#something that i might not ever finish properly so i figured better to post it then not lol

[dresbers]

(npc from my MOTW game, a PC's twin brother, after being held captive for three years)

[supercriminalbean]

Hope you're having a good day/night

I was wondering if I could request Hotch x Male reader, the team get a case that leads back to an old unsolved case of a group of children going missing and start showing up dead at different ages from sever injuries from fighting(?)

Reader is part of the bau but has alot of secrets to hide including being one of the younger children that went missing and managed to escape but not without physical and emotional scars (being forced to play a cruel game of survival of the fittest for the entertainment of the Unsub who streamed the gruesome cruelty)

Maybe the unsub captures reader cause he was the one that got away and the team start to peice together reader was one of the missing kids by how fast reader state of mind went to a primal kill or die (like readers afraid he'll die there and no one will ever find him or know or care so when they do he's relived and breaks down but another part of him think he doesn't deserve it cause of what he's done to survive)

Hotch being there for reader

FIGHT CLUB

Aaron Hotchner x Male!Reader.

Summary: The reader is trying to find the group that ruin his life, but keeping it a secret from his team is differcult when he has to ask them for help.

Warning: Dark fic. Blood, fighting, death, abuse, kidnapping, swearing, drugs, unsub violence, bad eatting habits, bad self care, scars, angst. This whole fic is just dark and strange the ask it self is amazing and may help you know if this is something you can handle. (Any other warnings let me know xx)

Words: 9.4k

A/N: Hiiii! Omg this ask 😍😍 I love you!! I had to split this into a couple different parts due to I'm up to 12k words and got so much more i wanna add to it right now. Next part will be posted next week (hopefully!!) I just couldn't wait to post this. I did change it a little and hope this is what you were after. 🖤🖤 thank you for the request my love.

Part two. Part three. Part four.

Another body has shown up, and if you're right another kid will go missing in just a couple hours a few towns over from the latest body. You know it's just a matter of time as you read the article, one that barely has any information of the latest victim found, another teen boy. While the article prints out you give the detective on the case a call, you know you shouldn't, you should just let this go until your team is called in properly. But hey, there is no harm in asking innocent questions, is there? 

“Hello, this is Detective Rose,” An older man answers.

“Hello Detective, I'm with the FBI, SSA agent (Y/L) from the Bau unit” Your voice comes out sharp as you hold back the emotions swirling in your mind. If this is the group you believe it is, you're going to have to bring your team in, but no way could they know just how long you have been looking for them.

“Oh Agent, how can I help?” The man's voice is filled with confusion.

“I heard you found a body of a teenage boy, I read in the report he was badly injured and a 

John doe, look I think he might be connected to a case I'm working and I need you to send me all the information and photos of this boy you have as soon as you can” You don’t have time to explain to him, nor the patience.

“Case, but there's only one body?” There's a small arrogance laying under his tone as he speaks his next words. “Plus he seems to be a runaway, he doesn’t seem like the type anyone would be after”

“Excuse me” You can’t help but sneer into the phone, anger filling you up. “How dare you, he is a child, someone has to be missing him and even if not he deserves justice, so I figure you better send me what I asked for before I called your boss” Venom seems to drip from your words as your grip the phone like your life depends on it. Silence fills the other end and your patience seems to dry up, opening your mouth to send him another order when he finally speaks up again.

“Of course we don’t need that, files and photos have been sent, reach out again if I —” You hang up before he finishes speaking, you don’t need anything more from him. 

~~~

Sitting on your couch, your mind spinning as you go through the new photos of the crime scene you have received. This is it, this is them, no doubt about it. He fits the victimology, he’s the right age, fit and covered in so many cuts and bruises it’s impossible to see his face. What makes your heart drop the most is the cut on his left forearm, two other previous victims also had it. You know how they got it, hell you got one quite similar to it. Which means you know where they are being kept and where they are going next which means it's time to bring your team in. Grabbing the pile of older files, ones that you have collected over the years, pulling the top few files off the top for the team to see, placing the older ones at the bottom of your to go bag. You can’t let your team know just how long you have been investigating this case. If you do things could unravel and your past could be exposed, the one thing that could never happen, because if it does you might not have a job any more. 

Your phone starts dinging, your alarm going off. Great you pulled another all nighter, something you have been warned against many times in the past month. 

~~~

Hotch has been on your ass a lot lately about looking after yourself, he’s the only one who can tell when you're struggling. Maybe that's why you're having a hard time figuring out how to bring this case to him. You know he’s going to know this isn’t just a regular case for you, you might be good at hiding your personal life and emotions from the team but that doesn’t include Aaron. You're not sure how you grew close to your boss, you two have hangout, outside of work many times, even including getting to know Jack and spending many weekends watching his soccer games, and of course getting ice cream afterwards as a reward. Somehow Aaron managed to get you to join them both for movie nights and your friendship has never been stronger than that night. But then you had to go and ruin it, pulling yourself away from him, when things started feeling real. You started feeling like you belong and not just with him, but with the team you're surrounded by. Belonging somewhere is something you have never felt before and it's terrifying, so you pull away from them all. Space is a good thing plus there were only a few reasons you took this job a few years ago and you need to remember that.

~~~

You're the first one at the office that morning, even beating Hotch to the office for once. You wait at your desk, your desk is different from the others. They all have personal items on their desk, things that make their desk seem more welcoming and comforting. Except yours, its fill of paperwork and a small fake desk plant that Garcia placed there one day that you just didn’t have the heart to move. Aaron arrives not long after you. Aaron stops by the glass door when he spots you, and he’s glad you're facing the other way so he can just watch you for a moment. He can’t help but feel something is wrong, the last few weeks you have been more off than normal. You're someone who keeps to themself and he knows that, maybe that's why he was surprised when you were spending a lot of your time with him and Jack. Not that he minded at all, he loves spending time with you, maybe more than a boss should but he shouldn’t be blamed when it comes to you, you're different. But when he was spending time with you, he managed to figure out your tell, and how you go inside your own mind when things aren’t right. Maybe that's why, even when you started putting more distance between you both, he couldn't help but remind you to get some sleep or remind you to eat, the two things you always seem to forget about. Aaron lets out a small breath, preparing himself for whatever the reason is that you're the first one here. The glass doors open and within a second you're spinning around in your chair, and the first thing Aaron notices is the files in your hands and then the bags underneath your determined eyes.

“Good Morning Hotch” Your voice is full of energy, which he can only put down to the empty coffee cup beside you.

“Morning, you’re here early” Aaron stares at you questionably, raising his eyebrow when you don’t respond.  “Is there a reason why?”

“I need to talk to you, it's important” You jump up quickly, meeting him in the middle of the room.

“Alright, my office then” He bites back a sigh as you nod enthusiastically, climbing up the stairs before him. He can’t help himself but compare you to a puppy, one who uses up all their energy but still refuses to back down when it's time to rest. He’s waiting for you to burn out, it may have been three years with you on the team, but he can’t help but wait for you to break. He doesn’t understand how anyone could keep going at the pace you do without any consequences.

~~~

You both enter his office, Aaron places his bag down before taking a seat at his desk, signalling you to do the same, so you do.

“Okay so I found—” You can’t help but start, holding your own homemade files,your leg bouncing as you speak.

“Stop” Hotch holds his hand up to silence you, dread fills your eyes as you do. “Did you sleep last night?” Accusation dripping from his words, his stern stare digging straight into your sole, making a strange shiver roll down your spine.

“That's not important” The confidence seems to slip by as he stares at you longer, you can’t help but sink in your chair, the uncomfortableness just making you want to run.

“But it is, I need to know my agents are looking after themself” Aaron holds back the proper lectures he wants to give you. Sometimes he wonders how you managed to become a full functioning adult with the way you treat your body, running yourself so low he wonders how you're alive at all.

“I look after myself perfectly fine Aaron” You have to physically bite your tongue to hold back the taunt you want to say instead, but you need him to listen to you instead.

“Do you, because you didn’t sleep last night, and can you even tell me the last time you ate something homemade?” 

“Last night” Smirking cockily at him, you indeed did make something last night so he can suck it.

“It doesn’t count if it was your usual cheese on toast” Aaron smirks as yours slowly disappears. 

“Okay, uncalled for Hotch” Grumbling as you place the files down before crossing your arms. “Look I get it, I need to improve, but I need your help on something much more important, please?” Your mask starts dropping, the fear and doubtfulness visible for just a few seconds, before you pull yourself together again, your face hardening up again.

~~~

“Tell me what this is?” Hotch reaches for the files, the pile alot bigger than he first thought it was.

“Someone is kidnapping teenages all over the country, and just hours surrounded the kidnapping another teenage is found dead a few towns over from the new victim, I have found about seven different cases over the course of 18 months so far, but the dead victims are never the ones from the recent kidnappings, they look older almost like they could have been kidnapped years prior maybe, they all have the same marks all over their body, the victimology is the same” You take a deep breath as Hotch flicks throughs the file. “The ones being taken are either from abusive households or already living on the street, they aim for the ones who are strong but not confident, they seem to find the quiet ones are go after them, but they are quick, they don’t leave much room for the kids to escape, they move fast” Your words seem to run from your mouth, the rush to get out of your mind and into Aarons ear makes you forget to breathe. The urgency is great and he just doesn't understand. 

“You keep saying they” Hotch looks up the files, his boss face activated, his lips pursed together. His eyes burn into you once more, you have to do everything in your power to not physically respond to that call out, unfortunately your body straightens up, your throat clutching. 

“I believe it has to be at least two unsubs if not more, and one of them could possibly be a woman” You take a deeper breath as your heart starts to pace, your mind screaming at you to stop as Aaron's eyes narrow more.

“And why do you think that?”

“Because they're fast, they move around the country, and according to the autopsy the kids are well nutritious, they cause of death is mainly blood lose, or hits to the head, I think—-” You quickly cut yourself off. No you can’t say that, you can’t let that detail out quite yet, he won’t understand, no one will understand not yet. “I think they must be keeping them somewhere safe before they dispose of them” You change the words that almost slip out quickly, but not fast enough for Hotch to not notice. Hotch watches you closely as you grow quiet, waiting for his response. Your leg bouncing as your nails dig into your arms, your eyes begging him to say something, just anything.

“What do you think they are doing to them if they are keeping them for so long then?” His question is innocent enough, but oh lord. Your stomach is now on fire, your eyes darken with anger as you speak.

“Training them to fight each other, fight to the death and then they keep the strong ones for who knows what” Oh but you know, oh you know too well what they are keeping them for and that makes you want to be sick. 

~~~

Silence fills the office as he stares at you, the anger that fills your eyes is something he hasn’t seen before, and he has seen you angry. But this is different, this is almost a murderous glaze in your eyes, something that makes Aaron uncomfortable. 

He knows what he has to do, even if he doesn’t like it. 

“How long have you been investigating this, how did you manage to get all of this information?” His voice is low as he speaks, his words filling with disappointment as he speaks.

“A few months” A lie, you both know that. But Aaron knows better than to question that right now, the can of worms that could open could be too hard to close.

“Why are you just bringing this to me now?” His voice raises, the disappointment sweeping out. “You should of came to me as soon as you saw a pattern forming” 

“I know I should have, but I wanted to see if I was right, maybe see if I could find any clues before bringing the team into a goose chase” You try to reason with him, gulping as if you know what you have to say. “I think I found them, and if I'm right another person was taken last night and I have a feeling that another body will be found near the state line of Nebraska and Wyoming, we need to take this case, we need to save them” A shaky breath leaves you as you lean forward, placing your hands on the desk, your eyes pleading. 

“Aar, please trust me on this” Gulping thickly as you see his eye flash with something unreadable as you say his old nickname, one you haven’t used in months.

“I need to make a few phone calls” He looks away from you as he picks up the phone. Standing up you smile slightly at him, thanking him quietly as you make your way out. 

~~~

The team soon arrives within the hour, where hotch is up in his office on the phone the whole time. Your body is on edge, sipping on your third cup of coffee as your mind runs. The team all stood around, talking and laughing as they usually do. Of course they try to get you to join in, but with one glance at you, they know this morning is not the time to get you to join in with them. It's Dave that talks to you this morning, his eyes couldn’t help but keep drifting to you as the team standing around teasing Reid and his crosswords. 

“Hey kiddo” Dave stands in front of you, pulling you from your mind, and mainly your eyes off Aarons offices.

“Ah, Morning Sir” Forcing a small smile as you do your best to focus on him, and not whatever conversation is going on inside the office right now.

“How many times have I told you Rossi, or Dave is fine? '' He smile’s down at you, hating to see the bags underneath your eyes, or the fresh scratch mask around your wrist. You wear long sleeves half the time, but that doesn’t stop the team from seeing the way your scratch at your arms when you get overwhelmed. 

“Right sorry” Pushing a small chuckle out, as you give him a weak smile. “My bad”

“It's okay, are you doing alright?” Rossi looks down at you worriedly, you weren’t the most talkative but right now you don’t even seem to know how to be your regular self.

“Fine si– Rossi” Your body tenses at the slip up, your eyes flicker back up to Aaron's office.

“Alright, if you ever need to talk kiddo you know I'm around” He smiles at you, one that's full of concern. A part of him wants to reach out, place a hand on your shoulder so you get the message, but he knows it won’t work with you. You don’t react well to physical touch, you jump when someone gets too close. The team remembers the first time Garica tried to give you a hug, you jumped back, hiding behind Morgan who was closest to you in that moment. She touched your shoulders, and you have never moved so fast, your body tensing your hands rolling into fist. You apologised as soon as you calmed down, you gave them no reasoning as to why. But they understood and no one has tried to touch you since, they even became your human shields when random people would try to hug you as a thank you. You were extremely grateful for that, it's been like that for three years now and still no one asks you why and you owe them so much for that.

~~~

Hotch finally emerges from his office after another hour, a sour look plastered across his face, and when you catch his eyes you know why. They found the body. 

“We got a case” Hotch calls out to his team, everyone's head shoots up to him. A deep unnerving tension seems to fill the room due to the seriousness on his face, and the way his eyes never leave yours. The air seems to leave your lungs as you stand up, grabbing your notebook off your desk before following the team into the conference room. Hotch waits by the door as the team walks in, placing his hand up in front of you to stop you. 

“One moment” His voice is low as he speaks, not wishing for the team to overhear.

“We found two bodies, one of them is Jason Ducan” Aaron speaks softly, as he watches your face flicker with recognition at that name. 

“They found a body” You stare up at him, your eyes now empty of emotions, putting them on the backboard as you prepare for this case.

“Jason Ducan, he was my first missing kid when I worked here” Your breathing hitches as fear flashes through your mind, doing your best to keep your poker face on. Do they know where you work, have they been keeping tabs on you for the last three years? Or maybe they never stop keeping tabs on you. 

“He doesn’t fit the profile, he was seven, from a good family. He was too young there is no way they would take someone from a family like that, it would be too difficult” Your mind spins as you speak, your words speeding up, slipping over each other in a hurry. Hotch hates the far away look that creeps into your eyes, almost more than he hates the numbness that dominates inside you. Taking a deep breath, hoping he doesn’t make it worse, Aaron slowly reaches out to you, placing his hand gently on your shoulder. You flinch sharply, your eyes narrowing on his hand, on his familiar touch. Aaron is the only one allowed to touch you, and only at certain times, only when you're ready for it, and normally you welcome his touch. Today is not the day you welcome it, his touch feels like fire, it sends painful memories of your past through your mind. 

“Don’t” Your voice is low and full of danger, a shaky breath follows as he doesnt let go immediately. 

“You need to tell me if this case gets too much, okay” Aaron words hold no judgement as he lets you go and just like he expected you stroll straight past him, anger radiating off you, as you fall into the chair beside Morgan.

~~~

Hotch starts the briefing, grabbing the team's attention with your homemade files. He informs them of everything you had told him that morning, minus your theories. 

“So you made these files?” It was Morgan who asked the question. The one thing that had confused the whole team, because this screamed to them as an off the books case, something Hotch would never do. 

“No I did” You speak up, leaning forward. You almost feel bored as Hotch gives the team the basic information, information you have been sitting on for many years. Everyone's heads turn straight to you, curiosity and surprised looks all over them. The quiet one who normally seems to keep to themself, is investigating a crime alone, and somehow convince Hotch to make it a real case. Oh you could feel the questions and doubt spreading throughout the room, and all you do is smirk at them as you lean forward.

“I didn’t think much of it at first, but something didn’t feel right so once I saw a second body drop in the same way. I started investigating a bit more, but I was always weeks behind, so in my time of hoping for new leads I went back and searched months back trying to find anything” You give them a brief explanation, making sure you don’t make eye contact with anyone, not needing to lose your nerve right now. The room stays quiet, giving you the confidence to keep talking, so taking a deep calming breath you continue. 

“After I got an alert last night of a kid going missing, I knew it was them. Conor Blue, he fits the description that the unsubs go after. He’s between the age of Nine and fourteen, he came from an abusive household and he’s into sports which isn’t always a go to, but something I see they prefer” You speak slower than this morning, remembering to breathe as you do. Hotch might be hard to convince, but making sure the whole team has your back on this case, is something you didn’t think through. You needed their help, because without the team, you can’t get close enough to get rid of them for good.

“How long have you been looking into this?” Emily asks, looking over at you with concern. She can see ghosts in your eyes, and whatever answer you give her, she’s not going to believe you. 

“About four months” Your lie is solided, you know that, you made sure all the files you gave them only look that old. Even if they have older information inside you can say it's from research. 

“He came to me this morning, and I have been on the phone with a few detectives” Aaron glances at you as he says that, your stomach drops. He knows you used your FBI statues to gather information you weren’t supposed to have, opps. “And It seems to be happening all over the country, so we need to make a fast move on this case, two new bodies were discovered this morning” Hotch continues, the team watches you instead of Hotch. They all notice the tense look on your face, the way your eyes darken, your lips tightening as a way to stop yourself from interrupting the boss. Photos pop up on the screen as Hotch keeps speaking, your eyes land on the photos, your stomach twisting. Jason laid in the dirt, his body covered in bruises and blood, a hopeless look in his eyes. But what makes your mind ache is the body laying beside the ten year old boy. A 20 year old guy. He looks strong, someone who you know could only live that long in that place, if they were extremely strong and brave. The marks around his neck send a shiver down your body, your stomach swooshes so much you think you're going to be ill. He’s the only one that ages with that mark, and there is only one guy who would do that. He’s still there, and that's all your fault.

~~~

“So (Y/n), any theories?” Rossi the one to ask you, his eyes on the notebook that you're clutching tightly.

“Quite a few” You glance up at Hotch, silently asking for permission to take over, he gives a quick nod and with that it's your turn. “It's a team, I want to say at least two older ones that have been doing this for many, many years, and if anyone has lasted long enough they would train them to join them, using them to find more opposition. They need a good routine of fighters, more opportunity for them to grow” You speak in a matter of fact, your fingers tapping away at the table.

“What makes you think they are fighting each other?” JJ glances at you from the photos.

“Easy, look at them, there is only one way someone can get that many bruises and cuts on them. Also not to mention the autopsy results mention multiple broken bones that have healed, internal bleeding due to multiple blunt force trauma”  Your not sure why but air soon becomes harder to inhale, it feels thick and the room starts heating up. Everyones eyes are on you, but you can’t look at them so you're focusing on the files in front of you instead. “Also look at their hands, they aren’t just defensive wounds, they fit back, also they are strong, it's like they train them. Plus they are well nourished so I guess someone is looking after them, my guess is a women is one of our unsubs” 

“That’s one hell of a theory” Morgan says, his eyes burning into you. His gut is full of distrust when it comes to you with this case, something doesn't seem right.

“I know, but have a look and you will see why I’m right, also this case is nothing like we are use to, I have many theories and most of them are strange but, you can see why” You speak from gritting teeth, your hand now gripping the table in front of you. 

“We are going to Nebraska, wheels up in thirty” Aaron eyes stay on you as you zoom out of the room, dying for some fresh air. 

~~~

“Jupiter wake up” Her viciouses voice fills your ears, as a piercing pain invades your side. A sharp hiss slips through your lips as your eyes shoot open, your body shooting up into a sitting position, pushing the thin blanket to the side. Inside you feel numb, nothing inside you is alive anymore, years of training has made you the perfect soldier. 

“Morning Ma’am” Your voice is emotionless, your eyes are dead as you stand up looking up at her. Keeping your hands behind you, your head slightly bent. 

“We have a new comer, you are to welcome them this morning, I don’t care if they live or die just clean up your mess” Her voice is assertive, a cunning look on her face as she leads you down the hall and past the other trainee soldiers. Some of them are still asleep, most of them without blankets, only winners get comfort items. You stroll past the training room where your fellow soldiers are lifting weights before being allowed to eat. You glance at them a part of you wishing you could join them, but that's not your task this morning. Instead you get to fight, and you get to choose the outcome, oh you do enjoy these fights. You always win, and even better, it doesn’t take much effort. Ma’am leads you to the empty swimming pool, where most fights to the death take place. As you walk over to the edge you spot your opponent, he looks small and extremely frightened, barely a challenge. He’s already got blood over his face as he hides on the corner of the pool, the area where the bloodstains seem to be less. A small chuckle leaves you as you check him out, the thoughts of destroying him winding you up. Licking your lips softly before glancing over at Ma’am waiting for permission to go down.

“Go on, but try and make it fair” She laughs softly, enjoying the murderous gaze in your eyes. In a matter of seconds you're jumping into the pool, smirking darkly as you make your way over to him. The boy looks to be about 14 or 15, a couple years or so younger than you. He looks up at you, a confused and scared look plastered over his face, it grows when you stop a few metres back from him. 

“Y you… you're alive” His whisper is barely audible, but it makes you freeze. That voice, you know that voice, how? 

“Come here, now” You growl at him, gritting your teeth as you stare into his eyes.

“I thought you died (Y/n)” He takes a small step forward staring at you with hope. Oh how wrong that looks for a place like this. 

“That's not my name” You spit at him, a horrible shiver dripping down your spine. 

“Yes it is” He speaks more confidently as he steps closer. “Your name is (Y/n), we used to be friends” That name, why do you know that name, it's wrong, it's so wrong. 

“I don’t know you” You sneer at him, taking a step towards him, dangour radiating off you.

“Yes you do, we used to be best friends, (Y/n) please you have to remember me, its Ryan” He begs you to remember. You freeze, Ryan. You know a Ryan, but he’s younger than him, Ryan was ten last time you saw him. But this can’t be him, because that part of your life is long gone, and who the hell does this guy think he is turning up claiming to be a part of that time. You react quickly with a sharp growl escaping you as you launch yourself on him.

“I don’t know you!” You scream as you grab him by his neck, and punch him repeatedly with your other hand. You're a lot stronger than him, using all your strength to pound into him. You let go of his neck, he falls forward with a gasp, begging you to stop but it falls on deaf ears. You knee him in the stomach as he falls forward, grabbing his hair holding him in place as you let him have it. 

“I don't know you” You scream as your anger explodes. “I don’t know (Y/n)!” You shove him into the wall, his body slides down, so you kick him, as you scream repeatedly. “I don't know Ryan” You keep screaming, blood starts to pile around him, as you lose control. “I don’t know you!”

~~~

“I don’t know you!” A scream invades the quietness of the jet. Everyone's head turns towards the scream full of pain, landing on you. You're asleep at the back of the jet, shaking violently with tears streaming down your face. Aaron is up in a matter of seconds, running quickly towards you. The team stays quiet, letting Hotch take control of this situation. He drops to his knees beside you, small whimpers and cries leaves you as you stay dead asleep. 

“(Y/n), wake up” He places his hand firmly on your arm, giving you a rough shake. But nothing, you stay asleep but your cries get louder. 

(Y/n), open your eyes” Aaron shakes you again sharper and luck is on his side. Your eyes shoot open, breathing heavily as you scan your surroundings. The jet, you're on the jet, with your team. Oh shit your team, everyone is watching you, they stare at you with unreadable emotions on their faces, and you hate it. Soon you let your eyes drop down to the man beside you, fear enters you quickly, yanking away from his touch you straighten up quickly.

“Sir, I’m so sorry sir I didn’t mean to fall asleep, I am extremely sorry sir It won’t happen again” Your words fly out of you with fear, your breathing picking up, your hands shaking uncontrollably as you watch him, waiting for the punishment. 

“It's okay” Aaron gulps, hating the fear you're experiencing, the panic attack that’s consuming you. “You are okay, you are safe here” Aaron speaks calmly, taking the chance to place his hand on yours, he’s grateful you don’t pull back.

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep” Your voice grows quiet, your lip quivering as the adrenaline dies down. 

“It's okay you're allowed to fall asleep” Aaron reassures you, his thumb running over the back of your hand smoothly.

“I am?” You look up at him hopeful, your eyes full of tears. You almost seem child-like as you ask that simple question.

“Yes you are, I only woke you because you were having a nightmare” Aaron smiles softly at you, hoping he doesn’t embarrass you as he informs you.

“Oh no” You yank away from his touch, panic filling you. You know you sleep talk occasionally, what the hell did you say?

“We all get them, its okay”

“No.. what did I say?” You stare at him with a look of horror. Aaron's face drops, he knows that look, he’s seen it almost everyday of this job. A look victims have when they open up to much of their past, scared their abusiver will come back for them.

“You didn’t say much” He tries his best to comfort you but he knows that determined look in your eyes. “You said ‘I don't know you’ ” 

A small sigh leaves you as you lean your head back in relief, that's all you said then you are fine, you can recover from that. “Thank you” You force a small smile, before raising your voice, turning to look at your coworkers who all seem to be pretending not to pay attention anymore.

“Sorry for disturbing you”

“You're not disturbing us” Hotch is quick to correct you, hating to think that you would think you're a bother. “If you want to talk about it–”

“No thank you, I’m fine” You interpret him quickly, a sharp glare and turning your back to him is all the dismissal he needs. 

~~~

You're in the SUV with Morgan and Rossi, heading downtown to the morgue. You sat in the back seat, reading through the Jason Ducan files, before sighing loudly and laying your head back. The two men in the front seat share some curious looks before glancing back at you.

“You alright back there” Morgan questions you, a small smile on his face.

“Not at all, this makes no sense at all” rubbing your forehead as the frustration causes another headache. “Why the hell did they take Jason Ducan three years ago he doesn’t fit the profile and they wouldn’t of dumped him like that he would of hide the body better, you would think they know not to show of the bodies we are investigating” You can’t hide the frustration and anger invading you, your hand squeezing into fist and you think back. He was a clue back then yet you were so focused on moving on you didn’t see it, this is bad. 

“Maybe your profile is wrong” Dave shrugs as he speaks, as if it's a casual thing.

“My profile is not wrong!” You snap at him, the anger burning away at your chest.

“I still don’t understand your interest in this case” Derek turns around to face you, a distrustful look in his eyes, one you can’t help but return.

“Well, no one was looking into it, someone has to care. I'm sorry if that irritates you Derek” Glaring deadly at him, as his eyes widen just slightly at your comeback before turning back to the front.

“I was just asking.'' He grumbles before glancing at Dave who is staring at you through the rearview mirror, watching as your face drops as you cross your arms. 

~~~

You are shown the bodies and as the doctor talks you can’t hear her, the words flying over your head as you grab some gloves and start touching the bodies. Three pairs of eyes on you, watching like a hawk as you move like lightning. Your hands travel around the older unnamed victim's neck. The dark unformed bruises with a slight cut you can tell were made with wire, your stomach spinning as you move away from it and down to his feet. 

“His neck wound was made by wire” You state as you kneel down by his feet, anger flooding through you as you see the scars. They are doing it again. “Holy shit” Your words are barely audible, but Morgan catches them, his eyebrow narrowing as he watches you.

“What did you find (Y/l)” Morgan makes his way over to you, spotting fear deep inside your eyes before you quickly mask the emotion once more.

“You need to ring Garcia” You look up at him, gulping thickly. “I think they are recording them” 

“What, how can you tell?” It's Rossi that asks as he walks over, joining you and Morgan at the feet of the victims. 

“Look at this” You show them the bottom of the left foot of the victim, where a big L is cut into along with the name victory which looks like it has been tried to be cut out. 

“Okay” Morgan looks at you puzzled. “How did you get that they recorded them from this?”

“The L, It means they lost, I bet they showed this to the camera to show them that they truly did lose this time” Maybe what you said doesn’t make sense to the profilers, but it's what they do. But they stopped, you know they stopped. You couldn’t find them on the dark web so they had to have stopped but you never relooked when the bodies started dropping again. 

“You can’t know that” Morgan goes to argue with you, a hand on his arm stops him. He turns his head to see Dave shaking his head at him. Morgan stares at him stumped wanting to argue but he can read that look in Dave’s eyes, there is something more going on here. 

“It makes sense, they can earn money this way and also they are sick twisted little fuckers who can find other twisted fuckers to enjoy in on their torment as well” You speak quickly as you pull your phone out, taking photos of his foot. 

“Okay I guess I’ll call Penelope then” Morgan sighs glancing at the dead set look on your face before walking out. You go to move onto Jason Ducan, touching his foot lightly before freezing. You stare at him for a few moments, your body frozen in place. He’s too young, his family loved him. How could they take him from them? It doesn't make sense.

“(Y/n), do you want me to do it?” Dave calls out to you kindly, breaking up your thoughts.

“No I got it” You reply letting out a small breath before pulling back his foot and taking a photo. A small W has been crossed out and replaced with a L, your heart crashing into your stomach as you see it. In a flash you're pulling away and making your way outside for some fresh air.

~~~

You lean against the SUV as you ring Reid, who is driving to see the other body that was discovered last night. 

“Hey (Y/l), You're on speaker phone” You can hear Reid smile through the phone.

“Hey guys, are you at the body yet?” You focus on slowly your racing heart beat as you speak to them, readying yourself to pass on the information.

“Not yet, we are still two and half hours out from the town” Emily response, glancing at the phone as she drives. 

“Okay that's fine, I just have a few things I need you to look at when you get there” Taking a breath as you think back to the cut on Jason's foot. “On his left foot I need you to see if there is anything cut into it, I am sending you a photo of the other two victims' feet okay” You quickly send them the photos.

“Okay I got it” Reid replies after a few moments.

“Oh that's gross” Emily groans.

“That's because you hate feet” Smirking just a little at her reaction.

“It's not my fault they are smelly and gross” She laughs just a little.

“Also you two should be driving through a small town called Cobar, it's a small town with a big population of homeless teenages It might pay to stop and talk to them, see if they have seen anything out of place lately” You take a sharp breath as a strange feeling starts filling you as you think about that place.

“Sure we can do that” Emily nods, her face tightening into a frown. “Hey, um are you okay?” 

“I'm good, why?” Your lips pull into a thin line as you line.

“Because this case seems to be weighing on you alot” She explains, tapping her finger on the steering wheel.

“Nope It's just another case, I gotta go” You quickly hang up before she can ask more questions. Reid and Prentiss share some strange and concerning looks as the phone beeps.

“What is he hiding?” Emily mumbles to herself as she stares out at the road.

~~~

The rest of the day goes by quickly, you three end up meeting up with JJ and Hotch back at the precinct. Rossi and Morgan go and talk with Jason Duncan's parents once they arrive trying to get more information from them. JJ works with other precincts where the other bodies and missing boys have been reported, trying to get all the information she can. You and Hotch work together trying to organise a timeline for the last 12 months, and with all the information you already have some parts are easy to fill in. Until he starts questioning you on the one part you can’t answer. 

“They shouldn’t be here, they should have gone east” Hotch sighs as you both stare at the map laid across the table. 

“I agree but they didn’t” You don’t agree with that, but according to the timeline it makes sense. 

“But do you agree?” Hotch looks up at you, doubt playing across his face. 

“What are you getting at Hotch?” Huffing little as you pick up your coffee, staring back at him.

“You said they would be coming this way, so why would you think that?” There’s his stern look eating at you. Making your stomach sink as you hide the truth from him. The truth is, you know their base is around here. This town is the first thing you remember when you escape but you can’t tell him that, no one can know. 

“I don't know” You lie, and it's a bad one.

“Don’t lie to me” 

“I'm not lying!” You don’t mean to snap at him, but fear and guilt were eating away at you and you can’t contain it anymore.

“Then tell me the truth” His words are sharp and to the point, but his face stays calm, his eyes soft and caring as he stares at you.

“Fine, I had a feeling like this town means something, because look at the pattern here Aaron” Your shoulders tenses up as you lean forward, pointing at the map. “Look, they always avoid this town, and they always avoided leaving bodies in this state until last night so since they did that I decided to take a risk and wait for them to leave us something around here and do you want to know what I’m thinking right now” A smirk slips onto your lips as you speak, a feeling of excitement spreads throughout you as you share your idea.

“You think their base is around here” Aaron finishes your thought, not liking that smirk on your face. 

“Exactly and if they left us this breadcrumb it only means two things, one they are somehow becoming sloppy or two—”

“They know you are investigating them” He finishes your sentence again, dread filling him due to just how close you are to this investigation.

“Not me, but someone yes and we can use that” 

“How?” 

Luckily Aaron's phone rings just before you have to answer that.

“It's Garcia” He glances at you before answering it, placing it on speaker. “Hey Garcia, what do you got?”

“Well boss man, I got good news and some gross news” Penelope's sweet voice floats through the phone. 

“What's the good news Garica?” You straighten up as you hope.

“Well our unnamed victim is Liam Clark, he’s 19 years old and went missing five years ago in florida” Garcia informs you both just as the door to the conference room opens and the rest of the team walks in. 

“Alright, can you send through his family information please” You sigh, leaning backwards in your chair, the stress of the case becoming too much. 

“Will do my love, now are we ready for some more information?” Her voice starts filling with dread as she types aways.

“Hit us with the good stuff baby girl” Morgan speaks up, coming to sit on the edge of the table by the phone.

“Oh I wish it was good news chocolate thunder, but (Y/n) was right.” She sighs as Aaron phones dings. “I found their profile on the dark web and all their live streams have been saved, there are hundreds of them, maybe even closer to a thousand, and they got back many, many years” She takes a deep breath before continuing. “I haven’t looked at them all yet but there are some that are over 25 years old” 

Your heart sinks, your palms becoming sweaty as realisation sits in. Your videos are still up, your team could find out in a matter of seconds what you are. 

“25 years…” Your voice is as quiet as a mouse, your throat tightening up as your team glances over at you. “How did no one see this?” Your voice gets louder, filling with anger as you jump to your feet. 

“They hide their tracks well” Reid speaks up, his eyes focused on you.

“Bullshit, no one can hide their tracks that well!”

“Okay you need to take a breath” Hotch gets up, walking closer to you. Watching the anger firing up inside your eyes.

“No, we need to find these monsters and make them pay, they have hurt and ruined so many innocent people's lives” You spit the words out, your hands squeezing into fist. 

“Is that all?” Morgan questions you, getting up, standing uncomfortably close to you.

“What's that meant to mean!?” Your body is already in defensive mode, locking itself down as Morgan has a determined look inside his own. 

“Well you seem to be hiding something from us and I would like to know what that is?” His questioning is dangerous, he steps closer to you. The rest of the room falls quiet, your eyes burning into his.

“How about, none of your damn business Morgan”

“It is my business when you drag us into it” He huffs back at you. “Just tell us what you're hiding” He steps closer, his breath lingering on your skin.

“Back the fuck up Derek” Your voice is lower, and full of danger. You can feel yourself about to snap and if you do, you don’t think you will be able to stop.

“We barely know you, so why don’t you just tell us what the hell is going on” Derek demands to know “What is wrong with you (Y/n)?” His hand raises up, and before you can process what is happening. Bam. Your fist collides with his mouth and you see red as he stumbles backwards. You follow him, a low growl leaves you as you punch him again, this time aiming for his eyes. He manages to block, trying to hold you back, but you don’t stop trying to get a blow on him. You can hear voices all around you but you can’t hear past the blood rushing in your ears. Soon there are arms wrapping around you from behind, pulling you away from Morgan. You struggle against them trying to break free as you stare daggering at Morgan who is being confronted by three people of your team, you don’t recognize them. Soon there is another person in your way, your body tenses as you see them. They quickly place their hands on your cheeks which make you freeze, the anger vanishing from inside you. Your vision starts easing up and faces start becoming recognizable. The person who is holding your face gently, has beautiful eyes, and a soft smile.

“Your safe (Y/n)” JJ speaks softly, “Just take some breaths” You stare at her, and soon start copying her breathing. Rossi lets you go, moving towards the rest of the team as you calm down.

“Let me go JJ” Your words are as cold as ice, the numb empty look in your eyes being replaced by guilt and anger. 

“Okay” She takes a breath before removing her hands and as soon as she does you bolt out the door.

~~~

You keep running once you get outside, you don’t stop, you can’t, you just can’t. Your mind is spinning and the only way you know how to get it to become quiet again, is to run. So that's what you do, you run. The sun is already set so you enjoy the darkness as you run. You can’t believe you lost it and punch Morgan, but what the hell is he getting at? Now what the hell are you meant to say, what lie are you meant to produce that will cover your ass. You're not sure how long you have been running for, but you're running out of breath when you see a corner store and think oh why not. Checking you have your wallet you head inside grabbing a bottle of water and a pack of cigarettes. Walking back out you open it, throwing the rubbish in the bin before lighting it and taking a long drag. Closing your eyes as you inhale it, it's been a long time since you last smoked and god does it just hit right tonight. Slowly you begin walking back to the precinct, enjoying the nicotine hit. You know you're about halfway to the precinct when you decide to check your phone after feeling it ring a few times. 

Missed phone calls: Aaron Hotchner (6)

Penelope Garcia (3)

You're not sure how many smokes you have consumed already but the pack is way lighter than it used to be. You really should ring them back instead of lighting another one, but oh well you think as you bring one more to your lips. Pulling out the lighter just as a car pulls up beside you, groaning softly as you recognize it. You keep walking, not caring to look at him as he rolls the window down. 

“Get in the car” Hotch yells at you, following you.

“Nope” You go to light the smoke instead when he stops the car and gets out. 

“We are an hour walk from the precinct, get the hell in” Aaron doesn’t bother to hide his anger, holding himself back from grabbing that cigarette from your hand.

“Or what?”

“Or you're fired, and I’ll leave you here” He huffs angrily, seeing you weighing up your options.

“Fine” You take a long drag on your smoke before stomping it out and climbing in.

~~~

The ride back is quiet, as you stare out the window.

“How angry is everyone?” Your voice is quiet and empty. Almost empty because Aaron can detect a small trail of sadness and fear in your words. 

“Morgan winded you up on purpose, he pushed you too far. That wasn’t okay what either of you two did” Hotch ignored your question, because he knew you wouldn’t accept that fact no one is angry. No, everyone is just worried and concerned about you, something you don’t know how to spot or accept when it comes to yourself. He wishes you could just trust the team, trust him enough to let them help. 

“I have a past” You pull yourself closer as you stare out the window, thinking about your next words carefully. 

“You don’t have to tell me” Aaron quickly tells you softly, needing you to know there is no rush.

“And if I do want to tell you?” You glance at him quickly, and for a moment you forget he is your boss and see him in the light of your friend. 

“Then I'm here to listen” He smiles lightly at you. You nod quickly looking back out the window, and then slowly you move your hand towards him, which he happily takes sliding his fingers between yours.

“I was abused growing up, no one cared and nobody knew, I never told anyone” You stare out the window, emotions settling down as you speak. “This case brings back memories I never wanted to relieve back up, I have to find these people so that we can save these kids” Your voice is sweet as you speak, this is a side no one but Aaron ever gets to see.

“And we will get them and we will get them help” Aaron smiles weakly as he pulls up. “But once this case is over we need to get you some help too, okay?” His thumb slides over your hand as you glance at him. If only he knew that nothing on earth can help you, and at the end of this case you don’t think you will still be on this team.

“Okay” You nod forcing a small smile before pulling away and making your way inside.

~~~

You walk in quietly, followed by Aaron. The team is staring up at the tv, watching some of the latest fights. You freeze as you catch a glance of his face on the screen. You knew he was still there but the look in his eyes is killing you. He's gone, replaced by a murderous robot, his skills are fast and sharp. 

“Ryan” His name slips off your tongue before you can stop it, your body tenses up as you stare at the screen and the way he gets his opponent down in one quick move. Emily pauses it as everyone's head turns to you once more. This time everyone looks at you with concern as they see the tears forming in your eyes, which you quickly push away once you let everyone get a good look.

“You know him?” Reid asks you, tilting his head as he asks you. 

“Um y yeah..” You take a deep breath. “I went to school with him” It's a lie, but you know it's golden. “He went missing when he was around 15 years old, we were best friends then one day he didn't turn up to school and well” You take  a deep breath as Aaron leads you to a chair, your arms shaking just a little. “He was officially determined missing a week later, his parents were absent, they didn’t care for him” That wasn’t a lie, he told you about his parents and how much they hurt him and how they were barely at home. 

“Oh (Y/n)” JJ places her hand softly on the table beside your hand, not touching but showing you she is here for you. You give her a soft smile in response. 

“If he’s been there this whole time it's been twelve years” Twelve years, he is never going to be the same.

“Jesus christ” Morgan groans with regret as he looks at you. “That's what you were hiding?”

“I had a feeling he was there.. I was just hoping I was wrong” Your voice is weak and tiredness is starting to take over. It's been almost 48 hours since you last slept.

“Now we got a lead, tomorrow we get Garcia to look into him but let's call it a night it's late we all need sleep” Hotch states, everyone nodding in agreement including you as you stare at Ryan's face on the screen. That's all your fault.

[enquire]

his flames hide something deeper

I finally got around to finishing the second drawing in this duo so time to post more random au/crossover stuff...

Tried to experiment a bit with how to present traditional art again... And man, I don't think I've ever drawn Pyra and Mythra's armor properly but it was just as complex as I figured it would be even simplifying stuff a bit. Also it's altered for the boys here ofc. Sorry but I chose not to draw Yuki or Utsuro with boob windows lol. Mythra's outfit was a lot harder to modify/genderbend, I don't think I like it quite as much as Pyra's for Yuki but oh well.

They're still missing part of their core crystal here, Tsurugi has the other piece like Rex in-game. And he'd be their driver ofc. Cause, you know, reviving your partner via god powers and then having your lives tied together and all that.

don't think I would make Tsurugi a Rex equivalent tho, or at least not a salvager haha. He's probably from Mor Ardain or something like that. Rex and Tsurugi are way too incompatible in terms of character traits for that lmao. Imagine Tsurugi rattling of the salvager's code or complaining about 'gramps' yeah no that's not working for me (would be funny to draw him in the diving suit though).

I won't spoil too much but if you have played Xenoblade 2 you might see the connections between the two duos I saw. Beyond the uh, main obvious one lol. For example, Mythra and Utsuro creating a 'better' version of themselves in Pyra and Yuki, who have a lot less of their cosmically disastrous power, and personalities they consider to be superior or easier to deal with.

Also, the power of the Aegis is highly coveted by many in Alrest, similar to how divine luck is in DRA/SDRA2, and Pyra/Yuki hover under the radar more in that regard.

p.s. Yamato would probably be Addam. Or possibly Zeke because Yuki, Utsuro, and Tsurugi probably need some sort of protagonist energy to carry them along cause Tsurugi is not gonna be doing the whole hope and friendship power thing like Rex lol. Not sure about the rest but maybe Akane and Nia could fit well.

[rivalsforlife]

hello!!! sorry for the long text (and for possible mistakes in this) in advance!!

in december last year i stumbled upon your fic "the catch up game". i decided to read it and honestly that was the best decision of my LIFE. that is the best fanfic ive ever read. this changed my life actually. i remember being impressed at how amazing the characterization was and how everything felt so canon. i was awake until 4 am reading because i couldnt sleep without knowing what would happen next. i started to cry while reading, not because of sadness, but because EVERYTHING was SO GOOD that i wasnt able to express my emotions properly and all i was able to do was CRY.

recently, after months have passed, i've decided to read your fanfic again, and everything was even better than before. i felt all the emotions again, and i was awake until late to read again, and i cried because it was great AGAIN. after i finished reading, i decided to read your other works and EVERYTHING is so well written!!!!

i should say that i LOVE the way you interpret narumitsu as a ship but more importantly as individual characters. i love the way you interpret the other ace attorney characters as well, they all feel so,,, alive? idk how i should put this (im horrible with words, sorry sgdugshs).

all i wanted to do telling you all this is: thank you. thank you for sharing your writing with us. know that when you write again (if you want to, of course!) i will be there to support you!!! i deeply admire your work and you deserve ALL the kudos.

well. i think thats it. i hope you have a good day/night <3 <3 <3!!

🥺 this is such a sweet ask, thanks so much for reaching out!! I'm so glad to hear that my writing had such a strong effect on you and that you enjoyed my works!

ace attorney is always so much fun to write because they're all fantastic characters on their own, but the games have all these great relationships between the characters and such a strong emphasis on platonic relationships as well (which might not be the thing to bring up while talking about a narumitsu fic, but it's always something I want to pay special attention to). Especially with the catch-up game which I intended to be more of a Phoenix characterization study/exercise I wanted to pay at least a little bit of attention to all of his important relationships!

I remember hearing writing advice once that you should have a general idea of what every character in a scene has going on in their own life, like where they came from before this scene, what they're doing after, what's the pressing issues on their mind, etc, so it doesn't feel so much like "and Maya stands off screen until she comes back in to talk about Phoenix and Edgeworth's relationship". So I'm always super happy to hear when people notice things like that because it means I'm doing it at least a little bit correctly!!

Anyways all that is to say that I really appreciate this ask and it definitely brightened my day. I know I haven't posted anything in a while (school + unemployment hell year + more school and now work??? have done a number on me). I have been writing, but I always want to wait until things are done before I post, and I think I've officially hit the year and a half mark on this project as of today, but I have no idea how much longer I'll be able to stand it before I decide it's too much work to wrangle this thing into something I like - and it's not ace attorney anyways and writing characters for the first time and figuring out how they sound is always a bit terrifying. (There's like 2/3 longfics that are the first things I wrote for ace attorney that I've abandoned.)

Maybe replaying aai2 when the official version comes out will motivate me to write more AA, because I do have one good narumitsu idea in my head that I hope I'll be able to write? But either way I'm glad that even my work from four years ago (!!!) is still having an effect on people. Catch-Up Game is still my favorite thing that I've written and I'm always happy to hear people liked it!!

This got more rambly than I intended sorry about that. Thanks again for the very sweet ask. I hope you have a good day/night as well!!

[winterinhimring]

1, 5, and 6 for the latest ask game

Thanks for sending this!

1: Tell us about your current project(s)  – what’s it about, how’s progress, what do you love most about it?

The current project that's most consistently under construction is The Right Question, a fix-it for The Amazing Spider-man 2 (NOT something I ever expected to write fic for) which could very well be subtitled "Gwen Stacy and Aunt May Fix Everything (Harry Helps A Bit)". It's making pretty good progress and most of the main conflict has already been solved, so really what's left now is cleaning up loose ends and revelling in the fix-it a bit before I wrap things up. I think what I love most about it is the dynamic that's developing between Harry, Peter, and Gwen. Harry and Peter have spent most of the fic trying to express friendship for each other by mutually going 'I will sacrifice myself for you. Let me sacrifice myself for you PLEASE. I AM GOING TO JUMP IN FRONT OF THIS BOLT OF LIGHTNING FOR YOU DON'T YOU DARE TACKLE ME OUT OF THE WAY WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU'RE SAVING ME I AM SUPPOSED TO BE SAVING YOU'. Gwen, meanwhile, has the brain cell, and has spent most of the fic trying to get them to actually TALK about all the things they sorely need to talk about, but crises keep happening and the boys keep running off into the blue before she can sit them down and sort them out properly. It honestly cracks me up laughing.

I'm also planning to add another arc to A Lot Can Happen In Twenty Years, a collection of short stories set after my rewrite of Spider-man: No Way Home in A Far, Far Better Thing (a series that started life as 'let's fix the post-Endgame MCU' and ended up spanning the entire live-action Spider-man multiverse). So far, entries to that have included lots of Osborn family bonding and a Raimi-verse edition of Electro; the next arc, if I ever actually write it, will be about the Raimi-verse Vulture, whose existence I've teased in previous fics, but who has never actually shown up on screen. So far, it's just in the planning stage, because I'm trying to get The Right Question written before I start it. However, I can already tell that it's going to be chock full of father-son feels and bonding between Norman and Harry, which is one of my favourite things, so I'm really looking forward to when it's written. (I don't want to have to WRITE it but alas, such is life.)

Finally, there is my oldest and least consistently worked-on project, aka That Pesky Original Novel, aka The Finding. It's about a pair of college students who stumble across what I can probably most easily describe as a magical artifact (though magic is really a bit of a misnomer for the way I've set up this world, and in-universe everyone would insist, correctly, that it's NOT magic), find themselves in the sights of quite a lot of interested parties, and have to figure out who to trust and what to do. It has been nominally in the process of being rewritten ever since I first drafted it in high school, but it has actually made some progress lately. It might get finished this year or it might take me another decade; who knows?

5: What character that you're writing do you most identify with?

This is a tough one! I tend to write characters that are similar to me in some crucial ways (I don't think I've ever written someone who's naturally open with their emotions, because that is simply baffling to me on a fundamental psychological level), but very different in others. It's not quite a case of opposites attract, but it's pretty rare for me to look at a character I write and strongly identify with him or her. I can find bits or pieces of myself in most of the characters I write (my sense of morality in Peter, my determination in Gwen, my dislike of emotional vulnerability in Norman, my snark in just about everyone, etc.), but I don't see my whole self in any of them.

6: What character do you have the most fun writing?

It depends on a lot of things! Right now, though, probably Harry Osborn, because he's (a) ridiculously dramatic and can always be relied upon to take a plot in new and interesting (by which I mean supremely angsty) directions, and (b) SUCH a snarky little dude who WILL unleash it on anyone he considers deserving at the slightest provocation. He considers quite a lot of people deserving and I love writing snark, so it's a writer and character partnership made in heaven.

Thank you for sending this question! I had lots of fun answering it.

Ask game is here.

[pktearsoftazmily]

It's been days since the surgery of his brotherly figure and his father, leaving Lucas to be more independent with his own self care needs. Not that he couldn't take care of himself, but it meant Lucas had to catch the public transport, which never frightened him. In fact, it gave the psychic more confidence to be more independent, help him see that he too, can survive like the others could. The more he ventured into the outside world, the less anxious he started to become.

He also had began to take better care of his health too, often carrying a face mask on his person in case he'd be around large crowds, for the sake of his poor immune system. Lucas wanted to not get sick easily any more to worry his parents, realising how much they cared about him through the hard times lately. It's his way of making sure none of them could be more stressed than they already were. Lucas is growing up now, so it's his responsibility to look after himself properly.

Ever since his grandfather, the Mayor of Utopia, had mentioned about strange activity in the sky, Lucas had been secretly doing some research on his mobile whenever he could, writing down anything that might give some clues over what the cause could be. He's enlisted the help of his trusty friends, and his brother too, though asked the three not to repeat anything to the limbless couple (or any of the found family) for now. Lucas is handling this his way.

Today, he's caught wind of a story of a town not far in the news. The article caught his attention, immediately pulling up the post to read it.

Strange Sightings Found in Belring Residents in the town of Belring have been reporting of unusual activity that have made them fear for their lives. Claims of flying saucers had been made to the local police. However, the police had ruled out that it's anything suspicious, telling the residences of Belring not to panic, and to "stay indoors during night time". One witness claims that they had an encounter with an alien-like creature that could not be explained during on their way home. They had just finished work late one Monday when they suddenly saw something flying in the air that looked strangely like a UFO. The witness also describes how they were shaken up by the encounter, saying they were alarmed when the UFO began to approach them. They started to run home in fright. "I couldn't believe it," they responded. "I thought I was going to die. I legit saw a f***ing UFO man. I couldn't believe it. I swear on my life it's a f***ing UFO."

Unusual flying activity over the sky. Oh, god, it's a bloody UFO! Had his grandfather been receiving reports of a UFO? Is this the cause of the activity?

Wasting no time, Lucas shares the news post with his friends, and brother, telling them to look at the article. It isn't long before he gets texts in the group chat. After a long talk, the four agree to visit Belring in private to investigate, with Lucas reminding them to keep this all a secret for now.

Nobody in the found family needed to know this. Not right now. If aliens are involved, then it's something only the four of them can handle. Lucas' family did not have psychic powers. Not like the four teenagers did.

So, Lucas states they need to come up with a game plan. Fast. They'd agree on a time and date to visit Belring; it also had to be at night to see the aliens.

Once everything had been finalised, Lucas closes the post, making sure nobody could find any traces of his search history in case any of his family manages to somehow trace any of the history.

[gingersnappish]

Hi! I just want to say I absolutely adore your art, and I'm so excited to see your new stuff! Particularly anything Kylo Amidala related, it's my favourite au/concept of mine and I love seeing different artists takes on it!

I was just wondering if you had any advice for new artists? I want to be good at drawing but I get so discouraged when things don't come out how I envisioned.

Also, could I ask what you use to draw your art? Is it a digital setup you have? Would you have any recommendations on things to get?

Sorry to ask you so many questions, so please feel free to ignore this! I hope you have a lovely day, and thank you so much for all your wonderful contributions to the kylux fandom ❤

Thank you so much, Anon, for this lovely missive! It was such a warm feeling to find it in my inbox and brought a smile to my face! I love Kylo Amidala more and more the longer I'm in kylux fandom-honestly I wasn't sure if he was my 'thing' or not at first, years back, and then the more I saw takes on him in art and writing and fandom in general, the more he grew on me :) He allows for so much fashion fun and character creativity-like you said, it's really fun to see everyone's 'take' on him! Part of the reason it's taken me this long to respond is that I read what you asked about starting out with art and related hardcore! The thing where you got the vision but it can feel discouraging when stuff doesn't come out finished like it looked in your head? That was me for like- a couple decades. Still me on certain days. Like, MOOD, my friend! The good news is: every artists struggles with the above problem. So you are not alone! I guess in a sense, the bad news is also: 'everyone from beginners to seasoned professionals ' struggle with this....so yeah, it doesn't ever *entirely* go away? BUT! Better news: There have been a lot of 'takes' written and a lot of good advice given about how to mentally manage the 'it doesn't come out how I wanted' phenomenon! It's not so much 'make it go away' as it is 'learn to manage that phenomenon in a healthy, painless, productive way'. And that is a learnable skill that gets *a lot* easier with practice!

Also: I hoard tutorials/drawing resources for all levels/YT channels/'how to think about and approach art meta'/etc like a dragon hoards gems, so I'm putting together a post of resource links that might help or give you some starting points--that is taking a hot minute to craft though, so I figured I should just go ahead and respond here today and then post the resources list as soon as I get it finished (so you don't feel like your ask just went into the void)! Re: What I use to draw....time was, that would have been a whole post to itself on traditional materials and comparing computer programs and such. These days it's real straightforward: Procreate on an iPad :) I'm entirely digital these days but my honest opinion is that everyone is drawn to different materials and media and you should feel free to try out working in whatever interests you, whether that is digital art tools, or traditional media like acrylic or ink or something else! Also: making lots of drawings and practicing with what is cheap and available will get you farther,faster than any expensive supplies when you are starting out. Ballpoint pens and a pad from the Dollar Store (or equivalent where you are) are perfectly serviceable for practicing-plus sometimes I personally find I relax and have more fun experimenting and less angst if things don't come out how I wanted if I'm not working with something 'precious'. Case in point: I have custom-leather-worked sketchbook made by a friend sitting up in the office, being exquisitely beautiful and gathering dust. It is empty but for a single drawing, that I became unsatisfied with the day after I finished it. I got that sketchbook 7 years or more ago and I'm still trying to convince myself to use it properly. In contrast, last summer we went to the beach near our house and while we were there I ended up with access to cheap kiddie art supplies from a summer 'communal stash'-a blank sketchbook of the lowest quality paper and 10 colors of crayola pencils, half sharpened. It was a 'throw away', didn't matter what was done in that book-there were 10 more like it in the pile. I ended up doing a bunch of messy stuff born of people-watching and seagull-antics-observation. Filled 5 pages, both sides, and felt incredible joy in the making of shitty scribbles! And then I just put the book back in the 'communal stash' at the end of the day, since there were still a bunch of blank pages left. It was low-pressure and extremely freeing. (side note: when we went back a week later, the other sketchbooks were gone but that one I'd messed around in had more doodles from artists of all ages and beginning skill levels. And more the week after that. I think it turned out to be pretty freeing for a lot of people.) OK, this turned into a way longer response than I intended-boy, can I 'talk'! I hope you have a good day! Wishing you lots of positive creative vibes!

[pepperf]

2022 has been, well, let's say a continuation of the pandemic years for me. I'm a little lacking in emotional resilience these days, and I'm dragging myself over the line with the hopes that next year will be kinder. But it hasn't all been bad. I've had some amazing times with friends and family, I paddled in the sea with my nephew, I finally saw @bethanyactually again after so fucking long, and I've learned a few things. So I thought I'd do the counting my blessings thing, and look back on the good things this year.

2022 was the year that I…

Wrote nearly 200k words. That's over 500 words a day. That is two full-length novels. And I finished and posted about 130k of it on AO3, which—look, I've not been tracking it this way before now so I don't have the stats, but it's DEFINITELY a higher rate of finishing than I've had before. And @wheresmytowel deserves all my thanks for, oh, so much of that. I'm gradually figuring out what works for me in terms of completing stories, and I'm really happy with my progress on that front.

Discovered that armpit hair is cute. I'm serious. Look, I've given up shaving before, but I don't think I've stuck to my guns for this long, well, ever. But this summer, after my last trip to the beach with the family, I decided, to hell with it. And now it's all grown past the spiky stubble stage, and the beard-on-someone-who-can't-really-grow-a-beard stage, and it's kind of luxuriant and…goddamn it, it's fluffy. It is cute. Why is it always seen as a Statement or an insult, something strident and unfeminine and unkempt, when long hair is otherwise seen as an ultra-feminine attribute? I love my fluffy little pits, and legs, and bits. It's possible I'll chicken out when summer comes around again—but until then, I'll get a fond little 'yay' moment, every time I see the kitten fluff under my arms.

Decided that I didn't want the career I've got. This is a difficult one, but it's been a long time coming. A large part of why I am where I am comes from me trying to live up to the (impossible) legacy of my mother, and…okay, yes, I am also a firm believer in the value of public sector work and everyone pitching in to make the country and the world a better place. But I've been doing something along those lines for nearly 20 years now, and I'm kind of burnt out, ngl. And I'm sad to say, I might be done with the NHS. I truly believe in it, and I am loyal through and through, but…it's an increasingly hard place to work, and I don't think I have the mental stamina for it any more. Maybe once I've stepped away, and regrouped for a few years, I will come back. But at the moment, it's a really bad place to be for my mental health, and as a result of that, I'm doing an increasingly poor job of things that I used to find easy. So, I just need to stop, really, for everyone's sake, and do something different.

Started painting again. Slowly and cautiously. I started to think about it in the summer, and took some reference photos of some stuff I might like to paint—then a few months after that I got my easel down from dad's attic and took stock of my paint and brushes—then I dragged out one of my old canvases that never got properly used—and a couple of months ago I ordered some new paint—and applied a base layer to wipe off a painting that was haunting me with bad memories—and then applied another base layer to start building it up into something new…and, yeah, that's where I'm at. But it's a start, and it's more painting than I've done in a very, very long time, and I'm…cautiously excited.

Put some other tentative stakes in the ground for things I might want to do—job stuff, writing stuff, house stuff…all too much to do all at once, and it probably won't all happen next year, because I don't think I could handle that, but at least it feels like I'm not stagnating. Even if I need to remind myself of that, sometimes.

Jesus, I sound fragile. I am fragile, honestly, my confidence is easily knocked, and I'm anxious about a lot of stuff, and I feel like I keep having to gently lead myself along like a 90yo with a broken hip, and I've got things in the new year that I'm dreading (particularly job hunting, god help us—but I'm on a temp contract at the moment, so I don't have a choice). But…I'm getting there.

Here's to 2023.

[galvanizedfriend]

do you ever get into writing slumps but try to write anyway? if so, do you manage to do it? does your work come out as good as when you're inspired?

All the time, nonnie. I think everyone who's into writing goes through slumps every now and then. How long those slumps last and how well I can cope with them varies. 😂

Even going through slumps, I can still sometimes write. There are moments where I can't even bear to open a document, but in others I'll just push through anyway. However, if I have to force it, my writing usually comes out very crappy. I'm definitely not one of those blessed souls who can churn out incredibly inspired words whenever. 😂 It takes some for me to get there.

What I try to do is find things that might get me in the mood to write. Like sometimes I'll just pick up a book. Whenever I see good writing, it usually gets my groove going. With The Wolf, I often had to rewatch certain parts of the show, and that would then make me want to go back and write my fix-it version. What will get you in the mood will change from person to person, so it's really just a matter of figuring out what works for you.

The thing with writing is that, for me, it's a process. I know some people prefer to just type their whole story down and then immediately post it, and that's totally ok. But I'm the kind of person who can't post anything unless I've read it at least twice. I used to have beta readers who would help me spot glaring issues or problems within the story, but not anymore, so I will read the chapters/stories over as many times as I can. If I'm still not happy, I'll keep on editing until I am. That's why it takes me such a long time between updates these days (I'm usually not happy lol). So when I'm writing, at first I don't mind much about the quality, just about getting it out, cause that will be my first draft. I feel it's easier to work the story once I have a rough version.

So what I would say is: just write. If you have the motivation but not the inspiration, write whatever you can. Follow your plot ideas, your scenes, and just get it down. Then you can go back, re-read it and figure out which parts need more work, if you have pacing issues, or continuity issues, or if you need more dialogues, or to add a different scene to make the story flow better, and so on and so forth.

Something that I do a lot is outline the story before I start writing it properly. I have entire stories completely outlined, from start to finish, that I simply can't get myself to write because I don't have the time. 😂 But that helps me to know exactly what I want from a fic, and then reading it over I have a pretty idea whether I'm missing anything. And when I do get to write it (like say with a chapter of The Wolf), it's a wonderful guideline. I know exactly what is going to happen, which scenes I need to work on, in what order, etc. I definitely work better and more easily if I have everything organized from start to finish before I start writing the chapters.

That's how I do it, anyway. But it's really just a matter of finding the thing that will get you in the right mood and help you organize your thoughts better.

Anyway, nonnie, I hope this is helpful! 😊

[mirrorred-star]

Whumpuary Hiatus

Whumpuary is postponed for the following reasons:

I'm really close to running out of ideas for fics. I have two days, my prepared alts, and then I'm stuck for almost two weeks. And because I know I'm on a time limit, it's really hard for my brain to chill enough to come up with how to tackle prompts that aren't really up my alley. I am writing so much shit, guys. Like, writing badly shit. I'm typing everything up in Wordpad, so I'm not working with native spellcheck or auto-correction (for slightly complicated dumbass reasons). I'm not doing a proper rereading pass before posting things. Some of the fics posted are pointless. The first part of the Death Note fanfic needed to be cleaned up, and I didn't because I wanted it done so I could move onto the next thing. I can do a lot better, and you don't deserve your time wasted by reading things that I could have done better with.

All I am doing with every day, now that I have no fic buffer, is write, doing something else on my computer to give myself enough mental space to fix what's wrong with the fic, make myself food, eat food, accidentally spend too much time on the internet, do something else entirely because I need a break from writing or housemate wants to socialise, and sleep. All I have been thinking about is fic. This is probably not good.

Posting at midnight or 2am started to become a fix for the 'accidentally spending three hours on tumblr' issue, which is also… not great.

I haven't been able to set up my tumblr properly and friend more people there because all I've been thinking about has been writing fic or worrying about… fic, or tagging properly, or more fic.

I've been thinking of moving the sickos-yes show to a sideblog to make it easier for people who don't want to see it and want to pretend that I don't do that, and also in case I miscalculate and get the account nuked. I wanted to finish whumpuary first but the more things I post for whumpuary the more likely it is that I'll accidentally get noticed by the kinds of people who might want to try to get my account nuked or just make tumblr very unfun.

I've achieved even more than what I set out to do - I've posted every day for two weeks, I've freely written the horrible things that I like writing about enough to want to keep writing, with the side effect of maybe figuring out what I need to do to fix the vampire novel that I've been trying to write good since 2008*, generating a small hutch of horrible plot bunnies, and figured out more background for the two original canon fics I wrote. And it is probably a much better use of my time to work on the vampire thing or the rpg or making the other thing reasonably presentable than to push myself to churn out another 16 mediocre-to-bad fics before not wanting to touch the keyboard for another two months.

*for the umpteenth time. I'm feeling cautiously optimistic, but every time it seems like the fix will work and then it doesn't. I think I have it, but I won't know until I write the thing.

I don't know if I'll come back to it or not - it'd be nice to complete it, but the pressure of trying to find a new fandom for everything, even though that's probably the most unnecessary limit for a fic writing exercise ever, is a lot. It might be easier to come up with fics for prompts after I've given myself some time to just watch stuff and read stuff and play stuff.

[someonelookingpraediti]

Currently Reading...

Mister Impossible and Greywaren - Maggie Stiefvater

I'm going to sum up two books in one post here, purely because after finishing Mister Impossible, I just didn't have the energy.

This seemed like such a long series to get through, even though I enjoyed them. I'm really glad I waited until the last book was out before I read them, though, because I think if I'd had to wait between books, I probably would have had no drive to finish the series. Greywaren was so good, I was totally gripped, but the first two books weren't that special.

Mister Impossible

While reading Mister Impossible, I liked Jordan so much more than Hennessy - I think we just didn't get enough of an insight to Hennessy, so I wasn't as invested in her as a character. This is better than the first book, when I didn't care about either.

I adored Declan by this book. Poor Declan, tormented by little brothers and criminal enterprises and noxious dream pigs and Handcat (the cat with hands). Poor Declan with his long-suffering Dad-ittude.

The sweetmetals were interesting, my main worry was that they wouldn't be properly explained. Ronan spent so long in TRC trying to dream something that would do this precise thing.

I loved that Adam was doing fake tarot readings at uni to earn extra cash, despite the fact that he's an actual genuine psychic. What a guy. I had a huge panic when his roommate said that Ronan and Adam had broken up, in case Adam actually believed it - Adam is Ronan's happy ending!! And, plothole time - he said break was in "a few days" and that he'd be at the Barns. He asked Ronan to be there waiting for him, which obviously, Ronan wasn't. BUT Declan and Matthew should have been there at that point, so surely he'd have gone to the Barns and bumped into them there? (Looking back after finishing the series, this does not get explained)

I was really creeped out by Bryde, did not like him at all. I know that's the point, but still. I couldn't figure out why Ronan kept almost recognising him, and I had one brief moment when I thought this might finally be one of those ley line time travel things, but no such luck. I honestly just wasn't that in to the whole "fix the ley lines, escape the moderators" plot.

But, it did start to get interesting near the end, when Adam reappeared, and then. And THEN. The Bryde revelation! That was so, so good, and not at all what I was expecting. And the aftermath? The absolute quantity of dreamers and dreams in the world? The vastness! It left me really hyped for the last book.

Greywaren

The last book was incredible, it had so much going on.

I finally clicked with Hennessy, and actually even started to care about Carmen as a character.

Matthew and Declan remain the best characters. The fear that Matthew might be dead was horrific, even knowing from a literary point of view, it was very, very unlikely that he'd have been killed off so anticlimactically. But then the relief of finding out that he was alive, followed almost immediately by the knowledge that either him or Bryde had become a visionary!

And then Adam, lost in the sweetmetal sea, but not sure if it was true, because if he'd been lost while scrying, Declan should have found his body next to Ronan.

The whole Ronan revelation - him being a dreamt body for an ancient power! He wasn't human, but his family loved him, and made him human, so much more human than anyone else! And Declan was Niall's favourite after all! But Niall pretended it was Ronan to make him feel loved, and then Ronan probably became his favourite, because Ronan was Declan's favourite. And Niall loved Declan so much, that he automatically loved anything Declan loved.

The Nathan reveal was a bit of a let down to be honest, because who is Nathan when he's at home? He was such a non-character. But the plot actually came together really well, so it did work. I just wish he'd been given a bit more time and explanation at the beginning of the story.

I really did love the ending. It worked out well for everyone, but not so much that it seemed super convenient. Everything was tied up quite nicely, for the most part.

Only two questions remain unanswered, which I think is just Maggie Stiefvater's fatal flaw. But two is better than the twenty we had in The Raven Cycle. 1. What actually makes an object into a sweetmetal? There were lots of suggestions and options thrown around, that they had to be 'meaningful' or 'new', but there was no definitive answer. That seems like a pretty big one to actually need an answer at the end of the series. 2. What exactly was the Lace? I'm not buying the whole "it's just Hennessy's nightmare" thing. Because why would it want to destroy the world? How could it get that much power? Why did it hate Adam if it was only Hennessy's? Why didn't every traumatised dreamer have one? And mostly, why did Ronan turn into the same thing when he was in the sweetmetal sea?

And finally, the epilogue. Four years later. Normally, I don't think epilogues are necessary, and this was true here. But it was still nice, to see that everything continued to turn out well after the story ended. The only thing I wasn't keen on was that Mór and Finian went to live at the Barns. I just think that these three brothers probably wouldn't want to keep returning to a childhood home that now contained the physical doubles of their parents, who had no memories of raising them, and walked out on them around the time they had been planning on killing the middle child. It just wouldn't sit well with me, if I were them.

Overall, I didn't enjoy reading this series as much as The Raven Cycle, although it was definitely better written, technically.

[sanctus-ingenium]

u guys wanna see more WIPs... similar to the last post, here are Some WIPs

all of these were started in sai before going on to procreate. before going back to sai again in the case of the strength card

so Blue Sky/Out Of Time... yeah it’s extremely self-explanatory, it’s very obvious what this scene depicts and i’m sure everyone gets it (this is a joke i’ve had multiple people dm me asking wtf this even is). the one element that absolutely NEEDED to be there was the LED digital clock with a bullshit time on it, and i decided to replace it with an AIRE warning sign instead and put the LED readouts in the bg. the warning sign in this setting serves the purpose of informing ppl when there are hostile faeries around. i knew what the colours would be from the beginning, but it took a bit for me to realise what sort of shading style i wanted (it took forever). but i did know i wanted to contrast the very sketchy black void against the cleaner and almost cartoony/comic book style rest of the drawing, to emphasise the fact that the foreground sky and background void are made of two very different things. again i used a colour shifting brush to quickly make all the shards of sky different colours, but originally i planned to have some of the shards be dark or night time (with stars or the moon etc). unfortunately it didn’t work, it was too dark and pascal got lost against it.

My Eyes Are Up Here is pretty obviously the exact same scene with the same character, in the same field, but with a different sort of atmosphere. i sketched this in sai then did the final in procreate. originally it was going to have a black background

i really like this version tbh but the blue works better. i think he looks good against dark backgrounds where it’s kind of hard to see wtf is even happening there

so about the neon signs..... i’m well aware that the sketch has way more promise than what the final ultimately was, and that’s because i found that i didn’t have the technical or artistic ability to pull off the complex neon signs like i wanted to. i couldn’t get it looking good enough so i had to scrap them. but these signs will be back, i want to draw them properly and do them justice. the gif was unplanned too but i thought it would be fun to have the flicker be very intermittent so that if you scrolled past it you might not even realise, or you’d have to stick with it just to catch it looping. i used GIMP to make the gif and change the frame rate, and this actually took a very long time because i had to preview it over and over. anyway if you WERE to get lost in the púca’s field, in this story, you would see neon signs like this encouraging you to follow them.

Strength is actually the last drawing i ever made that ended with a paint-over in sai, and the oldest drawing here. as such i actually don’t think it’s representative of my current ability but i do have a soft spot for it for sentimental reasons lol. the reason for the paint-over in sai was because i drew this at a time when i still did not trust procreate to be able to place the level of finish on it that i wanted

the background took me a thousand years to figure out. literally it was so annoying that i considered scrapping it for something simpler. but the idea was for it to be a kind of fairytale-ish lost in the woods sort of look while also appearing like the blood vessels around the human heart. the branches were also supposed to be heart-shaped in cross-section but i spent so long zoomed in painting them that i forgot to zoom out to see if all those fine details were actually visible, and it turned out they weren’t. i was disappointed that i couldn’t get félix’s tattoos to look right but that’s what i get for making a character with shit tons of both tattoos and body hair. i also got rid of the foreground branches really soon because they weren’t adding anything and muddied up the readability of his pose

the swan is from a daemon au and bears no relation to my other swan characters. i just like swans a lot

[forever-rogue]

Hi! Wondering if you’re gonna be taking prompts from the 360 you posted. If you are would you be able to do 36 and 54 with Din? Would love to see those with him!

Prompts used: 36. "Does he know about the baby?"

54. "H-how long have you been standing there?"

Pairing: Din Djarin x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: pregnant reader

THE MANDALORIAN MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Boba?” you reached for the Mandalorian’s arm and stopped him from going any further into his new hold. You wondered, for an amused fraction of a second, if you should attempt to address him as King Boba, just to get a rouse out of him. But the severity, the harsh reality of your current predicament placated any desire to do so. Fett turned to face you, pulling his helmet off so he could see you properly, “might I have a moment of your time?”

“Of course,” he set the helmet down on the aging wooden table as you inhaled and exhaled slowly, “what’s wrong, little one?”

“I was wondering...once you and Fennec are settled and Din plans on leaving,” you found the ground intriguing as you studied the worn soles of your shoes before continuing on, “might I stay on? With the two of you? I-I know I’m not as skilled as either of you, but I swear I’ll pull my weight and do as much as I can - whatever you desire. I would just like to stay here.”

Boba paused for a moment as he looked you over and contemplated what you had asked him. He had no issue with you staying on, absolutely none, knowing you were both capable and a quick learner. It was the reason behind the sudden request that caused him to consider his words. As he watched you, and you grew increasingly nervous, a single tear, one of nerves and worry rolled down her cheek and fell to the sandy ground. 

“Of course you can stay,” his hand went to your shoulder as he delicately squeezed it in a sign of reassurance, “make sure your Mandalorian knows of your plan. It would be a great shock for him to be blindsided.”

“Yes.”

“Does he know about the baby?” he chanced his question, although he was sure he wasn’t too far off the mark. While he had no children of his own, he’d been around enough women to know when someone fell pregnant. Maybe the bounty hunter was extra perceptive, maybe it was a trait of the Mandalorians to all be nurturing and familial, but from the look on your face, he knew he was right on money. 

“How did you...I haven’t told anyone,” your eyes were wide with worry as you looked around to make sure no one had heard Boba. If Din were to ever find out, this would be the last way you wanted him to do so, “I-I found out two months ago and I just...I don’t know what to do. I’m scared and nervous and worried. I can’t just tell him - he’s got too much going on to worry about something else. I can’t do that to him.”

“You think it is a better idea to never tell him about his child and take away any decision he has in this?” ever the level headed negotiator, Boba had a point. Your lips pulled into a frown as you shrugged your shoulders, “he deserves to know. Whatever decision he makes after that is up to him. It will tell you his true measure, although I am sure that is already quite apparent.”

“Boba, he’s the Mand’alor now,” you reached for his arm and held it tightly in your grasp, “I-I can’t have him worry about a silly thing like this. Especially not after...Grogu.”

“Tell me then, just what do you plan on doing with the babe?” it was a fair question to ask, and one you really needed to think about. The baby was going to come one way or another, so you would need a plan as quickly as possible, “were you going to have it and hide it? Hand it off to someone else? Raise it on your own and expect that he would never find out? He is your riduur-”

“And he is the Mandalorian and the Mand’alor,” you grew frustrated, not with Boba but with yourself. You knew he was right, you knew that you needed to tell Din but… it wasn’t that simple, “I can’t hold him back with a baby.”

“Suppose you don’t tell him,” Boba held up a hand for a moment as a musing glint entered his eye, “suppose you remain here and have ths child. Do you think he’s never going to come back to see you? Or for business? It would be awfully suspicious if he came in three or four months and found you round with child. It wouldn’t take much to put two and two together. It would be a greater pain, I think, if you were not to say anything and he came back to find the truth. You owe him at least some honesty.”

“You’re right,” you confessed quietly, letting the tears roll down your cheeks, “of course you are. I’m scared, Boba. I don’t want him to be angry and hate me or the baby. I don’t want to hold him back either. I want him to be happy…”

“He’d be a lot happier if you’d come to him with this first,” the voice startled you to your core as you realized exactly who it was. Swallowing the lump in your throat, your eyes widened in worry as Boba offered you an encouraging nod. Turning on your heel, you found Din watching both of you with intent; his expression was almost unreadable as your hands started to tremble.

“How long have you been standing there?” what a stupid question from a stupid girl.

“Long enough,” his voice was pointedly neutral as you nodded in understanding, “I think we need to talk.”

“Yes,” you agreed as you shuffled over to him, preparing yourself for the worst. 

Din was silent as he led you back to the quarters that served as your temporary home while you’d helped Boba and Fennec settle into their new roles. You followed close behind and swallowed the lump in your throat as he sealed the door. 

“It is it true?” he asked softly as his gaze shifted to your belly; there was still no evidence of your pregnancy just yet. But soon enough there would be, “you’re with child?”

“Yes,” you admitted, a hand slowly coming to rest on your belly, “I am. I found out…”

“Two months ago,” he finished for you as you nodded, “and you didn’t think to tell me?”

“I was scared and nervous, Din!”

“Were you ever going to tell me?” he asked softly as you refused to meet his eyes, “Cyare?”

“I wanted to,” you whispered, “I planned on it-”

“When?!”

“Eventually,” you’d seen your husband angry before, but never quite like this...never at you, “I was scared and I panicked and there was so much happening at once.”

“You were scared?” he asked as you nodded. Din stepped closer and stopped in front of you, looking at you curiously as he realized just how hard this was for you as well, “were you scared of me?”

“No,” you grabbed his hand and quickly cut him off, “never of you. It was just everything all at once. With losing...him, everything with the Mandalorians and Boba and Fennec. There could not have been a worse time for this to happen. I-I’m sorry. I didn’t…”

“You’re sorry?” a look of confusion marred his features as his eyes softened and crinkled in the corner, “whatever are you sorry for? In case you forgot, this didn’t happen just because of you. It takes two...nothing in life seems to go to plan, but that doesn’t mean this doesn’t have to work out, Cyare. You are my riduur and that is our child.”

A large hand found your belly as he pulled you into him, wasting no precious time before he wrapped his arms around you. You hugged him back, just as tightly, just as fiercely, clinging onto him like it was the only thing in life that mattered, “I should have told you sooner, please forgive me, Din. I should have come to you first…”

“I’m glad I found out,” he whispered as he pressed gentle kisses to the side of your head before pulling back and cradling your face in his hands, “before something else happened or we were separated. I’m not mad, I’m happy - really happy. It doesn’t matter that the timing isn’t perfect or we’re in a different situation than we thought we might be. I’m happy, Cyare. I love you beyond measure, and that includes our whole family - Grogu, and whatever other children we’ll have.”

“Yeah?” you asked softly, barely above a whisper as he pressed his forehead against yours, “I love you.”

“I love you,” he agreed, “I hold you in my heart forever - you are my home, my heart, my family. We’ll figure this out together, I swear. Just promise me one thing.”

“Anything, Din.”

“Don’t stay here,” he pressed a kiss to your lips, “stay with me.”

“Yes,” your smiled against his lips, “I’m not going anywhere.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[candied-cae]

I saw this post by @the-road-goes-ever-on86 about S2 stuff and they mentioned Ed meeting Mary- and I immediately imagined a super dramatic conflict between Stede's "lovers". Something a little scary and aggressive, like Blackbeard wanting to burn the whole world down to figure out "Why did he leave me for her?" And so I wrote a thing. Enjoy!

Is Blackbeard Not Better Than Mary Bonnet?

This is Part 1 of Our Family -> Here's Part 2

Chapter 1/1 - - - Read it on AO3

Word Count : 3,864

Summary : What happens when a pirate scorned catches news that the man who abandoned him returned home to his nearly widowed wife instead of fulfilling their promise to one another? Or, maybe worser, what happens when that pirate finds out that the man he regrettably loved died saving that woman from a wild jungle cat?

That pirate finds that woman and means to take his revenge on her himself. While he's there, he might as well find out what was so special about Mary Bonnet, right?

More OMFD Fics

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It's been weeks since Stede left his old family home to sail after Edward again. In the time after, Mary and Doug felt more comfortable moving their relationship forward. To keep appearances in town, Doug was publicly keeping his own house for the time being, but he'd privately moved in with Mary and the children. They found themselves in a quite loving manner of living now that they'd been able to properly move on from Stede. As awkward as his return had been, it truly helped bring the whole marriage to a close without leaving any feelings of guilt or shame to linger. It was really what they all needed.

And Doug was great with the kids. Stede loved them, of course, but his mind was always a hundred miles away. He was never going to be the kind of father Doug could be, he was born for something else. Mary's darling loved playing games the children suggested, reading them stories, making their treats, running errands, teaching them new things, and even taking care of house chores. Sure, most people complimented him on being a good friend to Mary in her second round of Widowhood... which was less than ideal as he'd rather be complimented on his dedication as a partner. But they figured after a few more months passed they should be fine to overtly court and eventually be wed.

It was a wonderful plan at least, but those were events for other days yet to come. On this day, there were things to do. Mary was entrenched in a new composition she'd been going at, told Doug not to wait up for her, and that she'd be in late. She knew she could trust him to take care of the kids and allow her the time and freedom to work on her passion until she made enough progress that she felt like she could go inside. Hours passed and it was completely dark when she did finally exit her studio. She had finally finished it; the piece she envisioned and spent so many days revising was done. It felt good, the satisfaction that seeped into her bones after completing new work. A sensation she still felt was new as she'd never been able to have a specialty like it before Stede ran away. 'His first proper gift to her' she'd give some credit in her heart.

Stede and her were not meant for each other. They butted heads, found it impossible to understand the other's interests, had no intention of sacrificing themselves for the other even slightly. He never even would admit there was anything wrong. They were never going to work. But it could've been worse. He could've gone on denying how unhappy they were and remained anyway. When he abandoned them over a year ago, it stung, but that morning when she read the letter... Mary felt such a relief. Sure, she was now a widow, a single mother, and had so much additional responsibility. But she was free, he was free, she found community, real love, and her own heart's desire. Stede got his ship, she got her canvas, and they found the people they were meant to love. It was a fine ending to the Bonnet's marriage.

She returned to the home under the black midnight sky, only a barely-there flicker of candlelight in their bedroom window. Of course, Doug was still awake. He always managed to stay up until she was tucked in next to him. She stretched her back out with a few satisfying cracks as she walked down the hallway, quietly sweeping past the children's rooms as not to wake them. She felt bad knowing she wasn't able to kiss the kids goodnight, but she would be at the table in the morning for breakfast to plant smooches on their foreheads and ask them about their night.

She enters the door to their dimly lit bedroom and starts shedding her outer layer of clothes and untying her hair as she approaches her armoire. There's a moment of normalcy as she waits for Doug to ask about her progress on the art, as he always does. Mere seconds where everything is the same, but in low candlelight she catches the silhouette of a stranger, startling her as she drops her waistcoat with a sharp gasp.

He sat in a chair opposite to her love, Doug, who was rope bound to the other. He looked rugged and worn, with tan skin, waving black hair, streaked with grays that ran longer than her own. He was dressed fully in black, his exposed skin covered in tattoos, and dark charcoal smeared around his eyes and lower face. Those eyes were cold, and they were looking right at her.

“Who are you? What’re you doing- Doug?!” She stammers out, not even sure which question she wants the answer to first.

“I’m alright darling-“ Doug is cut off when the pirate buries a knife into the wooden chair between his legs, silencing the two.

Mary grabs a fire poker from beside the bedroom furnace and holds it like a sword. In all his experience, Blackbeard would comment that her form was off. It would be easy to disarm her if he wanted, but she wore a fierce look on her face if anything. Her knuckles were turning white with her grip like a vice on the handle and she stood resolute to defend her home.

One look around the overly lavish setup they were in and he would've guessed she'd simply scream and run for the door. A fearful little mouse running from a wild cat. The chase would've been fun, he admitted to himself. But sure, a direct conflict was bound to be more intriguing. And he was here to learn, was he not?

“Have you done anything to the kids?” She snarls at him, a far more beastly performance than he was expecting from such a prim and proper lady of higher society than he.

A hallow smile cracks across his face and he can see in her eyes that her heartbeat had dropped to her stomach, her blood run cold, she was surely thinking of a million terrible things he could’ve done to the little buggers. Her man of the house was restrained, and they are so small they couldn’t have stopped him. There was no one skilled enough to fight him off.

He lets her stew in that terror as his crooked expression seems to have her nailed in place, before he relents with a casual,“ Nothing."

"I was even so courteous as to allow dear Doug here to lay them down to bed before I came in. You ought to thank me for my candor, for being such a thoughtful house guest.” he teases, using fancy words just to watch the way it made Mary’s face twist. Like she couldn't quite make sense of the conflicting clues laid before her, he was a wild man using her world's words and demanding thanks... how was she to figure what she could do about him?

The fire poker starts shaking in her hand before she pushes out a rigid voice dripping with the contempt she can't manage to hide,” Thank you… now, what do you want?”

Then with a sudden jaunt up, Blackbeard stands and rips the blade from the wood chair, stuffing Doug's mouth with a clot of fabric to stifle any noise he might further make. He can't have this mere audience member distracting from his prey or interrupting his business.

He steps toward Mary with a loose carelessness that brings terror, how he walks so casually, nearly swinging his weight around. Like he knew he was going to win," You know, you're holding it all wrong. You’re all open and gentle with it. How do you plan to put me down like that?”

With low yelps, Mary swings the iron piece at the invader. Each attempt pulled the involuntary sound from her. It leaked out in such a way that you wouldn't even need to look at her to know she didn't know what she was doing, and that she wasn't coping with the situation in the slightest.

“I’m not even close enough for that to work, little miss. Here let me help you,” he says as he takes long steps forward in a blasé manner that makes her want to lose her mind.

Her eyes widen and she takes a shaking step back.

“Now now, don’t shrink away- I’m trying to help you. Give it another go.” he dares her.

She sets her brows to furrow further and leans in, continuing to whip her weapon through the air as Blackbeard dodges it with ease. Simple shifts to his right or left, he's even got one hand in his pocket, for god's sake. He's not even trying. He's just toying with her and still, she's completely outmatched.

“Swing and a miss, swing and a miss, and another miss. I can only do so much of the job for you, Miss Mary. Aren’t you gonna get me? Don’t you want to protect your family?!”

Tears begin to well in her eyes as she continues to swing her weapon to no avail. She was being tormented and jerked around like a plaything for his amusement.

“Oh, come on-" He says it like he's exasperated by her," It’s a fire poker, Mrs. Bonnet, not a fire slasher. Come on! Try jabbing with it!” He yells, rilling her up.

She takes his advice and tries thrusting forward with the pointed tip of the piece. At least she’s not dumb, he wonders. The rounded sides of the length of the poker would've only provided a bruise had she even managed to hit him with it. At least this way she stood a chance of leaving a mark. And after a few moments more of evading her endeavors, he gets bored. Mary’s adrenaline might be running through the roof, but there’s so little to be excited about with this pitiful performance she's providing.

He wants to bleed. Wants that sharp pain to flood his body with the feeling it knows so well. He wants to feel some real pain that can drown the pathetic emotions trying to bumble around his heart. He wanted to cover Stede’s house in that blood. He wanted to paint it with part of himself, to spill crimson on the thing that stole Stede away. So he carefully takes the stab from her improvised weapon into his left side, right on top of all the other scars. The second in his collection to be left by a Bonnet.

Her poker plunges into his skin with a sort of squelch she could’ve never even imagined had it not been happening just feet away from her. A frail scream escapes her lips and the tears fall over her lashes, a gentle trail left on her cheek as she's frozen in her place. Frozen everywhere but her grip, which loosens almost completely.

With little more than an acknowledging grunt, he comments,“ Still open" before bringing his left arm down into the iron rod, ripping it from both his gut and Mary’s hands. It falls to the ground with a clatter and he kicks it across the floor behind him, scratching the wooden floor as it slides away. His shirt was beginning to soak with his blood and the way he doesn't even care sends further terror into her heart.

"You were never going to beat me." He says as he closes in, and holds his blade to Mary's throat cornering her and pinning her against the wall.

From behind them Doug was struggling against his binds and screaming unsuccessfully into the textile. Mary holds her head up against the wall, the knife not quite pressed to her skin, yet so close she can feel its chill. More tears slip down her cheek as he seems to look over her like he's studying her.

“What do you want?” She whimpers through shaky lips.

"What do I want, what do I want..." he mutters as he casts his gaze back into her eyes," Such a vague question really."

"Please," She begs," We can give you money, possessions, I don't care. You can take any of it. Just leave us be-"

"Now, now. You were almost interesting when you had such a wild look on your face. Don't go spoiling it now with this poor, weak sight."

Mary takes a swallow of her nerves and clenches her jaw, steadying her expression.

"There we are. Much better now, little Bonnet. Now, tell me about yourself."

Her eyebrows quirk up at that," What?"

He presses the sharp edge into her neck in response, not enough to draw blood," I said, tell me about yourself. Who is meager Mary Bonnet?"

"I- I was born Mary Al-Allamby. Mary Allamby. 1690, on March - on March 15th to Victoria Archer and Lione-"

"Boooring. Don't waste my time with the boring bits." He scowls down at her.

"I don't know what you want to know!" She throws back.

"I want to know what's the point of you. What's the allure? What can you even offer?" he says as he once again looks down her body like he was also judging it inadequate.

"I don't see why that matters-" Mary tries to dismiss.

“WELL, OBVIOUSLY IT MATTERED TO HIM! I WANT TO KNOW WHY! I WANT TO KNOW HOW YOU COULD POSSIBLY BE THE BETTER! I CAN’T FIND A SINGLE REASON HE WOULD CHOOSE YOU! I'M BLACKBEARD! THE BLACKBEARD. BLACKBEARD SHOULD ALWAYS BEAT LITTLE, POOR MARY BONNET!” he barks into her face.

She slams her eyes shut at the violent yell, further tears running down as she begs the man whose name she recognizes from all the horrid stories that washed in from the sea,“ I DON'T KNOW WHO-“

“WHY DID STEDE PICK YOU?! EXPLAIN IT TO ME! BECAUSE IT DOESN'T MAKE SENSE!"

"STEDE?! THIS IS ABOU-" Mary's voice dies in her throat as she connects the dots.

Blackbeard the pirate. Stede. Him 'picking' her.

"You're Ed," she concludes with a shuttering breath.

There's a reaction there. More than when he'd been stabbed, there's a reaction to the name.

"Blackbeard." He repeats, daring her to use the other name again like that would be reason enough to gut her right then and there.

"I don't- I don't know what exactly happened between you and Stede." she manages through further stutters," But-"

"You don't know? How many times will you say you don't know? Do you know anything? Or is this head simply attached for looks?"

"I-"

"I bet you didn't even know the first thing about him. If you did, you didn't care. Yet, he ran back home to you. A little rich girl, with no skills, no knowledge, no use. And you still can't explain it to me. Might as well cut our time here then." he taunts.

"No! No, no. I- I can explain what happened."

"Sure you can, now that you'd like to stall for time. But I won't let you steal any of mine. Stede came back for little, worthless Mary and then died for her, and she doesn't even mourn. Already has another fella in bed by the time I made it to town. I'm not going to waste my time on the unfaithful Miss Bonnet for another moment." he finishes raising his knife from its place on her throat to ready his strike.

"STEDE'S NOT DEAD!" She bursts.

Once more, there's a reaction. A widening of his eyes. Shock and ache painted on his face as clearly as the black. His arm pauses in its high position, angled at her heart, yet it does not sink in for the kill.

"Stede's not dead." she says again," He came back, and - and we still didn't work - now, it was worse than before he left. And- and - and I was going to kill him."

With that, his grip on the dagger tightens as he seethes," But- But I didn't! We talked - we talked some and made a plan. And then we faked his death. So he could go back."

"You were going to kill him, and you talked it out?" he asks, doubtfully.

"Yes! We were never in love. Not for one moment. It was killing us. And he was so different, and it had ruined the life I made as a Widow. So I was going to make it real, but - but he didn't want to be here anymore either. We can barely stand one another. But you. Stede loves you."

"If this is your plan out of this, it's not a very good one."

"I swear! He asked me about me and Doug. About how we knew we were in love. And after, I hoped he could find someone who makes him feel the way we do. And he said he already had someone. Ed- he said that person was Ed." she squeals out the last bit as Edward's eyes narrow.

"They said he was maimed by a jungle cat, ran over by a carriage, and crushed beneath a piano. You're saying all that was something simply mistaken?"

"I swear it's true. We put together the scheme with a fake body and everything so he could go back to sea without all this waiting for him here. As we planned it all out, including the carriage to take him to the coast, he said it'd work because it was an excellent fuckery."

"A fuckery... he called it a fuckery?" the voice asks, seeming to have softened as he loosens his hold on her and lowers the raised weapon.

"He did. He didn't really choose me. It was more a lapse in judgment if anything. He chose you as soon as he was honest with himself. Truly."

Edward stepped back. Stede chose him. He left him, and then chose him, but then he died, and yet didn't die, and now he was on the ocean alone? This was just supposed to be a chance to answer the question that was burning a hole in him since the day Stede never showed. The truth to fill the void that remained when the news of his sure demise reached the ship. It was just supposed to be the death of Mary Bonnet, the woman who stole Stede and got him killed. But... Was Stede really searching for him? What does that even mean? Now that he did so much damage to The Revenge and her crew?

While his mind feels like it's buzzing with lightning, he is pulled from his thoughts when an offered handkerchief enters his view. He looks up at Mary's face as she holds out the piece, and that's when he realizes he's crying. Hot tears streak down his face, pulling with them the black makeup he donned as armor. If her expression was any hint, it was a genuine grant. He accepted it with a gentle hand and wiped his eyes dry while she quickly ran to her lover and removed the gag he'd placed there.

When his hands are released, Doug holds Mary's on his shoulder while she speaks to the suddenly emotional pirate in their bedroom," I don't know what happened over the months he was gone, but he was changed when he was back here. He slept restlessly. Drank too much. And once, when Doug tried to calm him, Stede looked like he'd entered a frenzied state and nearly took his head off. If it's any consolation, I think something scared him just before he arrived. Something really bad. We never loved each other as a man and wife should, and Stede particularly never really had any positive relationships in his life as far as I could tell. He didn't know how love was supposed to feel, Ed. If it seemed like he left you and picked me, it was only because he was scared and confused. He didn't know any better."

"He didn't?" Edward asked, carefully this time as his rage was dissipated and that sad wound reopened.

Had he never noticed it? Surely he would've, right? That Stede didn't even know what love was? It was true they'd barely talked of Stede's past, but... to not even know what it looked like? It was at that moment that Edward remembered that he only began to recognize real love when he was able to witness it in others after years of piracy. Stede just got out there, if he didn't know what love was on the mainland, he didn't have the time to figure it out before they planned to abandon their Acts of Grace.

"No. But the moment I started talking about loving Doug, he got this warm look on his face. Something I'd never seen from him before. And without any hesitation, he told me that his love was you. He knows better now. And he's out there, looking to get back to you."

"He's out there, right now?" Edwards asks, more to himself than the other two when he remembered what he'd just done to them" Shit - I'm... I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"Please. Think nothing of it." she excuses.

"Think nothing of it? But-" Doug begins to argue, seemingly not satisfied with Mary's quick dismissal of what nearly just happened.

Mary squeezes his shoulders rather tightly to shut him up," Please, Ed. Don't worry. I was ready to kill the man just a few weeks ago after he threatened my love and I began to worry I'd never get my life back again. I'd say this firmly evens the scorecard between our two relationships."

"Thank you. I... I need to go."

"Of course. Keep the hanky. Tell Stede we send our regards, hope he's gotten back to his dream. And of course, if you were to visit again. A heads up and less pointy things would be appreciated." she ends with a bit of a laugh to herself.

"Yes, absolutely. No more pointy things in Miss Mary's home," he says the name this time with respect like it might help wash away all the other less than gentlemanly comments he'd thrown at her.

"Sounds like a plan. Now, off with you." She says to send him away, but as he turns to race out of the house she adds," Don't run in the hall! If the kids aren't already woken up I'd like them to stay asleep through the night."

"Yes, ma'am. Apologizes again." Edward concludes as he quietly slipped from the home.

As soon as he was outside he was running. With everything he had, Ed was running. To get back to the sea and find Stede. Wherever his favorite person ended up, he'd sail every corner to catch him. There was still much to be said, questions Ed had that only Stede could answer. But Stede was alive, so he'd be able to. And if Stede was alive, talking wasn't all Ed was longing for. That first kiss was just meant to be their start. As soon as they were reunited, Edward planned to pull Stede Bonnet into his arms again and share in another.

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This is Part 1 of Our Family -> Here's Part 2

My Other Works ❤

Feel free to go and leave it a kudo on ao3 too, if you want ❤

[alwaysmarveling]

Three Strikes, You’re Out

Pairing: Yelena Belova x reader

Warnings: Black Widow spoilers, use of guns, and killing (and therefore death)

Word Count: 5.6k

A/N: Sorry for not posting anything in a while! I realize from the warnings that it sounds like angst, but I swear this is overall fluff :)

Yelena saved your life. Not once, not twice, but three times. And not in the “watch out, there’s a car!” way or the “let me save you from the bad guy coming to kill you” way. Yelena had saved your life in the “Y/N, you’re forgetting something” way and the “no, Y/N, you cannot do that” way.

---

“L/N, the person of the hour, I see…” You choked down the rising bile as Dreykov dragged a fingertip down your cheek. You refused to make eye contact with the man, firstly out of hatred and secondly because you knew that if you did, you would shiver. You hadn’t made that mistake since you were 8.

A sign of weakness, they called it. Utter, worthless, garbage, they yelled at you as they beat you in front of the others, being so ungrateful to the only man willing to give you any purpose in life. You took it like a champ, not flinching once. You learned not to do that from the girl who had gotten beaten before you.

“And have you figured out why you might be so special today, my little one?” Not gagging took so much more effort once he introduced the pet name, but you forced yourself to keep looking ahead, keep staring at the faint cracks in the dull wall ahead of you.

“No, sir.” You wished more than anything that he could be talking to one of the other girls in line with you. But here you were, with the man you hated most in the world staring you in the eye, his hand resting gently under your cheek.

“Hmm, respectful, this one,” he cooed to Madame B, as if you wouldn’t have been punished had you not addressed him properly. “Well, L/N, you see that man over there?” As if he had orchestrated the whole thing, a man was immediately dragged into the room, his whines muffled by the burlap sack over his head. The footsteps of the older girls who had brought him in were barely audible, making the man and Dreykov the only things you could hear in the large hall.

“Today is the day you kill. And he, my darling, is your victim.” Dreykov waited for a reaction from you and sighed when he got nothing. “No words, L/N?”

“Wh- where is he from?” The second you opened your mouth, you were expecting punishment—how could you be so stupid as to stutter—but it didn’t come for the reason you thought it would.

“You do not question my orders!” You barely heard his yells above the pain that erupted in your jaw, but your feet didn’t even move an inch. Further pain would come if you were stupid enough to do that. Dreykov quickly gripped your chin in between his grubby fingers. His face now centimeters from your own, he opened his mouth again. “Listen to me, little girl, it does not matter where he comes from. If I am gracious enough to grant you with a task like this, you will do it with no question. If you’d like to respond, it better be a ‘thank you’ or a ‘yes, sir.’ Am I understood?” But he didn’t give you a chance to answer, shoving your face to the left and pressing a gun into your hands. “Now. Let’s go. You’ve got an audience.”

Dreykov stepped back to stand next to Madame B, who watched you like a hawk. You already knew what she was thinking. She must’ve recommended you for this, told Dreykov you were ready for the next step. This was supposed to be a moment of pride for the both of you, but you were just embarrassing yourself and her. She’d probably take it out on you later.

The man had stopped struggling since he’d been brought in, probably realizing that there was no way out of this. At least they’d left the burlap sack over his head. But the second you started walking towards him, begging your hands to stop trembling so you could make the shot—and it had to be a perfect one—he started thrashing in his confines, screaming, begging, and pleading for his life.

“No, please! Please, you don’t want to do this! I have a family! I have a wife! And my kids, they-”

“Kill him now, L/N. I am not very patient.” It’s just like training, Y/N, focus, you told yourself as you focused in on the man’s head. Even though it moved, continuing to whip from side to side, your hands were no longer shaky as you brought them up to aim. Your heart was beating faster than it ever had before. The other girls were at least ten feet away from you, but with how hard it was pounding, you wouldn’t be surprised if they were able to see the rapid rise and fall of your chest. You wanted to apologize, untie the man and set him free, let him go back to his family… but Dreykov was waiting. So your eyes narrowed, your diaphragm relaxed, and your finger pressed down on the trigger. Twice. Once to the head, once to the heart. 

Just like that, he was gone. His pleading stopped. His breathing ceased, and his head lolled to the side.

Just like that, you had killed a man.

You had little time to think as Dreykov approached you, clapping his hands slowly. The slow, steady rhythm disgusted you. The dark red stain growing on the burlap sack made you sick. You needed out.

“Congratulations, Y/N. I expect great things from you.” He squeezed your shoulder before sweeping out of the room.

“Y/N.” You whirled around at the sound of Madame B’s voice, stern but gentler than Dreykov’s. “Take the body outside. Yelena,” Madame B called the name of the girl closest to the door. “Help her. I expect you to both be spotless when you return. Make it quick, girls.”

By the time you finally brought yourself to look back at the man, the blonde was already on her knees working on the ties around his ankles. You’d never talked to her before. It wasn’t like girls really made friends here, but she was in your class. And she was the best in your class. But the two of you had never interacted with each other beyond a sweeping glance over each other’s faces before moving on to the next girl. You’d never even partnered together for fight training. 

But you didn’t have time to worry about Yelena; your focus was on pushing yourself to get closer to the man. If you got there fast enough, maybe you’d make it in time to hear his last breath, to say sorry. But you were devastated to find that you were a few minutes too late, your hope making you as naive as a toddler. Instead, as your fingers fumbled with the rope around his wrist, you felt a wet drop land on your hand. You looked down expecting to be repulsed by the blood, but the drop was crystalline, clear. A tear. But, with no more ties to support the man’s body, the corpse fell into your arms, and you were forced to focus on helping Yelena support the dead weight.

You and Yelena brought the body out of the room, taking it around the back to where it would be dealt with as you slept that night. Neither of you said a word the whole time. Your hands shook, and you were certain Yelena could see it as the torso of the man shakily rose and fell, never quite matching the stilted rhythm of your steps. You dropped the body, but Yelena replaced your empty hands with her own as she silently led you to a bathroom. The faucet handles squeaked as you turned them. Your stare into the mirror was as empty as your earlier gaze at the wall, but still, something was missing.

There was no more determination, no more strength. And whatever scrap of innocence you had managed to maintain up until this point was gone. You were no longer a girl, not even a woman. You were a monster.

But your hands were clean. Yes, a long study of your hands told you that all of the man’s blood was gone, washed down the drain. But the begging? The completely desperate pleading of a man who knew he had no other choice, that even sobbing for his life was practically hopeless?

You reached again for the bar of soap, pressing it into your skin. Your nails dug into the backs of your palms, a last-ditch effort to somehow cleanse the inside of you. If you went just a little harder, you’d make yourself bleed. But that would be good, yes, that would be good because the soap could mix with your blood and-

“Y/N.” Yelena reached for your hands and pulled them apart. Your right hand was still clenched around the soap, not letting it go even though it was begging to slip through your grip. “Stop.”

You turned to her, your eyes wide. She’d done it before you. The first of your year to do it. Madame B swelled with pride when she had taken the shot. But she was fine. Yelena was standing in front of you, her hands dried long before, her knees were stable. How’d she do it?

“You’ll be okay,” she murmured.

“H- how are you…?” You couldn’t finish, but she knew what you were saying anyway.

“The pain only makes us stronger, I think. You’ll be okay.” You nodded slowly, allowing Yelena to take the soap from you and shut the faucet once all the bubbles left your skin. You moved to leave the bathroom and return to the hall, where you would have to return to training as if nothing had happened. A firm hand pulling on your elbow stopped you.

“Y/N, you’re forgetting something.” Yelena turned the faucet back on and wet her thumb before brushing it along your cheek. “There. Spotless.” You couldn’t see what she had wiped off until you noticed the red staining her skin. Oh.

“Yelena, his voice…” The blonde rinsed off her thumb and shut off the sink before turning back to you.

“The pain only makes us stronger,” she repeated, giving your shoulders a firm squeeze.

“The pain only makes us stronger,” you whispered. Your voice betrayed you, though, cracking on the last word as if it knew something was wrong.

The man stopped begging when the bullet entered his brain. But his voice would never stop. No, it would forever live on with you. It would forever haunt you.

---

“I don’t understand why we have to do this.”

“Because if we don’t, we’ll die.”

“So what? What if we do?” The blonde stopped looking out of the scope of her gun to turn to you. Her brows were furrowed and her mouth hung slightly open, but you simply rolled your eyes. You had seen this look many times.

“You did not come this far in the Red Room to give up now, Solee.” And there was that nickname again. Yelena gave it to you after she helped clean you up that one time, and from then on, she rarely used your actual name unless if others were around. But she never explained what it meant, even now, years later, and you could never figure it out.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. The pain only makes us stronger.”

“Good.” The spy, now satisfied, turned back to her gun. 

“But it’s killing everyone else around us.” Yelena sighed, putting her gun away once more.

“It’s called self-preservation, Solee. We do this to stay alive.” Yelena wasn’t sure why Dreykov’s mind control didn’t work as well on you as it did on the others. You still had to do whatever he ordered you to, of course, but your mind was never in it. You didn’t have the singular focus about it that all the others did. You still had a heart, had morals.

But she also wasn’t sure why she listened. She could easily turn you in to Dreykov and rat you out for questioning his orders; she’d certainly be forced to if Dreykov had ever asked her about you. There would be no question about your fate. You’d be killed immediately, written off as just another failure.

Yet, Dreykov had never asked, and when she helped you after you took the life of your first victim, it was like some part of her was forever stuck to you and she couldn’t pull away if she tried. So she did her best to appeal to you, convince you to stay on the mission, even tried to adjust the mission plans so that she was the one taking the kill and not you. But this time, both of you needed to infiltrate, and you’d likely be the one pulling the trigger.

“Besides, it’s not like this one has any good in him. He had it coming.”

“But his family,” you murmured. From your stakeout point, you had the perfect view of the house’s kitchen. The man’s husband and his two kids laughed around the table as they got ready for their day. Someone had turned on the radio a bit earlier, and they danced as they prepared their things. You wouldn’t be taking their lives, but you sure would be ruining them. “They’ve done nothing wrong. They don’t know who he really is. This will destroy them.”

Yelena stayed silent as she continued to fiddle with her weapon. You two wouldn’t move in until later, when the target’s family had left for the day, but she liked to be prepared.

“Maybe I can leave a note or something.” That had Yelena looking up instantly.

“No. No, Y/N, you cannot do that.”

“It won’t be long, just a quick wri-” The blonde stood up and clapped a hand over your mouth.

“Writing a letter could be used to track us down. We cannot leave something like that behind. We can’t leave anything behind. Dreykov wants us in and out. Do you understand?” She could tell from the way that your eyes started to shine that you did. There was no other way about it. And she didn’t mean to be harsh, but she had to if you were going to stay alive.

“But they deserve to know, Leni.” Yelena knew exactly what you were talking about.

“This man is not the same one as the first you killed, Solee. He is not innocent. His family will find out the truth, they always do.” When you finally nodded, she lifted her hand away and returned to her seat beside you. 

-

“You’re quiet.” Yelena’s concern was clear from the way she pursed her lips together. The gravel dug into your palms as you leaned back even further onto them. You looked at your feet before responding, rolling your ankles as if sitting there for less than an hour was the most arduous thing you ever had to do.

“I’m just tired.” Someone else might’ve asked how much sleep you had gotten the night before or asked you if you had your morning cup of coffee. But Yelena wasn’t someone else, and she knew you never really slept and you hated coffee. And she knew physical exhaustion wasn’t your problem.

“It’ll be okay, Solee.”

“Who’s going to tell them that?” You nudged your chin in the direction of the group of three as they ran into the car. They were running late, but they all still had smiles on their faces. You wondered how soon that would change. Yelena didn’t respond; she didn’t know how to. So she settled for resting a hand over yours as the two of you watched the family pull out of the driveway. It was time.

-

“Solee, what are you doing? We need to get out of here.”

“I can’t just leave like this. I can’t leave them like this.” Your hands were practically shaking as you paced the length of the kitchen, the same one the target’s family had been in that same morning. Technically it was still morning. You had the letter drafted. You’d been thinking of the exact words you needed to write. All you needed was Yelena’s approval, and-

“They will be ok-”

“They will not be okay! Pain doesn’t always make you stronger, Leni, it doesn’t!” Yelena froze as you collapsed to your knees in tears, but she quickly burst into action, pulling you up and into her arms. A glance at the window told her that you two were safe for the time being, but you had to get back before Dreykov became suspicious.

“Solee, now is not the time to be having this conversation. You will be killed if you do this, you know that. I’m sorry, but we really need to go.” Part of Yelena’s heart shattered when you pulled yourself together in less than a second, going from a sobbing, devastated girl to a composed spy in the blink of an eye. She hated that you had to do that. That you knew how to do that. But the other part of her heart soared because it meant that you were still trying, still pushing. And if she was honest with herself, some part of her hoped it was because of her that you were still going.

“There is never time to have this conversation, Leni. And is all this really worth it?”

-

“Yelena, Y/N! Dreykov wishes to see you. Now.” The two of you met Madame B’s gaze, each giving her a slight nod before slipping away from the rest of the group to find his office. Neither of you spoke as Yelena fell into step with you.

“Another mission, you think?” You shrugged, your face indifferent, causing the blonde to frown. You’d been closed off, cold even, since the two of you had come back from the mission. She’d been trying to get you to crack even the smallest of smiles, but all of her efforts had been nothing but futile. “Solee, what’s wrong? Please, tell me.”

“Nothing’s wrong, Leni. Let’s just see what Dreykov wants, yeah?” The spy finally nodded when the corner of your lip curled up slightly. It was barely noticeable, but it was something, and that was the best you’d given her or anyone else these past few days. So she forced herself to push past the tight knot forming in her gut and walk with you silently to meet Dreykov.

The second the two of you made it into Dreykov’s office, the door was shut, and Yelena almost let out a yell when you were hit across the face. Wow, whatever you were hit with was hard.

“Which one of you let it slip?”

“I- I don’t- what are you talking about?” It took everything in the blonde to not let her temper get the best of her. Of course, she couldn’t do anything, but she sure as hell wanted to. Rather than explaining verbally, Dreykov launched a live news feed on a screen that covered the entire wall. The camera focused on the target’s family as a headline below read: “Family Blindsided By Assassination of Major Mob Boss.” The two of you had mere seconds to soak up what was going on before Dreykov spoke up again, his voice now more even.

“A betrayal like this could get us revealed. So, which one of you pathetic fools let it slip?”

“We don’t know what you’re talking about,” you spat out after composing yourself. “Neither of us said anything to anybody.” Dreykov narrowed his eyes at you as he approached.

“Listen here, Y/N. You may be one of my best, but don’t think for one second that I won’t have you killed. Those lies will not work here. Tell me the truth.” He could threaten you all he wanted to, force you to tell the truth no matter how badly you wanted to keep a secret; he could do anything to you, make you do anything. But you weren’t scared. Adrenaline was rushing through your veins, but you were tired of the Red Room and its horrors. You were done.

“I. Am. Not. Lying.” You barely noticed it, but a flash of surprise swept across the man’s face for just a moment. You weren’t too surprised by it; it wasn’t like the other girls had been so bold when they addressed him. And you supposed the blood dripping down your face made you a bit more intimidating. But just as quickly as the look appeared, it was gone, and he turned to Yelena.

“Yelena? The same thing goes for you. You are good, I’ll admit, and it would be such a shame to lose you, but if one of you doesn’t come clean, there could be… consequences.” Yelena opened her mouth to deny it. She knew nothing about how the reason for the assassination could have been discovered; to her knowledge, neither of you did. You were both innocent. But, as she opened her mouth to talk, Dreykov turned away, one hand to his ear. Seconds later, he turned back to the two of you, a smile on his face.

“Never mind, my darlings. You may go now. I will handle this. Oh, and Y/N? Go get that cut checked out. I’m afraid it looks rather deep.”

-

Several days later, it was publicly revealed that the target had numerous deals slipping through. Many people were mad at him, and he was getting desperate. A suicide note was carefully slipped into the target’s home—how could the police be so careless as to miss that?—and everything was forgotten. But the permanent scar you had going across your eyebrow would never let you forget it. It would never let you forget how, once again, Yelena had saved your life.

---

You looked down on the brightly lit kitchen and were immediately hit with a sense of deja vu. It was a woman this time, and the kids were older, but it was the same.

No. No, it wasn’t the same. Because this man was innocent. He’d done nothing more than pick up a hard drive one of the rookie Widows had dropped. And while she’d been punished, he now had to be dealt with.

It also wasn’t the same because Yelena wasn’t here with you.

It’d been two months since Yelena had “gone rogue,” or at least that’s what everyone else called it. But you knew what it really meant. Yelena had been freed. She was no longer trapped under the influence of Dreykov. She didn’t have to be a killing machine anymore. But she also didn’t have to be with you. She can’t be with you, you reminded yourself. If you saw her, you would have to kill her whether you wanted to or not. And if not having Yelena with you was hell, then killing her would be… killing her would be the end of you.

But hell certainly wasn’t fun. With Yelena gone, that left you in charge of most missions. Dreykov was supposed to be overseeing, but you hadn’t heard much from him recently. Nevertheless, the missions kept coming, which meant you still had a job you had to do. A job you couldn’t do. You didn’t have the same objectiveness as Yelena. You couldn’t cut out your emotions to see the bigger picture, and with Yelena gone, it would be so much easier to just… be done with everything. But there was always that one thing nagging you. It rang in your head every time your hand brushed just over your brow and every time that man’s pleas rang in your ears.

You did not come this far in the Red Room to give up now, Solee.

So you’d do your best to stay alive in hell, but to be completely honest, you weren’t sure how much longer you were going to last.

-

“Y/N, you ready? Target is in place.”

“I’m ready. Remember, we make this one quick. This man died of a tragic heart attack.” You had the syringe in your pocket. Normally, Dreykov would prefer you to stage it as murder. But this man was innocent, and Dreykov hadn’t been responding to your communication attempts in ages. So the team followed your lead. “Understood?”

“Copy.” With confirmation coming in from your earpiece, you made your way down from your hideout, taking care to avoid being spotted by the occasional passerby or home security camera. You had several Widows posted around the area to alert you of potential obstacles, and two Widows would enter the house with you in case of any unforeseen troubles, but this should be an easy job. Once again, this man was innocent. How many precautions would a man take for his safety if he had no reason to believe he was in danger?

But when you had your eyes locked on the target and asked for a report from your accompanying widows, your earpiece stayed silent. A quick check-in with those in the perimeter showed that nothing suspicious was going on inside, which meant there must’ve been something, someone else, in that house.

A quick glance at your watch had you cursing. You’d been staking this man out for a few weeks now, and his mother was scheduled to come to the house in less than thirty minutes. You didn’t have much time to find out what was going on with the other two Widows. Get the man first, worry about them later, you decided. They were highly trained; whatever was going on couldn’t be that bad. But just as you swung out, syringe in hand, you were tackled to the side, and the needle flew out of your grasp. So this is what took out the other Widows. But you weren’t going down that eas-

“Leni?” Your eyes widened in shock for a second before you immediately charged at her. And no matter how loudly your brain was screaming at you to stop, your body was on autopilot, and, now, completely submitting to the orders of someone that wasn’t you, it was the most ruthless it had ever been. It was demonstrating in full force just how you had earned your reputation as one of the Red Room’s best. And while this was a reputation you had always been ashamed of, you had never hated yourself so much as you did when you attacked Yelena. Luckily for you, she was also one of the best.

“This is so completely and utterly stupid, Leni,” you managed to grit out as you tripped her to the floor. “What are you thinking?”

“Don’t,” Yelena paused to avoid another punch in her direction, “worry about me. I’m trying to help you, you fool!”

“You’re trying to get yourself killed!”

“I’m sorry, Solee.” Before you had time to retort, the two Widows you’d been looking for stumbled into the room. Unlike attacking Yelena like you thought they would, they slammed you to the ground before you had time to land a kick to Yelena’s torso. The shock of their attack was enough to keep you down for a second, just fast enough for a vial of red dust to explode across your face. 

Yelena studied your face as you were exposed to the chemical agent, waiting desperately to see the telltale signs of disorientation that showed it was working. Much to her dismay, they never came, but she soon realized why as your eyelids slowly shut. When they reopened, your face was brighter than she’d ever seen it, a small smile gracing your lips.

“It’s over,” you laughed, immediately jumping into her arms. “It’s really… it’s really over?”

“It’s over, Solee. You’re done. Never again.”

-

A knock at the door brought your eyes away from the window and towards the blonde, a smile automatically growing at the sight of her. “Hey, you comfortable? Do you need anything? I brought a sweatshirt. It’s one of mine, but you should borrow it. It gets a bit cold at night.” You took the gray piece of clothing from the former spy with a grateful nod.

“So this is where you’ve been all this time?” You looked around the bedroom once more. It was nothing special, literally just a room with a gray dresser and a bed in a wood frame surrounded by white walls, but it was yours. Well, technically you didn’t own it, but you would get to sleep here, by yourself; Yelena had even told you that the two of you could go out to get some decorations for it later.

“We move around as we need to, but yes, we’ve been here for some time.” She paused, the silence not quite like the comforting one that usually fell between the two of you. She was waiting for something. To ask something. “Do you like it?”

“Are you kidding me?” The blonde relaxed at your laugh. “I love it. And the other Widows do too. That’s seven of us that you’ve saved today, eight if you count that man, and eleven if you count his family.” Yelena shook her head gently at the last part of your sentence. Nothing meant more to her than her family, but she was amazed at your compassion, caring not just about your family, but the family of every person you ever came across. “Do you always save this many people in one day?”

“Only on the good days,” Yelena sighed softly.

“Today was a good day then?”

“The best.” When Yelena’s hands slipped into yours, you watched the link just as carefully as she watched you as she made the connection. You weren’t pulling away, but you weren’t… you weren’t moving. Yelena could feel her heart stop beating, her throat closing, her diaphragm freezing. You guys had never moved past a friendship, but she’d always assumed it was because you never could. But maybe the real reason was that you didn’t want it to be anything more than that. Maybe-

“Why, because I’m finally here to make things fun?” It was that one joke, accompanied by a squeeze of her hands, that brought her body back to life.

“No, because we had mac and cheese for dinner,” she scoffed. “Always so humble, huh?”

“Yep, that sounds just like me.” The two of you fell into a fit of giggles, just like you always did when you were together. But this time it was different. For once in your lives, there was nothing holding you back. There were no targets to eliminate, no families to destroy, no Dreykov or Madame B telling you to stop being so pathetic and get on with it already. You were both free at last.

“Leni,” the soft call of her voice had the blonde meeting your eyes. You pulled her hands closer to you before you spoke, effectively pulling Yelena closer to you. “Thank you-”

“You have nothing to thank me for, Solee, I-”

“I have everything to thank you for, Leni. You saved me the first time you helped me, and that time you didn’t let me write that letter, and now today. I don’t know how much longer I could’ve kept going if you didn’t free me today. You saved my life.”

“And you give me life, Solee. Nothing in the Red Room was real. The fake pity Dreykov gave us, the ‘purpose’ that they gave us, none of it. But you were, and you still are, the only thing I knew to be real during all those years in that hellhole. You are my heart and soul.” Oh. Soul-y. That was the nickname. “You are the reason I am here today. So thank you.” You watched as she brought the palm of your hand up to her cheek. But when she turned to press a kiss to your hand, your eyes closed on their own accord, as if they knew it was too much to watch her perform the intimate action. You didn’t want to watch it, you needed to feel it.

And feel it you did. The warmth of her lips against your calloused hands, the gentle yet strong support of her fingers wrapped around yours... in less than twenty-four hours you had gone from hell to absolute heaven.

You slowly opened your eyes when her lips were replaced by her cheek.

“Feel good, Souly?” The former spy asked with a chuckle. You hummed, studying her face before responding.

“I can think of something else that might be better.” Yelena simply quirked an eyebrow at you, but the slight smirk on her lips told you she knew exactly what you might be referring to. So with one last flicker of your eyes from her eyes to her lips and back to her eyes, you closed the gap between the two of you—or maybe she did, you honestly weren’t sure—and your lips melted into hers. All the emotions you had felt, were feeling, and could ever feel were poured into the kiss. It was sweet, gentle, and pure, your stomach aflutter with butterflies and your chest swelling with joy, but it was also raw, passionate, and emotional, saying more than two emotionally constipated former assassins ever could.

You two finally separated with your foreheads pressed together, puffs of air being exhaled against each other’s lips as you attempted to fill your lungs with the oxygen it had been deprived of for so long.

It was a while before either of you even thought about speaking again. But there was no need to, not right now. You could talk about what you were later. For now, both of you were perfectly content to stay in each other’s embrace; she, having your whole heart, and you, her soul.

-----

🏷 : @vancityfire13

[pappydaddy]

Heather: Part Three (j.m)

  A/N: I know I have a few requests still to get out, but I was listening to Heather the other night and I just can’t get my mini-series out of my head so here is the third part to Heather that nobody asked for! I am working on those requests so don’t worry! They will be out soon! 

Sorry this took so long to actually get published. I was trying to publish the last two requests I have first, but that has proven difficult as my brain refuses to come up with a name for one (the same one that ended up longer than I expected). So, instead of just not posting and stewing in this issue (which would make it worse) I decided to continue to write on my days off and hope I come up with something so I can finish these requests for you lovelies! 

Anywho, I hope you enjoy the final instillment of the Heather series! I am definitely going to miss writing the series, it was fun, but all good things must come to an end eventually I guess. But, on a postive note, I have a lot of new fics lined up to work on/finish working on/publish AND I have the Fearless Collection masterlist ready to publish! But, anyway, I hope you lovelies enjoy this fic! xx 

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

TV Show/Movie: Outer Banks

Taglist: @rottenstyx​​

AU where the treasure hunt did not turn into what it is in the show. No Bahamas, no Ward/Rafe psychopathy, etc. 

Not Requested

Here is the inspiration for this part: heather x a thousand years x before you go (Creds to the creater and Iqwan Rezza on Youtube for posting it) 

Warnings: Angst, a bit of pining, a little emotional, happy ending, fluff.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three - You’re here!

masterlist | taglist | wips | navigation 

- not my gif -

  Nothing had changed. The entire school year had passed with only quick shared glances and tight lipped smiles. Sometimes, if JJ was lucky, he would be able to hear her voice as she talked to someone else or the group would correctly guess her section at The Wreck. While he lived off those few seconds of interaction, they killed her inside. Sure, Heather wasn’t in the picture, having moved on with some Kook who was a much better fit for her, but that didn’t erase the hurt she felt. She might not ever come to terms with the fact that JJ would never feel the same way about her as she felt about him, but she had to try; even if that meant distancing herself from him. 

  She couldn’t take the feeling of her heart being ripped apart anymore. She couldn’t take the nights spent crying into her pillow, the hours spent comparing herself to the girls he had been involved with before - wracking her brain to figure out what they had that she didn’t or how she could be more like them. She hadn’t been functioning properly, consumed by the anguish and the wish that she could just have him look at her the way she looked at him for even a second. Loving JJ was the only thing she knew, but she needed to forget that. She needed to live a healthy life and the first step towards that was to get over him. 

  There were times that she found it hard to stay away from the blonde haired boy proved to be just as difficult as it was in the beginning. Now being one of those times. She tried her best to keep her gaze off him, busying herself with digging through the cooler in search of a bottle of water. The party around her was loud, drowning out any chance of her hearing the voice she loved so much as he talked to John B, both boys nursing a solo cup filled with foamy warm beer (the keg finally running low). She thanked the heavens profusely for having the area of sand people designated as a dance floor between them, the dancing bodies blocking them from each other. “Hey, Y/N,” Jack called, running up the beach towards her, his hair dripping with salt water. Peering over her shoulder, she noticed him veering off from the cluster of people who had just left the rolling waves. “Toss me a water!” 

  She grasped the water that she was pretending not to see, the cold bottle dripping as she pulled it from the water. It arched in the night air, Jack easily catching it with one hand. “Have fun?” She asked, grabbing a bottle for herself. Jack nodded, guzzling the water. Water droplets rolling from his face, trailing along his shirtless torso. Y/N blinked rapidly, turning her eyes from her friend as if the sight burned her eyes. It wasn’t her dark haired friend she saw standing there, it was the resident bad boy himself. Instead of Jack’s bare torso, the water was sensually rolling against JJ’s tanned abs, his sandy blonde hair dark with water, hanging in his eyes perfectly. 

  “Yeah, you should have been in there! The water is great,” He panted, twisting the cover on the bottle. He turned to gesture to the waves crashing onto the sand dramatically. “I don’t understand how you could even consider giving all of this up to go to New York City, you’re not even a city girl - you belong at the beach!” He exclaimed, shaking his head in disbelief. 

  “I’m not one hundred percent sure I am going to New York yet, I am only going to scout out the city and NYU, see what they offer,” She told him, rolling her eyes. “I might even end up staying here or going to LA, either way, nothing is set in stone yet.” She added in, taking a sip of her own water. No matter if her future wasn’t set in stone, she knew for sure that she was leaving Outer Banks. Not only was being around JJ detrimental to her plan of getting over him, but the fact that every single inch of this town reminded her of him was killing any chance she ever had of moving on. She had to get out, the weight of her feelings suffocating her. 

  “I just don’t get it,” Jack shrugged, his eyes on the dark sea. “You love OBX, why are you so eager to leave?” He asked, finally glancing at her. A few drops from his hair hit her cool skin, but she didn’t mind. 

  “I’ve out grown Outer Banks I guess. It’s just too small for me now.” She muttered softly, her eyes dropping the the bottle in her hands, fiddling with it. She didn’t want to leave Outer Banks, it was always her plan to go to the mainland for College so that her and the Pogues could still be friends, even Pope wanted to try and go to the mainland, but plans change. 

  “To each their own.” Jack spoke, bringing the water bottle back to his lips, taking a swig. Y/N hummed, her eyes lifting from her own water bottle, naturally travelling over the herd of dancing teenagers, who were celebrating the end of another school year, to land on the very person she was trying to get away from. He was still deep in a conversation with John B, his muscle shirt ripping in the strong breeze coming off the water, his blonde hair ruffling in it as well. She gulped, a pang stabbing through her heart. Leaving was the only option. 

  “I’m gonna head out, I’ve got to start packing, see you.” She told Jack, tearing her eyes from JJ. She didn’t give Jack a chance to respond, turning on her heel and trudging up towards the dunes. She didn’t spare a glance at JJ or anybody for that matter, keeping her head pointed to the sand under her feet. She missed the double take JJ took, his magnificent blue eyes following her as she climbed the dunes, disappearing quickly. 

____

  She was sure that by going to the mainland to shop, she would avoid JJ, that was the only reason she even thought of accompanying her Kook cousin to the mainland. It was as if she had a curse bestowed on her because while the older girl pulled Y/N through the clothing store, her eyes locked in the devastatingly gorgeous blue eyes of JJ Maybank. “Oh! Y/N/N, you have to get this, it would be great to get into the nightclubs of NYC,” Her cousin exclaimed, inspecting a body-con dress. “You might even be able to get away without being carded, the cleavage is pretty low.” 

  Y/N turned her eyes from JJ’s, looking at the price tag hanging off the black material. “And if I get this, I won’t be able to afford food.” She pointed out, rolling her eyes. Her cousin certainly wasn’t down to earth, often times not realizing how privileged she was. 

  “Nonsense! I know that,” Her cousin scoffed, tossing the dress to Y/N. “That’s why I am buying everything for you, I can’t let you go to NYC in the clothes you can afford, it would be a catastrophe-” She stopped, looking over her shoulder at Y/N. “No offence.” 

  “None taken.” Y/N grumbled, following her cousin through the store as she continued to throw articles of clothing at her. She couldn’t stop her eyes from trailing across the impeccably clean floor of the store, lifting over the racks of clothes that separated her from JJ, finally finding him in the same spot. Kiara, Pope, and John B were all in a heated discussion as Sarah and Kiara combed slowly through the rack. JJ, on the other hand, was even more unengaged in the conversation than Sarah (at least she was throwing in some remarks here and there). He was completely distanced from whatever his friends were talking about, his eyes locked on Y/N. Her mouth fell open a bit when she realized that he was starting at her, causing her to lightly gasp and dart her eyes back to her cousin, a blush heating her cheeks. 

  “That reminds me, I have to pick things up to make a kit for you before we go back to the island, okay? For survival and safety.” Her cousin snapped her fingers making Y/N lift her eyes to her. 

  “Like what?” Y/N furrowed her brows, trying to ignore the feeling of JJ’s eyes on her. Her cousin picked up another piece of clothing, looking at it for a second then tossing it as Y/N. 

  “Pepper spray, little things to put on your keychain for safety. Then for the other safety, condoms,” She shrugged, tossing a pair of shorts at Y/N. A choking cough sounded behind them, startling the two girls. Y/N froze, knowing who it was easily, but her cousin turned with startled eyes. “Do you know what boy over there? He’s staring at you and he nearly choked on his own spit when he heard me talk.” She asked, whispering to Y/N while keeping her eyes on JJ. 

  “What boy-” 

  “Hey! You,” Her cousin cut her off, yelling towards JJ. Y/N turned to look at the group, her mouth agape in embarrassment, another blush crawling up her neck. The group look at her cousin, seeing Y/N. “Do you know my cousin? Y/N?” She asked, pointing to the shorter girl as if they could mistake her for someone else. 

  “Yes, they know me, now can we please go pay for this, I think I have enough clothes.” Y/N turned back around, speaking harshly through gritted teeth. Her cousin looked down at her with furrowed brows, looking between the stunned group and Y/N. Sighing, Y/N sent her a pleading look, hoping that she would take the hint. Awing in realization, her cousin nodded, turning on her heel and walking straight to the cash. 

  “I don’t get why you didn’t want to go say hi to them, especially that blonde boy, he was cute.” She wondered, glancing over her shoulder as Y/N placed the pile of clothes on the counter in front of the cashier. Not even daring to intrude on the conversation, the girl got to work ringing in all the clothes. 

  Y/N grumbled, keeping her eyes on the counter. “It’s a long story.” She shifted her weight from foot to foot, obviously uncomfortable. 

  “Good thing we have time to talk about it then,” Her cousin insisted, flashing her credit card at the cashier, her eyes locked on Y/N who avoided her eyes at all costs. Unfortunately for her, her eyes had just so happened to skim by JJ and like a magnet, they were stuck on him once again. Now, his eyes were locked with Kie’s as she aggressively whispered to him, the rest backing her up. She let her eyes drink him in while she could. The way his blonde hair looked almost as beautiful as it did in the sun even when he stood under the florescent lights of the store. “You can start by explaining why you keep longingly staring at the cute blonde and why he couldn’t keep his eyes off you either.” Her cousin scared her, making her jump. 

  “You can assume I am telling the truth all you want, doesn’t mean I actually will.” She pointed out, letting her cousin lead her out of the store into the rest of the mall. She missed the way JJ’s eyes followed her, but her cousin most certainly caught it. 

  “If you even try to lie to me, I will march right over to them and get the truth and don’t think I won’t.” Y/N had no doubt in her mind that the words that left her cousin’s mouth were one-hundred percent true, this was the same girl who marched right up to Y/N’s first boyfriend and asked him if they were dating because Y/N refused to tell her. Sighing, Y/N slumped in defeat. 

  “Alright, but don’t say I didn’t warn you that it was a long story when you’re complaining about having to listen to me for hours.”

____

  Y/N hummed lightly along with the tune playing through her earbuds. Her eyes were softly closed, enjoying the feeling of the warm sun on her face as she walked down the street. She was returning from the corner store, having stopped there for some toiletries she needed in order to finish packing. She was unaware of JJ spotting her from where he stood by the parked Volkswagen van in a parking lot. He hurriedly told his friends where he was going before he jogged to catch up to her. He could faintly hear the bass line of the song she was listening to through her earbuds. 

  Jogging around her, flipping around so that he was walking backwards, he noticed that her eyes were closed. Clearing his throat, her eyes opened in confusion, widening when she saw JJ walking in front of her. He ducked his head down, signalling for her to pull her earbuds out. She complied, her brows furrowed. “JJ?” She asked, panic settling in her chest. 

  “Hey, Y/N,” JJ waved awkwardly, his hand slipping into his pocket after. She sent a small wave back at him, fighting the desire to let her eyes fall to the pavement under her feet. “Haven’t talked to you for a while.” He said nervously, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. 

  “Yeah, I’ve been pretty busy, you know how it is.” She nodded, jabbing the toe of her converse into the pavement, kicking a few loose rocks in the process. JJ nodded even though he knew she wasn’t too busy to talk to him, but he kept that to himself. He was lucky enough to have her talking to him right now and he wasn’t going to ruin it by accusing her of avoiding him even if he knew full well that was what she was doing. As much as he wanted to know what he had done, he didn’t want to risk pushing her farther away. 

  “I heard that you were going to New York for a few weeks.” JJ brought up, jamming his hands into his short pockets. 

  “Yeah, I am,” Y/N nodded, her eyebrow jumping as she rolled her suddenly very dry lips together. “My flight leaves in a week and I’m staying there for two weeks tops.” 

  “Uh, what-” He paused, swallowing thickly before clearing his throat. “What are you going to do in New York? It’s a pretty big city, Sin City, am I right?” He let out a dry chuckle. 

  “That’s actually Las Vegas, but I guess in a way you can call New York that,” Y/N corrected him with a shrug and a nervous chuckle of her own. “I’m going to look at NYU.” 

  “Your mom’s alma mater,” JJ remembered. “Bet you’re really considering that, probably will make you feel closer to her.” 

  “Yeah, that thought never really crossed my mind,” Y/N admitted. “I don’t know if i’d want to feel closer to the woman who left me to pursue her Broadway dreams,” She continued on, shrugging once again. “I just know that colleges love legacies so I’m thinking that with my mom being an alumni, I’d get a leg up.” 

  “I don’t think you need a leg up, you could get into any college you want. And last time I checked that was East Carolina.” 

  “Just thought it’d be good to check out other options, can’t live in North Carolina forever, right?” She lied, letting a fake smile slip onto her lips, hoping that he would buy it. JJ nodded slowly, not seeming to buy her lies or fake smile. 

  “Right-”

  “Anyway, I am really sorry, but I have to go a finish getting ready. Lots to do before I leave,” She rushed, putting one earbud back in. “It was nice seeing you JJ.” Was the last thing she said before she jammed her other earbud in and slipped past him once again. 

____

  No matter how hard she tried, she just couldn’t shake the heavy weight of JJ’s eyes on her as she moved around the close to empty restaurant, wiping the tables down carefully and flipping the chairs up on them. His brilliant blue eyes hadn’t left her as the group of them stood at the counter, Pope and John B bugging Kiara as she tried to count the money in the till and work out the float for tomorrow. JJ would normally partake in the bugging of his friend, but his mind weighted heavy on Y/N. 

  Taking a deep breath, she flipped the last chair up into the table and bent down to grab her bucket of sanitizer, dropping her rag in it. “Hey, Y/N, heard you’re heading to the big city on Monday!” John B turned his eyes to his other friend as she walked behind the counter they grouped around. 

  “Yeah, I guess I am.” She breathed out, setting the bucket down to look at him, one hand coming to rest on her hip as she rested her other one on the counter by the bucket. 

  “Pick me up one of those cheesy shirts, huh,” He asked before holding a finger up straight then pointing it at her. “Get me a foam finger too! Oh, and got matching ones for Sarah, I want to embarrass her next time we go to the mainland.” 

  Y/N let out a breathy chuckle, a sound that almost had JJ’s knees giving out. He hadn’t heard that beautiful, breathy chuckle for so long. He wished he could constantly hear it, having it on replay in his mind forever. But sadly, the sound was gone as soon as it came, along with the soft smile she showed to the floor. “I’ll see what I can do for you, John B.”

  “Hey, you can go dump the bucket and clock out for the night, you probably have lots of packing to do,” Kiara told her as she slipped the float money into the till before putting the rest in a bag. “Make sure to leave room for all the things you’re gonna buy me over there.” She winked, zipping the money bag up. 

  “Oh, please, just for me, please take a picture of the Compleat Strategist store?” Pope begged, clasping his hands together, pouting at the girl who laughed again and darted her face back to the floor to hide the soft smile on her lips. JJ barely missed the glimpse of the smile, but thanks to his eyes remaining locked on her, he was able to get a tiny peek. 

  “What is that?” John B asked, turning to look at Pope. 

  “It’s a board game store. It has board games, role playing games, card games-” Pope started to list off. “They even have games that aren’t in print anymore. I just want to see what the store looks like. All I want. If you do that for me, I will love you forever.” Pope directed the last, pleading bit towards Y/N as she worked at untying her apron. 

  “Of course, Pope. I’ll get you tons of pictures of that store,” She reassured him, gently placing her apron over her arm. “Now, if you guys will excuse me, I have to get packing.” She bid them goodbye, grabbing the bucket and making her way into the back. She still felt JJ’s eyes on her until the doors swung shut behind her, cutting his gaze off. Breathing out a shaky breath, she shook the feeling his eyes left tingling all over her body and dumped the contents of the bucket in the sink. Hurriedly, she grabbed her keys from her bag and took it off the hook by the door and rushed to her car, hoping to avoid another run in with JJ.

____

  She had assumed there would be no chance of running into JJ today. She thought she would be safe from her pesky feelings bubbling to the surface and clouding her judgement about experiencing life outside of North Carolina. However, she was proved to be wrong when the familiar clearing of a throat sounded behind her as she was loading her suitcase into the boot of her car. Taking a second, she let her eyes flutter closed and prepare herself for what she will see when she turned around. Taking a breath, she stood up, her hands leaving the suitcase she jammed in next to her carry-on. 

  Slowly turning around, she was met by the beauty of JJ Maybank standing there, the sun glowing against the skin exposed by his black tank top, his black sweater, and shorts. His hands were jammed in his pockets, making his muscles more prominent than normal. “Hey.” He spoke softly, his blue eyes raking over her, almost as if he was trying to commit each inch of her to memory. 

  “Hey.” She said back, matching his tone as she shoved her own hands into the pockets of her jean shorts. She tried to ignore her desire to let her eyes travel down him, drinking him all in before leaving for two weeks. The whole reason she was going to New York in the first place was to help her see there is more in the world than JJ Maybank and Outer Banks even though her heart was telling her that her world was just that. 

  “Thought I’d drop by and see you before you left. Wish you a good fight and all,” He told her, nodding awkwardly as he pressed his lips together. She opened her mouth to respond, but he beat her to it. “I do have to ask you one thing before you go, it’s been weighing on me for a while.” 

  She blinked, taken aback by his forwardness. “Uh-” She hummed for a second before finding her mind again. “Sure, go ahead, ask away.” She nodded for him to go on. Clearing his throat again, he kicked at a loose rock in her drive way, the tiny pebble scrapping and hopping against the pavement. 

  “Why are you avoiding me and why are you suddenly going to New York to look at NYU even though they don’t even offer the major you want?” He asked point-blank, his eyes burning into hers as he waited impatiently for the answer.

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

  “Of course you do, Y/N/N,” His voice was soft and filled with cracks. The sound of the softness in his voice as he let her nickname slip from his lips made her walls she had built up crumble instantly, destroying her defence against him. “Don’t try telling me you aren’t avoiding me because I actually do know why, I just want you to tell me.” He pleaded. Her heart sank at the words as a blush gathered in her cheeks. 

  “You know why I’ve been avoiding you?” She whispered, pulling her hands from her pockets and wrapping them around her, trying to become as small as she could as she quickly became mortified that he had figured out her crush on him. “He probably thinks you’re an idiot or something.” Her inner voice told her. 

  “Yeah,” He breathed out, sensing her vulnerable state. “I do. And that’s why I broke up with Heather back in April, I thought with time after she left, you would come back and I could tell you how I feel, but you never came back,” He told her, his eyes never leaving her as she watched the ground. “Instead, you’re getting farther away. Why?” He asked again, taking a step closer to her, trying to see if she would take a step away, but she didn’t. She stayed right there. 

  “How could I come back when you clearly didn’t like me the same way? How could I hurt myself? You will never like me the the same way, how could you after being with Heather? She is perfect!” Y/N exclaimed, her eyes lifting from the pavement to look at him. 

  “But thats the thing, Y/N,” JJ exclaimed back, pulling his hands from his pockets, the tips of his fingers coming up to dig into the space between his pecks. “I do feel the same way. I always felt the same way. I thought you were the one who didn’t like me,” He took two more steps towards her. “And Heather is perfect, to other people, but not to me. She couldn’t be perfect in my eyes because she wasn’t you. I only ever wanted you.” His voice soothed out as he spoke, taking another two steps closer to her. 

  “I-I-” Y/N tried to form words to speak, but she couldn’t. Instead, her mouth hung open as she looked up at him, his frame towering over her from how close he had gotten to her in the past few seconds. “I-” He cut her off. 

  “Please, before you go, just tell me if there is anyway I can fix this. If there is anyway for us to be together,” He pleaded, his hands dropping from his chest to swing by his sides. “Just tell me you still like me,” Tears welled in both their eyes as his voice cracked, his forehead slowly laying against hers, their eyes fluttering shut at the contact. “Please.” His shoulders shook as he squeezed his eyes closed tighter, scared that she will push him away and tell him to leave her alone forever. 

  “I still like you, of course I do. Why do you think I am running off to New York? It was all a plan to try to stop liking you.” She whispered, her breath fanning over his lips. The feeling of her breath and the words she spoke sent shivers down JJ’s spine as he let his eyelids flutter open again. His eyes were instantly met by her closed eyes, her eyelashes kissing her cheeks, her face relaxed from his touch. 

  “Is there a chance for us?” His voice was barely a whisper as he watched her eyes moving beneath her eyelids. 

  She nodded, unaware of his eyes on her face. “Yes-” That was all he needed to hear before he dipped down and captured her lips in a sweet, lingering kiss. It was the kind of kiss you didn’t want to stop. One that was filled with all the love in your heart, the one that could raise a dead man. His hands slipped down to hold her waist as hers hung around his shoulders, steadying her as she rolled onto the balls of her feet. Reluctantly, they pulled away, their lips wanting to stay stuck together. 

  “You still have to go to New York.” He told her as he pulled her flush against him for a hug, holding her close. 

  “But-”

  “No, you still have to go and see if that’s what you want. You have to know if NYU is meant for you, if New York is meant for you. I’ll be here, anxiously waiting for you to come back and tell me about it.” He reassured her, needing to make sure he wasn’t holding her back by telling her how he felt. 

  “But I don’t want New York, I want you.” She told him, her arms tightening around his shoulders, pressing her face farther into his neck. 

  “I can’t hold you back. Wherever you go, I will follow you, I will always be by your side, but you have to figure this out on your own right now.” She nodded, pulling her face from his neck. 

  “Okay,” She nodded. “We will facetime and talk about this, right?” She asked, pulling away from his hug to close her trunk. 

  “Of course. Facetime tomorrow night, okay? You order a pizza and I will get a pizza, we’ll have our first date-” He was cut off. 

  “Alright, Sweetheart, we gotta go so we can make it to the airport in time,” Her dad came out of the house, pulling on a ball cap. “Hi, JJ, saying see ya to Y/N?” He asked, noticing the blonde boy. 

  “Yeah, just wanted to see her off, Mr. Y/L/N.” JJ nodded. 

  “How nice of you,” Her father smiled. “I’ll get in the car and close my eyes, give you two a moment to say bye, but you have to be in this car in one minute, Y/N.” He warned, sliding into the driver’s seat, the door being shut echoing in the morning air. 

  “I’ll text you when I land.” She told him, pulling him in for another hug. 

  “I’ll be here waiting.”

____

   He was right. He was waiting for her, in fact, he was the first person she spotted as she wheeled her suitcase out of the automatic airport doors. The sight of him was like a breath of fresh air. It both took her breath away and made her refreshed all at once. When she saw him, all she could do was stop and stand there, staring at him as he leaned against John B’s worn down van. With the bright, North Carolina sun raining down over him like a golden beam and his large grin he wore as he watched her, he looked like an angel. Her angel. 

  “Well, are you just going to stand there all day or are you going to come and kiss me?” He called, earning many odd looks from the other people moving around. Many of them glanced from JJ to the frozen girl with the goofy smile and redden cheeks, smiling at them, but some gave the pair sneering looks as they powered by in their three-piece suits and fancy shoes. 

  With a laugh, she adjusted her grip on her carry-on and started to run towards him. He pushed off the van, stepping onto the curb just as she let her bags drop, launching herself towards him. The pair laughed wildly and freely as he caught her, spinning her around rejoicing in being reunited. “I missed you so much,” She spoke into his neck once he stopped spinning them around, the pair just frozen in their own world. Pulling away, she struggled to get her feet back on the ground before shoving his shoulder playfully. “That’s for confessing your feelings for me the day I leave for New York and making me go even though all I wanted to do was kiss your stupid face off.” 

  “Nothing stopping you from kissing my stupid face off right now-” JJ started to flirt, pulling her into him by her waist, but he was cut off by the side door of the Twinkie being pulled open aggressively. 

  “I’m going to stop her from kissing your stupid face off because I really don’t need to witness that after being subjected to your driving.” Pope told them, poking his head out of the van. JJ rolled his eyes as he took a hand off Y/N to shove Pope back into the van. 

  “Shut up, Pope.” He grumbled, latching his hand back on her waist. 

  “It’s not just Pope who will stop you,” Kie crawled out of the van, forcibly pushing JJ and Y/N apart and standing between them, facing Y/N with bright, excited eyes. “What did you get in New York? Anything for me?” She asked, whacking JJ’s hands away as he tried to push her away from Y/N. 

  “Yeah, did you get the pictures of Compleat Strategist for me?” Pope also jumped out of the van with John B following closely. 

  “What about my shirts and foam finger?” John B piped up, holding his finger up as the three of them battled for Y/N’s attention. JJ slumped back, huffing angrily. 

  “I got the pictures like you asked, I took them on my phone and on a disposable camera, I will send them to you when I get the film developed,” She told Pope, earning an excited fist bump from him. She turned to John B. “I got two cheesy shirts and two foam fingers, all ready to embarrass poor Sarah with, they are in my bag so I have to unpack to get them, and,” She paused, turning to Kiara. “I got you a no littering sign from Central Park, it was very hard to get past airport security.” She told Kiara who drummed her fingers together in anticipation. 

  “Now can you all please get back in the van so we can kiss then you guys can get your gifts?” JJ pleaded, exasperated as they continued to flock around Y/N. 

  “Fine, but just a quick peck then we help her unpack so I can get my hands on that sign.” Kiara told him. JJ nodded firmly, watching as they all piled into the van and closed the door again, John B pulling her bags in with him. 

  “Finally, I’ve been waiting for this since you texted me you landed in New York.” He sighed, pulling her into him by her waist once again, wasting no time to dip his head low and touch his lips to hers. To them, it was like finally eating that one thing you were craving for months.

 Sadly, their craving wasn’t quenched enough when a harsh slam from someone hitting the inside of the van door startled them and forced them to part their lips much sooner than they would have liked. “We’re not going to get a moments peace until I give them their gifts.” She informed him. JJ sighed, nodding. 

  “You’re right, but I don’t understand how you could have gotten them all gifts if you didn’t even get your own boyfriend a gift.” JJ muttered, dropping his hold on her waist to grab her hand and pull her towards the passanger side door.  

  “Who said I didn’t,” She asked coyly making him look back at her, his jaw hanging open slightly in shock, not expecting her to actually get him something. “It’s in my carry on, but I want to give it to you in private so you’ll have to wait a bit.” She informed him as he pulled the passanger side door open for her. 

  “For you, I’ll wait forever.” JJ hummed as he helped her into the van. 

  “And you called me cheesy for wanting New York shirts? He literally just said a line thats in almost every single romance movie known to man.” John B popped his head up between the front seats, exasperated with their relentless teasing his natural cheesiness. 

  “Shut up, John B,” JJ quipped before he closed the door, the van shaking as John B slumped back in his spot. Y/N watched with soft eyes as JJ ran around the front of the van, his blonde hair flapping over his eyes and ears as he raced to get to the other side as if he’d win an Olympic Gold Medal. The van shook yet again as he yanked the door open, climbing in rather ungracefully, in a rush to finally get alone time with Y/N. “I do have one question before we leave.” JJ announced, stilling before he twisted the keys. 

  “Shoot.” Y/N nodded for him to continue, watching as he finally gave the keys a harsh twist, holding them in place as the van sputtered to life. 

  “How did you get the no littering sign past airport security?” He posed the question, earning a chorus of mutters from the back, all asking the same question. 

  With a simple shrug and a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips, Y/N refused to answer their question. “I have my ways, I am a Pogue after all.”