#sir please file a ticket and get in line

[lostbabybunno]

Be me

Guy at work keeps asking for me to clear all his notifications and inbox

Explain to Guy it's not possible as the tasks are active processes and will close automatically once completed by appropriate team

Guy not happy with this answer

Advise he can filter them out or mark as read and ignore but appreciate it is annoying

Guy mad, Guy call, Guy not listen

Me tell guy to file ticket and we will review

Guy files ticket

I pick it up, give same advice, close ticket

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

Good Omens graphic novel update: June 2024

Welcome to the June update. A lot of behind the scenes work at the moment but we're grabbing the travel sweets, popping in the Bentley and hitting the road. More on that below.

Admin

Ongoing reminder that the project FAQ can be found here. 

I pledged using my Apple ID, or no longer use the address my pledge is attached to, or I cannot work out what email address my pledge is connected to. What should I do? Please contact us via your Kickstarter account where the pledge is connected; we will be able to see on our system which address it is. If it's one you have access to, great! The FAQ has information on how to resend your invite link to access the PledgeManager. If it's one you are not able to access, then you can let us know which email is preferred and we can update this on the system, which will automatically send a new invite.

Events

We've had a lot of queries about when the Good Omens team will be attending events more formally, after some Aziraphale and Crowley spotting at conventions we'd been to previously. Well, we're excited to confirm the first: Good Omens HQ will be at ACME Comic Con in Glasgow, Scotland this September.

We'll be bringing the actual-real-life-home-to-Crowley-and-his-plants Bentley from Season 2 of Good Omens, the first time the car has been made available publicly for fans to come see and get photos with, ahead of its journey back to the set and the start of Season 3 filming.

We also see Quelin Sepulveda, aka Muriel, has been announced for the event for some additional ineffable joy.

You can get your tickets for ACME Comic Con here. We hope to see some of you there.

While we won't be rocking up with the Bentley to this next one, we want to let you know about Ineffable Con which, though sold out in person, is also taking place virtually in July. The fan-run event hosts great panels, auctions and more, with money raised going to Alzheimer’s Research UK, in memory of Sir Terry Pratchett.

Where next? We have - not an exaggeration - a list of about 200 events somewhere from when we asked fans this on Instagram and while we can't promise quite that amount of convention attendance, we're certainly looking to do some more things in future with Good Omens at large. Watch this space.  

Good Omens items...

This month has largely seen prototypes and samples for the wider Good Omens merch store arriving, and while we can't share those yet, we are certainly excited to see more fan product suggestions coming to life. That does, however, leave our public item updates a little slim on the ground.

To make up for that, here's some new panels from Colleen:

Also known as, "What could possibly go wrong?" And:

Also known as, "Well why don't you ▇▇▇ ▇▇▇▇▇▇ ▇▇▇ ▇▇!@#▇" or words to that effect, we'd imagine.  

Update from Colleen

Following such a positive response to Colleen's piece last month, bringing you behind the scenes into making the Good Omens graphic novel, we are delighted to say that she has agreed to write something for our updates going forward! For June, she's going more in depth into the process of flatting and the technicalities of colouring on screen vs print. Over to you, Colleen.

---

I mentioned the other month that I use a flatter to help me with technical work on GOOD OMENS, and here is a great example.

This is my original, hand drawn line art.

And this is the flatting file which was created using the MultiFill computer program.

It will put your eyes out.

The raw image above demonstrates how the color art lines up solidly under the line art. If it doesn't do that, you get a weird phenomenon in print called ghosting, a tiny little line of white around each segment of color. I had this issue on one major project and ended up redoing every single color file after I got a look at the first printing. Nearly two weeks of work.

The same image with the line art on top.

The layer order looks like this.

Background copy is the clean, line art layer.

I scan the art at 600 dpi, then make the blacks pure black, the whites pure white. Then I convert back to greyscale, then RGB, then duplicate the layer. Then I delete the white on the upper layer so the line art layer is transparent but the blacks on that layer are not.

If you have blacks on a layer that has been multiplied, you can see slight color through those blacks. You want pure black.

The lower layer is where I use the MultiFill program to create the digital flats. First you use MultiFill to drop in the random colors, then the companion plug-in Flatter Pro to make those colors seal under the black lines.

This probably sounds like a silly thing to worry about, but if the flat colors don’t line up perfectly under the black line art, you get the dreaded ghosting I mentioned. You can see it below in this image. It’s a tiny little white line that will appear around the black lines and color areas.

This drives me nuts and is an absolute nightmare to fix.

It’s a very common problem, especially for people who work for web and don’t anticipate the problems going from web to print.

What looks great on your computer can cause big problems in print.

From here, my flatter Jul Mae Kristoffer, who is way over in the Philippines, does flatting that is more in keeping with the areas of color I want to isolate. As you see on Layer 1.

But again, this is still pretty ugly, and not what I would use for final color. Flatting is a technical issue, not a creative one, though in some cases a flatter will make choices you may use. Most of the time they don't.

Here is my final color page.

Sometimes my MultiFill flats are so wonky I have a hard time getting my brain to snap out of what I see before me. If I get stuck, it's a good idea to just pick at it and come back to it later.

If it really, really bothers me, I’ll take the MultiFill flatter layer and desaturate the color so it doesn’t poke my eyes out.

Here’s an example. The digital flat file.

The desaturated flat file that doesn’t make me want to poke my eyes out.

And the final color.

Sometimes I just put in a solid white layer so I don’t see the flats at all. Flatting is there to allow you to easily pick spots to color in, and doesn’t usually appear in the final work.

Sometimes I want to create my colors using transparent color over a white ground, which is more delicate in the final.

Here’s an example from Neil Gaiman’s American Gods. I also selected all black line art here and converted it to sepia to give it a vintage look. Except for the fairies. They’re green.

A colorist must also consider color settings.

Different clients can have different requirements. I find these color settings, which I got from the Hi-Fi Studio, to be pretty solid. I use them as my default for all my projects unless otherwise requested. If your publisher has other settings, they’ll usually send you a csf file which you can upload to Photoshop. The program will save your files and you can just switch between them as you need them.

This tells the printer things about the paper and the spread of the ink you will use. That’s what dot gain means - it makes printed color look darker than intended, so you set up your files to account for it.

When you hover your pointer over each box, it will tell you what each setting is supposed to accomplish.

Another really important thing to consider when coloring comics is color range.

I’m coloring this book in RGB range, but for print you use CMYK.

I’m about to confuse the heck out of some people with this post, I’m afraid. But here we go.

Here is this shot in RGB color setting.

And here is the same page calibrated for print in CMYK.

The biggest shift is in the reds. Print cannot match those reds.

You may not see much difference here, but it’s the sort of thing that drives artists crazy.

A computer should be perfect for conveying exactly what you want, right? It's all just 0's and 1's, binary information, and that information should be the same from one computer to the next?

Nope. Not even close.

First off, computer monitors must be calibrated. You can use a computer program or a tool that measures the color on your computer screen and then adjusts the color to an industry standard.

Have you ever been in an electronics shop where a bunch of TV shows were on display, all of them playing the same show, and have you noticed how different the color was from one TV to the next?

It's like that.

I freely admit I don't pay a whole lot of attention to calibration, but if I were a professional photographer I would. I'd have a little spectrometer attached to my screen and software would adjust my monitor to the best possible standard range. As it is, I just use the default setting on my computer and hope for the best.

If your monitor is properly calibrated and your art is shown on another monitor that is properly calibrated, the art will look almost identical from one monitor to the next.

YAY!

But from one monitor to the next, that's about where the resemblance ends.

Colors are calibrated to something called RGB, or Red, Green, Blue.

All colors come from a mix of red green and blue. At their greatest intensity, all the colors in the spectrum together become pure white light.

This is why RGB is called ADDITIVE color, because you ADD colors from the spectrum to get ALL colors, and all colors create the entirety of the rainbow, and pure white light.

Your computer monitor, your phone, your television, all images are created via light using RGB, a gamut that covers all possible colors that can be created.

That's a lot.

And that's why some of the colors you see on your TV or phone are so deep and intense.

For the widest possible range of color and intensity, you use RGB.

Unfortunately, there is what you can create with light, and then there is what you can create with pigment or ink. And that is why printing what you see on your computer almost never looks exactly like what you see in a book.

For printing, you must use a color setting known as CMYK. This stands for Cyan, Magenta, Yellow and Key/Black.

In printing, the pure blue is actually Cyan and the pure red is actually Magenta.

CMYK color range is not created by addition, but by SUBTRACTION. In order to get the color you want, you reduce the percentage of one of the four colors for ink mixing. Mixing all colors, instead of giving you white, gives you black.

The gamut of CMYK is limited to what can be created with ink.

You've probably heard the term four color press? This is what that means. Four colors, with each color of ink run over the paper on rollers which, combined in varying layers of opacity, create all the printing colors you see.

But remember, what you see on your computer monitor and what CMYK gamut can handle are two different things.

Now, I’ve been really careful with the color settings on Good Omens, so there haven’t been any big surprises, but let me show you a snippet of a project I did for the French fashion house Balmain.

The RGB version:

And then this shot after it was converted to a CMYK file for print.

That's a pretty big difference.

Now, you see this shift mostly with vibrant colors, such as that pink there. But other colors hardly changed at all, right?

That's because this issue is about range of color. CMYK and RGB occupy a shared range which you can see demonstrated by this graphic I got from Wikipedia.

The graphic shows the RGB ranges supported by various digital formats. SWOP CMYK is the most common range my publishers use. Note that the bounding box line shared by the RGB and SWOP CMYK formats shares about half the range space. So whatever RGB colors you use that are outside that range will be digitally converted to the smaller SWOP CMYK range.

And you may not like what you end up with.

As you can see, some of the most ethereal and intense colors get lost outside of the SWOP CMYK boundary.

A look at the Dark Horse Comics color settings in Photoshop. Theoretically, this information should prevent your art from looking like mud on publication.

Now, after I just told you the dangers of coloring in RGB then converting to CMYK for print, I tell you I am coloring Good Omens in RGB anyway. There’s a couple of reasons for this.

Remember, RGB give you a greater range of color, so it can be to your advantage to preserve your original files using a format that gives you the greatest range.

Again, here is the unaltered file.

You can see what the CMYK result will be simply by clicking the Proof Colors button here. This will show you how the art will convert.

And the Gamut Warning will show you which colors are out of gamut range for print.

The intensity of that magenta and that purple in the top right are not going to print true.

This is how it will look in final.

So even if you do what you think is perfect color on screen, there is no way it can perfectly convert to print. Almost everything will involve a little bit of compromise.

Even though you have to consider the color shift issues, preserving your files in RGB gives you greater wiggle room, especially if you get lucky someday and get to work with a printer who can print in 6 colors. Or maybe some technology you don’t know about will pop up and make printing super glorious. Who knows.

Regardless, you should keep an eye on that gamut and color for CMYK print, while preserving your master files in RGB.

Until next time.

[blissfullyunawares]

The phone rang, cutting through the quiet of the early morning. Jenna sighed and set down the papers she had been filing away. She picked up her coffee mug and made her way to the kitchen.

She almost dropped her mug when she saw the caller ID light up.

It was her sister. But why was she calling? They hadn't spoken in years. Not since Jenna ran off to live in the city and left her life on the family farm. Her stomach tightened at the thought of home.

She hesitated for a moment more and finally picked up the receiver.

"Hello?" she asked, tension creeping into her shoulders.

"Jenna? Is that you?" her sister asked quietly.

"Hey Sarah," she said, not quite sure what else to say.

"Oh Jenna! It's so good to hear your voice. Listen, I have a favor to ask you," she waited a moment for a reply, then continued, "I need you to come home."

"Come home? Why?" Jenna asked, pouring herself another cup of coffee.

"I need your help. I'm getting married!" she said.

"But I don't understand, Sarah, why do you need me to help? Mom and Caleb should be able to manage," she said quietly. All these years, and she needed me?

"I can't do this without you. We have to talk. I already bought you a train ticket. Come home."

"You know I can't," whispered Jenna, tears beginning to threaten her lashes.

"Listen, I know it's been a while, but there's a problem with the farm, and I know with your help, we can set things right. Please."

"Fine. When am I supposed to come home?"

"As soon as you can. I booked the tickets for tonight."

"One day? You realize I have a job, and a reputation to keep!"

"Jenna. This is important to more than just you."

"Yeah, I'm sure it is," Jenna sighed, "I'll be home later."

"I love you, Jen, and I can't wait to see you."

"I love you, Sarah."

click. The phone line went dead. Jenna rolled her eyes and let an aggravated sigh fill the kitchen.

Then, she called her boss and promptly informed him of the situation. She knew it would be difficult to repair the damage to her work reputation, but what choice did she have?

"When will you be back?" he asked.

"I don't know. Hopefully soon," Jenna said.

"I don't like this," he told her, "I need my assistant to be on the job, not running amuck the family farm. Hurry back, or I'll be forced to replace you. By next week."

"Yes, sir. I understand." Jenna said, defeated.

The phone call ended, and Jenna began packing a suitcase, anticipation filling her bones with a cold heaviness.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 328: Pandora’s Box of Discourse

Previously on BnHA: DEKU TOOK A BATH.

Today on BnHA: 

Also Naomasa grew a beard. Goddamn. 

please let this be a cool chapter that plays nice with my ADHD lol

(ETA: lol I feel guilty because a lot of people hated this chapter, but I’m just happy there was a lot of stuff to make fun of, and also that I have another week to work on my backlog of meta posts since the kids were MIA.)

around one month ago?? ah, okay, so we’re gonna find out what was in that Tartarus security file huh

I love that they just randomly set the place on fire

was it necessary to do this in order to escape? no. was it a good idea to set the island they were occupying on fire while they were in the midst of still occupying it? uh. was it cinematic as fuck? fuck yeah

wow it’s a pervert!!

that’s so great that the villains set loose this fine fellow who I’m sure is definitely not a serial rapist. truly the LoV is so noble and misunderstood. they’re just trying to free society from its chains people

oh my god??!

SHANKED!!! oh my god I cheered for Stain before I realized what I was doing. time to have an identity crisis I guess

so he’s all “hey what’s going on.” which, while a respectable question, is something I personally would have waited to ask until I had put a bit of distance between myself and the fiery murder island. but that’s just my personal preference

Stain you really are tenacious I’ll give you that

“what’s the point of escaping prison if you’re not gonna be smart about it” well shit. anyways yeah you’re dead right, society is in the process of collapsing and the outside world is in total chaos, good call there

oh shit

I mean it’s not like we really expecting anything otherwise, but still. fucking brutal. I feel like these guys’ fates were decided the minute that one guy called AFO “scum” back in chapter 94. AFO is unmatched at getting long-term revenge

??

ahh, was it the security footage??

fdsdfk he’s still alive??

and he’s immediately launching into an inappropriately theatrical monologue even as the darkness closes in on him fdlfksjdlk. you know, was it ever confirmed that the other guy back in chapter 297 was Seiji’s dad? I’m just saying

very impressed that he’s still coherent enough to weigh the pros and cons before making the decision to gamble on giving this info to Stain, who at the very least has his own moral code and isn’t allied with AFO. it was definitely still a risk, but as we now know it was also the right call

what a weird alliance. so Stain tells him that he’ll give it to a just person, and the guy is all,

okay for real though I’m gonna need someone to run a DNA test on this guy. maybe it was some kind of cuckold situation?? the other guy had the family resemblance, but this guy absolutely 100% raised Shishikura Seiji and you are not going to convince me otherwise

anyway, so Stain is all,

PRISON GUARD: “???? ??????? what the hell. what the fuck does that fucking mean. I’m dying here, jesus christ, whatever man fuck you”

(ETA: I kind of feel like this might have been Stain’s last appearance in the manga, given all the fanfare. there’s not really much else he can do for the story at this point, and he seems to have gotten all the character development Horikoshi was planning on giving him. so if this really is it, hasta la vista and good riddance I guess.)

DWLFDKSLDK MEANWHILE, OUTSIDE

(ETA: I feel like this is meant to be evocative of that Sermon on the Mount painting, but in a really fucked up way lol.)

if it were me stumbling upon this scene I would just shake my head and walk right back into the flaming building. not getting involved in that mess. sorry not sorry. I’ll take my chances with the fire, especially given that it’s half-assed neutered BnHA fire lol

blah blah blah and so he decided to pass the info on to All Might -- HOT DAMN, HOLY SHIT

NAOMASA HOLY SHIT. THE APOCALYPSE LOOKS GOOD ON YOU, BOY

“I really like that facial scruff thing Aizawa’s got going on, I think I’m gonna get in on that” yes sir. “also thinking of ditching the tie in favor of the bulletproof vest look. also thinking of getting totally fucking jacked.” good lord. except I’m pretty sure that’s just body armor, but also I don’t care. anyway I should probably stop staring and actually read the fucking speech bubbles here lol

“All Might first handed this information over to Nao, and then went to see Deku, and then came back to Nao” thanks for that tidy little summary Horikoshi. we are capable of piecing events together in sequential order, I just want you to know that. but thank you

“so has Deku finally gotten a bath? also, sucks that Stain saved the day, but what are you gonna do” Nao I missed you so fucking much and didn’t even realize. how am I just now realizing that you are the perfect man

for a second I was gonna ask why Tartarus’s security systems would be cut off from the outside world, and then I remembered that’s a basic security control, and then I actually got impressed by how sensible that is. like, it’s been a while since I could genuinely say that the good guys (excluding class 1-A) did something smart. not that it helped them much in the end, but still

anyway so they’re talking about how AFO was able to coordinate the attack by communicating between his horcrux self on the outside and his ugly peanut-faced self on the inside

huh

okay you have my attention. I am taking notes here lol please continue

ah okay so he says that prior to Jakku, the transfer of information between him and his Vestige self was only one-way. but post-Jakku when Deku was in the hospital, he was able to tell what was happening inside the OFA Radical Lisa Frank Dead People Book Club Realm when he touched him. I feel like we established that before, actually. but he didn’t talk about how it actually felt, though

boy we already know this lol. yes AFO can talk with his horcrux self. and he can also communicate with his little bro in OFA too, let’s talk about that sometime why don’t we. what exactly does that imply, based on the rules we’ve established here

my god I cannot get over Naomasa and his fucking facial hair

no wonder All Might was in such a hurry to leave Deku and get back here

like I have no idea what this radio waves nonsense is but my god, people

that jawline. also so it’s a quirk, I see. except last I checked Deku didn’t have a radio waves quirk, so that doesn’t really explain his connection to AFO. but whatever, hopefully we’re at least getting closer to some kind of reveal here

(ETA: since I sometimes forget that other people’s lives don’t revolve around my theory posts, here are the two relevant links if you by chance want to know my thoughts about this.

Hagakure is still The U.A. Traitor™ regardless of whether Deku is passing information on to AFO through his psychic link, which he almost certainly is.

speaking of said psychic link, Deku is a horcrux.

just posting these now, because whenever trippy OFA stuff happens I tend to get an influx of theory asks. so hopefully this will be a bit of a time saver lol.)

-- wait, what

THAT’S what the recording was??!? holy SHIT. I genuinely was not expecting that. y’all wiretapped his fucking telepathy. fucking quirks, man. wild

AND THEY USED THAT POWER TO DETERMINE WHAT WE ALREADY KNEW, HUZZAH. GOOD SHOW

-- oh shit wait lol, except I forgot we’re not talking about 38 days from the present, we’re talking about 38 days from the date the conversation was recorded. heh. um

yeah that’s the face I would make too if All Fucking Might just casually told me we had eight days left until the end times

oh, pardon me. three fucking days

r.i.p. anyone who thought we were going to have another band arc sob. I sure hope Deku is enjoying that nap

(ETA: I realize people were hoping for a longer rest period here, but given that the man warned us all the way back in chapter 306 that we were entering the final act, you can’t really blame him too much when that turns out to be true. anyway but I do recognize that we’ve reached the point in the story where this kind of discourse is going to become a weekly occurrence, simply because there’s no possible way for Horikoshi’s actual endgame to line up perfectly with the variable headcanons of millions of fans, all of whom have wildly differing and in many cases contradictory expectations which can’t possibly all be fulfilled. anyway, so I’m already bracing myself for that lol. this coming year is going to be a wild ride.)

damn, U.A. out here looking like the motherfucking United Nations

-- is this U.A.?? I actually just realized, U.A. is four interconnected buildings, not two. wait holy shit is this Shiketsu?

wait holy SHIT

based on the overwhelmingly powerful vibes of bureaucratic incompetence, I’m thinking this really is the (future) U.N., or whatever organization it is that deals with international hero stuff

“just let them handle it themselves I’m sure they’ll be fine” yeah okay, thanks guys. appreciate it

wait oh shit did he say that it’s not just Japan?

soooo, what you’re telling me is that AFO is this close to bringing about the end of not just Japan, but the entire world, and you guys don’t think it’s a good idea to help the Japanese heroes stop him? so, genuine follow-up question: are you guys already planning your rich people exodus into space a la Wall-E, and that’s why you don’t give a fuck?? like, what??

omg international heroes

these guys are from World Hoodie Mission, right? is this Horikoshi’s way of reminding me to buy tickets

(ETA: and it worked too lol.)

WHO??? WHAT???

don’t tell me you’re introducing yet another badass new female character for me to fall in love with only to watch as you dismember them and/or blow them up, Horikoshi. I’m getting tired of playing this game my dude. don’t lie and tell me this time will be different. we’re not doing this again goddammit

noooooooooooooooooooo

god fucking dammit lmao. [sighs and rips the previous paragraph into shreds]

on behalf of Americans I apologize for our superheroes always being Like This

I also apologize because I love her already and I’m gonna be shameless about it. so fucking shameless you guys

is her fucking hair red white and blue. it is, isn’t it

this is the volume cliffhanger, 100% lol. it will take every ounce of Horikoshi’s willpower not to put her on the volume cover. he’ll have to settle for the spine or the inner cover this time because Deku VS his class 1-a superpals takes precedence. but it will be a close thing let me tell you

tbh it’s that smile that does it for me. she’s definitely All Might’s protege. get out there and show them how it’s done girl. and maybe call Salaam and BRD and see if you can’t convince them to play hooky from their governments as well. why not. world’s ending in three days you guys. “sorry, I’m busy this weekend” ain’t gonna cut it lol

so while I am not fully caught up with Vigilantes, I have read far enough to know that there’s an American hero named Captain Celebrity whose superpower from what I recall is being a humongous douchebag. and while I haven’t read far enough to know what happens to this guy, I can’t say I’m very disappointed to learn that he’s no longer the number one hero in the U.S. (actually, didn’t they kick him out and that’s why he moved to Japan to begin with?). anyway, so my thanks to Horikoshi for having a marginally higher opinion of Americans than Furuhashi, even though we have definitely not done anything to warrant said opinion lately, and you may have inadvertently opened the door to a pandora’s box of discourse lmao

(ETA: lol I went into the tags and they don’t disappoint. “why is she dressed like a flag” because she’s an homage to Captain America and Major Victory and literally every other character on this list. again, I apologize for fictional American superheroes being Like This. “oh boy another thicc waifu to make the fanboys happy” look, tumblr fandom never seems to have a problem thirsting over Dabi or Tomura or Aizawa or Nao, lol, I’m just saying. “where is Captain Celebrity” idk, probably murdered by the exploding bee cartel, let’s just be grateful for our good fortune and try not to Beetlejuice the man.)

anyway, so let’s see if Horikoshi’s recent character development with regards to making Mineta not terrible anymore will apply to other aspects of his writing as well. I know I was making light of discourse just now, but I do think the complaints about him introducing yet another new character at the 11th hour to be cannon fodder in the final battle are absolutely valid. and again, it wouldn’t be a problem if he didn’t keep maiming/killing off his female characters one by one instead of developing them and letting them kick ass long-term. but that said, I will never complain about Horikoshi adding another female character to the series, regardless of how clumsy the attempt may be. go ahead and pander away, just give us more girl power lol

anyway so we’ll see how it goes, but I think I’m gonna be optimistic and let myself hope once again, even though I’m probably gonna regret it lol. it is what it is. she is standing on an airplane just chilling for fuck’s sake. I’m only human. anyway fingers crossed

[fromthedeskoftheraven]

You make it feel like Christmas

Pairing: Javier Peña x female reader

Content: Christmas celebrations, kissing, mostly-non-explicit sex (18+ only please), a swear, mention of food, the vaguest of timelines, DEA agents get to go home for the holidays because someone please give this man a break

Word count: ~2500

Note: A Secret Santa gift for the lovely @maxiarapamaya​​ for Pedro’s 12 Days of Christmas 🎄 I hope you enjoy!

Taglist: @beccaplaying​ @songsformonkeys​ @emesispo​ @yespolkadotkitty​ @flightlessangelwings​ @keeper0fthestars​ @writemessystarwars​ @bestintheparsec​ @wille-zarr​ @punkpascal​​

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

The jostle of Javier shifting in his seat beside you drags your attention from the pages of your book.

He’s arching his back, stretching broad shoulders that pull the fabric of his shirt into puckering wrinkles with the motion as he looks out the tiny window at the brilliant white clouds below. With a sigh, he slumps back into the narrow seat, hands flexing restlessly in his lap.

You reach for one of them, lacing your fingers with his. “You all right?”

“Yeah.” His thumb makes a reflexive stroke over the back of your hand. “I should have brought those files Stoddard put together before we left.”

“Javi, it’s Christmas vacation. You’re not supposed to be working.”

He tilts his head in concession. “How’s your book?”

“Forgettable.” You shrug, slipping it back into the carry-on bag by your feet. “Unlike you.”

That earns you a lopsided smile that brings his dimple out of hiding.

The near-brush of your lips with his is interrupted by a flight attendant with a brittle smile and a small plastic cup. “Your drink, sir.”

“Thanks,” he says, sitting up straighter to take it from her. She glides away down the aisle and he sips the drink, grimaces. “For what the tickets cost, you’d think they could serve better whiskey.”

You take the drink from his hand and try it, wincing as the harsh burn of the liquor stings your throat. “Well, we are a captive audience.”

Javier takes another stubborn swig. “Whoever said getting there is half the fun was full of shit.”

You can’t help but laugh at his grumbling. “You might want to practice watching your mouth, Agent Peña. There’ll be lots of little ears around at your dad’s house.”

“Don’t I know it. I hope you’re ready to be mobbed.”

“Beats drowning in paperwork and hearing again about the time Feistl almost got shot by the Jamaican,” you say mildly. “I think the bullet gets closer to his head every time he tells that story.”

He huffs out a laugh, dismissing the half-finished drink to a tray table.

You can see the shift in his thoughts as his dark eyes roam over your face to settle on your mouth with a speculative gaze. The slow, unconscious tease of his tongue at his plush lower lip is hypnotic.

A lift of his chin and his eyes go half-lidded, sultry. “Come here.”

As always, you’re a moth to flame.

It’s a restrained kiss, just a soft, lazy press of his lips that toes the line of appropriateness in public, but it’s enough to spark a tendril of warmth that unfurls like an opening flower in your chest.

Especially with the hitch in his breath when your fingertips wander to the firm muscle of his inner thigh.

Javier breaks the kiss with a knowing smirk, eyes molten with the unspoken promise of later, and a grin pulls at your lips.

“I guess the DEA’s golden boy can’t really risk being caught with his girlfriend in an airplane bathroom, huh?”

“Stechner would have a fu-- a freaking field day,” he amends at the teasing quirk of your brows. With a kiss to your temple, he leans back in his seat again, checking his watch.

You tuck your feet underneath you, turn sideways in your seat to smile at him. “I’m going to make it my mission to have you so relaxed by the end of the week you’ve forgotten Stechner exists.”

He laughs, reaching for his jacket to rummage for his pack of nicotine gum. “Do your worst, querida.”

***

Chucho Peña’s barn is as expansive as his personality, and it’s been transformed into a festive haven for Christmas Eve. Lights and decorations dress up the plain space, Javier’s aunts preside over tables groaning with food, and the music that blares through speakers blends with the buzz of conversation and children’s laughter. You sit at a table with Javier, catching your breath after a round of mingling and introductions and watching the handful of revelers who’ve taken to the impromptu dance floor in the center of the barn.

It’s...peaceful. Despite the whirl of activity around you, you’re more relaxed than you’ve been in ages, and Javier hasn’t heard the name “Escobar” all night. He’s still Laredo’s hero and probably always will be, but the novelty has lost enough of its shine that people are beginning to treat him like the boy who grew up there instead of the man who came back.

“You get enough to eat?” Javier passes you his bottle of beer. “They’re bringing out another round of pies.”

You take a sip, resisting the urge to press the dewy bottle against your warm cheek. “I’ve been eating since we got here. Nobody could go hungry with your family.”

“Wait ‘til you see the spread for lunch tomorrow,” he says, with a wry grin.

A strong hand rests on your shoulder and you turn to find your host smiling down at you, white cowboy hat like a halo in the glow of the colorful fairy lights all around.

“You two having a good time?”

“Yeah, Pops.” Javier pushes a chair out beside him. “Join us.”

Chucho shakes his head, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Came to ask the lady for a dance.”

His fatherly kindness warms you, as it has from the moment you arrived in Texas. Javier is so different from his father in so many ways, and yet you can see Chucho’s shadow in his unguarded moments of selflessness and generosity.

Handing Javier his beer back, you get to your feet with a smile. “I’d love to.”

Chucho is a patient partner, waving off your apologies when you step on his toes and finally settling into a sedate sway when your efforts to keep up with the rest of the clan prove hopeless.

Between snippets of conversation, you catch a glimpse of Javier back at the table. He’s gained new company in your absence.

Four-year-old Emilia, the daughter of a cousin whose name escapes you now, has made herself at home, elbows resting on Javier’s knees and a bedraggled Barbie doll trailing from one hand while she regales him with animated chatter.

Your heart swells at the picture. Javier’s eyebrows leap at something the little girl says, punctuated with a wave of the doll. His dimple makes an appearance even as his jaw steadily works his gum -- because, bless him, he really is trying to quit -- and he chucks her under the chin with amusement crinkling his eyes.

“He’s happy with you.” Chucho’s voice breaks into your thoughts, and you find him following your gaze. “More than I’ve ever seen him.”

“He deserves to be happy. Convincing him of that is a work in progress,” you admit.

“Sometimes I worry about him...worry he won’t leave Colombia with his soul,” he confesses, keen eyes meeting yours. “But seeing him with you gives me hope. You keep taking good care of him.”

“I will. I promise.” You squeeze his hand. “Thank you for having me here for Christmas, Chucho. You’ve made me feel like family.”

His rugged face wrinkles with a smile. “I hope it’s the first of many Christmases, mija. You’re always welcome here.”

“Can I cut in?”

Javier’s voice materializes over your shoulder, husky and warm, sending a thrill down your spine. Your stomach fills with butterflies just like it did the first time you ever saw him, and you’re struck by how effortlessly handsome he is with the tension gone from his shoulders and his lush mouth softened by a smile.

With a pat of your cheek and a clap to Javier’s back, Chucho disappears in the direction of the pie table and you drift into Javier’s arms.

“Did you get to the embarrassing childhood stories?”

“I did hear one about you and your cousins and a stolen pack of firecrackers.” You give him a teasing grin. “But I have to admit it’s hard to imagine you as a little kid. You seem like someone who just sprang into existence with a perma-frown and a nicotine problem.”

“Smartass.”

“You love it.”

He can’t stifle a smile when he leans in to kiss you, because yeah, he does.

His lips are slow to leave yours, coming back for little lingering pecks before you finally break away to nuzzle his nose with your own.

“Careful, we might scandalize your tías.”

“If they didn’t want kissing, they shouldn’t have put up mistletoe.” As if in defiance, he plants another chaste kiss on your mouth. “Besides, if I know Tía Lupe, she’s already asked you when we’re getting married.”

“The direct quote was, ‘you’re not getting any younger, honey, you want to give him babies.’ I think she and my grandmother are using the same playbook.”

He laughs, looking away across the crowd of his assembled relatives and family friends. “Told you they’d like you.”

You’re both quiet for a moment, his arms coming a little more tightly around you as you lean your head on his shoulder and breathe in the scent of him.

“I’m glad we came, Javi,” you finally say. “Thank you for bringing me.”

He presses a kiss into your hair, exhales a deep breath against you. “I’m glad you’re here.”

***

A cheery little tabletop tree casts multicolored puddles of light around the guest room in Chucho’s ranch house. 

It’s after midnight when the festivities come to a close and the various family members go their separate ways until Christmas lunch. You and Javier had walked with Chucho back to the house, where you promptly changed into pajamas, brushed your teeth, and flopped onto the comfortable bed.

Javier has stripped to his jeans, standing bare-chested in the doorway. “G'night, Pops,” he calls into the darkened house.

Chucho’s voice echoes back, “’Night,” and the shaft of light in the hallway shrinks and disappears with his bedroom door closing behind him.

Javier shuts your own door and you’re alone in the sanctuary of the cozy room. Of each other.

He’s at ease, maybe more than ever before. You see it in the lightness of his brow, the loose set of his arms, the fleeting freedom from the burdens of his job taking years off of him and enveloping you both in this temporary peace.

His jeans are slung low on his hips, their button carelessly undone, and you watch him walk to the dresser, envious of the dim lamplight that kisses the sculpted muscle of his back.

He takes something from the top drawer and comes to sit beside you on the bed. With no preamble but a lift of his brows, he hands you a small box wrapped in brightly colored paper.

“What’s this?” You let a coy smile hint at teasing him.

His mustache twitches with amusement. “Well, it is Christmas.”

“Christmas Eve,” you remind him in mock seriousness. “Santa hasn’t been here yet.”

“I can take it back if you want.”

You clutch the package to your chest, and he laughs.

“So open it.”

You do. And find, nestled in tissue paper, a bracelet of silver links interspersed with cabochons of moonstone and turquoise.

“Javi,” you whisper, touching the delicate stones.

“It was my mom’s. I, uh--” His jaw ticks to the side as he watches you take it out of the box. “I asked Pops for it. He liked the idea of you having it too.”

He doesn’t talk much about his mother, even to you, and despite his attempt at a casual air you feel the weight of the gesture.

“Javi, it’s beautiful. I’m honored to wear it.”

You slip the bracelet onto your wrist, let his stroking fingers admire it, revel in the spark of possessive pride that heats the fathomless depths of his eyes. The silver shines against the darkness of his hair when you slide your hands into it to kiss him.

“I love it,” you murmur against his mouth. “I love you. Thank you.”

His arms come around you, warm hands slipping under your tank top. Large palms flatten over your back and drift slowly to span your ribs. He lets his thumbs graze the soft underside of your breasts, so lightly he’s barely there, but the feathery contact sends desire arrowing through you, sharp and sweet, to bloom hot at your core.

He catches your needy sigh of his name with his lips, lets it drip over his tongue like honey. Greedily plunders your mouth for more as quick hands whisk the thin fabric over your head and a shift of his weight eases you down onto the bed.

Your hand trails over the smooth, golden skin of his chest, skimming the thatch of soft hair low on his belly as he pushes himself to stand, unzipping his jeans and shucking them off. At a tap of his fingers on your hip you arch off of the mattress to let him slide your sleep shorts off, and then he’s crawling back onto the bed to sit beside you. With a touch as gentle as it is firm he draws you to him, folding long legs to coax you to his lap, your thighs bracketing his in a warm press of bare skin and your arms settling around his shoulders.

“Looked so pretty tonight.” The words are muffled against your throat, laced with small, sucking kisses. “Damn near left the party to bring you back here.”

Javier is not a man for poems or flowery declarations. But it’s when you’re together like this, when his hands and lips map your tender skin and your nails bite into the muscle of his shoulders as you tremble and shatter under his touch, that his tongue is loosened in his own language of love.

When he finally fills you, wraps you in his strong arms and gives himself over to the refuge he finds in your body, it’s a steady stream of praises panted into your skin, rasped against your lips: you’re so good for him, you take him so well, you’re the only one he wants, corazón, te quiero.

I love you.

You’re his safe place, and he’s yours.

“Come with me, querida.” His gritted command pierces the haze of desperate, spiraling need and your body obeys, his name a gasp in your throat as blinding pleasure replaces the blood in your veins with fire.

He surges up once, twice, muscles tensing to steel with a sound like the breath has been punched out of him.

And then he collapses, going pliant against you, the grip of his arms slackened around your waist. His heavy breaths fan hot and damp over your neck while you hold him inside you, hands tracing idle, soothing patterns on his sweat-slicked back. Your lips find his temple, his hair, and he answers with gentle nips at the soft skin of your jawline.

Reluctantly, he separates from you, a low groan escaping him at the loss of your warmth. With the last of his energy he stretches to flick off the lamp, leaving only the muted glow of the tiny Christmas tree.

Dropping to his side on the bed, he reaches for you, tucks you close to his broad chest. His smile is lazy, sleepy-eyed with perfect relaxation as he sweeps stray strands of hair away from your face to press a kiss to your forehead.

“I’ll give you your other present in the morning,” you tease, still a little breathless.

A soft huff of laughter, and another brush of his lips, just above your brow. “Baby, I’ve got everything I need right here.”

You’re almost floating, drowsy and light, a mirror of Javier’s contentment.

He’s closed his eyes, dark lashes resting on his cheeks and the creases in his forehead smoothed as his fingers stroke gently over your hair.

“Querida,” he murmurs.

You hum in answer, slipping a foot between his.

“Maybe Tía Lupe’s got the right idea.”

If you thought you couldn’t be more in love, he’s proven you wrong.

“Maybe we should talk about it in the morning,” you whisper through a giddy smile.

The shadow of a dimple darkens his cheek with his minute nod.

You kiss his neck, nuzzling into the steady thrum of his pulse, the metronome that keeps the time of your own heart.

“Merry Christmas, Javi.”

[butternuggets-blog]

Passing Ships Prompt

~Angst/Whump~

~New Baldwin/Male OC, Miyako~

For adarafaelbarba’s birthday bingo :)

‘Well, well, well’

Baldwin looked up from the financial times as a figure loomed over him, blocking out the morning sun.

‘Martin. Couldn’t afford a ticket on the Titanic?’

Martin grinned and sat down on the deckchair beside his.

‘Didn’t want a ticket. Everyone who is anyone will be there, but I prefer the Carpathia. Less of a crowd.’

‘Hmm’

‘Speaking of..’ Martin glanced quizzically at Baldwin. ‘What are you doing here? Couldn’t you afford a ticket?’

‘They were booked out’ Baldwin kept his eyes focussed on his newspaper. Martin started grinning.

‘You did get tickets, didn’t you?’

Martin chuckled to himself.

‘What happened? Did you lose a bet?’

Baldwin said nothing. Martin cackled.

‘That’s it, isn’t it, you lost a bet! Who to?’

‘Miyako’

‘...playing?’

Baldwin bit down on his tongue and tried unsuccessfully to cram the words back down his throat.

‘...rock, paper, scissors’

Martin started howling. He was laughing so loud that some of the crowd around them began giving them strange looks.

Baldwin hit Martin across the face with his newspaper.

________________________________________________________________

Something was happening. Baldwin stood stock-still, listening intently to the sound of pounding feet and raised, muffled voices echoing down from three decks above.

Knock-KNOCK

The steward at the door was straight-faced and professional, but Baldwin could hear his heart beating wildly in his chest. A thin line of sweat was beading the edge of his scalp.

‘The captain would like to apologise for the inconvenience but all passengers must vacate their rooms and adjourn to the dining rooms immediately’

‘Is everything alright?’

‘Carpathia is functioning perfectly, sir, however there is an urgent announcement which the captain will be making presently. If you would please follow the rest of the passengers up to the dining rooms’ the young man gestured towards the end of the corridor, his fingers trembling.

Baldwin grabbed his coat and walked swiftly out the door. There was already a steady stream of confused and sleepy-eyed passengers shambling along the hallway; stewards were frog-marching around them like nervous guardsmen, occasionally knocking on various cabin doors.

Baldwin spotted a familiar face in the crowd and eased his way through, next to Martin.

‘What’s happening?’

Martin shrugged.

‘I have no idea.’

He gave Baldwin a quick pat on the shoulder.

‘I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough’

They filed into the dining rooms, keeping a hand on each others’ jacket so they didn’t get separated. The conversation bubbling around them grew more fevered as passengers questioned each other, speculating and theorizing until the rumour-mill threatened to tip into hysteria.

‘May I have you attention please! Your attention, please!’ Captain Rostron stood on the bandstand, his hands clasped in front of him, a sombre expression on his face. As the nervous chatter died down, he cleared his throat.

‘I regret to inform you all that we have received a distress signal from RMS Titanic. The ship has been struck by an iceberg-’

Baldwin’s stomach dropped to his shoes. He blinked, swaying.

...struck by an iceberg..

The shrieks and cries of the crowd around transformed into the shrill, tortured sound of ice tearing through steel. Water rushing through the gap, pouring into rooms meant to be two or three storeys above the water line. Faceless people floating in a lifeless collage of destruction.

...Miyako, wide eyes staring up at him, her blue lips parted in a question while her hair tangled up above her head...

‘Lucius’ Martin’s hand was on the crook of his left elbow, squeezing firmly. Baldwin drew a shaky breath. 

‘-and we are bound by maritime law to lend them assistance’ Captain Rostron continued, loudly, hand raised to try and placate the frantic crowd. He gestured to the stewards who had formed a line beside him to his right.

‘In anticipation of our arrival, the staff will be setting up the dining rooms as makeshift hospital wards. We ask that any personages aboard with medical knowledge, especially doctors, please volunteer your services. Those wishing to do so please go to the first class dining room, and you will be assigned a station from there.’

‘To anyone else wishing to assist us in any way, there are segmented lists of jobs in the third class dining room which you may sign up for. Meanwhile-’ he gestured towards several tables which had been pushed together along one wall. ‘-anyone wishing to serve as a lookout for survivors or to volunteer for the lifeboats will please sign up over there. With decorum, please, ladies and gentlemen.’

Miniature stampede averted, the crowd began dispersing in several different directions at once as people rushed off eagerly to volunteer. Baldwin stood rooted to the spot, panic and disbelief warring with indecision.

‘Lifeboats’ Martin muttered, squeezing his arm again.

Baldwin snapped back to reality. Lifeboats. Yes. Miyako...

He shook his head, trying to clear it. Focus. You have a job to do.

________________________________________________________________

They signed up to look for survivors when the ship eventually reached the ice field, and spent the rest of their time until then ferrying bedding back and forth between dining rooms, making hot drinks in the galley and watching out for icebergs from the observation deck.

‘She’ll be alright’ Martin said, quietly.

Baldwin shivered and pulled his coat tighter around him. It was freezing out here and he was dry; he tried not imagine what it would be like in the water.

‘She’s strong. And stubborn.’

Baldwin kept his eyes fixed on the horizon. Martin silently handed him the pair of binoculars he had brought with him.

No icebergs. For now.

The ship shuddered beneath them, picking up another knot. Every steam pipe had been turned off, and all the extra power was being diverted back into the engines.

‘Sixteen and a half.’

Martin nodded.

‘Impressive. Carpathia’s top speed is fourteen knots; I’m surprised the engines are taking the strain so well’

Baldwin wrapped the leather strap of the binoculars around his hand and squeezed them.

‘I..I just need to know that she’s safe’

________________________________________________________________

By the time the Carpathia finally reached the edge of the ice field it had been just over three hours since they had received the initial distress signal and Baldwin was about to throw up from sheer nerves.

He helped the crew raise the first of the lifeboats out of the water when the first cries for help went up. He scanned the boats’ occupants feverishly but no one matched Miyako, and the knot in his stomach grew tighter with each passing minute.

‘Gentlemen, it’s time’

Baldwin tried to stop his hands from shaking as he climbed into the lifeboat. The steward operating the crane nodded to them, and released them slowly down into the water.

‘I’ll row, and you keep watch’ Martin took up the oars and began to propel them slowly forward.

The young man clinging to his lifejacket died on the way back to the ship. So did the elderly man in the pinstripe pyjamas, and the young couple who had tied themselves together with their belts.

But a different young man survived, stuttering his thanks through chapped, blue lips. And a different elderly man, and a different young couple, and a young woman with strawberry-blonde hair wearing a long overcoat.

Shadows in the water reformed into chunks of ice and other things. Baldwin had to stop himself leaning too far out into the darkness; the boat shifted dangerously beneath them as he held up a lantern and peered around.

No black hair. Not yet.

Martin said nothing, keeping his focus on rowing and hauling survivors up out of the water. He couldn’t afford a lapse in concentration; if they overshot anyone they might expire by the time the boat got turned around, and there were still chunks of ice and other debris floating on the surface.

One such thing was floating towards them now; a wooden desk, half floating, half sinking below. Baldwin’s nose twitched at a familiar scent; a dark shadow draped across the side of the desk raised its’ head.

‘Miyako!’

‘No!’ Martin grabbed the back of Baldwin’s jacket to stop him leaping into the water. ‘We’ll make it to her, just wait!’

He hauled the oars with renewed vigour, Baldwin rocking anxiously at the prow. As the boat pulled up beside Miyako he was already leaning down, reaching out to grasp his daughter and pluck her up out of the water.

He rubbed her back and kissed her hair, trying and failing to hold back his tears of relief. Martin wrapped them both in the blanket they had brought with them and, smiling, rowed back to the Carpathia.

Miyako tried to speak but all she could manage was a hoarse, whisper-thin rattle. Baldwin shushed her, carding his fingers hair.

‘It’s alright. Daddy’s here’  

[stxrrywildflower]

intern

pairing - bau team x teen!reader

summary - you intern for garcia at the bau

warnings - mentions of case

word count - ?

note - takes place during season 7 around 2011

you knew penelope from the minute you were born.

both of your parents were extremely close, living just a few short blocks away in san francisco. penelope was only 17 when you were born, you instantly becoming her new favorite person. her mom was even named as your godmother.

when penelope’s parents had died, yours had looked after her even though she did go underground as a hacker. despite how much penelope had changed, she was always there to check up on you and your parents.

and then she had gotten caught by the fbi of all people.

you were far to young to even comprehend what was happening. all you could remember was penelope hugging you tightly before she left. the two of you kept in contact by letters ever since that day.

now 17, you were an expert with computers. penelope was your guide, helping you learn to hack everything and anything as well as your way with all technology.

adding on to that, you were incredibly smart, taking all advanced placement courses at school. one of your classes was an internship, you had to find a local company to spend a certain number of hours a week in order to earn credit.

when penelope hears the news, mostly since she had access to your course schedule, she pulled a couple strings.

before you knew it, you were booked to have an internship with the behavioral analysis unit in washington d.c. under penelope garcia. aaron hotchner would be your ‘boss’ as he was the unit chief.

your parents were incredibly supportive, working out the details for you to stay with penelope for the semester and possibly part of the summer.

with multiple bags packed and a plane ticket booked, you were set to leave for washington d.c. in just a few short days.

____

arriving at quantico, you were more than nervous.

a car was arranged to pick you up from the airport, an agent named anderson picked you up to bring you to the bau. from there, you would be able to see penelope, meet with hotch, and get your proper paperwork and badge.

you could tell from the second you stepped in that your presence was out of place. a teenager was rarely in the bau, nonetheless one few people could connect to someone on the team.

“alright this is the floor you will be working on. garcia’s office is down the hall but through those doors over there is what we call the bullpen. that’s where the main teams desks are as well as where they do briefings,” anderson spoke, giving you a mini-tour.

“and the staring?” you asked. “that will stop soon. once they see you with agent hotchner they’ll back off. as much as i want to defend your case, i can’t say i wouldn’t act the same. this is the first teenager working at the fbi ever,” anderson informed you. “oh wow, didn’t know i was making history.”

“yeah you are, and I'm sure-” he was cut off.

“penny!” you exclaimed, rushing forward to hug the tech analyst, your luggage remaining behind you.

anderson smiled to himself, waving towards garcia before heading back to work.

“i’ve missed you so much sweetie,” penelope grinned, matching your enthusiasm. you hugged her for a little longer, overjoyed to see her after months.

morgan was next in the hallway, hugging you once penelope let go. “hey kid, how are you? school okay?” he questioned, ruffling your hair. “everything’s good derek, i’m just stoked to be here,” you grinned.

the rest of the team, to say the least, was extremely confused. there were a ton of questions running through their heads as the scene played out.

“maybe it’s morgan and garcia’s secret love child,” emily snickered, spencer and j.j. laughing too.

“i can take your bags down to my lair and we can bring them to my place after work,” penelope offered. “and i can take you in to meet hotch,” morgan piped in.

you kept your backpack with you, the three of you splitting up. morgan stayed by your side, guiding you into the bullpen.

the two of you couldn’t have been in the main roof for more than a few minutes before who you assumed was hotch was down to greet you.

“welcome y/n y/l/n, it’s nice to finally meet you,” hotch greeted, extending his hand for you to shake. you took it, nodding with a “nice to meet you too sir.”

“please, call me hotch. we can talk up in my office,” with one final smile towards morgan, you were following the into chief up for your meeting.

“so how do you know garcia?” hotch first asked.

“she’s pretty much my godmother, her mom was my official one before she passed. our parents were friends so i’ve known her for most of my life,” you explained, a smile on your face. “she taught me to hack when i was only 10.”

hotch nodded, “and you’re seventeen, correct? have you committed to any colleges?”

you shook your head no. “not yet sir. i’ve been accepted to a few but haven’t made any final decision. pennelope is pushing me to go to school around here though.”

“i’m sure wherever you go will be a good fit. but now, we have to get into some of the more official stuff. how are you managing school with this inteenship?”

“my teachers moved all of my classes online with virtual lessons and work. penelope and i have already worked out a schedule so i can focus on my work here and do schoolwork at night,” you explained.

hotch was obviously satisfied with his answer so he continued, “now with your internship, we don’t expect you to work cases with us right away. it is mostly just learning under garcia. once you feel comfortable enough and get a recommendation, you can move up.”

you nodded along, taking in the information about your job. “i can take you down to get your badge and then you can meet the team,” hotch offered. “sounds perfect.”

photos and paperwork didn’t take more than twenty minutes. you were back up, a crisp new badge clipped on your jacket, soon enough.

“my team,” hotch called. “conference room.”

with his usual ‘unit chief’ tone, no one bother to argue with him. adding on to your interaction with three out of seven members, changes were obviously happening.

you were seated on top of one of the file cabinets, morgan beside you and penelope next to him. your conversation died down once more people entered the room.

both you and morgan quickly got down, wanting to look at least a little bit professional.

“everyone, i would like you to meet our newest team member, y/n y/l/n. she’ll be interning under penelope and helping out on cases,” hotch inteoduced.

you waved to everyone, a slight smile forming on your face. “from left to right is reid, prentiss, rossi, and j.j. and your already know garcia and morgan,” hotch pointed out each individual member.

“wait i’m not following. you know morgan and garcia?” rossi asked.

“my parents knew penelope’s for a long time. i grew up with penelope pretty much as an older sister. and i know morgan since he’s visited home a few times,” you explained.

the team was already eager to get to know you, having a fresh face around, nonetheless one that was only 17, would definitely be nice. so, for your first day, you were pestered with questions. you already fit well with the team, a new member being added to their little family without problem.

____

your first week was pretty much just learning the basics of how the computers in garcia’s lair actually operated. you had your own little station in one of the corners, a few computers and monitors set up for you to work with.

two weeks in, you had your first real assignment.

it wasn’t by choice, you were supposed to start working with the gory stuff in two weeks, or a month of working there.

you absolutely loved the job with the team. oftentimes, you found yourself hanging out with either emily or j.j. for dinner and time with sergio and or henry. you went on morning runs with morgan, the two of you constantly sending each other new routes to run on. spencer helped you with your homework, planning a schedule for the idea work time like it was no issue. if you ever had a problem with school, he would always help you figure it out.

rossi found a new sense of joy in teaching you to cook. you grew up in san francisco, eating a lot of sea food and not much else. rossi changed that, making you various pasta dishes to try as well as the recipient. and hotch, hotch became an overall mentor and pretty much another dad to you. while spencer helped you with work, hotch would keep you in line with everything.

the latest case was pretty intensive on you and penelope. you did as much work as you could, you still weren’t officially clear to handle crime scene information just yet.

the one time penelope was out of her office getting coffee for the two of you, her office phone had started ringing. you quickly pushed away from your desk, your chair rolling across the floor until you were in front of hers.

“office of the most talented and magical members of the bau here. how may i help you?” you greeted. “man garcia is really rubbing off on you,” you chose to ignore that comment.

“speaking of garcia, where is she?”

you sighed, “getting coffee. what do you need?” hotch was quick to answer, “i need you too look up an unsub. name is roger clark.”

in lightning speed, you clicked away at the computer as you dug up information on the man.

“ah here his is. clark rogers was born to a frank and mary rogers. was a normal child, played sports and graduated with honors. did have a case of aggravated assault in college though he got off free since his dad was a lawyer. oh shoot, his mom died a few weeks ago,” you quickly explained.

something about a possible trigger as barely audible in the background of the call. “we need a location asap,” emily spoke.

“oh i’ve has the location sent from the minute you called,” you leaned back in your chair, most of your work already done.

hotch actually had one of his rare smiles on his face after that. “thanks so much,” he spoke. “stay safe,” you called before hanging up the call.

little did you know, your work was more than helpful. though it was minimal, small details you had provided actually proved to be useful in taking down the unsub. even penelope, who heard news of everything once she returned, was thoroughly impressed. it wasn’t super easy finding out that information as fast as you could.

all you knew is that you were guaranteed a job once you graduated.

☆ ☆ ☆

tags - @tinylumpiaa @sapphicspence @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @change-the-world-someday @ah-blossom @dr-reid-ismyspiritanimal @kissessforharryyy @garcias-batcave @spenceneedsahug @jjandreidsgirl @zoseph @spencerreidxoxo @marvelxmendes @kissessfordraco @ogmilkis @cm-is-kinda-cool @ssa-morgan @matthewgublerswife @spencerslatte @babyangellee @agentshortstacc

[fleabagdiaz]

leaving home ain’t easy

madney, 2.7k, s5 speculation fic (sorta)

read on ao3

Chimney doesn’t think he’s ever been this tired in his life. Getting used to the whole dad thing has been hard enough, and now on top of it he’s pulling extra shifts to make ends meet, and staying up all night worried about his family. The sleep he does get is frequently interrupted by wordless cries, real or imagined. The only thing getting him from one day to the next is knowing that Maddie is even more tired than him. That he needs to be strong for her, and for Jee-Yun, for the family of his own that he finally managed to build. The thought of losing either of them, in any way, for any reason, is too much to bear. So he gets up in the morning and drinks two cups of coffee and kisses his beautiful daughter and aches to see the love of his life still in so much pain. He smiles as often as he can. Tries to smile enough for both of them until Maddie can again.

And he misses her. Even when she’s right in front of them, he misses her. He would do anything to take away even a fraction of her pain. Every day he tries to, and some days are better but most days are the same. So he just misses her, and loves her, and takes care of her as much as she’ll let him. Which is not as much as he’d like.

He does his best. To keep everything and everyone together and safe. To keep smiling for Jee. And he knows Maddie is doing her best too. More often than not, he feels like he’s spinning too many plates with not enough hands and something is bound to shatter. It won’t be like this forever. Things will get better. She will get better. Sometimes, though, it’s hard to remember that.

And he’s just so goddamn tired.

The day the blackout finally ends, he gets home from one of the longest shifts of his entire life practically sleepwalking through the door. All he wants is to collapse into bed next to Maddie and fall asleep to the sound of her breathing, content with the certainty that she’s safe and within arms reach.

As soon as he walks into their bedroom to see the bed pristinely made with a crisp white sheet of paper resting on the pillowcase, an alarm bell goes off in his head. Jee isn’t in her crib. Maddie is nowhere to be seen. Dread rips through his body like an icy wind.

Chimney snatches up the note. It takes him too long to read. The words seem to spin around on the page, and the pounding of his heart is so loud he can barely hear his own thoughts.

My love,

I’m so sorry. I had to leave. I couldn’t keep hurting you and our daughter by staying. You both deserve so much better than me, and I never deserved anything as good as either of you.

Please don’t try to follow me. I promise you’ll be better off without me. I’ll be safe, just somewhere else. And you can be happy.

Jee is with Anne. Tell her I’m sorry, and I’ll miss her every day. Tell her it’s for the best.

Love forever and always,

Maddie

The paper falls from his hand, and he has Athena’s number dialed before it hits the ground.

“I’m sorry, Chimney, but we can’t file a missing person’s case in this scenario unless there’s evidence of foul play,” Athena says after he breathlessly explains the note. Her voice is strained with exhaustion. With everything she’s been through in the past week, he feels terrible asking her for help. But his chest is twisted up so much he can’t breathe and his mind is twisted up so much he can’t think and he needs to do something.

“She could hurt herself, or…” The words stick in his mouth, coated with tar. Chimney swallows.  “Or worse. Athena, I can’t lose her.”

Athena sighs deeply. As exhausted as Chimney feels, he’s sure Athena is in an even worse state after everything she’s been through in the past week. “Give me a minute,” She says.

He paces around the kitchen for what seems like hours, his thoughts slipping further and further down a spiral. Every time he pulls one back up, another falls even further. He’s just about to bolt out the door and start wandering the streets of LA screaming Maddie’s name when Athena’s voice comes back through the receiver. “Bobby’s going to come pick you up and take you to the airport. You call Buck and tell him to check the train station. I’ll have my people at the station keeping an eye out for any concerning calls with someone matching her description.”

A plan. They have a plan. And he has help. He’s not alone. Chimney takes a shaky breath, “Thank you so much.”

“Well, I know how you’re feeling right now and I wouldn’t wish it upon my worst enemy.” Athena replies.

“How is Harry doing?”

“He’s safe and home. That’s about all we can ask for.”

Chimney nods, even though he knows Athena can’t hear him. “He’ll be alright. He’s a tough kid.”

“And your Maddie is the toughest woman I know. You’ll bring her home, too.”

He thanks her again and hangs up, dialing Buck’s number as soon as the call ends. If he keeps moving forward, keeps steady with this plan, then maybe he’ll get through this. Or at least get through the next few hours.

If he stops to think, he knows he’ll drown.

“Maddie did what? ” Buck cries out.

“She left. I don’t know where she went,” Chimney reiterates, passing his hand over his eyes. “So, listen, I need you to—”

“Is she okay? Is Jee okay? When did this happen?” He hears Buck’s car keys jingling in the background, like he just picked them up.

“Buck, focus. Jee is fine, no idea about Maddie. That’s why we need to go find her. Can you head to the train station?”

“Well, what about the airport? Maybe she went back to Hershey to stay with our parents or an old friend. I could go there and—”

“Just listen for a second,” Chimney snaps, then immediately regrets it. This is Buck’s sister after all. He’s loved her even longer than Chimney has. He softens his voice. “Please. I’m scared too, but we have to work together. Me and Bobby are going to the airport, you head to the train station. Can you think of anywhere else she might go?”

“Uh, I don’t know." Buck sounds a little bit like a chastised puppy. But he stays on track this time. “I’ll call Josh on my way, see if he knows anything. My parents too, I guess.”

“Thank you,” Chimney says. His phone buzzes with a text from Bobby saying he’s outside of his apartment and he rushes out the door. “I gotta go. Let me know if you hear anything at all.”

“Yeah, of course, Chim. You too.” He pauses for a moment. “We’re gonna find her, right? We have to.”

Chimney sighs, already halfway down the stairwell. “I sure fuckin’ hope so, Buck.”

He jumps into Bobby’s car without a word, and they take off towards LAX. The tension in his jaw is starting to hurt, but he can’t relax. Any thoughts of sleep have vanished from his mind, although he knows that beneath the adrenaline the exhaustion is lying in wait.

Mrs. Lee responds to his text asking when Maddie dropped Jee-Yun off. About an hour ago. Poor thing looked dead on her feet. The two of you should let me watch this little angel more often like you used to!

If Mrs. Lee knew anything about Maddie’s plan, she would’ve called. As much as Chimney would love some encouraging words from her right now, he can’t bring himself to worry her until he has to. We’ll keep that in mind. Thanks so much!

He sends a silent prayer to who-the-hell-knows that they’re not too late. If Maddie’s caught a plane or a train, he doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to find her, let alone get her back.

“I know how much you love her, Chim,” Bobby says, his voice breaking through Chimney’s spiraling thoughts. “And I hope we find her as much as anyone. But if we can’t, it’s not your fault. Sometimes people just don’t want to be found.”

Chimney wishes he knew what to say to that. Wishes he could form a response without the threat of his voice cracking.

Bobby keeps driving and Chimney watches endless monotonous buildings blur past the window. He usually likes LA. People crack jokes about the traffic and the smog and the wannabe-celebrities. Hell, he does too. But he’s lived here for most of his life, through ups and downs, through terrible losses and his wildest dreams coming true. This city has hand-delivered him the greatest family he’s ever known.

In this moment, he’s never hated LA more.

“I can’t lose her, Bobby,” Chimney finally says.  A tear spills down his cheek.

Bobby says nothing, just reaches over and places a hand on Chimney’s shoulder.

The rest of the drive goes by achingly slowly, in comfortable but heavy silence. They’ve almost reached the airport when Chimney’s phone buzzes with a text from Buck.

No sign of her at the train station. Can’t get a hold of our parents. Josh has no idea. Gonna help him call around to hospitals in the area.

The tightness in Chimney’s chest squeezes more with every word, until hospitals hits him like a semi-truck.

He can’t think about that now. He can’t. Maddie is okay. She has to be. And he’ll take her home, and get her the help she needs here, where he’s only ever a traffic-dependent number of minutes away, and he can see her every day and hold her hand and tell her how much he loves her until she finally believes it, even if he has to say it thousands of times a day for the rest of their lives.

The car hasn’t even rolled to a stop outside departures before Chimney is out the door. Bobby calls out after him something about parking but Chimney doesn’t catch it and, right now, he doesn’t really care.

When he gets inside the airport he immediately ambushes the poor, dead-eyed employee at the information desk, cutting the line of twenty protesting patrons. “When’s the next flight to Philadelphia taking off?”

A bewildered expression replacing his dead stare. He blinks at Chimney, then types something on his computer. “Uh. 30 minutes. But it’s booked.”

“Makes no difference to me. Just tell me the gate number and get me any ticket that’ll get me through security. Preferably a cheap one.”

“Sir, you can’t—”

“Listen, man. I promise you I have a good explanation. It’s a real tear-jerker of a story, too. But I really don’t have time to tell it, and it would be much easier to just sell me the ticket now and get me out of your hair.”

Five minutes later, he’s shelled out $400 for a flight to Montana that he’ll never step foot on and is schmoozing his way to the front of the security line. The words fall out of his mouth before he knows what he’s saying. My grandmother has less than a day to live, I just have to make my flight. My wife is in labor, I just have to make my flight. My kid suffered a traumatic brain injury and is finally able to play his first baseball game again, I just have to make my flight. Anything to get people to let him skip through the security line they’ve been waiting in for God knows how long. He would tell the truth, but it feels so mixed up and raw and intimate that lying comes much easier. Somehow he makes it to the front of the line and through security in less time than it usually takes him to find parking here.

And he takes off at a dead sprint through the terminal.

His heart breaks more with each step. He’s not going to make it. He has no idea if this is even the right flight. Or if she’s here at all. He’s going to lose her. Lose the best person and the best life he’s ever had. He should just let her go. It’s selfish to make her stay if it’s not what she wants.

He can’t possibly let her go. Not like this.

He runs past hundreds of people, thousands. But he knows, he knows , that none of them are Maddie. Something in him would stop him dead in his tracks. Would lead him right to her. In the blur of faces and bodies, he knows Maddie will stick out, clearer than HD.

And she does. Sitting at the otherwise empty gate for the flight to Philly with a carry-on suitcase at her feet, staring out the window at the place where the plane must have just been. Looking as beautiful as ever, but so empty and so tired that, despite the relief that floods his body, the pain in his chest remains, sharper than ever. He slows to a stop twenty feet away from the person he loves most in the world, save for the person they made together.

“Maddie.” He breathes her name, too quietly for her to hear. Disbelieving of his luck, he cautiously approaches her, like she’s a mirage that will disappear at the wrong angle.

When she finally turns and sees him, her eyes widen for a moment, her body tensing. And then her shoulders slump in defeat.

Chimney sits down in the chair next to her. What now?

“Hi,” He says simply.

He’s almost surprised when she responds. “Hi.”

“You had us worried there for a minute.” Chimney’s not sure if that’s the right thing to say. He’s not sure if there is a right thing to say.

Maddie takes a deep breath. Her eyes are puffy and red, and a tear rolls down either side of her face. “I couldn’t do it.” Chimney takes her hand in his own and nearly falls apart when she clings tightly to it. “I was trying to do the right thing. I was trying to set you free. Set you both free. But I couldn’t…” She shrugs helplessly. “I couldn’t leave.”

“Well I, for one, am damn grateful for that.” Chimney’s voice cracks halfway through the sentence. And then they’re both sobbing into each other’s shoulder in the middle of the bustling airport, and Chimney doesn’t know how it’s possible to feel so much joy and so much pain at the same time. Like at any moment his chest might burst open from the sheer force of it.

After several long minutes, Maddie’s breathing comes more evenly, and he pulls back to look her in the eye, wipes her tears with his thumb. “Let’s go home, Maddie. And in the morning, we can get you checked into that inpatient program that Dr. Bolsaro recommended. We’ll get you the help you need. Here. We need you here, and I think you need us too. It’s okay to need us.” Maddie stares at him through her tears, her expression still just as hollow. He knows she doesn’t believe him yet. But that doesn’t mean he’ll stop telling her. “We all want to help you. You’re worth every second. All of it. You’re worth everything.”

“I’m not,”  She whispers. Chimney’s already fragmented heart shatters into even smaller pieces.

“I swear to you, you are. You don’t have to believe me. You just have to stay, and let us prove it to you.” He stands, and holds out his hand. He isn’t sure if she’s going to take it. But he hopes, and he hopes, and he tries to believe that the hope will be enough.

She holds his gaze. Then turns to the window, her eyes fixed on the spot on the tarmac where the plane took off to her wretched old life. The life she thinks she still deserves. The plane she didn’t get on anyway.

And then she turns back to Chimney. And she takes his hand.

[mmimagine-40]

Pup 3

Alpha!Steve x Omega!Reader

Okay!!Yes, I know i have been gone some time! I’m sorry! School has been crazy and I haven’t been able to write or work on it has much as I would like. But here it is Pup 3!

!!Somethings to know first!: Alpha!Sheriff Sam , Betas! Wanda and Pietro. Pietro and Bucky are officers. Wanda is like an assistant , receptionist type thing at the Police station (Sorry I don’t know what to call it!). Also for just background info. In this story Pepper and Tony and lawyers. I’m not sure what I want them to be. (Alpha/omega, betas, who should be the omega or what). So please help me out what do you think?

Last thing: if you didn’t see my last post. I have a tiktok where I’ll be mainly doing some small imagines that aren't big enough to write something out of. I’ll also be doing some updates on stories / pieces I’m writing. Like talking about How Bucky and Nat (from this story) meet and small things like that. So if you interested go check it out: @mmimagines40

As Steve was moving around he caught a glimpse of Y/n. “Well look who's awake.”, Steve chuckled. Y/n laughed softly. “Yeah, my foot started to hurt.”. Steve frowned as he checked his watch. “Well , sadly pup you can’t have more meds for another hour. But let's ice it and see if that helps.”, Steve checks the food again before turning to the fridge to grab an ice pack, “Dinners close to done, so you just want to stay here?”. Y/n nodded as she started to move to the side and move a chair in front of her. While Steve went to grab a pillow she took the boot off. He helped her get her foot situated and the ice on it. Checking it over first.  “Oof , Pup. You're getting a nasty bruise.”, Steve says. Her whole foot was almost brown and yellow, with dark purple and black colors around her ankle. Y/n pouted as she looked at it. Steve looked up to see her pout, “Aw it’s okay pup, it’ll go away soon.”. He bops her nose. Causing her to giggle. Steve smiled down at her softly. He makes his way back to the food to check it. “What are you making? It smells amazing.”, Y/n asked, turning to look at him again. ‘Cajun Pasta.”, Steve answers. “It’s pasta with a heavy cream and Chicken broth sauce with chicken and sausage. (And shrimp *if you like it*). With some Cajun seasoning and some other things.”. “Mmm. Is it almost done? My mouth is watering.”, Y/n says. Steve laughs nodding. He grabs two bowels and fills them up. He sets them both down on the table and turns back to the stove. Turning it off and grabbing the bread inside. He puts the bread sticks on a plate and grabs some forks. Setting them down as well he goes back to fill two glass with water. Taking a seat he hands the other glass to Y/n. “Thanks.”, Y/n says taking a drink. Before picking up her fork and digging in. She moans at the taste. “Oh my Steve! This is so good!”. Steve’s eyes darkened as he watched her. The grip on his fork tightened as he bit his check. Excited by the sounds leaving the omega. Steve shook his head looking down. Trying to shake the thoughts out of his head. Now was not the time. 

Brock watched from just outside the property line. Far enough away to not alert the Alpha or omega in the cabin. Using a pair of binoculars he watched. Just making out some movement and the lights shining through the window. He watched , as anger boiled inside of him. Y/n was to be his omega , and his alpha took her from him. He was going to get his omega back no matter what it might coast. Brock smirked as he got an idea. He quickly grabbed his things and made his way back to town. 

Unaware of the eyes on him not to fair away. A person in the shadows. Hindan in the tree line. Making away around the woods after a report about their being hunters out there , out of season. The person watched as Brock made his way down the path to the town, before heading back to the ATV. Radioing it in. 

“This is officer Maximoff radioing in for Sheriff Wilson.”

“Sheriff Wilson speaking.”

“I got eyes on the guy you said to watch out for. He was just outside of Rogers property line. Looked like he was looking in towards the house.” 

“Is he still there?”

“No sir, he just packed up and looks to be heading back to town.”

“Okay, finish up the rout and head back into town. When you do keep an eye out for him and what he’s doing.”

 Sam sets the walkie talky down on his desk , next to the files he was looking over.  “Who even is this guy?”, Wanda asked. “All Steve told me was that this guy's father bought an omega for him. Who he has been abusing and forcing himself on. Now he’s hunting her down. Now what did you get?”, Sam explained. Wanda sighed looking down at the notes she took, “ Most everyone said they have seen him walking around. Mostly up around Steve’s property. Some say he was in some of the business asking about seeing an omega. With the description Steve gave you. As well as asking about Steve. But they say they didn’t give him much info.”. Sam nodded as he looked down at the file. On the file this guy seemed okay. Just a few speeding tickets. But those were paid off and fast. Nothing else. But then again people had their secrets. And he was involved with omega selling and abuse. As well as states abuse. Sam closed the file , handing it to Wanda.” Send all this info to Pepper.``. Wanda nodded, taking the file and heading to her desk. Starting an email to Pepper with all the info of this alpha , what Steve told them, and the info she got. The ding of the front door, made her head snap up. Her eyes widen a bit seeing the same alpha from the files walking in. Quickly she shut the files and info putting them away. And closes the email. Before the alpha walked up to her desk. She looked up at him with a fake smile. “Hello sir. How can I help you?”.  He smiles at her. “Hi there. Is the Sheriff in?”, Brock asked. Wanda nodded, “He sure is, can I ask what this is about?”. “I need help with another alpha in town. I believe he is holding my girlfriend against her will. “. Wanda nods as she types a few things on her computer before standing up. “Oh no. That sounds terrible. I'm sorry. I go see if he can see you.”, Wanda pouts acting like she cared. Brock gave her a sad smile like he was really hurting and sad. But Wanda could see right through him. Knowing he’s lying and faking this act. She makes her way back to Sam’s office. She looks back as she walks in. Making sure he is still standing there. Sam looks up at her as she walks in. Watching her close the door , while looking into the lobby. “He’s here.”, Wanda says looking towards Sam. “Saying that an alpha he's holding his girlfriend against her will.”. Sam nods as he stands up. “Okay, tell him I’ll be with him in just a minute.”, Sam says, pulling his phone out and dialing Steve. Wanda nods , making her way out. She smiles as she sees Brock look up towards her. As she walks back into the waiting area. “He’s finishing with some paperwork and will be out shortly. In the meantime have a seat. Would you like something to drink? Cup of coffee?”, she asked, overly friendly. Brock shook his head as he took a seat waiting. Wanda's smile dropped as she watched him. He hung his head down. Really playing off the sad alpha look. But reeked of anger. 

“Wow, that was really good Steve.”, Y/n says handing him her bowel. Steve smiled down at her. Taking the dishes to the sink. “Thank you. It’s rare that I get to cook for someone else.”.  “You never cook or have get-togethers with your friends?”, Y/n asked. As she removed the ice pack and looked over her ankle. Steve chuckles. “We do get togethers. But Nat usually cooks. She enjoys cooking and hosting them. Even if any of us try to talk her out of it , she won’t listen and will cook a feast. Bucky said it’s something about a mated omega. Apparently they enjoy the hosting and cooking for a group of people.”, Steve says as he cleans the dishes. Y/n laughed softly. “Reminds me of my mother. She was also like that. Loved to cook a huge feast for when my dad had his business parties. She loved hosting them. I never understood it. Especially since she and I were forced to do these things as we are omegas. She once told me it wasn’t about the work. It was the compliments. To know everyone was enjoying her hard work.”. Steve humbled as he turned back to her , drying his hands. “I never thought of it that way but it makes sense. Nat always does have a beaming to her when we complain about her work. And Bucky he gets a proudness to him.”. Y/n turns to look at Steve as she finishes putting her boot back on . “Really?”, She asked. Steve nods. “Alpha’s have these strong feelings to make their omegas happy. To see them loved and full of happiness. ...Well that's how true mates are.”, Steve says. Y/n laughs , shaking her head. Steve smiles watching her , “what do you not believe in true mates?”. Y/n shakes her head no as she looks up at him. “No, seeing what I have growing up. No , not really.”. Steve shrugs as he pushes off the counter walking towards the table. “I get it. I used to not believe it too. My ma used to tell me all those fairy tales about true mates. But seeing how my father treated her and me. I didn’t believe it. “. Y/n’s eyebrow’s crunch together as she looks at him. Watching his movements. “What changed your mind?”, She asked. “Nat and Bucky. You see we both met Nat at college. She asked us where some of the classes were. As she walked away. Bucky couldn’t take his eyes off of her. Watching her walk away. He then turned to me and said that one day she would be his mate. I thought he was crazy till I saw how they acted around each other. Then it clicked. Everything my ma use to tell in those stories unfolded in front of my eyes.  Made me a believer.”, Steve explains making his way to her. “But how did you know?”, Y/n asked. “I didn’t at first. I thought it was just young love. Till I talked to the both of them separate. They both talked about how being around each other was like nothing else. One touch left their hearts beating so fast. How they got tingles and this gushy, warm feeling from just one little touch. How the others smelled, smelled of home. A warm , loving feeling.”, Steve moves the chair that he leg was on. He stands in front of her holding a hand out. Y/n looked up at him in awe. Thinking over his words , as she takes his hand. As he helps her stand his scent hits her. The scent that makes her feel warm and safe. Hitting her. That those things he spoke of is how she felt towards him. But surely not. They weren’t meant to mate. Although she did have that dream. That dream that left her longing for those things. To be Steve’s. Waking up next to him. In his arms , surrounded by their mixed scents. Carrying his children. Something Y/n use to not want. She didn’t want to bring children into this world of horrible alphas. But Steve has changed her mind in just a few days. Is it possible? Could he really be her true mate? 

“Pup?....hello? Pup?...did you hear me?”, Steve asked waving a hand in front of her. Y/n shakes her head of the thoughts, “sorry , this true mate's talk just has me remembering home. Well not home my mom. She too told me of those stories. It was the only time of  the day I really enjoyed. Sorry , i just miss her.”, Y/n says looking down. Steve’s face falls as he looks at her. Understanding her. “It’s okay, pup. Even if I didn’t believe the stories they were a time of joy for me too. When my father was asleep. Passed out, not bugging us. A time of peace between me and my ma.”. Steve grabs her chin making her look at him. He cups her check. Rubbing her check, soothing her. Y/n gives him a small smile. As she closes her eyes and leans into his touch. Letting the soothing movement and the warmth from him , calm her down. “Thank you , Steve.”, Y/n finally says as she opens her eyes looking at him. Steve smiles , “for what?”. Y/n lightly chucks as she smiles more, “For being you.”. “Well , I don’t know how to do anything else. Now, while you were in memories lane. I asked if you would like to continue ‘The Office’, while we get your room all set up and the stuff put away.”. Y/n nods yes. “Okay , come on then.”, He helps her up the stairs and into the room. Where they get all the bags from Nat's shopping , and puts them on the bed. Sorting them. “Here these are all for the bathroom. While you get those put up and how you like. I’ll get  the show on.”, Steve says handing Y/n the bags. Y/n grabs them making her way to the bathroom. She closes the door. She smiles as she pulls the stuff out of the bag. Needing to thank Nat for everything. 

Steve sighed as he fell on to the bed. Grabbing the remote to turn on The Office. As he gets it set up to play , he feels his phone start to ring in his pocket. He pulls it out seeing it's Sam. Looking back up to see the bathroom door still closed. Steve stands up as he answers the phone call. “Hey Sam, what’s up?”. “Red Star.”, Sam says. Steve's jaw clenched as anger started to take over him. “Where is he now?”, Steve says through a clenched jaw. “At the station. Wanda said that he came in asking for me. Saying he thinks an alpha in town is holding his girlfriend against her will. I don’t know much more. I haven’t talked to him. What do you want to do?”, Sam asked. Steve sighed thinking of a plan. His mind was running all over everything that's happened thinking. But stops on one thing. The fake claim mark. “Okay i got it. I gave Y/n a fake claim mark. So what we will do is, you do your sheriff stuff. Bring him out here whatever. We will just have to pretend that I claimed her already.”. “Okay I’ll bring Pietro and See if Bucky can come along too in case he gets out of hand.”. Steve falls back onto the bed , “okay good thinking. I better warn her first , so she doesn’t freak on us.”. “Okay , I’ll try to delay him as much as I can.”, Sam says before hanging up. 

Steve sighed as he threw his phone to the side. Hoping this works. But he has to convince Y/n. He’ll need her to be calm and ready to face him. To make it look real. Cause if not, Brock could go to State troopers about him before they can get Tony and Peppers help with this first. The sound of the door opening , makes Steve snap his head up to look towards Y/n. As she walked out of the bathroom. “Hey , Pup.  We need to talk?”, Steve says looking down at his hands. Y/n forward softly as she walked closer to him. “What’s wrong Stevie?”, She asked. Steve Smiled softly at the nickname. But it quickly fell as he thought over how to word what he was about to say. He looks up at her. Looking over her face. He took her hand , just in case she flips or something. “I haven’t been completely honest with you. Going behind your back. But I promise , I only had the best intentions…..I have a friend who's a lawyer. Him and his wife work on cases like yours. Helping omegas and...well really anyone in abusive situations. I asked my bubby , also the sheriff, If he could look into Brock and send all the info of him and what you told me to Pepper and Tony. So they can help you. Fully get Brock away from you.”, Steve starts explaining. Y/n looks down taking a deep breath. Trying to process everything he just told her. She did feel hurt that he did this behind her back. But a part of her knew that there was no way if he didn’t , he wouldn’t have gotten Y/n to open up to someone else to get help. And she guessed Steve knew that too. But it still hurt. She was starting to trust Steve. She wishes he would have just told her. But what was getting her was she opened up to him. Told him what happened to her. Something she’s never done. She hasn’t told anyone. Now 3 or even more people will know. Which she knows if this goes now more will know. She doesn’t want to look for sympathy or look like she was broken. Steve squeezed her hand. Nervous at her silence. “I’m sorry Pup. I know you were starting to trust me and I went behind your back and told your story to others. But I promise it’s for the good. They will get you help.”. “It’s not that. I don’t doubt your intentions or theirs. As I have seen you have good friends. People who are like you. Have big hearts and want to help. I know that with them and you I’ll get help. But this means more and more people know my life growing up. What happened to me. It’s just I’m …..I just don’t want to keep reliving it. I just want to be done with it. And how a normal life.”, Y/n says as she wipes her face as tears start to run down her face. Steve pulls Y/n closer to him. Making her fall onto his lap. Where he wrapped his arms around her holding her close. “I promise pup, you won’t. Not for ever at least. The most I know of. I’ll have to retell everything to Pepper and Tony so they can get a case going. Then depending on how fair it goes you might have to testify. Which means retelling it again and then answering questions about what happened. But after that I promise you don’t have to talk about it ever again. I’ll make sure of it too. Make sure that no one will ever make you talk about it. Okay ,pup?”, Steve pulls back to look at her face. He reaches a hand up wiping her tear stained face. Y/n nods , closing her eyes. Thinking it all over. Steve gives her a few seconds. “Pup, i wasn't going to tell you all of this yet. I was waiting to see what pepper suggested. But something happened. So i need to tell you to warn you and start helping to prepare you for facing Brock.”. Y/n pulled back, eyebrows scrunched. Looking at Steve. “What? What's going on?”. Steve sighed looking down for a sec thinking , before looking back to Y/n. “I just got a phone call from my buddy at the sheriff station , Sam. He informed me that Brock showed up to the station. Asking for Sam. Saying that he believes that an Alpha is holding his girlfriend against her will. I don’t know what else he’s going to string together , telling Sam. But as sheriff and part of Alpha/Omega laws, Sam has to bring him to where he asks and check it out. Making sure an alpha in fact did not hold an omega hostage and mate them against their wishes. So , I’m going to need you to be strong. You’ll need to face him and make him believe I mated you. And you consented to it.”, Steve explains. Watching her face closely to see how she is taking everything. “But we aren’t mated.”. “The fake bond will fool him. I’ll just have to mark it again to it smell like an actual bond.”, Steve moves her hair. Running his fingers over her neck. Where the fake bond is, slowly fading. Y/n nods understanding, “what if he doesn’t buy it or sees through it?”. “We will just have to convince him. Alpha/Omega laws are huge. So he could go to State Troopers about it. Which will lead to more trouble and make it harder for Tony and Pepper. But with the mark and witness of me , you and Sam. We could all testify against him if he does. That Sam has already checked it out and We are in fact mated. And we both consented to it. But you are going to have to be brave and face him. Saying it to his face that you mated with me. Okay, pup? You think you can do that?”, Steve says. y/n Looked away from him thinking about it. Facing Brock. Something she was so scared of. But if she wanted to be gone from him for good she knew she had to do it. Pulse Steve would be by her side the whole time. Something about being with him made her feel stronger and braver. Y/n turned back to him. Nodding in agreeing. Steve smiles at her. “Okay, good. Now first things first. We need to redo your mark.”. Y/n nodded as she moved her hair and leaned her head to the side a bit for Steve to have better access. Just like last time. Steve was a bit slow. Not wanting to rush and hurt or scare Y/n. He left light kisses around and on the mark. Before letting his teeth lightly sink in. This time Y/n wasn’t able to hold back as small whimpers left her lips. Wanting him to actually bite down. Claim her. After he then again left small, light kisses to the bite. Before pulling back. Y/n looked away from Steve. Not wanting to face him. As her face was already somewhat red. ‘There Pup. Now it seems you are mated.” Steve says trying to get her to look at him. He frowns at first thinking he did something wrong. Till he noticed the long her looked at her the more red her face got. He opens his mouth to say something which is interrupted by the sound of knocking at the door. Y/n’s head then snapped back to finally look at him. Steve looked at her , “Okay Pup. Show time. You got this okay. I’ll be standing next to you the whole time. Ready to jump in at any time if anything happens, okay?”. Y/n nods getting up. Steve takes her hand as he stands up. Leading her downstairs. He stops in the living room. “Wait here till I call you okay?”, Steve says. Y/n nods giving his hand one last squeeze as he pulls away towards the door. Y/n stands by the Stairs. Biting her nails nervous. Waiting and listening closely to what was going on. 

Steve took a deep breath as he reached the door. Before opening the door. Putting on the act. “Sheriff, Hi. How can I help you?”, Steve smiles at Sam. Trying to keep calm as his eyes move over to the Alpha standing next. Brock. The same guy he saw the other day in the forest. “Hey, Steve. Sorry to bug you this late but this guy came into the station. Saying he was out here the other day looking for his girlfriend after she ran away. And he ran into you and you told him you haven't seen her then asked him to leave. Well he thinks you where lying and are holding his girlfriend here against her will.”, Sam explains. Steve's eyebrows raise in surprise. “What? Come on Sam , you know I would never do something like that.”, Steve says. Sam sharks his head ,”I know but you know the laws make me have to question and check it out no matter what. Now tell me what happened that day?”. “I was out cutting some wood. When I heard someone running around. Thinking it was a hunter on my land. I went to check it out and found this guy. I just informed him it was private property and I was sorry to hear about his girlfriend. But asked him to leave.”, Steve explains. “Was that a lie? Did you see a girl he was talking about?” sam asked, taking notes. Steve nods , “Yes , I saw her. But not till after I had asked him to leave. I found her on my way back , injured. She sprained her ankle tripping over a tree root. I brought her back here to help her. I didn’t know at the time she was the girl he was talking about. Till after she told me what she was doing out in the woods alone.”. Sam nods as he writes it all down. “Is she here now?”, He asks looking back up at Steve. Steve Signs looking down. Looking as if he was hurting and not wanting to say. He sighed one more time as he looked up. He looked towards Brock. Meeting his hard eyes as he stared back. Before turning back to Sam. “Yes..Yes she is. She’s….She’s my mate now.”. “WHAT?! YOUR MATE?!IT”S ONLY BEEN A DAY AND YOU FORCED YOURSELF ON HER?!”, Brock started yelling. Keeping the play up that Y/n was his and he was scared for her well being. But really , Steve could see it was anger that he beat him to mating her. Sam grabs him by the arm pulling him back. “Now you stop right there! I’m the sheriff! I’ll be the one asking questions and getting down to the info here! If you don’t like that then you can go wait by the car.”, Sam says growling as he pushes Brock back. Brock just huffs nodding as he backs up. Sam then turns back to Steve, “Could you please ask this young lady to come here , so I can ask her some questions?”. Steve nodded as his eyes stayed on Brock. Watching him with an angered look. “Pup, Can you come here for a second?”, Steve calls into the cabin. 

Y/n took a deep breath. Calming her nervousness. Knowing that Brock will be able to smell her emotions. She just hoped that Steve’s scent on her would distract him from it though. She takes one more breath as she makes her way to the door. “Hhmm” She says walking up next to Steve. He wrapped an arm around her waist. “This is Sheriff Sam, He wants to ask you some questions.”, Steve says. Y/n turned to the man in front of them. Trying not to let her eye wander over to the man next to him. She actually felt relaxed as she met Sam's eyes. His eyes and smile were soft. Especially for an alpha. He seems so sweet and nice. “Evening Ma’am. I just have a few questions to ask if you don’t mind.”, Sam says sticking his hand out to shake her hand. Y/n nodded, shaking his hand. “Okay.”. “Okay firstly, you are Y/n L/N right?”, He asked.

“Yes sir.”

“Okay , can you tell me , do you know this man?” Sam points to Brock. Y/n sighed shaking her head. Steve pulled her closer to him. As he watched Brock's breathing pick up noticing the mark on her neck. Sam nodded , “Can I ask what your relationship is with this man?”. “Nothing, he has been chasing after me wanting to mate me. But I didn’t want to.”, Y/n says taking a quick glance at him.  “Okay and can you explain to me what happened that led you into the woods and meet Mr. Rogers.”, Sam says. Y/n nodded looking down quickly before looking back at him. “We got into a fight about the mating thing. He tried to force himself on to me and tried to mate me.  I was able to get away from him and ran away. But he was following me. So I ran into the forest thinking I could get away from him. But he followed after me. I ended up tripping and hurting my ankle. While I was sitting on the ground, not being able to walk. Steve found me. He helped me up and into his cabin. Asking what happened.”, Y/n explains to Sam. Sam nods writing what she told him down. “You Bitch! In Thanks you let him fuck you and mark you!”,Brock yelled trying to step closer. But Sam wiped around putting his hand on his chest. Pushing him back, “Mr. Rumblow this is your last warning!”. Brock huffs pushing Sam's hand off of him. Y/n jumps do to the yelling. Causing Steve to wrap both his arms around her and hold her closer. She puts her head in his neck not wanting to see Brock anymore. Sam sighed as he turned back to Y/n and Steve. “I’m sorry about that. I know this is a touchy subject but can I ask how this mating came across.”, Sam asked. Y/n looked up at Steve , not knowing what to say. Steve looked at her too. Before looking back to Sam . “It was an accidental mate.”.  Something popped up in Y/n’s mind. She just praid that Sam understood it or knew what it was. “Partialis Calor.”. Sam looked at her for a bit , before nodding in understanding. “And what? She’s making shit up now. He probably forced her to make some stupid shit up like that.”, Brock says turning to Sam. Sam kept looking at her impressed. “No she’s not. A partialis calor is something that happens between true mates.”, Sam says turning to Brock.  “It's a heat/rut type thing that takes over an Alpha and Omega when they meet their true mate. And most end up like these two. Alphas will have this other power to mate their omega.”, Sam explains.  “So see he forced that mark on her! Are you going to do anything about it!”, Brock started yelling again getting in Sam's face. “No! Miss . L/n and Mr. Rogers has made it clear that their mating was conditional. Even if it was accidental , they are both fine and happy being mated together.”, Sam says trying to push Brock away. “This is bullshit! Your mine Y/n! You know who your true alpha is!”, Brock keeps trying to push Sam away and get closer to them. Something snapped in Y/n. She finally turned to fully look at the alpha. “My true alpha is Steve. Even though I may have just met him , we have more of a connection then you and I ever did. He makes me feel things you never could. In every way possible.”, Y/n snapped at him. Steve smirked not only proud of her but also at what she was implying. Brock's eyes widen and fill with pure agner. “YOU FUCKING BITCH!” He pushed Sam down the steps of the deck and away from him. Reaching behind his back. Pulling out a gun. He raises it to her face. Steve was quick to pull her behind him. “Even better!”, Brock says. Before he could do anything , he heard the sounds of guns cockling all around him.  He looked around seeing Sam behind him pointing a gun at him and Two other large guys on either side of him , holding shotguns. One an alpha and another a beta. “Put the gun down, or not I don’t mind putting a hole through you.”, The dark haired alpha says. Brock turned to look at Sam , ‘You set me up.”. Sam shrugged. “I wouldn’t call it a set up. Just safety procedures. You reeked of anger and dominance when you walked into the station. Those two things usually never mix well and end good for alphas like you. Now put the gun down!” ,Sam says staying calm. Brock looked back to Steve. Staring him down as he dropped the gun. Raising his hands in surrender. Dropping slowly to his knees. Bucket reached over kicking the gun away. Before they lowered their weapons. Sam walked up behind the alpha and cuffed him. “Pietro, read him his rights then take him back to the station. Throwing him in a cell. “, Sam says. Pietro nods, taking the alpha towards the car. Steve turned around to face Y/n. “You okay , pup.”, he asked. Y/n nodded as she threw her arms around Steve pulling him into a hug.  Steve wrapped his arms around her. Pulling her close. So close he was lifting her up to where she was on her tiptoes. “You're okay , pup.” , he whispers in her hair. “Y/n? You okay?”, A voice asked. Y/n and  Steve pulled away and turned back to Sam and Bucky. “Yes, I’m fine. Just a little shaken up .”, She says. “I’m sorry, Y/n. I had no idea he had a gun.”, Sam says looking like he really was truthfully sorry. “It’s okay, it’s a good thing you thought beforehand to bring back up.”. Sam’s attention was brought to his phone as it buzzed. “That’s Wanda she said she emailed Pepper and she got back to her fast. She and Tony will be out here in a couple days to see and talk to Y/n. I’ll email her this report and what happened tonight.”. Steve nodded , “Thank you Both of you I owe you two.”. “It’s nothing. You would have done the same.”, Bucky says. “Now enough chick chat. You two get some rest. This add on to everything else is going to be a long and tiring process once Tony gets here.”, Sam explains looking back and forth to Steve and y/n. Mainly watching Y/n to ensure she is okay. They both nod in understanding. They all say their goodbye. Steve and Y/n watch from the door as Sam and Bucky leave following Pietro. Down the road to Town.

------- TAGS-----------

Pup: 

@woodworthti666    @chrisevanisliterallysir   @sukeraa   @bxnnywriting            

@cuddlebuddydraco   @tnysmalls   @tenaciousperfectionunknown

@wonderlandfandomkingdom    @animegirlgeeky   @gryffindorqueensworld

 @loveisgayandmy    @waywardwifey       @supernaturallover2002

ABO:

@physically-a-cheesecake

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

So I have basically no school next week , so I’m going to try and work on this story. I’m thinking it might be only a couple more parts! But I honestly don’t know yet. Again if you want updates or small imagines check out my tiktok. Also if you like MHA i have another tiktok (@babybird_40) where I have posted some small imagines about some of the characters. Right now it’s just Hawks. But depending how it does I’ll be adding more and others. - MM

[coffeecakefanfics]

Rocky Mountain Skies

So I live in the 719 (CO) and I have been DYING to write about it so here’s this hot ass mess Also it’s my first multipart story on tumblr so bear with me (I’ll do a part two because omg) 

Christmas is a magical time of year where families get together and revisit the political opinions of the past month but turn around and gift each other things. For the (L/N) family it was no different. 

(Y/n) waltzed through the bullpen, coffee in one hand, phone in the other.  

“Yes mom I’ll be home for Christmas,” she set her things down and sat at her desk, “No mom I already requested the two weeks off, I’ll be fine,” her sigh caught a few peoples attentions.

“Mom seriously, I get into Denver Sunday at 11, papa already said he’d come pick me up. . .  yes mom I know how old he is but you don’t have time remember, besides it’ll be nice to see him. . . Mom I gotta go I have a meet- yes mom I’ll let you know when I get to the airport. . . Mom I have to go byeee” She clicked her phone and leaned back, letting out a long groan. 

“Mom troubles?” Derek smirked.

“You have NO idea, I love her but she needs to chill,” she smiled. 

“Well I think it’s sweet,” he toys.

“Of course you do, go to work,” she shook her head teasingly. 

“All right, all right,” he laughed and walked off. (Y/n) stayed seated at her desk for a majority of the day, skipping lunch to finish files.  People stopped by to make small talk while she worked, which she happily sat through.  As the day continued on people started packing up their things to head home.  It was quiet, the only people left were (Y/n), Spencer, JJ, and Hotch.  

(Y/n) Stretched, popping her back, before getting up and walking around the desks.  She set her hand on a chair and spun it so the messy haired man was facing her. She smiled at him brightly.

“Hey Spence”

“Hi, uh, is something wrong?”

“No I just wanted to talk to you is all,” she sat on his desk.

“About?” he looked at her curiously.  He watched the way her hair set on her shoulders and framed her face, the way her waist dipped and hips bulged slightly, the way her thighs squished when she sat. He forced his eyes beack up to her and felt his face go a little warm.

“You know in the past three years I’ve been here I don’t think I’ve seen you take a vacation, and it’s none of my business if you save it or whatever but I was curious, why?” her face twisted in thought.  He sat for a second and thought. 

“Well I mean I go “home” occasionally, but I guess I’ve just never had a desire to go anywhere,” he shrugged, “I mean all we do is travel for work so I guess it never really crossed my mind” he smiled at her. 

“Well, I uh, look I have an extra plane ticket back home. My ex was supposed to go with me but we broke things off a few months ago.  So I guess I’m trying to say if you want to, you could come with me.  I mean you totally dont have to and I mean-” 

“To Colorado?” he quirked his eyebrow.

“I mean, yes? but only if you want to, I mean you’re my best friend, and closest one so I figured I’d ask before getting a refund,” she twisted her foot into the ground.

“Do I get a cowboy hat?”

She looked up surprised and laughed, “Duh”

“Then I’ll go”

The two weaved through the airport traffic.  The building was loud and crowded and both were getting antsy.  (Y/n) clutched her bag tight as they maneuvered through the crowds of people.  Finally making it outside, the cold mountain air bit at their skin. A old man stood at the end of a row of cars holding a huge sign 

‘(Y/N) (L/N)’ written in huge letters decorated the sign. 

“Papa!” she cried and dropped her bags, getting swallowed into a hug that itself felt like home.  Spencer stood awkwardly by watching the two.  

“Where are my manners, My Name is Jim (L/N) but you can call me Papa.  You must be Spencer?” The man, Jim introduced himself.  He was only about 5′10″ and was clad in a red and white pearl snap with stained coveralls over top.  His face was covered mostly by a long Beard and Mustache and he had a pair of glasses perched on top of his head. 

“Oh, uh yes sir I’m Spencer,” He smiled at the man who held his hand out.  Spencer shook it gladly. 

“Well we need to get you kids home. Granny is making soup for dinner,” he bent down and picked up (Y/n)’s bag and rolled it to a old pick up truck, may be ten years old Spencer guessed. He stared at the backseat for a second, his stomach turned, maybe this wasn’t the best idea, maybe he shouldn’t have came, I mean I’m being so awkward an- 

“Spence what are you waiting for?, hop in,” (Y/n) called from the back seat.  He blinked a few times at her before jumping in and closing the door. She leaned over to him, “I didn’t want you to be alone back here,” she pulled back and smiled. 

“Thank you,” he breathed a sigh of relief.  As close as they were he had never met her family.  He had spent countless nights sitting on her couch easting Chinese food while they finished files or watched bad movies but he still felt nervous being around her like this. 

“So Spencer, where are you from?”

“I’m from Vegas,” he replied meekly.

“A gambler huh?” The old man grinned at him in the rear view, “you any good?” 

Spencer laughed and shook his head, “I guess we’ll have to see,” he teased back.  Jim laughed and smiled at his granddaughter. 

“i like this one”

“You like him just because you’re bad at Texas Hold em” she playfully rolled her eyes.

“Hey whatever gets the money,” he laughed again.  It was a laugh that filled you with joy.  Spencer finally understood where (Y/n) got hers from.  

“So Spencer, I know a feller like you can’t be single, so do you have a lady back in D.C.?”

“PAPA!” (Y/n) shrieked, “Don’t go running him off already, good god” she shook her head.

“What I’m curious, he’s a handsome man,” Jim grinned. Spencer was full on burning at this point. 

“No sir, I’m single,” He almost mumbled out.

“You know who else is single. (Y/n),” Jim wiggled his eyebrows. (Y/n) glowed the same red that the poor man next to her did.

“Papa oh good god.  Stick to breaking horses not my love life, and besides you’re gonna make him regret coming here before he even sees the ranch,” she rolled her eyes.  Spencer actually laughed.  The two of them were obviously close, it was . . . nice.  It was a nice break from what they deal with every day.  

The rest of the car ride went by semi fast, (Y/n) explained all of her plans for the two of them while they were here.  She was almost glowing with excitement. The wooden fence that stretched along the property line came into view as the truck began up the drive.  A gorgeous two story log cabin came into view behind a row of evergreens.  The wood was a beautiful light brown, and towered over the yard.   A old lady was standing on the porch dressed in a fleece nightgown and brown slippers.  She waved as the truck stopped.  The group jumped out and began grabbing bags. 

“There’s my baby girl,” the woman hugged (Y/n) tightly.  She had her same eyes.  The woman stood maybe 5′2′ and had a pink and white fleeced nightgown on.  Her grey hair fell in neat curls down her back.  Her face was wrinkled and warm, the kind that you know showed so much joy in her younger years. 

“And this must be Spencer, You’re even more handsome in person,” she cood at him. 

“grandma!” 

“It’s alright. Yes ma’am I’m Spencer,” he smiled at her, “It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” he grinned. 

“Oh where are my manners, lets get you babies inside and warm,” she ushered everyone in.  “(Y/n) baby your room is all set up, but um there’s been a change of plans,” The lady frowned. 

“What Dawn is trying to say is that your mom and your stepdad are staying in the last guest room, and your cousin Rita is in the other”

“WHAT!” (Y/n) yelled. “Mom said her the Stepdouch were staying home for Christmas! I was promised to get you two to myself. And Rita!” she was fuming. Spencer set his hand on her shoulder, trying to bring her back to earth.

“We know baby but she insisted that you wouldn’t go see her if she stayed,”

“Of course not, not after what she did!”

“And Rita is your cousin, at least try to play nice,” Jim begged. 

“No, Not after what they did!” (Y/n) was breathing ragged, anger radiating off of her body. 

“Hey, uh why don’t you help me to my room?” Spencer forced her to look at him.  She sighed and grabbed her bag.

“Okay” she grabbed his hand and began through the living room up the stairs.  Spencer admired the “family” room on the balcony overlooking the living room. (Y/n) led him around the bend and over to the room. She popped the door open and let him inside. She followed and closed the door after her. 

“So since my cousin Rita took the guest room we’ll have to share this one, I’m really sorry. I have an air mattress that I can sleep on and you can have the bed. This isn’t how I wanted this to go, I’m sorry,” she spoke almost in tears.

“Hey you didn’t know and I’m kicking you out of your bed, I’ll sleep on the air mattress, besides we can always still do everything you planned. We’ll be okay,” he smiled and held her face.  She let a tear fall. 

“I know but this was supposed to be a fun trip for you,”

“It will be, what’s more fun than two weeks without work,” he smiled and pushed her hair behind her ear. 

“It’s only like one, so would you show me the property?” he smiled.

“Sure, but we need to get you a new wardrobe,” she laughed. 

“Hey what’s wrong with my clothes?” he spun for her. 

“Well for starters you’re in loafers and there’s snow on the ground, and second I do owe you a cowboy hat,” she grinned. “Come on lets play dress up”

The two of them sat in the attic surrounded by boxes of old clothes.  She held up a nice quilt lined coat, identical to the light brown one she had on. 

“That should fit, he was about your size,” she smiled and handed him the coat. 

“Who?” he asked and examined the inside of the coat when it stared him right in the face. 

‘Merry christmas daddy, (Y/n)’ stitched on the tag.  his heart stopped.

“(Y/n) I can’t accept these, these meant the world to you I-”

“Spencer please, I’d rather you have daddy’s stuff than any of those other brats,” she sneered. “It’s the only other thing I got from him when he passed.  He would’ve liked you,” she smiled and pulled a bunch of pearl snaps out.  Spencer's heart leapt.  We slid the Carhart on, it sat nicely against his body.  She looked up from the boxes. 

“Whoa” she gasped. “Spencer you look, just wow” she grinned. 

“Wait I have one more thing,” she rushed off to the back of the attic.  She returned with a box wrapped in red wrapping paper she smiled and handed it to him.  He pulled the top of the box off.  Inside sat a nice dark brown felt hat with a brown leather strap around it.  It was adorned with a small gun charm on the leather strap. 

“(Y/n) this is, this is way too much,” he looked up at her.

“I bought it for you last year, I remember you saying you wanted to be a cowboy so I figured I’d buy it but I forgot it last time so there,” she beamed at him.

“Well, try it on,” she ushered  He set the hat on his head, a perfect fit.  

“Well?” he spun

“You look like a true cowboy Spence,” 

They walked the property talking for hours.  The air grew cold and bit at their cheeks. 

“Hey do you want to see my favorite spot?” she asked

“Of course,” he grinned.  They walked out into the woods behind the house before coming to a clearing.  The sun was beginning to set.  The mountains had a purple haze but the sky was bright blue.  Golden streaks danced across the clouds.  The clearing was full of dry grass and thistles that would become tumbleweeds when it got windy. 

“(Y/n) this is amazing,” he breathed the fresh mountain air.

“This is my favorite part of being home, the Rocky Mountain Skies.  They seem to dance with color.  I forget how pretty they are when I leave,” she smiled and watched the clouds float by. 

“Why did you leave?” Spencer asked.  He turned to look at the girl next to him.  She looked small in her coat and her hair was messy from the light wind. 

“After my dad died. My mom got with my Stepdouch a month later, the will had been “lost” the will that would have granted my this ranch.  The only reason I got it was Papa and grandma claimed they needed a place to live so I mean it’s theirs.  My mom got mad because she wanted to sell it.  and my cousin Rita wanted all of my dads horses, thousands of dollars worth of horses that she and my mom fought over and split the money on.  That wasn’t dads vision, they never cared about this place. Mom moved us into town, So when I turned 18 I left,” she shrugged. 

“I’m so sorry (Y/n)” he hugged her. 

“It’s okay. So why did you want to be a cowboy?” She teased.

“Well I mean every little boy wants to be a cowboy, I wanted to catch the outlaws, or maybe be them I’m not sure,” he laughed. 

“(Y/N), SPENCER, DINNER!” Dawn yelled to them.  

“Race you there” she smacked his chest and took off.

“No fair!” he called after her. 

[spinnin-burnice]

Watch Dogs: Legion X AmRev

@burgoyned Chapter 3 completed! ^^ Any feedback is welcomed!

Chapter 3: You Are Not Illegal!

André sat at the bar the next day, watching the news unfold on TV. Hanger stood next to him behind the counter, cleaning glassware. Lord Germain appeared on television, announcing his anti-immigration plans which include a travel sanction to several countries. The hacker gripped his shot glass so tightly his knuckles began to go white. Looking out the pub’s window, André chugged his shot. Parliament faced The Earl’s Fortune like a wolf staring down at a sheep. The Big Ben chimed, stating it was noon. Hanger picked up André’s shot glass. “You alright?” he asked his friend. André shook his head. “I have friends who are immigrants and wanted to live here. Now, this happens? Fuck that man,” he growled. Hanger washed the glass in the sink. “Well, we can’t do much now. There is no support for DedSec and Clan Kelley grow more restless on the streets.”

“Clan Kelley? They can kiss my ass,” sneered André as he got up from his spot. Hanger placed a finger on his lips as he points to two Albion workers walking into the pub. André nodded secretly to Hanger before leaving the pub. It was then Bagley phoned him through his earpiece. “Good afternoon Operator. I received intel that there is activity stirring in Lambeth. There is also data that is stored inside a warehouse, but it seems that the warehouse is compromised under Clan Kelley. This could be the first step to clearing DedSec’s name. I’ve marked the location on the map.” André’s phone pinged and the hacker looked at it. A yellow dot showed the warehouse is in Islington & Hackney. “Ok Bagley, appreciate your help. I’ll ping you when I’m done.” Bagley clicked and André hopped onto a motorcycle.

He drove to the Westminster Tube station located near Parliament. Parking the bike outside, André walked down to the station and purchased his ticket at the automated ticket booth. It wasn’t extremely crowded; people stood around talking on their phones, chatted with friends, or browsed the map to find their destination. Leaning against the pillar, André saw two Albion guards in his direction. He began to grow nervous as the two guards drew closer and closer. I’m not afraid but I don’t want to deal with these assholes. Fortunately, for him, the train arrived in time. The train slowed down before coming to a complete stop, and the doors opened. Passengers began exiting the train, hiding André from view. He took this opportunity to board the train as the guards spotted a fight and raced towards the commotion.

The train reached Islington & Hackney around 1:15 pm. Leaving the train, André walked through the security checkpoint where the screen flashed his identification as well as other passengers leaving the station. Walking up a flight of stairs, the hacker took out his phone to look at the map. His destination wasn’t far from his station, so André left the Tube looking for a transport device. Above him, ctOS drones flew around along with Albion fight drones, Parcel Fox delivery drones, and ctOS fighter drones. He spotted a Parcel Fox scooter sitting in the corner. That should do for now. André hopped on the scooter and drove off. It took him 5 minutes to reach the secured warehouse. Bagley ringed in again through his headpiece. “I’m picking up signals inside the building. You’ll need to proceed with caution.” “You got it, Bagley,” replied André as he got off the scooter and slipped on his mask. The Greek Helmet was heavy but not as heavy as André assumed it to be. It didn’t cover his face, but André preferred it not to, as he wants to visualize his surroundings.

The condition of the warehouse is in shambles; broken windows, torn-down doors, paint falling from the walls, graffiti-covered the building. Slipping near an alley, André pulled out his phone. A signal pinged, indicating hackable security cameras. Clicking the one near him, André can see the interior of the warehouse. Clan Kelley members roamed the first floor carrying large automatic rifles. I need to find where the files are hidden. After searching through various cameras, André finally found the camera pointing directly inside the warehouse’s main room. A laptop sat on a table in the middle of the room, surrounded by documents. A ctOS machine is hooked on the middle of the wall on the right of the laptop. A red line from the machine led directly to the front gate of the warehouse, as shown on the phone.

I need to find an entrance into the warehouse. As André proceeded to climb over a brick wall, he overheard commotion coming from the inside of the warehouse. “There he is!” “Get’em!” A static explosion set off on the second floor, creating more chaos. Kelley’s gunmen began rushing towards the second floor to help their comrades. Gunshots popped off at random intervals, yet the scream of a Kelley gunman grew louder as André looked up to see a man fall from the second floor. What is going on? He turned to his phone and hacked into the second-floor camera. From the screen, André saw a mysterious figure running up to each gunman and slam a metal bat onto their heads. Who is that person? André continued watching the fight until the batter finally reached the room where the laptop is located. Oh no. I have to beat him to it!

The mid-day sun hit the glass window, temporarily blinding André yet he rushed into the warehouse from the unguarded back entrance. A yellow ladder sitting on the right side of the first floor led to the second-floor landing. André climbed it and rushed across the balcony. He reached the room only to find the door was unlocked and the figure was already downloading files from the laptop. I’m too late! Picking up a gun from the ground, André shouted, “Stop right there! This is secured by DedSec!” The figure looked up; the gasmask was covered with various colorful paint and a green British pound symbol glowing on the left side of the visor. The figure straight at André. As the hacker approached, he noticed the masked figure’s white T-shirt was stained with blood, including the brown cargo pants and black heel boots. Only under the dim lights was the blood visible on the black leather jacket the man wore.

André stopped breathing for a bit as he cautiously approached the hacker. Looking at the metal bat sitting on the table, the young hacker whispered, “Just hand over the data and I won’t hurt you. I promise.” The man stared at André for a bit before his phone pinged that the data was successfully transferred. Please don’t make this any more difficult than it should be. Time stopped and André felt dizzy. Is this man friend or foe? The man disconnected his phone from the laptop and picked up his metal bat. André took a step back in fear of retaliation and cocked his gun in instinct. “I implore you,” André said again, “Just hand over the data. I’ll drop my weapon see?” He tossed the gun down and kicked it away. The man remained motionless but placed his metal bat down the table. Now we’re getting somewhere. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. “I now need you to hand the data over. Please trust me. I know you may hate DedSec for whatever reasons. But there are bigger problems out there. Clan Kelley, Albion, Zero Day…they caused the London bombings, not DedSec. Just give me the chance to prove you wrong.”

He wasn’t sure what he said had any effect since he didn’t want to lay an explanation to a random stranger he just met in a dangerous location. André held his breath as the stranger began typing into his phone. Is he going to set off explosives inside this room? Anxiety began to rush over his mind while watching the man continuously type into his phone. After a few minutes, André’s phone pinged to indicate that data transfer is complete. It worked. André smiled at the stranger. “Thank you, sir. I’ll best be on my way-“ The conversation cut off as alarm bells began ringing inside the warehouse. Shit! Clan Kelley is calling for reinforcements! Panicking, André rushed out of the room. From the first floor, Kelley clansmen rushed around looking for the intruders. The earpiece pinged and Bagley spoke. “I was able to process the data you’ve sent. It appears that there is a growing number of underground crimes that include human organ harvesting. Some are victims of the bombings. It all links to Clan Kelley. I’ll give you more details once you’re back.” “Thanks, Bagley. I’ll be there shortly,” André hissed as he hid from one of the clansmen.

The balcony shook as the two men rushed towards the back entrance. It was fortunate it wasn’t guarded as André and the masked man escaped the warehouse by leaping over the brick wall. They ran towards André’s scooter and André hopped onto the driver’s seat. The man set his bat down on his lap while holding onto André for security. Pushing start, the men drove towards the Islington & Hackney Tube station as drones flew past them towards the warehouse. André sighed with relief upon arriving in front of the station. It was packed from the mid-afternoon rush as people are coming home from work. André removed his helmet and shoved it into his satchel. “Hey, thanks for listening to me I appreciate-“ he stopped. The man removed his mask to reveal a very familiar face. A face that once shared laughter at the theatres, cried when emotions ran too high and smiled at a joyous conversation. “Oh my word, Sir Henry Clinton I-“ Clinton held his hand up. “Reunion later. We’ll need to head back first.”

André was beside himself in tears as he hugged his friend. “I’m so happy to see you again,” he sobbed into Clinton’s shoulder. Patting the young hacker on the back, Clinton whispered, “And I am too. It has been years.” “It has been,” sobbed André as he wiped tears from his face. Indeed, their reunion was cut short by the sound of two men approaching them. “Good afternoon sirs. We’re here for a random inspection. We’ll need to search your bags,” gruffed one of the Albion guards. “Sure look here,” Clinton motioned towards André who pulled out his satchel. The two guards looked at each other before one of them proceeded to look down the bag. Suddenly, Clinton swung his metal bat down on the guard’s exposed neck, killing him. “RUN!” he shouted. The men ran down the stairs while the second Albion guard called for backup. Pushing through the crowd, Clinton and André jumped into the train right as the door closed. Breathing heavily, André punched Clinton’s shoulder. “Back to the old times?” “You bet,” Clinton breathed as he clenched onto a metal bar for support. André collapsed onto the seat. Euphoric sensation took over him; he couldn’t stop smiling at his friend. DedSec mission complete!

[btssunnyboy]

Becoming Mine - Jeon Jungkook Part 1/?

In which the fairly new employee has an admirer

Word Count - 4,048

Warning - This is yandere and the whole series will have many yandere related events! Profanity and the mentions of looking down a shirt and seeing cleavage.

If anyone has any ideas they’d like to contribute, please feel free to send them my way!

Masterlist

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Mr. Jeon pinched the bridge of his nose in aggravation, while letting out a small huff of air as he stared at the trembling man before him. The man fiddled with the stacks of paper at his fingertips, and scanned each and every line hoping to find a solution, but every single one seemed to have a flaw within its codes. The numbers were far too low considering the amount of business ideas the company had sold this year. The man gave a short and almost panicked like cough when he noticed how violently Mr. Jeon’s leg was shaking underneath the table. The back of his heels that were repeatedly tapping away at the tiles were driving the man insane, the sound echoing in his brain like it was telling him to watch out for a dangerous situation is headed your way.

Patience for the problem at hand was growing thin in Jeon, too thin for anyone's liking.

If someone doesn't get these numbers corrected there will be hell to pay. Jeon loved to dish out servings of his sadistic like plans to those who were unfortunate enough to cross those boundaries. He'll make sure they receive what’s coming to them no matter what. Sweat was beginning to form in beads upon his employee’s forehead. The sight alone almost made him laugh, since Mr. Jeon knew if he only paid attention a bit more than the problem like this wouldn't have occurred at all.

The mess could have simply been avoid if only he was fucking paying attention for once in his pathetic life. Mr.Jeon's harsh eyes glared burning holes into the poor man temple.

"Rufus, I'm trying to remain professional because I know mistakes happen, but this is utterly ridiculous." He seethed through his teeth. His hands were now clenched before him, his whole demeanor was absolutely furious. You could practically see the smoke shooting out of his ears.

"I'm so sorry! I watched them go over these sets a million times I'm truly, and deeply sorry." Rufus sputtered out, as he frantically shoved his glasses back onto the bridge of nose. The sweat was pooling on his palms, and his pants were almost soaked with how much he's wiped his clammy hands on them. He didn't even give himself a chance to breath when he tried recalculating the numbers by hand.

"Your department better be lucky that these numbers aren't due until tomorrow night." Mr. Jeon spoke calmly. Even though, everything at this moment was completely opposite. He tapped away at the wooden surface of his desk, while Rufus gave a great nod of understanding. "What are you still doing here? Go fix these fucking numbers."

"O-Oh! Right Sir!" Rufus said, gripping tightly at the messed up papers. Not giving a care at this moment as he clenched them all beneath his fist and threw the wrinkled papers into the brown file organizer. A hastily escape was made as he fumbled on his feet to get out of the office completely. His sweaty palms once more giving him trouble as they refused to stay solid against the cold, metal doorknob. Giving it one last tug he yanked the door open swiftly and made his departure, making sure not to look back even as he closed the door.

Rufus could feel the fury clawing around inside of his chest at the thought of that embarrassing moment. The big big boss almost chewed his head off and that's never a good sign. Mr. Jeon will probably now view the department as a failure thus forcing everyone to quit, or he'll simply fire them. Either way the business will find a new management team who could actually keep up with their required task. If he loses his job then he's royal screwed.

"How in the hell did these numbers turn out lower than expected!" Rufus bellowed as he swung open the main door to enter his domain. The frame smacking its self on the nearby wall, gaining everyone’s attention. His sharp eyes stared down each and every employee in that room. Their eyes were cast downwards refusing to meet the eyes of a main who held nothing, but fire in his being. Rufus's demeanor changed within a snap of his fingers ever since he left the main boss' office. He was made out like a fool, and he was gonna make them feel the exact same way. "I don't have all day."

No one said a single word as he waved around the brown file organizer. Everyone shared confused looks between them all. They were for sure those numbers were calculated correctly. All those numbers were the profits the company has made and the numbers were sky rocketing. What happened? That the question that plagued everyone's mind, but no one had any clue as to what the answer might be.

Rufus's eyes finally landed on you. You pondered on the solutions to this problem. It had to happen fast or a lot of people were gonna be in deep trouble. You eyed the brown organizer that was hanging loosely from his grip. It was like a cartoon lightbulb dinged brightly above you head.

That's it, the brown file organizer is not the right one at all! The folder for this year was in a soft blue color. The wheels on your office chair slung you a bit to the right as you raced towards the drawers that held all the recorded numbers. Skimming through each one as briskly as you could. That organizer was here somewhere, it has to be here. No one, including you, could afford to lose this job.

You let out a sigh of relief as your fingers made contact with the plastic material of the organizer. There in all of its blue glory was your ticket to keeping your job, as well as the others. The drawer made a harsh clank as it was abruptly shut. Your heels clicked rapidly against the tiles as you raced against the clock to deliver the precious organizer.

"What is that?" Rufus sighed, motioning towards the blue plastic that was clutched in your painted fingertips.

"These are the correct numbers, you grabbed last years by mistake." You smiled as you tried to gingerly hand it over. Seeing as he would have to take it back up to Mr. Jeon and get them approved. His face quickly flashed from relief to the sinister. "Rufus what's the matter? Are you okay?"

"I was specifically told all the right papers were in this brown organizer! Why the hell do you have a blue one."

The profanity that left his lips without hesitation didn't affect you as it happened so often. Although he's making it seem like it's your fault that he grabbed the wrong one. You never told him to grab the brown one at all, you didn't even tell him which one it was period. This was his mistake, and he's not taking credit for it. It's absolutely pitiful.

"I remember you asking what color was last years and we responded with brown, and then we proceeded to say that this years color was blue." You corrected as you held it out once more. A dry scoff past through his lips as he harshly shoved the organizer into your stomach. "What?"

"Take it up there and explain to him why this mix up even happened. Let's see if you can handle the main boss and his wrath." After he spoke his final words he trudged to his office in the back.

Turning around you noticed everyone's eyes on you. Their sympathetic smiles only hurt you feelings more. You wish you could tell them it was fine, that mistakes happen. Even in a company like this, but with Rufus' new outburst you're afraid to even open you mouth at all.

"L/n! Get going!"

With that command you rushed off in the opposite direction. You tried not to draw that much attention as you walked right up the familiar glass door. When your eyes landed on his laser focused figure your legs grew weak almost giving in, and letting your body fall towards the floor. The thought of him yelling at you, saying you're disturbing him only made you want to race back to your original post and let someone else handle this. This should be Rufus after all not you.

You banged on the glass as lightly as you could and waited for his eyes to at least glance at the door. When it didn't happen you almost took that as your chance to bolt back downstairs. You’d just have to make up a lame excuse and say he was busy or not in his office at the moment.

"Rufus where - " Mr. Jeon stopped dead in his words when he noticed a more feminine looking figure in the other side of the glass. No gray hair, but a full colored one, no nasty black dress pants, but smooth legs connected to a very fitted pencil skirt. He could honestly say he was really enjoyed the view.

You tried to calm your breathing as you pushed open the door to let it swing open fully. The moment your entire body was in full view Mr. Jeon physically felt the breath leave his body. He was astonished at the person who was standing before him, he's never seen someone so breathtakingly beautiful. For the first time in his whole laugh he couldn’t muster up the rights words to say.

"Mr. Jeon I'm so sorry if I’m interrupting, but Rufus sent me with the correct numbers this time. Would you like to go over them?"

The way his name fell from your lips was sending the poor man in a full on spiral. His world felt like it was beginning to take a new form. A new form that was making him feel something he's never felt before, and he was now determined to keep this feeling alive and blooming. This was the one thing he was going to nurture like no tomorrow and make sure you're always by his side. All he needed was for you to agree and it was gonna be a piece of cake, hopefully.

All he needed was your name, and then he could get his hands on anything he needed to make you his.

"Oh you're not interrupting at all, but who are you?" His voice was filled with curiosity and you could actually understand it. The two of you have never formally met considering it was Rufus who hired you to work underneath him.

"Oh! I'm Y/n L/n, I work in the marketing department." You smiled as you extended a hand. What surprised you the most was how gently he took your hand into his. Like it was make of tender glass and if anything touched it, it would shatter into a million pieces. You've heard so many stories about how this man was as ruthless and conniving as they come. Yet here he is treating a stranger like they’re a delicate rose that needed strong protection and a gentle hand to do the protecting.

"I'm sorry we haven't formally met, but better late then never right, but let's see those numbers." He smiled as he gestured to the seat in front of him. That smile grew a bit wider when he noticed you pull the chair a bit closer. While doing this your body was leaned forward and when his eyes noticed your cleavage that was peeking out through the small dip in your shirt, his breath hitched. Purple suits her, oh god I bet that color would suit my floor even better.

"Are you okay, Mr. Jeon?" You questioned when the legs of the chair were finally sturdy against the tiles. Your caring eyes were full of concern as you stared at him. No sick motive behind you words, just genuine and honest concern.

"Of course don't worry about me, now back to these numbers."

Your fingers skimmed the lines of number that were printed onto the page. Making sure to note which numbers corresponded with which sales for that period. This company truly was a force to be reckoned with. Since it easily became one of the richest and most powerful companies within a few years. All that progress was made possible by the CEO Jeon Jungkook.

"Miss. l/n can I have a little bit more of your time before you go, I have an important question I need to ask you." He asked while you began to stand up and gather the correct numbered papers and neatly placed them into the empty folds of the organizer.

"Of course, Mr. Jeon. What is it?"

"How does Rufus treat his workers, is he as good of a boss as he claims to be?" He asked while intertwining his hands and leaning forwards on his desk. His eyebrows raised and his head tilted just slightly. The hesitation in your answer made his hands tighten ever so slightly. "How does he treat everyone? I need an answer."

"I mean he treats us good, but usually tries to rush things."

"Miss L/n, I don't appreciate when I'm being lied to straight to myself face. Now I'm gonna ask you one more time. What is his attitude back in that department like?" Mr. Jeon snapped. Just as before he was losing his patience, he needed this answer desperately. He finally wanted a reason to cut Rufus off at the knees and watch him crumble at the thought of losing the one thing that is keeping him afloat.

"He used to be really understanding and such, but now he rushes us and then proceeds to pile work-load upon work-load on us. He's agitated all the time and never sees anything as his fault it's always someone else's." You confessed as you fiddled with the hem of your blouse. Acting like the small, black button on the bottom was the most important thing in the world.

"Thank you for your cooperation and if you’re interested in a new swag from Rufus I’m almost positive I have a few new openings.” He added before you started walking out the door. His eyes lingering a bit longer on parts of your body that those eyes shouldn’t be looking at.

"I'll see if I can come by later, thank you Mr. Jeon."

"You're welcomed and you can call me Jungkook from now on."

You gave a small nod and quickly made your way out the door. Jungkook smiled like he has just seen the gates of heaven, but just the mere thought of you was more endearing than heaven itself. A dazzling smile had graced his face. He could feel a warm sensation taking over his body as he watched you walk down the end of the hallway and disappear into the crowds of people that flooded the office halls. When he was for certain that no one was going to bother him he quickly rolled around to his computer.

His sharp fingers typing at rapid speed against the white keyboard. Dozens of searches popping up, but none matching the description of the one person he needed. A groan of disapproval was lodged in his throat as nothing was coming up. Your file was somehow hidden from his view. His nails dug indents into the palms of his hands since his grip was iron tight. He needed to keep his temper under control he couldn’t afford to cause a scene on his office and have people rushing in.

He couldn’t afford to let people see his darling on his computer when you were supposed to he for his eyes only.

A small ding alerted him of a new notification. A new file had finally been added to the company database. By the grace of god that file was none other then yours. That beautiful face adoring his computer made his heart swell with endless amounts of joy. He had what he wanted at his fingertips.

He was gonna learn everything about you and all he needed to do was a click a few tabs. It may seem strange with his sudden infatuation with someone he just met, but he couldn’t help it. It was like a breath of fresh air watching you take timid steps through that door. Your honey like voice sounding like music to his ears and he wanted to keep that tune on repeat forever.

He wanted you forever.

When he fully closed out the tabs he raked his mind for possible positions he could place you in. The front desk was too far away and your intelligence would simply be wasted. When the thought of you being right by side crossed his mind there was no going back. The decision was already set in stone with or without your say so.

"I'll see you tomorrow my darling." He spoke in a gravelly voice. A sinister smile grazing his face at thought of you finally being his. This time his plans won’t fail, you’re not gonna end up like the last one. You are far superior then all of the others combined.

This time you were not gonna get away.

                                   —————

You didn’t like the unpleasant feeling that was flowing through your veins. The way his eyes went from kind and caring to stone hard within a snap of a finger gave you chills. He was determined to get the truth out of you and you gave into the pressure and completely caved. The air in that room felt suffocating and when you finally reached the step out of that office the air had finally came back into your lifeless like body. You scurried down the hall as fast as your heel clad feet could carry you.

You rushed to your cubicle as you placed yourself within its confinements. Genuine worrying filling you up once more as you thought back the encounters. His longing stares that stayed on you a bit too long to his hands that somehow kept brushing up against yours. The feeling felt foreign, strange and unwanted. The way his mood would swing from left to right left you drowning in concern.

The right thing was to just stay in your department and keep you distance. Somehow you still doubt he'll let you off that easy, but god you wish he would. You should never have said you’d come by to talk about the other job opportunities.

"Hey it's time to lock up." Lori shook your shoulders lightly pulling you away from your terror like thoughts. Her soft smile providing a little reassurance as to what just happened. No matter what you still can't shake that feeling that something is gonna go wrong. Usually your gut feelings are right, but this time you wish it was just an upset stomach. 

"Oh yeah I'll meet you at the car I just gotta use the bathroom."

"Okay don't be too slow I want to stop and get something to eat." She yelled as she got further down the hallway. Until all that was seen was the shadow she casted on the dimly lit hallway.

The familiar ding of your phone flashed the notification that your file was added to the database. They let everyone know when they were added due to the fact that employees had a right to know when their information was uploaded on any sort of database. This also came with the perks that everyone was update when their profile was being viewed.

Oh god, that same feeling of dread overtook your body like a tsunami.

He had viewed it. Probably from top to bottom, taking in as much information as his eyes would allow. He has accessed your phone number, you education and your fucking address. Everything was now at his grimy fingertips. Maybe this was gonna be a lot more dangerous then you thought. You tried to play if off as fluke, as him seeing you for the first time and was just wondering around it. The whole air of the situation felt sinister and you just couldn't stop it.

Your eyes darted left to right in a panic making sure he wasn't lurking behind the curve of the halls. Your heart was beating too loud for you to hear properly. Those cool, metal keys were clutched between your fingers as you took shaky steps down too the parking garage. Without falling you didn't waste time to yank open Lori's car door.

"Wow honey, looks like you've seen a ghost.you must’ve peed quickly." Lori snickered as she held out her hands for the keys and then she began to pull the car out of park. Her eyes trained on the numerous vehicles behind her car.

"Oh me? Yeah I'm...fine. Turns out I didn’t have to.” You said, taking a shaky breath. Your fingers quickly pressed the lock located on the right side of the door. The paranoia jumping out in your obvious actions. “Would if he weird to the main boss to view your profile?”

You saw her eyebrows go up as she pondered on the thought. Her acrylics tapping away at the wheel. “Well it all depends. If you’re talking about today then it’s probably fine, because keep in mind you just joined a few weeks ago. So don’t worry about it.”

You felt you shoulders lose the tension inside them. The shaky breaths that you were making you light headed finally were under control. A small smile grazed your face as you rubbed you temples. A gracious thank you passed through you lips when you got out of Lori’s car. An overwhelming feeling of security lingered on your body when the latch on the door was finally hooked.

You’re finally away from that place, you’re finally away from him. No need to watch over you shoulder to hide from his presence, no need to wonder if he’s lurking behind a corner.

The clothes that were restricted against you body felt like heaven coming off. Your bare skin was loving the feeling of cool breeze against it. You couldn’t wait for the scorching hot water to bless you skin once more.

“Hello?” You questioned, uncertainty laced throughout the word. Your eyebrows rose in confusion when the caller gave a heavy cough on the other line. You gave a shaky breathe as you tried to recollected yourself. “Mr.Jeon?”

“Oh! Yeah I’m sorry, but I was just calling to see when you wanted to schedule that meeting of sorts?” He questioned, his voice seemed like it was caught in his throat. Like he was all chocked up. “Are you busy right now?”

“Sorta, maybe it would be best if we called back later and try to arrange something?” You spoke. You were desperately trying to get out of this call as quickly as humanly possible.

“Yeah, I hope you have a good night, y/n.”

You didn’t even bother with a response as you quickly clicked the red button on the bottom of the screen. The damn phone number section had to be required on that stupid form. Right now you’re wishing you could just drop the job all together. Bills don’t pay themselves though.

You wish the hot water would wash all your worries away. That when you stepped foot outside the tub that everything would go back to normal, but that stuff seems to only happen in the movies. You hair was standing up on the back of you neck, and you just wanted these foolish feelings to evaporate with the steam that was clouding your body.

When you finally stepped out the shower you were quick to wrap the green towel around you vulnerable body. When you back was turned towards small window you couldn’t held the feelings that overtook your body.

“Stop acting like a fucking coward.” You grumbled to yourself as you slid a shirt over you sticky, wet shoulders. “Everything is gonna be fine.”

No matter how many times you repeated that phrase to yourself that night, your mind still raced with endless amount of possibilities.

Maybe this wasn’t gonna fine, maybe this was the start of something more sinister and dangerous then anyone could have imagined.

And maybe your mind was right.

[clintbartonswife]

Home

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader, (platonic) Steve x Reader Summary: When Steve first comes out of the ice, he learns of his fellow Howling Commando’s fates, yours being less than pretty. So, when he goes back to return the stones, he decides to be selfish. He brings you home.

Written for @buckygrantbarnes writing challenge with the prompt : Epiphany (n)- a moment of sudden revelation or insight. It’s in bold. I really tried 

Warning: brief mentions of suicide, angst, minor swearing, involves flashbacks (through Steve’s eyes) to 40s!bucky and 40s!steve

Word Count: 3.2k - this was not meant to get this long oh dear god

masterlist

“Are you sure you want to do this Cap?” Tony asked, placing the Manila folders in front of him cautiously, “You might not like everything that you read”

Steve just nodded, his eyes immediately drawn to your file, “I have to know”

He waited until he was alone that evening to look through the folders, starting with Dum Dum’s folder. By 2 am in the morning he had finally reached yours, fingers hesitating at the crisp pages. With a deep breath, he finally opened it. 

Your face beamed up at him, standing in between him and Bucky. That particular picture had been taken after their first successful hydra raid with the howling commandos, the three of you full of incomparable joy. Steve felt his eyes brimming with tears as he set the picture aside, moving onto the typed up briefing of your life. 

He knew something was wrong before he had even started, the folder much thinner than that of the other members, only a mere few pages detailing your life after the war. His stomach clenched uncomfortably at the sight, yet he continued to read. 

She continued to fight with the surviving commandos until the end of the war, where she was heavily decorated amongst her peers. Retiring from the forces, she moved back to Brooklyn, only 5 minutes away from Rebecca Barnes and her new husband. 3 months after retiring from the service she was found dead in her apartment from a gunshot to the head, self inflicted. 

Steve felt sick. Utterly, utterly sick. He had left you alone, and without him or Bucky there to help you, you had crumbled. Shoving the folder away from him, he stumbled to his feet, dashing out of his room and towards the common room kitchen to get some water. 

He ignored a few worried calls as he walked through the corridors, his mind reeling with the imaginative horrors of your death, conjuring up images of your limp body sprawled lifelessly on the floor -  

The thought made him heave, tears gathering in his eyes as he clumsily took a cup from the cupboard and began to fill it up, his usually steadfast hands shaking life a leaf as memories of his youth filled his head.

“I didn't see you here yesterday, you’re always sat here sketching at 4. Were you okay?”

Steve looked up at you in shock, sketching pad lying on his legs as he tried to formulate a sentence.

“Wha - yeah. My asthma was bad is all, ma didn't want me leaving the house. Um - I’m Steve”

“Y/N” you greeted cheerfully, seating yourself next to him on the bench, “I think we’re going to be great friends”

“Steve! Wait up!” you called, running down the street, madly weaving through the throngs of people that lined the Brooklyn streets. Steve had known you for years now, Bucky instantly accepting you into the fold.

Steve watched you approach with a grin, leant against the wall with his hands tucked in his pockets to keep out of the way of the morning rush. 

“I thought you had ditched me” he teased, elbowing you lightly in the side, “was waiting for 20 minutes doll”

You ducked your head slightly, your hair falling in your face as you laughed, “I would never Steve - you know that”

With a small nod, he offered you his arm, the two of you walking towards the theatre.

“Is Buck coming?”

“Shouldn’t you know that?” He teased, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

You blanched, a blush creeping up your cheeks, “I don't have a clue what you’re talking about”

He snorted, falling next to you in line at the ticket booth with a relaxed smile.

“Yeah, because you didn't fall hopelessly in love with him when we were 7″

You punched his arm lightly, stumbling over words as you tried to defend yourself.

“He’ll ask you out any day doll, I’m sure of it”

“Steve! Help me!”

He turned around to see Bucky close in on you, tackling you to the ground before he began tickling your sides.

“Make him stop - ow! James! I’ll get you for this I swear!”

“Nah, you love me too much to hurt me babydoll” Bucky smirked, his eyes shining with admiration as he stared down at your scowling face.

Steve sniggered as he watched you turn beet red, immediately wiggling out from underneath the taller man and making a rushed excuse to leave.

“What was that?”

“You called her babydoll again” Steve smirked, crossing his arms triumphantly, “Just admit it, you like her”

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

“Jerk”

“It’s in Europe, they say we might have to join” you said in a low voice, squished between Bucky and Steve in a booth, a shared smoothie sat on the table.

“Someone’s got to stop the Nazis - I think we should help” Steve explained with a small shrug. “They’re bullies, they need to be stopped”

“What do you think Buck?”

“Huh - what? Sorry doll I wasn’t listening”

You sighed, narrowing your eyes at Dot who had been flirting with him from across the diner.

“Just go sit with her if she’s that bloody interesting”

“If that’s alright with you?”

You huffed moodily, Steve answering for the both of you, a scowl forming on your face as you watched him flirt.

“He’s nothing but a skirtchaser” you huffed, taking an angry sip of milkshake, “Just admit it Steve, he sees me as a sister. I’ve known him too long”

“Trust me, he doesn’t look at you like he looks at Becca. He’s just being an idiot right now” Steve said, consoling you, “Besides, they never last more than a week, you’ve got to realise there’s a reason for that”

“I’ll believe it when I see it Rogers”

“Buck you cant go” you cried into his chest, hands fisted into the material of his jacket.

“I’m sorry doll, but you know I have to. I’ll come home, I promise” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your hairline as he pulled away, moving to give Steve a hug.

“Look after her while I’m gone Steve, I mean it”

“You know I will”

“And don't do anything stupid”

“How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you” Steve smiled sadly, moving to hold your hand as you waved Bucky off.

As soon as he was out of sight you buried your head in Steve’s shoulder, letting out broken sobs as he held you tightly.

“I didn��t tell him Steve”

“I know”

“What do you mean you’re leaving? You’re being deployed?”

“Yes, well I -” You cut him off with a hug, knowing how much he wanted to get in to the army, until the reality came crashing down.

“What am I supposed to do? What about your asthma? Your pains? I - I should join the nurses, see if I can go with you. You’ll - you’ll need someone who knows how to help you”

“Y/N no, I promised Buck -”

“You cant leave me here alone Steve, I cant be in Brooklyn alone”

“Who are - wait - Steven?”

“It's me”

“But you’re massive! What happened to you!”

“I joined the army” he chuckled, a sad tinge to his voice

“Why’re you sad?”

“They’re not deploying me. They have me on a dance troupe instead, something about selling bonds”

You pulled him into a hug, withholding a sigh of relief, “Well, I guess I’ve found my new job, eh?”

You snuck off stage with Steve, ignoring the cheers of the soldiers as you consoled him, smiling at Peggy as she approached.

“Tough crowd? That audience contains what was left of the 107th -”

“Wait, the 107th?” 

Steve was up in a flash, you and Peggy following close behind.

“Sir I just need to know one name, Sargent James Buchanan Barnes of the 107th, please”

“I’ve written more of those letters than I’d care to admit today - I’m sorry but the name does sound familiar”

You choked down a sob as Steve asked what the plan was to save the POWs, your hand absentmindedly clutching his as you tried to ground yourself.

“I cant believe I let you come” Steve breathed exasperatedly, watching as you put your show helmet back on, a determined look in your eye.

“Hey, I’ve been training her, she’s pretty good” Peggy smiled, handing you a pistol and holster, as well as a stolen machine gun.

The plane leered to the side slightly, Howard shouting apologies from the front.

“I’ll have you know I beat your accuracy on the shooting range, Rogers” you teased, attaching the thigh holster as you steadied your breathing, getting ready to drop into enemy territory.

You fought brutally, following Steve’s every move as you made your way through the hydra base.

“What do you need me to do?”

“Get the prisoners out, I’ll carry on looking for Bucky”

“Are you sure -”

“If he sees you here you know he’s just going to act tough, we need to move quickly”

You snorted in agreement, taking the cell keys and splitting off from him, shooting down the last few guards before entering the room.

“Who are you?” 

“Here to save your asses”

“I asked you to keep her safe!”

“I did! She’s fine isn't she?”

“She is standing right here! And yes, I’m joining and there’s nothing you can do about it, okay?”

“Doll, I just don't think -” “Bucky if the dame wants to come along, let her come” Dum Dum interrupted, “She saved us back then and she seems capable enough”

You smiled smugly, raising your eyebrow at Bucky as Steve watched on in amusement.

“You’re not gonna back down from this are you? God my ma’s gonna kill me”

You cheered at his acceptance, pulling both Bucky and Steve into a hug.

“The three musketeers back together again”

“I wish it was under better circumstances”

“don't we all”

“Bucky I’m fine! It was the right move, if I hadn't have gone in there then the turret might have taken Gabe and Pinky out!”

“You almost got shot!”

“We’re always almost getting shot!”

“But normally I have eyes on you - I can look out for you” “I don't need you to babysit me James! I can do it!” “Well I cant! I lost eyesight on you and you weren’t answering me doll - I - you can’t do that -“

“You don’t seem that bothered when the others leave your sight! You’re being hypocritical Bucky -“

“I LOVE YOU GODDAMNIT”

Everything went quiet, a shocked gasp escaping your lips at the epiphany.

The men cleared their throats awkwardly, the two of your voices carrying back to the camp. Steve, however, sat back in his seat happily, glad that his friend had finally taken the leap. 

Everyone was sat quietly as Jaques fiddled with the radio, trying to hack into the Russian network.

Steve was sat opposite the two of you, watching as you had a hushed conversation. You were sat in between Bucky’s legs, your back leant against his chest. You tilted your head upwards to talk to him, small giggles escaping your lips as he pressed light kisses all over your face.

The rare peaceful moment was cut short as the channel took hold, harsh Russian cutting through the cold air, bringing with it the beginnings of the next mission.

“What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that we were cornered and I needed to get into the control room!”

“Jesus babydoll, are you trying to give me a heart attack”

“I can handle myself Buck! How many times do I need to prove myself before you realise that? I can fight my own fucking battles”

Bucky cut you off with a growl, picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder, muttering something about your dirty mouth.

“We’ll be back in a bit Steve”

“Try and keep it down this time” Steve teased, earning a shocked curse from you as you began to scold him.

“Steven Grant Rogers, how very dare you -”

“Stevie you’ll never guess what!”

“Did he do it?”

You turned around to Bucky, a massive grin on your face.

“He knew?”

“Of course he knew, who do ya think helped me pick the ring?”

Delighted, you hugged Steve, thanking him.

“He was getting cold feet, thought it was too soon” Steve teased, “all I had to do was remind him you’ve been in love since you were 14 - he’s been carrying that damn ring around since the last big town”

“I love you big idiots”

Bucky chuckled from behind you, his arms encircling your waist protectively, chin resting on the top of your head.

“Just a few more bases and we can go home” Bucky promised, Steve nodding firmly.

“Just a few more”

You stared blankly at Steve, his words falling on to deaf ears. Blindly, you started towards the edge of the cliff to look at the train track where he had fallen, Steve’s hands preventing you from getting too close.

“He’s not gone. He’s not”

“I’m sorry, I reached for him. He was right there and I-“ Steve’s voice broke off into sobs, your arms mechanically hugging him. You were numb.

“It’s not your fault” you murmured repeatedly, “not your fault”

Only two weeks later, the group had found the main hydra base. Steve had tried talking you out of coming but you needed the revenge, the alcohol not cutting into your grief.

You moved through the base with conviction, unbridled fury coursing through your veins as you cleared corridors of hostiles by yourself, movements brutal and unforgiving.

“He’s on the jet - missiles - I need backup”

You watched as Steve kissed Peggy, a small smirk pulling at your lips, before you continued clearing the way to the control room.

“I’ve got to put her in the water”

“Steve - no. You can’t do that to me, please”

Peggy tried to come up with an alternative route, but Steve was sure it was the only way.

“Y/N I’m so sorry”

As Steve stepped on the platform, one glance at Bucky confirmed what he had to do.

When he had first remembered you, he had cried for hours in Steve’s arms until he eventually worked up the courage to read your folder. He had gone silent for a few minutes before letting out the most heart wrenching sob Steve had ever heard.

He was inconsolable for quite a while afterwards, quite similar to Steve when he had found out, unable to imagine you in a place that dark.

“3, 2, 1”

A hesistant knock sounded at your door, bringing you out of your daydream. You cursed the interruption, reality crashing back down around as you realised you were back in the States and they were gone.

The person knocked again, more firmly this time. You opened it with a fake smile (one you had mastered recently), to be met with a familiar set of broad shoulders.

”Steve?”

Your voice was shaky, your hand reaching out to cup his cheek.

“Oh god I’m going insane aren’t I - you - you died. You’re both dead. Who - why are you doing this? It’s not funny!” You wept, scrambling backwards.

“Y/n-“

You froze at his voice, hands beginning to tremble.

“No, no”

Your crying increased as you pressed your hands to your ears, sliding down the wall until you were hunched over, rocking back and forth slightly.

“You’re dead, you’re dead, you’re dead” you mumbled.

“Y/n I’m here, it’s me. I’m here doll”

Warm arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a comforting embrace, “shhh. Shhhh”

“Is it - is it really you?” You asked, hands clawing at his shirt, “Steve, Steve it’s you?”

“It’s me, I’m here” he said, voice cracking with emotion.

“But - but - the ice. You crashed Steve. You - you - you died! You both died!” You had to pause, choking on tears, “you both left me. I had to come back here alone, you know I didn't want to be in Brooklyn alone”

“I know, and I’m so sorry doll. I’m so sorry. But I came here to take you home, with Buck and I”

“Oh - I did it didn’t I?”

“What?”

“I’m dead”

“No. You’re not dead, but you did-“ his voice broke off, tears falling from his eyes as he tried to finish his sentence, “I know what you’re thinking of doing”

“Oh”

“I’m from the future, there’s no easy way to put it. The ice froze me, kept me alive. I read it in your notes”

“Bucky’s alive in the future too?”

“The fall didn’t kill him”

You gasped, filling in the gaps yourself.

“Oh god, we - we basically handed him to them!”

“But he’s alive, he’. Please let me save you doll - come back with me. I know it will be different but -“

“Yes, please don't leave me again Stevie I cant - not again - I cant”

The blond just nodded in understanding, helping you to your feet.

“Is there anything you need to get?”

You shook your head, your engagement ring still shining on your finger as you grasped the two sets of dog tags around your neck.

Steve tilted his head to the side questioningly.

“Rebecca wanted Bucky’s, I couldn’t say no to her. I got to keep yours though - you can have them back if you want?”

“No need” he smiled, wiping away his tears with the back of his hand, “Let’s go”

You fell to your knees on a metal platform, Steve’s hand still resting on your shoulder.

“Steve what did you do?”

You ignored the unfamiliar voice as you looked up, eyes frantically searching for Bucky.

“Steve -”

You whipped around at the sound of his voice, “Buck”

You launched yourself at him immediately, the two of you crumbling to the ground in a messy embrace. Tears ran steadily down his cheeks as his hands ran over your figure, as if solidifying that you were really in front of him.

“Your hair is so long now” you giggled tearfully, stroking your hands through the silky strands, “and you have a beard!”

He laughed ruefully, searching your face quickly before burying his face back into your neck.

“I missed you babydoll” he whispered into your skin, tightening his arms around your waist, “I’m so sorry for everything”

Frowning, you cut him off, gently moving his face in front of yours and pulling him into a sweet, tender kiss.

“You have nothing to be sorry for James, nothing at all”

He looked down at your intertwined fingers, eyes drawn to the ring.

“You kept it”

“There was never gonna be anyone else Buck -”

“I know”

Averting your eyes from Bucky for a few seconds, you gestured for Steve to join the hug, your family unit complete.

“The three musketeers back together again” Steve smiled, leaning forwards so all three of your foreheads were touching.

“Punk”

“Jerk”

“Idiots”

[thirdbasedumpsterfire]

Take Me Out To The Ball Game

The Ao3 link for anyone interested: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26469577

“Come on dad!” A ten year old boy ran through the crowd urging his dad to hurry after him.

“Doby, Slow down!” The young boy turned impatiently to his father. 

“I don’t wanna miss the game!” He pouted. His dad chuckled coming up beside him.

“Don’t worry. We aren't going to miss it.” The boy looked impatiently at his father but slowed down walking just ahead of him. They waited in line for what felt like an eternity before finally arriving at the ticket booth. The man walked up to the booth.

“Two tickets please.”

“Sorry sir, we’re all sold out.” His father’s smile fell.

“What?” 

“We’re sold out. Just sold the last one.” Doby looked at the man in the booth sadly.

“But we have to see it! It’s the Wolves last game of the season!” The man shrugged.

“Sorry kid.” Doby's face fell and he was about to cry. The man in the booth was about to walk away when he heard a shout.

“Wait!” Doby and his dad turned to see John running up the drive to the stadium. In his hand he waved two pieces of paper. He reached the window and slammed them down. He panted looking at his dad and little brother.

“John!” Doby ran forward hugging his brother.

“Hey, dude! Ready to see the big game?” Doby nodded enthusiastically jumping up and down.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!” The man in the booth walked back grabbing the tickets. 

“You only have two.” John looked at his dad and shrugged.

“Sorry I could only afford two.” His dad waved a hand.

“It’s fine. You boys enjoy the game! I’ll watch from home.” Doby was already running ahead waving behind him.

“Thanks dad!”

“You boys have fun!”

“We will!” John called back as he ran to catch up with Doby. Once he did they walked side by side, filed into rows and entered the crowded stadium. It was huge! Doby had seen it many times before but was always amazed by just how big the real baseball fields were. He looked everywhere from the snack stands to the Jumbotron, to the diamond. 

He could see the rival team sitting in their duggout on the other side. The Rockets were tough but he knew the Wolves would win out. They had Jerry Rodrick! He was the best batter this side of the Mississippi! There was no way they’d lose with him.

They walked up to stairs for a while, waiting as other people found their seats. Unfortunately John only managed to get the really far back seats. It sucked, but they could watch on the Jumbotron. Besides that at least they were there.

They finally reached their seats. Doby was excited only to be disappointed once he sat down. He couldn't see a thing! He turned to John who had already made himself comfy.

“John!” He whined. “I can’t see!” John turned to his brother.

“Oh, well I think we can fix that.” He hunched down. “Get on.” Doby moves up onto his brothers shoulders and John came back up. Now on his brothers shoulders Doby saw everything! He could see the diamond perfectly!

“Better?” John asked. Doby nodded excitedly.

“Yeah thanks!” John chuckled “No problem, but you’ll have to stay up there for a while.”

“That’s ok. I can do that.”

They sat like that for a while. John managed to flag down some popcorn and peanuts for the two to much on. The game was tense. The teams were neck and neck for practically the entire game! They got into the third inning when it happened.

There had been a few fly balls that game mostly not going to far and a couple lucky kids even caught them. Still they never could have guess what would happen next.

They sat in a back row. Doby was practically on the edge of his seat watching the game. He was leaning forward just a little watching closely. He hummed to the tune of Take Me Out To The Ball Game as he watched.

The Rockets were pitching and Jerry was up to bat. This would be epic! They threw the first pitch and Jerry didn’t swing. He was waiting for a good pitch. Second pitch another foul. This was it the third pitch. The pitcher wound up, threw, and Jerry hit with all his might. He nailed it and the ball went flying! It’s was fast, so fast in fact it took a moment for Doby to register that it was coming right at him! The ball flew with breakneck speed! One moment he was realizing the ball would hit him, the next he threw him hands out as he was knocked back into the crowd.

His face exploded in pain and he screamed as the strangers behind him reacted. Luckily they caught him before he hit the ground. John jumped around in a panic.

“Are you ok?!” Doby looked up dizzily and gave a newly gap toothed grin holding out the ball in his hands.

“I caught it.”

Doby didn’t get to see the rest of the game as he was taken to the hospital to make sure he hadn’t broken anything. He was checked over and doctors concluded all he broke was a couple teeth. He would have to get a filling but other wise he’d be fine.

When Doby got home he sat the ball up on his shelf next to his dinosaur books and baseball cards. Over the years the shelf rearranged but that ball remained. It remains to this day, underneath a layer of dust, locked in a room behind police tape. Now nothing but another relic in a house of abandoned memories.

~ Mod Vilet

[mirkwoodshewolf]

A day at Disneyland; Chris Hemsworth x reader

*Author’s note*

Hello and good afternoon everybody! So this is a request that I have had done for the past couple of days but I’ve been on a deadline with another request that I’m trying to get done before their bday tomorrow (I’m about half way done with it) but this one is probably my first ever Hemsworth story I had ever done (So I’ve done half of the Chris quartet). Now my knowledge of Disneyland is minimal to none cause I’ve never been to Cally so the only Disney experience I’ve had is Disneyworld down in Florida, but I hope I still did some justice for this fic.

No warnings except PURE, UNADULTERATED, TEETH-ROTTING G RATED FLUFF!!!

Taglist:

@psychosupernatural

@ixchel-9275

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

_______________________________________________________

I was packing up the car getting ready to prepare for the 2 and a half hour drive to downtown LA so that the kids and I could go to Disneyland.  My name is (y/n) (l/n) and I’ve been a single mom for three years.  My ex-husband and I were having some problems, constantly fighting until finally one stupid mistake on his part landed him in the LA prison.

Furious and disappointed, I filed for divorce because I didn’t want his bad influence to affect our children and it was hard on us, especially my eldest son Dean.  He and his daddy were close ever since he was born, but when I was forced to tell him that his daddy wasn’t ever gonna get out of prison, it was hard for him to cope.

It was tough raising not only 2 growing boys but a newborn baby girl at the same time.  My little girl, Leia will never get to know her father because of his stupidity and I don’t want to expose her to him. At first I thought I’d never get to have the father figure my kids needed because it was just me and my sister and my mom who was helping me raise my kids, my dad sadly passed away due to a stroke shortly after my second son Henry was born.

That was until by sheer luck of fate as I was coming home from the store when I accidentally dropped all my well-paid food, that a handsome blonde stranger came into my life.

I had no idea at the time who he was until Dean (whose obsessed with all things superheroes both Marvel and DC) that when we saw the second Avengers movie Age of Ultron, it was shocked to see that it was him.  Chris Hemsworth.

We kept in contact and whenever he wasn’t too busy, he’d come over for a visit and we’d have a couple of dinners.  Soon couple dinners turned into months’ worth of dinners, then starting a relationship until just recently about a year ago he moved in with me and the kids.  Right now he was busy filming “Avengers: End Game” down in his homeland of Australia.

One night as we were all facetiming with each other, Chris had given us a surprise.  He said that he and the entire cast would be in Disneyland to help promote the film and not only that, he got all four of us tickets to go throughout the park and spend an entire day at Disneyland.  The kids were so excited that they were finally gonna go to Disneyland, especially my little girl since she’s finally big enough to ride some of the rides.

Which leads us to here.  As I was putting the bags into the car I said.

“Dean, don’t forget to bring your chargers okay?”

“Yeah mom.”

“Leia, do you got your Simba plushie with you?”

“Right here mommy.” She exclaimed as she held out her stuffed Simba plushie that Chris had given her last Christmas.

“Henry you’ve got your lightsaber right?”

“Yeah, do you think I could really fly the Millennium Falcon?” he asked me.

“We’ll see. Okay Got the bags, toys, gaming consuls, DVD is all set up. Everyone got everything?” My kids all cheered out in choir unison. “So whose ready to go to Disneyland?” they all cheered and raised their hands and I continued, “Alright. Tickets are in my purse and off we go!” I started the car and started up the installed DVD player which played Leia’s and Henry’s favorite movie “Hercules”.

Thankfully with the help of a movie and Dean busy playing on his Nintendo, there wasn’t much complaining from the kids (which was perfect for me).  Finally after the long drive, we finally reached the archway of the entrance into Disneyland.

“We’re here! We’re here! Look over there I can see Woody!” All my kids were in pure awe as we drove under the archway, I could just feel from the front seat the energy these kids were about to unleash.  I was now waiting in line to pay for parking and when I had gotten up I greeted the worker and handed her my license and money.

But when she saw my picture she handed me not only my license but the cash back as well and she told me.

“No payment necessary ma’am, we’ve actually been told of a special reserve spot for you to go to.” At first I was confused but then it dawned on me.

“That Aussie I tell you what.”

“One of our workers will escort you to your special reserved spot.” It was then another worker came up and he asked if he could hop into the car so he could be my navigator. I allowed him in the passenger seat and he told me exactly where to go.

We drove around for about 5 minutes till we reached the reserved front corner entrance where standing there with sunglasses on was Chris.  He grinned and waved to us and the kids waved back to him.  I parked in the parking spot and as soon as I turned off the engine, all the kids raced out and glomped him.

 “There are my favorite three little munchkins!” Chris proclaimed as he wrapped his arms around all three of my kids at the same time and even lifted them up and spun them around, making them laugh and cheer.

“And what about me? Am I just the cabbie driver? Or just some old maid here to serve your favorite three munchkins?” I teased.  Chris set my kids down and he said.

“On the contrary, you my lady are the beautiful good witch who protects and nurtures them. A witch that has put even a god like me under her spell.” He wrapped his arms around me, swaying me gently from side to side grinning down at me.  I grinned up at his sweet talk before our lips joined together only to be disrupted when a choir of voices cried out.

“EWWW!!!!” We separated to see all three of my kids with a look of disgust on their faces.

“Ahh no it’s not gross. Be patient soon enough all of you will be doing this.” Said Chris.

“Over my dead body.” I mocked.  “I want my babies to stay this young forever! Especially my little man.” I said as I walked up to my kids before hugging my eldest son close.  I swarmed his face with kisses and ruffled his ‘lion mane’ like hair that he inherited from his father.

“Mom! Mom, you’re messing with my mane!” Dean cried out as he tried to get out of my embrace. When I finally released him he backed away and tried to readjust his hair to that sweep-over hair that looked like it belonged back in the 1980’s.

“I need to plan an appointment to get your haircut mister.”

“No!” he then raced over to Chris and hid behind him.

“No worries mate, I won’t let any barber cut this hair of yours.” Chris said as he stroked my son’s hair.

“Coming from the very man whose worn the same long blonde wig for years.”

“Hey the last few movies I didn’t have to wear one. But this meeting isn’t about haircuts, now whose ready for a full fun day at Disneyland?!” The kids all raised their hands crying out ‘me! Me! Me! Me!’ “Awesome, already got our tickets, so let’s go out there and have a full day of family fun!” We all cheered before racing onward into the park.

There were so many rides that it was almost impossible to pick just one.  However my daughter who has always favored the merry-go-round no matter whether it was a state fair, amusement park or whatever, anytime she saw a Merry go round she wanted to go on it.

So as a nice little warmup, we all got in line for the merry-go-round.  We waited for I don’t know 5-10minutes in line before they let the next several people to go aboard.  My sons went straight for the two twin black horses while my baby girl went for a white stallion with a pink saddle on it.  As I was about to get on my horse, Chris came up and he said.

“Allow me my lady.”

“Why thank you good sir knight.” I mocked in probably the worst British accent I could muster. I felt his hands go to my waist and he gently hoisted me up and I ended up rising side-saddle but then what I didn’t expect was for Chris to get right behind me.  “Uhh Chris, I don’t think we’re allowed to do this.”

“Relax love, it’ll be okay.” He assured me.  The bell soon sounded off and soon an accordion version of ‘A dream is a wish’ started plaything through the speakers and the ride began.  

All around us, kids were cheering and waving to their parents who were standing along the railings watching their kids ride all by themselves, young couples riding side by side holding hands or riding in the sleighs nonchalantly kissing each other.

I felt Chris take my hands in his and I felt his head gently lean against mine and a kiss at my temple.  I smiled and nuzzled against him as the ride continued to go on.

After the ride we continued to walk around the park riding more rides like the Mad Hatter’s teacup ride, and Toy Story Mania that was until we finally reached the famous Splash Mountain.

“Ohh mom look! Splash Mountain!” Henry proclaimed as he was now riding on top of Chris’ shoulders.  

“I see it Henry.”

“Can we go on that next, please?”

“I guess we can, but I’m not sure if everyone’s tall enough to ride it.” I teased as I looked down at my daughter who was holding my hand.

“Yes I am mama! We measured me last month! I’m big enough.” She said as she pulled on my hand.

“Ohh that’s right, well let’s get a second opinion from the official park height measurements.” We all headed over to the line entrance of Splash Mountain and Leia immediately went up to the height chart.  “Okay, now stand still baby girl.” She hummed happily as she could barely contain her excitement. “No cheating now.” I told her in my mom voice and that made her stand still.

In the end, she was eligible to ride Splash Mountain.

“Okay, everyone stick together now.” Leia cheered happily and her brothers high-fived or fist-bumped her and even Chris did a double fist bump with her as he cheered and picked her up.

“Alright that’s my girl! I told you were growing like a weed!”

“Okay everyone let’s get into the line before it gets too long.” We all got in line and we waited. After what felt like forever and the kids complaining about when the line would move faster, hanging off both mine and Chris’ hands and arms, we finally got closer to the ride.  Since there were five of us we decided to divide up the group, I took Henry and Leia while Chris and Dean rode together, being the big boys that they were.

I got in the log first with the help of the ride attendant and I told Leia to get in first so that way she would be in the middle and Henry could ride up front.  Once we were buckled in and the guy gave us the all clear and the worker at the controls gave a thumbs up and soon we were off.

We went along the trail before going up the first hill.  Hearing the ticking of the controls as it took us up higher and higher before finally dropping us downward on the small uphill.  We were all cheering and laughing as we allowed the current to push us faster than we did when we first went out.

We were now shrouded in darkness as we were now inside the mountain before we would go off the big hill that would take our picture.

“Is this the big drop yet?” asked Leia.

“Yeah Leia, and watch this, this time I’m gonna have both my hands up in the air!” proclaimed Henry.

“Just make sure you don’t unbuckle yourself Henry.” We soon saw the light at the end of the tunnel and I said as I hugged my daughter’s waist. “Here we go.” As soon as we went off the drop-off we all screamed before finally splashing down at the bottom, getting soaked with water.  Both my kids were laughing and clapping. “So Leia, was it everything you thought it would be?”

“It was better mama! We went up and up and up till we went SHOOSH!!” I smiled down at her and I saw Henry was about to get out as soon as we saw the exit point.

“Hold on Henry, wait till we come to a complete stop.” Another worker soon placed their foot on our log and she said.

“Please watch your step as you exit the log, and we hope you have a good rest of your day at Disneyland. And don’t forget about our fireworks show tonight at 8pm in front of Cinderella’s castle.”  She helped my kids out and I got out on my own with a bit of help from her.  As we collected our stuff, we waited at the bottom of the exit point for Chris and Dean.

A few minutes later we saw them coming down (well Dean was more like racing down while Chris was the one walking).

“Did you boys have fun?”

“You bet we did, and how about you Princess? Was it exciting?” Chris asked as he scooped up my daughter and she laughed giddily.

“It was soo much fun, can we go on it again?”

“Maybe later, for now let’s go see our pictures.” He answered.  We walked further down the trail till we reached the giftshop and went up to the picture booth and waited and that’s when I pointed out for Henry and Leia.

“Look there we are.” All three of our faces filled with screams or joy.  Henry as promised had both of his hands in the air and his eyes were wide.  Meanwhile I turned and saw Chris and Dean’s pictures.  Chris had covered Dean’s eyes with his hands while his blue eyes looked like they were about to pop out of his sockets, I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Shall we get a copy?” he asked.

“I don’t know…..”

“C’mon this is my treat.”

“Baby I don’t want to feel like I’m taking advantage of your well-earned—”

“You’re not. This is me treating my lovely girl and her children on a day of fun.” He pecked my cheek before turning to the kids giving them the signal to back him up.

“Please mama, please!” They all ganged up against me giving me the puppy dog eyes, Chris included as he had all my kids in his arms looking right up at me.

“Ohh…..alright.” The kids cheered and then turned to Chris telling him what they wanted.  In the end Dean got a keychain, Henry got a small picture frame and Leia got a small locket, and Chris got him and I a copy of a picture frame of our picture.

After a few more rides, we all began to get hungry so we found ourselves a nice little food court restaurant called “Mickey’s Italian shop”.  As we ordered out food, like you would see on Youtube of the characters coming up to the guests just to hang out with the customers.

So we ended up having Mickey and Pluto coming over to our table.  Pluto being my daughter’s favorite Disney dog was thrilled and gave him a big hug and of course Pluto hugged her back before using that tongue that always hangs out to give her a ‘doggy kiss’.  It was so adorable that I just had to get a picture of them together, I also got some pictures of my boys with Mickey and Chris took one with me, Pluto and Mickey.

The day continued to press on and soon it was nightfall and everyone gathered at Cinderella’s castle to grab the best spot for the fireworks show that was about to happen in the next 7 minutes.  Even with the crowd of people that were already sitting down, we still managed to get good enough seats to still see the castle’s full stature.

After waiting a few more minutes the lights went off and we all cheered as the castle first lite up a lightshow for us.  Showing images and clips from various Disney films as ‘Circle of Life’ blared from the speakers.  Chris and I looked at each other before leaning against one another watching the light show and seeing the kids stare in awe.  Then the big event happened.

A giant red firework shot up and exploded into the sky.  Everyone oohed and ahhed as more fireworks began to fly into the sky before exploding into various colors and sizes.

“Did you have a good time love?”

“This was the most wonderful time I’ve ever had at Disneyland. Even when I was a kid, it didn’t compare to this.”

“I think this might get a little more interesting.” He said.  I was about to ask him what he meant by it but he pressed a finger to my lips and turned my chin back toward the sky.  We continued to watch the fireworks but then something happened I had never seen happen at a Disney firework show.

One firework that went off created an image of Mjolnir, Thor’s famed hammer before three fireworks fired off immediately spelling out.

“YOU AR WORTHY TO ME.” My jaw slowly dropped and I felt my heart stop.  Soon another phrase spelled across the sky, “WILL YOU LET ME BE WORTHY OF YOU?” I turned to Chris who now stood on one knee holding out a small ring.  A spotlight came down onto us and I could hear everyone gasp and cry out around us.

“(Y/n), these past few years have been the best years of my life. I didn’t think I would be happy, until you came into my life. Will you make me the happiest man in the world, and marry me?” he opened the box revealing the ring sparkling under the spotlight’s bright light.  I was in tears as I was covering my face with my hands.

Everyone around me, including my kids telling me to say yes.  I nodded rapidly and kissed him with as much passion as I could muster while all around us, everyone was applauding and my kids cam around us and hugged us.

“Ladies and gentlemen we’d like to have the honor of introducing Thor himself, Chris Hemsworth and his new fiancée!” I cupped his cheeks and he kissed my forehead, down my cheek before reclaiming my lips with his.

[welllpthisishappening]

An American Haunting (1/2)

Emma Swan does not believe in ghosts. She simply talks about them on tourist-filled walking tours at Colonial Williamsburg. 

It’s a belief she’s certain she’ll always hold, until, one summer she starts hearing a voice, asking her for help. And, suddenly, every certainty Emma Swan has ever had starts to shake just a bit, a hint of history and a past that’s far more extensive than she could have imagined. 

----

Rating: Probably like a pretty solid teen Word Count: 6.4 K this chapter. Closing in on 13K overall AN: This is, hands down, the single most self indulgent thing I have ever written and one time I wrote a college basketball story that was literally just my own opinions. I grew up going to Colonial Williamsburg, have been on every ghost tour, including the one the RAs took us on when I went to HISTORY CAMP AT WILLIAM AND MARY. That happened. So, I’ve been wanting to write a story based at CW for years, but I couldn’t ever come up with something legit idea-wise and then today. Bam. BAM. i had an idea. I wrote the idea out in several hours of sunshine-fueled key smashing and here we are. Part two eventually because I really do hate spamming the internet with words. I won’t ever go in the Peyton Randolph house at night. 

Also on Ao3 if that’s how you roll. 

----

The gasps always made her smile. 

That was a very strange sentence out of context, but Emma couldn’t help the way her lips quirked up every single time, biting the side of her tongue so she wouldn’t actually laugh at the whole, stupid thing. 

He had quite a flair for the dramatic, after all. 

“Even Lafayette himself once wrote that he felt someone push against his back upon entering the house! But there was no one there. There never is. Just a feeling, that chill that creeps up your spine and takes up residence in the back of your brain, waiting for you to let your guard down.”

And…cue the gasps. 

Emma covered her mouth with her hand, fingers curling around the side of her jaw. Her eyes flickered towards the couple in front of her, still sporting their Colonial Williamsburg tickets on lanyards and the man’s ghost tour sticker was peeling off at one end. 

The woman reached for his hand. 

And Killian was wholly and entirely in his element. 

He leaned forward, a spark in his eyes that was not even remotely supernatural, but completely theatrical, the stretch of a smile moving in slow motion across his face. 

“Take a look at some of the photos you’ve been snapping this whole time,” he muttered. If he leaned forward any further his stupid tri-corner hat was going to fall off. 

Emma shifted against the side of the fence she was leaning on, tugging on her own skirts and trying to find a way to stand that didn’t end with her stupid eighteenth-century appropriate shoes digging into the back of her heels. It didn’t work. 

It never did. 

Killian wasn’t done. 

“See anything yet?” he asked lightly, a practiced spiel that always ended with—

“Oh my God, there are orbs in the photo!”

Emma rolled her eyes skyward, all stars and a few clouds and it was humid enough that her hair was actually starting to curl at the ends. Maybe she could convince Regina to let her wear a different outfit later that week. This one was impossibly heavy, all full skirts and an apron that didn’t make any sense at all because she wasn’t working in any of the kitchens on property, was leading tours from nine at night until somewhere in the realm of midnight for extra money and she was certain each group was getting smaller and smaller. 

The crowds were getting smaller and smaller. 

No one wanted to go learn about Colonial American history on their vacation. 

“That’s right,” Killian said, crossing his arms and rocking back on his own heels. Emma assumed they didn’t hurt his feet. He was still smiling. “The Peyton Randolph house is considered one of the most haunted buildings in the entire United States. Visitors since even before the first shots were fired in Lexington and Concord have claimed interactions with the supernatural. They’ve been shaken violently in their beds, heard laughter from other rooms, furniture moves—“

“—But what about the orbs?”

Emma was going to need pliers to move her hand away from her mouth. Killian uncrossed his arms, resting his weight on the replica musket he was holding. 

He was supposed to be a Colonial soldier. 

At the Randolph house while it was used as a hospital in 1781. Just about every building in Williamsburg was used as a hospital in 1781. 

It was unfairly attractive. 

Him, not the hospital thing. Emma was a psychopath. 

“Well,” Killian drawled, “that’s up for debate, isn’t it? Could be a catch of the light. Could be—“ He shrugged, eyes flicker towards Emma and she had to bite her tongue again. “Disembodied ghosts looking to find their way onto the afterlife. No one knows for certain, do they Miss Swan?”

She might have gasped. 

Killian’s smile widened. 

Idiot. 

That wasn’t part of the script at all. 

“Oh, yes, absolutely, sir,” she said quickly, trying her best to stay in character. The group turned expectantly toward her, eyes wide and that woman appeared to be gripping her husband’s hand like some kind of vice. “Lots of whispers about this house and, well, Mr. Randolph, you know, I don’t like to speak ill of such a respected gentleman, but—“

“—Is that the newspaper guy?” another voice interrupted, and Emma was going to have to have a serious conversation about Regina about that too. 

And she was just about to respond, not sure how she was going to do that while staying in character, but the words got caught in Emma’s throat, a sudden chill spreading through all of her limbs. 

She felt rooted to the spot, mouth going dry and goosebumps exploding across her skin. Her vision danced in front of her, no orbs, but something just on the edge that felt a bit like a shadow creeping across her eye line, a hopelessness that Emma was certain she could taste, like ash and disappointment and none of that made sense, but her knees suddenly felt very weak and—

Help me. Please. I need help. 

Emma didn’t hear the footsteps at first, flinching when Killian’s fingers curled around her elbow. People were gasping again. 

“Swan?” he whispered, bending his own knees so he was level with her. His thumb traced absent-minded patterns on her sleeve. They were going to get in trouble for that. “Are you alright, love?”

She nodded slowly, not sure if it was actually true or not, but the shadow was gone and that had to count for something. 

“Fine, fine. I’m—I’m fine.” “Try that again.” “Fine, sir,” Emma snapped, an abrupt return to form and characters and Killian's eyebrows leapt into his hairline. His tongue swiped the front of his teeth. 

“Just a touch of vapors, is it?” Emma scowled, resisting the very real urge to kick him in the shins, but she didn’t need Regina to yell at them for more than one thing and she really wanted to switch costumes. “The air is rather heavy tonight, sir, that’s all,” she said. “Shall we continue on to the next place, then?”

There was a general murmur of agreement and confusion from the crowd, Emma pulling her arm back to her side quickly enough that she nearly elbowed herself in the ribs. Killian’s had to pick up the musket. He’d dropped it at some point.  

“Alright,” Emma continued, backing up towards Nicholson Street, “if you’ll all be so kind as to follow me this way, our next stop takes us up the road towards the public gaol and Hangman’s Lane where, legend has it, member’s of Blackbeard’s crew were taken to the gallows.” More gasps. 

A few ooh and exactly one no way, really . Emma smiled. 

And Killian’s eyes never left hers, concern practically wafting off him and mixing in with that very specific smell that was Williamsburg in late August, like dogwood trees and sunscreen. 

He was waiting for her. 

She wasn’t all that surprised, but it was still kind of nice in a butterflies in her stomach and slightly erratic pulse kind of way and Emma had gotten a few more gasps out of the crowd. Well, Ruby had when they’d gotten to Shield’s Tavern and the story about the lady who haunted the corner room upstairs, but that felt like splitting hairs and Emma was exhausted. 

“You want to tell me what happened now?” Killian asked, legs stretched out in front of him where he was sitting. On the stairs behind the Public Armory, a few feet away from the staff rooms. 

He was already back in modern clothes, which was a little bit like playing with fire, guests still filing out of the historic area and meandering down Duke of Gloucester Street, but he had that very specific type of pinch between his eyebrows and— “No,” Emma replied. “Because nothing happened.” “You’re honestly getting worse at it.” Emma made a face. “I really don’t see how that’s possible.” “Swan.” “Yeah, what was that about? You’re just throwing out real names in this now? You better watch out or I’m going to tell Regina on you.”

“Please, the only thing you want to do when talking to Regina is tell her how annoyed you are with the overall state of your skirts.” “Oh, that’s so dumb, honestly.”

“Tell me I’m wrong,” Killian challenged. He leaned back on his elbows, another very specific type of spark in his eyes and this was really starting to become a problem. In a way where it wasn’t, obviously. Becuase he waited for her and knew her and Emma really had way too many thoughts about how good the whole Colonial outfit regularly looked on him. 

But they were going to have to tell people eventually. 

And she wasn’t sure she could cope with that. 

“It’s a lot of skirts,” Emma mumbled, a quick shrug and pitiful attempt to get around him. “C’mon, move, I’ve got to change and—”

“—What happened, Emma?” He caught her around the ankle, impressive considering the amount of fabric in the way, glancing up at her with a look that was treading somewhere between imploring and a little overwhelming. Maybe they wouldn’t have to tell anyone. 

Emma couldn’t believe people hadn’t figured it out already. 

That lady from the tour definitely knew. 

“Did it happen again?” Killian pressed, and his thumb was doing that thing again. Tracing and brushing, following a pattern that wasn’t really there, but might have been obvious for him. 

Emma swallowed. “I don’t—’ “—Swan.” “This is not a real thing,” she exclaimed, at least the forty-seventh time they’d had that particular conversation. “It’s not! I’m just—I’m tired and I’m worried about attendance and—” “—Well if management would stop sending out all those cards and things to donors, then we wouldn’t have such a problem. You see the Christmas ornament designs Regina’s been looking at yet? They’re ridiculous.” Emma sighed out something that might have been a laugh, letting Killian tug her down to his side. She burrowed her face into his chest. “It was louder this time,” she whispered. “Like it was—I don’t know, getting desperate or something.” “And you still couldn’t see anything?” “No. Just heard it. Her. Heard her and I was freezing cold again.” Killian’s hand had started moving at some point, up and down her arm and Emma got the distinct impression he was trying to account for all of her. As if some voice she’d been hearing for the better part of the summer would be able to make her disappear. 

The whole thing was, honestly, starting to get on her nerves. Emma had never been all that apt to believe in the facts she was touting on one of Colonial Williamsburg’s several official ghost tours. And while her’s was definitely the scariest of the bunch — the kid-friendly one didn’t mention hanging pirates — Emma wasn’t the kind of person to have nightmares or worry that she was being followed by some kind of frustrated spirit. 

Until. 

It started just after the Fourth of July festivities in the historic area, one of the few times when the place drew regularly crowds. Emma was sitting on the Palace Green, more ridiculous skirts and sweat pooling at the base of her spine and it had been the middle of the day. None of the stories about being haunted ever happened during the day. 

That was...against the rules or something. 

Help me. Please. I need help. 

She’d brushed it off as the heat and exhaustion, but it kept happening — the same words, the same voice, someone looking for help and Emma seemingly incapable of doing anything except getting cold when it happened. 

She was probably just going insane. 

That wasn’t really a much better option. 

“You’re ok,” he whispered, and her breath definitely hitched as soon as his lips ghosted over the top of her head. That was a bad word choice. “It’s ok.” “It’s crazy, that’s what it is.” “I don’t think you’re crazy, love. This is—” “—Oh, God, do not tell me that this is one of the most haunted places in America. Just...do not do it. I’ll punch you.” “You kind of looked like you wanted to before.”

“You like drawing out the Randolph schtick.” “Did I get the best reaction of the night?” “No.” “No?” Killian echoed, all scandalized incredulity. Emma shook her head, glancing up and he didn’t argue when her chin dug into his shirt. 

“No. Ruby got some pretty good gasps at Shield’s and David got what can only be described as as a whimper when we started at the Wren, so—” “—That doesn’t count, the Wren is proper haunted.” She made a noise in the back of her throat, not quite a disagreement, but more like innate skepticism and Killian definitely kissed the crown of her head that time. “There is no such thing as actual ghosts,” Emma said, ignoring her maybe -boyfriend’s wide-eyed stare. “There’s not. This is—we are doing this for profit and to freak out the tourists. I’m—” Emma pushed up, nearly tripping over her goddamn skirts in the process. “I’ve got to change and then I really think you owe me a milkshake for going off-script.” Killian grinned. Slowly. It was cheating. They both knew it. The ghosts Emma absolutely, positively did not believe in knew it. 

“You want to walk to Wawa or…” “Walking’s fine. Five minute?” “I’ll be here.”

 She made him buy the fried ravioli under the heat lamp at the register too. 

And Emma didn’t notice the brick sitting outside her apartment door when she got home, trudging into her room and falling asleep almost immediately, Killian’s arm curled around her middle. 

 “Ok, do not freak out.” Emma looked up, her phone in one hand and a half-finished cup of lukewarm coffee sitting a few inches away from her. She winced.

Ruby had that look on her face. 

And Mary Margaret wasn’t far behind. 

Which meant David was— “Where’s David?” Emma asked. 

Ruby stopped in her tracks. “What kind of question is that?” “Usually these kinds of conversations also include David and I just don’t want to have to repeat ourselves when he gets here. I’ve got to be at—” She glanced at the schedule hanging on the far wall. “Tarpley’s this afternoon.” It was apparently Mary Margaret’s turn to freeze. Her eyes bugged, lips popping audibly. “You have to work at Tarpley’s today? Oh, Emma you can’t go.” “Excuse me?” “You seriously can’t go there, Em,” Ruby said, hooking her foot around an open chair and dropping down in a small cloud of fabric. “Where’s Regina? You’ve got to tell her.” “Is there a reason I have to tell our boss that I can’t go where I’m scheduled? Honestly, Tarpley’s is the easiest gig out there. I barely have to remember any facts, just for the few kids that come in with that’s—what’s the name of that thing they’re doing this summer?” “—Kid’s in Liberty,” Mary Margaret answered. Her eyes hadn’t returned to their normal size. “That’s a garbage name, isn’t it?” “Emma, I am not kidding around here,” Ruby hissed. She leaned forward, tugging Emma’s phone out of her hand and ignoring any objection. “This is a big deal and—Tarpley’s is crazy haunted, you know that.”

Emma groaned. Loudly. And slid down her chair. It hurt her spine. “Are you kidding me? Ok, who did he tell?” “You mean your boyfriend?” “Killian is not my boyfriend.” “Yeah?” Ruby grinned. “Tell that to how worried he was about you this morning. Becuase he, how would you describe it M’s?” Mary Margaret still didn’t look entirely confident, but Emma knew she couldn’t pass up a good romance either and secret dating in the middle of a vaguely popular tourist destination certainly fit the bill. “Something about a whirlwind,” she muttered. “And he told David. David just—” “—Can’t exist without telling you things?” Emma finished. 

“Basically. Why didn’t you tell us you were hearing things?” “Oh my God, I am not hearing things! That’s—I’m just tired and...hallucinating?” “I’m going to be honest, Em, that is not great either,” Ruby pointed out. She took a sip of Emma’s coffee, sticking her tongue out when the temperature was wrong. 

“Get your own coffee then,” Emma sneered. “Ok, ok, so I’m just...listen, this is not a big deal.” Mary Margaret’s eyes were never going to recover. “It’s not! Because it’s not a real thing. There are not actually ghosts in Williamsburg. It’s an old place with old stories and—” “—Ghosts,” David said, appearing in the doorway with a bag of Raleigh Bakery goods in his hand. “I refuse to take responsibility for any of this. Your boyfriend—” “—Come on—” “—Found me before his shift started at the blacksmith, which is where he is by the way now, Em, if you’re planning on killing him before work, and wanted to know if there were any stories we don’t use on the ghost tours. Specifically about a woman looking for help.” Emma lifted her eyebrows. “And?” “And nothing. I can’t find anything.” “Did you look real hard, then?” Ruby asked knowingly. 

“Maybe not real hard,” David admitted. “But we pretty much cover our bases on all the tours. I mean you can ask Regina if you want to, but…” “No,” Emma cried. Her voice cracked on both letters, another less-than-good thing, but she was bouncing between emotions so quickly she kind of felt like a ping pong ball. Or that stupid game with the string and the stick and none of the kids who bought it could ever do it right. “We are not telling anyone about any of this because—” She cut herself off when she heard the first clack of heels, Regina walking into the room with a stack of papers on her hip and bags under her eyes that looked deeper every time Emma saw her. “What are you doing in here?” Regina asked. “Emma, you’re supposed to be opening Tarpley’s five minutes ago.” “Yeah, that’s not how time works. I’m going, I’m going. I’m—” Regina blinked. “Yeah?” “Nothing, I’m fine. Everything is fine.” 

She looked around, as if she were challenging the rest of the room to contradict her and none of them said a word. “Let’s help the tourists learn something, huh?”

She made it through the day. 

No ghost. No voices. 

Just a day filled with overheated families and kids dressed in Colonial garb, more than a few obvious retirees sporting their own tri-corner hats because, for reasons Emma could never understand, that was apparently something people wanted to do. 

She sold replicas of the Declaration and the Constitution, tiny books that reprinted George Washington’s Rules of Civility and Thomas Paines’ Common Sense. And soap. So much soap. People who came to Colonial Williamsburg loved buying soap in bulk and a variety of scents. Lemon, lavender, bayberry. 

All of them. 

Emma’s hands reeked of the scents when she locked the door to Tarpley’s behind her. She didn’t have any extra ghost shifts that night, but she knew Killian was back at the Randolph house and, well—she did like when the crowd gasped. 

So she didn’t consider changing or even going back to the employee rooms, hiking up her skirts and heading towards the palace green and, really, she should have expected it all to go to shit.

The first gust of wind wasn’t much more than a soft breeze, but then the dirt blew up against her ankles and Emma felt like someone had strapped a very strong, nearly indestructible steel pipe to her back. 

Her spine straightened, mouth falling open like something was actually trying to yank the air out of her lungs. She tensed, the lump in the back of her throat making it impossible for Emma to swallow the way she wanted to. 

She tried to lick her lips, but even that was too much movement, shadows extending out from the Governor’s Palace in front of her and whatever sound she heard would probably echo in the back of her consciousness for the rest of her life. 

It wasn’t human. 

That much she knew. 

It sounded like it was coming from an impossible distance and right in front of her, all at the same time, a shrill wail filled with despair and fury and something else just on the edge that felt a hell of a lot like determination. 

And if she hadn’t seen it with her own eyes, Emma would have sworn it was a dream. 

But she was awake and, somehow, still standing there, knees locked into place with what she could only described as awe and bone-rattling fear. Because there was someone running towards her. 

A woman. 

She was dressed exquisitely, a soft yellow fabric that ballooned around her when she ran. There were tears on her cheeks, streaks of kohl and a softness to her mouth that made Emma want to strangle whoever had done this. Several times over. She didn’t slow down, even as she got closer to Emma, a haziness around her that made it obvious she wasn’t entirely there. 

Her shoes clacked on the cobblestone street, sniffling every few moments and Emma couldn’t blink if she tried. 

She followed the woman as she continued forward, head on a swivel and her own breathing turning erratic. The woman’s shoulders heaved, until something changed, abruptly and suddenly, and her gaze snapped directly towards Emma, eyes boring into what genuinely felt like her soul and that steel whatever got even stronger. 

Emma stood up straighter, not sure what was happening, only that it was important and— “You have to help me,” the woman said, voice sounding like it was coming from underwater. “What he did. What he—tried to change. It’s not right.” Emma blinked. Once, twice, three times. “This is a dream. This is a dream. This is a dream,” she chanted, pinching up her arm like that 

would get her to wake up. It didn’t. She wasn’t asleep. 

The woman shook her head slowly. She didn’t take a step forward. That was probably for the best, Emma wasn’t sure what she would do if that happened. “You can help,” she said instead, “make sure the truth is known, what I—what we did. You can make sure it doesn’t happen again. He’s trying. Now. Please. Help me.” Emma didn’t respond. 

And eventually, when she stopped to think of everything that happened that night, how it changed the scope of anything that happened after, she would always regret that just a bit. 

The woman took a deep breath. 

Impressive, since, by all accounts, she was a ghost. 

“Please,” she repeated softly before turning on her heels and floating straight through the front door of the Wythe House. 

She left her right heel on the ground, the sight flickering for a moment, like it was clinging to this plane of existence and Emma couldn’t pull her eyes away. Until. One more burst of light, another sharp wail and— Emma didn’t remember her knees giving out, just a pair of hands around her shoulders and mumbled words in her ear, kisses peppered to every bit of skin he could reach and the goddamn musket was a few feet away. 

“Swan, Swan, Emma, look at me, love, c’mon, I need you to actually show that you’re breathing.”

She didn’t say anything. Again. That was becoming a quickly frustrating habit of hers. 

“Emma,” Killian sighed, only slight frustration. The rest was obvious fear and— “How did you get over here?” she asked. “That’s...aren’t you Randolph’ing tonight?” “Did you just use the family name as a verb?” “Am I awake right now?” Killian kissed her again — just between her brows. “Yeah, you are, love. And I...I don’t know how I knew. I just—” He swallowed, tongue darting towards lips that shouldn’t have been that distracting. All things considered. “I could feel it.” Emma jerked her head back, the condensation from the grass seeping through her skirts. Regina was going to yell about that. Loudly. Incessantly. “Wait, what?”

“It doesn’t make any sense, but—” “—I think I saw a ghost.” To his credit, Killian didn’t laugh. He didn’t really do anything, which was also pretty understandable, but Emma was teetering right on the edge of a complete breakdown and she kind of wanted him to kiss her some more. 

If only to prove this was real. 

“When?” “Just now,” Emma whispered. “She was...she came out of the palace. All fancy dress and she was crying and she said...she said I could help?” “You think it was the same woman? The one who was asking for help before?”

“If there’s more than one ghost involved in this, I will scream very loudly.” That got him to laugh. Killian ducked his head, lips catching Emma’s, and it was over before it really began, which was probably for the best, but she was greedy and dealing with ghosts and her knees were very damp. So she wanted to kiss him. 

For several interrupted minutes. 

No ghosts allowed. 

“Was there anything else?” Killian asked. “I mean she didn’t introduce herself, I’d imagine.” “No, the ghost and I did not exchange pleasantries.” “I’ve never heard of a haunting on the Place Green, that’s…”

“What you asked David about?” Killian blushed, the spots of color on his cheek obvious even under the dim lighting of now-electrical lamps around them. “I was worried,” he said softly. “About—” “—Me?” “Quite a bit, yeah.” “You could feel it?” Emma asked. “Feel what, exactly?”

“I don’t know how to explain it...it was like—like I could feel this tug in the pit of my stomach and I knew it didn’t want me, specifically, but it was like everything that I’ve ever felt for you was disappearing. Like you were…” “Disappearing?” “It sounds crazy, I know.” “I just saw a crying ghost leave her shoe on the grass, so. You know, comparatively.” “She left her shoe?” “Technically,” Emma nodded. “It was a ghost shoe, so it’s not there anymore. But it was silk, I think. Pink.” Killian narrowed his eyes, gears almost turning audibly in his head. He pressed the tip of his tongue to the corner of his mouth. “That’s something, love. What do you say to a little bit of research tomorrow afternoon?”

The Wren Building and the Wren Library were two different places on the campus of William and Mary, a fact that always inexplicably annoyed Emma. But the campus of William and Mary was also absurdly old and, if the stories were true, haunted in several different places and Thomas Jefferson went there, so Emma also figured it was the prerogative of said campus to be frustrating if it wanted. 

She’d already lost track of how long she and Killian had been there, tucked into a corner of the Library, not the Building, with half a dozen stacks of books around them and David’s promise that he’d sneak them ginger cookies from Raleigh at some point. 

“This is pointless,” Emma said, slamming another book closed and ignoring the look of reproach on Killian’s face. He was very worried about offending the books. 

Or possibly the ghosts. 

She hadn’t slept very well the night before. 

“We’re just not looking in the right books, Swan.” “Babe, we are—” She nearly swallowed her tongue. And Killian didn’t tense so much as he smirked at her, which was really, patently stupid when they were also researching ghosts, but maybe boyfriend sounded kind of good, if not just a little antiquated and— “Oh, don’t do that,” Emma mumbled, but that only gave the smirk more power. 

Clap if you believe in using relationship qualifiers. 

That was an out of place reference. “You were saying, love,” Killian drawled, propping his head on his hand. Emma rolled her eyes. 

“We’ll circle back around to that.” “Will we just?”

“Tell me the most out of left field Revolutionary War fact you know.”

“And that will help us how?” “It’ll distract me from finding absolutely nothing about some lady in a yellow dress that, in all likelihood did not exist,” Emma explained, the smirk turning into something that looked a little more genuine. Killian’s chair squeaked when he pushed out of it, in her space in three quick strides and he didn’t react to whatever sound she made when he tugged her up only to pull her back onto his legs. 

He hooked his chin over her shoulder. 

“The Continental Congress tried to replace Washington at one point. When things were at their worst, before Saratoga and the French showed. Lost some of that faith him. You know he didn’t have a picture-perfect military record—” “—Starting the French and Indian War will probably do that to you.” “Ok, it wasn’t Washington specifically.” “It helped,” Emma argued. “And this is really not a lesser-known fact. I also have a degree, you know. Plus the colonists won at Saratoga and Benedict Arnold was a good guy for a while and—” “—the French showed up,” Killian said. “We’re making the same point here, love.” She huffed, equal parts frustration and exhaustion. “The woman didn’t have any other defining characteristics? I’m just...I’m trying to time her.” “Like her 40 up the Palace Green?” He nipped behind her ear, leaving Emma squirming on his lap and they were going to get kicked out of the Library. She hoped David showed up with the cookies before that. “It just doesn’t make sense,” Killian mused. “Once the royal governor left the colony there wasn’t anything at the Palace that would warrant a dress. It was a hospital. That’s—” “—Oh, if you say it’s haunted, I’ll strangle you.” “That’s not romantic at all, Swan.” “And that’s not a disagreement. I know the story, anyway. Used as a hospital during the Siege of Yorktown and French soldiers died there and now kids at the College jump the wall and see apparitions or whatever.” “Have you ever done it?” “Once,” Emma answered, appreciating the look that elicited. “When I first started here. It was Ruby’s idea, obviously. So I went with her and David and M’s. But nothing happened. No ghosts, no weird voices asking me for help. No lady disappearing into the Wythe House.”

Killian jerked back. “Wait, what?” “Did I not mention that yesterday?” He shook his head slowly, the muscles in his throat moving when he swallowed. The lights above them flickered. “Spooky,” Emma muttered, gritting her teeth when Killian pinched her side. “God, stop that. So, yeah, that happened too. She lost her shoe and then kind of...melted through the door, but that’s—that’s not a clue. George Wythe was a really important guy. He had hundreds of people staying with him.” “During the war, though? That would have put him in Philadelphia.” “So he was ahead of his time and came up with a colonial Airbnb.” “Swan.” “I’ve never heard of a ghost story at the Wythe house.” “I have,” David said, and Emma wished he’d stop showing up like that. It was doing damage to her pulse. 

And Killian’s, apparently. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” he growled. The arm around Emma’s waist noticeably tightened. David’s eyebrows lifted. 

“Cookies. And information you can use.” “I thought you said you’d never heard about a woman asking for help,” Emma said, well aware that it sounded exactly like the accusation it was. 

“That’s true, I haven’t. But I have heard about a woman haunting the Wythe house, or at least its staircase and,” he clicked his tongue, squeezing one eye shut in thought, “possibly the upstairs bedroom too.” “God, get to the point.” “The story goes that a woman had been attending an event at the Palace—very Colonial Army, strategizing and—” “—A woman?” Emma interrupted sharply. David glared. She ignored that. “I know, I know. That’s...I’m just—for real?” “Again, the story goes that she was well respected and well married. Her husband had been big money in London, came to the colonies to expand the empire or whatever and ran in close circles with both Washington and the Marquis.” “Lafayette?” “You know another one?” “Give me the goddamn cookies, David.” He chuckled, another step into the room and he’d bought cornbread too. “Do you know what anniversary we’re closing in on?” 

Emma was going to scream. It was going to be dramatic and emotional and college kids would very likely talk in hushed whispers about the Wren Library Incident for years to come. Only, she never got the chance. Killian was talking. 

“The Comte de Grasse showed up in Yorktown. The beginning of the end of the Revolutionary War.” “Ding, ding, ding,” David nodded. “And according to the story some of the plans for the blockade of the Chesapeake that the Comte staged were drafted in a small room outside of the Governor’s Palace. Out by the gardens in the back.” “Where the hospital was?” Emma asked, and David was starting to look a bit like a bobblehead. “Ding. Again. The story goes that the woman was there with her husband, a man named Robert Gold and—don’t make fun of the name, I am not in the mood.” Emma mimed zipping her lips closed. Killian kissed the curve of her shoulder. “Anyway, no one knows why, but something happened in that last meeting and the woman she ran out, not a trace of her ever seen again, except, at midnight, when the sound of one heeled shoe can be heard walking up the stairs in the Wythe House.”

Emma had to look down to make sure her heart had not, in fact, fallen on the floor. She was having trouble breathing. But whether that was from the state of her lungs or just how tightly Killian’s arm was holding her was probably a debate even a group of revolutionaries outside the Governor’s Palace wouldn’t have been able to decide. 

“Shit,” she breathed. “One shoe, David? You’re sure?” “Is that important?” Emma didn’t answer him. She twisted, meeting Killian’s gaze and the tip of his tongue was back in the corner of his mouth. “What do you think?” “I think I have several thousand questions I didn’t have before.” “So list ‘em out.” He kissed her before he said anything else. That was nice. David groaned. 

“Possibly lesser-known Revolutionary fact,” Killian started, “but Washington had two options in 1780. The French were trying to get some support from the French West Indies, but that wasn’t guaranteed and Washington needed to do something drastic to make a move on the British. So he could either follow de Grasse to the Chesapeake or try and recapture New York.” “I mean obviously they didn’t recapture New York.” Killian shook his head. “No, they didn’t. Rochambeau advised them this way because he heard the British were building a deep-water port in Yorktown. And it wasn’t quite a last-ditch effort, but trying to contain Cornwallis down here was...an almost unheard of tactic. A lot of things had to go right and there was a certain amount of subterfuge to it. Washington and Lafayette both engaged British troops to make it seem like they were going for New York.” And it only took her a few seconds to understand. 

The light above them definitely got brighter. “You think he had help,” Emma said, stabbing her finger into Killian’s chest. He caught her around the wrist. “Someone here. Whoever told Rochambeau.” Killian nodded. “I do.” “You think it was Robert Gold?” “Why would someone with deep pockets in London be at a meeting of the minds just months before the British surrender?” Emma’s head was spinning. And racing. And possibly tripping over things. She was very glad she was sitting down. “But what about this woman?” David pressed through a mouthful of cookie. “Why would she run out of a meeting if her husband was helping the colonists? Unless she didn’t want that?” “No, that’s not right,” Emma said quickly. She blinked at the sudden certainty to her voice, as if it wasn’t hers at all, and she really wished her mouth would stop going dry so often. Killian tilted his head. “I don’t—David, do not react to this—she told me that he was trying to do it again. That’s got to be the husband, right?” Killian shrugged.

“Ok, that’s not helpful at all.” “Hold on, hold on,” David cut in. “We’re still talking about Emma’s ghost? Em, did you see someone? Here?” “Not here specifically.” “Oh my God.” “She said that exactly, Swan?” Killian asked. “Again?” 

“Seems important, right?” He hummed, tongue swiping in front of his teeth. She needed to stop looking at his tongue. “America won,” Killian muttered. “That...it all worked the way it was supposed to, eventually, but the road to Yorktown wasn’t great. There were a dozen instances where Washington could have lost control and—” “—These sound a hell of a lot like questions only the woman can answer.”

“No.” “Excuse me?” “I know what you’re thinking Swan and absolutely not.” “Ok, first of all, you are not a mind-reader, so jot that down. And second of all, that’s ridiculous. You are the one who is constantly talking about ghosts and—” Emma cut herself off. She couldn’t help it. Because the look on his face wasn’t one she’d ever seen before and she wasn’t entirely sure she ever wanted to see it again. 

She leaned forward, both hands on Killian’s cheeks. He kissed the inside of her left wrist. David didn’t make any noise. “I don’t know why this is happening,” Emma whispered. “But it is. And it’s...I can hear this woman and I saw her last night and she needs—if I can help her, then I’m going to.” Killian took a deep breath. “I know, Swan. But I’ll be damned if you do it by yourself.”

“Well, this is very romantic and absolutely lovely, but, uh, you guys are both idiots if you think I’m not going too,” David said. 

Emma nearly fell off Killian’s leg. “Are you kidding me?” “Are you? I was the one who knew the story, Em. Plus, something about this just...it feels off, you know?” “The ghosts weren’t a clue?” “You’re using humor to deflect and that’s fair, but I can also get the key for the Wythe house from Locksley. So.” “Fine,” she groused, only faking the irritation a little. “What time would you like to commune with the dead?”