#coco next generation

[hannahhook7744]

Mariana Rivera Madrigal Headcanons;

Her full name is Mariana Isabela Luisa Rivera Madrigal. 

She was named her dad's mom, both her mom's sisters, and Mariano (who Mirabel and Miguel are both close to). 

She's eleven years old by d3.

She has the gift of Artistic Creation (meaning she can bring artwork to life, her own most easily). 

She is the daughter of Mirabel Madrigal and Miguel Rivera. 

She is a triplet. The other 2/3s of the trio are Marcelo and Marisol. She is the middle triplet. 

Their birthday is October 25th. 

Her favorite colors are green, black, and yellow. Her least favorite color is brown. 

She's a student at the Encanto’s only public school but will likely transfer to Auradon Prep when she's older if given the chance.

She's the only one of her siblings (so 1 out of 5) who doesn't need glasses. She has a phase when she's older where she wears lensless glasses for a solid couple of years because of this. 

Mariana wants to be a famous illustrator or artist when she grows up and has practiced for the position by helping Marcelo and Marisol make a cookbook— among other things. If she can't be either of those though, she'd settle for being an animator or video game graphics designer.

Her gift isn't just limited to paintings or drawings. It extends to statues and toys as well, and even taxidermy (as she learned when visiting a friend's house, since you know, the taxidermied animals in her house were already alive long before she was born).

Mariana will often times bring her toys, the statue of Alejandra in the courtyard, and the paintings in the house alive when she's bored or when one of her siblings/cousins needs an audience for something.

Where Marcelo is a mama’s boy and Marisol is neither a mama’s or daddy's girl, Mariana is a daddy's girl. 

Mariana has been told that she resembles her paternal Abuela Luisa, bisabuela Alma, her Tía Isabela, and her mamá quite a bit.

Mariana knows all the Auradon gossip because she's curious and Marisol is all too willing to tell her.

The eleven year old has been described as wildly curious, courteous, trusting, gentle, and fun loving as well as graceful, clever, imaginative, creative, loving, and well-mannered.

She can also be quite sad, impatient, cautious, lonely, and clingy, but not many people know that.

Mariana wants to go to art school after she graduates highschool.

Currently Mariana is single, though she is also starting to notice boys. 

Mariana is friends with Gronosis of Camelot, and Garanwyn of Camelot. 

Out of her siblings, she's the closest to Vera and Marcelo. She loves Marisol but her triplet drives her crazy and she loves Renata but they don't spend much time together since Renata doesn't like leaving her room often. 

Her favorite aunt is Luisa, her favorite grandparent is her abuela Luisa, her favorite uncle is Ryder, her favorite sibling is Marcelo, her favorite sister is Vera, and her favorite cousin is Silvia.

Mariana and Marisol can out argue Isabela and Mirabel, much to everyone’s displeasure. It is very hard to break up a fight between them if you aren't Marcelo. 

Mariana's favorite candy is Chocolates Madrigal. Her least favorite is fairy bubble gum because the whole memory of it nearly stealing Marisol is a traumatic one. 

Mariana can't stand Marisol and Marcelo's favorite book ‘The Tales of Flynnigan Ryder’ but will occasionally sit through it for them. 

Her favorite book is Catalino Bocachica, but she also likes Zorro, La pobre viejecita, El Terror de Sexto B, Los amigos del hombre, La historia en cuentos, Simón el bobito, and El Renacuajo Paseador. 

Her favorite holiday is Christmas but her second favorite is ancestry day.

Everyone thinks Mariana was the worst of the triplets when they were toddlers but their parents actually confirmed it was Marisol.

Mariana doesn't like bugs or worms, and turns green whenever she sees Mariana playing with her ant and worm farms. 

Mariana's favorite musicians who are not related to her are Celia Cruz and The Sorcerer's Apprentices. She has their albums, CDs, mixtapes, and posters all in her room.

Her favorite song by The Sorcerer's Apprentices is “Charm Me Maybe.”

Bruno is her favorite great uncle .

The yellow flower and the bows she can be seen sporting were gifts from Luisa and Isabela. 

Mariana has a pet elephant named ‘Art’ that Antonio introduced her to. She's taught him how to paint. 

Mariana used to have some one sided beef with Pepa and Arlo because their gifts kept ruining her drawings (Taking inspiration from @igetthedisneybox ‘s oc, Lidia Madrigal, on this one). She's (mostly) outgrown this now.

When Mariana was little, she was really quiet like Antonio used to (and still is to extent) which worried Miguel (like it did Pepa), but Mirabel wasn't as worried about it. 

Mariana is still a bit quiet but less so. Mostly because out of the triplets, she's the one who speaks up when something is bothering one of them (Marisol doesn't like complaining about things she deems childish and Marcelo is much too shy and a people pleaser to do so, which leaves Mariana). 

Mariana does not like going into Bruno's room because of the sand. For reasoning, check reason 10 on this list.

Mariana loves horseback riding (which her Abuelo Agustín taught her) and fencing (which Isabela and Bubo taught her). 

The only time Mariana being quiet ever really bothered Mirabel was when she was a baby—Marisol was colicky and Marcelo was startled easily, so it really freaked her and Miguel out at first until they got used to it. 

Mariana was the messiest of the triplets as a toddler and was the hardest one to get clean because she hated baths and tried to escape them every single time. 

Mariana's favorite animal is an elephant but a close favorite is a hummingbird— which is one of her Tía Luisa’s favorite animals as well. 

She also likes peacocks because they're pretty and remind her of her Abuela Julieta's favorite hat.

Come to think of it, she just really likes birds. 

Mariana collects lots of little things like sea shells and feathers to go into her artworks. 

The only bugs Mariana isn't grossed out by are fireflies because Isabela's room has them and she finds them pretty. It also probably helps that they make it not dark, since Mariana like Luisa and Marcelo is afraid of the dark. 

Mariana's also afraid that she'll never be a good enough artist. 

Mariana used to have two irrational fears: one was that if she got caught in the rain she'd melt and one that if she played with her Papá’s guitar or went in a graveyard she'd end up stuck in the land of the dead. 

She actually used to be really afraid of water in general before she got her gift. Getting it only made it worse. 

She likes her mamá’s door (which has symbols of their family on it) better than her own. 

Mariana knows how to sew but doesn't utilize the skill often. 

Roses are her favorite flowers. Yellow ones in particular. 

Her favorite play is Cruella de Vil on Trial. On an unrelated note, Mariana cannot stand Cruella de Vil. 

She also doesn't like Tourney because she thinks it looks scary. 

Mariana's favorite video game is Hero Rising. 

Her favorite shows are “Auradon’s Classiest Home Videos”, “Widow Tweed’ Neighborhood”, and “Stranger Thingamabobs”. 

She also likes watching Auratube. 

Mariana is … partially responsible for the tv channel ‘Evil Isle’ being removed from air because she accidentally watched an episode of “Cruella de Vil’s Coat Club”. It scared her to tears and well…Abuelita wasn't happy. 

Her favorite business to visit when traveling outside of the Encanto is “The Merry Men Cafe”. 

Mariana also loves flowers, polkadots, and just patterns in general. 

She prefers to sleep in nightgowns because she finds them more comfortable.

Mariana’s been called Mirabel several times by forgetful villagers and doesn't like it. 

Mariana has a stuffed peacock that Mirabel made her when she was a baby that she named “Señora Painted”. 

Has trouble making friends because her drawings are easier to get along with. 

Was very much the kid in school who always tried to eat glue, erasers, paint, etc. 

Chews on her pens and pencils all the time. In fact she has a scar on her lip from when she chewed through the front of her pen and the metal cut open her lip.

Several of her hobbies are related to creativity—painting, photography, drawing, embroidery, gem painting, stop motion, animation, learning to play different types of music, scrapbooking, knitting, crocheting, digital art, sculpting, etc. She wants to learn how to do wood carving too but her parents are holding off on that until she’s a little older. 

She also likes reading, doing crossword puzzles, playing video games, acting (though she’s not good at it), bird watching, and exploring and wouldn’t be opposed to joining a Swords and Shields team when she’s older if her parents allowed for it. 

Can often be seen riding on the back of her pet elephant—something that gave her parents a heart attack when they first saw it. They made her promise to always wear a helmet when she’s on the elephant because they don’t want her to get hurt. 

She made her own bike with the help of her abuelos and both her great uncles, and she, Marcelo, Marisol, Renata, and Vera painted it together. 

Drew a donkeycorn for Silvia’s fifth birthday and brought it to life for a few days. That was how they discovered that Mariana’s gift could have disastrous effects on her health if she keeps the drawings alive for too long. She was out for two weeks. 

She’s thinking of becoming a vegan or vegetarian when she’s older since she doesn’t like most meats but isn’t sure about it right now (Mirabel and Miguel want her to wait till she’s closer to her teens because of the health effects they’ve heard it has on children and she’s keeping that in mind, too). 

She can play the accordion, the piano, and the maracas, and plans to try and learn more. 

Mariana likes learning different languages and can speak English, French, varying types of Spanish, and bits of the romani language (that one Cornel taught her but he doesn’t remember too much of said language so it’s sparse). 

Mariana is jealous of the record player in Marisol’s room because she thinks it’s cool but she won’t admit it if asked by anyone other than Marisol. 

Marisol, Marcelo, Renata, and Vera like to joke that Mariana is ‘gatekeeping the family sight’/ ‘stole all the twenty-twenty vision’. 

She finds skeletons creepy and doesn’t like them. Which is unfortunate because Marcelo dressed as a skeleton for halloween most of their childhood. 

Mariana, on the other hand, made her own costumes—which backfired only once when she accidentally brought her mask to life and couldn’t get out of it (which made her develop a whole new fear). 

She’s a big fan of cosplay and often does intricate ones when able. 

Mariana eats lemons raw.

Mariana can drive—but her parents don’t know that. Only Marisol and Marcelo can. 

Mariana has a black belt and, like her great Tía Pepa, is very good at fighting and has a temper on her.

Mariana chews her nails when nervous. 

Another one of her favorite video games is Fix-it-builds (aka Auradon’s version of Minecraft in my au). 

Mariana is the most fidgety of her siblings. 

She spends a lot of time in the treehouse Agustín, Bruno, Gabriel, and Félix  built for the next gen kids.

Out of the Rivera Madrigal Triplets, Mariana knows the most swears. 

Despite being a bad actor, she has quite a good innocent face that is good at getting her out of trouble. 

Her creations will not hurt her willingly. The only time one ever came close was the time she accidentally brought her halloween mask to life but they eventually figured out that it was just trying to protect her from Marcelo’s costume. 

Once convinced Marcelo for a month that he was found in a KFC bucket next to a dumpster and was rescued after he made her mad (she can’t remember why).

Mariana spends a lot of time with her parental family. More than Marcelo, Marsiol, and Vera do but around the same amount that Renata does. 

She was a bed-wetter as a kid for an embarrassingly long time and didn't have a lot of sleepovers because of it. 

She really likes the band the Donkeyettes and Aziz’s music. 

She’s subscribed to both Aziz and Tulip on Auratube. 

Tulip's channel is “Perfect Perfection and Pranks with Tulip” and is Mariana’s absolutely favorite channel ever. 

Mariana basically hero workshops Tulip now that I think of it. 

(Inspired by Lidia Madrigal again) Mariana got people to finally start remembering her name after a tantrum of hers caused one of her doodle drawings to go on a rampage in the Encanto. 

After this incident several people from Auradon offered to put a ‘hold’ on Mariana’s gift or take it away completely. The people were, of course, chased off by Mirabel, Luisa, and Julieta who were offended by this. 

Mariana was very smug when they found out Santa Claus was real and wouldn’t let Marisol hear the end of it (because of how she told them he wasn’t). 

Had a ‘clone’ nightmare incident one time because she accidently brought a very realistic portrait of her to life while the adults were away and it was left to her cousins to figure out who was the real Mariana. She never brought any picture or artwork of her to life again. 

Mariana is terrified of big dogs. Absolutely terrified. She got attacked by one once who had a bad and irresponsible owner, and has been scared of them ever since (the dog was rehomed to a better owner). 

Mariana has bitten several people for being mean to her family. Mostly people who've been mean to Bruno because there are a lot of them. 

Mariana will burst into song at random for seemingly no reason sometimes. 

She can walk in platform heels.

Her favorite drink is Shape-Shifting Fruit Treats (which a smoothie Julieta makes). 

Her favorite food is Sweet and Savory Corn Balls. 

Her favorite sweet that her family makes is Mystical Gift Cookies. 

Mariana is a horrible liar. 

Mariana is still terrified of  La Llorona. 

Mariana sleeps with a weighted blanket. 

Mariana is clumsier than Marisol but compared to the rest of their siblings and their mother and abuelo, she isn't very clumsy at all. 

She discovered you can hide under rugs while in Casita and now uses that all the time during hide n’ seek. No one can ever find her. 

She proofreads Marisol's books and fanfiction, and edits them when needed. She also writes her own. 

It is very hard to embarrass Mariana and because of that, she is will not hesitate to put herself in embarrassing situations if it means lessening her cousins and siblings’ embarrassment. 

She used to cling to her dad and refuse to let go when she was little whenever they left the house. It was a nightmare when she started school.

When she grows up she plans to get a lot of tattoos and she even has a few decisions for some she had in mind already.

Her door shows her covered in paint, standing beside a canvas with her face on it. 

She has a couple of book shelves in her room along with a radio and a cd player as well as a tv. 

Her baby blanket/quilt is green with yellow roses and a couple of peacock feather patterned squares here and there. 

Her room is about twice as big, if not a little bigger, then the nursery with dark blue, black, and pink bird wallpaper on two of the walls and space where she cannot only draw but paint as well. These drawings are easier to get off with an eraser than they would be on paper. 

Inside her room she has a bed that's big enough to fit her, Marcelo, and Marisol with a green and yellow wooden frame. She has peacock bedsheets and her bed is absolutely covered in pillows and stuffed animals of every shape and size. 

She has a peacock pattern weighted blanket that rests on her bed along with her baby blanket and the green blanket with one of her doodles embroidered on it that her mom made her for her fifth birthday.

The floor in her room is a soft pastel yellow colored carpet that cleans itself. It is the softest carpet you will ever feel. 

The ceiling has the same glow in the dark stars that one of the older kids stuck on the nursery ceiling but it also has glow in the dark hummingbirds on it too. 

After Antonio gave her Art the elephant, she found that her room and door had expanded so that Art could enter and that her room had created a not so little era for him to call his own. 

Mariana’s room also a couple of filing cabinets for her put the drawings she wants to keep, a hummingbird toy chest, a hummingbird chair, and a hummingbird desk. 

She has a couple of pictures of her friends and family up around the room in elephant shaped picture frames. 

She also has a closet where her clothes are stored, a dark room off to the side of her room through another door, and a storage area for her easel and canvases. 

One time, when she had some kids from school over for her birthday, one mean girl wrote some very mean and inappropriate things on one of the walls (which made her cry) and Casita got mad she threw the girl out of the room and out of the house. It caused quite the ruckus but Casita refused to apologize and Mirabel wasn't too keen on apologizing either when she figured out what happened. That girl is still allowed in Casita. 

Got an infection once from doing a stick and poke (a tattoo created by manually poking the skin with a needle dipped in ink). She has a scar from it. She got grounded for that one.

When she's overwhelmed or upset, the drawings in her room refuse to let her leave until she's calmed down . Her creations also are more reluctant to listen to her.

[igetthedisneybox]

A villager, about Marcelo: He's so creepy.

*a shoe flies and hit them in the head and Mirabel's voice can be heard off camera* DON'T YOU CALL MY BABY CREEPY!

Five year old Marcelo *staring at them with glowing greyish-blueish-green eyes that come with his laser/x-ray from a dark corner, with his papá Miguel*

Villager *sputters*

Mama Elena must be so proud of Mirabel and Miguel lol. Using the power of la chancla for good.

[tohruies]

hi hi mrs yao !!!! christmas is coming up, are you going to celebrate anythinf with xiangli ? :33 btw, since miss coco doesnt have a tree, here's a little something to say thank you for being one of my lovely moots 🥺

oh! 😁 hi hello mr puppetgear! 😁 christmas celebrations with xiangli you ask! 😁 well actually! 😁 you see, i was th— *dies upon seeing the image you’ve attached to this ask* 😳😲🤯😱😱😱😵💀🪦

[kindheart525]

Would any of your next gens be smiling friends fans lol

Yes! Snowcone and her Nana Raz are the first to come to mind

The show would be another one of their inside jokes, with them constantly quoting it to each other and the rest of their loved ones to the point where it’s like they’re speaking their own language. Everypony around them is utterly confused when they start speaking their nonsense with those funny voices, and their family doesn’t like when they hog the TV to watch cartoons all the time, but it makes them laugh and they have fun with it

Also, Tea Cake

She’s that kid who watches TV super loudly in the middle of the living room, and her parents don’t like to tell her no because hasn’t their baby girl been through enough already? But they definitely wonder if stuff like this is rotting her brain

[sexynetra]

hello! i was planning on drawing the rawnsyf characters, but i don't really have a clear idea of what every character looks like. do you have any examples of what the characters would wear on a day-to-day basis?

OMG WHAT THATS SO SWEET 😭 😭 😭

For Marcia I generally imagine her in like preppy pastel 2 or 3 piece sets that have a kind of 50’s meets 90’s vibe, very reminiscent of her premiere episode yk? Skirts and sweaters and matching tops. She also of course has her matching workout sets that she wears all the time :)

Anetra I think is a little harder to pinpoint, I don’t think her style is as distinct. I generally imagine her a little more on the light grunge side, like big t-shirts and cargos and flannels and leather jackets, but I also think she’s still figuring out herself and her sense of style so there’s definitely more wiggle room with the way she presents herself haha — just definitely not hyper femme and retro like Marcia

I hope this is helpful somewhat!!! Lmk if you want any other characters and also omg I am still kvelling this is so incredibly sweet I am HONORED that you want to draw my girls 🥹🥹🥹

[justalesbianinherlittlegayworld]

Now for the fnaf next gens these girls are i think from 2023

First Coco the daughter of glamrock Freddy and glamrock Bonnie

Next Cherry Bomb whos the daughter of glamrock Foxy

Then Coffee and Cream who are the daughters of Shadow Fronnie and Toy Fronnie Respectively

Again very old art

[astonmartinii]

rookie love | oscar piastri social media au

pairing: oscar piastri x hamilton!reader

sure it's a rookie mistake to lose it in a corner, but is it a rookie mistake to fall in love with lewis hamilton's younger sister?

request from the lovely @starfriuts

MASTERLIST | BUY ME A KO-FI?

f1

liked by lewishamilton, oscarpiastri and 1,324,772 others

tagged: oscarpiastri, yourusername & logansargeant

f1: welcome the rookie class of 2023 !! 2021 f2 champion oscar piastri will race for mclaren, 2022 f2 champion y/n hamilton will be racing for aston martin and 2022 f2 runner up logan sargeant will be racing for williams!

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user1: MY prema girlies

user2: 2019 rookies i am so sorry but there's a new favourite in town

yourusername: two hamiltons on the grid i know that's right 💅 👯‍♀️

lewishamilton: they hate us cause they ain't us

yourusername: they can't handle the sass

lewishamilton: neither can the fia

yourusername: ... yeah i've been briefed :(

user3: okay, walk with me. if y/n does all of grill the grid, lewis might do the secret santa again

user4: hopes and prayers

fernandoalo_oficial: i'm teammates with a rookie hamilton, i think i've seen this film before

yourusername: i lived through that old man, don't think i won't use your own tricks on you

fernandoalo_oficial: well there's no dna test necessary here

yourusername: the slay is hereditary, but clearly skipped your generation

fernandoalo_oficial: HEY

oscarpiastri: get her jade

fernandoalo_oficial: EY?

user5: the way the grid are not ready for how ride or die y/n and oscar are for each other

user6: bro just quoted COCO MONTRESE for her i am so ready

logansargeant: dude we're getting the band back together

oscarpiastri: f1 boyband have nothing on us

yourusername: xnda who?

lewishamilton: :/

yourusername: no one is safe sorry lew @charles_leclerc you're next piano boy

charles_leclerc: WHAT

user7: i know the aston martin pr department sweating buckets with both fernando and y/n

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, lewishamilton and 1,332,551 others

yourusername: the hamilton name comes with the wardrobe

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user8: finally lewis has some competition

user9: if there's something a hamilton is going to do it's going to be wearing a monochromatic outfit.

lewishamilton: was the third photo really necessary?

yourusername: yes!

lewishamilton: you're so corny

yourusername: i know this man ain't speaking.... DIGITAL FOOTPRINT

lewishamilton: girl. i've read your diary and your code names don't mean SHIT

yourusername: YOU WHAT?

lewishamilton: got bored when you had a work call ?

yourusername: come to aston's hospitality i got something to show you

lewishamilton: just text me

yourusername: no. spoiler: it's my FOOT up your ASS

user10: so i thought the tussles would be between fernando and y/n not y/n and lewis

georgerussell63: this is just how they are, they'll be besties again in like two minutes

oscarpiastri: why is my outfit not on here you said i slayed :(

yourusername: you did slay !!

landonorris: he literally wore a team shirt and chinos

yourusername: yes but on the oscar scale that is a slay

oscarpiastri: exactly

landonorris: ok?

yourusername: watch your tone mr. norris, you're being awfully loud for a ripped skinny jeans owner 🤨

landonorris: ????

oscarpiastri: :)

user11: okay i think i get the whole ride or die thing now

logansargeant: believe me it gets worse

lewishamilton

liked by oscarpiastri, yourusername and 1,844,902 others

tagged: yourusername

lewishamilton: bucket list moment ticked off to share a podium in f1 with my baby sister !!

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user14: two hamiltons in f1 and on the podium before gta 6

user15: we got two hamiltons on the podium but still can't escape a max win

yourusername: thank you for not posting the picture of me bawling my eyes out

lewishamilton: i thought i'd be nice, just this once. i'm proud of you

yourusername: thank youuuuuuuuuuuuu. insane to be on the podium with my biggest idol

maxverstappen1: y/n that's very kind of you

lewishamilton: really?

yourusername: 😭 😭 😭 😭 😭 😭 😭

maxverstappen1: saw the opportunity and had to go for it

yourusername: i respect that

lewishamilton: but i am your biggest idol right?

yourusername: yes.

user16: max really out here like i will make a double hamilton podium about me LOL

oscarpiastri: that's my best friend GO BEST FRIEND

yourusername: oscar piastri podium coming soon @mclaren get ur shit together

oscarpiastri: PR KNOW SHE DOESN'T MEAN THAT

yourusername: no i mean every word i wanna be on the podium with oscar :(

oscarpiastri: slumber party ?

yourusername: i'll be there @logansargeant u coming?

logansargeant: i don't really feel like third wheeling

this comment was deleted

logansargeant: if you're buying the room service - yeah

user17: LOGAN WE SAW THAT

user18: y/n x oscar truthers we have some more evidence for the board

user19: gets first woman in f1 on the podium... immediately assumes she’s in a relationship with another driver

user20: i see where you're coming from but watch the prema videos and tell me there's no tension there

user21: idk if oscar can handle all of that ...

user22: i have faith in my goofy lil guy

liked by yourusername

user22: WHAT

oscarpiastri

liked by landonorris, yourusername and 612,094 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri: pookie was on the podium

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user23: okay you shipper bitches may have had a point...

yourusername: when pookie calls you pookie you know it's real

fernandoalo_oficial: i have never felt older than when i listen to you and oscar talk for more than five minutes

yourusername: the girls who get it, get it

oscarpiastri: and the girls who don't.... well

fernandoalo_oficial: i am a 42 year old man

yourusername: and it shows

oscarpiastri: ... oop

user24: oh they annoying... KEEP GOING

lewishamilton: so this is what you left the after party for?

yourusername: yeah and what about it?

lewishamilton: okay like maybe i need to separate you and oscar cause why are you eating me up

yourusername: i'm me but oscar is a victim of the sassy man apocalypse

oscarpiastri: guilty as charged (i learnt everything from your sister)

user25: you guys acting like oscar being like this is a surprise ... we didn't all see him scalp alpine last summer?

user26: the way in my head him and y/n wrote that tweet together and were giggling the whole time

yourusername: we can neither confirm or deny

user27: that's confirmation to me

logansargeant: when will the logan sargeant erasure end?

yourusername: when you serve as much as me?

logansargeant: i am TRYING

yourusername: plus this is an appreciation post for me, stop trying to steal opportunities from women

logansargent: HUH?

oscarpiastri: so disappointing from you logan...

logansargeant: i'm so done with you two

yourusername

liked by lewishamilton, oscarpiastri and 1,309,562 others

yourusername: summer break is annoying i wanna go racing again

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user31: WHO IS THAT MAN?

user32: my brain (psychosis) tells me it is oscar

user33: i'll believe you

lewishamilton: HOW DARE YOU SOFT LAUNCH WITHOUT TELLING ME

yourusername: girl. sort the tone and i'll call you

lewishamilton: do you think i am dumb? i know exactly who that is, i just need the confirmation so i can beat his ass

yourusername: why would i tell you if you're gonna beat his ass?

lewishamilton: JUST TELL ME

yourusername: you'll have to find me to do that, see you in zandvoort xxx

user34: i think lewis is having brocedes flashbacks

user35: i know bro is PACING

fernandoalo_oficial: you wanna give me a tow in qualifying?

yourusername: why would i do that old man?

fernandoalo_oficial: @lewishamilton i know.

lewishamilton: ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? FERNANDO KNOWS?

yourusername: NOT ON PURPOSE HE'S JUST NOSEY AND LIKES TO READ MY TEXTS OVER MY SHOULDER

fernandoalo_oficial: guilty 💅

yourusername: fine. one tow.

fernandoalo_oficial: thanks girly

user36: we have to study the girlypopification of fernando since being teammates with y/n

oscarpiastri: it's missing pookie hours

yourusername: i am having separation anxiety

user37: these hoes think we don't know 😂

user38: they think they're throwing us on their scent ... YALL NOT SUBTLE

oscarpiastri

liked by landonorris, yourusername and 802,778 others

oscarpiastri: does this count as a win?

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user39: sorry max we got an oscar win we don't care about your championship win

yourusername: LET'S FUCKING GO POOKIE

oscarpiastri: slumber party is gonna eat i fear (why do we have to race tomorrow?)

yourusername: you know who else ate? YOU TODAY

oscarpiastri: hehehehe i guess i did

yourusername: no i am so fucking proud of you

oscarpiastri: love you

yourusername: luv you too

user40: okay so they're just playing with our feelings now?

landonorris: proud of you bro (please turn down the beyonce)

oscarpiastri: don't make me enter my lemonade era

landonorris: are you threatening me with a brocedes?

oscarpiastri: maybe?

yourusername: lmao watch your ass lando, i gave him the play-by-play i was in the brocedes trenches

lewishamilton: 1. happy for you oscar 2. SHUT THE FUCK UP

oscarpiastri: oops?

yourusername: sorry lewis, we'll stop joking about britney if you finally call him

nicorosberg: stop calling me that

lewishamilton: why are you here?

nicorosberg: just observing...

user41: poor lewis having his trauma used as a joke 😭

logansargeant: i'm defo skipping this slumber party

user42: you want to elaborate?

logansargeant: no. i don't think i will

user43: JUST SPILL

yourusername

liked by lewishamilton, oscarpiastri and 1,903,448 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

yourusername: got my first win, me and my boyfriend are better than you x

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user44: I FUCKING KNEW IT

user45: i'm gonna need all the bitches who came for me for shipping them so give me my flowers

oscarpiastri: finally. you're too cute not to kiss all the time

yourusername: then hurry up and come here

oscarpiastri: gladly

user46: no i think he actually went, these bitches usually never shut the fuck up

lewishamilton: ...

georgerussell63: oscar RUN THE BREATHING TECHNIQUES AREN'T WORKING

alexalbon: no he's actually going to scrap you RUN FOR YOUR LIFE

landonorris: those dumbasses don't know what is about to hit them

yourusername: why is logan texting me 911 who is being dramatic

yourusername: wait

yourusername: is that him already

georgerussell63: yes for such a short man he's surprisingly fast

lewishamilton: OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR

yourusername: no!

lewishamilton: I JUST WANNA TALK

oscarpiastri: your tone is scaring me

yourusername: OSCAR NO

lewishamilton: OPEN THE DOOR

user47: it's been 20 mins, can we have an update

oscarpiastri: i am alive!

lewishamilton: regardless of what just happened, i am so proud of you y/n !!

yourusername: i love you big brother :))))))

lewishamilton: you're such an inspiration, here's to many more!

user48: lewis being all supportive now after he's scrapped oscar?

lewishamilton: i didn't fight him, he had 30 seconds to convince me not to kill him

oscarpiastri: i did very well :)

lewishamilton: sure

yourusername: you did great babe

oscarpiastri: :)

oscarpiastri

liked by logansargeant, yourusername and 1,099,457 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri: please don't put me into the barriers lewis, i love your sister

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user51: i think it's safe to say that the 2023 rookies have out done the 2019 rookie sorry not sorry

yourusername: POOKIE, I LOVE YOU POOKIE

oscarpiastri: I LOVE YOU TOO POOKIE

logansargeant: can i like have a medal or some championship points for 1. dealing with this nonsense and 2. keeping this a secret

yourusername: you're our favourite third wheel? that's all i got

oscarpiastri: we also pay for your room service every time

logansargeant: ... fine

user52: they're all so close to me, need y/n and oscar to be the first husband and wife to both win a championship

yourusername: that's the plan 🤞

oscarpiastri: are you PROPOSING TO ME?

yourusername: not yet...

oscarpiastri: hehehehehehe

lewishamilton: SLAM ON THE BRAKES, I JUST GOT USED TO THIS LET'S NOT BRING UP MARRIAGE

yourusername: maybe you need to leave your slag era so i can wife oscar

lewishamilton: DO NOT SLUTSHAME ME

user53: the hamilton piastri house about to be ground zero for the sassy man apocalypse

landonorris: you people are so grossly in love, how did we miss it?

alexalbon: speak for yourself it was so obvious

yourusername: we we're pretty obvious

oscarpiastri: yeah i can confirm that when we told you we were having a pillow fight, we were not

landonorris: WHAT

lewishamilton: delete this.

fernandoalo_oficial: @yourusername did you guys do this so you didn't have to give me a tow?

yourusername: yes xoxoxo

note: i hope you enjoy. life is insane right now but i got my first article at the top of the google rankings so there's that. also ordered my graduation gown and dress!! much love x

[f1cflcfic]

Won't Say I'm in Love (SMAU ft Lando Norris) part i

pairing: lando norris x tennis player!reader (fem!y/n); past carlos alcaraz x tennis player!reader (fem!y/n)

summary: As a general rule, y/n does not date athletes. You've been there, done that - would not recommend. Besides, you definitely don't do love. There's no time in the world for complicated feelings when there's a career Grand Slam to be won. But what if your heart just refuses to listen?

genre: social meda/mixed au, friends to lovers

note: this is RPF and is obviously in no way, shape, or form reflective of real persons

January 2025

[Excerpt post-match interview]

“I’m with Channel 9, Y/N – do you think that it’s fair to say that you were struggling a little bit this match, making more unforced errors than strictly needed?”

“Well, I won in the end, didn’t I?” Y/N answers, not unkindly. “I think that she’s a very strong opponent, so I had to take some more risks, which might result in some mistakes, but it also gave me the points I needed to take two consecutive sets. So no, I wouldn’t say I was struggling.”

“How did you feel going into the tournament here, knowing that there’s also increased rivalry amongst fans of Carlos Alcaraz and yourself? Does that reach you on the court?”

“I think there’s always fan rivalries, and it’s very normal to play some matches where you know you’ve got the public support, and sometimes you won’t. One of the things I like about the Australian Open is that there’s usually a really positive atmosphere in the crowds though.”

“But there’s obviously more eyes on you than on your opponent, doesn’t that have consequences for how you mentally prepare yourself?”

Y/N sighs. “I really thought we’d exhausted these type of questions already. There’s a long season ahead of us, and I’d really like to move on.”

“Hi, I’m here with ESPN. Congrats on the win today, and for getting into the semis. Last year didn’t end on the best note, and your early exit at the US Open cost you a lot of points on the WTA rankings. But you’ve certainly shown here so far that you’re ready to get back to that #1 position. What do you think has changed?”

“I really feel like I’m in a great place, I’m physically and mentally fit and just super focused. Of course I’d like to gain back the #1 position, but it’s honestly not really my main goal. My mentality is that each of these matches is just another regular match, until I’m holding a trophy in my hands.”

"Would you also say it's easier to excel when you're not constantly having to balance a relationship on top of everything else?"

"I think that greatly depends on the other person. But I'd say that the most important relationship for me as a player is with my coach, and I'm really grateful to have had Kim's support over the past year."

"Hi, I'm with Sports Inc., congratulations on your win. We saw you hit the fastest forehand of the tournament so far. Do you ever watch back your own matches to see where you can improve?"

"Thanks so much for the nice question. I don't watch things back, but usually if I or my team feel like there's bits and pieces we want to analyse, we might look for specific footage or film during practice. And what a nice stat, I didn't know, is that across the entire tournament?"

"Fastest average speed amongst all players, fastest forehand amongst WTA players. As you probably well know, Carlos leads the ATP players. Are there other players that you look up to or get inspired by?"

There's a tick in Y/N's jaw, and she whispers something to her publicist before answering the question. "I'm really excited to potentially play Coco if I get through the next match, because we train together quite often and can really push ourselves to play our best, most fun tennis. That'd also be great for the crowd, I hope. Thanks for everyone's time today."

Semi Final Australian Open, 2025

[Excerpt interview with Oscar Piastri]

"What a joy to have another Aussie athlete here in the Rod Laver Arena, enjoying some beautiful tennis today! Is this your first time visiting the Australian Open?"

"It is, actually. Which is funny, because I grew up around here. But it's definitely been amazing to come here and soak up the atmosphere, especially so close to home. So I'm super grateful to Mastercard for the invitation."

"Are there any players in particular that you're rooting for, or hope to see advance into the final?"

"Well, I'm of course rooting for our own, but I have to say that I'm also quite excited to see Y/N L/N take the win."

"She's also good friends with your teammate Lando Norris, isn't she? Had you two met before?"

"Yeah, she's also been to a few of our races. I'm honestly surprised that I got to see her here before Lando did - they're proper mates. And Carlos, too."

"Carlos?"

"Carlos Sainz. Yeah."

"So can fans of Y/N expect to see her at one of your races this year, too? Will she be in Williams or McLaren getup?"

"Gotta be papaya, of course."

Final Australian Open, 2025

Men's Final Australian Open, 2025

A/N: welcome officially to this new universe! I'm hoping to have part ii up next week and keep to a semi-regular weekly schedule.

part ii available now here

taglist (open): @linnygirl09

♥ likes, comments, reblogs are always very much appreciated ♥

[januaryembrs]

WHO'S AFRAID OF LITTLE OLD ME? | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader [10]

description: the one with Cat Adams + the one where she tells him.

length: 13k

warnings: literally just watch 11x11, mention of vomit, blood, alcoholism. mention of pregnant wives??

previous chapter | series masterlist | next chapter

‘who’s afraid of little old me?

you should be,’

She remembered when she was little when she would wake up so early even the birds hadn’t uttered a morning chirp, her stomach grumbling because she usually hated the fancy stuff they had for dinner and ended up leaving it on her plate. She remembered thinking her mother would be no use, that Elizabeth would tell her to go straight back to bed, even if she whined and cried that she wanted breakfast, remembered thinking Louise, the au pair that usually took the morning shift, wouldn’t be in for another hour or so, and she certainly wasn’t tall enough to reach the cabinets yet. 

Which left her with Emily. 

Nineteen year old Emily, who was already in and out of the house with college, her hair a box dyed black, singed from all the crimping and hair spray. Emily, who liked to take her to the park even if she pretended she was too old, who played Barbies with her and helped her cut all their hair off probably because she figured that was better than her constant urge to do whacky things with her own locks. Emily, who had never wanted a little sister really until Elizabeth had brought home the carrier and suddenly she had never loved ten chubby fingers and toes so much.

She remembered waking Emily up, usually by pulling herself up onto her sister’s Mötley Crüe themed bedding and prodding at the girl’s shoulder until she stirred, how Emily would lead her down the long, ornate hallway into the kitchen, when the only sound in the house would be their bare feet padding along the cold tiles. How Emily would yank two bowls out of the cupboard, tipping a generous dose of coco pops in each of them, back when they were full of sugar and real chocolate, not the healthy crap they sold nowadays. 

It would just be the two of them at the breakfast table, crunching on their spoons, five year old Bugsy no doubt dribbling the brown milk down her chin and pyjama top, but she was happy. Because she had her big sister.

She stared down at the dregs of cocoa that whirled into the white milk as the cereal sat there longer, because she was only picking at it really, and it had nothing to do with the fact she was almost certain they had changed the recipe since she was little. 

“I was thinking,” She said after a moment or so, while Spencer pottered around the kitchen, fixing them both a pot of coffee that she usually was usually bouncing over to grab at this point in the morning. Except today she felt sluggish, lost in that maze of thoughts that only Spencer could really unpick, and the second she’d started speaking his head whipped over the counter to where she idly stirred her breakfast, “About what you said when Gideon… We could probably afford to start looking at buying a house soon, what with the mortgage rates dropping,” 

She looked up at him hopefully, hoping he couldn’t sense the hesitation on her breath because he usually knew what she was thinking before she said anything, and for once she wished he didn’t have that crazy ability to read her mind, only to see him with a small if not saddened smile. 

When Gideon had passed, Spencer had gotten in his head that they needed to leave the apartment, that if the Jason Gideon could have been caught unaware, then they weren’t safe either. Of course he hadn’t meant it, at least not entirely, but Gideon passing had spun the logic half of his brain that spouted the statistics that they were no more in danger now than they were before he’d gone, but still it was something he’d been thinking about. A house meant more space; more space meant they could stop tripping over each other's laundry, meant they could get the bigger shower they’d always talked about, maybe even a tub. A house meant the garden he knew he always wanted Niko and Sergio to have now they were grey around the whiskers and couldn’t run so fast. 

“I think that’s a great idea,” Spencer said, picking up their mugs of steaming hot goodness and carefully stepping towards her, gently sliding the drink over to her as the liquid sloshed and threatened to dip over the edge, “Is there any place you want to look?” 

He left his own mug in favour of circling his arms around her shoulders and pulling her in for a soft hug, her head falling beneath his chin where she sat on the barstool. 

Kissing her hairline gently, she heard him inhale her shampoo scent, and she plonked her spoon back in the bowl to wrap her arms around his waist, squeezing herself into every crevice that they weren’t already touching. 

“I don’t care,” She said, tilting her head to look up at him with love sick eyes, only to see him already besottedly gazing at her, and she guessed by the way his lips draw up at the corners that he didn’t realise he was still smiling, “Anywhere with you is good enough for me,” 

He looked down at her in that way he usually did, expression soft and sweet and entranced, but she saw the traces of worry in his gaze, “You feeling okay? Today is going to be… hard,” 

Bugsy’s expression faltered slightly, and she turned away to push her face into his stomach so he wouldn’t see the doubt lingering in her eyes. She nodded anyway, even though she knew he would catch her in the lie.

After Scratch, Hotch had ordered her to take three months off for a psych evaluation, had granted Spencer at least a month of holiday to watch over her because he knew Reid’s head would be all over the place with worry if he’d returned to work without her. It was like asking Garcia to leave her computers and fluffy pens at home; it just wouldn’t work. 

By the time she was cleared to come back, despite the recurring nightmares of that day still eating away at her sleep, Hotch had set her up to work solely from the office, strictly no field work.

He liked to think it was for her own safety, for her own good since he saw the way she pounded coffee like it was juice while Spencer lingered around her with a worried stare. But if he had to be honest with himself, Hotch couldn’t get away from the things Scratch had made him see just as much as she couldn’t. He couldn’t escape seeing her throat slit like she was a lamb for slaughter, the life leaving her eyes as she faded away. And it was the thought of her carotid artery spraying over his boots that made him want to lock her up in bubble wrap and never let her go. 

But that was feasible in their job, not really. So desk duty it was. 

“You don’t have to go with us into the field, you can always stay with Hotch and Garcia,” He offered, stroking her hair behind her ear and tempting her to look back up at him with gentle fingertips under her chin, and when she saw the unease in the muddy hues, she squeezed him tighter, knowing the past five months had been just as hard on him. 

“No, I want to,” She protested gently, her hands weaselling under his shirt and onto the warm, soft skin of his back, pawing at him like a cat trying to settle. “If you’re being made this woman’s number one target, I want to be there on stand by,” 

And he couldn’t really argue. Because no matter what frame of mind he was in, even if it had been him captured and tortured, he would never let her go out as bait and not be there breathing down her neck. 

He sighed, the urge to protest stuck in his throat and all he could think to do was bring his lips to hers gently in a soft kiss, because his resistance to her being put in the line of danger would only be futile. 

She hummed into the kiss, his hands skirting over her back and she swore she would be content if the rest of her life was spent in Spencer’s arms, in the warm mornings at their kitchen table just the two of them, and the idea of that last part spun her stomach into turmoil all over again. 

What if he freaked out? No, scratch that, he was definitely going to freak out. Spencer hated change, hated having things dropped on him, and Diana was already getting worse with the symptoms of Alzheimers she had begun presenting. He had more than enough on his plate as it was, and she knew she was the only thing that could keep his head from exploding with the worry, even if she was sometimes the cause of it. He’s always been a worrier, and part of her despised herself for the fact that he had shot out of bed every single night she’d been in the midst of a night terror, when the room spun and Peter Lewis seemed so real and so close and she woke up screaming. Because she’d brought him enough stress and trouble, and now she had an extra helping of it dished up and ready. 

It wasn’t one of those things she could keep to herself, not even if she so desperately wanted to sit on it and mull it over for a few months. She needed to tell him soon. 

Spencer looked down at her eyes, the way they’d glazed over slightly, and he wished he could crawl into the space where her thoughts bounced between one another if it meant he could figure out what had gotten her so twisted up the past few weeks. She hadn’t been herself entirely since Scratch, but she had been getting better. She’d started getting more sleep, seemed less jumpy when they were in the quiet of their apartment, and part of him thought maybe that was why she wanted to look at houses. A fresh start. And yet overnight, she’d had this guilty look in her eye like she was suddenly a million miles away, and he hated it. Bugsy had never been distant, which seemed odd to think considering she was burying her hands and face into him like she had no intention of letting him leave. But there was something in the depths of her brilliantly big mind that seemed to hold her tongue for her.

He kissed her again, hoping it was all in his head, hoping she wouldn’t keep things from him because it was them and they always told each other everything. Even if it was gross and weird and inappropriate, everything. 

And he thought maybe it was because he was going on a date with another woman, using himself as live bait to flirt and charm and seduce an assassin in order to take her into custody without fuss. Yeah, that was probably it. He couldn’t say he would be all too pleased if it had been the other way around and he would be watching her ravish another man even if it was just for the job. 

That was definitely it. There couldn’t be anything else. 

“You know I love you,” He said as a statement, yet she nodded as though it was a question, and he kissed her again because he’d regretted not doing it a hundred times a day the second he’d seen her in that closet, regretted not seeing the fact she was more than likely uncomfortable with her boyfriend of two years wining and dining a murderer. “Whatever I say when I’m there with her, you know I love you, more than I could ever love anything else,” 

He seemed so sincere, his eyes turning into that soft puppy like frown, and it only served to drive the knife in deeper as she nodded, her hands wrapping into his hair and pulling him down to kiss her again, this time just a little harder like his lips could wipe away the pit in her stomach. Because it was Spencer, and she was lying by omission, and god did she need him to know how much she loved him before things went wrong and they changed and-

“We have a little time right?” She said, his hands taking the hint as they pulled her to her feet gently, cereal long forgotten in a chocolate slush, and his hands reached down to cup her ass in the way he was more than used to doing now. Didn’t stop him from blushing however. 

“Y-yeah we have time,” He said, and she barely let him finish his sentence before she’d claimed his mouth again, not that he was complaining. She looped her fingers through his belt buckle, stepping backwards with his guidance towards their bedroom, and he hummed through a moan when he felt her run the other hand through his already messy bedhead, tugging on the ends of his curls gently.

“Good,” She responded, with a drop of that natural Bugsy cheekiness he was used to, and the sound of it made him smile. Maybe it was just the job after all, “I think I need a demonstration on just how much you don’t mean whatever you need to say to her,” 

He smirked, because she was more like herself than she had been in days, and god was she pretty when she smiled at him before they had sex, like she knew what was coming, like she knew what she did to him. He wouldn’t be surprised if she could hear his heart thumping in her ears just as clearly as he could. 

“I think you’ll need multiple demonstrations,” He said, his fingers looping in between her buttons on her trousers and popping them apart softly because they’d done this before, rushed it so they weren’t late for work, and ended up ripping good jeans, “Gather multiple sets of data before you draw a conclusion,” 

He kissed down her neck and her small laugh became a moan, “I think it’s pretty much the only way, Doctor Reid,”

He laughed, and she felt it against her pulse, the sound of it making her shiver as he shoved the door open with little remorse for the way it slammed into the wall. And she made a promise to herself that once they’d caught their UnSub, she would tell him, even if it meant all of this would change. 

–

He arrived at the restaurant five minutes early, his suit steamed and neat, a single red rose in his hand. His skin was already crawling at the idea of flirting with another woman, but Spencer knew none of it was real, knew he was just doing his job. Still it didn’t diminish the desire to glance where Bugsy and Rossi were sat in a booth, because he’d seen her in that red dress a thousand times before, and yet it still made his jaw drop the second he saw her in it.  

The brief had been black tie, something to fit in with the five star restaurant, and god had she delivered. He ought to have protested, told her that she was too distracting and maybe insisted she stayed in the office if she looked so striking, but then again she could have worn a bin bag for all he cared, he would still be fighting the urge to look over at her. 

He chose the seat with Bugsy at his back as to eliminate his urge to stare at her, because Dave could keep her safe, the rest of his team could watch her, he had to trust that. 

He lay the rose on the other side of the table, fiddling with the other parts of the cutlery to make sure everything looked perfect, even though in his mind he was thinking of all the things Bugsy would have been saying if she was his date tonight. She probably would have made a comment on his suit (she already had before they’d even stepped out the hotel, just as he’d given her arse a quick squeeze with cheeks even more crimson than her dress because she looked divine), probably would have offered to go to the in-and-out down the street instead because she never cared about splashing out on dates, just being with him was enough. 

Adjusting his jacket a little, he waited, trying to keep his head far away from his girlfriend, although that was much easier said than done. He couldn’t remember what his brain was like before it was filled with thoughts of her.

The ring sat in his sock drawer, buried in one of his older pairs that he hoped she wouldn’t go after since he’d made the mistake of putting it in with his boxers and almost got caught within a day when she went to steal some ready for bed and he’d chided himself for the sloppy work. He knew he wanted to ask her, thought he might even bring her to a fancy place like this, maybe prepare a small speech that attempted to tell her how much she meant to him even though he knew there wasn’t enough words for such a thing. Would he hide it in the cake? No that would be cheesy, she found cheesy overdone. Would she even like it done in public? No, she would hate that, he would wait until they got home, maybe even try that thing she’d wanted to do in bed for a few weeks, and then when they were done-

“Spencer?” A woman appeared at the table, a woman who by all accounts was objectively pretty, yet he felt that small kick of victory when he recognised her from the FBI database. 

Cat Adams. Assassin. Mastermind. UnSub. 

“Cat?” He said with practised naivety, and this time he forced all thoughts of his loving girlfriend from his head like they were about to be tainted by the woman standing in front of him, “Hi,”

“Hi,” She replied, her grin too bright and sparkly for anyone to ever guess she was a killer though he supposed that was the point,

“Hello, it’s nice to finally-” He cut himself off when she leaned up to hug him, her face drawing closer to his suddenly and she looked like she was gearing up for a peck on the lips. Forward. Much more forward than he’d given her credit for, and his stomach flipped in discomfort as he leaned away, “Oh s-sorry, I have kind of a germ thing,” He excused, which wasn’t a total lie. 

Also my girlfriend is sat ten feet away and I can already hear her clenching a fork ready to ball your eyes out like a melon, he wanted to say, though he kept his snark to himself. 

“Oh, sorry,” Cat said, holding her hands up in surrender, and looking up at him with what he knew to be false innocence. But he played along, because the sooner they caught her, the sooner he could be done with the entire thing.

“I’m kinda weird with hugs,” He explained, his face boyish as he gestured her to take a seat, because at least then he could put some distance between them, “Please, sit down,”

She smiled dizzily, slipping her jacket off to reveal a blue dress that accentuated her pixie short hair, her collar bones that could cut glass, her small, sleek figure, and she adjusted her straps as an excuse to divert his attention to her breasts.

“That’s like the oldest trick in the book, get some new material, bitch,” Bugsy mumbled under her breath, drowning her venom in sparkling apple juice disguised as champagne from where they sat in a dark corner booth and Rossi chuckled, shaking his head. 

“I wouldn’t worry about boy genius having a wandering eye, kid. Reid is more devout than my mother on Easter Sunday,” He said, picking at the starter they’d ordered as a way to seem busy. She hummed, diverting her attention into her chicken salad, making sure she wasn’t looking at the happy couple for too long as they talked awkwardly, “Do you think you could take her?”

“I know I could take her,” Bugsy responded in a clipped tone, and Rossi sniggered, and they heard Tara and Derek do the same down their earpieces. 

“It was a joke,” Cat said, to something they hadn’t quite caught, though by the looks of it they were still just making small talk, “A bad joke,”

“No, no, it was funny,” Spencer said reassuringly, and he chuckled, though Bugsy knew off the bat it was fake because she loved making him laugh and it sounded nothing like that. They fell into an awkward silence and she could hear Spencer scrambling for things to talk about because if she walked away their lead to the other assassin went right with her. 

“Can we start over? Hi, I’m Cat,” The woman said, fixing her skirt with a shy smile. She certainly didn’t seem like a killer, Bugsy thought, where she glanced at her in her peripheral. She certainly was pretty, spritely even. A little too eager to kiss a guy she just met. 

“Hi, I’m Spencer,” He replied, in that nervous tone he usually got when she flustered him. 

“Is it true you have three PHDs?” Cat asked with, well, cat-like eyes flicking between sly and seductive, and Bugsy could see how any man who wasn’t as smart as her boyfriend would fall for the act.

“Yes, that’s true. I do have three PHDs,” 

“What’s your favourite book you read last year?” She pressed and Bugsy sipped her juice to stop herself from answering for him.

“I’ve honestly never read a book I haven’t loved,” He said, deflecting the subject, while his girlfriend smirked into her almost empty plate. 

Demons by Fydor Dostoevsky, she corrected to herself because she knew he’d gone back to it more than a handful of times. 

“Tell me about your wife,” Cat went in for the kill, her timid smile morphing into something wicked as she watched Spencer squirm. 

And the second she’d said it something had reared its ugly head inside him. Because try as hard as he might, all he could think about was Bugsy’s face and that damn ring. 

“If you don’t mind, I’d er…” He cleared his throat, wondering why it was so difficult to get through a single conversation when they’d ran through the plan a million times. He knew she would ask, and yet all he could do was get defensive thinking about Cat damn Adams setting her hands on the woman he wanted desperately to marry, “I’d rather not talk about her,”

“Might as well get it out in the open right? I mean, it’s why we’re here,” She said smugly, like that innocent bounce in her step had wiped right away, revealing the murderess underneath, “How long have you been married?”

“Four years,” He lied, though he thought back to JJ’s wedding that same amount of time ago and how beautiful she looked in her dress and her cast and how he’d wished it was theirs. 

“When is she due to give birth?” Cat’s eyes narrowed at the man, pushing her hair behind her ear in a playful manner. 

Bugsy stopped, licking her lips and hoping Rossi wasn’t watching her as she finished off the last of her sparkling juice, raising a hand to a passing waiter to order a second round. 

“You having another one, Grandpa?” She said innocently, despite the stink eye he gave her and nodding to the non-alcoholic beer he’d ordered. 

“Watch yourself,” He said as the waiter retreated, and she snickered into her meal, “Grandpa will knock you on your ass,” 

“You would never, Hotch would hate that kind of paperwork,” She said setting her cutlery on the side of her plate to signal she was done, “HR would have a field day,”

“I wanna hear you say it,” The line crackled in their ear as Bugsy’s drink arrived at the table, and she couldn’t help but think the woman’s seductive voice could easily pass for a call girl. She chanced a quick look over at their table, her heart rate spiking when she saw the woman all but eye fucking Spencer with a bit of her lip, like the thrill of the chase was half the fun for her, and Bugsy felt the disgust settle in her stomach. 

“To have her killed,” Spence replied, and she looked away then, the bitterness settling on her bottom lip in a sneer. She didn’t think for one second that Spencer would think the woman was alluring, it didn’t make him flirting any easier to watch. 

The UnSub smiled wryly, looking down at his arm, “Let me see your ring,”

Spencer froze, holding his hand out hesitantly, the feeling of the gold band entirely alien on his finger even though he was trying to get used to it for the sake of the case. Cat’s hand shot out like a snake striking, holding his ring in between her perfectly manicured fingers, her eyes roving over the jewel.

“You know what that is?” She said with contempt, shaking her head, “A noose, only it doesn't kill you all at once it kills you slowly, day by day,” 

And he couldn’t have disagreed more, in fact the only thing that was killing him was the fact he had been dumb enough to wait so long to propose to the woman he loved more than life itself. 

Spencer Reid, dumb and in love.

“You ever feel that way?” She said, ripping him out of his thoughts, and he nodded wordlessly, sighing for effect.

“I feel that way all the time” Except his every day was spent wondering just how he ever got so lucky, how he managed to fall in love with the same woman who gave him apple cake when he couldn’t remember the last real meal he’d had because he was three months deep in an opioid addiction and having her look at him like he hung the damn cosmos. 

“Take it off,” She ordered, and Spencer tried flashing her a surprised if not charmed smile, though his hackles were slightly raised, “As a sign of your commitment. To me,” 

He bit his cheek, knowing better than to argue back if he was playing the part of the down beaten husband, and began twisting the gold ring off his wedding finger, handing it over to her expectant palm. 

“If she sticks to the pattern, she’ll take him to a secondary location and then kill him.” JJ observed, sipping on her mocktail in her own fancy, ruffled dress, shooting Tara and Derek a look where they played the part of a sweet couple on a date. 

“I’d like to see the bitch try,” Bugsy said through a wide fake smile, her face showing no symptoms of anger except the flash of teeth. 

“Don’t worry sweetheart, we’re not letting it get that far,” Rossi added, and the two of them clinked their drinks together in a ringing chink, “Hotch, do you two have a visual?”

Penelope confirmed with a few taps of her keyboard, and Hotch nodded as Spencer confirmed with a small flick of his eyes he could hear the feed, ”Alright, all agents stand by. Dr Reid will give the green light, don’t move until we have it,” 

“Twenty four carats?” Cat asked, twisting the ring in between her fingers with a smug grin like she already knew the answer. 

“Yeah,” Spencer replied, looking down at the band and back up the soulless dark hues of the black widow woman. 

“Twenty four k times… four years. Means this ring should be dinged and nicked, but,” She huffed, reaching into her purse under the table, and Bugsy damn near spat out her juice when she heard a gun load through the mic, “This sucker is brand new. You’re not married.”

“What was that, was that what I think it was?” Penelope’s stressed tone rushed through the ear piece, and the sound of it plus the smell of the chicken she’d just eaten made Bugsy’s stomach turn again. 

Except this time she felt it coming up into her throat, the same way she’d found herself feeling queasy for a few days. Spencer had thought she had a stomach bug, had tried to get her to stay home with some mint tea, but this was more than the last few times. It was like her anxiety clenched her gut in a tight grip and twisted painfully, and she lurched forward, slapping a hand over her mouth. 

“Kid?” Rossi said, his brows frowning at the expression on her face, and she immediately began untucking her napkin from her chest. 

She needed to make it to the bathroom now, hoped on everything that the sudden movement didn’t distract where Cat held a gun to Spencer’s midriff beneath the table. 

“What is she doing?” Morgan hissed into the mic, while Hotch and Penelope began barking protests. 

“Oh, good lord, Bug, stay down, you don’t know what that psycho is going to do!” Penelope squealed, watching Bugsy rush out of the booth seat, a hand firmly over her lips, and Aaron brought a hand to his head, a splitting headache forming at the sight of the youngest agent rushing for the bathroom. 

“Prentiss, what are you doing, you could blow your cover,” He snapped, though there was no anger there, and she could only switch her mic off for what was about to happen, knowing the team had much bigger things to worry about. 

Bursting the doors open, she dived for the nearest stall and fell to her knees, head in the bowl before she could hock up her guts over the floor, and then came a horrid retching sound. 

Spencer’s eyes widened at the table, hearing his team yelling out orders at the one person he couldn’t keep track of, and it took everything in him not to turn in his seat to investigate for himself what happened for her to flee the safety of the table, or go after her even. Because even if he wanted to, even if he needed nothing more than to make sure she was okay, he couldn’t move an inch. Not with the gun being pointed at all of his important organs by the experienced killer with a smile.

“Do you know why I’m so good at my job?” Cat asked in a sweet tone, her eyes cold and calculating as she cocked the gun beneath the seat. 

“Because you kill without compunction or remorse,” Spencer bit, the flirty look in his expression long gone the second he’d heard the rest of his team calling for his girlfriend. He needed to keep his head, Bugsy was safe so long as she was far away from the woman pointing the gun at him. Having the weapon aiming for him he could deal with. 

“That only gets a girl so far in life,” Cat agreed with a nod, her jaw setting in a hard clench, “No, it’s because I think through every possible outcome and then I plan accordingly,”

And Bugsy’s stomach seized hearing her voice so cold and viscous, and she would give anything to hear her partner flirting with that bitch of a woman if it meant she knew he was safe. She emptied her stomach again right as she heard their UnSub speak once more.

“You see, I didn’t walk into your trap. You walked into mine,”

And with that Bugsy gave another hurl.

–

“Spencer, why did you take time off from the FBI?” Cat insisted, her voice nails on a chalkboard, and he felt the apathy on his face flick into slight annoyance. 

Bugsy. Because Bugsy had been ill, because she hadn’t been sleeping, because she hadn’t been herself for a few months, because his mom had gotten worse, because they needed him. 

Spencer would take the bullet before he ever told her about Bugsy, because he knew for a woman who loved male attention, telling her about the girl he loved most in the world would only draw a big target on her back, and he would never dare to put her at risk. Never again. 

Not a single hair on her head, he’d promised. Not even a scratch. 

“You can ask me as many times as you want but I’m still not going to tell you,” He snipped, making sure to keep his face expressionless if he really wanted to sell the deal that she was a nobody to him.

Her mouth tightened in frustration, “Then you’re cheating, and I don’t like cheaters,”

“You don’t get everything you want just because you’re pointing a gun at me under the table.” He stated blankly, his team waiting on bated breath to see if they needed to send in their back up since JJ’s cover had already been blown. “You’re not the first killer to point a gun at me, you’re not even the first woman to point a gun at me. Sorry.” 

Cat’s smile shifted into something akin to a snarl, and she leaned forward on her elbows, and Spencer matched her challenge with cool ease. “You’re really gonna take this all the way, aren’t you?” 

And Spencer smiled wryly, because her composure was collapsing beneath her, “Yeah,”

“So am I,” 

“Dave, go,” Hotch ordered, and Rossi drew his gun beneath a napkin, shuffling to his feet, “Prentiss, where the hell are you?” 

And she knew she was wasting time, but her stomach had picked the worst time to flip. Perhaps it was the anxiety, or the pressure of a gun being pointed at her love, or maybe it was bad chicken. Either way her mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton, her legs weak where she’d crouched on the floor, and she chided herself for not being able to pull it together when Spencer needed her. 

And as if her nerves weren’t rattled enough, she heard Spencer’s mic mute out, and she knew then that the time for sticking her head in the bowl and screaming at herself to get up was over. Spencer was in trouble. Two of their agents' cover was blown. With Tara and Derek sitting the opposite end of the restaurant, he was alone if Cat Adams decided to pull that trigger. 

Spitting the rancid taste from her mouth into the toilet, she reached up for the flush, wiping her mouth with a handful of toilet paper. 

“Hotch,” She tuned in, and she heard the sighs of relief as he and Penelope seemed to both ease slightly at hearing her voice, “I’m back, how’s Rossi?”

“His cover’s blown, he’s heading out to find JJ,” Hotch responded, his heart rate in his throat the second he’d heard her sound through. He knew it would be unfair if he pulled her from field work for another three months, but the second she’d disappeared from their screens, he’d already began thinking of the excuse he could give if it meant he knew she was kept out of harm’s way, “Where are you, are you hurt?” 

“No, no, just,” She cleared her throat, leaving the stall and heading for the sinks, “Bad chicken I guess,”

Taking a handful of cold water up to her mouth, she swilled the liquid around to try freshen herself up, sputtering it back into the sink and running the back of her hand over her lips. 

“Do you need to get out of there?” Hotch asked, the concern thick in his tone, almost as clear as it was on his brow as he leaned in to Penelope’s monitor, “Lewis and Morgan have got eyes-”

“No, I’m not leaving him out there,” She protested, leaning over the sink with an exhausted huff, “I can’t head back to the table, she’ll know I was with Rossi,” 

And as if she had spoken a plea to the universe, one of the waitresses waltzed through the bathroom door carrying glass cleaner and a bunch of fresh toilet paper under her arm, smiling sweetly at Bugsy who seemed like any other patron of their restaurant. 

Her eyes snapped over the girl’s body, figuring she was about the same size, perhaps a tiny bit bigger than herself, she almost audibly heard the click of the idea and before she knew it she had reached out to grab the girl’s attention. 

She just hoped it worked, because otherwise the scolding she was going to receive from Hotch wouldn’t be worth it in the slightest. 

“Here’s what I’m gonna do, I’m gonna penalise you by adding ten minutes because I actually did learn something important.” Cat said with a smirk, her finger flicking over the clock on his phone as she prolonged the countdown, and Spencer squirmed where she shuffled closer to him, close enough that their knees were touching and he could feel where the toe of her heels were teasingly stroking up his calf, like threatening him and his team for information was getting her off. He felt filthy, like he’d need a dozen showers before he fell into his girlfriend’s arms, and part of him considered skipping the whole dinner and speech, asking her the second he saw her again if she would be his wife. 

Because this, having another woman so close, was making him sick. 

“Oh really? What’s that?” He snapped, his patience wearing thin as his lips pressed in a straight line. 

“Your back up, I flushed them out,” She replied with a smirk, looking around the room with an arrogance Spencer wished he could wipe right off of her face, “It’s just me and you now,” 

“Hi, how are we all doing this wonderful evening?” A chirpy voice came from the end of the table, slamming two menus down between them hard enough that their attention snapped to her immediately. Spencer felt his eyes morph into horror, though he fought hard to hide it, as he saw a familiar face, the same one that had been running through his mind since, well, forever. Her red dress was gone, replaced with a maroon shirt and a black pencil  skirt, her hair tied back in a neat bun and she had a pen pushed behind her ear for good measure as she smiled at them tightly. 

Bugsy had really done it this time. 

“My name is Emily and I’ll be your waitress. Can I get you started with some drinks?”

–

“Prentiss, what in god’s name have you done?” Hotch barked, as she waltzed behind the bar, ignoring the looks from the barman that clearly had never seen her working there before. 

“I’m making sure Spencer has back up if she decides to get trigger happy,” She bit back, snagging a pitcher of water from the fridge and two crystalline glasses, placing them on an upturned tray. 

“And what happens if she gets trigger happy towards the waitress that won’t leave them alone?” Morgan snipped, shooting her a look where their table faced the long, walnut coloured bar that wrapped around the back of the establishment. 

“Well then, I guess we pray there’s a doctor in the house that isn't Spencer,” She huffed, plastering a fake smile on her lips, and carefully shuffling the tray onto her palm, “You’re going to have to take me out yourselves if you think I’m leaving him there alone,”

And they huffed, Hotch running a hand through his hair. Because they knew she wasn’t kidding. God help the man who tried to stop Bugsy when she had her mind to something. 

And with that resounding silence, she listened to Spencer’s mic, hoping to catch a foot in to the conversation.

“You should have seen right through me the moment you walked in, but you didn’t,” He said, and she didn’t need to take a glance at Cat’s face to know she was getting more than riled up. Why was she here? What happened to staying with Rossi where it was safe? It was her first day back in the field, what was she doing? He didn’t think he’d ever been so angry, though he knew if he scratched the surface of the feeling he’d find it was fear. And unfortunately for the woman sat opposite him, he’d stopped pulling his punches because of it. “You couldn’t. Because you can’t get to the man you really want to hurt, so you need to hurt every man who reminds you of him,”

Cat’s face flashed with what he could have sworn was hurt, before her eyes steeled back over and she shrugged nonchalantly, as if he hadn’t hit straight home, “That’s kind of boiler plate psychology, isn’t it? I’m just another girl with daddy issues,” 

“You’d be surprised how many killers do what they do because of their parents,” He snapped back, because he couldn’t dare take his eyes from their UnSub, no matter how desperately his gut told him to check on Bugsy. “If it’s so boilerplate, let's test that theory. How hard did you look for him?”

Her mouth screwed up in bitterness, “Very hard,”

“And how disappointed were you when you realised you will never find him?”  Spencer drove the knife in deeper, watching Cat’s resolve fade under his hateful stare, “You needed some other outlet for your rage and for a while this worked, but it also tripped you up,” 

And Bugsy stopped, because Spencer always had a way of saying the exact right thing that made her brain tick into genius, like everything about him made her the best version of herself even if he didn’t mean to. That was what tripped her up. Her father. 

“Hotch, it’s her dad,” She murmured, flashing a couple of customers an easy smile as she took the plates off their table, because Cat would catch on way too fast if she seemed to be the only person not be doing a job, “That’s what she wants, that’s her endgame,” 

And there was only a single second between them, before Hotch caught up to that wonderfully big brain of hers, “Serial killers with an endgame will do anything to get to them, even if it means taking themselves down with it,”

“Why would I make you sit here for thirty minutes?” Cat’s voice crawled down her ear piece as she burst through the kitchen doors, dumping the plates at the pot wash and looking to where JJ and Rossi were talking with the manager. 

“Because you’re stalling,” Spencer said, though he didn’t have that usual tone that told her he was sure of himself, and she knew from the direction it was going that something was missing. They’d missed something, otherwise they’d have Cat in cuffs by now.

“Then you don’t know me at all,” She hissed back, and Bugsy shook her nerves out through her fingers, peeking at where they were sat through the thin glass pane on the door, “Do you think I would show up here without an escape plan. Or is that just what another girl with daddy issues would do? Maybe if you hadn’t fallen victim to your own gender bias, and yes all men have gender bias, even you Dr Reid, you would have recognized that your entire strategy was based on one faulty detail. Can you see it?” 

Spencer paused, his frown shifting on his face, “You’re not here alone,” 

“And my partner? Less paranoid than you think,” She said, and by the sounds of it the smirk was back on her face, and Bugsy fought the sneer twitching at her lips. 

“You planted a bomb in the building,” Came Spencer's response, the grave realisation setting all three agents into motion. JJ’s head whirled to where their youngest stood by the door, her eyes widening at her partner’s words. 

And for a second she wanted to beg Bugsy to take cover outside, to get out while she still could, because it had been a miracle the last time a building had exploded around her and she’d only broken a few bones. JJ didn’t think she could stand to grieve her for good, not the girl who had already gone through so much for them. All because they had missed it. 

But she knew better, knew Bugsy would fight tooth and nail to stay if Spencer was still in the building. Knew that that argument would only be futile, a waste of time, because the Prentiss girl was not leaving. 

“We’ll go check it out, you stay put,” JJ ordered, drawing her gun to her side as Rossi did the same and Bugsy nodded, “Don’t do anything stupid, don’t draw attention to yourself, Spencer knows what he’s doing,” 

And Bugsy paused before she answered, choosing to give them a slow nod because she already had a good idea of what her next move would be, and it absolutely did not involve staying put. 

Like hell she would stay put while he was there. 

With that, JJ and Rossi turned on their heel to head for the stairs leading underneath the building, and Bugsy picked the tray back up, right as Lewis burst through the revolving doors, a serious look on her primped face. 

“We need to evacuate,” Tara said, and Bugsy nodded, flicking a look behind her to where the rest of the kitchen seemed to be waiting on their order, because the second JJ had flashed the FBI badge, they had frozen.

“You get the customers out safely, I’m going to buy us some time,” Bugsy said, and Tara watched her slip through into the restaurant, the tray pressed against her stomach. 

This was stupid. Stupider than she’d ever been, but her thoughts struggled to make sense whenever Spencer was in trouble. And it was like she saw the splash of his brains against the table, the same way she’d seen it in Lewis’s house all on the ceiling, like she could see now just what his organs would look like when Adams shot him however many time in the abdomen. 

She couldn’t think like that. They would be okay, they would figure it out together, they always did. They always managed to put their heads together when they were in trouble. 

Being in danger together seemed like a much better bet than having to watch the love of her life killed in the middle of this damn restaurant because she hadn’t done anything. She wanted to do everything with him for the rest of her sorry life, and if that meant sitting at the nozzle end of a pistol with him, then so be it. 

She just hoped he would forgive her quickly. 

“All we want to do is-” She heard Spencer begin, the other waiters filtering out of the kitchen with shaken looks on their faces, as they carefully slipped their patrons the bill that had already paid off, asking them to leave calmly and quietly. 

“Minimise collateral damage, I get it, I’m not mad,” Cat snapped back, rolling her eyes, “It’ll give me the cover I need to slip out. I just need to know it’s clear, so do me a favour and tell your boss that nobody leaves until its safe for me to do so,” 

Spencer chewed his tongue. He couldn’t let her leave, not when they had her so close, not when they were pursuing Penelope, not when they were so close to catching the woman responsible for so many kills. 

Spencer hated losing, he hated knowing that she was about to get away because he had been too wrapped up in his overwhelming thoughts to figure out her plan, too busy fretting over the two women who meant the most to him to think ten steps ahead like he usually did. 

He’d been sloppy, even though he knew he should cut himself some slack. His fiancee, girlfriend, had been tortured, his mother facing a different kind of terror in her mind altogether. He hadn’t been thinking about work, he’d been thinking of the house they were going to buy with the picket fence and the porch swing and the mortgage, and the damn ring-

“Well?” Cat’s goading voice ripped him out of his reverie, and he huffed in defeat, “Spencer?”

“You can leave,” He murmured, the agitation scratching at his skin because he was struggling to think of a final card to play. He was usually so good at games, usually won every single one of them. But his head couldn’t settle when Bugsy wasn’t near, when he couldn’t make sure she was safe. 

Cat shuffled out of the side of the booth, her eyes flicking across the restaurant for her contact, and Spencer had barely opened his mouth in protest before he watched the UnSub walk straight into a waitress, a false smile slipping on her face as to not raise alarm. 

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was-” And yet his breath hitched when he spotted the hair he’d ran his fingers through just that morning yanked into a bun, the lips he could kiss for an entire lifetime curled in disdain, the body he worshipped refusing to move out of the way for the woman in a hurry. 

And it seemed Cat only realised that the woman who had brought them water wasn’t a waitress at all, despite her plain face that had faded into the background, despite the fact Spencer hadn’t given her a second glance; Only when she heard a gun cocking behind the serving tray at her stomach did the fake smile drop from Cat Adams face. 

Because she hadn’t flushed out Spencer’s back up. Not while Bugsy was still alive and breathing. 

“Sit back down,” Bugsy growled, keeping her tone low but with enough bite that Cat’s eyes narrowed to hide the surprise. 

“Well, well, seems I hadn’t planned for everything, I thought a pretty face like you would know better than to pull a gun on a woman with her finger on the big red button,” Cat said wryly, though Bugsy caught her eyeing up her chest as if to be checking for a bullet vest, “Move out the way, sweetheart. You don’t want this to get ugly,”

Spencer’s jaw flexed as he ground his teeth, though he kept his breathing even. What was she doing? 

He didn’t care that he had no more power over her than anyone else on the team, he wanted to drag her out of the room himself if it meant she would stop throwing herself in the way of danger. 

“Unfortunately, sweetheart, that’s not happening.” Bugsy snapped back, her expression melting into something rogue, something teasing as she leaned towards Cat with a challenge in her eyes. “You’re going to sit back down, and I’m going to show you exactly why you should have accounted for a pretty face like me,” 

“You’re stalling,” Cat snickered, trying to push past the waitress, who wasn’t a waitress at all but an FBI agent, only for her hand to shoot out and grab her wrist, tossing the tray on the table. 

Spencer felt his heart lurch into his throat as he saw both of them pull their guns to waist height, a blink and you’d miss it kind of movement, and it was like he’d seen the game set and matched then and there. 

Bugsy wasn’t backing down. And neither was Cat.

“I make it a habit of knowing what kind of women are going on dates with my boyfriend,” Bugsy’s hand tightened around her wrist, watching the surprise flicker in the woman’s eyes, and she scoffed, “What? You really thought all that flirting and nervous glances were real?”

And the woman said nothing, her ego clearly a little hurt, though Bugsy was just sticking to the profile, and the profile said she revelled in male attention. 

“Cat got your tongue?” Bugsy snipped through a grin, even if her chest was pounding at the feeling of the gun pointing at her abdomen, “Well, lucky for you I have a present for you. On the condition you sit back down and play my game,” 

“You think I’m going to fall for that shit?” Cat seethed. It was one thing to outsmart a man, that was fair game, that was easy pickings for a woman like her. But a woman, a woman who seemed to love playing with her food as much as she did. That was different, “What is it, a reduced sentence? The good TV in my two by four cell? You can keep dreaming, I don’t want your worthless promises,” 

“I’d hardly call your daddy dearest worthless,” Bugsy mused, and she watched Cat’s expression falter, “A dead beat drunk maybe, but worthless? A little harsh considering you waited so long to meet him,” 

Cat paused, eyes flicking over the woman’s face for any signs of a lie, “You have my father?”

And Bugsy smirked, “Do I look like I’m bluffing?” But her face was set in stone, and Cat hated to admit she seemed too confident to be lying, “Why don’t you make this a little easier for everyone and sit back down. I’m not done with you yet,”

The murderess scowled, her shoulders straightening as she ripped her wrist out of Bugsy’s grip and retreated back to the booth. 

And it was only then that Bugsy looked at Spencer, his eyes wide in a horrid mix of terror and rage, and it was a sight she swore she never wanted directed at her again. But she couldn’t leave him, he had to understand that. Because if all the bets were off, if all the cards were dealt, she knew he would need to be dragged screaming from the building before he left her to deal with a hostile UnSub alone. 

And Spencer knew that too, of course he knew that. Yet it didn’t diminish the sickening worry bubbling up in his chest as the women sat down at the table, and their game had a playing field. 

“So, I take it this is the darling wife you wanted killed,” Cat sneered, and Spencer didn’t dare take his eyes off the woman with the gun, even if Bugsy did have one pointed right back at her, “I don’t blame you, I’d want to be rid of her too,”

And they both knew it was a dig, a stab in the interest of getting them both riled up. But it wouldn’t go far. Because despite the anger Spencer felt dwindling in his chest, he always worked better with her. Like a puzzle piece in the tangle of his mind had clicked into place, and suddenly they were a team again, and she seemed more like herself than she had in months, an ease about the way she leaned back in the plush seat despite the fact her finger was resting on the trigger. 

“Have you ever played Cat’s cradle?” Bugsy asked her, knocking her knee against his as if she’d heard his thoughts. They were together in this. Together. Even if the building went up in flames and bullets and the plan went to shit. Just the two of them, the way they’d always been. 

And he felt himself ease back too, something akin to security shifting over him. They always were safer together. 

Cat’s eyebrows raised as Bugsy dodged her comment, “What, do you want to braid my hair like sixth graders, too? What about it?” 

Bugsy shrugged, reaching over with her free hand to the glass of water she’d set down for the two of them, “The way I see it, Cat, you have got those little paws caught in yarn and are scrambling to get out of it,” She chuckled, taking a quick sip, “Now, if we were to let you go, you’d end up walking out of here scot free, and who knows, might even blow up the whole building anyway. But, if we help you out of this little tangle you’ve got us all in, then maybe we cut a deal that doesn’t involve all of us going out in a ball of flames and champagne. Sounds good right?”

The woman’s lips pursed tightly, her head tilting in annoyance, “Alright. Get on with it, no one likes a show off. How did you find my father?” 

Bugsy smirked, “Well that was pretty easy once you have access to the files we have. We traced your birth record to a Daniel Adams, who did in fact leave the country in 1987 but returned in 2012. Based on confidential records in rehabs and sober living houses, which in turn pointed us to flophouses and soup kitchens.” 

The brunette’s eye twitched, like the girl had just spat in her face, which was what it felt like, and she felt the taste of her own medicine was just as sour as she’d always presumed. 

“He couldn’t put twenty four hours together sober, sweetheart,” Bugsy summarised, shrugging her shoulders as if it was no big deal to her, just another bum on the street, “You can probably imagine our surprise to find that he lives here in DC,”

“Where?” Cat hissed, and Bugsy snickered, shaking her head and taking another sip of her water. 

“I’m an agent, not a miracle worker. It wasn’t that simple,” She replied, boredly tracing her finger over the restaurants emblem they had printed on the napkin, “I found him on the street, showed him your picture and said I’d like to ask him some questions about his darling daughter,”

Cat’s lip pulled down in annoyance, her matt red lipstick smudging with her pout, “And?”

And perhaps Bugsy was being cruel. Perhaps she was playing into the profile that indicated Cat needed someone to match her wit and zeal if she was going to listen. Men, she could squash like bugs. Bugsy, ironically, not so much. 

Perhaps she was thinking about how she’d reached into Spencer's pants to retrieve his gun, and wanted some of what she was saying to hurt. 

“He didn’t even know he had a daughter,” Bugsy said simply, with a small shrug of her shoulders, and she watched the woman’s onyx brown eyes glisten with unshed tears as the realisation crashed on her, "Didn't really seem to care,"

“He-he didn’t remember me?” Cat asked, the tease that had been there half an hour ago wiped clear from her tone, and Bugsy shook her head. 

“Nope,” She said, popping the last syllable, “Alcoholism really rocks your brain. Sorry, honey,”

Adams scoffed, shaking her head with venom, “You’re not sorry. Sorry is what people say when they don’t understand,”

And Bugsy’s brows raised, a bitter empathy flicking in her gaze. Quick, but not so quick that Cat didn’t catch it, and she shuffled in her seat. 

“Oh,” Their UnSub paused, the trodden down look on her face rekindling with interest, “But you understand, don’t you? What, does your father like a good beer or ten, princess?” 

Bugsy snickered emptily, “Ofcourse I understand,” She said, leaning over the table to hold the woman’s glare, because like hell would she back down just because Cat was treading on home ground, “I haven’t spoken to my father in five years. He picked the hot wife and holidays to Aruba over his little girl and he thought a new pony or two would make up for all the times he forgot Christmas. I can’t even remember the last time he sent me a birthday card on time, and yeah he was a bit of a mean bastard once he'd had a whiskey,” She shook her head with contempt, and she felt Spencer knock his knee against hers gently, but she only watched the viper woman with careful eyes. And to her shock, Cat seemed like she understood her, like she had some kind of respect for her telling the truth. “Don’t look so surprised. I’m very good at making sure old guys like that get what’s coming to them. Or is that just what another girl with daddy issues would do?” 

Cat’s face seemed to shrivel in frustration when she heard her words repeated back to her, “Is that really why you came here today? To help me?” And Bugsy tilted her head, knowing their UnSub was running out of time, that her window of opportunity was closing with the patrons of the restaurant getting antsy to leave. “Do you know how many men have told me they want to help me?”

Letting her expression smooth into empathy, she leaned forward, her tone dropping into a hushed murmur, “That may well be true, sweetheart, but from where I’m sitting, I’m not a man,” 

And Cat paused, something like regret drifting over her face, before she spoke again, “Do you want to know how that worked out for them?” 

And with that, JJ and Rossi watched the C4 charge’s switch to green, indicating their line was live and ready to blow. 

“Hotch, she just armed the bomb,”

Bugsy’s expression dropped an inch, the sight of it making Cat’s lips curl into a cheshire smile. 

“You’re not the only one with a loyal partner, honey,” 

But the Prentiss woman was quick on her heels, watching Morgan and Tara rise from their place at another booth, heading towards a woman sitting at the bar on her phone, and she forced her lips together to stop herself from looking too smug to cause suspicion. 

“It seems so,” Bugsy agreed with a nod, handing her gun off to Spencer beneath the table. 

If he was confused, he didn’t show it, probably because he trusted that big brain of hers with everything in him, even if he was mad enough he could feel the annoyance oozing from his hot cheekbones. Yet to the rest of the restaurant, Cat Adams, included she hadn’t moved an inch. 

“But, there is one thing I can guarantee about this partner of yours,” She said, leaning over to pour herself another glass of water casually. 

Cat hummed in content, “Oh, right? What’s that?”

And Bugsy smirked, barely raising the glass to her lips as Morgan pounced on the Bomber, ripping the phone out of her hands and causing the patrons around her to yelp, “She’s sure as shit not as clever as me and my husband,” 

Cat’s head whirlled around to see her partner’s face slamming into the hard wood of the bar, Tara yanking the cuffs from her belt, and she barely had time to flick back to the two agents facing her before a pitcher of ice cold water was thrown in her eyes, her thick mascara running down her cheeks and blurring her vision. Spencer dove over the table and grabbed her gun from her grasp as Bugsy ripped her out of the booth with rough hands. 

She threw her to the ground in the few seconds she was disorientated, her hands tightening around her wrists as make shift cuffs, and she saw Spencer hurrying to grab the real things from his pockets. 

“That was a cheap shot, you’re a cheater, you said you’d play fair,” Cat barked, her cheeks pressing against the rough carpet as the agents cuffed her, ignoring her protests and shoves. 

“Honey, this is me playing fair,” Bugsy snapped with a cruel smirk, “You threatened my friends, you stuck your hand in my boyfriend’s pants, and pointed a gun at him. Believe me I could have done so much worse,” 

And with that Cat Adams was hauled off the ground by the two of them, as they led her out to the police van waiting outside the restaurant. 

–

The doors pulled open, empty, and Cat’s face dropped, because her only silver lining on the entire outcome had been that she’d be able to meet the dead beat dad that ran out on her. 

That agent’s face had been so genuine as she’d said it. It had seemed so real, and yet… 

“You lied to me,” She said as Bugsy set her down on the bench, Spencer pulling another set of handcuffs from his belt and the two of them looked up at her, her lashes lining with disappointment. 

“If it helps, we really did try to look for him.” Spencer said, his tone blunt because she had a crazed look in her eye he didn’t like one bit the second she stared at his girlfriend.

And even though she was the one in chains, heading for prison for a twenty year sentence at the minimum, she laughed. Cackled. 

“It doesn't matter anyway, I still won,” She said, that venomous gaze turning to Spencer because she had learned atleast two thing in the time she’d been sat with the two agents that ruined her life. 

One. Spencer’s mother had Alzheimers, that he hadn’t been lying about. That she was sure was too real to be a story he’d pulled out his ass. 

Two. The girl wasn’t phased by insults or bites or cruel words directed towards her. Yet when it was at Spencer…

“How do you figure that one?” Bugsy said, her brow furrowing as she shook her head at the woman.

“In ten years, Mommy dearest won’t remember anyone’s name,” Bugsy’s head shot up at that, her lips curling into a snarl, and she forced her fingertips into her palm to stop herself from throwing a slap at the woman’s face, “But I’ll remember yours,” 

Bugsy daren’t react, no matter if her chest boiled in anger at the woman’s callous words. Spencer had to give that information up, give a small bit of his soft underbelly to get the woman to trust him enough not to shoot. 

And she couldn’t exactly blame him when he rose to his feet, darting out of the van with a clenched jaw, because the day had been an entire shit show, and she knew by the growl of annoyance he let out that their was a big conversation looming over her head, one she could only see ending in a fight.

It was just the two of them in the van, Cat entirely bound to her seat, and her painted lips had pulled into a grin the second he’d stormed off, her sleek eyes snapping to Bugsy who looked ready to slit her throat. 

“Oh, come on Princess, it was tit for tat,” Cat shrugged as if she didn’t seem destroyed, “You took my dad from me, I guess I had to do the same for that hubby of yours,”

Bugsy looked down at her, swallowing her rage with a purse of her lips, feeling her breath rattle with unfiltered animosity.

“You’d make a shit profiler, for what it’s worth. What you profiled about him was all off,” She snarled, stepping away from the woman and looking down at her as if she was shit on the bottom of her shoe, “At least he’s going to make a better father than the bum who would rather sleep on concrete than know you,”

And with that she slammed the doors closed behind her, darting off on Spencer’s heel. 

+1. The one where she tells him.

She saw his stress lines, the way the day’s events had weighed heavy on him. He sat on the sofa, his shoes thrown by the door after a tense drive home, and she'd found a space on the coffee table in front of him.

He was quiet, he had never been quiet with her, not in the years since they’d kissed that first time in her room. He wasn’t one for the silent treatment, she knew that much. Yet he was just that. Silent.

“Are you mad at me?” She asked, her voice that of a child as her brows scrunched together in worry. She felt the words bubbling in her throat, the thing she’d needed to tell him for a week gnawing at her tongue, crawling it’s way out, only she worried that after what she had done, he might just be ten times more annoyed at her throwing herself in the line of danger. 

He stayed quiet for a moment, and she thought this might turn into their first real fight in the two and bit years they’d been together. Her skin went cold at the words that loomed over them, and she knew by the way he sighed alone he was pissed. 

“You can’t do that,” He said, his voice a restrained bite, and he shook his head for good measure, “You can’t put yourself in the way of danger again, I can’t do that again, not after Scratch.” 

Her throat closed up with tears, and she glanced at him, her fingers itching to take his warm hands in her own, her body begging to preen into him, have him kiss her and tell her he wasn’t mad, that he still loved her, that everything was okay. But he wouldn’t. Not because he didn’t feel any of that, of course he still loved her, but the wet that lined his lashes told her all she needed to know. That seeing what Scratch had done to her had scared him enough that even the idea of her coming close to a hostile UnSub with a loaded gun, that straying from the plan that was designed to keep everyone safe, had tipped him into a grey area that had him both wanting to hold her close and never let her go whilst yelling at her in that broken cadence to show her just how hurt he was. 

“I’m sorry, I just-” She choked, her eyes becoming watery and pathetic and she hated crying during arguments, not wanting to look weak but that was exactly how she felt. Weak. Like she had no backbone to lean on because she knew she shouldn’t have intervened, but the snake-like woman undressing her boyfriend with her eyes while cocking a weapon at him had pushed her over the edge. 

“Oh, you’re sorry, that makes it much better,” Spencer shook his head, furrowing his brows and it was only when he leaned forward that the salty hot tears dribbled down his cheek. “You- you can’t just do that, Bugsy, you know that right?”

She nodded, the words building in her trachea like word vomit, like she wanted to scream the confession at him that she should have given him the second she’d found out. “I know, I’m sorry,” She said again, her words entirely warbled with guilt because she’d never seen him so distraught, and she thought back to the horror that had spread on his face when she’d sat down. 

“You can’t do that to me, sweetheart, do you understand?” His tone had shifted, something a little softer and he grabbed her hands tightly when her shoulders hunched together, and she leaned forward to try to hide her cries in her lap, sitting silently like a scolded child, “What were you thinking? You just got back into the field today, you could have been hurt, you could have gotten someone else hurt-”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” She sniffled, her expression truly guilty, because everything he was saying was exactly true, she could have gotten him shot. “I didn’t think, I wasn’t thinking, I just was worried that…” She trailed off, her heart rate spiking when the words almost slipped from her tongue. She couldn’t tell him, not like this.

“What?” Spencer pressed, because he didn’t like the look of whatever had just passed over her face, and she shook her head in denial, “Bug, tell me,” 

“No, I can’t,” Her breath clogged in her chest, coming out in a shaky rattle, and it was then that he leaned forward even more, trying to dip his head down to catch her eye, "Not like this,"

“Please tell me,” He begged, his eyes still stinging where another wave of tears threatened to burst at the seam when she shook her head again, her chin pressing down into her chest because he hated this. He hated arguing with her. “I’m sorry I yelled, I didn’t mean to, honey, I just got- worried.”

“I know,” She said quietly through another sniffle, rubbing her cheek on her shoulder to dry it, “I know, I’m sorry I didn’t think it through I just,” She took a deep breath, because she knew she needed to tell him, knew there was no more running from it. 

He lifted a palm to her cheek, his thumb skirting under her eyelashes, and he forced himself together because he could never stand to see her cry, not when it was partially his fault, “What?” 

“I just can’t do this without you,” She murmured, her heart in her throat, and it only made it difficult to swallow. She chanced a look at Spencer, his eyes wet and red and worried as she continued, “I can’t be the one to tell this kid their dad died because I didn’t do anything,” 

“What..” He started, his brows immediately falling into a frown as he looked at her. She swore she could hear every single contraction of her heart muscles in her ears, the blood rushing through her veins making it sound like waves crashing on a shore right in her eardrum. 

“It’s still fixable,” She jumped in, before he could say anything, like she needed to justify immediately what she’d said, or even just talk to fill the silence because she hated not knowing what he was thinking, “It’s only five weeks along, I still have time to… fix it-”

“Five weeks- you-you’re pregnant?” Spencer’s eyes were wide, with horror or shock she had no idea, nor did she want to find out judging by the way he had turned pale, reading between the lines, “W-What- fix it? Is that what you want to do?” 

She stopped, because he seemed to be keeping a lid on his emotions, trying his hardest to sound calm and somehow that made it all the more worse. Because she would rather him get angry, or get frustrated and tell her this was too soon, or tell her there was no way he was ready to be a father, because at least then the pressure of it wasn’t on her back to decide for both of them. 

But he would never, and she didn’t know why she’d ever second guessed him. He wasn’t yelling, or turning away, or leaving her the second things got tough, because it was Spencer. And Spencer would never. Spencer gave her the choice of what she wanted to do. 

She stopped, her lungs suddenly feeling just that bit tighter, as she shrugged pitifully, and she thought this was perhaps not the most ideal way to tell someone you’re pregnant, “I-I don’t know, I think…” She stopped, because what did she think? She’d been so wrapped up in worrying about what Spencer would think, worrying about his mom and her nightmares and Cat God Damn Adams that she hadn’t even let herself entertain the thought of a little them. 

But if she said she didn’t like the idea of a little boy with Spencer’s hair and glasses and smile, if she said she couldn’t see the photo album his mom had handed her full of pictures of their kids butt naked and watering the flower beds, she would be a liar. 

“I think… it would take a lot of work, I mean it’s a baby for christ sakes, Bugsy, of course it’ll take work,” He nodded slowly as she chided herself, but she felt his hands tighten on hers, and the tiny gesture gave her the encouragement she needed. She took another breath, that boy with brown curls and her eyes in a jedi costume flashing through her head, “But.. I think having a mini you is everything I could have ever wished for,” 

His lip quivered for a minute, and she worried she’d said the wrong thing. And then…

He smiled, wider than she’d ever seen him, like she could count every single one of his teeth, and she copied him despite the way a frog leapt into her throat, and she saw his eyes line with a fresh set of tears. 

“Really, we’re really doing this?” Spencer asked, quietly, like someone could hear them, or perhaps he couldn’t believe himself even as he said it. He thought his chest was about to explode, thought his heart could never love someone so much as he loved her, thought it would never beat the same way again as it had before he’d been told he was going to have a baby with the woman he’d been in love with for nearly nine years. She nodded, her shy smile turning into something happy, maybe even excited as he pulled her in for an achingly sweet kiss, his hands cupping her cheeks as he kissed her lips over and over and over again, ignoring the salt that trapped in her skin, and he realised then he had started crying just as much as she had. Two wailing saps sitting in their living room, happier than they’d ever dreamed they were allowed to be. “I love you, I love you, I love you more than anything, I was so stupid, I’m so sorry I shouted-” 

She chuckled, shaking her head, and drawing him back in for a long, silencing kiss, “I was stupid, very stupid.” Bugsy said, the weight lifting off her chest like a dumbbell had been moved, and she could breath again. Because Spencer kissed her like he wanted to merge their bodies into one, like he didn’t care for breath anymore as long as he had her lips on his, and she couldn’t help think if that was what he thought of her too, “No more being stupid from either of us. Kid’s got to have at least one smart parent,“

He smiled, enough joy in his eyes to make her think she was handing him the universe. And yet that was exactly how he felt. Like everything he dreamt of as a kid, when he was in his room wishing his dad had stayed because sometimes looking after his mom was tough on a twelve year old, or when he’d held Henry for the first time and thought maybe he wouldn’t be terrible at it by the time it was his turn. 

He looked at Bugsy, the idea of their kid growing inside her, about the size of a petit pois pea at five weeks, and Spencer damn near felt like he’d won the lottery. 

And all thoughts of Cat Adams were gone from both of their minds, the viper woman she wished she had gotten a good right hook to when she’d had the chance entirely unimportant now. 

Because they were going to be a family, more so than they already were. And Bugsy felt as though she couldn’t love Spencer any more than she already did, but she could love his baby more than she’d ever thought possible. 

--

taglists:

@littlemadamred  @stainedpomegranatelips  @mcntsee  @release-your-sweets @smileykiddie08  @caramelised-onions  @the-tpd-bau  @stephthepeach @sunflowersndpeaches  @sammy-4103  @starmansirius  @yeonalie  @delusionallooney  @sadbae-33  @mdanon027  @swag13r  @frickin-bats @bilesxbilinskixlahey  @mindfullycriminal  @mrsbellastyles  @imagines--galore  @bluejaysaysstuff  @imaginexred  @flow33didontsmoke  @spicyspirit  @mywellspringoflife  @lovelyygirl8  @pleasantwitchgarden @rosylnsworld  @jamieolivia27 @halcyonwithletters  @waywardhunter95 @ineedtosusoutmyreadinglist  @theoraekenslover  @niktwazny303  @alyeskathewave  @yondiii  @cultish-corner  @lllucere  @escapismurmom @stillhere197  @hiireadstuff  @queermaxwooo  @telengraph  @ivyflowers13 @estrela-rogers  @busy-buzzing

[rawflwrs]

ONESHOTS / masterlist

▐ aaron pierre ୫ black!oc

summary: when saniah and aaron go on their annual picnic to commemorate the first time they fell for each other

warning: suggestive sexual content. fluff & a bit of angst

Red stained glossy lips, wispy lashes, vanilla scented body butter, gold jewellery, the smell of morning rain. Saniah loved the summer so dearly. It was the only season that cleared her of any lingering melancholy.

Having to handle the loss of a court case she was fighting to win, not only to bring justice to her client, but to prove to herself and everyone that she was worthy of having the title of an attorney general: Saniah felt worthless. Her mother would always tell her she was too hard on herself, although Saniah would argue that she simply wanted to be nothing more than a winner because her academic validation wouldn’t allow her be anything less.

It seemed like everything made her feel as though she was less deserving than the next person. All she wanted to do most days was lay in bed, cry and maybe binge watch a couple episodes of ‘girlfriends.’ However, today was not the day.

June 22nd.

She never thought that she would get so excited seeing a date pop up on her calendar, but today was a day full of core memories for her. June 22nd was the day she fell for her now husband, Aaron. Saniah remembers the day they confessed their love for one another like it was yesterday; always replaying that moment in her head when she feels down or when she begins to degrade herself unknowingly.

Aaron made her feel worthy. Sure, she’s had her fair share of boys come and go in her life because I mean Saniah was a gorgeous woman. Some would say her voice sounded like the princesses of fairytales you read about, her eyes glistened like oozing honey and her lips could be mistaken for pillows. But Aaron made her feel so different . . . He was a man.

A man who wanted to cater to her in every way possible. Whether it was rubbing her feet after work, carrying her bag and the groceries inside or simply replacing her body care, hair care and makeup products when he notices they are nearly finished. He loved taking care of her and she loved being taken care of.

As Saniah walked out of their shared bathroom into their bedroom, rubbing EOS Vanilla Cashmere body lotion on her arms, she saw her chocolate brown maltipoo, Coco, jumping around her husband who was holding a big bouquet of red roses, sitting with his legs spread on their bed. She smiled as she slowly approached him.

“And who are these for?” She teased, rubbing the back of his head, kneeling to smell the roses. “For my girls.” He smiled, looking between Saniah and Coco as she giggled. “You’re too sweet to me. Isn’t your daddy sweet, Coco?” Saniah asked rhetorically, watching their dog bark as though she understood her.

“I only give what you deserve, baby.” He paused, placing the flowers to his side before pulling Saniah to straddle his lap and wrap his arms around her waist. She leaned down to press her lip against his, feeling his hand rise up behind her back, placing his ring finger down the middle of her spine, pushing upwards. She gasped, allowing him access to push his tongue into her mouth as they fought for dominance. His touch. His touch said so many things without saying a single word and she loved it.

He pulled away to stare at the mess he created. Her red lip gloss smothered across her chin, her eyes watery as though she was hungry for more. Aaron was convinced he loved seeing her like this more than anything: desperately needing him. “Happy anniversary, my love.” She said in an almost whisper tone. He pushed a strand of her freshly bleached curls behind her ear with his right hand, pressing his left thumb down on her clothed clit. “Happy anniversary, beautiful.” He smiled, gently rubbing her clothed clit in a circle.

“Aaron . . .” She breathed out, eyes shut. “I need you.” Her admission almost sounded like a plea. Aaron simply smiled and removed his hands from her, giving her one last peck before tapping her thigh as a signal for her to stand up. As he stood, looking down at his needy wife, he said “we have all the time in the world for that. Let’s not forget what today is about.” However, Saniah’s reaction wasn’t necessarily appreciative as she sighed, wiping her chin, grabbing her flowers and moving past him to go downstairs to wait in his car, mumbling a mouthful of curse words on her way out.

He laughed, grabbing Coco, closing all the lights in their room and walking down the stairs towards the kitchen where he had left the basket with all of Saniah’s favourite snacks that he packed for their picnic. He walked to his car, opening the passenger side so he could place Coco on Saniah’s lap, giving her a peck on her forehead. “Don’t get bratty with me because I won’t give you this dick right now.” He joked, but Saniah just stared, clearly sexually frustrated. “Don’t speak like that in front of my daughter.” She covered Coco’s ears, causing him to give her one of his notorious deep chuckles and close her side of the door.

He got into the driver side, leaning over to the backseat to place the basket behind them. Aaron knew Saniah could never stay mad at him for long because they were both too down bad for each other that they couldn’t help themselves. The drive to the beach was peaceful. They both hummed to ‘sweet love’ by Anita Baker, with Coco asleep in Saniah’s lap. She loved small moments like this that may seem insignificant to others, but to her it reminded her of the little family she’s building with the man she loves so deeply.

“We’re here.” Aaron expressed calmly with a clear expression of excitement laced in his voice. “You girls find a good spot for us while I grab everything.” He placed a kiss on top of Saniah’s head and rubbed Coco’s ear before hopping out and grabbing all the extra necessities he packed earlier for them. Watching from a distance, he saw Saniah pick the perfect spot, not too close or too far from the sea.

Aaron approached them with his hands full, placing all his items down to lay the blanket down. Saniah sat down with her legs placed on the outer edge of the blanket. “Come here.” Aaron motioned pulling her legs towards him, removing her sandals. “I’m surprised you let me walk by myself.” Saniah joked. “You know you love this. Stop playing with me.” Aaron laughed, smacking her plush thighs.

After he placed her sandals to the side of her, he put all the food and drinks down neatly, knowing she would want to take a picture to show her friends. “This is so cute!” Saniah squealed, grabbing her digital camera taking a picture. “Let me take one of you before the sun goes down.” He motioned for her to give him her camera while she began to pose. He took a couple pictures of her and of the scenery around them, then handed the camera back to her.

She stared at him as he placed Coco between his legs. Their size difference was crazy to Saniah. She sometimes wondered if Coco thought Aaron was a giant because of how small the dog was compared to him. “What’s on your mind?” He asked still playing with their ‘daughter’ as Saniah referred to Coco as. “How lucky I am to have someone like you.” She started, smiling at him with nothing but love. He chuckled. “I’m the lucky one. I can’t imagine my life without you.” He responded honestly.

Aaron was more quiet and introverted compared to Saniah, but when he spoke, he made sure she understood every word he said with clarity. “3 years and you still give me butterflies.” She giggled, covering her smile. “To think 3 years ago, I thought you didn’t even want to be in the same room as me.” He admitted, looking at her teasingly. “What? I was not that bad, was I?” She questioned, knowing she used to hate it when people were quiet around her. “You really want me to answer that?” He asked as she shook her head no profusely, causing him to laugh.

“I was so insecure back then. I felt like everyone who didn’t talk, be loud or just do the most all the time was a weirdo. It’s so embarrassing to think about it now.” She put her head down. “It’s really not a big deal, Niah. It’s not like I was offended or anything.” He shrugged before continuing. “If anything I found your extra ass cute.” He mumbled, causing her to whip her head towards him abruptly. “So all this time you had me feeling guilty for being childish and come to find out you was fucking with it? You’re sick.” Saniah rolled her eyes, watching him laugh with his whole body, shaking Coco in the process.

“It’s not like you were rude. You’re just yourself and that’s what I like most.” He laid back on his arms, closing his eyes. “You’re corny as shit, you know that?” She slapped his chest. He grabbed her arms and pulled her to lay next to him, signalling for her to close her eyes too. “Wait, I didn’t eat the strawberries yet!” Saniah whined, thinking about the food Aaron packed that was going to go to waste, when she heard a hum from Aaron. “Aaron!” She hit his chest again. “Close your eyes and listen to your surroundings.” He told her, rubbing her back, soothingly.

The sounds of the ocean waves flapping, the birds chirping a song and children playing in the distance filled their ears. It was so calming. Saniah loved how easy it was for her to be serene under his arms, like she had no worries or responsibilities to attend to later. She loved being in the moment with him, where she knew she would never be alone because he would always be there for her no matter what they go through together or individually. He loved her too much to disappoint her.

“I love you.” Aaron broke the silence. “I love you too.” She looked up at him, leaning in for a kiss that he reciprocated. “Now, get your ass up before these fat ass seagulls eat my food.” She hit his chest again, jolting him up. He loved this life.

[mr-celestial-writings]

Homemade Cocoa

Day 20: Hot Chocolate

Pairing: Damian Wayne + GN! Reader

Summary: Damian had invited you over after school. What kind of host and friend would he be if he didn't give you hot coco to warm up from the cold? Pennyworth makes the best!

DC MASTERLIST

CELESTIAL'S 25 DAYS OF CHRISTMAS

================================================

"I am Home! And I brought a Guest!" Damian called as you two entered the manor. Alfred appeared next to you both.

"Welcome home, Master Damian, Master [Name]. Let me take you coats." Alfred said, taking your coats as you take them off.

"Thank you, Pennyworth. [Last Name] and I will be in my room. Would you mind bringing us some cocoa?" Damian asked.

Alfred gave an affirmative nod, "Of course, Master Damian. It will help you two warm up."

With that, Damian began leading you through the Labrinth he called home. He was talking your ear off about one thing or another. You could hardly believe that this was the same Damian who threatened you when you first met.

You two eventually reached Damian's room.

"Pennyworth will be here with the cocoa soon. It's homemade. I can assure you, it will warm you up in no time." Damian stated, you sat down on one of the chairs in the room.

"Oohh, that sounds yummy." You said.

Damian gave a stern nod, "Pennyworth's Cocoa is unmatched. Then again, that could be said about his cooking in general."

You laughed softly, and it wasn't long before Alfred appeared with a tray. On the tray, there were two cups of hot cocoa, and a bowl of marshmallows.

"Your Hot Cocoa." Alfred said, setting the tray on Damian's nightstand.

"Thank You, Alfred." Damian said. You don't think you've ever seen him so... kind.

"Thank you, Mister Pennyworth!" You said. Alfred smiled and nodded, before leaving.

Damian handed your cup, "You can put in marshmallows if you want."

You hummed, looking at the steaming brown liquid. It smelled so good!

You took a careful sip, as to not accidently burn yourself.

Your eyes lit up. It was so chocolaty! So Creamy! The flavor was so enhanced! Better than the packaged stuff you usually had.

"Amazing!" You grinned.

Damian nodded in agreement, "I told you so."

================================================

a/n: I love hot coco. I drink it pretty much any time of the year. I'm always cold and the apartment is often kept frigid.

[hannahhook7744]

Umbrella Academy Next Gen Moodboards and Pets (Added to in light of season 4);

Name: Lôc 'Lucky' Ben Hargreeves.

Age: 20 years old.

Alias: Lucky, The Boss, and The Windbreaker.

Parentage: Klaus Hargreeves and Dave Katz.

Possible Power: Aerokinesis.

(Note: Based off Klaus's son from the comics).

Name: Thomas 'Tommy' Benjamin Katz-Hargeeves.

Age: 17 years old.

Alias: The Coward of the County.

Parentage: David Katz and Klaus Hargreeves.

Possible Power: Super Speed.

Name: Jolene Alison Katz-Hargreeves.

Age: 13 years old.

Alias: The Chameleon.

Parentage: David Katz and Klaus Hargreeves.

Possible Power: Camouflage.

Name: Revere Diego Katz-Hargreeves.

Age: 7 years old.

Alias: Clumsy.

Parentage: David Katz and Klaus Hargreeves.

Possible Power: Umbrakinesis.

Name: Delilah Grace Katz-Hargreeves.

Age: 3 years old.

Alias: Giggles.

Parentage: David Katz and Klaus Hargreeves.

Possible Power: Emotion Detection.

Old Moodboard:

Name: Stanley Ronnie Hargreeves-Pitts.

Age: 11 years old/the age we see him in canon.

Alias: The Changeling.

Parentage: Lila Pitts and Diego Hargreeves (adoptive).

New Moodboard:

Name: Stanley Ronnie Hargreeves-Pitts.

Age: 17 years old.

Alias: The Changeling.

Parentage: Trudy (Biological), and Lila Pitts and Diego Hargreeves (adoptive).

Name: Grace Anita Hargreeves-Pitts.

Age: 6 years old.

Alias: Gracie, G.A, and The Stretch.

Parentage: Lila Pitts and Diego Hargreeves.

Possible Powers: Elasticity.

Name: Soccorro Eudora Hargreeves-Pitts.

Age: 2 years old.

Alias: Coco, Beastie, and the Beast Whisperer.

Parentage: Lila Pitts and Diego Hargreeves

Possible Powers: Beastial Speech/Zoolingualism.

Name: Grayson Klaus Hargreeves-Pitts.

Age: 2 years old.

Alias: Spark.

Parentage: Lila Pitts and Diego Hargreeves

Possible Powers: Pyrokinesis.

(Inspired by this fic).

Old Moodboard:

Name: Claire Monroe Hendrickson.

Age: 4 years old/at the age we saw her in canon.

Alias: The Star/Starlet.

Parentage: Patrick Hendrickson and Alison Hargreeves (Biological), and Raymond Chestnut (Step-Father).

Possible Power: Acting Mastery.

New Moodboard:

Name: Claire Monroe Hendrickson.

Age: 15 years old.

Alias: The Star/Starlet.

Parentage: Patrick Hendrickson and Alison Hargreeves (Biological), and Raymond Chestnut (Step-Father).

Possible Powers: Acting Mastery.

Name: Raymond Truth Chestnut Jr.

Age: 2 years old.

Alias: Shifter, Truth, and R.J.

Parentage: Raymond Chestnut and Allison Hargreeves.

Possible Power: Intangibility.

Name: Christopher 'Topher' James Alphonso Hargreeves Jr.

Age: 5 years old.

Alias: Quake.

Parentage: Marcus Hargreeves.

Possible Power: Geokinesis.

Name: Ramona Matilda Hargreeves.

Age: 12 years old.

Alias: The Shape, The Shifter, and Shapey.

Parentage: Ben Hargreeves (Adoptive).

Possible Power: Shape shifting.

Name: Elliot 'Ellie' Fei Hargreeves.

Age: 10 years old.

Alias: Chills.

Parentage: Sloane and Luther Hargreeves.

Possible Power: Cryokinesis.

Old Moodboard:

Name: Harlan Alan Cooper-Hargreeves.

Age: 11 years old/the age we saw him at in canon.

Alias: Mouse and the Telekinetic.

Parentage: Sissy and Carl Cooper (Biological), and Viktor Hargreeves (Step-father).

Possible Power: Telekinesis.

New Moodboard:

Name: Harlan Alan Cooper-Hargreeves.

Age: 21 years old.

Alias: Mouse and the Telekinetic.

Parentage: Sissy and Carl Cooper (Biological), and Viktor Hargreeves (Step-father).

Possible Powers: Telekinesis.

[imagineredwood]

I love the headcanon you did of the Mayans leaving you a voicemail while j*rking off, could you reverse it and do a headcanon of them reacting to their s/o leaving them one.

Boy can I 😗

He's both eternally grateful and simultaneously ready to leave wherever it is that he's at to get home and teach you a lesson. He'll call you back over and over, hoping that you'll give him a live rendition and when it goes to voicemail again for the hundredth time, he'll curse, thoughts consumed with what you looked like while you left it. He replays it over and over again, his hand working at his belt furiously as he shuffles off to the bathroom or dark corner. "I miss you, Angel. I need you. It's not the same without you." Your whines and moans and whimpers. You just sound so good. All he wants is to get home to you so he can watch you, but he'll have to settle for the audio. And better believe you're in for it when he gets home.

He's tickled by it. He'll quickly stop it when he realizes what he's listening to and sneak off somewhere private to listen. Has a bit more restraint than Angel and is able to keep his hands out of his pants for the time being. He closes his eyes and plays it over and over, envisioning you writhing as you say his name in the voicemail. "EZ, baby. When are you coming back to me?" He loves how needy you get and he knows that when he finally gets home to you he's going to more than make up for the time apart.

He gets worked up fast, and not entirely in a good way. He already hates leaving you behind, out of town so far away from you. He had you promise to be good and not touch until he came back. It was only a few days after all. But now here you are, moaning into his ear through the phone as you break the rules, letting out mischievous giggles as you rub it in his face. "Feels so good, Bish. Wish you were here, but I think I'm doing a good enough job." Godspeed when he does finally come home.

He teases himself and stays right where he's at while he listens to it. Plays it over and over, listening to your breath hitch, thanking him for the toy he bought you before he left. "It's so good, Coco. Fuck. Thank you, thank you, thank you-" Trailing off as you finally come. He's practically salivating by the time he finally stops the recording, clearing his throat as someone asks him if he's good.

He's less than thrilled, but also rock-hard immediately. Once he gets over the fear from thinking that something is wrong, he settles and growls, hearing you begging and pleading like such a good girl for him. "I tried to wait, but the sheets smell just like you. Please come home. I need it." He's got half the mind to end this bulshit agricultural meeting and just get home to you, but he refrains. He'll take his time and when he does finally get home, he's going to edge you until you can barely see.

He loves it. He loves how adventurous you are and how willing you are to take care of yourself and let him listen. He plays it over and over, imagining how good you look all spread out and needy on the bed. "How many more days, Neron. I'm going crazy here without you." He'd love it more if he were there of course, but it only makes him more eager to get home quickly and in one piece, so he can watch next time.

General taglist (tagged in all work)

@piccasoe @ateliefloresdaprimavera @woahitslucyylu @everyhowlmarksthedead @glimmerglittergirl @fanaticfangurl21 @encounterthepast @svintsandghosts @starrynite7114 @destynelseclipsa @queenbeered @iamthegraham @emoengelfurleben @all-the-boys-to-the-yard @otomefromtheheart @rosieposie0624 @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @beeroses @weirdosandhopelessromantics @kola95

@cruzwalters @myakai13 l @lyly00 @Zsakaystacks17 @cole-winchester @alexxavicry @savagemickey03 @fanfic-n-tabulous @xbloodyxangelx @carma-fanficaddict @gillysoldlady @choochoo284 @whitetxilwxlf @ravennaortiz @flowercrowns-goodvibes

Mayans MC taglist 

@dazzledamazon  @briana-mishell24 @wrcn9fvlcver @thesandbeneathmytoes @krysiewithak @appropriate-writers-name @blessedboo @megapeacelovemusic-blog @emoengelfurleben @blowmymbackout @abby-splace @kola95 @redpoodlern @myakai13 @cruzwalters @po3ticb3auty @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @angel-121 @fanfic-n-tabulous @carma-fanficaddict

[op1umeyes]

For your ‘Holiday Headlines’: drinking hot coco with Soap?

Hot Chocolate + Johnny MacTavish

Burly arms wrapped around your waist as you sprinkled cinnamon onto melting dollops of whipped cream. “Looks delicious, bonnie,” Soap praised. His eyes watched the mugs hungrily- waiting impatiently for you to give him the ‘go ahead’.

You hummed in satisfaction. “I’ve worked all day on these,” you tell him solemnly. “Yours is the one on the left. Be careful because it is hot.”

The word ‘left’ hadn’t even filled the air before Johnny’s greedy hands clasped the porcelain and he took a generous swig of the chocolate drink. His eyes widened and his cheeks swelled like a chipmunk. You guffawed at his reaction.

“I told you!” You reprimanded him with a smirk, taking your mug and padding into the living room to continue your Chrisrmas movie marathon.

Johnny followed soon after looking more dejected than he had before burning off his taste buds. “You didnae tell me it was fookin’ boilin’,” he accused. He set his mug on the coaster beside the couch and snuggled up next to you. “Tryna bloody kill me, woman.”

You set your mug beside your husbands and chuckled. As he pressed play, your hands carded theough his short hair while waiting to the admittedly hot hot coco. “What’s love without a little pain?” You joked, giving Johnny’s hair a gentle tug.

He yowled dramatically. “Steamin’ Jesus!”

You shushed him. “You’re being dramatic, my love. Queen never cry. Watch the movie.”

Johnny grumbled under his breath and glared at the whisps of smoke trailing out of your Snoopy mug. He wasn’t mad, though, because he was spending Christmas in your arms.

[ninyard]

Thoughts about Kevin having an actual Ed and not doing all these rants about food for fun and giggles like some ppl think

OKAY. Okay. So this is just some kind of headcanon stuff based on canon that I’ve thought about for a while. Obligatory trigger warning for ED topics specifically related to ortho/fasting/general shitty relationship with food stuff.

So. I don’t think that Kevin is capable of admitting to himself, by himself, that he has an eating disorder. But I think there’s two sides to it - there’s his body image, and there’s his healthy eating. Their overlap is sizable, but blurry, in the sense that it’s not quite clear where one starts and the other ends.

I have this image in my head of two parallel situations; the first a situation where a young Kevin is sat on a couch with his mom by his side. It’s a lazy Sunday, the TV is playing old cartoons, and Kayleigh is sitting next to her young son, both of them curled up in pyjamas and awake too early to be sane. Kayleigh a book open to one side of her and a notebook on her lap, and she’s scribbling something down that a five or six year old Kevin couldn’t care less about. He’s a good kid, a quiet kid, and all he wants some mornings is just a bowl of cereal, his mom by his side, and his favourite tv show. So he gets all three; an old episode of Kayleigh’s favourite childhood animation, the two of them curled up beneath the same long blanket, and a big bowl of coco pops on his knees, or whatever the sugary, chocolatey American equivalent is. The spoon is a teaspoon, snug in between chubby little fingers, and there’s chocolate milk and cocoa puffs all over his little face, but he’s happy. He’s content, he’s comfortable. He’s a kid, being a kid, eating the cereal that his mom buys him without question, just because it’s his favourite.

Then there’s Kevin, not many years later, sitting at a cold kitchen table with Riko across from him and Tetsuji in between - their little bodies are too big for the chairs they’ve been sat in, but they’ve been pushed forward and boosted up until they’re uncomfortably sat over a gray looking plate. They aren’t allowed eat until they can identify the protein in their breakfast, until they can recount what macros are sat on their plates. It’s a cruel and unusual thing to ask of two nine year olds, but they’re used to it by now. Kevin doesn’t like eggs anymore. Every morning it’s the same. A balanced meal, with the same amount of calories as usual, at the same time every single day of the week. Routine is good for growing minds, the master had told them, and nothing should go into a growing body without knowing exactly what it is.

The problem starts in that, when he was younger, his diet wasn’t necessarily focussed on restricting. The master wanted to ensure that Riko and Kevin were hitting their daily needs. If a plate was not empty, then a goal had not been met, and it didn’t matter how much Kevin cried that he was full, or not hungry, he couldn’t get permission to leave that table until his plate was clean. Their meal times were set and strict - any changes were usually punished in the firing of cooks or the beating of unfocused children. They were weighed each morning to ensure they were growing as they should be, gaining weight as expected, gaining muscle as required.

The older they got the more particular things got; Kevin found himself on an almost unmanageably strict diet and weight management routine - nothing unhealthy, in theory, but too healthy, instead. Times that he couldn’t deviate from, the same meals day in day out, nothing added, nothing taken away. It was when he started working harder on his physique that it became second nature - there was no space for him to be a lazy high schooler who didn’t want however many grams of protein with his dinner. That didn’t exist. Want was a non-factor. Food was always a finely crafted need.

When Exy becomes the biggest priority in his life (as if it wasn't before), when gaining muscle and working out becomes more appropriate for his age, he's introduced to intermittent fasting by a Raven dietician that should've had her license revoked. He was 14, 15, 16 and calculating the times he would be able to stop eating at in order to get a decent amount of time without food in his system. He would calculate what he would need throughout the day to eat as little as possible but to get the nutrition that he needs. They built this bulking/restricting programme into his routine, weeks where he'd eat at regular intervals throughout the day, hitting his calories and nutritional needs, and weeks where he felt like he wasn't eating much at all. It was done in a way that research deemed healthy, so who was he to argue?

So it’s normal to him, this obsession, more of a built-in requirement than something he thinks about at all. He's never been around people that don't care about things in the way he's supposed to. He doesn't remember much of his mother or her eating habits, and until he's much, much older, he isn't reminded of any of the foods he was allowed to eat as a much younger child, until a smell or a taste throws him back. (When he tells David he's never had McDonalds before, he believes he is telling the truth, but when he allows himself to try the fast food some time into the future, he remembers that taste from some memory too far away to touch. It's confusing and sickening and it feels wrong, wrong, wrong.)

I think the thing about Kevin's eating disorder is that, until he is around people that can tell him it's not normal, he doesn't see any problem with it, and even then he sees the foxes as unfocused and unserious when he's called out on it. He doesn't believe anyone when they tell him he has an unhealthy obsession with what he does and doesn't put in his body - why would he? Why would he have any reason to believe that they're right?

The way I like to imagine him understanding his issues is between a few different ways. There's David, first off, in those first couple of weeks after he broke his hand. It's beyond David how Kevin can be in their hotel room with a barely recognisable hand asking about dinner, or calculating how he could properly fast around this whole ordeal. How Kevin could barely keep down any food he was in that much pain, but still insisted on having a full meal that he forced down his throat because he had to. He watched how frustrated Kevin became when he would throw up his food, some app on his phone or a scribbled-on napkin calculating what he was missing with every day that went on where he was in too much pain to eat. There's David, who tells him he can't justify cooking him a huge meal that he can't eat, and Kevin who has a panic attack at the idea of missing a week, two weeks, of being on track. I can't play if I don't eat, he sobs, when all David is thinking about is, I'm not even sure you can play at all.

There's Abby, who does his first physical a couple of weeks into his time in PSU, who carelessly tells him his weight, and Kevin who immediately freaks out and the number being much lower than he's expecting. Abby who tells him it's okay, that he's recovering, and he who panics and asks her to buy him as many protein bars as she can find.

There's Bee, who tells him his relationship to food is unhealthy, and Kevin, who doesn't trust her at all. There's the number for an on-campus dietician and a pamphlet about eating disorders pushed across a table that he throws out into the first trash can he can find.

(There's Allison, something I could fill a whole other ask about, who can't stand watching the way that he eats, his obsessions with food, who begs Bee to do something about it because of how triggering it is for her to watch.)

So that's one side of it - his obsessive health, his over conscious eating habits, his learned behaviours that he would never deem to be unhealthy. There's that need for control over everything that goes into his body, that sends him into a spiral when he can't keep on track of things. It's the eating disorder than most people in the sports world wouldn't bat an eyelid at. He's dedicated, of course he is, he's admirably obsessed. That's just what athletes do. That's just how he was taught to care for his body. He doesn't comprehend for a long time just how damaging it is for his whole world to revolve around his next or last meal.

The other part is his body image - this one, maybe, is less tied to canon than the healthy eating, but something that I feel goes hand-in-hand with 1) him being an athlete in the public eye and 2) already having underlying issues with orthorexia and the way that he eats.

Imagine this, Kevin who has always been mindful and obsessed with the way that he looks, how much he weighs, how his body is shaped and built - he's 17, 18, doing some of his first major magazine shoots. One is for a sports magazine, or maybe a pop culture magazine, and he's doing this shoot in a few different outfits. But the last of the bunch is some shirtless shots, all harmless and not-too-revealing, but shirtless nonetheless. And Kevin has been so obsessed with his own body for so long that he knows exactly how he looks when he's unclothed. Maybe he has a mole on his lower stomach. He has a rib on his left side that sticks out a little more than the rest. His six pack isn't perfect, but it's there. He has acne on his back. Something.

Kevin does the shoot, and honestly? He feels great. He feels like he looks his best, he's happy with himself and how well he's been looking after his body, and then the magazine comes out. Then the magazine comes out, and he flicks to the section dedicated to him, and there, in a full fold-out spread, is him, shirtless. It doesn't take him long to notice the differences - he'd asked the photographer to flick through the photos at the shoot, and there's some tiny, minor editorial differences that he can't stop staring at.

There's a little bit of normal body fat that usually just hangs over his pants - it's muscle, he knows it is, and it is minuscule when he sees it on himself, but for some reason they've edited it out. The mole on his stomach is gone. The redness on his chest, on his back, the textured skin on his stomach - smooth, gone, no longer a problem. It's the first time Kevin has ever seen his body photoshopped, as if the things normal about him are a problem, and he looks closer at any shoots he's done before; tiny blemishes on his face, little scars, freckles, things he'd never even considered to be a problem, disappeared through the magic of photo editing. It's jarring, at first, but he realises then just how much it's been done. And it's not necessarily that the editors of these photos sees these things as problems, we know that, it's just how normalised it is for celebrities to be flawless at that point in time, but Kevin doesn't see it like that.

Some other times he compares edited photos and non edited photos of himself - ones where he's been made to look taller, leaner, sometimes bigger, whatever the publication required, and that manifests itself into a different obsession. It manifests into the desire to look perfect, flawless outside of the healthy eating and muscle toning he's already doing. I've always thought that if Kevin's eating disorder was to turn from something along the lines of orthorexia into something else, that that would be the reason. When he loosens up from his strict routine after joining the foxes, maybe then would come the au or the point where it'd manifest into knowingly fasting without it being a healthy-diet thing. Maybe then it'd manifest into harming his body knowingly because he feels like it'll make him look "perfect", instead of harming his mind unknowingly because he needs to be "healthy".

I should stop myself before this gets too much longer but the TL;DR is that I have a lot of thoughts about Kevin & his relationship with food and his body and I could talk about it forever. <3

[the-s1lly-corner]

Wearing their robes (COTL) (2/2)

I need to write more cotl stuff hmmm hmmm... I kinda want to write something for clauneck but I know no one fucks with him silly style like I do

Characters: lamb, narinder, baal, aym

Notes: reader is gn, NONE of these bitches know that it's partially a sign of affection!!!, post game, this was originally going to include the goat but I still don't know how I want to write them

CWs: none

LAMB

Oh... you've taken their fleece... that's okay, they have a couple extra ones- powerful ones with talismans put into them.. so they're not too bothered about you stealing one of their spares!

That said they do make plans to have something custom made for you... it is getting rather cold out nowadays... hmm... may put some of their wool into it to really make it personal

If you tell them you stole it due to missing them they feel... a certain way... running a cult is so time consuming they didn't mean to make you feel left behind... they try to make more time for you asap-- even if it's not... as soon as they'd like

NARINDER

Give it back, he doesn't like sharing his things all that much. If you're cold he will get you something to cover yourself

The idea that you missed him doesn't cross his mind at all, you may have to explain yourself. He's likely to ask you about it anyway, so there's your opening

He... does not know how to feel about it. Had this happened before his imprisonment he would tease you.. and while the urge to do so is still present, the idea that he was not only wanted but also missed sits oddly in his gut

He.. "begrudgingly" let's you huddle with him under his robe- it's nice and loose on him, there's enough room

BAAL

Honest to god thinks you're cold and asks if you want to go inside. You can keep his robe if you need it, he's not too bothered by the cold. The afterlife wasn't freezing but it wasn't warm either, so he's used to some level of chill... maybe he can convince his mother to make hot coco for everyone...

His ears press down against his head when you tell him you just missed him and that's why you took his outer robes... had he really been that busy lately?

He didn't mean to he promises! It's just been so nice being able to explore the lands after being stuck in one place for so long, and- he's going to take you next time! Explore with him! After you get your own robe- silk cradle is a little chilly...

AYM

Literally tries to tug it off of you, give it to him! That's his! You can go get your own! You probably already have your own somewhere!

You can see the gears in hisbl head turning as you pass it back and tell him you missed him and generally find comfort in wearing it and- oh! He's pushing it back into your hands. Take it. Just take it!! He's not doing it out of pity or passive aggressiveness, he genuinely believes you should keep a hold on it if it brings you comfort

You can have his and he can get another one. He doesn't fully process that you were inviting you to spend more time with him-- he still spends time with you, though! Will forcefully drag you around to check things out