#we don’t realise that this is an attempt to placate us and distract us

[baby-girl-aaron-dessner]

A reminder to my fellow Swifties:

Taylor attending a comedy show presented by an activist and collaborating with an artist who is an activist does NOT mean that Taylor is an activist.

Please stop praising her for the work of other artists. If she wanted to, she could use her huge platform to engage with important issues. Instead, she chooses not to.

[jonathanwrotethis]

D for Dog

This afternoon I have escaped the confines of the junk room for a couple of hours to visit the café where my daughters work. A break from staring at code for an hour.

After sitting down with a coffee for a few minutes, the owner’s dog - the most well mannered Labrador you can imagine - that usually dozes quietly in the corner of the café - started crying. It would appear it’s body clock had “gone off” - telling it that the owner’s other half should be appearing any time soon to take it home.

In short order the café manager appeared - and knowing I wouldn’t mind, asked if she could re-locate the dog from the corner of the café to my table - attaching it’s rope to the table leg. What followed was quite comedic, given the dog could obviously smell the half-eaten sausage roll on my table. A jump up for a fuss was in reality an expertly planned and executed reconnaissance mission - to scope out everything that might be stolen.

Thankfully I grew up with several dogs in the house, so stayed a couple of moves ahead in our game of dog / food chess. The dog eventually realised it’s attempts were futile and collapsed onto the floor to resume crying - refusing my best efforts to distract and placate.

A few minutes later the other half of the café owner arrived. Oh the excitement.

We laughed about the accuracy of animals body clocks - our cats become enormous pain in the asses when their usual feeding time rolls around - I swear they do time and motion studies to figure out the most awkward place to sit - until you feed them, then they are nowhere to be seen for several hours.

(Ten minutes pass while I check a minor detail in some source code I checked in earlier today - this happens to me quite a lot - where something occurs to me while doing something else. If I was clever I would build distraction into my daily work-flow.)

I’m aware the café shuts in about half an hour. I’ll get out of their way in a minute. I don’t want to be “that customer” that orders something messy to cook within half-an-hour of close-down.

My calendar has tomorrow marked out as a “development day”. I’ve never had one of those before. I need to find something to learn about - something to do with work obviously - something hopefully useful. Or I suppose I could use it to tidy up notes, and take a look at how I’m storing and managing them - the eternal debate between OneNote, Obsidian, and Notion (I’m tried them all before, more than once).

Just for the record - in recent days I’ve been back using a bullet journal, but wonder if it’s time has come to be consigned to history. While it has undoubted benefits in terms of mindfulness, it’s far easier to search a computer based solution.

Anyway.

Time to go.

[newtonsheffield]

On the note of your latest headcanon about Edwina, I really feel like she and Anthony should have a heart to heart at some point. So Anthony knows that Edwina really approves of Anthony, because he sees the Kate Eddie has always seen - the beautiful, brilliant, head-strong Kate people have overlooked for years. Just something for you to possibly write about. :)

Hello again! I agree that Eddie and Anthony need to have a little chat! Edwina loves Kate just as much as Kate loves her and it is my firm opinion that if that Mischievous little bee hadn’t intervened and Anthony had actually had the idiocy to propose to her, Edwina would have cackled in his face and let out a very confused “...No?” and I feel people often forget just how astute Edwina is. 

Someone else was also interested in seeing a little more of our girl, Eddie!  

Anon asked: I loved the hc from Edwina’s pov do you think you’ll do any more? Like how she views Kate and Anthony’s relationship or something? Yes! I am doing some more Edwina! And I’m glad you liked her! 

Let’s see what Edwina has to say about Anthony Bridgerton dating her sister!

Edwina Sheffield had known Anthony Bridgerton since she was a teenager. She’d sat in her dormitory at university on more than one occasion and listened, biting her lip to keep from laughing, as he begged his sister not to get arrested at a women’s rights protest.  “El, I just don’t want you to get in trouble. I’m very proud of you for standing up for your beliefs but do you think this is the best way to do it? If I have to bathe your eyes in milk one more time I swear to god, Eloise-” but Anthony had been cut off as Edwina lost her battle to contain her laughter. Anthony had spun towards her, a fairly incredulous look on his face and Edwina had said 

“You just remind me so much of my sister, I should really introduce you to Kate sometime.” And Anthony had said pointedly staring at his sister. “Well given that you’ve never been arrested, Edwina, Kate must be very sensible.” 

Of course, then he’d met her sister Kate and decided quite the opposite. Edwina had been at a charity gala for something or other that her publicist had begged her to attend when Anthony had sidled up beside her and said  “Edwina Sheffield, you’re in rather a lot of trouble.” Edwina had laughed spinning towards him a little surprised and said  “Anthony, you haven’t scared me since I was 18 and I realised that under all of this bravado, you’re just a big softie.” Anthony had huffed a little indignantly and said  “ How did you never tell me that your older sister is an absolute menace?”  Edwina had laughed still more, he curiosity to hear Anthony’s side of the story getting the better of her a little.  “And what did my menace of a sister do to you?” She said, watching Anthony carefully as he told his story,  his eyes wide with disbelief but not exactly angry, and certainly not the hatred he was trying to convey. Edwina clucked her tongue tapping her fingers against the side of her champagne glass.  “Well, I’m very glad she put my birthday gift to good use.” Anthony’s mouth dropped open in surprise and Edwina continued leaning in a little conspiratorially “And by the way, Kate told me you were an insufferable arsehole so you might want to work on that if you want to woo her.” And Edwina walked off leaving him spluttering behind her  “I don’t want to woo her!” He called out though Edwina privately thought that was exactly what he wanted. 

Anthony’s birthday party was in full swing when it happened. Colin and Eloise had been secretly topping up Anthony’s drink for hours and he was certainly more than a little buzzed. Edwina watched on laughing with Eloise as Kate swatted Anthony’s hands away, shaking her head at her boyfriend attempting valiantly to carry on her conversation with Daphne as he whispered in her ear. And then Anthony caught sight of Edwina, and his eyes widened  “Edwina Sheffield I want to talk to you!” Anthony yelled, roughly shoving his way towards her, his words slurring a little, as he flopped into the seat next to her that Eloise had just vacated. His eyes a little glazed as he stared into her eyes, Edwina bit back a laugh at her sister’s boyfriend, normally so proper, desperately trying to tell her something. “ I want to tell you something, Edwina it’s very important.” He said, nodding a little, Edwina tried to keep her voice serious as she spoke. “What is it Anthony?”  “I love your sister.” He yelled in her ear and Edwina’s heart clenched a little. Because honestly, as if she doubted it. It was as plain as the nose on his face, and the fact that he’d sought Edwina out just to say this, was... well it was really very sweet.  “I know you do, Anthony.” Edwina said smiling softly. Anthony’s eyes widened even more.  “No, Eddie, you don’t understand. I LOVE her. And I just want you, and your mum to like me because if you don’t like me, I don’t think Katie’s gonna love me anymore.” He said seriously, still slurring his words. And Edwina’s heart clenched again truly glad for her sister having found this very kind, clearly very besotted man. Before she could reassure him Anthony was distracted, bless him, by Kate’s arrival. “Oh my God, Eddie here she is, Here’s Kate! I Love Kate!” He yelled, leaping up to wrap his arms around her sister burying his face in her hair. Kate sent Edwina an apologetic look though she could barely keep the soft smile from her face as she ushered Anthony away. 

The next morning Edwina sat at the kitchen table calmly eating a bowl of cereal when Anthony shuffled out looking very much worse for wear. His hair was disheveled, his eyes a little bloodshot, moving very carefully wincing every few steps. “Well there’s sleeping beauty.” Edwina smirked, Anthony gave her what she assumed was the closest thing to a sarcastic look he could manage this morning. “Kate’s out for a run.” She explained. Anthony nodded, wincing again. “Remind me to kill Colin and Eloise when I see them next.” He said, his voice a little hoarse. Edwina chuckled,  “I’m afraid I can’t do that. You were very entertaining, I think Drunk Anthony is my idol.” She said lightly, laughing at her sister’s boyfriend as he looked wearily at her. “How bad was it?”  Edwina hummed “How bad would you say attempting to grope Kate in front of your mother was?” Anthony’s mouth fell open “To Violet’s credit she was barely ruffled.” Anthony dropped his head in his hands, groaning. Edwina bit her lip, maybe now wasn’t the best time but she might not get another chance. 

“You also had something very interesting to say about Kate to me.” Anthony’s head shot up, alarmed. Edwina continued quickly, her voice placating  “It was very sweet, don’t worry. You told me that you loved her, and maybe that you desperately wanted me and Mum to like you? Is that True?” Anthony’s eyes were wide.  “I love your sister, Eddie. And I know we haven’t been together very long but-” His voice was soft, beseeching almost and Edwina’s heart clenched at the honestly in his voice.  “Anthony,” she said cutting him off softly. “Mum and I know that you love Kate. I’m honestly not sure how you could not see it. And I’ve waited a very long time for someone to see the incredible person that Kate is. She’s so beautiful, and strong and smart, and kind. And I could not be more glad that that person is you.” Edwina couldn’t stop her voice from cracking a little as Anthony stared at her, his eyes glazing over slightly more. He cleared his throat carefully before he spoke “I think she’s the most incredible person I’ve ever met.” His voice was soft, Edwina felt a warm feeling spreading through her chest.  “I know you do. But if I’m wrong about you, and you hurt her. I’ll kill you myself, Anthony Bridgerton.” Her voice firm, Anthony’s eyes widened in surprise, he made to respond but stopped suddenly as the front door opened, Kate appearing second slater, a light sheen of sweat on her forehead, slightly out of breath. 

“Oh rise and shine honey, how’s your head?” Kate said, grinning, leaning down to kiss Anthony’s cheek. He huffed. Edwina Smirked

“I was just filling prince Charming in on his exploits last night.” She said lightly. Kate laughed again, as she made her way further into the kitchen, pouring two bowls of cereal.  “Did you get to the part where he told Francesca how much he loves shower sex? because that’s my favourite part.” Kate said, smirking, as a look of Absolute horror spread over her boyfriend’s face. 

This really went on for too long. I’m sorry         

[spencers-renaissance]

Mayhem

Summary: Imagine that scene in S4E1 when Derek is driving the ambulance loaded with a bomb about to explode, except it's Spencer on the other end of the phone and they finally get their shit together. 

Tags: canon divergence, spencer is the tech analyst, death-bed love confessions, getting together, mutual pining, insecure spencer, angst with a happy ending, fluff

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Spencer Reid

Word Count: 4.2k

Masterlist // Read on AO3

A Gift For: @habs252117 — anybody can request fics in my ask box :)

A quick recap as this follows S4E1 which is technically a follow-on from the last ep of S3:

The BAU was called to the NY field office to investigate a series of random shootings in the city, often on subways and shit. They realise that this is actually a terror cell practicing for their big attack, and as this fic starts, they believe that the shootings were all in locations they planned to bomb in order to test 911 response times. Kate Joyner is Hotch's old friend, the blonde English one from Scotland Yard and Lisa is Lisa Bartleby, the NY field office tech analyst assigned to help Penelope in the show, Spencer in the fic.

The case had been stressful enough from the beginning. Spencer doesn’t often get to join the team in the field, usually staying in his computer den back in Quantico, so he’d initially been quite excited: he’d get to spend more time with Derek, plus visit New York, which he’s always had a strange sort of affinity for, as well as see his team in action. But then he’s working with equipment that isn’t his and they slowly piece together just how complicated this terrorism ring is and things seem more… bleak rather than exciting. 

They’d all been starting to make their way back to the hotel when the news of the bombing hit the networks, and Spencer’s heart is in his mouth as he rushes back to his post, meeting Lisa Bartleby with harried nods of acknowledgement. Almost as soon as he’s settled at his desk the phone starts ringing.

“Spencer,” Rossi greets as soon as he picks up, “you’ve seen the news?”

“Yes, I— do you know where anyone is? What should I do?” he asks, feeling the panic settle on his chest, his stomach clenching in fear he doesn’t dare try and address.

“I’m here with Penelope, she’ll handle the media,” Rossi says, and Spencer realises that he can hear her low, steady voice she always employs in moments of extreme stress in the background of the call. “I need you to call homeland security and direct them to every site of the recent shootings. Tell them to pour troops in. If our profile is right we’re looking at eight suicide bombers who are about to hit every one of those locations.”

“Actually, if we’re correct, there’ll be sixteen suicide bombers,” Spencer realises with a start. “We predicted they’ll hit the second wave of first responders, too.”

Their conversation is interrupted by the news reporting that the bomb was inside a black SUV near the Federal Plaza and Spencer is pretty sure his entire body stops for a moment: cells stop replicating, blood stops flowing, hair and nails stop growing. This is his family. And he doesn’t know where any of them are, spread across an unfamiliar, dangerous city.

“Right, Spencer, do you have eyes on the Plaza?” Rossi asks, controlled urgency colouring his voice as he tries to keep himself and everyone else as calm as possible.

“Uh— yes, I’ve got like three hundred cameras there,” he says, glancing at Lisa, the NY field office’s contribution to his technological complex, as they jump into action, “give me a minute.”

“I’m here with Penelope, but I don’t know where anyone else is,” Rossi says, and for the first time Spencer can hear the panic rising in his voice. It’s quickly suppressed, but it’s there, and it does nothing to help him calm down. “Find them.”

He instructs Lisa to find every camera feed 20 blocks out concentrically from 26 Federal Plaza before fiddling with his headset, taking a deep breath, and, naturally, trying Derek first. His name has been circling round Spencer’s head like a prayer ever since they heard that it was potentially one of their own hit by the bomb, and the knot in his chest starts to unravel when he picks up the phone.

“Yeah, I’m still here,” Derek says, sounding impatient and stressed, but Spencer doesn’t mind. He’s alive. He’s okay. 

“Thank God,” Spencer breathes. He keeps him on the line while he tries Emily, who sounds just as anxious when she picks up. He doesn’t mind though, he’s keeping a tally of everyone he knows is safe and it’s the only thing making him any less panicked. When JJ doesn’t pick up, the knot tightens a little and he tries to ignore the little string of ‘no no no’s dancing through his mind. 

He hears Emily’s distressed exhale and closes his eyes for a second before forcing himself to get his head back in the game. The phone goes dead mid-JJ’s voicemail message, and then Emily drops off the call, Derek following, and that’s it. He’s lost contact with his team, JJ and Hotch still unaccounted for. Before he can actually lose his head, Lisa is calling him over, and he finally has eyes on the bombing. 

He has to watch the man he sees as a father projected through the air by the blast from the bomb, and all he can hear for a solid five seconds is the fear buzzing in the static electricity around his ear. 

⭐️

Derek arrives at the site of the explosion riled up in a way he hasn’t been for a long time, his only consolation being that he knows Spencer is safe. God, you can definitely count on working a terrorist attack in New York City to accentuate your crippling crush on a coworker; a subtle burn has settled itself across Derek’s chest, the urge to hold and protect Spencer far too distracting for the circumstances. 

He reports immediately to Captain Warner but before he’s even able to identify himself, he hears Hotch shouting desperately for help and he slips immediately into rescue mode. 

“Hey! This area’s restricted,” an ESU shouts at him, as soon as he dashes for the barrier, and he forces the blinding anger flaring in his stomach to simmer down as he turns to the Captain again. 

“That’s my boss down there,” he shouts, making himself as intimidating as possible. 

“I have my orders,” the Captain replies simply, eyes hard and unrelenting. 

“I don’t give a damn what your orders are.” He’s finding it increasingly hard to restrain his anger as he hears Hotch shout again, turning to look hopelessly down the road at him. 

“Look, I get it agent,” Warner attempts to placate him, “but we’ve been told by you that responders are the targets. So until the blast site is cleared, no-one goes in.”

Derek spins around to face him again. “You’re Marine Corps, right?” By the look on Warner’s face, he’s found his way in. “Right?”

“Please, go back to the marshaling point,” he replies, the fight draining out of him. 

“I’m not doing it,” Derek yells stubbornly, furiously. “I’m not just gonna let my man lay down there like that.” Conveniently, Hotch’s miserable call comes down the road again and Derek meets the Captain’s eyes with a hard gaze. “Never leave a man behind. You do remember that, don’t you?”

“Help us!” Hotch screams again. “We’re here! Please!”

Derek glares at the Captain, and sprints as fast as he can towards Hotch as soon as he nods his okay. His boss is clearly disoriented and in a state of obvious distress but he doesn’t look terribly injured. Kate, on the other hand, is clearly a different story, and any hope Derek has for her survival melts away as Hotch explains her arterial bleed and he has to tell him that they can’t expect an ambulance any time soon. He tries to tell the kid crouching down by Kate to leave, but he seems reluctant. 

Derek doesn’t have the headspace to analyse why until he’s finally got him to run off and Spencer’s ringing him to tell him that he’s the bomber. 

⭐️

As soon as Spencer hears Derek run off after the bomber he feels his stress levels rising again. If Derek dies before Spencer finally works up the courage to tell him that he’s in love with him, he’ll never forgive himself for being such a coward, and he’ll never forgive Derek for leaving him. 

Immediately, he patches into the marshaling point and tells the rest of them, who have only just all reunited, what’s going on. 

“The bomb,” he explains, talking as fast as he can, “it was under Kate’s SUV. Hotch is out there with her, he seems okay but Kate is really hurt; they haven’t been able to move her.”

“Where was her SUV parked?” Rossi asks as they all gather around the computer.

“Two blocks east of Federal Plaza.”

“Two blocks east and they target Kate’s SUV?” He sounds incredulous. “Have you identified the bomber?”

“Lisa’s running him through VICAP,” he says, but shrugs hopelessly. He knows it’s a lost cause.

“Call Homeland Security,” Rossi instructs Penelope. “They should be at all the murder sites. See if they found anything.” She nods and stalks away on her heels, still managing to stay cool under pressure. Spencer would envy her, but he knows it’s only an external front, only a mask she has to wear out of complete and utter necessity.

“Okay, okay, but Morgan,” Spencer says, feeling more impatient and stressed than before, “he’s run after the bomber.”

“He’s run after the bomber?” JJ asks, bewildered. “Why?”

“He was at the bomb site,” he replies. “I’m trying to trace him on the city's CCTV network, but the feeds are grainy at best and completely severed at worst.” This is feeling more and more hopeless by the second, and the light at the end of the tunnel is only dimming. 

“Keep trying,” Rossi says, and then he’s turning to the rest of the team. 

Spencer takes a few calming breaths and focuses back on the computer in front of him. Find Derek, he thinks. Find Derek and, when this case is over, stop being a coward and tell him how hopelessly in love with him you are. The pool of dread and fear weighing his stomach down only seems to deepen as he searches relentlessly through the CCTV feeds he can access, looking for Derek and the bomber chasing through the streets of the city. Eventually, he finds him and follows his movements down to the subway station. He watches with baited breath as Derek looks around the empty platform, clearly shouting to the unsub, though Spencer can’t hear what he’s saying. He speeds up the feed, seeing as it’s delayed slightly and fast forwards to Derek entering the tunnel, his sense of dread only intensifying as he loses visual. 

Trying desperately not to panic, he fast-forwards until he’s watching in real time, but Derek still hasn’t emerged, and neither has the bomber, both still hiding in the secrecy of the depths of the city’s transport network. There’s a vague spark of light — which he later finds out was the bomber electrocuting himself on an exposed part of the railway — only barely visible on the poor quality of the camera feed, before Derek emerges, looking rattled but very much alive. 

He doesn’t have much time to celebrate Derek’s livelihood, however, because JJ and Penelope are patching him back through to their conversation. 

“Spencer, Homeland Security has poured tactical teams into all the locations on the geo-profile — SWAT, bomb techs, HRT, hazmat, the works — they found nothing,” Penelope says, clearly puzzled and frustrated.

JJ’s about to reply when something catches her eye. “Yeah, all except one,” she says. “Kate’s SUV — none of the shootings were near it.”

“Maybe it’s personal,” Penelope muses. “I mean, this death card they gave us; they delivered on it.”

“No,” Spencer jumps in, realising what JJ’s getting at, “that’s just it — they haven’t. A cell as large as this one and multiple targets to choose from, they target a single SUV?”

“It’s a diversion,” JJ says, “Everything that’s happened so far has appeared to be something it’s not. The seemingly random acts of violence, Emily’s suicide by cop to make us believe it’s all over. Hotch and Kate as an endgame; they want us to think this is over. They’ve deliberately skewed our profile to make us believe they would be at the sites of the shooting.”

“You’re right. That was memorable” Rossi says, finally chiming in as he gestures to a picture of the twin towers on the wall. “This is not. There’s something else.”

⭐️

As soon as Derek manages to calm Hotch down, he summons the rest of the team to St Barclay’s and for the first time since the bomb went off under Kate’s SUV, the team is back together again.

“Are you okay?” Emily asks Hotch as soon as the team walks into the hospital. He’s scratched and bruised all over, visibly shaken, and clearly in a lot of pain but, Hotch being Hotch, he’s stubbornly refusing to accept the necessary medical attention and probably just wants to see the back of this whole ordeal, not unlike the rest of them. 

“I’m fine,” he says, clearly not fine at all but shouldering his jacket on anyway. “I just want to understand why I’m still alive. Did you identify Sam, the bomber?”

“Spencer put Sam and the other dead unsub into every known database,” Penelope offers. “Nothing.” At the mention of Spencer, Derek feels his heart clench in his chest. God, Spencer’s intelligence is so attractive to him, even though he knows it’s something his pretty boy can be so unreasonably insecure about it. He can’t wait to see the end of this night and touch him, reassure his aching, restless heart that he’s safe, alive, protected. 

Once again, he thinks cynically, nothing like a terrorist attack to leave him on the brink of finally telling Spencer how he feels. 

They quickly get back on topic, deducing as a team the terror cell’s real endgame: they’ll use a single chemical bomb planted in the ambulance. If Sam wasn’t calling 911 every few minutes but a number that went dead minutes after he died, then there’s only one reason he stayed with Hotch and Kate. To make sure the ambulance got to them. The ambulance they drove into a hospital, with the paramedic’s help, housing someone important enough to have the Secret Service protecting them. 

Derek doesn’t think. He runs. 

“Spencer?” he says, into his ear piece as he runs down the stairs, refusing to let fear come to the surface. “I need you to jam the frequencies in this cell block for as long as possible, okay?”

“What’s going on?” Spencer asks, clearly concerned, but Derek can hear him already tapping away at his computer.

“Just,” Derek pauses, takes a second to feel, process, and then suppress his panic, “just… I need you to do this for me, alright, pretty boy.”

“I’m already on it.” Spencer sounds exactly he does: carefully, artificially calm. He runs down the last few flights of stairs and into the parking garage, locating the ambulance before he hears Spencer again. “Morgan?” 

“Yeah, baby,” he says, panting half from the exertion of sprinting down far too many flights of stairs and partly from the pressure of the situation settling on his chest — the stakes actually registering for the first time. 

“You sound stressed,” Spencer says, deliberate and light. “Where are you?”

“Not where I want to be right now,” Derek replies, a little self-deprecatingly. Really, it’s just deflection; a last ditch attempt at avoidance of the likelihood he dies tonight. “Reid, take this down for me: FDNY 108.”

“That’s an ambulance, are you okay?” His voice is quick and rises ever so slightly in pitch. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just track it for me.” Tentatively, he opens the door to the ambulance, heart sinking and blood pressure rising as soon as he clocks the monumental bomb stowed neatly in the trunk of the seat. “Reid, how long can you keep jamming the cell block?” He knows he’s sounding breathless now and he knows Spencer is probably panicking, unable to know what’s going on but clearly reading enough of the situation to understand that asking would be decidedly unhelpful right now. 

“Uh, maximum of a few minutes, Morgan,” Spencer replies. “Why?”

“I’m going to have to get this ambulance out of here.” This is it. The culmination. 

“Or you could just evacuate the building like everyone else,” Spencer says urgently, sounding outraged at the idea. 

Derek cringes at the disapproval, but he doesn't have a choice. “No, as soon as the airwaves are clear, this thing’s going up.”

“Going up?” Spencer doesn’t bother concealing the outright panic in his voice anymore. “That’s like… in three minutes, that’s when the satellite moves position.”

“Reid, listen to me,” Derek says, climbing into the cab of the ambulance and beginning to fiddle with the wiring. “I need you to find me an area of town I can drive this thing, and you tell everybody, you hear me, everybody that I’m coming.” He finally gets the engine to start and begins to drive out of the garage. “Alright. Talk to me, Reid.” He prays desperately that they get this right, that Spencer helps him, that they manage to subvert this terrorist attack. 

“Okay,” Spencer says, back to his measured, calm tone of voice, and Derek sighs in relief at the sound. “Okay, head north… and floor it. I’ll tell you where to turn.” He’s almost out of the garage when the ‘paramedic’ starts shooting at the back of the ambulance, screaming in rage as Derek manages to escape both van and bomb unscathed. “What was that?”

“It was nothing,” Derek shouts, heart pounding in his ears as he turns the sirens and lights on, stepping on the gas as he heads north, “it was nothing. Just… talk to me. How am I doing, Reid?”

Derek hears Spencer ask Lisa for an update before exhaling hard. “1 minute, 50 seconds,” he replies, despair spilling into his voice. “Why does it always have to be you? Why do you always have to do this?” His stomach clenches at the sound of Spencer on the edge of tears and feels himself tearing up in response, swallowing his grief in lieu of actually replying. “Derek, you don’t have much time. Please be smart about this. Signal’s coming back on line, there’s thirty seconds until full coverage.”

Derek’s never driven so fast, his hands pinching at the steering wheel and every muscle tensed. He tries very hard not to think about the fact that there’s a bomb only a metre behind him, set to explode in less than half a minute.

“Derek, drive to the opening and then get the hell out,” Spencer says, no constraint to his emotion at this point, he’s almost shouting down the phone, very clearly crying, now. 

He swallows. He has no choice; he has to tell him. “Spencer,” he says, nearly choked off by a sob, “there’s something I really want you to know.”

“Save it,” Spencer shouts. “Just get out!”

“No, you know what Reid? If I don’t make it out of this alive, I need you to know that I love you, alright?” he says, finally confessing to the secret he’s been holding close to his chest for so long, but as soon as the words are out of his mouth, he’s throwing himself out of the ambulance and running as fast as he can away from it, still not outrunning the blast picking him up and tossing him across the field. 

Slowly, getting back to his feet, he turns to face the fire as he catches his breath. He has no idea how he’s still alive. 

Fiddling with his earpiece, he tunes back into Spencer’s line to hear him crying on the other end. “Oh, God, Derek, I love you, too,” he sobs as soon as he hears Derek click back into the call.

“Spencer, I’ll tell you what you are to me,” he says, relief and warmth and love blooming across his chest, driving out the crippling fear and panic previously rooted there, “you’re my God-given solace. Baby, you promise me one thing… whatever happens, don’t you ever stop talking to me.”

Spencer laughs wetly, and it’s the most beautiful sound Derek’s heard so far. “I’m so mad at you, right now,” he says, but his happiness is written across every word, “I’m so angry. But… I love you, too.”

Derek laughs, too, the relief of being both alive and loved by Spencer almost euphoric as he walks away from the still blazing ambulance. He guesses he has a terror cell’s failed attack to thank for his long overdue admittance of his love for Dr Spencer Reid, and the frankly wonderful news that it’s actually reciprocated.

⭐️

Derek and Hotch arrive back at Quantico 12 hours after everyone else, having driven home instead of taking the jet with the others due to Hotch’s rather inconvenient ear trauma. That only gives Spencer more time to panic over seeing him for the first time since their deathbed love confessions; they’d spoken briefly on the phone the morning before Derek and Hotch set off, promising to talk about it in person as soon as he was home, and now he nearly was.

Penelope had made a beeline for Spencer as soon as the others had arrived and taken him out for coffee, despite their mutual exhaustion. She’d deduced the situation based on Spencer’s incredibly cryptic HELP. IT HAPPENED. text message almost immediately after the explosion, having been the only one Spencer had confided in about his feelings for Derek. No matter how much she promised him Derek felt the same, he refused to do anything about it, leaving her to watch her two favourite people pine miserably for one another, and actively choosing to remain in said misery instead of confessing and being happy. 

He now actually felt bad for her. 

“Just tell him what you want,” Penelope says over the top of her latte, croissant crumbs littering the table in between them. “You want to get married and have lots of babies with him.”

“Okay, first of all,” Spencer says, fixing her with a look, “you know that neither of those things are true. And, secondly, it’s not that simple. What if he isn’t looking for a relationship or anything? Why hasn’t he said something before now?”

To her credit, Penelope avoids slamming her head into the table in frustration despite how much he looks like she wants to. “Spencer,” Penelope says, levelling a look right back at him, “Derek thought he was about to die. And in that moment, all he felt like he needed was to be sure that you knew he loves you. How could you possibly be that in love with someone and not crave a relationship with them?”

Spencer finds it hard to argue against that. 

Derek reclines on Spencer’s sofa, comfortably surveying the organised chaos of his living room, while Spencer tries to gather the snacks and drinks as calmly as possible in the kitchen, finding it much harder to assume the seemingly unaffected air Derek pulls off so easily. He walks back to where he’s sitting, and he almost drops his only slightly wobbly tray at the blinding smile Derek sends his way. 

“Oh, pretty boy, you’re spoiling me,” he teases, sitting upright and leaning forward to survey the snacks Spencer had rushed out and bought earlier that afternoon. Naturally, he blushes immediately at the compliment and sits next to him on the sofa, grabbing a drink for something to do with his hands. 

“Well, if all it takes is some cheese puffs from Walmart to make you happy then I think this is going to be alright,” Spencer says, trying for cool, calm, and collected and hitting somewhere near nervous and frenzied instead.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Derek scoffs as he breaks off a piece of chocolate and takes a bite. “I’m here for you, not the refreshments, luxurious as they might be. I don’t remember confessing my love to snack food in the moment I thought I was going to die.” He ruffles Spencer’s hair as his face heats up even more, smiling bashfully over at him. 

“No,” Spencer agrees, feeling all warm inside, “you told me.”

Derek looks serious all of a sudden. “I did,” he nods, leaning forward to put the chocolate down on the tray so he can focus all his attention on Spencer, taking his hands in his own, “and I meant it. I’ve probably been in love with you since you joined the team, Spencer, but I realised it properly last year, and I was always too scared to say anything. I’m sorry it had to be in that moment, and I’m even more sorry that if I’d died you would have had to live with that for the rest of your life.” He pauses and looks down at his lap for a moment. “That was unforgivable.”

Spencer smiles at him, gripping Derek’s fingers a little tighter. “I’m not mad about any of that, Derek,” he says, “I’m just glad it finally happened. And so is Penelope, apparently. She’s been telling me you loved me back for years but I never believed her; I didn’t think this would ever happen.”

Derek chuckles fondly at that and brings his hand to Spencer’s cheek, brushing his fingers across the warm skin for just a moment, but Spencer can’t help but lean into his touch, eyelids fluttering half-closed as they meet in such an intimate manner. “So, pretty boy,” he says, smile warm and eyes bright, “shall we give this a go?”

Spencer looks back up at Derek and takes a second to let the moment he’d daydreamed about for so long sink in, let himself marinate in the love that Derek has for him. “Yes,” he replies. “Please.” And then Derek’s lips are on his own, his hands around his face, and the future’s never looked so bright.

taglist: @strippersenseii @criminalmindsvibez @drinkingcroissants

Just a note: a lot of the dialogue was stolen directly from the episode and Derek & Spencer's conversation on the phone is almost an exact transcript; it's from my notes though so it may not be perfect. It also follows the case very closely and none of that is mine. 

[crimsonandcloverwrites]

ok bhah ch1 reread thought dump lets goooo

@youngbloodbuzz  @romanitwontletmetagyouuuu??? thank u for writing this. in return I gift u this lightly unhinged commentary

oh the opening quote “Do you think it all meant nothing, all the longing? The longing for home?” violence

lmao ok I started this ages ago and then got distracted for a week because that’s just who I am as a person lets try that again

eddie n his glowing glasses nice we love a canon nod

ok I remember getting really emotional reading the chapter where Dani’s car died bc of what it represented to her n now I’m being reminded of it all again with the ‘poor little car’ comment oh dear we’re like 2 paragraphs in and I’m already compromised

the wavering reflection in the water in her hands..... Dani posessed by the ghost of comphet..... I am Drawing Conclusions

eddie “we can hang out more” dani “aha wouldn’t that be neat”

god the prom photo... remembering Dani’s meltdown at the prom bc she missed Jamie... I’m dying Jack I’m dying

lil palm kiss... I know u will not ever love hm that way Dani but fuck I’m a sucker for a palm kiss

lil nerd ass w her folder tabs I love her

god the tone of this is so comforting like I can just hang out n imagine each scene progressing so naturally. wish I did not have to suffer emotionally at the same time but at least it’s a smooth read

Dani feeling like an invader amongst all the physical representations of her relationship w eddie BABY U DON’T HAVE TO LIVE THIS WAY STOP LETTING OTHER PEOPLE INFLUENCE UR LIFE AND RUIN UR HAPPINESS

“Hannah Grose, seamlessly elegant” yes

Hannah: congrats on ur engagement. Dani, with tears in her eyes: thank

Dani relaxing when they’re talking about teaching pls I love her love for it so much

Dani at the blackboard with the “Miss, Ms?” confusion now I am thinking about the Ted Moseby professor/proffessor scene. HIMYM my beloved

mikeyyyy my boy

the image of Dani w chalk dust on her skirt is v endearing.

oooh the library trip gay foreshadowing yes

wait the silver stars on his backpack......... cup of stars crying time

Mikey correcting her on his name when she was the one to give him the nickname in the first place... feeling some kind of way

Dani fostering the talents she sees in her kids is so sweet and mikey shy lil math genuis is also so sweet pls i love this duo

i do wonder if part of her is like I know a Mikey Taylor but I literally refuse to believe it is the same one bc his sister broke my heart and we are absolutely not in the business of confronting hard feelings in this house!!

keys on a lanyard... ok lesbian

“You’re still here?” the love I have for canon lines being used when I can hear them being said in my head

awww bonding over Wonder Woman. cute!!!! When Dani becomes Mikey’s official second mum (everyone be quiet I am manifesting) my heart will explode

eddie ur really just gonna rock up and toot at her. jail for 1000 years

ooohhh Dani is Realising who the sister is. honey you got a big storm comin. oof (the ‘wonder woman punching stars out of her foes” to “dani feeling like she’s just recieved a blow to the ribs.” the cinnamontography). aw baby :(

“Jamie. Jamie, here. Jamie, home.” please i am thinking about her last letter and I am not strong enough

“Somehow Eddie didn’t notice.” sum up a relationship in a sentence

“Jamie would appear, as if summoned by the gravity of Dani’s pounding heart” fuck this hits on so many levels I need to go think about my life for 45mins

CARSON MY BOY. in his studded leather. a fashionable gay never loses.

I looove how soft n caring Dani n Carson are with each other thank gods she has him.

DID WE EVER FIND OUT WHAT HAPPENED BETWEEN CARSON AND JASON MY SPIDEY SENSES ARE STILL TINGLING FROM READING THIS THE FIRST TIME

god this post is already so long n I’m only halfway through why do I have so many silly thoughts

god just the... expectations of affection from her by eddie w that placating cheek kiss she gives him is like... I cannot imagine Jamie ever asking that from her in the same way even when they are in a relationship!!! and it’s not even wrong of him to do that??? but it’s just a lot to think about the kind of person Dani makes herself to be to stay with him vs the kind of person Jamie lets her be by not expecting anything of her. they’re such opposites

dani not even feeling at home in her own (former) home pls when is she going to find a soft place to land (it’s also making me think v hard about the title like... the haunting of Dani and Jamie’s relationship (and what that represents for Dani) on Dani’s whole life and Jamie coming home and bringing that to Dani’s doorstep. resurecting a ghost so to speak........ too many homes to think about. I don’t know if I fully understand but I am Thinking)

dani and her inhaler... asthmatic bitches represent

oh my god not the box of memories. been trying to erase that from my own for weeks now let me live

ooh the line about her feeling like an archaeologist at the start of this section and then her ‘exhuming the past’ w the photos of her n Jamie i love a consistent narrative.

THE MIXTAPE. THE MIXTAPE. is there a playlist for this chapter I would like to take that aural journey

oh no i cannot remember where the flower comes from but aahhh this box of memories pain.

this description of carson in a tight white undershirt tucked into his jeans makes me think of freddie mercury. didn’t mean to make you cry etc

lmao Dani trying to get info from Judy abt Jamie in a roundabout way... international superspy she is not

Dani entirely uncomfy in church... i feel it. godd the repression of it all w the movie and the feelings and the Jamie-influence on the feelings my heart hurts.

God knowing how much Judy loves her but the weight of that love also stifling her... pain

they’ve really got her all shacked up w a house and a husband and a kid on the way can we let the girl be a lesbian in peace (also lowkey hoping Dani gets some time on her own at some point no Eddie no Jamie no weight of expectations pls she needs it we all need it)

the thread of Dani refusing to do things for herself in order to make other people happy throughout this entire piece hits so fucking close to home and is entirely heartbreaking to read thank you

jamiiiiieeeeeeeee

Jamie: appears. Dani: every single emotion all at once

Judy and her girls back together is v sweet even if Dani is dying inside at it all

“Jamie only had eyes for Dani.” Again, sum up a relationship in a sentence.

What do you even say to a girl who *the sky goes dark as i attempt to even summarise a fraction of their relationship*. Apparently the answer is “Jamie. Hi.”

TWO MONTHS JAMIE TAYLOR. CRIMES

It’s ahh. fairly entertaining to be going through Dani’s emotional journey alongside her and knowing that Jamie is also Going Through It on some level but having 0 insights to it bc she keeps her emotions so in check.

oooh how much of a gut punch is this engagement revelation for Jamie??? like on some level I’m sure she always knew this was coming but I’m sure another part of her still desperately hoped one day Dani would choose her. god I would kill for Jamie’s POV in this scene

Jamie’s scarrrr. Literally Dani’s impact

oh fucking hell that moment of like... familiarity and almost a coming home for Dani when Judy is talking and she meets Jamie’s eyes... she really was entirely screwed from that moment on huh.

oof god this is a hell of an opening chapter lets see if my attention span will let me continue this journey (also @ myself reminder to read this all in chronological order one day for a real nice session of emotional destruction)

[authorbarbie]

Movement

Summary: Poe interrupts your Jedi training session to teach a little lesson of his own.

Your lightsaber swung through the air in a series of practised motions, the familiar hum permeating the silence along with your controlled breaths. A light sheen of sweat coated the back of your neck, matting the loose strands of hair that had managed to escape your braid to your skin. With a grunt of exertion, you turned your body into the next swing, stopping the bright blade short just before it could cut through your intended target— an old, beaten up punching bag.

As you breathed heavily and quickly considered your next move, your thoughts were cut short by the sound of loud applause. You deactivated your saber at the noise, straightening up and turning towards the source.

"Thought I'd find you here." Poe stood at the entrance of the Resistance's training area — clearly ready to workout himself for he was dressed in plain sweats and a raggedy, sleeveless shirt —, a bottle of water tucked safely under his arm to free up his hands.

"How?"

"It's raining outside. You hate training in the rain." A charming grin lit up his face, his eyes swimming with mirth. "Please, don't stop on my account."

"I wouldn't have if you hadn't interrupted," you said, wiping a bead of sweat from your brow and taking the interference as a chance to take a sip from your own water.

"Oof," Poe stumbled back as if wounded, a hand pressed to his chest. "I forgot how brazen you get when you’re in the zone."

You rolled your eyes in response, fighting hard to keep the smile from your face. Poe clearly took note as his own grin only widened. He walked over to the benches that lined the wall of the room, setting his things down next to your own and pulling a roll of boxing wrap from his pocket.

“You wanna go a few rounds?" he asked, nodding towards his hands which he was currently securing with a complicated pattern of wrap.

"I think I'll stick with this for now," you shrugged, lifting your lightsaber's hilt for reference. Poe hummed noncommittally and you squinted your eyes in suspicion. "What was that?"

"What was what?" he asked, innocently.

"That little 'hm'," you told him, lowering your voice to mimic the noise he'd made.

Poe let out a short, surprised laugh as he finished wrapping his hands up. "It was nothing, sweetheart... I just think you could stand to do a little hand-to-hand every now and then. You might be getting rusty."

"Why would I need that when I have my saber?"

"Because you might not have it all the time," he stated simply. "What if... I don't know, something happens and it breaks? Or you're just not able to use it for whatever reason?"

"I'm trained in other weapons, too," you argued. "And the Force is—"

"Always with you, I know," Poe's eyes rolled teasingly. "Just humour me."

"Well... What do you want me to do?"

"Look, you know I love when you get all"— Poe mimed holding a lightsaber and began to swing back and forth as he had seen you do so many times, making whooshing noises for extra impact— "hot Jedi and everything. But I'd feel a hell of a lot better if I knew you kept your other skills sharp."

You blinked. "Did you just call me hot?"

Poe sighed and placed his hands on his hips. "You're missing the point."

"I like this new point better," you joked and Poe fixed you with an unimpressed look in return. “Well, have you brought these same concerns to Rey?”

"Rey is... Rey," he said, haltingly.

"An astute observation," was your flat response.

"You know what I mean," he huffed, raising a hand to trail it through his hair in frustration and causing a curl to fall over his eyes. Your hand twitched as you fought the urge to reach out and brush it back. "Rey is my friend and I care for her, but you're, y'know... you."

Your heart sped up at the implication of his words, almost making it difficult for you to focus. Clearing your throat, you glanced around the room so that you could gather your thoughts. "Fine." Your eyes met his again. "You want to spar? Let's go."

"How long has it been since you last trained without your... Force-ness?"

Snorting back a proper laugh, you gave a slight shrug of the shoulder. "I don't know... Guess it's been a while."

There was a short pause as Poe considered his options. "Maybe we should practice technique first."

●  ●  ●

And that was how you ended up back in front of the punching bag, reluctantly sans your saber, with your hands tightly but messily wrapped in boxing tape; Poe had offered to help but you had gently slapped his hand away and insisted you could do it yourself. It was only after realising that you had forgotten entirely how to apply the wrap properly that you resorted to sneaking subtle glances at Poe's hands in an attempt to replicate his.

"Okay," Poe said, standing to the side with his arms crossed. "Show me how you punch."

You held back the retort of 'On the bag or on you?' and instead followed his instructions, curling your hand into a fist and giving it your best shot. The bag swung back from the impact and Poe reached out to steady it.

"Not bad," he said in a tone that implied the complete opposite. He must have noticed the slight furrowing of your brows for he was quick to placate you. "Hey, I mean it. You've certainly got the strength down. There's just a few things you need to fix."

"Like what?"

"Well, the bag shouldn't really swing after you hit it," he said, moving closer to the bag. You took the hint, stepping out of the way to give him enough space. "You gotta hit the bag, don't push it. When you do a push punch, you're basically just trying to shove your hand through the target. Watch."

Poe's hand shot forward to hit the bag. Sure enough, it swung back wildly as it had with you and he reached out to bring it back into position again.

"Now, a snap punch means letting your fist snap back to you after you strike, to minimise how long you stay in your target's space. The whole reason it snaps back is because you let the impact rebound your hand back to you, not because you pull it away yourself. It shouldn't move the bag as much, and it helps you punch harder and faster, while using way less energy."

In a flourish, he struck the bag again, causing it to jump in place but not swing. His hand was back in position before you could blink.

You nodded slowly. "I... think I get it?"

"Go ahead."

Taking a breath, you retook your spot in front of the bag once more. You shook your hands out for a moment before they curled back into fists and your dominant hand snapped forward to hit the bag.

"That's it!" Poe smiled proudly as he watched the bag stay in place.

"Thanks," you smiled bashfully and tucked a loose strand of hair out of your face.

"Another pointer is that you should stand far enough away that you can't reach the bag without rotating your hips, but you also have to stand close enough to the bag so, if you do rotate your hips, you're still able to hit it."

"Uh," you began, hesitantly. "Say that again?"

Poe chuckled and held up his hands. "Sorry, I'm probably going too fast."

"No," you told him with a shake of your head, "it's not that. It's just... How am I able to study so many complicated Jedi texts but I can't even keep up with how to punch something properly?"

"Hey, you're doing great. It's a lot to remember," he said earnestly. "So let's try it a different way."

Your shoulders tensed slightly when he moved to stand behind you, so close that you could feel his breath on the back of your neck. Tentatively, you forced yourself to relax and readjusted your position into what you thought Poe wanted.

"Almost," Poe said, gently knocking your feet further apart with his own. "Stand with your legs shoulder-width apart and bend your knees a little; it'll help your balance... Yeah, that's good."

You nodded. "Okay. Now what?"

"Now move your arms in just a little." He reached out, placing a hand on each of your arms and pushing them in gently. "Alright, you ready to go back to what I was saying before?"

"I think so."

"Okay. The full punch motion comes from turning your hips, right? When you start the punch, try pivoting your back foot on its ball and push your body forward," Poe's hand came to rest on the shoulder of your dominant arm and the other moved to your opposite hip. You swallowed hard at the contact but tried to stay focused. "You don’t want to exaggerate and throw yourself off balance, but you should feel your lower body pushing your arm forward. When you push off your foot, turn your hips and extend your arm towards the target." He gently pushed back on your hip while simultaneously pushing your shoulder forward to give you an idea of what he meant.

Although you were trying your very best to stay on goal, it was getting harder and harder which each second he spent so close to you. The familiar smell of engine oil and aftershave mixed with the warmth of his skin on yours was overwhelming your senses. You just barely managed to catch the end of his explanation before he could realise you had become distracted.

"Also, don’t overextend into the punch," he'd been saying. "You want to feel in control and balanced at all times. If you fall forward, you’ll put yourself in a vulnerable position."

His hands released you as he stepped out of your way, allowing you to put his instructions into practise. You took all of his words into account, attempting the aforementioned snap punch again, but while shifting your weight onto your dominant foot and turning your hips into the swing. The grin that took over his lips when you were successful made your stomach flutter.

Poe had you practise the same motion over and over (with some minor variations and adjustments) for around an extra half hour before he decided you had done enough. "Okay, I think it's safe to say you've got that down. You ready for that sparring session now?"

"Uh," you heaved out a deep breath, fresh sweat coating your skin. "Totally."

"Take a minute to catch your breath first," Poe chuckled, taking one of your hands in his hold and fixing the boxing wrap that you had barely noticed had begun to loosen. As he worked swiftly and gently, you suddenly decided that sparring sounded like a great idea if it meant his hands wouldn't be touching you in such tender ways that made your thoughts jumble and your chest tighten oddly.

All too soon, you found yourself facing him on a floor of safety mats, one of you looking significantly more relaxed than the other.

"Don't look so nervous," Poe told you, giving your arm a playful shove. "I won't hurt you, little miss Jedi."

You decided in that split second to use his arrogance against him and your hand was soon springing forward, aiming for somewhere on his stomach. Somehow, he had anticipated your move and his arm quickly shot up to block you, his brow quirking challengingly. An unspoken agreement passed between you then and before you knew it, the two of you were trading blows; weak enough so as to not actually hurt one another but strong enough to still be able to determine a winner.

On more than one occasion, Poe had come less than a hair's breadth away from knocking you off balance which only served to spur him on further, and you were well aware that you were close to losing. So you chose to do something you knew Poe couldn't.

The next time his hand came close to making contact, you let the Force flow through your body, allowing it to help you leap off your feet and land steadily behind him. Poe stumbled forward, confusion etching his face when he noticed you were no longer there. Quickly, he spun on the spot and pointed an accusatory finger at you.

"You can't use the Force!" he whined. "That's totally cheating!"

"I'm sorry, I didn't realise using my natural advantages was off limits," you smiled smugly.

Poe's face changed instantly; the pout he was sporting soon shifted into the beginnings of a smirk and while you weren't sure what he was thinking, you had a strong feeling that you were in trouble. This feeling only strengthened when Poe took an extra step towards you and you realised that if you shifted your head up just a fraction, your noses would be touching. 

"What are you doing?" you asked, voice quiet.

"If you get to use your natural advantages, so do I, sweetheart," he replied.

Kriff.

Had his voice always been so deep? You suddenly couldn't quite remember. And how was it fair that the both of you were covered in sweat, chests rising and falling rapidly to control your breathing, but he still managed to pull it off somehow while you were left looking like you'd just run a 3 hour long marathon? His curls were stuck to his forehead, his muscles prominent in the tattered shirt he'd decided to wear, — Why did he have to choose that shirt? — and when his hands moved to rest on your waist, you swore the look in his eyes was dangerous.

"I-I don't..." 

"What's wrong? Loth-cat got your tongue?" His grip on you tightened a little. "You had so much to say earlier." 

Each time you took a breath in, your chest brushed lightly against his. The touch stoked a fire within you (one that had been burning since you'd met the pilot) and spread its warmth straight from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. You wondered if he felt the same burning inside. Flirting wasn't something that was uncommon between the two of you; Poe was a natural charmer and you could dish it out just as well as you could take it, but this felt... different.

Was he playing on your attraction towards him just to win? No... You refused to believe that. While Poe could be overly cocky, he wasn't cruel. He was never cruel.

Yet, as the two of you stood there, Poe hesitantly moving to close the small gap, your body reacted before your brain did...

And knocked him on his ass.

He fell to the ground with a grunt, his back hitting the mat and cushioning the impact. Your eyes widened and you brought your hand to cover your mouth in shock.

"I am so sor— whoa!"

Poe's foot hooked around your ankle and gave a tug, your body being thrown off balance and ending up half sprawled over his. You supposed this was karma.

With the wind knocked out of you, you gave yourself a moment to recover, and that's when you noticed Poe's body was shaking with laughter. Lifting your head, you narrowed your eyes at him. 

"What the hell, Dameron?" 

"If you wanted me underneath you so bad, you could've just asked," he grinned through his chuckling.

"Oh my— You are the worst!" 

Throwing your leg over his waist, you lifted yourself up to straddle him, giving yourself a better position to let your hand slap his chest as you chastised his childishness. Poe's laughter only grew, gripping your wrist to stop your teasing attacks. 

"Y’know what? Maybe next time, I should be the teacher," you suggested, your own grin forming as you looked down at him. "You ever wanted to learn how to use a Lightsaber?"

The excitement in his eyes gave you your answer before his voice did. "Are you serious?"

"Maybe," you shrugged casually. "If you decide to be nice to me for once."

"Alright, alright," Poe's agreed. His thumb brushed against the skin of your wrist as he spoke and his eyes softened. "How about we get washed up and grab something to eat later? My treat."

You pretended to think about the offer for a minute, a dramatic sigh following after. “I guess that's a start..."

"Good," Poe smiled. "I—"

A sequence of familiar beeps and whirls abruptly interrupted your little conversation, both your heads snapping towards the door where BB-8 stood with a smug Finn and an amused Rey, clearly just back from their date. (They had pointedly called it a ’trip’ but you knew better.) 

"Oh," Poe said, awkwardly. "Hey, guys."

Finn's eyebrows rose. "Really? That's what you're settling on; 'hey guys'?"

"Admittedly, you could've chosen something better," you told him.

"Whose side are you on here?" Poe asked you grumpily as Rey chimed in.

"I feel like a lot has happened since we left,” she said while giving you a knowing look. “Did we miss something?"

"Not at all!" You forced yourself to your feet and cleared your throat, quickly gathering up your things. "Actually, I should probably go clean up."

"Why?" Finn asked teasingly with a playful wink. "Got a hot date?"

You shot Poe a brief look over your shoulder as you headed towards the exit, noting how he still lay on the ground with a cheesy grin on his lips.

"Actually... Yeah."

[nekoabiwrites]

Rain On Me Chapter 2 - You’re Perfect

So, I had a second idea for this AU and stuff... because I’ve been listening to Emo the Musical again. 

Here’s the song in the fic: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vobWXc4fRWM

AU: School Pairing: Pining Moxiety Words: 2324 Warnings: Almost kisses, playful tickles. Anything else, please let me know.

Summary: Virgil and Patton are hanging out, and they’re basically just disasters.

Virgil was happy. He was overjoyed and excitable for the first time in a long time.

He was laying on a bed, his arms resting behind his head as he smiled up at the unfamiliar ceiling. Across the room, he could hear the rhythmic sound of typing and a soft humming. It was all just so calm. Though, had a stranger happened to walk in through the door to the room, they would have likely been a little off-put by the strange combination of teenagers in the room.

Virgil was the dark, scary emo kid – wearing all black, many layers, dark circles below his eyes that were only accentuated by the dark eyeshadow and eyeliner under his eyes, his heavy boots hanging off the end of the bed – who was currently laying in a room covered in a bright coat of blue paint, with the walls almost filled to the brim with smiling faces and positive imagery. To add to that, the other teen that was currently sat at the desk was wearing a pastel pink shirt under adorable, lightly faded overalls, looking much more at home in their current surroundings.

As he was deep in this thought that amused him greatly, Virgil was able to hear the swivel of the desk chair and a loud tut followed by a sigh. Within seconds, Patton’s face was in his vision above him.

“Virgil. Don’t you have homework?” Patton’s hands were on his hips, his face as stern as possible which was a feat considering the teen was utterly adorable all other times.

The emo shrugged, “Probably.”

“Shouldn’t you be doing it?”

“Probably.” Virgil repeated, shutting his eyes with a smirk.

Patton made a noise that could only be described as ‘pouty’ and stamped his foot like a small child, which got Virgil to crack open an eye to look at his friend. “Virgil!” The boy whined, “You need to do it, or else you’ll get in trouble again!”

The teen laying on the bed sighed and pushed himself up, so he was sitting, “But its really not important, Pat. Who cares how much trouble I get in for not doing homework?”

“I do!” The pastel-covered boy looked at Virgil with a pleading look, “Do it for me?”

In the year they’d gotten close, Patton had clearly learnt how to get Virgil to do what he wanted as that puppy-dog look was one of the only things that could break the emo’s resolve.

Virgil tilted his head back with a long, drawn out groan, “Fine. But, can we start with something that’s not pure torture?”

“What would that be?” Patton asked with a giggle. As he’d spoken, the other boy had reached out and gently began to play with Virgil’s hair, almost in a false attempt at fixing it while his head was leaning back. They both seemed to get distracted for a second as they stared at each other in silence. Patton’s other hand came up to rest against Virgil’s cheek, which the emo then found himself resting into. But the spell was broken when Patton flushed and realised what he was doing, pulling his hands back. He mumbled an apology and shuffled back over to the desk chair, seating himself down with his hands clasped tightly in his lap.

Virgil took a few more seconds to really come back to reality. He flushed himself and cleared his throat, spinning to throw his legs over the side of the bed and stand up. He headed over to the space next to the door and picked up his guitar case, “I um, was thinking we should, or could – only if you wanted of course – do some of, the music stuff, we need to do?”

“Yeah, sounds good!” Patton nodded stiffly before he quickly spun the desk chair back around to check the assignment brief.

In the meantime, Virgil awkwardly made his way towards the bed and uncovered his beloved guitar, checking the tuning of each of the strings to ensure they were all perfect. He only looked up when his friend cleared his throat and spun back to face him with his laptop in hand.

“So, it says that we need to come up with a song together that represents something about us…” Virgil watched as Patton chewed on his bottom lip in thought, staring with furrowed eyebrows at the screen in front of him. It was utterly endearing, and Virgil couldn’t help a small smile. “What do you think?”

“Huh?”

Patton pouted a little, “I asked if you had any ideas…” He placed the laptop back on the desk behind him before staring Virgil down exaggeratedly and adorably, even though he was trying to be severe, “Were you not listening again, mister?” Virgil snorted and looked away, not saying a thing but giving his answer. Patton huffed, “Looks like I need to do something about that!”

Within the next few seconds, Patton had taken his guitar from his hands. “Hey! Give that-” His demand was cut off by a fit of giggles as his friend practically tackled him to the bed and began to tickle his sides. Virgil twisted and turned, trying to cut off access but Patton was adapting to every movement easily, both of them laughing loudly. It only took a couple of minutes before the emo started to beg Patton to stop in-between laughter, which had his friend stilling his movements.

Patton continued to grin and giggle, “Have you learnt your lesson yet?” Virgil, still breathless and pulsing with residual laughter, nodded slightly. That seemed to placate his pastel friend, as Patton didn’t continue his assault on his sides.

As he finally caught his breath, Virgil realised where they were. Patton was sat atop his legs, clearly having used his weight to keep Virgil locked into his ticklish hell, and his arms were resting either side of him. There was something about looking up into his friend’s… his crush’s eyes from below like this that was just so different. This was intimate and they both seemed to know it but weren’t willing to break from it.

At least until Patton’s bedroom door opened and his younger sister entered, yelling at him to stop being so loud or else she’d tell their parents about ‘his boyfriend’ and what they were doing. Patton’s face practically lit up, he turned such a bright shade of red. He responded with a cry for her to get out of his room, almost leaping off of the bed as if he’d just been burnt. The sister ran away with a shriek as Patton ran towards her. A loud voice came from downstairs, telling the siblings to knock it off. Both began to blame the other.

Virgil used this time to sit himself back up. He watched as Patton exited into the hallway in order to explain his side of the story to his dad, who’d come up the stairs since this was likely taking some time. The emo found where Patton had propped up his guitar and grabbed it, settling in his lap like some sort of barrier between himself and the shouting from outside the room. Quietly, he strummed a soft rhythm that he swore he’d heard somewhere.

After a few minutes, Patton returned with his cheeks still pink. He shut the door with a sigh, almost deflating once it was shut. He turned back to Virgil with a sheepish smile, “Sorry about her… She’s a little… umm…” Patton searched for the word he was looking for.

“Brat?” Virgil offered. He couldn’t hide his smirk when Patton told him off for being so rude with his own little smile.

“Anyway, we were going to work on that project?”

“Yeah, and I don’t really have any ideas…”

The two sat in silence for a while. Patton slowly turning himself in the desk chair with a pen between his teeth and his fingers, chewing slightly as he got lost in thought. Virgil rested on his guitar, trying to think of something they could write a song about. Eventually, he found himself needing some sort of noise, so he began to strum the same tune as earlier. Patton stopped spinning and listened, watching the emo play.

It didn’t take long until Patton had an odd thought pop into his head and he giggled, causing Virgil to stop. “What’s so funny?”

“I just had a silly idea for a song lyric.”

“Oh, what is it?” Virgil asked, shifting his weight so he was turned a little more towards his friend.

“Well, what if there was a song that was talking about something attractive about someone, like their lips, as a random example.” Patton’s darkening cheeks were giving away that it wasn’t something random, but Virgil refused to interrupt, “But then it goes on to say that they’re good for something that’s not expected, like eating something or things like that?”

Virgil snorted at the thought, “That’s… actually kinda funny. So, like ‘your lips are so perfect, they’re great for eating a sandwich’ kinda thing?”

“Yes! Exactly! What if we did something like that?” Patton was excitedly bouncing up and down, “That song you were playing was really catchy too, we could use that?”

Virgil flushed a little at the compliment, “I mean, we could, yeah. If you want to.”

It took them the rest of their time together, but Patton and Virgil figured out what they wanted the lyrics to be. There were only around 10 more minutes until Virgil would have to leave when they started to rehearse it, as they were going to need to perform this in front of their class. Virgil played, while Patton read their written lyrics off of a piece of paper.

“You've got wonderful legs They're just what legs should be”

Virgil cut in to sing the next line,

“Just the other day I saw you walk down the street on them”

Both of them harmonised for their final two lines of their verse,

“You know it's true You know it's true”

Their pattern swapped for their second verse, with Virgil beginning and Patton seemingly cutting the boy off to interject his own response, before they both harmonised again to finish it off.

“You've got lovely lips They're just what lips should be They're absolutely perfect for eating a sandwich with You know it's true You know it's true”

Patton went on to sing their bridge solo, leaving Virgil to play his accompaniment, as well as be completely in awe of his friend’s gorgeous singing. If Patton’s speaking voice was enchanting, then his singing must be made of pure magic that only an enchantress or siren could harness – it was just so beautiful, it could get Virgil to do anything.

“When we talk it's completely understandable When we touch it's completely consensual Nothing about our relationship is illegal You know it's true You know it's true

You've got a marvellous brain It thinks just like I do”

Virgil almost forgot he was to be the response again, but managed to snap himself out of his trance just in time to finish the song alongside his friend.

“And when the words come out you know I agree with every one You know it's true You know it's true

You know it's true You know it's true.”

The emo finished with a soft flourish of the strings on the guitar. He carefully placed his guitar on the bed away from him before Patton tackle-hugged him, clearly riding the excitement he felt of having their own song together. Thankfully, he was ready, so Virgil didn’t go falling back onto the bed again, but Patton did still manage to find his way into his lap somehow.

Patton quickly realised what position he’d gotten himself into once again and went to climb off, but Virgil stopped him by softly reaching up and brushing Patton’s hair out of his eyes. Patton seemed to melt into his touch, his eyes softly closing for a second. The pastel boy’s hands had been resting on Virgil’s shoulders from when he was trying to move away, but they moved so that his forearms were resting there instead, and his hands were gently hanging behind the emo’s head. Virgil hadn’t realised when Patton had moved just that little bit closer, but he didn’t have a single complaint, especially as it made it easier for him to rest an arm around the smaller teen’s waist.

A thought pushed itself to the forefront of Virgil’s mind and he opened his mouth to whisper, as that was all his vocal chords would allow him to do right now, “Hey… Patton?”

A gentle, slightly sleepy sounding ‘hmm?’ was the response he got, along with an extremely soft expression. Patton looked just so calm and vulnerable there in his lap. It was almost if this was actually going to go well, despite the crying insecurities in Virgil’s head.

“Do you-?” He started.

“Patton, honey. Your friend- Oh!”

The bedroom door had once again been pushed open, but this time by Patton’s mother. Patton and Virgil had both scrambled frantically to separate, both of them blushing heavily. Patton began to stutter out excuses and stories of what was happening in order to convince his mom that it really wasn’t a big deal and wasn’t anything romantic or sexual or anything like that. Every excuse was like a stab to Virgil’s gut. He should have listened that voice in his head, nothing ever went well. Virgil started to agree with his friend, but the older woman was clearly having none of it. She laughed and ruffled her son’s hair before escorting Virgil down the stairs after he’d gotten his things together. She said goodnight to him and winked before shutting the door behind him.

Virgil had been happy, but now he had an awful sinking feeling in his stomach. It was never going to happen, it was all just a far-off dream.

Previous ----- Next

My other stuff: http://nekoabi.tumblr.com/myworks Mobile Accessible Masterlist: http://nekoabi.tumblr.com/post/181954641376/fic-masterlist

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[seraph-novak]

Thinking of You

Summary ~ When Cyrus is stood up by his date, TJ finds him alone in The Spoon and tries to cheer him up.

Also available on AO3 ♥

With every jingle of the bell above the door, Cyrus could feel his excitement for his date with Matthew dwindling more and more. He peered out the window and stared down the street, searching for any signs of the handsome 9th grader Andi had set him up with.

She’d met the older boy through Walker, who knew Matthew from his art class, and had insisted they were perfect for each other. All Cyrus knew about the mysterious Matthew was that he was a talented sculptor who’d come out as bisexual last year. It wasn’t much to go on, but at least he finally had a date – his very first with another boy.

A quick glance at his phone told him that Matthew was almost fifteen minutes late. Cyrus spread his hands across the table and blew out a breath, a single bead of sweat trickling down the side of his face. If his date didn’t turn up soon, his embarrassment would quickly snowball into panic, and he didn’t particularly like the idea of having an attack in the middle of The Spoon.

He was about to send Matthew another text when the bell jingled yet again, and a familiar body dropped into the seat across from him.

“Hey, Underdog,” TJ greeted him with a smile. “What’re you up to?”

Cyrus shoved his phone into his jacket and shrugged. “I’m supposed to be on a date, but he’s running late.”

“A date? I didn’t know you had a date.”

“Yeah, well... Andi arranged it for me. It’s with this guy who goes to Walker’s school.” He grabbed a napkin from the dispenser and started tearing it to shreds, his eyes focussed on the tiny scraps of white paper dancing across the table. “I didn’t wanna tell anyone until after I’d met him, but I guess I didn’t consider the possibility of him not turning up at all.”

TJ winced. “I’m sorry, Cy.”

“It’s not your fault.” He attempted a smile, but it felt more like a grimace. “I’m just a little embarrassed.”

“Why the hell are you embarrassed? It’s your date who should feel like an idiot for standing you up!”

Cyrus chuckled. “That’s sweet, but... I don’t blame the guy. He’s like, ridiculously attractive. I was surprised he agreed to go on a date with me in the first place.”

“Now you’re talking crazy.” TJ shot him a sharp look. He waved at Cyrus’ jacket pocket and said, “Show me a picture of him. I wanna see the jerk who thinks he’s too good to go on a date with the greatest guy in town.”

Cyrus ducked his head to hide the blush spreading across his cheeks, taking out his phone and scrolling through the pictures Andi had sent him a few days ago. He selected the most appealing one – a black and white selfie taken next to one of his sculptures – and slid the phone across the table.

TJ studied the photo for a few moments, then scoffed. “Am I supposed to think this asshole is out of your league?”

“It’s a fact, TJ.”

“Are you kidding me? He takes a crappy, self-inflated photo of himself in front of a mediocre sculpture, and suddenly he’s the next Brad Pitt? You’re ten times more gorgeous than this joker, Cy!”

Cyrus blinked in surprise. “You... You think I’m gorgeous?”

“It’s a fact.”

“Now I know you’re messing with me.”

“Okay, I’ll prove it.” TJ switched the phone into camera mode and snapped a quick photo of Cyrus, barely giving him a moment to respond, let alone smile.

“What was that for?” he asked.

TJ passed him back his phone. “I just wanted to prove a point.”

Cyrus looked at the photo in his hands. It was slightly blurry, and the flash had created a starburst of white light next to his head. He was staring at the camera with a slightly bewildered expression, his lips pursed and his eyebrows drawn together, and the thin layer of sweat on his brow was shining beneath the harsh fluorescent lights of The Spoon. All in all, he looked a mess.

“What was the point you were trying to prove?”

TJ shrugged. “That you can take a better photo without even having to try. No filters, no bragging, no stupid pose... You don’t need any of that.” He gave him a crooked smile and rubbed the back of his neck. “You’re perfect the way you are.”

Cyrus’ breath hitched. “Do you really mean that?”

“Of course I do,” TJ said, his eyes practically gleaming as he looked up at Cyrus. “You’re beautiful.”

The jingling of the bell shattered the heated silence between them. A familiar boy stepped through the door and ran a hand through his perfectly tousled hair, his eyes flicking over the other customers in The Spoon before landing on Cyrus. A smile tugged at his lips as he made his way across the room and offered his hand in greeting.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” he said. “My mom’s car broke down on the way here, and I couldn’t get any signal on my phone...”

TJ snorted. “That’s a pretty lame excuse.”

“And who are you?” Matthew asked, his hand slipping from Cyrus’ grasp.

“I’m his best friend,” TJ said, phrasing his words as a warning.

Matthew gave him a tight smile. “I didn’t realise we were supposed to bring a plus one.”

“He was just passing through,” Cyrus explained in a placating tone of voice. “I didn’t think you were gonna show, so TJ was keeping me company.”

“Well, I’m here now.”

“Is that your way of asking me to leave?” TJ asked.

Matthew puffed out his chest. “Yeah, actually. It would probably be best if you gave us some privacy.”

“Fair enough.” TJ got to his feet and stepped out the booth, making way for Matthew to get past. He gave the other boy a dirty look when his back was turned, then placed a hand on Cyrus’ shoulder. “I meant what I said,” he whispered, a sad smile softening his face. “Call me later, okay?”

Cyrus swallowed thickly. “Okay.”

TJ didn’t bother saying goodbye to Matthew as he walked out The Spoon, and Cyrus couldn’t take his eyes off him until he’d disappeared down the sidewalk. Even after he’d gone, he could barely register what Matthew was saying to him.

“I’m sorry, what?”

Matthew sighed through his nose. “I asked if you’re ready to order yet.”

“Oh. Um... Sure.”

“Is everything okay?”

Cyrus pinched himself beneath the table and forced a smile. “Yeah. Everything’s fine.”

~~~~~

TJ couldn’t focus on the textbook opened on his bed. He’d been studying the same chapter for the past three hours, and nothing was sinking in. What was the purpose of solving simultaneous equations anyway? How was that going to help him in life? He’d much rather be learning about something useful, like History or Geography... But if he wanted to scrape by with anything above a D in his test tomorrow, he’d have to at least give Math a chance.

He was half way through one of the practice equations when Amber shouted his name up the stairs and told him he had a visitor.

TJ froze. There was only one person that could be, and the thought of seeing him so soon after their earlier conversation made his skin itch with nervous energy. He jumped off the bed, sending the textbook flying across the room, and checked himself in the mirror, groaning at the sight of his limp hair and baggy clothes.

There was no time to make any adjustments though, because Cyrus was suddenly knocking on his door.

“TJ?” he asked, his voice slightly muffled. “Can I come in?”

TJ swore at his reflection, then opened the door.

“Hey, Cy,” he said, extra casual as he leaned against the doorway. “What’s up?”

Cyrus was wringing his hands together, and his hair was damp with sweat. “I, um... Can I talk to you? It’s important.”

“Is this about your date?”

“A little bit, yeah.”

TJ scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry about being such an ass to what’s-his-face. I was just being protective, you know? That’s how best friends are supposed to act.”

“This isn’t about Matthew.”

“But you just said –”

“This is about you and me,” Cyrus said, gently shouldering past TJ and sitting on the edge of his bed. He tucked his knees against his chest and started rocking back and forth, his eyes fixed on the basketball rug on the floor. He almost looked demented.

“Um. Cy?” TJ closed the door and approached his friend slowly, trying his best not to startle him. “Are you okay, Underdog?”

Cyrus sucked in a deep breath and shook his head.

“Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

“I don’t think I’m gonna see Matthew again,” Cyrus admitted, taking TJ by surprise. “Our date didn’t go very well. It’s my fault, really. I was distracted the whole time.”

“What d’you mean?”

Cyrus stopped his rocking and looked up at TJ, his bottom lip starting to tremble as tears welled in his eyes. “I tried so hard not to fall for you, but you made it impossible.”

TJ balked. “What’re you talking about?”

“Please don’t play dumb, TJ.”

“You’ve lost me.”

“I’m in love with you!” Cyrus growled, pushing TJ off-balance as he leapt to his feet and started pacing around the room. “And I’m trying my best to get over you, but you’re making it really difficult! Especially when you call me beautiful and tell me I’m perfect... It’s like you want me to be in love with you!”

TJ shook his head in confusion, completely speechless as Cyrus’ words sank in.

“And I know you’re straight, and you probably have a crush on some gorgeous cheerleader or something, but I just couldn’t keep this to myself anymore. I needed you to know the truth.”

“You think I’m straight?” TJ asked, his eyebrows disappearing into his hairline. “Are you being serious?”

Cyrus frowned. “You’ve never told me otherwise...”

“So? I thought I’d made it pretty obvious.”

“I’m confused.”

“I’m not straight,” TJ clarified, a goofy smile creeping onto his face as Cyrus’ confession finally registered in his brain. “I’m super gay, and I’m super in love with you.”

Cyrus squeaked. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“I’m gay,” TJ repeated, slowly getting to his feet and crossing the room to where Cyrus was plastered against the wall, his eyes practically bugging out of his skull. “And I love you, Underdog. So, so, so much...”

“Is this a joke? Are you messing with me?”

“I’d never do that.” TJ reached out to touch Cyrus’ face, his fingers tracing the startled blush dusting the other boy’s nose. Even now, with his jaw hanging open and his hair soaked in sweat, he was gorgeous. “I didn’t know you felt the same way. That’s the only reason I never told you. I didn’t wanna ruin our friendship.”

Cyrus leaned into TJ’s touch. “Is that why you were so hard on Matthew? Were you... jealous?”

TJ bit his lip and shrugged, his mouth twitching with a guilty smile. “He was the first guy you’d ever been on a date with. Seeing you with him made me wanna punch a wall, I’m not gonna lie.”

“Don’t do that,” Cyrus said, taking TJ’s hand and cradling it in his own. “I can’t hold your hand if it’s broken.”

TJ laughed. “That’s a very good point.”

Cyrus smiled as he played with TJ’s fingers, the warm brush of his skin sending tingles up TJ’s arm. When they dared to meet each other’s eyes again, they both erupted into fits of nervous laughter. It was almost hilarious how wrong they’d both been, how the past few months of mutually pining for each other could’ve easily been avoided if they’d simply been honest with each other. But there was no point in dwelling on the past, not when they had so much lost time to make up for.

“I wanna take you on a date,” TJ said, leaning their foreheads together. “Right now.”

Cyrus stared at his lips for a moment, then sighed, nodding his head towards the textbook lying face down in the middle of the room. “As much as I’d love to go out with you tonight,” he said, “you need to study for your big test tomorrow.”

TJ buried his face in Cyrus’ shoulder with a pitiful whine. The thought of focussing on Math for the rest of the night when he could be spending time with his boyfriend (were they boyfriends now?) felt like a kick in the stomach. How was he supposed to concentrate when he and Cyrus had so much left to talk about?

“I’ve got an idea,” Cyrus said, apparently noticing TJ’s dismay. “How about you invite me to stay for dinner, and I can help you study?”

TJ grinned. “Would you like to stay for dinner, Underdog?”

“I’d like that very much.”

Before TJ could respond, Cyrus gave him a quick peck on the lips and ducked underneath his arm, smiling smugly as TJ touched his mouth in stunned silence, his mind replaying the soft sensation of Cyrus’ lips against his own.

“Which chapter do you wanna study first?”

TJ blinked. “Huh?”

“For your test,” Cyrus said, waving the textbook in the air with a knowing smirk. “Which chapter should we start on?”

“Oh. Um... I was stuck on simultaneous equations.”

“Okay.” Cyrus patted the space on the bed beside him, and TJ sat down in a daze, his heart rate spiking as their knees bumped together.

Cyrus squeezed his hand and smiled. “Relax, TJ. I won’t kiss you again without warning.”

“I liked it!”

“So did I,” Cyrus said, “but now it’s time for studying. We can get back to the interesting stuff afterwards.”

TJ chuckled. “Are you sure you’re okay with this? It’s not the most exciting way to spend our first night as...” He trailed off, his cheeks turning warm. “Am I allowed to call you my boyfriend, or is it too soon?”

“If anything, it’s too late,” Cyrus pointed out. He moved closer to TJ and spread the textbook across their laps, resting his head against TJ’s shoulder with a contented sigh. “And I’m definitely okay with this. All I wanna do is spend time together.”

TJ allowed himself to relax. “Me too.”

They spent the rest of the night alternating between studying and cuddling. For every question TJ answered correctly, Cyrus rewarded him with a kiss – an incentive that resulted in TJ working extra hard – and every time TJ got stuck, Cyrus was there to keep him calm and help him through the problem. It was a studying method he could definitely get behind.

And when his test was returned with a shiny C+ on the top of the page a few days later, the first person TJ raced to tell was his boyfriend.

[forkanna]

[AO3 LINK] [EF LINK]

The next day, between second and third period, Anna managed to find Elsa by the water fountain and pulled her off to one side. She just had to know what she thought of their little 'blind date' the evening before.

It was slightly less favourable than Anna had hoped for.

"It was a date?" Elsa hissed, looking around to make sure they were truly alone. "Tori, you already know…" The way she trailed off, there was no need to specify what she meant. It took Anna a moment to respond.

"Oh, well. You know. Hanging. Where- where I come from 'date' doesn't necessarily mean romantic…" She almost winced at how terrible the lie was; Elsa's eyes narrowed, scrutinising her, but she didn't remark on it. Slowly, her anger dissipated.

"Look, Kristoff is very nice, and I really appreciate the gift he brought." Here, she gave Anna a meaningful look, which Anna stoically ignored. "I'll be honest, I wasn't really expecting anything like, mega interesting. He's kind of a dweeb." She gave a smile, trying to take the sting out of her words. Perhaps it had something to do with the revelation the previous night, the fact that Anna was still on the slow march to fading away, just like her brother, but she couldn't see the funny side.

"Elsa… I'm sorry to tell you this, but you fangirled with him for like an hour about sci-fi fanfiction. If he's a dweeb, what does that make you?"

"Fan- whatever. Tori, I'm already called names, and I hate it. Do you know how much worse it'll be if I'm seen hanging around him too much?" Her eyes were wide, and Anna had been about to judge her… when she came to a sudden and unwelcome realisation that this was high school in the 80s. Appearances were everything. But despite that, she couldn't help the way her heart sunk. Sure, Kristoff wasn't perfect, but he was kind. A trait that seemed to be in especially short supply.

"Wow. I just- wow, Elsa." Shaking her head, she looked away. "I can't believe that you'd throw away a good friend just because some other people suck. Yeah, sure, you're called names. Names that, as far as any of the people here know, have zero truth. I thought you were better than them, but maybe you're not. It shouldn't even matter anyway!"

"Tori-" Elsa reached a hand out, an attempt at placating Anna, but she was too annoyed for it to have any effect.

"No!" she cried, jerking backwards further. "That- what you just said there, that's a terrible thing to say. I think Kristoff is a great guy – he was scared because he thought you were way out of his league. I think he was wrong. I think he's out of your league."

And with that, she turned around and stormed off, angry tears brimming. How could Elsa think that? How could she let peer pressure stop her from acknowledging another human being?! Before she could get too far, she felt a hand tap her on the shoulder. Turning around, she tried to hide how upset she was, half-expecting it to be Elsa. But it wasn't.

"Kristoff?"

"Hi." It was a simple greeting, and he said it with a simple smile. She was also happy to see that he was wearing the shirt with the palm tree, and he looked freshly scrubbed, hair slicked back again. It was less shiny than she'd come to expect, and it really did wonders for his appearance.

"O-oh. Hey."

"Just wanted to thank you for yesterday… you know, introducing us. I didn't think… well, actually having a chance to talk to her, and it going that well! It was like some kind of weird fever dream." He gave her a look, and he could probably tell that she'd been upset about something, but he chose not to comment.

It gave her a chance to pull together a small smile, anyway. "Hey, no big." When he squinted, she added, "Deal. No big deal."

"Good. Um… so, did she say anything about me? Probably not."

"Now, now, don't go back down the negativity slide into the ballpit of sadness." Sighing, she glanced over in the direction she had left her mother-slash-friend. "Well… she did say that you're nice, and interesting." She had, technically, even if all of that was wrapped around some disappointing superficiality.

"No WAY." Sputtering with slight disbelief, he glanced back toward where Elsa was talking to her friends. Anna thought she looked a little less chipper than she had before they spoke, but she decided not to focus on that for now. "That's… wow, I can't thank you enough! Could never have done any of this without your help."

"You don't have to. I mean, paying me back that forty bucks would be great, but it's seriously no trouble."

Smiling, he hesitated, then offered his hand to shake. "Thanks, um… what was your name again?"

"Anna McF-" At the last second, she managed to cut herself off. She really needed to get a better jump on stuff like this! "Tori. Um… Tori Spelling."

What a dumb pseudonym to pick; it was the first surname that came to mind. Lucky for her, nobody would know who the hell that was for another five-plus years.

"Tori. Well, I gotta get to the library before class, so I'll… see you around?" Giving a small smile, he turned around, offering a wave over his shoulder.

Once she was alone, Elsa began to break off from her clique and head her way. Anna wanted to bolt, but she also didn't want to be petty; in the long run, this wasn't that big of a deal. Just disappointing. And Elsa was fully aware of that, it seemed. She approached slowly, a contrite look on her face. Good. Hopefully she knew why what she'd said had been so bad.

"Tori, can we talk, please?" Elsa asked. Anna looked at her for a moment. She really did look sorry, so letting out a sigh, she nodded.

"Sure. What's up?"

Glancing away, Elsa ran a hand through her hair. "I'm sorry. I know Kristoff is your friend and I shouldn't have put him down."

"No, you shouldn't have." Anna's words were sharp, and Elsa visibly winced. Grimacing to herself, Anna continued, "But thank you for apologising."

At last, Elsa smiled. The wounded-puppy look lessened, and her eye shone. A look came across her face, and she glanced away again, fiddling with the hem of her shirt. "Did- did you mean what you said? That he thinks I'm out of his league?"

At that, Anna gave a small snort, anger dissipating. "Have you ever looked in the mirror? He's got eyes, you know." Elsa's cheeks filled with colour at the compliment, her mouth drawing into a small 'o'. "But I also meant what I said. If- if you hadn't come and apologised, if you hadn't realised how terrible a thing you said was… he would be out of your league. Because he's nice, and he deserves nice people."

Elsa nodded soberly. "I understand. Maybe I was wrong about him. He was polite and friendly yesterday, and he certainly looked good. Honestly, I thought he was kinda dweeby, but I guess I just…" she trailed off.

"Just what?" Anna wasn't going to let her get away with not talking – especially if she was going to say something nice about Kristoff.

"I guess I judged him before I knew him. Which… is what everyone does about me, so that's pretty unfair coming from me especially. Don't know why I did it."

"I think you should tell him that," Anna said. "You nerded out hardcore yesterday, and I mean, more friends is always great." Not to mention the fact that Elsa's friends didn't seem like the "BFF" kind of girls; despite Elsa being the leader of their little clique, she didn't seem particularly close with either of them.

For a moment, her mother simply nodded. Then she shook her head and smiled. "I 'nerded out hardcore,' huh? Geez, you have such a mondo bizarro way of talking sometimes."

"I know, I'm pretty extra."

"Extra what?"

"Extra weird," she sighed, knowing she had done it again and finding it hard to care.

"Oh." Clearing her throat, she then went on, "So listen… I'm kind of out of money, and I know this is a little early, but do you want to just grab a milkshake after school today? My treat, to make up for being a bitch just now."

Anna pondered that. The more chances she had to hang out with her parents, the more likely she would be to positively influence the situation. "Kristoff, too?"

"Kristoff, too," she relented. "And I promise I'll ask Jazz and Ariel not to give him such a hard time."

"Sweet. I mean, um, radical."

Impulsively, Elsa leaned in to give her a brief squeeze, then skipped away down the hall to class, already close to late. Anna tried not to think about how much that scent penetrated her every time they hugged. Tried to push it out of her mind and only worry about her future. What they were going to do if she somehow failed to get them to like each other.

"I really don't want to be in charge of all this," she muttered to herself as she wandered off to the bathroom to hide during first period. "Can I call in sick?"

Fortunately for her, the day did get better. She didn't see Hans at all, and for the second time in a row, no one seemed to realise that she didn't belong. She actually fell asleep in the loo, and was a little late to lunch. Not expecting anything, she got a nice surprise when Elsa and Kristoff were already siting at the same table. They weren't saying much – Kristoff probably too nervous, and Elsa, well… her reasons were anyone's guess, but Anna had a feeling it had to do with their conversation earlier. Her friends were also there; did she not want to engage as much so they wouldn't think she was a dweeb?

But still, she was trying. There was some idle chatter – mostly about classes and homework – but nothing of any substance. Well, that had to change.

Based on that, she actually took her time getting her food, hanging back and watching them. As Doc had mentioned, Kristoff needed to be the better option, and being more available was part of that, right? Elsa could get to know him better and see that they had things in common more if Anna weren't there to distract her.

But damn, do I wish I wasn't a distraction in the first place, she thought to herself as she finally did join them. Almost five minutes had been wasted as she let her food get cold, hanging back with her tray.

"Hey there, slowpoke," Elsa tittered.

"I'm more of a Slowbro," she joked – and almost facepalmed. "Not… that you'll have any idea what I mean. Anyway, how's everybody?"

"Gnarly," Ariel sighed, examining her cuticles and trying to push them back slightly with the tines of her fork. Anna winced; that seemed unwise, and painful.

"I'd be doing better if he would notice me," Jazz sighed as she looked over at another table, three away from theirs. A tall, dark-skinned boy was laughing and chatting with Hans and his crew; he didn't seem to be part of that particular clique, but they were clearly all on some sports team or other together.

"Maybe you're better off if he's friends with that meathead," Anna observed. But when Jazz frowned, she quickly added, "But what do I know? You aren't always the company you keep."

Ariel scoffed as she moved back to picking at her salad. "I agree with the new girl. Like, why hasn't he made a move on Jazz? She's cute, and has way more going for her than that big ox."

"Nah, Al's alright. Kind of cocky sometimes, but he's not like Tannen or those other guys." They all turned to Kristoff at once. He seemed not to realise for a second, and only after a moment did the three sets of eyes on him seem to make a difference. His head sank down between his shoulders, but Elsa nudged him with her elbow. "What?"

"Go on. What else do you know? Inside scoop from the boy's bathrooms?"

"O-oh, well, I don't really hear much," he said, trying and failing to get out of the situation. "Unless they don't know I'm there. But Al seems decent enough. He hasn't gotten to Tori's level of 'standing up for people'–" Here he shot Anna a smile and she forced one back. 'Don't remind Elsa that I exist,' she thought furiously, 'don't take the focus off yourself! "–but he doesn't jump in with Hans' bullying."

"And Hans lets him get away with that?" Elsa asked, curious. Kristoff shrugged. "I thought it was Tannen's Law around here."

"Al's the swiftest forward in the whole state," he explained – even if Jazz and Ariel only exchanged shrugs at that information. "And Hans is only as popular as he is because the team does so well. He wouldn't risk that by messing with Al too much."

Jazz sighed, still looking over there. "Pity this isn't a Sadie Hawkins," she said. "At this rate, he's never going to ask me…"

The entire table looked over to the other one, and sure enough, Al was watching Jazz. At least he looked interested. But then something clicked.

"Wait, there's a dance coming up?" Anna asked. Everyone turned to look back at her. She felt very silly.

"Geez, what school have you been hanging around, Tori?" Elsa asked, mouth curled in a smile. "This Saturday is the Enchantment Under the Sea dance. It's only, like, the biggest event of the year."

Anna wasn't quite sure that she believed that, but she let it go. "I mean, I knew there was a dance," she fumbled – and technically it was true. "I just- I didn't realise it was this weekend."

"Well, welcome to the Eighties," Ariel said with a little snort.

Anna barely heard her. The dance was this weekend. Kristoff had only a few more days to pluck up the courage to ask Elsa – Anna only had a few more days of meddling. Sure, she knew she was leaving soon – there was no getting around a one-off lightning strike – but she'd hoped for her parents to have more time together first. No wonder John was fading so fast; she was woefully behind schedule.

At least now she saw her plan of attack. If only she could figure out the details, all hope might not be lost.

                                                          ~ o ~

That night, after a very casual "Sorry I have some chores to do" that excused her from joining them at the diner, Anna raced back to the house and enlisted Doc's help in rigging up a costume and filming something on her phone – eating through her precious battery power, which she had realised was going to run out a long time before she made it back to 2015 and could find a micro USB cable. For some reason, Doc didn't have a charger in the DeLorean. She'd be sure to yell at him about that… if she actually found him alive and well when she saw his future version again.

Then she snuck into Kristoff's house, grateful for the first time in forever that he insisted on pointing it out to his kids every time they were in the neighbourhood. It was easy to locate his room, and she gently placed a hastily-folded cardboard contraption over his sleeping head, essentially suspending the phone right in front of his eyes. One spilled glass of water later, he was awake and upright. All he could see was darkness… and the image of Doc in a strange costume.

"Greetings, Earthling! This is Hoban Washburne, from planet Naboo! You have a very special mission!"

Luckily, he did make it to the end of the mission – and the accompanying threat – before he passed out. Satisfied, Anna slipped the makeshift device off and crept back out his window and away into the night.

Now she was leaning on the brick wall outside Lou's, watching her dad jog up to her, all out of breath and frazzled. Lou's was a little more crowded now than it would have been twenty-four hours ago; students were crammed into the corner with the arcade machines, purely because the actual arcade was in the mall, which was a lot further away from the square. Plus, it was probably even busier than Lou's by that point.

The moment he noticed her, Kristoff made a beeline for her instead of the door. "Tori!" he hissed as soon as he got close. His eyes shifted left and right, and he got really close. Anna almost commented on his complete disregard for personal space, but decided against it. He looked pretty wigged out, and also… was that soap she could smell?

"Sup, dude?"

Blowing right past her greeting, he hissed, "Listen, you- we're friends, right?" Anna nodded. "Okay, so that means if I say something crazy, you won't laugh at me?" His big brown eyes were pleading, and he looked so confused. She hoped she didn't mess him up for life…

Once more, she nodded. "'Course I won't." Despite the assurance, it still took him a few moments to gather himself. He kept glancing around, and wasn't completely happy until he'd taken her arm and guided her further away from the general hub-bub of the café.

"Last night, I was sleeping, right? And then this cold feeling woke me up, a-and I couldn't see anything at all. Like there was a box on my head? And it sounds crazy, but in the box there was a tiny screen. Like, just the right size to fill my whole vision! And there was a dude on the screen who told me I had to invite Elsa to the dance!"

Anna had to bite back a smile; not because she wanted to laugh at him, but because she had been afraid that her plan wouldn't work, or that Kristoff would simply see through the ruse. She knew, of course, that technology of the future was different, but seeing how he reacted to it was interesting.

"Oh wow, that- that sounds pretty rad. Like there's someone watching over you. Like a guardian angel!"

But Kristoff was shaking his head, not looking nearly as happy as she felt he should be. "Tori, I- Why would he do that? How did he know? Sure, I really like her. And maybe we're friends now – at least she doesn't hate me. But if I ask her to this dance and she says no, I'll lose even that."

"Hey, no, you can't think that way. Don't be a nice guy."

"What? I shouldn't be nice?"

Crap – 'Nice Guy' didn't mean the same thing in 1985 that she meant it to. "I mean, DO be a nice guy, but… like…" Sighing, she forced herself to start over. "This is just one dance. And she's your friend! Start there. Don't buy into all that hype that if she turns you down, you're in the 'friendzone', that's not a real thing."

"I've never even heard of that thing," he mumbled, though he seemed to be too distracted by everything else she had said. "So you're saying… it doesn't matter if she says she doesn't want to go with me… it just means that we're still friends? And maybe she would wanna be more later, but don't push it?"

"Exactly. Maybe she will, maybe she won't. But like, being 'just friends' with a girl who likes to talk about science fiction is better than not talking to her at all, right? Girls are people, too."

That last phrase seemed to do it. He had already been listening intently, but that made sense to him. "You're right. We're all just carbon-based life forms."

"Well… maybe don't say that part to her," Anna muttered. "Not very romantic."

"Okay, okay. But what should I say, then? I… I have no idea how to approach a subject like this, I've never tried before!"

Anna knew what she would say. She's probably say something stupid like, "date me," and she knew that Elsa would maybe say yes because there was definitely interest from her already. But this wasn't about her. Scrunching up her nose, she contemplated for a moment.

"Just… keep it casual. Go up and just tell her how you feel. If you're not comfortable with the whole 'admit your undying love', then don't. But you care about her. And you wanna go to the dance with her. Don't you?"

Kristoff gave a self-deprecating laugh. "Of course I do. She's beautiful, and friendly, and smart, and I feel like I can actually talk to her. I know what everyone around school says about her, and I hate it because I know what they say about me, and it hurts."

"O-oh?"

"Yeah. Geez, why do all the good people get it the worst?"

Anna almost couldn't believe what she was hearing. Kristoff had never given any inclination that he knew much about the politics of the playground – aside from sneakily eavesdropping in the boy's locker room. "You don't… care? About what they say about her?"

Finally, his smile turned outward. It was no longer deprecating; no, now it was full of something else. "I mean… calling people names is cruel, especially ones like that. But if she was, so what? Like you said, we're all carbon-based li- I mean, people."

Anna didn't know what she'd been expecting, but it wasn't that. Suddenly she didn't feel so ashamed of having him as a father. "Kristoff," Anna said, turning her face up at him. "Go get her. Just be this you and I think you're gonna be okay."

Shaking out his limbs, and then slicking his hair back fresh again, he headed inside. Anna snuck in behind him, trying to be unobtrusive as possible as she sat at the bar and nodded for a "Pepsi Free," which seemed to be some weird 80s version of a Diet Pepsi that she'd never heard of in her entire life. She pulled a beanie hat out of her pocket and put it on so nobody would notice her red hair right away.

"Elsa?" Kristoff said as he made it to her table. It was just barely close enough that Anna could hear. "Heyyy… girl…"

Already, she wanted to facepalm. Elsa glanced at her friends, and then back at him. "Uh, hello, Kristoff. How's it hanging?"

"Um, pretty good, pretty good." He was nodding to himself. Anna could have groaned. "Listen… I wanted to… well, y'know…" He was choking. But Ariel coughing seemed to help him get restarted all on his own. "Just wanted to let you know that the past couple of days, hanging out? They've been great. Like, I don't know, I always had this feeling we could be friends if I got past my, um… dorkiness."

"Hey, it's okay," Elsa said in that soothing, motherly tone that made Anna want to sob huge tears of regret. If only she would use that in her own time period! "You know, like… shit happens. Right?"

Scratching the back of his head with a little self-conscious chuckle, he was the picture of an awkward teenage boy. Anna couldn't help smiling to herself. It was okay. Everything was okay. Her mother and father were teens and it was all going to be fine. "Right! Right, yeah, exactly. So anyway, I was wondering if maybe you-"

"HEY, MCFLY!"

Immediately, all the courage Kristoff had worked up dissipated. Anna turned her head, eyes squeezing shut. Of-fucking-course. The whole café went quiet, all eyes turning to the jerk in the jean jacket.

"I thought I told you to never come in here, McFly." Glancing over her shoulder, Anna followed Hans as he moved through the small shop, stepping menacingly towards Kristoff. The space seemed packed, and yet there was more than enough room for people to get out of Hans' way. "I guess you owe us. How much money you got-"

Hans never even got to finish his question. Just as he passed behind Anna's chair, she stuck her heel out. He never stood a chance.

However, given his size and stupidity, Anna hadn't expected him to recover so quickly, either. She'd hopped off her chair, hoping to make a quick escape, when he shot to his feet. She had stood in front of him before but- had he grown taller in the last day-or-so? That wasn't fair! Damn her parents and their short genes!

One of his big meathooks curled into a fist, and Anna decided she didn't want to find out whether or not Hans was okay hitting a woman. So she did the first thing she could think of. In hindsight, it was probably the silliest idea she had during this whole fucking adventure.

Pointing over his shoulder, she cried, "Ahh! What's that?" When he twisted his head to look, almost as if someone else were doing it, suddenly she was socking him straight in the jaw. He went down like an incredibly dense sack of potatoes.

Then she ran for the door. A couple of his goons made a move to catch her, but all she had to do was scream "AAAAHHH!" and they all backed up as if burned. Sometimes being a girl had fringe benefits.

Of course, she had barely made it outside when she heard them coming after her. Hans probably didn't care about hitting girls when no one was watching; he was just that kind of shitbag. So she kept running, toward the courthouse square and angling for a group of students who were all listening to thumping bass from the boombox that was hoisted onto one of their shoulders. It wasn't the music they were carrying that she was particularly interested in, though.

"Hey!" she panted. "Can… can I borrow one of your skateboards?"

"Girl, do you even know who we are?" one of them asked.

"You're the fucking King of Rock – I heard it from the radio just now, okay? But that asshole is gonna…" She couldn't even finish, just turned to glance at where Hans was looking around wildly for her. "Please?!"

"Well…" One of them had barely raised their skateboard before Anna was ripping it out of his hands. "HEY!"

"I'll bring it back!"

Then she was off like a shot. Maybe she wasn't good at very many other things, but this was her domain. It was certainly not Hans', and he knew it. They all clambered into his muscle car and began to give chase, probably breaking about fifty traffic laws in the process. But not only was Anna good at skateboarding, she also knew this town. Sure it had changed a little in the thirty-odd years, but she still knew which side streets went where, including which ones Hans would absolutely not be able to fit down in his souped-up overcompensation.

Unfortunately, so did he. He probably had lots of experience terrorising the neighborhood, which meant that every time Anna thought she'd given him the slip, he just ended up cutting her off again.

Goddammit. She could only hope that Kristoff had recovered his wits while she was keeping Hans occupied and gone on to ask Elsa out; that would at least make all this worthwhile.

Finally, she seemed to have lost him. It was a good ten minutes after she'd first burst through the café doors, and her sides were beginning to hurt from the exertion. Rolling towards the square, she checked behind her. No Hans. Bringing a hand up to wipe at her sweaty bangs, she let out a breath.

Of course, that was the moment that Hans' car burst from another street, almost sideswiping her.

Snatching the back bumper of a passing Jeep, she managed to be pulled down the street at speed, preventing Hans from running her over – probably only because he didn't want to get in trouble with the owner of the other vehicle. But he kept close behind, glaring, waiting for his opportunity. Alas for the bully, Anna saw her own before he did. At the end of the upcoming side street, she saw something that made her grin. All she had to do was keep going forward when the jeep inevitably turned…

So she did. She took off like a rocket, letting go at just the right moment so that she lost very little momentum as the car vanished from their lives, Hans gunning it to run her down.

And then she jumped backward, off the skateboard. If he'd been going any faster than 30mph, she probably would have been flattened, but she was scrawny and scrappy, and her reflexes were still pretty good. She managed to land ass-first on the hood of his convertible sports car, rolling over to grin and wave.

"You stupid SKANK!" he growled, teeth bared at her and looking more menacing than she'd ever seen. "I'll murder you for this!"

"C'mon, Hans!" she cried out, grinning. "You won't have time to murder me! You'll be too busy cleaning this car!"

She waited until he was blinking stupidly up at her before leaping to safety. She was just in time to roll through several bags of trash, coming to a stop fairly close to the skateboard she had borrowed. It wasn't a graceful, cute landing, and she would have the smell of old banana peels on her clothes for hours… but it was nothing compared to the fate that awaited her opponent.

Manure. Thick, rich, grass-fed cow patties, all piled into the back of a truck that unfortunately had an open back gate. Hans and his cronies collided with the open vehicle, launching tender nuggets all over their faces and heads and down into the seats and floorboards. Not to mention the crumpled hood of the car, smoke already beginning to rise from it.

Chuckling to herself, Anna picked herself up out of the trash. Looking around for the group of kids so she could return the skateboard, she became aware of the crowd that had gathered. They were all either looking at her, murmuring to each other, or all-out laughing at Hans' expense.

It didn't matter. Carrying the board, she managed to locate the kid she had mostly-stolen it from. "Hey, thanks man," she said. He took it, a dumbstruck look on his face.

"Where'd you learn to do that?" he asked. Anna shrugged.

"7 Eleven," she said, as truthfully as she could. That parking lot was one of many places she had honed her boarding skills.

As she headed back toward Elsa and Kristoff, she couldn't help but take another look at Hans, spitting manure out of his mouth and gagging. It was a memory she was going to savour. When he was being an a-hole to her dad and saying lewd shit about her mom, she'd remember this.

"Oh my GOD, Tori, you're so… fucking… RAD!" Elsa managed to whisper when she arrived, hands over her mouth. She noticed Kristoff looking a little like a third wheel, hanging around, but she didn't have much time to feel bad about it because blonde hair was suddenly filling her vision as arms came to wrap around her, Elsa hopping up and down on the balls of her feet.

"Hey, hey!" she laughed, hesitantly patting her on the back. But she had to get out of there. If she kept hanging around, she knew that Kristoff would never get a chance to finish his proposal that they attend the dance together. "No biggie. I just didn't want him to beat me up. Um… a-anyway, I gotta go, see ya!"

She knew it was a less-than-elegant exit, but maybe this could be one of those "make yourself less appealing" moments Doc had told her about. Soon enough, she was running through the streets, wishing she still had the skateboard.

                                                          To Be Continued…

[prettywordsyouleft]

Maybe I Need You

Characters: Hwang Minhyun x reader

Genre: fluff, life, self-discovery

Warnings: none

Word count: 3876

A/N: So I decided to try the shuffle drabble game and got the song Incredible by Xia Junsu. 

Prompt line from song: something incredible, something so magical - 

Life was stable of late, you had landed a decent paying office intern position right out of university and whilst days could be long and stressful, you had grown accustomed to the routine expected of you. When time permitted you would meet up with your two best friends Miyoung and Jihee, normally for dinner and renting out a noraebang room afterwards to sing into the early morning. Your family was in regular contact and in the weekends you would travel the two hours back to your hometown to complete your filial duties before returning back to the city for the new week of work.

Everything was very much so the same old every day.

And whilst you found immense comfort in having the confines of your daily expectations, your mind was growing bored. There was nothing to excite you when your eyes opened in the morning and like a robot you would get up to prepare for your work day, spooning food that soon began to lose it’s taste into your mouth three times a day, and then ironing your clothes for the following day before collapsing in your bed to pass the time until it all started again.

As a child, you had been a dreamer. You had wanted to explore the world, to dance to your own beat. To meet someone who would bring magic into your world and grow old with them. At twenty-four, you were grateful for your accomplishments but they weren’t satisfying your soul. There was no music to dance to, no dream to follow. Your wild and carefree days had been replaced with a monotone of adult responsibilities. You wanted something incredible, something so magical to occur in your life again to save you from the incessant buzz that was growing inside your head.

And that’s why you had done it.

You had never travelled alone before, not seeing the need to disrupt the flow of your schedule for something that wasn’t necessary. Family vacations had consisted of going to your Aunt’s every summer to help on their farm for a couple of weeks. The only thing you had ever done alone was move to Seoul and that was due to study and work. Your teenage years had confined your carefree childhood, shaping you to not expect much more than to get into a good university and job before getting married.

And because you hadn’t once questioned this systematic way of viewing the world, those who knew you had reacted to your Jeju Island vacation negatively.

“I don’t have any hours free to just drop everything to go play at the beach with you, Y/N. Can’t you plan it for six months time, then I’ll be free. Wah, you couldn’t even consider your friends’ schedules huh?” Miyoung had pouted at you, and you shook your head, knowing you couldn’t even wait another month.

“This is so unlike you,” Jihee had added in, both girls nodding their heads in unison. “You never do anything out of the ordinary. You’re not dying are you?!”

Your mother hadn’t been very supportive either. “You mean you won’t be able to come home and help me with your father’s vegetable garden? Why do you need to see the beach for? It’s just water. Come home on time, hm?”

“What’s this?” your manager had asked, holding up the printed request of your week off. “Have you got a family emergency?”

“No sir, I just have some personal-”

“Then you don’t need to take this time off right now, do you?” he’d cut in, shaking his head.

“I have enough vacation hours racked up for this though.”

“I don’t care, interns don’t get holidays, managers don’t even leave this place unless they’re dead. I expect you in here on Monday.”

You realised as you stared at the beach in front of you, the waves crashing and rolling into the shore, that the reactions you had received from your sudden need to escape everything was worth it. You grinned giddily at the vast blue ocean, taking in deep breaths of the salty air and dug your toes into the warm sand.

You would placate your friends when you were back. The garden will still be there to attend to. And your manager would be waiting with your warning in a week’s time.

Nothing seemed to frighten you anymore, not whilst you stood there.

You felt free.

The feeling was short lived. The sea had revitalised you but after two days of soul searching and rebuilding your psyche, you felt lost with what to do for the remaining time on the beautiful island. Although you had used your extensive researching skills to plan your entire trip, travelling alone definitely had its cons. You had never been a very sociable person, used to having your head buried in a book than out at a club, and you had always gotten by with the casual interactions you had in your lifestyle. A colleague to chat with over your lunch break, online friends to discuss your common interests when you couldn’t sleep, and Miyoung and Jihee met up with you at least once a week. You were self-sufficient by nature.

In the foreign island though you were aware of just how lonely your life actually was.

You had joined a travel group and although the excursions were interesting, you found yourself craving a person to be at your side. Someone to point out the magical views to, someone to laugh with, to share a meal with. Everyone had come with another, mothers travelling together now their grown children had moved out, older couples adding more memories to their life-books, and young lovers documenting their every step for social media. They all found their purpose for being here.

Now the salty air was an exact representation of your mood.

As the fourth day began, you dragged your feet to the meetup point for today’s venture. It wasn’t that you were against riding horses down the beach; in fact, you had been looking forward to this moment the most when you first looked into your tour package deal. But you didn’t want to be the one riding alone, whilst the rest all chatted and shared memories with each other.

“Alright team!” Seho, the tour guide said with his engaging tone, clapping his hands together. “We have two exciting things to discuss. First, we’ll be riding down the beach in half an hour and spend the morning up in the saddle before stopping at the Shark Shack for lunch. And secondly, we have a late arrival to our squad, please give a warm welcome to Hwang Minhyun, his flight had wound up being detoured and so he’s only just made it to Jeju yesterday. A round of applause please!”

You clapped your hands softly as you eyed the newcomer, his hand rubbing at the back of his neck as he bowed lightly in greeting. His shy smile reached up to his eyes and he looked at each member of the group, his attention finally falling upon you. It made you quickly avert your focus, a small blush crossing your cheeks. You weren’t sure why you felt the need to look away; everyone else had been looking at the tall boy as well.

“Alright, in five minutes we’ll walk down to the beach; make sure you’re all ready to go.” Seho then stepped off to talk with one of the mothers in the group.

Minhyun awkwardly stood at the opposite end of the group, watching on as everyone chatted with each other after greeting him. You smiled to yourself as he chewed on his lip, trying to decipher who to talk to first. You had done the same thing on the first day and whilst everyone had been kind to you, they all stuck to those they knew. Feeling a sense of confidence to ease his awkwardness, you stepped around a couple pulling peace signs into their outstretched phones and moved closer to him. He seemed relieved at your arrival, smiling more brightly at you.

“Travelling alone?” he asked and you nodded. He did the same thing and for a moment you didn’t say anything. And then you both turned to each other, about to say something. Minhyun laughed and gestured for you to go first. “I’m Y/N.”

“Minhyun.” He then clamped his eyes shut momentarily before laughing again. “Uh, you knew that.”

Seho interrupted your barely started conversation to encourage everyone to follow him down the wooden steps beside you all and onto the beach. For a moment you focused on getting down onto the soft sand and Minhyun fell into step beside you, pulling off his plaid shirt to tie around his waist in the growing morning heat. Your eyes diverted from his well-defined arms that were now showing out of his plain white tee, another blush rising on your skin.

“Do you like horses?” you blurted out, hoping to distract your feeble thoughts.

“I like animals but I’m not exactly sure how much I’ll enjoy riding yet. You?”

“I rode as a kid on my Aunt’s farm.”

“I see.” The silence returned and you both attempted to find more to talk about, a common desperation for connection with another person hanging between you. Minhyun cleared his throat. “It’s a bit odd being alone, right? I thought I’d feel at peace being by the beach.”

“Instead you find yourself looking for someone instead of the sea,” you responded, Minhyun nodding.

“I arrived yesterday afternoon and it was great to finally be here. Admittedly, now I feel a little out of my depth, I’m too much of a homebody I’ve realised.”

You smiled at him, nodding your head. “I was escaping the daily grind in hopes to find something magical to revitalise me enough to return to that same schedule again.”

“Do you miss it?” You nodded and he laughed. “I was stuck in Japan for two days whilst they redirected the flight back to here. I realised the hassle of change was more stressful than my job has been.”

For some reason, since neither of you knew each other, it was becoming easier to talk about yourselves as there were no social expectations to maintain like in your normal life. It was a unique way to build a connection with another person.

“It sounds so sad when you hear it out loud though, right?” you asked, seeing the horses ahead, but enjoying the conversation you were having that you didn’t feel the usual joy you did when you saw the majestic animals. “We paid all this money looking for something to change in our worlds but the actual change itself has us wanting our normalcy back.”

“Maybe we need the change though,” Minhyun murmured, his eyes capturing yours for a moment. He then smiled and looked ahead. “Maybe we’re here because our former selves need us to return different somehow.”

You pondered his words, evoking deeper contemplation than you thought you’d be having at ten in the morning. He nudged you lightly, surprising you somewhat. He himself blushed; amazed that he had done such a thing.

Pointing ahead at the horses, he then looked down at you. “Will I fall off?”

“Only if you do something to warrant it.” You grinned at his expression, his eyes wide at your lack of reassurance. “But if you do, the best thing is to get back up in the saddle again.”

“Why?”

“If you don’t do it, you won’t get back up again.” You both shared a knowing glance, wondering just how entangled this ride would become into your thought process on life.

An hour into the ride, Minhyun had finally stopped looking around for anything to throw off his balance, his own seat improving on the steady bay horse beneath him. You had been given one of the younger horses due to your knowledge of riding and the challenges she was giving you were more exhilarating than you expected. She was a sensitive black little mare, not enough encouragement and she would drag her feet, but just the slightest amount of forwardness would send her shooting off. Instead of worrying and trying to place her in a confined tempo, you laughed, enjoying the way she would have a say in how she would be ridden. She reminded you of your youth and as you trotted alongside Minhyun, you couldn’t help but smile brightly at him, feeling the sense of freedom you had when you first arrived at Jeju.

It caused him to spend a lot more time looking over at you, his own smile playing on his lips. “You look happy.”

“She’s a lot of fun,” you admitted, patting her neck gently. The mare flicked her head to the side at your touch and then snorted, picking up her steps more energetically. The urge to run was strong within you, to feel her fly. You envisioned the fields of the farm in your childhood, running along barefoot in your summer dress, laughing and picking the wildflowers as you played. The mare had a similar feel and you could sense her keen interest, horses being in tune with the subtle movements of our bodies.

And then you stopped imagining it, knowing the rest of the travel group was here to plod along at a steady pace. To keep everyone at ease, and follow what was expected.

Minhyun noticed your sigh. “Why don’t you ask to do it at the end of the ride?”

“Do what?” you asked, blinking out of your thoughts and looking over at the taller boy.

“Run free.”

“They probably won’t want the horses learning to move faster than a trot down the beach so new riders won’t worry about falling off,” you explained, shaking your head softly. Minhyun pursed his lips together. Smiling and letting out a small laugh you shook your closest hand at him. “Honestly it’s just good to be enjoying this now.”

“It’s not what you want to do though,” he observed and you dropped the reins you held, wondering how he was able to infiltrate your thoughts. Minhyun’s eyes darted ahead and then back at you suddenly. “Ah, Y/N, you might want to look ahead!”

You turned at the last second, not paying attention to the cluster of rocks up ahead, the little mare sidestepping to save you both quickly. However, since you had let go of the reins, your balance wasn’t as steady with the lack of direction. Scrambling to grab them, you pulled a little too much to steady her and suddenly she threw her shoulder forward, your body rolling off neatly into the sand.

For a second you sat there, trying to decipher why you were on the ground.

And then you laughed, the mare standing next to you and snorting at your odd behaviour.

“Are you alright?!” Minhyun asked, jumping down off his own horse and leading it over to your side. The instructor also came to check on you and you smiled brightly up at them both, nodding at their questions over your safety.

“I’m fine, I needed that wake-up call,” you told them, taking Minhyun’s hand and getting back up to your feet. There was a slight ache in your ankle from the dodgy landing, but you managed to get back up in the saddle, patting the mare in apology.

“And here I was worrying I was going to fall off today,” the tall boy beside you commented and you both grinned, though his eyes continued to search over you, ensuring you were truly okay.

It comforted you knowing there was someone at your side when you had taken your first fall in life in a while.

You had opted out of going sightseeing at some caves in the afternoon, your ankle now hurting a lot more than it had earlier on. You had been checked out due to Minhyun’s insistence at lunchtime and the local hospital had assured it was a simple sprain. You had been given instruction to let it rest today, and that was it, Minhyun somehow managing to convince you that resting was all you would be doing now. He hadn’t been in your life for more than four hours now and you found he fell into it effortlessly, despite his nagging at you over your injury.

And so despite having seen more than enough of it, you both had walked out to the beach, taking a seat in the sand and staring out, the deep blue reaching as far as you could view it. Your conversation flowed from topics over likes and dislikes, and you discovered a mutual love for books and literature. You both held office jobs and lived alone in Seoul, with a small group of close friends. But there were differences too, he liked spicy food and you didn’t, and he liked to clean as a hobby, whilst you begrudgingly designated Thursday evening as your only time in the week to briefly tidy up before heading home to your family the following evening. It was nice to be able to talk about yourself to someone you didn’t know, and know there wasn’t judgement passed from either of you.

“I’m sorry you’re missing out on the caves,” you mentioned after you finished discussing a bit about your family and Minhyun waved his hand at you.

“Don’t be, I’m more comfortable here.”

You smiled, this was better than following along with the others and their loud chatter and photo taking.

“How’s your leg feeling?” he asked and you looked down at it, noticing the swelling had lessened a little. Minhyun had insisted on you placing your foot up as soon as you had sat down and had placed his bag down on the sand and then took his shirt from around his waist off for an impromptu footrest. Thanks to his quick thinking, you were feeling less pain.

“It’s looking a lot better than before, don’t you think? Maybe we could go do something else soon?”

“Like?” Minhyun rested his head on his knees, looking over at you. You smiled, liking how easy he seemed to be around you now. “Nothing involving a lot of walking, okay.”

“I saw a place we might both enjoy,” you said, trying to get to your feet. Minhyun was up first and held out his hand for you to take, steadying you in his strong grip. You placed your foot down on the sand and tested how much weight you could put through it, smiling brightly at being able to disperse yourself more evenly without the pain from earlier. “Oh good, it’s better!”

“Just take it easy though,” Minhyun instructed, handing you your bag and picking up his own belongings. You nodded too quickly at him and then walked off a bit, your fifth stride faltering and the pain flared back up in your leg. “I told you!”

His arms were around your waist and stopping you from falling for a second time today. Your breath hitched in your throat, and embarrassment coursed through you. His arms reluctantly let you go and you sighed. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. How far is this place from here?” Minhyun questioned and you looked up to the row of stores, noticing it further down the road. You pointed and he seemed to accept it was in walking distance, holding out his arm for you to brace against as you hobbled along.

The walk was silent, Minhyun watching that you took each step with the least amount of pressure through your leg, and you trying to focus on walking and not on his varying grip against you. It was tense and you were thankful for the shop arrival, a smile crossing both of your faces as you stepped in.

After greeting the clerk of the bookstore, Minhyun helped you down the three steps into the main floor of the building, both of you soaking in the reams of novels and non-fiction. For awhile you perused the shelves in your own worlds and you were able to use the shelving to hold yourself upright.

“Have you found something to read?” a voice asked, and you turned to Minhyun, a couple of books within his grip. You then nodded, holding up a thick novel. He smiled. “Should we go purchase them and then sit down?”

There was a small seated area and a couple of the chairs were occupied so Minhyun ushered you the couch, sitting down and then gesturing you to do the same. Without much thought, he then reached for your leg, your eyes widening in shock. He maneuvered you so your injured leg was propped up on his bag on his lap again and instantly pulled the book in his hand up to his face, his flush of colour over his cheeks barely noticed by you. All the same, you smiled to yourself, getting immersed in the story of your choice quickly.

Time passed and you both flicked from page to page, barely aware of each other. It was comfortable, and you soon forgot that you had only met him earlier in the day. You knew you would never allow someone back in Seoul into your world so easily as you had Minhyun, and you smiled to yourself as you thought this, your eyes glancing towards him and then back into your book.

From sitting so long and with your leg up in an unnatural position though, your bottom was starting to ache, and without diverting your eyes from the novel, you placed a hand down and shifted a little. It was as you did this that you realised your hand had accidentally placed over Minhyun’s, his own arm outstretched so he could be comfortable in his own seating. You went to pull back as soon as you were balanced again but his hand turned over and grabbed yours, making you freeze up at his touch. Your eyes snapped up to his, the deep umber of his eyes captivating you for a moment. He then went back to his book, his hand remaining attached to yours.

Smiling shyly, you bit your lip, liking the feeling of him against you, your attention struggling to fall back into the book in your hand.

“Maybe the change we needed in ourselves is here,” he said softly, not lifting his eyes from the book but you could tell he wasn’t reading anymore.

Glancing down at his hand again in yours, you noticed his thumb was running over the back of yours lightly. You felt every part of you awakening in a way you hadn’t expected to feel at another person’s touch.

“I think you might be right,” you answered, Minhyun biting his lip to suppress an elated grin, his eyes trying to take in the words in front of him unsuccessfully.

You had escaped to Jeju without knowing what you needed in life and now with your hand in his, you realised you had a growing sense of hope for your remaining stay on the island, and further, for a new element to your daily life.

Someone who would change the old out and introduce something new, allowing you to start dreaming again.

_________________

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[misssophiachase]

Caroline's ex sells her stuff and klaus ends up buying a painting that was a heirloom. Caroline tracks him down.

In Loving Memory

Thanks luv! What an amazeballs prompt, I hope I did it justice : )

Sante Fe, New Mexico - 106 degrees

To say Caroline Forbes was a little frustrated was an understatement. Canyon Road seemed to stretch for dusty, red miles and one art galley seemed to turn into another. Pity none of the ones she’d already passed were her destination and the fact the weather was a dry 100 plus degrees and steadily climbing was doing nothing to help the situation.

Granted, yes, she was a highly strung individual but after searching for months and making the long trip from mild Boston to claim what was rightfully hers, Caroline figured she’d been unusually patient. Now was the point she was beginning to lose it. 

“Looks like you could use some water,” an unexpected voice said under the verandah. She stared blankly at the stranger, a little girl with messy, blonde pigtails and big, brown eyes. “You know agua?” She persisted, pretending to drink from her hand. 

“I’m..” she paused, her eyes landing on the street number and realising this was her destination. Finally. “Actually, yes, that would be nice.” The girl gestured for her to come forward, excitedly waving her hand and racing inside.    

She ascended the four steps and followed her inside, the cool breeze from the air conditioner welcome in her current frazzled state. The floors were polished hardwood and the walls littered with paintings, not that she was expecting any less. She was taken aback by just how stunning they were. Each landscape and portrait seemed to come to life in front of her eyes. 

Caroline shook her head, telling herself that she was here for a purpose. Unfortunately she hadn’t managed to find what she was looking for on the walls. 

“Here.” The little girl interrupted, shoving the glass into her hands. She sent her a small smile and took a sip, relishing in the relief she felt as it cascaded down her dry throat. 

“Thank you…”

“Lexi,” she finished. “That’s my name.”

“Well, hello there Lexi,” she offered her free hand and shook her tiny one gently. 

“What’s your name?”

“It’s Caroline,” she explained. “I’m actually looking for someone. I was wondering if you could help me?”

“Who?”

“Niklaus Mikaleson, do you happen to know him?” The little girl giggled mischievously, her cheeks colouring slightly. 

“That’s my dad but most people call him Klaus. Well, except for my Aunt Rebekah when she’s mad and my Uncle Kol when he’s teasing and my Uncle Elijah pretty much all the time.”

“Sounds like you’ve got a big family there,” she chuckled as the little girl nodded, her pigtails bobbing up and down. She’d arrived in such a hostile mood but for some reason this little girl bearing agua had made her decidedly less grouchy. “So, where is your dad?”

“He’s out the back, painting again.”

“You mean he did all of these?” She squeaked, taking in the combined beauty of the surrounding artwork. 

“Pretty much, dad says it makes him feel good.” Caroline wished at that point she had something to make her feel good. Lexi took her hand unexpectedly and lead her through the hall and into a Spanish style courtyard. If the scenery over the valley from this vantage point didn’t take her breath away the man standing by the easel did. 

He was staring intently at the canvas, paintbrush in hand. If the crimson lips, stubble and dimples weren’t enough of a distraction, his white shirt was only half buttoned, a toned chest peeking out from within.  

“Dad!” Lexi yelled, breaking not only her trance but his obviously. His blue eyes flickered over her body curiously. Caroline suddenly feeling a little underdressed in her short, floral dress.  

“Let me guess, she lured you in with that whole water excuse?” He asked, pointing to the empty glass in her hand. 

“I was thirsty,” she offered a little defensively, wondering where her bold, negotiating skills had disappeared. Maybe if he’d just do up a few more buttons she could retrieve them. 

“This is my daughter’s ploy to try and bring in extra business,” he explained, giving Lexi a knowing look. “I’ve told her it’s incredibly misleading.”

“What does misleading mean?”

“You know exactly what it means,” he chided. “You’ve been around Aunt Rebekah for too long.”

“The one who calls you Niklaus when she’s mad?” Caroline asked, noting the slight blush that crossed his face. Like father, like daughter. 

“Did I mention that my daughter loves to talk?” Lexi gave an exasperated sigh. 

“I don’t know, she seems to be the best asset you’ve got,” Caroline grinned, sending Lexi a knowing smile. 

“Ouch,” he groaned, thumping his bare chest and pretending to be wounded. “Any chance you could get me a glass of water, sweetheart?” She regarded him dubiously before running back inside. 

“I think someone is intimidated by his own daughter,” Caroline raised her eyebrows. 

“You don’t know the half of it,” he sighed, placing his brush on the nearby table and moving towards her. “Is there something I can help you with, love?”

“I’m looking for a painting.”

“Well, you came to the right place,” he smirked, wiping his paint stained hands on his jeans. “Anything in particular that took your fancy?”  

“Actually something has,” she began trying to ignore his increasingly close proximity. “But it doesn’t seem to be here.” He looked at her quizzically. 

“Well, then I’m not sure I can help you then,” he shot back, his tone telling her that she’d offended him. 

“These artworks are beautiful,” she said, attempting to placate him. Given she wanted something, offending the owner of her much loved painting wasn’t the best way to go about it.

“Okay, what do you really want then?” He asked slyly, almost like he could read her mind. 

“The Bill Forbes original,” she managed to utter, her father’s name still causing numbness. “It should be mine.”

“I’m sorry?” He asked, taking a seat at the nearby table. “Last time I checked, I paid handsomely for that painting.”

“I know,” she conceded, joining him on the other side. “But I’m willing to buy it for whatever price.”

“If I could give you any tips, I’d suggest you don’t offer anything, you know it’s called bartering.” She didn’t respond immediately, in fact she was madly trying to keep her composure. This ass had no idea what this painting meant to her but she wanted it back. Caroline wasn’t quite sure she could live without it in her life, it meant too much.

“How about we cut the bullshit,” she muttered in frustration. “I’ve travelled all the way from Boston. Just tell me how much you want?”

“I’m sorry you’ve come so far, Miss, but that painting isn’t and never will be for sale.”

“But I need it,” she implored, her blue eyes boring into his. As if the struggle to find the painting hadn’t been enough but now she had to endure another setback. It was almost too much to comprehend. 

“Why?”

“Excuse me?”

“Well, you seem extremely attached to it and I’m wondering why?”

“I am,” she rasped almost helplessly. “If you insist on goading me then I’ll tell you. Bill Forbes was my father.”

“You mean?” He asked, clearly shocked and leaning forward in his chair. “The little girl in the painting is…”

“Me.” Caroline was on the verge of crying but for some reason she didn’t want him to see that so kept her eyes downcast. 

“But why…”

“Don’t I have the painting?”  She asked, predicting his question. “Someone sold it without my knowledge.”

“But how?”

“My ex boyfriend Stefan thought it would be a novel thing to do seeing as I called it quits. Funny joke, hey?” She could feel a hot, salty tear followed by another running down her cheeks. So much for keeping her composure. “And I’ve been trying to get it back ever since.”

“Now I understand,” he murmured, his hand reaching out for hers. Caroline would never forget the feeling of his rough and calloused fingers on her skin. “And not just because your ex-boyfriend is a serious ass.“

“That’s putting it nicely,” she muttered.

“But just so you know, I’m going to need some identification for handover. As much as I love my daughter’s intuition, she’s only six.”

Caroline wiped the tears from her eyes and finally met his gaze, even through the waterworks, she knew he was being sincere. “How much do you want?”

“Nothing,” he answered. “But how about a date?” 

“Seriously?”

“I’m deathly serious,” he smirked, squeezing her hand. “I haven’t been on one in over six years so if you could show me the ropes, I’d appreciate it. If not for me then my nosy siblings and daughter.”

“I suppose that could be arranged,” Caroline grinned, realising that if his hand stayed on hers forever she wouldn’t mind. “But I’m curious.”

“About?”

“Why did you want that painting so badly?”

“That father-daughter moment reminded me so much of me and Lexi,” he admitted, his hand still firmly placed upon hers. “I didn’t want to forget the way she looked at me so adoringly and that picture was exactly what I needed to know even if she grows up we’ll still share that moment.”

“The terrible teens?” Caroline joked. “Okay, so how about we organise a sharing arrangement?” She proposed, her fingers exploring his skin freely now.

“Between Massachusetts and New Mexico?” He baulked.

“I’m sure we can make it work somehow.” Their hands were now firmly entwined and for some reason it didn’t feel like that bond could ever be broken. 

Turns out it wasn’t that difficult to manage especially with the little girl that brought them together unbeknownst to them. Lexi loved to claim credit and funnily enough no one was going to argue. The painting that brought them together was hung in pride of place and, believe it or not, they lived happily ever after.  

[gettraughtgetdead]

Unreliable Narrators

Jade’s phone buzzed with a notification from The Slap. Beck Oliver has posted a new status. ‘Asked my dad what he wants for Father’s Day. He said, “For you to break up with Jade.” He’s still mad about the whole dog attack thing.’

So to celebrate 100 followers (!) I’m posting this here before I post it anywhere else. This is the first chapter of a fic I’m planning but I haven’t actually written any more of it yet. I adore missing moments type fics, but I feel like everything that can be done has been done. Also, Every Story Is A Love Story is just little moments between them without any real plot, so I didn’t want to do another fic like that, at least not at the same time. So, without further ado, here is the first chapter of Unreliable Narrators. I’m not sure how long it will be but I’ll probably do chapters for at least a couple more episodes. Hope you like it x Full chapter under the cut. 

Jade dropped her bag by the door and walked into the kitchen to make herself some coffee. Beck followed her in and hopped up to sit on the counter next to the coffee machine.

‘Really, Jade, more coffee?’ Kevin asked as he walked through the living room towards Jade and his son.

‘It’s been a long day.’ Jade didn’t meet Kevin’s eyes, she still found it hard to look at him. His stitches had come out last week, but his arms were still scratched and scarred.

‘What did Tori do this time?’ Kevin teased. Behind Jade’s back, Beck widened his eyes, making a cutting motion at his neck. His dad looked at him curiously, but didn’t do anything to steer Jade away from her rant.

As the coffee machine worked its magic, Jade turned to look at Kevin, leaning back against Beck’s legs. ‘She stupidly let Robbie do a piece on her skin problems!’

‘What?’

Beck rolled his eyes, running his hands through his girlfriend’s hair to soothe her, he calmly explained to his confused father. ‘Robbie was about to get kicked off The Slap when Tori gave him the idea to start a gossip blog. Now he’s pestering all of us, and sending his little minions around to film us all the time.’

‘And it’s super popular, so everyone at school has seen me whining about eating tuna for lunch and not showering last night!’ Jade screeched. She groaned and buried her face in her hands. ‘I can never show my face in school again.’

‘It’s not that bad, babe,’ Beck tried to placate her. ‘By tomorrow there’ll be new gossip for them to obsess over.’

‘Yeah, and it’ll invariably be about us! And since everyone thinks we screwed in the back of the movie theatre, it’ll probably be that I’m pregnant!’ Jade ranted.

Deciding it was better to just distract Jade than question this latest drama further, Kevin interjected. ‘So, it’s been a few weeks since we’ve hung out together, your mom and I were thinking we could do board games or something tonight. What do you guys think?’ he asked.

‘Um…’ Jade looked up at Beck, her eyes begging for an escape.

‘Sounds great! After dinner?’ There was no way he had misinterpreted, he was doing this on purpose.

‘We’ll be in the RV.’ Jade grabbed Beck’s hand, dragging him behind her until they were finally alone.

‘What the hell was that?’ Jade snapped.

‘This is getting ridiculous! You’ve been avoiding my parents for weeks. My dad isn’t mad about the dog thing, he never was!’ Beck exclaimed, his frustration bubbling over. He hadn’t spent any real time with his parents since his dad had gotten out of hospital because Jade couldn’t face them.

‘He got mauled! And it was my fault!’ He could see on Jade’s face how much this bothered her, he hadn’t realised before. He took both of her hands in his and led her over to the couch.

‘Babe, it was an accident. We all know you didn’t mean for it to happen. I love you. My parents adore you. Nothing’s changed. I promise.’ He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. ‘I miss being able to hang out with my parents without feeling like I’m leaving you out. Please come.’

Jade sighed. She never could say no to those eyes. ‘Fine.’ Beck smiled, kissing her pouted lips. ‘Say you love me,’ she demanded.

‘I love you, Jade West,’ he declared. Jade just rolled her eyes trying to supress a smile.

Later that evening, after they’d all sat around the table for dinner, they moved into the living room. Beck and Jade set up Monopoly on the coffee table, moving the sofas closer so that the board was within easy reach and doling out the money, while Priya and Kevin loaded the dishwasher.

‘So,’ Beck clapped his hands once as his parents joined them in the living room, taking the armchairs on the other side of the table from the sofa where he and Jade sat. ‘Are we doing teams or on our own?’

‘On our own,’ Jade said quickly. ‘I am a Monopoly shark and I don’t need you holding me back.’ She grinned. ‘No offense, babe.’

Beck narrowed his eyes at her in a mock glare while his parents laughed.

‘We’ll see about that,’ said Priya. ‘I don’t think anyone’s ever beaten Kevin at Monopoly.’

A few hours later, they saw that Jade’s boasts were not unfounded. ‘So, that would be fifty but since I have a hotel, it’s two thousand.’ Jade smiled smugly, holding her hand out for Kevin’s rent money.

‘Damn girl, why did we let her buy Mayfair?’ Kevin grumbled handing over the majority of his money. ‘I need to mortgage something.’

Thirty minutes later, Jade was officially declared the winner. Beck attempted to relieve the tension in the room with an innocent question. ‘So, Dad, what do you want for Father’s Day?’

‘For you to break up with Jade,’ Kevin huffed.

They were lying in bed in the RV when Jade’s phone buzzed with a notification from The Slap. Beck Oliver has posted a new status. Jade glanced at Beck lying beside her, he glanced at her phone screen and grinned. She swiped to read it.

‘Asked my dad what he wants for Father’s Day. He said, “For you to break up with Jade.” He’s still mad about the whole dog attack thing.’

‘Seriously, Beck? You swore he wasn’t mad!’ Jade sat up in bed, glaring down at her boyfriend.

‘Babe, relax. He isn’t mad, I just thought we should give the student population of Hollywood Arts something new to gossip about.’ Beck grinned.

Well, that wasn’t a bad idea. Jade smiled, laying back down with her head on Beck’s chest. ‘Maybe you’re right.’

Beck looked at Jade out of the corner of his eye. ‘I know that look. What are you planning?’

‘I think it’s time we take control of our own narrative.’

[the-wheel-comes-full-circle]

Chapter 23 of the Snowball

Sorry for still being ridiculously slow at updating this! I don't really plan what will happen in each chapter so I just daydream until I know what I want to happen next and depending on stress levels, daydreaming doesn't always come easily.

Link to previous chapters X

Rhys had called everyone home and into the living room and explained to them what had happened so Feyre didn't have to.

Mor currently sat beside her, one arm wrapped around Feyre's blanketed shoulders, while Feyre sipped a hot chocolate Cassian had made for her.

Rhys was pacing by the front window which only served to unnerve Nesta who had been staring blankly at a wall for the past twenty minutes. On the surface she looked calm, but Feyre could see Nesta's hands fidgeting and picking at her nails obsessively.

"How long until we go looking for Lucien?" Azriel asked.

"We don't do anything until we know Lucien's situation. We may only make things worse." Rhys replied quickly.

"Surely there's someth-" Mor began saying before she was interrupted by a quick knock on the front door.

Everyone was on their feet instantly.

Feyre dropped her blanket and stumbled after Rhys into the hallway and to the front door. She could feel her pulse pounding in her neck with anticipation and fear of what would happen if it wasn't Lucien.

Rhys had one hand on the door handle, about to open the door, when he looked back at Feyre to meet her eyes reassuringly, and giving her a small grin.

Feyre felt silly for worrying as she immediately spotted Lucien's bright red hair from over Rhys's shoulder.

But something was wrong. Rhys's shoulders immediately tensed up and blocked any further view of the doorway that Feyre had.

Feyre huffed and placed a hand along the side of Rhys's torso to wedge her way out between him and the hallway wall. When she saw Lucien her heart stopped. The look of disappointment and shame on his face was enough to tell her everything.

Elain was nowhere to be seen.

"Where is she?" Feyre demanded, dangerously calm.

"I'm sorry Feyre. I don't know." Lucien said, his head dropping at the last minute, unable to meet her eyes.

"What do you mean you don't know?" Nesta practically screeched from behind them.

Lucien flinched but made no attempt to answer her.

Feyre turned back to her sister in desperation, only to see Cassian visibly restraining Nesta from launching herself at Lucien.

"Well go back out there and find her!" Mor said.

"I tried. Hybern must have been watching me. He knew somehow." Lucien loosed a shuddering breath before continuing. "She was supposed to still be at work in the office but when I got there she was gone and her desk was cleared. I raced home but all her things were gone from her room as well."

Feyre felt the world starting to slip out from beneath her. How could Hybern always be one step ahead of them?

She felt Rhys's hands reaching for her to pull her against him but she stepped away. She felt Rhys's confusion but she couldn't have him distracting her right now. She needed action.

"No. There has to be something we can do. Elain can't just be gone!"

"Can't we call the police?" Nesta asked, finally calm enough for Cassian to release her.

"Not a chance. Hybern pays off too many of them." Lucien said.

"I'm going to find her." Feyre said, reaching for her jacket.

"No you're not. You don't even know where to look." Rhys said, grabbing for her jacket at the same time Feyre did.

They both held the jacket between them, gazes locked, as Feyre's anger battled for control over Rhys's cool demeanour and reasoning.

No one said anything as they watched the two in fascination.

Finally, Feyre sighed and mumbled under her breath, "Well I can't just do nothing."

Rhys let the jacket drop to Feyre's side. "I know. But we can't rush into this. It could only make things worse. We know employees within Hybern's industry, we can talk to them and see if they know anything. But we are not putting anyone else's safety at stake." He finished firmly.

Numbly, Feyre nodded and allowed Rhys to guide her back to the living room. The other's followed, leaving Lucien standing awkwardly in the doorway.

Feyre glanced back. "Are you coming?" She called out to him.

Lucien seemed surprised to be remembered, but he slowly nodded and made his way into the living room. Rhys gestured for him to take a seat anywhere but Lucien instead leaned his back against a wall where he could see everyone easily, his face the picture of unease.

Rhys merely shrugged and turned to Azriel, about to ask a question when another knock surprised them all.

Rhys rose first and motioned for them all to stay where they were while he went to answer the door. Feyre remained seated for exactly one second before getting up and following Rhys.

She entered the hallway just in time to see Rhys nearly slam the door in someone's face. He was stopped by a man's strong forearm which had reached out to hold the door open.

"Wait!" The man pleaded and Feyre's anger flooded back to her as she stared in shock.

"Tamlin?"

"Feyre! I need to talk to you, call off your dog." Tamlin said through gritted teeth as he continued to hold the door open against Rhys.

"Feyre you don't have to talk to him if you don't want to." Rhys told her calmly, sounding like it was no struggle at all for him to keep most of the door shut against Tamlin.

"No, I want to know what it is he's here for. What else can he do to me, he already took my sister." Feyre said icily.

Tamlin stumbled but managed to keep the door open a sliver. "Like I was saying, if Feyre would just come out here and see-"

"She's not going anywhere near you." Cassian growled suddenly appearing behind Feyre.

Feyre placed a placating hand against Cassian's chest to hold him back. "It's fine Cass. Go back inside and check on Nesta for me?"

Cassian looked like he would argue but with a roll of his shoulders he turned around and went back down the hallway.

"You've trained them all now." Tamlin said in surprise. "Including Lucien if my sources are to be believed." Tamlin said with a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"Tamlin my patience is running out." Feyre tapped her foot pointedly.

"And so is his arm strength I would say." Rhys said smugly.

Enraged Tamlin let go of the door and Rhys had to pull back quickly to stop it from slamming shut, despite how much he might have liked to.

"I just came here to drop off something I thought you would want. I didn't ask to be treated like this." Tamlin grumbled.

Rhys bristled. "Maybe you should have asked Feyre how she felt under your treatment of her."

But Feyre had stopped cold at Tamlin's words. "Rhys stop." She said quietly.

"That got your attention." Tamlin muttered before turning away and making his way down the front porch steps.

Feyre made to follow him and was quickly shadowed by Rhys. They followed Tamlin outside to his car where he made his way around to the passenger side door, opening it and allowing a small, bundled up person to get out.

Even beneath all the jumpers and scarves, Feyre recognised Elain. She tried to remain calm but her relief at seeing her safe and well was too much and Feyre dropped all pretense of being calm as she sprinted for her sister.

Elain let out a surprised squeak as Feyre hurtled into her, bowling both of them over into one of the remaining melted snow patches on the front lawn.

Elain giggled as Feyre held her. "Feyre! It's so good to see you. It's been months, my god where have you been?"

Feyre laughed, "long story."

Elain seemed perfectly fine, happy even. Could it be possible she didn't even realise the danger she was in?

Feyre was jolted from her line of thinking when a third shape collapsed on them and Feyre recognised Nesta's lithe form holding tightly onto both Elain and Feyre.

"Nesta's here too?" Elain asked innocently, but smiling brightly at their eldest sister.

Distantly, Feyre heard a car door shut and she looked up in time to see Tamlin pulling away from the house. They locked eyes as he left and Tamlin offered her small nod before he disappeared down the street.

"Well. That was unexpected." Rhys said, from a few metres away.

Elain finally noticed him, eyes widening and giggling as she whispered to Nesta behind cupped hands, "who is that?"

Nesta rolled her eyes mockingly before mock whispering back, loud enough for Rhys to hear, "Feyre's boyfriend."

Feyre playfully hit Nesta on the thigh which only served to make Elain giggle harder.

Rhys pretended he hadn't heard anything as he reached down a hand to pull Feyre up. He then offered his hand to Elain who turned crimson red but accepted his help. Rhys looked as if he meant to help Nesta up as well but one look at her face had him placing his hand back into his pocket as she got to her own feet.

"Elain?" Came Lucien's disbelieving voice.

"Lucien?" Elain beamed up at him standing in the doorway. "Is there anyone else here that I should know about?" She joked.

Nesta trailed behind Elain cautiously as she went to greet Lucien by throwing her arms around his neck which seemed to surprise no one more than Lucien himself.

Feyre smiled watching them, before reaching for Rhys's hand. He gladly gripped her hand back and moved closer so they were sharing the same body heat in the cold.

Feeling as if she could finally relax, Feyre tipped her head until it was leaning against Rhys's shoulder, hoping that he wouldn't realise she was standing on her tiptoes to reach it.

"What did Tamlin say?" She asked quietly. Aware that while she had been preoccupied with Elain, she had heard Rhys talking with Tamlin.

"Nothing too useful. Just about how much he was risking by bringing her here and how thankful we should be."

Feyre snorted at how ridiculously childish Tamlin still was.

"But..." Rhys continued. "He did say that he had no part in Elain being brought so close to Hybern. The second your sister was brought into this he tried to find a way to stop it."

"That doesn't mean I should forgive all the things he's done in the past."

"Of course not. In fact I hope you never forgive that bastard, but it would be wrong of me if I didn't tell you why he brought Elain back."

Everyone had now gone back inside the house, presumably because it was so cold outside and Feyre shivered in her wet clothes from the fall with Elain.

"Come on, let's get you inside and warmed up." Rhys said, rubbing some warmth back into her arms.

But Feyre had other plans as she turned to face Rhys, hands reaching up to bury themselves in his hair. He grinned crookedly at her as he brought his own hands down so they were skimming her side, from her ribs down to the widening of her hips.

Feyre thought she heard Mor calling for her within the house but her head was stopped from turning as Rhys cradled her jaw, thumb skimming over her cheekbone, as he brought his mouth down to hers.

She forgot anyone had been calling for her as she returned Rhys's kiss. Hands locking behind his neck so she could pull herself up to reach him better. Rhys's mouth had just opened beneath hers, a low moan beginning in the back of his throat, when a snowball hit them both squarely across the face.

"Found them!" Came Cassian's voice from in front of the house.

Rhys glared at Cassian but Feyre laughed as she wiped the remaining snow from Rhys's face. When he turned back to her his eyes were soft again, a memory dancing across his vision, as Feyre also remembered the first time they had met.

"We should go back to the others." Feyre said quickly.

Rhys looked disappointed but the joy in his eyes didn't fade as he took Feyre's hand and led them back inside, ignoring Cassian's gagging noises.

[delicioussshame]

More dating fic. My thanks to everyone leaving my notes. I don’t usually write wips, so that change of pace is nice.

Part 1 - Part 2

People gossip and giggle during the next class he shows up at, but they don’t do much more. That’s nothing he can’t handle. If anything, if his classmates are distracted in class, he’ll be higher in the overall ranking. Plus, it’s not like his college friends mind. They’re not the problem.

He toys with his phone. He really needs to stop ignoring said problem and start placating his basketball friends before Kise-kun decides to imitate Aomine-kun and shows up to pick him up, leaving a trail of dazed fangirls behind him. The last thing he wants is being obligated to deliver love letters to him.

He doesn’t know what Aomine-kun was even thinking. No, the messages did not die down. Well, the people with sense have understood that he'd prefer to be left alone, but that makes, what, three of them?

Tetsuya keeps bad company.

As if to prove him right, Nakamura-san launches into her next attempt at trying to get Aomine-kun to come to their study group (Ha!), never mind that they have no class in common, or that he’s not a student at their college, or even that they’re in different fields of study altogether. She just wants him to be there so that he has to go drink with them afterwards, which is Not happening. To begin with, Tetsuya does not drink anymore. He’s not letting that kind of mess happen again.

That’s the reason he used to turn Kagami-kun down the other day. He hopes Aomine-kun enjoys his efforts to his cause, because the absence of denial over what happened the other day was noted. Oh, was it noted. Not saying anything did exactly was he thought it would: fuel the fire. Even via phone he could tell Kagami-kun was both incredibly amused and completely disturbed now that he has gotten used to the idea.

Tetsuya sighs. If only he could tell Aomine-kun to go fuck himself and tell everyone the truth; that they were both incredibly drunk and that Aomine-kun is just that bored. He always bored easily. People would believe it. They’d be considerate and trash talk Aomine-kun with him. Kise-kun would tell him about that one time he went to an industry party and slept with a fashion journalist and now is deadly worried he’ll read about his performance in the pages of a magazine. Everyone would make fun of him and agree that’s way worse and they’d all forget it ever happened.

Okay, half of them would act like it never happened and the other half would remind him of it constantly, but no one would take it seriously. Tetsuya could just bury that stupid crush down until, well, not until it fades, that hasn’t been working out, but until someone new comes around or Aomine-kun gets married, it seems.

Back to class. He has to focus. He can’t keep wasting time worrying about the inevitable

_________________

Hey, there’s a party on campus Friday night and I told everyone I was bringing my date.

That’s you, by the way.

Oh god, what now.

Why.

Practise.

…What.

What do you mean, practise?

We’ll have to be convincing when we meet people, right? So, practise.

Practise… to fool our friends credibly?

Really?

Yeah! Now you’re getting it. They’ll be some people we know, like that dude from Kaijou and some of Midorima’s old teammates, but it should be ok. Ryou’ll be there too, you two can be polite at each other.

Tetsuya guesses there are worse things than going to a party, one of which would be trying to convince Aomine-kun to stop going down this dark, dark path. He’ll be invisible anyway.

Fine.

Great! Come over.

Now what.

I feel like I’m repeating myself, but why

Practise! To be convincing at the party.

We’re… practising for practise? Do you realise that makes no sense.

Do you want to look ridiculous at the party? Or like you’re a terrible date?

Well, no.

See? Come to place after class. I’ll have pizza.

And that’s how it is, because Tetsuya has proven time and time again that he cannot say no to Aomine-kun.

_________________

“Hey. Want some pizza?”

Tetsuya takes the offered slice. What else is he going to do? “Thank you.”

He sits down on the couch with his pizza, fidgeting. Can’t Aomine-kun see that Tetsuya has no idea how to play this whole thing painlessly? What does he even want?

“So, convincing couple! How do we do it?”

“You’re asking me?”

“Who else am I gonna ask?”

“Don’t ask anyone!

Aomine-kun pouts at him. Oh god. Why. “C’mon, you said you’d play along.”

Tetsuya did not, in fact, say so, but reminding him of that wouldn’t help. “I have no idea how to help you. Don’t call me here if you don’t know why.” How does one look lovey-dovey? Does Aomine-kun want him to give pet names or, or hold his hand in public!? He couldn’t. It wouldn’t be proper. He’s blushing just thinking about it.

“Hey, perv, stop blushing. No matter how much you beg for it, I’m not going to defile you in public. Not that it wouldn’t work, but I have principles.”

Defile!? Plus, he’s obviously lying. Tetsuya has photographic evidence to the contrary. “You’re the only one with such a perverted mind. I was just embarrassed on your behalf. To think you’re already unsure how to continue that scheme of yours.”

“Hey! I don’t need help. I was just asking to be polite. I know exactly how to make us look genuine.”

Tetsuya doesn’t trust the purr in his voice at all. “Why call me at all then?”

“Maybe I just wanted to see you.”

DANGER. DANGER. ABORT MISSION, I REPEAT, ABORT MISSION. “I’m flattered, really, but I have a report to hand over soon, so if you don’t need me here I’m going back home.”

Aomine-kun looks at him and sighs. “I really don’t get you.”

..What does that have to do with anything? “I don’t understand you either.” And if some of his confused bitterness comes through, there’s nothing he can do about it.

Aomine-kun smirks. “See, we’re well matched.”

“Then no one will have trouble believing we’re a couple. Congratulations. Your scheme is back on track.”

“So all we have to do is argue in public and then make up. I’m pretty sure we can make that work.”

Well, if he uses Midorima-kun and Takao-kun as examples, maybe Aomine-kun is right. “So that’s taken care of. I’m leaving now.”

“Do you have to?”

“Yes. Stop whining. We’re going to see each other again soon. There’s that party, right?”

Aomine-kun visibly cheers up. Tetsuya feels himself melt. “You'd better have cleaned up nicely. Can’t have you shame me in public.”

Tetsuya doesn’t even bother to answer him. He just waves him goodbye as he leaves.

_________________

“Are you seriously dating Aomine? Like, seriously? You’re not that ugly. You could totally do better.”

Aomine-kun had not told him that Wakamatsu-senpai would be there. “Are you making a pass at me? I must warn you, Aomine-kun is the jealous type.” He isn’t, as far as Tetsuya can tell, but maybe it will deter Wakamatsu-senpai.

In fact, Aomine-kun, that jerk, is trying and failing to look like he’s not realising what’s happening. He’s chatting with some people Tetsuya doesn’t know, just a few metres away. Tetsuya knows he’s aware of him because every few seconds he turns toward him and stifles his laughter with another swallow of his beer.

“What the hell! I’m not! Who would go for Aomine’s sloppy seconds.”

Tetsuya frowns. That’s just rude.

“Hey! Be polite to Tetsu, asshole.”

Of course, now is when Aomine-kun decides to make his presence known. “Aomine-kun, don’t bother.”

Alas, it is already too late. Wakamatsu-senpai took Aomine-kun’s intervention with his usual grace, except that Aomine-kun is now responding to him with equal vitriol. At this point, Tetsuya just hopes it doesn’t come to blows.      

_________________

Kuroko, tell me Aomine didn’t really punch a guy to defend your honor last night.

Tetsuya really wishes he could say just that. Sadly, he can’t.

To think he hasn’t even met one of his closer friends in person yet.

This is not going well.

Part 4

[cianmarsfanfiction]

Cherry Wine (1/?)

Set a couple of months after Emma and Killian get married, the marriage has completely devolved and Emma starts to realise she’s a victim of domestic abuse. She tries to break free to where she know’s she’s safe. Warning: Abuse of all kinds. Anti-CaptainSwan, Anti-Hook.

FF (X)

Emma didn’t notice the change.

It crept upon her like a monster creeping under the bed, the change happened upon the two of them in a synced dance for power, and slowly Emma lost everything whereas he gained all. She had been in love, she was in love, true love… wasn’t she?

~OUAT~

She heard the door slam, she wasn’t sure if it was the actual smell or the memory of it which made her knew that he smelt like a distillery, not just his alcohol of choice he was no longer fussy with liquor he would take any. She felt her heart quicken as he walked up the stairs, his boots slamming down hard on the wood, she wasn’t sure if he was just drunk or was angrily drunk.

She heard him calling her name as he got up the stairs.

“Mrs Jones.”

She pretended to be asleep.

~OUAT~

Emma stood in the kitchen making pancakes. It was something she was trying her hardest to learn, cooking, she had never excelled at it – her parents had tried to teach her when she had lived with them, she had never really excelled at it and had been known to be able to burn water. But she tried. She wanted to be able to do something to contribute to their household, Henry spent most of his time with his friends or at Regina’s so often she would just be alone in the house, turning down offers to see people became second nature to her

“I, erm… I thought that I might go to my parents’ house tomorrow.” She said pleasantly. She held her breath. The air as always was intoxicating, the smell of alcohol and her attempts at cooking, she could feel herself chocking on it, slowly.

“No.”

That was it, no explanation, Emma hadn’t realised she was asking permission, but apparently she was. “It’s just my mom invited me, and I haven’t seen her in ages, and I figured I could probably help my dad out on his farm, not that I know the first thing about farming… I know you’re busy with work and now neither he nor I are at the station I figured…-”

That was another thing she thought in the back of her mind he had slowly convinced her to give up the sheriff position, which had fallen to her deputy to fill. He had convinced her at first she needed some time off, to relax after all the craziness which had happened in her life over the past couple of years. He had been her knight in shining armour. That time off had slowly lengthened she had demoted herself to deputy when he pointed out that she was extremely rusty after her time off. She had taken herself off from work completely when he had announced to their, her, family at a dinner one day while smiling down at her little brother that they’d be trying for their own child soon enough. That had blind sighted Emma, they had toyed around with the idea to the extent that he had strongly encouraged her to talk to Henry about it,

“Aye, and I said no!” He shouted, he spilt some of the rum he was pouring into a hip flask and growled in frustration, he didn’t notice his wife cower as he did, even if he had seen would he care? Probably not, he wasn’t a morning person. He stood up and strode towards her. He towered over her and raised his hand to point towards her face, he didn’t miss her flinch that time, he just didn’t care. He pointed at her busted lip and the yellow and green fusion of a bruise which was fading around it. “You think I don’t know that you’re trying to push me away? What do you think Dave and Snow would say if they saw you like this? They wouldn’t understand! We’re not like them, we’re not heroes, we might have been once before you turned to the darkness and sucked me in with you…” He trailed off deliberately. He placed his hand on her cheek and held tight, forcing her to look at him. “They don’t get us, Emma Jones,” he smiled when he said her name, it had taken him so long to win her, “they don’t get that this was both of our fault.”

Emma found herself nodding her head. She gave him a smile which didn’t meet her eyes. He was right. “I know, I’m sorry, I won’t go. I love you.” But those three words sounded like a question. So, she pulled him into a kiss, it was always a good distraction technique, plus he had to get to work so the kiss wouldn’t be able to turn into anything else.

Killian finally pulled back with a smile, he hadn’t noticed that Emma hadn’t been the one to pull away out of fear, she had simply tried to outlast him, she hadn’t enjoyed it, but what did that have to do with him? He picked up her phone from the counter. “I’ll let your mother know you can’t make it, that you’re ill,” he used his hook to brush one of the purple bags under her eyes, “you should get some rest you look tired.”

He slipped the phone into his pocket and left with it.

It might have been an accident, he might have thought it was his cell phone, and he was simply going to ring her mother, he didn’t mean to leave with her phone. It could have been an accident.

It wasn’t.

~OUAT~

He had knocked her walls down, like a wrecking ball, he was so proud of that. But she felt as though she was locked in a tower, guarded by a fire breathing dragon, and there was no way out.

The next few weeks only got worse. He would go out and get drunk every night, if she was lucky he would spend the night with someone else, she didn’t even feel jealous or betrayed about that, it was a grateful respite. When he was there it was like she was walking on eggshells, she tried to keep the peace but it worked less and less.

He hadn’t given her the cell phone back, eventually her parents and friends stopped calling the house, they’d tried to pop around but Killian had changed the locks so that even her key wouldn’t be able to get her in from the outside, and she was too ashamed of the shell she had become to pick up the courage to open the door or to just run.

Even Regina wouldn’t have been able to get in, Emma had put up a spell when they had first moved in to stop other magic users from ever getting in, it was Killian’s idea – he was worried about their family’s safety, he had claimed. He had claimed the same when he gave her a bracelet, he had found it in the bottom of his trunk from his years exploring the realms, it did the same job as the magic cuffs. She had put it on easily when he had confessed he was worried about her, and his own health, and had reminded her what had happened with David and the street lamp a few months previously.

But apparently Killian was keeping them placated enough to not worry too much about Emma.

She could only assume that it was her parents’ natural instincts which made them worry about her, they posted notes through but assumed no one was home, Emma couldn’t bring herself to throw them away. So, she kept them. Seeing her name written on them, in her parent’s scrawls, made her feel more like herself for a fraction of a second at least, she wasn’t just ‘Mrs Jones’. She was Emma.

~OUAT~

It was the notes which had been the breaking point. The worst and the best thing to happen.

Killian had found them. He had shouted, hit her, blamed her for things; for him being stuck in the town, for her ruining him, him not being somewhere sailing through the realms, he was no longer a pirate. And she apologise, through the hits, through the blames, the name calling.

But then he said something which was like ice water through her veins, she stopped apologising, she was still.

“Talk to them again, and I’ll kill them.” He threatened. “It wouldn’t be the first 'Charming’ I’ve killed.”

He hadn’t realised that that threat was enough to wake her up, he just left her bloody and bruised on the floor, while he went out again.

But Emma dragged herself up despite the pain. She threw together a bag, clothes she had had before she had got together with him, there were plenty, she remembered they had only been together since after Neal was born about nine months ago.

“A whirl wind romance.” Emma snorted to herself in the too big house, her first joke in months, it brought a sardonic smile to her face which was miles better than the empty scared smile. “True love.” She said just as sarcastically. She wanted to cry, but it would hurt too much, and she didn’t have much time.

She grabbed some photographs, none with him in them, her box of memories, the torn up notes from her parents. Her baby blanket.

She rooted through his drawers until she found the keys to her bug hidden in his sock drawer. She raced to the garage, ignoring the pain in her ribs and the rest of her body, she didn’t bother to shut the front door as she left the house. It had been shut for far too long.

~OUAT~

Across town on the outskirts, David and Snow sat cuddled together on the couch in their farmhouse, they weren’t talking or watching the screen of the television they both had their eyes on the picture of Emma. They had both been trying not to freak the other out, but neither were happy or comfortable with not having seen her in so long, despite Killian’s assurances that she was just sick or was busy working at the station. But they were at a loss as to what to do next.

David was about to open his mouth, to finally raise his concerns with his wife about their daughter, to admit there was something more going on when there was a knock at the door. David sighed as Snow left his arms and headed to answer the door, he’s speak to her when she was back. He glanced at the clock as he heard the door opened, he frowned, it was far too late for just normal visitors unless something was wrong. He got up from the couch and headed to the entrance hall.

His mouth fell open. “Emma.” He breathed out. At first it was because of just seeing her after so long, it was just so unbelievable. By the time he composed himself enough to notice the state she was in Snow was pulling her into the house and shutting the door shut behind her.

“Emma.” Snow’s hands went to Emma’s cheeks, though she made sure to be gentle. Her daughter looked completely different than she had the last time she had seen her, she knew what the injuries Emma looked to be from, but she hoped she was wrong for Emma’s sake. “Emma, baby, can you tell me what happened?”

Emma’s breath shuddered in her throat. She shook her head a little.

Emma’s right eye had obviously been punched it was already a deep purple and swollen the white of it was bloodshot, her nose was bloody but luckily not broken, and her lip was busted open and bleeding. Her bones looked almost skeletal as though she hadn’t had a good meal since the last her parents had seen her (which she hadn’t), he skin almost unnaturally pale (more suited to her mother’s famous fairy tale looks than her own), there were bags under her un-swollen eye, she looked more like a bad Halloween costume than the Emma Swan they knew and loved.

When she spoke, her voice cracked, as though she hadn’t spoken in weeks. “Can I stay with you guys for a little while?”

She didn’t really need to ask, she had a key to their place, and her own room perfectly decorated to her tastes. Her taste which was so different than the style she had recently adopted, like the clothes she was currently wrapped in, all bar her armour of her red leather jacket. She felt like she was being buried alive in them.

Tears rolled down from Snow’s cheeks, Emma’s reaction told her all she needed it to, the pirate had done this. “Of course you can.” She promised. “For as long as you need or want to.”

David stepped forward toward Emma, like his wife’s, his face was streaked with tears. Also like her he was full of anger, but when he spoke to Emma he spoke softly, he didn’t want to scare her. “Emma, where is he?”

Emma had been pretty expressionless, as though in shock, she kind of was. But David’s word’s had made her eyes grow wide, her face full of fear and worry. “No, dad, no please. Please don’t go, please just stay with me.” She wasn’t afraid of Killian’s threat to her parents, she knew they could easily fight him and win especially if he was drunk, she just wanted, needed, her parents to stay with her.

David held his hands up in a surrendering gesture. His voice stayed soft and calm as though talking to a spooked animal on the farm, or a scared child, more the latter than the former. “Okay, it’s okay, Em. I promise I’m not leaving you.” He watched her analyse his face to see if he was telling the truth, he hadn’t see her do that in so long, it was just as heart breaking as her physical injuries.

Emma slowly nodded her head, she wasn’t sure what to do next, she hadn’t thought this far when she had been racing to escape.

David and Snow led her into the living room, they had one of their silent eye conversations as they did so. They knew they had to find out what injuries Emma had, they’d most probably have to take her to the hospital to get her checked out as well, so they’d have to get Neal a sitter but that should be fairly easy. Not to mention getting Hook off of the street and preferable out of the town too.

“Em, I’m going to ring Leroy and Regina about getting,” he didn’t want to say his name and upset her, “the pirate away. Your mom’s gonna help you take a bath because I don’t think you’re going to be able to do it by yourself, then me, you, and your mother and going to decide what needs to be done next, okay?”

Emma nodded her head, him describing the actions which were going to happen helped ease her anxiety at least a little. She shakily undid her jacket and took it off, she was with her parents, she was safe, she didn’t need the armour.

Snow gasped when Emma took off her jacket and David found the room lacking air, so he couldn’t even do that. There was a huge cut down Emma’s bruised arm, as though done by a knife, or a hook.

Emma noticed what they were staring at. “That was an accident,” she tried to tell them, “he forgot the hook was on that hand.” She parroted his excuse he had delivered with flowers the next day, after a night spent in a bar, or with some other girl. He had always been good at the apologising, the gestures to make her think he was sorry and loved her, but none of those had appeared in the recent weeks, he probably realised he didn’t have to do it anymore.

They were looking at her like something had broke inside her. He had warned her about that, that they wouldn’t want some broken adult, they had an actual child who needed them not some failure of a 'saviour’. She remembered the way he had spit that word.

“No, baby, it wasn’t an accident.” Snow’s voice was kind yet firm. “And it wasn’t your fault. It’s okay, it’s all over now, he’s never going to hurt you again.”

Suddenly two pairs of arms were around her. Her parents holding her close to them, holding her together, yet gentle not to hurt her further, not before they figured out the extent of her injuries.

Her dad’s hand came up to cradle the back of her head, as it always did.

She finally broke down.

[idekman-ao3]

nothing says coffee like - frank/karen diner au

“There’s something distracting about the girl’s presence, as much as he tries to force abject disinterest. Her hair is long and blond, pulled up into a messy bun – he thinks he can see a pen buried in there somewhere – and she’s clearly exhausted. Distracted, too; she’s trying to pull on a jacket with one hand as she flips through revision cards with the other, mumbling facts under her breath as she goes.

When her hand reaches for the door handle, he realises it’s trembling.

‘Hey,’ he calls out, before he can stop himself. The girl turns, concern written across her features. ‘When did you last eat?’

She opens her mouth, lets out a long, unconvincing, uh that has him rolling his eyes.

‘If you don’t know, it’s been too long,’ he mutters, shaking his head. ‘Wait there.’”

FRANK CASTLE IS THE GRUMBLY LUKE DANES-ESQUE DINER OWNER. KAREN PAGE IS A TIRED STUDENT WHO NEEDS A NAP. so yeah here’s a diner au literally no one asked for. you can also read this here on my ao3. there’ll be a part 2 so follow for updates if you enjoy! 

There’s some student who’s been sat by the window for four hours and is still nursing the same cup of coffee. And sure, usually he’d be pretty lenient with this sort of thing. But the kid’s also taking up an entire table, bags and coats slung over various chairs, papers spread across the entire table top, a stack of folders shifting precariously every time someone comes in through the door.

He approaches, coffee pot in one hand, notepad and pen in the other. It’s a pointed gesture.

‘Refill?’ He asks, gruff. The kid looks up, face open and pleasant. Usually, a glare from Frank Castle is enough to scare off even the hardiest of students – but this kid just fuckin’ smiles, holds his coffee cup out.

‘Thank you,’ the guy chirps, all innocent and slightly distracted but all together quite genuinely polite. Frank wants to smack him upside the head with the coffee pot.

‘Can I get you anything else?'

‘Oh, no –’

‘Maybe some fries?’ Frank cuts in. ‘We do a great burger, too –'

‘No, honestly –’

The bell above the door chimes, interrupting the two of them. A gangly blonde breezes into the diner, bringing a waft of the day’s dry heat with them. She remains paused at the precipice until her eyes land on the student Frank’s attempting to harass into ordering some food. He looks inordinately grateful that she’s arrived.

‘Hey, Foggy – excuse me –’ the blonde shuffles past, leans over the table to press a quick kiss to the kid’s cheek and settles in opposite him, clearing herself a space of textbooks and papers.

‘Welcome to Frank’s,’ Frank mumbles, slamming the coffee pot down on the table, earning a startled jump from the pair. Deliberately, he clicks his pen against his notepad and hovers, poised to write. ‘What can I get you?’

‘Oh – just a coffee, please,’ the girl smiles absently, already beginning to haul books out from her own bag. The diner table is beginning to wilt under the combined weight of what looks to be the entire contents of the Columbia University library. He remains, stood, watches as she comes to look back at him, large blue eyes turned wide. He tries to his features into something a little friendlier. He fails. ‘And… some fries?’ The girl questions.

‘One plate of fries, coming up. I’ll get your coffee to you in a second.’

‘I can’t, Foggy. I can’t anymore. Please. Make it stop.’

Foggy enters Karen’s room to find her draped across every scrap of paper, textbook, notepad and revision card she’s collated across four years of study.  

‘Jesus Christ,’ he bleats. She raises her head to stare at him as he takes in the pit of chaos and study-inspired despair that is her room.

‘I’m dying!’

‘You’re not dying. You can't die of studying, it's not a disease.’

‘Who’s got a disease?’

‘No one,’ Foggy shouts down the hallway to Matt, who’s just come in, the door clicking shut behind him. ‘Karen’s just being a drama queen.’

She throws a balled up page of notes at him. They both watch as it lands a meter short and rolls, pathetically, to a stop at his foot.

‘Slander!’ She shouts.

‘Karen, we’re so close,’ Matt sighs, reaching for the door frame and slumping against it.

‘Two more days,’ Foggy chirps up, which only prompts another, admittedly dramatic, groan from the floor. ‘And then we’re done. Forever! You just need to – to get out of the house. Let’s go study somewhere.’

Karen finds her face screwing up even as she straightens, pushing herself up into a sitting position.

‘Like where?’

Matt tilts his head to one side.

‘I’m pretty sure the barista at the last Starbucks said Foggy and I were banned from every store in the tri-state area after last time.’

‘I told you they wouldn’t let you nap there,’ Karen huffs. ‘What about the place down the road – that cute coffee place with –’ she cuts herself off at the look on Matt’s face. ‘No! There too? Why? What did you do?’

‘Elektra –’ Matt starts up, which prompts a chorus of groans that he has to raise his voice to speak over; ‘Elektra chewed out the barista there and we’ve got a lifetime ban now.’

‘Ugh, Matt!’

‘Yeah, they took a picture and put it up on the wall and everything.’

‘Fine – fine,’ Foggy interrupts, desperately placating. ‘There’s that place on campus with the wifi…’ He trails off at the look on Karen’s face. ‘Not Brownie’s, tell me you didn’t get us banned from Brownie’s. They let everyone in.’

‘I may have plugged my laptop charger in – you know, the old one.’

‘The one with the frayed cable that I told you to replace sixteen times last week?’ Matt asks sternly, folding his arms across his chest. Even from behind his glasses she can see the judgement stamped across his face.

‘You blew the fuse, didn’t you?’

Karen buries her face in her hands.

‘Their electricity went down for, like, an hour.’

‘There must be somewhere within walking distance that we haven’t been banned from,’ Foggy groans, moving to slump down on Karen’s bed – and then, upon catching the bright-eyed look Karen sends him; ‘No, Karen –’

‘Come on!’

‘No, not again! Not after last time!’

‘It won’t be so bad when there’s all three of us! And there’s air-con! Please, Foggy, I’m melting in here, I took three showers today and I still feel sticky –’

‘I’m not going back to the murder diner, Karen!’

‘Now who’s being a drama queen,’ she grumbles, reaching up to wipe sweat off the back of her neck.

‘I heard someone did actually get murdered there once,' Matt pipes up.

'Exactly!' Foggy gestures. 'And, more importantly - they don’t even have wi-fi there! You know what they do have? An owner who spent three hours glaring at me.’

‘And bringing you sweet, sweet free coffee refills,’ she pushes, brushing straight past the way Foggy rolls her eyes at her. ‘A system we flagrantly abused for ages last time.’

Foggy slumps, feeling defeat in the air even as he turns to Matt.

‘Well, buddy, you’re the deciding vote.’ Matt’s mouth opens, and shuts. ‘Just a reminder, pal, we’re going into business together. This decision could very much decide our working relationship for the rest of our lives –’ the balled up notes connects with Foggy’s knee this time.

Finally, Matt shrugs.

‘You said they have air-con?’

‘Hopeless!’ Foggy cries, even as Karen lets out a smugly victorious ha that gets buried under Foggy’s groans.

The diner is a little less busy when the familiar faces – joined, this time, by a third – enter once again, but it’s still hot and sweaty enough that Frank’s irritation kicks up a notch at their presence. The trio spend a little time scoping out a table – the blonde insists they have a good amount of natural light, the bigger kid seems to have stipulations that they don’t sit too close to the counter and the third is complaining about a draft from the door, despite the fact it’s eighty-six degrees out. By the time they finally settle on the exact same table they were sitting at last time, Frank is ready to hit someone.

‘Can I get you guys anything to drink?’ He rumbles, pointedly slapping down three menus as he does so.

‘Three coffees, thanks,’ the girl responds, immediately. The menus don’t get a look-in.

‘Three coffees,’ he sighs. ‘Coming right up.’

It gets busy enough that he forgets to be irritated with the students until the night turns late, the diner empties and he realises the two boys are gone, leaving the girl behind. She’s plugged into some headphones, tapping her pencil anxiously against a textbook she’s scribbling on.

He sends David, the kid who helps him with serving on Saturdays, home around nine, and eventually the evening regulars filter out too. The girl remains. She’s devolved to chewing on her pencil, head almost literally buried in textbooks by this point.

‘Hey,’ he calls from the counter. She doesn’t respond. He can hear the tinny buzz of her music filtering out through her headphones from here. He gets a little closer, gives an awkward wave – then shakes his head at his own ridiculousness and goes to rap on the table top.

He watches her jump halfway out of her skin, textbook raised instinctively in a vague sort of self-defence, and immediately feels bad.

‘God, sorry,’ she breathes out, tearing her headphones. ‘I’m about ten cups of coffee deep,’ she tells him, unnecessarily; he’d poured all of them for her. His previous guilt abates somewhat; she’s jumpy as hell, clearly wired. ‘Feeling a bit – well, you know.’

‘We’re closing,’ Frank grunts.

‘Right – right, sorry,’ she breathes out. As she begins packing away books he wipes down the last few tables, grabs a broom to sweep up.

There’s something distracting about the girl’s presence, as much as he tries to force abject disinterest. Her hair is long and blond, pulled up into a messy bun – he thinks he can see a pen buried in there somewhere – and she’s clearly exhausted. Distracted, too; she’s trying to pull on a jacket with one hand as she flips through revision cards with the other, mumbling facts under her breath as she goes.

When her hand reaches for the door handle, he realises it’s trembling.

‘Hey,’ he calls out, before he can stop himself. The girl turns, concern written across her features. ‘When did you last eat?’

She opens her mouth, lets out a long, unconvincing, uh that has him rolling his eyes.

‘If you don’t know, it’s been too long,’ he mutters, shaking his head. ‘Wait there.’

When he emerges with a sandwich wrapped up in paper, she’s already protesting, hands held outward as if he’s threatening her with a knife, rather than the meal he’s wielding.

‘Oh, no – I’ve got no cash, on me, I –’

‘’S’on the house,’ he grumbles. When she doesn’t step forward, staring at her a little blankly, he moves to her, presses the sandwich into her hand.

‘Oh,’ she bleats at him. But then she recovers, shoots him a high-watt smile. ‘Thank you.’ She turns to leave – turns back again. ‘Sorry, for all the bother, with all our study stuff, and -’

‘It’s no problem,’ he tells her.

‘We won’t be bothering you any time soon – we’re just studying for tests and stuff, but it’s all done, soon. On Tuesday.’

‘Tuesday. Right.’

She nods, slow, once and again, tucks a strand of hair behind her ears. Her face is a little pink.

‘You know, you should get wi-fi in here.’

That has him lifting an eyebrow.

‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah – you’d have loads of people coming in.’

‘More students?’ He scoffs, immediate and acerbic.

She blinks at that, head rearing back and he realises, too late, how rude, how sharp, that had sounded. His mouth flaps open, casting for a way to sooth the sting – but the girl’s already turning, mumbling out a right, sorry, the door slamming behind her.

He watches her go down the street until she disappears from sight. Then he goes back to wiping tables.

He doesn’t see her again for three months.