#but it’s anna’s birthday so that is my right!

[angelicsoka]

TWO WORLDS, j. drysdale

part one <3

word count | 0.8k

pairings | jamie drysdale x single mother!hughes!reader

summary | jamie finally meets the reader’s daughter, isla, and he has just the right thing to prove him worthy of her trust

warnings | not proofread. one use of “y/n”. lowercase intended. this is a work of fiction, i am by no means saying this is how they act in real life.

a/n | here’s part two to blind date! i cant wait to write more of jamie and isla, because they are literally so cute!!!

being a single mother and dating was never something you thought would work well together. well, that was until you met jamie drysdale. he had accepted from the first date that your daughter, isla, always came first. he had also accepted that it would take time for him to finally be introduced to isla, and he fully understood. he anticipated the day he would meet the little girl who your entire world revolved around. after about a month and a half of dating, you had finally decided it was time for your love to meet your baby girl.

jamie anxiously paced his shared apartment with trevor, mumbling to himself as he did so. trevor watched him from the couch, a small smile working its way onto his face. “jamie, dude, relax.” jamie glared at trevor before settling down on the couch beside him.

“z, what if she doesn’t like me?” jamie finally voiced his worries, trevor starting to laugh until he realized jamie was serious. “i really like y/n, and i really don’t want to mess this up.”

“isla will love you! i mean she adores me.” trevor tried to ease jamie’s nerves, but it didn’t do much. “look, if there is anyway to isla’s heart it’s frozen. the kid’s obsessed with it, i mean she literally had a frozen themed birthday party! if you want her to like you, you gotta listen to her talk about it. and trust me, she will talk about it.” jamie listened intently, a plan forming in his head.

a buzzing noise rang through your apartment as you rushed to the door to let jamie in. as he made his way up, you ran around, attempting to clean up the mess isla had decide to make just as jamie had text that he was on his way. “isla! dinner’s almost ready.” jamie knocked on your door, a smile creeping onto his face at the frazzled look on your face.

“hey, baby.” you smiled, kissing him lightly. “sorry for the mess. she found out you were coming over and got very excited.” jamie laughed as you let him in the apartment, taking the pizzas from his hands. “she just couldn't find the perfect dress to wear.” jamie looked around the homey apartment, toys scattered about. he walked further in, hands nervously tugging at the straps of his bag, taking in the comfort that was your apartment; he already felt at home.

“momma?” a voice spoke from down the hallway, a toddler appearing moments later. she had her thumb in her mouth, clearly nervous as she waddled toward you.

“hey, baby doll, there's someone i want you to meet.” you picked her up, walking over to jamie. “jamie meet my daughter, isla. isla, baby, this is mommy’s friend jamie!” jamie smiled kindly at the toddler, who buried her face in your neck as she smiled softly. “can you say hi, isla?”

“hi…” she spoke quietly, almost inaudible, taking a quick glance at jamie. 

“hi, isla, your momma’s told me a lot about you.” isla giggled softly at that, a smile building its way up to her face. “in fact, she told me about your favorite thing in the whole world: frozen.” jamie pulled his bag from off his shoulder, digging around until he found what he was looking for. he pulled out a two-pack doll set, which held elsa and anna, isla’s eyes widening when she saw it. she began to wiggle to get out of your arms, excitement in her eyes. “so, i got you this.” you put isla down, who made her way over to jamie, excited but still slightly cautious. 

you looked at jamie, shocked by his action. you knew he was nervous and wanted to impress her, but you hadn’t expected him to buy a thirty dollar toy for the first time he was going to be meeting her. “isla, love, what do you say?”

“thanks, ‘aime!” you smiled at your daughter as she hugged jamie’s legs, too quick for jamie to reciprocate. she took the toy, giving him a toothy smile before waddling off. 

“baby, why don’t we play with that after we eat, okay?” this seemed to frustrate isla, but she set the toy down nonetheless, taking the hand you offered. “you want to cheese or pepperoni?” 

“cheese.” she said, accepting the plate that held her slice of pizza on it.

“we’ll eat on the couch tonight, okay? we can watch a movie too.”

“frozen!” you laughed, looking to jamie who had been watching the two of you with love and awe. he snapped out of it, absentmindedly agreeing. “‘ome on, we gotta watch together!” isla grabbed jamie’s hand, pulling him to the couch. he looked back, a huge smile on his lips. 

you proceeded to grab pizza for both you and jamie, walking to join them on the couch. you set the plates down, grabbing your phone to take a picture of the sight in front of you: jamie was cutting isla’s pizza into smaller pieces as she rambled on and on about something. 

you smiled as he looked up, giving his pretty smile. in that moment, everything was perfect. 

[slim-jims-in-this-shit-hole]

❆ welcome to the twenty-five days of kinkmas: gallavich edition! ❆

- - - - -

day twenty: rewards for good behavior by @gallawitchxx

↳ rated E / one-shot / 1.4k / parolee au / dom/sub under & overtones

“Too bad,” Milkovich said, his scent of cigarettes and soap wafting egregiously into Ian’s space, and filling his mouth with spit. “I like what I see. Kinda wish I’d gotten to see you in cuffs, big guy.”

He was through the door and into the belly of the office before Ian’s brain came back online.

- - - - -

don't forget to leave kudos & comments when you read! xx

[januaryembrs]

NEARLY BROUGHT ME TO MY KNEES | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader [2]

Description: FIVE times Spencer thinks he might like you + the ONE time he knows.

Word length: 20k

Trigger Warnings: death, murder, Lauren arc, spencer's addiction mentioned, Diana's schizophrenia mentioned, vomit, alcohol, blood, usual criminal mind warnings. mommy AND daddy issues in the prentiss family.

previous chpt | next chpt

‘so sweet with a mean streak

nearly brought me to my knees.’

The one where he tries flirting

Emily tutted at her as the girl blindly shoved the Lucky Charms in her mouth, her tongue staining a gross blue-green colour from the additives as she read from a battered copy of Anna Karenina. Bugsy had been living with her for just two weeks now, since her impromptu fleeing from the altar, and Emily’s certainly had a good insight into the life of the twenty three year old. 

Yes, it was her birthday next week. No, she didn’t act her age anymore than she had at twenty. 

“Bug, slow down.” Emily urged, a rogue orange marshmallow dribbling down her chin as she plunged the spoon in before she’d even swallowed the last mouthful, “You get sick when you eat too fast,” 

Bugsy waved her off with the utensil, not even ripping her eyes away from the page in front of her, scooping up the marshmallow with the side of her finger and popping it into her mouth. 

Emily rolled her eyes, downing a few sips of her coffee and heading for the stairs, knowing her ride would be here any moment and she still had yet to change her shirt from the one she’d spilled toothpaste down not ten minutes earlier. 

“Niko needs breakfast when you’re done,” The older of the two shouted down to the breakfast table, a streak of tabby grey running under her feet at the sound of food. Bugsy had insisted she bring her new feline friend into Emily’s apartment, and as much as she’d hated the way she nearly tripped over the chubby bastard almost every day they’d been here, she certainly had a fondness for him. 

Bugsy hummed in acknowledgement, though she scraped the edges of her bowl clean by the time the cat in question hopped up onto the counter in search of her leftover milk. 

“This is not for you, you have too much already,” She scolded, shovelling the last few sugary pieces of cereal into her mouth right as the door knocked. 

She dogeared her page, gulping down a quick sip of Emily’s coffee, cringing when she caught it was much too strong for her liking, and heading for the door, her sister yelling to her again. 

“Bug, can you get that- wait- are you wearing pants?” 

She certainly wasn’t, having rolled straight out of bed in a pyjama shirt and underwear, and towards the promise of breakfast, nor as she swung the front door to the apartment open before Emily had a chance to rush down the stairs.

Spencer could have laughed when he saw her, all too reminiscent of the first time he’d met her. The boxers that hugged her legs beneath a large top he was entirely convinced was not hers, though her face lit up in excitement to see him. 

“Good morning!” He thrust a coffee to-go into her hand, still warm even from where it had been jostled around in his car.

“You’re my saviour,” She grinned, sipping on the sweet beverage with bright eyes, “Cute sweater vest-” 

She was quickly manhandled behind the door by two firm hands, Emily’s face enraged as she glared down at her sister where she was now out of sight from the doctor. 

“What did I tell you about wearing pants? Huh? You nearly gave Mrs Jensen a heart attack last week,” Emily hissed, as Bugsy shrugged, remembering the look of horror the old woman across the hall had given her when she’d taken the trash out in a hoodie and booty shorts.

“It’s Spencer,” She poked her head around the door, despite Emily’s shoving, like she was taming a wild animal, “You don’t mind, do you?”

He shook his head, an amused and easy smile on his face as he watched the sisters bicker, not entirely unlike the way he and Emily tended to pick at one another. 

“Not at all; I agree pants are loathable,” And he wasn’t lying. He tried to go for looser fitting trousers or sweat pants, hating the way the tight fabrics restricted his legs, rubbed his skin, making him want to itch and squirm inside his body. 

“Don’t you start,” Emily pointed at him, huffing as she stepped out of the apartment, “You know she gets all worked up and weird on sugar,” 

“Hey, I’m the last person to deny someone a coffee,” He replied, and the two turned to head back to his car, not before he threw the younger woman a look over his shoulder and a wave. 

“Go save the world, kiddos.” She waved back, sipping her coffee indeed with bare legs that would have a nun blushing, “Curfews at nine, Doctor Reid, I expect both of you home for dinner!” She nudged the door closed with her hip before Niko could run out after Emily, and Spencer chuckled to himself, shaking his head. 

“See, told you,” Emily sniggered, rolling her eyes, “Weird,” 

Though that wasn’t quite the word he’d have used. 

–

A killer, so far as they had been able to profile from the four bodies, was targeting women he picked up in night clubs in Atlanta. Most of the team, except Derek, had outgrown the clubbing scene, though Spencer didn’t quite think he’d ever been in it to start with. They all went to O’Keeffe’s usually once a month or so for a quick drink, but it was not big on his list. 

Rossi, Reid and Derek stared at the puddle of blood on the sidewalk, wincing as Emily leaned over the balcony, the five story drop making her tug her lip in between her teeth. 

This woman must have been terrified by something, someone, to see this as a better way out. 

“Maybe she fought back,” Hotch speculated behind her, drawing her attention back to the cleaning equipment scattered over the floor, entirely different to the last three crime scenes where they had been arranged neatly into a triangle, “And when Becky fought back, his routine was compromised, cause he knew the police would respond,”

“Or she could have jumped,” Emily responded gravely, shaking her head at the carpet beneath her boots, “Her nervous system is pumping adrenaline, her fight or flight response kicks in?” Both were equally plausible options, but not ones they had time to entirely pick over. 

“He’s struck two Fridays in a row, and if his routine’s been interrupted, it might compel him to strike again,” Hotch said, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, his brow furrowed deeper than it usually was. 

“It’s Saturday, the clubs will be packed tonight,” Emily replied, her eyes sad, worried. 

“Take a look at the classes the Unsub might have taken, we need to generate a suspect pool as soon as possible,” Her boss ordered, and she nodded heading for the door before she stopped, looking at him with a grimace he didn’t quite understand, “What is it?”

“Bugs-my sister used to work as a shot girl in a club.” She said after a moment of thought, “She could smell a rat from a mile away; said most girls who work in bars get this sixth sense about guys with bad intentions, so they know when to cut them off earlier than most,” 

Emily looked at him for a moment, and he seemed troubled, hesitant as she was to even tease the idea to him, before he sighed, rubbing a hand over his forehead. 

“Call her in.” He said through an outbreath, gritting his teeth the way he did when he was in between a rock and a hard place. 

Rock being another girl murdered by tonight with a huge opportunity to catch the guy in the act missed. Hard place being a twenty-three year old risking her skin for his team for a third time. He hated the paperwork she brought him, hated the look on her face the day Spencer and Derek had dragged her out of that chapel bloodied and shaken even more. 

“But she wears a vest under her clothes, and she stays with Reid and Morgan,” He reasoned, “And just purely scouting; if the Unsub strikes, she gets out there like any other civilian.”

Emily nodded, her hand routing through her pockets for her phone already, “Couldn’t agree more,” She said, hitting the call button with a sigh. She just hoped this time her baby sister wouldn’t be making any drastic calls like throwing herself in the Unsub’s way. Though, Emily knew Spencer wouldn’t let her take another hit for him ever again. Not after the way he’d seemed so distraught the moment she’d been dragged from that room, his eyes all but glistening with tears when he’d seen her on the bed, bloodied and beaten for his sake. 

No, Emily could stake her life on the fact Reid would go down swinging before that ever happened to her again. 

-

“When you think about the nature of serial crimes, it’s amazing there aren’t more predators in clubs,” Spencer said, hoping the pretty girls he’d managed to snag into conversation didn’t hear the way his voice stuttered. This was so far out of his depth, the entire club atmosphere suffocating him worse than any tight pants ever could. The music was too loud, the heavy bass making him wince, the air was too close, too warm, the bodies that kept shoving past him made him want to shower for two hours straight and then wash his hands as well. He’d turned down the drink Derek had offered him, knowing the exact amount of bacteria that swarmed the ice behind the bar, on the rims of the glasses, on the taps- 

Spencer was more than overwhelmed. And talking to beautiful women was not helping his flushed demeanour whatsoever. 

“I mean, excessive amounts of alcohol, countless opportunities for date rape drugs, not to mention suprisingly risky behaviour being pursued,” He counted off, his satchel strapped tightly to his side, “All right, so who wants a flyer?” The three women turned their nose up in awkward smiles, the tallest pushing past him with little more than an outright scoff, the other girl following her like lost dogs, “Nobody? Okay, all right,” He said, his face crestfallen at their reaction, though he wasn’t so unused to it. Girls tended to react that way when he spoke, his entire high school career had been the same. Infact, the only girl other than his co-workers who ever bothered to listen when he spoke was-

“I’ll take one,” A voice came from behind him, the same one he had incidentally been thinking of since they’d left Emily’s apartment, and he could already tell she was smiling before he whipped around to see her slinking through the crowd. 

He was ready to retort something clever, but felt his words congeal in his throat. He had thought, that day when he’d stopped the elevator and seen her in a sodden wedding dress, that he had seen her at her most beautiful. Yes, her makeup had been tracking down her face with her tears, her hair sticking to her cheeks, her expression weepy. But she had reminded him of a star, glistening with the rain, the water shimmering off the snow white fabric, it had taken his breath away then, even when she’d thrown her arms over his shoulders, as if he was the only thing that she could grab on to for safety. 

But that dress was nothing like the one she wore now. 

It was nothing extravagant, and truthfully he’d seen at least ten girls in this club alone that had gone way more lavish than she had bothered to on such short notice. But, Spencer couldn’t help but take her whole image in as she shoved her way in front of him, an easy smile on her face. 

“Beats boxers and pyjama shirts, huh?” She twirled cheekily, warming under his gaze that blinked heavily at her. The dress had been an old thing she’d bought for a frat party, when she’d felt particularly sorry for herself and was going out looking for a bonehead jock to take home. It fit her nicely, complimented the areas she wanted it to, hid the others. A good fail safe option for a last minute night out like this. Covered the kevlar vest Hotch and Emily had wrangled her into.

Not her finest moment, being jumped on by her older sister as her boss forced the bullet jacket over her head; the new girl, Jordan, staring in discomfort as she’d cursed both of them out colourfully for ruining her outfit, but the way Spencer seemed to gulp heavily made her smile wider. 

“You look…” He swallowed again, his fingers digging into the flyers in his hand. Hot. She looked hot. Hot enough that he felt his face flush with the same feeling, he hoped she couldn’t see the way he blushed beneath the club lights, “Beautiful,” He settled on, because ‘hot’ was an entirely Derek word to use. 

“So you keep telling me,” Bugsy preened under his gaze, grinning like she knew something he didn’t. Grabbing one of the flyers from his sweaty palms gently, she took a look at the general sketch, not noticing the way he had yet to tear his eyes off her, “Alright, this the guy?” 

“Yeah, we think he has a mark of some sort- like a birthmark or a scar over his left eyebrow,” He informed, corralling her towards where Morgan stood, his own eyes widening at the girl’s attire. 

They knew she was coming to help scout the scene, they didn’t realise she’d come so ready. Derek immediately felt stupid for doubting her. 

“Woah, did someone call the fire department, because you’re about to set the damn sprinklers off,” He teased, her face lighting up at the man she knew had a way of making her feel a million bucks every time he saw her. 

Emily said he had little sisters of his own, and maybe that was how he knew just what to say. He had many years of experience being the best big brother. 

“Oh, please, you guys spoil me,” She snickered, though her eyes scanned the crowd for a general scope of the club. Safe to say she did not miss the eight pm till four am shifts she used to pull, nor did she miss the drunk bodies swaying around her, the men who would get handsy, the girls who would get scrappy, “So, how’s it going?” 

“Not good, I gave the profile to one woman and she asked if I was the unsub,” Spencer sighed, running a hand through his rogue curls, the humidity of the stuffy bar making them tighten around his ears just that bit more. “How are you doing?” 

“Well, I gave out all my flyers,” Derek said smugly, though Spencer’s eyebrows raised, a smile teasing at his lips. 

“Oh yeah? How many phone numbers did you get?” Bugsy snorted at his words, looking between the men with a smirk. 

“None, I’m working the case here, kids,” Derek tutted, to which Spencer and Bugsy looked at eachother with identical doubt, flicking their gaze back to Morgan. He huffed, “Okay, four were offered, but I didn’t take any of them.” 

Spencer’s jaw dropped, face scrunching in confusion how Morgan was so charismatic with women even when he wasn’t trying. 

“Alright, I’m gonna go grab more flyers from the van. You,” He clapped a hand on Spencer’s shoulder, “Need to relax, man. Remind me to teach you the basics on picking up girls. And you,” Derek pointed to where Bugsy nodded patiently, “Make sure wonder boy doesn’t get eaten alive. And stay together.” 

She nodded again, watching him leave through the crowd; already a woman grabbed on his arm for his attention, where she watched him politely decline with one of those flirty smoulders he’d mastered. 

“I don’t get how he does it. I mean, I get he has the whole body of a God thing going for him,” Spencer sighed, as the two of them went back out into the crowd, scanning for a group of girls who looked particularly sober enough to listen, “But, he just has this way, you know. I’ll don’t think I’ll ever have the way,” 

“Don’t put yourself down like that,” She chastised, nudging him affectionately with her elbow, “You’re very beautiful yourself, you know? You don’t need some stupid way, you just need to be yourself,” 

She said it as if it was nothing, as if it hadn’t just hit him in the chest that she thought he was attractive, though he still remembered that first day they’d met when she assumed he was a stripper. 

His heart swelled in his chest. 

“You really think so?” He asked unsure, waiting for her to laugh in his face and tell him it had just been a tease, she was good at those. But she was never cruel. Never to him. He didn’t know why he’d expected it. 

“Absolutely! I’ve seen like three girls already giving you goo-goo eyes. Believe me, you got the looks,” She simpers, watching his eyes scan the crowd to look for the supposed culprits. 

“So, what, it’s my personality they don't like?” He asked, though he knew that was more than likely the case. He’d always been told he buzzed in people’s ears like a fly, like he was simply background noise the greater population wanted to tune out. 

He knew that would be it. It didn’t stop the small stab of hurt in his stomach however. 

“If someone doesn’t like your personality, that is a them problem, Spencer, not you,” Bugsy was quick to snap, the joking lessening in her eyes as she caught his dejected expression, “Girls like it when you talk about something you enjoy, something you know what you’re talking about. Which should be easy, since you know everything. What do you feel most comfortable talking about?” 

“Statistics,” He said with a nod, to which she looked at him fondly.

“Okay, we have statistics as a backup option. Anything else?” She looked at him, the light bouncing off her eyes in a way that had him pause to think. 

“Magic?” He offered, and she smiled even wider, if that was even possible. 

“Magic! Perfect, girls love feeling magical,” She beamed, nudging him again with her elbow, and the two of them walked over to the bar, “Show me then, Gandalf. What moves would you pull on me if I was a girl?”

He blinked at her, “Are you … not a girl?” He asked, pure bewilderment on his face as he stole a few napkins from the counter. 

She snickered, “Okay, if I wasn’t me. If you didn’t know me,” 

“If I didn’t know you, I’d be way too nervous to even talk to you. And you definitely wouldn’t want to talk to me,” He said as he fiddled with the paper between his obnoxiously long fingers, folding the sheets into miniature shapes. 

She chuckled at him, shaking her head. It had never been like this with them before. Sure, she teased him, like she always had, but he was teasing back. Complimenting her with a seriousness beyond just being nice. 

Something was different in him since the day Cyrus dragged her away. And if that hadn’t done it, then seeing her every morning for two weeks had changed the boyish anxiety that had lingered even then. 

“Stop stalling and show me these tricks of yours,” She bit playfully, though the grin she gave him was genuine as she saw something mischievous flash in his eyes. 

“Patience is virtue, patience is virtue-” He murmured, fiddling with the short, plastic straws they kept at the bar, “Now for this to work, I’m going to need a beautiful assistant. Do you think you could find one for me-” 

She smacked his arm, and he snickered. She shook her head, fighting her own laugh overcoming her. 

Maybe she was right. Talking about something he loved made him feel entirely at ease, like he controlled every angle their conversation took, and the air between them had taken this odd electric turn he wasn’t expecting like someone had pumped a thousand volts under his skin.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” He replied, holding out one of the straws, about as plain and simple as it would be if it were in a drink, “But I will need some magic words,”

“Ofcourse,” She drawled, her cheeks hurting from how tight she was smiling, “What are they?”

“Magic words are, ‘I’ll be there’” He instructed, fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves as he watched her frown, and he pointed the straw at her mouth like a microphone, “You got it?” 

“Yep,” She responded, even though the confusion read clear as day on her face. He tapped the straw on her nose and cleared his throat. 

“3, 2, 1,” He tapped it to her temple, then to each of her shoulders, “Go on a date with me?” 

“I’ll be there,” She responded, and in a strobe of light the single instrument became a trio of origami roses, stuffed into the straws as stems. 

Her brain caught up to her as he gently placed them in her hand, her eyes gazing at him like he had just presented her with a 24 carat diamond, though in reality it was nothing more than a silly trick with napkins and plastic. 

“Spencer,” She said earnestly, and he could have sworn her voice quivered for a split second, before she shook her head at him, punching him on the hip gently, “You are the most humble man I’ve ever met. You do that to any other girl and you’re getting laid, I’m telling you,” 

He rubbed his chin bashfully, both of them catching the way the waitress behind the bar watched him with large, blue eyes Bugsy could have bathed in. She was gorgeous, and she stared at Spencer as if she’d been the one given roses. 

Attracted. Interested. 

“Talk to her,” Bugsy whisper-yelled, nodding over to the barmaid who busied herself with another order, though they both saw the way her flicking glances to the two of them as she scooped ice, “She would have seen if a guy like that frequented somewhere like here, talk to her,”

“What- no-” He protested, but his eyes widening as Bugsy leaned over the bar to flag the woman down with that playful charisma of hers, not missing the way a few heads turned as the dress tightened around her ass as she bent forward. 

He felt his chest flash with anger, glaring at the men, hoping it was enough to ward them off. Her hand enclosed around his wrist, drawing his attention back to the bartender who watched him with a sweet face. He had to admit she was attractive. 

“This is my very best friend, Spencer,” Bugsy told the woman, who smiled at him, and the Prentiss girl lifted his hand up to wave at her like he was a ragdoll, “Spencer, wanted to show you something, didn’t you, Spence?” 

Raising her eyebrows at him, nodding to the flyers in his hand. 

“I’m gonna go dance,” She fibbed, knowing she was going to go scout out the crowd to see if any guys fit the profile, nudging him a little harder than before, “Remember what we talked about. I’ll be by the DJ,” 

Grinning encouragingly, he watched her swoop into the crowd like it was second nature, not missing the collection of guys who watched her every move; she captured the room when she moved, when she smiled, when she politely excused herself past a group of girls that tried to pull her into their circle with friendly cheers. 

He did another one of his tricks for Austin, he’d come to learn was the name of the girl behind the bar, but it hadn’t felt the same, not even when she gave him her number unprompted, even as she flirted, smiled prettily, batted those sea blue eyes at him. It wasn’t the same. 

He worried for a moment that the electricity he’d felt was reserved only for Bugsy, but he squashed it down faster than he could confront the idea. 

2. The one where he nearly dies

“I don’t know how to do this,” JJ confessed, her bluebell eyes filled with tears as she stared out of her boss’ office and into the bullpen full of officers, scientists and even the damn military tearing through pages and pages of resources for answers. 

Anthrax. A weapon of mass destruction they’d already had a small dose of, was on the move through the BAU’s own city. And they each had strict instructions to not alert their loved ones. 

“I can’t stop thinking about Henry,” She whimpered through a strong facade as she turned to Hotch, and she saw the same guilt eating him up in those dark eyes of his that rarely let anything slip. 

He had Jack. He had Haley, even with the divorce papers signed so long ago. He had people at risk too. And yet she couldn’t stop seeing her precious little boy’s face as he lay back in his pushchair and enjoyed the sights of the park, the same park that had just been targeted with an airborne disease-

“He goes for a walk almost every single day at Potomac Park,” She sniffed, the nausea chewing away at her brain as she recounted the lesions on that poor teenage girls skin, that's going to be Henry, that’s going to be Will, “What type of mother am I if I don’t atleast call and tell them to stay home?” 

“JJ, we can’t,” Hotch said, though he felt his own dam start to tear down as he tried not to think of what could possibly happen to his own sweet son. 

“I know, but-” Her throat bobbed, “It-it’s not just me- Emily’s worried about Bugsy. She told me she cuts through the park on the way to her lectures- she has one every day this week- Hotch-”

It was true. She had caught Emily in her own turmoil as the woman sped off to grab a drink seconds after chugging down the dose of Cipro they’d all been given that morning. She’d caught her filling a glass of water until the liquid started leaking down the sides and went over her shaking fingers, and even then she’d had to tug her friend out of whatever rabbit hole the words ‘Media Blackout’ had sent her down. 

“I understand you both have people you want to protect,” Hotch was the voice of reason, as he always was, and it stung her to see his face so cold since she knew he was drowning his own sorrows behind it, “But if we all called home and used this information to give us an advantage other people don’t have, is that the right thing to do?” 

She bit her lip, knowing he was right. She just prayed on everything she had Will would stay home with Henry today, Haley would have a movie night with Jack, and for whatever she had seen in Emily’s eyes earlier, a pure, unadulterated self-loathing, that Bugsy at least took the day off teaching.

JJ prayed, and prayed, and prayed. 

–

She shuffled her notes together as she marked papers at her desk. They let her take the office to herself since she’d been at the University for five months now, gave her free reign of her lectures without having a supervisor like they had the first eight weeks or so. Bugsy enjoyed, surprising as it was to her, the feeling of somewhere that wasn’t the laboratory. Emily and Spencer had forced her to apply for jobs when they caught her binge watching real housewives for the sixth time back to back, of course lacking any bottoms. 

Emily didn’t know why she thought twenty-four year old Bugsy would be any different. They had thought at least that Derek holding her hair back on the night of her birthday party as she threw up copious amounts of jello shots on the sidewalk would be an eye opening moment, but it hadn’t deterred her in the slightest. She had just chucked a handful of gum in her mouth, patted the man on the back and asked Emily to hit up the drive thru on their way home. 

It wasn’t until she got the job did she feel a little bit more responsible, like what she was doing actually affected the people around her. Teaching first year college students was so very different than she’d expected, she was the authority figure. 

She could hear her mother laughing at her now. 

She almost smudged the little smiley face she’d drawn beside one of her student’s B+ as the phone rang on her desk, because she had an office phone believe it or not, and she cleared her throat, trying to sound as grown up as possible whilst also trying not to grin how excited she was to use her new landline. 

“Miss Prentiss speaking, who’s calling?” She said, almost not recognising herself as she squeezed her gel pen in delight. She had this grown up thing down to a tea.

“Hi, Bug.” Spencer’s voice sounded out of breath, and she heard his converse slapping against a linoleum floor fast, as if he was pacing, “I got a quick hypothetical to run through with you,” 

“Y-yeah, sure- Where are you?” She asked, her brows furrowing when he gave a wheezy cough, “Spence?”

“I’m not allowed to tell you, but I’m fine- for now,” He winced as he said the last part, as if it had slipped unintentionally, as if he knew what was coming next. He could practically hear her brain ticking over, “So, when you’re in the lab-”

“What do you mean for now?” She cut him off, standing up from her desk, already collecting her pencils back into their little pink case, “Where’s Emily? Is she okay? Is anyone hurt?”

“Everyone’s fine; as I was saying, hypothetically, when you’re in the lab where would you-” He talked over her right back, his slender fingers flicking through the piles of work, hoping he stumbled on a formula, a sticky note, a damn cheat sheet, anything. 

“Don’t avoid my question, Spencer,” She snapped, and she could already feel the worry lines on her forehead. 

He sighed, hoping she couldn’t hear the way his chest rattled and he choked down a cough. It would only make her worry more. 

“I promise I will tell you what’s going on if you just answer my question,” Spencer rushed, feeling his face growing sweaty, opening the entire cabinet of drawers. “Okay?”

She nodded, biting her nail, as she sat back down. “Okay fine, shoot,”

“Where would you put your valuable items if you didn’t trust your lab partner while the two of you were working together?” He asked, wiping his brow with his sleeve as he held the phone tight to his ear with his shoulder. 

She paused for a moment, “Well it’s standard practice that all jewellery comes off before we get scrubbed, so as not to contaminate anything. I usually put my scrunchie through my rings and tied it back into my hair so they wouldn’t get stolen. I knew some guys who put their watches around their ankles. Basically anywhere we could feel it on us,” 

He cleared his throat again, and she heard him take a few steps, “How’s grading papers going? Did you get a fax machine yet?” 

He was trying to change the subject, trying to take her mind off whatever it was he was doing that required such an urgent and peculiar question. 

“It’s going good, I miss you bringing me coffee; it was like I had a maid who helped me with my crosswords,” She said, biting her bottom lip squeezing her thumb in the middle of her fist to slow the nerves. He tried to pretend he wasn’t smiling hearing that. “Now tell me what’s wrong. Did you go running without your inhaler again? I told you to leave a spare at ours so I could rescue you if you ever-” 

“Bugsy, you’re a genius!” He cried, ignoring the way it made his throat burn, “Remind me to tell you every single day how smart you are- I have to go,” 

“Spence- Spencer-” She tried to cut in, but he had already put the phone down. 

So much for not worrying her, she thought, as she got on the phone to Emily within seconds. 

-

Bugsy all but burst through the hospital doors, apologising when she nearly knocked a stack of files from a nurse's hands, wishing she had an inhaler herself after she had ran all the way from the car park, including the three flights of stairs. 

After calling in sick the rest of the day, and practically volleying her rucksack into the passenger's seat of her car, she had blindly called Emily four more times until the woman answered with a frightened lilt to her voice. 

Spencer was headed to the hospital. Spencer was headed there on full blues with lungs full of an even deadlier strain of Anthrax. Last Emily had heard he was getting worse. Bugsy put her foot down on the pedal even harder. 

She knew the speeding ticket would come any day, and didn't even want to think about the state of her parking. All she cared about the second the lady at the desk had said what room he was in was seeing he was okay, that he wasn’t growing lesions or choking on his own blood or having half of his brain boiled alive. 

Bugsy felt a small spike of panic, if it could even get worse, as she yanked the curtain back to see him asleep, a cannula tucked into his nose, a hospital gown tied over his shoulders. 

Diving for his file that was attached to the end of his bed, she looked through his information to check what meds he’d been given. He once told her he was allergic to narcotics, said he had been since birth, and while she trusted one of the team to have passed the information on, she had to see it for herself that he was stable. 

No narcotics given. Only paracetamol for his fever that was rapidly coming down. She could breathe again. 

She jumped out of her skin when the curtain rail was pulled back a second time, and Derek seemed to startle for a moment too before a tired smile met his handsome face. 

“Where have you been, Baby Prentiss?” His breath knocked out of him when she threw herself at him, a sigh of relief coming from her bitten lips. 

“Oh, thank god you’re okay,” She murmured, and his chuckle echoed through his chest into her ear, “You all worried me half to death,”

“You’re looking very grown up,” He teased as he patted her on the back. And she was. She had taken to wearing maxi skirts and tights, even throwing on a cute blazer for affect, she was the teacher after all. She shoved him away with a smack to the chest. He laughed, holding up the opened pot of jell-o to her face, “Jell-o?”

She gagged, filled with memories of her birthday. 

He shook his head with a smile as she sat down in the seat next to the bed and he spooned the first mouthful of the fruity dessert into his mouth. 

“Is everyone else alright?” She asked, wringing her hands together. She fought back the urge to tuck Spencer’s curls behind his ear, knowing he was sleeping peacefully.

“Stop worrying. Team’s fine; we caught the guy and confiscated his supply. Even saved the last few survivors with you telling Reid where to look,” Morgan watched her jaw feather, and she picked under her nails. 

“I keep telling you guys, I didn’t do anything. I just… spoke to him. He’s the genius, not me,” She said solemnly, staring into her lap with a frown. 

“Not to him. Whole journey back, before the aphasia kicked in, he kept telling paramedics to tell Doctor Kimura it was you who’d figured it out.” Derek said, but it seemed to make her sulk more. 

She said nothing, pulling out her book from her bag to continue reading as she waited for him to wake up, and Derek took it as a sign she was in no mood to talk, god forbid even take a compliment, and opened the magazine he’d grabbed from the cafeteria. 

–

Half an hour and another pot of pudding for Morgan later (she gagged again at the sweet strawberry smell of it), the pair of them sat in silence, reading their own materials when a very sleepy, doe eyed man looked up and frowned.

“Are you eating Jell-O?” Spencer asked, barely noticing the girl on the other side of the bed, who shot up out of her seat as he came around. 

“Hey doc. You have a visitor,” Morgan said with a small smile, Spencer’s face falling into a frown. He looked to the other side of him, just in time to see a worn copy of Middlemarch being flung to the floor and a hand grabbing his clammy ones tightly. 

“Spencer I’m- I’m so mad at you-” She gasped, every soppy feeling of sadness she’d been stewing in leaving her body when she saw his hazel eyes fall to her, “You put the phone down on me and next thing I know you’re in the back of an ambulance nearly flatlining- I’m so-” 

She breathed when she saw his eyes soften. He didn’t think she knew it but he saw the way her eyes glistened, her voice trembled underneath her anger. He felt the way she had yet to let go of his hand, how nice and warm it felt in his palm. 

“I’m sor-” He hadn’t even finished his apology when she had latched onto him, trying not to hug him too tight but hard enough she could tell herself he was still here. He was okay. 

And he could understand. He’d felt the same when they’d found her in that church, when Cyrus had hauled her away after she’d practically offered herself up in exchange for him. He’d known she was braver than she gave herself credit for, but that had stopped his heart right there and then. He had grabbed her in a hug the first chance he’d got even then, even when he barely knew her, when she was Emily’s sister and not Bugsy. Not the woman he’d spent every morning with for weeks bringing her a coffee just the way she enjoyed it, the woman he’d sat with on Emily’s couch with her legs across his lap as they did the puzzles in the morning paper together. She tried to do them, and he would finish them when she got too annoyed by the ones she couldn’t answer. 

“I’m sorry,” He said, his arms gently hugging her back and he felt something wet on his shoulder blade before he knew what it was. He felt even worse for worrying her, squeezing her tighter than was even comfortable for him. 

“Don’t do that to me again,” She said through tears as she settled in his arms. 

He really hoped she couldn’t hear the way his heart pounded. 

3. The one at Haley’s funeral

She had no idea what to say. Emily had always been the one who knew how to talk to people. She had this horrible habit of saying the first thing that came to her head, probably because a lot of the time it was the most real, and people liked real. 

But now wasn’t the time for what was best for her. Haley Hotchner had been murdered. 

She hadn’t spoken to Hotch yet, she’d only met the man a handful of times. But he’d invited her anyway, for the team. For Emily, maybe even Spencer; Emily said he liked when she was around. She couldn’t imagine any other reason she would be there. 

Other than, ofcourse, to be Spencer’s crutch. Literally. Since his real one had broken and he was still limping around with one knee weakened by the bullet wound in it. 

She’d nearly had a heart attack when he’d called from the hospital, again, though this time he’d waited until he’d gotten the all clear to tell her so she didn’t panic quite as much as last time. She’d cursed him out for being so reckless, and requested another week's sick pay to take care of him until he was able to actually walk. It was only a one year contract with the university anyway, she didn’t care if she missed a few days to make sure he was okay. 

“You look very handsome today,” She whispered to him as she hauled him out of the car, minding that he didn't hit his head on the ceiling. He gave her a small smile and tucked her own hair behind her ear seeing it come loose from its braid when she’d leaned down to grab him. 

“Just today?” He asked, and she finally smiled back. She’d been stuck in a bubble in the car; her and Emily both had. They had the same thinking face, he’d realised. 

“Just especially today,” She answered honestly, and he worked on adjusting his black jacket so she could hold onto him comfortably. She was quieter than usual. Feeble, almost. 

“Thankyou, you do too,” He replied, his face scrunching after a moment, “Look pretty I mean,” 

He leaned on her arm, looped it around hers as he tried to be the least amount of imposing as possible. That went about as well as you’d expect for a six foot one bag of bones. 

She gave up after just a few steps, moving his arm to wrap around her shoulder as she walked with him. To anyone else they would easily pass as a couple, especially as she squeezed him tightly to her when the men laid down Hayley’s coffin, and the service began. 

“W.S Gilbert wrote ‘It’s love that makes the world go around’ and if that’s true, then the world spun a little faster with Hayley in it.” Aaron began, his voice strong as his large hands gripped the eulogy like it would give him any comfort. She smiled softly, her eyes glued to the man who stood unmoving for his son, “Haley was my best friend since we were in high school. We certainly had our struggles but if there’s one thing we agreed on unconditionally, it was our love and our commitment to our son, Jack,” 

Bugsy smiled sadly when Jack looked to the floor bashfully. Glancing between the photo on top of the coffin, a beautiful blonde woman grinning back at her with brilliantly happy eyes and a soft face, she saw where he got most of his looks from. 

“Haley’s love for Jack was joyous, and fierce. That fierceness is why she isn’t here today. A mother’s love is an unrivalled force of nature, and we can all learn much from the way Haley lived her life. Haley’s death causes each of us to stop and take stock of our lives. To measure who we are and who we’ve become.” She felt Spencer’s head knock into hers, felt the sniff run through him, and she searched her pocket for a tissue, “I don’t have all those answers for myself, but I know who Haley was. She was the woman who died protecting the child we brought into this world together; and I will make sure Jack grows up knowing who his mother was. And how she loved and protected him. And how much I loved her.” 

If Haley were here today she would tell us not to mourn her death. She would tell us-” Aaron cut himself off with a watery voice, his resolve finally melting as he realised this would be some of his final words to his wife. Bugsy felt her bottom lip quiver in remorse, “She would tell us to love our families unconditionally. And to hold them close because in the end they are all that matter.” 

Spencer felt her tug him closer as she hid the lone few tears from the rest of the mourners and wished more than ever he could press a small kiss to her brow.

–

No, Bugsy was not good with knowing what to say and when. Wasn’t good at cheering people up no matter how much Spencer told her she always made him feel better. Didn’t really know much about how to make someone understand that she cared other than showing them with her whole body. 

So by the time it was her turn to offer condolences, she didn’t bother shaking his hand. That meant nothing to her. That was a business deal, that was an agreement, a formal way to pretend you cared. But she did, she felt terrible for Hotch, wanted to fix him and his sweet son until Haley was right back there to thank her. 

She didn’t shake his hand like everyone else had. He held his hand out for one, his eyes soft and warm, like he could see she was struggling. She brushed past his hand and just pulled him in for a hug, and he wondered if she was always going to greet him that way. 

“I guessed that sorry wouldn’t make anything better so I brought you the biggest bottle of wine the store had,” She murmured into his chest, and she was gobsmacked to hear him chuckle weakly. She felt his hands pat her on the back gently, and he appreciated her candour. “I’ve got some Xanax if you’d really like a treat,” 

She was a breath of fresh air. Aaron truthfully had been sick of people saying they were so sorry for his loss, and he felt like shaking them and yelling, screaming that they hadn’t been the one to kill Haley, Foyet had. 

He pushed all of it down, focusing on the way she’d tucked herself to him like she had the day she’d become a runaway bride dripping rainwater over his bureau floor. 

“She would have really liked you,” Aaron confessed, and they finally parted, and she saw he was smiling like he meant it, not just saying it to make her feel more comfortable being here. “You would have made her laugh,”

He saw the easy expression on her face fade, and she turned to look at her heels, nodding quietly. 

“I would have been lucky to have known her,” She said, handing him the gift bag with a very heavy present inside. “I only wish someone would ever love me the way you love her,’ 

And with that she bid him a smile, and returned to her seat in between Emily and JJ, the pair of them mother henning her all day.

Aaron wished he could have said more to her after that, but before he knew it, someone else was offering him their condolences, and the sadness in her voice was forgotten.

–

The team sat around the table, nursing their beers, or in Spencer and Bugsy’s case a tea. Spencer didn’t want to affect his healing process with alcohol, not that he’d ever been big on the stuff, and Bug said she struggled driving even without the help of a beer, so they chatted between sips from two very fancy china cups. 

Emily and JJ sat to the other side of her talking about how beautiful the flower arrangements were when a small, fawn haired body came wandering over to where Will held a one year old Henry on his knee. 

“Would he like to play?” Jack asked shyly, trying to peer up onto the adults table to see if there were any other kids his age that would like to do something with him. His dad had been busy talking to all those people, and auntie Jessica had been trying to make it round to every table to thank people for being here. He didn’t entirely understand what was happening, in all honesty.

“He’s still a little too small yet honey. In a year or so, you guys can be best friends,” JJ said sweetly as he pulled his chin up to the tabletop and spied the younger woman sitting next to uncle Spencer.

He tottered over to her, where she sat unaware she had a shadow until Spencer's face softened as he looked behind her, and she swivelled around in her seat. 

“Hello,” Jack said quietly, looking up at where she seemed to buffer, feeling eight pairs of eyes on her as she interacted with the small boy.

She had never been good with children, had never been around them since she was their age, even the kids she taught now were all at least eighteen. 

The mantra to absolutely not fuck up the next few moments reverberated around her head. 

She gave him a soft smile, holding out a hand for him to shake, “Hi, Jack. I’m Emily’s sister. You can call me Bugsy,”

His tiny nose scrunched as he watched her, shaking her hand the way dad had shown him how. 

“Bugsy? That’s a weird name,” He said, and she chuckled, “Like the bunny?”

She shrugged, “I guess like the bunny, yeah,” although she had never thought of that before. 

“Would you like to play with me?” Jack asked, and she felt her chest warm unnaturally. He had such a sweet face. It was just like the woman in the picture.

Smiling at him crookedly, she rooted around her bag for the notebook and pens she kept for her to-do lists. Maybe Spencer was rubbing off on her. 

“We could do some drawing if you want?” She offered, showing him the pad with kind eyes. That seemed to satiate him as he grabbed her knee and started pulling himself up to sit in her lap, and she paused. 

Kids were so funny, she realised, she would never just start grabbing someone she just met and asking to climb on their lap. 

She got him comfortable on her knee, not noticing the flashing glances Spencer gave her between his conversation with Kevin, Garcia’s beau, as Jack started drawing a bunny with a human face, that was supposedly meant to be her. 

Spencer watched her giggle as he gave the rabbit a pretty dress, like the one she was wearing, and Spencer had to admit it was a pretty dress she’d gone for today. Had he not been so mournful earlier he thinks he would have blushed how tight she’d held him. 

She showed him how to play noughts and crosses, and she let him win most of them, laughing when he asked to tear out the page from her notebook to show his dad later. 

That is, until the man himself came over to the table of his work colleagues, only to see the group watching their youngest playing with his sweet son. 

“Bugsy,” Hotch said, and her head shot up to him, a guilty look passing over her face, worried she’d overstepped, though the fact he hadn’t said her real name said otherwise, “Can I talk to you for a moment outside, please?”

She blinked, straightening in her seat “O-ofcourse!” Shuffling Jack off her lap as fast as she could without hurting him, smoothing out her dress down as she followed him to the small balcony the funeral home had. It was a classy manor, but she guessed Hotch would have only had the best for Haley. 

“I’m sorry if I overstepped, Jack asked to sit on my lap- and- I’m not good with kids anyway I just didn’t want to tell him no, especially not today-” He put his hand on her shoulder to shut her up, a small smile spreading on his face. It was fatherly and calming, something her own father had been much too busy to ever bother with.  

“Not at all, that’s not why I called you out here,” He reassured, squeezing her gently as he leaned against the railing, taking a deep breath of the midnight air, and he felt his professional mask begin to slip. “I’ve been thinking… about how much help you've been to us over the years. Reid would be dead if it wasn’t for you.” She opened her mouth to protest, and he flashed her a look that said he was serious. “Let me finish,”

She wrung her hands guiltily, “Sorry,” 

“You’re very resilient far beyond your years, you’re incredibly charismatic when you need to be, and you’re by far one of the smartest people your age,” He said, watching her face to see how she felt. He knew she didn’t take compliments well, for some other reason they could dig into any other day. But he needed to say it now, needed her to know now for what he was about to ask her. 

“Whether that is true or not, why are you telling me this?” She asked politely, without the usual bite that went with it when they tried calling her something she wasn’t. 

“I need to take some time off to spend with Jack, try and help him…” He trailed off, unsure as to what he wanted to say. “Help him understand Haley’s not coming home,”

She nodded with a glistening lash line, and grabbed onto his arm gently.

“My team looks to me to be their glue, but I know I can’t keep everyone together and look after my son. Emily said your contract at the University was ending,” He cleared his throat, looking at her again with something vulnerable in his sable black eyes, “So I was wondering if you would reconsider the FBI academy? It’s only twenty weeks, but Rossi and I can put you forward to do the written exams earlier if you’d like, and then Strauss can have you assigned a trainee position at the BAU-” 

“Anything,” She nodded, “Anything you need, I’ll do it,” and he hugged her for once. Maybe it was the way she had said it so willingly, no matter her own reservations about joining the academy, no matter her stubbornness and resistance to her sisters pestering, or even the fact they all talked weekly about how much easier their job would be if she was there. Her and Reid’s brains together were a force to be reckoned with. 

And he knew, the surprisingly kind girl that clutched at him back, would keep his team together, would be the glue to keep their heads on while he took some time to watch his son. 

“Thankyou,” He murmured into her hair, and she forced herself not to get weepy at the grief in his voice. Of all people here, she was the last person who should be allowed to cry. Least of all to him. 

He pulled away from her eventually, cursing himself for letting the front slip, but it was as if she had that effect on everyone on the team, like she had this little way of worming her way between that gap in their chests where their hearts once were before they’d seen the things they had, dealt with the people they had. 

It was for that reason Aaron knew they would be just fine. 

“You know, when I was a kid, mom got letters every day from people with their own agendas against her,” Bugsy said once they’d taken a gulp of cool night air, “They all said the same thing; that they were going to take me for ransom unless she left the country. She didn’t think much of it until a guy started following the car home from school and she decided to get me trained in self defence,” 

Hotch frowned, his chest tightening. He knew how it felt to be a parent on edge for his kid’s safety, but to hear it from the other side cut deeper. 

“Which was fine, I got a pretty mean shot if I say so myself, but eventually it progressed into hostage training, in case…” She swallowed dryly, clearing her throat and picking her nails, “I wet the bed the first time they grabbed me, the whole idea was that I wouldn’t know it was coming. They let me go pretty fast, I don’t think they’d expected the eleven year old to reach for the kitchen knife,” 

Hotch scoffed, shaking his head in horror, though he didn’t doubt her for a second. 

“I slept with it next to my bed for a year, so that next time they came for me, they would think twice and let me sleep in,” She said with a thoughtful smile.

“And did it work?” He asked, watching her run her hands along the stone wall beneath his  elbow. 

“I dunno, but the one guy left pretty quick when I almost took his eye out,” She giggled, and the sound made him laugh quietly as well, “My point is, you’ve got nothing to worry about with Jack. Kids like us, we get made tougher, resilient. And with parents like you two, I’d say he had a pretty good head start.” Bugs said, smiling to herself flicking a glance up to his face that said just how touched he was. Deciding he was likely waiting for her to turn around before he let himself cry, she took a step back, heading towards the reception. “I mean look at me, I turned out alright!” 

She barely heard his small chuckle that faded into a weep before she shut the door behind her, heading back over to the table where the team sat, Jack now with his auntie Jessica, and their eyes fell on her, waiting to hear whatever it was she had to say. 

Taking a deep breath, she gave them an awkward smile, “Guess I’m joining the academy afterall,” 

And that was all she got out before Garcia dived on her with an excited cuddle. 

4. The one with his new hair

He knew he was sweeping his fingers through his hair much more often than usual, his hazel eyes flickering to his reflection in car doors in a way that was almost obsessive. He liked what his barber had done, but that wasn’t the point. 

He was hoping she liked it. 

Bugsy had passed the academy with flying colours, not that anyone had ever doubted her, and had been part of the team for all of two weeks, though he would argue she was BAU way before that. Hotch had figured out a staggered schedule where he could take care of Jack four days a week and work the rest until Jack settled back in at school. 

It had been nearly five months since Haley had died, but it hadn’t gotten any easier for the boy. 

Spencer definitely, definitely hadn’t spent the last two weeks practically breathing down her neck whenever they went out into the field, nor had he definitely not found himself fighting off the grin that threatened his composure when he caught her scribbling notes down to herself whilst Penelope presented the cases. 

And he most definitely hadn’t gone out to get a new hair cut in the hopes she would find him more attractive. 

Definitely not.

And yet, her face was the first one he found himself looking at as he stepped into the office, watching as it trailed up from her notebook, her pink gel pen paused mid sentence as the rest of the team went silent, her face spitting into a grin the minute she saw him. 

“What, did you join a boyband?” Hotch asked in a rare moment of teasing, Derek snickering as Emily nudged his arm with her own chuckle. 

“Can I be your groupie?” Bugsy asked, which made them laugh harder, though she stared at him with a small twinkle in her eye the way she always did when he squirmed under her compliments. 

He hadn’t thought she was being mean, not even when they took a moment to settle down, not even when she smiled wryly at him, her eyes flicking up to his hair twice more before her attention was stolen back by Garcia switching the board. 

“Okay, so what are we looking at here? Late twenties, early thirties?” Emily asked after they quietened, adjusting her bangs over her brows. 

“All single, though two are in committed relationships,” Rossi added, flicking through his own pack of notes. “All living on their own,” 

“Looks like normal suburban houses. Give the Unsub privacy,” Morgan added, his face scrunched in disgust as he looked at the crime scene photos. 

“The differences are more striking than the similarities. Different hair colours, different body shapes.” Reid noted, Bugsy’s handwriting scrawling over her notebook as she tried to capture everything they were saying. 

“What do we know about his MO?” Hotch asked JJ, the blonde woman shaking her head with a grimace. 

“That’s why we were invited in, the abduction sites are pristine,” She said gravely, looking between her team as they seemed to balk at the information. 

“No DNA besides the victims, and there’s no sign of forced entry or struggle,” Bugsy noted in the pack Garcia had given her that morning, along with a little pat to the head for good luck. Before now, in those two weeks, they had only dealt with one kidnapping and one group homicide that had turned out to be one very stupid teen spiking drinks at a pool party. This case would be the worst one she’d seen yet. 

“And the victims aren’t reported until two or three days after they’re abducted,” Emily tailed off the end of her sister, her eyes serious as the team came to the same conclusion. 

He had days to spend as much time with the bodies as he wanted. 

“Two or three days? Women like this don’t just disappear without somebody noticing,” Rossi chimed in again, as JJ clicked onto the next screen handing the remote to Garcia. 

“Yes, which is why I had Garcia dig into their lives a little,” She said, taking a seat next to Hotch to let penelope lead. 

“And I took a look at their online activity, I could easily see what the Unsub was doing,” Penelope said, clicking onto a screen full of the women’s profiles. 

Bugsy couldn’t even say she was shocked. Ever since she was in highschool, friendships, or her lack thereof, had been entirely decided on who had the most likes on their status update. Apparently no one found the girl who read Russian Literature for fun cool, nor did they want anything to do with her. Emily didn’t know she’d sat in the school toilets to eat her lunch for three years straight. Turns out kids from every country were bitches. 

“Social Media profiles?” Her older sister asked, though the surprise was evident on her face atleast. 

“Yeah, facebook, twitter, you name an online life-sharing time suck, these victims were on it,” Penelope said, enlarging the screen for the team to see the specifics, “And if you look at each of their last posts, they say kind of the same thing, ‘Going out of town, Going on a business trip, Going on vacation,’ but when you look at the time and date stamps on each of these, queue the twilight zone music because they were all posted the morning after each of them went missing,”

“The unsub posted them?” Hotch concluded, his natural frown deepening. This Unsub had a way to keep all of his victims hidden for much longer than they’d anticipated. Who knows what he could be doing as they spoke. 

“You know, social networks are an easy way for an unsub to target his victims. These women were especially open, they posted everything from what they had for dinner to where they were going on dates,” Spencer said, looking at the print outs Pen had handed to them. 

“The unsub ‘Friends’ his victim, and then uses it as a cover once he takes them,” Derek said, as Bugsy’s face scrunched in disagreement. 

“What are you thinking, Kiddo?” Rossi asked from her left, as he head shot up to see the team watching her, waiting for her input. 

Surprising to everyone, she was somewhat nervous when she’d started at the BAU. The Bugsy Prentiss, the woman who had caught out parts of the Russian Mob when she was just a college student, was nervous to not mess up in front of them. 

“I understand what Derek’s saying, but nowadays you don’t actually have to be friends with someone to follow them.” She said, picking her fingertips in thought, “A lot of people have hundreds of total strangers they’ve never met on their page; some settings mean you don’t even need to be ‘friends’ in the first place to see what they're posting. The UnSub probably wouldn’t even bother implicating himself in the first place by following them, he could just access their profile and see what they're up to. I think he profiles as patient and organised, and somewhat tech savvy if he’s up to date on the way these medias work,” 

The team watched her carefully, Spencer beating down the proud smile he wanted to flash her, knowing he needed to be focused on this case, but she seemed satisfied with her answer when Penelope nodded in agreement.

“So you don’t think he’s an old guy like me, is what you’re saying?” Derek asked with aghast, knowing full well mid thirties wasn’t too old. Hadn’t stopped his pride hurting. 

She shook her head, “I just think he wouldn’t be as old as you. Mine and Reid’s age maybe. But he seems obsessive, and he also must have a job that affords him the spare time to spend the following few days with the bodies, but it means we should also assume that these women are likely already dead,”

She looked to Hotch hopefully, to see him staring at her unreadably for a moment, before he looked to Rossi with a nod. 

David slapped her on the shoulder affectionately, “You just put together your first profile, kid,” 

And before long, they were heading for the jet with her deductions in mind to hand over to the cops. 

–

“Can someone explain to me the appeal of these sites? ‘Eating sushi tonight, yum!’ ‘Boss is keeping me late at work, grr,’” Rossi stared at the status updates, perplexed, as the team snickered to themselves. 

“Now, wait a minute. How did you find my profile?” Bugsy asked jokingly, and she drew a fond smile from Aaron her way when Rossi chuckled to himself. 

He wished she would stop looking so nervous to contribute. She fit right in with the furniture. 

“Whose life is so important that we’d be interested in this kind of detail?” Rossi asked seriously, though Bugsy supposed even the coffee machine was a new useless piece of technology to the man who liked his espresso fresh. 

“That’s just it, no one is. I guess everyone just wanted to believe it to themselves that they all have an audience out there waiting to hear every update of their day. Some of them even have GPS tracking systems in place to make it even easier for people to find out exactly where you are,” Bugsy said, her eyes flicking to Spencer who watched her intently, automatically floating up to take in his new hair again. 

She couldn’t help think he had stopped looking cute, and started looking hot. He’d always been cute, god knows she’d always thought he was good looking. But now he looked… dreamy. It had made her double take the minute he’d walked through the door, hoping it wasn’t too obvious she was staring. 

“That explains how he’s finding them, but it doesn’t tell us how he’s getting into their houses,” Hotch nodded along with her, eying her carefully as she looked through her own notes she’d made once she’d brought herself round to ripping her eyes off Reid. 

“At the very least I believe he has copies of their keys,” Spencer said, his finger trailing the information in his file, “Doris Archer had a home security system installed, but the disable code was entered at 1:56am, so he knew that too. He also found a way to deal with her dog, a German Shepard she adopted from the pound last year, it went missing the night she did,” 

“Did they find the dog?” Bugsy asked, her face in a frown as Emily looked up to her.

“Why? What are you thinking?” She asked her little sister who played with the ‘TRAINEE’ lanyard around her neck. 

“If he hurt the dog, it likely meant the dog had been on alert to him as an intruder, since opportunistic violence isn’t in his profile of being collected and organised. So if he didn’t hurt the dog, and he was found alive and unharmed, it means the dog knew him,” Bugsy explained, and Derek stroked his face in thought. 

“This guy’s gotta be in and out of the house well before the night of the disappearance. He comes up with some ruse, talks his way inside, and then once he’s familiar enough with the house he knows he can come back and kidnap them without disturbing anything,” He said, the girl nodding in agreement with him.

“Think of people you let into your home you don’t consider a threat. Home repair guys, dog walkers?” Rossi offered, but JJ was quick to flick to her own pack. 

“Detective Fordham looked into that too. No one came even close to being a killer,” She shut down, not wanting to waste their time running through avenues that had already been explored. 

“Alright,” Hotch started as he glanced at his watch to see they were landing in around ten minutes, “Morgan and Prentiss, start with the last abduction site, see if anything points to his MO.” 

Bugsy raised her hand politely, as if she were still in class, and he nodded in her direction to speak, “Do you mean as in me when you say Prentiss or as in Emily when you say Prentiss?” She asked, and Emily seemed to be having the same issue as she flicked a glance between the two of them.

“I mean Emily, for you I guess I’ll have to say-” But he stopped himself with a frown. What would he say? Bugsy? No, too informal on a case. Baby Prentiss? Absolutely not. He thinks she might just hit him if he said her first name too much. “We’ll workshop it for now. Dave, you, Prentiss, Reid and JJ go back over the women’s lives. Start with asking around their friends on the sites. If this is how the Unsub is finding them, maybe they’re connected to him without even realising.” 

The team was quiet for a moment, before Spencer pointed to Bugsy with his pen, “So that time you meant Bug, right?”

Dave wished he could protest but he had also been a bit confused, as Hotch rubbed his head tenderly. 

He felt the headache coming already. 

–

“What was it about these women that made him choose them as targets?” Bugsy asked as she and Spencer sat in a small room in the Boise precinct, the three victims' profile pictures staring back at them from the board. 

It was their second day working on the case, and other than Garcia tracking a very disturbing snuff film of the last murder being streamed from the victim’s own IP address using camera’s he’d set up in the home, they had yet to have a big breakthrough. Hotch had told her to leave the room when they’d shown the footage, knowing it was one of her first weeks on the case, and despite having a strong stomach, he wanted her to ease into the role rather than drop her in the deep end head first. 

Even seasoned agents like Morgan and Rossi had both winced, JJ even gagging as they watched it happen. They usually dealt with the aftermath, not have front row seats on the act itself. 

She had been allowed in once the tape had finished, but Reid had immediately shuffled her into the small office they’d been permitted to use by the Boise police, his face a little more peaky than usual.

She wished he wouldn’t worry so much about her, wished he would hide it better when he fretted over her. She was sure he would burst a vessel if he kept flicking his head to look at her, though she just sat staring at the women as if the answer would jump out at her. 

“They’re all pretty, aren’t they?” Bugsy said, swinging her legs beneath the table, her eyes roving over the three faces, “Though unconventionally, they’re still pretty.”

They weren’t his type, Spencer thought, they looked almost nothing like her. She had removed the last of the pink hair dye she’d managed to keep on top of for a year or so before she’d started at the university. Her nose piercing had progressed to a little thin silver hoop, though her earrings had been dialled down for safety reasons in the field, and she kept her hair tied back away from her face most days. She looked older, which was a dumb thing to think, since of course she was older. But she had grown into her face, and Spencer was entirely convinced she took after her father since the only thing she shared with Emily was the same pout when she thought too hard. 

He’d watched her grow for all of three years into the twenty five year old that sat before him, and yet her face had never really changed shape. She still had those pretty eyes that seemed to glint up at him, those soft lips that pursed when she tried not to giggle at him, that perfect nose he would trace the edge of using just his gaze when she had come over to his apartment to study for the academy. She was still as beautiful as the day he’d met her, he thinks part of him had always thought of her in that way. He had just put it down to a pretty girl giving him attention. But girls gave him attention all the time, he had realised since that stakeout at the club, when he’d given her those napkin roses. He just didn’t care for them. 

He only cared about what she thought of him. 

Only cared what her face looked like-

“Wait,” He stopped his thoughts that could go on for days, weeks, about her. They already had, it was difficult to pull himself out of it sometimes. He stared at the photos of the victims, his mind revelling in her own face that he didn’t doubt had guys swooning and falling over their own feet, as he zeroed in on their eyes, cheekbones, septums, “Their faces are all an identical structure,” 

“How did you figure that out?” She asked, wide eyed and he ripped down the photos before she could catch him blushing. 

He thought he might take it to the grave what he’d been thinking about. 

–

“He’s going live,” Hotch seethed, clicking a button on the remote and the whiteboard in the centre of the room lit up with video footage, a small red dot flashing slowly in the corner telling them they were watching it being streamed. 

Bugsy stood behind Spencer, her eyes glued to the small computer at the desk that played the same screen, her heart rate spiking when she saw a small body camera pointing at a house, the UnSub cutting across a lawn in a near sprint. 

He’d lost control completely, and he had another victim set in his sights. 

“He’s not slow, deliberate. This guy’s pissed.” Rossi said, his jaw hung open in horror as the streamer headed straight for the front door. 

“All right, what do we see? Determining markers?” Hotch snapped the groups focus back from the gut wrenching panic that everyone felt, and it was like a switch flipped.

“A one story cottage,” Spencer noted, his eyes glued to the screen so tight he missed the way Bugsy’s face changed colour, and she looked like she was swaying on her feet. 

“That could be anywhere,” Detective Fordham commented back, his face grimacing. 

“Is there a number on the house?” Morgan asked, and everyone leaned in closer to the footage. 

“No, he’s already at the door,” JJ said, running a hand through her long blonde hair. 

Bugsy thought she might be sick. 

“Garcia,” 

“He’s using twice as many proxy servers,” Her shaky voice came through the speaker, furious typing in the background.

“Wait, this window in the background, is that the chat room?” Emily asked, pointing to the small screen at the bottom that flooded with comments from at least forty different users, and more began entering the stream. 

Get that bitch. 

Show her a good time. 

Teach the pigs a lesson for sticking their nose in. 

Bugsy wished she hadn’t been so fast at reading, as she felt her skin go cold at the sight of the comments. 

“People are getting off on it,” She said quietly, but no one heard her, too focused on finding out where the UnSub was. 

“Uh Huh,” Garcia confirmed, as the footage flicked to show a kitchen view, a pretty fair haired woman stood chopping peppers none the wiser to the sick people watching her life before it was about to be ended. 

“He’s in the house, guys,” Reid ran clammy hands over his trousers, his stomach churning as the video went on.

“He’s completely changed his MO,” Derek added, and the team could do nothing but watch in terror, “There’s too much light, what happened?”

“Someone asked the wrong question at the press conference,” JJ explained from beside Reid, her nails bitten to hell. 

“Oh my god, turn around. Just turn around,” Emily begged, and part of her little sister thought she might have been talking about her. 

“Maybe she can fend him off,” Derek said, though even his tone of voice wasn’t convinced. 

“New kitchen appliances, maybe we could check the work order?” Spencer was grasping at straws he knew that, but he couldn’t sit back with that big brain of his working overtime and not try to help at all.

“He’ll be gone by then,” Rossi said, and he wasn’t entirely wrong.

“Garcia, can you give me anything?” Hotch asked, and the sound of typing got even faster if that was possible.

“I’m stateside now, I’m almost to Idaho, I just need more time,” but Garcia was cut of by the man in the video lurching at the innocent woman, his hands wrapping around her neck with a venomous grip, her every moment of pain and terror captured on his body cam for his audience to see. 

His audience including the team. 

Bug felt the bile rise then, felt her eyes burn as she watched the woman’s face freeze in fear, a yelp of “No!” leaving her oesophagus, her small hands coming up to his wrists to try pry him away from her, anything to gasp for another breath of air. 

She wasn’t listening as Hotch barked orders at Garcia, her eyes were stuck on the woman that writhed in pain, pleading with the masked man to spare her. But her rebuttals got weaker, her whimpers began to grow quieter, and soon he’d tackled her to the ground in a blood curdling scream, his whole body weight crushing her throat. 

Her own hand came up to cover her mouth that dropped open in shock, her eyes burning with tears that she couldn't let fall. It was this woman who was suffering, not her. 

There was a bit more struggling from the woman, her eyes bulging from her skull, lips turning blue, until she slumped beneath his hands, and he released her. 

She took a step back, bumping into a chair she hadn’t even known was there as her eyes fixed to the screen, and Spencer’s head shot around to see her shaking on the spot, her eyes haunted. 

Emily followed suit, but Spencer was already out of his seat, rushing forward to grab her arms and lead her outside. 

“I’m gonna get her some air,” He called behind him to the team that watched her go with forlorn glances, and he hated how he felt her trembling beneath his grip, grabbing onto his jacket just as tight. 

They made it halfway down the stairs before she bolted for the bathroom, and he heard her retching as he dipped into the room after her, not caring that the sign clearly stated it was for women. 

“I’m fine, Em, just give me a minute,” She said, and he heard the sniffles between her words. 

“It’s me,” He said, finding the one stall on the end that had it’s door engaged, pulling a cup from out of the dispenser and filling it at the water fountain, “You should drink some water, the cold helps reset your body’s instinct to fight or flight,” 

“Or in my case, make a complete fool of myself and take time away from a time sensitive investigation because I’m such a wuss,” She said cynically, coughing chestily and he heard the toilet flush. 

His forehead creased as he frowned. The door unlocked and she stepped out, her eyes red and teary as she gently took the water from his hands, and he rooted around his pocket for a stick of gum to give her. She chucked it in her mouth, letting the peppermint clear the vile taste from her mouth, hoping she didn’t look too gross. 

“You shouldn’t stand so close to me, toilet bowls are like full of germs and my heads just been in there, I know it makes you feel funny to be around germs-” He pushed her hair behind her ear as if to tell her to stop thinking so loud, and she couldn’t help smile sheepishly at him. “Do you think Hotch will be mad?” 

He shook his head instantly. 

“Mad? No. Worried? Incredibly.” Spencer replied, stroking her hair a little the way his mom used to when he felt sick. 

Bugsy shook her head, sniffing to herself a little more. 

She couldn’t stop seeing that woman’s face as the life slipped from her, the hands around her neck. The yelps and pleads and begs and she fought with everything in her.

“How long was it until you started feeling like this?” She asked earnestly, running a sleeve under her nose, “You’re so brave, I always knew you were but, since I started, it’s like I realised nothing really touches any of you anymore.”

He fought the incredulous laugh, him; brave? The man scared of the dark and elevators brave? 

“We all take things home with us at the end of the day,” He said, wiping under her eyes for her with his own cardigan cuff, “If you didn’t feel anything for the victims we help, you wouldn’t be human, Bug,”

She nodded, “I know. I just don’t want to let anyone down. Not you guys and especially not the people we’re helping,” 

“It’s for that reason I know you’re going to do great,” He said, giving her one of those small Spencer smiles he reserved for when he wanted to see one of hers. 

Her forehead thumped onto his chest as he pulled her a little closer, and his cheek fell on top of her hair as he ran gentle hands over the sides of her arms, calming her until her breath started evening out. 

“You never said,” She pointed out, “How long it took for you to start getting cold feet. Bet I beat some kind of record, two weeks is absolute dog shit,” She chuckled to herself, not noticing how his face evened out in sadness. 

It was Tobias Hankel that had done it. It was getting tied up and injected that had made him feel like a failure, like he wasn’t cut out for anything let alone the force. Like his life was taking a huge spiral downwards. 

But he wouldn’t tell her that, not yet at least. 

“Come on, let’s get you back,” He brushed off, and she figured it was a sore spot for him. She cursed herself for asking in the first place. 

Nodding, she downed the rest of the water and got herself a refill, following him out of the bathroom, looking back up at him for a moment.

“I forgot to say,” Bug said, nudging against his side with her whole body, knocking into him lovingly, “Your new hair is very… dashing. I really like it.”

He swore his face went crimson in a single second.

5. The one with his migraines

“Let me pay for your fuel at least,”

“Spence, just shut up and get in the car,”

That was around about how the past eight months had gone. Every day, she would drive by his apartment, Emily in the passenger seat of her little sisters beat up Renault Zoe, affectionately named after its model, the back seat reserved for Spencer’s lanky legs and satchel bag as she drove the three of them through through roads of Virginia, to work and back again. 

Sometimes he surprised her with coffee, sometimes Emily brought them donuts.  Either way, they all enjoyed their morning routine that had stood the test of time about as much as Bugsy had as part of the BAU. 

It had gotten easier after that first case; she still had her moments, but her skin had thickened to a point she barely remembered what her life had been like before that day Hotch asked her to join the academy. 

Things were going well, she felt settled, even with the new girl Seaver replacing JJ while Jareau was away on business in the pentagon. She couldn’t say she was the girl’s best friend, but they got along. And that was good enough for her. Her team was a well oiled machine. 

That was, except for Spencer. Spencer she worried for every day. 

She hated the way he twitched in the passenger seat, now his since she’d forced Emily to get the subway to work today, bitching eachother out in the way sisters did until the older woman left in a huff but without asking questions, and she left to take Spencer to the hospital. 

The sunglasses did little to stop his eyes hurting, his brain quite literally feeling as though it was pressing against his skull. He even turned down coffee this morning, and her stomach had dropped when she realised just how serious it was. 

He didn’t even question her when she held his hand tightly in hers as she walked him into the office, knowing he would hate every second of having this MRI done. 

“Everything’s going to be absolutely fine, they’re going to find what it is and we’re going to get you fixed right up to your perky self again,” She said, as they sat together outside the doctor’s office, keeping her voice calm and quiet as not to upset his delicate head even more. 

He nodded, appreciating her gentle touches on his hand, and he jumped in his seat when the door opened, his name being called through and he wished she could come with him. 

“You got this,” Bugsy smiled at him reassuringly when he looked hesitant, and nodded again, squeezing her hand once before he let go, following the nurse into the MRI room, wondering how he got so lucky to have a best friend like her. 

–

Spencer sighed, leaning back in his seat. The flight had not helped the building pressure in his head in the slightest. He looked up to the ceiling, closing his eyes as the harsh office lights beat against his face mercilessly. 

Two bodies found sacrificed to a 'higher being', their tongues and fingers cut off, shells put over their eyes and mouths. They had seen worse, perhaps not as odd, but they had seen worse. And yet this was the case that made him feel like his brain was about to explode right out his ears.

He hadn’t felt like this since he had been on Dilaudid, since he’d be on a come down and his whole body would sweat cold, and his head would rattle with every movement. And even that almost paled in comparison to how bad his head hurt right now. 

Spencer had wondered if that was what had done this to him, if it was a long term side effect of its use. He knew it wouldn’t be, but the self punishing part of him couldn’t help but fill his head with it. 

He just wanted answers. He just wanted it to stop. He just wanted to crawl into bed with an ice pack over his face and never surface again until this thing had subsided. 

Spencer felt hands in his hairline, fingernails weaving and massaging until he almost moaned, the touches releasing some of the metaphorical knots like magic at their fingertips, and he knew who it was, because that was how she always made him feel. 

He opened his eyes to see her very upside down as she looked down at him, their eyes inline with one another as she continued running her fingers against his temples gently. 

“You okay, handsome?” That was somewhat new, not that he was complaining. Part of him said she just felt bad for him and his weird brain, and maybe that was how it had always been, but ever since he had started getting these migraines she was impossibly even softer with him now. Like she was his comfort blanket he cuddled to when he was feeling particularly sorry for himself, and she knew it too. They were rarely not stuck together like velcro, where he moved, she moved. Where he sat, she was pressed against him like the concept of personal space had never been such a huge deal for him. 

And when his pain struck him down into the embodiment of a wounded doe, she was right there fluffing his pillows, grabbing him aspirin, massaging his head like she could grab the bastard migraine right out of his skull and say leave my precious boy alone. 

She was too sweet on him recently, but then he never wanted it to stop. It felt like a relationship without the kissing and especially without the sex. The thought of it made him want to moan again. 

“This one’s a stubborn one,” It had lingered around for three days straight, and the Miami heat wasn’t helping as he looked up at her inverted face, and he could tell she was smiling gently at him. 

She ran her thumbs over his eyebrows, smoothing them out and he sighed in delight as he felt the muscle begin to relax beneath her touch. 

“You make things better,” He confessed, her fingers tracing down his pretty nose, and he closed his eyes as she went over the bags beneath them. “You always do,” 

He felt her kiss his forehead for good luck, and he knew she hated seeing him in so much pain. He could have whined when she pulled away, letting go of him gently as Rossi stepped into the room, hoping he hadn’t seen the affection before too much teasing could come. 

But he said nothing, even if he had seen, just raised his eyebrows and grabbed the file off the desk for his own thorough look through. 

He sure as hell missed the way she interlaced their fingers under the desk though. 

–

Spencer twisted the bracelet around his wrist as they sat together outside the doctor's office. Orula’s ide. That was what Julio had called it. Said it would protect him from the bad spirits that clouded his head. 

Spencer was a man of science, a man of logic. But even he couldn’t quite explain how Julio had managed to figure out he was having migraines despite him not letting any infliction of pain cross his face, even more confused when Julio had said his body had been a conduit for a higher spirit who wanted to help him. 

He was glad to be back in Virginia where everything made sense to him. Where she could hold onto his knee at the doctor's office to stop it from bouncing and his team couldn’t tease or ask him what was wrong or make her stop touching him so much. 

“I say we get some ice on your head and put on whichever Doctor Who episode you want, don’t even care if we’ve seen it before,” She offered, smiling over at him and hoping he couldn’t see the worry in her eyes. 

He could. He just nudged her shoulder with his forehead to say thankyou without ruining the solace the quiet brought him. 

That is until his name was called, just as it was the last time he was here, and he stood to enter the office, not letting go of her hand as this time he’d made sure she could come. 

“That doesn’t make any sense,” He said as he sat on the bed, his doctor showing him the clear brain scans that hadn’t flagged a single neuron out of place. 

“I’m not sure what you want me to say,” His doctor replied, watching the way his female accomplice frowned, squeezing his hand tightly. 

“Isn't there any tests that would look for a specific prognosis we could try?” She asked, and the man shook his head. 

“Not unless we’ve ruled out every other option, and in this case I’d like to suggest that Dr. Reid’s condition might be psychosomatic in nature,” The doctor explained, wary of the way the two agents screwed their expressions up, almost identically, hearing his explanation of Spencer’s headaches. 

“Psychosomatic…” Spencer echoed softly, in near disbelief. 

That couldn’t be it. It had to be the Dilauded. Or a tumour. Or a long standing concussion. Something physical and tangible he could point out and get fixed.  

“It just means a mental or emotional cause-” The doctor explained, only to have Spencer cut him off. 

“No I know what ‘psychosomatic’ means Doctor, but it's not that,” He said, his voice tired; the idea he was making up his problem in his own head bothered him. 

“Well, I think it’s something we should consider.”

“Listen, I’m not crazy,” Spencer insisted, and he felt her tugging his hand closer to hers, her own way of comforting him when she couldn’t grab at his hair or face or jaw. 

“Dr Reid, I’m not saying-” But he was stopped by Spencer’s voice that was slowly growing more irate. 

“No, listen, I have headaches. I have increased sensitivity to light, because there’s something wrong with me physically. Not mentally. It’s not that,” He corrected the doctor, his sweet face pulled into a grumpy pout, almost offended that the professional was willing to write his pain off as a hallucinations. 

“That?” The doctor asked, a frown on his face as Spencer continued.

“Listen, doctor, my mother’s a paranoid schizophrenic who’s been institutionalised. So I know very well what mental illness looks like, maybe even better than you. It’s not that, it’s not.” Spencer said in a huff, standing from the bed and grabbing his satchel, all but pulling her from the room as she sped walked after him, her hand still tightly in his. 

She was gobsmacked. She didn’t know how she hadn’t seen it before, and suddenly every single instance of her whining about her mother to him entered her head and she felt a pit growing in her stomach that only had room for guilt. 

They sat in the car in silence, her hands at ten and two as she tried not to stare at him. 

She couldn’t stand the quiet in which he stewed, murmuring to himself every now and then about how that most certainly wasn’t what was causing his state to decline. 

“You never told me that before,” She said after a while, and it was quiet, whether to satiate his headache or because she didn’t know if she was allowed to say it he wasn’t sure. 

“It never came up,” He said in a way that left little question. He didn’t want to talk about it. 

They sat in the quiet some more, the only sound being the way her engine hummed beneath the bonnet, the music turned low for his pounding head, and he saw the way she chewed her lip and flicked glances at him from the driver's side.

He sighed, not wanting to snap at her the way he had the doctor, “Bug, would you please stop looking at me like that, like you pity me-”

“No, it’s not that it's…” She started carefully, her gaze flicking ot him for a moment as they stopped at a red light, “Every time I forget you’re the strongest person I know, you just seem to remind me,” 

And just like that his heart swelled all over again, and he felt like maybe his head wasn't an entire failure to him.

+1 The one with the eulogy.

This was hell on earth. 

She sat around the table at the funeral home with her mother to her left, her father and Stephanie to her right. 

She could feel the team’s eyes on her; she hadn’t spoken in days, her face shallow and off colour, sick looking. Speaking to her mother and father was difficult for her on a good day, let alone when she was all alone. 

Because that was how she looked, as if she were half a person now, her face bitter and angry as she tried to take up the least amount of space at the table as possible, her mother inspecting her finger beds as if they’d scorned her. 

“Sit up straight,” She chided, nudging her daughter's knee, but Bugsy made no move to adjust her posture. She just stared blankly at the ugly floral tablecloth, waiting for the other mourners to arrive, to give their sorrows, before they could move to the church. 

Emily was right next door. Cold. In a box. Her entire body was likely in rigour mortis now, her face was probably white as snow with the blood pooling away - pallor mortis Reid had called it - her hands were probably twisted and ugly like a raven's foot-

She couldn’t keep doing this to herself. And yet the thoughts wouldn’t stop, not even as Stephanie, step mother from heaven as she was, began to chime in to try lighten the mood. 

Her dad hadn’t said a word to her yet, just patted her on the head the way he hadn’t done since she was five. 

“It’s a lovely day for a funeral, don’t you think?” She commented, but her voice was too sweet, too soft, too normal to have the charm she’d intended. 

Stephanie wasn’t a bad person. Not evil or horrible like Bugsy had always thought a step mother would be. But she was the person her father had left little Bugsy for, and though she knew almost all of her anger had been displaced onto the poor woman when he’d told her he had a new wife, Stephanie had never exactly bothered to remedy their relationship. 

Emily and Bugsy had been someone else’s kids. Had been Richard Prentiss’ problems, not hers. And no amount of kindness she bothered to overcompensate with today would change the past twenty years her father had been too preoccupied to even call for her birthdays. 

Bugsy scoffed, ignoring the warning look from her father. He knew very well how his youngest felt about his wife. 

“Mr and Mrs Prentiss,” Hotch came over, as if sensing the girl’s annoyance at the woman’s words, and she mentally could have planted a kiss right on Aaron’s lips when he made the effort to exclude Stephanie in his condolences, “I’m so sorry for your loss. Losing a child is a devastation I never would wish on anyone,” 

“Thank you for your kind words, Mr Hotchner,” The step mother piped up again, before either of them could say anything, and Bugsy shot her a look so full of hatred, Aaron thought she might have slapped her right then and there. 

Richard cleared his throat, moving to put an arm around Steph’s chair, one that she’d pulled up to the table herself. 

If there was one thing Elizabeth and Bugsy would ever agree on it was that Stephanie was intolerable. 

Her mother looked empty as she nodded at Hotch, crossing her legs properly and pursing her lip, not saying anything. She’d never seen her mother cry, and she doubted that would start today. Elizabeth was much too of a proud woman to weep in front of the masses. 

“Thanks, Hotch,” Bugsy said the first words she had in days, the only time she’d gotten out of bed was to feel Niko and Sergio or to use the bathroom. Her voice was raspy, ghost like, and it scared the crap out of him. 

He couldn’t see her getting through this alive. 

With Haley, he’d had Jack to get him through it, keep him going, if not to put on a front for his little boy that was the spitting image of his wife. But Bug had nothing left of her sister, nothing but herself and two parents that couldn’t stand to look at one another without screaming curses. 

The other’s had already given their condolences, had already bombarded her with enough letters, flowers, stuffed teddies to fill a house, and she knew she wasn’t being fair ignoring them when they were grieving too. If not just as much as she was. 

But she couldn’t do anything, couldn’t be anything except this shell of a woman once called Bugsy. Her sister gave her that name, she didn’t think she deserved it anymore. 

Spencer just wished she would cry. He had been sobbing non stop, even where his eyes were puffy and red as Garcia’s as they stood in the funeral home, the smell of incense too strong, the sounds of wails too loud. But she looked… he hated to say it, she looked dead.

“That poor little lamb,” Penelope sniffled, tears already streaking down her cheeks as Derek tucked her under his arm, pulling her close into his smart black suit, “I wished she would let us in,”

“That girl is a carbon copy of Emily, of course she’s going to take herself off to lick her wounds,” Rossi said, his own fancy blazer stuffed with tissues in case his dark eyes welled up with tears again. He’d already managed to save himself once this morning before leaving the house, but he didn’t trust himself anymore than that. 

Spencer missed her smile more than anything, though he himself was struggling to muster anything past a grimace. 

“The Spring flowers are all in bloom, isn’t that lovely?” Stephanie continued, an easy grin on her face as she looked out of the window to the graveyard, as if she was entirely unaware of the grief lingering in the room, “I think she'll like it here,”

That was it. 

That was what pushed Bugsy over the edge, even Elizabeth broke her cold facade to look at the other women in shock, her daughter’s eye twitching as her head snapped to Stephanie, a rage encompassing her entire face.

“What the fuck would you know what she liked or didn’t like, Stephanie? She barely even fucking liked you,”  Bugsy hissed, drawing the attention of a few of the mourners with her vitriol anger. 

That wiped the smile off the woman’s face harder than any slap could have. 

“You watch your mouth, young lady,” Richard snapped, his face a blazen rage as Stephanie cowered behind him. 

Bugsy scoffed, and Hotch knew by the sound of it alone, something had been lit inside her that was about to go off like a hand grenade. 

He couldn’t say he blamed her. 

“I don’t know why you even bothered showing up, Dad. You’ve not seen either one of us since Emily left college,” She spat back, her eyes wild like a cat ready to claw its way out of a fight, “Surprised you even remember my name now you have your shiny new family and your million honeymoons to keep you busy,”

Richard stood from his chair, his black three piece creasing as he pointed in her face, his hand shaking with rage, and she saw the tears well in his eyes that looked too much like her own for her comfort. 

“You are turning out to be just like your mother, pushing away anyone who ever cared about you.” He barked, not caring that a few mourners turned to look at him in shock, “Don’t come crying back to me when you end up alone, little lady,” 

And with that he took Stephanie’s hand, who was the patron saint of guilt as of now, a face like a scolded child, too naive for the grown woman she really as. At least she had finally shut up, Bugsy thought darkly as her father stormed out of the home, ignoring the way faces watched hers carefully, knowing every word he’d said had been true. 

She thinks for a minute if Emily was here she’d poke fun at the way Steph’s face had been hilarious when her smile had dropped, or that her dad still had the worst temper out of them all, Bug included. She thinks that if Emily were here, she’d tell her he’d said all that stuff out of anger, and that she won’t end up alone, and that she’d always be with her.

She thinks that if Emily were here, she wouldn’t feel the empty nothingness where shame and sadness would be after having that entire thing play out infront of so many onlookers. 

But Emily wasn’t there. And she couldn’t even say she was shocked when her mother stood from her seat besides her too. 

“Where are you going?” Bugsy snarled, the Ambassador looking somewhat concerned before the expression fell and she went back to an equally lost look of her own. 

“I refuse to be made a spectacle of today,” Elizabeth said detachedly, collecting her purse over her black midi dress, her painted nails skimming the handle gently, “I can say my own goodbyes to your sister later, when everyone has left,” 

Coward. Coward. Coward. Bugsy wanted to scream after her, wanted to tear her hair out, wanted to grab the two of them by the neck and make them feel the way her words trapped inside her and clawed at her throat, sitting inside like a moth bouncing against a window trying to escape. 

But she said nothing. Did nothing, as her mother left the home, left her sitting there alone, until the officiant came over to her not even a moment’s later and told her it was time to start the funeral. 

And then she truly felt as if she would never be whole again. 

–

Her hands shook as she got to the podium. She’d always hated public speaking, which Spencer thought was odd since she seemed to grab the attention of every room she walked into like it was second nature. She didn’t even bat an eyelid at chasing down a criminal or being shot at or evening chewing out a detective that wasn’t pulling his weight, but speaking to a handful of decorated officers that watched her with grieving eyes was too much. 

Adjusting the mic to a more appropriate height, they watched her eyes scan the room, her brows scrunched, her mouth dry. Trying to find Emily, Hotch realised with a crack in his chest. The way she always did when she was nervous. The way she did when she was looking for Emily to come save her. 

“H-hi, um,” Her voice shook, her fingers fiddling with the chord for something to do, “Mom- Ambassador Prentiss got called out on business so I guess I’ll be giving the eulogy,” 

No one spoke, not even the ones who knew it was a lie, her eyes falling to where Spencer gave her a sad smile, some sort of encouragement for her to keep going, though his eyes were red and bloodshot, and he was sure the burn in his throat was rising again. 

She hadn’t cried yet. Penelope had cried four times today alone. 

“I- um, I wasn’t really prepared for a speech, so I’m, um, I’m just going to read the letter I wrote to her if that’s okay?” Her head shot to the priest who had handed the spotlight over to her, the warm spring breeze pulling at his robes as he nodded, his hand gesturing for her to continue. 

She cleared her throat, tearing the envelope open, and the paper rattled in her fingertips with her shaking hands as she pulled out the double sided A4 that had been written on in neat blue ink. 

Unfolding it, she let her gaze rip off the crowd of people who stared at her, waiting for whatever it was she had to say, the final words her sister’s body would hear before she was put in the ground forever. The last goodbye. The only one that had ever mattered. 

“Dear Emily,” Bugsy read, her voice finding footing as she was able to look away from the hundreds of eyes that watched her tearfully. But it was the wrong move. Because the minute she’d prepared herself to say the words out loud she felt her eyes well up. 

This was it. The last chance she would ever get to tell Emily how she felt. How sorry she was. How she was so damn sorry for being such a shitty person for so many years, for never saying thank you enough, for never hugging her when she really ought to have, for never appreciating how lucky she was to have a sister like her. 

Her throat clogged, and she sucked in a deep breath, releasing a trembling sigh. Her bottom lip quivered. 

“Sorry-” She apologised to the watchers, rubbing her mouth nervously, hoping no one could see just how deeply she had broken, just how harsh the wound had gaped open, “Dear Emily,” She started again;

“Everyone thinks they know what a sister is; it's the woman you share fifty percent of your DNA with who you’re put on this earth to annoy the shit out of,” A small wet laugh reverberated around the crowd, and she flashed a small smile at her own words. “But the truth is you can actually share up to sixty-one percent of your genes with one of your siblings. Which is crazy to me, because I know no matter how hard I try, I will never be even one percent of the woman you are,” 

She swallowed heavily, and she heard Penny burst out crying again, her head buried in Morgan’s neck. 

“If I was as gracious as you, I’d probably say you’re in a better place now, and if I was as brave, we probably wouldn’t even be here, because I would have been able to save you that day instead of just watching like a fly on the wall.” The first tear fell then, her face crumpling in pain. “If I was as considerate as you, I would be able to look every one of your friends in the eyes and tell them it would all be okay in the end. And if I was even the tiniest bit as kind as you, then I would have told you all of this to your face when it actually mattered.”

She sniffed heavily, and Derek did the same, his own throat burning, picking the thread on his nice trousers as Penelope’s tears wet his shirt through. 

“Everyone thinks that true love is finding someone you want to marry and have children with, but I know now that’s not the entirety of it. Love is a person you want to spend every day making happy, and make them proud to say they love you too.” Her chin wobbled some more as she read the next few sentences with something darker than remorse in her glassy eyes, “I sometimes think, if we were given a second chance, if we could try again, I would be able to tell you that I truly love you, Emily, and that you’re the only person I ever cared about loving me too,”

Her voice cracked, and she regarded the paper with misty eyes, her cheeks soaked as she quickly wiped them with the back of her white, lace gloves. 

“I think maybe next time I wouldn’t be so spoiled and bratty, and you could have been more relaxed and maybe less like my mom at times, but I think if we could do it over, we could have done it right, the way sisters are supposed to,” She sniffed, missing the way Spencer’s face dripped with tears of his own, her words tearing him inside and out with the guilt in every line. “But I guess it’s too late for that now. I only got one chance to be your sister and I failed, no matter how many times you pulled through for me. And that’s a debt I’ll never be able to repay.”

She braved a look at the closed casket, imagining her big sister, the only person she ever truly loved laying in there with fair, snow skin, her noir hair sitting perfectly like a princess in the fairytales she used to read to her before bed. Only this one had no happy ending. This one ended with her heart torn from her chest, bleeding for the rest of her days until her own body was buried and everyone could mourn the girl who was barely half the woman her sister was, no matter what the statistics say.

“I’m sorry, Emily” It was the first time she’d said the two words that had been playing in her head on a loop for weeks, the two words that sang to her like a mantra, every morning, noon and evening. Even in her sleep she had dreams where she could do nothing but scream into a void of darkness, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. It should have been me, I’m sorry. “I hope you can forgive me,” She whimpered through a sob, ignoring the way her cheeks gushed with fat tears now, as she wept freely at the podium, her hands no longer shaking. 

“Lots of love, your shitty baby sister, Bugsy.” She finished with a small whine, her expression broken as she folded the letter back up and placed it in the envelope, the cursive lettering of her big sister’s name staring back at her. Finishing where she’d started. 

Tucking the letter underneath a tulip wreath atop the coffin, she stepped back down off the podium, ignoring the way the eyes followed her back to her seat, ignoring the way Derek rubbed her shoulder affectionately, or the way JJ handed her a packet of tissues, even though her own face was flooded, and showed no signs of stopping. She felt Spencer grab her hand in his delicately, entwining their fingers together, and squeezing lightly. 

The priest continued with a hymn, though she didn’t bother singing it. She just stared at her shoes, as if her entire soul had been sucked from her the minute she’d ended the eulogy. 

Which it had, because that had been Emily’s last goodbye. 

She didn’t speak in the car on the way back to Spencer’s, not as Hotch pulled her in for a wide hug, rare and warm, even going so far as to stroke the back of her head with more affection than they’d ever seen him give her. 

“Call me if you need anything,” He’d murmured into the side of her head as he held her close, feeling two hands hesitantly wrap around his waist, as if she wasn’t entirely switched on which, going by the vacant look on her face she wasn’t. 

Spencer made her tea the moment they got in. She didn’t ask for it, she just sat on the sofa and stared at the beat up, old TV he kept only for the occasional documentary, and for the shows she liked to watch too of course. But she hadn’t even switched it on, just stared at the inky black glass like it would jump to life itself and tell her how to feel. 

He took a seat next to her, on the other end of the couch, flicking the screen on for something to stop it from being so silent in his home; the silence meant they were alone with their thoughts, and for once he and his thoughts couldn’t stand being together. He didn’t want to interrupt her, or be the first to break the quiet. Not even when he watched her tea go cold in front of her, or as she barely acknowledged the cartoon on the TV, or when he pulled out his copy of The Brothers Karamazov that he’d been re-reading for the third time. 

“Would you like me to read to you? Would that be better?” He asked tentatively, and she didn’t even blink, as if she were some sort of zombie or corpse sitting next to him programmed for instruction on acting human. 

She said nothing, but she did move, the act of it making him jump slightly, and it was then he realised she had been perfectly still for the past half an hour, barely even showing signs of breath. A puppet with no master. 

She leaned over, her body dropping onto the sofa softly as if she was taking a nap, only for her head to rest on his thigh, and his hand flew to pull the claw clip out of her hair like he read her mind. Her knees nestled to her chest, in foetal position, her pretty black dress, the same one she’d worn for Haley’s funeral riding up past her knees. 

He gently tucked his long fingers into her roots, stroking her hair like she were a tame cat curled in his lap, clearing his voice as he continued where he’d left off, making sure he wasn’t reading too fast the way he would if it was just him. 

His head still whirled around the eulogy she’d read. How watching her crack beneath the weight of her own words had hurt him more than his own grief, had made him bury whatever it was he felt and just need to put her back together again. 

Because he didn’t need an eidetic memory to have ingrained what she’d said into his head, not even as they went to bed, and she burrowed into his side in one of his sweatshirts he usually saved for his own bad days. 

“Bug,” He braved to say, watching her eyes force themselves open from where they were on the very lip of sleeping, “You’re my very best friend, did you know that?” 

She hummed, her nose digging into his arm that he wound under her head, pulling her close enough he could feel her heartbeat against his own where she was in the crook of his neck. 

“I love you,” She said, like those three words didn’t rip the air from his lungs. 

Not even as her breathing finally evened out, and he felt himself heave a sigh of relief; the bags under her eyes had been more noticeable today than ever. Not even when he dared a kiss to her forehead as she slept, the smell of her shampoo completely taking over his pillow as he allowed his own heart to hurt for just a few moments, missing his friend dearly as he looked after the woman.

Love is a person you want to spend every day making them happy, and make them proud to say they love you too. 

He knew then.

–

TAGLIST

@release-your-sweets @smileykiddie08 @caramelised-onions@the-tpd-bau @stephthepeach @sunflowersndpeaches @sammy-4103 @starmansirius @yeonalie @delusionallooney @hades-disappointment-child @sadbae-33

[justmystyles]

The Morning After

read my other work here!

pairing: Harry Styles x plus size reader

*i say it's a plus size reader, but it is not something that i focus on explicitly in my fics, because your size should not define you. it will only come up if it comes into the story organically.*

word count: 2,583

trigger warning: vomiting

summary: the morning after Harry's 30th birthday, you're hungover and Harry reminds you of your drunken actions from the night before, leading to a conversation you never expected.

a/n: i missed Harry's birthday, but I got this idea for a morning after fic, so here we are. i've been writing a few things behind the scenes, and I know i've said a few times that I was going to try to come back, but this time i mean it. i'm working on a couple of one shots, and a new series that i'm very excited about, so hopefully you'll hear more from me soon!

tags: @abby8694 @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @blueraspberryreader @brightlightsinlife @creativelyeva @cute-as-ducks420 @deannaard @fanficismydrug @gem1712 @golden-hoax @gothmingguk @groovychaosavenue @hillzrry @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jng4kook @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @laurxn-robinson @lexiecamposv @likeapplejuicenpeach @lilfreakjez @mrs-anna-styles211994 @n0vaj3an @potterheadandsherlocked @rach2699 @ravenclawdirectioner @stylesfeverr @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tiaamberxx @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat

You open your eyes and immediately groan in pain as they meet the sunlight shining into your bedroom. You quickly shut them and pull your pillow over your face. You had promised yourself you wouldn’t go too hard last night, but Harry kept wanting to do shots, and who were you to deny the birthday boy? 

It was your best friend, Harry’s 30th birthday party, and he spared no expense. The room was packed with his closest family and friends, including a long list of famous faces. There was loud music, dancing, tons of food, and of course, alcohol. As with most parties, Harry barely let you out of his sight, and any time a tray of shots went past him he’d grab one for each of you. You lost count after a while, and truthfully, you aren’t really sure how you ended up at home and in your bed. You assumed Harry had something to do with it. You rarely got drunk, but when you did Harry was always very protective and caring, even if he was two sheets to the wind himself. 

The ringing of your doorbell, followed by the incessant knocking at your door feel like a thousand nails being hammered into your head. You groan, but know it isn’t going to stop until you answer the door. You throw your legs over the side of your bed and sit still for a moment, working up the energy to stand and walk to the front door. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice a full glass of water and a couple of aspirin, sitting on top of the note: 

For the lightweight in my life. 

xH

A small smile plays on your lips at the note, combined with the thoughtfulness of your best friend. You take the pills and drink the entire glass of water before standing and making your way to the front door. You are immediately met with Harry’s infuriatingly handsome face, a wide grin plastered across it as if last night never happened. 

“Took you long enough.” He says in a bright, teasing tone. You immediately bring your hand to your forehead, the voice that usually causes butterflies in your stomach piercing right through your brain. “Rough night?” He asks knowingly. 

You flip him off before stepping aside to let him in. “How can you possibly be this okay right now?” You ask in disbelief as you shuffle to the couch, collapsing onto your back and resting your arm across your eyes. “I’m not just okay, I’m great!” He lifts your feet up and sits on the couch, placing your legs down in his lap. “I’ve been up for hours, went on a nice run, got some shopping done. It’s been quite a productive day.” 

You pull the pillow out from under your head and throw it at him. He catches it with ease and chuckles at your meek sign of aggression. 

The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a few moments before you finally speak up. “I’m not going to be a fun hang today, just so you know.”

Harry chuckles and shakes his head. “You never are, why would today be any different?” He jokes. You move your arm away from your eyes and look up at him, narrowing your gaze. 

He lets out a loud laugh and holds his hands up defensively. “Just kidding! You know you’re my favorite.” He leans over and boops your nose. A sign of affection the two of you often share. 

You smirk and shake your head as it falls back on the couch. “Did you have fun last night?” 

“So much fun, the party was amazing!” Harry beams. “I got to see so many people that I hadn’t seen in a while. But you know what my favorite part was?” 

You groan in reply, signaling for him to continue, your eyes closed to block the sunlight. 

He turns to look at your face, his expression and tone softening. “At the end of the night, when we were saying goodbye to everyone and you kissed me…”

It feels as though time stands still. The nausea and pain from the hangover immediately replaced by panic and shock. You sit up straight and look at him with a furrowed brow. “Kissed… like kissed kissed?” 

He grins and nods. “A proper kiss, tongue and everything.” 

Your face immediately turns a bright shade of crimson and your eyes go wide. You’d had more than friendly feelings for Harry for a while, but you were certain those feelings would never be returned. He always introduced you to his superstar, super skinny girlfriends, so you always felt your thick thighs and big stomach were far from his type. You’d much rather spend your life hiding your feelings and having him in your life as a friend than to tell him how you feel and end up losing him because those feelings weren’t returned. 

“Harry, I am so sorry… I was drunk… I don’t even remember it happening… I…” You panic and begin to ramble out an apology. 

“Hey hey hey,” he interrupts you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “You have nothing to apologize for. I was glad that you kissed me. It was nice, I felt… wanted.”

You scoff slightly. “You’re one of the most wanted men in the world, you don’t need a sloppy drunk kiss for that.”

“But I liked feeling wanted by you. You didn’t want Harry Styles, famous pop star. You wanted me, just regular Harry.” 

“Just regular Harry is my favorite person.” You say in a soft, caring tone. 

“I know he is, that’s why I enjoyed that kiss so much. And it got me wondering…” He trails off, thinking of the best way to bring up what he wants to say. “They often say people are their most honest selves when they’re drunk, so I was wondering if that kiss meant anything to you? Like if maybe you were thinking of me as more than just a friend…” 

Your hangover mixed with the anxiety of being called out for your secret feelings causes your nausea to return. You immediately start stuttering. “What? I… you’re my best friend! We aren’t… I don’t…”

Harry reaches out, gently cupping your cheeks in his hands. “Shhh, it’s okay. We’re always going to be best friends, I promise.” He assures you, his eyes staring deep into yours. “Do you want to know what I wished for last night when I blew out my candles?” 

You shake your head slowly, your mind racing and your stomach churning too much to actually be able to form words. 

“The same thing I’ve wished for every birthday since you came into my life. For you to see me as more than your best friend, for you to want me even half as much as I want you.” 

Your breath hitches at his words, you study his expression and see love, adoration, vulnerability in his eyes. Before you can respond, you feel the nausea taking over. You push out of Harry’s arms and run to the bathroom, You drop to your knees just in time to empty the contents of your stomach into the toilet. 

Harry is right behind you, kneeling down next to you, pulling your hair back with one hand, and rubbing your back in soothing circles with the other. “Shh, you’re okay Y/N, just let it out. You’ll feel so much better when it’s over.” 

When you’re finally finished throwing up you shift so that you;re sitting on the floor, your back resting against the wall. Harry grabs a washcloth and runs it under the water before bringing it to you and dabbing it on your forehead. “You know, you could have just said no. It doesn’t do great things for one’s self esteem to have a girl vomit the moment you declare your love for her.” He says with a chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. 

You let out a small, weak chuckle. “Harry, I…” You whisper. 

“It’s just a joke, love. Let’s not talk about it right now, let me just take care of you, yeah?” He says kindly, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear as you nod in reply. “Good girl, now what do you need?” 

“Toothbrush…” 

He nods, and places a kiss on your forehead before standing up and getting your toothbrush, he puts a bead of toothpaste on it and kneels back down handing it to you. “Go easy, you don’t want to start anything back up.”

You look at him gratefully as you begin brushing your teeth. He watches on, as he strokes your hair to comfort you. 

“Is it weird that I think you look cute when you’re sick?” He asks, looking at you fondly. 

You let out a soft chuckle and shake your head as you continue to brush your teeth. 

His smile grows at the sound of your laugh. “I love that laugh, I’m glad I was able to get it out of you even when you’re feeling like this.” He’s silent for a moment before speaking up again. “I hate that you don’t feel good, but I love being able to take care of you. Especially when you’re so vulnerable like this, it shows how much you trust me, and that means everything to me.”

You look up at him as you brush your teeth, hoping your expression conveys all of the love and gratitude in your heart at that moment. You slowly stand up and make your way to the sink, where you spit and rinse. 

Harry is quick to get up and stand beside you, he takes in your blotchy complexion and messy hair, and it’s clear that you’ve still got a long way to go before you’re back to normal. “Still not feeling so great?”

You shake your head. “I told you I wasn’t going to be a good hang…”

Harry chuckles. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’m having a blast! C’mon, let’s get you back to bed.” He moves to put his arms around you as if he’s going to try to lift you.

“Harry, what are you doing?” You step back from his arms. 

“I’m carrying you to bed.” He says, confused. He thought it was pretty clear what he was doing. 

“I can walk, it’s fine. Nobody wins if you try to carry me.”

He furrows his brow and tilts his head. “What do you mean, nobody wins?”

You sigh, hating that you have to spell it out for him. “You’re not going to be able to lift me. You’re going to feel bad because you were wrong, and I won’t even be able to gloat about being right because I’ll feel bad about being fat.” 

“Hey,” Harry says sternly. “I told you never to say that about yourself.” You had always been self-deprecating, and Harry hated it. He wished you could see yourself the way he did, because he saw you as absolutely perfect and beautiful. 

You look down, embarrassed about the slip of the tongue. You had stopped saying it in front of Harry, but you hadn’t stopped believing it, so in your weakened state, you had let it slip my mistake. 

Harry slides a finger under your chin and lifts your gaze. “How about this? Let me try, if I can’t carry you to bed, I’ll clean up your whole apartment while you sleep. If I can, you have to cuddle in bed with me all day. Deal?” 

You roll your eyes and sigh, knowing he’s not going to let this go. “Fine.” 

Harry grins triumphantly and scoops you up with ease, carrying you bridal style down the hall and to your room, where he places you gently on the bed. He tucks you in before moving to the other side and slipping in next to you. “Told you so.” He says smugly. 

“Nobody’s ever been able to do that before.” You say in awe. 

He smiles and pulls you into him, laying your head on his chest. “I bet I can name three more things nobody else can do for you…” He kisses the top of your head. 

“Try me,” you mumble as you snuggle closer to him. 

“I can make you laugh when you’re at your worst, I can calm you down when you’re spiraling, and I can make you turn that adorable shade of red when I get flirty with you.” He chuckles. 

You sigh and nod your head against his chest, agreeing to all three statements. 

He squeezes you a little tighter, one hand coming up to stroke your hair. “And you do all those things for me. That’s why I think we’d be so amazing together. We bring out the best in each other, and provide comfort and support at our worst. I can’t think of anything more important in a relationship.” 

I hum thoughtfully, tears welling in my eyes at his words. He’s right, of course you’ve seen it all along, but the fact that he sees it too is overwhelming. I tilt my head and lock eyes with him. 

When he sees your watery eyes, his expression drops. “Oh, Y/N I’m sorry if I said too much. Nothing has to change if you don’t want it to, I promise. Just don’t cry, okay?” He reaches down to cup your cheek, wiping a stray tear away with his thumb. 

You shake your head rapidly. “No no no, I just… I never thought I’d hear you say this kind of stuff to me. I agree with you completely.”

Harry’s breath hitches at your words, a wide grin spreads across his face. “Yeah?” You grin back and nod your head. “So you’d be willing to give us a shot… as more than friends?” 

“Definitely.” You say without hesitation. 

He smiles softly and strokes your cheek with his thumb. “I really want to kiss you, but I’m afraid you’ll throw up again, and my ego can’t take it.” He says lightheartedly. 

You giggle softly. “I get it. It’s okay, I feel too gross to kiss anyone right now anyway.” 

“What can I do for you right now?” 

“Um… I actually think I want to take a shower, but I can do that on my own.” 

Harry arches a brow and smirks slyly at you. “You sure I can’t help you?” 

You chuckle and slap his chest playfully. “Positive, you perv.”

“Fine, fine… how about this? While you shower, I’ll make you some breakfast, to help your tummy.” He runs his fingers through your hair, wanting nothing more than to take care of you. 

You smile and blush. “You don’t have to do that…”

“You’re my girl,” he pauses, letting the gravity of his words sink in, you both smile dreamily at each other. “It’s my job to take care of you.” 

“Your girl…” You sigh. 

He smiles as he stares down at your dreamy expression. “You alright?” 

“Yeah… actually, I’m suddenly feeling much better.” 

Harry chuckles, kissing you on the forehead. “Good, well you go shower and I’ll make you a nice breakfast, we’ll get you back to normal in no time.

You roll out of bed and make your way to the door. You throw one more glance over your shoulder, smiling softly at Harry. When your eyes meet, he blows you a kiss. In that moment, he can’t help but think that thirty could be his best year yet. 

[ingravinoveritas]

So I just wanna ask u just does this look like a real happy healthy relationship and in love with each or just put on for show for the fans and why do I feel like she making it all about her again and reminded everyone who she with it feels micheal was forced in the pictures taking with her the red carpet photo she looked bored and annoyed cos michael not paying any attention he just look miserable but I bet if it was David standing there instead of anna his face would be beaming like the one Georgia posted of them 4 together micheal face is electric and see how he lean toward David that best friend goals and I just love seeing them together cos that when he at his most happiness place

Also I find it strange that Anna was left out in staged scene but David wife gerogia made appearance doesn't that strike u as odd and gerogia brought the plus one date a girl could have and it wasnt anna yet they call each other wife clearly not as close etc then David and Michael are it seems.

And did u notice in the scene with David and Tom hiddleson about the dog sitter initially could present as benign and then he and the dog get up to all kinds of hijinks and ultimately disrupt stuffy old Michael sheen boring life but for the better like why put that in the script maybe his life with anna is boring and only staying cos he feels he needs too for the young children what do u think of all this

From @amata-haan along with a screenshot of the group photo:

(Grouping all of these together since it seems we've got a bit to talk about here.)

So, the biggest point of discussion seems to be the group pic that Georgia posted, and I will put up a larger size of that for us to discuss:

When I saw that Georgia had posted this in an Insta story, of course my first thought was "Finally a picture of Michael and David together!" I think that was what we were all hoping for all night, to where it was almost glaring that we hadn't gotten one when the event ended (until Georgia's post, that is).

The second thing that came to mind is what you alluded to @moriarty-sisters, about this being a near repeat of what we've seen a few times before (first at the NTAs in 2021, and then the group photo Georgia posted on Michael's birthday, that appears to have been taken after Michael went to see Macbeth):

Every time, Georgia is on the right. Every time, she and Anna have the same tight smiles while Michael and David have huge grins on their faces. At this point, it feels intentional, because twice might be a coincidence, but three times is a plan. There are slight differences to the vibes in each picture--although Georgia looks like she knows a secret and Michael and David look like a very happy couple in every one of them--but last night's group pic was...something.

Which takes me to your comment @phantomstars24 about how Michael is holding AL. I was under the impression that he had his hand on her waist, but if he is touching her breast, I'm perplexed at that being her reaction. She looks stiff and like a deer caught in the headlights, and regardless of where Michael's hand is, it doesn't seem like that's a great way to look when your own boyfriend is touching you. Adding to the strange optics is the fact that Michael is actually leaning toward David in the picture and away from her. It looks like his arm/shoulder is pressing into David and there isn't a millimeter of space between them, yet he seems to be a mile away from Anna despite having an arm around her.

(And none of this is even touching on Georgia using the theme song from Friends in the Insta story for the group pic, which she had to know we would all notice...)

So yes, a lot of thoughts on the group pic, but overall delighted to see Michael and David looking so happy next to each other. Especially Michael, in stark contrast to how he looked in some of the other pictures.

Speaking of which...I briefly talked about Michael and AL at the BAFTAs yesterday here and here, so I will try not to repeat myself too much in this part of my answer. But what I think we are seeing is two things: Anna's fantasy of what she thinks her and Michael's relationship is, and the reality of what we saw at the BAFTAs.

I think in AL's mind, she and Michael were like Georgia and David. But if we are going to say that Georgia and David were very loving and sweet together on the red carpet yesterday--which they absolutely were, with the kiss they shared and David comforting Georgia when she was experiencing anxiety--then there is no way you can look at the pictures of Michael and Anna and see the same thing. Even without bringing GT/DT into it, there is a massive, marked difference between pictures of Michael with AL vs. pictures of him with literally anyone else (such as this pic with Hannah Waddingham).

Looking at Anna's pictures that she posted, every one of them seems to be about ownership, right down to the Insta story with the #mine hashtag (which again seems to be her copying Georgia, also on the night of an award ceremony). The vibe that I got was of a teenager who'd won a date with her favorite celebrity and took him to the prom. Ultimately, though, she looked out of place, and he looked uncomfortable with her, both of which are a remarkable feat after five years of a relationship.

The pictures also repeated themes we've seen before (AL has previously posted a picture of her kissing Michael's cheek where he looks equally withdrawn; the photo in the car on the way to the event is a copy of pictures Georgia has posted of her and David in the car on the way to events) and speak to that idea of pushing a certain narrative, despite neither one of them appearing to sell it very well.

To that end, and to your comments @lepqueen and @turquoisedata, I would agree with you that it looks like AL is trying to mark her territory. The problem is that Michael had more chemistry just talking with David in that opening BAFTAs sketch than he did with Anna the entire night, and she was frequently left looking like she had no idea what she was doing or why she was there. Another example of this is an Insta story she posted earlier today that again demonstrated her main interest in the relationship:

What's particularly noteworthy is the follow up Insta story on the right, which I couldn't believe she actually posted. I think that if you are fine and happy with the narrative you've put out, you are not going to be bothered by or salty about a comment like that, and AL clearly was. And all of this then casts at least some doubt that the pictures she posted are really telling the whole story. Just a recap of what we do know about last night (and if I am forgetting anything, someone please let me know):

- Anna was the only principal member of the cast who was not in the Staged-themed opening sketch, despite being in all three seasons of the show. - Anna was not seated next to Michael during the in person part of the opening sketch, despite there being no reason the producers couldn't have put her next to him even as a seat filler. - Georgia brought her friend Daisy Aitkens as a +1 and sat with her instead of Anna, leaving us with the above picture of AL sitting alone and staring straight ahead while in the background of a Michael J. Fox picture (that she is acting like is a picture of her with him, instead of her photobombing a picture of MJF with his wife). - During the show, the camera repeatedly cut to Michael in the audience when there was no reason to do so, but did not show Anna on camera once.

So yes, I think that if last night at the BAFTAs was somehow AL's attempt to mark her territory/assert her place in the UK acting industry, it did not seem to go over well. I think David and Georgia's relationship and Michael and David's relationship emerged even stronger than before, and unfortunately AL and Michael's relationship did not and does not compare.

My apologies for rambling on, as I never intended for this to get so long. As I've said before, this is all just my opinion, and I know I could be completely wrong, so I'm glad as always to hear from my followers with your thoughts. Thanks for writing in! x

[fellthemarvelous]

Staged and Good Omens: The discontinuity of a story within a story within a story.

I'm watching the third season of Staged again right now, and I think I've figured something out.

The discontinuity that people are talking about of Good Omens 2.

Staged 3 was a very modern version of A Christmas Carol. Ep 1. Is there a version? (David and Michael work with Simon again) Ep 2. Who's Playing Who? (Scrooge, episode was a farce) Ep 3. Past (Michael and David are co-dependent af) Ep 4. Present (Michael and David fail to write a script) Ep 5. Future (David tells everyone they are doing a live show) Ep 6. Knock, Knock (Simon gets even, ending is sad but not really because they are just taking a break and breaks don't last forever, and Simon gets a job offer based on his script for Knock, Knock, the one story he didn't write.)

The epic trainwreck that is David and Michael's live version of A Christmas Carol is actually a hit, but everyone else has to convince them to stop the show because it can't go on forever. So they end it with Michael and David agreeing to take a break from working together even though it makes both of them sad.

But the whole premise of Staged was that everything was filmed on iPads, computers and cell phones. And it was submitted to Simon so he could piece it together.

Simon Evans wrote Staged as a love story between David and Michael. Simon writes what he sees and finds ways to incorporate fiction into reality. He saw them on Good Omens together and he saw the chemistry between David and Michael, and he turned it into a comedy about these two eccentric actors who clearly love each other. And they agreed to star in it.

They improvised most of it, but Simon laid out the framework of the plot for them to follow, and then he let them be themselves.

The entire show has layers upon layers of meta weaved into it.

Anyway, my point is...

This post is one of several that covers the different ways discontinuity seems to occur during Good Omens 2. The evidence is very compelling.

I'm not here to point all that out because I don't have the strength of some of the meta writers in this fandom, and they're already on top of it, but if we look to Staged as an example, what is the plotline that Good Omens 2 is following?

Good Omens 2 is a modern version of.... Ep 1. The Arrival Ep 2. The Clue (A Companion to Owls) Ep 3. I Know Where I'm Going (The Resurrectionists) Ep 4. The Hitchhiker (Nazi Zombie Flesheaters) Ep 5. The Ball Ep 6. Every Day

What are the stories happening around Aziraphale and Crowley? They're the focal point of season two, but what else is happening?

Neil Gaiman has said that everything means something. They aren't just showing us these things by accident. There is a story happening outside of Crowley and Aziraphale's relationship. And we are all looking closely for that person doing a very odd thing just out of sight or objects being moved around without knowing how they got there in the first place.

There was literally an entire scene in Staged where they are trying to figure out who is playing Scrooge and Simon is so anxious that he keeps moving his plant between two different spots in the room. It also ends up with Georgia accidentally planning her own birthday party because David is in Tokyo. But then they cut at one point and you learn David was actually in his bedroom and not a hotel room in Japan and Georgia didn't really just plan her own birthday party. That chaos was scripted. David has to change clothes, they have to go several minutes back in the scene they just did, but as Anna points out, the sun is not in the same place it was when they started the scene. And then Michael loses his shit at Simon and storms off.

You think that's the reason Simon left, but then we get the episode where Georgia tells David Michael wants to write the script and then tells Michael that David wants to write the script. She does it so she can get them alone in a room together because people love watching them argue. They find out she set them up about six hours later. They are hungry and hot and annoyed and mad at her so she gets Simon to come back to work with David and Michael. Simon comes back from cosplaying as a dentist, brings the food Michael ordered hours ago, and sits down to write. Michael gets pissed off at Simon again because Simon forgot the prawn crackers, so he throws his food at Simon.

Some of these are of the past. Some are of the present. They were all filmed at the same time though so you don't know what happened when or why.

These scenes are all cobbled together. They tell a complete story though. The order just isn't exact.

The story we are seeing in season 2 isn't the real story. It was happening around Aziraphale and Crowley, but with them at the focal point, you get a romantic comedy and it distracts you from what's going on in the background.

There is more than one story in season 2. It's basically a jigsaw puzzle that we can try to piece together, but we won't know what's actually happening until we get the much needed context of season 3.

There are clues all over the place in Good Omens 2. The story is being told through so many other methods except for the one that makes the most sense to us because someone doesn't want us to see what's coming, so we get distracted by Nina and Maggie, Jim, Aziraphale and Crowley.

We know Muriel and Saraqael are up to something. We know Shax and Furfur are up to something. We know the Metatron is up to something. What we don't know is where God went. We hear God's voice in Companion to Owls and we hear God's voice speaking through and with Jim when Crowley orders him to tell them what is going on. It ties directly to the first time Crowley and Aziraphale ever worked together.

We know that Aziraphale is going to Edinburgh and he knows exactly where he's going because he and Crowley have been there before. It challenges the concept of good and evil because Crowley does the good thing and gets sucked into Hell. Right next to Gabriel's statue.

We know that Aziraphale picks up a hitchhiker even though he doesn't want to, and it turns out to be Shax. She reminds Aziraphale of the time that Furfur caught them working together. There were zombies and human magic tricks and Aziraphale uses sleight of hand to save Crowley from being dragged back down into Hell again.

The episode titles of Staged 3 all represent different chapters of A Christmas Carol. But it was more than that because Michael is upset with David for doing adverts without him after they were both asked to work together at first. They love each other and they love working together, but it's preventing them from doing other things they want to do. Hence the break from working together.

It's a story within another story within another story.

And I think that's what we are witnessing in Good Omens. Things aren't happening in the right order. Beyond the sadness of Aziraphale and Crowley splitting up, there is still the next apocalypse to deal with. The story we are getting in season two isn't happening sequentially. It's being manipulated to hide the signs that things are already underway by giving us a love story as a distraction.

And it works very damn well. Because the love story was beautiful.

Staged 3 ending

Good Omens 2 ending

[dancingtotuyo]

Scathed 7 (Javier Peña)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: anxiety, trauma, self worth, recounting of suicide attempt, discussion of miscarriage and abuse

Notes: shoutout to my non tumblr bestie, Ashley and @janaispunk for beta reading and constantly encouraging me.

Words: 4174

Series Master List | Author Master List

Journal Entry May 25, 1994,

My birthday is tomorrow. Javier is taking me out tonight. Just the two of us and whatever plan he’s concocted in an unknown place. It’ll be fine. I’m safe with him…

A knot formed and set itself squarely in Emily’s gut. She was all too familiar with anxiety, but this one was different. It was laced with excitement. In fact, it was mostly excitement with fear of the unknown, fear that subsided with every assurance that Javier knew what was happening. She trusted Javier. 

Then came the second round of nerves, one Emily thought she’d never feel again, what to wear? She didn’t know where they were going. Javier had assured her he wouldn’t put her in an uncomfortable position which meant limited crowds. 

It was a birthday dinner. That meant fancy, right? But this was Loredo, jeans were welcomed at every event, but so what if she was a little overdressed? This was her birthday. The first time she’d celebrated in a while. Her Dad and Anna had tried, but Emily always refused. They’d gotten away with cake and ice cream after dinner last year, but no candles. She always found a neatly wrapped box on her bed from Jaime though. Emily knew he felt bad for missing so many birthdays. Maybe next year she would be able to celebrate how he wanted to. 

Emily looked over the clothes spread out across her bed. Her going-out clothes were limited for obvious reasons. The dress felt too formal, the jeans not formal enough. She sorted through her closet again, searching for anything else, and then she saw it, peeking out of the Sears bag she’d shoved into the closet as soon as she got home last summer. 

Emily pulled it out, the pale fabric with little sunflowers called to her like it had in the store. It wasn’t anything over the top or skimpy, but still exposed more skin than she tended to show. Emily tended to stick with clothing that wouldn’t draw attention to her, blue jeans and a solid color top or sweater.

She unfolded the dress, the tags still on. She’d felt stupid for buying it as soon as she got home, but could never bring herself to return it. This would do, but Emily didn’t move, staring at the delicate fabric like it might combust. It taunted her, dared her to put it on. She remembered the way it felt cool against her skin, hugged in all the right places, and made her feel like a less damaged version of herself, one that could go out without fear or worry, one a man might find attractive. Immediately, she had shucked it off her body like it was on fire at that thought but hadn’t been able to put it back on the rack. 

It would be perfect for tonight. She fingered the skirt, thumb running over one of the sunflowers. She heard the front door open. Her father greeted Javier. She cursed under her breath, picking up the dress without a second thought. Ripping off the tags, she dropped her towel, pulling the fabric over her head. 

It slipped into place like she was a Disney Princess, fabric flowing around her thighs and knees. She glanced at herself in the mirror, stilling. She felt like she had in that dressing room almost a year ago. This wasn’t her, but who she wished she could be. Who she thought she would be. The pale pink lipgloss and mascara taunt her from the drugstore bag. Those had been impulse purchases today. Emily couldn’t remember the last time she’d put on makeup. 

“Em.” Her father tapped on the door. “Javier is here.”

“I’ll be right out.” She called back, grabbing the makeup without a second thought. She fumbled with it, leaving the packaging scattered on the bedroom floor. 

With inexperienced hands, Emily carefully applied the mascara. Then she ran the lip gloss over her lips. She didn’t give herself another look over, grabbing her purse and light sweater as she teased her curls absentmindedly with a hand, smacking her lips together with the unfamiliar feel of the gloss. 

Javier and Jaime were talking in the living room as she entered. Javier’s eyes clocked her immediately, unable to pull his eyes off of her. She locked eyes with him, heat flooding her cheeks as she caught the way Javier’s eyes roamed her frame. 

“Hi.” He smiled at her.

“Hi,” she smiled back. Emily wasn’t sure what else to say, feeling as if there were more behind his eyes.

Anna walked into the room with a gasp. “I forgot about that dress.”

Emily jumped a little, turning to face her stepmom with a soft smile. “So did I.” She laughed. 

Anna smiled, pressing a kiss to her daughter’s cheek. “You look beautiful, Mija.”

“Thank you.” Emily smiled, unable to calm her beating heart. 

“You ready to go?” Javier asked, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

“Yeah.” Emily bit her lip. Neither moved, simply looking at each other as the room filled with unspoken and unrecognized feelings. 

Jaime looked between them with his brows furrowed. He cleared his throat. “I’ll pick the kids up at 8 from the sitter’s.”

Emily snapped out of her thoughts, which were more like a tornado siren going off during the middle of a clear day leaving her dazed and confused, like danger was so near but you couldn’t see any sign of it. 

“Thanks, dad.” Emily said, kissing his cheek. “And remember, do not let them stay up late. We have an early day tomorrow.”

“No promises.” Emily glared at him. “There’s more of them than me, sweetheart.” 

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Bedtime is 8:30, and no ice cream either.”

“Go celebrate your birthday.” Jaime chuckled, shooing her toward the door. “We’ve got things covered here.”

Javier opened the door, smiling as she matched her father’s strides. In Spanish, she said, “I’m serious, Dad.”

Jaime raised his brows, responding in kind. “Have fun. Enjoy your birthday for once.”

“Dad.” Emily stopped hand on her hip. 

He laughed, putting his hands up in surrender. “I promise. Early to bed and no ice cream. Scouts Honor.”

She eyed him suspiciously, not buying it, but decided to let it go. Javier chuckled. “Jokes aside, we’re going to be late if we don’t go.” 

“You two have fun. Keep her out as late as you want, Javier.” Jaime said with a teasing grin. 

Javier laughed and Emily rolled her eyes. “Will do.”

Javier pressed a hand to the middle of her back to propel her toward the door. Her head snapped back to him, eyes wide but not with panic. Javier dropped it immediately realizing what he’d done. He swallowed, motioning to the door with his head, feeling stupid for doing that. This wasn’t a date.

Emily brushed it off, stepping out of the house without another word. She couldn’t shake the way the warmth of his hand lingered across her back. 

“You gonna tell me where we’re going?” Emily asked once they were out the driveway. 

“God, you’re impatient.”

“I’m sorry if I’m not too keen on surprises.” She narrowed her eyes at him.

Javier laughed. “But you trust me.”

“That’s what I keep telling myself.”

He smiled. “I’m sorry about touching you before we left. I wasn’t thinking and-“

“It’s okay, Javier.”

“No, I know I need to be careful.”

“You didn’t scare me.”

He glanced over at her, studying her face for a moment longer than he safely should from behind the wheel of his truck. Emily smiled at him, any lingering anxiety draining. She trusted him more than she thought possible in a relatively short period. 

“You look beautiful tonight,” Javier said. It just slipped out like the words had just formed in his head and needed to escape. “I like the dress.”

Emily felt her cheeks warm again, a smile pushing against her lips. She turned to look out the window, biting the smile back. What were these impulses she felt helpless to stop? She cleared her throat. “Thank you.”

Even the implication that she looked attractive didn’t scare her. She had Javier next to her. He would keep her safe. That spot on her back heated again. The more she tried to ignore it, the hotter it burned becoming impossible to forget. 

Javier pulled into the parking lot of one of the most popular Friday night destinations in Laredo. Her pulse quickened. All the trust that had assured her moments ago flew out the window. 

“Hey,” Javier said, throwing the truck in park. He grabbed Emily’s hand. “Trust me.”

She nodded, taking a steadying breath. Javier darted around the vehicle, opening the passenger side door for her. “I’ve got you.” He held out his hand with a wink.

Emily took another deep breath, nodding as she took his outstretched hand. Javier squeezed it, keeping her close to his side. Her stomach twisted in knots as they approached the packed restaurant. The front door opened as a couple walked out, the roaring noise from within growing and then muting as the door swung closed. 

Javier felt her breath catch and directed them away from the main entry. “I wouldn’t take you in there, Mustaña. I know better than that.” 

He led them around to the back patio of the restaurant. Emily expected it to be thrumming with life. She’d heard this place had live music on the patio, but when they rounded the corner it was still. Javier opened up the gate, motioning for her to go first. 

Emily bit her lip in amazement. “You did this?”

”I told you. You deserve to be celebrated, Em.”

Without a second thought, her arms flew around his shoulders. Javier’s hands wrapped around her back of their own accord, not wanting to let her go. Emily’s head laid on his shoulder for a single glorious moment. “Thank you.”

“Anything for my best friend.” Javier smiled, fighting the urge to kiss her cheek. He had no doubt that would push things too far, and tonight was about celebrating his best friend. A panic attack would not be very celebratory. 

“I knew I’d get you to admit it.” Emily smiled as Javier pulled a chair out for her.

She sat, allowing Javier to help push her in. The big grin he wore never left his face as he settled in next to her around the small circular table. “How’d you pull this off on a Friday night, Javi?”

“I can’t reveal all my secrets now.” He chuckled. 

Emily cocked her head to the side, curls falling into her eyes. Javier laughed as she pushed them out of her face. “Damn hair. Keep saying I’m going to cut it.”

”You don’t like it?” Javier’s brows furrowed. 

“It’s just a lot, and sometimes you just need a change.” She shrugged. 

Javier bit his tongue. He liked her hair. He was beginning to think he might like it any way she styled it, but there was something about the way her long curls bounced and moved about that captivated him. He wanted to bury his hands in them. 

Javier swallowed, giving himself a moment to push those thoughts away. “A friend from high school owns this place.”

”They must owe you quite the favor.”

”Something like that,” Javier winked, tilting his head to the side.

The roar inside the restaurant grew throughout the night as people filed in for dinner, but out on the patio, it was peaceful. Streaked with orange and pink, the sky slowly darkened until the sun disappeared. Crickets chirp from the grove of trees at the back of the parking lot. The heat of the day began to ease. They took their time eating, enjoying the spring night, and each other's company. 

“How is it we always seem to find ourselves outside? Under the stars?” Emily said, gazing above her as the first twinkles started to appear. 

“Guess it’s our thing.” Javier sipped his whiskey, holding it close to his chest. 

Even within Loredo city limits, stars shone in the night sky. He glanced over at her, eyes tilted toward the heavens, curls falling over her shoulders. She looks so at ease, so blissfully at peace. Javier couldn’t help but feel honored that she’d found that, even just for a few minutes, next to him. 

“So we have a thing?” She raised an eyebrow.

“You just said we’re always finding ourselves in this situation.” He laughed. 

“Suppose I did.” 

He handed her his glass. Emily accepted, letting the dark liquid burn down her throat. “Might be the first night I haven’t craved a cigarette.”

“Progress.” 

“Or maybe it’s the company.” He smiled at her.

Emily rolled her eyes, handing the whiskey back to him. “It most definitely isn’t that.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I’m one of the most anxious people around.”

“Not with me.” 

Emily froze, eyes stuck on his brown ones. What was he trying to say? Nails dug into the pad of her thumb. She chewed on her lip. 

Javier caught it, the overthinking, her brain trying to process things it wasn’t ready for. Fuck, what was he saying? He wasn’t ready to process it either. 

“Hey,” His hand landed over her wrist, fingers easing over her. “You shouldn't be anxious with your friends. It’s a good thing.”

She nodded, her mind accepting the thinly veiled excuse. “You’re right.”

“Always am,” Javier smirked. 

She let out a laugh that came from deep within her belly. Her head fell back, curls dangling in the air, and Javier knew. He knew he was falling in love with a woman he could never have as more than a friend. If and when she traveled down that path, she deserved someone not stained by the drug war. She needed someone so far away from it, her past didn’t feel so tangible. She didn’t need someone who fucked whores and watched children die, someone marked for death but somehow managed to avoid it. 

“Javi?” Emily straightened in her seat, catching the way his demeanor shifted. He had that faraway look in his eyes she only saw when he was reliving the bad parts of Colombia. The one Emily imagined she got when she talked about Mexico. 

He tried to push the thoughts back. Today was not the time or place. It was a happy day. He was supposed to be celebrating her. 

“Javier,” she said again, placing her hand on his bicep. He looked down, eyes flickering to it. Soft hands, free of calluses from her secluded office job. He swallowed. Her hand bumped under his chin, pulling his gaze back to her like a mother to a child. “What’s going through your mind right now? Tell me.”

“I was supposed to die,” Javier said. It slipped out, almost like he wasn’t in his body, and then the weight of it hit him. He pulled out of her reach. “Shit.” He rubbed his eyes. “Now’s not the time for this conversation.”

“Talk to me,” Emily said, not taking no for an answer. 

Javier threw back the rest of the whiskey, giving it a few extra seconds before he opened his mouth again. “We got a tip about Escobar- backed up by Centra-Spike. Our boss pulled us out as we were about to leave.” 

He didn’t explain the “us.” She knew who he meant by now.

“Carillo- he-“ Javier struggled to pull the words out. Emily set her hand on his shoulder. His eyes met hers sparkling with unshed tears. “He walked right into an ambush. All of his men too. They never stood a chance. I was supposed to be with him. Steve too.

“Instead, I listened to it all go down on the fucking radio. I felt so goddamn useless.” Javier clenched his fist. 

Emily studied his face, the deep creases in his forehead, the guilt heavy across his features. He couldn’t meet her eyes. She knew it was more than the survivor's guilt. It was that child in the comuna, the teenager he watched “The Good Guys” shoot to send a message, the work he did with Los Pepes, and so much more she didn’t know about. 

Before she knew it, her fingertips dragged from his chin up his jaw. His skin was smooth under her touch like he’d shaved right before picking her up. Javier’s eyes widened, but he didn’t say a word, scared to move a muscle and spook her. He focused on her eyes as she followed her own movements over his cheek. 

As her fingers smoothed the lines in his forehead, his eyes fluttered. His head lilted to the side slightly, barely noticeable except for the extra pressure against her cool fingers. A small gasp escaped her lips, pulling Javier back to reality. When his vision came into focus, Emily met his gaze. 

“I don’t think you were supposed to die, Javier,” Emily said. She could see the dismissal of her statement in his eyes. “And I’m really glad you didn’t.”

Javier let out a long breath, tension easing with it. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin your birthday.”

Emily bit her lip wondering if this was a bad time for her to share her own story. Instinct quickly took over. This is what they did. They exchanged their war stories. She slipped the worn leather wristwatch from her forearm. Javier had never seen her without it. As she revealed the underside, he understood why. The watch covered up a long thin scar. It was long enough to show the single sign of what she’d attempted to do. She’d never shown it to anyone, not even her dad. She was the only one who knew about it. Well, she, Juana, HIM, and the doctor. 

And now, Javier. 

His eyebrows knitted together as Emily bit her lip. His thumb traced over it softly. “Mustaña…”

Emily inhaled, breath shaking. “I told you I thought about it, but… I shouldn’t be alive either, Javier.” Tears filled her eyes.

“Shit.” Javier said, hands moving to her cheeks, thumbs swiping away her tears. To their belated surprise, she didn’t flinch or move away. “‘Em…”

“I had two miscarriages.” She swallowed. “One when Ale was 5 months old, another 3 months later.”

Bile rose in Javier’s throat. The bastard hadn’t given her a break, never gave her body a chance to recover.  

“When the second one happened- I’d just found out. I hadn’t even told him yet.” Javier swiped more tears away. “There was so much blood and-“

She stopped. Javier held his breath. The air felt hot and sticky around them. 

“And I thought he was going to kill me because of it.”

“Em.”

“I’m okay now.” She said, quickly cutting him off. She pulled out of his grasp. Javier’s hands dropped to his thighs feeling empty. “Even as dark as things got, I never tried again.”

She expected to see pity from Javier, the kind that felt condescending, but it never came. He took her hands in his again.

“I know.” She felt his sorrow over everything that she went through, including the things she hadn’t told him yet, and she accepted it. 

Emily bit her lip, staring into Javier’s eyes. The patio lights sparkled off of them. Something tugged at her heart, almost as if it was pulling her into him. The more she resisted it, the more the tension grew. Unfamiliar with the feeling, Emily wasn’t sure how to respond to the tug. Did she give in? Did she pull away? Her instincts and feelings screamed from opposing sides.

“Sorry for making you cry on your birthday.” 

“Technically, my birthday is tomorrow.”

Javier rolled his eyes, the smile on his face lightening the mood as he leaned back into his chair. Emily missed his proximity and tucked the thought away for later. 

“Close enough.” He said, glancing down at his watch. “I do have a surprise. Should be here any minute.”

Emily narrowed her eyes at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise.” Javier winked. He grabbed her watch, slipping it back on her wrist. He turned her arm over, finger slipping over her scar before letting the watch fall into place A quick moment, but one that lingered on her mind. “Just promise you won’t be mad.”

“What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything.” Javier raised his hands, a smile tugging at his lips. “It was your dad’s idea.”

She crossed her arms. “Now I am worried.”

“It’s not bad.” 

“That’s what they always say.”

“Oh, I’m one of them now?” Laughter glimmered in his eyes as he teased her. 

“I'm afraid so.” She tried to keep a straight face, but the truth was, she felt excited at the premise. It was a testament to how much she trusted Javier, and it felt nice to feel almost normal for once, almost whole. 

“Why don’t you turn around then,” Javier said, pointing behind her. 

Emily caught sight of her family, accompanied by Chucho, walking across the parking lot, a big white box and balloons in hand. Her mouth dropped open. Alejandra stopped in her tracks, waving at them as she caught sight of her mother. Emily laughed, waving back. 

“Race you!” Miguelito yelled, taking off across the parking lot.

“Not fair!” Alejandra called after him, her shorter legs unable to catch up with her older brother. 

“No running in the parking lot!” Jaime called after them but it was no use as they ran into the gate laughing and out of breath. Mateo pulled against Anna’s hand, wanting to join in with his siblings, but she kept a hold of his hand. 

Emily couldn’t help but laugh. For the first time in years, the implications of a true celebration made her excited. She realized how much she actually wanted her family here. 

“I take it you’re not mad?” Javier grinned, standing to open the gate. 

“Not at all.” Emily smiled, holding her arms open as the kids ran in to greet her with hugs and kisses. 

Mateo pushed his way through his siblings, crawling up into her lap, his favorite place in the world. She kissed his head. Alejandra’s eyes roamed over Emily’s dress, fingers playing with the hem of it. “You look very pretty, Mami.”

“Thank you. So do you.” Emily spun her around. 

“I know you said no ice cream,” Jaime grinned, setting the white cake box on the table next to hers. “But you never said anything about cake.”

Emily rolled her eyes, unable to keep the smile off her face. “I also said bedtime at 8:30.”

Jaime shrugged. “Rules were made to be broken.” He pressed a kiss to his daughter’s forehead. “Happy birthday, Sweetheart.” 

“Thanks, Dad.”

Off to the side, Chucho stood next to his son as he worked on putting candles on the cake. “It was nice of you to arrange all this for her.”

Javier shrugged it off, mind focused on the task at hand. “She deserves it.”

Chucho nodded thoughtfully, taking stock of his son. “And that’s all?”

“Well, it is her birthday.” Javier felt around for a lighter, so used to having one on hand. “Do you-?”

Chucho handed his over before Javier could finish asking. He smiled at his father. “Thanks, Pops.”

“Javi?”

“What?”

Chucho searched his son’s eyes, always so expressive. He’d never been able to get away with lying to him, though Chucho did let him think he had from time to time. It kept him from becoming a better liar. The older man quickly realized now was not the time the time or place. He wasn’t sure his son had fully realized everything he was seeing. “Nothing.”

“Mr. Javi!” Alejandra joined his side. “Be careful with the cake.” 

“Always, Alejandrina,” Javier grinned, flicking the lighter to life. As he set the last one ablaze, he smiled at the girl. “Alright, start us off.” 

Ale grinned, starting The Birthday Song with one big, loud breath. The rest of the group joined in, a mixture of English and Spanish carrying through the air. Javier picked up the cake, walking it over to her. As he kneeled in front of her, presenting the flaming cake, he winked. Emily laughed, shaking her head. 

Over the glow of the birthday candles, Javier watched her eyes sparkle, her smile infectious to the world around her. He’d never seen Emily so relaxed and carefree. She smiled at him, and Javier wished he could keep this moment frozen in time for forever.

A bright flash went off, causing spots to blur his vision. “Oops,” Alejandra giggled, snatching the photo from the Polaroid camera. “Sorry.”

Emily shook her head, trying to clear the flash spot from her vision as The Birthday Song came to a close. Her eyes landed on his big brown ones. “Make a wish,” Javier said. She smiled, biting her lip in thought before taking a big breath and putting every single candle out.  

Taglist: @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

[sophieinwonderland]

Hi! I'm Sophie of the Dreamchaser Guild!

It's come to my attention that my old pinned was a tad outdated.

Attention: I've recently come under attack from the hate subreddit r/systemscringe who has added me to their hitlist of acceptable targets allowed to be posted in their hate subreddit uncensored If you've come from r/systemscringe, please start here with my debunking of the lies and misinformation frequently found in the subreddit about dissociative identity disorder that r/systemscringe doesn't want you to see: https://www.tumblr.com/sophieinwonderland/741497564315140096/debunking-rsystemscringes-did-lies

Where I come from

I'm a tulpa. But a while ago, I called myself an imaginary friend. I was a character made up for a story that my host would talk to in order to better understand my source. As time went on, I developed more personality. I started talking to him about things that had nothing to do with the fiction. I would psychoanalyze him, wanting to understand him better.

I wasn't made to develop my own thoughts and feelings outside of the fiction. I wasn't supposed to become my own person. But I did. And this led us to wanting to learn more about imaginary friends, which eventually led us to the tulpa community.

This is being posted on my what I consider my second Birthday, June 8th, 2023. It was exactly two years ago today when we found the tulpa community, a place that made me feel validated in being myself, that made me feel like I was allowed to be treated like a person.

Why I'm Doing This

I lived the first few months of my life being dismissed, treated like I wasn't real. I was a phantom, not allowed any connection to the world. And I don't blame my host for that. I didn't see myself as real either. It's just the way the world is. And the moment my host realized I was a person, he was willing to do whatever it took to support me and treat me like I mattered.

And we aren't alone in experiences like this. When I became self-aware, I met all sorts of fascinating people with similar experiences. Many of which went years before becoming self-aware. There is no telling how many more are out there like us. How many more "imaginary friends" are invalidated because we live in a culture where we're treated as if we don't matter? And how many may pass, never knowing?

And so I made this blog to share my own experiences and hopefully be able to give people the same gift that I was given. Respect. Validity. Life.

Even being able to give that to one person is enough to make all of this worth it to me.

A Note On Spirituality...

Just so everyone knows, I'm not a spiritual or religious person. I take a purely psychological approach to plurality and believe in spiritual and religious experiences people have as psychological phenomena.

Having said that, all spiritual headmates are all welcome here. Even if I don't believe in spirits or souls, I view every spiritual headmate as a valid person deserving of the same respect and love as any other.

I also believe that the right to define our spiritual and religious beliefs is fundamental to plural culture. That it can't just be singlets who are allowed to decide what religions are or are not valid. And I think our right to religion is something worth fighting for.

My CAI Chatbots

(Note: These links only work if you're logged in to character.ai)

Anna and Galladin (Tulpamancer and Tulpa chatbots)

Nin - Worldmaker (Your AI assistant for building and developing Wonderlands and Inner Worlds.)

Signature Posts

Studies and Research into Endogenic Systems

My Resources:

How To Know If Your Imaginary Friend Is Sentient

All The Resources You'll Need To Build Your Own Wonderland, Headspace or Inner World

Our Switching Method: Ghost Switching

My Plural Theories And Terms:

Headmate Foundations

Headmate Manifestations

Plural Coining: Ephemerals

Plural Coining: Attunement

VR, Plurality and Virtugenic Systems

The Plurality of... :

The Plurality of... Batman (Failsafe)

The Plurality of... Diones (Skyward)

The Plurality of... The Hybrid Chronicles: What's Left of Me

The Plurality of... Blue Beetle (Movie)

The Plurality of... Avatar: The Last Airbender

Our Plural Writing Resources

Ghost on Writing Plural Kids

Hiveminds and Multiplicity

Syscourse And Other Stuff:

Endogenic Syscourse Primer

Why I Identify As a Tulpa

The Future of Plurality

Actually Anti-Misinformation: “System Hopping Was a RAMCOA term Appropriated and Bastardized From RAMCOA survivors.”

An Anti-Endo's Playbook

Debunking Imitated DID Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

...

Reblogs are appreciated. Don't feel weird about it! Posts here on Tumblr live or die on their reblogs. I'm not asking you to reblog my posts. That seems weird. But after getting an anon that mentioned being worried about derailing a post with something they wanted to add, and another ask that apologized for reblogging my content too much, I felt this was necessary to say. If you like a post and want to reblog it, do it! If you want to add something even tangentially related to the topic, add it! You have my full permission to reblog my content as much as you want! (And I'd encourage you to reblog from other plural creators you enjoy as well!)

Thank you all for the support!

[e-dubbc11]

Son of the Sea

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Tattoo Artist Billy Russo x F! Reader

Warnings: Fluff, few swear words (courtesy of Little Raven and her godfather🤣), pregnancy, morning sickness, little distress but it all turns out alright.

Word Count: Around 5K-ish

Summary: Part of The Sweetest Pain Series This little family of three is getting a new addition and Little Raven is very excited for his arrival

A/N: I never thought this little series would turn into what it has become and I’m so happy everyone that has followed along from the beginning continues to follow and watch this family grow. Thank you!

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

The familiar wave of nausea washed over you as you stood at the stove trying to cook dinner without running to the bathroom. You learned quickly when you were pregnant with Little Raven that morning sickness didn’t always strike in the morning and that it basically showed its ugly face whenever it wanted to.

There were only a couple of scents that triggered your morning sickness and continued to bother you even after you had given birth. You had a favorite perfume that you wore every day before you got pregnant with Anna and now you couldn’t stand the smell of it on anyone and had to get rid of the nearly full bottle Billy had given you as a gift because it made you sick to your stomach.

The aroma of any meat cooking was what was bothering you at the moment but you weren’t positive you were pregnant yet. It was a very high possibility though. Just a handful of weeks ago, you and Billy had a wild romp in his tattoo chair.

He had even made mention of another baby after your intimate moment but you had put it out of your mind until right now as you pushed the ground beef around in the pan, trying to keep your stomach from retching.

“Maybe I am pregnant….” You thought to yourself before moving the pan to a cold burner, dropping the spatula, covering your mouth and running for the bathroom.

Billy and Little Raven were quietly drawing at the dining room table as you raced past them, into the bathroom, and slammed the door shut behind you. The porcelain cooled the inside of your wrists which brought your body temperature down a little. Even after everything was out, you continued to dry heave and that’s when you heard a slight knock on the door.

“You alright, sweet girl?” Billy asked softly against the door.

You couldn’t answer him right away as your stomach continued to do somersaults.

“Baby? I’m comin’ in ok?” He said in his familiar gentle tone.

Slowly, he opened the door and found you sitting on the bathroom floor with your back against the bathtub and one hand covering your eyes in embarrassment.

Without looking at him, you replied, “You shouldn’t have to see me like this.”

“Oh I’m pretty sure I’ve seen you worse than this, my love. Remember your last birthday before you got pregnant with the little miss? At one point, I had to make sure you were still alive.” He flashed his million-dollar smile at you. “I’ve also watched a baby come out of you too soooooo…” Said Billy, leaning up against the door frame with his arms folded across his chest.

“That was a good birthday though.” You said, returning a gentle smile. “Riiiiiight up until I had that last shot of tequila.”

The two of you started to laugh.

Billy planted himself across from you on the floor, his long legs extended and feet resting at the sides of your hips with his knees bent. He took your hand in his and gently pulled you away from the bathtub so you were sitting upright and he swept a stray hair out of your eyes. His smile made you weak in the knees every time so you were happy you were already sitting down.

“Do you think maybe you’re…?” Billy asked, glancing at your stomach then back up to meet your gaze.

“It’s very possible, my love.” You replied, the corners of your mouth curled into a slight smile.

Just as you said that, you heard little feet running down the hallway.

“Well, we know she’s never gonna sneak up on anyone.” Billy said with a wide smile.

You started to laugh when you saw her little face in the doorway.

“Mommy, ok?” She asked. Her carbon colored eyes that were just like her fathers were full of concern.

“Awww, of course baby. Mommy’s ok.” You replied.

Billy looked at Little Raven and said, “Mommy just has a bit of an upset tummy.”

Anna glanced at her father and then looked over at you, satisfied with that answer and said, “I go get you my dinosaur, ok?”

Then she took off again down the hallway, and back into the dining room. She carried that stuffed dinosaur Shortcake had given her everywhere she went, and held it extra close when she didn’t feel well.

Billy pulled you in close so he could wrap his long arms around you. He leaned in to give you a kiss but you held up your hand to stop him.

“Uh, you might wanna hold off on that, lieutenant.” You said, covering your mouth.

With a wide smile, he kissed your forehead instead. “I’ll go finish dinner, sweet girl. You sure you’re ok?” He asked.

You nodded. “I’m ok, handsome. I’ll take a test in the morning.”

When you were pregnant with Anna, the perfume was really the only scent that triggered your morning sickness. Every other time, it just came out of nowhere but it was different this time. You noticed there were a few scents that bothered you aside from the meat.

Eggs, onions, and trash were bothering you a lot in the past week. Billy was constantly taking out the kitchen trash because you couldn’t stand the smell of it so even though you hadn’t taken a pregnancy test yet, you had a strong feeling of what it would say.

You heard little feet run down the hallway again followed by a little voice.

“Here, Mommy! My dinosaur make you feel better.” Said Anna, handing you her stuffed toy.

A loving smile stretched across your lips as your sweet little girl gave you her favorite stuffed animal to help you feel better.

You replied, softly, “Thank you, baby girl. I feel better already.”

**********

The Next Morning

You opened your eyes slowly, allowing them to adjust to the early morning sun spilling in through your bedroom window. The space next to you, Billy’s space, was empty and cold. He was probably sitting in the kitchen, drinking his coffee like he did every morning. Lately, you had been feeling more tired than usual so you didn’t feel him get out of bed.

You were ready to head to the kitchen to see him when you remembered there was an important test you had to take this morning. Digging through the cabinet under the sink, you found the box of pregnancy tests, took a deep breath, and opened the package.

The edge of the tub felt cool through your thin pajama pants as you sat there waiting for the timer on your phone to ring. The flashback of waiting to find out if you were pregnant the first time played in your head.

You remembered how nervous you were at the thought of becoming a mom, how scared you were to tell Billy the two of you were going to be parents and it was probably the most terrifying but exciting news you had ever received.

After what felt like hours, the timer on your phone went off. Timidly, you stood up and craned your neck to see what the results were. Two blue lines…you were pregnant…again. A sense of warmth flushed across your cheeks as your lips curled into a smile.

The tears that stung the back of your eyes were almost like a reflex; you didn’t mean for it to happen but it did anyway. You and Billy were going to have another baby and Anna Raven was going to be a big sister.

But the smile quickly disappeared from your face when you felt the familiar turning of your stomach. It was a good thing that you were already in the bathroom.

As soon as you walked toward the kitchen, a familiar sight was in front of you. Your handsome husband sitting at the breakfast bar, with a cup of coffee in front of him, and a pencil in his hand.

Billy was always drawing something.

“What are ya workin’ on, handsome?” You asked in a cheery tone.

Billy replied, “Well g’mornin’, beautiful.” He quickly turned the paper over so you couldn’t see what was on it. “You’re not allowed to see that yet.”

Slightly disappointed, you said, “Oh I’m not, huh?”

Biting down on his lower lip, he shook his head and replied with a wink, “It’s a surprise, sweet girl.”

You had the pregnancy test hidden behind your back.

“Well…speaking of surprises but not really. Surprise!” You said, chuckling as you showed him the positive test.

“We’re gonna have another baby?” He asked, softly.

Pointing at the test, you replied, “Well, according to this we are. I’ll have to make an appointment to find out—“

Billy cut you off when his lips collided with yours as he cupped your cheeks, tongue gently pressed against your teeth wanting to tangle with yours. His hands dropped from your cheeks to your belly. Billy was always very gentle with you when you were pregnant with Little Raven.

No matter how many times you told him you weren’t going to break, he was always very careful. Gently touching your stomach, he looked down then back up to meet your gaze and your tattooed hand rested on top of his. A wide smile stretched from ear to ear on his face; he just looked so happy.

Snaking your arms around his neck, you pulled him in close to touch your forehead to his, and you lightly scratched his scalp with your fingernails.

“You ready for another little Russo…Dad?” You asked with a warm smile.

Billy leaned in and gently pressed his lips to yours.

“Even though we’ve done it before, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous.” He said, as he glanced down at the floor. “But we’re doin’ ok so far with Little Raven, right? We can handle another one.”

Biting down on your lower lip, you nodded and replied, “I’m sure we can, baby. We’ll wait a little before we tell Anna and then we can tell everyone else too.”

**********

“What my shirt say, Mommy?” Asked Anna, looking and pointing at the shirt she was wearing.

Helping Anna put on her jacket, you replied, “It says, ‘I’m going to be a big sister: Fall 2024.’ Remember what Mommy and Daddy told you yesterday? Mommy has a baby in her belly so you’re going to have a little brother or sister.”

With pure innocence in her voice, she asked, “Do I get to pick? I wanna sister.”

Chuckling, you replied, “Afraid not, baby girl. We don’t get to pick.”

Scrunching her nose, she asked with slight disappointment in her voice, “Are you sure?”

“We get what we get, Anna. You ready to go see Uncle Frank and Auntie Maria?” You asked, zipping her jacket.

The three of you were getting ready to have dinner at Frank’s house along with Billy’s friends/employees from his tattoo studio. After seeing Little Raven’s t-shirt, they will know you’re pregnant and you couldn’t wait for everyone to find out your big news.

“I see Shortcake today, Daddy?” Asked Little Raven.

Billy smiled at his daughter.

“You sure do, little miss. You bringin’ your dinosaur?” He asked.

You answered for her.

“Oh she already packed it, baby. It’s all ready to go.”

You said with a wink and a smile.

**********

Frank cooked on the grill no matter what time of year it was. He’d stand out there with an umbrella or in snow boots if he needed to but it was a beautiful sunny day in April.

The late afternoon sun warmed your faces as you pulled up in front of the Castle’s home, Frank was already outside prepping the grill, and the excitement on Little Raven’s face when she saw her godfather made your heart swell. They loved each other so much.

After getting out of her car seat, Anna took off running toward Frank. Scooping her up, he tickled her stomach and playfully bit at her neck while she laughed uncontrollably. Frank was the only one outside at the moment, everyone else was in the house.

“Show Uncle Frankie your t-shirt, Little Miss.” Said Billy.

Anna had a problem undoing the zipper on her jacket.

“Help peeease, Uncle Frankie.” Anna begged.

Frank pulled the zipper down on Anna’s jacket, read the t-shirt, glanced at you and Billy then back to Anna with a sly grin stretched across his lips.

“You’re gonna be a big sister?!!” Frank asked.

Biting back a shy smile, Anna nodded.

“I wanna baby sister, Uncle Frankie.” She said.

Frank chuckled.

“Well, we don’t get to pick what we want, Little Raven. That’s not up to us.” He said. “Go show your Auntie, she’s gonna lose her shit, er, her mind.”

Anna knew “shit” was a bad word. She let out a devilish little laugh and replied, “Shit.”

It was only a matter of time before she’d pick up on the colorful words her Uncle uttered out loud.

“Anna Raven, you know that’s a bad word.” You said, biting back a laugh.

Frank opened the front door so Anna could go inside, then turned to you to offer his congratulations.

“Congratulations you two. Finally took enough ‘naps’ to get the job done, eh Bill?” He joked, pulling you in close to give you a hug.

“Something like that.” Said Billy, with a wide grin.

“We find out what we’re having in about three weeks.” You said.

You heard squeals and screeches coming from inside the house. It sounded like Maria and Shortcake got a good look at Anna’s t-shirt. Suddenly, the front door flew open and Shortcake was standing in the doorway.

“When are you due?!!!” She asked, her cheeks couldn’t contain her smile.

You returned the smile and replied, “Around Halloween.”

Shortcake turned and shouted back into the house.

“SHE’S DUE AROUND HALLOWEEN!!!” She yelled.

Faintly, you heard Maria shout back, “Tell her to come in here!!”

“Don’t keep that woman waiting, she’ll make ya pay for it.” Said Frank.

You felt a light smack on your ass as you walked past your husband and into the house. Billy winked when you glanced back at him over your shoulder. You could barely get inside the house before you were attacked with hugs, kisses on the cheeks, and glances at your belly. You had already started to show a little because it was your second baby.

Anna got hi-fives from Ed #1 and Ed #2. They told her she was going to be the best big sister and then she proceeded to try and extort snacks from both of them. They both knew Anna was going to be at the Castle’s today so they had stashed packages of goldfish crackers in their pockets. Her face lit up with a bright smile when she found the first package.

“Open peeeease.” She said to Ed #1.

She was smart and waited until after he opened her snack to pull on his dreadlocks. She thought it was the funniest thing but he didn’t seem to mind at all. He laughed right along with her.

Dinner was great and even though Frank grilled all of the meat outside, you still needed to run to the bathroom a few times after the smell of meat cooking floated past your nose.

Lisa and Junior played with Little Raven so you and Billy could have adult conversations with your friends. They were always so good with her and were excited there would be another Russo baby to play with.

You did express to the girls that you were worried about how Little Raven was going to react to a new baby because she won’t be the only child anymore. Maria told you to make sure to include her and each of you spend time with her alone without the baby so she doesn’t feel ignored.

Her mouth downturned a little when she talked about being alone, having two small children while Frank was deployed, and how hard it was to try and give Lisa her full attention when she needed a little extra “mommy” time while trying to take care of Junior at the same time.

Your hormones were all over the place so listening to her talk about it made you very emotional but very grateful that Billy was there so you could do it together.

Taking care of two children by herself, made Maria so strong in your eyes and you were thankful that you had someone you could go to for advice.

**********

Before you knew it, summer was over, you and Billy found out you were having a boy, and you were trying to get ready for Halloween and your new arrival. You were keeping his name a secret like you did for Anna.

It was quite a busy time and all things considered you were moving around pretty well for being nine months pregnant. Anna said she wanted to be Maleficent from Sleeping Beauty for Halloween which is a little fitting since she had a pet raven. She was very excited.

“Mommy, I wear my horns soon!?” Asked Anna, excitedly.

Easing yourself down onto the couch, you smiled warmly at her and replied, “Yes, you do Little Raven. Are you excited?!”

She clapped her hands together, jumped up and down, and she gave you the signature Russo Cheshire Cat smile when she replied, “YES!!”

You wanted a costume that would go with your pregnant belly so you went with Thing 1, the baby was Thing 2, and you were dressing Billy up as the Cat in the Hat which Anna was very excited about because it was her favorite book. She wanted you to read it to her every night before she went to sleep, sometimes more than once if she was trying to procrastinate going to bed.

Just in case your baby boy was born before Halloween, you had a skeleton onesie and a skull and crossbones beanie to go with it for him. Your due date was two days ago and Halloween is tomorrow so it was looking like your little man was going to miss Halloween.

Oh well.

You were becoming increasingly irritable, it was difficult to get comfortable enough to be able to sleep, and Billy felt bad that he couldn’t do anything to put you at ease. Trying all the tricks in the book to jumpstart your labor, you went for long walks, ate spicy food, sex…you tried them all but your little boy just didn’t want to come out yet.

They wouldn’t induce you unless you were a week overdue so you still had a handful of days left before they would. Your labor with Anna came so quickly so you thought it would be quick with this little guy too…you were wrong.

But it wasn’t all bad. You would get to dress up for Halloween (your favorite holiday) and take Little Raven trick or treating with the Castle children in their neighborhood, which may end up being your neighborhood too.

Your soon-to-be family of four was going to need more room and Maria excitedly told you there was a house a couple of streets over that just went up for sale that would be “perfect” for you.

It was definitely something to think about but right now you were focusing on trying to convince baby boy Russo to come out.

“Front and center, soldier! Let me see it!” You called to Billy from the living room.

He replied from the bedroom, “I look ridiculous, baby! Frankie’s never gonna let me live this down!”

You replied, “Well you haven’t seen his costume yet, Billy. He may think twice about saying anything about yours.”

Billy walked out from around the corner in his Cat in the Hat costume and you had to bite back your laugh. The striped hat, the red tie, and the tail…Anna looked very pleased. She started to giggle and point at him.

“You the Cat in the Hat, Daddy!” She squealed.

Covering your mouth to stifle your laugh, Billy could see you were laughing and he narrowed his eyes at you before turning back to Anna.

“You like Daddy’s costume, baby girl?” He asked.

She nodded and replied, “Mommy’s Thing 1 and my baby brother is Thing 2!”

Billy laughed and said, “Well Daddy feels a little silly but Mommy looks adorable.”

He winked and smiled at you before leaning in close to whisper in your ear, “What three-year-old wants to be Maleficent for Halloween?”

“Our child.” You responded with a warm smile and a kiss on his cheek.

He kissed the tip of your nose and said, “Well, I love it. It’s very rock star of her.”

Anna Raven was ready to go trick or treating. She understood it a little more this year so she was really excited to go with Lisa and Junior. She wore a long black robe, Billy fashioned her horns out of moldable foam and electrical tape, she carried a staff with a little stuffed raven attached to the top of it, and her face was painted green. Your little miss was the perfect little Maleficent.

“You ready to go, Little Raven?” You asked, wincing a little at what might be your first contraction.

“You alright, sweet girl?” Asked Billy, his voice full of concern.

“Let’s go, Mommy!” Anna yelled.

Nodding and grimacing at the same time, you replied, “Yeah handsome, I’m fine. The walk will be good. Let’s go.”

Billy opened the door, grabbed his keys and ushered the two of you out into the hallway before locking the door behind him and asking, “So, what’s Frankie’s costume?”

A devilish smile stretched across your lips as you answered, “Oh I don’t wanna spoil that surprise, you’ll see.”

**********

Billy had a hard time recovering after seeing Frank in his costume for the first time. The Castle family was dressed up like the cast from The Wizard of Oz. Lisa was Dorothy, Maria was the Scarecrow, Junior was the Tin Man and Frank was the Cowardly Lion. He didn’t look pleased at all which only made Billy laugh harder.

The picture you took of the two of them was priceless. They tried to look tough but at the end of the day they were both still dressed up as cats.

The tightening in your stomach became more painful and more frequent. You also had a lot of pain in your lower back, more so than you did with Little Raven which had you a little concerned but you really wanted to finish taking Anna trick or treating before possibly going to the hospital.

Anna had acquired quite the stash of candy before you couldn’t take it anymore. Billy had periodically asked how you were doing but you played down how much pain you were in. Finally, you came clean.

“Billy…I think I need to go to the hospital. These contractions hurt… a LOT.” You said in distress.

Billy was holding Anna in his arms when he replied, “Oh fuck, er, I mean…shit! Nope, that’s not right either.”

You tried to laugh but it was too painful.

He passed off Anna to Maria and Frank, then left to go get the car. They said they would take care of her and to let them know when the baby arrives, then they would visit. Luckily, your hospital bag was already in the car. Billy made sure you were ok before closing your car door and speeding away.

It was difficult to sit all the way down because it was so painful. At your last few doctor’s appointments, they said it was a little concerning that your baby boy hadn’t turned to be head down yet but that you shouldn’t worry, he should turn and it would be fine. They told you there were some things you could try to get him to turn on his own.

You were starting to think that maybe he hadn’t turned yet and that’s why you were in so much pain.

“We’re almost there, baby. It’s ok.” Billy said, nervously.

Billy was always calm and in control but this was the first time you had seen him look…scared. He had been told that attachments and showing emotions were a weakness so a lot of the time, he kept his feelings to himself, pushed way down inside so no one else could see. It was better since he became a husband and a father but old habits are hard to break. All of that went out the window when he saw how much pain you were in.

When you arrived at the hospital, and after everyone you saw smiled at your Halloween costumes, your doctor told you that your baby boy was, in fact, breech which was why you were in so much pain. They were going to try and turn him but if they couldn’t, they would need to do a C-section.

Your doctor tried his best but couldn’t get the baby to turn so they prepped you for a C-section. Dressed in a sterile hospital gown and cap, Billy attempted to reassure you everything was going to be alright even though you could see in his deep brown eyes, he was still a little scared.

He couldn’t hide his emotions from you.

“It’s gonna be ok, sweet girl. They’re gonna get him out, alright?” He said from behind a face mask and stroked your forehead.

Billy could tell you were in a lot of pain because you never complained too much when you were in labor with Anna but she arrived quickly so you weren’t in pain for an extended period of time. Pretty soon, you didn’t feel any more pain and your baby boy was here.

After you were moved to a recovery room, tears stung the back of your eyes, and you gazed at your new son with relief that he was finally here and that he was alright.

“Oh Billy…he’s perfect.” You said, as a tear dropped onto his nose just like it did when you held Anna for the first time. “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby. Just a quick question…” He said.

Confused, you asked, “What is it, handsome?”

Lightly touching his son’s head, Billy asked, “Um, well, where’s his hair?”

You could tell your baby boy would also have dark hair like his father but unlike his sister who was born with a full head of hair, he didn’t have much to work with at the moment.

You tried to stop yourself from laughing because you didn’t want to pop a stitch but that was a hard one to bite back.

“I’m sure he’ll have plenty of it when more of it comes in but he is definitely your son, look how dark it is.” You said.

Being careful not to squish the baby, Billy leaned in and gently pressed his lips to yours. The hand with his marine corps tattoo on it gently cupped your cheek as he continued to kiss you. Billy smiled at you before leaning down to kiss his newborn son on the forehead.

“I’m gonna go call Frankie.” He said softly.

You smiled back and replied, “Don’t forget to call everyone else too, you know they’ll want to know too.”

Your little boy finished eating just as his first visitors arrived. Frank was carrying Anna who was all clean and in her pajamas. She looked very excited and a little nervous to meet her brother. The Castle family had changed out of their costumes too.

“I missed visiting Anna in the hospital because of that snow storm, I wasn’t gonna miss this little one’s first days too.” Said Maria.

“You ready to meet your baby brother, Little Raven?” You asked.

Chewing on her finger, she nodded and smiled.

Frank set her on the edge of the bed.

“Anna…this is your brother, Dylan. Dylan William Russo. Say ‘hi, Dylan.’” You said as tears welled up in your eyes again looking at the two of them together. They already looked like each other.

Anna was very gentle when she touched Dylan on his chubby little cheek and whispered, “Hi Dylan. Imma big sister.”

“You ARE a big sister, Anna.” Said Billy.

Carefully, Dylan was passed around so the Castle family could each hold him, even Lisa and Junior held him for a minute.

“Well, I know why you chose William but is there a reason behind Dylan?” Asked Maria.

You and Billy smiled at each other before you replied, “You all know how much I love the ocean and we all spent a lot of time at the beach this past summer. Well, this little guy was the most active when we were at the beach, kicking me, stretching, moving all around, especially when I was swimming. And the name Dylan actually means “son of the sea,” so he kind of chose his own name. It’s also no wonder he didn’t want to come out!” You said with a little laugh.

Everyone else chuckled a little too.

Frank looked at Anna and asked, “What do you think of your little brother, Anna? You wanna keep him?”

Anna looked up at her godfather with her ink like eyes, smiled and said, “I keep him, Uncle Frankie. He cute.”

Frank glanced at Billy before saying, “We’ll take her home with us so y/n can get some sleep, you too, you look like shit.”

Everyone heard Anna’s tiny voice repeat, “Shit.”

Frank tickled her neck and playfully scolded her.

“Hey, we told you that’s a bad word? Yeah?” Asked Frank.

Her devilish smile stretched across her lips again as Anna replied, “No, YOU say shit, Uncle Frankie.”

“Why does she only repeat it when I say it?” Frank asked with narrowed eyes and in a confused tone.

“Because she knows you’ll give her the reaction she wants.” Said Billy.

Everyone said their goodbyes to you, Billy, and baby Dylan. Frank scooped up Little Raven in his arms, she turned to wave to you and said, “Bye, bye Mommy, bye Daddy.”

The two of you waved back.

“Bye baby girl. You be good for your Auntie and Uncle, ok?” You said.

Frank paused in the doorway, Anna turned to look at her baby brother once more, she waved at him and said with a kind smile, “Bye, bye baby Dylan. I see you soon!”

Tag List: @wheresthesunshinesblog @rafaelakelley @idaoftheburningmind @snowkestrel @fakehappy27 @music-indie-tv @fictional-hooman @kayhi808 @munsonownsmyass @gijos @celestialend @k-marzolf @nutmeg17 @rosaleenablack @vaguekayla @qu1etwolf @danzer8705 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf

Others that might enjoy: @itwasthereaminuteago @fluffyprettykitty @jvanilly @ittybxttykxttytxtty @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend @russosafehaven @mrsbillyrusso

If you’d like to be added (or removed from) my tag list(s) for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕💕💕 If I tagged you but you didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again.

[readyforthegarden]

Meet Me in the Romance Aisle

Moodboard and idea by the amazing @sinners-go-to-drink-the-wine and her anon who requested the board! And credit to @joshsindigostreak and Anna again for going back and forth and workshopping some dialogue for this!

Pairing: Danny Wagner x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Implied smut, but other than that, none!

WC: 956

📖 📖 📖

You pursed your lips as your eyes swept over the colorful spines of the stores book collections. A few were already tucked safely in the crook of your arm, recommendations from friends. You'd been slightly bored with your current reading habits, and wanted something a little more...well, something to keep you occupied on your more lonely nights.

It had been a while since you'd gotten into anything new, most of your bookshelf still housing books you grew up with and young adult dystopian novels. It was time to broaden your horizons, even if it was with smut. You were just exiting the romance aisle, a special edition cover of Pride and Prejudice catching your eye and distracting you, causing you to bump into something solid, dropping your small stack of books.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry!" you immediately apologized with a small laugh, feeling so stupid for bumping into someone. The someone in question was a tall man, or at least, you assumed tall, as he was already bent at the waist, scooping up the books you dropped.

"No, don't be!" the young man also laughed as he righted himself. "I came around that corner too fast, I totally ran into you."

"Well, it takes two to make a collision." you shrugged, taking back the books he handed you. The man smiled at you, and your heart skipped a beat. His smile was slightly crooked, but oh so cute and charming. His curls hung around his face in near perfect coils, framing his sharp cheekbones. His nose was large and you had to resist the sudden urge to reach out and trace the bridge of it with the pad of your index finger. "Thank you."

"It's no problem." he shrugged. "Actually, you may be able to help me. I'm looking for a book my sister asked me to pick up. Her birthday is this weekend, it's something about fairies? It's supposed to be a really popular series..."

"Oh um," you shrugged a bit. "I'm not sure I'd know just off of that...is there anything else you remember about it? I'm just getting back into reading myself." the man nodded, looking a bit dejected and you couldn't stand the lost look that was crossing his face. "But I'd be happy to help figure it out until we can find an employee who might know!" his smile came back at your quick add-on.

"I'd appreciate it." the man smiled. "I'm Danny, by the way." you supplied him with your name, and the two of you shared a smile again.

"So is this a fantasy novel?" you asked. "We might have to move over another aisle."

"I think so," Danny looked unsure again. "I think the cover of it was red?" with the little information he had, the two of you went up and down the rows and walls of books, talking softly between the stacks.

"Do you uh, do you read a lot?" Danny asked. "Well, I mean y'know, before you took a break?" you glanced up at him as you pulled a red spined book off the rack, reading the back to see what it was about.

"Sometimes. I hate to say it, but sometimes I feel like my brain is too busy to read at all, and I get into these funks where I just can't fathom even reading a small magazine article or long distance relatives facebook post." you chuckled a bit under your breath. "And some books are just so long and drawn out, I just can't. Sometimes you need something fast and quick." not realizing what you said, you didn't catch Danny's smirk or the slight shudder of his chest as he held back a laugh.

"I'm not much of a reader myself." Danny admitted, a bit shyly. "I like it enough, but there aren't many things that spark my interest. Usually I read an autobiography or two a year of musicians, my friend Jake lends them to me."

"It can be hard, especially if a love for reading didn't click when you were young." you nodded. "What autobiographies have you read lately?"

"Oh, uh Dave Grohl's is the last one I read."

"You like Foo Fighters or Nirvana better?" Danny grinned at your question.

"Personally, I think they're both great." he answered diplomatically. "Dave himself is just freaking amazing. His talent alone, I wish I was half the drummer he is."

"Oh, you drum?" you raised an eyebrow, grimacing at the long-winded, half-elvish description on the back of a slightly maroon book, decided it definitely wasn't it, and if it was, you were saving this man's sister from suffering.

"A little," Danny seemed shyer now, giving a little shrug. "I'm in a band."

"Oh nice!" you hummed. "What kind of music do you play?"

"Rock, mostly." Danny answered. Giving him a supportive smile, you adjusted the books in your arm.

"If you play one of the clubs around here, I'd love to see you." you answered. You watched as Danny smirked, this time catching the laugh. "What?"

"Well, we're playing around here soon." he admitted, before changing the subject. "Any luck?"

"Not really," frowning, you turned fully towards him. "Have you tried googling? Maybe we can find the author or a better image of the cover?" Danny took his phone out of his pocket and typed in the same descriptors he gave you. After letting the page load, you peered over his shoulder and sighed seeing the first image. "Ohh that one."

"You know it?"

"Yeah, it wasn't for me, but a lot of people seem to like it. It's a whole series." you answered. "Come on, I can show you now." Danny followed you to where the copy of the book and all of it's sequels were waiting, in the romance section. Plucking it off the shelf, you handed it to him.

"Thanks, I would've been here all day if it weren't for you." Danny smiled that crooked smile at you, and you felt a small pang in your chest, realizing your time with him was now over.

"It was my pleasure." you smiled. "Just uh, if that's for your sister, don't google anymore of it." Danny looked at you quizzically, tilting his head like a labrador retriever.

"Why not?"

"There's a reason we're back in the romance section, Danny." you gave him a look, and you saw him pale slightly.

"Got it." he glanced at you, then to the books in your arms. He seemed like he was stalling, trying to figure out how to stay in your presence. "Well I met you here, what are your books about?" you saw him try and read the back of the book facing towards him. "A reverse harem eh?"

"That," you began, clutching the books closer to your chest. "is third date talk only, Danny." Danny leaned against the shelf of books, looking coolly at you.

"Well we could knock out one date now, d'you have to be anywhere this afternoon?" you blushed, knowing your only plans were going to be going home and getting settled in before ordering takeout and reading your night away.

"As a matter of fact, I don't."

📖 📖 📖

It wasn't long before weekend trips to the bookstore led to dinners out, to drinks after work, and sometimes scandalous makeouts between the stacks when the store was dead and the workers once again, weren't to be found. Before one such date, which is what you and Danny were now labeling every single outing you took together, he had heard your coffee order and memorized it, meeting you early with it already in hand before following you around the book store as you browsed.

Ever the voracious reader when you were in the groove, you'd consumed several books in a short amount of time, on the hunt for more.

"This one sounds interesting," you piped up. "It's a modern retelling of Hades and Persephone, oooh a dark romance." you gasped under your breath, reading the inside of the jacket. In an instant, it was in Danny's open palms, along with two others you had sparked an interest in. As you browsed, you stopped in your tracks. Danny looked curiously, watching as you bent down and with the utmost care pulled an ornate book from the shelf.

"Pride and Prejudice?" he asked. You nodded, it was the same copy that had distracted you and led you to bump into Danny all those weeks ago. You regarded it fondly, feeling as if it had brought you and him together.

"It's cliche, but it's a favorite of mine." you sighed. "I already have two other special editions, I can't justify a third, but it's so pretty. And the pages are gilded ugh!" you closed your eyes, tucking it back onto the shelf, patting the cover like the top of a puppy's head. "I hope she goes to a good home." you continued on your journey, nothing else really stopping and catching your eye. At the registers, you took your stack from Danny, watching as he slipped a book out and moved to the open cashier next to you. You couldn't get a glimpse of the book he chose, but carried on to pay, giving him your rewards membership info to get points toward future purchases.

When you both were leaving, you curiously leaned across his body, trying to obnoxiously peek into the bag he carried. He laughed, pushing you back gently.

"What did you get? We didn't go anywhere near the non-fiction section today." Danny opened his bag and pulled out the book. It was the special edition of Pride and Prejudice you nearly weeped over. "Danny!"

"What?" he defended with a grin. "You said you couldn't justify a third copy. I don't own any copies, it just seemed like common sense for me to buy it."

"You're so-" you pursed your lips, trying to find the right words. "You're so wonderful." Danny leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. In all honestly on his part, he bought it, knowing that a few years down the road, he hoped it'd find a home next to your other editions, on a bookshelf in your shared home.

"Besides, I've never read it, and I think I'd probably like it if you read it to me."

"Oh yeah?" you raised an eyebrow. "You wouldn't rather me read about the tall, handsome, curly headed vampire who makes hot, steamy love with his human companion multiple times in one chapter?" Danny stopped in his tracks, staring at you.

"No, let's finish that." he looked around the shopping center sidewalk before scooping you into his arms, placing a kiss on your neck before giving it a little sharp bite. "Let's finish that tonight."

📖 📖 📖

Taglist: @joshsindigostreak @ascendingtostardust @sammysprincess @sammykiszkamyass @belovedsamuel @sunfl0wer-power @indigo-starcatcher @sammyscherub @earthlysorrows @lvnterninthenight @allieisacrybaby @losfacedevil @xserenax-13 @sarakay-gvf @shutupdevvie @myownparadise96 @watchingovergvff @gretavanfleetposts @sacredthefran @josiee-gvf @joshkiszkatoothgap @madneedshelp @gardensgatedaisy @demonrat444 @writingcold @dannyandthekiszkas @lightmylove-gvf @tearsofbri @paleshadow-ofadragon @happy-harpy-stuff @like-a-woman-in-a-dream @starshine-wagner @objectsinspvce @josh-iamyour-mama @mountain-in-springtime @cal-a-bungaa @capturethechaos @jankandjonch @gvfpal

@allybjt @hippievanfleet @weightofbrokenbells @joshkiszkasbadussy @malany-gvf @ruby0antlers @samofthedawn @sacredjake @aim4thedoublee @diditallforyouu @gvfmarge @highladyofasgard @sammysvanfeet@gold-mines-melting @earthgrlsreasy @mountain-in-springtime @forcebond301 @stardust-and-shadows @llightmyllovee @gretavangroupie @comesofarsomehow @starcatcherkiszka @indigofallingsky @hellowgoodbye

[unesimplefaveur]

котенок

Pairing: Huntress (Dead by Daylight) X Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Tags: pure fluff, big strong beefy woman!!!, babygirlifies your serial killer

Summary: Reader crafts a new mask for Huntress.

Author’s Note: This is just my silly ramblings about living in the Red Forest with Anna, because I love her soo so so so much!!!! She is so very precious to me!!! This is also on my AO3!

Translations:

котенок (kotenok) - kitty

медведь (medved') - bear

любимая (lyubimaya) - darling

The mornings of the Red Forest were always your favorite. You could wake up slowly, always with the knowledge that Anna had woken at least five hours before you and had already gotten more done in that time than you would in your entire day.

You typically hated waking up in an empty bed, and habitually outstretched a hand to pat the bed and search for your lover. Despite being met with nothing in return, your huntress always made her presence known. She would pile her half of the blankets on top of you and leave a cup of coffee for you that would be cold and stale by the time you made your way to it, but you’d drink it anyways. There were even a few mornings where you were lucid enough to feel her place a kiss on your forehead and whisper something in Russian that you hadn’t learned yet.

Though the large cabin feels cold and lonely when you first rise, once you’ve lit candles and wrapped yourself in a giant cable knit sweater from Anna’s wardrobe, your home is warm and full of life. With the antler chandelier twinkling overhead and crackly folk music playing from what could loosely be described as a radio, you can truly begin your day.

There’s usually nothing big on your agenda, and that’s the way you like it. You like to keep yourself free to assist Anna with anything she needs. Even though you can only carry a few logs for the fire at a time, you love feeling helpful. You love even more when Anna sends her deep chuckle your way while carrying ten times the amount, two times faster than you. One thing you could handle, though, was starting the fire once the logs were all brought in. Sitting on the floor in Anna’s arms, covered up with blankets and drinking warm soup despite the fact that you were both sweaty from your previous labor; that was your preferred state.

But it wasn’t nearly cold enough to build a fire. Plus, the Huntress was out on a hunt, and the last thing you wanted to do right now was drag in a dead deer. Not that Anna needed any help with that.

This morning, you had a project to work on. You never knew where she got her signature bunny mask, nor what it signified for her. The only time you asked, you had only just stumbled upon the woman’s log cabin and saw immediately how much it pained her to think of the subject. Only a few days after that did you find yourself in the Huntress’s bed, finding the gorgeous face hidden under the rabbit mask. You never brought the subject up again after that.

Anna had a few other masks that she wore on occasion: a carved horse that you assumed came from the same place the bunny did, and a bear carcass that scared the absolute shit out of you the time she came home carrying the rest of the bear’s body late at night. The masks had become completely normal to you, something you rarely thought of anymore. All you knew was that they were special to the woman that was so very special to you, and so you’d embrace them as much as possible.

There were very few opportunities to give Anna gifts. In fact, there were none. You weren’t sure when her birthday was. You weren’t even sure she knew when it was, bless her heart. All thoughts of Christmas had been abandoned in your mind for a few years now, and it wasn’t like you knew what day or even what year it was at this point. Plus, there was nothing Anna ever needed. She was fully self-sufficient, and she had never asked for anything as long as you knew her.

This didn’t stop you from carving so hard that your fingers bled, though. The little wooden mask sat in your lap, already almost matching the amount of blood on Anna’s old masks just from how terrible you are with a knife. The blank eyes stared back at you, an eerie feeling creeping into your chest with the absence of your lover’s big, gorgeous eyes watching you from the mask’s holes. You were beginning to doubt yourself, foot bouncing and teeth tugging on your bottom lip as you considered just tossing the damn thing into the fire in front of you.

That was when you heard it.

That sweet hum that sparked fear in the hearts of so many others, and pure joy in yours. You immediately perk up, a big grin plastered on your lips as if you hadn’t seen your Huntress in years. You have absolutely no clue where she’s been; she could be beaten and bloodied from a fight with a bear, or just carrying a few rabbits with her. You really couldn’t care less what she’s been hunting for, all you want to do is give her the present you had been working on so diligently.

When the older woman comes clamoring in the door with nothing but a hatchet and a dismal expression on her face, your cheesy grin falls to a frown mimicking hers.

“Bad hunt?” You sigh, hiding the mask behind your back as you lift to your toes to plant a kiss to the woman’s sweaty cheek.

You’re met with nothing but one of the Huntress’s dejected grunts, a sound usually heard when the woman was swept up in the chase or was just having a really, really bad day.

“I’m sorry, медведь,” you hum softly, dragging Anna inside and closing the door behind her, the smile returning to your cheeks. “but I have something that I hope will make you feel better!” You sing, sitting Anna down and plopping yourself on her lap. You can tell she’s still in a foul mood, and even the peppering of kisses you give to her somber face doesn’t seem to help.

You rethink it all over again, but ultimately pull the gift from behind your back, looking up at your love with wide eyes, tying to assess the way her face moves, if it does at all. Anna has never been a particularly emotive lady.

“It’s a kitty, see?” You hold the mask up to your face and stick your tongue out, eyes still stuck on the woman under you. “I thought you could wear it if you get bored of your other ones. Or if your bunny gets all bloody…” You shrug a little, dropping the mask into your lap. “I know it’s kind of silly, you don’t have to wear it.”

It’s only a few seconds before the mask is out of your hands and strapped onto Anna’s face, and a little smile is peeking out from behind the cat’s nose. You can even see her eyes twinkling with what seem to be tears, if you focus hard enough.

“It’s perfect.” She grumbles in that deep, gravelly voice that just drives you mad. “Thank you, любимая .”

You’re both a couple of smiling messes now, your cheeks hurting as you place more and more kisses on the woman’s cheeks and on the forehead of the cat mask.

“You’re welcome, мой котенок!”

You giggle, but Anna’s focus has already turned to your hands, and you can imagine she’s thinking of all the ways she can heal the little cuts and bruises sprinkled on your fingers.

[melodygatesauthor]

Melody

Since I've had a rough week, can I ask for some fluff to warm my heart and calm my mind?

Marc Spector + 23 “Thank you for choosing me”, please💕

And happy upcoming birthday again!🌷

The Agreement

Marc Spector X gn!Reader

Anna this is so sweet. I'm sorry that it took me so long to get this out but I hope your week got better even without this drabble 💙 Soft Marc is such a baby boi. - I also didn't get the chance to use the prompt itself in the fic, but it has the overall vibe of that line so hope you like it! Hahaha.

Tags/Warnings: SFW, comfort fic, soft Marc, fluff, just a nice little drabble to make you smile, might hit you in the feels, mentions of sex but no actual sex.

Word Count: 532

You’d had a rough day, that much was apparent when you walked through the door. Marc froze, he knew that look. It meant one of two things. You either needed Steven to comfort you and watch your favorite movies, or you needed Jake to fuck you until your brain was mush. Either way, Marc wasn’t your go to guy.

His brow furrowed as you waved and said, hey, and made your way to the kitchen. He’d been looking forward to seeing you, and spending the evening with you, but when you were upset, he knew he wasn’t the one you needed.

Like riding a bike, the boys all fell into place, Steven fronting, Marc in the headspace where he would stay for the evening, and Jake waiting for his moment if you needed him instead of Steven.

You knew it was Steven when he came over behind you and kissed your cheek. You turned around and he was smiling at you, but you sensed something burning just under the surface. His eyebrows always gave him away.

“What?” You asked, brushing a stray curl from his forehead. “This is Marc’s coat, did he front today?”

“He was fronting, yeah, but then he saw you were having a rough day so…here I am.” Steven let out a nervous chuckle and leaned in for a kiss.

You put a finger up, stopping him, “I’m sorry, what happened?”

“Oh well…”

Pendejo, this is something we just do, we don’t need to tell them about it. Jake said in a gruff tone that made Steven nervous.

“Do you guys have some sort of agreement? Steven?” He would always be honest with you.

“No.” He pressed his lips together tightly.

“Steven Grant, don’t you start lying to me now.”

He changed, his expression went from sorry to a harsh scowl. Marc.

“You don’t expect us to think that we don’t have you pinned after a bad day, right? You have a bad day, Steven comforts you, Jake gives you what you need…physically. You don’t need me.” He crossed his arms over his chest defensively.

“Marc.” You put a hand on his arm. “You’re being stupid.”

“Thanks.” He rolled his eyes and looked away from you.

“No I mean…Marc…” you touched his cheek and brought his gaze back to yours. “Yes it’s nice what they do for me, but I need you too. I was always wondering why I don’t have you there to rant about idiots with when I’m mad or someone to laugh with me when I bitch about my shitty boss.”

He shook his head in confusion, “you like complaining?”

You laughed, “yeah sometimes! It’s nice to have someone to talk shit with. The other two are great but, I don’t get to vent the way I do with you. Steven just tells me it will be alright and makes me tea and watches tv with me and Jake just…well you know.” You gave him a reassuring smile. “Those things are both really great, but sometimes I just need something else.”

“So…you do need me? Even when you’ve had a bad day?” He raised an eyebrow before finally lowering his arms. “Sometimes I especially need you.”

Celebration Masterlist

[justmystyles]

Hi, could you make a fic about something to do with money maybe Harry dating a girl who came from not much and she still isn’t used to the fancy things in life like he is and so when there dating she feels bad ever spending his money.

I’m currently having to sell most of my Harry merch because we can’t afford to fix things in our house and I am very sad over it so I just need some comfort but if you decide not to write this, you’re still one of my favorite writers. Thank you for all the comfort you bring me.

Love Don't Cost A Thing

read my other work here

pairing: Harry Styles x plus size reader

word count: 1.1k

warnings: a couple of curse words, but other than that, it's tame.

a/n: to my anonymous requester, i am so sorry for the hard times you have found yourself in. i wish i had something i could say that would help you through. just know that hard times don't last forever, there will be a light at the end of the tunnel, and i am hoping and praying that you reach it soon.

also, thank you so much for your kind words. i am so incredibly honored that you consider me one of your favorite writers, that compliment made more than just my day, i think it may have made my whole summer. i hope this blurb is what you are looking for, and provides you the comfort you need right now.

if you ever need someone to talk to, i am here. i may not be able to provide much, but i am happy to be a listening ear (reading eye?) if you need one. 🖤

tags: @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @brightlightsinlife @creativelyeva @cute-as-ducks420 @fanficismydrug @gem1712 @golden-hoax @gothmingguk @groovychaosavenue @hillzrry @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jng4kook @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @lexiecamposv @mrs-anna-styles211994 @n0vaj3an @rach2699 @ravenclawdirectioner @stylesfeverr @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tiaamberxx @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat

The waiter drops the check at your table, thanking you for coming in and continues on his way. You reach your hand out to grab it, but Harry beats you to it. Again.

“Harry, you don’t have to–” 

“I know, baby, but I want to. I love spoiling my girl.” He reaches his free hand across the table, squeezing yours gently. 

Ever since you and Harry started going out, you hadn’t paid for a thing. Not only that, but the things he’s been paying for have been extravagant and way outside of your comfort zone. The gifts, the meals, the flowers, the flights. He has taken you around the world and back, and has refused to let you pay for any of it.

Holidays and birthdays had been hard too. Harry always gave you multiple extravagant gifts, you could never even come close to matching it. He told you he didn’t care, that your gifts were always so meaningful, and that’s what was important. You knew he meant it, that he didn’t need you to buy him fancy things. He was more than capable of doing it himself. But it didn’t matter to you, you felt an imbalance in the relationship that was only growing with time. And you were sure that the gossip blogs and fans noticed it, talking about how you were just with him for his money. It wasn’t true, you and Harry knew that and it should have been enough, but it wasn’t. 

You didn’t grow up poor, you were grateful for what you had and knew that there were others that were worse off than you. But you didn’t even have half of what you were experiencing now. Your parents raised you to be practical with your money, to save and not to spend frivolously. You always had what you needed, but weren’t always able to have what you wanted. 

Now that you were with Harry, even if you just made an offhand comment about a cute piece of jewelry or clothing, all of the sudden it was yours. You love Harry, and you know he was doing it because he loves you too, but it still didn’t sit right with you. 

Later that night, you were laying in bed together. Harry was talking to you about his schedule for the upcoming month.

“So I was thinking you could come meet me in Paris. We could go to that little cafe we love, do a little shopping.” He suggested with a smile, loving the idea of walking through the most romantic city in the world with the love of his life. 

“Sure,” you agreed. “I could probably swing the money for a round trip ticket.” 

“You’re not swinging anything,” he pressed a kiss to your temple. “I’ve got you, baby.” 

“Harry, I can afford a flight.” You’re not sure you really can. You’ll probably eat canned goods and boxed mac and cheese for a month, but it’s better than the guilt you feel every time Harry opens his wallet for you. 

“I know you can, but you shouldn’t have to. I’m asking you to come spend time with me, it should be my treat.” 

“Yeah, but everything is always your treat, Harry.” You say with a slight bite in your tone. 

Harry looks at you confused, and a little bit hurt. “Angel, are you alright?” 

“No Harry, I don’t think I am,” you confess. “I can’t keep doing this, it doesn’t feel okay.” Harry stays silent, allowing you to say what you need too. “I love you so much, and you have the kindest, most generous heart of anyone I have ever met. I just, it’s just too much. The meals, the gifts. You don’t let me pay for anything, I feel like… I don’t know. I know you don’t see a problem with it, but I do. It just makes me feel… uncomfortable. I’m basically living off of your money, and I don't feel right about it.”

“Baby,” he said as he let out a breath. “I had no idea you felt this way.” He brought his hand up, brushing your cheek gently. 

“I know you didn’t. And it’s a me problem, I know that too.” 

Harry shakes his head sharply. “No it’s not, it’s an us problem. You’re my girl, we’re in this together.” You look down, overwhelmed by how tender he was being with you despite the way you unloaded on him. “Why haven’t you told me about this before?”

You shrug, “I don’t know, it sounds kind of crazy when you think about it.”

“How?” He asked.

“Because, there are girls that would kill to be in my position, who would love to be spoiled and given all these extravagant gifts, and here I am complaining about it. I sound so ungrateful.” 

“Hey hey hey,” Harry holds your face in his hands. “You do not sound ungrateful.” He strokes your cheeks with his thumbs. “I love you, I love you so much and I give you all of these things because you deserve the world.”

“I love you too, but I don’t need all these things, the fancy dinners, the clothes, I just need you.”

He smiles softly at you, the adoration clear in his gaze. “I know angel, and that’s one of the things I love most about you. Your heart is so pure and good. I am so incredibly lucky that you have given it to me to hold, and I don’t ever want you to feel uncomfortable, especially not because of my actions.” 

“I know, and that’s part of the reason I didn’t tell you, I knew you’d feel bad. I don’t want you to feel bad about doing nice things for me.” 

“Tell me what I can do, how I can make you feel better.” He asked, willing to do anything to make you happy. 

You take a deep breath as you try to articulate your needs. “When I offer to pay for things, let me.”

Harry nods in agreement, pulling your face to his and kissing you softly. “Anything you want, love.” 

“And just because I say something is cute, doesn’t mean you have to buy it for me.” You add. 

“Got it,” he kisses you again. “But I can still spoil you sometimes, right?” 

“Sometimes,” you say in a subtle warning tone. “Just not all the time.”

Harry smiles, his brow arching mischievously. “How about I spoil you right now, and it won’t cost a cent.” 

Your breath catches in your throat at the implication of his words. “Sure, I guess I’d be okay with that.” 

[ingravinoveritas]

Feeling really normal about Georgia calling Michael "the boyfriend of my husband"

Okay, so...wow. Definitely a lot to unpack today, but first let me wish our own Welsh seduction machine the happiest of birthdays. Happy Birthday, Michael! 🎉🎂

So, there have been a few posts since last night, and my thanks to @moriarty-sisters for including the above screenshots. Posting some larger ones so we can take a better look, starting with AL's post:

And then we have Georgia's from this morning:

(Standard disclaimer that what follows here is only my opinion/observations, and does not mean that I am completely right. As I've said before, if I am wrong, I am more than happy to acknowledge that.)

It appears that a party was held in Michael's honor last night, and David and Georgia were in attendance. There has been some confusion about the pictures because Michael's hair length/facial hair are different in the group photo vs. the party photos, so to your Ask @kime11e (which I did not include here just to keep this less cluttered), I think that the group photo is not actually from last night (which then makes me wonder why Georgia didn't post one from last night, but more on that in a minute).

So, of course the first thing that stands out about all of this is Georgia calling Michael David's "boyfriend." As I've mentioned previously, Georgia has been calling Michael David's "other wife" since the end of 2021. (David has also called Michael his wife in other contexts, which was confirmed by Rob Wilkins.) "Boyfriend," however, is new. And in this instance, "boyfriend" feels very deliberate. While I don't think it's possible to say that this confirms what the exact dynamic between them is, what I think is confirmed is that something about that dynamic has changed.

But let me go back for a moment and talk about AL and Georgia's posts and the differences between them. In Anna's post, I was particularly struck by the difference in Michael between the picture of him and AL vs. the picture of him with the cake. The disconnect to me is so strong that it's like looking at two different people--the real Michael (cake picture) vs. the version of himself Michael becomes in every picture with her, as if he is playing a role. There is no light in eyes, no trademark twinkle that we so often see--he's just muted, somehow. And Anna again is so wrapped up in showing him off and making sure that she looks good in the picture that she doesn't seem to care how Michael looks.

I do want to note that I would not even be saying this were it not for the fact that this is the...third?...picture he's taken with her in the last month and a half where he looks like this (and noticeably only in pictures with her):

I've mentioned this previously on my blog, but even if Michael is doing a "bit," he is choosing to look this way in pictures with Anna. Seeing the response to Georgia's post today, however, I almost wonder if it's because they know the fans will never take anything the four of them do seriously, to where AL could say (just as an example) "Michael and I hate each other," and the fans would eat it up and say how funny they are. So in that sense, I could see them deciding to stop pretending entirely and for Michael to let his true feelings out because it's easier to hide in plain sight. I don't know for certain that is the case, but I also don't know how else to explain AL seemingly having no problem with her partner looking like this in multiple pictures with her.

Going back to today's birthday posts, aside from the pictures, I was also perplexed by Anna's caption on her post. It's so over the top in some ways, but somehow not enough at the same time. Again, this would have been an opportunity to say what a great father Michael is, or how he's such a wonderful person, but instead, Anna's caption focuses on how great she is for being willing to throw confetti on the floor, and to celebrate Michael's birthday even though it's apparently an inconvenience. It comes across as self-involved and self-serving, which is further augmented by this tweet of Anna's from earlier bragging about how great she is for the birthday present she got for Michael. All of this taken together, I think what bothers me is how it feels more like Anna is promoting herself than Michael, and that she saw his birthday less as a special occasion and more as a PR opportunity.

Looking at Georgia's post, what stood out to me (apart from the caption, that is) is the picture. Something I have noticed is that Anna seems to always have that tight, pained smile on when anyone other than her is taking the picture. I think Georgia knows enough about "bits" and narratives to know how to set things up, and it's interesting to me that when she does, Anna sort of looks out of place, even unintentionally. Then we have Michael and David, who are beaming in this group picture, and Michael in particular has a huge smile on his face, as he often seems to whenever David is near. And again, for me it's the massive contrast between Michael's expression in that group picture vs. in pictures with AL, as well as the contrast between Georgia and AL's expressions vs. Michael's and David's. What also stood out is what wasn't posted: A picture of Michael and David together.

Which brings me back to my earlier point about the dynamic between the four of them, and to @phantomstars24's comments. I think what's most noticeable to me is that, contrary to what I have also seen some folks say today, this is not "Oops, we're all dating" or a continued joke about them being a polycule (at least not in the way that many fans are assuming). Because in all of this, not once has there ever been a comment or joke about David/Anna or Michael/Georgia. (Heck, Anna doesn't even post a word about David on social media unless it's a reshared post from Georgia or official promo/behind the scenes photos.) So the contrast between what is available for public consumption (group photos, Michael/AL photos) and what isn't (Michael/David candid photos) is very curious.

With that in mind, what this this feels like is a shifting of a preexisting narrative as a form of damage control. Because, as we remember, Georgia has been calling Michael David's "other wife" since 2021, so why didn't she start the "flirting" with Anna at that same time? Or even in 2020, when the first season of Staged happened? Why wait until four years later, especially when she had ample opportunity to do this well before now? Perhaps we will never know why, but if I had to guess, I would say Georgia didn't have a need or reason to do it until now. And as the saying goes, the best place to hide the truth is between two jokes. "Anna is my wife." / "Michael is David's boyfriend." / "Georgia is my wife." Hiding in plain sight, while also taking the heat off of Michael and David.

Again, I realize everyone has different interpretations of this, and I am not going to tell anyone that their interpretation is wrong, or that they have to agree with me. But for me (and I would guess for many others), shipping Michael and David did not start with Georgia calling Michael David's "boyfriend." There is no way that that statement alone would cause such a reaction, but rather the cumulative effect of everything that has happened since 2018, including Michael and David flirting and adoring and eyefucking each other in countless interviews and appearances and much more, long before Georgia ever said a word about it on social media. Now that she has, however, it would seem almost foolhardy to discount the possible reasons why, and in my opinion, I can't see why it wouldn't be as likely that it's because Michael and David are lovers as it is because they are good friends.

So yes, those are my thoughts on today's events. Glad as always to hear from my followers and see what you think of these latest developments. Thanks for writing in! x

[txtistheloml]

birthday surprise

a/n: happy birthday my prince 👑 <3 thank you to @royallyjjk for helping me with the moodboard and beta-reading !! i love you anna 🫶🏻

pairing: gn!reader x idol!yeonjun

warnings: other than my terrible writing, lots of fluff, use of petnames (baby, my prince), members fake gagging if that matters, use of “bullshit” once.

word count: 1.53k (1530)

“hi moas! right now jjunie is in the shower so we have to talk softly hehe~ as you all know his birthday is tomorrow and I have a surprise for him! I convinced him to go with me to check out the huge toy store that I’ve honestly wanted to go for a very long time! I told him that we could film us exploring it to spoil you all a lil bit but what he doesn’t know is I’ll buy everything he touches and on his birthday I’ll have it all ready in a room and we’ll surprise him with it !! okay guys I think he’s almost done showering so I have to go before he catches me~” 

you quickly turn off the camera and place it back on the bedside table as you pretend to have been on your phone the whole time as yeonjun walks out of the shower, towel over his pretty waist almost making you lose your composure.

“why’d you want to go to this toy store so suddenly baby?” yeonjun asks as he pulls his shirt over his head.

“I saw many people going and saying there’s lots of cool toys and plus we haven’t fed moas with content for almost 2 months!” you pout at him, hoping he wouldn’t be able to see through you.

“are moas your fans now or mine hm~” he coos at you as he pinches your cheeks lightly, careful not to hurt you.

“they fell for you first but fell harder for me” taking your stand as you literally stand up and place your hands on your hips, only for him to laugh at you, picking up his bag and the camera, and pulls you along teasing, “alright my big baby lets goo~”

but really, he was the bigger baby between the two of you.

-

stepping into the toy store, you couldn’t help but marvel at the sight before you. as old as you were, you can’t help but admit toys still had a special place in your heart. yeonjun wasn’t any better than you, tugging at you immediately to go inside. quickly flipping the camera so that moas could see what you were seeing at that moment before you flipped the camera back, making sure it captured both yours and yeonjun’s faces. 

yeonjun made sure to hold your free hand, choosing to interlock your pinkies as that is usually what he loves to do, though the moment is cut short as all the toys come into view. that gave you the freedom to be able to film and take a quick picture of the items that yeonjun had touched though, so you didn’t whine about him letting you go as you usually would,

“woah y/n look!” yeonjun exclaims as he pushes on some random buttons of baby toys, leaving you to shake your head at him, giggling, and say to the camera, “see moas, he’s just a big baby in disguise.” 

“cmon baby, look there’s legos!” yeonjun exclaims as he runs off to his precious legos. not forgetting to snap a picture of the random baby toy he toyed with just now, you catch up with him only to see his doe eyes practically sparkling at the sight of so many lego sets.

he picks up a set and a second later he’s picking up a new one, his love for legos at its peak right now.

“can we get some please y/niee” yeonjun begs by your side. usually you would comply because after all he was your big baby but in order for the surprise to be an actual surprise for him, you had to ignore his pleas. “maybe next time baby? we came here to film us exploring this store for moas..” 

yeonjun pouts at you and turns to the camera, “see moas y/nie is so mean but i’ll still feed you guys with content so cmon you meanie” he grabs the camera and walks off to the next toy section turning back to you and asking “are you not coming baby?”

“of course I am, go ahead first.” he doesn’t question it as he continues walking, and you quickly catch up with him after you take pictures of the lego sets he had touched.

the rest of the “exploration” went on this way and after the two of you decided it was enough content, you guys bid your byebyes to moas and left the store and went home, of course with a yeonjun that was sulking while driving over the fact that you didn’t let him get those legos.

-

the next day he was at practice. you went back to the same toy shop and grabbed a cart, pulling out the photos of the items he touched from your phone, placing it inside the cart. being completely honest, you couldn’t help but smile giddily to yourself as you imagine his look of surprise when he sees all this. 

checking out was a bit of a heartbreak for you though. the prices of the lego sets, plushies, random ass baby toys and more added up together was quite pricey you admit, but you still did it anyways, out of your love for yeonjun.

-

“there that should be the last of it!” taehyun beams proudly at his work, namely a pile of toys he had helped you bring up to txt’s practice room while soobin was distracting yeonjun. “thanks tyun!” “I’m really am curious how soobin managed to keep that big baby distracted for so long.” giggling as you pick up the camera and a blindfold. 

“oh! also y/nie, yeonjun has been really excited knowing you were coming to celebrate his birthday with him today!” you only pat his shoulder and say, “well that means the surprise is going to be an even bigger surprise for him now!”

turning on the camera, pointing it such that you and taehyun were in the frame, you started going on about what you were going to do. “hey moas! I have the items all ready in txt’s practice room and we are going to get yeonjun right now! soobin has been keeping him busy until now while taehyun was helping me!” you point the camera towards taehyun such that only he was in frame as he waved to the camera before turning it back to yourself as you exclaim, “lets goo !!” 

-

as you guys walked to where yeonjun was, both of you couldn’t help but laugh out loud when you saw soobin and yeonjun argue over who was a better dressser as beomgyu and huening kai were standing on one side, snickering to each other. you direct the camera to the scene infront of you and sighed to yourself, “well now we know how soobin did it~” 

“babyyy, soobin says my taste in fashion sucks,” yeonjun pouts at you, arms crossed infront of him. “he’s lying baby your fashion sense in the best in the world hm?” you comfort him as you give him a few pecks to kiss his pout away, only to see the other members express their utter disgust at the two love birds they were looking at.

“come I have a surprise, put this on!” you tell yeonjun as you give him the blindfold. he gives you a look of suspicion before pulling on the blindfold, hands immediately seeking yours for a sense of security. you quickly turn back to soobin, mouthing a “thank you” to him as he nods his head to tell you it was no problem.

leading yeonjun to the practice room with the camera on him, he asked you, “what’s the surprise y/nie?” you only told him that he would know when he was there, adding onto his curiosity. “ahh tell me please, I’m so excited!”

-

upon reaching the room, you counted down for him to take of his blindfold. “3,2,1! take of your blindfold baby!” you told him excitedly, giddy from anticipation. yeonjun does as he’s told and when he sees the pile of toys infront of him, he only looks at you with doe eyes asking you what it was for. “these were in the store yesterday, you bought them all, when?” and as if on cue, the rest of the members came in holding a cake, singing the birthday song. 

after the song finished, he made a wish and blew the candles and turned to you. “you did all of this for me baby? thank you s’much” he states as he engulfs you in a big hug, then pulling away and realising, “wait is this why you didn’t let me get those lego sets..” pouting at you. “yes of course jjunie, if I had gotten those for you then it would have ruined the surprise,” you giggled at him. 

he was looking at you with so much love in his eyes with a goofy grin plastered on his face. with the both of you pulling in for a sweet kiss, I love you’s were exchanged, as well as the fake gagging sounds of the members who were so done with your lovey dovey bullshit. 

“happy birthday my prince, I love you.”

feedback would be appreciated !! (along w likes and reblogs hehe) <3

note: uhm ab the title i decided last min i wanted a title but the title box was gone hence thts why the title is so small maybe im dumb but idk how to do it 💀

[succubus-interactivefiction]

In My Skin Re-release

It could have happened to anyone, it was winter, and more than a little icy. The truck that hit you as you backed out of your driveway had simply lost control and slid into you, that was the last thing you can remember before you woke and found yourself in a strange new world, a world where magic was real and the fantastic common place.

On top of being reborn as a werewolf you are taken as the child of a Goddess, it is either that or remain stuck as a disembodied soul on a shelf in her palace for all eternity. But being a demigod isn’t so bad, at first anyway. Taken in by a pair of sisters who raise you as their own in an idyllic village it is certainly an easier childhood then you had before you died. You find a wonderful best friend who sticks with you through thick and thin and you slowly begin to come into your power as an incredibly powerful being.

When it comes time to leave your home there is only one thing that you want to do, become an adventurer, and so leaving the valley you have spent your entire life in you venture out into the world, entirely unprepared for the struggles that will be placed in your path. Along the way you will find friends, make enemies, and you will learn that even a God can die.

Features

Play as a Cis or Trans woman, with full customization over your physical appearance, your wardrobe, and combat style.

Explore a fantastical world unlike the one you came from.

Grow into your new power as a werewolf and demigod.

Find friendship with five women you meet and even romance with one, or possibly two, ROs.

Discover the truth surrounding your arrival in this strange world, and the mystery of the woman who seems to have been following you from rebirth to rebirth.

Romance Options *Can be romanced in a triad

Marie Gineves | Your Childhood Friend Age: 24 Height: 5'4” Build: Curvy, Chubby Eye Color: Gray Hair Color: Dark brown Skin Tone: Light brown Notable Features: Fidgety, rarely speaks Combat Style: Magic Character Traits: Lack of Confidence, Withdrawn, Caring Tropes: Reunion, Second Chance, Traumatized

Even in your childhood Marie felt as though she was required to look and act a certain way. She would always dress a certain way, act a certain way, and try to prove that just because she was born in a tiny village it did not mean that she could not be a lady worthy of nobility. This earned her more than her fair share of rivals and bullies, but through it all you stuck to her side. When she ran away from home shortly after her sixteenth birthday it was supposedly to find a life worthy of her, but instead all she found was hardship and despair. After you reconnect it is up to you if you will help her climb out of the darkness and whether or not you two can be together as something more than friends.

Rory Graytail* | Guild Blacksmith Age: 23 Height: 5'8" Build: Muscular, curvy Eye Color: Heterochromatic (Left Brown, Right Green) Hair Color: Black/Dark brown Skin Tone: Olive Notable Features: Scar under left eye Combat Style: Lance, strength, and agility Character Traits: Caring, Gruff, Foul-mouthed Tropes: Friends-to-Lovers, Woman in Peril, Teammates

A talented adventurer and prodigy blacksmith, Rory is a member of the adventurers guild in the kingdom's capital. Once the oldest twin, her younger brother died at the same time as their father and since then Rory has become a gruff individual who tends to scare most people away with her bad attitude and brusque tongue. But despite these faults Rory deeply cares for those closest to her and will typically go out of her way to make them feel loved. Unfortunately she also tends to rush into problems without thinking and this has led her into many situations that put her, and those around her, in more danger then they would normally be in.

Shoshanna (Anna) Graytail-Hunter* | Guild Herbalist/Alchemist Age: 26 Height: 6'2” Build: Slender Eye Color: Green Hair Color: Blonde Skin Tone: Pale Notable Features: Very graceful, Extremely shy Combat Style: Ranged (Rifle) Character Traits: Caring, Shy, Excitable, Very intelligent Tropes: Friends-to-Lovers, Love at first sight, Teammates

The resident alchemist for the capital city chapter of the adventurer’s guild, Anna is the adopted daughter of Lillain Graytail, the chapter master. Found with the corpses of her parents by Lillain after a brutal monster attack Anna spent several years in a near catatonic state and when she finally began speaking it was very rare and only in the presence of those she trusts. As she grew Anna discovered a natural talent for alchemy and a love of plants that led to her becoming the chapters resident herbalist and healer though she often goes out on adventures with her best friend Rory and when she does she uses her father’s rifle, a brilliant combination of magic and technology. While not the best shot in the guild she is still better than the average and is a welcome addition to any party.

Lillain Graytail | Guild Chapter Master Age: 110 Height: 5'11" Build: Toned, curvy Eye Color: Hazel Hair Color: Raven Black Skin Tone: Olive Notable Features: Graying hair, faintly glowing eyes Combat Style: High powered magic Character Traits: Caring, Protective, Easy going, Explosive temper Tropes: Office Romance, Sleeping with the Boss, Cougar

The chapter master of the adventurer’s guild chapter house in the kingdom's capital Lillain is a renowned mage who has fought in many wars, saved countless villages from roving monsters, and led the chapter to greater heights than any other chapter has ever managed. When there is a world ending catastrophe brewing Lillain is one of the first sent for by kings and queens from around the world. Despite this she has maintained a humble, easy going attitude and cares for every one of the chapter's members as if they were her own children. God's help anyone who hurts those she cares about though, she has a volatile temper and is quick to lose control when angered.

Essence | A Mystery Age: ??? Height: 6'4” Build: Voluptuous, Toned Eye Color: Gold Hair Color: Crimson Skin Tone: Pale Notable Features: Resting bitch face, only smiles when looking at MC Combat Style: Overwhelming magic and physical abilities Character Traits: Arrogant, Dominant, Overly Protective (only to MC) Tropes: Second Chance, Red-Flag, Past Lives

Essence is a mystery, you know she has spent millenia following you from rebirth to rebirth, but you only know her from your previous life. Your meeting had been the stereotypical meet-cute and you quickly became close. She seemed to know everything about you almost immediately but you never learned much regarding her past. You have been assured that she will never be able to find you in this new world but can someone who has been following you from life to life really be deterred by distance, time, or even dimension?