#I think Ill make a gif post for all my favorite parts of this later idk tho

[xdaddysprincessxx]

Scarecrow

Serial killer Farmer Joel x f!reader

(Part of the In every lifetime universe, takes place before so like 1965 making Joel early 40s in this)

Warnings: Dead Dove : Gore/horror, Joel is a serial killer = he kills ppl, smut, noncon, virginity loss, inappropriate use of farm equipment, death/no survivors, oral (f receiving), dead bodies, dismemberment, slapping(face & pussy), 1 head flying, i believe that’s it, again Joel is a very bad man in this.

Summary: It’s almost Halloween! You and your friends decide to go to Farmer Joel’s corn maze for some spooky fun! Except your boyfriend is being a dick and starts to poke fun at Joel, ruining the fun. For you and your friends at least.

A/n: @multiversed-daydreamer this one’s for you babe! I took heavy inspo from Texas Chainsaw Massacre and elements from various slasher movies. This is very much a horror movie in words. This is dark and fucked up. ⚠️ Proceed with caution ⚠️

‘Two more bodies found’ ‘The fifth victim found in connection to string of disappearances’

The headlines of every newspaper and the topic of every whispered conversation around town has you on high alert. There’s been a total of what? Seven victims now? You think. No one’s sure who’s doing it but every other day it’s the same story. Someone goes missing, a few days later their body pops up, tied to a post in a field, dressed up as a scarecrow. Only except these “scarecrows” have their throats slit, multiple stab wounds and more times than not, missing limbs. To say you are terrified is an understatement. These murders have been happening for the past three years, always during the fall too.

As you sit at your kitchen table, sipping your morning coffee, your phone starts to ring. Getting up to go pick the phone up off the receiver, phone still attached by a curly cord, you answer.

“Heyyyy girly!! You already know who it is!! So guess where we are going tonight!” You hear your best friend Lucy shout into the other end of the phone.

“Lucy what are you talking about? Going where? Do you not see the news? I’m not about to go anywhere and risk dying.” You reply with a giggle, knowing damn well these murders aren’t going to stop you or her from going out and having fun.

Laughing out loud, “Well we’re going to drum roll please!” Clap,clap,clap sounds through the phone, “We’re going to Farmer Joel’s corn maze!!” Lucy all but shouts. “Annnddd you should totally invite your little boy toy Brad!” She adds with mischievousness in her voice.

“Lucy! Oh my god stop!” You giggle, “Brad and I aren’t even official yet! We’ve only gone on one date.” You say as blush begins to cover your cheeks. You all used to go to high school together. Brad was the star quarterback on the football team. You and your group of friends kept to yourselves. So when you moved back after college, you were surprised when you ran into Brad at the grocery store and started talking. That’s when he asked you out on a date. Nothing crazy special just dinner and the two of you catching up. Afterwards he awkwardly kissed you goodnight as he dropped you off at your house.

“Ooh and I think Frank and Janet are also coming too! It’s gonna be so much fun! Okay be ready by 7!” Lucy exclaims.

“Okay ill see you then!!” You say before hanging the phone back on the receiver that’s hanging on the wall.

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By the time 6 o’clock came around, you’d already been ready to go. Your anxiety never allowing you to just chill. Dressed in your favorite knee length blue floral dress and white cardigan paired with your favorite pair of Mary Jane shoes. You were ready for a fun night with your friends and potential new boyfriend.

Before you knew it, you heard knocking on your door. Standing up from the couch, you smooth out your dress and grab your purse that you place across your body as you go to answer the door.

Opening the door, you reveal Brad standing there wearing his high school lettermen’s jacket, looking quite handsome. “Hey Brad!” You say as you walk out the door, shutting it closed behind you.

“Well hey there cutie pie. You ready to go out to Farmer Joel’s corn maze? Maybe we’ll get lost in there.” He says, winking suggestively at you.

You slap him on the shoulder playfully, “Oh my god Brad you are so silly. Even if we do, we won’t be alone!” You say as you try to let him down easily. As much as you do like him, you aren’t ready to do anything sexual with him. After all you’re still a virgin. The two of you walk hand in hand to his car where your other friends Lucy, Frank and Janet are waiting.

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The sun is starting to set as you pull up to Farmer Joel’s place. He lives out in the middle of nowhere with tons of acres. He moved to Chesterfield about 5 or so years ago and ever since, every fall he always does a corn maze and hay rides for everybody. The hayrides ended about an hour ago and soon the corn maze will be closed for the night as well. You and your friends have about an hour to enjoy the maze and make it out before closing. Most of the families that came out tonight are leaving already probably due to the chill in the air. Still you can’t help but notice how sparse the crowd is as you and your friends walk up to the corn maze.

Joel’s standing off to the side of the maze entrance, looking rather intimidating in his overalls and steal toed boots. He’s chatting with a couple who just came out of the maze when he looks in your direction. For a split second you swear he was looking into your soul. You couldn’t help but feel a chill creep up your spine.

“Hey buddy! How are you doing old farmer Joel? Looking good for your age. How old are you? 65?” Brad says as he starts laughing expecting everyone to join in. Your friends give a tiny giggle, not really sure why Brads picking on Joel for his age.

The couple Joel was talking too just rolled their eyes at Brad and said their goodbyes to Joel before walking away.

“Very funny kid. I see you’ve got jokes. Tell me, how’s life post high school? Do anything worth mentioning or are you still stuck reliving your wonder years?” Joel bites back, not taking this stupid punks shit.

“Hey man fuck you. I was the best damn quarterback Chesterfield High has ever seen! What the fuck have you ever done? Huh?” Brad retorts back.

“Brad stop it. You’re being an ass. Come on let’s go through the maze before it closes. I’m so sorry Mister Joel don’t pay him any mind.” You chastised Brad while also apologizing to Joel for brad for being such a child.

Joel just stares at you again, seemingly penetrating your very soul. You swear he can see inside your mind. He just grunts and lifts his chin towards you as you grab Brad by the hand and drag him into the maze.

The maze itself isn’t terribly long but the aisle you have to walk through is rather small. You and Brad lead the group while Lucy is to your left just slightly behind you and Frank and Janet side by side in the back. After a few minutes you come to a fork.

“Let’s go right guys. This way we can get out sooner.” Janet suggests, having the hebbie jebbies ever since Brad and Joel had their little showdown.

“No no let’s go left, come on guys let’s take our time and have fun. Old man Joel can wait on us.” Brad tells the group, trying his best to take charge.

“No Brad I don’t feel comfortable doing that. Come on let’s just go right and get this over with and we can go to IHOP and hang after.” Janet begs Brad and the rest of the group.

“How about this? Me and Janet will go right. You guys go left. Lucy pick who you wanna go with.” Frank says coming up with a neutral solution.

“I’ll go with these guys. We’ll meet y’all at the end!” Lucy says to Frank and Janet.

The group splits off, Frank and Janet going right and you,Brad and Lucy going left. The three of you walk in silence for a few minutes before you hear what sounds like a scream. All three of you jump. You quickly grab onto Brads arm as Lucy grabs onto your arm.

“What was that?” Lucy whispers. Scared to be louder than a whisper so she’s not heard by whatever that was.

“I dunno girl. That’s super creepy. Do you think it was Janet? I hope they’re okay. M-maybe it’s just Frank scaring her.” You whisper back, trying to remain logic even though your heart is about to beat out of your chest.

“Girls. You guys are so easily scared.” Brad says, rolling his eyes. “You can’t scare me bro!” He shouts to the void.

By now the sun has set, leaving you, Brad and Lucy shrouded in darkness. There’s a couple of lights behind you at the entrance and you can see a couple more closer to the exit but that’s it. Complete darkness. And now that you notice, complete silence too. All of the other guests must have left by now leaving you and your friends here by yourselves. The three of you keep on walking when you hear snapping of a corn stalk before you feel Lucy’s grip on your arm leave. Looking back to see what she’s doing, you see that Lucy is gone. Literally vanished into thin air.

“Lucy? Lucy? Where are you?” You say in the loudest whisper you can manage. Frightened you grip onto Brad even harder, “ Brad let’s get out of here. I’m scared.” You tell him.

“Babe come on there’s nothing to be scared of. They’re playing a stupid little prank on you I’m sure of it.” He says with an air of confidence.

Terrified, you just nod your head holding onto him for dear life as the two of you continue walking through the maze. Soon enough you two are walking out of the maze.

“See babe I told you everything is fine.” Brad says.

Letting go of his arm, you shake out your arms, stiff from the tight grip you had. “Whatever Brad let’s find the others and go.” You say as you look at him.

Before he can answer you, a pitchfork shoots out his chest causing him to gurgle on the blood now flooding his mouth. The pitchfork slides back through his body as you let out a blood curling scream. Brads body slumping over and falling to the ground revealing Farmer Joel standing behind him, pitchfork in hand.

Paralyzed with fear, all you seem to be able to do is stand there with eyes wide and your mouth still open. Joel throws the pitchfork down, practically gliding over to you, picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder in one smooth motion. Immediately you start banging your fists on his impenetrable back, flailing your legs.

“Let me go!! Please! I- I won’t go to the cops or anything! Just please let me go!! I don’t wanna die!!” You scream at Joel, begging for your life.

Joel just grunts at your begging,swatting you on your ass as he takes you into his barn in the back, a good ways away from the maze. And for some reason your body absolutely betrays you because why on gods green earth should that give you such a good feeling in your lower stomach. A tiny part of you hoping he does it again. Once inside, Joel drops you like a sack of potatoes onto a hay bale that’s been placed against a wooden post. Before you can even make a move he grabs your arms twisting them behind you and tying you to the post.

“No use in screaming honey. Nobody can hear you out here so it’d be in your best interest to keep quiet.” Joel finally says as he finishes tying you and walks around to face you.

“Please mister Joel please I promise I’ll do whatever you want just let me go! I don’t wanna die! Please . .” You sob, hoping this man has a sliver of mercy inside his body for you.

Joel just stands there, staring at you for a quick second before walking back out of the barn. As you sit there you notice your body betraying you further as you feel yourself start to get wet. Between him spanking you and now being tied up, a part of you is excited from the treatment. You’ve always found Joel to be handsome. Big, broad shoulders, rough hands from working on the farm, those gorgeous brown eyes. But you saw him kill Brad! He probably killed the others too you just didn’t have any proof. It must be the adrenaline rushing through you, that’s it. That’s why you’re feeling like this.

After what felt like hours being stuck inside the barn, you hear Joel’s boots thudding on the cold, hard ground followed by what sounded like wheels? That’s when you see Joel pushing a wheelbarrow piled high with your friends. On the other side of the barn, directly across from you, Joel dumps all the bodies of your friends into a pile. The bodies make a sickening thud when you notice their arms and legs have been severed from their bodies, Brads head rolls away from the pile and lands up right, staring at you.

Terrified, you let out a bloodcurdling scream. He cut brads head off!!! All of your friends have been dismembered!! You were already scared for your life, if that’s what he does to them, what’s Joel gonna do to you?!

Your scream hurts Joel’s ears, the high pitched sound causing him to flinch. After dumping the bodies he drops the wheel barrow and stomps over to you. Picking up that punks head by the hair, he throws it back to the pile. Once he reaches you, he can’t help but to slap you across the face before covering your mouth with his hand. His other hand going to the back of your head, grabbing a fist full of your hair, yanking to make you look at him.

“Be quiet girl! I already told you ain’t nobody can hear you! I don’t wanna hear that shit!” He growls in your face. You shut up immediately. He continues to cover your mouth and keep his fist in your hair as the two of have this stare down. After a few seconds, Joel breaks first and drops his hands as he looks away. Grunting he starts to untie you from the post. Once untied he unceremoniously throws you back over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, knocking the wind out of you. He leaves the barn and starts towards his house. As scared as you are, you decide your gonna do what he says and stay quiet, hoping he’ll take mercy on you if you behave.

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Slamming the door closed behind him, Joel makes sure to lock all three locks and the chain to ensure you can’t get out. Still carrying you, he can’t help but notice how your ass sticks out from your dress being pushed up from being thrown over his shoulder. It’s been so long since he’s last had a woman. And a man has urges you know. Deciding in a split second to change his plan, he instead takes you up upstairs to his bedroom.

Soon enough Joel is flinging you onto his king sized bed. Sitting up you can’t help but stare up, wide eyed at Joel as he towers over you. You’ve never really noticed how tall he is. It’s almost intimidating how he looms over you. The way he’s manhandled you has caused your slick to pool in your panties. All of these emotions have left you so puzzled; he’s a murderer. You saw your friends dead. But yet you find yourself wanting to look deep in his eyes before he bends you over his knee to spank you as punishment before making you take every inch of his cock in your tight virgin pussy. Joel begins to bend down and take his boots off, throwing them one by one to the side. Nervous, you slowly scooted back towards the head board.

“You a virgin girl?” Joel asks in a gruff voice as he places a bended knee on the bed. You shake your head yes nervous as to what he’s gonna do with that information. He slowly makes his way onto the bed, now on both of his knees, crawling toward you with a hungry look in his eyes and a creepy smirk on his face making you scooch back even more. Feeling like an animal about to be attached by it’s predator.

“Good. Just how I like my women. Pure. And all mine.” Joel says in a low baritone voice, “Don’t worry darlin’ you’ll like what I do to you. I’ll make sure your untouched pussy can take my cock before I fuck you.” As much as you try to feel reassured that he’s not gonna make it hurt, you’re still scared. You’ve never been touched. The most you’ve done is some light kissing and hand holding. And now this scary man who turns you on and frightens you is going to take your virginity. Your back hits the headboard forcing you to acknowledge you have no where to go. Joel reach’s his hand out and grabs your calf, pulling your leg causing you to slide down leaving you on your back and his face directly in front of your cunt. He bends down, his nose going up and down your covered slit as he breathes in your soaking wet pussy. The feeling of his nose on your most private part sends tingles throughout your vagina and up your whole body. You can’t help by shiver from the feeling.

“Mm you smell so good baby” Joel says, breathing in deep before laying a chaise kiss on top of your mound. Joel looks up at you, You are frozen, unable to move or say anything but lay there and watch this man. The two of you hold eye contact for a few heartbeats before you feel Joel’s rough hands grab your hips and begin to peel your panties off of your body. You lift your hips to help him reveal yourself to him, wanting to feel his touch down there again.

Once your panties were off and flung to the side, Joel looks back down and let’s out a low whistle, “Damn baby looks like you want this. You want my cock pretty girl? Need a man to show you how to fuck? How to suck cock? Need me to make this cunt feel good?” He says as he takes his thumb up your slit, putting a little pressure on your clit and holding it there.

You sigh at how good that felt. Starting to feel all your thoughts melt away when you felt a slap on your cunt, making it sting, “Ouch!” You exclaim

“Answer me when I’m talking to you girl!” Joel barks at you as he slaps your pussy again.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’ll answer, I-I’ll be good, I’m sorry!” You sob after a third slap. Joel reached up with his other hand and grabs your cheeks causing your face to be smushed as he pulls you towards his face, “Tell me you want this. Tell me you need my hands, my fucking cock or I swear to god I’ll take you back to the barn and leave you to rot with your friends.” Joel demands, you nod your head yes, “Yes. Yes I- I need you Joel . I-Joel please, please I need you, I-I I need your cock.”

Joel leans forward, meeting your face, causing his nose to press into your nose, “Good baby. That’s what I wanna hear. I don’t wanna hurt you darlin’ but I will. I need you to be good okay? Be my good girl.” He says, shaking his head yes as he said those last words, closing his eyes. Inhaling deep, as if he can’t get enough of your scent. You shake your head yes with him, “I’ll be good Joel.” You whisper, causing Joel to open his eyes and look deep into yours. His lips part in awe as he glances down at your lips. Even though your mouth is squished, he still looks at you like your the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. That’s when he presses his lips on yours. Kissing you deeply, taking your breath away. It’s not a soft kiss by any means. He is putting a good amount of force into the kiss while also keeping your head still so you have no type of give in your neck. Soon you feel his tongue lick your lips, unable to keep his tongue out of your mouth, you have no choice but to open your lips a little wider than they already are and accept his tongue on your mouth. Joel roughly sticks his tongue in, licking all around the inside as though he’s trying to eat your face.

After a few minutes of a sloppy makeout session, Joel pulls away, letting go of your face. Moving down your neck, leaving a trail of wet open mouthed kisses. His large hands roaming all over your body, caressing up and down your sides before he raises one hand and grabs your tit giving it a squeeze. You let out a moan at that, having never been felt up before, it feels so good. Your moan spurs Joel on and pulls your dress down, revealing your breasts to him. Looking down at your boobs, Joel smiles, looking quite pleased with himself before darting his head down and capturing a nipple in his mouth.

“Ooh o-oh. Joel t-that feels so good.” You say breathlessly, looking down at the man suckling your breast. He twirls his tongue around, flicking your nipple with his tongue causing them to harden before he lightly bites down. Letting go of your tit, Joel gives you a smirk before he makes his way back down your body. His face back in between your thighs. Poking out his tongue, he gives your slit a light lick as if he was testing out to see your reaction. You couldn’t help but suck in air, completely entranced to see what he does next. That’s when Joel dives right in, holding your lips open with his thumbs as he licks a wide stripe from the bottom of your pussy up to your clit. The wet muscle then begins to flick and twirl all around your clit but never on it. He’s so close to where you want him. But the feeling of his tongue all over your pussy is the most exquisite feeling you’ve ever had. You can’t help but roll your eyes back as you reach down and card your fingers through his hair, intertwining your fingers in his brown curls. The slight tug of his hair has Joel whimpering into your pussy. Joel lives for praise, he needs to be told how good he is so feeling you let go and hold onto him has him even harder.

You’ve never felt like this before. It’s almost as if your on a roller coaster about to go over the drop. That’s when you feel a thick finger probe your opening. Joel tests your cunt to see just how tight you are, barely able to get his finger inside of you, “Relax baby ‘sokay it’s supposed to feel good.” He says as he works his finger into you more. Once he’s able to insert his finger, he lets it sit there for a beat before he starts pumping his finger in and out. The feeling causing your whole body to heat up, at first it hurt but now. Oh fuck now, it feels so incredibly good. You start breathing harder, moaning more, legs start to shake as Joel begins to finger you even harder. You feel your wetness gush out of you and soon you feel yourself go over the drop of a roller coaster you’ve found yourself on.

“Fuck that’s it baby fuck yea you’re ready for me now” Joel says breathlessly, excited to pop your pretty little cherry. Taking his finger out, he quickly gets off the bed and takes his overalls off revealing his thick, hard cock that’s already weeping with precum.

Joel takes himself in hand, giving his dick a few pumps, “This is all for you angel. Gonna make that cunt mine.” He says as he gets back on the bed, pulling you down so your on your back, underneath him. Still high off of your orgasm, all you can do is lay there. Your whole body feels like jelly. You feel Joel swipe his cock through your folds a few times before you feel him start to push the tip in. That’s when your whole body seizes up from the sharp pain.

“Ouch! Wait! Please, it hurts!” You try to plead with him, your words cause him to stop for a second as he looks down where your bodies are connected.

“Shh baby it’ll be over soon. The pain doesn’t last long. Just take it like a big girl.” He says, “just relax f’ me”

Joel watches you take a deep breath and he plunges his cock all the way in your freshly popped pussy. The shock of it all, the pain is almost unbearable. After a few seconds of his cock being inside of you, Joel being nice enough to give you some time to adjust to him, it begins to feel . . good? You can feel his cock throb inside of you, making your pussy get wetter.

“M-move. Please” you stutter. Joel grunts at that, pleased you relaxed enough he was able to fully get inside of you in one swift thrust. He starts to thrust, going hard with no real build up to the pounding he is now unleashing on your cunt. After a few minutes of Joel thrusting on top of you, grunting and sweating in your face, his movements start to stutter.

“Oh fuck oh fuck baby I’m gonna cum I’m gonna c- uuuhhng!” He grunts as he fills your pussy with his huge load. Ropes and ropes of cum shooting deep into your womb, so much so that it starts to leak out of you.

Joel pulls himself out of you and sees his cum leaking, tsking “Now we can’t have that. Nah that needs to stay right in there.” He says as he gathers his cum on his fingers and pushes it back in your sore pussy. Once satisfied with his work, Joel sits back on his calf’s admiring you.

“So fucking pretty like this baby. But you made a goddamn mess. My sheets are all wet and bloody. You know why it’s all bloody baby?” He says in a sarcastic tone, “because I fucked you. I popped your pretty little cherry and now you belong to me.” he says snarling at you. Still, you haven’t moved a muscle, continuing to lay there scared of what he’s gonna do next now that he’s had his way with you. Joel grabs you by your arm, dragging you off the bed. Dumping you on the floor he goes to tug the sheets off his bed. Throwing the soiled sheets on the floor next to you, Joel turns and walks out of the bedroom to grab fresh sheets.

When he walks back in, that’s when you finally get some strength and stand up. Shaking like a leaf behind him as he struggles getting the fitted sheet onto his bed, you start to slowly inch you way towards the door, ready to run for your life.

All too soon, Joel finishes with the sheets and turns around only to see you standing close to the door. Staring at each other you break your eye contact to glance at the door and back at him. Joel then glances at the door and back at you right as you lunge towards the exit letting out a scream as you do so. Except Joel manages to slam his body into the door before you get there, shutting it with his body as he grabs you by the arm again, “aht now what do you think your doing sugar? Just gonna ride me hard and put me away wet? You’re mine now, you’re gonna keep your sweet little ass in my house. Warm my bed!” He tells you, shaking you with each word as if it’ll shake some sense into you.

“I wasn’t leaving! I promise! I-I I need to use the bathroom! I wanna clean myself up for you! Yea yea I wanna clean up so I smell good and look good. All for you Joel.” You try to sound convincing knowing damn well he sees right through your words. Joel just purses his lips and gives you this ‘do you think I’m that dumb?’ look. Yanking you over back over to his bed he shoves you on it.

“Get your ass up there. I’m fucking tired so we’re going to bed now. I’ll give you the grand tour of our house in the morning baby.” He says as he gets in bed next to you. Terrified you do as he says, there’s a good chance he’s a heavy sleeper and you’ll be able to sneak off once he’s asleep. Joel pulls the blanket over the two of you, you on your back and him on his side facing you. Once under the blanket, Joel wraps his arm around you, giving you a tight squeeze.

“Sweet dreams sugar and welcome to your new life.” He says in a sleepy voice.

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Joel managed to keep his arm wrapped around you all night long. The sun is starting to come up and you haven’t been able to get away all night. That’s when Joel grunts in his sleep and rolls over, releasing you from his grasp.

This is it! This is my chance! I gotta go before he wakes up! Oh my god oh fuck okay I can do this. I will do this, you think as you slowly slip out from underneath the blanket and pour yourself slowly out of the bed. Joel continues to snore, oblivious to your actions. Walking on tip toes you make it to the door, stopping to check to make sure Joel hasn’t heard you yet. You manage to crack open the door just a little before it starts to creek. Scared, you stop all movement. Staying absolutely frozen to the spot, you hear Joel stop snoring and start to move around. After what felt like a century, Joel begins to snore again. Your heart has never beat so fast in your life. Taking a deep breath you continue on your top toes out of the bedroom into a hallway. Moving as quickly and quietly as you can, you walk past a couple of bedrooms before making it to a set of stairs.

Oh my god I’m doing it! I’m so close! Thank god!! Okay okay I’ve got this! You give yourself a pep talk in your head as you make your way downstairs and over to the front door. Fucking hell. There’s so many locks!! Shit shit okay calm down! Start with the first one and work your way up. You begin to unlock the bottoms lock. Click. Whew! Okay now next lock. As your turning the lock you hear the floor creek behind you. And that’s when you feel him at your back.

“Now where the hell do you think your going?” Comes the gruff voice of a man who woke up to his new woman sneaking out.

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“A new body has just been discovered. This is coming a week after the discovery of four new victims of the Scare Crow killer. A female, believed to be in her twenties, has been found impaled by a wooden post, her body dismembered and limbs sown back on and gutted, dressed up as a scarecrow.”

Joel sits down at his kitchen table with a bowl of cereal, watching the little tv he has sitting on the counter to keep him company. Huffing at todays news as he digs in, “It’s a shame. I liked that one. Really hoped she keep my bed warm for a lot longer.” He says out loud as milk drips down his chin.

A/n: whew! Okay this is a hefty boy! This literally came from @multiversed-daydreamer going “I need farmer Joel to be a serial killer and chase people in the corn maze” as soon as I read that, Farmer Joel was born. Obviously this is very much horror, I took inspo from horror movies. I kept returning to the 2003 Texas Chainsaw Massacre and the 1995 Texas chainsaw: the next generation while writing this, while also using other slasher movie elements. This is a one shot. I doubt I’ll ever return to farmer Joel but I did have fun writing this and just going balls to the wall with the horror lol

I’m not going to tag anybody just because of the nature of this. 💜

[wheresmymilliondollarman]

aaron warner x ferrars! reader pt. 4

(continuation from part three)

who knew running a new country was so hard? spoiler alert: apparently everyone but you and your sister. your asylum days never looked so simple.

a/n: hi… i’m back 🔥🔥 i’d like to start by apologizing for the stupid long wait. it was unfair to my readers and i swear i had no intention to leave people waiting. i genuinely forget sometimes people really like my writing </3 and i truly am grateful to the people who read. let’s jus say i have been busy and yet so unmotivated for the littlest things. i won’t bore w the details i’m sure y’all are jus happy i finally posted part 4. again REALLY sorry for the wait and pls enjoy. also now adding borders to my fics (ill edit the old ones too)

word count: 9k

warnings: few plot changes, fights and feuds, violence and blood mention, castle slander, angst, buzzcut aaron 😣😣😣

things were finally looking up for the rebellion. you'd manage to overthrow the supreme commander and his army, the reestablishment no longer ruled over your part of the land - making it open to new possibilities of government.

you never wished you paid attention in your social studies classes until now.

there were so many regulations you had to learn, matters you had to discuss, and, of course, the never-ending paperwork. your least favorite part. it didn't help you were behind on learning the fancy terminology for topics. 'can't people ever just say what they mean?'

juliette's optimism for being a leader was diminishing every time she had to meet with castle on strategy. he poorly disguised his disapproval of leadership upon every encounter.

but you learned to ignore it along the way. it wasn't as if he was ever the perfect leader either, plus you'd get the gist of the whole leadership thing soon. you silently prayed.

in the midst of all the responsibilities, you had to keep aaron from killing kenji most of the time. they were originally getting on somewhat friendly enough terms, but that was before the incident occurred.

that day, kenji barged in with urgency into your room as you were looking over papers. he went on to say there was a 'serious' problem, and you worriedly assumed it had to do with the reestablishment. but it instead involved your boyfriend.

"seriously kenji? i thought we were under attack or someone died!"

"someone will die if you don't handle your boyfriend right now. hopefully better than you've been handling being supreme comm-" kenji was cut off by the click of a gun.

"i dare you to finish your sentence."

with the barrel to his head, kenji quickly defended his words with the barrel to his head. aaron and him bickered back and forth. kenji turned to you for help, but all you did was shrug and mouth 'karma.' then he hit kenji's head with said gun.

"okay, that's enough, can someone explain to me what the issue is here?"

"this is the issue." aaron then turned to reveal chunks of different sizes along the back of his head. you gasp at his ruined hair.

"oh my god, kenji what the hell did you do?"

"i gave him a trim just like he asked!"

this made another argument burst out between the two. kenji denying his mistake and aaron picking the gun back up and threatening to kill him.

"aaron put the gun down."

aaron reluctantly does so, but his glare at kenji doesn't drop.

"phew, thanks, princess."

"kenjii since you "trimmed" warner's hair, i think it's only fair that he does the same to yours." you proclaim.

kenji looks toward you in horror, "no way!"

aaron wastes no time in going to the bathroom and returning with a razor. he gives him a terrifying smile, "i'm only going to trim the edges."

kenji bolted out of the room a second later, complaining about favoritism on the way out.

aaron ended up having no choice but to shave the rest of his hair, leaving him with a military-style buzz cut. you would mourn the longer hair, but truthfully, it did nothing to tarnish his looks.

sector 45, after sending several invitations, finally received a rvsp for an international leadership conference held at your sector. from oceania, is what delalieu told you and juliette.

you started to come to the realization about the lack of history you knew about warner. sure, you knew him deeply now, but you knew so little about his past. castle made it evident when he mentioned to you and juliette his possible connection to oceania's leaders. castle, annoyingly, did not disclose anymore and insisted aaron needed to be the one to tell. yet, he judged how little you both knew about oceania.

warner being immersed into his work left little time for that. while aaron had been helpful in your learning some etiquettes, he'd been closing off his emotions since he father's death. even after many attempts of trying to get him to open up, he vowed he was okay. you had a slim to none chance of prying information about oceania from him.

you felt lost and angry. for being supreme commanders, you and juliette seemed to be almost always out of the loop. castle regarded you as experiments, seeing how two naive teenage girls could survive being leaders. the rest of the world wasn't any different.

you offered the idea of just reading castle's mind, but juliette thought it could lead to mistrust toward you. she believed you both needed to remain calm for the moment, which is what you have done so far. but you were getting a bit bitter playing nice for so long.

at times you felt juliette left you of the leadership issues. she insisted to be the one to tackle meetings and discussion with castle, she sometimes gave answers before even discussing it with you, and even delalieu seemed to report everything to her first before it got to you. you would never bring it up, and just wrote it off as her still getting the hang of everything. but in the back of your mind you worried it was only a foreshadow.

on the way to see the new headquarters, castle rushed to you. he begged you and juliette to reconsider taking warner with you to greet the guest downstairs. you had no clue what he was on about, but played along and told him warner wasn't needed. you quickly caught on to the situation.

you rushed back to your room, put on what you deemed appropriate clothing and freshened up your hair and face. you were still putting on your shoes when you left.

on the way, you thought about how odd it was juliette didn't even bother to inform you. even if you were busy, you both had pagers to contact one another for important events such as this one.

you hear sounds of greetings as you approach the reception. you luckily hadn't missed out on much.

you see kenji along side juliette and feel a pang of betrayal. juliette was subtly shocked and kenji was confused to see you. but you cover it up with a smile as you turn to see the guest.

"apologies for my delay, i was held up with some prior matters." you hold a hand out, "it's a pleasure to meet you, i'm y/n."

the guest introduces himself as haider, and you can't help but notice a glint of recognition as he looks you over.

but that was forgotten as you came to find out haider wasn't aware of the fact sector 45 had another supreme commander as it wasn't mentioned on the invitation. you told him it must've been a mistake, but you threw a questioning glance to juliette.

you felt yourself get lost as the meeting when on. haider didn’t make it discreet he knew warner very well. he made a brief comment on his relationship with the other supreme commander children.

“i’ve got to say, when i first heard about warner being involved with a girl — i had strong doubts. he has never been the relationship type. unless you count lena. oh, but i’m sure you know all about her by now. they were together for almost two-years after all.”

you had no idea who lena was, but you had a strong sense you wouldn’t like the answer. haider had obviously knew this, and faked ignorance with his comment.

“oh. he hasn’t mentioned his ex-girl friend?”

your heart dropped. you glanced at kenji and juliette from the side of your eyed and they held the same face of surprise. you did your best to remain unphased with a polite smile.

“must’ve just not been important enough to discuss. like right now. i’d prefer if we got back on track of the topic instead of digging into my personal relations.”

if haider was impressed or offended he didn’t show and shifted subjects. you tried your best to listen in as juliette spoke with him about dinner, but the thought of warner having an ex-girlfriend floated around in your mind for the rest of the meeting.

the second haider left the room, and you all burst into a discussion for the next step. dinner would be in less than an hour, and you were still filled in with little to no information about haider and his intentions. you knew the next step would be for you to talk to aaron about it, but you weren’t sure you could be alone with him with this newfound information about his past. you got juliette and kenji to come along with you to question him under the excuse that it would be easier than relaying whatever he told you.

before you three could do that, you didn’t forget their actions before this meeting. you knew it would be the worst time to discuss especially with how limited time was, but you spoke without thinking when you saw juliette heading towards the door.

“why didn’t you tell me about this meeting?”

she sighs and brushes you off saying it wasn’t the most important subject right now. but you already begin, so you thought you might as well get some answers, and pushed her for an explanation.

“we’re suppose to be in this together, how could you leave me in the dark—”

“because i didn’t think you could handle it, and quite frankly, castle agreed with me.”

“what?” you were dumfounded by her response.

“you’ve been so unruly lately, and i get it doing this whole supreme commander thing has been challenging — but i couldn’t afford anything with this meeting.”

“unruly? just because i don’t want to listen to every little thing castle says. news flash, he’s made it quite clear he doesn’t support us leading sector 45.”

“he knows far more than us, we should take what he says wisely.”

“j has a point y/n, castle has a lot of experience—” kenji intercepts.

“shut up! you’re just as guilty as juliette. i thought we were friends and then you help juliette hide this meeting from me!” you spit at kenji.

he stays silent, for once. but it says more than enough for you. you turn your bitterness back to your sister.

“was it his idea to only put down you as the supreme commander on the invitations, too?”

“yes.” she reluctantly admits. “castle wasn’t sure if the idea of two supreme commanders would go well over with orher sectors. i swear, y/n, i only found out once they were already sent.”

you didn’t care for reasoning. you were angry at it all. “i agreed to do this for you! it was you wanted us to do this together! ”

“and maybe i’m starting to regret that.”

your face dropped. juliette’s eyes widened as she realized the weight of her words. but it was too late to apologize.

you scoff, “alright. fine. go ahead and do it yourself. go and question warner about haider yourself and talk to castle and beg for his help for dinner. because i’m done being supreme commander. but it’s not like i ever was, right?”

you can’t help but leave a final comment before you stalk out the door, “you know what’s funny? i found out about the meeting because castle wanted me to tell you to not do it on your own, to bring warner, he said. guess you’re unruly to him too.”

with limited options of locations juliette, kenji, or warner wouldn’t be able to find you, you had to resort to being hiding in your old room you were once held captive in.

now less clouded by anger, you facepalmed yourself. perhaps just quitting being supreme commander had been a rash decision. you weren’t even quite sure if you could just quit like that. but you would rather be jobless than take back your words to juliette.

maybe she was right, you are quite unruly. but you had no plans to admit it to her.

you thought back to aaron. you wanted his comfort, but you still were upset about the ex-girlfriend situation. even if you said it was important, you had somewhat of a right to know when your boyfriend was in a past relationship.

you hated how castle was right about how much you lack knowledge about aaron’s history. and you know you should probably be there with kenji and juliette talking to aaron, but you were too prideful, and a little embarrassed to do so.

so you collected yourself as made your way back to your room (taking twists and turns to avoid anyone you didn’t want to see) to prepare yourself mentally and physically for the dinner to come.

unfortunately for you, aaron was sitting on your bed waiting for your return when you stepped into the room. you we’re unsure on how to greet him since he likely was informed about earlier events through juliette and kenji.

“oh my god, you scared me.”

“my apologies, amor. but i had to see you after you you didn’t arrive with kenji and juliette when they went to ask me about haider.”

you went into your closet as he spoke from your bed, picking out a nice dress for dinner. “got into a fight with them and it didn’t end well. then i dramatically quit being supreme commander.” you explained nonchantly.

he was taken aback, “you quit? just like that?”

“yeah.” you confirm walking out the closet with a lilac dress on arm, “you think this’ll be good enough, or it it too much?”

“you’ll look astonishing as always. but don’t change the topic, what happened to that headstrong nature of yours i admire? you can’t just give up after a silly fight.”

you groan, and toss the dress on tour bef next to him, “i really don’t want to talk about it right now. can’t you just tell me what shoes go with this dress?”

“amor.” aaron stands up and interwines his hands in yours, “please don’t shut me out.”

you bitterness rose back up at his words and you drop aaron’s hands. “that’s ironic coming from you.”

“amor, please don’t pick a fight with me.”

“castle once told me i didn’t know you as well as i thought. and he’s right, aaron. any mention of your past and you close right up.”

aaron sighs, “i’m not an open person, you know this. it’s harder for me to talk about my personal life than it is for you. but i mean it when i say i am trying for you.”

“really? then why didn’t you even bother to mention you knew haider. or how about the fact you have an ex-girlfriend! you know how embarrassing it was for someone from a different continent to tell you more than you knew about your boyfriend?”

“lena?” he asks furrowing his brows. “she was barely a girlfriend. haider likely only mentioned her to rile you up and it’s working, so please calm down.”

“oh my god. there you go again! you want to just sweep it under the rug, and i’m tired of it. all i want is a little more openness from you.”

“i have been open, there’s no one closer to my heart than you. please understand that just certain subject are—“

“hard to talk about, yeah i’ve got that.” you exasperated. “i just think it’s important to mention a two-year relationship.”

“it was purely physical.”

your heart stings. “so, physical relationships just mean nothing to you? everything physical we’ve shared hasn’t meant anything to you?”

“that’s not what i meant. i was different back then!”

you turn around, “just go warner. i’d like to be alone right now before dinner.”

aaron didn’t anything else, he knew your word was final. not because of his sense of your emotions, but by the fact you used his last name.

in less than an hour you managed to fight with every person close to you. and you had to see said people at dinner in less than ten minutes. somehow, you blamed castle for your luck.

delalieu knocked on your door to escort you to dinner. you weren’t sure of aaron had told him to or perhaps he had pity that you would be entering alone. either way you were happy to walk with someone you weren’t upset with.

luckily, you had arrived before the guests did. but unluckily, kenji, juliette, and aaron were already there. your usual spot was next to aaron and infront of juliette, kenji sometimes next to you or her. but juliette sat at the head of the table now, kenji to her right and aaron to her left. you had no choice but to awkwardly sit next to warner due to the limited seating. plus you’d rather not show haider theres issues amongst you four.

kenji and juliete silently conversed, your sister ignored you fully while kenji glimpsed at you with a small frown. you could feel aaron turn in your direction, but your gaze focused on the empty seat next to you.

haider arrived shortly, greeted aaron first with a hug, one aaron was visibly discomforted by. then discreetly spoke, both using arabic tongues. which none of you knew he had. ypu almost choke on nothing as he casually reveals aaron know seven languages. the rest of you greeted him curtly, and he took a seat in front of you.

haider wasn’t the only guest at the dinner, his sister nazeera showing up was a bit of a surprise to the rest of you.

nazeera is gorgeous, with her smooth carmel complexion, dark eyes and strong features. her face held diamonds percing; two on her eyebrow and one below her lip. she wore a wrap that covered her whole hair, and it did nothing to lessen her beauty — it enhanced it.

she stared at juliette before she turned to you. you were unsure of the expression she held, and part of you wanted to just find out yourself, but you knew better.

both you and juliette stood up to greet her, and she accepted politely. she gave aaron a mere nod then proceeded to sit down next to you, instead of her brother. but if anything it gave you more of a reason to not talk to the people beside you.

aaron started the conversation about her scraf, but kenji was the one who made an offhanded comment regarding her head scarf, which you learned was called a hijab, claiming it was banned to wear them since it was stabled with religion. nazeera didn’t shy away from answering, she stood her stance and didn’t care for reestablishment rules despite being a supreme commander’s daughter.

nazeera has a sharp tongue and kenji was not prepared for it. you tried to hide you smile as kenji got more flustered with his words. she was highly more likable than her brother.

“are all the other supreme commander kids like this?” you ask her.

“only the ones who aren’t insufferable.” she stands up from her seat, “so, no,” she tells you with a wink. nazeera then announces her departures and leaves the dining table.

you had a good feeling about her. and even though you and juliette were at odds, you knew she also admired nazeera already.

aaron and kenji bickered a bit before haider bid his goodbyes. aaron took the liberty of escorting him to his quarters. a job that likely should’ve been done by you or juliette, but frankly, you didn’t like the guy much to care.

now juliette, kenji, and you sat in an awkward silence. part of you wanted to mend things with your sister, but majority of you felt she should take the first step. kenji looked ready to say something, but held his tongue.

you figured it was the most you’ll get, so you mumbled a goodbye and headed off to your room.

half way there, you stopped. even if you felt you were the one in the right, you were ready to make the first move if it meant rehashing things with your sister and best friend. you rerouted back to the dining room.

before you could enter, you heard talking. you peeked through the slit of the open door and saw nazeera, juliette, and kenji talking.

suddenly, and ugly feeling boiled in your stomach. seeing them all conversing (mainly juliette and nazeera because kenji was mixing his words) made you realize how perfect the three looked together. almost natural. it made you think of how easy it would be to replace you. nazeera would be the one teasing and messing with kenji. nazeera would be the sister you imagined juliette wished she had instead — one who was confident, witted, and courageous. everything you lacked these days.

maybe they just didn’t need you nearly as much as you needed them.

you couldn’t even place your vexation on nazeera. you just met her today, and she was already someone you knew was amazing as she presented herself.

you never entered the dining room. you left before anyone could notice you dejectedly walking away.

the following morning wasn’t better. delalieu knocked on your just as the sun was starting to rise, your restless sleep did nothing to help wake you up. he informed you you’d been invited to accompany haider, and nazeera would likely be joininng. you nodded, thanked him, and sent him on his way.

as soon as the door closed, you grabbed the nearest pillow and screamed into it. haider was already being a pain, and it was his second day.

worst part was, delalieu failed to mention haider had also invited others.

you were unpleasantly surprised to see all three of the people you quarreled with arriving after you.

you weren’t sure who to walk aside. but on instinct you stood next to aaron before you could remember your vendetta. juliette was on one side of haider and you were on the other. nazeera and kenji followed closely behind.

it was unbearably silent the first few steps, there wasn’t a word uttered. the tension would’ve needed a axe to cut.

you couldn’t help but peek at aaron from the side of your eye. you quickly looked forward when you accidentally made eye contact. he sighed quietly after. you hated how badly you had to clench your fist to prevent yourself from latching it onto his.

haider broke the silence. he asked warner if he would be attending the continental symposium. you and juliette only knew briefly about it. no one ever mentioned the nature of the event to either of you.

but when juliette inferred haider about it, you both realized how big the event was.

“i wasn’t sure whether you’d both attend since the late supreme commander anderson has never attended public gathering.”

“we’ll both very much be there.” you add in quickly.

“of course, we aren’t hiding from the world,” juliette adds in, “when will it be?”

haider’s eye slightly widened as if she asked an incredulous question. but it made sense after he revealed it would be in two days. he innocently answered, but you knew he was satisfied having caught juliette off guard.

“it’s really my fault for that. juliette’s been so diligent with managing all other issues i thought it would be better if i took it off her shoulder’s and handled it. but silly me, i’d forgotten to keep her posted on the date.”

you jumped in with an excuse to defend your sister because even if you two weren’t on good terms, you wouldn’t let someone try to toy with her.

juliette looks to you grateful for the help, and you give her a small smile in return.

aaron added in, “she’s right, we’re finalizing the program with delalieu today, who is hard at work planning the details.”

you give his hand a tight squeeze as a ‘thank you’. but as you try to let go, aaron’s hand engulfs your tightly to stop you. you try to wiggle your hand a little, but eventually it it be.

you bite the inside of your cheek to keep you from smiling.

aaron asks haider for his plans during the remainder of his stay. he mentions catching up with old friends then goes on to say juliette and you must’ve received numerous invitations from the other kids of supreme commanders.

“we haven’t gotten the whole group together in far too long,” haider says.

you raise a brow, “whole group? just how many of you are there?”

suddenly everyone stops as haider’s demeanor goes from unauthentic sincerity to ice cold. it almost scares you.

he harshly grabs aaron’s arm,wretching your hands apart, and pulls him forward. haider asks angrily if he’s shared little to nothing about ‘them’ with you.

“you turn your back on us for this — this child? how stupid could you be? you have to know it won’t end well, i promise you that.”

“hey! let go.” you protest.

haider scoffs and ignores you. “i thought it couldn’t be true you’d fallen for a psychotic girl’s insignificant freak sister. i defended you, just to find out it all true. what the hell happened to you?”

you’d had enough shoved him away with your gift, hard enough to cause him to stumble back a little.

haider was stunned by the sudden force then notices the red aura from your hand.

“what did you just do?”

you shrug, “how could a child like me do something? but if you touch him like that again you’ll end up just like the last supreme commander. i promise you that.”

“is that a threat?”

“why don’t you find out?”

haider laughs, almost delighted by the fact you threatened to basically kill him. everyone else unintentionally lets out a breathe they didn’t know they were holding, especially juliette who had been ready to intervene.

haider requested to speak with aaron alone, promising to keep his hands to himself. you and aaron shared a look, and you knew he’d be alright. he gives you a smile that was made for you, and you return it.

the fight from the say before was long forgotten. you knew no matter how many fights you’d have, you’d do almost anything for him.

part of you still hoped for a grand apology, but this would be more than enough. now, you hoped to eventually make amends with the other two.

you walked off, not quite sure the destination. you figured you might as well go on a walk yourself since the planned one got disrupted. but a hand grabbed your arm to stop you.

“hey, uhm,” it’s juliette’s voice, “do you think we could talk? i mean..later because we’re all so busy and obviously you have stuff to do-“

“yeah.” you smile, “i’d like that.”

you both share heartfelt grins. you wave at kenji and nazeera from your spot and walk back toward the base. this time, with a happier kick in your step.

a good few steps in — you felt it, an abrupt change in the environment. it was almost too eerie, and you realized there was no one in sight, not even the guards who are meant to follow you from a generous distance.

you came to the conclusion it was no accident when the first shot punctured your shoulder. the second through your side.

you scream in agony to as you attempt to flee from the open, but more bullets ensue. you manage to block a few with your energy, but the pain was painful enough to leave some to hit your busy, such as your thigh. but the one that made you topple over was a bullet near the chest, in almost the same spot anderson once shot you.

you managed to block it before it was a fatal hit, but it hit you enough to be painful and draw blood.

you were half conscious, the world foggy and blurry in your eyes. you felt someone approach you and kneel down to tower over your defenseless body. a sudden pressure on your neck woke you up enough to understand this person was choking you to kill you.

you used whatever energy you had left to try and push the person off of you. the lack of oxygen and the increase of black spots made it hard for you to focus on pushing the person off.

your adrenaline kicked in to created enough power to get the man off of you. as soon as he groan in pain, you started to feebly crawl away from the perpetuator. your blood likely dragging on the concrete now. but they composed fast, and grabbed onto your ankle. you fid what you could and grabbed the nearest rock and hit them on the head with it. but ir wasn’t enough to stop them from grabbing you again.

at that point you were worn out, too tired to even move a muscle. the loss of blood was starting to make you woozy, and the bullets seemed far more painful than you remembered. you couldn’t register you were on the verge of death.

but the pressure on your neck never returned. instead came the noises of violent punches and broken bones. a new person crouched beside you, you knew they meant you no harm as they assessed your wounds and chanted assuring words.

in your deliriousness, you babbled on about how they looked like your friend kenji, one whom you fought with and missed so much.

“i’m sure your friend misses you too.” kenji responds, doing his best to keep you awake.

you blacked when another person, stronger than the first, carefully carried you and rushed toward the base.

in the medical bay, you were in and out of consciousness. you remember sara and sonya hurriedly tending you, kenji freaking out in the back, and aaron worriedly beside you. your first thought was, ‘where’s juliette?’

unbeknownst to you at the time, juliette was getting her wounds treated as well. she had been shot too, but not nearly as fatal as you. she was caught off guard alone as well, but her attacker only aimed to disable her. nazeera had been near by when she heard the commotion and saved her.

juliette was shot moments before you, and aaron believed it was worked as a distraction so your assailant could successfully kill you.

kenji was the one to find you. after juliette had been injured, he went to find you and arrived in the nick of time.

it took almost two days before you could wake up fully without passing out every minute. the first face you saw was aaron — who was already at your beside, holding your hand tightly — almost like he was praying.

when he noticed you’d woken up, his face became relaxed. he pecked you on the lips before badgering you with questions about your state. you assured him you were alright, and had to repeat it over and over.

your body still ached greatly due to the poison laced in the bullets sara and sonya explained to you. your wounds were healed, but there were still possibility of hallucinations from the poison.

after asking for your sister, sara had informed you of her situation, but quickly told you she was alright after seeing your worried eyes.

the culprits had been caught and sent to the holding cells, but they had refused to cooperate. meaning there was zero information on who was behind both your attacks.

aaron was monitoring you intently, when you sat up he rushed to help. he hadn’t stopped holding onto you since you woke up, as if you’d disappear if he let go. his eyes were red-rimmed, but you didn’t comment on it.

you felt bad for giving him a near-death scare again, and berated yourself for leaving yourself vulnerable. even worse, since your sister had also been hurt. aaron put the blame on himself for leaving you unattended.

no matter what you said, warner seemed distraught. his eyes told you there was more to the issue, he was holding back. as he remembered what the issue was, he grew distant. his grip on your hand loosened.

“is everything okay?”

“as long as you’re okay, amor.” he smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “i have to speak with you about something.”

“about what?”

“not here. let’s get you out of here and cleaned up before we talk.”

you nod. you were more than ready to get out the the med bay. your thoughts went to the coming symposium, with you and juliette being temporarily mia, there was likely a plethora of things still needed to get done.

you were happy to finally get a chance to shower. the grime and blood were now down the drain. once done, you changed and went back into your room where aaron was waiting.

before he could get a word in, you embraced him tightly, and he didn’t hesitate to hold you. after almost dying, you just wanted the comfort of aaron. kenji would call you crazy for putting ‘comfort’ and ‘aaron’ in the same sentence.

you kiss him, after what’s felt like forever. it’s not fiery or rushed, but deliberate and emotional. everything was gone from your surrounding for a moment, it was just the two of you. you felt safe. but then aaron pulled away from you, and held onto your hands.

“amor, i need to tell you something. it’s important.” his eyes are looking at everywhere but you.

“you can tell me anything.” you reassure.

he takes a deep breath, running a hand through his blonde hair. your nerves begin to spike, you’ve never seen aaron so hesitant to speak, he’s almost scared.

“i’ll start from the beginning.”

and he did. he told you the start of the reestablishment, their campaigns, ideals, and plans to take over. then, he shifts to the ‘unnatural’s’ and how after they were discovered, they were exploited by the reestablishment.

aaron tells you about two girls who were willingly given over to the reestablishment to be experimented and tested on. you were getting confused on where the conversation was going.

“aaron, why are you explaining all this?”

“because one of those girls is juliette.”

you didn’t know what to say, you were thrown into a loop you still weren’t fully comprehending.

“i don’t understand..”

“the parents you lived with weren’t your biological ones. y/n, you’re both adopted.”

your reality was warped in a matter of seconds. you never felt connected to your ‘parents’, but finding out you came from a different family?

“w-wait… so the people juliette and i lived with for almost our entire lives aren’t our parents?” aaron nods.

“so where are our biological parents? are they alive? wait… who’s the other girl you mentioned before?”

your head was jumbled up, you were trying to get so many answering at once while still trying to process.

aaron closes his eyes for a second before the green is visible again. “that other girl is juliette’s sister. but it’s not you, amor. you and juliette are not biologically related.”

you were frozen, as if time itself had stopped. you free from aaron’s hands and distance yourself. everything had change.

aaron keeps speaking, saying he only knew of juliette’s real sister and parents and sister until recently. castle was the one who told him the information to put the pieces together. castle was the one who urged him to tell you because the reestablishment was was coming, very soon.

“there was no record of you before you were adopted, i had always assumed it was only juliette adopted. it was only after you came here and i ran your dna, along with juliette’s, did i find yours different from your parents.”

juliette wasn’t actually your sister. the parents and girl you grew up with aren’t related to you at all. everytime you talked to aaron about were grateful for juliette as a sister, he knew the truth the whole time.

it took you five minute of speak again. you didn’t care for the rest at the moment, you still had to have another question of yours answered.

“if juliette’s biological parents work for the reestablishment, where are mine?”

“i swear, i had no idea-“

“please. just tell me.”

the more you heart, the more your heart shatters. to stay and watch over sector 45 while his father left to the capital, anderson had him prove himself. it started with emmaline, juliette’s real sister. he was in charge of her imprisonment and torture. but then his father sent him one more task before he was supreme commander.

anderson transported a man and woman to sector 45, aaron was commanded to get information, by any means, out of them. it went on for a year, until anderson saw no value in keeping them anymore.

his father ordered a public execution, and aaron did as he was told. only when finding a journal of his father just hours before you woke up did he get the identity of those people. your parents.

it was the final straw to send you spiraling. you don’t know if you got on the floor or started yelling first. aaron knelt down next to you, trying to soothe you, but it was only making it worse.

you don’t even feel the tears are running down your face. aaron apologizes over and over saying, no matter how many times you told him to stop. you could only keep saying ‘why?’ over and over.

‘why did you keep this from me?’

‘why didn’t you tell me sooner?’

when aaron tried holding you, you roughly shoved him away. his touch no longer felt loving. instead, it became poisonous.

“don’t touch me.”

“amor, please. i love you, so much.”

“you don’t know how to love anyone. you’re a fucking coward.”

the room was suffocating you. you felt trapped and had to get out of there. you got up and booked it out the door, not stopping when aaron called out your name.

you keeping running and let your legs guide you to your destination. the moment you spotted the white door, you came to a halt.

you barge in with no warning, startling the two people in the room. you take big step toward your target and, without hesitation, you slap castle.

“oh my god— what the hell, y/n!”

kenji’s presence does nothing to stop you, “did you have your kicks keeping secrets from us this entire time?”

castle sighs, now unphased by your violence, “i assume warner told you.”

“we trusted you! and all you did was keep us in the dark about our own fucking life!”

“what the hell is going on?”

“does juliette know?”

“i talked to her not long before warner went to you.”

‘oh god,’ you thought. you worried that was the reason juliette has lacked to see you since you’ve woken up.

“miss ferrars, it was not my intention to cause pain to your or your sis— juliette.”

his error struck a nerve, “no, but it was your intention to be a liar and snake, screw you.”

you stormed out in a rage, not before doing a 180 on castle’s desk. you hoped he’d have the worst time cleaning up.

you ran. out of his office and out of the compound. away from it all. you finally stopped after being knee-deep into a forest.

not caring for your surroundings, you sat down on the nearest large rock. it was then you realized how much energy you exhausted. you took in deep breaths to regain your breathing stability. the oxygen filled your lung helped to calm you down for the first time in the past hour.

with no one around, you finally had the time to think straight without anger and despair clouding your judgement. you weren’t even sure if you could exhaust anymore tears.

but it turned out you did. going through the events of the past hour, didn’t help with processing as you thought it would. it only made you relive the heart-ache.

took half an hour to calm down your sobbing. but it was oddly comforting doing it in a place no one would hear you.

you decided didn’t wanna focus on everything you learned. not on aaron. not on being adopted. not on juliette not being your sister. not on your parents being dead before you got the chance to meet them.

you focused on what you could control — the coming continental symposium. it would be in less than a day. you had nothing prepared, not even attire; much less a speech.

you had no idea how you could show up and presume your personality from before. how could you face the supreme commander kids in a state like this? your thoughts wondered to juliette on what her plan would be. but then it hit you; how was juliette handling it?

when you thought about it, you hadn’t seen her all day. she didn’t see you when you woke up, nor before you and aaron talked. she likely didn’t take this news lightly, especially regarding her sister.

thinking about juliette having a sister, that wasn’t you, was painful. your bond wouldn’t be the same. you weren’t blood, juliette no longer had a reason to stand by your side.

despite telling yourself not to, you thought back to warner. his betrayal hurt deeper than castle’s. how could you trust him again? you couldn’t. it was over.

time passed like nothing being amongst nature. the once light blue sky, turned orange with pink hues, signaling the end of the day. you knew you couldn’t hide forever. you had to find juliette.

if your theory was right then juliette was not in her room. you brainstormed possible locations when you bumped into kenji.

“y/n? thank god, everyone’s been worried about where you went, and juliette—“

“where juliette? i need to see her now.”

“y/n… warner told me everything. i know it must be hard for you both, but i think typu both need some spac—“

you snap, “just tell me where she is kenji!”

“she’s not in the best state.”

“take me to her. now.”

kenji reluctantly leads you to the door of anderson’s office. when you saw it was locked, you pounded on the wood relentlessly.

“c’mon, let’s just go.” kenji persists.

“juliette! open the door!”

“go away.”

“juliette, please let me in. i wanna talk.”

“i don’t wanna speak to you.”

“well, i do.”

“you’re not my real sister, so leave me alone!”

“fine,” you scoff, “hopefully you treat your new sister a lot better than your treating me right now.”

“fuck you.”

“fuck you too!” you throw back.

“…bad time to say i told you so?”

you rolled your eyes at kenji’s remark and walk away. your anger resurged, and you needed somewhere to blow off steam. training room had been unfortunate to be your victim.

when you saw no one in sight, you took it as a sign to proceed. in a matter of seconds, objects where tossed across the room through your levitation. weights were scattered, some broken, benches were bent out of shape, even a few treadmills weren’t so kindly spared. you’d feel bad about the damage later, but it felt so good in that moment to get angry.

it was dark outside when your adrenaline was closing to nothing. your only had energy to sit on a mat laid across the floor. you figured you’d take a quick power nap before going back to your room to sleep.

as soon as you closed you eyes, you were passed out. you’d hadn’t realized just how much of your energy you exerted.

aaron warner was getting back from his debriefing with delalieu, when the open door of the training room caught his eyes.

he was more than dismayed to see the damage done to what once was the training center. he was irritated that he’d have to replace basically all equipment. aaron assumed there was violent fight that happened, but then his eyes fell upon your form sleeping soundly on the floor.

now, he was more impressed than annoyed at the damage done. he would’ve been slightly proud of he wasn’t the reason for you to lash out so brutally.

aaron picked up your limp body in his arms, and carried you off to bed; taking advantage of holding you again. because he wasn’t sure the next time he’d be able to.

you were disoriented after waking up in your room, wondering how you ended up in your room when you’d fell asleep in the training room. you threw the possibly of sleeping walking to bed in, but then decides you didn’t care much for finding out.

it had been much later than you anticipated, and you were surprised no one woke you up. you dressed swiftly and headed out the door, despite a dreading feeling brewing in your gut.

first stop was to find delalieu, who actually found you first. he informed you the arrival of the newest guests and listened as he listed name. you stopped when he uttered the word ‘lena.’

“lena? as in warner’s ex-girlfriend?”

delalieu says nothing, but his eyes are looking at the ground. ‘so that’s a yes.’

great, you thought. you broke up less than twenty four hours ago and his ex already shows up.

then delalieu tells you juliette is already greeting guests, so your presence is not mandatory. he likely knows all of yesterday’s events, including your fight with her, so he’s likely trying to prevent conflict before the symposium.

a stronger person would’ve bitten the bullet and showed up anyway. but you weren’t that stronger person today. you would take to chance to avoid people you didn’t wanna see at any point.

perhaps it was a coward’s way, but you believed after everything, you were entitled to have at least one day.

you busied yourself in the office of your room; approving symposium plan and decor, looking through letters, and going through anderson’s old files — provided by delalieu.

kenji came to see you three hours before the symposium. you pretended to not here it the first couple times he knocked, but he was annoyingly persistent.

you weren’t mad at kenji, he didn’t know anything before you. but didn’t mean seeing him was easy, his presence always reminded you of juliette. you three had always hung out. now he was stuck in the middle.

kenji told you nazeera wanted to speak with you, so you granted her permission to enter. nazeera was quick to her point and told you the reestablishment’s plan; destroying sector 45. she advised you and juliette presented yourself strong at the event, to show everyone you’re a formidable enemy. plus, there was the possibility of sudden danger because of the plans the reestablishment had for juliette and you.

you found sudden danger was just always a given in your life.

you weren’t sure how you and juliette could show up united, you both were at odds and still processing everything you’ve been told. it would be nearly impossible to act as if nothing has changed.

were you even still supreme commander? you weren’t sure you ever ‘unquit’.

but, differences would have to be put aside. because everyone will be watching for your next move. and it may or may not lead to the demise of sector 45.

you missed just shooting and punching enemies.

kenji stuck around after nazeera left. you both discussed the danger to come. then, he filled you in on anything you missed, juliette’s buzzcut, warner sulking, the new guests, and, your favorite, lena being humbled by juliette.

apparently, she’d been ‘eager’ to meet you and asked juliette about your whereabouts. she referred to you as an ‘ex-girlfriend’ is what kenji told you. how she knew about the break up, you had no idea.

juliette looked her up and down before telling her you don’t waste your time with other insignificant to you.

you couldn’t help but laugh, maybe you were judging lena before knowing her, but based on that interaction; it told you enough.

once kenji left to get ready, you decided you’d do the same.

your nerves spiked the closer it got time for the big event. you spent a good hour deciding what would be best to wear. you hadn’t realized you relied on warner for fashion help until that moment.

you settled on a floor-length gown with beautiful embroidered and beaded details. you tried to avoid putting any accessories gifted to you by warner, but it was nearly impossible.

you attempted a makeup look, and you thought you did a pretty good job. and if not, kenji never frayed from being brutally honest to your face.

a guard knocked at your door to alert you that it was time. you cross your finger before exiting the room. time to face everyone you’d been avoiding.

everyone who was to go to the symposium was gathered outside the base, awaiting the vehicle to take them to the meeting location. as expected, everyone was dressed formally.

warner was quick to spot you and hurriedly walked to you. you power walked to get away from him, and hopefully find someone you liked at the moment. but, nonetheless, he caught up to you.

“i don’t wanna talk to you.”

“please, amor. hear me out.”

warner pulls you close to him, holding your hands hostage at his chest. you look into his eyes, and you can see how tired he looks. he’s hadn’t slept well, and it was obvious.

“what could you possibly have to say to me?”

“what could i possibly not have to say to you?”

“i’m sure you rather entertain you’re ex-girlfriend over day, glaring daggers to us.”

“you know that’s not true.”

“do i? i don’t know anything that’s true lately.”

“i love you. my hearts burns for you greatly, and a moment without you is one i can’t bare.”

“i don’t want to hear—“

“my heart has always been yours. i’ll never be able to take back everything i’ve done, but i refuse to lose you because of it.”

“aaron.”

“you can scream or yell at me all you want, if it means you’ll stay by my side.”

his forehead presses against yours. his eyes are focused on every feature of your face that hes already committed to memory.

“say you forgive me, amor.” he whispers so vulnerably.

you want to kiss him. you want everything to be magically better after. you want to believe this is another challenge you both can overcome.

but you can’t. at least no so soon.

you’re holding back tears, but aaron already has one going down his face.

“i can’t.” you distance yourself from warner. “every time i see you, i’m reminded of your betrayal. reminded how much heart-ache you’ve caused me. it can’t be so easily forgotten, aaron. not when i still love you so much.”

you were thankful to be distracted when the guards informed you the rides were here. but your thoughts switched as you noticed you’d have to be enclosed with aaron, juliette, and kenji for fifteen minutes, especially when you had to sit next to warner because juliette was just as mad at him as well.

you the were first out given the chance. you were overwhelmed by the amount of people who showed. thinking about juliette and you having to speak in-front of them all was intimidating. and likely all of them hoped for your demise. fun.

now, juliette took the podium, and you were next to her. you two have yet to discuss anything, so you’ll have to wing your speech to match the tone of hers.

but before she could start, the chaos begins. numerous people being protesting and berating both you & juliette and sector 45.

it was all getting jumbled, but there were various ‘traitors’, ‘you’re just children!’, and ‘freaks.’

to defend juliette, you move to the microphone and angrily demand everyone to quiet down, you do your best to yell over the voices rioting.

out of nowhere, the stage you’re standing on explodes. you’re both launched ten or more feet back. then chaos ensues.

theres a ringing in your ear, making it hard to hear anything; only you witness it all from the ground. people running left and right, the stage was now on fire, and men in uniform started invading the premises.

you see juliette lying on the ground not too far from you. you croak her name, then aaron’s and kenji’s, but you’re not sure if you’re even using your vocals.

you feel yourself being dragged away, you’re unmoving. you feel numb, not able to identify which parts of you are injured.

it’s all happening on slow motion in your vision.

you can see the same happening to juliette. with your head above the ground you see a new perspective. you finally see your friends, some are lying motionless, others are running.

you find kenji helping others escape and aaron with him taking down as many guards. then aaron spots you being dragged away, and his eyes widen. he’s on the move to reach for you, but his distraction leaves an opening for a soldier to take him down from behind.

it takes five soldiers to hold him down, he’s yelling your name, and you don’t react. they finally hand cuff him, not wasting a moment to inject him with something strong enough to incapacitate him.

kenji follow the same fate, not being able to get away invisible before nazeera knocks him out.

a man stands in front of you, blocking you from seeing the scene. you recognize the black expensive boots immediately.

“seems we both have a habit of not staying dead.”

anderson lunges the barrel of the pistol against your head — then it all went black.

you were so sick of seventeen.

taglist — @ravisinghs-wife @tom-pls-fuck-me @valeridarkness @fallonaurr @whatsupb18 @letspretendimnottrash @heart-an0n @mrsspector-grant @kikilarast10 @nina357 @lupinswolfsbanes (some aren’t tagging D: ) tysm for the support <3

[maniculum]

Bestiaryposting Results: Glugreng

My apologies for posting a bit later than usual -- I was on the road most of the day for eclipse-viewing purposes, so it's already nighttime as I start this. (Update: and also Firefox crashed multiple time over the process of writing this post.) Anyway, we've got another vaguely-described bird, but one that I think has some interesting details.

If anyone isn't sure what this post is about, you can find an explanation at https://maniculum.tumblr.com/bestiaryposting. If you want to see the entry from which the artists are working, here is the link:

And in general you can see all of this stuff as it posts at the tag "maniculum bestiaryposting", assuming Tumblr's search function wants to show it to you.

Art below the cut:

@silverhart-makes-art (link to post here) continues to post very impressively-rendered beasts. Here, since the only physical detail we have about this bird is "white", they've decided to take inspiration from the fact that it is kept by royal households. Medieval nobility did keep birds, usually for falconry, so here we have a raptorial design. And look, it's caught a fish! Good work, bird.

@pomrania (link to post here) observes that cataract-curing excrement is probably pretty valuable and worth collecting, so here we see a bowl with a dollar sign placed under the bird's perch. Honestly my favorite part of this is the very intense, extremely-close-up eye contact depicted in the middle there. Something about the bird needing (or just choosing) to get really up in one's personal space in order to do the curative "looking in the face" thing is charming to me.

@kaerran (link to post here) also went in the direction of "what kind of bird would be hanging around royal households" and landed on peafowl. There are a couple really clever design decisions here: it intentionally has very visible eyes so it's extra clear whether it's looking at you, and the "burning off the sickness" thing is represented as the feathers from its train being shed. (And thank you for including alt text.)

@sweetlyfez (link to post here) went in an interesting artistic direction, I think: since the entry was very clear that the Glugreng is "white all over", she rendered it entirely in thick white paint -- I think the texture is quite cool. Also I love the crown-collar-thing; SweetlyFez notes that she's only seen that in heraldry, and I think that is the only place it really appears. (I've seen at least one piece of marginalia that had an animal wearing a crown as a collar, but I'm like 80% sure that's someone's heraldic device being put in the illustrations for whatever reason.)

@cheapsweets (link to post here) jumpscared me a bit with this one. More very intense eye contact, but this time directed at the viewer. They also made the connection royalty -> falconry, and drew a bird of prey. For more details on their thought process, please see the linked post. I like the very intense eye contact conceptually, but also I keep scrolling down so it stops Looking At Me.

@coolest-capybara (link to post here) has again drawn something that makes me smile -- the art style is of course amazing, and the straight-on view of the pelican just looks so charmingly goofy. They note that pelicans have "so much convenient space to store all your pesky illnesses," and now all I can think of is a medical version of that "Put Baby In Pelican Mouth" post. (And thank you for including alt text.)

@strixcattus (link to post here) was inspired by the bestiary's decision to state that the bird is "white all over" and "has no black parts" in the same sentence. Weirdly specific, right? So they decided to explore in their post why this repetition might be necessary -- regular readers of these posts may recall that Strixcattus writes modern-naturalist-style reinterpretations of these animals. I'm not going to tell you what they came up with. Go read the linked post. Do it.

In fact, you should read all the linked posts, and consider following any or all of the wonderful artists who choose to participate in this weird little exercise.

All right, Aberdeen Bestiary time. A couple people said in their entry that they think they know what this one is, and I am excited to learn what their guesses were.

Now, since this artist tends to draw raptors in a very standardized way -- this just looks like their eagle but all white -- it's probably not possible to recognize the bird in question from this illustration. However, of course, there's a much larger problem in the way of recognizing this species:

This entry is the caladrius, which does not exist. It's another one of those mythical critters that didn't really catch on in the modern era -- or a strange misunderstanding of a real animal, like the salamander was, but honestly those aren't so much distinct categories as far as I'm concerned.

On the other hand, if you have similar Internet Experiences to me, you might have recognized it just now -- as soon as I saw the Aberdeen Bestiary illustration, I had a moment of "hang on, is that..."

The above is from the 2015 article "Two Medieval Monks Invent Bestiaries" on The Toast. You can check it out here:

(The author is now Daniel M. Lavery, but the byline on the linked article still says "Daniel Mallory Ortberg", probably because The Toast has been defunct for several years so nobody is updating these things.)

Anyway, the "bedbird" is indeed the caladrius. I was able to find the image from the Two Monks article by looking through the gallery attached to the "caladrius" entry on bestiary.ca (which has 94 examples, so it's clearly reasonably widespread). The bedbird comes from British Library MS Sloane 3544. And... I'm going to leave it up to y'all whether you think this should end with the "i've connected the two dots" gif or that quotation about the mystery no one thought was a mystery. It's late, goodnight.

[thoroughlymodernminutia]

This Christmas - Prequel

Pairing: Benny "Borracho" Magalon x F!Reader

Word count: 8,219

Summary: This is a prequel of sorts to this from last year. It’s basically the how Benny and the reader met, etc

Warnings: Mostly Hallmark-style fluffy stuff, lots of pining, but brief mention of loss, guilt, some foul language. If I missed anything else let me know and I'll add it in. 

A/N: I don’t know folks, I started writing this and was really chugging along and had a whole plan for how I wanted this to be. Then I got sick with everyone’s favorite illness from 2020 and lost a lot steam. I found, I think, a happy compromise with myself because I wanted to post this before Christmas (self imposed deadlines am I right?) and realized I can always I don’t know, post more parts of it later?? I am my own worst critic so if you read this and it isn’t your jam, please don’t say anything lol I’ve probably already thought it, so it would be redundant! Also, clearly, I do not know the proper use of a semicolon, or an em dash and I don't have an editor, so we'll all just have to deal. Anyways, Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, all that jazz

-----------

It’s a little after six in the morning and they still haven’t rolled in. Usually, the five of them would have been here for an hour already; a few hungover, one still drunk, and the fifth one acting like an adult babysitter for the other four. It’s weird how this happens–people come into your little donut shop and after a while, instead of you becoming part of their routine, they become part of yours. Eventually they start to feel like stand-ins for the friends you hardly ever get to see. You’re busy with your business and they’re busy with their jobs and families.

It could feel lonely, but you have people like Noreen, who comes in every Friday to buy three dozen assorted donuts for her team. Noreen is kind and not the type of person you envision working at a private equity firm. When you were thinking about expanding into the small space next door, she looked at your plan and helped you figure out where you were being too aggressive and in some cases too shortsighted. She didn’t ask for anything in return, but you made sure her next three dozen donuts were on the house. 

There’s Will, a retired teacher, who comes in every Sunday. He used to come in with his partner, Charles, and they would sit at the table you have set up near the front window. They traded off different sections of the newspaper while drinking their coffee and sharing one old-fashioned donut and one raspberry jelly donut; they never strayed from those. Charles passed away six months ago and it was unexpected. You didn’t expect to see Will for a while, but routine is hard to give up especially when it’s the only thing you have left. Every Sunday morning you set a 'reserved' sign on the table near the window. 

There’s Stuart, who hangs out in the plaza your shop is located in. You’re not sure if he’s unhoused or just likes to spend his day outside, but it felt strange to always see him and not interact with him. One day you invited him to come by for coffee and a donut but he turned you down. You told him the offer was good for any time and that you hoped you’d see him in there soon. He came in a few days later and it made you feel like you were doing some good; and then you felt bad for feeling like that. Stuart’s reserved and not much of a talker so you just let him sit at a table while you go about your work. Some days he’ll start a conversation; it’s rare but it feels like you both trust each other enough to make more than small talk. If you don’t see him in his usual spot outside, you worry. He usually turns up a few days later, but you're concerned that at some point he won’t turn up and what are you supposed to do then?

There’s a handful of people that fall into this category of if they never came back you would notice. It’s because some of them are smart and kind like Noreen. Some because they sit in the same spot, newspaper sections still divided in two, like Will. Some because their silence fills your little shop, like Stuart. And some whose absence you would notice because they don’t fit into these boxes. Sometimes they can be loud or irritating; but they can also be entertaining. And they’re are always five of them, but only one that makes you feel like you’re thirteen and just saw your middle school crush.

They started coming in sometime in February. You only remember because the biggest one said he’s 'not eating a fucking, prissy, heart-shaped donut.' Some men are like that, afraid if they come in contact with something feminine that’s not a woman, that their dick will fall off. He was loud and obnoxious and only one of the other four looked truly embarrassed for the guy and for himself. He apologized for his friend and ordered five large coffees and a dozen glazed donuts. 

“You sure glazed are going to be manly enough for your friend over there?” 

You ticked your head over towards the table where his friends were sitting. He laughed and it was a surprisingly warm laugh for a man with neck tattoos. 

“He won’t even remember being here, let alone what kind of donuts he ate.”

He sounded annoyed but used to the behavior. You remembered having friends like that, in your twenties, but you were well past that age and so were these guys by the look of it. You saw him eyeing an apple fritter so you grabbed it from the case, put it on a plate, and set it on the counter next to the box of donuts. 

“On the house, since it doesn’t look like you’re getting paid for your babysitting duties.”

He smiled, said thank you, and then went to sit with his loud friends. You noticed he was quiet in comparison and thought it would be nice if they were all quiet like that. 

When they were getting ready to leave you saw that the quiet one made sure all the trash was thrown away and all the dishes went into the right bin. At the door as they were leaving he gave you a small wave thanking you again. There was something about his smile that made it feel like flowers were blooming in your stomach. That feeling carried you for a week. You’d think of that moment of him at the door and a fog would enter your brain and the flowers in your stomach would grow larger. 

The feeling would start to subside after a while and you would get caught up in your real life–your business, the rare time with your friends, the occasional bad date. It would slowly drift from the front of your mind to the back. Then they would show up and the cycle would continue. 

The one who had the soft smile and neck tattoo, you learned his name was Benny. And that if you gave him a choice between the apple fritter and anything else, he would choose the apple fritter one hundred percent of the time. The loud drunk, that was Big Nick and he’s only been not drunk five percent of the time they’ve come in. There’s Connors, Zapata, and Henderson–you’ve only heard them referred to by their last names. A thing that you’ve only ever heard men do. They all come in once or twice a month–usually early, usually hungover. It makes you wonder what they do before they end up at your place. You never ask because to know would be to probably ruin your crush on Benny.

Benny always pays and there’s a part of you that hopes he’s doing it just for the chance to talk to you. When he leaves he always gives you a wave goodbye and a thanks again. The flowers in your stomach have bloomed and blossomed to an embarrassing degree by the end of May. And that’s when they stopped coming in. 

—-

Benny shakes his head no at Connor’s who’s trying to hand him a beer, “Not feeling it tonight.”

Benny isn’t feeling it any night, but he keeps that to himself. The drinking, the cocaine, the women, none of it interests him and it hasn’t for a while. Since February if he’s being honest with himself. 

They had ended up at your donut shop, Glazy for You under random circumstances. The usual place they would go to sober up after one of these parties had been closed down by the health department. He should have known it was bound to happen, the place was dim and oddly seedy for a diner. Benny was the designated driver that night, since he hadn’t been feeling well he didn’t drink and spent most of the night ushering random women out of a grim motel room. When he saw Glazy for You as he was driving by, it looked like the complete opposite of his evening; it was bright, there were Valentine’s decorations on the window. It looked comforting and warm, two things he felt like he was missing in his life.

Nick of course was an asshole and Benny felt like he spent a lot of time silently apologizing to you. His apologies must have entered you mind telepathically because you gave him an apple fritter–the best apple fritter he’s ever had in his whole fucking life. There must have been some kind of magic in because that moment lodged itself somewhere in his heart and reappears when he’s feeling low. Like now–sitting in this motel room, on this couch that probably hasn’t been cleaned in two decades, watching his friends lose their fucking minds over shit they should have outgrown. 

Benny hasn’t seen you in months, ninety-seven days to be exact, not that he’s counting. They’ve been working on one case after the next and it’s left time for little else. No post drug test parties, no early mornings sitting in a donut shop waiting for everyone to sober up, no you. It’s been sleep and work for three months straight. Last time he saw you, it seemed like you were happy to see him. Maybe he imagined that feeling; misunderstood the warmth in your smile. Maybe that’s the smile that you’ve practiced in order to be able to perform it for everyone. Maybe everyone feels what he feels when they see you.

Benny sinks further into the couch and looks up at the ceiling. It’s a drop ceiling which brings back memories of a case he had worked on. While securing a crime scene, they were in the living room of a run down apartment. It had this same type of ceiling and a body fell right through it onto the floor. He thinks that maybe this is how it ended up being called a drop ceiling, because shit just drops right out. That thought, that memory makes him realize that he doesn’t want to be in this room anymore. He gets up, grabs his jacket off the back of the couch, and leaves. He hears Connors call after him as he’s closing the door but he doesn’t care. He only has one place that he wants to be right now.

—-

You’re putting a tray of bear claws in the display case when you hear the door open. It’s still early, the sun is barely up, pink and purple hues are still in the sky. You get a lot of municipal workers that come in at this time, barely past opening. So it’s a little bit of a surprise when you get a glimpse through the display case of Benny walking in, alone.

There’s a second while you’re crouched down, adjusting the tray that you let yourself be excited; allow yourself to give into the childish feeling of getting a glimpse of your crush. Your knees are wobbly as you stand up–unsure if it’s because you’re getting old or because he’s looking right at you.

“Oh hey, how’ve you been?” You wipe your palms on the front of the apron you’re wearing. “It’s been a while.”

You try to sound neutral, neither excited to see him or disappointed that it's been so long. He smiles and that familiar sensation of flowers blooming returns. 

“We’ve been working on a lot of cases and it’s been hard to find time for anything else.” 

You lean forward and rest your arms on top of the bakery case. 

“Cases? You guys are lawyers?” As the words leave your mouth you realize how truly stupid it sounds. You’ve never in your life seen any lawyers that look like these guys. 

Benny chuckles and rubs the back of his neck, something he does when feels embarrassed or self conscious.

“No, definitely not lawyers. Detectives. We work for the Los Angeles Sheriff’s Department.”

You fail at suppressing a laugh, “I’m sorry. All of you are detectives? Even your friend Nick?”

Benny knows your laugh isn’t mean spirited and if he were you, he’d probably laugh too, knowing what he knows about the people he works with. He moves closer to display case and leans in. 

“Even Nick. You seem surprised.”

“It’s just. I.” You pause, trying to choose your words with care, because you like Benny and you don’t want to insult him, “I mean, it’s hard to imagine being a victim of a crime or something and like Nick is the person taking your statement, trying to help you. That is my nightmare.”

You hope you don’t sound like an asshole, but the idea of Nick serving and protecting seems like a stretch. If you offend Benny, he doesn’t show it, he just laughs.

“The way that you’ve seen him, I can understand the sentiment. He’s not like that a hundred percent of the time. I promise.” 

You give Benny a joking look, “Okay, but what percentage are we talking here?”

You’re both laughing when the rest of the guys walk in. The rowdiness is a shock to your system after not dealing with it for a while. You look at Benny and he’s no longer leaning in towards you and maybe you’re projecting, but you think he looks a little disappointed too.

Benny’s disappointed, but he tries his best to hide it. The guys may be drunk, but they are cops and they are perceptive. Benny already knows he has a reputation among them as being soft. It used to bother him, but it hasn’t for a while. He knows he would rather be soft than be the type of man that can’t feel anything other than bitterness and rage. 

“Borracho, you fucking asshole, you left us.”

Nick, is of course loud and slurring his words. Benny hopes you can’t understand Spanish–he doesn’t want to be known as a ‘drunk’ to you.

Benny turns from you to look at the guys. Connors is propping Nick up; Henderson and Zapata are stumbling towards a table. 

“I was hungry.”

Benny hopes it’s enough to shut Nick up. He knows it’s not because he sees Nick loosen himself from Connors and stumble towards him. He claps a large, drunk hand on Benny’s shoulder and the force almost knocks him backwards. 

“Fuck, Borracho. You’re no fun anymore.”

Nick is a mess and that’s not really that surprising to you. What is surprising is how uncomfortable Benny looks. He has the look of a man who would give anything to disappear. You can’t really blame him, these guys, Nick especially, are exhausting to be around and you only deal with them for a few hours a month.

“Can I get you guys something or are you just going to loiter?”

Benny looks towards you and you give him a sympathetic smile. He shakes Nick off of him and is about to order when Nick lurchers towards the counter that you’re standing behind. You step back as he unsuccessfully tries to paw at you.

“I know what you can get me, sweetheart.”

Benny groans and runs a hand over his face, “Jesus Christ, Nick. Shut the fuck up.”

You step closer to the counter and lean forward, putting a hand on Nick’s shoulder.

“What did I tell you about calling me ‘sweetheart’?”

Nick tilts his head to the side and mutters, “That the next time I do it, you’ll put my head in the deep fryer.”

You pat his shoulder, “Good, you remember.”

You hear Zapata, Henderson, and Connors–who’s joined them at their table laughing and chanting do it, do it.

You gently push Nick away from the counter, “Go sit down unless you’re willing to see if I’m serious.” You look over at Benny, who no longer looks like he wants to disappear. “Benny, five coffees and a dozen glazed, right?”

Benny nods his head, “Yeah, that’s good.”

Nick turns around and starts walking towards where Connors, Zapata, and Henderson are sitting. He jerks his thumb back towards you, “She’s no fun either.”

Benny feels awkward standing here, watching you gingerly place twelve glazed donuts in a box and then pour five large coffees. It’s calming though, watching you do routine things, like you’re slowly rooting out the anxiety of being around drunk idiots. You put the coffees in a tray and place it down on the counter next to the donuts. 

Benny pulls out his wallet to pay, “Uh, sorry,” he pauses, he’s sorry about a lot suddenly, “sorry about Nick. He was acting like an asshole.”

You shrug and hand Benny his change, “Don’t worry about it.”

Benny is sitting with the guys and can’t help feeling like he’s messed something up. You didn’t give him an apple fritter like you normally do. He wonders if you’re mad that he didn’t do something more when Nick was acting like an asshole. Maybe he’s overthinking it–he can’t expect you to give him a free donut every time you see him. It’s possible he’s misread the situation entirely, that you’re just friendly and nothing more. He watches you behind the counter adjusting things, bagging up donuts for customers that have come in. When Benny checks his watch for the time, he misses seeing you slip an apple fritter in a bag and write 'Benny' in a tidy script. 

You watch the guys start filtering out of your place; Nick and Connors are first and from the store window you can see them getting into separate cabs. Benny is still throwing trash away as Henderson and Zapata leave. They share a cab and you imagine that maybe they rallied enough to start drinking again at 7:30am. You see Benny heading towards the door and it looks like he’s leaving without giving his usual wave goodbye. Your stomach sinks a little–maybe he’s mad at you for not joking around more with Nick or the other guys. Or it could just be that he’s tired and wants to go home and you’re creating feelings that aren’t there. 

You grab the bag with the apple fritter from below the counter and hold it up, “Hey, you forgot something.”

Benny looks at the bag with his name on it–it’s the nicest handwriting he’s ever seen. He walks over to the counter and takes the bag from your hand, your fingers overlapping for a fraction of a second. 

“So this means you’re not mad at me?”

“Why would I be mad at you? Wait, you think because of Nick?” You look at him strangely as he nods his head yes, “He’s the idiot, I’m not going to hold that against you.”

Benny smiles, “That’s good to know.” He starts walking away, but stops when he gets to the door, holding up the bag with the donut, “Thanks again. I’ll see you later.”

“Take care, Benny.”

—-

“You like that girl at the donut place?”

It sounds less like Connors is asking you a question and more like stating a fact. Benny’s a little caught off guard and pretends to start looking for something on his desk.

“What?” 

Benny tries to sound confused, like he’s never even heard the word donut before.

“At the donut place. The girl who runs it, are you into her or something? You always act fucking weird when we’re in there.”

Benny thinks back to all the times they’ve been at Glazy for You, trying to remember his behavior. Did he look at you for too long? Say ‘goodbye’ in a way that sounded like he didn’t want to leave. Benny opens the bottom drawer of his desk and pretends to look for something. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

Benny knows he doesn’t sound convincing and Connors must hear it too because he keeps going.

“Really?” Connors sounds incredulous. “You’re always lingering at the counter. She’s always giving you free donuts. Any of this ringing a bell for you?”

Benny can feel Connors staring at him. He closes the desk drawer and goes back to looking at the file on his desk.

“Maybe she likes giving away free donuts. I really couldn’t tell you.”

Connors crumbles a piece of paper into a ball and lobs it at Benny’s head, hitting him just behind the ear. 

“Whatever you say asshole.”

—-

The summer goes by quickly–it’s one of your busier seasons. School is out, the weather is nice–there are day camps, company off-sites, and sleepovers. All the types of occasions where the people in charge don’t want to make breakfast but need to provide it. Benny and the guys come in a few times throughout the summer. It feels a little different from before. Benny doesn’t linger at the counter as much anymore and sometimes one of the other guys pays. It’s stupid little things that you shouldn’t notice, but you do, because they used to be part of your routine. It’s embarrassing thinking you let this crush on Benny become such a big part of your life that you’d notice he didn’t pay last time or the time before that. It’s that embarrassment that makes you start building a wall around that garden in your stomach so the flowers can’t reach your heart.

It’s the end of October when you’re opening up one morning and it registers for you that you haven’t seen Stuart since some time around June or July. His absence gnaws at you. You feel like a bad person for not noticing sooner; that feeling that you failed someone even though they weren’t your responsibility. You don’t know what to do or if there’s anything you actually can do. So when you see Benny a few weeks later it feels like a little bit of a last resort when you ask for his help.

—-

You were hoping that Benny would be the person paying this time when they all came in, so you could mention Stuart without having to pull him aside. But he doesn’t and it makes you a little anxious trying to figure out the best way to talk to him about something serious. So it’s a relief when it looks like he’s going to be the last one to leave. He’s behind Connors and when Connors makes it out the door, you stop Benny who’s close behind.

“Benny, hey. Do you have a second?”

You come out from behind the counter, nervously smoothing the apron tied around your waist in short downward strokes. Benny stops and lets the door go from his hand. You look upset and he hopes it’s not because he’s been acting standoffish lately. Ever since Connors asked about you, he’s been trying his best to act normal–whatever that means–around you. 

“Did Connors’s card get declined again?”

You let out a small laugh, “No. Um, I was actually wondering if you could help me with something.”

Benny steps a little closer to you. You have some powdered sugar on your cheek and he has to stop himself from brushing it off. 

“Yeah, of course. What’s going on?”

“This is probably going to sound weird, or stupid. Maybe both. But there’s this  guy who h—”

Benny cuts you off; his voice is a little rougher, “If someone is bothering you, I’ll take care of it.”

You laugh awkwardly, “Oh no, it’s nothing like that. It’s this guy, Stuart. He usually hangs out around here and I have him come in sometimes for coffee or donuts and I haven’t seen him in…since maybe July, I think? I’m just a little worried.” You pause and try to read Benny’s face to see what he’s thinking, “Sorry, this probably sounds stupid to you. I don’t even know what I’m asking.”

Benny scratches his jaw piecing together what he thinks you’re getting at, “Do you know his last name?”

You notice that Benny’s voice has gone back to the soft tone that you’re used to. He’s looking at you with compassion and not like you’re stupid or some kind of burden. Benny is the kind of person that you would want helping you in a crisis and it makes you wish there were more people like him in his line of work.

“I don’t, but I printed a photo from the security camera I have.” You walk over to the counter and lean over, grabbing the photo from under the register. “I don’t even know if you can do anything with that. I watch a lot of crime shows. Don’t judge me.”

Benny laughs and shakes his head as you hand him the photo.

“I don’t want to get your hopes up, but I’ll see what I can find out.”

“Yeah of course. It’s…I don’t know. I’d feel like a bad person if something were to happen to him and I could have helped.”

Benny feels bad because he knows how these things generally end up. Usually there are no happy endings.

“You can’t put that on yourself.”

You nod your head, “I know, but still, you know?”

Benny understands the feeling and also understands it’s easier to tell someone something isn’t their fault than to know it yourself. 

As Benny leaves you start to feel a bit lighter. Like someone has taken some of your worry, some of your concern and is carrying it for you; so you aren’t so weighed down.

—-

“What was that about?”

Benny is surprised to see Connors waiting for him in the parking lot. 

“Nothing. Well, I guess there’s some guy, homeless, I don’t know. He usually hangs out around here. She hasn’t seen him for a while. She’s worried.”

Connors flicks a cigarette on to the pavement, “Figures she’s one of those bleeding heart types. What did you tell her?”

Benny pats his jacket and then his pants pockets feeling around for a pack of cigarettes, forgetting briefly that he’s trying to quit. Connors pulls his pack from his pocket and tosses them to Benny.

Benny pulls a cigarette out, “I told her I’d look into it.”

Connors laughs and hands Benny a lighter, “Chump.” He waits a beat for Benny to light his cigarette, “But, if you want. We can start looking into it now.”

Benny’s grateful it’s Connors out here and not one of the other guys. Benny and Connors go back further than just Major Crimes and he’s someone Benny would trust with his life.

—-

Benny’s worried that he’s going to have to deliver you bad news. Best case scenario seems like Stuart is in jail. Not great, but it would mean that he’s alive. Worst case scenario is that he can’t find Stuart and that usually doesn’t mean anything good. Benny is suddenly hoping for some kind of miracle for a person he doesn’t even know. 

The photo you gave him does turn out to be useful. Connors is able to find him in the system through facial recognition. Stuart Morton has a record; a few arrests for driving while under the influence and some time in a county jail. Benny is able to get a last known address but it’s over a year old. It’s a sober living house that’s not actually that far from Glazy for You. He doesn’t have much hope that going there will bring him any closer to finding Stuart. 

It takes a couple of weeks, but Benny is finally able to meet with David, the director of the sober living facility. He finds it’s better to meet with people in person. Talking with people over the phone, he’s learned, makes it easier for them to not give you the information you need. David of course is a little guarded at first with Benny; not wanting to share anything that could get Stuart in trouble, which Benny can’t really fault him for. Benny explains the situation, that the owner of a donut shop near here is worried because they haven’t seen him in a while. When Benny mentions your name to David, he lights up.

“Her glazed old fashioneds are the best ones in this entire state.” He pauses and to Benny it looks like he’s getting lost in the memory of a donut, a feeling he knows well. 

“I didn’t realize you two knew each other.” 

David turns away from Benny to look through a drawer in a filing cabinet, “Just this year we got to talking and she’s been generous enough to donate breakfast here every month. And recently she’s been working with us on a job training program at her bakery.” 

Benny thinks back to Connors calling you a ‘bleeding heart’ and is glad he came here by himself. 

“She didn’t mention anything about knowing Stuart lived here.”

David pulls a folder from the cabinet and thumbs through it, “Stuart is the type to not overshare, so that doesn’t surprise me.” He pauses to write something down on a piece of paper and hands it to Benny, “Here. This is his sister Noreen’s information. When he left, he was going to be staying with her for a while. Might still be there.”

Benny barely makes it to his car before calling the number that David gave him. 

—-

“Wait, so you’re saying that Noreen, the Noreen that comes in here, is Stuart’s sister?”

It’s late in the day, near the time that you close up. You and Benny are sitting across from each other at the table near the window. It’s hard to believe what he’s telling you, that Stuart used to be a resident at the sober living facility, the one where David works; that Noreen is Stuart’s sister and somehow all these dots never got connected for you.

“She didn’t realize that you two were,” Benny pauses looking for the right word, “friends. She feels terrible that you didn’t know he had moved out of the state and were worried. She said he’s doing well.”

You’re quiet for a moment, trying to take in everything Benny has been telling  you. It’s a lot to process, considering you had been preparing yourself to hear bad news. You can feel your eyes fuzzy with a few tears and feel a little embarrassed to be getting so emotional over the good news.

“It’s such a relief to know that he’s doing okay.” You feel a tear slide down your cheek and quickly brush it away hoping that Benny didn’t see it.

Benny can tell you’re trying to keep yourself from crying and he wants to tell you that it’s okay, that there wouldn’t be any judgment from him. He has the overwhelming urge to wrap his arms around you, but he knows it would be wildly inappropriate. He feels awkward sitting here, looking around, trying to figure out what he should say.

“I like the Christmas decorations you have up.” It’s lame and he knows it, but it seems better than freaking you out with a hug. You smile at him and that feels reassuring.

“You do?” You look over at Benny, nodding his head, “I know it makes me basic, but I love Christmas. The lights, the decorations, the movies, the music. Expect to see a lot of green and red frosted donuts until December 31st.” 

Benny laughs, “I’m looking forward to it.” He looks at his watch and starts to get up, “I should probably leave, so you can close up.”

You get up and follow Benny to the door, you put your hand on Benny’s forearm to stop him for a second and he feels a little spark through this jacket.

“Thank you, again, for everything.”

“I’m glad I could help. And that everything turned out okay.”

You’re not sure what it is that compels you to hug him, but you do. Maybe it’s the gentleness of his voice, or how he’s looking at you in a way he hasn’t before. It feels intimate and dreamy and it’s hard for you to recall the last time anyone has looked at you like that. It happens so fast that Benny barely has time to register what happened.

It hits him as he’s walking to his car–the delayed feeling of your arms around him. It strikes Benny that maybe there’s a chance you like him, that maybe you’re both kind of stupid and clumsy, and afraid to ask the other one out. There’s the realization that one of you will have to make the first move or it will go on like this forever. That he will see you every few months at your job, that he’ll get a free donut occasionally. It’s not enough for Benny and he knows that he can’t be stupid about this much longer.

—-

It’s the last piss test party of the year–the week before Christmas. The concept is idiotic–sure it made sense at one point when Benny wasn’t wading into the deep end of forty. Going to a cheap hotel to get drunk and high, have sex with women that Nick found God knows where. It was never appealing to Benny but he used to understand the idea of celebrating after your mandatory drug test. Now he usually just sits, drinks a beer or two, and tries to avoid contact with everyone. There’s something especially depressing about it during this time of year.

Benny’s spent the last few days mulling over the best way to ask you out. He regrets not asking you when he was giving you the news about Stuart. Although there’s a part of him that thinks maybe you would have felt obligated to say yes given the circumstances. He thinks about asking you tonight, if they end up there, but he doesn’t want to do it in front of the guys because you might feel obligated then too, maybe even feeling sorry for him and not wanting to embarrass him in front of everyone by saying no. If you say yes, he wants it to be because you actually mean it, he doesn’t want there to be any room for doubt.

His decision is made for him, because when they get to Glazy for You, you aren’t there. Benny can’t remember if there’s ever been a time when you haven’t been there, behind the counter, greeting him warmly. It’s a little bit of a shock to his system to see a middle-aged man in a goofy Christmas sweater in your place. Benny’s good at thinking up doomsday scenarios and imagines one in which you’re trying to avoid him, so you no longer work this early in the morning. But then he thinks of when you hugged him and that even though it was quick, it was like your touch had gone directly to his heart. He doesn’t stay much longer, opting to go home, lay in his bed, and try to figure out what he’s going to do.

—- 

You used to hate working during the holidays. Maybe it’s because you were working for other people and not yourself. Maybe it was because the work you were doing felt unimportant and people expected you to care even when everything else around you was winding down. Five years ago the thought of working on Christmas Eve would have made you want to walk into traffic. Now it feels different, like maybe you’re contributing to the holiday experience versus missing out on it entirely. You’ve always loved Christmas, but Christmas Eve is your favorite day of the year. It just feels more special somehow. There’s anticipation and excitement in the air. It’s possible it’s a product of all the Christmas movies you’ve watched over the years where there’s the idea that anything seems possible on this day. There’s something about the idea of your life changing for the better, surrounded by twinkle lights and ornaments that you find very appealing.

The morning is kind of slow–you spend most of it watching holiday episodes of tv shows on your phone. Around 11am you start cleaning up–taking trays out of cases, boxing up the donuts that are left to drop off at the comic book shop next door. You’re looking forward to going home and laying on the couch the rest of the day, queuing up your standard Christmas Eve movies. You’re ready to watch Scrooged and feel abnormally homesick, but then put on Christmas Vacation and remember why it’s never a good idea to spend Christmas with your entire family.

You’re in the back when you hear the bell on the door jingle, letting you know someone is out front. You consider just staying where you are, pretending no one is here so you can wrap up your day. You don’t want to have to tell anyone that you can’t help them with their donut emergency–getting yelled at on Christmas Eve is not something you’ve prepared yourself for today. So it’s a pleasant surprise when you make your way back out to the front and you see Benny.

“Hey, this is a—hi.” You’re not sure why you’re suddenly unable to put together a decent sentence.

Benny rubs the back of his neck with his hand, “Is this a bad time?”

“No. No, well. I mean, unless you were looking for a few dozen donuts. Then it definitely is.”

Benny smiles, “Actually,  I, um, was,” he pauses and tries to collect himself, he can suddenly feel his heart beating in his ears, “I wanted to ask you out. On a date.” The feeling has spread to his skull.

When he says it, it’s almost like the words traveled through your brain and you can’t comprehend what’s actually happening. Benny, the guy you’ve been harboring your fragile middle school crush on, is here asking you out. It makes little, if any sense to you.

“Are you just trying to get more free donuts?”

Benny shakes his head no, “I promise I’m not.”

You’re quiet as you consider what he’s asked–trying to reprocess the information in your mind so that it makes sense. When all the words are finally in place and you repeat them in your mind, you feel some of those flowers that you’d walled up in your stomach starting to push through the cracks.

“Yeah, okay.” You grab a business card from the counter, write your number on the back, and hand it to Benny.

Benny’s not sure he’s ever heard anything better than yeah, okay in his life, it’s like a bolt of lightning right to his core. He puts the card with your number in the chest pocket of his jacket, the safest place he can think of.

“Great. Amazing.” Benny laughs nervously. “I need to get back to work. I’ll text you.” 

“Okay. Well, have a good Christmas, Benny.” 

“You too.” 

Benny gives his standard small wave as he leaves and you lock the door after him. When he’s out of sight you let out a squeal and excitedly dance in place. Your phone vibrating in your back pocket interrupts you mid-happy dance. 

Hey, it’s Benny. Are you free for dinner on the 27th at 7?

Benny watches dots appear and then disappear on his phone. It feels a little bit like torture as he sits in his truck waiting for you to respond.

 Dinner on the 27th at 7 sounds great

Benny releases a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, Let me think of a place and I’ll text you the address

Sounds good. And you meant Dec 27th right?

Benny laughs to himself, Yes dec 27. I’m not going to wait until jan to take you to dinner

Just making sure 🙂

You read his last text at least ten more times before finally going back into the kitchen like you had intended. Each time you read it, there’s a sensation in your stomach like bricks dissolving and flowers blooming again.

—-

Benny texts you on the morning of the 26th with a restaurant name and an address. You already have the sense that he’s different, the type of person who has follow-through. You try to temper your excitement about dinner with him, not wanting to do that thing you sometimes do where you make something out to be more than it is. You keep telling yourself that it’s just dinner, nothing more. But as you pull up to the restaurant a few minutes late and see Benny standing outside, looking nervous in dark denim and a green flannel, you let yourself think that maybe it could be a little more than just dinner. 

“Sorry I’m a little late, I hope you weren’t waiting long?”

Benny smiles when he sees you standing in front of him, “I just got here a few minutes ago.” 

It’s a lie; the last one he’ll tell tonight; but he doesn’t want you to know that he was so amped up about this evening that he got to the restaurant thirty minutes early. On the way in, when you pass in front of him, your perfume delicately floats by him. It’s earthy, but slightly sweet, with cinnamon and vanilla blending neatly in–he’s sure it’s the most beautiful thing that he’s ever smelled. 

It’s a French restaurant, one that you’ve never been to before, but it’s cozy and still in the Christmas spirit. There are multicolored lights strung up and silver tinsel hanging from the ceiling. 

“Have you been here before?” Looking at Benny from across the table and you can see flecks of silver in his facial hair catching the light of the candle on the table. 

“My sister and her husband had their tenth anniversary party here last year. Most of my restaurant choices come from wherever she has an anniversary party.” 

You laugh, “Nice. Do you just have the one sister?”

Benny has just the one sister, you learn, among other things. You find talking to Benny is easy, he doesn’t give one word answers to questions like some men you’ve gone out with. Where trying to get to know them is like trying to get to know a slab of pavement. He’s funnier than you thought, something that you didn’t expect, but is a nice surprise.

“Did you always want to be a detective?”

Benny butters a piece of bread, “To be honest, the only thing I wanted to be growing up was a magician. I guess I saw one too many David Copperfield specials as a kid.”

You start laughing, “Do you know any magic tricks?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know. What about you?”

“I don’t know any, no.” You shrug jokingly as Benny laughs. “But, yeah, I guess I’m doing what I’ve always wanted to be doing. I’m lucky that things have worked out how they have.” 

Benny’s curious now, “You didn’t always work in a bakery?”

“Nope. I actually used to work in tech. It’s kind of a long story.”

“Well, I’m not in any hurry to end the evening.”

There’s something about Benny that puts you at ease, that makes you comfortable enough to want to open up to him. Something that you would never normally consider doing on a first date. You don’t feel the need to downplay that you made a lot of money when a company you worked for in New York was bought out. He doesn’t flinch when you tell him that the reason you moved to California was because of your now ex-husband. He tells you about his own divorce and for the first time in a long time you don’t feel so unlike yourself on a first date. It doesn’t feel scary telling him that you felt insignificant in your own life because of your work and your marriage. That every conversation with your husband made you feel like a burden.There’s a moment when you start to apologize, out of habit, but he stops you. He smiles when you say that the divorce was the best thing to happen to you because it–and you hate to say it like this–gave you your power back. 

“I always wanted to own my own business and I love donuts, so when the divorce happened, I just said fuck it, and went for it. Just threw myself into it.”

“I’m glad you did, I don’t know where else I’d get an apple fritter that good. And for free.” 

“Yeah, about that.” You smile playfully, “I’m going to have to start charging you before you put me out of business.” 

Benny makes a show of looking at his watch, pretending to want to leave, “I guess we should probably call it an evening then?”

He likes the way you laugh, how it’s kind of loud and fills the room. It makes him feel good, to hear you laugh, to see you smile; like he’s responsible for some bit of happiness you’re experiencing.

“See, I knew this was a scam.”

As the waiter clears the table and they wait for the check, Benny asks you what your favorite donut is. 

You don’t even have to think about it, “Definitely a maple bar.”

Benny watches as your eyes light up, telling him how you first had one when you spent the summer between fifth and sixth grade visiting your aunt in Seattle. He listens to you describe how your mom was, in the nicest terms you can find, an extreme dieter, who tried her best to pass all of her food issues down to you, and never let donuts in the house. But your aunt didn’t care and the first thing she did once she would pick you up from the airport was take you to her favorite bakery. It was the highlight of every summer after that until you graduated high school. It was the first donut you learned how to make because on the east coast they’re hard to find. You laugh when you say the best part of moving to the west coast is that every donut place has maple bars, but you’d like to think that yours are the best. Benny can’t help but think it’s cute.

Benny doesn’t want the night to end; he knows that you took a cab to the restaurant so he offers to drive you home. You try not to sound too eager in accepting his offer, but fail.

“Yeah, I’d love that.”

You ask him if he wants you to put your address into google maps for directions, but he doesn’t need them. Benny spends so much time driving all over the city that he knows every street, every highway, every interstate. The map exists in his head; he can get anywhere without really having to think about it. Benny drives you through some unfamiliar, but beautiful neighborhoods. The homes are still decorated and lit up, it’s like driving through the set of a Christmas movie–the only thing missing is snow.

You ask him more about his job, the guys he works with. You like hearing the stories that Benny has about them. You can tell by the way he talks about him, that he’s closest with Connors. You finally learn everyone’s first names and how Benny got his nickname–which you had previously googled out of curiosity. You ask if it bothers him to be called a drunk.

“Knowing the shit they all get into, not really.”

He says that it doesn’t matter what they call him because he knows that in any situation they’ll have his back and he’ll have theirs. That’s what he cares about.

When he pulls up to your house; a small, one-story home, string lights along the frame and around the windows; it looks exactly like he’d imagined. You both sit quietly for a few minutes unsure what to do next. 

Eventually you unbuckle your seatbelt, “I had a really good time tonight, Benny.”

“Me too. Come on, I’ll walk you to your door.” he looks over at you, “protect and serve, you know.” Benny knows it’s a dumb joke, but you laugh anyway.

When you get to the top of your steps, you find it hard to say goodbye. His face is illuminated by the Christmas lights and you can tell he doesn’t want to say goodbye either. You start to say something, you’re not even sure what, but no words come out because Benny’s mouth is on yours, his hands gently cradling your face. His lips are soft and you can feel the warmth of his tongue asking for permission. You drop your keys onto the porch and pull him closer to you by his belt loops.

It feels like hours have passed when Benny finally pulls away, “Sorry. I’ve been wanting to do that for months.”

You rest your hands on his chest, “Next time,” you gently tug on his shirt collar, “don’t wait so long.”

Benny smiles as he watches you crouch down to pick up the keys you dropped. When you stand back up, he reaches towards your face, his fingers grazing behind your ear, “Hold on, you have something in your—” Benny sweeps his fingers against your hair and when he brings his hand in front of you, he’s holding a small, folded piece of paper. 

You take it from him, unfolding it. When you see the words ‘what are you doing for new years?’ written down you start grinning, “So you do still know some magic tricks.”

Benny places his hand on your neck, his thumb stroking your cheek, “A few.”

[fifteenth-entity]

Arc Purgatory: The one (and only) major flaw of the Pirates of the Caribbean movies

-oh, hiii, just a note, this post is super uncleaned and kinda messy, you can see points where my ADHD patience wore off. sorry bout that, ill come up and clean later, for now, i gotta recharge-

I think I speak for most PotC enthusiasts when I say that the PotC trilogy (franchise? Wym theres more than three movies?) is one of the best written trilogies I’ve ever seen. Amazing choreography (they just don’t make swashbucklers like this anymore!!), amazing set and design, amazing writing, the comedy is peak, the world building is great shit, but by far, the best and most hooking part of the series is its characters!! You have the elusive trickster captain Jack Sparrow, you have the naive but headstrong and well-meaning Will Turner, the cunning and crafty Elizabeth Swann, and an array of amazing villains to boot! Barbossa and his excellent character arc, Davy Jones and his excellent character arc, the excellent dynamic between Commodore Norrington and Cutler Beckett and who being a villain when and why, the whole shtick. With how well the villains are written, it’s no surprise that a lot of them hold a spot in many fans’ top favorite characters - I’m no exception, Barbossa has always been a favorite of mine and upon a rewatch later on in life, Davy Jones is up there too. And while all of the characters are iconic, memorable and loveable (most times), Ive noticed a sort of… pattern in who places at the top of people’s favorite characters. Namely, I’ve seen the villains and Jack Sparrow. I’ve never seen Will or Elizabeth be explicitly placed high up, or higher than the villains/Jack  Sparrow. And even when I see Jack Sparrow be high up, I always see him be high up because he’s “iconic”, while I’ve seen the villains be high up because they’re “compelling”. That discrepancy really meant nothing to me when I rewatched the first two movies; they were, after all, an incomplete story. The third movie would bring it all together and cement these characters as excellent. Right? … Well… wrong. Now, before I go on, what I said before still stands. The trilogy is still impeccable in all the ways I’ve listed above. Great characters, plot, world building, choreography, score, cinematography… but there is only one area it falls short on: character development. But the peculiar thing is that it falls short only sometimes. So I wanna examine where it doesn’t fall short, where it does, and why I think so.

As previously stated, the character development falls short only sometimes. Where it absolutely doesn’t fall short is with the villains. For at least the first three movies (cuz i have not and refuse to rewatch 4 and 5), the villains have excellent, fully rounded character arcs, with memorable story beats. Barbossa going from bloodthristy merciless captain of the black pearl to hesitant co-captain of the black pearl, leaving behind his lonesome ways and instead choosing to make alliances if not for his own benefit. Davy Jones going from a terrifying force of power to blah blah blah, we've watched the movies, we remember what happens, we all get the gist. The villains have complete character arcs, they develop from one thing to another, either by way of actually becoming a decently better person and improving in some of their qualities, or by digging in their heels and dying as a consequence (or in Norrington’s case, becoming a better person but dying anyway because his narrative foil is cutler beckett and hell hath no fury like an 18th century british twink in a position of power). Even the side characters which are related to them have fully fleshed out character arcs of their own to complement them, namely Tia Dalma, who develops from a mysterious bogwitch to a lovestruck goddess. From this section, I want you readers to remember that the people who insofar have complete character arcs are the villains, who mostly switch up every movie. Now let’s talk about the lame ducks, shall we?

A few characters dont get any character development; namely, the side characters whose name you don’t really remember, or cannon fodder (i am counting Sao Feng as cannon fodder, I take no further questions at this time). However, there’s three other characters in the series that don’t get compelling character development and that’s the three protagonists. I’m gonna start with Will and Elizabeth; both of them do develop in a sense! They become more mature and more tolerant of piracy as they learn about the fallacies of the state. They are forced to mature rapidly thanks to their turbulent circumstances, namely as only-dubiously-pirates and only-dubiously-free and legally pronounced enemies of state unless cutler beckett decides otherwise. Thats a lot of Circumstance. No matter who you are as a person, that forces you to grow in one way or another. But let’s not forget that becoming pirate king and abandoning high society/abandoning citizenship and becoming an undead pirate are only half of Elizabeth and Will’s character arcs. Why do they get into this entire mess in the first place? Well, love! They love each other so much that they’d literally uproot their safety to be together, and the only thing keeping them apart is Circumstances™ . Naturally, this then means that their character arc would involve them triumphantly overcoming the circumstances and finally being together, either by abandoning pirate life or pilfering together as captains! Or alternatively, they discover it was never meant to be either by way of death or by departing tearfully. Yeah, neither happens. Instead they leave off movie 3 right back at square one; pining and yearning from a distance. But instead of the distance being lord vs peasant dynamics, it’s a time gap of 10 years. How is this any different from what the problem was 2 movies ago? This is their wrap up? Same circumstance with a different name and an outfit change? At best, this is incomplete. I can’t even count it as full circle if I wanted to; normally, here would be the beginning of a spin off or something, because this development is something penultimate. A darkest hour at best. Not a climax, and definitely not a conclusion; again, it is incomplete. And, sadly, the same can be said about Jack Sparrow. The movie goes out of its way to point out where Jack is flawed: he fears death so much that he refuses to see the pain and drawbacks of immortality, which leads him to do all his tomfoolery. Which is great character motivation! But it never changes. He is constantly afraid of his own mortality, so he will constantly hold himself back from going guns blasing, and it will always lead to him chasing the promise of immortality. Even when he sees what that does to Barbossa and Davy Jones, he digs his heels in and goes “la la la”. even when the plot of one of the movies was that he died. He died and came back to life. At this point, he has gone face to face with his greatest fear and come back a victor. But by the end of the movie, whatever happens, happens because he is still mortally afraid of death. Even after he comes back to life, people point out that all he wants is to be immortal, and he affirms that. So like… did the death… not happen? Because even if this is happening because Jack refuses to process it, then that gives us new motivation. And that’s not the only way for Jack to continue his adventures; one alternative could be that Jack, after conquering death, instead turns to life to see how he can maximize his limited fun, and starts pilfering and pirating to the nth degree, purely because of zero inhibitions. But instead like with Will and Elizabeth, with him, we are right back to square one.

So… why is this happening? Why are we having these fake character arcs for the protagonists? In most media and most cases, the answer is “because the writers suck” in one variety or another. Time constraints, budget constraints, bad writers, the works. But I firmly believe this is happening not because of the writers, but because of one mouse that keeps ruining everyone's fun.

(if i could add sound bytes, i would, but please imagine the intro song jingle thing of disney playing here)

Obviously we all know Disney; they want to milk their cash cows until the bitter end, which means that in order for that to happen, they need to keep an avenue open for Will and Elizabeth’s story in case they need to milk that for an extra buck, and obviously, Jack needs more motivation to keep doing his silliness. Now, as stated above, there are multiple ways for that to happen without keeping the same motivations that kept us going for 3 movies, but it has been proven time and time again that Disney will take the easy way out instead of the interesting (and potentially more costly) way out. Now, I refuse to watch star wars, so I cannot validate this point by myself, but according to a friend (thank you for your service @greetings-humans), when “somehow palpatine returned”, the franchise was owned by disney. Star wars fans, and even people with a brain, recognize how much of a cop out this is, and having seen the above cop outs happen in PotC, i am now firmly of the belief that the protags of PotC dont have character arcs because Disney believes this is the cheapest way of keeping the franchise going. This, btw, delightfully, ended up making disney shoot themselves in the foot; not only were movies 4 and 5 poorly received, but because of the way they were written, it wouldn’t make sense for any of the protagonists to suddenly have a change of motives and resume character development, which would be especially detrimental since we are talking about the PotC franchise; famously adored for its writing. They could mask the cash cow before, but now they cannot. So it’s no surprise that instead of continuing a story that is continuously shooting itself in the foot thanks to Disney’s executive decision to take the easy way out of creating a continuous cash cow, the 6th movie is rumored to be a remake of the first one.

But yeah, this is pretty much my analysis. I dont have much more to say. The key take away here is: write your own fanfics of the ending, or engage with the series however you like. I think if the series had different producers and was just left at a trilogy, then it would’ve been perfect. I don’t really have much more to say here;; this is pretty much it. I’m just glad that PotC’s one major flaw wasn’t due to incompetence and was due to the mouse being the mouse.

[voidselfshipp]

Love comes in all shapes and sizes

Cw: ask to tag. Long post Ig? Ill add a read more soon (im in Mobile and the Read more doesnt work!). Sorry for the inconvenience

-> only mutuals allowed to reblog.

-> WARNING: this story contains a lot of oc things, including magic, so it deviates from the cannon a lot, still,hope you like it!

Summary: Donald is in love with his Co-Worker jerico, unbeknownst to him, jerico also feels things for him, and with the help of Reddington, he tries to court her, and Will soon discover things about her that May not make sense at first glance.

Lovely Taglist: @tex-treasures

A/n: LOOK!!! AT THAT!! SMIIIILE!!!!! **fangirl scream**

--Okay,what is it-- reddington asked leaning in besides jerico.

--No clue what youre talkin' about-- she replied playing with her lockett.

--c'mon, youre giving Mr. Straight white male over there the lovey dovey eyes

--Dont judge me-- jeri said, though it sounded slightly strained.

--not planning on it

--I think hes cute

--Knew it-- the Man said unimpressed.

--Emotionally unavailable men, they are my thing-- the woman replied hiding her face between her hands and screaming.

--Okay, let me help you out-- reddington said patting her back.

--no need to-

--he likes his coffee black, hes always working himself to the bone, you can worm your way into his heart by taking care of him, bring him a coffee tonight

--Red!--jerico exclaimed exhasperatedly-- you know what im not even going to ask-- she stood up from the park bench they were sitting, and Walked away.

--Kiddo?-- The Man called out--

She Turned around-- Yeah?

Then he said something in a language that sounded like nothing but mismatched noises to others, but jerico chuckled, rolled her eyes and Walked away.

--What were you two giggling about?--Elizabeth asked.

--Nothing that matters to the investigation-- she replied-- I think we are done here

--Good, lets go then

Some hours later, when the sun had set and night reached its late hours, jerico quietly Walked with a mug of black coffee to Ressler's Office.

--Come in-- the FBI agent said monotonely.

--Hey Ressler-- jeri said gently, in a quick moment, the Man looks up from his papers-- brought you coffee

--Thank you-- Donald thanked -- its late, you shouldnt be here

--Look whose talkin'-- she bit Back, setting the mug on the desk.

--How did you--

--I saw you make your coffee countless of time-- she lied, she was too distracted looking at him to care or notice his coffee.

But in Ressler's mind it made sense, so he drank from his coffee without much thought-- go rest --He ordered.

--You should go rest too-- jerico commented, crossing her arms.

--got paperwork to do-- and as if he needed to accentuate his point he lifted one of the paper sheets up.

--Thought you didnt like archiving stuff-- she teased raising a brow.

--Not for me, I wouldnt be doing this but orders are orders

She sighed loudly,looking away-- Just get at least six hours of sleep-- her hand patted his back and she offered him a big smile-- good night, Donald

And she Walked away.

Donald swallows hard, and looks away from the door, taking a sip from his coffee, cursing under his breath.

Next Day arrived in matter of hours, reddingon was casually talking with Ressler (one time the later was at the first one's throat)

--Shes not your type-- Raymond commented.

--Dont know what youre talking about-- the FBI agent replied,playing dumb

--Shes not your type-- he repeated-- fun, loves to read and excersice her mind, loves to dance, have a social life

--Im not into jerico

--Yet with few adjectives you recognized her-- Reddington bit back-- if you still want to pursue her,start small, she likes her tea with two sugar and a lemon peel, her favorite types of baked goods are croissants and she has a habit of stressing over details

--What are your Intentions?-- Donald asked turning to face the Man, slightly annoyed.

--Well im part of the people who are tired of your obvious stares at her, do something before intell her myself

--As if she would trust you

--She can tell when people are lying remember?-- Raymond pushed with his tone being more threatening than playfull-- shes not from here

--Where is she from, then?-- The other Man asked.

--She is not from here-- Reddington replied matter-if-factly.

Ressler sighs in exhasperation and walks closer to the evidence board.

That night, jerico was typing away when she hears a gentle knock on the door-- pase!-- (come in)she said cheerfully.

--uh, good evening-- Donald said entering the room with some tea and a paper bag of croissants-- you seem busy

--I am, but what do you-- she looks up from her computer-- oh Ressler you didnt need to-

--You brought me coffee last night, im returning the favor

Jerico giggled, and his heart skipped a beat. She was beautiful...

--Thank you-- she replied giving him a warm smile that made him forget his own name.

--N-no problem-- he stuttered Back-- uh-uhm have a good night, do-dont...dont stay up late, get back home at a reasonable hour..

--You too!--She said back, though Donald had sped out of the room while trying to not so subtly cover his face.

The Next day, jerico is walking with reddington through a park, supposedly to talk about their Next target, but really they are catching up.

--Did he like the coffee?--He asked.

--Yeah, yeah he did-- she replied looking at the birds resting on the tree branches.

--You seem distracted today--Raymond pointed out.

--Im homesick thats all-- jerico admitted.

--Well, i know your people are known to not like being away from family for a long time-- raymond said, patting her back.

--Yeah, i miss my mom's sun buns a lot, actually, I think I also miss how calm Terr-- she makes a pause-- my home is, never ending fields, beaches in every extreme of the continent, I mean you've been there

--Yes, your home is quite beautiful-- Raymond agreed-- how are your parents?

--Ozóz (mom) is alright, a lot of work in her hands, and she has four of 'em-- both shared a laugh) Kazkáz (dad) is okay actually, hes betting over what Soccer team is going to win Next match

--And who do you think Will win?-- Reddington asked.

--The sun lions for sure, they've been training for weeks,Aajab is going to be so dissapointed, Him and dad always make bets over it

--And agent Ressler?

Jeri made a pause, her cheeks warming up-- Well...,Hes alright, looks very stressed, and I really dont know how to talk with him

Reddington started thinking, looking at the woman besides him-- Well, im sure you'll figure it out..

She only pressed her head against his shoulder, and sighed loudly-- I dont have the best of luck with...getting partners y'know? Its been very hard lately

--Im sure its been hard-- Raymond agreed putting his arm around her shoulder-- whatever your brain has been saying, its not true

--Thanks Ray...

--Of course, kiddo

Between all the work on the New case, countless hours of probably not payed overtime, and a lot, a lot, of paperwork,Reddington and Jerico didnt have time to talk to eachother.

Now, she sat on her Office, face against her desk, her body felt sore from running around like a headless chicken, her head felt like she was going to explode.

--You dont look good-- Ressler said, entering her Office with a stack of paperwork.

--yeah no shit Sherlock-- jeri looks up-- oh no, no more paperwork

The Man chuckled, Setting the paperwork on a spare chair-- you should clock out, I already did, maybe...-- he cleared his throat trying to ignore the creeping warmth on his cheeks-- maybe you should come with

--I dont wanna bother--

--its not a bother if its you, c'mon-- Donald didnt think much about what he said, but he didnt complain when jerico followed him out of their workspace.

--Need a ride? Heard your car broke down-- the Man said opening the passenger's Seat.

--Look at you, being a gentleman-- jeri teased, entering the car.

--I try my best..-- he closed the door and quickly Walked towards the driver's Seat-- I know a café we can stop by, then I can drop you off at your house?

--Yeah, I could use something warm to drink-- she admitted, looking out the Window.

Now, Donald didnt want to get distracted while Driving,so he tried his best to look at the road.

--Mind if I turn on the radio?--She asked.

--Not at all..

Soon soft music invaded the car, and as he stopped for a red light, his eyes dart towards his companion.

Jerico looked peacefull, he could see the dark bags under her eyes, when did she let her hair down? It made her face look softer, she lets out a yawn, and makes herself comfortable in the Seat.

Then, the song changed.

"Heaven, I'm in heaven

And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak

And I seem to find the happiness I seek

When we're out together dancing cheek to cheek"

Her eyes lit up as she recognized the song, and she smiled, she looked so beautiful when she smiled.

Donald had to swallow hard and force himself to look at the road.

But then, she started singing.

--Yes, heaven, I'm in heaven

And the cares that hung around me through the week

Seem to vanish like a gambler's lucky streak

When we're out together dancing cheek to cheek-- Her voice, so nice to the ear, right on the timing of the song and all.

And then, he found himself drumming his hands against the steering wheel to the rythm of the song.

--Actually, why dont you stay at my place?-- Jeri asks-- its late, its getting cold, and its safer

--Are-- are you sure? I do-dont want to bother..

--Its never a bother if its you...--She replied, and he had to grip the wheel to try and calm himself down, his heart was beating hard against his chest.

--Alright, thank you..

--Of course!

Once they arrived at her home, he parked on the empty parking spot inside of her yard and Walked inside.

Her livingroom was cozy, he could see a set of stairs that Led to the second floor, the kitchen was some feet away from him,instead of a door there was an arch way, and one of the Windows in the kitchen showed the back yard.

--Make yourself comfortable-- jerico commented-- coffee or tea?

--Coffee, black, do you uh...have anything to eat?--He asked taking off his coat and hanging it on the coathanger.

--Yep, anything in particular?

--Not really, just hungry-- He admitted.

--Okay, be right back then-- she took off her own dark green coat and threw it on the sofa's Back rest, walking towards the kitchen

Now alone, Donald looked around, the walls were a warm shade of beige, there were hanging plants, paintings of nature, and photos.

What caught his attention was a photo on the coffee table, he sat on the brown sofá and grabbed the picture frame.

There he could see a black woman with a big afro, round glasses and a white dress with flowers, holding up a teenager, short brown hair, eyes closed while smiling, she was wearing a yellow shirt, a light blue shorts and sandals.

Besides them was a Man, Tawny colored skin, Brown eyes and black hair thrown back into a ponytail, the sides of his head shaved, he had freckles and was wearing a white t-shirt and black shorts.

He Turned the picture frame around and saw an inscription "Mamá y Papá".

" is she adopted?" He asked himself, settling the picture on the table.

Soon jeri came by with two cups.

--thank you-- he said as he grabbed the cup with coffee.

--Of course-- she sat down besides him.

He looked at the picture frame and then back at her-- Those are your parents?

--Yep, they are-- jerico said with nostalgia on her voice, grabbing the picture-- shes Eryz-- she pointed at the woman-- thats my mom, and hes Ray, My dad -- she looked at him and snorted-- we look nothing alike, I know

--Well, you do look happy-- Donald complimented.

--Yeah, that was my fifteenth birthday, it was very fun, my Friends and I had so much fun..., Man I miss my parents

--Where are they now?-- He asked drinking from his coffee.

--Back home, but I havent had the chance to spend time with them -- Jeri replied

--Hopefully youll get some soon

--Yeah, hopefully

And then silence fell between both of them, he looks at the picture on her hands.

"Shes not from here" Reddington had said.

"What does he meant by that?" He asks himself. He knew jeri was slightly odd, she barely got hurt during altercations, she always knew when someone was lying, and always seemed to know everybodies intentions.

One time he swore he could see flower buds blooming on her head when she felt strong emotions.

He had to ask, she looked human, but he also didnt want to loose her. He just couldnt, he was in love with her.

Since the first time he saw her, their first mission togheter.

Hes been pinning for her for years, And reddington was right, she didnt look like his type.

But she was so fun to be around, shes sunshine incarnate, she was always walking around helping people, comforting them, she was a great woman.

But he didnt know if he was worthy of her, how could he? He was her opposite.

She pulled him like a magnet, and he couldnt get enough.

--Don? Everything okay? --Jerico asked snapping him out of his trance.

--uh- uhm yeah, i zoned out-- Donald replied looking away.

--Hmm-- she mused, not really convinced.

Theres an awkward silence,neither of them look at eachother.

--Remember when we were undercover at a party, and you were wearing that beautiful golden dress?-- He asked, not caring if he was being obvious-- we had to dance...

--Yeah, I remember-- Jeri replied, trying to fight back the smile that was tugging at her lips, she had danced with her face on his chest, shes never felt more safe-- you were wearing that suit that looked great on you

Donald chuckled, his face turning pink-- that night was fun, we even catched the bad guy

--heh, we did, that was a good night

There was a short silence, Donald looked at the gramophone that was sitting besides the bed-- that thing works?

--The gramophone? Yeah, its a family heriloom, why?

--I never finished learning how to slowdance, and we have nothing better to do

--Dont you have to go to work tomorrow?-- She asked.

--Well, its pouring outside-- he pointed out the Window. How didnt she notice it was raining-- cant go to my car with this rain, can I?

She chuckled and nodded-- I only have old jazz songs

--itll do

Soon she grabbed the vynil on the gramophone, and music started playing.

--Will you Grant me this dance?-- Donald asked with a smirk, offering his hand.

--Of course-- She took his hand and both started to slow dance.

They moved slowly back and forth through the room, both never taking their eyes off of eachother.

Donald spun jerico around and the smile she gave him was enough to make him decide that tonight was the night he was going to tell her.

He Gently pulled her closer, their slow dance now only consisted in barely moving, her face was against his chest, and jeri felt like she could spend the rest of her life like that, the smell of his cologne soothing her.

Ressler lifted jericos face up by the chin,-- Theres something I've wanted to tell you... for a while now...--He took a deep breath-- I.. I have feelings for you..-- he braced for the worst, but it never came.

He felt her caress his cheek, and saw her warm smile-- I have feelings for you too...

Donald chuckled happily, pressing his forehead against hers-- Permission to kiss you?

--Permission granted, Agent -- she answered playfully.

He kissed her, and his body felt lighter, he pulled her closer by the waist,and her hands gripped his dress shirt, to then slowly wrap her arms around his waist.

As they parted lips, their eyes Open to look at eachother-- Stay the night?

--Of course..

She rested her head on his chest and both stayed in silence, the rain hitting against the Windows making the house feel cozy.

They dont know at what time they went to sleep, and they didnt care.

Donald hugged jerico from behind, laying in bed, protectively wrapping his arms around her.

His face buried in her hair, it smelled like green Apple shampoo.

Donald had finally told jeri how he felt, he was incredibly happy that she felt the same, and he vowed to Keep her safe.

The Next day, as they worked on the evidence board, Raymond came behind them and say-- congratulations

Both jumped back and looked at him-- What?!

His eyes looked down at how both were holding hands, And gave them a smug smile.

Donald told him to fuck off and he left them alone

Jeri pressed her face on his bicep and started laughing under her breath.

--Its not funny-- Ressler said with his cheeks flushing red.

--I think it is-- Jeri replied kissing his bicep.

--'s not...

At some point during the day, jericó went outside to take a breather, shes looking at the Sky, appreciating that there werent Many clouds, when a voice snapped her out of her trance.

--You should thank your cousin for the rain last night -- Reddington said, standing besides her.

--Xyxy always knows what shes doing

--She is the writer of destiny isnt she? And the goddess of the Sky and weather

--Yeah she is, a powerfull combo if you think about it

The Man besides her chuckles and leans on the handrail she was leaning on-- Will you tell him? Who you are, what you are?

--hes going to find out sooner or later -- Jeri said.

--You dont sound too enthusuastic about it

--Its just...-- what if he starts treating me differently? I dont want him to idolize me!

--Hes not going to, he knows you, and your past wont change that-- Raymond assured her patting her back.

--I hope youre right, if not I think ill cry for weeks

--I am right, and you wont need to cry for weeks, he loves you either way-- he hugged her tightly, and she could only hug back, body relaxing--Funny I share your dads name..

--Maybe he sent you to take care of me

--Maybe, if not its going to be a big coincidence

--Coincidences arent a thing where im from

--Hmm, I guess youre right...they arent , but I think ill know if I ever spoke to the literal god of war

--Ex god of war, thank you, and ex god of Providence-- She corrected.

--Well I think I'd know if I ever spoke to the ex god of war and Providence

She snorts-- ill head back inside

He nodded and let her go.

Some months passed by, and things only went uphill for Jerico and Donald.

But something kept tugging at her, he deserved to know.

So, she took him to a museum, the only museum that had Real relics of her home.

--This is called a wall of legacy-- jerico said-- it tells the story of the family tree of ancient gods

--The plaque reads Terran Gods, Terran? Never heard of them before

-- Some things are best kept hidden-- Jeri added, a bit too sure--At any rate, this is the main family of gods, the Von Terra, hence "Terran gods", that is Elementus Von Terra, creator of the world, that is Karuma Von Terra, god of war and providence -- she pointed at a Man, that had freckles that formed a constelation, and Ressler noticed he looked like his father in law.

--You share a last name with a family of old gods? -- he teased.

--Apparently yeah-- she said mildly nervously-- Thats Elementus' daughter, Valkiria Von Terra, Warrior goddess, Fire elemental, and that one-- she pointed at the drawing of a woman, short hair with dragon hirns growing from her forehead, heart shaped face and the fading paint in her eyes made it look like they were green-- and that is Draco Von Terra, goddes of hunting, earth elemental and its said she could controll a rare type if magic, a mix of all kinds of magic, Some even say its the very life force of this world. Anima magic, Anima means soul, so soul magic

--You sound so sure about it-- Donald pointed out-- whose draco's mother?

--Eryz, Goddess of life and mothers-- She almost sounded...sheepish?

--your mother shares Names with a goddess? --He made a pause-- why do you sound so sure about this?

He didnt notice how people around them left, or how the cameras in the museum looked away from them.

She looked away unsure of what to say.

--look, im going to be blunt. once, Reddington told me you "werent from here" and didnt want to specify where you are from exactly-- he said-- and then I started to remember weird things that ive seen you do, you always leave almost unscathed of any altercations, you always know when someone is lying, and I swear, and dont think im crazy, I swear Ive seen Rose buds Bloom on your hair when I make you blush

--I dont think youre crazy-- Jeri assured-- you are right, of all your suspicions about me, and Reddington is right, im not from here.., Von Terra means "of earth", or "of terra", as weird as it sounds, thats my family on the wall of legacy, and draco is what im supposed to look like

Donald stares at her, making sure she isnt lying, she would lie about something like this. Right?.

--Prove it -- he simply says.

She snorts, and extends her hands, a Rose Blooms from it, and puts it behind his ear--Gev zom or homon Keimon Komi lom wevlom zalhem

--What does that mean?-- He asked.

--i love you, my Sun, im sorry I didnt tell you sooner

He looks at her hands and then at her,-- after everything ive seen on the job, this is a nice change of pace-- he smiled-- im dating a goddess,then?

--Half, I was reborn as a human because I wanted to live like one, that picture you saw the night you confessed was this life's sweet fifteen, I was re born in an Argentine family, hence why I look so different from my parents, though I have to say I looked exactly the same in my past life, gods can shape shift, so our human looks arent exactly the same every day

--And you cant shape shift?-- he never thought he would be asking that. But then again, hes working with a famous criminal, so he has done weirder things.

Jerico shook her head-- Since I was born human, I cant use shapeshifting magic, but I dont want to, im happy with the way I look

--And your...original form?

--I can still transform into what im supposed to look like-- she pointed at the relic besides them-- but it takes a lot of work

He nodded and looked at the floor, still trying to wrap his head around this New Information-- regardless of who or what you are, I still love you, and you should know that-- He looked at her and hugged her-- it only makes you much more special, and it only makes me even more lucky to be with you

Jeri chuckles and hugs back tightly-- thank you..

--Ill always love you-- he said loud enough for only her to hear-- thank you for trusting me with this, now, should I give you an offering in the shape of inviting you lunch, my goddess?

--Shut up Donald!-- jeri pushed him playfully while hiding her face in her hands, roses blooming from her hair.

He laughed loudly, hugging her again, one hand Gently plucking the roses out of her hair-- you dont feel this?

--I dont-- she assured Him.

He tries his best to make a flower crown and Gently places it on her head-- jokes aside, let me treat you to lunch yeah?

She nodded-- Thank you, baby

--Of course-- Donald took her hand-- c'mon love

They walk out of the museum towards a nice place to eat lunch, And though Donald was a long way from understanding who or what his lover was, he Will make sure to understand as much as he could, he loved her regardless.

Ressler kissed jerico Gently while they waited for the cars to let them cross the street, just so she knew he meant what he said.

For Him, she still was the love of his life, his little Ray of sunshine, nothing would change that.

[okamixxiii]

Elijah 01

Being on tumblr makes me wanna feel more homely and less professional and then I suddenly remember I can just like,, lore dump anytime I want and post out of a time schedule just like back in 2014. Anyways someone on Deviant Art asked about Elijah! So ill be chatting about him in this moment. Cant say today because LMAO Ill probably be back on here later talking about another oc.

I dont really talk about him as much as I should and I have very few content of him in it. Truth is I purposely dont really expand on him as much as to try and bend/taint his character that I fleshed out for him to be. Its something that happens quite often when I try to dive too deep and I find that by a fault a lot of my characters end up feeling the same-- to me at least. So its a preventative measure.  Here IS what i have about him though: Elijah Alan Spence, Agent Spence, Code name Black Rabbit, or for some: Eli!  He’s an elite agent that has worked his way up through T.K.E.A ranks (ill make a t.k.e.a thing later just check lore tag or somn before I actually decide to learn how to structure my text posts). Although he’s an elite agent dont think that his views align with what T.K.E.A is doing. Hes mostly a ‘good’ guy wrapped up in bad things type deal since I love doing that for some reason.  The initial belief was that he could work his way up and change it that way but its clear that because of him being brought into the agency as only an agent that there was a dead end when it comes to working yourself up to more ceo levels. The highest you can go would be what he is; an elite.  When he realized that was also when he realized that T.K.E.A basically silences any defective agents so there was no way to change things without getting himself murdered. So he was put in a space where he had to continue his job while figuring out how to fix things undercover.  Unfortunately until Chris (when T.K.E.A really started fucking up) there wasnt anything that was really pushing him to just make the jump without thinking.    Now I know that sounds weak ended on his part but let me explain something:  Elijah was very very inspired by tah-dah! 

BBC Sherlock! *1# on all time favorite and comfort shows to watch and HAS seen it 10 times in total. No, Im not joking.*

So if you picked up on this, congratulations! Here's a cookie. Now that means in this he has a very similar qualities as Sherlock Holmes that he cannot operate without thinking things through. Not until a time really calls for it. I am NOT saying that Christian Edens is his John, gods no. In fact his “john” actually was his partner (in the work sense) died at a job.  Its just more or so the situation with Chris was a final straw, one that really made Elijah say ‘enough is enough!’. He may seem brief and brutally honest on the outside that often makes him come across as an asshole but on the inside he truly does have a heart for those in need and a drive to stride for something better for everyone. Its just he will be doing it in his own way and gods forbid if anyone tried to change his direction he laid out for himself. Hes very stubborn. 

Elijah took the cards he was dealt with and made the absolute most of them of what he could. It just, wasnt enough at the time.

Hes highly intelligent, though bit rough around the edges when it comes to socialization. Like Sherlock again as his inspiration, he can make quick deductions but has a hard time keeping his mouth shut when he makes those deductions. Not everyone enjoys his honesty and way of ‘no bullshitting’.  Just because he has a heart doesnt mean he isnt a bit egotistical at times either. Its just not all the time. its like “hey look at how smart I am!”.  Other things to note is wow! Hes a rabbit shifter! His pronouns are he/him strictly and hes *sighs* straight. One of the very f e w ocs I have that are cishet. Though sometimes I do make some interesting hcs about him at least trying things. >_> Idk if ill put those here though. They are sexual in nature. LOL

[wintersky94]

Perfect Blue: Awaken From A Dream by Yoshizaku Takeuchi Book Review PART I. Wake Me From This Dream (⚠SPOILERS⚠)

This is pretty much a sequel to the original Perfect Blue novel (before it became a film). Unfortunately, it has nothing to do with the events involving Mima Kirigoe but I actually like this book even though it has some disturbing imagery. It's tough being a Pop Idol in the Blue-niverse! Just think it, Body Switches♂️♀️, Bloody Fan Letters🩸💌, and… Bunny Suits🐰?! Oh My!

This Light novel has at least three short stories, Wake Me From This Dream, Cry Your Tears, & Even When I Embrace You. But instead of making a lengthy post, this is gonna be part one of the review. Okay, let's get to it!

*SKKRRRRT* WAIT! Before we get into this review, I would like to get a few things straight before we begin. Let's play a game of symbols so that we'll know what we're getting ourselves into.

🩸-This book has hints of imagery of violence, blood, self-mutilation, and gore (somewhat). Just putting it out there to let you know.

🔞- This book has sexual themes and hints of SA that are not for the faint of heart. So if you or someone you know have experienced this, I'm sorry you went through that.

🧠- Mental Illness. This is very important because loony fans cannot be reasoned with. This is the kind of stuff that'll make anyone, celebrity or not, tighten their security! In this book, these "Number One Fans" would do whatever it takes to satisfy their dark desires and obsessions...even if it means killing them.

Okay so now that we've gotten that outta the way, fasten your seatbelts 'cause it's gonna be a bumpy ride!

Here we have Toshihiko, the main character of this story. A jobless bum with a messy apartment, a lack of social skills, an ugly face, and an unhealthy obsession with idols. And he knows it but he isn't too proud of it, which makes him hate communicating with other people. The collection of videotapes Toshihiko recorded of idols was his only solace from the real world because he believed that idols would never betray him and all that. But there was a certain Pop Idol he liked the most and that was Asaka Ai. He's a big fan of her despite her being an underground celebrity. Well, TOO MUCH of a fan. He had a VHS tape of Aasaka Ai performing her debut song "Lemon Season". Toshihiko felt that Ai was relatable because of her inability to reach the top charts and he couldn't even live a decent life because of his unattractive appearance, bad hygiene, and antisocial behavior.

(Wait A minute! So we have this guy who is a lovesick loser that falls in love with a girl named Ai via VHS tape??? Sounds like a certain manga I read 🤔)

(Come on! I can't be the only one thinking this!)

Anyways, He was so obsessed with Ai that he wanted to kill her and himself. Toshihiko's favorite pop idol is on his TV screen serenading and pouring out her unrequited love for him ("I love love love that bashful you..."🎶) while he's hugging the tv and crying himself silly calling her name over and over again until...

Toshihiko finds himself in a dream where he switched bodies with Ai then while he was trying to process being inside the body of a woman, it turns him on in the worst way when he realizes he can do whatever he wanted with Ai's body even playing with himself (herself since he's in Ai's body)! Now that he's in the body of his favorite idol, Toshihiko remembered that he bought a yellow dress similar to what Ai wore on the VHS tape so he took it out of his closet and tried it on. His moment of bliss was interrupted when he felt like he was being watched. His suspicions were correct because some creepy guy was watching him/her. Ai/Toshihiko thought it was another loony fan similar to him. Then the guy came and knocked on the door. Toshihiko/Ai had asked who it was but the guy didn't answer. So Toshihiko/Ai threatened to call the police if he wouldn't leave. She /he didn't hear anything else from the guy and assumed he was gone but a moment later, that same creep came back with a knife and with killer intent. Ummmm, I think it's time to make good on your promise, Ai/Toshihiko! So the knife-wielding creep is making deep slashes on the door while Ai/Toshihiko is standing there frozen in fear. (What are you waiting for!? Why are you standing there watching this guy breaking into your house like he's Jack Torrance from The Shining!? Grab the phone and hide in the closet!!)

So the guy finally breaks in and much to Toshihiko (Ai)'s surprise, Toshihiko sees himself as the same loony fan with a knife getting ready to make good on his promise ("I will kill Ai...and myself"). So Dream!Toshihiko asks Ai/Toshihiko to forgive him for what he was about to do and that it was his only option. Then he stabs Ai/Toshihiko at least two times. As Ai (Toshihiko) is dying, Dream!Toshihiko muses on about how pretty she was and admits that he masturbates watching her videos daily! 🤮🤮🤮He's telling her all of this... while she's coughing up blood! Toshihiko (Ai) for some reason understands how this guy feels and starts smiling as he (she) died. Dream!Toshihiko slashes himself in the throat and dies hugging Ai (Toshihiko). Yikes forever!

Whew!! That was quite of a trip! I Feel a little queasy. Okay so we have a lovesick loser who lives in a messy apartment, never touched grass, bad hygiene, insecure about his looks, has an unhealthy obsession with idols (including Asaka AI) and has a bunch of VHS tapes with his favorite idols performing. This guy ends up having a nightmare where he's Asaka Ai and he gets stalked by Ai's Number One Fan who turned out be himself and gets killed.

But there is a question I have about that yellow dress. How did Toshihiko got the dress if he never left his apartment?? 🧐My theory is that Toshihiko might've ordered it from a catalog (remember those? From back in the day?) and found a dress that looked like the one Ai was wearing on her Lemon Season debut. I could be wrong but that's what I think.

Well this wraps up this review of Wake Me From This Dream from Perfect Blue: Awaken From A Dream! Part 2 Cry Your Tears is coming up next!

Until Next time, my Friends! (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧

[honeypiehotchner]

winter love (all i want for Christmas is you) -- Hotch x Fem!Reader

Hi hi hi!! I have literally been writing this on and off since September, and now I finally get to share it!! A few quick things: this fic has very much Hallmark vibes but does have a good dose of angst too; for the sake of this fic, Aaron was born and raised in Virginia; and Jack was never born (sorry buddy!).

I listened to Michael Bublé’s songs “All I Want for Christmas Is You” and “Cold December Night” a lot while writing this, so feel free to play those while you read! xx.

(The gif is from google because once again, my gif search is broken on here because apparently this post is too long?? Rip me)

Summary: You’ve returned back to your hometown after leaving to get your education, but you didn’t expect to run into your childhood best friend (and first love). 

Word count: 9.4k

HOTCH MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST

If you told yourself a few months ago that you’d be moving back to Virginia, you would’ve scoffed and probably laughed -- loudly. Your mom, on the other hand, would’ve been elated, and swore she knew it.

Like she’s doing now.

“I’m just so excited to have you home again,” she gushes, helping you carry boxes of your clothes up to your old childhood room.

The room needs some work, like taking down all these embarrassing posters and changing the sheets to something not so cringe-worthy (thankfully, it’s a full-size bed instead of the old twin you grew up sleeping on). But it’ll be fine for the time being. It’s not like you’re going to find an apartment right before Christmas, or that you even want to. It’s been a while since you’ve spent a full Christmas season with your mom.

You’ve been studying out of state for the past six years, working to get your masters and doctorate degrees — which you’ve completed. But now you need a job and a new start, which is why you decided to come home.

You’ve missed Virginia a lot more than you’ll admit. It’s hard not to miss your hometown when you’re gone from it for so long.

“We need a Christmas tree,” you say, as you come back down the stairs. “Christmas is next week, how do you not have a tree up yet?”

“I wasn’t going to get one without you,” your mom says like the fact should’ve been obvious to you.

You laugh as you plop down next to her on the couch. “I know. We should go tomorrow.”

“Whenever you want to,” she smiles, squeezing your arm. “Have you been to your coffee shop yet?”

“My coffee shop?” You raise an eyebrow. “Since when has it been mine?”

“Since you practically lived there during high school,” your mom counters.

She has a point. “Well, no, I haven’t. I just got here.”

“You should go.”

You raise both eyebrows this time, turning your entire body to face her. “What are you doing?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why are you trying to get me to go back there?”

“Why don’t you want to?”

You give her a look. “You know why.”

“I don’t.”

She does. She knows exactly what happened there.

“I’m not repeating it,” you mutter. “And I’ll be finding a new coffee shop, thank you very much.”

“Oh, you can’t let one bad experience stop you from going there!”

“So you do remember!”

“How could I forget? When you were a wreck for months after. I still never forgave him for that, you know.”

You shake your head, settling back against the couch pillows. “It’s been long enough now that I think forgiveness won’t hurt anyone.”

You say that, and yet you don’t want to step foot in that shop ever again.

+++

It was the summer before your junior year. Aaron was a rising senior, so there was the weight of it being his last year already hanging in the air. Especially when he was already looking at a pre-law track for college — meaning he’d be insanely busy after graduation with not much time for you.

Unfortunately, you didn’t realize that his being too busy for you would start before then.

You were a year younger — technically almost two, but the way your birthday fell, you were only one grade younger — but that didn’t stop Aaron from being your friend. At first you thought he had ill intentions (as most older boys in high school did), but he didn’t. He genuinely enjoyed your company, and you genuinely enjoyed his.

More than genuinely. You say now that you don’t believe in love at first sight, but you know that’s because it already happened for you, and you believe it to be a one-time deal.

That one time was when Aaron sat across from you at the lunch table.

You were alone and reading a book. You were a freshman then, and being an extra year younger didn’t exactly help in the whole making friends department. Especially when a lot of your peers were already aware of your age.

But Aaron wasn’t aware, nor did he even care.

He saw that you were alone, and reading, and he decided to sit with you. He wanted to read too, anyway, but he knew he didn’t always like being alone when he read. Something told him you were the same way.

He was correct.

It took almost the entire fall semester before either of you said one word to each other. Sometimes you’d be too engrossed in the book you were reading to even notice he’d sat down in front of you. And when you would finally notice, he would be the one with his nose too deep in the book to notice.

But eventually, you started sharing book recommendations.

Which eventually turned into helping each other with homework. You were always better at math and Spanish than he was (you were already in the sophomore levels of these classes as a freshman), but he was always good with history and English. He must’ve noticed you were in freshman English and history, but he never commented on it — at least not in a way that said he was bullying you.

That winter break was when you started going to the coffee shop together. It was within walking distance of the high school, so the two of you would go at the end of the day until your parents could pick you up. Sometimes your mom would drive him home, or vice versa.

And when Aaron got his license, he’d drive you both there and drop you off at home.

The two of you were inseparable. Almost literally.

Until Aaron met Haley.

Haley was in theatre. She was everything you weren’t. Aaron’s age, pretty, funny, outgoing, and worst of all: popular.

You watched your best friend fall in love.

And that wouldn’t have hurt as bad as it did if it wasn’t Haley he was falling for.

You kept your feelings for Aaron quiet, even to your mom — though you found out later that she always knew. You had almost thought he felt the same, or that he might be beginning to, and then suddenly he was talking about some girl named Haley.

Only she wasn’t just “some girl” to him, or even to you. Everyone knew Haley Brooks.

Slowly, your lunch table conversations were less about what the two of you were going to do the coming weekend, and more about Haley. How he was going to get her to notice him (join theatre, even though he never liked theatre before her). How he was going to ask her on a date (it wouldn’t be a date at first, just dinner after theatre rehearsal, that ended up being with the entire cast, but he sat next to her). How he was going to win her over (he brought flowers to the first performance and surprised her backstage). How he was going to ask her to be his girlfriend (that was the same night as the flowers, completely unplanned, but she said yes).

How he thought he might want to marry her one day.

The last hurt most of all. He confessed it to you one night out of the blue as he was driving you home after school. You knew you could handle him being in love with someone else. Some sick part of you knew — or hoped, rather — that the relationship wouldn’t last. What high school relationship lasts longer than a few months, anyway?

But when Aaron fell for Haley, he fell completely. And hard.

He started cancelling plans with you to spend time with Haley — before they were even dating. When they were dating, he stopped making plans with you altogether.

Then came the summer before his senior year.

It had been months since you saw him last. You had a new lunch period the second half of the year because one of your favorite teachers asked for help during the period, which meant you didn’t have lunch with Aaron — but you don’t even think he noticed.

June came and went. The two of you barely saw one another, barely talked when you did. But when you did, you clung to those moments like they were your only lifeline. In a way, they were.

July finally came and he actually made plans to see you. He said he wanted to get coffee again, catch up, hang out for a few hours, sit in silence, even, whatever you wanted. You were excited.

Some part of you thought that he had broken up with Haley — wishful thinking, but you were sixteen and in love, what else were you supposed to think?

But he hadn’t broken up with her. They were very much in love. You know. You witnessed it.

Apparently, Haley didn’t like the idea of Aaron getting coffee and lunch alone with a female friend. So, she took it upon herself to tag along.

You saw them sharing a kiss through the window, Aaron’s back facing you. When they pulled away, Haley’s eyes caught yours, but she said nothing to Aaron, just pulled him back in for another kiss.

You didn’t go into the shop that day. And you haven’t since.

The last time you saw Aaron was the day before he moved to college. He was stopping by to say goodbye to you.

You were reading a book in your room, and your eyes caught the movement on the driveway. You told your mom to say you weren’t home.

You watched him leave from your bedroom window, hands stuffed in his pockets.

+++

You heard that Aaron and Haley got married. Not because you wanted to hear, but because your mom told you. She probably meant well, but you drank an entire bottle of wine that night. You weren’t even 21 yet at the time.

Of course, it’s been years since then. You’re all fine now, and you’ve got the student loan debt to prove it.

But even with three degrees, job hunting can be a bitch. Especially this time of year.

You need coffee.

You blame the fact that this coffee shop is the best one around. And the fact that it’s Christmas season, meaning they have your favorite drink again.  

Dark chocolate peppermint mocha. It’s a godsend. And you haven’t had one in years.

Well, you have. But they haven’t been from here. They haven’t had this shop’s specially made peppermint whipped cream, or the peppermint stick that can be used to stir.

You hate how much you have to psych yourself up before you walk inside. You don’t even know where Aaron is these days or what he’s doing. He could be halfway across the country for all you know.

So, with that fact in mind, you walk inside. You embrace the familiar sight and smells, remembering what it felt like the last time you were here.

You move toward the counter, falling in the short line to the register. And your stomach flips when you see a familiar face standing in front of you.

Well, his back is facing you, so you don’t see his face, but you know it’s him. There’s this thing about first loves. It doesn’t matter how long it’s been since the last time you’ve seen them. You’ll always recognize everything about them. The back of their head, their shoulders, their hands, the way they walk.

Their voice. Even if it’s deeper than the last time you heard it.

Maybe he won’t recognize me.

But what you don’t know is that no amount of time could pass to make you unrecognizable to Aaron.

Or that he saw your reflection in the glass case next to him when you got in line, and he’s been internally trying to figure out what the hell to say to you since.

If it hadn’t been for his voice, you wouldn’t have recognized Aaron at all. A black coffee? That’s it?

The barista pours it and slides it over to him before he’s even done paying. He’s at a coffee shop -- this coffee shop, and he orders a black coffee?

Who is he?

You step up to the register as he steps away, and you swear you see him looking at you through the corner of your eyes. But you must be seeing things because why would he do that?

You focus on ordering -- a medium peppermint mocha, complete with the whipped cream and peppermint stick. After paying, you step to the side to wait for your coffee.

You nearly knock right into Aaron, but you stop yourself, well aware of his presence.

Another thing about first loves: you’re always painfully aware of their presence.

“Hi,” he says, awkward and fumbling even though it’s only one word. He’s wearing a stuffy suit and tie, which seems odd, but you’re positive that’s just normal lawyer attire. He probably lives in a suit these days. His hair is shorter than it used to be and he looks older, but so do you. Despite all of this, he’s still Aaron. He’s still the same Aaron Hotchner you fell in love with at sixteen.

“Hi,” you return the awkward smile, tugging on the strap of your purse. After a beat, you nod toward his drink. “Black coffee, huh?” You try to tease. “Who hurt you?”

He laughs loudly then, shoulders and head shaking. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too, Hotchner,” you murmur, wrapping your arms around yourself.

The conversation dies for a moment, so you busy yourself by looking at the different cakes and pastries in the glass case. You probably should’ve gotten one, but maybe another time.

Another time. Fifteen minutes ago you wouldn’t be caught dead in this shop and now you’re already thinking about another time.

“Are you busy?” Aaron suddenly asks, prompting you to look at him with furrowed brows. “Do you mind if I join you?”

“Not at all,” you smile gently, knowing you might regret this later. But it’s been over a decade since you’ve seen him last. One coffee won’t hurt.

And I’m over him, you remind yourself, no matter how untrue it might be.

Once you have your peppermint mocha -- finally, you think, it’s been too long -- you walk with Aaron to find a table. A lot has changed about this shop, but one thing that hasn’t (because there isn’t much that can be changed) is the seating.

Aaron leads you to your old table. The table the two of you practically lived at.

It makes your heart warm and ache all at once. The drink you decided to order isn’t helping matters either.

“So…” You pause, shifting in your seat. “What are you up to these days?”

“You stole my question,” he jokes.

“Tough,” you smile into your drink. “I asked it first.”

He chuckles, but answers anyway. “I’m working for the BAU now.”

“The B-A-What?”

“The-- FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit.”

Your eyes widen. “Did you… Did you really just say you’re working for the FBI?”

“I think so,” he says. “I’m the unit chief.”

“You’re the-- Okay. So, you don’t work for the...the BAU, they work for you.”

“We’re a team,” he offers.

“Said every boss ever,” you quip, taking a long drink of your mocha. You take the peppermint stick in between your fingers and stir, eyebrows furrowing down at the swirl of coffee and whipped cream. “So...what do you do exactly?”

He opens his mouth to answer, then stops, hesitating. “Do you really want to know?”

You give him a look. “Of course I do.”

“It’s not great.”

“Aaron, just tell me, or I’ll start reciting my dissertation word for word.” Your statement stuns him to silence, so badly that you almost laugh. “That’s boring. Working for the FBI can’t possibly be boring.”

“Oh, it’s never boring, that’s for sure,” he mutters. “We profile serial killers.”

“You what?”

He laughs. “We look at their behaviors and crimes and build a profile, what they might look like, their age, that stuff.”

“Intriguing.”

“I can’t believe you’re interested.”

“I can’t believe you thought I wouldn’t be,” you counter. “You know I thrive off this stuff.”

“I remember,” he says quietly.

And just like that, you remember, too.

It’s so easy to forget about all the hurt he caused, all the pain he left behind. Especially because you know he never intended to hurt you. He would never do that, not to you, not on purpose. You never told him how you felt. It’s not his fault he couldn’t read your mind.

“Well, you’ve got a doctorate,” he says, shifting the conversation. “What else are you up to?”

“How did you know it’s a doctorate?” You raise an eyebrow. “Are you profiling me? Did I use that correctly?”

“Yes,” he smiles. “And no, not intentionally. You said you’d recite your dissertation. Those are normally written to get doctorate degrees. You always wanted one, I assumed you met your goal.”

“You assume correct,” you nod. “I’m back to start job and apartment hunting, but after the new year. I wanted to spend some time with my mom.”

“How is she doing?”

“She’s good, she--” You pause, shaking your head with a laugh. “She actually brought you up yesterday.”

“Me?” Aaron looks genuinely shocked.

“Yeah, you,” you knock your foot against his leg without thinking, but you pay no mind, not wanting to draw unnecessary attention to it. “She’s actually the one who put the bug in my ear to come here.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I haven’t been back here since…”

It takes him a moment, but he nods slowly. “Right.”

“Yeah,” you draw your legs closer to you on instinct. “But that was a long time ago. How are you and Haley?”

You don’t expect the way his face falls. You glance down at his left hand. No ring.

“We got a divorce a few years ago, split up about a good year before that,” Aaron explains. “She’s good, last I heard. Remarried already.”

“Wow,” you murmur, not knowing what else to say. “What-- I mean, what happened?” When he hesitates, you backpedal. “Sorry, I shouldn’t even ask, it’s probably a sensitive question.”

“It’s okay,” Aaron chuckles. “I don’t mind talking about it with you.”

That sends a dangerous flutter through your stomach. “Okay. Well I’m all ears.”

“Oh, it’s not a long story, it was just my job,” he shrugs. “I took the unit chief position and she was happy at first. But then, there was a period of time where we had what felt like case after case after case.” He shakes his head. “I was barely home, but I was barely in one state for long, anyway. It was a stressful time. We were everywhere at once.”

“That does sound stressful,” you frown. “Has it slowed down now?”

“Kind of, it has its moments,” he admits. “But being gone so much, it took a toll on her. She wanted to start a family, but said she couldn’t do that if I was never there.”

“But I mean she had to have known how your schedule would be with the new job, right?”

“Yeah,” he says, then shrugs. “It’s been so long now that I stopped trying to understand her thought process.”

“I get that,” you say sincerely. You understand not wanting to waste energy on something like that anymore. Sometimes you just have to give it up and have peace with the fact that you’ll never understand.

“What about you?” He asks suddenly, catching you off guard. “Seeing anyone?” He adds it quietly, like he’s shy.

Aaron Hotchner. Shy. Around you.

“Oh,” you nearly laugh at the prospect. “No. No, I’m not. Do you really think I would be if I was moving back in with my mom?”

He laughs, bringing his coffee to his lips. “You have a point there.”

A comforting silence settles over the two of you after that.

You shouldn’t feel slightly giddy that his and Haley’s relationship didn’t work out in the end. You’re over him by now, anyway. But something about being right has you fighting a smile. You smother the urge, though, knowing he probably doesn’t want to hear anyone, let alone you, say, “I told you so.”

You do feel bad for him, genuinely. Divorce is never easy for anyone, and you hate he went through that. Especially like that. Haley knew his work schedule would change. Why would she act supportive if she knew this in advance? Just sits uneasy with you, that’s all.

Of course, you feel that overprotective-best-friend nature coming back to you.

“What plans do you have now that you’re back?” He asks, keeping the conversation up, but you can tell he’s earnest — which makes you smile.

“Nothing, really. My mom and I are getting a Christmas tree later, but that’s all I have on my schedule.” You pause, giving him another look. “We both know you were my only friend in high school. Who do you think I’m going to see while I’m here?”

“Hopefully a lot of me,” he replies easily, smiling around his coffee.

And for once, you don’t hesitate to reply. “I hope so, too, actually. I didn’t think you were still around here. And I really didn’t expect you to be working for the FBI.”

“This might be presumptuous of me, but what are you doing this weekend?” He asks, quickly adding on, “A good friend of mine is hosting a Christmas party for the team, and I’ve basically been threatened to bring a plus one.”

“Threatened, huh?” You raise an eyebrow.

He nods seriously. “They won’t let me inside without one.”

You gasp comically, keeping up the act. “Well you can’t miss the party!”

“I know,” he sighs, propping his head in his hand.

“Well, I guess I’ll just have to come with,” you say, still deadly serious.

But Aaron’s lips split into a grin the same time yours does. “It’s this Saturday.”

“Lucky for you, I’m free.”

He doesn’t stop grinning. “I can pick you up, if you want.”

“Yeah, I’d love that,” you say. “I should probably give you my number, shouldn’t I?”

“I was going to ask,” he admits.

You roll your eyes playfully. “I figured.”

After exchanging numbers, the two of you return to your idle conversations. Only, they’re less idle than they ever have been before.

He vents about still not understanding how people can be capable of the things he sees. How he knows that everyone is capable of unspeakable things, but it’s how they do it that still makes him stumble sometimes. And you try to sympathize, though you know you can’t. But still you tell him not to try to understand.

“You’re a good man,” you say. “You’re not going to understand it because you’re not like them.”

“Thank you,” he whispers. “I know that, consciously. Sometimes it’s good to hear it from someone else.”

Then he tells you it’s your turn, and again, you don’t feel the need to hesitate.

You tell him how you weren’t planning on moving back here at all. But the job market where you were didn’t...fit you, for some reason. You never felt like you belonged, and so maybe that’s why you wanted to come back here.

Because even though you left this place heartbroken, you still felt like you belonged when you were here. You felt like you belonged when you were with him, but you don’t tell him that.

Something tells you he heard it anyway, though. Being a profiler and all. Which you still don’t quite understand, but you’re sure he’ll have plenty of time to tell you in the coming future.

+++

After an hour or two, you decide it’s time for you to head back home. Partly because you need to make some lunch for yourself, and partly because you’ve watched Aaron dismiss at least three phone calls in the last twenty minutes.

But he didn’t say a word each time, so you know he won’t tell you who it is or if he needs to go. It makes your heart warm at the thought that he wants to spend more time with you, but if it’s his job, then he needs to go.

He walks you to your car and you hug him around his neck, unashamedly taking a deep breath of his cologne when you stretch up to wrap your arms around him. He didn’t wear cologne back in high school. But this one smells good.

You mentally prepare yourself on the way home for the amount of questions your mom is no doubt going to ask.

You’re supposed to be going to pick out a tree with her today, which means you were supposed to be home a little earlier than this, which means your mom probably already knows what happened and you won’t even get a chance to explain yourself.

In the end, your prediction was correct.

“How was your peppermint mocha?” You glance over to the couch and find your mom sitting there, idly reading a book.

The question is as directly indirect as they come. You raise an eyebrow and kick the front door closed (yes, she asked before you even stepped foot inside the house). “It was good,” you reply, shrugging your jacket off your shoulders. “Why?”

“Oh, you enjoyed it for almost two hours, so I was just wondering.” Your mom fights back a grin, but she’s not doing a very good job.

You sigh. “Just go ahead and ask.”

She closes her book. “Alright, fine, I will. How is Aaron?”

There it is.

“He’s good,” you answer rather pointedly, making your way into the living room. “He’s working for the FBI now.”

“Oh, I knew that already.”

You plop down next to her on the couch. “Seriously?”

“Of course!” She cries, like it should be obvious. “Small talk happens when you see someone in the store.”

“Right,” you scoff. “Anyway, thanks for not telling me him and Haley divorced.”

She grimaces.

“Yeah, exactly,” you nod at her expression. “That’s how I felt. I bet it was just awesome of me to ask about how him and his ex-wife are doing.”

“I’m sorry,” your mom says. “It completely slipped my mind. It’s been so long since those two split.”

“Why didn’t you tell me when it happened?”

“Because I didn’t want to bring him up,” she answers sincerely. “You seemed like you had really moved on. I figured it didn’t matter, and I didn’t want to make you start thinking about him again when you had finally gotten over it all.”

“Oh,” you murmur. “Well, thank you, then, but...still. I feel like an idiot.”

“Did he seem angry when you asked?”

“No, the opposite,” you sigh. “He explained what happened and I let him talk about it for a second, but he seems mostly moved on from it.”

“I don’t know how he can be,” your mom scoffs. “She’s already remarried, you know.”

“Yeah, he told me.”

Your mom shakes her head. “I should’ve shook some sense into that boy when he came to say goodbye that day.” Then she pauses, poking your leg. “And I should’ve made you say goodbye to him. I’ll never forgive myself for that.”

“I didn’t wanna talk to him,” you shrug. “We barely had all year, anyway. And one goodbye would not have stopped him from going to college and marrying Haley, you know that.”

“Yeah, I know.” She sighs. “It’s fun to think about, though.”

“Well stop thinking about it,” you mutter. “We are friends and he’s probably seeing someone by now. I don’t even know how long I’ll be here, so.”

Your mom raises her eyebrows. “I never said anything about what you guys are now.”

Damn. Caught. “I know, but I’m just...catching you before you do.”

“Mmm, more like catching yourself.”

“Shut up.”

She lightly hits you with a pillow. “Don’t say that to your mother,” she jokes. “Especially not when I’m right and you know it.”

“Yeah, yeah. Are you ready to pick out a tree?”

“Of course,” she replies. “Just let me find my shoes.”

While she’s getting ready -- because “finding her shoes” really means fixing her hair and makeup and changing outfits a couple times -- you get a text from Aaron.

Aaron: It was nice catching up with you today

You smile and type your reply. Ditto. We should do it again sometime.

He doesn’t reply, but you figure he’s busy at work, anyway. And you’ve got a tree to pick out and decorate, so you’re technically busy, too.

You try not to think too much about it.

+++

And truthfully, you don’t think much about it, until Aaron finally replies. It’s hours later when you’re decorating the freshly-cut Christmas tree in the living room, with Michael Bublé’s Christmas album playing through the stereo speakers. It’s just like when you were younger.

You check your phone and see that it’s Aaron texting you back, but you pocket it before reading the message. You’re busy.

Your mom notices the change on your face. “Everything alright?” She asks as she places a snowflake ornament on one of the smaller branches.

You nod without thinking, hating yourself for even feeling what you’re feeling right now. A glittery red ornament hangs from your index finger as you try to find the right branch to hang it on -- and while your mind wanders all over the place.

“Clearly not,” your mom replies. “But alright.” She turns and reaches into a different box, picking up one of the golden jingle bells that she always hides deep within the tree each year. When you were younger, she’d hide them without you seeing, and then on Christmas Eve you’d have to search the tree for them before you could open one present before going to sleep.

You snort a laugh, always loving her way of getting you to open up: sarcasm. “It’s just Aaron.”

“Aaron?”

“Texting me,” you explain, looking down at the glitter coating your fingertips from the ornaments.

“Aren’t you going to reply?” She asks, grabbing another jingle bell.

“Technically he’s the one replying from earlier today.”

“Okay…”

You sigh. Time to cave. “He invited me to a Christmas party this weekend.”

Your mom doesn’t even try to hide her excitement or her wide grin. “Really? That’s great!”

Is it? You want to ask, but you stop yourself. “Yeah,” you shrug. “I guess so. It’ll be nice to hang out with him more.” You pause, finally hanging the small glittery red ornament on the tree that you’ve been idly holding for the past two minutes. “Apparently a friend of his is hosting it and basically told him he wouldn’t be allowed inside without a plus one.” You chuckle quietly, knowing Aaron had to have rolled his eyes when his friend told him that.

“So it’s...a date, then?”

“What? No,” you shake your head. “No, no. Not a date. He didn’t phrase it that way.”

“Sweetheart, plus one implies date.”

“Who says?”

“Everyone!” Your mom laughs. “Bringing a plus one to a wedding is usually a casual date, if not bringing your significant other along.”

“This isn’t a wedding, it’s just a Christmas get together.”

“Same difference.”

“Well, I think you’re doing that thing again where you try to plant seeds in my brain for things that are unnecessary,” you raise an eyebrow at her when she avoids eye contact, so you know you’ve caught her red-handed. “All that aside,” you sigh. “I’m over him. It’s been so long. If something was going to happen, it would have already.”

“Whatever you say,” she shrugs indifferently, grabbing the final jingle bell to hide in the top of the tree. For a brief moment, you wish you hadn’t been watching where she hid them, so you could do the search on Christmas Eve one more time.

+++

You bump into Aaron one more time, two days later, at the same coffee shop.

“Back for more?” He teases as he slides into the seat across from you, another black coffee in his right hand.

You’re sitting at the table the two of you call home with yet another peppermint mocha sitting in front of you and your laptop. More job hunting is the task for today, even though you’re ready to give up and just pick it back up after the New Year. It’s not like your mom is making you pay rent, and you have enough in savings to help with groceries (without her knowledge, of course, because she refuses to let you pay for anything) and buy your own coffees. But, you decided to give it one last go today.

That is, until Aaron slid into the seat in front of you. Now, you close your laptop and place it back in your bag. “Just needed some fuel for more job hunting,” you grin. “What are you doing here?”

“I took off for lunch for once and thought I might find you here.”

“Oh?” You raise your eyebrows. “Were you seeking me out, Hotchner?”

“Maybe a little,” he admits with a shy smile. “Are you still good for tomorrow?”

“As long as you are,” you nod. “What time?”

“I’ll pick you up at five, if that’s good?”

“Perfect,” you smile. “Are you ready to introduce me to your friends?”

“Depends,” he exhales exasperatedly. “Are you ready to meet them?”

“They can’t be that bad.”

“They might be. If you aren’t used to them.” He pauses. “They don’t know you’re coming, by the way.”

“What?” You almost laugh. “Why not?”

“I told them I was bringing someone, but I didn’t feel like hearing it all week about who I was bringing.” He pauses again, like he’s holding something back, and then he lets it out. “They know all about you.”

You blink. “They do?”

“Yeah,” he smiles gently. “I talk about you all the time.”

“No,” you shake your head. “No you don’t. There’s no way.”

“You’ll believe it tomorrow,” he chuckles. “I’m sure they’ll try to embarrass me.”

“I-I mean...what do you even say about me?”

He shrugs. “That you were my best friend in high school and...that I missed you and wondered what you were up to these days, and how we used to hang out here.” He looks around the shop, then back to you and your bewildered expression. “What?” He laughs. “You didn’t talk to your friends about me?”

“No, I did,” you laugh quietly. But I said different things. And most of the time I was crying because I missed you, especially my first year of college when my roommate tried to get me to go on a double date with her boyfriend and his roommate, but I refused and had to confess that I wasn’t over you and that you broke my heart, and I was such a mess that she brought ice cream and chocolate back after their date.

But you don’t say any of that. Obviously.

“I just didn’t expect you to even...think about me, I guess,” you finally spit out, still shaking your head. “I mean...we haven’t talked since high school, I figured you’d forgotten or moved on, at least. Especially since you had Haley.”

Aaron’s expression softens and turns sad, quickly. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “I didn’t know you thought any of that.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” you wave his worry away. “It’s years ago. Water under the bridge.”

“Yeah,” he agrees. Then, he says, “Haley was jealous of you, you know.”

You immediately look up from your mocha, your eyes wide in shock. “She was what?”

“Oh yeah,” Aaron laughs. “Devastatingly jealous of you. She swore we were dating or that I was in love with you or something.”

Or something. “Wow,” you chuckle, trying to mask your hurt as much as possible. “Why did she even think that?”

You know why. You know exactly why. Because before her, you and Aaron were attached at the hip. You sat together during lunch, walked each other home, hung out at the coffee shop, went to school functions together (well, you’d actually go with a big group, but you two always ended up together anyway), and so on and so forth. Anyone would’ve been an idiot to not assume you two were dating.

“We were so close,” he shrugs. “She said she was so surprised when I asked her to be my girlfriend because she swore I was dating you. She actually asked me that, when I gave her the flowers. She said, “What about Y/N?” And I said, “Y/N? She’s just my best friend.” And she didn’t believe me.”

“That’s so crazy,” you say, but you’re really thinking back to that day you and Aaron had decided to meet up here and hang out after so long. When Haley crashed the hangout. When she locked eyes with you and smirked before pulling him back in for another kiss.

She was jealous. She was jealous and she knew exactly what she was doing that day.

Aaron’s phone starts ringing and he sighs heavily, pulling it out. He almost declines it, but then stops himself. “It’s the boss,” he says. “My boss. I’ve gotta take this. I’ll text you later?”

“Sure,” you smile, knowing he might forget or get too busy to think about it. But that’s okay. “Good luck with the phone call.”

“Thanks,” he chuckles. “I’ll need it.” And then he brings his phone up to his ear. “Agent Hotchner,” he says, and you hate that you find it so hot.

+++

You almost cancel with Aaron a dozen times before 2p.m.

You blame the conversation the two of you had yesterday. For some reason, the thought of Haley being jealous of you had never crossed your mind. Because to you, it was so obviously the other way around. Of course, you weren’t vocal about your jealousy, but you were certain she knew. Not that it was the other way around.

Old feelings have already resurfaced, which is bad enough, but the talk about Haley and about how Aaron’s friends know all about you made things worse. Especially the latter.

Why would he talk about you so much if the two of you hadn’t spoken in years? Not even years, but like an entire decade. Why would he still talk about you and think about you that much?

You have dwelled over those questions since he left the coffee shop yesterday.

But now, you have no idea what to wear, and Aaron will be here any minute. You’re assuming the attire is casual, not fancy, since it’s just a get together with his friends -- who all happen to be his team of agents. FBI agents. Because he’s just casually the Unit Chief of the BAU.

It still baffles you. He wanted to be a lawyer. Not in the FBI. God.

He’s still your Aaron. That’s what shocks you the most. He’s experienced law school, marriage, practicing law, working for the FBI, becoming a Unit Chief, divorce, and yet he’s still the Aaron Hotchner you were best friends with in high school.

You wonder if you’re still the girl he was best friends with in high school. Or if you’ve changed so drastically that he doesn’t see you that way anymore.

You take a deep breath, going back to digging through the many boxes of clothes that you have yet to unpack. You need a sweater or something. That’s safe enough, right? It’s too cold for a dress, and frankly, you’re not in the mood for wearing one, anyway.

Finally, you find the sweater you were looking for. You tug it over your head, figuring your jeans are fine enough. You’ll wear some low heels to make it look like you put in a little more effort.

Your quick thinking is to your benefit because the doorbell rings almost as soon as you’re done doing the clasp on your second heel.

But because your mom is quicker than you, she’s already opened the door and let Aaron in before you can make it downstairs. And by the time you are coming down the stairs, Aaron is sitting on the couch with your mom, making idle conversation.

“Hey,” you smile at him, resisting the urge to glare at your mom. “Ready?”

“If you are,” he nods, standing to his feet.

When he turns, you shoot your mom a look. “We’ll be back later.”

“You’re not in high school,” your mom laughs. “You two have fun for as long as you like.”

“I know,” you say. “But I also know you’ll wait up until I get back.”

“And you can’t stop me,” she replies pointedly.

Aaron laughs at the two of you, your banter just as he remembers from all those years ago. Neither of you have changed one bit.

After a final moment of bickering, you bid your mom goodbye and leave with Aaron.

In the car, you ask, “Have you told them about me coming yet?”

From the driver’s seat, he shakes his head. “No, so prepare yourself for a lot of questions.”

“I think you’re the one that’ll be in hot water, but alright,” you chuckle. “I can hear them now. ‘Why didn’t you tell us you were bringing her!’”

He laughs loudly. “That’s not a bad impression, actually.”

“Why, thank you,” you smirk. “It’s a hidden talent of mine.”

“Oh, really?”

“Mhm.”

The two of you share a grin as he keeps driving.

+++

After some time -- long enough that you were beginning to wonder where he’s taking you -- Aaron finally turns into a subdivision. But it’s still not what you were expecting.

You assumed FBI agents must make good money, but not this good. This is a mansion. It’s massive. There has to be at least six bedrooms in there, maybe more.

“Is your friend a millionaire or something?”

Aaron chuckles, “Maybe. Probably. Maybe more.”

“More?” Your eyes widen. “Wow.” And then Aaron pulls into the driveway. “Wow.”

He puts the car in park and says, “Try not to look too surprised. Dave won’t shut up about the house if you get him started.”

“What if I want to hear everything?” You ask, scrambling out of the car to look up at the house. “Jesus Christ.” Then you whip your head around to look at Aaron exasperatedly. “Does your house look like this?”

“No, no,” he shakes his head. “No. This is too big. Dave’s crazy for buying it.”

“He’s definitely insane,” you nod. “I mean, what do you even need a house this big for?”

Aaron shrugs. “Christmas parties, I guess.” He pauses, holding out his arm for you. “Ready to face the lions?”

You roll your eyes through a laugh, loosely holding onto his arm. “Quit being so dramatic. I bet it’ll be just fine.”

“Let’s hope so,” Aaron replies. Because truthfully, he is a little worried that they might scare you off. They have a habit of doing that.

The two of you walk up to the front door, and you try your best to act like you’ve been in the general vicinity of a house this big before. Dave must be a really good friend of Aaron’s, because instead of knocking or ringing the doorbell, Aaron twists the doorknob and walks right in with you on his arm.

“Dave’s making pasta,” Aaron whispers, smelling the air. He shuts the door gently, wanting to surprise the team as much as possible.

You sniff the air, too, smiling happily. “Smells really good. Is that carbonara?”

“Good nose,” a voice says from the kitchen.

“That’s Dave,” Aaron chuckles, walking you down the hall toward the smell.

The team’s eyes all widen dramatically and comically when Aaron Hotchner steps inside the kitchen with a woman on his arm.

“Well, hello,” one of them says, sliding off the stool at the counter to saunter over to you. He’s all suave and swagger.

“Derek Morgan, this is Y/N,” Aaron introduces you quickly, knowing the reaction your name will get.

“Hold up,” Derek pauses, glancing between you and Aaron. “Y/N? As in the Y/N?”

“I don’t know about being the Y/N, but that is my name,” you laugh. “Nice to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” Derek says, a hand over his heart to add to the sincerity. “Where have you been hiding all this time?”

“Getting a doctorate,” you shrug, only now realizing that your hand is still holding onto Aaron’s arm, but he doesn’t seem fazed by it either, so you don’t move.

“Oh, alright,” Derek chuckles. “Hey Reid, we’ve got another doctor here.”

The man in question, Reid, looks up from the book he was reading with furrowed eyebrows. “Hi.” He waves.

“Hey,” you wave back. “What’re you reading?”

“War and Peace. In Russian, though.”

“In-- Wow, okay.”

“He’s a genius,” Morgan explains.

“I see that,” you chuckle.

Aaron finishes the introductions for you. “That’s JJ, handles the press for us because none of us want to do it.”

“He’s not wrong,” JJ replies with a laugh. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“You too,” you smile.

“You met Reid, his first name’s Spencer,” Aaron supplies, and Reid is too far gone in the book again to notice. “This is Emily Prentiss.”

“And I have been dying to meet you,” Emily says. “You are exactly how he described.”

“In a good way, I hope?” You laugh nervously.

She nods. “Definitely.”

Aaron points to the other woman at the counter. She’s dressed in all sorts of crazy colors with glasses that match her outfit. And before he can introduce her, she says, “I’m Penelope Garcia, technology extraordinaire. I keep them out of trouble.”

“And we love you for it,” Derek adds.

“And this is Dave,” Aaron finishes.

“It is very nice to finally meet you,” Dave says, and actually shakes your hand. “Do you know how to make carbonara?”

“Yes, actually,” you say, earning a surprised look from Aaron. “I went through a phase when I was younger, wanting to make anything and everything that sounded good, so I’ve made this a few times. My mom loves it.”

Dave loves the sound of that. “Would you like to help me?”

You practically light up inside and out. “Seriously? I’d love to!”

“Oh, here we go,” Derek groans. “He’s roped her in.”

You ignore him, slipping away from Aaron to grab the other apron off the hook by the entrance to the kitchen. You slide your head through the loop and tie it at the back in a matter of seconds, too excited to contain it.

“I almost went to culinary school, you know,” you say to no one in particular, but Aaron is listening, and so is Dave.

“Why didn’t you?” Aaron asks.

You shrug. “Didn’t seem practical.” Which isn’t the real answer at all. The real answer is you got your heart broken and needed to do a complete 180 in life, so you did. Culinary school was out. Getting a doctorate was in. You turn on the water in the sink and begin washing your hands. “What do you need me to do?”

For the next hour, you help Dave make the carbonara, occasionally answering any questions Aaron’s friends have for you.

Aaron pours you a glass of wine and sits at the counter, watching you cook. You look more at peace than he’s seen you since a few days ago when he first bumped into you again.

You catch him looking at you more than a handful of times. It feels good. Spending the evening with his friends, his team, with him. You’ve missed spending time with him more than anything else.

Dave serves up the carbonara, telling you to sit down since you helped so much already. You don’t make him ask twice.

+++

After dinner, everyone moves into the living room, scattering on the various couches and chairs. Reid has finished reading War and Peace, so the book sits discarded on one of the coffee tables.

You take the spot on the couch next to Aaron, careful not to spill your wine. Penelope sits on the other side of you, with Derek on her other side, which all but forces you to move closer to Aaron, and something about the look on Penelope’s face tells you it was done on purpose.

You’re not exactly complaining, though. With a full stomach and a fresh glass of wine, Aaron’s presence is even warmer than before. You pay no mind when he shifts his left arm, stretching it over the back of the couch and allowing you to scoot closer, your legs pressed against each other’s.

The conversation continues, and somehow the subject of relationships is brought up.

“Yeah, why was I the only one asked to bring someone?” Aaron asks. “I’d like to see all of you find a last minute date.”

Another warm rush goes through your body at the word date. This is a date. Alright then.

“I think you did just fine,” Dave says, nodding to you. “Don’t you?”

You shrug, not sure of what to make of it. “I’m having fun, so I guess so.”

“See?” Dave gives Aaron a look. “You did fine.”

Aaron gives his friend a tired glare. “Only because she happened to be back from getting her degrees. Otherwise, I would’ve been stuck.”

“Nah, man, you could’ve called Beth.”

You feel Aaron tense next to you, but you aren’t sure if he tensed up or if you did. Maybe both. Probably both. You weren’t aware there was someone else.

“Who’s Beth?” You ask as casually as possible, ignoring the heated glares Penelope, JJ, and Emily alike are sending Derek. Seriously, Derek would be dead three times over right now if looks could be deadly.

Aaron shrugs before answering you. “Her and I dated briefly last year.”

You nod slowly, trying not to seem hurt or upset or anything by this because it’s ridiculous of you to be fighting back tears, but you can’t help it.

It’s high school, goddamnit, it’s fucking high school all over again.

The topic of conversation shifts thanks to Reid being the endless supplier of random facts. One question about Russian from Emily and he’s taking over, washing the awkwardness away in two languages.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t work as well for you as it does for everyone else.

You set your wine glass down on the table and tell Penelope you’re going to use the bathroom. You have no clue where it is, but she doesn’t know that.

Aaron does. And Aaron hears the tone of voice you use.

He waits until you’re down the hall before he stands to follow you, foregoing any explanation to his friends. They already know what he’s doing.

Aaron’s suspicions are correct when he hears the front door close and sees your coat no longer hanging next to his on the hook by the door. He grabs his and only gets one arm through a sleeve before he’s opening the door, eyes searching the premises for you.

Thankfully, he finds you after two seconds, and his racing heart slows a little. You’re standing by the reindeer lights on Dave’s front lawn. Your coat is only hanging on your shoulders, something you’ve always done since high school when you were upset.

“It feels more like a blanket,” you had told him one day. “Blankets are more comforting than jackets.”

He doesn’t see the difference, but you do, and that was enough for him.

He has both arms through the sleeves by the time he’s next to you. He gently touches your arm to get your attention, adding a soft, “Hey,” for good measure.

You turn your head at the sound, having already known he was coming because you heard the front door open. In the back of your mind, you had wanted him to follow you out here, but now that he’s done it, you aren’t so sure this is what you wanted.

You wanted to ignore the feeling. Get it to disappear on its own. Survive the night, then never talk to him again. You were heartbroken, but it was better when you weren’t speaking to him. At least, that’s what you tell yourself.

“I’m sorry,” Aaron says softly. “Beth and I haven’t spoken since our last date a year ago. It was only three dates. We weren’t serious at all.” He pauses. “I have no idea why Derek said that. He doesn’t think before he speaks sometimes.”

You nod, not having it in you to laugh at Aaron’s small jab, even though he is entirely correct. Derek is a quick thinker with a sharp wit, but you can see how it might backfire sometimes. Like tonight.

You believe Aaron, you really do. But it’s so hard. “Did you love her?”

Aaron is stunned for a moment, but says, “No. I don’t think I did.”

“Okay.” You shake your head, looking down at the grass. “I’m just trying to figure out why Derek would’ve brought her up if...if you guys dated so briefly.”

Aaron sighs. “I don’t know.”

“And is this a date?” You blurt, finally finding the courage to get that one out. “Because if it is, I…I don’t know.”

“Don’t know what?”

You shake your head again, trying to find the right words, but they always seem out of reach. “Just...tell me this won’t be like high school.”

This time Aaron is too stunned to form a real answer. “What?”

“Please,” you sound like you’re about to cry and you feel so pathetic that you wish you had never agreed to come tonight. But you’re here anyway. “I was in love with you then, and I’m still in love with you now, but I can’t do that again. So if this is a just friends thing and always will be, I need you to tell me before I hurt myself all over again.”

Aaron can’t believe his ears. He swears he heard you wrong. He must have. “You were in love with me in high school, too?”

“Yes-- Wait, too? What do you mean too?” Now you’re looking at him, eyes wide in confusion, shock, every emotion possible. “Too?”

“I was in love with you, Y/N,” he chuckles, reaching for your hands. “I thought you just saw me as an older brother. That’s why I never...said anything.”

“What?” You breathe, letting him thread his fingers through yours. “Are you serious? You better not be pulling my leg, Hotchner. Don’t do that to me.” You tug on his hands for emphasis, giving him a stern look.

“I’m not joking,” he says, taking a step closer. “I wouldn’t joke about this.”

“Oh my god,” you say, disbelief a powerful thief of words. “I can’t believe… So you went after Haley because…”

“Because I heard from one of her friends that she had a crush on me,” he admits. “I did love her, but not as much as I loved you. Never as much as I loved you.”

You don’t know what else to do or say. He looks so beautiful in this light that it hurts, and now he’s saying words you never thought you’d ever hear.

“Do you forgive me?” He asks. “For breaking your heart?”

“Only if you forgive me for breaking yours,” you whisper.

He shakes his head. “I broke my own. I should’ve told you how I felt.” He pauses. “I even talked to you about Haley all the time. Is that why you didn’t say goodbye to me?”

You nod. “It sounds so stupid now, but I was so hurt.”

“I’m an idiot,” he laughs. “I’m the dumbest fool to ever walk the Earth.”

“We both are,” you correct him, taking a step closer. It’s cold out here, but he’s warm. He’s always been so warm. Like home.

And you-- you’ve always been who Aaron thinks of when he thinks about being happy. It’s always been you. A moment like this, and a thousand others. He wants them all. And to think, you do too.

His lips meet yours in a long-awaited kiss, cold noses bumping against one another, his warm hands holding your face, your chilled fingers finding their home on his neck, stealing his warmth.

From the window, the team watches, and Emily exchanges money with Derek.

[hello-nichya-here]

What do you think about the ATLA Comics portrayals of Azula's friendships, or lack thereof, with first Mai & Ty Lee & then later on with The Fire Warriors (The Fake Kemurikage)? Also, as a person with mental health issues, how do you feel about the demonization & villainization of mentally ill people in the comics? For it never sat well in my soul that the biggest threat to The Gaang/Zuko's regime post-war was a terrorist cell made up of abused mental asylum inmates who met inside their asylum.

The easiest way to sum up that shit show:

The writers completely ignored/retconned 90% of what made the show and the characters themselves interesting: the complexity.

Just like Ursa had her backstory (and a big part of her personality) completely, Mai and Ty Lee's feelings about Azula went from a deeply complicated mix of love, genuine admiration, respect, fear, resentment and even hatred, to just pure, boring "This bitch is crazy and we're afraid". This happened for the same reason: the writers were uncomfortable with the concept that NO ONE is born a monster, not even "the bad guys".

And why was Azula treated as completely equal, if not worse, than her father, despite still being a teenager while he was a grown man that should have known better? Azula bias, of course! On this case, the writers qualify to the category of "The ableist fucker". Azula stopped being a character to them the second she started hallucinating.

In their minds, she was born "crazy", and crazy = evil/broken beyond repair. They can't understand how anyone could have any positive feelings towards someone "like her" (aka someone with a mental illness), and so they "corrected" that by having her be friends with other people who were "beyond saving". Even the few moments in which they recognize that Azula was someone else's victim, like having her mother apologize for not having loved her enough, feel gross because the writers keep acting like it was some inevitable tragedy - one that was caused by Azula's mental illness, and therefore, in their eyes, "her own fault". They can't see that this was the fault of the adults in her life (Ozai for abusing/grooming her, Ursa and Iroh for blaming her for it) and completely preventable. For fuck's sake, even the way she was drawn was meant to make her look unhinged and scary, and the characters were constantly physically assaulting her to "defend themselves" while she was literally doing nothing because the writers think just being in the same room as someone who is mentally ill is somehow a threat to "the sane ones"

As a fan who cares about these characters (not just Azula despite her being my favorite) and as someone who doesn't like it when writers talk down to their audience, this shit makes me angry.

As someone who is mentally ill, I unfortunately already expected this. Long before I realized the comics were shit. Because this shit is so common, that I'm just numb to it at this point. The sad reality is that in media in general, mentally ill and disabled people can only be viewed in four, equally awful ways

1 - The monster/threat

2 - The burden (aka the character that irritates and causes trouble for "the normal ones")

3 - The Idiot Savant (same as the previous one, but is kept around because of some ability they have that "compensates" the others characters)

4 - The eternal victim (exists solely to suffer, and that's somehow "inspiring" and a "lesson to us all")

[feelingofcontent]

DNP Rewatch: THE PHOTO BOOTH CHALLENGE

Date video was published: 11/10/2013 (X)

DNP Main Channel Rewatch: 204

An old-school webcam video (for obvious reasons)! Later we find out that they filmed this on Phil’s laptop. Phil said it would “haunt your nightmares.”

0:00 - every time the image is flipped from normal it looks so weird to me

0:07 - Jenna Marbles started this tag on YouTube!

0:25 - this is so different from Dan’s usual content at this point. It is still his most-viewed video of all time.

0:38 - it took approximately 1 second for them both to burst out laughing. Great start.

0:41 - “you failed you failed” hate to tell you Dan...but you didn’t do much better 😂😂

0:53 - their laughter is so intense and infectious in this video

1:18 - Phil’s got such a disturbed look on his face at this moment

1:28 - Phil with such a creepy voice saying “Daniel” 😨

1:35 - “you like that Katie” why is Phil so disturbing in this 😳😳 Even Dan is horrified.

1:58 - first of all...more creepy masks that I hate. Second of all...👀

2:15 - just the effect being named “bulge” is disturbing

2:23 - they are just constantly telling each other to stop in this video 😂

2:40 - “it’s kind of disturbing what you’d look like with a muscle” wtf Phil.

3:06 - LMAO at Phil falling off the chair (and not Dan falling off for once!)

3:13 - this is so weird

3:29 - Phil would make a terrible pun

3:46 - that is great. Phil is hilarious.

4:00 - the effect quality is so questionable but they are getting so into it

4:03 - well Dan stayed on his chair, but not on the bed...

4:22 - Phil is right that this somehow made Dan look just like a goblin

4:30 - Phil is having fun with this one

4:41 - I think Dan is including himself in the “permanently traumatized” group there

4:50 - jesus christ WHY. 👀

5:27 - yikes

I adore this video. It’s not Dan’s usual type of video, but it is certainly entertaining. And a more comfortable dynamic between DNP on camera than some joint videos from the year or so before this.

If I was right with my presumption in my last post about when they found out Nigel was ill, this would have been the first YouTube video Phil filmed after finding that out. I can’t help but wonder if part of the reason for Dan choosing to do this tag was to do something silly and help Phil get back on camera. Much later on, Phil says this is his favorite Dan video, which makes me so soft considering this context. 😭

[night-unfurls-its-splendour]

The Critique of Manners, Part II

~Or~

A Candid Review of ITV's Emma (1997)

Disclaimer: I do know that both this and the Miramax version were released in 1996, but to avoid confusion, I refer to this one as the “1997 Emma” in reference to the US release date.

The bones of this review were written some six years ago after my initial viewing. I’ve watched it three or four times since then, two very recently (Within the past year). I’d started to soften on it in the most recent watch. So many people love it so much I thought surely maybe I’m just crazy or even wrong; until I found this blog post from 2008 (a year before my favorite version was released) that hit on almost EVERY SINGLE thing that skeeved me out about this version when I first watched it.

Like my previous review of Emma. (2020), I’ll be covering the cast and overall handling of the script in comparison with what I know from reading the book. I will also be commenting on my thoughts about the costumes (Whether they are attractive or accurate, or both, or neither) which will be a bit more in depth than it was for the 2020 version, and this will set a pattern for the costumes section going forward.

Directed by Diarmuid Lawrence with screenwriting by Andrew Davies (Or should I say “Written by Andrew Davies with direction by Diarmuid Lawrence”?), this version was  a fan-favorite among Janeites for many years for … well, reasons I’ve never been entirely certain of. I’ve read the book twice through and referenced pertinent passages MANY times besides, and really I don’t see what they’re raving about.

Let’s dive in.

Cast & Characterization

I’d known about this adaptation for a while, but I held off on watching it, largely for one reason: my apprehension about Mark Strong playing Mr. Knightley.

     I was concerned because when I watched this I had already seen Mark Strong as Sir John Conroy in The Young Victoria and as Lord Blackwood in Sherlock Holmes, both very unpleasant characters. But there have been several occasions when I expressed displeasure with casting choices only to eat my words when I actually watched the movie. So I entered into watching this with an optimistic outlook, sure that Mark and Kate would surprise me with brilliant performances. And I would like to say that they did, but that would be an untruth.

My biggest fear about Mark Strong playing Mr. Knightley was that his rebuking of Emma was going to be a watered down version of ‘RAAAWWWRRR’ that I was familiar with, specifically because of The Young Victoria. It’s very hard for me to see Mark Strong point his finger in Emily Blunt’s face and shout at her, and then watch him do the same thing with Kate Beckinsale (only somewhat less aggressively) and expect to feel all warm and fuzzy about their romance. I expected that to be a tall order. And it was. Whenever he raises his voice, the right side of his face pulls up into a snarl. Now since it does this no matter what role he’s playing I’m guessing that’s just how his face is. It’s not his fault really and it’s almost certainly unintentional, but I’ve seen that snarl before and it does NOT belong on Mr. Knightley’s face.

   Don’t ever think I don’t LOVE Kate Beckinsale, and I don’t necessarily think that my problems with this interpretation of Emma are her fault; these things very rarely fall on the shoulders of the actual actors, but those of the screenwriters and directors who guide them. However – and I am aware that this might sound a bit harsh – I would say that at points, Kate Beckinsale’s performance in this movie (In my opinion) barely outstrips community theatre or even very good high school drama club level acting. It seems to me that there’s burden on her here to sound historical or period. This lends to this interpretation of Emma feeling at once both cold and childish (more on that later.)

Her best moments are when she runs into Jane as Jane is leaving Donwell and when she speaks with Robert Martin at the end of the film. I always like scenes where Emma tacitly apologizes to Mr. Martin, and her feeling when she invites him to Donwell is Kate’s finest moment in this movie.

I found Raymond Coulthard’s Frank Churchill insignificant at first, but on repeat viewings I really started to hate him. I don’t think Austen intended Frank’s caddishness (to use more modern vernacular I’d say he’s an utter “Douche”) to be quite this obvious on first glance. He’s a creep in this version and Raymond Coulthard is just not at all attractive to me, from his big nose to his little shark teeth.

Olivia Williams was a good, even great, Jane Fairfax, and in my opinion does a much better job of portraying Jane’s vexation than, say, Polly Walker did (more on that next time), while still quietly looking like she’d like to arm-bar Frank rather than take his vulgar teasing lying down.

She also has the distinction of being the only Jane Fairfax who’s singing REALLY blows Emma’s out of the water, and I like that all of the songs she sings are in languages other than English (primarily Italian I think?). This achieves the double whammy of showing how much more accomplished she is than Emma by emphasizing that not only does Jane sing and play better, but she knows languages too.

Samantha Morton is a superb actress whom I love and I was sort of appalled at how she looks in this movie. Is she dying of a wasting illness? She looks like a gust of wind will carry her away, although since she looked the same in the 1997 Jane Eyre (In which she played the title role under similarly appalling direction) perhaps that was just her look that year?

Dominic Rowan, as Mr. Elton, is… there’s a perfect word to describe it and I just can’t think of it right now. Like every other young man in this movie (other than Robert Martin) he’s got this feeling of skeeviness to me but it’s more than that. It’s a dweebie-ness as well. This is so dissatisfactory to me because Mr. Elton is supposed to have every appearance of charm and agreeableness, with his only obvious fault being his over-eagerness to ingratiate himself to Emma and some rather vulgar locker-room type talk about marrying for fortune. He’s just so… (I’ve hit upon it now after some discussion with my sister) dingy. He looks less like a “very handsome young man” who “knows the value of a good income” and more like the kind of guy that scrubs up okay, but still you can tell from the rumple of his clothes and the pizzaroni odor wafting from him that he lives in his mom’s basement.

The shining star for me in this production was Alistair Petrie as Robert Martin. I love him as an actor and especially after watching him in Cranford, I think he was an excellent choice for Harriet’s Mr. Martin.

Davies wrote the character to be a little more romantic (Actually buying Anne Radcliffe’s The Romance of the Forest, where originally Mr. Martin was supposed to forget to – something Emma uses as a mark against him to prove how he will age into an “gross vulgar old farmer” who is “obsessed with profit and loss”.)

I especially like an inserted scene where Mr. Martin, working in his field, sees a distressed Jane Fairfax from afar as she is walking home (I think from Donwell). I thought it drew an interesting parallel between two emotionally wronged characters that otherwise would have no interaction.

What’s with Mrs. Elton (Lucy Robinson)? I don’t think nearly enough people question this. I’ve seen it explained away as her being from Bristol and trying to make herself sound more hoity-toity to hide the fact that she’s New Money. I’m not positive on what a Bristol accent sounds like (For that is where Augusta Hawkins is from) but… this sounds like an American trying to sound posh. At some points she almost sounds Texan. It’s all very confusing, because the actress is British.  

Prunella Scales lists among her achievements being an outstanding actress and comedienne, as well as bringing into the world Samuel West, one of my all time favourite British screen crushes. She's probably best known for her work on Fawlty Towers, so its interesting to see her range as much less inscrutable Miss Bates. Her performance is by the book, but so much more engaging than Constance Chapman's 1972 offering, although i find her perhaps a shade too placid. She lacks a certain nervousness that I associate with the character (for more information, see my previous review.)

As for Bernard Hepton as Mr. Woodhouse, I can only say I. Didn’t. Like. Him. I have every consciousness of this being a personal bias. I have seen him play too many insufferable characters in too many things to like him as Emma’s lovable if tiresome father. This isn’t a knock on him or his performance; his reaction to Mrs. Elton is some great subtle visual comedy, this is just a me thing.

Another one of the better characterizations, though a relatively small role, is John Knightley. Played by Guy Henry, he is shown to be a good father, and an “Gentleman-like man”, with just the right blend of good humor and caustic comments.

Sets & Surroundings

I’d never paid MUCH attention to or questioned the houses and interiors used for estates in Austen adaptations until the 2020 version of Emma used such ridiculously lavish houses for relatively provincial gentry it forced me to sit up and pay attention. I think the houses used in this version are mostly suitable.

The part of Donwell Abbey’s exterior is played by Sudeley Castle in Gloucestershire. The Key words for Donwell from the text are “rambling and irregular” and while perhaps not as big as the Former Claremont House (Which, it is believed, was Austen’s inspiration for Donwell Abbey) it definitely is a suitable architectural style and situation and furthermore, having been purchased in the 19th century by a glove manufacturer and having been up to that point left in a little bit of a state of disrepair, fits the “neglect of prospect” Austen describes as well. Its interiors are a cobble-work of the Great Hall at Broughton Castle (Oxfordshire), various rooms at Stanway House (Gloucestershire), and the Strawberry beds at Thame Park (Oxfordshire)

(Top, left – Sudeley Castle; Bottom left – Trafalgar Park; Right – Dorney Court)

Trafalgar Park in Wiltshire and its interiors (a minty sage-green drawing-room fitting in perfectly with the mint-chocolate – primarily chocolate – color palette of the production) played the role of the Woodhouse’s home, Hartfield. A typical Georgian style house in red brick, I believe is consistent with Austen’s description of a “well built, modern house”.

Dorney Court in Buckinghamshire was used for Randalls, Mr. Weston’s recently purchased estate. It’s a Tudor style red brick house and it looks pretty on the mark from the front facade, but I think it’s still too big for a “small estate” with only two guest rooms (Although there’s no panic about the snow in this version – perhaps because it’s already snowing when they set out.)

My biggest problem is the lighting of this movie. I understand natural lighting and I LOVE it when you can even it out – but it is so dark in the evening scenes that it adds to the colorlessness of an already colorless production.

Fashion

Oh Jenny Beavan. You are a well-respected costume designer with good reason. However, I know that most of these costumes are rentals, but why is every-fucking-thing in this movie a shade of brown, beige or green?

As you can see, a rich tapestry of brown and beige. And this isn’t selective. this is (just about) every day-wear outfit in the movie (barring repeats and a few exceptions that I’ll give mention to below.)

Emma’s outerwear is brought to you by Hershey’s Chocolate. Also I’m not certain but I think  that her light brown redingote is the same one as Elinor’s in the 1995 Sense and Sensibility? If anyone can confirm, drop it in the comments.

Perhaps the evening wear will be more colorful?

Barely – Mrs. Weston in a brownish orange; Mrs. John Knightley in an orange-ish brown; Emma gets a dark blue? Or is that just the wintery glow from the window on a dark green velvet? Green (either so dark it’s almost black, or washed-out mint) appears to be the only color Emma is allowed to wear other than brown or ivory/white. Even her gown for the Crown Inn Ball (upper right) is an underwhelming and rather dingy ivory. The champagne number she wears for Christmas at Randalls is not only lack-lustre, but also sports what I’m now calling a “Bridgerton Bust” (where the Empire waist comes up too high, with the seam apparently resting across her bust rather than under it.)

The pink frock (seen properly only from the back) on Mrs. Weston is as close to real color as a main character gets in this production, and can be recognized as one of Jane Bennet’s dresses from the previous year’s Pride and Prejudice.

Even Jane Fairfax doesn’t get a break. Rather than putting her in Jane Fairfax Blue ™ (honestly, Jane Fairfax being costumed in blue is so consistent at this point Crayola should just name a crayon in her honor - this is gonna come back in future reviews) she gets a black-green evening number with no trim at all, and a succession of what the Ladies over at Frock Flicks like to call the “Dumpy Regency Little White Dress”, or drab gray-blues.

Some of the background dancers in the Crown Inn Ball scene get to wear pink! Why not put Harriet in a nice pink frock for this scene?! Why is this so difficult?!

Strawberry picking at Donwell is the only time main characters are consistently wearing identifiable colors that aren’t brown or green: Mrs. Weston in pink, Miss Bates in (oddly the most colorful dress of them all) a nice refreshing lavender blue; Jane gets grey/blue and Mrs. Elton, a pastel mint. Harriet is also given a little break in Mrs. Elton’s introduction scene in a (very) pastel blue frock, while Emma sports white (with a trademark green shawl.)

So how about the...

Similarly dull. I almost screamed for joy when I saw that Frank’s jacket was actually blue, and a vibrant blue at that. (The red is too close to brown, I’m sorry.)

So yes, in short the costumes, while perfectly technically accurate (I didn’t get a lot of caps of them but the trousers sufficiently tight, not that I care to look), are drab as a peahen.

As always I’ll outsource any dancing critique by linking Tea With Cassiane on YouTube, since I find her insights on the approach to dancing in Austen adaptations just fascinating and I would like to share such witty and informed reviews.

The Andrew Davies of it All…

*Strong Opinions Ahead*

There are so many reasons why this adaptation isn’t for me. First of all the very idea of making Emma, one of Austen’s most socially complex works (certainly her most vivid) into a sparse 107 minutes is baffling to me. Perhaps I can understand if it’s a Theatrical release but this is a TV production. Why not at least make it a two part special?

And besides the issue that, in order to make this fit the time frame, the story is severely truncated, there’s… the Andrew Davies of it all.

I have some issues with Andrew Davies’ screenwriting for this adaptation particularly. A LOT of issues. Where does one start? I think Knightley is a good place.

It’s not just the casting I don’t like here; but it does say something to me that they chose Mark Strong for this role. It’s a casting decision I discovered with disbelief when I first saw clips from this version in a Period Drama men compilation video on YouTube. I mentioned above that I know Mark Strong as unpleasant characters with man-handling habits. That’s the kind of role Mark Strong is associated with because that’s just what he does well. And I think this played into the casting here, because Davies’ interpretation of Knightley is a bit… fierce. He shouts SO MUCH in this movie and in scenes like the Harriet Smith debacle (where Mr. Knightley of the book even gets a bit angry with Emma) I can understand this, perhaps. But in the book Mr. Knightley takes many pauses to collect and calm himself, because his goal is not to quarrel with Emma but to argue a point. 97 Knightley takes no such pauses and spends the whole scene in what some might call an escalating rage.

Knightley’s cheerful arrival to Hartfield to tell Emma that Robert Martin intended to propose to Harriet is cut out so we start right off with his indignant exclamation of “She refused him?!” and it’s all go from there. To make matters worse, Emma’s own arguments are crippled by Davies’ editing. Many of her more (what might even latterly be considered “feminist”) arguments are cut out. In fact once Knightley gets going, he juggernauts his way through all of his rebukes and speeches from the book, but Emma hardly gets a word in edgewise after arguing that Robert Martin is not Harriet’s equal. What Austen wrote as a heated debate is turned by Davies into a one-sided tirade. (By don’t take my word for it, watch the clip.)

The final cherry on top is having Emma, after Knightley leaves the room with the last word firmly in his grasp, childishly pout “You are wrong Mr. Knightley, and you will see you are wrong and then you will be sorry.” I half expected her to cross her arms and stomp her foot. Worth noting is the fact that Davies adds an additional “It was badly done. Emma,” in this scene where there was none in the book. Rather overkill to my mind. Is this his catchphrase?

At Box Hill, Davies has Knightley begin his climactic rebuke of Emma’s insulting behavior by grabbing her arm and hauling her aside, and concludes by leading her, still holding her arm, to the carriage. Well at least he doesn’t shout at her in this scene; but again, all but one of Emma’s responses are cut out and she stands there, pouting until Mr. Knightley leaves and then she bursts into tears.

When Mr. Knightly proposes to Emma I was feeling good about this scene, until he dropped the “I held you when you were three weeks old” line, and I immediately felt uncomfortable. Maybe you DON’T want mention how you held her when she was a baby after you asked her to MARRY you. But perhaps worse is Emma’s response to the line: “Do you like me as well now as you did then?”

Bringing up holding Emma when she was three weeks old at the proposal (A line which was not in the book) is bad enough but there seems to be a peculiar repeated emphasis on Knightley recalling Emma as a baby. He dragged it up previously when he and Emma make up after the Harriet debacle, as he holds John and Isabella’s baby daughter (whose name, I would mention, is Emma.) In this instance too, the line is a Davies addition.

Let’s talk about Knightley’s strawberry line.

This is delivered in voice-over as a transition to the strawberry picking party at Donwell, and is portrayed as a formal invitation: “Mr. Knightley invites you to taste his strawberries, which are ripening fast.”

At first I was confident that I was reading too much into this (but I think at this point I can safely say that I’m not). I can’t help bursting out laughing every time I hear that line. It was a questionable way to word that if you ask me, especially considering that this is (once again) NOT the line in the book, and it was NOT a formal invitation. It was said to Mrs. Elton and intended to be a joke.  

“You had better explore Donwell then,” replied Mr. Knightly “That may be done without horses. Come and eat the strawberries; they’re ripening fast.”

   ‘ If Mr. Knightly did not begin seriously, he was obliged to proceed so...’

   And here I thought Janeites hated adaptations that cut out “Miss Austen’s biting wit.”

To top it all off, we have Frank Churchill (Who I have already pointed out is a bit of a creep in this adaptation and even more detestable than he already was as Austen wrote him) praising Jane: this would be fine, if he wasn’t drooling into Emma’s ear about the turn of Jane’s throat, (He actually utters this line)

and how fine his dead aunt’s jewels will look against her skin. May I just be the first to say “Ehewhegaugh”.

I juxtapose this with the book where Frank's lines are almost exactly as Davies renders them, except Jane Austen never wrote the "have you ever seen such a skin?" Line. The difference i have highlighted in bold:

"... She is a complete angel. Look at her. Is she not an angel in every gesture? Observe the turn of her throat. Observe her eyes as she looks up at my father. --- You will be glad to hear that my uncle intends to give her all my aunt's jewels. They are to be new set. I am resolved to have some in an ornament for the head. Will it not be beautiful in her dark hair?"

Because talking about how pretty your fiancee's hair is, is normal and marginally less creepy than talking about what a fine skin she has or how lovely your (i cannot stress this part enough) dead aunt's jewels will look against it. Davies' script also makes no mention of having them reset, which makes me think he’s talking about the actual necklaces and bracelets Mrs. Churchill would have worn.

But hey, maybe its just a me thing.

Harriet Smith’s story suffers, primarily, I can with some candor admit, due to the time constraints. After Mr. Elton is married, we never see Harriet in any distress. It’s almost as though she’s forgotten all about it! Emma never has to appeal to her to exert herself or to move on. Perhaps this is better than Doran Godwin’s Emma gaslighting Harriet and manipulating her by constantly chastising her for… well general heartbreak (but that’s a bugaboo for a different review.)

My last complaint of note is that ludicrous harvest feast at the end of the movie. The whole concept of this scene just does not seem at all Janely to me. I was under the impression that I was meant to be watching an Austen. Not some bullshit Thomas Hardy knock-off. This is another Davies touch and I hate it more on the principal that it is one of his numerous, obsessive tweaks made solely to point out the existence of the lower classes.

If Davies wanted to show Mr. Knightley’s being an attentive landlord and gentleman farmer then I don’t see why he couldn’t just show Knightley actually running his farm?

“Okay’, you might say, “but I think the highlighting of the servants is to show how good Knightley is by treating them like real people compared to everyone else”, and I hear you. And in the situations where that is the case, like him greeting the Woodhouse’s butler and asking after his family I think that’s totally fine and in character. But things like the servants moving the knee cushions every time someone moves down the line at strawberry picking, to me, is AS ridiculous as the “servants clipping the lawn on their hands and knees with tiny scissors” trope. Like we get it, people took the lower classes for granted, but I don’t think it’s a stretch to say that it would be easier and more realistic to have Mrs. Elton have to move her own knee cushion. I don’t think Knightley would instruct his servants, who he treats so well, to do that kind of thing, but you could write in Mrs. Elton’s expectation of it if you wanted. It seems like the kind of thing she would expect the landed gentry to do.

Screenwriter for some of the best loved Austen’s (including the sacrosanct 1995 P&P Mini-series and my favorite Sense & Sensibility), I thought of Davies for years as untouchable; until Sanditon happened and left everyone who knows anything about Jane Austen really wondering where this mess came from. I put it to you now that it was there in Davies all along.

Davies admitted, when talking about the drastic “Sexing Up” he did in Sanditon that he felt Austen’s works could have done with a bit more sex appeal. I can hardly disagree and additions like Darcy’s little swim in the pond and Edward Ferrars’ angsty wood-chopping are welcome and beloved. But it seems that what he really wanted all along was what he gave us in Sanditon; and finally, without actual source material to stand in his way, he had a chance let his dirty old man show and gave “Austen” the sexing up he thought it needed.

And it gets more troubling as you look back.

In my opening paragraph to this review I mentioned a 2008 blog post that not only agreed with me that there’s something very off about this screenplay, but gave me some possible insights as to why. It points out numerous things that I have always questioned in this version but have never seen anyone else criticize (though I am informed that more recently it has gained its’ share of critics). In fact the post itself actually points out that almost no one in the Austen Blog-sphere had (at that point) criticized this version’s faults in any meaningful way, but my favorite thing about it is that it points out what you find in Davies’ screenplay if you pay careful attention to it “Rather than sitting there and cataloguing what is “technically faithful and whatnot”.

Many Austen bloggers have kind of been playing Miss Taylor to Davies’ Emma for some two decades and change.

The most troubling thing of all is Davies own comments on Mr. Knightley (and other things, more inferred in his screen play). All of the aspects of this interpretation of Knightley that I mentioned earlier seem to stem from the fact that, as quoted in Sarah Caldwell’s book on his works, Davies thinks there’s “Something odd going on with Knightley.”

Davies clearly reads foul, or at least questionable, intentions in Mr. Knightley but I find it interesting that, rather than cutting out material he may have found troubling about Knightley in the book out of his screenplay, he doubled down by adding MORE troubling lines and situations (that were never in the book at all, and imagined solely by himself) in a romantic story with a happy ending.

Perhaps there’s not so much something odd going on with Knightley, Mr. Davies, but with you.

Final Thoughts

At this point I might ask what it is that everyone sees in this version that makes them think it’s so perfect, but that would be a bit pointless since all I’ve read since I discovered this version is people on elaborating on just that and I don’t care to hear much more.

“The lines are verbatim!” textually, perhaps, but it’s the ones that added that trouble me.

“The leads have so much chemistry!” I’m glad you think so, but I can’t find it.

“The costumes are damn near perfect!” And brown. So, so very brown.

As a 90's TV period drama, this version is pretty standard. It sticks to the book (except in those places where the screenwriter saw fit to dabble with some subtle but troubling suggestions about the characters.) And if it floats your boat, as always I'm glad it gives you what you want from the story.

I know I hold unpopular opinions on Jane Austen adaptations, and perhaps this is one of them, but every time I watch this version I feel the need to read the book as a cleanse. Perhaps Davies’s ferocious Knightley was simply a pendulum swing reaction to Douglas McGrath’s almost too laid back interpretation in the Miramax film from earlier in 1996, but even if that’s the case it’s just uncalled for and is my biggest turn off for this film.

Tone: 3

Ribbon Rating: Badly Done! (40 Ribbons)

Casting: 5

Acting: 6

Scripting: 4

Pacing: 2

Cinematography: 4

Setting: 3

Costumes: 5

Music: 2

Book Accuracy: 6

[inosukeslefttoe]

girl.... omg.... this game rlly means it when it says itll show me the ultimate despair....

so my first fav character was sayaka right,,, and then it was mondo,,, WHICH ISNT TOO GREAT FOR ME LMAO ALL MY FRIENDS HAVE SUCH TRAGIC FATES THIS GAME IS FULL OF TRAGEDY BUT ITS SO FUCKING WELL DONE AND IM EVEN MORE OBSESSED NOW (was low key scared id actually get depressed bc of this since i tend to get rlly attached to things like this,, and yeah i miss mondo like hell but ITS IN SUCH AN EXHILARATING WAY YKNOW AND I CANT WAIT TO KEEP PLAYING THE GAME)

but lmao i just wanna scream about all the little things that made this part of the game even more tragic,,, so first of all is like,, how similar mondo and chihiro are right ?? like at first you see them and ur like “wow these two are lowkey polar opposites bc mondo big tough violent outspoken scary man while chihiro is tiny passive inferiority complex timid man” but after hearing both of their stories, you can tell that they both suffer from the same things and have the same goal. they both have terrible inferiority complexes, they just deal with them differently: chihiro kinda gave into it and ran away from it by deciding to hide his true self behind something he saw as “weaker” than him and letting that become a part of his identity out of fear that he was too weak to try and change/fight it. Mondo on the other hand overcompensated big time for it and became the ultimate manly man when inside he felt nothing but weak and guilt. also like,, a few times mondo mentioned that hes rlly bad with emotions right and he handles them through anger and violence so,,, this means that whenever he has these negative feelings towards himself he has no healthy way to let them out and just keeps pushing them down and trying to maintin this facade of a strong man and never letting anyone know that hes “weak” but this just ends up as a big ball of negativity and adds to his “weakness”...and like... bro chihiro and mondo couldve grown so much stronger together bc they suffer from the same things but could learn how to deal with it better together and balance each other out.... but mondo acted so quickly and violently and did something he couldnt undo which just added to his self hatred and YKNOW ALSO KILLED THE MOST PURE HEARTED STRONGEST PERSON IN HERE BUT AT THE SAME TIME MAKES IT HARD FOR YOU TO BLAME MONDO AND HATE HIM FOR IT BUT UGH THERES JUST SO MANY LAYERS AND ITS SO EMOTIONAL

next.... as you can tell by the gif.... IS MONDOS RELATIONSHIP WITH TAKA... ill prolly make a post screaming abt how much i love them later lmao but like... god what hurt the most for me personally during this bit wasnt that my favorite boy died/had a whole tragic story.... but that his best friend had to go through such betrayal and such loss. like... not only did taka have to see this side of mondo that mondo was desperately trying to hide and find out that his best friend had broken everything he stood for and yknow,,, feel the ultimate sense of betrayal, but he also had to see his best friend brutally killed in front of him. like,, holy shit man mondo was straight up confessing but taka... TAKA REFUSED TO BELIEVE IT AFTER ALL THIS EVIDENCE AND THAT HIT SO MUCH HARDER THAN LEONS DEATH AND THE LIL RHYTHM MINI GAME THING bc in leons case he was like “it was self defense !! i had to !! its not my fault !!” after murdering someone,, but in this case,,,, mondo admitted to it but it was his Bro who refused to accept it and was fighting tooth and nail to save his best friend. AND LIKE,, TAKA IS THE ULT MORAL COMPASS RIGHT ?? AND HE STRAIGHT UP HAD TO KNOW IT WAS MONDO,, AND THAT BREAKS LITERALLY EVERY RULE ON ANY MORAL COMPASS,,, BUT TAKA STILL FOUGHT FOR HIM WITH EVERYTHING HE HAD..... also i noticed taka cursing and that seemed so ooc but so utterly heartbreaking.... and i love how they added extra drama in the game by having the va violently scream in agony for taka like.... talk about despair lmao. omg and my brother is watching the anime right and he was like lol you should watch the scene from it too if you wanna be more sad.... AND OH GOD HE WAS RIGHT... the fact that taka resorted to some violence by grabbing mondo aggressively and shaking him and yelling ... and the fact that he was like “why did you kill him make me understand” kinda thing and mondo couldnt even look at taka or say anything.... BUT EVEN WITH THAT,,, TAKA STILL COULDNT BEAR HIS FRIEND BEING KILLED AND BEGGED MONOKUMA TO KILL H I M INSTEAD ??? GOD MY HEART CANT FUCKING HANDLE THAT. LIKE THAT BOND THEY HAVE BRO AND HOW MONDO SEVERED IT AND HOW TAKA WAS NOT GONNA LET IT BE BROKEN THAT EASILY AND HHHHHH IM . SO . SAD. but seriously... that was a whole new level of despair imo for this game to add such a beautiful relationship between these two and have it end so tragically by taka, the moral compass, dropping his morals and refusing to see the facts in front of him and still ready to die for his bro.... also the whole “make me understand” line kinda just... he couldnt even condemn mondo for it, he wanted to know his reasonings so he could know that his friend wasnt a bad guy and couldnt die yknow...

HAHA I GOT ALL SAD AGAIN WRITING THIS DUDE BUT ITS JUST SO GOOD HOW COULD I NOT MAKE A POST YOU FEEL ?? im so hyped to start chapter three tomorrow but i swear if it gets any sadder it might actually affect my mood and ill have to take a break... but i think that the death of my fav + the relationship doomed to despair is quite a high level to beat for me personally since i always find things to be more sorrowful when it has anything to do with human connections like that lmao

1/2/21

[just-me-in-my-head]

I posted 854 times in 2021

287 posts created (34%)

567 posts reblogged (66%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 2.0 posts.

I added 421 tags in 2021

#drawing - 78 posts

#sketch - 73 posts

#fanart - 60 posts

#cute - 36 posts

#rainbow rowell - 35 posts

#lesbian - 29 posts

#simon snow series - 28 posts

#carry on - 28 posts

#klance - 27 posts

#voltron - 27 posts

Longest Tag: 120 characters

#i legit walked down stairs a few minutes ago and my parents were like wtf why are you downstairs and i just was like idk

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

'Anyone can have pretty eyes, but only the right kind of person can hum the alphabet and make it your new favorite beat' -Adam Silvera 'They Both Die at the End'

61 notes • Posted 2021-06-13 14:58:11 GMT

#4

Okay, so if you follow me this is most likely going to show up on your 'following' page and this isn't what I typically post. In fact, I am posting this with full knowledge that probably no one will read this. I just feel like screaming at a void is all and yeah.

Sometimes I feel like I want to look like a boy but then sometimes after that I want to look like a girl and I think wow that was strange that I wanted to look like a boy. And then I cant remember how it feels to want to be a boy until it happens again but the whole time in-between I sit there thinking that I must've been faking it. Maybe im looking for attention. Maybe thats what im doing everytime I post something, everytime i text someone, maybe I just want attention. Sometimes it makes me feel like it's better not to talk to people about my life or post at all and maybe it is because sometimes it feels like that would be better as coming off as attention seeking.

But then again, maybe it's good to want attention. Everyone needs attention at some point it's just part of being human. I dont know.

But sometimes I kind of feel like a stick figure. No defining features. Not girl or boy or anything. I wonder if the world would be an easier place to live in if sex-defining body parts didn't exist at all.

Or maybe I'm faking this and just want attention. That probably is the case and I dont even know what im doing right now.

I cant tell who I am right now because sometimes I just feel so strongly that I'm a girl (like right now) but later at some point I'm sure ill start to feel like a guy again and I dont know what to do about it.

I just wish that I was just ME. Whatever that even means anymore.

64 notes • Posted 2021-10-31 12:29:34 GMT

#3

So, like... can we talk about Baz?

SPOILER ALERT DO NOT PASS THIS LINE IF YOU HAVEN'T READ AWTWB!!!!!

Baz is just like... that person that they write break up songs from the POV of, I mean, dang, bro. He's just like, 'here, let me listen to this one song on repeat until I'm over Simon, which will be never. Good luck, my neighbors who can hear me through the walls! Soon, I'm going to find a way to magic this song, and THEN you'll have to deal with just these two LINES on repeat, and you will SUFFER! Hahahahaha *starts sobbing*'

89 notes • Posted 2021-07-11 21:06:38 GMT

#2

Baz's and Simon's socks, oof.

Sorry the pictures are kinda blurry

237 notes • Posted 2021-08-29 00:48:47 GMT

#1

Reblog if you want someone to hug you until you fall asleep

254 notes • Posted 2021-09-09 01:25:32 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[chiafett-moved]

I posted 1,705 times in 2021

597 posts created (35%)

1108 posts reblogged (65%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 1.9 posts.

I added 934 tags in 2021

#art - 211 posts

#fave - 155 posts

#ask tag - 108 posts

#hunter - 103 posts

#star wars - 68 posts

#not sw - 62 posts

#fox - 60 posts

#the bad batch - 59 posts

#echo - 56 posts

#dogma - 52 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#they even gave me a learning disability diagnosis to fit all the stuff that didn't fit in with adhd into my diagnosis without calling me aut

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

Autistic Fox Masterpost

You heard it here, folks, CC-1010, everyone’s favorite red commander, is autistic.

Fox's Autism Subtype is Hypercompetent But At What Cost

He masks a lot and can go for hours at a time, but it's really tiring and he has to spend a lot of time alone to recover

He has a few scripted conversations that get him through most of the day, but if you deviate from the norm you will stop him in his conversational tracks

Fox has atypical empathy. He forms deep connections to a select group of people and has a very hard time letting them go or sharing them with others. With those not in his group, he generally couldn't care less.

It's not that Fox doesn't understand what other people are going through, it's that he has a hard time putting himself in their shoes and feeling what they must be going through. He has intellectual empathy, but he's a little short on emotional empathy.

On that note, he's aromantic of the sort where it's like, "why would I date you? I don't know you and you're going to bang your teeth against my teeth, bite me, put me in an uncomfortable position, and then steal my clothes and try to make small talk." His aromanticism is definitely linked to his autism and that's okay! He's valid! I'm valid! All aromantic autistics are valid!

That being said, he does like to share time and space with his Special People. You know Fox loves you if he just moves into your space and Does Not Move Out Again. Has he talked in five hours? No. He's showing affection by giving you his favorite water glass.

Fox loves routine. Even though he rarely keeps the same hours from one day to the next, he has rituals and patterns he goes through in the same way every time that make things tolerable. For example, he always takes his caf the same way. He puts his armor on in the same order every time. He has the same conversation with Thorn Every Day and it's annoying but Thorn loves him too much to tell him to stop.

One of his special interests as a kid was foxes. That's all I think I need to say about that one.

Favorite stims include pressure, the texture of one specific part of his vambrace, rocking back and forth on his feet, and whistling in that weird text-tone way (which is really scary when your name is Quinlan Vos and you're sharing a hotel room and it's the middle of the night and you didn't know Fox Just Does That sometimes).

Can hyperfixate on work if he times his caf consumption and ritual completion right, the absolute MADLAD.

Bonus headcanon: Quinlan Vos has ADHD (more on this later) and they are obsolutely the kind of ADHD/autistic pair that clashes HORRIBLY. Quinlan can never sleep at night and Fox is always tired. Quinlan can't stand other people's motor stims and Fox can't stop flapping his hands. Fox gets an anxiety tic and Quinlan's ADHD adopts it (yes that's a real thing yes it's annoying). They don't get along until one of them's nonverbal and the other's infordumping.

That's all for today, folks! Tune in next time for Hunter Autism Headcanons!

97 notes • Posted 2021-02-22 05:07:29 GMT

#4

Wrecker is a golden retriever Hunter is a retired police dog Tech Crosshair and Echo are cats I don’t know what’s so hard to understand about that

100 notes • Posted 2021-05-10 04:41:59 GMT

#3

Quinlan appeals to those of us with chronic/lifelong mental illnesses because his whole story is about saying, “Yeah I did shitty things, yeah everything sucks right now, but I’m going to get up and I’m going to keep moving and I’m going to try to be better because that’s what life is about.” He really said goodness is something you work at and I love him for that.

110 notes • Posted 2021-08-20 14:55:28 GMT

#2

I can’t believe Omega adopted Hunter

257 notes • Posted 2021-05-04 15:11:35 GMT

#1

Lesbian love teaches you to love yourself. When you love another woman’s body you are loving your own body.

I reach down and grab my own hip. It’s soft and covered in stretch marks and I wonder if anyone could ever find me beautiful. I reach down and grab my lover’s hip. It’s soft and covered in stretch marks and I wonder if Aphrodite is reborn in every woman or just this one.

To learn to love another woman is to learn to love yourself.

3625 notes • Posted 2021-11-13 18:41:34 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[ajokeformur-ray]

Introducing - Dr. Hannibal and Mrs. Erika Lecter.

Self - shipping game (started by @jokersspookyhyena​; thank you for the tag, darling!💗)

I’m really nervous about posting this because Hannibal is...  very special to me. The bond we share is on a similar level to the one I have with Joker. The only real difference is the length of time; Hannibal has been with me for far longer. I love him so much that it hurts and I wouldn’t be who I am or where I am without him.

PLEASE NOTE - 

Mentions of abuse, dissociation and passive suicidal tendencies - unspecified, just named as listed. It’s relevant and almost central to our relationship. If you want to skip this bit, it’s the question asking his favourite things about me, specifically. Every other question is safe, loves! My connection to him is raw, and so are my answers.

Word count: 2, 450 (uhhh... woops??)

When did you get together/how long have you known them?

Hannibal and I go way back. I have known Hannibal Lecter, as a character across all forms of media, since I was thirteen, but NBC’s Hannibal I met when I was shy of eighteen. I adore all portrayals of Hannibal Lecter, but this Hannibal is my most favourite one. Not because Mads Mikkelsen is outrageously attractive, although that’s also true, but because in him I found solace, peace, acceptance, understanding... and safety, in more ways than one. Over the course of the time we’ve known each other, our dynamic has always changed and it’s grown with me. As I’ve gotten older, the dynamic has become increasingly romantic. When I look back on my life, Hannibal’s always been with me, and thank goodness because I wouldn’t be who I am today without him. I am so grateful to and for him for so many reasons it’d be impossible to list them all.

Nicknames, both yours for them and theirs for you!

Sksksksksk I annoy Hannibal with all my nicknames for him: Hanni is the one I use for everything, more than his own name, pretty Hanni when I want cuddles but I’m too shy to actually say, my love when I’m feeling tender for him (all the time) sometimes I’ll combine nicknames and say; Hanni, my love. Sometimes I call him my precious cannibal... that’s for our most romantic moments, though. When I’m talking to others about him, I usually attach “my” to the front of his name. He’s not mine, of course, and I don’t own him and he doesn’t belong to me, but the bond which we have is mine, and this is an important distinction.

Hannibal doesn’t have many nicknames for me. He most often calls me by my name, little fawn/doe when I’m especially skittish or he makes me accidentally jump (it’s not hard to do, though it’s not fun for him because it takes ages for me to calm down), dearest, my love, and the most recent addition is, phoenix or my phoenix... I wrote about that here if you want to read about why he calls me that!

Who’s on top?

Hannibal, most often. He likes to push, destroy and reset boundaries in his own image, though, so sometimes he’ll make me go on top just to see what I do. Spoilers: I always nuzzle my face into the warm crook of his neck, lock my arms and legs around him, and close my eyes. If Hannibal desires for anything sexual, then he has to roll me to be underneath him because once I’m on him, all I want is the safe cage of his embrace (though, on the rare occasions I get... amorous, I just aim my hips downwards every time I shift to get comfortable. It’s subtle enough to be missed, but Hannibal knows me and his chuckle rumbles through his chest and it always makes me smile).

Who is more protective?

Mmm... Hannibal, I would say. I don’t take the best care of myself and Hannibal often has to help me. Erika, don’t you think you should eat something? It has been several hours and you don’t want to get a stomach ache from not eating for so long, do you? and other such less than subtle reminders. 

However, I’m not totally helpless and if anyone hurts my Hanni, then oooooooh, this fawn bares her teeth. You do not touch my Hanni. I may be afraid of confrontation and of raised voices, but if I catch wind of anyone targeting Hannibal, then none of that matters. Good luck taking Hannibal to prison, Jack, I’mma square up and you better be ready to catch these hands. 

Who said ‘I love you’ first?

Meeeee ~ , I did!!!!! Because I knew him so young, for about six years of our friendship, I used to just say “I love you” and Hannibal would smile patiently but otherwise not encourage anything, for obvious reasons. But one day, I said I loved him and Hannibal gave me the time old reaction. “No, Hanni, listen. I love you.” He blinked once, twice, smiled... and still didn’t say it back. But that’s okay - I like to think that he loves me too. Maybe he does, maybe he doesn’t. He’s Hannibal Lecter, who knows? If it’s a moment which needs for him to say it back, he’ll most often say, “and I, you.” It’s close enough.

Who does the household chores? Including cleaning, cooking, anything around the house.

Hanni and I split everything. I live with him and he refuses to let me pay rent or for food and the like (I have something of a guilt complex so I always feel bad for 'taking’ anything without giving something back, which is usually more than what I was initially given), so instead if something needs doing, I’ll do it without saying anything. Hannibal is incredibly self-sufficient and I stay out of his kitchen (I can cook well enough but Hannibal’s Japanese knives scare me so I stay out of the way and he’s very particular about the order of things in his kitchen), and I don’t go in his office either, but the rest of our home is mine to do whatever I want with. Sometimes I’ll deliberately stay out of his way and when he comes a-running (but not to help), he finds I’ve done odd jobs here and there around the home. He doesn’t thank me for it, he knows I don’t want that, so he dips his chin and eyes me with those gorgeous chocolate eyes, and I know I’ve earned myself a cuddle session later. Both of us know that that’s what I was after the entire time, though neither of us addresses it. He’s taught me well. A bit too well, he sometimes thinks.

Who gets hurt more often?

Me 😂 I have been known to trip over my own foot standing still and it’s not unusual for me to stand up and to sway as I try to find my balance and for Hanni to reach up to grasp my wrist until I’ve settled. It’s embarrassing and my cheeks always go bright red from blushing, but the heat of his hand seeps into my skin and I can’t tell which of the two body parts burns more. Sometimes his touch lingers on my skin and I end up sitting back down, not wanting to leave my precious cannibal. This was what Hannibal wanted the entire time and we both know it but we don’t address it, and I realise that either I’m becoming more like him, or he’s starting to adopt some of my own mannerisms. You and I have begun to blur is something Will once said to Hannibal, but it’s not a wholly exclusive sentiment. There are aspects of me which are because of Hannibal and we both know it.

How do you sleep?

I don’t, not without my Hanni. He most often lays on his back and lets me settle myself half on his body and half off. One of my legs stretches across his body so that my inner knee is pressed to his outer hip and I wrap my arms around his shoulders. My face finds its way either into his chest so I can hear his heartbeat and feel the rumble of his voice in my ear, or pressed into the warm crook of his neck so I can feel his pulse against my skin and know that he is alive and safe. When at last do I fall asleep, for it takes me a long time to settle and to get comfortable (seven hundred position changes and a sacrifice to Satan), Hannibal turns off the light he allows me while I fall asleep (if I wake up in the dark, I’ll be scared to the point of a panic attack and then he will wake and comfort me. This increases my trust in him and further ensures that I won’t leave him. We both know he does this but again, it’s not addressed. I trust him implicitly, which again... is all a part of his plan.) and then he turns onto his side with me pressed tightly to his chest.

Sometimes, on very rare occasions, when Hannibal has been hurt or if he’s sick, he likes to lay atop me and our positions are the same as above, but reversed. So he’s the one clinging onto me and I am the one on my back, protecting my pretty Hanni from all who seek to do him harm or to take his freedom away from him... that’s something I’d never condemn him to. I love him far too much to ever put him through that. Beasts belong out in the wild, do they not?

Fears?

Hannibal fears having his freedom taken away from him, he fears being completely vulnerable, he fears never being understood... his fears are bigger than me, so I can only love him as hard as I can every single day, without hesitation, thought or fault.

And, well... I have lots of fears. My biggest fears are the dark and... certain physical illnesses and Hannibal has offered multiple times to get me a suitable therapist, but I refuse every time. I have my Hanni, so I have everything.💖 He knows me and he knows that if he just stays, I’ll even lay in the pitch darkness for him... if he just stays. So he stays and, oh, my fear smells delicious and he craves more... so I crave his closeness and on it goes. We kind of... led each other into this relationship but looking back, I definitely don’t want it any other way. I’m not sure about Hannibal. 

Favorite physical and personal feature about them?

I love all of Hannibal, but his eyes are the warmest pools of chocolate I’ve  ever seen. I like to cup his face in my hands, especially when we’re sat in his study by the fire, and I like to get very close to him so that my nose is touching his and I just look into his eyes, the soft orange glow of the fire giving his dark irises a red tint... he has the eyes of a shark. 

And that voice... asdfghjk 🥵🥵🥵 many a panic attack has been stopped before it’s started, many a nightmare soothed, by even one word. Hanni has to be careful what he asks of me because he knows that I won’t ever say no to him, but that was all a part of his plan... so long as I love him, I am useful to him. I lost all of myself once and Hanni helped me to find her. His voice led the way, it called out to the darkness in me, and I could only answer his call. He saved me.

And I love his hair... especially in the mornings when it brushes against his eye lashes, I... I just love him.🥺🥺🥺

My favourite personal feature of Hannibal’s is his mind. His psyche is an ocean with murky, never before charted depths, and I long to dive in at the deepest part and to never resurface. I long for his tongue to cut into me, for his words to slice me apart, and then for him to submerge me in the depths of his mind, in the depths of the love he may have for me, and to soothe away the metaphorical wounds I inflict upon myself daily (my inner voice most often sounds like my abusers, try as I might). I long to become one with my cannibal so that never are we torn asunder.

Their favorite physical and personal feature about you?

Mmm... this one is really hard to answer because I am not, ah... favourable of myself in any way. My dress just rode up to my thigh, though, and I can literally see the answer: my tattoo. A few years ago, something terrible happened and as a result, I dissociated to the point of barely functioning and I experienced passive suicidal ideation for a long time even after I escaped that situation (Hanni is the reason I left that, too). Instead of giving into that, though, I designed and then got a tattoo and though I wanted to die, Hannibal made me feel alive that day. Though I know that Hannibal doesn’t like his meat branded (😂), I also know that he loves my tattoo. It’s a physical mark of my love and my devotion to him, and of course it strokes his ego. He quite literally saved my life and I wanted to immortalise that instead of destroying myself further.

Even if I do say so myself, she’s gorgeous:

His favourite personal feature about me is the fact that I see him. I know exactly who Hanni is. I know what he’s done. I know what he’s capable of. I know his past, his present, and I see who he is. I can look at him and guess within an accurate measure as to his thoughts and feelings. I see him and I know him and I love him genuinely, with everything that I am. There have been multiple points in my life where I’ve lived for him in a very raw and real way, and he knows that. Hanni is a rare gift and by some stroke of luck, I was given him. I’ll never be able to repay him for his kindness.

Something intimate you do together?

We lay together. Not just cuddling like I answered in a different question, but we talk. About anything and everything. Hannibal listens more than he speaks up until he notices I’m getting tired, and then he speaks and I listen. He’ll cite Dante in Italian or quote Shakespeare, he’ll talk about Schrodinger's theory or answer my question do killed spiders become ghosts? And we spend that time together. There’s an intimacy not just in naked bodies but in bared souls too, and when both forms happen at the same time? It’s the purest, rawest intimacy he and I are capable of. And it happens nightly - no exceptions.

Who needs more TLC when sick?

Hanni rarely gets sick or injured, so this is me again. I usually work as best as I can through my sickness and I’ll tell him that I’m fine, I don’t need anything... but he takes care of me because he knows I want him to, even if I won’t say it. I’m the kind of person who longs to be wholly self-sufficient and independent, and I can do it, too, but I soften considerably when someone treats me the way I treat them and it almost always makes me cry, no matter who they are. I’ve learned to be strong so when I’m taken care of, I don’t know how to handle it... but Hanni does. Hanni has seen me at my best, at my worst, at my worst and everything in between, and he can handle all of me. If that’s not love, then I don’t know what is.