#also I would have loved to see David do this task

[evenyouyouweirdo]

I don't usually think I could do better at a task because I think I would be a combination of Victoria and Ivo on a good day lol But THIS TASK was SO frustrating! The give a one minute lecture on the random year you've unknowingly picked like HOW THE FUCK WERE THEY ALL SO BAD!

And like Jenny got the FIRST YEAR OF THE ENGLISH CIVIL WAR

And Kiel got 1500 which is right after the Renaissance starts in most of Europe . And I mean even if I don't know specifics details about the middle age dates Ivo and Mae had like they couldn't find anything more to say about the middle ages? LIKE WHAT!

I'm also weirdly pissed on Frankie's behalf because I think they should have given him the there must be some sort of brutal English bastard as a king 'cause c'mon from a Scottish (and rest of the world perspective tbf) it's more than probably true. (and after checking that King was Henry V so that checks out completely)

[gallusrostromegalus]

I am constantly procrastinating working on my original fic by writing fanfic. Any advice for how to refocus and finish my novel?

Well. The novel probably needs a nap.

Procrastinating is a symptom that something is preventing you from doing the thing you "should" be doing. Most of the time it's an unrelated, but actually higher priority task like resting after an illness (society is fucking lying about anything else being more important) or filing your taxes (actually this one is pretty important).

...but if you're procrastinating on one creative project with another creative project, you're not procrastinating: something about the novel is off right now, the fanfic is more appealing to you.

Consider the following:

You may be writing fic because it brings you more joy than the novel. If you really want to get back to the novel, figure out what would make working on it more enjoyable. Engagement from a beta-editor? Skipping this really boring scene and coming back to it later? Adding more smut?

You may also be writing fic because it's got a lower spoon coat than the novel and you need to conserve your spoons right now. Any extra stress in your life? Moving? Toothache? Recovering from Covid? Annoying roommate? Sick family member? It's an election year? ANY of those could soak up extra spoons and make your novel too expensive for your spoons budget. Let it take a nap, and come back when you're feeling better.

You may be sharpening your artistic skills on a lower-stakes project before going back to the novel. This is pretty normal- even Michaelangelo took breaks to work on other pieces while sculpting The David, both for a change of pace and so he could try something out without fucking up the big block.

Fortunately, you're writing, so you can always try writing the challenging scene a dozen times in different docs or save the parts that were good but don't not in a spare parts bucket doc.

Or keep working on that fic, it's helping you learn on a subconscious level.

You don't love the novel right now. This is alright. This is usually temporary, and the solution is the same- put it aside and work on something else.

Maybe you are just bored of the novel. That's fine and normal, you just save all the documents to your hard drive and come back later. When the fic inevitably gets boring too, you'll come back to the novel and either go "oh hey this kicks ass!" And return to it with renewed enthusiasm.

...Or you'll come back to it and go "oh. This is actually a piece of shit" And that's okay too, because there's nothing more useless than polishing a turd, but that turd is still valuable as compost. You learned things writing it, and you can still rifle through the novel for good lines or scenes or turns of phrase and put those in your spare parts doc to ferment into The Good Shit in the back of your mind.

HOWEVER:

If you are experiencing a different phenomenon wherein you are actively distressed while writing the fic- either out of misplaced guilt, or the fic isn't actually fun you just feel compelled to do something, or absolutely every creative endeavor is stressing you out, you may be experiencing a serious mental or physical health issue and you should see your GP or a specialist ASAP. Pain is an indicator that something is wrong. Do not ignore your body's warning light.

That sounds really dramatic and hyperbolic but realizing I was not enjoying ANY creative work was the symptom that finally got me to sit down and go "huh. All these random pains, irregular sleep cycle, frequent migraines and weird bouts of vertigo aren't normal either, I should get this looked at." And it turned out I had dangerously low blood oxygen at night from undiagnosed sleep apnea. I have a CPAP machine now and it's AMAZING.

I really hope this is regular artistic shuffle and not a serious health concern, but if you're experiencing creative stress AND a bunch of other shit, it may be serious.

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

SFX Magazine Issue 368, August 2023

THEY’RE BACK – AND THIS TIME THEY’RE IN ALL-NEW TERRITORY. NEIL GAIMAN TALKS RETURNING FOR SEASON TWO OF GOOD OMENS

THE RASCALLY DEMON Crowley (David Tennant) and the neurotic angel Aziraphale (Michael Sheen) put aside their differences to pull off one doozy of a Hail Mary and prevent an impending Apocalypse in Good Omens’ first season. The task cemented the pair’s unconventional friendship. So what are divine beings, who have fallen out of grace with both Heaven and Hell, to do for an encore?

The answer lies with archangel Gabriel (Jon Hamm), who shows up unannounced on the doorstep of Aziraphale’s London bookshop. Suddenly, Aziraphale and Crowley are caught up in a caper of biblical proportions – but also a more intimate tale.

“It’s a mystery,” showrunner Neil Gaiman tells SFX. “It kicks off a story that doesn’t have giant consequences for the universe, even if it does have consequences for Aziraphale and Crowley. We have a lot of the marvellous Jon Hamm, who is the angel Gabriel and turns up at the beginning stark naked, carrying a cardboard box with no memory of who he is. In the same way, it is about Aziraphale and Crowley having to get involved with humanity in a way that they haven’t before.

“They get dragged in slightly against their will to try to sort out the love life of Aziraphale’s tenant,” he continues. “Her name is Maggie [Maggie Service] and she runs the record shop next to the bookshop. You’ll see the coffee shop over the road, which is Nina’s [Nina Sosanya]. The relationship between Maggie and Nina is one that Crowley and Aziraphale try to fix, and mess up, because they are not good at human relationships, even if they can do miracles.”

Truth be told, Gaiman never originally intended this arc to serve as Good Omens’ second instalment. The TV series was based on Gaiman and Terry Pratchett’s 1990 novel. The two collaborators had partially hashed out the details for a sequel to the fantasy comedy, late one night in a hotel room. This, however, is not it. Gaiman instead plotted a new narrative that could provide the connective tissue between the first season and a theoretical season three, if it happens.

“Because the hypothetical season three exists, there is a story that is there, and I didn’t feel that we could drive straight from season one into that,” Gaiman explains. “I knew what the stakes were. I knew what the parameters were. I also knew that I had David and Michael. I had the angels from plot number one.

I had demons from plot number one. And with anybody that I wanted to bring back, but didn’t have room for right now, I did not have to bring them back as themselves. “I had absolutely nothing for Madame Tracy to do in this plot, but I would be damned if Miranda Richardson wasn’t going to be in this. She is one of my favourite people in the world. She is hilarious and is so good. And I knew I was going to have a new demon replacing Crowley as Hell’s representative in London/ the UK. Miranda’s demon Shax is the best demon you could want.”

It’s late February 2022 and SFX is in Edinburgh for a set visit. A soundstage in Pyramids Studios has been transformed into a street in Soho. The visible local stores include the aforementioned book, coffee and record shops, as well as a magic establishment. In the middle of them all stand Aziraphale and Crowley, the latter in close proximity to his classic Bentley. It’s close to the end of the six-episode season, so exactly what the duo is discussing constitutes a spoiler. We can say, however, that Aziraphale has picked up the pace. Time is of the essence as Shax marshals her forces to descend on Aziraphale’s store and retrieve Gabriel.

“This is really Shax’s first time out on Earth,” Gaiman explains. “She is working very diligently and very hard in Hell for a long time. Now she is on Earth, trying to figure it all out. She’s just discovering what Crowley has known for 6,000 years, which is that if you’re a demon and come up with a brilliant plan to screw up the lives of humanity, people will get there first and do worse than anything you could have imagined! She’s coming to terms with that.

“She is having to deal with the first crisis on her watch, as well, which is the disappearance of the archangel Gabriel from Heaven. It would be fair to say that by the end of the story, she is leading as much as she can get from Hell’s requisition department – a legion of Hell – in an attack on a Soho bookshop.”

When audiences catch up with Aziraphale again, he’s enjoying his time among humans. He owns most of the block in a Soho neighbourhood, and he’s meddling in Nina’s love life. Meanwhile, Crowley has been living in his car, with his plants sitting on the back seat. He’s grumpy about his current status quo, but frequently hangs out at Aziraphale’s. The duo began as antagonists, but their history and blossoming relationship will be fleshed out in flashbacks.

“One of the enormously fun things I came up with is the idea of minisodes,” Gaiman explains. “They are 25-minute-long episodes within the episode. We have three of them over our six episodes. Each of them is like one of those chunks of episode three [in season one]. Whereas the longest one of those was four or five minutes, if that, these are full stories.

“You get to have the story of [put-upon Biblical figure] Job, and you learn Aziraphale and Crowley’s part in the story. Then writer Cat Clarke takes us to Edinburgh in the 1820s for a tale of body-snatching and attempted murder that the boys get involved in,” he adds.

“Finally, Jeremy Dyson and Andy Nyman reunite the League Of Gentlemen in a Nazi-period story that takes place very shortly after the episode in the church. That one was the only one I said had to be there, because I fell in love with our Nazi spies in the church. I kept thinking, ‘What would happen if they essentially came back as zombies, with a mission from Hell to try and investigate whether or not Crowley and Aziraphale were actually fraternising?’”

Gaiman admits that one of the greatest challenges has been filming Good Omens simultaneously with his upcoming show Anansi Boys. The two shoot within throwing distance of each other, but are both timeconsuming endeavours.

“If I could go back in time, I would go back to 16 September 2020, when Douglas Mackinnon [co-producer] and I got the phone call from the Amazon bigwigs to say, ‘We have good news for you and interesting news for you,’” Gaiman recalls. “‘The good news is we are greenlighting both Good Omens and Anansi Boys. The interesting news is you are going to have to do them both at the same time.’

“I would go back to then and I would throw myself on the call and say, ‘Neil, don’t! This is unwise.’ That we are doing them both together is great. The amount of sleep I am not getting is monumental and monstrous.

“It’s a little bit like childbirth, in that I managed to forget all the things that drove me nuts about the first one. Having said that, I managed to fix all the things that really drove me nuts making season one, which is great. We just have a whole new set of problems making season two…”

The Odd Couple - David Tennant and Michael Sheen talk character and sets for season two

Crowley and Aziraphale come off as the best of frenemies at times. Where do they stand with one other now?

DT: They are indeed. What’s different in season two is because of what happened at the end of season one, they no longer have head offices that they have to report to. They are in a very different position. Whereas before they were trying to get away with things, now they are kind of free agents.

MS: Although sort of fugitives as well. They are sort of in-between. But this amazing life they have created over a millennia, they are now able to enjoy in a slightly different way. They are not having to put on a front for their respective teams. There is a different kind of freedom.

DT: While at the same time being cut off, so they are also strangers in a strange land.

MS: That kind of connects them in a slightly different way. They have always been the only two beings who could understand each other’s position. Now they are pushed even closer together.

Now that they have the run of the place with no obligations, does that bring its own set of problems, being cut off?

DT: They have this sort of uneasy relationship. They are not entirely cut off from their head offices. Indeed, their head offices are quite keen to exploit that sort of adjacent connection, as we will see as the story unfolds. They exist in this grey area, neither the supernatural nor of the Earth.

MS: By the time we pick up their story in this series, they have appeared in time where they were kind of let alone a bit more. When we pick the story up, they are being bothered again.

The depth and the richness and the detail of what we are seeing on set here in Edinburgh is mind-blowing. How is it for you having it all in one place now, rather than having filming scattered around the UK?

MS: It’s completely changed the experience of doing it. Just being indoors… The Soho set on the first season was freezing cold.

DT: I was in a car park. Even inside the bookshop I was exposed to the elements! There’s a greater percentage of the show set here. There was a practical imperative to making it a manageable environment. If we had been in a car park, the elements might have impinged our ability to film.

Hellraiser - David Tennant is Crowley

You and Michael know these characters inside out. Do you have a shorthand?

It’s a hard thing to be objective about. Although I didn’t know Michael that well before we shot season one, it was always easy and exciting working together. It’s well-oiled now, for sure. It’s certainly fun to come to work. We enjoy bouncing off each other.

How comfortable are they about becoming involved with Gabriel?

I suppose Aziraphale is a much more enthusiastic detective. We are very much voting for the spin-off called The Azirafiles, which will follow this! As with most things, Crowley is reluctant to get involved or to exhibit any kind of energy or enthusiasm about very much. He is dragged kicking and screaming into this. Necessity forces him to get involved, whereas Aziraphale rather likes it.

Where does Crowley hang out these days?

He spends a lot of time in the book shop. He only has one friend. He can only have one friend. That is the great liberation, and also the great prison, that they find themselves in. They have no one else. They have come to rely on each other more than they ever did. And more than they care to admit.

Crowley is a rock star, in a way. Were there any particular musicians that inspired you?

Not consciously, no. The look was assembled accidentally during the first costume sessions. The Crowley of the book is of the mode when the book was written. He is more kind of Wall Street, the way he is described. We just decided that Crowley should always be of the moment he’s in. We were just trying to find a look that we felt fitted.

Divine Being - Michael Sheen is Aziraphale

How has knowing your characters better informed this series?

The first series was the first time we really properly worked together. It feels like we haven’t stopped working together since. Everything that has happened in-between plays into coming back to these characters. I am sure it is all feeding into it. It’s very difficult for us to know how that is informing the characters and their relationships.

With the flashbacks to various points in Earth’s history, is there a period of time Aziraphale enjoys the most?

One of the most enjoyable things for the audience and us is moving through different historical periods. It’s a great source of joy, and people thoroughly enjoyed that episode in the first series, so that has been expanded on in season two. But in terms of which Aziraphale enjoys the most, I think it’s not actually a period of time that we’ve seen him in on this series.

He would have been happiest at the end of the 19th century, in the Victorian era, which is considered the golden age of magic. He would have loved being with the greats like Harry Houdini. He loved the Victorian period. It was a great period of time for philanthropy and doing good works in a municipal way.

How has it been going from something dark like The Prodigal Son to a more whimsical show?

That’s the nature of an actor’s job. You go from one thing to another. In some ways, it’s even more useful to have big differences between the characters. What tends to happen, and I think most actors feel this way, is if you are playing one character for a long time, part of you yearns to play the bits the character doesn’t have. There’s a naivety and an innocence about Aziraphale. But at the same time, underneath that, there is eons of knowledge and experience.

[hotchfiles]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ too busy being yours ❞ ─ a we could be love blurb

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!rossi!reader. summary: you're pretty much in love with your boss. and he's pretty into you too. but if being your boss wasn't bad enough, he's also your dad's best friend. content warnings: valentine's fluff! no romance involved tho. just friends being friends and sleeping into each other's embrace. as friends do. might not be totally inclusive to full italian girls (?). two idiots in love making rossi seem worse than he is. word count: 2k+. a/n: the bau!rossi!verse begins. i never proof read anything.

      Being single during Valentine's Day was already bad, hearing your own father's romantic plans for the evening only made it worse. The humiliating truth of not having the same game as David Rossi was daunting, but you didn't have the Italian vibes to use in your favor like he did, and you were pathetically in love with your boss and that made every single man look awful in comparison.

      "What about you Baby Rossi, any saucy plans for tonight?" Your eyes shoot daggers at Derek for making the question, bringing everyone's attention to your warm cheeks.

      "Apparently I have to look for a ride home, saucy enough?" Your father shrugs with an apologetic glance at your answer, he usually took you home but wouldn't have the time to today. That's what you get for carpooling.

      Between dates and the bar, you were getting out of options and was about to accept your fate: You would have to take the subway. You weren't sure how Spencer did it so often, specially with his particularity with germs and people, you absolutely hated it, it was too tiring, too loud.

      You run up the stairs to get to Hotch's office, handing him your reports, slightly out of breath.

      "You were quick with these." It's a praise with a hidden quip: You were always the last one to hand yours, not only a natural procrastinator, but you were the last one to join the unit, you still struggled with some of the bureaucracy.

      "Trying to avoid rush hour, taking the subway today."

      "I can take you home–" He seems surprised by his own response, or by how quick he offered that ride. Your address is somewhere on your files but he doesn't truly know where you live. He couldn't even shrug it off saying it was on his way home.

      "Don't you have a date? I mean–Wouldn't this make you late for anything?" You hope dearly that you didn't make it obvious that you just wanted to know if he was seeing someone. It's obviously too much to hope for, he knows.

      And he smiles sweetly, softly. He tries his best to keep it innocent. "No plans today, just me, my bed... And some popcorn i think."

      You chew on the inside of your cheeks softly thinking about your next move. Hotchner had slipped through conversation earlier that Jack had a sleepover planned, so by that logic, he would be alone, just like you. 

      He wasn’t exactly subtle about his interest in you, but he somewhat tried to conceal it, asking him out on a date seemed too pushy. 

      “Those are exactly my plans… You could maybe stay over for a bit, then? Maybe?” Your eyes glow with the expectation as you ask him, fingers busy with your necklace to soothe yourself. “We might have to pick Garcia up at some point of the night, though, if that’s okay.” You were always tasked with drunk Penelope anytime you bailed on them as a punishment. 

      You didn’t mind, drunk Garcia was fun Garcia, but if Aaron accepted your invitation, you hoped there wouldn’t be any interruptions. 

      Movies and popcorn are innocent enough, that’s the first thing on his mind, it can be innocent, and even when he tries to talk himself down of what could lead to very bad bad choices, your mention of Garcia tips him over the edge. It was just friends hanging out. Definitely. 

      “Yeah… I mean, yeah sure, that sounds fun. I have to keep myself awake until later than usual in case Jack calls me anyway.” You nod more to yourself and offer him a shy smile, just before he hands you more papers. “Oh yeah–You’ve got yourself a few more work hours, though.”

      The ride to your place is anything but silent. Your phone keeps buzzing, signaling the BAU gals group chat wants details of what’s happening but you and Aaron barely notice it as conversation flows easily between you two.

      You ask him about Jack’s sleepover and the sleeping later ordeal and he tells you how on his first sleepover Jack gave up and called him to pick him up at almost 1am. “When the fun was over he just wanted his bed. Driving the moment I woke was a terrible experience.” 

      That was years ago and he still waits for that clock to hit 1AM before sleeping. Just in case his baby needs him.

      You can feel your insides turn into mush, the way he cares always from the smallest to the biggest ways reminding you of why falling for him was so desperately easy. “That’s incredibly sweet of you, Aaron.”  

      The informality catches him off guard, but he welcomes it, loving the way his name sounds leaving your lips. “He’s a sweet kid, much more cooperative than drunk Garcia, I can assure you.” 

      You laugh at his joke and it’s silent for mere seconds before he finally asks the question, the one question on his mind since you walked into his office earlier. Why? Why don’t you have a date? Why aren’t you at the bar? How can you even be single?

      “I don’t have a lot of free time, Aaron. I’m… Busy.” You both know that’s not a lie. But you could try to make time if you were interested, you could’ve gone out today. Unfortunately, when you found yourself having feelings for someone, you couldn’t bring yourself to look for someone else. All the other men seemed so incredibly dull compared to the one taking you home, and you couldn’t but compare when you were with any other. 

      “You had free time tonight.” He’s pushing it and he knows it. He shouldn’t be asking so many questions about your dating life, he shouldn’t pry when he knew himself well enough to be certain he wouldn’t make any moves on you. Younger, beautiful, funny, smart… And the daughter of his closest friend. All the reasons he was so smitten were also the reasons he told himself he shouldn’t lead you on. 

      You deserved someone your age, with no baggage, or at least one lighter than his. Someone with more time to spare, who could take your mind out of the job and not keep you on it. And definitely someone who didn’t go to jazz clubs with your father. 

      Still, his hands are firm on the wheel, turning left to get to your home. 

      “I’m not wasting my free time on guys I meet at bars on Valentine’s Day.” He smirks, finding a good spot to park his car without saying anything else. He’s delighted by your answers even though it isn’t fair.

      He gets ready to leave the car but you stop him, tapping his thigh lightly (it sends shivers up his spine but he’s getting good at pretending not to feel it). “Better get your go bag.” You see confusion on his eyes and that known furrowed brow directed at you. “You’re not gonna be comfortable in a suit. You can change to your spare.”

      He hadn’t thought about that, it would definitely defy the purpose of a quiet relaxing movie night if he was all dressed up in his well known work attire. So he does as instructed and gets his go bag from the backseat, even though he’s getting more and more anxious by the second. The innocent friends movie night he made himself believe looking more and more like he was sleeping over. 

      You give him the tour of your apartment–a gift from your dad when you graduated from the academy, not that anyone really needed to know how spoiled you were–and show him the bathroom where he could change. Or shower. He has his go bag after all. 

      You go to your room to do just that, trying not to let the thoughts of him possibly being naked and under your shower flood your mind as you take the quickest shower you’ve ever taken in your life. 

      As you move from your own bathroom to your closet to get your pajamas you’re suddenly very aware of what’s really happening. You really did invite him to your apartment. This was a date. But it couldn’t be a date, did he see it as a date? Being so very infatuated by him and knowing well he had some sort of interest in you was very very different than acting on it. Your dad would kill you if he knew. And Aaron. And you again, possibly, if he knew it was your doing to initiate it. 

      Instead of your usual thin fabric short shorts and tank top you wear to sleep, you decide to be decent, black silk loose pants, old university t-shirt, cotton robe, socks and fluffy slippers. Anything that could maybe show you are totally just thinking about watching some fun movies with a friend. 

      You take two blankets and two pillows with you as you leave your bedroom, the sound of the shower being turned off making your feet almost run to get everything ready. The couch turning into a bed with a bit of struggle to unfold it. You made sure each blanket and pillow were on each side of it, as far as possible from each other. 

      Popcorn! You need to make popcorn, that’s the first thing you think when you hear the door unlocking, going straight for the kitchen and putting a bag on your microwave. As it popped you got cheese strings and butter out of your fridge. If you couldn’t blow his mind in better ways, you could at least get him hooked to your special cheesy buttered popcorn. 

      “I’m making myself way too comfortable, I think.” His voice is smooth and relaxed and when you look back he’s leaning into the frame, his hair is wet and he’s wearing matching black sweatpants and a hoodie you’ve never seen him wear. 

      For a moment you just want to kiss him and forget about any debate morality could bring to ruin it, but instead you laugh and take the popcorn out of the microwave and drop its content into a bowl, spreading some butter on top and dropping a few strings of cheese on it before putting the bowl on the microwave. 

      “Casa mia è casa tua.” Your Italian is a bit rusty but it still works as a charmer, “Go pick us the most terrible looking romcom you can find while I finish this.”

      “Romcom, huh?” He asks and you can just hear the teasing in his tone. 

      “You didn’t think we were going for some documentary, right?” You use a spoon to mix the popcorn to the melted butter and cheese when it’s out of the microwave, and follow him to the living room, “We’re gonna eat this cheesy, buttered, absolutely heart-swelling popcorn and make fun of some terrible, terrible movie love tropes.”

      You do just that, and it’s awkward at first, the both of you wanting to be closer but also not feeling like you should cross that barrier, but as the night went on, the more you shared that popcorn, the more laughs you shared, the closer you got on that couch, specially after he tried to rub his greased fingers on your face, making you do the same to him. 

      One movie becomes two, and then three, and somewhere in between him telling you about the dates he would take Haley as a teen, making you laugh at how sweet and romantic he always was, and you telling him about your first kiss and how terrible it was, you both fall asleep. Your head on his chest, his arms around you. 

      Jack doesn’t call, and if Emily tried to get you to pick up Garcia you definitely didn’t see it. 

      It’s the first time you both share such an intimate moment, and it is just that. Sleeping in each other’s arms. Aaron even wakes up in the middle of the night, 3AM striking on the clock on your wall. He wasn’t even able to freak out and overthink anything about it, the comfort of your smell making him hug you tighter and close his eyes again. 

      He could deal with it in the morning.

[thesherrinfordfacility]

Source

Transcript of main article under the cut:

THE RASCALLY DEMON Crowley (David Tennant) and the neurotic angel Aziraphale (Michael Sheen) put aside their differences to pull off one doozy of a Hail Mary and prevent an impending Apocalypse in Good Omens' first season. The task cemented the pair's unconventional friendship. So what are divine beings who have fallen out of grace with both Heaven and Hell to do for an encore?

The answer lies with archangel Gabriel (Jon Hamm), who shows up unannounced on the doorstep of Aziraphale's London bookshop. Suddenly, Aziraphale and Crowley are caught up in a caper of biblical proportions- but also a more intimate tale.

"It's a mystery" showrunner Neil Gaiman tells SFX. "It kicks off a story that doesn't have giant consequences for the universe, even if it does have consequences for Aziraphale and Crowley. We have a lot of the marvellous Jon Hamm, who is the angel Gabriel and turns up at the beginning stark naked, carrying a cardboard box with no memory of who he is. In the same way, it is about Aziraphale and Crowley having to get involved with humanity in a way that they haven't before.

"They get dragged in slightly against their will to try to sort out the love life of Aziraphale's tenant," he continues. "Her name is Maggie (Maggie Service) and she runs the

record shop next to the bookshop. You'll see the coffee shop over the road, which is Nina's (Nina Sosanya). The relationship between Maggie and Nina is one that Crowley and Aziraphale try to fix, and mess up, because they are not good at human relationships, even if they can do miracles."

Truth be told, Gaiman never originally intended this arc to serve as Good Omens' second instalment. The TV series was based on Gaiman and Terry Pratchett's 1990 novel. The two collaborators had partially hashed out the details for a sequel to the fantasy comedy, late one night in a hotel room. This, however, is not it. Gaiman instead plotted a new narrative that could provide the connective tissue between the first season and a theoretical season three, if it happens.

"Because the hypothetical season three exists, there is a story that is there, and I didn't feel that we could drive straight from season one into that," Gaiman explains. "I knew what the stakes were. I knew what the parameters were. I also know that I had David and Michael. I had the angels from plot number one. I had demons from plot number one. And with anybody that I wanted to bring back, but didn't have room for right now, I did not have to bring them back as themselves.

"I had absolutely nothing for Madame Tracy to do in this plot, but I would be damned if Miranda Richardson wasn't going to be in this. She is one of my favourite people in the world. She is hilarious and is so good. And I knew I was going to have a new demon replacing Crowley as Hell's representative in London/the UK. Miranda's demon Shax is the best demon you could want."

It's late February 2012 and SFX is in Edinburgh for a set visit. A soundstage in Pyramids Studies has been transformed into a street in Soho. The visible local stores include the aforementioned book, coffee and record shops, as well as a magic establishment. In the middle of them all stand Aziraphale and Crowley, the latter in close proximity to his classic Bentley. It's close to the end of the six-episode season, so exactly what the duo is discussing constitutes a spoiler. We can say, however, that Aziraphale has picked up the pace. Time is of the essence as Shax marshals her forces to descend on Aziraphale's store and retrieve Gabriel.

"This is really Shax's first time out on Earth," Gaiman explains. "She is working very diligently and very hard in Hell for a long time. Now she is on Earth, trying to figure it all out. She's just discovering what Crowley has known for 6,000 years, which is that if you're a demon and come up with a brilliant plan to screw up the lives of humanity, people will get there first and do worse than anything you could have imagined! She's coming to terms with that.

"She is having to deal with the first crisis on her watch, as well, which is the disappearance of the archangel Gabriel from Heaven. It would be fair to say that by the end of the story, she is leading as much as she can get from Hell's requisition department - a legion of Hell - in an attack on a Soho bookshop."

When audiences catch up with Aziraphale again, he's enjoying his time among humans. He owns most of the block in a Soho neighbourhood, and he's meddling in Nina's love life. Meanwhile, Crowley has been living in his car, with his plants sitting on the back seat. He's grumpy about his current status quo, but frequently hangs out at Aziraphale's. The duo began as antagonists, but their history and blooming relationship will be fleshed out in flashbacks.

"One of the enormously fun things I came up with in the idea of minisodes," Gaiman explains. They are 25-minute-long episodes within the episode. We have three of them over our six episodes. Each of them is like one of those chunks of episode three (in season one). Whereas the longest one of those was four or five minutes, if that, these are full stories.

"You get to have the story of (put-upon Biblical figure) Job and you learn Aziraphale and Crowley's part in the story. Then writer Cat Clarke takes us to Edinburgh in the 1820s for a tale of body-snatching and attempted murder that the boys get involved in," he adds.

"Finally, Jeremy Dyson and Andy Nyman reunite the League of Gentlemen in a Nazi-period story that takes place very shortly after the episode in the church. That one was the only one I said had to be there, because I fell in love with our Nazi spies in the church I kept thinking, "What would happen if they essentially came back as zombies with a mission from Hell to try and investigate whether or not Crowley and Aziraphale were actually fraternising?"

Gaiman admits that one of the greatest challenges has been filming Good Omens simultaneously with his upcoming show Anansi Bays. The two shoot within throwing distance of each other, but are both time-consuming endeavours.

"If I could go back in time, I would go back to 16 September 2020, when Douglas Mackinnon (co-producer) and I got the phone call from the Amazon bigwigs to say, "We have

good news for you and interesting news for you," Gaiman recalls. "'The good news is we are greenlighting both Good Omens and Anansi Boys. The interesting news is you are going to have to do them both at the same time.'

"I would go back to then and I would throw myself on the call and say, 'Neil, don't! This is unwise.' That we are doing them both together is great. The amount of sleep I am not getting is monumental and monstrous.

"It's a little bit like childbirth, in that I managed to forget all the things that drove me nuts about the first one. Having said that, I managed to fix all the things that really drove me nuts making season one which is great. We just have a whole new set of problems making season two."

[davidlcki]

BESTIE BEGGING ON MY KNEES we need more david loki x reader out here 😭😭 maybe some angst/comfort?? ILY

jealousy

i got two pretty similar requests so i kinda combined these into one! anywho i fucking LIVE for angst, so i had fun writing this! it’s not as angsty as some of the stuff i’ve written, but i hope this lives up to yalls expectations 🙏

pairing: detective david loki x reader

warnings: cussing, arguing, jealousy, drinking, david gets slapped. implied female reader, though it can be read as gn! i think that’s it 😁

summary: david is jealous of a new hire that’s been flirting with you at the precinct.

words: 1,313

“i’m just saying i don’t like you being all buddy buddy with him.” david’s words shot anger through your veins. he was talking about one of the new hires that you were tasked with showing around the precinct. you were only the receptionist, meaning you had the most spare time to show someone the ropes. you could tell the guy liked you, making a few jokes and letting his eyes linger on you a little longer than they should. this didn’t bother you a bit. you were so smitten with david that no other person would be able to tinge it in even the slightest, so you let it slide and continued on showing him around. in hindsight, you knew this argument was going to happen. you noticed the way david’s jaw clenched as you spoke to the other man, eyes boring holes into the back of his head from his desk, surely imagining a hundred ways to kill him.

“david. i was asked by o’malley to show him the ropes. what am i supposed to do? say no and lose my job?” david shakes his head at your words, sighing heavily.

“no. but you two seemed awful friendly.” his eyes snap over to yours from his place at the counter, a glass of whiskey in his hands.

“there’s nothing behind that. i treat him just like any other coworker. you need to get over this jealousy thing, D. don’t you trust me?” you shoot him a glare, annoyed that he was so untrusting of you. you watch as he downs the rest of his whiskey, slamming the glass down a little harder than he should have. he shakes his head in annoyance.

“he was flirting with you.”

“so what? i love you and only you. i’m not going to let some new hire’s shitty flirting change that.”

“you do this on purpose to mess with me, don’t you?” he scoffs, the slightest slur to his words. this is when you realized he was more drunk than you thought.

“jesus. you’re drunk. i’m not doing this with you while you’re fucking drunk.” you turn on your heel, walking from the kitchen. you were hurt. you knew he was the jealous type, but not like this. you hadn’t done more than show the new hire around and share maybe two laughs, but that was enough to send him over the edge. just as you stepped out of the living room and your feet make contact with the soft carpet from your living room, he spoke again.

“do you not love me anymore? that it?” this for you, was your breaking point. you weren’t thinking anymore as you turned and stormed back into the kitchen, getting face to face with loki who stood from his seat as you came over.

“how dare you?” your voice had a shake to it as you point a finger into his chest. “i would take a fucking bullet for you. god, your insecurities are taking over this relationship david! why cant you trust me like i trust you? half the women in the precinct drool over you every day. but see, i TRUST you. why not talk to me instead of drowning your feelings in fucking liquor first?” by the time you finished speaking you realized tears were coming down your cheeks in thick streams. you could tell what you had said got to david deep down, but you also knew how he was after a few drinks. stubborn as all hell. a few beats of silence pass before his brows furrow, eyes hardening ever so slightly, only something you could notice. you grit your teeth, knowing some bullshit was about to leave his lips.

“you gonna leave me over this now so you can go be with that new hire? what’s his fuckin’ name, john? jake? j-” you cut david’s sentence short with a harsh slap to the face. you knew it was wrong, but you were so hot with anger that any rational thought had been thrown out the window. his head snapped to the side, and for a while he stayed that way, pressing his lips into a flat line as he processed what had just happened, surely getting more sober by the minute. you weren’t the type of person to resort to hitting in situations like this, and your actions shocked the both of you. finally, he turned his head back to look at you, eyes widened ever so slightly. your bottom lip quivered, a threat of more tears to come, and you turned to walk towards your front door before he could say much more. you slipped your shoes on, not taking the time to put on a coat even though snow fell lightly from the dark sky. you didn’t know where you were going, but your feet had carried you through winding sidewalks through the little neighborhoods of conyers for at least a few hours. when you were sure you’d get sick from the cold and lack of a coat, you hesitantly came back home.

you pushed your front door open, and david was sitting on the couch, tv off. his head snapped to you instantly, his eyebrows knotted in worry. clearly he’s had time to sober up and reflect. you hardly make eye contact with him, deciding to head to the shower, hoping it would wash all your feelings away. you ignore as he calls your name out, soon drowning any other sound out with the sound of running water from the shower head. you stepped in so hastily you nearly forgot to pull your socks off. for a while you stood under the stream of hot water with your eyes closed, simply daydreaming. you were only snapped out of it by the sound of the bathroom door opening.

“david. just leave me alone.” you sigh. after a few moments of silence, you speak again.

“helloo? are you trying to be mysterious or something?” suddenly, david pulled the shower curtain back, not hesitating to step into the shower with you. he was still fully clothed.

“hey!!!” you shout, staring at him wide eyed, though a smile was tugging at your lips at the insanity of it all. “D, you’re still in your clothes!” he only looked at you, a solemn expression on his face.

“i’m sorry.” as he spoke, water from the shower dripped down his face, strands of hair falling out of their usual perfect place. you sigh, running a hand down your face and looking back up at him.

“i just don’t want to lose you. i’m scared.” you could hardly here these words from him as he spoke them so quietly, you nearly had to resort to reading his lips.

“i know. i know. i just wish we could talk about these things before you drink.” your eyes scan his face which remained knotted with worry. you noticed a red mark still remained where you had hit him. you look away for a few beats of silence. “i’m sorry for hitting you. i should have never done that.”

“i deserved it.”

a snort escapes you as you look back at him. “maybe just a little. but it was wrong. so i’m sorry.”

a small smile twitches at the corner of his lips. “i forgive you.” his touch was gentle as he pulled you into his embrace. you wrap your arms around his clothed frame, resting your head against his shoulder and sighing deeply, this time with relief.

“did you really have to get in the shower with your clothes though?”

“i thought it would be good for dramatic effect.” you pull away, looking at david who was smiling much wider at his seemingly great idea to get into the shower fully clothed. you shake your head, pressing your lips against his for a few moments.

“you’re an idiot, loki.”

[ninyard]

re; ur kevin homeschooling post

i think about it ALL THE TIME. especially in the way that i think kevin also just really struggled with general life skills when he got out the nest, and struggled with the foxes reactions to his inability to do very ‘basic’ ‘normal’ tasks

like the foxes realising that kevin does Not know how to do like.. very regular things like he does not know how to cook or make a reservation or call his doctor or drive a car or take the bus alone or or or and and i do think they would tease him at first and laugh at oh silly kevin and his lack of human normal person skills but when they see that’s he’s actually kind of upset at not being able to do pretty average stuff without asking for help or getting really nervous about trying it in case he does it wrong i, in my gentle heart, do hope and believe they would all be sweet and patient to him and actively try to subtly teach him the skills that, to no fault of his own, he genuinely just never got taught because hey where’s the time for learning interactive skills in ur underground cult school eh!

anyways i just think it’s a very sweet image to think about nicky patiently explaining recipes to kevin and showing him each steps or matt volunteering to take him around the city on the bus to get the hang of the routes or all the little things andrew does for him !!!!

maybe this comes off coddling or a bit odd but also maybe i just wish kevin had been treated a little more gently in canon in what was truly a traumatic and deeply sheltered upbringing brushed off into like oh kevin is annoying and not personable bla bla bla

sorry this went off on a tangent i just love you kevin day and want to hold ur hand on the bus

thisthisthis oh anon don’t get me STARTED

The thing about Kevin, though, is that he is very, very, very good at hiding things. He had to be. Kevin knows how to act natural when someone walks in on him doing something that he shouldn’t, no reaction on his face. Kevin knows exactly how to look like he’s doing something when he’s doing nothing at all, when he’s listening in on a conversation that’s happening across the room. Kevin learned how to keep himself out of trouble as much as possible, and that meant becoming sneaky, becoming careful, becoming subtle.

I think that when Kevin comes out of the nest, it’s almost impossible to notice just how far behind his ability to function is. He doesn’t give anybody the chance to notice, regardless - he avoids cooking in front of anyone where he can, avoids doing the things he knows he can’t do where people can see him.

As you say, it comes to calling the doctor, or taking the bus, or tying a tie, or understanding social cues, or knowing how to order food over the phone, or grocery shopping. It comes to childhood songs and rhymes and games and Kevin doesn’t have a clue.

Wymack is the first to notice, obviously, and it’s a little while before Andrew notices too. The thing about this is not that it’s a big blinking red sign that says KEVIN IS INCAPABLE OF FUNCTIONING. It’s the little things, the things people deem common sense or muscle memory. He doesn’t know how to use a washing machine, or a coffee machine. He doesn’t know how to properly wash dishes.

But Kevin is very good at avoiding the things he can’t do. He’s very good at making sure his teammates don’t find out how incapable he is of doing certain things. It’s not his fault, it’s the way he was raised, but he still feels… embarrassed by it, in a way. When Nicky looks at him and says, “Kevin Day doesn’t even know how to make a grilled cheese?” and laughs, it hurts. It hurts when Allison throws a comment over her shoulder about how he doesn’t know how to talk to people, or when the team are playing some common childhood game and Kevin has absolutely no idea what is going on. He wishes he knew, he wishes he was raised to know, but he doesn’t.

(David teaches him how to tie a tie, naturally. When Kevin has an ear infection, and Abby and Wymack aren’t around, maybe Renee is the one that writes out a script to make a doctors appointment, “Hi, I’m sorry to bother you, I’m looking to make an appointment for…”. Matt shows him how to take the bus, and Dan shows him how to do laundry. Maybe Allison teaches him how to flirt, or put up boundaries. Maybe Andrew teaches him how to drive, and maybe Neil shows him how to light a fire or tie a knot. Nicky shows him how to order a cab. Aaron teaches him how to make Mac and cheese. Once they all see how much it actually effects Kevin that he lacks these “basic” skills, I think they all find their own ways to teach him little things. Whether they mean to or not.)

[anniebeemine]

Blue Velvet- s.r.

bluer than velvet was the night

summary: Spencer had no idea he could fall for a coworker, nor could he think straight at seeing her in that dress. Pure fluff and self indulgence. Inspired by the Lana Del Rey cover and I Can't Fight This Feeling Anymore by REO Speedwagon.

Word Count: ~4,802

Spencer weaved through the crowd gathered in the main ballroom. The annual FBI gala was the talk of the year. He never cared for it before, making excuses to avoid going, but he made a promise this year. It’s his tenth year anniversary since joining and he was going to be honored with a gift.

“Pretty boy, you clean up nice,” Derek chuckled as he caught Reid’s sleeve.

“Hardy, har, har,” he replied. “Where’s everyone else?”

David raised an eyebrow. “Looking for someone specific?”

“Someone named Y/N?”

“No!” Spencer said, a little too quickly. “Maybe. She said she was running late and I want to make sure she made it.”

There was no way in hell Spencer would stay for long if it wasn’t for you. During your time on the team, you’d grown close. It was on one of those rare quiet afternoons that you discovered your shared interest in the genre.

"Do you like science fiction movies?" you had asked one day, scrolling through the TV guide during a rare moment of downtime during a case.

Spencer had looked up from his research, his eyes lighting up with a hint of excitement. "Actually, yes. I find them fascinating—exploring hypothetical futures, advanced technology, and ethical dilemmas."

And so began your tradition of movie nights, where you'd take turns picking films from the vast world of science fiction. From classics like "Blade Runner" to newer releases exploring the complexities of artificial intelligence and space exploration, each movie sparked lively discussions that ranged from scientific theories to philosophical debates. On weekends when the BAU was quiet, you and Spencer ventured out beyond the confines of the office and his book-lined apartment. Running errands became a joint endeavor, transforming mundane tasks into opportunities for laughter and camaraderie. Grocery shopping turned into a quest to find the most obscure ingredients for Spencer's latest culinary experiment—often inspired by a scientific study or a quirky fact he'd read.

"I read that turmeric has potential neuroprotective properties," Spencer had mused one day in the spice aisle, carefully examining the labels on various jars.

"Does that mean you're going to start making brain-boosting curry?" you teased, looking at the options.

"Maybe I'll give it a try," he replied, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Switching up the recipe?"

You nodded. "Since we have dinner all the time, I thought I'd use you as a guinea pig for new recipes."

Spencer grimaced. "Anything for research, I guess."

You also discovered a shared love for exploring quirky bookstores tucked away in hidden corners of the city. Each visit was a treasure hunt for obscure novels, scientific journals, and occasionally, a rare first edition that would send Spencer into a state of quiet excitement. You'd spend hours browsing together, exchanging recommendations and discussing everything from literature to astrophysics. One particularly memorable afternoon, you stumbled upon a small independent bookstore that seemed frozen in time, its shelves packed with a dizzying array of books. Spencer had eagerly led the way to the science fiction section, his eyes alight with curiosity as he scanned the titles.

"This place is amazing," you murmured, running your fingers along the worn spines of old paperbacks.

"It really is," Spencer agreed, his voice tinged with genuine admiration. "I could spend hours here."

And spend hours you did, lost in the world of words and ideas, until the setting sun cast long shadows through the dusty windows, signaling it was time to reluctantly leave the sanctuary of books.

As the weeks turned into months, your friendship with Spencer unexpectedly deepened. Beyond the crime scenes and the high-stress situations, you found solace in each other's company, whether it was watching a thought-provoking sci-fi movie, embarking on an impromptu culinary experiment, or simply sharing a quiet moment of reflection in the presence of books. Spencer had spent the last few months avoiding questions about your friendship. The two of you would often text casually, making plans with each other more often than with the rest of the team. Prying eyes and curiosity had won over a team member or two. Your friendship had evolved into something deeper. You shared jokes and swapped books every few days. He’d spent hours thinking about his feelings. He dissected every time you’d touched.

The first time he felt a pang of the feeling he couldn’t describe was in Missouri.

The two of you were trying to navigate alongside a creek. Two campers had seen a canoe floating down the creek. The color matched a photo of the missing victim. Your boots crunched softly over the rotting leaves. The recent rainy weather made the ground unstable. According to park rangers, there’s usually an uptick in people slipping into the water. Spencer’s eye caught a flash of red amongst the brown and gray environment. You had gotten so caught up in the excitement for a clue that your foot teetered over a root. You began falling forward but Spencer was able to grab your arm. He attempted to brace himself, taking a step back. Instead, he took his own tumble, steadying himself against a tree. Your eyes had met for a moment. He could see the gratitude in your eyes.

“Thanks, Reid,” you murmured, brushing your hands off. You patted his arm in appreciation, turning back to the task at hand.

Spencer let you go slowly, the pat you’d given his arm still feeling heavy against his skin. You reached the canoe before he could properly think about it.

The second time he felt that dip was in New York City. A case had dragged them out to the city and the weather kept them there for an extra day. The BAU found a small restaurant around the corner from the hotel. You’d sat at other ends of the table, chattering with the team. At the end of the night, you’d psst at him to stay back.

“What?” He asked once the team had walked away.

“I got these tickets for you.” You held up two tickets to a theater in Lower Manhattan. There was a screening of a foreign film Spencer had spent weeks begging you to watch. You just couldn’t shell out the $14.99 to watch it at home.

“How did you get these? I checked earlier and they were sold out!”

You smiled. “I’m not going to lie, I had to beg for these from some lady on Craigslist.”

“Thank you!” He gushed. “Care to join me?”

“Me?”

His smile faltered for a second. “Yeah, Y/N. I don’t think anyone else would like it.”

After the film, hours slipped by as you talked about the film. The conversation flowed effortlessly, passionate about the film and it’s camerawork. Morning dawned and you’d woken up on the bed, facing the window. Spencer laid beside you, facing the opposite wary. You had plans to sightsee with Emily and JJ while Spencer wanted to visit a library or two.

A tap on the microphone on the small stage brought Spencer back to the gala. Derek chuckled, apparently having tried to pull him into the conversation with Rossi. The music resumed after the introductions. Spencer moved around the room, mingling with a few departments from the FBI. He caught sight of you through a few people. He began making his way towards you, stopping as he finally caught a full view of you.

He found himself speechless as the way the blue dress fell over your body. The thin straps and cowl neckline framed your face. Your hair fell elegantly, loose waves traveling down your shoulders. The deep blue fabric shimmered under the dim lighting. Spencer took note of how the dress complimented your figure, showing off every curve and bump. You were talking to a man, older. Spencer was completely mesmerized by how you listened so intently, brows furrow and making direct eye contact. So relaxed, yet so professional. The burning sensation in his stomach returned. Only now, he could pinpoint his feelings.

I’m in love with my best friend

Spencer took a deep breath, turning away. He found himself at the bar, a voice ordering for him. “Ice water!" Morgan clapped Spencer on the back. “Everyone saw that, lover boy.”

Spencer could feel his cheeks burning. Perhaps water would be better than alcohol. Taking the glass of ice water offered by the bartender, Spencer took a slow sip, the cool liquid soothing his parched throat and calming his nerves. He appreciated Derek's attempt to inject humor into the moment, yet beneath the surface, a storm of emotions churned—a turmoil he couldn't easily articulate.

Derek, sensing the shift in Spencer's demeanor, paused for a moment, his playful expression fading into one of concern. He studied Spencer intently, noting the furrow of his brow and the uncharacteristic quietness that had settled over him.

"Hey, man," Derek said softly, his tone gentle now, devoid of its earlier jest. "You okay?"

Spencer hesitated, the weight of his confession still heavy upon him. He glanced at Derek, grateful for the genuine concern mirrored in his friend's eyes. "I… I don't know," he admitted quietly, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

Derek nodded understandingly, sensing the gravity of the situation. "Talk to me, Reid," he encouraged, his voice low and supportive. "What's going on?"

Spencer took a deep breath, his thoughts racing as he struggled to articulate the tumultuous feelings swirling within him. "It's just… I've realized something," he began slowly, his words carefully chosen. "About Y/N." Derek waited patiently, sensing that this was more than just another case of Spencer overthinking. He knew that when Spencer spoke with this level of introspection, it meant something profound was at play. "I think… I think I'm in love with her," Spencer admitted quietly, his gaze dropping to his hands as he traced the rim of his glass. The admission hung between them, vulnerable and raw.

Derek's expression softened, understanding dawning in his eyes. “Yeah, we know, kid.”

“Then why didn’t I?”

Morgan shrugged. “You like her, and you’re scared.” Derek leaned forward slightly, his voice low and earnest. "Listen, man," he began, his gaze unwavering. "You're a great guy. Smart, kind, thoughtful—you've got so much to offer. Y/N is lucky to have you in her life."

Spencer swallowed hard, the weight of Derek's encouragement settling warmly in his chest. He had always valued his friend's opinion and respected his insights. Hearing Derek affirm his worth, especially in the context of his feelings for you, gave him a newfound sense of courage.

"You've gotta man up, Spence," Derek continued his tone firm yet supportive. "Life's too short to hold back. You know what you want—now go out there and get your girl."

Spencer nodded, a determined spark igniting in his eyes. He knew Derek was right. It was time to confront his feelings head-on, to take the leap of faith he had been avoiding for too long. You deserved to know how he felt, and he deserved the chance to see where their relationship could go.

"Thanks, Derek," Spencer said sincerely, his voice tinged with gratitude. "I needed to hear that."

Derek clapped him on the shoulder, a reassuring smile spreading across his face. "Anytime, kid. Now go make a move before someone else beats you to it," he teased lightly, the familiar twinkle of mischief returning to his eyes.

Spencer waded through the crowd. He reached you almost immediately. You smiled, quietly stepping away from the conversation to talk with him. “I made it! Sorry for not telling you earlier that I was late. Time just got away from me.”

“It’s okay. I’m glad you’re here.”

You smiled, looking around. You swayed along to the music.

“Hey, Y/N.” He blinked momentarily, lost in your eyes. “I… I just wanted to-” he huffed. “I’m sorry I’m not making any sense.”

You shook your head. “Take your time,” you said softly. “We have all the time in the world.”

He took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. "I wanted to say that… um, you know, I really enjoy working with you. And… and I value our friendship a lot." His words stumbled over each other, forming a disjointed confession that fell short of what he truly wanted to say.

Your expression softened, a gentle warmth in your eyes as you nodded. "I feel the same way, Spencer. You're a great colleague and friend."

Relief washed over him, mingled with a pang of regret at his inability to articulate his deeper feelings. "Thanks," he managed, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush. "I… I should go."

He was gone before you could respond. He sat down at the BAU table, trying to forget what just happened by half listening to a discussion over the appropriate level of drunk for a work function. As the evening progressed, Spencer found himself increasingly restless. The encounter with you replayed in his mind, each word scrutinized and analyzed. He was on the verge of getting up and leaving when the awards ceremony began. The room quieted as the host took the stage, announcing the start of the awards. Spencer shifted uncomfortably in his seat, the idea of being celebrated the furthest thing from his mind. He scanned the crowd, his eyes seeking you out, but you were nowhere to be seen.

"And now, for the recognition of ten years of service at the BAU, we honor Dr. Spencer Reid."

The applause was thunderous as Spencer's name was called. He stood, a mixture of surprise and pride swelling in his chest. His colleagues clapped enthusiastically, their faces beaming with admiration and support. He made his way to the stage, accepting the plaque with a humble smile.

As he stood there, the applause continued to fill the room, a tangible expression of the respect and camaraderie he had earned over the years. Looking out at the sea of familiar faces, he saw Derek, Hotch, JJ, Emily, Rossi, and even Garcia, all cheering him on. The moment was bittersweet, filling his heart with warmth and gratitude, yet tinged with the absence of the one person he longed to see.

He stepped down from the stage, the applause still echoing in his ears. As he returned to the BAU table, the sense of accomplishment was overshadowed by the lingering ache in his heart. He scanned the room once more, hoping to catch a glimpse of you, but you were still missing.

Derek leaned over, his voice low. "You did great up there, man."

"Thanks," Spencer replied, his voice distracted. "But I didn't see Y/N."

Derek's expression softened. "She's around here somewhere. Don't worry, man. You'll get your chance."

As he pressed the button and waited for the elevator, his mind was a chaotic blend of thoughts and feelings. He clutched the plaque, a tangible symbol of his dedication and hard work over the past decade. But his thoughts kept drifting back to you, the one person he hadn't seen since his awkward confession. The elevator arrived with a soft ding, and Spencer stepped inside, leaning against the cool metal wall. He closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady himself.

Just as the doors began to close, a familiar voice called out. "Hold the elevator!"

Spencer's eyes snapped open, and he instinctively reached out to press the 'Open' button. The doors parted again, and there you were, stepping inside with a grateful smile.

"Thanks, Spencer," you said, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "I was starting to think I'd be stuck here all night."

Spencer's heart raced as he tried to compose himself. "No problem," he managed to say, his voice steady despite the tumultuous emotions swirling inside him.

The doors closed, and the elevator began its descent. The two of you stood in comfortable silence for a moment, the only sound the soft hum of the machinery.

"So, how did the rest of the night go for you?" you asked, breaking the silence.

"It was… nice," Spencer replied, his mind still processing the evening's events. "But I needed a break. It was a lot to take in."

You nodded in understanding. "Yeah, these events can be overwhelming. I get it." You fiddled with your dress. "Thank you for coming."

Spencer glanced at you, noticing the way the dim light of the elevator highlighted your features. He felt a surge of affection and determination. This was his chance to tell you how he felt, to finally be honest with himself and with you. Before he could gather the courage to speak, you looked at him with a hopeful expression. "Hey, do you think you could give me a ride home? I wasn't really in the mood to stay any longer, and I could use the company."

Spencer's heart swelled with relief and excitement. "Of course," he said, his voice warm. "I'd be happy to."

The elevator reached the ground floor, and the doors opened to the quiet lobby. The two of you stepped out together, walking side by side toward the exit. The cool night air greeted you as you left the building, a refreshing change from the warmth of the gala. Spencer led you to his car, unlocking it with a click of the remote. You both settled into the seats, the familiar scent of the car bringing a sense of comfort. As he started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot, Spencer stole a glance at you, his resolve strengthening.

The drive was mostly quiet, the city lights casting a gentle glow on the streets. Spencer's mind raced with thoughts of how to start the conversation, but every time he opened his mouth, the words seemed to vanish.

Finally, you broke the silence. "Spencer, I just wanted to say thank you for being such a good friend. You've been there for me in ways I can't even begin to describe."

Spencer's grip tightened on the steering wheel. This was his moment. He took a deep breath, summoning all the courage he could muster. “I really appreciate you too, Y/N.”

You grinned at him. “Take a left on Wilcox Ave.”

“Your apartment is a right turn?”

“Just do what I say,” you smiled.

Spencer followed your directions, curiosity piqued as he navigated the quiet streets. The city lights gradually faded, replaced by the serene darkness of a park. He parked the car, glancing over at you with a mixture of confusion and anticipation.

You stepped out of the car, taking off your shoes and feeling the cool grass beneath your feet. Spencer hesitated for a moment before following your lead. You wandered toward a pond, the full moon reflecting off the still water like a mirror. The air was crisp and refreshing, filled with the subtle sounds of nature.

"This is beautiful," Spencer murmured, taking in the tranquil scene. You smiled, looking around. "I come here when I need to think. It helps clear my mind."

Spencer watched as you walked closer to the pond, your silhouette framed by the moonlight. He felt a rush of affection, the moment surreal and perfect. You turned to him, your eyes reflecting the same light as the water.

"Do you remember that episode of Star Trek we watched last week?" you asked, your voice breaking the silence.

Spencer nodded, stepping closer. "Yeah, 'The City on the Edge of Forever.' One of my favorites."

You sighed, a small frown forming on your face. "I didn't really get the part where they had to let Edith die to restore the timeline. It seemed so cruel."

Spencer's heart ached at your words, understanding your confusion. "It's a pivotal moment in the series. It shows the complexity of time travel and the moral dilemmas that come with it. Sometimes, to preserve the greater good, difficult choices have to be made."

You nodded slowly, processing his explanation. "But still, it just felt so unfair. She was such a good person."

"She was," Spencer agreed. "And that's what makes it so impactful. The sacrifice was necessary, but it wasn't easy. It makes you question the cost of doing the right thing."

You sat down on the grass, looking out at the water. Spencer joined you, feeling the cool earth beneath him. The conversation flowed naturally, shifting from Star Trek to other shared interests. You laughed and debated, your voices mingling with the sounds of the night. As the time passed, Spencer felt a deep sense of contentment. This was what he cherished most about your friendship—the ability to connect on such a profound level. He glanced at you, your face illuminated by the moonlight, and felt a surge of emotion.

"Y/N," he began softly, his heart pounding. "I need to tell you something."

You looked at him, curiosity and warmth in your eyes. "What is it, Spencer?"

He took a deep breath, summoning all the courage he had. "I value our friendship more than anything, but I also have deeper feelings for you. I've been trying to sort through them, and I realized that I'm in love with you."

You paused, your eyes widening in surprise. Spencer's heart sank, misinterpreting your silence. "I-I'm sorry if I crossed a line," he stammered, his voice shaky. "I didn't mean to make things awkward. Forget I said anything."

Before he could turn away, you reached out, gently cupping his face in your hands. Without a word, you leaned in and kissed him softly. The world seemed to stop for Spencer, his mind reeling as he processed what was happening.

When you pulled back, your eyes were warm and tender. "I knew," you whispered, a soft smile playing on your lips.

Spencer blinked, his mind struggling to catch up. "You… you knew?" You nodded, your smile growing. "Yeah, I did. And I feel the same way."

A wave of relief and joy washed over Spencer. "But how did you know? And how did everyone else know before me?"

You laughed softly, the sound like music to his ears. "You're not exactly subtle, Spencer. The way you look at me, the little things you do… it was pretty clear."

Spencer felt his cheeks flush, a mix of embarrassment and happiness. "I thought I was being discreet."

You shook your head, still smiling. "Not at all. But it's okay. I like that about you."

Spencer's heart soared, the weight of his unspoken feelings finally lifting. He pulled you into a hug, holding you close as the moonlight bathed you both in its gentle glow. As the first light of dawn began to break, you stood up, brushing the grass from your clothes. "We should probably head back."

Spencer nodded, standing up and following you back to the car. The drive back was quiet, but this time the silence was filled with unspoken promises and a newfound understanding.

When you finally reached your apartment, you turned to him, your expression sincere. "Thank you for tonight, Spencer. And for being honest with me."

Spencer teetered on his toes. “Is it okay if I kiss you goodnight?”

You nodded, snaking your arms around his neck. His hands landed on your hips, lips catching yours. He pulled back. “That dress looks amazing on you.”

“Thank you,” you blushed. “Goodnight.”

Spencer let you go, taking a few steps backwards. “Goodnight.” You unlocked your apartment door, stepping in. You peeked through the door, watching Spencer push the elevator button. “Though,” you said, “I do need someone to help me take it off. Or else I might have to wear it to work on Monday.”

Spencer turned around, his eyes widening slightly. “It’d be a shame. You look amazing.”

You gave him a playful smile, opening the door a little wider. “Then come on in, Doctor.”

Spencer hesitated for a moment, his mind racing with thoughts. But the invitation in your eyes was clear, and the warmth in your smile reassured him. He stepped forward, crossing the threshold into your apartment.

The door closed behind him, shutting out the world and leaving just the two of you in the cozy, dimly lit space. The air was thick with anticipation, but also a comforting familiarity. You turned your back to him, sweeping your hair to one side. "The zipper's a bit tricky," you said softly.

Spencer approached slowly, his hands trembling slightly as he reached for the zipper. He carefully pulled it down, the sound loud in the quiet room. His fingers brushed against your skin, sending shivers down both your spines.

"There," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You turned to face him, the dress slipping slightly off your shoulders. "Thank you," you murmured, your eyes meeting his.

Spencer felt his breath catch in his throat, the moment charged with unspoken emotion. "You're welcome," he replied, his voice husky.

You took a step closer, closing the distance between you. "Spencer," you began, your tone serious now. "I meant what I said earlier. I do feel the same way about you. I just didn't know how to tell you."

He reached out, gently cupping your face in his hands. "I'm glad you did. And I'm glad I finally found the courage to tell you."

You smiled, leaning into his touch. "So what now?"

Spencer's heart raced, but he felt a newfound confidence. "Now, we see where this takes us. One step at a time."

You nodded, your smile widening. "I like that plan."

Spencer leaned in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in this perfect moment. When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, but filled with a sense of rightness.

"Stay?" you asked softly, your eyes searching his.

Spencer nodded, his heart swelling with affection. "I'd love to."

You led him further into the apartment, the future uncertain but promising, filled with the possibilities of love and discovery. As the night wore on, you both knew that this was the beginning of something beautiful and real.

Bonus: “She left without her purse?” Emily asked, slightly hungover from the night before. She squinted, holding a hand up to shield her from the sun.

Derek shrugged. “Reid didn’t answer this morning when I stopped by. He was a mess about Y/N and he just disappeared.”

“Do you think there’s something wrong?”

“Let’s find out.” Derek knocked firmly, but there was no answer. He knocked again, louder this time, but the silence from the other side of the door persisted.

Emily exchanged a worried glance with Derek. “Maybe she’s just asleep?” she suggested, though she didn’t sound convinced.

Derek sighed. “Or maybe she’s avoiding us. Either way, we need to make sure she’s okay.”

Just as they were about to knock again, Spencer swung the door open. hand. Before he could greet them, you came around the corner, your hair tousled and wearing one of Spencer’s oversized shirts.

“Is it the pancakes we ordered?” You asked cheerfully, but paused when you saw your guests.

Derek smirked, holding up the purse. “Nope, just your friendly neighborhood FBI agents, returning a forgotten item.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh my gosh, thank you so much! I completely forgot about it.”

You must have left it at the table when you spotted Spencer by the elevator.

Emily grinned, stepping forward. “Mind if we come in?”

Spencer hesitated for a moment before stepping aside. “Sure, come on in.”

They entered the cozy apartment, taking in the relaxed atmosphere and the aroma of fresh coffee. Derek and Emily exchanged amused glances at the sight of Y/N and Spencer clearly having spent the night together.

Emily nudged Derek with a knowing smile. “Well, this is cozy.”

You blushed but didn’t seem embarrassed. “We were just about to have breakfast. Would you like to join us?”

Derek shook his head, still smirking. “Thanks, but we’ve already eaten. Just wanted to make sure you got your purse back.”

Emily’s eyes twinkled as she looked at Spencer. “We also wanted to check on Reid. He kind of vanished last night.”

Spencer cleared his throat, trying to maintain his composure. “Yeah, sorry about that. It was a… complicated night.”

Derek chuckled. “No kidding. But it looks like it all worked out.”

You smiled, slipping your hand into Spencer’s. “It did. Thanks for bringing my purse, though. I would’ve been lost without it.”

Derek and Emily shared another glance, then Emily pulled out a ten-dollar bill and handed it to Derek with a smirk. She muttered something quietly.

Derek’s grin widened as he took the bill. “Make it ten.”

“Deal,” Emily replied, shaking his hand.

Spencer and you exchanged confused looks.

“What’s that about?” Spencer asked.

“Nothing you need to worry about,” Derek said, still smirking. “Just make sure to invite us to the wedding.”

[gentlebeardsbarngrill]

01/28/2024 Daily Crew Recap

TLDR; Hoist The Ads Charity Donations; Campaign Status Updates; Hunt For the Pirate Home Watch Party; General Morale; Past Renewal Campaign Comparisons; Cast & Crew Sightings; Upcoming Events: Pets for Pirates Jan 29; Love Notes; Daily Darby / Tonight's Taika

=Hoist The Ads Updates =

Looks like the voting is done, and the results are in! @gingerlyvibing was kind enough to break down how much is going where. Just a reminder-- you all made this happen! Everything over the $10K it cost to get the billboard is going to help out these awesome charities! Links to threads: Tumblr / Twitter

Funnily enough, apparently one of the trucks still has the ads on it

== How To Help ==

How To Help Save OFMD Task List - US

How to Help Save OFMD Task List - Outside US

I'm helping some folks over on FB get similar/ the same updates right now, if anyone would like to help give me feedback I'd appreciate it, please just PM me! I have a couple ideas and I want to run them by folks.

== Status Updates ==

Good news! Wb is still having trouble recovering, as it should. Thanks @btweenhisteeth on twitter

==Petition Status==

Over 82K -- going slow, but still ticking up! Takes time all, especially since we're focused on the networks right now. Don't give up!

== Hunt For The Pirate Home Watch Party ==

Had some great turn out all over the world today for the Hunt For the Wilder People watch party. Thank you again to @dandeebakes for getting those coordinated!

Saw some great trends during it, and a lot of people having fun. If you haven't actually seen the movie, I highly recommend it, it's incredibly good!

==General Morale==

So despite things being fairly quiet today, the general vibe from folks has been that we're just in a holding pattern and we're just gonna keep clowning and polite menacing until we hear more word.

== Other Cancelled Series Comparisons ==

Something cool that I saw more of today was several groups doing comparisons with other cancelled TV Shows. Thank you to @OFMDCrew for these stats on twitter.

After they were posted, I did hear conflicting feelings on these (some felt it helped raise their mood, some felt it made it worse). So I wanted to point out a few things:

1. We've done a hell of a lot in 3 weeks (and signatures were our priority for most of the first two weeks, but once David Jenkins lit the beacon 8 days ago, we changed our focus). 2. We had a leadership change mid-all of this with Renew As A Crew. 3. Oh and there's other stuff in the world going on (Palestine) 4. As @saltpepperbeard says in their post "David only posted his "call to arms" just a little over a week ago. Eight days ago." So much has changed and we've STILL accomplished so much in that time too.

We are kicking ass, we really are, I promise you!

Across Twitter / IG / and Tumblr, several people have mentioned they feel like something's "in the air". That's totally a second hand "I have a feeling" thing but as you probably remember, quite a few of us had that as a bad feeling the morning before the show got cancelled. Now, if you're not into that kinda thing-- I would like to mention, that could just be because this crew is so fucking awesome, and that's why the vibe is so good-- because we're leaning on each other and take care of each other. Also when lovely people like @saltpepperbeard (as referenced above) write lovely responses to asks that can always help too. This post made ME feel better, I recommend giving it a read for a little perspective :)

= Cast & Crew Sightings =

1. The weekend is still pretty scarce as usual. Our pirate queen Ruibo Qian has been enjoying a lot of everyone's artwork lately. 2. Nathan Foad announced his con dates 3. Renewal Campaign Related: mostly seeing updates again from our boi Erroll Shand supporting the campaign.

== Pets For Pirates ==

Tomorrow, Jan 29, there will be a Pets for Pirates Even! Share your Pet pictures and use the hashtags:

#PetsForPirates

#AdoptOurCrew

#SaveOFMD

==Love Notes==

I know, I know "Jeez Abby, Shut Up We Already Know How Awesome We Are" Well good! Cause you should! But that won't stop me from saying so again! I'm serious when I say the vibe is so good right now in general because we have such a great crew. You all take such good care of each other and it shows every single day. You helped raise an extra $11,578 that are now going to charities that are going to help so many families, and kids, and that's just from the extra stuff from the Hoist The Ads Campaign -- not including everything else going on. I'm going to include a picture from one of my favorite people @thelatestkate because she does awesome work, and this one applies significantly to all of you. <3

Daily Darby/Tonights Taika

Tonights gifs are brought you by the wonderful @celluloidbroomcloset's Posts: Rhys / Taika

I'm literally watching Green Lanturn this moment because I needed to remember this youngin Taika, so thank you / no thank you for that, but hey I've watched worse for Rhys so I guess I can't complain.

Goodnight Lovelies <3

[the-guilty-writer]

No One Goes Hungry in this Mansion

Request from anon: Rossi x Daughter!Reader where she has been overworking herself and basically forgot to eat so she almost passes out and he cooks for her?🤍

David Rossi x daughter!reader

Summary: It's rare that anyone living in the Rossi household is hungry, but sometimes work gets in the way. When it does, your dad knows exactly how to fix it.

A/N: I have far too much fun writing rossi!daughter... even the slightly angsty ones are so nice and fluffy and sarcastic and I love it so much. I hope you love it too!

CW: reader forgets to eat, not a lot of Italian in this one (sorry), rossi being the best dad

---

You sat on the floor of your bedroom with your papers spread out in front of you. Next week there were final exams and to say that you were stressed was an understatement. You had only taken two classes this semester, but you were a TA for a professor that taught three classes and that was far more work. For weeks, you had been running around like a chicken with your head cut off trying to keep up with studying and working at the same time.

“Mio passerotta!” You were so focused on organizing and planning the upcoming week that you hadn’t even heard the sound of the door as your dad enter the house. “I’m home!”

“Ciao, papa!” You called, continuing to work on organizing your notes for a study session you were hosting.

Rossi knocked on your door before entering. He looked around the room. “Why does it look like a tree was murdered?”

You rolled your eyes. “Well you can look around for a weapon or a signature but you won’t find one unless printer ink and pencil count.” You put aside the packet of requirements for the study guide you had to make and shoved another stack of notes- this one for your math final- in a different binder.

“Okay, well it’s already past midnight. You should really be asleep.”

With a furrowed brow you looked up at the clock on your wall- you hadn’t noticed how much time had passed.

“Why did you come home so late? Don’t you guys get off at six on Fridays?” You asked your dad.

“Aaron and I went out after work, just to have fun,” Rossi said.

“Let me guess, you went to a single-dads-in-suits meeting?” You smirked.

Rossi rolled his eyes dramatically. “Actually we were at the country club for their bi-annual whisky tasting night.”

“Ah, so an old and rich single-dads-in-suits meeting.”

Your dad sighed. He couldn’t say anything about your sense of humor- you got it from him after all. “Anyway, I just came to say goodnight.” He placed a gentle kiss on top of your head. “Buona notte.”

“Buona notte, papa,” you replied. He closed the door behind him as he left, allowing you to finish your work in silence.

You sighed and looked at all the things you still had to go through. Rossi was right- you did need sleep. But you also had to get this finished. “After I get this done I will go to bed,” you promised yourself. You also knew it wasn’t going to happen.

---

You woke up to a text from your dad: the team had a case and it looked like they would be gone for a few days. Normally you would be disappointed, seeing as Saturday morning frittata making wouldn’t be happening, but it meant that the mansion would be entirely quiet for 24 hours at the very least which gave you the perfect study environment.

After getting ready for the day, you set your materials up in the living room and got to work. You set off to work through your list one by one in order of priority. Hours into working you managed to put a dent in the tasks you had to do thanks to your dad’s premium coffee maker. You even thought about rewarding yourself with a break after finishing the next chapter in your textbook when you got a call from your friend.

She was in tears, unable to get through one of the problems on the study guide. It was nearly ten o’clock at night, but you agreed to meet her at the library anyway. By the time you left the library your friend was doing far better, though you were exhausted. You grabbed a water bottle and a candy bar from the vending machines, not bothering to look at your phone until you got to your car. It was almost 2 AM. Having put your phone on silent so you didn’t get yelled at by an angry old librarian, you’d missed a midnight text from your dad letting you know the case was going to keep them for at least another day. You sent him a quick text back, telling him to be safe, before driving home.

Not having the energy to walk up the stairs, you made yourself comfortable on the couch for the night. You had one more day of quiet before the week started and things got even more busy, so you decided to allow yourself to sleep a little later than planned- till 8 AM instead of 6 AM. As soon as your alarm was set you were out like a light.

---

The case didn’t close until Wednesday morning and due to the weather the jet didn’t land until it was dark outside. It had been a rough one- particularly for the parents on the team- and there was nothing more that David Rossi wanted than to hug his daughter. He was thankful to see your car in the driveway when he arrived home.

“(Y/N)!” he called out when he entered the foyer, dropping his go-bag on the floor.

“In here!” you called back.

“Where’s ‘here’?” He imagined you rolling your eyes at his response, but he knew your voice was coming from the dining room.

You were sitting at the head of the mahogany table, switching between writing something on paper and then going back to your laptop. There were textbooks and binders and papers scattered on the table. It was truly a mess.

“Hi, papa,” you greeted him. After what he’d been through the last five days, he was sure that he would look worse than you, but the bags under your eyes were clear evidence that you hadn’t gotten much sleep and the papers told him you were working far too hard. He didn’t need to be a profiler to determine that. “Sorry for the mess. How was the case?”

“I’m glad it’s over.” He put a hand on your shoulder and pressed a kiss to your temple. “Your finals should be over too. Weren’t they both on Monday?”

You sighed heavily. “Yes. I did well on both of them. The students in the class I TA for decided to leave all their questions until the last minute and a few people have questions about the classes I took last semester so I’m still working.”

Rossi looked at your weary eyes and pale complexion, then at the table. There wasn’t an empty glass or crumb-covered plate in sight. “Mio passerotta, when was the last time you ate something?”

“I’m not sure,” you admitted. “A few hours ago?” It was more of a question than an answer.

“Why don’t you take a break?” Rossi said. “I was really looking forward to trying a new recipe for our Sunday frittatas.”

You sighed. “Sounds good.” You rose to your feet, feeling dizzy and unsteady. Your face blanched and your dad caught you before you fell.

“Let’s go lay down,” he said quietly. He guided you to the living room and helped you lay down on the couch. “I’ll be right back. Don’t try to get up.”

All you could do was nod and mumble an “Okay” in response. He came back with a bottle of water and helped you take a sip. After a few minutes you were able to down about half the bottle and sit up, but you continued to rest your head against the couch cushions, still feeling ill.

“Are you okay if I go do something?” Rossi asked you.

“Yeah,” you replied, taking a heavy breath.

“I’ll just be in the kitchen. Just yell if you start to feel worse.”

You nodded and your dad left. You could hear him in the kitchen behind you, his shoes against the flooring as he moved around, the refrigerator door opening and closing, the sizzle of something hitting a hot pan on the stove.

You closed your eyes in an effort to get your head to stop spinning, taking a sip of water when you could manage it.

“Okay.” Your dad came back and sat on the edge of the couch, a plate in his hand. “It’s the new recipe, so I don’t know how good it will be.” He set the plate down on your lap. On it was a perfect frittata, complete with leafy greens and vegetables.

You took a small bite of the dish. Like everything your dad cooked, it tasted like something straight out of a five star restaurant in Italy. You sighed happily and took another bite.

“Good?” Rossi asked.

“So good,” you replied. Your dad began eating his own meal, reminding you to take a sip of water every once in a while.

You finished your dish. The color had come back to your face and you were more aware than before.

“Thanks, papa,” you said.

“Of course.” He smiled at you. “You need to stop working so hard.”

You smiled back at him. “I wonder where I got my work ethic from.”

Rossi sighed. “Well, you need to remember to eat something next time. There should be no such thing as hungry in this house.”

"I thought it was a mansion," you said.

"Then no one goes hungry in this mansion."

[ingravinoveritas]

david tennant as hedwig fancast: yay or nay?

Ohh, boy. Well, when I first read this, my immediate thought was "Hell yay, but he'd have to fight Michael for it." Haha.

I love that we have this video of Michael just a few years ago talking about desperately wanting to play Hedwig, and you're asking about the possibility of David as Hedwig. It's become almost a long-running joke about how Michael and David have always been up for the same parts/thought of as being the same "type" of actor, so it seems entirely fitting that I could easily see either one of them as Hedwig...but they would give very different interpretations/versions of the character.

So I could see this being something very much like what Michael and David have talked about before, about having a "retirement plan" where they are doing a theatrical touring production of Good Omens and swapping roles every night. Maybe one of them plays Hedwig and one plays Yitzhak one night, and then swapped the next? Or within the same show, Michael/David plays Hedwig for half the show and Yitzhak for the other half? The possibilities really are quite numerous...

I did have the opportunity to see John Cameron Mitchell as Hedwig on Broadway years ago and he was absolutely transcendent in the role, to where it's almost impossible for me to picture anyone else. But in thinking of your question along with the physical demands of the role (and knowing how much David lived up to the task of playing Macbeth), I think David could definitely handle the physicality of Hedwig. I'd also love to hear him sing "Sugar Daddy" (for oh so many delicious reasons...) and I think he would kill it on "The Origin of Love." That's not even getting into how gorgeous David would look in the costumes, of course. Even the drag outfit he wore in Much Ado has some shades of Hedwig to it, in fact (mainly the denim skirt, stockings, and boots)...

So yes, I would absolutely have to vote in the affirmative for a David Tennant fancast of Hedwig, with or without Michael Sheen. Please, universe, let's make it happen...

[mlmxreader]

Can't Let You Go | David Hesh Walker x gn!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ Pssst.... what if, hear me out here... I know "I think he's come back for his noon feeding" is from Jaws but!!! It's Y/N feeding people to their beloved that got turned into a zombie because they just CANNOT let go. Beloved in question is Hesh.

Optional but would be very funny if Logan helped capture victims because "It's not too different from hunting deer." and he also can't let Hesh go. The brother in law helps out.

Also optional, but would be interesting if Hesh could somewhat remember things even un-dead. Like Y/N tells him "I love you." and he'll sign it back because muscle memory or some shit. Establish a bit of motive for the whole "Letting my dead boyfriend murder and eat you." thing. - @tokillamockingbird427 ❞

: ̗̀➛ You're the only to blame for what happens to him, yet even still, between you and Logan, nobody can be quite sure who is less willing to part ways with him even though they know they should.

: ̗̀➛ swearing, smoking, graphic depictions of corpses, fatal injuries described in detail, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, murder, gun violence

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

You blamed yourself for it, more than anything, knowing that the others had done everything that they could whilst you were over with a different task force doing some training; it was your fault that he had gotten that way. Your fault that he turned into a monster.

You should have known that the people they were after would have used the gas; infecting Hesh when he was alone in the control room.

You should have protected him, and look what you had done; he was far from the Hesh you had fallen in love with.

His beautiful, smooth skin was now covered in dried blood, the white cloth he had tried to use to protect himself was melted into his skin and had torn open to expose his fleshless jaw. Hanging on by tendons, dribbles of blood staining the once white fabric.

His skin was grey, pale and thick like a dying scab. Claw marks on his head where he had tried to fight the infection. His right eye was completely gone, melted from his skull and exposing the deep and empty socket; you could see right through to the back of his skull.

Bits of bubbled flesh stuck to his lower eyelid. A hole in the side of his neck where he had tried to kill himself in desperation, blistered flesh around the entry point. His hands were cracked and blistered, skin hanging off in thick scabs constantly, all up to his shoulders.

He could hardly speak, the words sounding more like an imitation of human speech; he sounded human in voice, but the words were just wrong. You had done this. It had all been your fault.

You and Logan knew you couldn’t let him go out on his own, knew that he couldn’t be given up to the US military; you also both knew that you needed Hesh, you needed him around. A life without Hesh… you didn’t want to imagine it, and neither did Logan.

Logan had never been without his big brother, and you had been Hesh’s significant other for so long that you just couldn’t stomach the thought of being without him anymore.

Together, you and Logan took Hesh to a cabin in the woods that you had been left in an inheritance; you put up six foot tall fences made of thick wood with a doggy door that only opened if Riley’s microchip was scanned, and ensured that the rest of the property was littered with barbed wire and traps to make absolutely sure that no one would ever find Hesh.

No cellular phones. No internet. No computers. Never anything that could ever be tracked to the location, not even burner phones.

Nobody else was ever allowed to know; Logan told Elias and Keegan that he was going to see some friends for a while whenever he came to visit Hesh, and you had no one to talk to anyway so you didn’t really need to worry about anyone finding out.

You moved into the cabin, Logan could only ever visit when he could manage to get away. It worked well enough, though, nobody in, nobody out except you and Logan.

If he ever felt like he was being followed, he would immediately drive past the cabin and head down to the local hotel; sign in under his own name, and remain there until it was time for him to go back to Elias’s house.

Never risk anything.

You were both adamant about that.

But every day, even though it always came back the same, you would always check Hesh’s state over and you would always try and clean up some of the wounds; he would sit there patiently, watching you with such softness in his eyes that it was almost hard to believe that he wasn’t fully human anymore.

No heartbeat. No respiratory rate. No reaction to being tapped on the knees or elbows. He didn’t bleed when he got paper cuts from thorns he picked up. He didn’t feel anything when he bumped into objects around the cabin. Never even flinched.

He didn’t sleep. He didn’t produce any bodily fluids like sweat, drool or mucus. He was a rotted corpse, through and through, but he didn’t seem to be rotting even more; like the gas had caused him to decompose up to a certain point and then let him be.

You almost wondered if they did it in hopes of creating soldiers, but you didn’t really care.

Hesh was still mostly himself; still pressed himself to your back when he saw you cooking, still nuzzled into you at night while you slept, still smiled and grinned when he saw you singing and dancing as you put the washing away.

He was still free to roam during the day, though, having access to everything within the six foot tall fence at least; it spanned quite a large area, but you still worried.

You checked every day to make sure that every panel was secure so that he wouldn’t get out and get caught by someone who wouldn’t understand.

Didn’t change the fact that he was always so fucking cold to the touch, though. His fingers always felt like ice, and his lips never failed to make you shiver; it took a while to get used to it when he peppered kisses along your neck like he used to when he came home from deployment.

But like every other being on the planet, Hesh still needed to feed; he still needed to eat, and you and Logan knew what you had to do; you knew that Logan was a skilled hunter, but you still felt bad about asking even though you knew he would agree - you still felt bad about asking him to do such a thing, knowing how much it would hurt you both.

But you had to keep Hesh going, you couldn’t let him fade away, you couldn’t let him leave - neither of you were ready for that, you needed him.

It started out small.

Logan would go hunting in the woods when tourism was slower and there were less people around to notice him going after whatever game there was; he would hunker down, wait for one to become separated from the herd to get lost, and then take the shot when it wasn’t looking.

He made sure to never use his car, and to always be within walking distance; leaving the prey on the small table you had made for Hesh. He would wash his hands of the blood he had spilled, watching Hesh bite chunks from the large carcass, tearing it apart with grunts and growls.

But it was only deer, that was all; it was only ones that ever became separated from the herd, and it was only ones that wouldn’t really be noticed. 

“We can’t keep this up,” Logan whispered. “Someone’s gonna find out - I know it’s only… deer. But still.”

You frowned, knowing that he was right. “We need to find a new herd, that’s all… there’s an unmarked, inconspicuous trailer… it’s big enough for a deer or two… and you can attach it to the car. Just say you’re using it to help someone move.”

“And the blood?” Logan asked with a raised brow. 

“I’ve got some buck fur,” you admitted. “And antler velvet, a few hooves leftover from old taxidermy - covers it up nicely.”

Logan nodded, pursing his lips as he looked over at Hesh, who was reaching into his chest; the flesh separated easily, a gaping hole of pale grey flesh hanging open like putty, when he heard a crack, Logan growled softly.

“Hesh! No!”

Hesh looked at Riley, then back at Logan, pouting. “Fetch?”

“No!” Logan commanded, huffing loudly. “Not with your own ribs!”

You whirled around, looking at what Hesh had done and sighing heavily. “Oh, baby… come here, let’s get that sorted.”

Hesh looked at you sadly as you examined the open hole. “Bad?”

You shook your head, looking up at him as you sighed and dared to gently kiss his scarred forehead. “You’re not bad, Hesh… you’re okay. You just made a little mistake ‘s all.”

He nodded slowly, sighing. “Miss. Be. Warm.”

Your breath hitched a little as you swallowed thickly. “I know… I know…”

He outstretched his arm, a loud peeling sound coming from the insides of his elbows where the flesh was full of sharp scaps; taking a step forward, he tilted his head down slightly.

Even in death, that fucker still knew how to use the puppy dog eyes with only just one eye, and you couldn’t fucking resist; wrapping your arms around him and letting him snuggle into you as you held him.

It seemed like he couldn’t get enough, trying to keep you as close as he possibly could and trying to get his hands under your clothes; yet he couldn’t feel the warmth against his hands, and he couldn’t tell if his own were getting colder or warmer.

He just knew that he missed the feeling of being warm, and that he missed being able to actually feel you; the sensation of sweating at night because you were snuggled into one another and he was overheating beneath the thick duvet.

You missed the feeling of his warm hands on your body, almost scared to touch him thanks to the ice; it made you feel like a part of you was missing, a chopped off limb. A removed organ. You sighed, your eyes thick with tears as you sniffled, letting him go and gently kissing his cold, cracked lips.

“Logan?”

“Yeah?”

“Do me a favour,” you told him, turning away from Hesh.

Logan shrugged. “Sure.”

“Let me borrow your rifle,” you said, voice shaking. “I need to go hunting.”

Logan silently pointed over to where he had left it, and watched as you and Riley left the fenced off area, leaving him alone with his brother. He looked at him, studying his brother's features. He knew that it was still Hesh; when he looked into that sad, singular eye, he could still see his brother trapped within it.

Yet his cheeks were completely gone, the flesh sloughed off long ago during the gas attack, leaving the sides of his jaws hanging on by tendons and strings from the stained cloth. His hands were blistered and bloodied, no longer the calloused hands of his elder brother who used to ruffle his hair when he was upset.

His arms were covered in thick, long scabs just like the scratches across his hairline. His chest was agape, the skin slapping against itself dryly when it caught the slight wind. Of course Logan knew that it was still his brother, it just didn't look like him anymore.

He swallowed thickly, pulling out a packet of cigarettes from his back pocket and offering one to him; Hesh took it, and put it in his mouth as Logan lit it. The smoke drifting into the hole in his skull where his eye used to be; up close, Logan could see the tunnel all the way to the back of Hesh's skull.

He could see the grey mass of lumpy muscle that should have been pumping and thumping, that should have been light pink and squishy. That should have been a brain. He watched as Hesh took a long drag, but never blew out the smoke again, and he frowned.

In every sense, it was Hesh, Logan knew that, but it was… he was wrong. He was Hesh, but he was wrong. But he was still Hesh, and Logan wasn’t ready to be without him - even if it meant having the wrong one.

He sniffled, daring to look at his brother’s remaining eye as he nodded slowly.

“Dad misses you, y’know,” he said, his voice shaking. “I wish I could bring him here, but… it’d hurt him… but he still talks about you all the time like you’re… still here.”

Hesh nodded. “Still here.”

“You were my big brother,” Logan started, tears in his eyes and his voice falling apart with every syllable that left his mouth.

He wished he could have had more time, he wished he could have even though he knew that he would never.

Still, he cleared his throat, and he dared to continue despite his voice giving out, “you protected me, you taught me how to do all the shit Dad wouldn’t - how to smoke, how to drink, how to misbehave, how to sneak into pubs without ID… and I’m lost without you. I was never… I never wanted to… to be alive without you, man. You were always meant to be there for me, you promised.”

Hesh frowned. “Still here… still brother.”

“I know,” Logan whispered, taking a shaky drag from his cigarette. “But you’re not… you’re not you… you’re not… you’re not alive anymore, and I… I can’t let you go because I can’t picture a life without my big brother.”

“Love,” Hesh growled out, his hands signing the words. Muscle memory. “Love you.”

A sob left Logan as he whimpered and did his best to steady himself. “I love you, too.”

Riley was crouched in the bush next to you, sniffing the air as you steadied Logan’s rifle, hunkered down, you used leaves to pad the gun so that it was even more silenced, and with the commotion from all the lorries nearby, nobody would ever hear a thing.

You had your eyes on the prey, and so did the dog beside you, ready to pounce if you needed him to; you watched as your prey took a few steps forward, right into your sites, and then you pulled the trigger.

It reached up to grab its neck, suddenly slumping to the side and twitching violently; you pulled the trigger again, and this time, an orange spray rained through the woods, and you could easily see that part of the head was missing.

It was done.

Riley ran over, sniffing it and making sure that it was dead before he sat down, waiting for you to come collect your prize; you sighed, grabbing the ankle and trying to ignore the bits of metal slapping your hand as you dragged it.

Riley was the first to go back, while you followed behind shortly after. The dog was happy, but as you hauled your prize onto the slaughter table, you couldn’t help but to feel slightly empty.

Usually, hunting helped you to clear your mind, but… not this time. 

Logan came over, Hesh following behind him, and he looked at what you had managed to get. “Good eating.”

You nodded, removing a boot and tossing it aside with a pile of others. Logan helped you to remove the coat, hat, scarf, gloves, shirt, trousers and underwear in total silence. “Check the coat for a wallet, same with the trousers.”

Logan nodded curtly, heading over to the clothing pile that was steadily starting to pile up against the fence. “On it.”

Hesh stood on the other side of the table, watching as you grabbed a knife. He brought his hands up, and smiled, daring to slowly sign four words: “you are my sunshine.”

You looked at him, and sniffled as you nodded. “My only sunshine.”

“You make happy,” Hesh told you, then pointed at the grey skies. “Even when.”

You couldn’t believe that he still remembered that song, the one you used to sing in the car together when he picked you up for date nights; the one that he was going to sing at your wedding. You wanted to sob, but nodded slowly as you swallowed thickly, watching him head over to his little food table.

You whistled at Logan, and pointed over. “I think he’s come back for his noon feeding.”

Logan nodded, daring to come over and aid you with chopping up the limbs and removing flesh from bone. “Is it wrong I still love him?”

You shook your head, daring to meet his gaze even though your own was teary. “No, because I still do, too… I know… I know he’s not our Hesh, but…”

“But you can’t imagine a life without him,” Logan whispered, picking up a pile of goopy, dripping flesh as he cleared his throat. “Nor me.”

You continued to grab what meat you could while Logan put what was done on Hesh’s table.

Immediately, he gathered up as much as he could in his hands, blood dripping from between his grey fingertips and staining his skin harshly.

He bit into it, a loud squelch echoing all around as he started to rip it apart; Logan could see the bits of flesh moving in his mouth through the holes in his cheeks, and was almost sick at the sight.

Still, he went back and picked up some more meat from your table before giving it to Hesh. 

“We need to burn all of this,” you told him, nodding at the piles of clothes and mouldy bones. “Or at least bury it.”

Logan nodded in agreement. “You got a shovel?”

“Back room in the cabin,” you told him, clearing your throat. “Logan?”

He hummed as he looked back at you.

“You’re the best brother-in-law I could ask for,” you told him sincerely. “Thank you.”

Hesh got up as Logan walked away, dragging himself over to where you were and planting his hands on the table as he glared at you, tilting his head to the side. “Love… love you… my… sunshine.”

He looked pleased with himself, and you just couldn’t help it, grinning as you nodded eagerly. “I love you, too, baby… go eat, you need it. We’ll have more for you tomorrow, alright?”

Hesh nodded, extending his hand and showing you what he had in it, gesturing for you to take some. “Eat.”

You looked at the boneless fingers, and you smiled. “Maybe in a minute, I gotta get all this cleaned up.”

Hesh left them on the table, nudging them your way. “Eat. Love.”

You sighed, licking your lips. “In a minute, I promise.”

He frowned, but reluctantly slunk back to his table; you weren’t really sure what to do, whether to engage in what could only be described as polite cannibalism, or to wait until Hesh was too busy to notice you throw them away.

But you supposed, you deserved such a torment; it was all your fault that Hesh had become what he did, and you knew that you could not change that even if you did your best.

You knew that you deserved such torment for letting him die, for not being able to save the man you loved so much. 

[chrzannekk]

Question If Camp Camp (Once the show gets picked up for season 5 again) hired you as a guest writer, and you got to write like a few episodes max, what would you write about?

OHHHH THIS IS A GREAT QUESTION !! i would definitely write more episodes involving the other camp leaders like pikeman and sasha !!! i actually had a idea where max sasha and pikeman swap and they have to complete a task with different people (sasha with the woodscouts, max with the flowerscouts and pikeman with camp campbell kids)

plot would involve some sort of camp competition similar to the camporee another episode id love to see from s5 would be a nikki focus one , because WHY WAS SHE SOOO WEIRD IN EPISODE 1 ?!?! I DONT GET IT it isn't just from max's peer pressure to not change SOMETHING IS UP WHY IS SHE ACTING SO WEIRD !! now that i think about it , i mostly just want more episodes focusing on the girls </3 I'm in desprate need of a new ered episode , or a sasha tabii and erin adventure OH ANOTHER IDEA I HAD WAS A FUCKING METAL GEAR SOLID EPISODE since snake is literally a metal gear reference , wouldn't it be funny if billy had a secret british twin brother called jimmy and they both had a older brother called timmy and it was all a parallel to solid/liquid snake as well as the big boss i also just want to see max do some gymnastics... doesn't have to be the focus of the episode. ACTUALLY SCRACTH THAT - CIRCLE BACK TO THE LEADER SWAP EPISODE MAX AND THE FLOWERSCOUTS AND SOME GYMNASTICS ARE INVOLVED W AN ACTIVITY THEYRE DOING GOD IM A GENIUS !!!!!!!!!! i also want another harrison episode. i love how in s4 the campers told him the illusionist shtick is getting old so now he's into conceptual magic. we need a conceptual magic episode where everyone looses their grip on reality and they go insane. actually no , harrison and the other campers would target cj and David , playing tricks on them and making them loose their sanity and then gwen tells the kids to knock it off. love that. also this is more of a theory than an episode idea but.. QM saying one of them wont leave this summer alive ? and cj and David are shown on frame ? we know David wont die because main character duh , but cj ..... cameron shows up , something happens and cameron kills cj I'm CALLING IT ( i cant really call anything anymore can i ? the show is dead for the foreseeable future. sigh... ) I ALSO WANT ANOTHER NERRIS ADVENTURE !! nerris !! more nerris !! i have no ideas for nerris but !! possible nerris and flowerscouts friendship being formed please !! I JUST WANT MORE OF THE OTHER CAMPS TO BE INVOLVEDDDD

[xxx-wounded-angel-xxx]

I saw that your requests were open?? Could I please request a fic for our lovely Felix?

Anything domestic in terms of how he would be privately with his mate? You can let your imagination run wild, I just need for Felix fluff in my life

Much love! 🤍

Thank you for your request ! Felix and fluff? You sure know very well what I enjoy to write, dear anon. It is a pleasure to fullfill this request for you :) I hope you will enjoy it !

Domestic Life with Felix - Romantic Evening

You were such a dreamy little thing; Felix was so grateful to have you in his eternal life. It was a nice change in his life, ever since you had taken his bloody hands in yours, kissing the knuckles of your true and loyal knight. He couldn’t have wished for a more loving mate, and he was now looking forward to every moment spent with you. Like now, after a day full of duties and hard work.

You had spent a good part of the day reading in the library, and the rest of the afternoon knitting your latest project while keeping Heidi company. Felix had promised to join you before you went for dinner. And as he promised, right before you were starting to get hungry Felix entered your shared quarters. You welcomed him like usual, with an adoring look in your eyes and a bright smile. Your Felix was back home in your arms!

You gave him a warm hug, and you felt him hide his face in the crook of your neck, gently kissing it. The two of you stayed like that for a little while, you knew he needed this peace and quiet after a long day at work, being one of the most important Volturi guard was not an easy task.

Once he broke the hug, your Felix led you to the kitchen installed in your temporary human quarters so that he could prepare dinner for you. You had stated many times that you could prepare your own food, but you had learnt to know that he loved the domestic aspect of it, so you quickly gave up, instead enjoying cooking with him. The fact that he was also a better cook than you achieved to convince you.

Now it was something he was looking forward to, to see your face light up as you would eat your favorite food that he prepared with love just for you.

Tonight was no exception, Felix lifted you and sat you on the counter, preparing your dinner, chatting and laughing, stealing kisses from your lips from time to time, and letting you taste whatever you expressed the want to.

Once dinner was ready, he set up the table, served you and sat with you. The first time he did, you thought it would be awkward to be the only one eating, but dinner time quickly revealed itself as a nice bonding moment for the two of you, to exchange about different subjects, and tonight was no exception.

Once you were done, Felix did the dishes, while you changed into your sleepwear, also brushing your teeth, to keep at bay the temptation of ice cream, that much sugar before going to bed was never doing you any good.

Tonight, you wanted to see Labyrinth again, and since Felix didn’t mind David Bowie and liked to see you happy, he obliged.

When you got back to the living room, the movie was ready to start and Felix handed you your favorite blanket, before snuggling with you and holding you tight. It was his favorite thing, he once told you, to hold you in his arms. It made him feel like your knight in shiny armor, keeping you safe, and you couldn’t agree more.

The movie started, and you enjoyed humming along the songs, until the scene of Sarah’s dream came onto the screen. Felix stood, and as As the world falls down started, he pulled you in his embrace, waltzing with you, enjoying your delighted laughter.

Once Sarah woke up,, the two of you resumed snuggling. When the movie ended, you couldn’t repress a yawn, and Felix carried you to your bed.

Settling under the covers, you nestled in his arms once again, and fell asleep easily, your soulmate being strong enough to ware off any nightmare.     

“Sweet dreams, Tesoro” he whispered softly in your ear as you fell asleep.

[damascus-crowned-king]

SHAW PACK FIC LETS GOOOO

proofread by the lovely @caelum-et-ocean

Also once again

I AM A SHITTY WRITER

THIS FIC IS PROBABLY ASS

Also kinda angsty

Enjoy

He needed to relax.

He needed to step away from being an alpha.

He needed his body to stop aching.

But most of all, He needed the love of his life.

After a 15 minute drive which felt like an hour due to exhaustion he finally made it home. His feet dragged out of the car and all the way to the stairs and front door. He was even exhausted getting his keys out of his pocket and unlocking the door.

With a creaky sound emitting from the door, he spoke softly as that was the only thing his tired voice could muster. "Angel, I'm home."

He was greeted with a soft, kind smile from his other half sitting on the couch. "Welcome back, handsome." He smiled back, but then his smile faded as he realized something unpleasant. "Did you sleep on the couch?" A sheepish smile arose from his question. "Would you be mad if I said yes?" He sighs. Not mad or disappointed. Simply worried. "Angel, you're sick. You shouldn't be sleeping on a stiff, uncomfortable couch while you're sick."

He sits down on the couch and holds his Angel close but not tight as that is the only way to calm himself down.

"Baby, sleeping on the couch for one night isn't gonna kill me! I'm not that fragile." 

"I know you're not that fragile… you're strong. But your body needs time and care for it to get better…  And sleeping on a shit couch is not taking care of your body. As hard as that might be to believe." A small chuckle erupted from the both of them. "Fineeee… You may have a point." "'May?'" "Ugghhh! You definitely have a point! Better?" He chuckles softly and pulls his angel into his chest, and gives a kiss on the cheek. "Better." "Oh, wipe that smug smirk off your fac-" a sentence was interrupted by a cough. And then another. And then a series of coughs…

Until blood is coughed out.

"Angel!" A voice filled with emergency and worry as he puts his hands on his Angel's  back as gently as possible. "Gabe, I'm fine, I promise. "No, you're not. Coughing up blood is far from fine!" His wife quickly rebutted, trying her best to calm her husband down. "And so is stressing about it, Gabriel…" she gently held his face in her hands, although the gentleness was partially because of her weakness.

She caressed his cheek in an attempt to soothe him. "I know it might be a hard task, but please don't stress. The most you can do is be here. And that's enough. 'Cause you've been here since we first started dating." She gave him a smile that was bright yet weak in order to ease his mind, and all He could do was silently let his tears fall while his wife held his face. "Gabriel…" She brought him to his chest and softly stroked his head. After a few minutes, Gabe finally spoke. Although it was barely over a whisper. "Thank God I got Frank to babysit so David isn't here to see this… He doesn't need to see his father like this…" she smiled solemnly. "I'll miss our boy… And I'll miss you too… I barely got to see him grow up and reach his full potential." her voice cracked, too full of emotion to speak properly. Gabe croaked out. "Don't say things that… Please don't." She laughed sadly. "You're right. What am I saying? We're gonna grow old. And we're gonna see our son at his wedding all fancied up. And then we're gonna be the amazing grandparents who spoil our grandchildren and child-in-law…" Gabe's wife's positivity made him smile and laugh. "You're right. That's exactly what's gonna happen. " He wiped his tears and kissed her, and she gladly accepted his lips. She whispered softly with her arms around his neck. "Let's go to bed, big guy." He picked her up with ease and carried her to their bed, and he gently laid her down and crawled in next to her. "Can I lay on your chest?" "Of course, Angel. You don't ever have to ask…" The sound of his heartbeat soothed her, and the feeling of her on his chest soothed him.

Until she spoke up. "You wanna know what's one of the worst things about me being sick?" "What, Angel." "You're not nearly as rough with me in bed as you used to. I mean, it's a real letdown!" He let out a surprised laugh. "Christ, Angel! You are a menace!" She giggled maniacally in his chest and held him close. "Well, since you love me because I'm a menace, I'll just take that as a compliment!" And she was right. Gabe did love her because she was a menace. But he also loved her for so much more than just that.

@why-me-marti @6-atlas-6 @theratisbackanditsinyourkitchen @justaclownwholikesducks @your-local-mom-whore @annahhopee @capitalisticveins @boeeswrld @zozosrandomthings @wippisboo @frog-0n-a-l0g @lemonnoodles @tanker-redactedaudio

[northwindow]

hey julia !! hope ur doing well... am asking u [instead of messaging!] this bc i imagine u might say some rly cool stuff that other ppl would love to see also lol... but i just wondered if u had any basic tips or resources about like developing a (short-term) writing routine? the context is not fiction writing but like academic but i feel like my academic writing is a creative practice so yeah, hope that makes sense! hope its okay to ask ! have a lovely day <3

hi anna marie! you ask the very question i need answered for myself… i am in a very slow place creatively so i feel silly to be giving advice! but i’ve been thinking about how to get things flowing again. very basic but helpful to me:

getting feedback from other people at a regular interval - i am very shy and this can feel like pulling teeth but it’s so worth it, i am always amazed how much it pushes me to finish things i would have otherwise languished on forever

reading a lot (of course) - it helps me to read a bit directly before starting to write. but also being intentional about it and having a defined list of inspiring works… i recently listened to david naimon interview joanna hedva and he asked them which writers were “squatting over” their latest book which i thought was a good way of putting it! i would like to curate a "squatters shelf" to dip into for inspiration on whatever project i'm working on

distinguishing between writing vs. editing time - this is hard for me because i am a very "edit as you go" type person but sometimes it's stifling! in another interview with tommy pico i heard him talk about his writing routine as very everything-goes, yes-and, accumulation-focused style on monday-thursday and then friday is reserved for finding what was good and refining it. i have always wanted to try this!

incorporating a degree of controlled randomness into the routine - whether it be randomizing where you physically work, what part of the project you work on, or brainstorming new ideas, i really enjoy drawing an option "out of a hat" (i hope that makes sense) at some stage of the writing process. i know i am going to be surprised and challenged by a guiding force even in a small way and want to see what’s going to happen.

something that has helped me a lot with routine in general is “habit stacking” i.e. trying to bundle a new task into something you already do regularly - i have not thought about how to do this with writing, but i have successfully bundled reading into drinking my morning coffee every day and it has changed my life significantly

also: i really like that you specified a short-term routine! i think temporary routines keep things interesting, help mark time, and more fully immerse me in things, so academia might be onto something with semesters etc… i am curious about trying to have a self-imposed writing “season” followed by an “off season” where i chill and eat peaches and watch the sopranos every night or whatever without guilt. (one might say i am chilling right now lol… but it’s definitely guilty chilling!) i also love that you see your academic project as a creative pursuit, i hope you are having a really fruitful time so far! ❤️