#team 'this whole thing is as pointless as the thirty years war' | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

vampiregirl1797 · 4 years

Text

Love Blossoms

Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader

GIF Not Mine.

Click Here To Find My Masterlist.

Warnings: mentions of murderers, panic attack, some light smut near the end, otherwise FLUFF and Aaron allowing himself to be less serious and more happy around Y/N.

Word Count: 15,065– It’s a big ole one.

Summary: A collection of moments between Aaron and Y/N, documenting the journey they took to come together.

When I had started working at the BAU, it had been just after Agent Greenway transferred to another unit. I had no idea why she’d made the decision, but I sensed it was better not to ask, due to the tense behaviour that appeared the few times her name had come up in conversation. It took a while for the team to warm up to me, but even then they were still polite and professional. But for a good six weeks, I felt a little... left out, which sounded almost juvenile, but it was the truth. It didn’t take an expert in behaviour to notice that the BAU team were like a family, and after just losing a member made it easy to understand their hesitance in letting me into the fold.

I don’t know what made the decision for them, but it seemed that my relationship with each and every one of them went from polite and professional to open, honest and familial overnight. But I wasn’t going to complain, they were the most wonderful people I’d ever met and I was grateful for being accepted into their little family. There was only one problem, and that was Aaron Hotchner. The man was incredibly stern-faced, hardly ever smiled and he led the team like a drill Sargent. He had the most expressive eyes I’d ever seen, when he was actually willing to let his guard down for people to read them, he cared deeply, deeper than anyone would ever think, and I swear to god he knew about the crush I’d had on him since the moment I’d been introduced by Strauss on my first day at the BAU. That had been almost a year ago now, and my feelings had flourished, the flowers blossoming, the roots digging deep inside me to a point that extraction would cause me immense physical pain. I was in love with my boss, and I was certain he knew. How could he not? He was the unit chief of a team of profilers for goodness sake. And after we’d all witnessed JJ unsuccessfully hide her relationship with Will from us, well let’s just say I wouldn't be surprised if the whole team knew too. But I tried not to give it too much thought, after all Hotch was married and he was my boss. It wasn’t like I could do anything about it if I wanted to.

I needed to get over it, that much was clear. Which was why I was open to accepting Garcia’s offer to set me up on a blind date with one of her gamer friends. It could be good, couldn’t it?

‘Garcia, I swear I’m never letting you set me up on a date again!’ I complained, waving my hands around in my frustration, but somehow managing not to spill a drop of the coffee in my right hand.

‘Come on, Y/N! Randell is a catch!’ Garcia argued, linking her arm through my left in an attempt to calm my erratic movements.

‘A catch? Honey, there’s a reason they say you should never trust people you meet on the internet!’ I quirked my brow, lightly elbowing her when I noticed the smile she was trying to hold back as we stepped into he conference room, ‘you knew he was a creep!’

‘No I didn’t, I swear. Seriously though, what happened?’ She asked as we took our seats at the round table— we were the first to arrive for the briefing.

‘He was only capable of talking about sex, which was ironic because he kept flinching and crossing his legs every time I so much as reached for my wine.’ I rolled my eyes, sighing, ‘not to be overly negative but that guy wouldn’t have lasted thirty seconds if I’d taken him up on his offer.’

‘I’m sorry.’ She winced, her expression softening with sympathy.

‘Oh, I’m only getting started, he kept degrading me.’ I took a sip of my coffee to get my anger under control, ‘saying things like: “I’ll bet a girl like you likes it real hard and rough, huh? I’ll bet you’re a dirty little slut.” And then he proceeded to ask me to call him “Daddy” so I threw his wine in his face and left.’

‘His wine?’ Pen frowned, and I didn’t notice the way she glanced over my shoulder and took a sip of her own hot beverage to hide her smile.

‘I’d already drunk mine.’ I shrugged, my smile becoming a full grin when Penny started to laugh.

‘Well I’m sorry that he was a jerk, Y/N.’ Garcia said, her voice sincere once she’d recovered from the humour of my story, ‘he may or may not find a hardware wiping virus on his computer at some point today as a punishment.’

That startled a laugh out of me, and she chuckled with me too, my hand squeezing hers briefly in gratitude before releasing her.

‘Don’t worry about it, it’s my own fault really.’ I bit my lip, knowing that she could have put the perfect guy in front of me last night and I still would have found him to be lacking in some way. Because he wouldn’t have been him. I shook that errant thought away before it could show on my face.

‘We’ll find someone for you, Y/N.’ She patted my arm and lowered her voice as the rest of the team joined us, ‘or at the very least someone for you to blow off some steam with.’ She winked.

Her sudden suggestiveness took me off guard, so much so that if it hadn’t been for me raising my cup back to my mouth in time, there would have been coffee all over the round table, and a few agents sitting around it. I gave her a look that was a mixture of annoyance and mirth, but she only winked again as I wiped my mouth free of the excess beverage that had spilled onto my chin.

‘Are you gonna share what you’re talking about over there, Baby girl?’ Derek asked, a smirk painted on his lips as his eyes flittered in between the both of us.

Garcia and I shared a look that was full of mischief and mayhem— the usual concoction that resulted in us being together. Pen leaned forward and opened her mouth to say something that was going to be incredibly suggestive and most likely inappropriate, but as if he sensed a verbal war he wouldn’t be able to stop unless he got ahead of it, Hotch bought the conversation to a stop.

‘We’re going to Louisiana. They need our help with an unsub who’s mutilating women aged 25-30.’ He started, his authoritative tone garnering the teams attention immediately— I personally felt incapable of not paying attention when he spoke, he was so... captivating.

I felt myself subconsciously crossing my legs together, a vain attempt to quell the ache that started to form whenever I lost myself in his dominant personality. I pulled my eyes from him with great effort, and focused on the file in front of me, but it was for nought as my mind ran wild. Generally alpha personalities guaranteed a handful of the same qualities: arrogance, narcissism, dominance to a point of control and over confidence. I’d met, and even dated, more than my fair share of men with those same characteristics. But Aaron was different, and up until I’d met him I had no idea there was another kind of alpha male. He wasn’t arrogant, he was most certainly intelligent and confident within himself, but not to the point of parading his greatness in front of anyone and everyone in an attempt to boost his ego. He was quietly confident, but still willing to listen to others, still willing to accept blame if he ever did something wrong. He was about as far from a narcissist as you could get— getting him to talk about himself for more than a few sentences was taxing, he was much more comfortable and happy with the topic of conversation being on anyone but him. And as for being dominant... he most certainly gave of an aura of authority that you couldn’t help but notice or pay attention to, but rather than be flippantly commanding like the other alpha males I’d known, he always took other’s feelings into account. In other words— he’d never make you go through with something he could tell you wouldn't be comfortable with. Without meaning to, I couldn’t help but think Aaron Hotchner would most definitely be dominant in the bedroom— but I had a feeling it would be tailored to whoever he was with. He was a caring dominant personality, I was sure of it, he was the type of alpha personality to get off on getting his bed partner off, to care about fulfilling her fantasies and desires. The type to care about keeping his partner safe, to care for them physically, mentally and emotionally.

Hayley was a lucky woman.

I shook myself out of my thoughts with a sigh, actually taking in the details of the case in front of me and hearing Reid reel off the square footage of Louisiana.

‘Seeing as we already have three victims I’ll get started in a geographical profile when we arrive.’ Spencer finished, offering Hotch a small smile as he offered an approving nod.

‘Very good. Wheels up in ten, if this unsub follows the same pattern, he’s about to kidnap his next victim. Time is of the essence.’ Hotch said, I didn’t notice him frown when I didn’t catch his eye before leaving the room like I usually did— I just couldn’t bring myself to look at him just yet given how my thoughts had wondered off.

I needed to get my reactions around him under control, because this was getting ridiculous.

‘He has to be finding the girls at this club, following them home, and kidnapping them before they get their keys in the door.’ Morgan said, running a hand over his head as an exhausted sigh escaped him.

I leaned next to him on the table, my arm knocking against his as a silent offer of comfort, he nudged me back and smiled with gratitude.

‘I think our best bet is sending someone undercover.’ One of the cops at the Louisiana station proposed, and not for the first time.

At first he’d been dismissed because when we’d arrived, there had already been another woman reported missing, and we knew he kept them for a minimum of three days before disposing of them. So it would have been pointless to send someone out to seduce him when he already had someone to keep him busy. Her body had been found this morning and the friend who’d been with her had confirmed they’d been at the same club as the others the night she’d gone missing. We had no idea who he was, or how to find him, but we knew where he was going to be, now we had to lay the bait, but who was it going to be?

‘It’s not a bad idea.’ Prentiss said, looking over to Hotch, knowing that nothing would go ahead without his approval.

‘We’d need a woman who fits his type.’ Spencer pointed out, looking over to me.

‘Why are you looking at me, Doc?’ I raised a brow, frowning when I noticed everyone’s eyes on me, all except one pair.

‘Y/N, would you be comfortable with going undercover?’ He asked, his brown eyes meeting mine directly for the first time that day.

I felt my heart beat pick up in my chest as I answered, ‘of course.’

His eyes remained on mine for a few more moments, holding me captive while he studied my expression to determine if I meant what I’d said, or if I was simply agreeing because I felt I had to. What felt like hours later, he looked away, and I felt like I could breathe again as I lifted my coffee cup to my lips to hide my shallow breaths as I worked to return my heart rate to normal.

‘JJ and I will go with her, all the other victims were in groups, it would be suspicious if she was on her own.’ Prentiss murmured, her words somehow still sounding like a question even though she hadn’t worded it as one.

‘Fine.’ Hotch nodded, sweeping out of the room and leaving the team to prepare for what was most definitely going to be a long night.

‘I look ridiculous.’ I complained, not for the first time but I couldn't help it— I had never wore such revealing clothes and I felt exposed and stupid.

‘No, you look like a knock out, trust us we know what we’re doing.’ JJ said, her voice gentle and patient— I assumed she could see the discomfort in my eyes.

‘Don’t forget, we need to attract the unsub’s attention, and all of his victims so far have been party girls so we need to appeal to his type.’ Prentiss reminded me and I sighed, closed my eyes and resigned myself to my fate.

This isn’t about me. This is about stopping a psychopath and preventing anymore women dying.

‘Okay, thank you both.’ I offered them a shaky smile as I stood, trying to walk in the heels they’d dressed me in. It took a few minutes of pacing, but I got it.

Before I knew it, we were heading to the club the victims were last seen in, JJ and Prentiss linking both of my arms, and a deceivingly bright smile plastered on my lips. This was going to be hell. But I sucked it up and headed over to the bar, signalling for three drinks that were most likely going to be nursed for as long as possible. I was waiting for my drinks to be prepared when I felt a presence behind me. I attempted to ignore it until I felt a hand on my waist, the feeling sending a shiver of dread up my spine. I looked up into the darkest eyes I’d ever seen, and I didn’t just mean in colour, though they were a dark brown, but there was no emotion behind his iris’. They were completely void of any emotion aside from a sadistic shimmer that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. This was the unsub, I was sure of it.

‘What might your name be?’ He asked, his hand moving back and forth on my waist.

I knew from the profile that this man’s ego led him to kill when he was rejected by the women he sought out, so I took great pleasure in twisting his arm behind his back.

‘My name is none of your business.’ I sneered, gathering up the drinks and carrying them over to the table the three of us commandeered in the corner.

‘We saw you had company.’ Emily commented, her tone light but her eyes held a seriousness to it that hinted at what she was really asking.

‘That’s him. I’m sure of it.’ I said, relaying what had happened to them, and the rest of the team on the comms.

‘Give it thirty minutes, then leave. Remember, you’re leaving separately. Y/N first and we’ll see if he follows you.’ Hotch murmured, his voice a quiet, seductive tone in my ear.

I took a deep breath and pushed away the cocktail in front of me— anymore alcohol and I would end up revealing more than I wanted. I knew from experience that I was a chatty drunk, and incapable of keeping any secrets to myself.

‘Got it.’ JJ answered for all of us and we lapsed into casual conversation for the next half hour.

Despite my intentions not to, half of my drink was gone before I’d even realised I was drinking it, but by that point I couldn’t remember why alcohol wasn’t a great idea.

‘So what happened with that asshole Garcia set you up with anyway?’ Emily asked, sipping her own cocktail.

I snorted, ‘he was awful, honestly. Wouldn’t talk about anything but sex, but every time I reached for my drink he flinched and kept shifting in his seat.’

‘No stamina there then.’ JJ snorted and Em and I nodded in agreement.

‘Honestly I’m just so sick of it.’ I rolled my eyes, swirling my drink around with my straw, ‘I can’t remember the last time I had satisfying sex.’

JJ snorted into her drink and Emily loudly agreed with me.

‘Tell me about it! The ones who are loud and proud about being able to get a woman off have—.’ Em started but I cut her off, happy someone knew what I meant.

‘NO IDEA WHAT THEY’RE DOING!’ I held my hand out for a high five, and sober I would have never considered high-fiving over something like this, but drunk me thought it was a great idea and apparently Emily agreed as she slapped her palm against mine eagerly.

‘Well, lucky for me I got one of the good ones.’ JJ smirked, flashing her wedding rings.

‘Lucky bitch,’ I gave her a mock glare that had her winking at me.

‘Seriously, you don’t know how lucky you are. Good guys are so unique and rare.’ Emily sighed, ‘I went on a date last month with a guy who spent the whole night talking to my breasts and when he was clawing at me when he dropped me back off at my place, I ended up kneeing him in the crotch.’

‘Men our age suck.’ I squeezed her hand in agreement, ‘most of them only care about getting themselves off, some to the point of aggression if you try and push them off when you’re not enjoying it.’

‘Amen.’ Emily cheered.

‘Do they know we can still hear them?’ Spence’s voice over the comms had us all breaking into laughter.

‘Sorry Spence.’ JJ apologised, wiping the moisture from her eyes.

‘No don’t apologise!’ I shook my head, holding up my hand to stop them from commenting, ‘he’s right, it’s sexist to exclude him from the conversation, do you have anything to add, Doc?’

I could practically hear him blushing from inside the club as he floundered for a moment, and someone— probably Derek— chuckled.

‘I know that in 2015, only 6 percent of women said that they always had an orgasm during penile-vaginal intercourse, 40 percent said they had an orgasm nearly always, 16 percent of women had an orgasm half the time, and 38 percent had one infrequently.’ Spencer reeled off, always eager to share information he’d absorbed.

‘Thank you, Spencer for proving my point.’ I smiled, finishing my drink, ‘you’re herby invited to the next girls night.’

Emily and JJ cheered, our glasses clinking together as they finished their drinks too, signalling for two more.

‘Thanks,’ Reid mumbled, actually sounding quite touched at the invitation.

I cleared my throat and stood, careful to keep the nerves now bubbling in my gut off my expression.

‘Well ladies, this has been fun, but I have to go.’ I pretended to pout, winking when they groaned in disappointment, ‘sorry, I have an early day tomorrow. Goodnight, I love you both.’

I hugged them before I departed, and both murmured a “be careful” into my ear before I left them. As I walked out of the club and headed for my car, I couldn't help but put my phone to my ear to talk to the others— the further away I got, the quieter I became and the more nervous I was.

‘Hey, this is unexpected, it’s so nice to hear from you!’ I greeted brightly, being careful to keep my eyes trained forward—if he thought I was on to him I might scare him off.

‘You’re doing great, sweetness.’ Derek murmured, his voice calm and comforting, though it didn’t dissipate my nerves completely.

‘That’s amazing, congratulations. I’ll bet your fiancée is so proud of you!’ I gushed, unlocking the rental car they’d commandeered for me and sliding inside, tossing my phone into my purse and placing it onto the passenger seat and putting on my seatbelt.

‘Just a little further, Y/N.’ Hotch’s voice soothed my anxiety like a balm and I felt my white knuckle grip ease a little from the steering wheel as I settled into the drivers set, suddenly more at ease.

‘Thank you.’ I murmured, hoping he didn’t hear how breathy my voice sounded as I headed for the address that had been pre-programmed into the GPS.

I drove in comfortable silence, knowing the team was on the comms offering me a sense of security. I was about five minutes from arriving when a cop car lit up behind me, wanting me to pull over.

‘Uhhh... did we clear the Louisiana police?’ I asked, not pulling over just yet.

‘Why?’ Hotch asked, his voice urgent.

‘Because someone is trying to pull me over now. What if that’s how he got them? Coming to the club in his cruiser and following them to pull them over when they were on their way home?’ I suggested, trying not to panic as my heart suddenly felt like it was beating in my throat. It made sense, and I might have recognised him had I been paying more attention to the cops around the station. It made me wonder if he knew me, but then again I’d barely been at the precinct the past few days, Hotch had me on activities that led to me being outside the station.

‘Y/N, listen to me do not pull over. Garcia just checked with Louisiana police department and there aren’t supposed to be any cars in patrol in that area.’ Hotch ordered, and I wondered if I imagined the tremor of concern in his voice as I sped up a little.

‘If I don’t pull over then we won’t have anything on him, remember? We have no way to tie him to the women he killed, and if he’s a cop that makes sense. If he doesn’t take me, he’ll try to take someone else, someone who doesn’t have an FBI team and SWAT to back her up.’ I argued, but I didn’t like it anymore than he did.

He didn’t respond for a long time and my heart beat became so loud that it was ringing in my ears. I almost didn’t hear Hotch when he responded.

‘Give it one minute and then pull over, I’m redirecting SWAT to your location and we’ll be there as fast as we can. Keep him talking, Y/N and don’t hang up the phone.’ He murmured, his voice dripping with so much authority that it made the hairs on my arms stand up.

‘Yes sir.’ I answered, watching the clock on my dashboard and pulling over exactly one minute later.

I put a bright smile on my face as the same man from the bar came up to my window, signalling for me to wind it down. I lowered it an inch. His smile was dark and I had to physically hold myself back from flinching.

‘Hello there darlin,’ he greeted, his attempt to be charming having the opposite effect, ‘I didn’t just see you come out of that club back there, did I?’

I pursed my lips, deliberating on whether to lie or not, I knew he’d find a way to get me out of the car either way, but I needed to buy myself some time.

‘You did, officer.’ I admitted, biting my lip in what I hoped was an enticing way, ‘but I only drank water.’

‘You wouldn’t mind proving that, would you?’ His hands rested on his hips as he pushed his chest out, attempting to emphasise his brawny shoulders, but he just looked like he was pecking like a chicken.

‘Prove it how?’ I attempted ignorance.

‘Take a breathalyser test for me, if you’re under the limit, I’ll send you on your way.’ He winked, his eyes glinting dangerously at the prospect of what he could do to me as soon as I stepped out of the car.

‘How long would that take, exactly?’ I asked, but I wasn’t talking to him.

‘We’re two minutes out, Y/N.’ Derek promised.

‘No more than five minutes.’ The man promised and with a sigh, I climbed out of the safety of my car, slamming the door shut loud enough to be heard over the comms.

‘Okay then.’ My words ended in a scream, because even though I was hyper aware of every move he made, the fucker was fast and had stabbed a needle into my arm before I could so much as attempt to defend myself.

‘What did you just—what did you—what’s happening?’ I groaned, my voice consumed with panic as I started to lose feeling in my limps. He caught me under the arms when I fell forward and laid me on the back of his cop car.

‘You and me are going to have so much fun, not that you deserve it, you uptight bitch.’ He snarled, his hand wrapping around my throat and squeezing just enough to make me aware how easy it would be for him to kill me then and there.

‘No,’ My eyes were wet with tears as I felt his hand roaming across my chest, ‘stop.’

He grinned, his eyes reflecting how much pleasure he was taking from this, and he watched my expression as his hand started drifting lower and lower...

I gasped in relief when he was roughly pulled off me. I couldn’t lift my head, but I heard the thump as he was pinned to the car and cuffed, most likely by Derek.

‘I can’t m-move.’ I said, worried that my voice would be to low to hear as even talking was taxing and took maximum effort.

‘Y/N,’ Hotch’s voice wrapped around me like a warm blanket. I noted the relief in his voice as his hands wrapped around my waist and lifted me into sitting position.

‘I can’t move.’ I murmured, as if he didn't know that already, my forehead rested against his shoulder as my body slumped forward.

‘I know. You’re going to be okay, there’s an ambulance on the way,’ he reassured me, and I must have been on some heavy drugs because I could have sworn I felt him stroking my hair.

‘Will you stay with me?’ I said, fear returning to my voice at the prospect of being in a cold, sterile hospital without a familiar, comforting face.

‘Of course I will.’ His warm breath against my ear would have made me shiver, had I been able to.

It was crazy how easily I slipped into unconsciousness with Aaron’s arms around me, holding me up and murmuring reassurances into my ear. His hand continually stroked over my hair, and I wondered if I fell asleep because of the drugs, or because Hotch had soothed me so well that I was powerless to stop it.

Months passed after the case in Louisiana, and nothing much changed, aside from Hotch announcing to the team that he and Hayley were getting a divorce. And I couldn’t muster up anything other than sadness for him, despite my nowhere near platonic feelings for him, I knew how much he loved her, how much it must have been killing him to be separated from her. So I tried to help in anyway I could, I took half his case files so he could go home sooner after cases and be able to spend a little time with his son before he was put to bed. I bought home cooked meals for him to take home, knowing he was less likely to take care of himself if he didn’t have a wife and son to cook for. And the whole team made an effort to get him to come out with us at least once a month. Usually I avoided the drinks on those particular outings, not knowing what my liquor fuelled brain might make me say to him, but tonight was one of the rare nights he said no, having promised Jack he would swing by and listen to his stories about his trip to the zoo.

No one had been able to argue with that, and after we all went home to change— well JJ, Emily and I got ready at Penny’s place— we met up at our usual bar and started ordering the drinks. The conversation flowed with ease, and as the alcohol intake increased, the topics became more... private... between the girls anyway. Reid, Morgan and Rossi were having a separate conversation of their own about past cases by the sounds of it.

‘What’s your number?’ Pen asked.

‘My number? You have it in your phone!’ I frowned, genuinely confused over what she was asking.

‘Not your phone number, the number of people you’ve had sex with!’ Emily shoved my shoulder playfully, the other girls giggling when I flushed in embarrassment at the miscommunication.

‘Three.’ I held my fingers up for JJ, who was furthest away from me and possibly unable to hear due to the loud music.

‘26’ Emily said, winking and throwing back a shot of whiskey.

‘14’ JJ chirped.

‘11.’ Garcia admitted last.

‘Wow, I’m such a prude.’ I mumbled, taking my shot and throwing it back.

‘Nah, you’re young! At 25 my number was around the same as yours!’ Garcia assured me, downing her shot with a grimace.

‘I’ll get the next round!’ I announced, standing from the table and trying not to fall on my face as I walked in the heels JJ insisted I wear.

They were strappy platform heels and apparently they went perfectly with the flowing black skater dress I was wearing. It was a lacy material and I loved it because it was dressy but also comfortable. I reached the bar and ordered another round of the usual for our table, asking for it to be put on our tab. The bartender assured me he’d have my order ready in a few minutes and I’d just slid in a stool to wait when I felt someone groping my ass.

I turned around so fast I almost gave myself whip lash, ‘hey, asshole what exactly do you think you’re doing?’ The first thing I noticed about him was the cockiness that seemed to seep from his every pore. His hair was a bleach blonde, his eyes a cold blue and his arrogant smile made my hand twitch.

‘Nothing sweetheart, pure accident I swear.’ He smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. I assumed he was trying to draw attention to his obviously athletic frame, but honestly I didn't think there was anything he could do to make himself attractive to me.

‘Hmm, see it doesn’t happen again.’ I warned, glaring at him, but his smile didn't waver, of course it didn't. This was the kind of man who saw women as property, as a plaything for him to do what he wanted with, whether they enjoyed it or not. To him, I was inferior because of my gender, and honestly there were few other things that boiled my blood like sexism.

He stepped closer, so close that I could smell the excessive amount of cologne he was wearing, it made my nose scrunch up in distaste that he refused to see, because as far as he was concerned he was god’s gift to women.

‘Back off.’ I said, preparing to defend myself if he laid a finger on me.

He laughed, but there was no humour in the sound. He opened his mouth to say something but it snapped shut again when he spied something over my shoulder. I studied his expression for a moment, and when I saw the genuine fear in his eyes I determined he wasn’t faking just to deter my attention. I was just about to turn to see for myself what was scaring him, I idly wondered if Rossi or Derek had seen the commotion and come to offer assistance, but before I could I was overwhelmed with a familiar scent. It was the woodsy cologne that I’d gifted him for Christmas, having found it and insisting that it smelled of Hotch. It smelled comforting, safe and strong. That was the scent that surrounded me, and I felt my eyes flutter shut for a second, overcome with the calm that came over me. When he wrapped an arm around my waist, I was sure my knees would have buckled if I hadn’t been close enough to grab onto the bar for support. I vaguely registered his deep, authoritative voice saying something to the arrogant blonde in front of us, but all I could think about was how warm he was and how good the heat felt seeping through my dress and onto my skin. So good.

‘Y/N?’ His voice bought me back, his tone soft with concern and a little humour.

‘Sorry, I was out of it for a moment there.’ I shook my head, knowing I should step out of his hold, but I couldn’t bring myself to.

‘Are you alright?’ He asked, his free hand twitched and I wondered if that was because he wanted to touch me with that one too.

‘I’m fine.’ My chin jutting in the direction the boy had been standing, ‘but for future reference, that is an example of the assholes men my age can be.’ I mused, signalling for one more beer for the new addition to the party.

‘Hopefully he’ll grow out of it.’ He said, his tone was dry and I found myself laughing with him as we headed back to the table.

‘What took you so long, sweetness? I’m dying of thirst here!’ Derek complained, chuckling when I rolled my eyes at his antics.

I placed the tray in the middle of the table and everyone helped themselves. I tried not to show how pleased I was that Aaron ended up sat next to me, his arm over the back of the booth and close enough to my shoulders that I could feel the heat radiating from him. As everyone drifted to their own conversations, I found myself falling back to talk to Hotch, his dark eyes focused on me and only me. That was the thing about him; he had this way about him, of making you feel like the only one in the room when he looked at you. I didn't know if he had this effect on everyone, or if it was just me, but either way it was overwhelming.

‘How was Jack’s trip to the zoo?’ I asked, shifting a little to face him better, and trying not to visibly show how my heartbeat quickened as my legs became pressed up against his.

‘He loved it and he’s already begging for his birthday party to be there.’ He chuckled, his brown eyes sparkling with the fondness he held for his son.

‘His birthday isn’t until October though, I’m sure he’ll change his mind a million times before then.’ I reminded him, smiling because I knew how wonderfully indecisive Jack could be, as all kids his age were.

Hotch stared at me for a moment, and for all my BAU skills as a profiler, I couldn’t identify the soft emotion swirling around in his eyes. Before either of us could attempt to continue the conversation, Rossi commandeered Aaron’s attention for help in recalling details of a particular case. I leant back and just observed everyone, happy to be silent for a moment and enjoy the atmosphere and multiple conversations around me without actually participating. And if I was secretly happy that Hotch’s arm stated behind me on the back of the booth, well no one needed to know.

As the night wore on, people started to leave. First Reid, then JJ and Prentiss, then Derek and Penny, until it was Rossi, Hotch and me. But when the exhaustion started to seep in despite my buzz, I decided it were best if I went home too.

‘I’m calling it guys.’ I announced, standing and stretching out my tired limbs before I grabbed my purse and jacket.

‘How are you getting home?’ Hotch asked, standing with me.

‘I’m gonna call an Uber.’ I said, reaching into my bag for my phone, but his hand on my wrist stopped me.

‘Let me drive you, I’m heading out now anyway and it’s on my way home.’ He murmured, his eyes boring into mine. I could see that he really wanted me to accept his offer, but I knew if I said no he’d drop it and let me go.

‘Okay, if you don’t mind.’ I smiled, much preferring to get a ride home with someone I knew and trusted rather than have to wait in the cold for a stranger to pick me up.

‘Do you need a ride, Dave?’ Hotch asked as he slid on his own jacket.

I missed Rossi’s knowing smile as he answered, ‘nah, I’ve been on water for the most of the night, I’m fine to drive.’

‘Okay, see you in a few days!’ I kissed his cheek and walked with Aaron out of the bar, wondering if I was imagining the warmth from his hand seeping through my dress into my lower back.

He led me to his car, opened the passenger door for me and gently closed it before moving to the drivers side. I felt a smile form on my lips at the chivalrous act— I didn’t know people still did that anymore— and I was surprised at the butterflies that formed in my stomach from his actions. He turned the heat up as he drove, noticing the subtle way I was rubbing my upper arms in order to generate some warmth. I found myself falling asleep, which was surprising seeing as I had trouble falling asleep when I knew someone could see me. Call me crazy, but it was the truth. I didn’t realise just how close I was to being completely immersed into unconsciousness until we arrived at my apartment and Hotch murmured my name, softly, sweetly.

‘Hmm?’ I jolted awake, my cheek feeling like ice from where it had been resting against the window.

‘We’re here.’ He smiled, and if I’d been more awake, more focused, I would have noticed the fondness behind it.

‘Thank you.’ I blinked, trying to wake myself up a little more, ‘love you.’ I said, stepping out of the car and into my apartment building, which was coincidentally the same building as Emily’s. I was on the eighth floor and she was on the third.

It wasn’t until I was tucked up in bed, on the brink of falling asleep again that I realised what I’d said. To Hotch. To my boss. To the man I was secretly in love with. Suddenly completely awake, I sat up, my eyes wide with mortification.

It’s fine, you tell the team you love them all the time, he wouldn’t have interpreted it any other way. He wouldn’t. I took a deep calming breath and lay back down again.

It would be fine. Right?

When we returned to work, I came in a little earlier, determined to catch Hotch alone and offer him the cookies I’d made for him and Jack as a thank you for the ride home he’d given me. I also wanted to clear the air, test for any awkwardness that might be lingering from my surprising declaration. I was still clinging onto the hope that he hadn’t seen it as anything more than me confessing platonic love.

I placed my coat and bag onto my desk and continued on to Hotch’s office, expecting him to be here already. But I was surprised to find it empty. I frowned when I noticed his coat and briefcase weren’t here yet, meaning he wasn’t somewhere else in the building. With a disappointed sigh I placed the box of cookies on his desk and took a post it note and pen from one of his drawers and scribbled a note before sticking it onto the box.

Hotch,

A thank you for taking me home the other night, I really appreciate it.

I made chocolate chip and walnut for you.

The chocolate chip ones I decorated in a spider man theme are for Jack, and you if he wants to share.

Thanks again,

Y/N.

I walked to the small kitchenette and poured myself a cup of coffee before heading to my desk. Seeing as no one would be in for another hour and a half— at the earliest— I decided to get started on some paperwork. I was surprised at how quickly I got through it, being as a stack so large would have taken me all night any other day. I guessed doing it first thing allowed for maximum concentration, and I was just moving the final file over to the done pile when the first agent arrived.

‘Spence!’ I cheered, my smile melting into a sheepish expression when he jumped, ‘sorry! I’m just so happy to see another person, I’ve been here since 7 and the empty room was really starting to freak me out.’

He chuckled, placing his satchel and jacket on his desk before coming over to mine and accepting the hug I offered him. I loved hugging Spence; he was almost a foot taller than me, so when his arms wrapped around me he made me feel tiny and safe. He was like the twin I’d always wanted— we were similar in age, we liked the same movies and we were both a little socially awkward and trying to figure out who we were.

‘Why did you come in so early?’ He asked after we’d pulled apart, the both of us heading to the coffee machine, his arm around my shoulders.

‘I made cookies for Hotch and Jack and wanted to drop them off before the team could see and complain I hadn’t made them any.’ I told him, which wasn’t exactly a lie.

‘Smart.’ The genius snorted, pouring some coffee into my mug and then his own.

‘What did you get up to yesterday?’ I wondered as we headed back to my desk—I’d actually seen him on one of the days we’d had off as we’d had a Star Wars marathon. It was something we made a point to do at least once every three months.

‘Nothing really, just boring domestic stuff.’ He shrugged, wheeling his chair over to my desk.

‘Same, well that and baking,’ I shrugged.

‘What’s the matter?’ He explained when I frowned in confusion, ‘you sighed, that’s your tell.’

I sighed again, biting my lip and looking over to Hotch’s still dark office, ‘can you keep a secret?’

‘You know I can, Y/N.’ He assured me, and I knew he was right.

‘I’m having certain... feelings for someone I shouldn’t be, and I’m just struggling to get over it.’ I admitted, looking down at my coffee cup to avoid his observant eyes.

‘You mean Hotch?’ He clarified, and my gaze found his, shocked and surprised at his casual question.

‘You know?’ I squeaked, putting my mug down before I dropped it, ‘does anyone else?’

‘I don’t think so, I mean I’ve known for a while now, but I didn’t say anything because I figured you’d tell me if you wanted me to know.’ He shrugged and his calm attitude quelled my anxiety a little.

‘Okay well yes, I’m in love with Hotch and I don’t know how to make it stop.’ I sighed, running a hand through my hair, ‘I know he’ll never look at me that way, plus he’s my boss everyone would see it as inappropriate and that’s not even factoring in the age gap. I’ve tried dating other men but I just compare them to him and find them lacking, or they end up being total jerks and well you know about the guy Pen set me up with.’

He nodded, his brow crinkled with sympathy.

‘I know what you’re going through. Well, kind of.’ He bit his lip, running a hand through his chocolate locks, ‘it took me a while to get over JJ.’

‘I didn’t know you liked her.’ I admitted softly, my hand reaching out to squeeze his.

‘I did, for about a year, until I realised that she was never going to see me that way. Then she met Will and had Henry so it was easier for me to move on.’ He explained, taking a sip of his coffee, ‘how long have you been in love with him?’

‘I’ve had feelings for him since I met him, but I never really paid them any mind until we were on our way back from a case on the jet. Everyone was asleep and Hotch was on his way back from the bathroom, on his way he stopped and covered JJ and Prentiss with blankets, and got you a pillow and put it under your head. When he saw that I was still awake he just smiled at me and sat down next to Rossi. He didn’t say a word and in that moment I realised I loved him.’ My voice was low, but still loud enough for Spencer to hear, and though neither of us knew it, it was loud enough for Hotch to hear from the kitchenette, neither of us aware of his presence, ‘that was almost two years ago.’

‘You should tell him.’ Spence said, his hand entwining with mine, knowing the warmth of his hand would offer me some comfort.

‘Why? It won’t change anything for the good. He’ll tell me I’m his subordinate, that a relationship would be inappropriate, that he’d never be interested even if I didn’t work for him. I’ll be heartbroken and embarrassed and it could change the whole team dynamic. I don’t want that to happen.’ I sighed, looking down and fighting to stop any tears from falling. But like I said, Spence was like my twin, he knew when I was upset and I was bundled up in his arms before I could take another breath. The tears fell in earnest then as I sobbed against his chest, knowing I needed this moment to pull myself together before the rest of the team arrived.

‘So what are you going to do?’ He murmured against my hair.

‘Suffer in silence and hope I don’t die alone.’ I said, sarcasm heavy in my tone, but it wasn’t enough to completely disguise the fear in my choice.

‘Hey,’ he pulled back to look into my eyes, to allow me to see the sincerity behind his next words, ‘no matter what, you’ll never be alone, I promise you that. We’re all a family here, Y/N. You know that.’

A soft smile formed on my lips, ‘thanks Spence. You’re the best twin ever.’

We chuckled together and I pulled away to wipe the moisture from my cheeks before looking at the time on my watch. 8:45. The team would be arriving soon.

‘I’m gonna go and clean up.’ I murmured leaning over to pick up my bag and missing Hotch making his escape to the hallway so he wouldn’t be seen when I stood up.

‘Okay.’ Spence’s voice was soft and he returned the smile I sent him as I left for the bathroom.

By the time I’d ran some cold water over my face, reapplied my make up and ran a brush through my hair, I looked like I had when I first stepped through the doors this morning. No evidence of my morning heart-to-heart with Dr Spencer Reid remained as I made my way back to my desk, placing my bag onto my chair and joining the others in the conference room.

‘Sorry, I was just in the bathroom.’ I murmured, feeling the embarrassed flush form on my cheeks. Only I could arrive two hours early and still be late for the briefing.

‘It’s no problem,’ Hotch replied, nodding at Garcia to continue relaying the case.

I didn’t notice his eyes flicker back to me after I’d opened the case file, his dark eyes swimming with adoration, concern and sadness for a moment before his guards rose again and his attention shifted back to Garcia.

Reid however noticed the glance and felt his heart squeeze with hope. Y/N might not have noticed Hotch’s behaviour towards her, but he certainly had. He doubted anyone else on the team had observed the same things he had, because his eidetic memory didn’t allow him to miss anything. The glances, the fond looks, the concern for her during cases, how his expression softened at her happiness, how he made sure that there was always a supply of chocolate pop tarts in the kitchenette at work, because Y/N often forgot to eat during cases and he knew the sweet treat would offer her at least some nutrition and a pick-me-up for the particularly hard days.

Y/N didn’t know about any of it, and he’d considered telling her, but he knew she wouldn't believe him, and also it wasn’t his place to reveal. If Hotch wanted her to know, he’d tell her himself, he didn’t want to cause her any pain if he did reveal his observations only for Hotch to shoot it down and hurt her. He shook his head and focused on the briefing, reiterating some statistics on Florida.

He just hoped it all worked out for his friends. They deserved happiness.

A weary sigh left my lips as I wondered to my desk, eyeing the stack of paperwork and deciding to stay late and get it done; it was better than letting it build up to obscene levels. We’d just returned from Florida after ten days tracking a man who kidnapped families, held them for a week and then murdered them all. We’d managed to catch him before he killed the new family he’d abducted and I was beyond relieved, as was the rest of the team as we always were when we managed to save someone.

I glanced over to my right, eyeing Emily’s tired eyes with a soft smile. She’d stayed behind to finish paperwork like I had, but I could tell she was about ten minutes away from passing out. Seeing as I’d already managed to finish the few I’d accumulated on my desk, I wheeled my chair over to her desk and snatched up her remaining six files. It would take me another hour and a half, but it was worth it if she’d go home to sleep.

‘Y/N, what are you doing?’ She yawned, pushing her chair away from her desk.

‘Go home, Em.’ I told her, my voice gentle but firm. I continued when I saw her hesitate, despite her desire to take me up on the offer, ‘I’m serious, go home and snuggle your cat. Get some sleep.’

‘Are you sure?’ She murmured, another yawn escaping her lips.

‘I’m sure. Get outta here.’ I winked, turning and hiding my own yawn in my fist as I placed her files on my desk.

‘Thanks Y/N. Love you.’ She hugged me from behind and left with a kiss to my cheek.

‘You better.’ I yelled after her, smiling at her tired laughter.

I turned and started to work, I vaguely registered the elevator open and close as I filled in the report efficiently and quickly. I was determined to get through the remaining files before the exhaustion seeped in and took me over, too. I could feel it lingering in the back of my mind, just waiting to strike, but I hoped my concentration and the coffee I was drinking would hold it off long enough for me to finish. I also put Taylor Swift’s new album ‘Folklore’ on shuffle quietly in the back ground, hoping to prevent the empty floor freaking me out for as long as possible.

I was humming along with my tears ricochet as I signed the last file, tossing it onto the separate finished pile for Emily. I placed them back onto her desk and sat back down at mine, yawning as I turned off the music and just took a moment to relax. Of course in hindsight, that was a mistake, because I was exhausted and vulnerable to sleep. I didn't remember my head falling to rest on top of my arms, nor did I remember closing my eyes, but the next thing I knew was a large, warm hand on my lower back, gently rubbing back and forth to carefully rouse me from sleep.

‘Hotch?’ I murmured, my voice thick with sleep as I blinked, trying to wake myself properly. I looked down to my watch and saw the time: 2:45am, the last time I’d looked it had been 1am.

‘You should go home and get some sleep.’ He said, his voice gentle as he rubbed my back once more before moving away.

‘Yeah.’ I agreed, standing and stretching, a yawn leaving my mouth as I did, ‘what about you?’

‘I’m heading home now.’ He assured me, a small fond smile on his lips.

‘Okay.’ I offered him a grateful smile as he helped my uncoordinated, still partially unconscious self pull my jacket on.

‘Did you get my cookies?’ I wondered as we stood in the elevator that would take us to the parking garage.

‘I did.’ He smiled again, his eyes sparkling with that soft emotion again. I found myself returning the gesture, hoping he didn’t notice the flush that had most definitely formed on my cheeks.

‘Good.’ I said eventually, my brain apparently incapable of coming up with anything better as I leaned back against the wall, too exhausted to stand properly.

‘Jack will love the Spider-Man cookies. He’s still massively obsessed with him, I’m sure he’ll be his Halloween costume this year.’ Hotch mused, a small smile on his face as he spoke of his son.

People always assumed because Hotch was so authoritative and serious at work, that he wasn’t capable of smiling ever. But that wasn’t the case, sometimes his humour did find a way to integrate itself at work, but whenever a case was over, he became much more relaxed and smiled a lot easier as the responsibility from his job eased from his shoulders for a little while. What I didn’t know, was that he never relaxed around anyone else as much as he did around me.

‘I don’t know.’ I pursed my lips to hide my knowing smile, ‘Jack might have already mentioned what he was going to dress up as for Halloween this year last week over the family picnic.’

Hotch had invited the team to spend some time at the park with him and Jack. Garcia had insisted on turning it into a picnic, and had insisted on my help for preparing the food, seeing as I’d been preparing meals for Hotch, and sometimes Jack, for months now so I knew what they would like. It had been a huge success, and I had been reminded again what an amazing father Aaron was to Jack, he was an amazing kid.

‘Really, what’s that?’ He asked, his eyes sparkling with mirth.

‘Sorry, I’m sworn to secrecy.’ I winked and then blushed immediately after when I remembered exactly who I was winking at. I cleared my throat, ‘but something tells me you’ll love it.’

‘I’m sure I will.’ His voice became soft as his eyes stared into mine, and I couldn't help but wonder if he was talking about something else.

I was as powerless to look away from him as I always was, he had this captivating aura around him, this powerful personality that you couldn't help but submit to. Or maybe it was just me who felt his bewitchment so strongly because of my additional feelings for him. Either way, he didn’t look away from me until the elevator dinged, announcing our arrival to the parking garage. Even then, it took him a moment longer and I found myself wondering what he saw when he looked at me that made him so reluctant to break eye contact. When he did, look away, I became aware of how fast my heart was beating, how erratic my breath had become and as I walked to my car I was overcome with embarrassment, because it was something that wouldn’t have escaped his notice.

‘Goodnight, Y/N.’ He didn’t speak above his usual volume, but it was easy to hear him in the near empty garage.

‘Goodnight, Sir.’ I replied, climbing into my car and taking a deep breath, before turning on my car and driving away.

When Foyet had attacked Hotch, I had been the one to track him down at the hospital. I had refused to leave his side while I waited for him to wake up, tears trailing uncontrollably down my face as I took in his weakened state. I’d hated seeing him so pale, so vulnerable, and when the rest of the team had been informed after the new case had been solved, so had they. It had been awful, even more so when he woke and immediately went into profiler mode. He discovered that Hayley and Jack were in danger and ordered for them to be taken into protective custody before he passed out again. I’d stayed while the team went to retrieve them both, holding his hand until he regained consciousness.

‘Hey,’ he murmured, his dark eyes on mine. I went to remove my hand from his, but he tightened his grip and prevented me from doing so. I saw the soft look in his eyes again and relaxed my grip, looking down to hide my tears.

‘Hey.’ I replied, realising I’d said nothing in response to his greeting. I winced when I heard how rough my voice was, a sure sign I’d been crying.

‘You’ve been crying.’ It wasn’t a question, it was a statement of fact.

‘Only Aaron Hotchner would be profiling from his hospital bed.’ I teased, my heart feeling a little lighter at the amusement that formed on his expression.

‘Not profiling, just paying attention.’ He said, his voice low and weak and it made my heart hurt.

‘Of course I’ve been crying, you’re in a hospital bed, I walked into your apartment to find blood on the floor, and found you here with multiple stab wounds.’ I frowned, the images replaying themselves through my brain.

‘Hey.’ He squeezed my hand and my gaze returned to his, his dark eyes soft and reassuring, ‘I’m okay, Y/N. A little beat up, but I’m going to live and that’s all that matters.’

I started into his eyes for a long moment before nodding. That’s all that matters. He was right of course, but we both knew the only reason that was true, was because Foyet wasn’t finished with him yet, he wanted to watch him fall apart without his son and ex-wife in his life. But I refused to even think about that, because we were going to find him, and until we did, the whole team would be there for him. We wouldn't let him lose himself like the previous detective Foyet made a deal with had.

‘I’m really glad you’re alive.’ I admitted with a whisper, my eyes glazing over with tears, and I knew that my eyes were essentially an open book in that moment, my guards had crumbled to rubble over the past twenty four hours. I knew he could see just how relieved I was that he was okay, as his eyes glimmered with that unidentifiable emotion again as he squeezed my hand, telling me he was glad too.

My hand stayed grasped in his until Hayley and Jack arrived.

When we found Foyet, it hadn’t been before he’d managed to track down Hayley and Jack. Without a doubt, it had been the hardest case any of us had to work, hearing Hayley tell Hotch goodbye before we heard the gunshots that told us she’d been murdered. We all raced to the house to find Hotch beating Foyet beyond his death, not letting up until I placed a hand on his shoulder, the soft touch making him pause immediately.

‘He’s gone, Hotch.’ I murmured, squeezing his shoulder as he sobbed, ‘where’s Jack?’

‘Jack.’ He sobbed, jerking up from the ground and sprinting upstairs. I followed him, knowing he wouldn’t want Jack to see him the way he was, covered in blood, long enough to ask questions.

He ran to his office, falling to his knees next to the window seat and lifting it up to reveal a smiling and proud Jack.

‘I worked the case, daddy!’ He cheered as Aaron lifted him from inside the seat before pulling the lid back down.

‘You did a good job, buddy.’ He smiled through his tears, gripping his sons shoulders and kissing his forehead.

Prentiss stepped into the room behind me, her eyes soft with sympathy and heartbreak— the same look held in everyone’s eyes in that moment.

‘Hey Jack, why don’t we leave your daddy to clean up, huh? I’ll take you downstairs and you can play with the sirens in the car.’ Prentiss said, forcing her tone to appear cheery.

‘Can I daddy?’ Jack pleaded, his smile bright.

‘Of course buddy,’ Aaron said, squeezing his sons shoulder once more before Jack darted to Prentiss. She took his hand and led him from the room.

I didn’t remember moving to kneel in front of him, but I suddenly was, my arms wrapping around his neck as his head rested onto my shoulder. I held him as he sobbed, his tears trailing down my neck and shoulder, my hands moved comfortingly through his hair as he held me in a rib breaking grip. I held him until his throat was raw from crying, until his tears dried up, until he felt strong enough to pull away from my hold. At that point, no one had stepped into the room. I assumed the team had deduced that Aaron would need some time, and had kept everyone away knowing Hotch would hate anyone to see him vulnerable.

‘I’m so sorry, Hotch.’ I murmured, my eyes glazed over with tears at the sight of his pain.

‘I know.’ I could see the small spark of gratitude in his eyes among the pain, the grief, the worry, ‘we should clean up.’

I frowned at his use of ‘we’ until I glanced down and saw that I was covered in blood too; it must have transferred over as I comforted him. I nodded and took the hand he offered me to help me from the floor. He led moved to the small closet in the corner— I assumed he kept clothes in his office during his marriage to Hayley to avoid disturbing her if he got called into a case at odd hours of the morning. He pulled out a shirt and dress pants for himself before turning to me.

‘I think Hayley still has some clothes here.’ He said and it took me a second to understand what he meant. When I did I shook my head, almost a little to vigorously, but I couldn’t help it, wearing her clothes, when she was lying dead in the other room just didn’t seem right.

Hotch nodded in understanding, handing me a plain grey T-shirt that obviously belonged to him. I wondered into the en-suite, taking off my vest and unbuttoning my blouse before tugging the shirt over my head, tying it in a knot at my waist to make it more form fitting. I then washed my forearms and hands, watching the water run a light pink as I scrubbed away the blood. A few tears fell while I worked, but I forced myself to get it under control before I left the bathroom— this wasn’t about me, it wasn’t acceptable for me to fall apart right then. When I emerged from the bathroom, Aaron entered. As I waited for him to return I took deep and even breaths to keep myself in control of my emotions. While none of the team had been particularly close to Hayley, we all loved her because she’d loved Aaron, our leader, the man we looked up to, the man we trusted to make the tough decisions. And so, his grief, his loss was going to be felt by the entire team. I couldn’t even imagine how this was going to effect Jack, who was young enough to potentially not understand that his mom was never coming home.

I wiped away my tears and cleared my throat as the door opened and Hotch joined me in his office. I could see the concern in his eyes so I must have looked bad. I felt myself shake my head, amazed that even while he was feeling the worst pain he’d ever felt, he still took notice and cared about those around him.

‘Come on, you should get to Jack before he drives the neighbours insane with those sirens.’ I managed a smile that became more genuine at his breathy laugh as we walked down the stairs.

Everything was going to be okay, I’d make sure of it.

It had been six months since Hayley’s passing and life was starting to form a new normal for all of us. The team all offered their help once him and Jack had settled into his apartment. Aaron had respectfully declined, insisting he wanted to find out and adjust to being a single parent without the help. We all acknowledged his wishes, but made a point of us all going on a day trip at any available opportunity— that ended up being once a month.

Despite what he said, I continued to bring in prepared meals to work, more often than before and always for him and Jack, knowing that the last thing he’d have the energy for when he got home would be cooking. Plus, this meant he had more time to spend with his son before he tucked him in, and well I didn’t need to explain why that was a plus. He thanked me gratefully every time, and after a few months, he started inviting me over for dinner with him and Jack at least once a week. Sometimes it would be on one of our rare days off, or it would be after a long case before we started a new one the next day. Either way those dinners became the highlight of my week, primarily because of the company; I loved seeing Hotch relaxed and happy, which he always was around Jack, and I loved hearing Jack’s endless stories about school, or the imaginary world he’d created in one of his drawings. At first the domesticity of the gatherings threw me for a loop, but I continually reminded myself that I was there as a friend and nothing more until it sunk in. And so, we settled into a comfortable routine where I was blissfully ignoring the way my love for him only seemed to grow deeper the more time I spent with him. How was I to know that it was all going to go up in flames?

It was any other Monday morning as I rode the elevator up to the BAU floor, but when I stepped out and noticed everyone already gathered around the conference table, a bad feeling started to form in my gut. I dropped my jacket and purse off at my desk before heading into the room, not liking the way everyone’s eyes turned to me.

‘Am I late?’ I frowned, sliding into my usual seat in between Reid and JJ.

‘No, you’re right on time.’ Rossi assured me, his eyes flickering over to Aaron.

‘What’s going on?’ I asked, noticing there weren’t any files in front of anyone that would indicate a new case.

‘Johnathan Rivers is going to be put to death next week.’ Hotch started, and I felt myself tense at the name, ‘he’s revealed that there are more victims we didn’t even know he’d taken. He’s offered to reveal their names and locations in exchange for something.’ He continued when I didn’t ask, ‘he wants to be interviewed by you and me.’

‘Why?’ I couldn’t fathom why he would want Hotch there. Me I could understand— I was the victim that got away, he probably wanted to taunt me with details of what he’d done to the other women we hadn’t saved, to torture me with the guilt and knowledge of what I’d escaped when so many others hadn’t.

‘I don’t know.’ Aaron admitted, knowing that I wasn’t asking about me, but I got the feeling he wasn’t being completely truthful when his eyes darted from mine after he spoke, ‘if you don’t want to do this, I understand.’

‘Of course I don’t want to do this.’ I huffed a laugh, but it was void of humour, ‘but I’m not going to put me being uncomfortable above providing families with closure. When do we leave?’

He studied my expression for what felt like a long moment before he nodded and dismissed us with, ‘wheels up in ten. The rest of the team will remain behind to assist on any cases that come in.’

Everyone nodded and stood from the table. I headed for the bathroom, needing a moment to compose myself before I grabbed my go back from underneath my desk. I ran my hands underneath the cool water, taking a deep breath and trying to keep the memories from the forefront of my mind.

His sadistic smile. His hands running over my body. Not being able to move to stop him. No. Stop it. Get off me.

My breath caught in my throat and I braced my hands on the sink, ignoring the tears falling down my cheeks in favour of getting my breathing under control. If I didn’t I was going to hyperventilate and have a panic attack. But that knowledge didn’t help, it only seemed to make the invisible noose around my neck grow tighter and I fell to my knees, my vision becoming spotty and the shallow breaths I took feeling like fire in my throat.

‘Y/N.’ I’d know that authoritative voice anywhere, but at the moment I couldn’t bring myself to respond. I felt his hand envelop my right, squeezing it tightly as he continued, ‘you need to take deep breaths. In through your nose and out through your mouth. Match your breathing to mine.’ His voice was low, commanding and impossible to ignore, as he took his breaths I tried my best to mirror him, encouraged as he whispered soft reassurances to me whenever a deep breath broke into several shallow, panicked breaths. I don’t know how long he stayed there with me for, my hand in his, whispering encouragements and continually reminding me to match my breathing to his, but eventually I regained control and a long, relieved sigh left me when I realised it was over.

My forehead fell against his shoulder, exhaustion falling over me as I soaked his suit jacket with my tears. I hated panic attacks. They sucked, in truth I’d forgotten just how much. Hotch’s hand stroked my hair while the other rubbed soothing circles into my lower back. He never once complained, never gave the impression that he was getting impatient with how long it was taking me to pull myself together.

But when I did lift my head from his shoulder, my hands resting on the tops of his muscled arms for support the first words I said were, ‘I’m sorry.’

‘You have nothing to be sorry for.’ His eyes were sincere and reassuring, and I felt the tension in my chest ease a little.

I nodded, my head falling back to his shoulder. In the back of my mind I knew there was no need for me to still be clinging to him like this, that we were shifting more towards inappropriate behaviour the longer he held me in his arms, but I couldn’t bring myself to care, and seeing as he wasn’t in a hurry to pull away I didn't either. We stayed there for a few minutes longer but the moment was broken when his phone started to ring in his suit jacket. I reluctantly pulled back and stood with him as he pulled out the device and answered it.

‘Hotchner.’ He said, his voice slipping back into his usual stern work tone.

I tuned out of the conversation, wiping my cheeks and running some cold water over my face. I didn't have my bag with me so I couldn’t apply fresh make up to make my face look less tear stained, which was frustrating but it was what it was. I blotted my face dry and offered Hotch a reassuring smile as he examined my expression once again.

‘I’m fine.’ I told him once he’d hung up the phone.

‘Are you sure? When I said you didn’t have to do this, I meant it.’ He murmured, his eyes softening with sincerity.

‘I know you did, but I meant it when I said I wouldn’t put my discomfort above giving families closure.’ I sighed, gesturing towards the door, ‘we should get going.’

He nodded, guiding me from the room with a hand hovering above my lower back. I grabbed my go bag and purse from my desk, relieved the rest of the team was in the conference room again, most likely being briefed on another case. If they’d seen me in my current state, I was sure I’d have more people to convince that I was up to this.

We boarded the jet, taking one of the double seats next to each other. We spent most of the flight in silence, Hotch spent time going over the past cases, but I couldn't bring myself to, worried seeing what he’d done to those other women would trigger a panic attack. I took time to properly pull myself together, knowing I couldn’t sit across from a psychopath anything less than guarded and prepared. By the time the jet’s wheels touched down on the tarmac, I was ready to face him.

‘It’s nice to see you again.’ His smile was the same, it still sent a slither of discomfort down my spine, but I refused to let it show on my face.

‘We’re here as you requested, now give us the names and locations of the victims we missed.’ Hotch said, I could see him out of my peripheral vision, he was sat straight, quietly confident and his tone was stern. But Rivers hadn’t stopped staring at me, and I wasn’t about to break first.

‘Names,’ Hotch prompted after a moment, his tone hardening.

He finally looked away and I took in the smug upturn of his lips and the malice that glittered in his eyes. I didn’t know what he was going to say, but I knew it wasn’t going to be good.

‘I’ll tell you what you want to know.’ His eyes flickered to me again, and when Aaron cleared his throat to attract his gaze, the smile that grew on his face was that of a sharks, ‘if you tell me something first.’

‘What do you want to know?’ He asked, a confused frown forming on his face.

‘What I would like to know is how you function so well as a team when you’re clearly in love with one another.’ He said and I felt my blood run cold. Of all the ways I’d pictured Hotch finding out about my feelings for him, this was most definitely not on the top ten list.

Neither of us spoke, and he took that as a sign to continue as he leaned back in his chair, arms crossed arrogantly against his chest, ‘I noticed the night you arrested me. While I was cuffed and led away by your brawny agent you rushed over to her. Now love is not something I understand myself but I’ve witnessed it on others, specifically on the two of you that night. The way you held her, the way she relaxed with your arms around her, the way you refused to leave her alone and carried her over to the ambulance when she passed out.’

I’ve witnessed it on others, specifically the two of you that night.

Specifically the two of you that night.

The two of you.

He didn’t mean... did he?

I banished that train of thought before it could run away from me. Rivers didn’t know what he was talking about, he just wanted to rile us up, to exert the minimal control he still had to play with us and feel some form of accomplishment. I took a breath and leaned back in my seat, making a show of rolling my eyes. I’d be damned if I was going to let this psycho see just how well he’d pin pointed and played on my insecurities.

‘Not that it’s any of your business,’ I examined my nails, knowing not giving him my full attention would play on his superiority complex. Like I said, most domineering personalities were arrogant and incredibly narcissistic— Johnathan Rivers possessed that particular characteristic in spades, ‘but the way I feel for Agent Hotchner is no different than how I feel for the rest of my team. I love them all and they’re like family to me. Now I don’t know what you think you witnessed, but I assure you, your assumptions are false.’

I leaned forward to look him in the eyes and when he suddenly jolted forward, to make a grab for me, I refused to flinch and continued to meet his eye. I felt Hotch lean forward too, slamming his hand onto the metal table and once again demanding the names.

‘What’s the matter Agent Hotchner? Nervous about sharing your own feelings on the subject?’ He asked, but chuckled at Aaron’s dark glare, ‘fine. Wendy Grooves, Sarah Jones, Victoria McMillan and Melinda Hewitt. All of them can be found buried underneath concrete in the basement of the house I owned. I had to move the dumping site when I ran out of room.’

Without another word Hotch and I stood, so simultaneous that it was almost as if we planned it, and strode from the room. He pulled out his phone to call Morgan to put together an extraction team to recover the bodies that we’d been given. We both headed for the jet afterwards, neither of us wanting to stay any longer there than we had to. I could feel the tension that crackled between us and how it seemed to intensify the longer we didn't talk. As much as I hated it, I didn’t want to be the one to break the silence, and so we stayed quiet until Hotch shifted in his seat across from me half way through our flight.

‘We should talk.’ He said, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it, and when I looked up into his eyes I could see his hesitation along with that ever present soft emotion.

‘Okay.’ I reluctantly agreed, taking a deep breath and steeling myself for rejection, ‘I’ve been in love with you—.’

‘I know how you feel about me, Y/N.’ He cut me off, continuing when I blinked in confusion, ‘I had my suspicions before, but when I heard you talking to Reid almost a year ago, that confirmed it.’

‘You heard me.’ I repeated, feeling embarrassment swirling in my gut, ‘why didn’t you say anything?’

‘Because at the time, I was still dealing with getting over Hayley, and then she...’ he trailed off, closing his eyes for a moment, ‘then she died and I didn’t realise how much time had passed. And I didn’t want to say anything until I was sure I was ready to move on, until I was sure I could be completely invested in the relationship and not feeling guilty for moving on and being happy.’

I couldn’t believe my ears. The way he was talking it sounded like... like he had feelings for me too?

‘But I am ready to move on, Y/N. If you’re still willing to give me a chance?’ He asked, his eyes filled with a mixture of emotions, the most prominent being hope. I couldn’t stop myself from leaning forward and taking his hands in mine.

‘I am absolutely sure I want to give you a chance, Aaron.’ I murmured, his following smile was contagious.

He leaned forward, his hands pulling away from mine to caress my face, gently wiping away the happy tears that fell down my cheeks. His forehead fell against mine, and I knew he was giving me the chance to pull away, to change my mind, and when I didn’t he leaned forward and sealed his mouth over mine. The kiss started off tentative, as all first kisses did, and when we’d become more familiar with one another, his hand lifted to my hair as he deepened the kiss. My hands slid into his midnight locks, enjoying the softness and tugging on the strands. I felt a groan vibrate in his chest and he pulled me closer, both of his hands lifting me by my waist and onto his lap. One hand trailed down my back, the other fell to the side of my neck, his thumb moving back and forth over my pulse point. Before the kiss could deepen any further, we reluctantly pulled apart, our lungs in dire need of oxygen. Our foreheads rested against each other, our erratic breath mingling as we worked to get it under control. Once we’d recovered more, he placed a chaste kiss to my lips, then my nose, then each eye lid before finishing with my forehead. I chuckled breathlessly, my heart picking up again, as his hands rested on my cheeks and he stared at me with that soft emotion again. Only now I could see what it was, now that my mind wasn’t clouded with fear of misinterpretation. It was love.

‘We have some things we need to discuss.’ He murmured after a while, ever the boss.

‘I know.’ My hand covered his left on my cheek, shifting it so I could kiss his palm before I entwined our fingers together.

‘I don’t think we should tell the team right away, while we figure things out and get into our own rhythm without having to worry about being over assessed when they know.’ He said, his other hand moved through my hair, a smile forming on his lips when I leaned into his touch, ‘and we’ll have to file a relationship form with Strauss.’

‘Sounds good to me.’ And it did, hearing him talk about what we would need to do once we’d found dynamic as a couple, made it seem more real and long lasting.

After that, we didn’t talk much, and I didn’t move from his lap. My head rested against his shoulder, my face nuzzled into his neck. His hand moved through my hair while his other held a case file that he was reading, apparently it was one JJ had asked for a second opinion on. I didn’t remember exactly when I fell asleep, but the last thought that ran though my mind was one word.

Safe.

It was three weeks later that Aaron and I went on our first date. We’d spent time together in between of course, but we’d only had the odd day off since and that time was meant for Jack, which I understood. I loved the little guy so if spending time with Aaron meant spending time with Jack too, it was hardly a hardship and more of a blessing. Which is why I didn’t push for us to have our first date, knowing that he cared for me as I cared for him practically had me walking on air. But when he asked me out to dinner and a movie, and told me that Jack was with is aunt for the night, I found myself feeling nervous with butterflies fluttering in my stomach. I’d dressed in a form fitting slinky dark purple body con dress, paired with some black flats. I’d curled my hair and clipped it back so it fell down the centre of my back, my make up was light and I was wearing lip balm over lipstick— I didn’t want to have to worry about topping it up throughout the night.

His knock at the door made the butterflies swarm again and I opened the door with a smile. I felt my eyes dilate with attraction as I took him in— he was wearing his usual dress shoes and pants, but the way he wore his shirt made me want to drool. It was pale blue, his top two buttons were undone, allowing me to spy some chest hair, and his cuffs were rolled up to his forearms. I couldn't help the way my gaze lingered on the veins that protruded from his arms, and when I finally managed to meet his eyes again I noticed they were alight with attraction and pleasure at my reaction to him.

‘You look...gorgeous.’ I said, for lack of a better word. His smile grew on his lips as he reached forward, taking my hand in his. My free hand fell to his forearm, running along his veins and enjoying the softness of his skin.

‘Thank you, honey.’ He murmured, his hand moving to the side of my face, his thumb moving over my cheekbone, ‘you look breath taking.’

I blushed at the compliment, placing a kiss to his palm in thanks. As I grabbed my keys and my card wallet, I realised I hadn’t grabbed a bag to carry them in, before I could Aaron took them from my hands and placed them in his back pocket with a wink that made my heart skip a beat.

As we walked to the elevator, he told me about how Jack had taken his FBI badge into school for show and tell, without telling him about it first. He’d worried that he’d misplaced it, or left it in Detroit— the last place we’d gone to for a case—until Jack had come home and told his dad about his day. He’d told him he shouldn’t take things without asking, but he’d been more touched than mad.

When we arrived at the restaurant, we sat next to one another in the privacy of a booth, eating Italian food and drinking wine. We spent the night basking in each other’s company, sharing stories, laughing and deciding to order dessert when we realised we’d lost track of time and missed the movie. But I didn’t mind, I preferred it actually instead of being in a place where we couldn’t share conversation. We stayed until an apologetic waiter told us they were closing and asked us to leave. And we drove back to his apartment, his hand entwined with mine and his other on the steering wheel as music from the radio played quietly.

‘Jack has a play date tomorrow morning, so Jessica won’t be bringing him home until the afternoon.’ Hotch murmured to me as we stepped into his apartment.

‘Oh really, so no early start tomorrow?’ I grinned, a sigh of contentment leaving me as his hands rested on my waist.

‘Which is good, because when I’m through with you, I think you’ll need your rest to recover.’ He spoke quietly against the skin of my throat in between kisses.

There was no arrogance in his voice, he was confident but quietly so, and I assumed he had a reason to be. He wasn’t the kind of man who was self assured without knowing it to be true.

‘Hmm... I think you’re all talk, Hotchner.’ I teased, but it was rendered pointless as a quiet moan left my throat when his lips latched onto the sensitive spot behind my ear.

He chuckled against my skin, not bothering to respond as my behaviour had already told him everything he needed to know. My hands wound in his hair as his lips continued their exploration, grateful for his grip on my lower back, as without the support I was sure my knees would have buckled. My head fell against the back of the front door as my breathing became erratic, while his lips trailed over my collarbone and down between the valley of my breasts. His hand slid the thin strap down my arm, and allowing him to move the fabric of my dress and close his mouth around my nipple. I moaned, feeling myself grow hotter as his hand moved down my legs, slipping under the satin fabric and trailing up my bare leg and stopping behind my knee. He lifted my right leg to hook around his waist, and then did the same with my left, his lips never stopping in their pleasurable torment on my chest. I barely noticed him carrying me to his bedroom, until my back was met with the cool temperature of his sheets. His lips returned to mine, the kiss full of passion, lust and when our tongues met, a battle for dominance that he won with minimal effort.

As we became lost in each other, as he moved inside of me, as he whispered praises and encouragements in my ear, as we reached our climaxes together, I found myself fall that little bit more in love with him. Because, he was gentle, he took care of me and my desires, and he found pleasure in doing so, just as I knew he would.

Much later, as we both lay back to regather our breath and exhaustion overcame me, I found myself thinking— there was no way us being together would feel so natural, so right, if we weren’t meant to be. And in that moment, I knew we were.

Aaron Hotchner was my soulmate.

A/N: This came to me after I read of terrible coffee and late night rides by @venusbarnes It’s absolutely wonderful and if you haven’t read it yet, and like Aaron Hotchner imagines, you can find it on their Masterlist. Trust me, you’ll love it.

I hope ya’ll liked this one, I know it’s long, but I just couldn’t bring myself to stop. Whoops.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #hotch x reader #criminal minds

350 notes · View notes

sleepless-rain · 4 years

Text

Seijoh’s graduation trip plans

Translator: Leo | Sleepless-rain | Leoppii Editor: Troy Esaki | Kahluaplusmilk

“Continue on unwaveringly.”

Those were the words that Iwaizumi Hajime had said to Oikawa Tohru, who had stopped to turn back and look at him. It was fall at the time.

“You’re my partner and an utterly amazing setter.”

On this day, Aobajousai High School had lost in the semifinals at the Miyagi representative game of the spring volleyball tournament. And starting from that lost match, the third years were to retire.

Iwaizumi and Oikawa weren’t only the captain and vice-captain of the volleyball club. They had been together through junior high school and elementary school, more than half of their lives—up until now— was spent together on the courts as partners.

Iwaizumi’s words were blunt, unembellished and held no lies.

“Even if this team changes, that will not change. When the time comes I will take you down.”

Oikawa straightened himself and accepted Iwaizumi’s words of passion and friendship head-on.

“…Bring it on.”

And this story takes place a few months later.

TRANSLATORS NOTE: Please do NOT repost this translation ANYWHERE. If I see the whole thing elsewhere I will stop translating novel chapters and delete this one as well. Sharing small snippets are okay but not the whole thing. Please link back to this tumblr post if you want to share it.

“I want to eat curry… So how about India?” said Iwaizumi, wiping the sweat off with his arm.

“You serious?”

“The bar is suddenly set way too high.”

Matsukawa Issei and Hanamaki Takahiro grimace, sweat dripping from their chins.

It was followed by, “But I like naan.”

“I totally get you.”

“When you want to eat naan, you drop by the curry restaurant.”

“I don’t get you.”

A stream of consciousness about curry overlapped with one another until Hanamaki cut in, wringing out his towel, “But you know…Hawaii would be good. How about we go snorkeling?”

“That sounds good, ‘specially in this situation. Deciding between curry and the sea, the latter sounds far better,” Matsukawa answered, ceaselessly wiping his sweat and wringing out his towel.

Iwaizumi, who had suggested India clicked his tongue, “Tch.”

It was hot in here.

Actually, rather than hot it was boiling hot. Yearning for the cool blue sea over a curry filled with spices was no surprise.

As to why they were in a highly acclaimed sauna.

***

In their third year of high school, winter.

With no classes to attend and it being a long time since retiring from club activities, the former volleyball club third year members of Aobajousai High School, Iwaizumi, Hanamaki, and Matsukawa were left in a daze, and with so much free time they made their way around to various large bathhouses.

After making a big fuss over the electricity bath* with a waterfall feature* they headed into the sauna together. While sweating, the brainless discussion of “where would you go for your graduation trip? Assuming that money wasn’t an issue” blossomed: a way to occupy their free time.

“But you know I’d like to go to Las Vegas.”

“Because you want to gamble?”

“But it’s only fun if you actually have money.”

“Ah, there it is: the forbidden word,” Matsukawa pointed out in response to Iwaizumi’s frank reply, but he thoughtfully considered an alternative.

“If it isn’t a casino… there isn’t really any other place I’d want to go there. Okay then… hmmm, ah. Pandas. A tour of the panda’s homeland, China.”

“Well, if its pandas,” Hanamaki replied to Matsukawa’s panda suggestion, clapping his hands together. “Did you know there’s a whole tonne of pandas at the Wakayama Zoo? I saw it on TV recently.”

“Wakayama?”

“Oh, I bet you don’t know where Wakayama is, Iwaizumi.”

“Shut up.”

Wincing at Iwaizumi’s lack of affection, Hanamaki pulled himself together: “Anyway, even my towel has gotten hot so I think it’s about time to get out.”

“Same here, I can’t stand it anymore.” Matsukawa stood up, “What about you Iwaizumi?” he asked.

“I’m staying.”

“Okay, don’t push yourself.”

“Cold bath?”

“Cold bath.”

The two friends agreed whilst pushing open the heavy wooden door and exiting.

Left alone in the sauna, Iwaizumi crossed his arms, staring at the thermometer on the wall. There was nothing else to do.

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed like that, sweating buckets until he muttered, “Las Vegas, huh?” before taking his towel and violently wiping his face and his head. “I guess I really am a bit like a kaiju.” He said to himself, standing up and leaving the sauna drenched in sweat and in search of water.

***

After enjoying the baths and the sauna, the three tired boys found themselves in the large tatami room. Lined with tables and sitting cushions the room doubled as both a resting and a dining area.

An old fan swung its neck unsteadily, blowing a breeze in their direction. There seemed to be a TV somewhere in the room, as the sounds of the golf match commentary could be heard faintly. There were people watching the TV with a few beers, people lying down reading the comic books provided, and children playing the games they had brought.

Everyone in this bathhouse resting area was relaxing and doing as they pleased. And as for these three boys, they were testing the limits of their stomachs.

Of course, it didn’t start off as such a vicious scene. It was meant to be a light meal but there was a reason as to why it turned into a bloodthirsty battle.

After getting out of the baths and slipping into the jinbei* resembling pajamas, the three ordered a light meal, curry, and ramen, while resting. The place ran on a self-serve system, where you went to get your food from the counter when the number buzzer you were given went off. However, the pork cutlet curry Matsukawa had ordered still hadn’t been called out.

“You two eat first, or it will get cold and soggy,” Matsukawa, who was lying on the ground reading manga, told Iwaizumi and Hanamaki who had gone and returned with their curry and ramen.

“Then I’ll dig in.”

“Sorry.”

Without holding back the two took their spoons and chopsticks in their hands and began eating.

“I knew it, curry is the best.”

“That’s not even Indian styled curry! You’re okay with that? ”

“Yeah, because it’s curry.”

The boys continued to talk at the table, and everything was still alright. The trouble was yet to come.

Slurping his ramen Hanamaki called out to Iwaizumi beside him, “You were in there for a real long time.”

“Hm?” Iwaizumi responded with the spoon still in his mouth.

“You know, in the sauna.” He replied.

“Oh that. Isn’t that amount of time normal?”

“Are you serious?”

Their conversation ended there. Both of them focusing on the curry and ramen before them. It was just a meaningless conversation however someone reacted unexpectedly.

“Normal, huh…?”

It was Matsukawa, lying on the tatami.

Matsukawa couldn’t let their conversation – Iwaizumi’s “normal” - slip from his ears.

“‘Normal’ he said. Doesn’t that mean that the two of us that left earlier are weaker than normal?”

At that moment his buzzer went off beeping.

Matsukawa got up, “Oh, it’s finally done.”

Hanamaki eyed him whilst sipping the ramen broth from his spoon and asked: “Yours is the only one that took so long, what did you order?”

“Me? Pork cutlet curry.”

“Oh, one of those things that take time to fry… wait, that’s not something you eat after getting out of the sauna!? Your stomach must be strong.”

Upon hearing that Matsukawa glanced at Iwaizumi who was drinking water. And as if he were waiting for it, a smug smile crossed his face, “You think so? Having pork cutlet curry is pretty normal.” He taunted, picking up the beeping number buzzer to get his pork cutlet curry, ambling towards the counter. Someone glared at the figure strangely overflowing with confidence.

“‘Normal’… you say?” It was Iwaizumi, spoon in hand. “Normal? Then me eating plain curry means I’m weaker than that?”

The golf commentary from the TV, the manga, the faint breeze blowing intermittently, the curry and ramen, all of it relaxing and warm. This heaven-like peace enveloping the resting and dining area unfolded into a sudden battlefield.

Iwaizumi stuffed the remainder of his curry into his mouth vigorously before slowly standing up. “I’m going to get extra gyoza,” he said.

Taken aback by the sudden dangerous aura emanating from Iwaizumi, Hanamaki winced “S-sure…”. His hands stopped over his ramen, the atmosphere created by former ace Iwaizumi could have easily been mistaken for the middle of a match.

And soon after Matsukawa returned with his tray of curry.

“Huh, where’s Iwaizumi?”

“Mm? Oh- uh seems like he went to get some gyoza.”

“…I see.”

Seating himself leisurely onto a sitting cushion, Matsukawa took his spoon in his hand and sighed, “Facing off pork cutlet curry with gyoza, pathetic.”

“What? What are you talking about? Both of you have been acting really weird since a while ago! Is this some kind of inside-joke?”

Hanamaki put down his chopsticks without thinking and upon noticing change in Matsukawa’s attitude Iwaizumi had returned with a “hey.” The clear plastic container in his hand contained eight gyoza. On top of that, another box stuffed with 200grams of chicken karaage. Seeing the extra meat, Hanamaki just feigned a smile.

“Hey, I know you went to all the trouble of buying that but I’m full from the ramen, I can’t eat that.”

Iwaizumi didn’t even spare Hanamaki a glance, staring down unblinkingly at Matsukawa who was eating his cutlet leisurely in declaration of war, “All of it is mine.”

Matsukawa stared back, putting down his fork and rising to his feet to accept Iwaizumi’s challenge, “Bring it on.”

“What is it with you guys!? Matsukawa, why are you standing? Sit down!”

The downside of war is that there are always innocents who get dragged in. And without listening to the confused Hanamaki, the pointless battle began.

Thirty minutes had passed. After eating his pork cutlet curry, yakisoba, grilled onigiri, Matsukawa now sat with what he claimed ‘dessert’, slurping down tapioca filled milk tea.

An exhausted Hanamaki asked: “Isn’t tapioca made from some sort of potato, doesn’t that make this more of a food than a drink? Why are you eating little balls of potato after a meal?”

“Because they were selling it.”

“Even if you want to look cool drinking that, you don’t.”

“I’m not trying to look cool.”

“You are! I heard you when you said ‘pathetic’ and all that other stuff. ”

While Hanamaki and Matsukawa were going back and forth, Iwaizumi returned with another plate piled high with freshly made fries.

“Potatoes! More potatoes! Why are you both eating piles of potatoes!? It’s practically another meal! What’s with you two?! My stomach hurts just watching you. I’m begging you both, please stop!”

The bystander Hanamaki had given up and Matsukawa, who was probing for pearls with the end of his straw, and Iwaizumi, who was throwing a handful of fries into his mouth, stopped. They looked at each other and nodded.

“Let stop it here then since you’re insisting.”

“Right.”

“You’re pretty strong.”

“Same to you.”

Hanamaki glanced at the two shaking hands over the good showdown they had had, clutching his stomach and rolling on the tatami groaning, “The damage runs deep…”

Having mercy on Hanamaki, who suddenly gave in, and having come to terms with the power they both held, both of them turned back to the table. Instead of eating at top speed they ate at the pace they pleased, sipping tapioca and munching on fries. This peaceful scene is what you would have called a warriors break.

“I think I ate a bit too much.”

“It’s because we haven’t been exercising recently.”

“I guess so.”

“How about we show our faces at club practice tomorrow?”

“Sure.”

After eating and drinking until they were full, they leant against the wall, satisfied. It was a warm, comforting moment. Taking a hot bath, unwinding in the sauna, eating a good meal, the fan gently carrying a breeze towards them— It was a moment of bliss.

Eyes closed and exhaustion finally settling in, everything was disrupted by music playing loudly through the speakers in the resting area.

“Huh? Seems like something’s starting…” an almost asleep Hanamaki woke up, startled.

“Look at that…!” Eyes wide, he pointed out at the open area outside.

Iwaizumi and Matsukawa stood up to look over.

A low stage had been unknowingly set up, a group of elderly people who had just gotten out of the baths and enjoying a beer gathered around it, microphones held gleefully in their hands. The sound of unknown old men singing enka songs roared through the resting area.

“I didn’t think they’d have karaoke here.”

“I can’t sleep like this.”

“This blows.”

For these three high school boys with little life experience, and it was a little too early to be battling it out in enka songs. Slipping past the old men excited by songs of mountains and waterfalls, death and killing, the three boys shuffled out of the resting and dining area, leaving it all behind.

***

Escaping the enka hell the three boys, wearing the indoor slippers, stumbled upon an arcade.

“Oh, they have the alligator game.*”

“Ready for the hunt.”

“Don’t you think it’s a bit cruel to hit their heads?”

“That crane game has a PS4 in it.”

“There’s no way you could win it.”

Familiar sounds and music filled the room. The three wandered aimlessly around the to all the old crane machines until Iwaizumi suddenly called out, “Oh! Let’s play this! Have a showdown!”

In front of the eager Iwaizumi was a punching bag machine. But Matsukawa wrinkled his brow at the effort of it all, “No way, I hate these power type games. You’re going to thrash us anyway Iwaizumi.”

“There’s no winning or losing in punching. It’s to test yourself.”

“You said showdown before.”

It seemed like they were about to break down into another fight but Hanamaki, blue-faced, cut in, “Sorry… but I… the moment I use any force I think I’ll have ramen spewing out of my mouth.”

“Don’t wanna see that.”

“If that’s the case, how about we head home? Since we’re tired.”

It was when the three went to check the time that they saw it.

“Oh.”

Hanamaki pointed to the back of the arcade.

“Damn, air hockey!”

“Huh?”

“Oh, it really is! Air hockey! Air hockey!”

At the back of the arcade was an air hockey machine, old and clunky like the rest of the machines.

“Oh crap! How long has it been since we played air hockey?”

“I haven’t played since junior high!”

“Hurry up, let’s play! How much is it?”

“I won’t lose!”

“Who versus who for the first game?”

Wanting to spew ramen from his mouth, whether someone was going to win or lose, all of that was forgotten as the three hurriedly rushed to stuff one hundred yen into the machine. And thus the first round of the air hockey tournament began.

***

“The bathhouse was unexpectedly interesting.”

“We’ve discovered a great place.”

“Right?”

They had eaten to their heart’s content, played around like children before heading into the baths once again to wash off the sweat. With satisfied faces, they headed home on the free shuttle.

“I didn’t even think it would be this interesting.”

“We spent all our money on the air hockey machine though.”

“We exchanged for so many coins.”

After reminiscing the day using only the words “sick”, “seriously”, and “fun” they eventually quieted down. Whether it was the swaying of the bus, the fatigue from the baths, their full stomachs, or the soft orange light of the setting sun filling the bus that had the three nodding off, no one was sure.

Staring blankly out the window Iwaizumi mumbled, “... If only he had come.”

Upon hearing those words Hanamaki and Matsukawa’s eyes flew open, despite almost falling asleep.

“Huh, by ‘him’ you mean… Him?”

“If you say ‘him’ there’s no one but him.”

“Him… yeah him…”

The three of them exchanged glances nodding in agreement “Him”, “yeah him.” And bursting out into laugher but it only took a moment before they stopped.

“No, it’s better that he wasn’t here.”

“I guess.”

“It would be pretty wild if he were.”

“But he definitely would have stolen the microphone out of the old lady’s hands.”

“Gotta do a duet I guess.”

“And then he’d get a tonne of candy and mikan.”

“Definitely.”

Right in the middle of their heated talk about ‘him’, the phone in Iwaizumi’s pocket rang out.

“Hm?”

Iwaizumi glanced at the notification, letting out an “ugh” and leaning back, the other two asked what it was and Iwaizumi showed them his phone.

“It’s from him.”

It was a message from him – Oikawa Tohru.

“Really?”

“Hell, he might be hiding in here watching us.”

“Surveying us huh.”

Of course, it would have been unlikely, but perhaps it wasn’t with the person called Oikawa. You could say that he was mysterious, or rather incomprehensible, whichever it was he was inexplicably terrifying.

After looking around the windows and the bus to confirm that Oikawa wasn’t there, Hanamaki let out a sigh, “So what did he say?”

“He just asked ‘Whatcha doing?’ Doesn’t he have anything else to do?”

“Tell him we’re in Las Vegas, send ‘In Las Vegas now’.”

“Idiot.”

“That’s stupid.”

While they bantered they took a photo, bathed in the setting sun, and sent it a message along the lines of “Coming back from Las Vegas with Matsukawa and Hanamaki”. And a reply came back immediately, obviously addressed to all three of them.

“Here we go, ‘ Is this Las Vegas at Naruko Hot springs*?’. Why Naruko hot springs? Is it the kokeshi? ” Hanamaki laughed before his expression changed, “Wait how did he know we went to the baths? Is there a place called Las Vegas in Naruko?”

Both Matsukawa and Iwaizumi replied immediately with serious faces, “Of course not.”

“Oh but hot springs sound good too,” Matsukawa added, stretching in his seat.

“Hot springs, huh…That means table tennis and not air hockey.” As Iwaizumi smirked his phone rang again.

“No fair! I want to go!” came another message from Oikawa.

This time Hanamaki replied, “Air hockey warrior Iwaizumi was seriously something.” and a reply from Oikawa came immediately.

“He said, ‘I’d beat him no sweat’. What are you gonna do Iwaizumi?”

“As if I’d lose.” Iwaizumi replied casually, but his fighting spirit burned deep in his eyes.

“This is going to be serious.”

“Yeah.”

Hanamaki and Matsukawa looked at one another.

Would there really be another round of the air hockey tournament? Who knows?

The three of them thought about the days ahead of them on the swaying bus.

For the three years of high school, if not the years of elementary school and middle school, the boys that had spent more time bonding with their volleyball teammates than their parents or siblings, were now about to walk different paths. Away from their schools, their hometown.

“God, I’m getting bus sick,” Matsukawa said blue-faced and Hanamaki laughed.

“You’re so weak… wait I don’t feel so good either.”

“Don’t look down, look outside!” Iwaizumi pointed, putting his phone away in his pocket.

“What are you going to do about Oikawa?” Hanamaki asked, “You still haven’t replied to his ‘I’d beat him no sweat’ comment.”

“Just leave it.”

The other two laughed at the blunt reply.

“Amazing, he’s not even here and he managed to barge in.”

“His presence is too strong.”

“That’s why it’s a good thing he isn’t here with us.”

As they laughed amongst themselves the bus approached the station. They knew it well, this twilight town they always walked through together. The bus winded through, this small journey was almost coming to an end. As each small journey ends, the days slowly pass by. The match ends, retiring from club activities, graduating from high school.

The time to part ways will definitely come, but this won’t be a problem for them. The time spent together, the sweat and tears they shed, all of it is part of their bodies and souls. Along with the things that they built up together, their strength, technique, confidence, and trust, all these things make up their bodies. And each of them will walk a new path to a place they haven’t trekked.

As all roads are connected, although separated, for now, they will surely meet again. And so for the when they meet again so that they can hold their heads high and laugh, they will continue to take on each challenge.

How about you?

Are you moving forward?

A motivation that can only be gained from friends pushes them onwards through fatigue. If friends are what keeps one going when they’re apart, then not having them by their sides will be all right.

“Continue on unwaveringly.”

That’s all they needed.

***

While the three began to head their separate ways home after hopping off the bus, Oikawa was hunched in the corner of the clubroom staring at his phone, “Why did they leave me on read? Damn it!!”

TRANSLATION NOTES:

Electricity baths: Pretty much a bath that has panels running down the sides that shoot electrical pulses into the water. I’ve been in one and it’s kind of tingly at first but it feels kind of like a massage if you get used to it. It’s not all that common in Japan so even then it’s a sort of novelty to Japanese people.

Waterfall feature: I didn’t know how to translate this but it’s basically a pipe at a height where the hot water comes out. You can sit under it to hit your back and it’s basically like a waterfall/massage.

Jinbei: Traditional Japanese top and bottoms. The kind you see babies wear to summer festivals (I guess like a two-piece, yukata top and pants). Made out of a thin material and made particularly for hot weather.

Alligator game: in English, this game is Alligator hunt, but in Japanese, it’s called (ワニワニパニック) waniwani panicky, alligator panic, Matsukawa follows with a “What a panic” to finish Hanamaki’s sentence but I changed it a bit so English readers could get the reference.

Naruko hot springs: One of the most popular hot springs in Miyagi is also known for their wooden dolls, kokeshi. If you ever go to Miyagi, Naruko is beautiful in fall!!

As a small disclaimer: I have taken some liberties in translation to make the novel read smoothly. So please don’t quote specific words as canon. that being said I tried my best to stay faithful to the original. For this reason I will not allow translations into another language using this as the base text. I apologise to anyone who is keen on sharing it in another language but please do so using the original Japanese text.

Anyway, if you enjoyed this chapter please consider supporting Haikyuu and buying a copy of this novel (volume 11) ! I may consider doing more novel translations in the future!

I do have a Ko-fi so if you do feel like it, please donate!

#Haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu light novel #seijoh #seijo #matsukawa issei #light novel #leo translation #hanamaki takahiro #oikawa tōru #oikawa tooru #iwaizumi hajime #HQ #translation #PLEASE SCREAM TO ME IN THE TAGS I WANT TO KNOW EVERYTHING #aoba johsai

1K notes · View notes

pariiahs · 2 years

Text

⧼ ozan dolunay, cismale, he/him / pursuit of happiness by kid cudi + golden boy drenched in silver and green, brighten every room with your presence, leave them blue in your absence. // ‘leaving like a father, running like water’ // barefoot, tiptoeing across wooden floors. close the door behind you, flee the scene before she can stir. it’s better this way, that’s what you always say // ‘i’m selfish, private and easily bored. will this be a problem?’ // a handful of galleons and those dazzling eyes can take you anywhere. when the times get tough, the weight gets heavy, the expectations pile on, empty your daddy’s pockets and run. // ‘what do i stand for? most nights, i don’t know.’ // speak to hear your own voice. take a stand to make a scene. it’s easy to be on the winning team. but when the tides change, and the glimmer of gold fades, will you change your mind? why so quiet, golden boy? ⧽

━━ hey, isn’t that MARCUS GREENGRASS? i read a daily prophet article on him once ; the THIRTY ONE year old pure blood WIZARD is a SLYTHERIN alumnus who has gone on to be a POTIONEER. i’ve heard he can be quite CHARMING & WORLDLY but i don’t know… he came off very EGOTISTICAL & CAPRICIOUS in that interview. it really is hard to know what to believe these days though, isn’t it?

find more details & wanted connections under the cut:

the basics:

Marcus is the oldest Greengrass child and the only son - which essentially means he is a prized jewel in a pureblood family.

He does care for his younger siblings, particularly Astoria - she is probably the one person in the world he has not (yet) screwed over.

He was a bit of a mommy’s boy when he was a child, but they grew distant when he went to Hogwarts and things were never really the same.

His father was always....there. Just there. Piling on expectations, but never having any follow-through. Marcus saw him as something of a joke.

He never felt fully attached to his family or his home. It felt like an elaborate performance, as if they were all actors on the world’s largest stage. He played the part of the charming, handsome son. Excelled in school, got along well with his peers, played a bit of quidditch, broke more than a few hearts. He glided through his school years with an uncanny ease. Like he had been born to do it.

His father had expectations of his son. A belief that Marcus would follow his suit in wars to come. He speaks openly of his beliefs of blood purity and worthiness, moreso than he does around any other member of the family. Marcus finds it all...pointless. Baseless. Something of the past. He knows trouble is brewing and he has no desire to be a part of it, on any side. He never shied away from disagreeing with his father or his friends in Slytherin. But when it comes to risking his life....to risking his inheritance....well that’s a risk he couldn’t take. It doesn’t make him brave, but then again he’s never been one for Gryffindor.

Marcus takes the money and runs. He disappears, for a bit. But he returns on occasion to refill his wallet and check in on Astoria. He keeps in touch through letters. Mostly to his sisters. He writes to his mother but at some point forgets to write her back and then....that’s just it. They no longer speak. It is what it is.

He never writes to his father. He’ll have an earful when he returns.

Marcus travels the whole wide world, a few times over. Steps foot on every continent. Some for just a short period, others for the better half of a year. He returns home for days or months at a times. Stays away when things get too dark for comfort. Comes back as the wizarding world starts anew, pretends as if he never left and joins in the revelries.

He’s back in town when he meets her - not meets, but sees. For the first time. A woman unlike any other and he loves her. Loves like he never did before, in a way that frightens him. For a moment he feels...attached. Committed to a life, to a place, to a person. He burns it down the moment his father lends him a match - she simply is not worthy.

He comes and goes, but stays more often than not these days. His father speaks of future generations. Of passing on the family homestead, the family name, the family heirlooms. It is clear luxury comes at a price. He must return to his starring role as the golden boy, if he only he can remember his lines. He is committed to himself, to the fallacy of his own happiness, and he will pay any price to keep it - even if it means settling down or selling his soul. All’s fair in love, war, and generational wealth.

wanted connections:

SATURDAYS ARE FOR THE BOOOOYS: i just want...obnoxious straight male energy. no thoughts, no feelings, just pure vibes. bad decisions lead to good times. babes, whiskey, quidditch....everyone’s emotionally stunted and it’s a BLAST. i would like for him to have friends even if they are incredibly vapid friendships thank you <3

MR. PERFECTLY FINE: in the nicest way possible....marcus, uh, sucks at romantic relationships. he lies, he cheats, he leaves. he leads people on, makes them feel like the most important person in the world, and then he just gets bored and moves on. are you need of some heartbreak for your character’s backstory or development? look no further!! could be a recent fling, a hogwarts sweetheart, or anything in between. i think marcus is straight, but the last time i thought an oc was straight he ended up being husbands with his life long best friends. writing straight people is hard.

#the stats page is a work in progress and i need to finalize his playlist BUT #here ya go #for now.#nox.intro #intro: marcus

4 notes · View notes

hashtagkairideservedbetter · 5 years

Text

My main issue(s) with KH3

Spoilers abound, so please don’t read if you haven’t beaten the game or don’t want any negative opinions influencing how you see the ending/ the game. I did enjoy several parts of KH3, but this post is focused on things I had issues with, and if you don’t want to see criticism of your media please look elsewhere.

This is how I interpreted the game as someone coming into KH3 with KH2 being the last game I played, and a playlist of youtube videos spanning lets plays, summaries, and humorous deconstructions as a codex.

Here’s the thing. I’ve seen several people already break down how KH3′s story and pacing could have been handled better. Specifically, to more comprehensively tie in the 10,000 plot points that needed to be covered in a way that actually helps connect the main characters. I’m not going to get into all of that, because frankly I can’t fake knowing enough about the background lore of Kingdom Hearts to know how to better juggle all of the intermediary games into KH3.

Most of my grievances honestly lie with the handling of the Destiny Trio and the Disney Worlds.

I’m going to do a read more on this because it’s gonna be a long one. (Also very much a train of thought, so disorganized, sorry).

So. Sora. Protagonist of the game (mostly. kind of?).

A cheerful ray of sunshine.

A Keyblade wielder who has overcome traumatizing ordeals that tore him away from all he loved and knew at least twice now for over three years.

A continuity disaster stuck being pinballed back and forth between happy goofs and hollow tragedies every thirty minutes in between busywork battles and off-scene disney films for 85% of KH3.

I understand that Sora’s greatest power is supposed to be his optimism, as it’s sort of the prerequisite for going through disney worlds where people sing about their problems. I get it.

However, there’s a difference between, “I’m naive and happy and oblivious and that’s why I’m a guardian of the light,” and “I have battled true darkness and felt true loss and decided that choosing to be kind, choosing to embrace joy in new experiences and relationships, is a bigger middle finger to the darkness than anything else.” Guess which one I prefer. Guess which one I was thinking would finally be Sora’s character arc. Instead he’s happy, happy, happy, happy... and then suddenly in the eleventh hour having a mental breakdown.

Sora is written into a loop every game of kind, naive, but unchanging (”Don’t ever change, Sora”). That was endearing when we were both 14, but after almost twenty years it gets tiring to watch Sora get hit with a reset button every time you meet up with him again. There’s a scene in the gummi ship early on in the games where Donald asks Sora to “take this seriously,” and Goofy remarks that they seem to be stuck in a rut as Donald and Sora have the same conversation over and over again before entering the first series of Disney worlds. Sora knows he needs the power of waking in order to help his friends and free those trapped in his heart, but seems content to just drop into various worlds and wing it, and hope that it all sort of works out.

And then when it does work out, and Sora uses the power to save everyone, he’s immediately told he’s doomed now? Like, what was the point of him being able to use this to connect with people if he’s doomed. Why did they want him to have this. What’s the point then of Sora having these strong connections.

Each world makes a big scene about the friendships and connections that Sora makes so easily, but in KH3 there never seems to be enough time for Sora to actually pay them any attention unless the person is right in front of him. Sora seems to make connections for the sake of making connections in KH3, and the ones he has, he does very little to advance or reconnect with.

Like, the whole point of 100 Acre Wood this time was apparently that Sora’s connection to Pooh was weaker for some reason. I honestly didn’t understand the reason or how it was magically resolved just from Sora showing up and saying hi? But whatever.

My two least favorite worlds were Corona and Arendelle, for the same reason. There was no believable connection between Sora and the characters there. For fuck’s sake, the combat ally you get in Arendelle is the snow monster, not even a main character.

Sora is like the living embodiment of the B99 clip of Rosa with her dog. He just met Elsa and spoke a whopping five sentences to her, but damn if he won’t climb a mountain five times just for her to save herself without ever talking to him again. Like, literally that is the only interaction Sora has with Elsa. Same thing with Anna, and in her case I literally had to mute my tv so I could track what she was actually saying since they decided to shove two songs from the movie into this game.

You spend the majority of your time in these worlds trying to play catch up to the leads as they have their movie play out around the bend in the road in front of you, out of your sight. Props to Disney’s ego that they think I remember the beat by beat plots of their films when they came out 9 years ago (Tangled) and 6 years ago (Frozen). I actually had the thought of going and watching Tangled just to remember what Flynn and Rapunzel got up to while Sora wandered around a marsh and had a pointless conversation with Marluxia.

(Also, getting real tired of the “Good to see you Sora” “Who the fuck are you?” “Oh that’s right you don’t remember that game haha it’s fine it was a gameboy game nobody even knows what those are anymore.” That shit was getting old midway through KH2.)

To be fair, the PoTC world suffers from the same problem as the other two. Sora shows up, sees everyone for thirty seconds, gets separated, and while we’re dicking around trying to find white crabs on the islands there’s a whole movie going on that we don’t see or participate in. I feel really bad for anyone who did not keep up with that franchise because I only watched the third movie the once and I was confused as hell. Also, the whole time I was finding the crabs in Port Royal all I could think about was this ProZD video.

I just. I’m 26 years old. These movies hold no nostalgia for me, and maybe that’s the problem. I already had a connection to Aladdin, Peter Pan, etc, so I was maybe more willing to suspend my disbelief and just enjoy the interactions. But those Disney worlds also felt more tied in to the plot. You can make the argument of Marluxia and Larxene putting pressure on Sora to find the Wayfinders so that six princesses of heart aren’t used as backup... but where are the other three? Anna, Elsa, Rapunzel, and Kairi make four. Where’s Merida, Tiana, Moana? Mulan or Pocahontas even, since Moana was probably too recent. (But probs not, as it was probably starting development in 2014). If that’s going to be yet another subplot, shouldn’t you at least see it through?

My point is, I can distinctly recall prior games mostly keeping to the established script in the disney worlds, but still letting Sora really get in there and interact with the characters. The heartless, nobodies, etc were a real wrench in the works for the plots, and had an actual effect on how the story was told and the order of events. Sora felt more involved in cutscenes and was an active participant in the world’s events instead of just a bystander.

In KH1 and KH2 there was a dialogue happening between the villain of each world and a greater evil. Hell, in KH1 they were a unified council! In KH3 they’re puppets who don’t even talk to the bigger bad like Randall or Mother Gothel, or are there for a whopping thirty seconds like Hans. It makes it more and more obvious that the Disney worlds are just being shoehorned in as a contractual obligation than for any real purpose anymore.

The only world that’s appeared in all three games, Olympus, was especially jarring. Like, you could tell there was a lot of corners cut on what VAs they could get for this game, as Phil does not speak once. Meg spends more time making eyes at Hercules and nodding than showing any of the sass she has from the film. (This was a thing in KH2 as well tho so I can’t complain about them continuing to drop the ball on even background women characters-- Oh wait, I can, because they’ve had T H I R T E E N YEARS to get it right.)

Which I guess is as good a segue as any into Kairi Time.

Listen. Did I mention I’m 26? Yeah. I started reading fanfic on livejournal. I was there when AO3 first got its start. I’ve seen the shipping wars. I know the dark past of Soriku vs Sokai.

I couldn’t give less of a fuck.

These characters are still 16 and I am now 26. I’m fine with them trading noogies and maybe being able to kick back and play some Mario Kart. Kairi would wipe the floor with both of them because she had time to get good enough to beat Tidus, Wakka, and Selphie combined between KH1 and KH2.

The point is, I don't care one way or the other about shipping. If my 15 year old self were here, they would be horrified I wasn't over the moon when Kairi and Sora finally shared the paopu fruit. As it is, I kind of stared blankly at my screen and went 'huh, there's gonna be a lot of fanfic fixing this moment.' From both sides, I think, because even if you're into Sokai you gotta admit that moment did not feel romantic. It felt forced. Like "Oh hey, we've been putting this off, huh. Welp, here we go!"

It doesn't help that I really, truly, don't like whoever Kairi's VA is in this game. Like, she sounds so ditzy and soft. Get that shit out of here. The dialogue and voice acting in this series has never been its strength, but honestly, I cringed my way through every interaction between Kairi and Axel because of how stilted and bad their conversations were! I’m definitely not saying that Kairi’s voice was stellar in 1 and 2, but at least her voice was clear, and had personality, and by the end of 2 was actually fairly strong. She sounded strong, and determined to be fighting with Sora and Riku, green as she was then, in the World That Never Was.

Whenever she talked in the third one I just sort of grit my teeth and wondered why someone on the production team wanted Kairi to sound so weak.

Then they killed her at the labyrinth and I said, ‘Ah, that tracks.’

I played FFXV, so I guess shame on me for not seeing the signs when the girl love interest is about to be capable and not needing the hero to save her. She gets taken! And killed. Fool me twice, shame on me.

I actually saw people excited about that Verum Rex thing and after seeing the Noctis ripoff reaching for the Luna ripoff covered in purple light I laughed, and laughed. And then sighed and reached for a stiff drink.

All this to say that while I’m angry but not truly surprised that Kairi was once again shafted, I’m all the more pissed that they did it in the laziest, most insulting way possible by hinging it all on Sora needing a reason to fight Xehanort. Like, really???? Really. That’s your angle. The man-pain trope is so painfully overdone. Please. It’s 2019. Come into the future with us, Nomura.

And I feel bad that all of the stuff I just wrote mostly revolves around Kairi being Sora’s romantic interest. But that’s because that’s all this game allowed her to be! Princess of light what? Bequeathed Keyblade wielder in her own right who??? Every battle she and Axel share with Sora they get their asses kicked in 30 seconds flat, so maybe Merlin should have left them suspended in time a little longer. Maybe long enough to convince someone out there in the universe that these two deserved to be competent.

Hell, not just competent. Amazing. Kairi deserved to be able to stand on her own two feet and hold her own. To be running alongside her boys and not just be an object for them to tussle over or save. As Aqua’s somewhat successor, she deserved to be a terrifying wielder of battle magicks and flurries of light magic.

To be replaced by Xion was just insult to injury. Like, I’m very happy that Xion got her heart back and was reunited with Roxas and Axel, but she didn’t need to be brought back at Kairi’s expense. The world won’t implode if the replica and actual person inhabit the same space.

Which is leads us to our third member.

Riku. To be fair. Riku got the most growth as a person out of the three of these kids, easy. We finally see a Riku who is confident in himself and his journey, and willing to take everything he learned along the way to help Mickey, Aqua, and even his own replica. However....

He doesn’t seem to give two shits about Kairi anymore? Did they even talk, like, once during the whole game? I can’t recall a single instance where Sora, Kairi, and Riku were in the same place together where it was just them, and they held an actual conversation. Hell, where they even said “Hi, how’s it going? What have you learned, had any good food lately?”

God, even when Kairi was taken, and then when she was killed, Riku had one moment of anger, and then was completely, like, chill again, and back to talking Sora down. Like, what? I don’t want any love triangle bullshit, but Riku and Kairi were friends as much as Sora and Kairi and Sora and Riku are friends.

And that’s what bothered me the most about the disappearance of Kairi introducing this bullshit narrative of Sora abusing his power of waking. He spent two games trying to get him, Riku, and Kairi together. But he doesn’t want Riku to help him get Kairi back? And Riku’s just going to let him go?! After all Riku has done and learned about falling to darkness and clawing yourself back to light and peace, he’s just going to let Sora do the same?

I call bullshit.

And this is why when Sora suddenly faded out of view on the beach next to Kairi I slowly leaned back in my chair, dropped my controller into my lap, and flipped off my tv screen with both hands.

#vent #kh3 spoilers #kh3 #writing criticism #give these kids the happy ending they deserve #they can be paired in any combo you want #but let them be happy

1 note · View note

absynthe--minded · 6 years

Note

City on the edge of forever

one-word summation: overrated

the actual review: okay, I said it. I love ‘City on the Edge of Forever’. I think it’s one of the best TOS episodes. I don’t think it’s The Best, though (that honor probably goes to ‘The Trouble with Tribbles’ for comedy and ‘Balance of Terror’ or ‘Journey to Babel’ for serious drama) and I think its reputation as The Most Awesome TOS Episode is somewhat undeserved. (I also think Harlan Ellison’s perpetual salt over his script being heavily adapted for budget reasons is annoying and pointless after so many years.)

Here’s the plot, if you’re unfamiliar: an Enterprise away team discovers an omnipotent or near-omnipotent entity called the Guardian of Forever, who shows them scenes from Earth’s past. Dr. McCoy has an accident, injects himself with a drug he shouldn’t have injected himself with, and under its influence flings himself through the Guardian of Forever into late 1930s Earth. Kirk and Spock follow and discover that something McCoy did irrevocably changed the future, so while they seek him out they also try and figure out what happened so they can undo it and return to their own timeline without further incident. Eventually, they discover that Edith Keeler, a pacifist and social activist Kirk is slowly falling in love with, will become influential enough to prevent America from entering into World War II long enough for Hitler to fully conquer Europe/Britain. Kirk must let her die to save the world. He agonizes over this choice but ultimately decides that his love life is less important than the whole future of humanity and doesn’t intervene when Edith is run over in the street by a car. Our trio returns to the future, there’s some pensive thought about sacrifice and historical impact, roll credits.

There are a lot of things that are really great about this episode, but it doesn’t feel like Star Trek. (And that can either be a good or a bad thing, but when I’m rating Best Star Trek Episodes I kind of want an episode to feel like Star Trek.) The reveal that Edith has to die to save the future comes relatively late, with not a lot of time spent on the moral dilemma of knowingly allowing someone to die when you know their death will bring about a net positive. And the focus of that dilemma is entirely regarding Kirk’s personal feelings for her instead of asking the kind of big questions Star Trek was even then becoming famous for - it’s about If Kirk’s Girlfriend Is Worth Saving, not about the deep and serious questions surrounding action and inaction in dangerous situations. This could have been a really fascinating examination of responsibility in the face of greater knowledge, but instead it’s a love story. And sometimes a love story is all you need, but in this case I’m way more interested in the bigger picture, especially since I don’t buy the Kirk/Keeler romance. (And they don’t actually do a very good job of selling that romance, either - we see Kirk being somewhat captivated with Edith, yes, but his interest in her seems to stem from an admiration of her work and her values and her ambitions for humanity, not necessarily the kind of deep and abiding world-shattering love that would make you seriously doubt if your own future deserves to exist. It’s not impossible to craft a believable pairing in a standard TV show runtime - ‘Rejoined’ did it thirty years later with a similar one-off character, after all - but it does take more effort than is exhibited here.)

final thoughts: “He got his head caught in a mechanical rice picker.”

#to boldly go again #star trek tos #kirk #spock #mccoy #icbarightnow

11 notes · View notes

sodalester · 6 years

Text

home

summary: dan and phil go on property brothers

genre: fluff. they’re married and gross the entire time

word count: 1800

warnings: you’ll barf like 5 times

me: what if i did a house hunters fic

@astronomerhxwell: no do a property brother fic

well here you go, oliver. enJOY

The time had came. After years of hard work and dedication, Dan and Phil were prepared to make one of the most important decisions of their life.

The time had come from them to buy a house.

Originally, they were going to keep it simple. Buy a nice, million dollar house near the beach where they could live the dream of depressed middle aged people stuck in cubicles. But of course, they’re Dan and Phil; nothing with them would be simple.

Instead of going the reasonable, suggested route, they decided to go a whole other path. That path being moving to Florida and applying to be on the show Property Brothers. Surprisingly enough, they got in (Dan pointed out that it probably had to do with the fact that their budget was, well, very flexible). And so the two packed all their stuff up and shipped it off to America, ready for a whole new experience in the country of freedom and questionable leadership.

“How do you think the viewers will react when they find out we’re on Property Brothers?” Dan asked. They were on the flight over to Florida, having said goodbye to England hours ago. Phil was resting his head on Dan’s shoulder, exhausted from lack of sleep due to nerves.

“Considering we’re going to be referred to as husbands during the show, I think we may have a few thousand deaths on our hands.”

Dan rolled his eyes. “Personally, I can’t wait to for everyone to know. Finally I can fuck my husband in public without it blowing up on twitter.”

“I can most assure you, Dan, that you cannot do that no matter if we are out or not. Twitter wouldn’t be the only thing blowing up if we did that.”

Dan merely laughed and kissed Phil’s head, resting his own against it.

The two planned to spend at least a month in a hotel, so Phil made sure to pick one that wasn’t too expensive or shady. As much as Dan tried to convince him, Phil refused to rent a condo at a resort.

“As endless as it seems, we do have a limit to our money,” Phil had reminded.

The hotel was nice enough, with a small kitchen area and couch along with the typical hotel beds. It would last them long enough to get their new house. They’d be meeting up with Drew and Jonathan in three days, so in the meantime they enjoyed their few days of relaxation.

Those three days were spent rather quickly, and soon they were thrown into the mess of viewing homes and listening to ideas being rambled off at them. They already knew what they wanted; a three bedroom, two bathroom house with a nice backyard for their future dog. It didn’t have to be big, but did need lots of storage space for their equipment.

Despite their requests seeming simple to them, it turned out to be much more difficult. House after house failed, and the two were frustrated. Of course, the designs the twins came up with were wonderful, but Dan and Phil felt that they hadn’t found the right home yet.

They were viewing another house, one that was thirty minutes away from the beach. It was in a good neighborhood with lots of young families. The house was a two story house with two bedrooms on the second floor and one on the first.

It was when Dan entered the guest bedroom that he knew this was the house. Phil was talking to Drew and Jonathan about something, but Dan wasn’t paying attention. Instead, he was seeing a baby crib and butterflies covering the walls. He was seeing his own child run down the hall, Phil chasing behind them as they giggled and laughed. He knew this was the house; this was the place where they could start a family.

“This is the one.” He turned to Phil abruptly, interrupting his conversation. Phil stared at him.

“We haven’t even seen the whole place yet.”

“I know, but,” Dan turned to look at the room once again, “I can see us living here. I can see our child living here.”

Phil’s eyes immediately softened, and Dan knew he had won him over. It wasn’t often that they talked about their future child, but when they did, it always made Phil an emotional mess.

(In the background, the Property Brothers made gagging noises).

Sure enough, they ended up putting an offer in on the house. It was a little worn down and the kitchen needed some major updates, but it was nothing the Property Brothers couldn’t handle (that was the whole point of the show, after all).

Next came the planning, which turned out to be a major nerd session for Dan and Phil. Since they were letting the twins move all their stuff and stage their house, they had to make sure there were certain… arrangements made.

“I need an area for all my Guild War stuff,” was the first thing Dan said.

Next to him, Phil rolled his eyes. “He needs a place for his shrine.”

Dan not so gently kicked Phil out of the table, trying to convey the message of ‘we are trying to be a normal couple here, not the giant nerds that we actually are’.

It was pointless in the end, as the two ended up talking over each other each time they brought up some merch they had collected. They were trying to explain what each one was from, but it was obvious that the twins were merely amused with their bickering.

They had to trust the brothers with this, as they were getting nowhere. Instead, they shifted focus onto what tile should be used in the kitchen. That started a whole new argument as Phil told Dan that no, they could not have it completely monochromatic, they needed color.

He was certain the twins were grateful when they left two hours later.

They had the plan, they had the house, and all that was left to do was put it all together. They were invited to help out on the first day, which was really code for ‘we need some footage for the show that isn’t you two being overly fond and gross’.

Neither of them had any idea of how demolition stuff worked, so they blindly followed the instructions provided. They ended up taking out a wall, a feat that required much more time and effort than it would have if the team had done it. But they got the footage needed, and that was what mattered.

The two returned to their hotel, exhausted. Dan falls onto the bed, melting into the sheets.

“I think I’ll just live here now,” he groans.

Phil shakes his head, laying down gently next to him. “I think you need a nap.”

Dan turns his head to look at Phil. “Rub my back?” He gave Phil his best pout.

Phil sighed. He couldn’t resist the pout. He sat up and began to work on Dan’s back, the man melting under him. “I hate you.”

“Love you too,” Dan moaned, feeling the tension in his back release.

He ended up falling asleep two minutes later, the physical activity and Phil’s touches proving too much for him. Phil merely smiled and laid down next to him, settling down for a nap as well.

It was a long process, but soon the house was ready for them. Phil hardly slept the night before, his mind racing with all the possibilities of what their new house could look like. He knew nothing could prepare him for what was coming, of course.

His thoughts were confirmed the moment he stepped into the house. The entry was all redone with their marvel pictures hanging next to hangers and places to put their shoes. Next to him, Dan was admiring it all in shock.

Everything was so orderly and placed in the exactly right spot. The colors were soft and cozy, making the house feel even more like home. In the kitchen, the twins had managed to find the perfect tile that combined both Dan and Phil’s aesthetic.

The gaming room held both all their gaming supplies and Dan’s Guild Wars shrine. Dan, being the overly dramatic person that he was, took a moment to “pray” to it (this earned a punch from Phil). The twins explained how the room was set up to give the best lighting possible for filming and the place where they could set up their camera without having to worry about hitting the table and causing it to shake.

The master bedroom was huge, with its own seating area and a huge bed to fit the giant men that they were. For sleeping, of course. Nothing else. The seating area, however, was undeniably the best part of the room. Portraits of Dan and Phil throughout the years were lined up against the windowsill. Their own merch surrounded it, marking their hardwork. It made Dan smile and look at Phil. They shared a fond look before they were being escorted to see the final bedroom.

It was there that Dan lost it.

The walls were painted a soft green with purple butterflies on it. The window was covered by translucent white curtains, letting in the perfect amount of light. There was a white bookcase waiting to be filled and a chest under the window to hold toys. The most heart wrenching part was the white crib and rocking chair placed near the window, patiently waiting for memories to be made on them.

Dan covered his mouth, staring at the crib. He was going to start a family here. His own child would lie in that crib, be rocked to sleep on that chair, and live out their first few years here.

He could feel tears filling up his eyes, and he reached out for Phil. It was overwhelming, in the best way possible. His heart was exploding with love and hope for the future.

Phil took one look at Dan and pulled him close, rubbing his back. Dan buried his face, embarrassed to be crying in front of the camera, but he was smiling so wide it hurt.

“You were right, Dan,” Phil whispered softly so only Dan could hear, “we are going to raise our child here.”

That only made Dan cry more, fat tears of joy soaking Phil’s shirt. He heard some ‘awww’ing from the crew members and he giggled.

“We look like such a stereotypical couple right now,” Dan said, pulling back from Phil.

Phil laughed. “We are a couple, Dan.”

Dan shook his head, burying his face back into Phil’s shirt. He loved him so much.

The rest of the tour went by in a haze of big tears and watery smiles, and soon enough they were moving in. The house was everything they could have asked for. Soon enough, they’d have a child of their own, a dog, and domestic bliss to last them an eternity.

For now, though, Dan was happy to lay with Phil in their living room and enjoy the moment.

They were finally home.

#my fics #phanfic #phanfiction #phan fluff #phan #dan and phil

94 notes · View notes

aviationfiction · 7 years

Text

XVI

Dante St. James

“Future’s at the club tonight. Fredrick and I are going to pass through. I know you have to finish up that proposal, so sit this one out.”

My eyes slowly panned over to the one paper ball that inevitably failed me out of the seven that I’d thoughtlessly tossed into the trashcan. I suddenly had the urge to ball up the other twelve pages of one concept I’d mustered up for the Cartier Christmas campaign. They often say physical activity is the most strenuous task one could force on the human body but that’s absolutely inaccurate. It’s thinking. Sending our minds into overdrive can craft up some of the most brilliant ideas that will contribute to continuing to make this world a so called better place or it can send a person free falling off of the nearest bridge and into the deep abyss. I’ve been planted on his counter stool for nearly six hours transitioning from small spurts of satisfaction to major moments of doubts about the entire project. I’m often referred to as the visionary of the company but I’d quickly take that title and hand it over to the next man or woman if it were simple enough. There are few things in this world that are better than a fresh mind and idea. To be progressive is to be groundbreaking, forward thinking, and a pioneer. There’s a constant need to move the world forward; it is our purpose as human beings to constantly push the envelope so those of the present can enjoy the fruits of our labor and those of the future can further expand it. The whole entire point of marketing is to put your creative mind to work and to nurture the imaginations of those tuned in. It is that part of my job description that remains as the most challenging part.

“Why are you working on a Christmas campaign this early? Shit, we’re just getting towards the end of Spring. You feeling festive already?” Mike placed another handful of waffle fries into his mouth and he obnoxiously chewed on them while chuckling at his own commentary. “You ready to pull out that stale ass artificial Charlie Brown Christmas that you sit out on the table every year? Yo, actually, I don’t know why they’d put you of all people on a Christmas campaign for any company. You’re a jolly green giant ass Grinch. You’re a light skinned Ebenezer Scrooge. You hate Christmas.”

“I don’t hate Christmas.” I’ve chosen to center this year’s Cartier Winter Tale around it’s timeless symbol, the Panthère de Cartier. I’d envisioned the emblematic cat frolicking around in an enthralling cloudscape above Paris to the sound of Bring Crosby’s infectious and rousing classic “Here Comes Santa Clause”. While sitting in my kitchen today, I’ve also added in the touch of the infamous red Cartier boxes toppling over and slowly floating down within the city like dancing and whirling enchanting snowflakes towards festive Parisians. If that doesn’t send women into an overdrive of need and men into the stores to fulfill their requests for thousands to millions of dollars in dazzling jewels, I don’t know what else will.

“Yes you do. You buy gifts out of obligation and you hide out here on the most family oriented holiday of the year after Thanksgiving. No, actually, Christmas is first.”

“If I hated Christmas I wouldn’t put up a tree to begin with.” He snorted while raising his left eyebrow and he quickly shook his head.

“That shit’s not a tree. It looks like twigs glued onto a pole. Only someone who hates Christmas would call that nonsense you sit out on the living room table a tree.”

“You know why I barely celebrate the holidays. This isn’t new.”

“Because you’re a Jehovah’s Witness and have yet to come out with it?” Instead of aiming another paper ball at the garbage can, I beam it at Mike and nodded in satisfaction when it collided with the side of his head and fell onto the opposite side of the island.

“Come on man. Fred and I offer you to come and kick it with our family all the time and you decline. I do Christmas at my house every year.” “I came to your house on Christmas two years ago. Remember? We played Uno with your cousins until you won because you kept being a sore loser.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right. I had to beg you endlessly for days to show up and you showed up that night, after we’d already opened up all the gifts and eaten Christmas dinner together because you’re a grinch. You looked like the only dumbass sitting at the table eating food by yourself.”

“I always eat at the table.”

“I always eat at the table.” He mocked the sound of my voice and screwed up his face at the proper etiquette. “Whatever man. Get yourself a real tree for Christmas this year and don’t skip out on coming to my house. As a matter of fact, spend the night. I’ll keep reminding you until December. I’m about to get you back into the holiday spirit. I know you’re not having kids until you’re like sixty seven and it’s going to be some oops moment that happens between you and a twenty four year old post mid-life crisis, but we need to work on getting you back into the groove of things now.”

“Sixty seven? Fuck you man.” I couldn’t help but to share a laugh with him over that insult and he shrugged his shoulders and playfully shot me a side eye.

“Unless there’s someone on your radar right now.” He didn’t have to say the name for me to know exactly who he’s alluding to. He hasn’t stopped alluding to her since the day I introduced the two of them.

“Don’t start your shit dumbass.” He smirked and as he wandered off into deep thought, his face transitioned into an earnest expression.

“Speaking of your girl, TMZ had an article up about her pending divorce today. It was somewhat of a hot topic for Stacey when we spoke on the phone earlier.” I panned my eyes down towards the papers scattered in front of me and immediately reached to take a sip of the Gatorade sitting to the left of my arm. Mike is easily Stacey’s go to person for all things gossip and pointless. Initially, I took his need to be on track of all the gossip within the entertainment industry to be apart of his job as an entertainment lawyer, but now I know about seventy percent of it is nothing more than him being nosy and proudly childish. He and Stacey often sit around like two school girls giggling about something U.S. Weekly printed, debating about the rank and relevancy of artists, and shamelessly participating in whatever “Black Twitter” is talking about. I couldn’t care less about who Taylor Swift is dating, what outlandish statement Kanye West has recently made, or whose nude pictures were exposed. As ridiculous as some of their lives are, I respect people’s privacy. I undoubtedly respect Autumn’s.

“She’s not a celebrity. Why are you two keeping track of her divorce?”

“We’re not. It just so happen to be an article. Also, it’s not only on TMZ; a couple of sports blogs have been keeping track of what’s going on. Though they use the word source, I know a lawyer’s anonymous tips when I see them. The article was written in a manner to mock her rather than to be informative. I shouldn’t expect anything decent from a website like TMZ, but there was a sarcastic tone to it. That was the tone of her lawyer rather than of Harvey Levin and his team of writers.” He balled up the wrapper his Chic Fil A spicy chicken sandwich came in and did just as I’d been doing; he turned it into an imaginary basketball and effortlessly shot it into the trashcan. “She hired Sorrell Trope and I know his ego. She caused him to take a loss. She made the decision to not take anything from Coach Harr, although the prenup was thrown out. He gets the house, both cars, jewelry, any money he placed within their joint bank account, and he does not have to pay any alimony whatsoever.”

“Jewelry?” My head slightly jerked back at the revelation and he nodded his head to reassure me in what he said. I’d never heard of a man wanting jewelry back from a woman at any point during my nearly thirty years of living. What exactly do you do with it?

“I’m not sure if he asked for it or if she suggested that she wanted him to keep it but it’s being said that jewelry is apart of the settlement. I’ll never forget when I was in law school and we spent a few weeks studying divorces, the laws that work for them, the laws that work against them, and the proceedings to get through them. I’d been like a damn war between the men and women whenever we’d have lecture discussions about what is owed and what people are entitled to when there’s wealth and profitable assets at stake. You know Nas is my guy and I’ll never forget that initial Kelis settlement. He was ordered to pay fifty one thousand dollars a month in child and spousal support. Shortly after that, he was ordered to cough up another three hundred thousand dollars in attorney fees and accounting expenses. Then the judge slapped another hundred thousand dollar order to pay up back child and spousal support. That shit left me baffled. The crazy part about it is, that wasn’t enough for her. She was initially asking the judge to award her with ninety thousand dollars a month settlement.”

“Why would she want or need so much? She’s an artist in her own right. Well, at the time she was.”

“Yeah she was but she hadn’t made the money that he did. In the case, it was reported that he was spending an estimated fifteen thousand dollars a month on lavish entertainment, gifts, and vacations. She believed that she was entitled to maintain that lifestyle post divorce. Now, you know that I’m fair. I’m all for child support, of course, I stand behind spousal support when it’s done the correct way and it makes sense. I have to shake my head and disagree with some of the absurd requests and settlements but overall, I’m for it. I say all of that to say, what the hell is Autumn doing?” The expression of bewilderment on his face left me speechless and I shrugged my shoulders. I have no answer for him. She already explained to me why she willingly signed a prenuptial agreement and I understood her stance. If I’m aligned with her way of thinking, I’d have to believe that she’s walking away knowing that she loved him and gave it her all. I suppose that’s enough for her.

“I don’t know Mike.”

“She’s a nice person man. He started a new family within the marriage. I don’t believe in karma, I believe in justice. No crimes were committed but whether you stand in front of a preacher, priest, rabbi, or a judge, there are vows and they should be upheld.”

The pain within her eyes often rattles me whenever I have the courage to stare into them. Whether she’s merrily explaining some comedic story from her past, eagerly stating her basketball preferences, or genuinely offering me her perspective and advice about whatever I’ve revealed about myself, the pain is there, lingering between the two of us and silently coercing me to wrap my arms around her petite frame and consume every ounce of it within myself so she no longer has to walk around with such a heavy burden on her shoulders and heart. She tends to go into a daze and her face contorts from a grimace to a disheartened expression that she eventually forces herself to become poker-faced about it. It happened a number of times during our dinner in Miami, as she stared out at the calm waters and admired the view. At one point it took me gently brushing my finger tips along the smooth skin of her hand to regain her attention and rather than using words, she laced her hand around my own and slightly squeezed it to assure me that she was fine. I don’t believe her husband understands the severity of his actions; most men wouldn’t. We’re hailed as leaders, profound thinkers, and pioneers of advancement but we are by far the most simpleminded of the two genders. We don’t see beyond the surface; emotionally. We’ve yet to conquer that and it’s why women, in my opinion, will always have the upper hand. He won’t understand what he’s done until one less person loves him. He’ll feel it when she’s unbelievably happy and he is nothing more than a piece of the past being outcasted by a better future.

“She’ll be alright.”

“You think so?”

“Yes.”

I gathered all of the documents into my hands and properly aligned them before sliding them back inside of the folder. I couldn’t spend another hour focusing on that campaign and it didn’t need anything else from me. Anything more could either taint it or be overkill. Cartier has never been anything less than impressed with my efforts for their company so I don’t expect a change now.

“Did you handle what I asked you to handle?” Mike glanced in my direction and abruptly paused. He then nodded his head as he finished off the last bit of lemonade in his cup.

“You know I did. Real talk, why are you doing this?” Silence fell between the two of us as we locked eyes with one another and I eventually glanced in the direction of the windows as he awaited an answer.

“Because I don’t trust them.”

We didn’t take the conversation any further. The friendship between the three of us has always stood on short explanations or none at all with plenty of understanding to go around. Whether we comprehend it or not, we stand together and offer relentless support. Our partnership is in tact business wise and most of all, personally. Much more than Matt, they’re the brothers that I need and am grateful to actual have.

“Alright Al B Sure, I’m heading out. I got a little something something happening tonight, so I need to go and get ready.”

“A date? Who’s torturing themselves by allowing you to take them to Chuckie Cheese?” We snickered at my response and he stuck up his middle finger immediately after.

“She’s a paralegal from the office.”

“You’re screwing your paralegal? That’s scandalous.”

“Says the man who’s attracted to his flight attendant. Besides, she’s not my paralegal and we don’t work on the same floor. Also, I’m not screwing her.”

“I’m not attracted to my flight attendant.” He whipped his head around in a dramatic fashion and offered me the most blank expression he could muster up on his face. He continued to stare as I raised an eyebrow at him and he slightly dropped his head to the side and awaited a moment of truth from me.

“Man, Stevie Wonder can see that you’re attracted to that woman. Are you forgetting that I was there that night at the club? I watched how you looked at the monitors, following her every move. I saw the body language between the two of you, mostly from you, at you stood there damn near whispering in her ear about God knows what, because you’re never going to tell me. Lastly, I saw you flinch while you watched another man approach her and offer to buy her a drink.”

“You did not see me flinch. Do you ever stop exaggerating?”

“You flinched. I know what I saw. Lie if it makes you feel better.”

“I don’t lie.”

“Well, you just told one. You flinched. I’m out of here. We’re balling as soon as you come back from Paris. It’s interesting that you’re going to the City Of Love with…” Before he could finish the statement, I pushed him in the direction of my apartment’s door and pointed at it.

“Be gone man.”

“Enjoy yourself. Have a safe flight and overall trip as well. I want to hear all about it when you return.” I couldn’t contain my laughter at the smirk on his face. I won’t be telling him anything. There will be nothing to tell. By the time I finish giving him a run down of the couple of days I’ll be there, he will have interrupted me half way with a rolling of his eyes and a onslaught of phrases describing how boring I am.

“Yeah, okay. See you at the court when I get back. Bring your broken ankles.”

“Kiss my ass.” We parted with our usual handshake, and he was out of my door; slamming it in his usual fashion.

In an effort to have some genuine leisure time, I chose Netflix and eventually an order of my favorite dishes from a Chinese restaurant to consume the rest of my Sunday. The restaurant I order from is no where near the condominium I reside in but we’ve build a strong enough relationship for them to go out of their way to deliver what I prefer; of course with a nice tip. With the campaign proposal out of the way and Mike off to tend to his date, I could finally continue the Netflix series Autumn raved about. During our flight back from Miami, she praised House Of Cards for nearly a half hour. She explained just enough detail about the political drama to garner my interest and it resulted in us watching the first two episodes of season one before we landed.

House of Cards and Chinese food today. I’m going to try to binge watch the rest of season one.

I tapped the play button on the remote control and rested against the back of the chair as the text message alert sounded off within the living room.

Let me know what you think while you’re watching it. Chinese food on a Sunday? You don’t know how to cook.

I laughed at her very matter of fact statement and nodded my head. It is kind of pathetic to be having Chinese food on a Sunday but I’d take that over my other option any day.

Correct. I can’t. I know how to make survival meals and that's where it starts and ends for me.

In college, I survived off of Ramen noodles, fast food, and occasional trips to the cafeteria. Every so often, if she could catch me, my mother would drop off groceries and Tubber Wear bowls filled with whatever she cooked over the course of the week. Friends enjoy it far more than I did. If I wasn’t buried in the books, I was in lectures halls or over at A&M learning the ropes of the company from Richard and Matt.

Survival meals? Ramen, Chef Boyardee, turkey sandwiches?

All of that. I snickered at the thought of the Oscar Mayer smoked turkey deli meat sitting on the top shelf in the fridge right now. As I tapped the message box to reply, the knock at the door halted me. Fredrick would show up out of no where and interrupt this whole entire process. It’s his style. He’s the only person I know who can easily find something wild to get into on a Sunday afternoon. With the weather being warmer, I’m sure there’s some rooftop party or outdoor brunch that he knows about. Actually, knowing him, he’d want to sail up the Hudson on a self thrown booze cruise.

“What do you want man?”

I quickly opened up the door only to be met with a face that wasn’t owned by the debonair that is my best friend. As I shifted my weight to my right foot, my mother slowly removed her cat eye style sunglasses to reveal the gleam in her eyes. They matched the smile on the lower half of her rosy face. A small sigh slipped past her lips at the sight of me and she immediately used the tips of her toes to plant a wet kiss on my cheek.

“I’ve missed you my son. Look at you. I swear you take on more and more of your grandfather’s looks everyday.”

“What are you doing here mom?” Without any regard, she slipped past my frame and entered my apartment. She halted midway through and took in the place; looking for something to either criticize or compliment.

“Well, you don’t come to me for Sunday dinner, so I’m coming to you. I have some groceries here and I’m going to make you a meal.” I stopped myself from rolling my eyes by glanced down at the floor and I nearly cursed under my breath as I listened to the sound of heels prancing across the marble flooring. My second option on Sundays is to subject myself to having dinner with my exhausting family. With every swallow of the sub par meal she prepared, I’d be tormented with their questioning, unnecessary commentary, and an argument as the finale. We’ve shared occasional peaceful moments but the bad outweighed the good by a landslide win.

“You don’t have to do that. What’s Richard, Matthew, and Camille going to have? They eat at your house every Sunday.”

“I already cooked at the house and they’re more than welcome to stop by and have what they like. Today, I’m going to make a meal for my youngest boy and figure out what the hell is going on in his life since he doesn’t bother to contact or visit me.” Her tone softened at the conclusion of her statement and I didn’t feel the slightest bit of guilt about what she said. Though she may play the oblivious role, she knows and understands what our relationship has been through and why it’s in the weakened state that it is now. There’s no need to pretend.

“There’s nothing going on in my life that you don’t already know about.”

“Nonsense. I’m going to make a vegetable lasagna. Is that alright?” I shrugged. No matter what I say or do, she isn’t going anywhere and I’d rather allow her to make the lasagna than to argue.

“That’s fine.”

In her usual fashion, she covered the island and the counter top near the stove with all of the ingredient needed to create her meatless baked pasta and finally glanced over at the black Beats Pill bluetooth speaker.

“Can you hook my phone up to that thing? I don’t know how your father does it but I’m sure you get it. Bluetooth it is?” Her thick England accent filled my ears and I grabbed the space grey iPhone off the table and tapped in the all too familiar numerical password; she and Richard’s wedding anniversary. Rather than asking her what she’d like to listen to, I opened up the Spotify app and turned on Elton John’s greatest hits. I’ve heard enough of his music over the years to be able to embarrassingly mumble the words whenever it plays.

“So how’s work?”

“You’re really doing this right now?” With a roll of my eyes, I leaned against the island and stared at her as she grabbed three pots off of the hooks of the stainless steel pot rack above her head.

“Doing what? Am I not allowed to ask you general questions about your life?”

“Ask Richard about work. Whatever he tells you is how it’s going.”

“I hear about about Richard’s days at work . I live with the man and I sleep next to him just about every night. He shares the details of his day with me every single day. I’m asking you and I expect an answer. This is what it’s come to? You’re giving me difficulty about a simple question? You’re far too old for that.” She glared at me and deliberately dropped the final pot she retrieved down on the counter.

“I’m not going to argue with you. This is why I always walk away in the first place.”

“Well then answer the question.”

“Work is work. I do what I have to do and I get out of there. Tomorrow afternoon I’m heading to Paris for a meeting with Cartier. I’ll be over there for a couple of days.” While leaning over the cutting board, she began to organize bell peppers, carrots, mushroom, asparagus, broccoli, and spinach.

“I remember the first time I took you to Paris. You were only three years old and my God, you developed an obsession for creme brûlée after the first spoonful of it. For the week we were there, we had to have it every single day; that and Parisian flan. I spoiled you. You had dessert more than you had actual food but it was such a good time and you were so adorable. You still are adorable but at that time you had the chubbiest cheeks and they were always so rosy. My goodness, don’t get me started on the curls and that huge smile. You were melting hearts everywhere we went. I had the pram with me but you insisted on walking. You nearly ruined the women’s section at Harrods when we were out with your dad.”

Of course she’d mention a trip to Harrods. I don’t know how much love and sexual relations could induce a woman like my mother into remaining a mistress for so many years out of her life. There had to be more and Richard’s pockets were exactly that. My maternal side of the family aren’t apart of the English working class. The elders were not factory workers or rural farmers. My great grandfather owned four factories while his wife worked as a well renowned seamstress in her own shop. My grandfather served in the British Army and achieved the rank of a four star general; the highest rank a man can achieve as a serving officer. My grandmother was a teacher. I don’t understand where my mothers sense of entitlement comes from. I’ve always heard the stories of her being spoiled rotten but I’m not sure what encouraged her to fall for Richard and his schemes. In her social life before him, I’m prone to believe she encountered plenty of men of wealth, so why him? Their relationship is why I’ve never met my grandparents. I used to believe it was because of the affair but I’ve never met them because Richard is black. They’re ashamed of her and I fall in that particular line of criticism by black blood and association.

“Yeah, I usually have both at some point while I’m there.”

“It’s a beautiful city; the most romantic city in the world. I swear I fall more and more in love with your father every time we go.” I pulled my lip in between my teeth to refrain from responding to her. The sound of the knife hitting the cutting board was far more pleasant than that particular statement.

“How are the guys?”

“Fred and Mike?”

“Well who else would I be talking about? They’re the only friends you choose to have.”

“They’re fine. Mike was here earlier and left because he had a date. Fredrick is home spending time with his girlfriend.” She glanced in my direction briefly before returning to the task in front of her.

“I look forward to the day when you’re introducing me to someone that you’re dating or in love with. Have you met anyone?” Though I continued to lean on the island, I straightened my back and shook my head at the question. I should have known that it’d transition as soon as I mentioned the words date and girlfriend. Though Stacey’s prying ways can be overbearing, there is a comedic relief to it. My mother can easily become insulting without any regard for her words or tone. After throwing my age in my face, she’ll began to point out certain aspects of my personality that may not appease women. Finally, she’ll began a endless guilt tripping session about her own age and my lack of concern for both she and Richard meeting their grandchildren before they’re six feet under the depths of the earth.

“Have I met who?”

“A woman. Have you met a woman that you’ve taken a liking to? Who else would I be speaking about? Unless there’s something that I don’t know.” I scowled at the expression on her face and glared into her inquisitive green eyes as she implied a fallacy about my sexuality. She’s no different than Richard. They’re a match made in hell.

“Are you implying that I’m gay?”

“I’m not implying anything.”

“Yes you did. I’m not in a relationship. I’m not screwing around or intruding on people’s relationships and marriages, nor am I gay. I’m not your only son. You should talk to the one you coddle so much about these grandchildren that you want so badly. He’s married. I’m starting to think that it’s not even fertility issues that Camille is having. It’s infidelity issues. Maybe if your darling son would stop screwing women at the office and within the cities that he travels to, he’d find enough time to lay down with his wife and create a child. I guess you’re not going to talk to him about that because you can relate, right? Hey! You may have a grandchild soon enough, but I’m not sure if it’ll be coming from Camille. We’ll see.”

At full force, she slammed the knife down and it immediately bounced off the wooden board and crashed onto the floor. The disdain on her face matched my own and she scolded me by shaking her head.

“You are impossible. You do this every single time we’re in the same room as one another. I am constantly putting forth the effort to salvage a relationship with my son! Do you understand how that feels? I worry about you. I think about you every minute of every day. I have to sit back and guess what’s going on in your life because you won’t talk to me. If I’m not guessing, I’m calling up Stacey or I’m asking your father what’s going on with you. It’s ridiculous to have to call up your assistant to ask her, hey, is my son okay! What do you want from me Dante? My life is already chosen. I’ve made my decisions. You cannot be mad at me for them. You lived a good life. You were too young to understand anything that was going on and by the time you were conscious of it we were a family. I just don’t understand why you’re like this. I can understand Matthew, but you?” As she ran her fingers through her loose curls, I chuckled at her despair.

“I’m sure you can understand Matthew. You’ve thrown yourself into kissing his ass and overcompensating for what you did to his family. You’re mommy dearest to him and you bust your ass everyday to keep up with the act. I was shipped off to Westminster School just so you can focus all of your precious time and attention on coddling him so he’ll love you and stop acting out. Get off my back. You don’t know me well enough. I’m over this. Throw that out and see yourself out.”

I left her in the kitchen and retreated to my bedroom before the inevitable argument could go any further. With her mind wallowing in oblivion, whatever is left of our relationship will continue to slowly burn out. I don’t hate her; I never have. I have a distaste for her lack of responsibility and avoidance of being held accountable for everything that’s happened within this family. Oddly, I can accept Richard having no remorse. He basks in being full of shit and being an arrogant asshole. He doesn’t sugarcoat his words or actions. My mother is a character and she’s one that can entertain and impress anyone but myself. When she finally looks into the mirror and understands who she truly is, what she’s done, and what it means, is when I’ll be able to deal with her on a consistent basis. Until then, I’d rather our moments together be brief and without many words.

I spent a half an hour lying across my bed before returning the kitchen. My requested was granted. She’d thrown away all that she’d been chopping up and neatly packed away the rest of the groceries she purchased inside of the cabinets and refrigerator. After a call to the Chinese restaurant, I returned to the couch and the episodes of House Of Cards that awaited me.

Frank Underwood is a cold man. How the hell could he just push the girl in front of the train like that?

I awaited her answer as I finished off the last bit of the perfectly seasoned and grilled chicken satay. After indulging on the entire season one, it was a no brainer to let season two begin streaming on my television screen.

I told you that you’d become addicted. Don’t become a couch potato, eating General’s Tso Chicken, and binging on Netflix because of me.

I snickered at the thought of it. If only I had the time to do so. Doing it today is something rare for me. I haven’t relaxed like this in ages.

If only I had the time to do it. What are you up to? How’s your Sunday?”

I pressed the pause button on the remote, while staring at my phone and awaiting her answer. Suddenly House Of Cards became an afterthought.

It was alright. I cooked dinner for my family, packed for Paris, and I’m now I’m getting ready for bed.

I glanced at the time. It hadn’t even hit ten yet and she’s already preparing to call it a night. She rubs me as more of a night owl.

Have you ever been to Paris before?

While standing up, I grabbed the empty container and sauntered towards the kitchen to dispose of it.

Nope, I’ve never been. I’ve been to London for the Olympics and that’s about it. I thought about going to Paris once the Olympics were over but it never happened.

As my temporary assistant was scheduling the trip for me, Autumn came to mind and I figured she’d give me the exact answer that she just did.

I set a day aside for sightseeing and anything else. We can make it two days, if that’s okay. Maybe we can go to Disneyland Paris or the National Museum of Natural History?

My stomach fluttered as I awaited an answer to my overeager requests. Beads of perspiration began to dance along the back of my neck, causing a ripple of chills to slithered down my back.

Or both? Can we do both?

A smile played along my lips and I nodded my head as if she could see me.

Yeah. Both sounds good. Do you always go to bed this early? Your sleeping schedule’s going to be thrown off with this trip.

Rather than returning to the couch, I hopped up on the counter and stared at the unparalleled view of New York City from my kitchen window. The view is what sold me on this place.

I do when I want to run. I usually run around six in the morning so I try to get a goodnight’s rest to be energized enough to go a mile or two.

No wonder her legs are flawless.

You run track?

When we shared a bit of information about our high school days, she never mentioned being an athlete to me. I wasn’t one either but basketball remained as a hobby of mine ever since I was a kid in the city hanging out at the Boys and Girls Club after school, even when I wasn’t supposed to.

No. I run just to clear my head. I picked up the hobby about a year ago and it works. It’s exercise and therapy all at once. Being decent at it is an added bonus.

Makes sense.

I should try that. I usually play basketball to get a work out in but running might be the move.

I barely get in the gym. Fredrick damn near drags me whenever he can. I’m naturally skinny. I’m muscular enough…I think. Either way, I don’t care for it as much as I should.

Running? Ha! Can you keep up?

I raised an eyebrow at her question. Is that a challenge?

Of course I can. Remember who has the longer legs. I’ll smoke you with no apologies.

The thought of it lingered in the back of my mind and I chuckled. I’d let her win. Her gloating would be far more entertaining than my own.

Long legs with no speed. You’re going to have to prove that at some point. I’ll race you to the Eiffel Towel or something. See you tomorrow?

As I slouched forward, my fingers lingered on the screen a bit before I typed a reply.

Yes. See you tomorrow.

I returned to my couched and allowed Kevin Spacey and Robin Wright to continue entertaining me but it’d been a waste of time. As I lay there staring at the screen, the contents of the show never reached the depth of my memory. All I could think about is tomorrow.

Hues of the sunlight peaked past the clouds and lightly casted upon the marble flooring and blackened furniture in the living room. The sound of the television ceased hours ago and it was just me, staring up at the dark ceiling and reveling in the silence of the my home. With every deep breath, came a much need release and though I couldn’t sleep, my body remained still and comforted in it’s relaxed state. I tapped my fingers along the back of my phone while pondering on the idea or rather joke I’d been contemplating in my mind for the last two hours. My reluctance and a tad bit of insecurity tap danced on my conscious but the desire to act overpowered it.

As soon as my finger tapped FaceTime video call, I swiftly sat up on the couch and turned on a lamp to brighten my surroundings. She answered me within three rings. My heart viciously thumped within my chest and my eyes slightly widened at the sight of a sweaty and heaving Autumn as she stared at her screen in an amused manner. Her long tresses were pulled back into a slick ponytail, her appealing face free of make up yet effortlessly glowing, and a pair of ear buds rested in her ears while the black wire nested along her chest and trickled down between the napes of her breast. No jacket or sweater covered the neon orange sports bra hugging her upper body.

“You interrupted Aretha Franklin.”

“I called because we’re running. You’re running and I’m on the phone, so technically we’re running.” A smirk first. Then a smile. Next a blank stare. As soon as I smirked, she slightly slouched forward and I was left with an obscure view as she cackled. Her infectious laughed left me in the same state and the harder she laughed, my own continued to heighten. I didn’t expect her to find it this funny but to say I’m glad she did would be an understatement.

“You’re so full of it for that. Really? Like….really?” My breath suddenly became caught in my throat as her face reappeared on my screen and her gleaming smile resulted in my stomach twisting into the tightest knot.

“Go ahead and run. I got my timer right here on the phone. I’m about to turn it on so I can clock your time and eventually beat you.”

“That’s never happening. What, you scared?”

“Never.”

“Alright then. Race me fair and square sir.”

“Say no more. I’ll do that and win.”

“Alright then. Prove it.”

“Where are you running at anyway?” She briefly looked around as she jogged along and she glanced at the screen.

“My neighborhood. Well, my folk’s neighborhood. I run locally. I see the same ol’ people and the same ol’ sights but it works for me. Have you slept? You wake up this early for work?”

“House of Cards kept me up.” A half lie. Well, a white lie. Technically I was up watching the show.

“Addicted. I knew it. You should sleep. I know we have a long flight later but sleep anyway. You need it. You work too hard.”

“You think so?”

“I know so. I’m going to continue feeling like a natural woman as the Queen of Soul sings it while I run along and you’re going to count some sheep. Alright? See you in the air.”

“Are you dismissing me?” I smirked as she laughed.

“Bye Dante.”

After a double beep, my screen returned to the call log and I pressed the lock button. Her boldness continued to make me laugh as I finally stood up to go and get that sleep that she suggested.

I knew tomorrow would be better.

#j. cole fanfic #j cole fanfic #j. cole fanfiction #j cole fanfiction #fanfiction #fan fiction #fanfic #rihanna fanfic #rihanna fanfiction

24 notes · View notes