, the cries you gave even if it was over a silly thing. All these memories and emotions flew through, and as you laid on the floor, wheezing through the pain, your heart slowing down one beat at a time. Your hand reached over to Ollie’s. You couldn’t find him, just how you couldn’t find the pain he was going through.

Ollie fought with Rob, and he almost won, if it wasn’t for the rail that threw him over the staircase. He just had one thought, what could have been if only he spoke with honesty of what he was feeling.

As both of you laid in different parts, the life slipping away from your fingers. Your heart’s beated slowly together, as if it was reuniting one last time. And for a moment it did, because the moment you allowed the white cloud wrap around you, Ollie smiled as he felt the warmth of your laugh wrap around him.

The two teenagers were rushed to the hospital, Natalia cried as she ran with you both. She was not going to reveal what had happened. She couldn’t, she knew and believed Ollie was not evil but she also couldn’t hurt you.

As nurses and doctors rushed to work in bringing your hearts back to life, the teenagers that laid in different rooms felt the soul bond loosened. The nurses spoke in sadness how the hands laid loosely over the bed, as if they searched for each other.

As Rash, the doctor that bonded with Ollie more than anyone, worked on a CPR on Ollie, he watched with tears in his eyes how neither of you responded. The dead line on the screen mocking him. And finally, after minutes, the line curved slightly.

The doctors that worked with you, all screamed in relief as you also responded back to life. Rash knew, just as with how Ollie talked of you, both of you were soulmates. He knew that nothing, not even death was going to rip both of you apart.

You had gained another chance at life, and you knew you were going to make every second of it count.

Natalia who watched as one came to live, then the other, sobbed loudly. Her mother wrapped her into her arms. Natalia had decided then, she was never going to reveal Ollie as the one shooter and as another classmate that survived was alive and responding, he recalled of the horrors that happened.

He spoke of the shooters, how he saw one shoot through his friends with no remorse screaming how they deserved it, and the other, the quiet boy who shoved the extra bullets into his pockets and shot through the walls instead. His eyes blinking away the tears that fell.

As the sun peeked through the windows, a chance to recover the lost time. To fix what was broken, was edging you awake. You woke up groggy, moaning that the sun was too bright. As you rolled over you found the mop of curly hair by your side.

You got up confused, till you realized it was a dream you had. You believed in the signs, warnings, how the universe will warn you of these butterfly effects. Since you had come back to town, you noticed the changes that your best friend has been going through.

You knew then, what could happen, whether it’s death or not, be prevented. As you reached over and laid a hand on the pale cheek of your bestfriend who softly snored away, you made a new promise.

“I will guard you with my life, and I promise to show you life is worth living.”

ollie nation tag list: @hxtd @mckennah123 @cieraerickson8 @oroborosfeast

natties angels permanent list: @yohanseyebrowmole @mthrgs29

[your-unfriendlyghost]

Starting a reblog game: RB w/ your own outsiders OC!

if enough folks do, I’ll draw them together or something lol, it’ll be fun!

So these are blatant self inserts for my sister and me

(Info & backstories under the cut because I’ve put waaaay too much thought into this)

and again, pls do reblog/tag me w/ your own Outsiders original/self insert characters! (Drawings and/or written descriptions!) Making OCs was one of my favorite things to do as a kid, so I figured it’d be fun to bring it back here lol

(And to reiterate- if enough of ya’ll do this I’ll draw ‘em all together like a greaser-sona gang! So don’t be shy ok??)

-got sent to Tulsa from Seattle in 1961 at ages 13 and 11 to live with their mildly neglectful uncle, due to their mother getting cancer and being unable to properly care for them. Their father was lost at sea when they were little, so they had no one else to go to.

-in Tulsa they go by their mother’s surname, Biondi, instead of their father’s, because interracial marriage isn’t legalized in Oklahoma until ‘67. They try to pass as just Italian. This works better for Naomi, who takes more after their mother than their father in looks.

-Naomi is good friends w/ Ponyboy- she relates to him a lot, from the dislike of fighting to the love for sunsets (legit Ponyboy reminds me of my sister so much irl) (She’s also low-key got a crush on him and Sodapop which is pretty funny)

-Jesse is closer to Two-Bit, Dally, Steve, and Soda. And he really likes fights. They’re exciting and make him feel tough. When he stops to think about it it does make him a little uneasy how much he’s grown to like them, but usually he just ignores that

-Naomi disapproves of crime. Jesse used to oppose it too, but the more time he spends without good role models and parental figures, the more his morels loosen. Tries hard to be a good example for Naomi though

-Jesse met the gang through Sodapop originally- they were thirteen and some Socs were jumping Soda, and Jesse jumped in and helped him out. Soda explained to him what the deal with Socs and greasers is, because there’s no greasers up North

-Naomi met the gang separately through being classmates with Ponyboy. They were working together on a school project, one with him writing and her drawing

-So Jess and Naomi spent a solid few months hanging out with different members of the same gang, completely unaware they had the same group. They eventually end up running into each other at the Curtis house, and both are totally shocked. Two-Bit, who knew the whole time, nearly died laughing

-Naomi is friends with both Socs and greasers, because she isn’t really either- she’s financially a greaser, but she has a crazy high GPA for someone who has ADHD and dyslexia in the 60s, and besides that, she just doesn’t like what she sees as pointless rivalry

-Jess loves pointless rivalry. At least until people start getting hurt. Then he starts to get angry.

[trendywaifus]

Okay, but what about female reader accidental pregnancy by Ruan Mei? How would she react and deal with it? That's always been a thought in my head dunno why

That’s interesting! I feel like ruan mei would be a bit taken back because she’s very well educated about the in’s and out’s of pregnancy. ruan mei made sure she was extremely careful about not getting you pregnant and it seemed like her efforts failed.

the real question is, will ruan mei accept it? yes! this is an opportunity to study and nurture human life from a baby to an adult which is something she has really never done before. although, she’s at a loss when it comes to loving it because she herself struggles with her emotions and expressing them. ruan mei knows that humans thrive and grow from love and support and yet, she can’t really give that to the child. whichhh is whyyy you’re here to help her! like always, you teach ruan mei how to hold a baby, how to tell him/her that you love him/her —how to connect with him/her. when the baby gives ruan mei a smile full of nothing but gums, she finds herself smiling back with unexpected warmth in her stiff heart.

little by little, ruan mei becomes more knowing and less ignorant towards emotions like love, anger, and sadness. she’s gaining a better grasp of humanity through her child and learns about positive and negative feedback. if her baby is happy, she’s happy. how do you make a baby happy? by playing with them, buying them toys and games to help develop important skills like problem solving and critical thinking. when the baby first cried, she was at a lost and didn’t know what to do. that’s until you picked the crying baby up in your arms, gently rocked them, and cooed. ruan mei closely observes how the baby slowly stopped crying over time and became content from your gentle comfort. the first two times the baby cried, albeit awkward, she copied the exact gesture you did and she couldn’t quite get it. so she started simply humming a tune she often plays with her ruan. and just like that, the baby calms over time and appears nearly asleep. ruan mei concludes that the baby simmers down according to the specific parent’s style of comfort. the problem was that she tried to comfort the baby your way and it didn’t recognize her as you so it continued to cry. when ruan mei began to do it her own way through humming, the infant eventually adapts and recognizes her.

ruan mei would def do operant conditioning to learn more about the child’s behavior. i feel like she’d only reach out to the genius society members she’s in contact with for tips ( which is funny cus just like her, most of the genius society members are socially awkward ) at least screwllum tries to help. herta. .☠️

lol, the baby called ruan mei their mama for the first time which was also their first word. let me tell you, ruan mei felt the happiest she’s ever been. she got so overwhelmed by the pure feeling, she cried for the first time. a tear rolling down her face as she stared down at the giggling baby in shock! such a heart warming sight to be witnessed by you!!

all in all, ruan mei reconnects with her humanity more through her child and grows wit them! i think in this case ruan mei would be the child and the baby would be her teacher without even knowing it 😭 just know the child is gonna be a momma’s boy

sorry I rambled so much! this psychological study is sponsoreddddd byyyyyyyy. @crguang !!!

[mentalmeles]

Well. While the brain rot has me, I wanna talk about some lines in ‘Trust Love’ that have been bothering me lately. Mostly how they blatantly reference Penny and how she just might return once more.

Yes, it’s that kind of Penny posting. If you don’t subscribe to the Penny 3.0 theory or think she should stay dead, please carry on and let me have my silly little thoughts in peace. Also this is 100% Nuts and Dolts propaganda. I will not apologize.

ANYWAY! Onto the lyrics!

Right now, your hopes are shattered / Just pointless ever after

This line obviously talks about the loss of hope. Penny, time and again, has been the character to symbolize hope. The most obvious time this has been done was during Jinxy’s auction in Volume 9.

Ruby is inexplicably drawn to the jade marionette, which we all know turns out to be one of Penny’s swords. (And ofc let’s not forget that weapons are considered an extension of their owners in this world.)

Without knowing why, Ruby wants it and tries to wager for it. But Jinxy asks for something in particular—something Ruby has lost.

“Enough hope to fill [a] jar.”

I also want to point out that the pov making it look like the jade marionette is fitting inside the jar as well as the star charm tied around the top are not at all coincidences. This is the show telling us point blank that Penny is the personification of hope. Or at least Ruby’s hope.

But Ruby just lost her. She has no hope left.

But in time, you'll find / Through love, your power just shines

(I felt the need to put this gif here since it is exactly what plays during these lines in the Volume 7 intro, so let’s just sit and think about the implications of that for a moment. Cool? Cool.)

When you don't know where to turn to / And you're sure all hope is gone / When the day you waited for won't come / And dark won't yield to dawn / Trust love and open up your eyes

Now these lines are what get me. They talk about Ruby losing hope and direction, caught in darkness. Now, while this is the intro song for Volume 7, it’s clear that Ruby has not lost her hope yet. If anything, she just got a big chunk of it back.

And I’d argue that even In Volume 8 when shit has hit the fan and it just keeps coming and coming, Ruby hasn’t lost her resolve yet. There are definitely moments when she comes very, very close to it and she falters, but she does end up maintaining it for the most part.

(I can't find it, but imagine the gif where Ruby is looking down at Penny's unconscious body and is tearing up while saying "It's all...too much." Wow. Such a pretty gif.)

(It's also funny how these moments where Ruby's doubts are the strongest are taking place when Penny is seriously wounded and incapacitated, now isn't it? Surely that's just a funny coincidence...)

But then she and the rest of team RWBY fall into the Ever After and, after learning about Penny's second death, Ruby's mental state just falls deeper and deeper.

But then the lyrics tell Ruby that all she has to do during this dark and harrowing moment is to 'trust love.' Who's love is she supposed to trust? The song has been relating to keeping hope up till now, so it's not a stretch to say that she's supposed to trust the love she had for Penny, platonic or otherwise.

Trust love, the truth is there, but sometimes in disguise

These lines are certainly interesting when put into the context that they're also related to Penny somehow. Personally, all I can think of is when Penny transferred the Winter Maiden powers to Winter. I'm definitely not the first to mention this, but it's awfully suspicious that the aura glow was yellow and not green, isn't it? Sure, there were motes of green, but that isn't what happened when Fria gave Penny the powers previously. So why the change? Unless the truth, while there, is disguised. The truth is that Penny is dying and giving up her power, but it's disguised somehow...

The way's uncertain but we're together / Movin' toward the light / When we trust in love and open up our eyes

Mention of Ruby being together with someone. Obviously, this could just be referring to team RWBY or the whole group being together, united under the mission of saving Remnant from Salem. But, again, when mostly every other line has been tied to hope--and by extension Penny--, it's hard to believe it's talking about that. So, maybe a reunion with a certain someone that hasn't happened yet? A reunion that will bring Ruby back towards the light--towards regaining her hope--once and for all? I mean, if Ruby's character arc in the second Justice League crossover movie is where her arc will go in the show proper, it's not too far of a stretch.

(The reason I mention the Justice League crossover movies is because Ruby's arc in the first movie was very reminiscent to the arc she had about her leadership role in Volumes 7 and 8. So, since she became very self sacrificing in that movie, diving headfirst into mission after mission with no regard to her safety, maybe that's what will happen in Volume 10 too? Maybe having the potential of getting Penny back will be the thing to make her stop?)

Anyways... I don't know if any of this really made any sense and I might just be rambling nonsense, but yeah. Some things that I noticed and felt the need to shout out into the ether.

Thanks for reading!

[muldermuse]

girldad!butcher when one your daughters has a ‘boyfriend’ at primary school and he gets all huffy about it and ends up lecturing both your girls on how men are trash but they steamroll over him just like

“You lot need to understand, that men, as a whole, are horrible.”

“But you’re nice, daddy!”

“Well, I’m the exemption, I’m talkin’ bout-

“Uncle Hughie is nice too!”

“Well yes, but listen love I-“

“And Uncle Marvin!”

“Oh- don’t forget Uncle Frenchie too, he taught me this French song. Daddy, do you want to hear it?”

“Yeah! We can sing it to you!”

And by this point he’s been verbally defeated by his two little ones and is just accepting of the fact that he’ll be fighting off boys for the foreseeable future😭

im so in love with this

i love girldad!butcher so much- his girls just run rings around him. the man truly stands absolutely no chance

ALSO IMAGINE when your daughter is like 13 and she gets paired up with a boy in her class to do a science project. he’s coming round to do the project on like a Saturday afternoon and butcher is livid. he’s trying to call the school to get her in a team with some girlfriends instead of some kid named briar.

later in bed that night, he’s grumbling that the “kid sounds like a fuckin’ cunt”. you remind him that the ‘cunt’ he’s referring to is a 13 year old boy who he has never met. also, you know briar’s mom and he seems like a nice kid. you tell butcher this but he just grumbles unhappily until he starts snoring

butcher is cancelling all family plans so he can stay in and make sure no ‘funny business’ happens during the study session. when your daughter answers the door she says ‘ignore my dad, he’s being weird’ and briar looks terrified of butcher immediately- avoids his gaze and calls him mr butcher when he greets him

of COURSE, after a few hours, butcher realises that briar is actually a nice kid. butcher even offers to make him dinner and drop him home. refers to briar as ‘his little mate’ everytime he sees him at school events from now on. even when your daughter has her first boyfriend at like 17 (and butcher is not a fan), he’s saying she should call briar instead.

“i did one science project with him like forever ago dad! he has a boyfriend now!”

[violetisconfused]

Okay okay okay. Hear me out: Apollo x Telemachus.

I know I sound mental rn but it would be REALLY funny, and honestly kinda cute. Like you cannot deny that Telemachus would be Apollo’s type. I fear local pretty young prince is exactly the kinda person Apollo would be like “yeah I’d hit” and Tel would honestly probably go from “why is this god talking to me so often?” to “wait is he flirting with me?” to “wait but I don’t like men… but like Apollo’s kinda cute… wait no!” to “okay so maybe I like men but do I wanna get involved with a god?” pipeline of self discovery era all because the god of archery and music came down and started flirting one day

Athena is VERY unimpressed with her half brother for this one of course 😔 she is in fact their biggest hater (Ody is close in second he wants Apollo AWAY from his child)

Penelope and Hermes are very supportive of the relationship though. Penelope more in a “as long as you’re happy and he doesn’t hurt you or get you hurt I’m fine with it” way. Hermes though, he actively encouraged Apollo to start flirting with Telemachus to begin with (great grandpa being a wingman to get you set up with a god? More likely than you think)

As for the rest of the Olympians? Zeus is wondering why his existence is haunted by Odysseus and his family, same with Poseidon. Artemis is entirely unsurprised her twin brother has decided to start dating a mortal prince, it’s very on brand for him. Ares couldn’t care less, same with Hephaestus. Aphrodite is actually a big fan only because she can tell that Apollo genuinely likes Telemachus. Hera is indifferent about it but I like to imagine that after God Games she’s a slightly better step mom so she’s relatively supportive of Apollo’s prince rizzing endeavors.

The relationship itself is surprisingly highly functional and really normal despite Apollo being a god. For a long time Telemachus makes an internal vow to himself not to fall in love too much because he’s aware that Apollo tends to switch up on how much he loves his lovers sometimes and doesn’t wanna get hurt but after a very long discussion and Apollo swearing he’s serious about this (like Hyacinth levels of serious about this. Bro is LOCKED IN) and after staying up literally all night thinking about it Telemachus decides to seriously give this a chance and stop acting weird and it goes extremely well actually. They hang out daily, usually in like the woods or something or down by the shore where there isn’t anybody around simply because neither of them really wanna deal with other people knowing they’re together. It isn’t because either one is ashamed of the other or anything, just simply wanting privacy and knowing they wouldn’t get that with Telemachus being prince and Apollo being a literal god so people would probably just be staring the whole time.

Apollo also gives Telemachus gifts like crazy. He’ll write him love poems and songs all the time and is always equally as excited to show him every time (Telemachus is always just as excited to hear it because he’s never had anyone love him like this before)

Now the funniest part of this whole thing: the era where Apollo is trying to woo Telemachus. He 100% used serenading but stopped after Odysseus tried to shoot him with an arrow (to be fair it was the 10th time Apollo was outside the palace singing so the attempted shooting was pretty valid. Ody wanted his sleep)

Then Apollo started bugging Athena and tagging along with her whenever she’d visit the royal family (she knew what he was trying to do but there’s no stopping Apollo once he wants to woo somebody. Not for a lack of obvious hating though. Very actively hates on his flirting. Apollo is extremely un-subtle with his flirting too which makes it even funnier because 9/10 Telemachus just runs away because he’s never been flirted with before

Then after the flirting just turns into Telemachus avoiding Apollo at all costs (Telemachus is in his questioning his romantic attraction era during this but ofc Apollo doesn’t know this) Apollo just starts leaving love poems once a week (this goes on for about a month so four poems in total).

Then yk as I said before Telemachus decides to give it a shot blah blah blah gay people real they kiss the end 🥳

So yeah there’s me explaining my crackship. It’s essentially just: “Apollo likes pretty boys and Telemachus is a (very awkward) pretty boy”

[wilcze-kudly]

Thoughts on…

https://www.tumblr.com/miss-sweetea-pie/731463633376313344/zutara-lens-vs-kataang-lens?source=share

Is it fair to even mention Zuko seeing as Katara never had feelings for him?

Honestly, I find it kinda funny that OP is sorta telling on themselves by seemingly primarily viewing Jet's storyline through a shipping lens, a stepping stone for Kataang or Zutara.

But sure, let's go with this narrative.

OP claims that Jetara could be seen a foreshadowing to Zutara, as they say that Zuko ans Jet have some similarities. And I suppose that can be true on a surface level. As OP says: Rugged teenage boys with traumatic back stories. But franky, other than being mildly edgy and also having been through some sort of trauma, there's not much there.

In fact, if you compare Aang and Jet, I think you'll find many deeper similarities than just "bad boy with questionable morals".

Aang and Jet have both experienced great loss at the hands of the Fire Nation. Aang losing his entire people and Jet losing his parents and village, presumably leaving them both alone in the world and with a lovely case of survivor's guilt to boot.

Jet and Aang are both kids who were forced by the war to take up positions of responsibility over their fellow victims. Aang, of course, being the Avatar and being fated to end the war. While Jet takes up a leadership positions, persumably gathering kids orphaned and hurt by the Fire Nation, leading them and keeping them safe, while also fighting back. Let's not forget that the reason Jet decided to flood that city was because the firebenders occupying it were planning to burn the forest Jet and the Freedom Fighters resided in, forcing them out and putting them in danger.

We also see a very sweet parallel of Jet encouraging Katara's confidence in her waterbending skills, which is something Aang does on numerous occasions, showing us exactly what affection Katara values in a potential partner and that both Jet and Aang not only believe in her skills, but also intuit her needs.

This is why Katara fell for Jet and why she fell for Aang. They're both protectors and heroes of the people, they're both victims of the Fire Nation who chose to stand up against it. They're revolutionaries, rebels, downright rabble-rousers. They both value communities, and do their best to uplift and defend their fellow victims, something Katara does as well. And they both connect with Katara over not only encouraging her in her own abilities, but also in their shared trauma, which leads me to my next point.

Aang works so well paralleling Jet, because both Jet and Aang were written and posited to parallel Katara. This aspect of Jetara is one OP completely neglected to mention, I suppose due to the fact that it doesn't hoist up Zutara as a ship.

Katara and Jet connect over their trauma very early in the episode, and I think this is where Katara's interest in Jet due to his role as a Freedom Fighter turns to a genuine connection over shared trauma.

Jet: The Fire Nation killed my parents. I was only eight years old. That day changed me forever. Katara: Sokka and I lost our mother to the Fire Nation. Jet: I'm so sorry, Katara..

Katara, Jet and Aang share many similarities, which is why I suppose these two boys were Katara's only explicitly confirmed love interests. Just like Aang and Jet, Katara is community oriented, a voice for victims and the marginalised, a fighter for the good of the people.

Seeing these parallels almost makes me wonder if the design team took this into account when making Jet's design colours mainly blue and orange, colours assvociated with Katara and Aang. Though Jet's colour palette is more muted and darker, perhaps signifying the erosion of his morals due to his trauma.

Jet goes astray when he begins to value the fight over the people he is fighting for, something Aang and Katara actively go against, prioritising human life and their moral integrity.

Atla explores the concept of victimhood and how it affects our morality in various ways, especially when it comes to victims of war. The particular focus of this theme is Katara, as we see the writers often connect her to victims who lost that morality, in order to showcase her character. Hama and Jet both serve as excellent foils to show what Katara could've been if she wasn't as kind and compassionate as she is. The crowning jewel of this storyline for her being, of course, the Southern Raiders, which bears callbacks to both Jet and Hama.

But as much as I want this post to be about Katara, OP has other plans, so let's go back to their arguments for Jetara foreshadowing Zutara.

OP makes an argument about how both Zuko and Jet break Katara's trust, testing her charcter, which is a good point, albeit they conveniently omit Hama from the circle of people who connected with Katara over shared trauma and then betrayed her trust.

Can't imagine why. Is it because Hama isn't hot, isnt it? Op doesn't fancy a nice morally compromised gilf, I suppose. 😒 we used to be a proper country.

OP also claims that the show portrays Katara as too trusting, and even claims that the shows message in Jet's case is, in their words: So from a k.ataang lens it leads more towards the lesson that katara need to stop letting these “bad boys” break her heart, “dumb girl your too trusting just give the sweet guy a chance”.

Which is quite the claim, since I actually really enjoy that Katara is never portrayed as being in the wrong, or 'dumb' for trusting Jet, Zuko and Hama. In fact, the three of them are made to look like assholes for taking advantage of her.

The thing about Katara's trust of Jet, Zuko and Hama isn't that it comes from a place of foolishness or naiveté. It comes from empathy and connection. She connects over shared pain ans trauma with these three and she wants to make a connection to alleviate their pain. It just so happens that Zuko is going through his disaster boyfailure era, while Jet and Hama are morally compromised by the horrific events that brutally formed their mentalities.

Anyways, to wrap this point up, can Hama be an honourary bad boy too I think she deserves that

Another argument of OP is that Jet's death could foreshadow Zuko almost dying in the finale and that is could teach, in their words: how we waste time holding grudges and sometimes people don’t have the luxury of apologizing to the people they love.

Now, this is interesting, because Jet's death very clearly connected to Aang's actual death and then ressuraction via Deus ex Katara. However, unlike the theme of pure romance OP proposes in their post, the canon storyline uses these events to feed more into Katara's personal development and stoyline, that of her fear of loss and helplessness, on which I elaborate here:

That is not to say that this storyline doesn't affect Katara and Aangs romance, but I like that the main focus is Katara's meantality and trauma. Because the thing with Katara and Aang's storylines and development is that they intertwine and feed into each other but aren't overshadowed by their romance.

OP continues to speculate that the jetara storyline through a kataang lense is that "bad boys" will break Katara's heart and that she should just "give the nice guy a chance".

I find this a gross twisting of the nature of multiple characters, relationships and storylines.

First of all, reducing Jet to a "bad boy" is fucking demeaning and kinda disgusting. He's not an edgy boy who smokes in the school's bathroom and rides a loudass motorcycle. He's a traumatised child soldier, caring for other children and desperately trying to stop the advance of an army that already has like 3 genocides under its belt. His morals getting messed up in the process doesn't make him a bad boy, they make him a realisitic victim. A kid who tried his best but became misguided.

In the same, paragraph, OP also claims that, despite the message of the show being that everyone is capable of good and evil and that everyone deserves a chance, because people are complex, Jet is not afforded that dignity and understanding.

AND LET ME TELL YOU LET ME FUCKING TELL YOU

That was upsetting.

Because Jet's redemption was shown so wonderfully and symbolically, to the point where sometimes it makes me more emotional than Zuko's.

In B2 we see that Jet has left the forest (persumably bcs the firebenders did burn down the forest) and his entourage has shrunk to just Longshot our trans queen Smellerbee 🏳️‍⚧️. We are told that he is looking for a new life in Ba Sing Se. So far so good.

It seems that the Gaang intervening with his plans has definetly made him rethink his actions. And he's looking to start a new, kinder life. Even going so far as to remove himself from the fight against the Fire Nation, something he had previously been so passionate about, perhaps because he recognised that it brought out his uglier side. Hell yeah we love a king who can recognise his flaws and strives to better himself.

Jet: I've done some things in my past that I'm not proud of, but that's why I'm going to Ba Sing Se: for a new beginning. A second chance.

Despite not being on the frontlines anymore, he's still a hero for the people, straling food for the ferry passengers from the greedy captain. Noice. He immediately takes an interest in Zuko, assuming as many, that Zuko was a victim of the Fire Nation like him, due to Zuko's scar.

Jet: You know, as soon as I saw your scar, I knew exactly who you were. You're an outcast, like me. And us outcasts have to stick together. We have to watch each other's backs. Because no one else will.

I find this SO endearing because atla places such emphasis on the connections and solidarity between victims. And Jet is no exception to this, having taken so many children orphaned by the Fire Nation (or just orphaned as seemed to be the case with the Duke) and also connecting over being hurt by the Fire Nation with Katara, the same way he thinks he is connecting with Zuko. (Jetara and Jetko should parallel each other actually instead of Jetara and Zutara)

Now things turn south when Jet realises that Zuko and Iroh are firebenders, which while showcasing that Jet's need for redemption hasn't healed his trauma (not surprising) around the Fire Nation, I can't really blame him. Like, he's seen the worst of what firebenders can do, why on earth would he stand by and let them infiltrate the city that refugees flock to in order to escape the war. And yeah he sounds like a raving lunatic, but he is right. Zuko and Iroh are firebenders.

From then on, Jet is used as a pawn by Long Feng and the Dai Li, but he still does his best to help the Gaang, seemingly holding no grudge against them for ruining his plans of mass murder.

We see a nice lil trauma flashback of Jet's childhood trauma, giving us a tangible illustration of his motivations and pushing us to sympathise with him. We see him and Katara share a sweet moment as she literally alleviates the pain of the memories. This scene can not only be read as romantic but as another example of solidarity and support between victims in atla.

But it's in the bowels of Lake Laogai, as Aang and Jet face off against Long Feng, that we see the symbolic redemption for Jet really come to its crescendo.

Long Feng, compels Jet into fighting Aang, directly paralleling Aang and Jet's previous battle in the Jet episode. Aang is trying to solve the situation peacefully, even while Jet is trying to hurt him.

Aang: Jet, it's me, Aang! You don't have to do this! Long Feng: I'm afraid he no longer has a choice.

[...] Aang: Jet, I'm your friend! Look inside your heart! Long Feng: Do your duty, Jet! Aang: He can't make you do this! You're a Freedom Fighter!

And I can't not think how the brainwashing pushed Jet into an almost identical situation as his grief and anger did all those years ago. It's a decent comparison, I suppose. Both stem from a painful, stressful situation, influence his actions, pusging him to do things against his usual morals, turning him away from the caring, idealist Freedom fighter he is.

But this time, Jet breaks through the thing clouding his mind. He remembers himself. His trauma, his friendship and care for the freedom fighters and his connection to Katara. He sadly pays the ultimate price for this.

And while I dislike this plot point, because as a rule of thumb I dislike when a character gets a redemption arc and immediately dies or redeems themself by dying, but I can appreciate this scene for how it defined puts a lot of care into showing us the change in Jet, his perception by the gaang and his role in the story.

Katara tries to heal Jet, but is pessimistic(in the commentary of this episode, it's mentioned that there could be a few explanations as to why she didn't use the spirit water.) Here, Jet urges Katara and the Gaang to go find Appa, leaving him to essentially die.

And it's as the Gaang leave, we can compare the ends of the two Jet storylines. In Jet, the last time we look upon Jet's face, it is twisted by anger and rage. In Lake Laogai, he wears a sad, but reassuring smile, and somehow looks at peace.

When Katara first had to leave him in Jet, her expression is one of betrayal and disappointment. In Lake Laogai, she looks to be preparing to grieve, almost as if she were trying to hold back tears. She's conflicted and sad in both scenes, but for different reasons, showing how Jet has redeemed himself in her eyes.

Where in Jet, we leave Jet disgraced and in turmoil, in Lake Laogai we leave him dying, yes, but also a hero, kind and brave, and free. And I like to believe that the second is the real Jet.

Ok this just turned into me gushing over jet, but I think this was important to highlight the significance and uniqueness of Jet and Katara's relationship. Presenting it as "the proto-Zutara" is a disservice to this complex, heartwrenching storyline. And that was kinda gross of OP. Shame on them.

I also think OP is mistaken by labelling Aang as just the "nice guy" whom Katara should "give a chance to". Aang is indeed a nice, kind person and this is something that attracts Katara, because she's also a good person and she values such traits. But this is not the only reason Katara falls for Aang. Like with Jet, she connects with him over shared trauma. He enables her growth, respects her as a teacher, offers her comfort when needed, is her friend and supporter.

Katara is not "giving him a chance" their relation simply progresses very slowly and in a slightly unorthodox manner. We see that Katara has a growing crush on Aang, blushing over him and getting incredibly jealous when other girls try to get with him.

I also like that Aang and Jet are never pitted against each other and Aang is never jealous of Jet. In fact Aang seems almost just as infatuated with Jet as Katara lol (jetaang rights babey).

OP also claims that a lot of people misinterpret TSR as Katara being manipulated by Zuko and "needing Nice Guy Aang to save her". Which is something I've talked about a few times. I don't believe Zuko was consciously manipulating Katara. He was simply trying to build a relationship with her because she was very adamant on hating him. And because he didn't know her that well, he tried to help by projecting his own needs and anger over his mother's loss onto her. Which is very 16 year old boy of him.

And I don't believe Aang was even trying to "save" her. I think he was simply trying to help Katara think through her actions throughly before she did something rash that may haunt her forever.

Aang bringing up Jet also seemed more like a : "hey remember when we saw a guy betray his morals due to his grief pain and trauma despite being a kind and good person with an good goal?" Which I think is a kinda understandable thing since it happened like twice to them already. And remember that Aang has also experienced how destructive his anger can be and he knows Katara's morality and idealism well enough to know that what she is planning is way out of character.

OP tags this post with "I swear zutara gives the show so much more depth" and while I don't want to deride the ship as a whole, the themes and storylines OP gave don't really bring that much depth into the show. It simply repurposes the arcs and storylines that served to either explore Katara, or the concept of victimhood and morality into serving a romance.

Which is... fine, if that's what you consider deep I suppose. I just think it's obvious that OP had clear biases when coming up with their post. And like, biases are fine, we're writing meta about a kid's show not a fucking reseaech paper, I'd be a hypocrite if I called OP out on having preferences.

But it's obvious that OP did their darndest to present Kataang in the least favourable light and didn't even try to consider giving it a shred of anything but a cursory, critical glance.

If I were to talk about their "Jetara foreshadowing Zutara" idea with its "bittersweet lesson how we waste time holding grudges and sometimes people don’t have the luxury of apologizing to the people they love" like they talk about Kataang, I could say (altering OP's text here):

"So from a Zutara lens it leads more towards the lesson that katara need to stop holding a grudge towards these boys who hurt and used her, “dumb girl you need to forgive them quickly cause what if they suddenly die and you realise you love them and regret it“ .

...which sounds like some manner of abuse apologism. I don't think OP had this in mind, but it just shows how easy it is to paint a benign message into something shitty if you're just salty enough.

I think that wraps this up. I can vaguely understand what OP meant, and it's a cute concept for Zutara shippers, I just don't know why Kataang slander had to get dragged in here. Since while OP seems fairly invested in Zuko, they visibly have a little issue giving thought to Katara, Aang and Jet's storylines.

Which is sad, especially in Jet's case, since he doesn't get nearly enough love from the fandom. So here's the little note from the atla cookbook that made me really emotional over Jet lol

HE COOKED FOR THE FREEDOM FIGHTERS AGH OUGH AGH

[sequinsmile-x]

Chasing Shadows

“Besides, you’ll be there with me. I can just pretend we’re on a date,” she smiles wryly when she finally looks up at him, “But with all of our friends watching us thinking we’re faking being together whilst we’re trying to lure out an unsub.” 

He smiles and reaches out to tuck some of her hair behind her ear, “It is getting a little hard to keep track of isn’t it?” 

AKA the one where Aaron and Emily are in a secret relationship, and have to 'fake' being in a relationship for a case...whilst pretending they are not actually in a relationship.

-x-

Hi friends,

This is one of the prompts from the I Knew You'd Linger Like a Tattoo Kiss series, but it got away from me so it is its own stand-alone one-shot!

I've made this a series on Ao3 for ease (and to be honest mostly so I can keep track haha). The prompt for this one is 'kisses for a cover'

Anyway, this is really silly in parts and my attempt at being funny.

As always, please let me know what you think <3

-x-

Warnings: Canon typical themes, smatterings of plot/case fic,

Words: 4.3k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

“I could have done that.” 

Emily turns to look at her boyfriend over her shoulder. She smiles widely at him before she turns back to the task at hand, her focus on the eggs she was pushing around the pan in front of her instead of how good he looked standing half naked in her kitchen, his chest bare and his hair askew. She loved seeing Aaron like this, without the harsh lines and straight edges of his suits. There was something about seeing him rumpled like this, half asleep and deliciously hers, that she loved. 

They had the whole weekend stretched out ahead of them. Jack was with Roy, a weekend away that had been planned for months and Emily had jumped at the opportunity to spend some time alone with her boyfriend. She had felt selfish at first for how excited she was for it, but Aaron had assured her he was excited too, that it didn’t diminish the love either of them had for his son. 

She’d woken up before Aaron this morning, which was rare in itself. He was usually up before the alarm, waking her with gentle kisses and his hand trailing up and down her back or arm as he pulled her from sleep. She’d spent some time watching him, enjoying the chance to see him completely relaxed. He’d looked almost boyish as he lay next to her, his face half buried in her pillow, his arm heavy over her waist. She’d eventually snuck out from his embrace, leaving him with a kiss against his forehead before she grabbed his shirt from her bedroom floor, fastening a few buttons as she walked to the kitchen to make them breakfast. 

“You needed your beauty sleep,” she says, humming contentedly as he wraps his arms around her, tugging her back against his chest as he kisses her cheek, “Plus, it’s only bacon and eggs,” she says, turning her head to kiss him, smiling when he beams at her, “It’s not exactly a gourmet meal.” 

He hums as he buries his face in the crook of her neck, seeking out the scent of her that he’d never tire of. She always smelt sweet, like vanilla, with a hint of spice to it. Something that he’d catch in the air when they were working and she would walk past him, a soft smile on her face when their eyes would meet across the room because she knew exactly what effect she had on him. He could smell himself on her too, a touch of his cologne lingering on her skin from where they’d slept pressed against each other and on the shirt she was wearing. It was mixed in with the smell of her, and it makes him hold her even tighter, his lips against her neck as he kisses up towards her jaw, chasing the giggle she lets out as she continues to cook for them. 

“What do you want to do today?” He asks, kissing her cheek, wanting to have as much of this, of her, as he could over the next couple of days. 

She hums as if she has to think about it before she turns to look at him, their faces so close their noses bump against each other, “Eat breakfast,” she says, kissing him softly, “Go back to bed, have sex,” she laughs when he does, kissing him again, “Shower together. Have sex in there too,” she smiles so widely their next kiss is lost to a laugh, “Snuggle on the couch and watch a movie, have se-”

“I get the idea, sweetheart,” he chuckles, resting his chin on her shoulder as she turns her focus back on the food, “Sounds like an excellent plan to…” he drifts off as his phone rings in the pocket of his sweatpants and they both groan. 

“Please don’t say it’s work,” she grumbles, not even trying to stop the way she pouts as he digs his phone out of his pocket and turns it to show her Penelope’s name on the screen, “Damn it.” 

“Sorry, Em,” he says, as if it’s his fault, a hangover from his marriage and the ever-present feeling he was letting Emily down. 

“It’s not your fault,” she replies, stamping her lips against his, “You should answer before she leaves you a colourful voicemail about how it’s her weekend too.” 

He smiles and nods, “Hotchner,” he says as he answers, stepping away, leaving cool air in his place as he paces around her kitchen. She only half listens, her disappointment cold and heavy in her gut as she plates up their breakfast, her hopes of a lazy day with her boyfriend disappearing with each question Aaron asks Penelope and each long silence that follows as she answers. By the time he hangs up, she’s sitting at her breakfast bar, one of her elbows on the counter as she eats. He kisses her forehead as he sits next to her, his right hand heavy on her bare thigh as he starts to eat with his left, “You’re pouting.” 

She scoffs, “Of course I am,” she says, smiling he raises his eyebrows in surprise at her admittance to something she’d usually deny, “We were meant to have a weekend off and now we’re going on a case. Unless Pen was calling to tell you about her plans for the weekend.” 

He squeezes her thigh, “No such luck. We’re going to Idaho, she’ll call you soon.” 

“See,” she grumbles, fighting a smile when he offers her a bite of his breakfast even though hers is the same. She leans forward and eats the food from his fork and then shakes her head after she swallows, “Our weekend of sex and food is all gone,” she sighs, “And now I’m going to have to pretend you’re just my boss and not my very handsome and sexy boyfriend.” 

At first, the secrecy had been practical. A tool she and Aaron used as they navigated the shift in their relationship from friends to more that allowed them to do it with no outside influence. No staring or comments, both well-meaning and meddling, from their friends as they settled into new roles in each other's lives. Then she’d started to enjoy it. She loved that their relationship was something just for them, untouched by the opinions of the others that she cared about more than she could admit even to herself. It’s how they found themselves ten months down the line, both aware that this was it for them - that they wanted everything with each other - with only Jack and Jessica knowing. 

It was getting harder to keep it a secret, the shine taken off of it now because she knew if they wanted to take the next step, to live together in one of the houses they’d circled in the paper on her living room table, they had to let their friends in. She knew they’d made it harder on themselves, that the secrecy in itself would garner opinions from their friends and that not all of them would be what she’d want to hear, but she couldn’t bring herself to regret it. Not when she’d had so much time to make Aaron hers. 

“We’ll tell them next weekend at Dave’s,” he assures her, “Just like we planned.” 

She smiles, “I know,” she says, “Although I’d still have to pretend you aren’t my handsome and sexy boyfriend when we are on cases,” she winks at him, “I will settle for holding your hand on the jet though,” she leans forward and kisses him, “You have some of your suits here, right?” She asks, and he nods, “Excellent. That means you’ll have time to shower here,” she smiles as she pulls back, “And that means we can keep at least part of our original plan,” she sighs when her phone rings on the counter and she picks it up, blowing out a breath at the sight of Penelope’s name as she answers, “Hi Pen, please tell me you’re just calling to hear my voice?” 

Aaron smiles at her fake ignorance and kisses her forehead, taking advantage of as many moments as he can as Aaron and Emily before they have to slip back into Hotch and Prentiss. 

___

It takes four days for them to make any kind of progress. 

Four long days with very little sleep at the motel they’d been booked into. Aaron had snuck into her room each night, slipping into her bed and wrapping himself around her so they could both get better sleep. He woke her up each morning before he left, his lips against her forehead or cheek as he said he’d see her in an hour or so when the team would meet for breakfast. When they first started this they said they’d never sleep in the same room on cases, but it was a rule that had barely lasted the very first case they’d been together for. She slept better next to him, and she knew he slept better next to her, and any attempt to pretend otherwise had disappeared months ago.

She huffs out a breath as she looks at the boards they’d set up in the conference room, looking over the information again and again in the hope she’d see something they hadn’t seen before. All the victims were middle-aged women who had been found in an alley behind the only high-end restaurant in town. All of them beaten beyond recognition and left there like they were nothing more than the trash they were found lying in. The local cops had dismissed the initial couple of victims as escorts, women who they saw as putting themselves in a situation that could have been avoided. The third victim, a well thought of married woman with no links to that life, is what caused the step change in their attitude to the case, finally calling the BAU when they realised just how in over their heads they were. 

“I don’t think we have any choice but to send someone to the restaurant undercover,” Derek says, his arms crossed over his chest, “The owner’s lack of cooperation is making this more difficult than it needs to be.” 

“He’s worried about his business,” Dave chimes in, his brow furrowed, “More than he is about the bodies getting dumped behind it.” 

JJ hums, “Capitalism at its finest,” she murmurs, “So we send someone in who fits the profile of the victims, make sure that they draw attention to themselves and what? Hope the unsub makes himself known?” 

Emily sighs, her lips pressed together because she knows where this is going. She looks at Aaron and their eyes meet, and she knows he’s figured it out too, his jaw tight as he opens his mouth to refute the plan, something she knows he wouldn’t do for any of the others. The ability to just be her boss, and not her boyfriend, blurred by his love for her and his hatred of putting her in this situation. 

“I can do it,” she says before anyone else can suggest it, before Aaron can say it’s not a good idea, and her smile is tight when they all look over at her, “I’m the only one who fits the profile of the victims,” she forces a smirk when she looks at JJ, “You’re catching up though.”

“No,” Aaron says, shaking his head, “We don’t know enough.” 

“It’s the best chance we’ve got,” she says as she turns to look at him, “Plus, it’s not like I’ll be alone. You’ll all be nearby, Plus…I have something I can wear.” 

He feels a flash of sorrow in his gut at the knowledge that she’d come prepared, that she always came prepared just in case the team needed her to play whatever role was required. He hates that he’s guilty of it too, that more than once he’s asked her to allow them to use her beauty and the way other people look at her to their advantage. 

“Fine,” he says eventually, “But you’re definitely not going alone. I’ll come with you.” 

She has to stop herself from rolling her eyes, her instinct to say his first name squashed in an instant as she remembers where they are, that the team are watching this back and forth, “Hotch-”

“It may work,” Spencer says, “If you were acting like a couple and the unsub saw you he might be intrigued. One of the victims was there with her boyfriend before he had to leave for work. She finished her meal and left out the back and was found the next day.” 

Derek smirks as he looks at Aaron and Emily, “Do you two think you could be a convincing couple?” He tilts his head as he looks back and forth between them, “I’m not sure I see it.” 

Emily narrows her eyes at him, “I’m sure we can manage,” she deadpans before she turns back to Aaron, “Are you sure you want to do this?” 

He nods, hearing the question she doesn’t ask - are you sure this is a good idea - and clears his throat before he answers, “I’m sure.” 

She blows out a long breath and nods, “Then I guess we’re going on a date.” 

JJ smirks at her from across the room, “Will your boyfriend mind when he finds out you’ve had to be all over Hotch for an evening?” 

She’s proud of herself for not smiling at JJ’s question, or for not immediately looking over at Aaron and giving the game away. JJ and Penelope found out she was seeing someone a couple of months ago after they saw a man’s shirt in her pile of freshly washed laundry. She hadn’t been able to come up with a lie fast enough, Aaron’s ability to fluster her even when he wasn’t present second to none, and she admitted she was seeing someone. She’d refused then and ever since to give any more details but they teased her relentlessly whenever they got together for girls night, her love for her boyfriend clear to her friends even though she’d barely told them anything about him. 

“He’ll be fine,” she says her gaze flicking over to the man in question, “He’s a grown-up,” she smiles, unable to resist teasing Aaron when he was clearly already a little uncomfortable, “Plus, Hotch is a gentleman. He’ll keep his hands to himself. Right, Sir?” 

He stares at her, and it’s strange to think that a year ago she wouldn’t see the spark in his eyes. That she wouldn’t have seen past the glare he wore as a mask and see the mix of adoration and fake irritation lying beneath. It makes her grateful that he’s hers, that she had the privilege of being allowed to see what he hid from everyone else, and she knows she wants to see it for the rest of her life. 

“Of course, I will, Prentiss,” he says, giving as good as he gets in the way he says her name, an inflexion in it that makes her press her lips together to stop herself from smiling. The dangerous line of giving themselves away that they had walked like a tightrope for months getting thinner by the day.

They go back to the hotel to get ready after they’ve figured out the plan for the evening. Emily looks at herself in the mirror, her chest tight as she feels herself slipping into a role she’d played countless times before. She’s still messing with her hair and plucking at the material of her dress when there is a light knock on the door before Aaron uses his card key to let himself in. She smiles when she sees he’s followed her instructions to remove his tie and undo a couple of the buttons on his shirt. 

“You look handsome,” she says, smiling softly before she looks at her reflection again, blowing out a slow breath as he steps towards her, his arms tight around her middle. It’s a reminder of the moment they’d had together in her kitchen before they were pulled onto this case. She leans into it, into him, seeking the comfort she never quite found the words to ask for. 

“You look beautiful,” he says, kissing her cheek before he turns her in his arms, his hands on her hips before they slide to her back. He watches her carefully, sees the tightness to her smile that usually only the memories of the things she’d endured, or her mother, could bring out of her. “Are you sure you’re okay with this? We’ll come up with another plan.” 

She shakes her head as she links her arms around his neck. She runs her fingers through the short hairs at the back of his head, “I’m okay,” she says automatically, shrugging before she continues, “We both know I’ve done worse, honey.”

He presses her closer, his palms wide and firm on her back as she tries to laugh it off, a coping mechanism she’d had for as long as he’d known her, “Em, sweetheart, you don’t have to do that with me.” 

It disarms her, her shoulders slumping with it, but she nods, her lips pressed together as she shifts closer to him, “Someone needs to do it, I’ll be fine,” she smiles softly, her focus on the lapel of his jacket as she picks off a piece of lint, sure if she let her eyes meet his she’d lose her bravado entirely, “Besides, you’ll be there with me. I can just pretend we’re on a date,” she smiles wryly when she finally looks up at him, “But with all of our friends watching us thinking we’re faking being together whilst we’re trying to lure out an unsub.” 

He smiles and reaches out to tuck some of her hair behind her ear, “It is getting a little hard to keep track of isn’t it?” 

She chuckles and nods, stamping her lips against his, “It is,” she says, kissing him once more before she pulls back, “But, if we catch the unsub tonight we can go home and everything will be simpler again.” 

He kisses her forehead and then reaches for her hand, linking their fingers together and squeezing, “In that case, we’d better get going Agent Prentiss.” 

She shakes her head at him, her lips pressed together to try to contain her smile, “Lead the way, Agent Hotchner.”

___

She can almost pretend they are on a normal date. That it’s just the two of them focused only on each other and that they aren’t there to try and lure a killer out of his nest. 

She makes a point of holding Aaron’s hand over the table, of leaning in and whispering things to him and laughing at his responses, acting the part of the loved-up couple that they actually were in full sight of their co-workers. JJ and Derek were sitting at the bar keeping watch, and Spencer and Dave were sitting in a van outside with the lead detective. Every now and again she’d look up and see Derek smirking from behind his alcohol-free beer, his amusement clear as he exchanged comments she couldn’t hear with JJ. Emily avoids the gaze of her best friend, the curiosity in her eyes that looked a little too close to realisation for her liking, and continues to focus on Aaron, on the feel of his hand heavy on her thigh. 

As the evening drags on she starts to feel someone watching them, the familiar prickling on the back of her neck that had been almost permanent when Ian was hunting her down. She casts a glance at a man a few tables over. He looks away, but not before she can see how he’s looking at her, a way she’s been looked at since long before she understood its meaning, and she turns back to Aaron. She leans in close, her lips against his ear, “I’ve spotted someone who might be our guy.” 

Aaron looks over too, his grip on her tightening when he spots the man looking at her like she’s a piece of meat, like she’s there just for him to look at. “I see him.”

She places her hand on his cheek and makes him look at her, her eyes firm but tender as they meet his, a subtle shaking of her head that lets him know she has all but read his mind. That she knows exactly what he wants to do to the man they’d come here to find for even just looking at her. She loves him for it, for wanting to protect her from something that was truly nothing in comparison to everything else, and she can’t help but wonder when the idea of him protecting her stopped annoying her, when she started to want him to do it.

“This is what we came here for, honey,” she says, the gaze of the man in question burning the back of her neck whilst Derek’s and JJ’s burn into her cheek. She lets her hand drop to his shoulder, “We should go outside. See if he follows.” 

He nods, squeezing her hand once more before he gets the waiter's attention and asks for the bill. Aaron catches Derek’s eye on the way out, his hand on Emily’s back as they nod at each other, a silent agreement he and JJ would only be a few minutes behind them. When the cool air wraps around them Emily shivers, leaning into Aaron’s side on instinct, chasing the warmth he always had an abundance of. She wraps her hand around his and tugs him into the opening of the alley, smiling as she pulls him close. She boxes herself in between him and the wall, the brick rough and cold against her back contrasting the warm softness of him against her front. 

“What are we doing?” He asks, unable to stop himself from smiling, something about her presence that always brought it out of him. A balm to his soul that he thinks he must have always been looking for. She shrugs, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as she pulls him closer, smiling when he instinctively puts his hands on her waist. She nods towards the other end of the alley, at the man who’d followed them out and looped around the restaurant to try to cut them off. 

“Putting on a show,” she whispers just before her lips touch his, sighing at the familiarity of it, the comfort it brought despite the reason they were doing it. They lose themselves in it, his grip on her waist tightening as she sighs, her nails scratching at his scalp as she pulls him impossibly closer. They’d shared all kinds of kisses in the last ten months. Passionate. Soft. All consuming. Gentle and comforting and everything in between, but she thinks this might be her favourite type. Familiar. Loving. The kind of kiss she can see herself sharing with him every day for the rest of her life.  

She’s pulled from it at the sound of Derek shouting, announcing himself and JJ as FBI as they pull their guns on the man in the alley with them, still far enough away that they were never in any danger, his own gun dropped to the floor.

Aaron steps away from her as Derek handles the arrest, clearing his throat as he tries to act as if they hadn’t just been caught making out by the team, even though it was part of the plan. Emily reaches out and wipes her lipstick from his lips without thinking about it, a habit she only realises she’s doing until she’s pulling her hand back. They both look towards the end of the alley when they hear someone clearing their throat, and Emily sighs as her eyes meet Dave’s, knowing they are caught simply by the look on their friend's faces. The varying degrees of confusion and knowing smirks painted across them. 

“Looks like our couple here has a little explaining to do,” Dave says, his smirk only getting wider as Emily glares at him. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Emily says, running her hands down her dress to smooth it down, the material creased at her hips where Aaron had been manhandling her. 

“Come on, Princess,” Derek says, his eyebrow raised as he puts the unsubs cuffs on a little tighter than necessary, “Even Reid could tell that wasn’t a first kiss.”

“Hey,” Spencer says, his arms crossed, “I’ve kissed people before.” 

Dave turns to JJ, “I think we solved the mystery of who Emily’s boyfriend is.” 

JJ hums, pulling her phone out of her pocket, “Pen will be delighted.” 

“Can I please remind everyone we are still on a case,” Aaron says, finally snapping back into Unit Chief mode, clearing his throat to try and distract himself from the embarrassment burning in his cheeks, “We still have work to do.” 

“Fine,” Derek says, cutting over the conversation, smiling as he hands off the unsub to the local cops, “But if you think we’re staying quiet on the jet home you’ve got another thing coming.” 

Emily sighs, her arms tight over her chest as she watches the rest of them leave, grateful they at least had the decency to give them a few seconds alone, “It just had to be Idaho,” she grumbles, “Couldn’t have been somewhere closer to home just an hour flight away,” she looks up at Aaron, smiling softly at the slightly shellshocked expression on his face, “This is going to be a long flight home. Think you can scare them into not asking any questions?” 

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he laughs and shakes his head, wrapping his arm around her to pull her close to stamp a kiss against her forehead, “But I don’t think I’d be able to stop them even if I threatened to fire them.” 

[lunarriviera]

hi hey hello i have started watching a new crime drama and I AM OBSESSED. it's called 雪迷宫 or, for some reason, The First Shot, although it should be more properly Snow Maze. it's a period piece set in 1997 and it's produced by ZHANG YIMOU which must be why the production values are actually good??? anyway i am here to tell you all about it and why you should be watching it okay here we go

first of all there's a big hot dumb cop, zheng bei. yes that's huang jingyu and you might not like him because of his apparently quite sketchy personal life but all i care about in this case is that he's tall, and thoughtful, and a police captain who's protective of his people and a little bit of an idiot. my catnip tbh. (i guess he was in addicted too? somehow breaking the you-can-only-be-in-one-BL rule?)

(ETA that by "dumb" of course he's not dumb at all, only by comparison; cf. my own stupid meta on this fascinating topic)

then there's an effete genius consultant, gu yiran (wang ziqi), who knows everything there is to know about drugs. he comes from the south to help these ignorant northerners form an anti-narcotics unit. he's such a massive nerd, the team doesn't like him until they realize that he runs 10k every morning and can outrun motorcycles and is actually quite useful. then suddenly it's no longer "gu-laoshi" but is all "ran-ge" this and "ran-ge" that. he can't dance for shit. i adore him.

there's a superb seven-samurai style Assembling The Team sequence in which this cop is brought in as the muscle. Her nickname is mad dog yao and she kicks the ass of an entire club at one point. we love her. her only problem is that, not unlike zhang haixing in tibetan sea flower, she will in fact fight a wall. here's gu yiran's face after a drug dealer mistakenly underestimates her and she stomps on him.

one of my favorite things about this drama so far is how poor the police are. it's 1997 in a dinky northern precinct and these cops ain't got shit. no computers. rudimentary cellphones. barely any forenic analysis, and most of that is on pieces of paper. no bullpen. no interrogation rooms. they have to interview suspects at their desks.

captain zheng is so underpaid he can't even afford a real pointer for his situation board, he has to go outside and get a literal stick.

drives his dad's chicken delivery van. has to slam himself against the front door to open it. everything about this is absolutely perfect.

i'm only on episode 7 but this shit is already brotastic. please behold:

yes that is an actual line from the show. yes gu yiran has to live with captain zheng, they can't afford fancy accommodations for him. turns out there's a trundle bed made out of paper clips but that's okay, they still get plenty of cosy domestic time together.

and that's also what i already love about this drama—in spite of being about anti-narcotics, it's also very slice of life, very daily city life, with meals and neighbors and friends and family and did i mention food, there is so much eating in this drama. it's gorgeous. also i'm improving my colloquial chinese by leaps and bounds.

of course you are you stupid service top, now take care of the baby.

and those are just some of the reasons why you should be watching the first shot, which is funny and suspenseful and unexpectedly brainy and well-cast and has beautiful opening credits. there are 19 episodes on youku's youtube channel right now and the subs are shockingly high quality. i'm hooked, and also so mad at my day job because i can't just binge it, pls join me in this handbasket

[that-one-kiddo-in-the-back]

Fun fact: I was that anon that Lily responded to about Hunter having no one in that reaction you just posted.

I was 15 at the time, and I actually got into Lily’s content because of her Disney movie in minutes videos and LGBT in animation videos. I thought she was direct and funny. I loved the owl house but found her takes on the show post season 1 to be…off

She was hyper-fixated on race for some reason, and didn’t like Luz in season 3 (who she defended and made videos on btw) because…she was sad for a mistake she made? She delved into these issues before, but for this show it seemed like that was the thing she was most passionate about. Some positive takes, sure, but the negative ones seemed to fuel her the most. But it was her takes on Hunter that really had me confused. It’s like she was watching a completely different show than I was.

I sent that ask not as a hyper-fixated Hunter loving moron as she called me, but as a fan of the show that didn’t understand her hostility to a specific character that…didn’t really do anything to deserve it? A character she hated so much it made her turn against the show (allegedly)

Long post (sorry!) but I just wanted to comment about how hurt I was that Lily was just so rude and nasty in that response. She really put anyone who defended him into the same “racist boring, hates POCs” bubble and just never left it. I was a fan, and how she reacted soured my taste in her instantly. Unsubscribed, unfollowed, done. Now I’m hearing about former friends calling her toxic, and her bullying YouTubers reacting to her content. I feel embarrassed I ever supported a creator like that…

She was awful in the Steven Universe fandom, she was annoying in the Star Wars fandom, and she was awful in TOH fandom. Beware!!

Wow, that sounded terrible.

Don't be embarrassed for having followed her content and liking it. Most people in the critical community used to be fans of hers. I used to be a fan of her as well when I was like 14. I just see this as people growing up and thinking for themselves.

I think Lily lost a lot of followers over her take on hunter and even more so "hollowed mind." And it didn't help that she called people who relate to Hunter,"racist fascist that are a part of hitlers youth." It's one thing to just not vibe with a character, but it's another to act like he's the worst character to ever have screen time.

Despite the fact that she's been on the internet for years, she can't handle being online.

Unfortunately, Lily treats all of her fans like that. She'll yell at them for not sending money that right way, All of her exes were fans of her, and She'll answer asks with hostility. Lily is just all around, not a good or nice person.

I'm sorry you felt so hurt by Lily simply because you asked a question.

[buckgasms]

...god forbid soemone hurt bunny and buckys littlest girl. Bunny recently has come into a phase of pretending to be a perfect stay at home mum who bakes all day! Naturaly she just pretends that she's made all the cakes and pastries when really it was kitchen staff. She bought a cute apron and everything! Her and bucky first foster is a cute little 7 year old girl that they both adore, sadly the school she's going to is treating her pretty poorly. She was bullied a lot before they got her and no one did anything about it- the first incident of a teacher being horrible to their little rabbit made them see red. So naturaly when that same teacher pages a visit to the strip club bunny had to make herself known and hurt the bastard.

After the incident bucky got a private teacher who'd come to their home and teach their little rabbit away from prying eyes.

I can see the two becoming yandere parents if I'm honest

Omg nonnie!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You absolutely sold me on the idea 🤣 i really really love this.

Bunny playing housewife is amazing, because yes she has mellowed but she still has her cute little quirks. She wants to create the absolute perfect home but has none of the patience to do it, so yeah store bought dished out onto an expensive crockery is the best she can do.

I feel like when they bring in a new foster the other kids have to explain that we all just pretend she cooks the food herself and makes their beds and all that normal stuff.

They don't mind though, because as a couple they all know Bucky and Bunny have their backs no matter what. It's not about the material stuff, it's the fierce love and devotion they are given without question that the kids all love.

And it's funny because normally they adopt teens but they took a chance on a little girl, only 7, obsessed with princesses and Disney, and they realised how much they love this little rabbit and would burn the world down to make her happy.

Oh just imagine.

She comes home from school, quiet and red eyed. None of her usual peppy chatter about some artwork she created or a game she played in the school yard.

None of the other kids can get her to explain what's up, so they tell Bunny.

Bunny sweeps her little rabbit into her arms and cuddles her tight and comforts her until she feels better. Bunny's heart pounds as she hears about this dumb ass substitute teacher who told their rabbit to stop talking, criticised her handwriting, told her stickers were not appropriate for her maths book.

Tears abound.

And when Bucky finds out about it?? Heads are gonna roll.

Obviously Bucky has plenty of cuddles for their littlest rabbit and assures her that the teacher won't be there tomorrow to upset her but of course she can have a week of school to recover if she likes.

That evening Bunny is in the passenger seat of Bucky's car, driving through the city, down some grubby streets until he pulls to a stop outside a unimpressive brownstone.

"Is this a good idea? Are we setting a good example for the kids?" Bucky asks as he steps out, reaching for your hand as he joins you on the sidewalk.

You lean up and press a kiss to his cheek. "You are so hot when you're being a good dad... And they don't need to know about the specifics, they just need to know we've got their backs, no matter what..."

20 minutes later they are climbing back into his car. You take his hand in yours and press a kiss to his bloodied knuckles. You both feel satisfied he won't be upsetting more little kids, especially not your little rabbit.

You also probably have wild sex in the car before you get back too because you just have so much pent up energy and horniness at how fucking hot he is.

The next morning everyone is happy to see little rabbit laughing and giggling again with Bucky and you at breakfast over her favourite pancakes.

They don't mention the swollen knuckles or the buzzy look on your face as you hand them all packed lunches for the day and send them off with a kiss.

I feel like having a private tutor in their home wouldn't work because Bucky doesn't want strange adults in his house. I think once she goes back to school and everything is back to normal you are both satisfied.

Omg I'm also imagining if little rabbit does a few unhinged things that make them love her even more. Like she plays with Barbie's, but the storylines are all about spies and subterfuge and you walk in on her conducting a fake interrogation with a little flash light shining in Ken's face as she scowls at him??????

Omg I die, nonnie what have you done to me!!!!!