#do I like having ana? that’s a tough question

[lavishl0ve]

🩸Johhny Slaughter x Fem Reader🩸 (Part 2)

Part 2 continuation of my Part 1 Reader, I plan to make many more of these (which can also be read as a stand alone) but I heavily suggest reading the parts before these since I do reference some connections within previous parts! Again, these are my first fics and i’m not like an english major or whateva so i apologize if it isn’t perfect. Thank you and enjoy 🤩 (First part is on my page :)

Part 2: Scars

My dreams only remind me of the terror I wished to avoid. Ana screams echo throughout my head. I should have helped her, sacrificed myself. Maybe she could have been the one to escape. I curl into myself sitting on the rough mattress waiting, and waiting. Waiting for what? I’m not sure. May death have mercy and greet me with a cold kiss in my sleep. But death is late. I’ve lost count on how many days it's been, weeks? Each day that Johnny man swaps out my bandage, sometimes we exchange a few words but our encounters are usually in silence. With each encounter I grow with worry. Once the infection leaves my ankle is that when he’ll murder me? Oh god. Will I take Julie’s place on that meat hook..? I can’t think about it. I feel sick. Scratching interrupts my thoughts. That notifying sound of someone entering the basement, is it bad I was hoping it was Johnny? He was the only family member presenting some type of remorse or maybe it was just his job to make sure their food isn’t contaminated. Their. Food. I shake the thought. Sissy treds over and suddenly I'm disappointed. Better her than that cook though, last time he brought me food he spat in it. Safe to say I didn’t eat it. Not that the food is good anyways. She slides the plate under the small gap the bars have.

“Here Sugar.”

I look up at her giving her a small nod. Maybe I would have smiled if it wasn’t the same stew as always. But it’s better than starving…right? She stands for a moment watching me and sits down. I stare reluctantly at her.

“Go on, you’ll like it today. I made it.” She giggled.

Scooting forward I grasp the plate. It’s hot today. I take a small portion of the meat and take a bite. I chew once then twice. It’s incredibly tough, I let it linger in the back of my mouth acting like I swallowed it. She laughs again.

“How’s that red headed friend of yours taste?”

She mocks me poiking her razor blade through the bar so that it's mere inches from my face. I spit the chewed meat at her,

“You fucking monster!” I yell and I throw my plate at her.

shards of porcelain shatter on the floor from the impact, a few shards cutting her stew stained face.

She grabs my shirt through the bar hitting my head against the iron bars

“You fuckin’ bitch.” She screams, shaking me against the bars.

She takes her razor blade and slices right underneath my left eye.

“Eye for a fuckin’ eye.” she scowls, “Next time it’ll be more than that.”

She throws me on the ground, some of the chipped porcelain pieces cutting my legs. She leaves. I occupy my time picking the shards out of my legs.

—————————————————————-

I wake up to the thud of his boots approaching. Death had not visited me tonight. Unless Johnny is death. I see him walk towards the cell looking at the shards on the ground. He groans. Maybe he knows what happened. Entering, I face toward the opposite wall hiding the cut Sissy had given me. Maybe I'll just let this one get infected and die. He sits on the mattress right next to me removing the same compact tin and gauze again. I refuse to face him. He takes my ankle and unwraps the gauze himself.

“It’s better.” He remarks.

He goes through the daily process , applying the topical cream, then wrapping it up. He sighs.

“You’se alright sweetheart?” He questions.

“Don’t let er’ scare you.” He glances over left toward my face.

He saw the dried blood that had ran along my cheek. He grabs my chin with two fingers and turns my head to see the cut better.

“Fuckin’ Sissy.” He hissed through his teeth.

Johnny rose and stomped out the basement without another word. You didn’t hear the scratch of the door close though. Maybe this is my time to escape! But how the hell will I get out? I reach outside the bars fumbling with the lock. Impossible without a key… or a bobby pin. Digging into your messy hair hoping to find a remaining pin you used the day you guys got caught. It took some time but it was there. I unfold the bobby pin and inserting it into the lock trying to hear those “clicks” Connie talks about. I was never as good as Connie, although she tried to teach me, I had always got frustrated. I twist around the pin, unable to hear the noise. I click my tongue in frustration. I try to remove the pin, trying to restart. It snaps. Fuck. You throw the pin on the ground and sit back against the cold wall.

Johnny yells, “The hell you do to er’ Sissy?”

“She jus’ needed a lil’ lesson Johnny.” She replies, “Was actin’ like a bitch.”

Some words were muffled, at the end of their argument Johnny's words were loud enough to echo throughout the whole house.

“Don’t cha’ go on touchin’ my fuckin’ things Sissy!” he yells, “Or ya’ gonna get it worse than er’.”

You hear a door slam.

——————————————————————

The next morning you awaken to Johnny banging on the cell.

“Wake up.”

I rub my eyes, vision coming into view. Johnny unlocks the cell and grabs your wrist.

“Cmon’.”

“What- where are we going?” you ask.

You’ve never been out of the cell. Is this the end of your demise? Johnny clecthes some sort of emerald green fabric in his left hand. He leads you throughout the house towards the back walking through the kitchen, the sink stained red at the glance you get. We step outside, it’s still dark out, my bare feet touch the grass and I breathe in the fresh air. Finally, a nice change. He leads you toward the same shed which you first encountered him in. Pulling the switch on to turn on the lights you make out the space. Some kinda workshop of his I assume. He walks you through the side door which opens toward the back. He shoves a hose into your hand.

“Clean yourself off.”

Stunned you just stare at him, you can’t see much since the darkness covers his face. You wait.

“You gonna turn around…?” I ask uncomfortably.

“I gotta make sure you don’t run away sweetheart.”

You feel your cheeks blush, but you can’t resist a shower. (A somewhat shower). You walk a few steps from him. Facing away, you take off your shirt, then your underwear. Since you can’t see him he surely can’t see you right? At least that’s what you tell yourself. You turn the knob right and the cold water splashes immediately at your feet. You whince at the sudden shock, Johhny laughs under his breath.

“It ain’t gettin’ any hotter, make it quick.”

I suck it up and point the hose over my head dousing my hair, I bite the inside of you cheek. The water runs down my spine. I coat my hair, wash the dried blood off my cheek, thighs and scrap the stew remanents off on hands. Wow how I miss warm showers. I look back towards johnny he leans against the barn, cigarette in mouth, he glances back over like he knew I was watching him. I turned around finishing my “shower”. As I turned the knob off I hear johnny shift off the shed wall.

“ ere’.” He say’s cigarette in mouth.

He throws me the emerald cloth he’s been holding. I unfold it revealing some short dress. Probably Sissy’s. I pull the fabric over my head, then squeeze out the excess water in my hair. I walk back towards Johnny.

“So,” I pause, “Back to the cellar now?” I shrug.

“Naw’.” He throws the cigarette to the ground grinding it with his boot.

I’m taken aback as he walks away, I assume he intends I follow him. I quicken my steps with little hops and skips, the dirt collecting on my wet feet.

“Where we going?” I ask quickening my pace trying to catch up with him.

Johnnys strides are long, almost double mine. I skip every now and then just to catch up. He stays silent to my question. As we approach some junkyard filled a bunch of old rusted cars Johnny strides over to the back of an truck and puts down the cargo-bed hopping on the edge as he pulls out another cigarette. I stand there, what do I do? I take a moment then just decide to do the same, dangling my feet as he stares . He offers me the box,

���Oh no, I don’t-“

He nods and snatches the box away back into his pocket. The sun rises over the horizon painting his face a lovely orange and golden color. I study Johnny more in depth, his dark eyes stare into the sunset. Wow. Am I crazy? Or is he strangely attractive. A piece of his slicked hair falls in front of his face as he leans down towards his red lighter igniting his cigarette. His nose is so perfectly straight, jaw, hand sculpted. No Y/N stop. This is insane. I avert my attention towards the sunset hoping it’d change my thoughts but it can’t. I can feel him staring at me. He drops his head back down holding his cigarette between his legs as his forearms rest on his thighs. His forearms. I glance at them. Scar-covered. I decide to break the silence.

“How’d you get those?”

He scoffs, “Which ones?”

“These.” I trace the scars on his upper bicep.

“Barfight.” he mutters puffing his smoke again.

“Well… you’d win?”

He scoffs, “I always~ win Darlin’.”

The way he dragged out his S sent me into spiral. What is wrong with me?

“What about this?” I ask pointing to his left hand.

“Nubbins. He’d always set up traps when we ‘er kids.” He pauses, “Left a pretty good god damn mark.”

I nod agreeing with him.

“I’d suppose yours will leave more though’.” He winks and nods toward my ankle.

I purse my lips together.

“How about this one?” I ask moving his strand of hair, hinting at the scar going down his eye.

His eyebrows furrow. He doesn’t answer. Serious subject. We sit there for a minute.

“My Maw’…”

We stare at each other for a moment. His puffs the cigarette again, jumping off the cargo-bed. Did I fuck this up?

“We outta go back inside before they know I brought chu’ out.”

I jump down, “Back to the cellar?” I sigh.

A simple Mhmm rumbles between his lips. I look back towards the sunrise soaking up each ounce I could receive. Who knows if this is my last time seeing the sun, let alone the sun rise. But in the end, I guess beautiful things aren’t meant to last.

[argumentl]

Report from Tora no ana, Osaka (2023/03/10)

I had a decent ticket number, so was not so far from the front, I ordered a gari chuhai from Kaoru's special menu, and bought merch after getting inside. Everyone was given two sheets for submitting questions to Kaoru, but most seemed to be using one for submitting and one for keeping.

As far as I could see, I was the only non-asian person there, so possibly the only foreigner???

Kaoru came out at about 19:15 with Fujieda and Takabayashi. Short, black hair, hanging in his eyes a bit, wearing a loose, black, kind of shellsuit jacket, a white tshirt, and tracksuit pants/trousers.

The event was being recorded. From my seat I could clearly see the computer screen of the guy recording the event, so I saw lots of close ups of Kaoru via the screen, as well seeIng him in person.

Kaoru raised a toast to start...joining him for this was one of my life highlights. Audience members were ordering food and drinks for Kaoru and the managers throughout the event. They ended up with far more than they could actually drink. Some quite expensive things too, like Yamazaki whisky etc.

Kaoru said he has been bothered by hayfever. He said when he woke up on Friday morning, his eyes felt swollen.

Kaoru commented on the state of the street outside the venue, it filled up with dodgy looking types as soon as the sun went down. (*It really did*)

After getting settled, the talk got underway, and they started with a recap of the Dir activities of the last year. Starting with the Studio Coast live, and running through to the talk with Hazuki in Nagoya recently.

Fujieda was very enthusiastic talkIng about their visit to the Yamazaki whisky distillery.

Kaoru explained again about how difficult the anniversary tour was for him. He struggled trying to stop his old self emerging during that tour.

About the Hazuki talk, Kaoru had agreed to appear on Hazukitchen with Hazuki, but he said this time that he would not cook. He is happy to appear if all he has to do is eat what Hazuki makes.

The recap of last year lasted until almost 9pm, at which point Kaoru suggested a 10 min toilet break.

Getting back on stage, they got started with Q and A session. Despite having probably about 150 submissions, only a small handful were read out.

I have to start here by saying that MY QUESTION WAS CHOSEN! 🥴😱

I asked if Kaoru has been to see any of the other members' lives. Fujieda read out the question, and then also mentioned my name with it, so I was basically screaming in my head. Anyway, Kaoru answered that he has been to see Sukekiyo once, but thats it. Fujieda asked him if he wanted to see Decays and Seraph, and he replied 'Hmmm....' with an expression that said, 'NO' 🤣

Other questions were:

What type of curry do you like? - He likes many types. The fan who asked the question said she likes green curry. Kaoru likes this too, but said that there are a few members of the band who hate Thai food, which is tough when doing overseas tours, because Thai food is often suggested as an option by overseas staff.

Which Slam Dunk character would make the best lover? From a male viewpoint, and a female viewpoint - Kaoru said, Hanamichi for male, and Mitsu for female. Then he revealed that the white tshirt he was wearing was actually a Mitsui tshirt, he pulled back his jacket to reveal the shirt design underneath.

Which direction does you hair spiral at your crown? - Both managers got up to inspect the crown of Kaoru's head, but couldn't see much of a spiral. Kaoru said that since his hair tends to fall over his right eye, that probably influences which angle its growing from his crown.

What food reminds you of the taste of home? Kaoru says his mum always makes this dish using the fish buri during the first few days of the year.

How do you deal with creative slumps? - Kaoru basically said to embrace slumps as part of your life journey. They are what they are, and they will lead you to your next path eventually.

What is the best souvenir to get in Osaka? - Kaoru was very adamant about this, and his answer was kasu udon. The type that you can buy in a box from Shin Osaka station, and its very delicious apparently. He wouldn't hear of any other souvenir being suggested, is HAS to be this for him.

I think these are the only questions he answered, but the talk continued nevertheless. Other topics of conversation included:

The shops in the vicinity of Tokyo Garden Theatre. Fujieda is very impressed with the giant Daiso (100yen store) and the giant Mujirushi there. He mentioned a few things he likes to buy at Mujirushi, and then Kaoru says he gets his slippers at Mujirushi, especially slippers for summer time use. He gets a pair there every year without fail, and explained them as something fairly similar to this --> ルームサンダル・鼻緒 (google this product with 無印良品)

Kaoru also said he is planning another art exhibition hopefully in summer this year, but it will probably only be in Tokyo. He said he has just recently finished four or five pieces, and he hasnt been writing any new music at all these past few weeks.

Focus moves onto Takabayashi, as he has been fairly quiet. Kaoru says that Takabayashi is one of those people who knows something about everything. Wherever they go, he will be pointing out trivia and facts about everything they see.

Takabayashi said he is no good at talkIng at length, and this reminds them of that Youtube/TFOE combo that he MC'ed for remotely in 2020.

Kaoru said he wants to organise a trip for Tora no ana next year, but maybe somewhere where Dir have never played a live before. Suggestions included Wakayama, Saga, Shimane etc.

When talking about the photo exhibition, Kaoru said that the shot of him looking backwards which was used for that ticket/sticker was him turning to ask the staff, 'Shall we go get something to eat?', but the photographer got a quick shot at that moment.

Fujieda mentioned about Die surprising Shinya at the Seraph event, which Kaoru had no idea about! He asked Fujieda what the event itself was like, and Fujieda explained that Shinya talked a lot. After each song ended, he would say, 'Hai!/OK!' very swiftly, before going on to explain what the next song would be. This had Kaoru CRYING with laughter! He said 'Imagine Kyo screaming the end of a song, and then saying 'Hai!' each time. Kaoru said (while wiping copious tears from his eyes) he might think about going to a Seraph live, just to witness this!

Fujieda said he was having so much fun, he wants to do this kind of event every month. Talk began of how Toshiya is really the only member who doesnt really do this kind of thing, so Kaoru suggested Fujieda to persuade Toshiya to put an event on.

As this month is Toshiya's birthday, Kaoru raised a toast in celebration of Toshiya, and wished him a happy bithday.

A lot more chat about this and that went on in addition to the above, but the event lasted 4 happy hours, which for ¥3500, is not bad at all!

[aperrywilliams]

Green Card - Ch7: It’s for Our Own Good (Spencer Reid x Fem!OC)

Author Masterlist / Series Masterlist

Previous chapter < > Next chapter

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!OC (Ana María González)

Series summary: What reason leads two complete strangers to marry? For Spencer, the chance of his mom being admitted into a new medical trial. For Ana María González is to get the elusive green card.

Chapter summary: The tension between Spencer and Ana is stronger as the weeks pass, but they know nothing should happen if they don’t want to get hurt. But maybe it’s too late for that now.

Word Count: 7.1k

CW: Strong words. Discussion about Diana’s illness. Spencer is slapped across the face almost twice. Mention of cheating. Conflicted Spencer. Drunk Spencer. Let me know if I forgot something.

A/N: I would slap Spencer across the face too.

——————

"So we were trapped in the elevator. It wasn't a surprise I was hyperventilating, but Morgan freaking out and calling Hotch? That was new. A moment later, the doors opened, and Hotch looked at us sternly. We tried to play cool, obviously failing," Spencer finished his story while Ana couldn't stop laughing. They were walking down the street with an ice cream each one. After breakfast in the new coffee bookstore Spencer found, they spent time looking for books, and now they were on a nice walk in the park near Spencer's building.

"Do you miss them?" Ana questioned after the laughter subsided. Spencer nodded.

"Yeah. I mean, I fully understand why they left, but yeah, I miss them," Spencer confessed before focusing again on his chocolate ice cream.

"I get it. You're all very close in your team from what I noticed," Ana commented, having some trouble with the vanilla-choco-chips ice cream dripping from the cone.

"We are. Well, I have known some of them for a long time, and we spend a lot of time together," Spencer added, chuckling when he saw Ana struggling with her treat. He fished a handkerchief from his pocket to help her. Ana blushed when she noticed Spencer reaching out with the fabric.

"Shit. I must look like a child learning to eat," she complained. Spencer chuckled.

"The important thing is you are enjoying it. What matters if there is an ice cream stain or two?" Ana chuckled, taking the handkerchief.

"Thank you," Ana could stop the dripping and prevent a disaster on her clothes. "And thanks for suggesting this walk too. It has been fun."

Spencer smiled, his heart proudly swelling at her admission.

Damn! Why did he feel like a teenager?

"Yeah. Sometimes I have good ideas," he teased, looking ahead and spotting a bench where they could sit.

They sat and focused on their respective treats while chatting about what type of candies they liked as children. At some point, they went silent, and Spencer noticed the pensive attitude in Ana.

"Are you okay?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. Ana hummed, contemplating what to say next.

"I don't know if it is the best way to put it, but- how often have you felt that life gives you a break from the awful things, and well, you feel happy and optimistic even though the world seems to be on fire around you?"

Spencer tilted his head to look at her, thinking about her question. Funny, he had wondered about that more than once in the past.

"Not often enough, I guess," he conceded. Ana's eyes filled with empathy. Of course, a guy with a job like Spencer's sees the world in flames daily. It's tough. "But- you know? Moments like this one are a good way to remind me that those good days exist. Needless to say, I have had a good amount of those with you in the past months," he finished with a warm smile. Was that too daring? From the blush on Ana's face, Spencer thought maybe it was. But he wasn't lying.

"Come on; you're only telling me that because I'm your wife," she joked to lighten the mood. Spencer laughed.

"Well, you are. But I'm being serious when I tell you the great woman I think you are. And I think you deserve more of those days, too," Spencer confessed, earnestly looking at her.

"Thank you. And since we are in confession mode," Ana prefaced, chuckling. "I think you are an amazing person, Spencer. And I'm glad I met you. Really," she patted his knee appreciatively.

"I'm glad too," he continued. "And happy." The last part was a slip. It wasn't meant to be said at loud, but Spencer couldn't help it. As the words left his mouth, Ana locked eyes with him. What meant 'happy'?

At that moment, something in the air changed. It was like any thought disappeared. They kept staring at each other, feeling a strange force bringing them closer and closer. Spencer's eyes darted briefly to Ana's lips, but enough time for her to notice. Ana could have died there.

Did he want to kiss her? Did he want to do it as much as she wanted?

She thought she was imagining things when Spencer subtly started to lean in. Words left her in any capacity, and the only thing she could do was mimic him. They were halfway there, feeling their breath fanning their faces. When they were about to close their eyes to savor the prohibited fruit, Spencer's phone chimed. Both jumped back immediately. Seeing Spencer didn't react and the phone still rang, Ana prompted.

"Uh. May you want to answer that," she said, shifting back on the bench and breaking eye contact with Spencer. Still dazed, Spencer cleared his throat and fished his phone from his pant pocket. He saw who was calling, and his eyes widened.

Heaven and Hell conspiring: It was Maeve.

"Maeve, hey," he answered, still looking at Ana, who nervously glanced at him and quickly averted her gaze. Why did she feel like she had been caught doing something terrible? Maybe because she was about to kiss that woman's boyfriend.

It was a short call. And Spencer mostly uttered monosyllables. But from what Ana could deduce, Maeve was in town, and they agreed to meet in an hour.

Spencer cleared his throat. He didn't know what to say or if it was prudent to address what almost happened, so he played the oblivious card.

"I think we should come back to the apartment," he mumbled. It wasn't far from there, but Ana didn't want to prolong the awkwardness, so she decided to part ways.

"You can go. I want to buy some things at the store there if you don't mind," Ana said, pointing to the opposite park corner.

"Oh. I can go with you if you want," Spencer offered. Even if he felt the tension between them, he felt bad leaving her there alone.

"No. Please. You should go. Maeve must be waiting for you."

Why did those words sound so bitterly rolling off her tongue?

Spencer didn't push and nodded.

"Okay. See you later?"

"Sure."

But they did not see each other later. When Ana came back to the apartment, Spencer was gone, and he didn't return that night or the next day.

She didn't want to give it too much thought, but her stomach knotted, just thinking this woman didn't deserve a man like Spencer.

Why not? Even if Ana didn't know her, from everything Spencer had told her and seeing how their relationship worked, she concluded Maeve wasn't giving Spencer the worth he deserved. And that made Ana mad.

Sarah questioned her about it when Ana told her about what almost happened that day in the park.

"You don't know what ensues between them behind closed doors," Sarah reasoned, making Ana scoff while washing some dishes in the coffee shop kitchen.

"Oh, bet your ass that I know. She only calls when she's in town. And the poor guy must sprint to see her. He has never mentioned a date that was not a dinner or a drink in her hotel bar," Ana recounted.

"So you think they only fuck, and that's it?"

"I don't think they do much more than that, honestly," Ana confirmed, grabbing the remained dishes to wash.

"And that bothers you?" Sarah asked as she clutched the dishes from the rack to dry them with a towel.

"Of course! I mean, what kind of relationship is that?" Ana turned off the tap and took another towel to dry her hands.

"Maybe he likes it that way. What's wrong with it?"

"In principle, nothing. It's just I think he deserves more than that."

Sarah chuckled, shooking her head in amusement.

"What?"

"I'm trying to figure out if you are jealous only because she knows what it is to fuck the guy or you're jealous because you're falling hard for him."

"What?! No! Is non of that! I mean, he can do whatever he pleases," Ana hastened to declare defensively, earning a scoff from Sarah.

"Sure. Come on, Ana. Just admit you want the guy."

Ana rolled her eyes. She knew Sarah was right, though.

"What difference does it make? Nothing will ever happen between us. It's just a friendly business arrangement. I will get my green card, and everything will be over."

"Yeah, girl, keep telling yourself that," Sarah sneered, giving her a knowing look.

Ana indeed did that. She kept repeating to herself it was pointless to think something could happen between Spencer and her.

Not Spencer nor Ana mentioned that day in the park the next time they saw each other. And things stayed more or less the same, even though you could feel the tension between them.

Using all the tools he'd learned as a profiler, Spencer managed to mask his internal battle over his feelings about Ana pretty well. Was he supposed to do something about it?

As usual, Spencer just let things take their course without further intervention.

Maeve stayed in DC longer this time, so Spencer wasn't very present in his apartment: if he wasn't on a case, he was with Maeve. So he was slowly convincing himself that this was how his life should go. Thinking something else could change things was useless, so he tried to keep his distance from Ana.

That didn't stop his mind from wandering to her as he stared out the jet window or at the ceiling at night before sleeping. But as soon as he realized what he was doing, he forced himself to think of something else.

Spencer was doing that again when his phone went off, sitting at his desk in the BAU. It was Fogarty. Had something happened?

When Fogarty spoke on the other end of the line, he told him Diana was refusing to take the medication the treatment indicated. No one could reason with her, so it would be a good idea if he could come and talk to her.

Spencer rushed to the sanatorium to see his mom. Diana was sitting in one of the armchairs in the common room, looking at the patio through a large window. Spencer moved closer to her until he was in her line of sight.

"Mom," he called her attention. Diana looked up, and her look steeled. It wasn't a usual occurrence, so Spencer knew she was pissed off. "Mom, please, talk to me."

Without saying a word, Diana stood to come face to face with her son. Her gaze continued hard with a glimmer of betrayal. Without warning, she lifted her hand and slapped Spencer across the face, a slap that resounded throughout the room, earning curious looks from the people there.

Still with his head tilted to the side, Spencer began to rub the cheek that took the impact. Embarrassment and confusion filled his features. When he finally turned to face her, Diana's anger began to spill out through her words.

"You lied to me! You betrayed me! You never told me I would be a guinea pig in this awful place!" She yelled.

"Mom, please. Can we talk about this outside?" Spencer tried to convince her. They were making a scene for anyone to see.

"Why? You don't want people to know how a bad son are you? Someone capable of lying to his own mother?" Diana scoffed, folding her arms over her chest defensively.

"I didn't lie to you. I told you this place would give you a different treatment," Spencer clarified, although it seemed a poor excuse at this point.

"But you forgot to mention it was an 'experimental' one, didn't you?"

Spencer bit his cheek from the inside. Diana was right; that was the part he omitted from his explanation when they discussed moving from her old sanatorium.

"Would you have accepted if I had told you?" Spencer asked instead of keep defending himself.

"So you admit you didn't tell me. That's precisely lying, Spencer! I wouldn't mind if it were something else. But it's my life! You don't get to decide what I have to do with my own life. Did you hear me? Jeez! You're so selfish! You only think about what you want. Have you stopped to ask me what I want? This is my illness and my life. Not yours."

And with that, Diana stomped out of the room toward the gardens outside. Spencer called for her, but she didn't answer or turn to see him.

Spencer stood there, not knowing if it was a good idea to follow his mom and try to talk to her. She was already distraught. He settled with going to Fogarty's office and discussing what they could do from here. Was it against Diana's wishes? Yes. But Spencer only wanted to do the best for her. At least, it was what he convinced himself he was doing.

Fogarty was very understanding and told Spencer they could go easy with Diana for now. Still, she needed to agree to the treatment if they wanted this to work.

Diana barely looked at him when he went to say goodbye to her. Though his heart broke when Diana said nothing to him, he leaned in and kissed her forehead.

"Bye, mom. I'll come back soon, okay?"

Still no response.

After that, Spencer sighed and finally left the sanatorium.

He felt lost, baffled, and sad. Very very sad. On his way out, he got in a cab, and his first instinct was to fish his phone and dial Maeve's number. The phone rang and rang.

"Answer, please. I need you," Spencer muttered into the receiver. But Maeve never picked up. "Fuck!"

He texted her several messages telling her what happened, but as he arrived at his building, he yet didn't get a reply.

It wasn't even five in the afternoon when Ana heard the jingle of keys in the lock. She got there not long before and was scanning the fridge for things she could use for dinner.

Poking her head to look at the entrance, she saw Spencer, head down, peeling his jacket and hanging it on the rack.

Ana noticed the ring on his finger. Spencer wasn't coming from work or from seeing Maeve. He was at the sanatorium. And for the way he looked, things didn't go okay.

"What happened? Something is wrong with your mom?"

Spencer didn't say anything; although he heard Ana's question, he was still mulling over Diana's words. Ana's gaze followed him until he plopped on the couch, exhaling sharply.

"Am I selfish?" Spencer asked. Ana didn't know if it was a rhetorical question, so she said nothing waiting for him to continue.

"She says I'm selfish for forcing her to do something she doesn't want. Isn't she the selfish one for resisting the treatment that could help her?"

Spencer racked his fingers through his hair in frustration. "Everything I've done has been to get her a spot on Fogarty's medical trial!"

As Spencer ranted, Ana noticed a forming bruise on his left cheek. Things got pretty bad with Diana, she could guess. Spencer's gaze followed Ana's line of sight to his face and saw the worry in her eyes.

"It's okay. She was upset. I'll be okay," he dismissed.

"Can I at least bring some ice for you?" Ana offered. Spencer nodded.

After returning with an ice pack and handing it to him, Ana sat beside him. Spencer put pressure on his cheek to ease the sting he still felt. Maybe it was just psychosomatic: the pain of replaying in his mind when Diana slapped him.

"Why she was so pissed anyway? Fogarty told her something bad?"

"I should have anticipated this. I mean, my mom is a clever woman. She would find out this was an experimental treatment and not a conventional one," Spencer mused. Ana raised an eyebrow.

"Wait a minute. Your mom didn't know about the medical trial until now? What did you tell her?"

Spencer's cheeks turned pink at the question. Why did what he was doing sound so wrong coming from people's mouths?

"I - uh. I knew my mom would have said no if I had told her everything. And I didn't want to overwhelm her, and I wanted her to get the best treatment possible. So I thought- well. I thought it was better like that."

As the words left his lips, Spencer realized he had crossed a line he shouldn't have.

"I fucked up, didn't I?"

"Do you really want to know my opinion?" Ana cautioned. She knew Spencer was vulnerable right now, so she didn't want to overstep. Spencer nodded. "Well, think about how she's feeling right now. I mean, she realized why she was there, and you didn't ask her if she wanted to do it. I think the trust issues are understandable."

"I just want to help her to get better. I'm doing this for her," Spencer defended as he did in the sanatorium.

"I think you need to tell her that. Maybe she thinks you're selfish because you want to decide how you want her to be. Maybe she thinks you're not accepting her like she is, and she truly believes that things- well, things won't change no matter what you do."

Ana tried to be as gentle as possible. She knew it wasn't something Spencer wanted to hear. He had to clear his throat before speaking because of the lump formed there.

"So, do I need to give up? Do I need to accept I lost my mom forever?" He cracked. The thought hurt him beyond belief.

"Don't say that as if she wasn't here anymore. You still have time. Why don't you use that time to see her happy and be happy with her? In her terms?"

Spencer's head hung low, trying to mask the tears falling down his cheeks. Ana rested one hand on his knee in a comforting mode. "I know it's not me going through this now, but as someone who had lost her mom, I only can tell you I would have liked to spend much time with her more than fighting against the fact I was going to lose her sooner than later."

Spencer's eyes traveled up until meeting Ana's. She had hers glassy with unshed tears.

"I don't want to lose her. I can't. I can't even imagine my life without my mom," he confessed before bursting into tears. Ana scooted closer and wrapped his arms around him. Spencer hid his head in the crook of her neck and cried.

"I know. And I know you are doing everything you can to help your mom. Hell, you even married a stranger for her," Ana spoke, stroking Spencer's back soothingly. "You need to talk to her, though. Tell her how you're feeling so she can understand and tell you what she really wants."

Spencer thought about that. In the last few months, he had been so committed to getting Diana on Fogarty's program that he hadn't stopped to wonder if Diana would eventually agree. In Spencer's eyes, the most logical thing was trying everything to make his mom better. But was this path the one she wanted? Since Diana changed sanatorium, Spencer hadn't seen her very often, and he even stopped writing to her in the way he had been doing. He didn't know how she was feeling.

To cheer him up a bit, Ana prepared a dinner she knew Spencer would like. He thanked her endlessly as he emptied the plate. Spencer hadn't realized how hungry he was. Spencer's cell phone dinged when they were having coffee after dinner, announcing he had a message. Spencer took it out of his pocket to check it. It was a text from Maeve.

"I can't talk right now. I'll call you as soon as I can."

Spencer rolled his eyes and tucked the device in his pocket again. Ana frowned at the action.

"Something happened?" She probed, trying to decipher Spencer's expression.

"Nothing that could be worth that much," he bluntly replied, changing the subject. "You know, I'll talk to my mom. You're right. I've been only guessing what is the best for her, and maybe she's right. I've only been thinking about what's best for me."

And that was what he did. Spencer asked Emily for some days off to sort things with Diana. Without question, Emily granted him that.

Knowing how difficult it was for him to talk about his feelings, before going to visit her, he wrote her a long letter explaining his apprehensions and why he had not wanted to tell her about the experimental treatment. Spencer wrote to her about how sorry he was and wanted to apologize in person but asked her to read his entire letter first.

He made Fogarty hand her the letter and waited outside the room for Diana to read it. When he finally walked in to see her, Diana had tears in her eyes. She got up from her seat, and without a word, she hugged Spencer tight. Spencer let his tears run free as he clung to his mom.

"I don't like to be mad at you, honey. And I'm sorry for slapping you," Diana apologized as she stroked his hair.

"You don't have anything to apologize for. It's me who needs to apologize. I should have talked to you about this. Please, I need to know what you're feeling. I don't want to assume something that's not what you want."

They talked their hearts out that afternoon. They agreed to take the treatment slow. Spencer offered to call it off, but Diana opposed it. She wanted to try it but asked Spencer not to get his hopes up; she preferred to spend more time with him than walking from doctor to doctor to try new things.

A nurse brought them a teapot and two cups. Diana liked to drink some tea at these hours. Diana's eyes posed on the ring on his finger as she served his son a cup.

"And how is my daughter-in-law?" she asked amused. Spencer rolled his eyes. "I know; you told me about your job, and there was a 'thing' you both needed to do. But you know I'm not stupid, Spencer. I only hope you know what you are doing."

Spencer could have told her the truth, but it was already too much information, and Diana might feel bad about the real reason for his marriage to Ana.

"Yeah. I know it sounds weird, but everything is fine."

Is it, though?

Diana hummed, narrowing her eyes.

"What?" Spencer asked, knowing something was on the tip of her tongue.

"You like her." Spencer wanted to refute, but Diana stopped him. "And don't tell me it's not like that. Before I moved here, your letters only talked about that girl Maeve. You haven't mentioned her again in months."

"It doesn't mean that-"

Again, Diana cut him off.

"Maybe not, but I can feel something. Call it mother intuition or whatever, but I can see it in your eyes. And I will only tell you one thing: stop thinking about everything. Start feeling and acting on it. In matters of the heart, you need to follow what makes you happy even if it could not seem what it's supposed to happen."

Spencer was still amazed at how well his mom could read him. He wouldn't admit it, but in his internal debate, he knew he had to do something about his love status. On one side was Maeve and this increasingly one-sided relationship. Even so, Spencer still thought there was something salvageable after a year of dating. On the other hand, there was Ana, who, in a few months, had gained his heart and become someone significant to him. But that scared him. Spencer hated being abandoned, and knowing Ana would eventually leave his life made him step back. At least Maeve still sticks around. In a very unusual way, but she does.

Spencer decided to take a course of action similar to the one he took with his mom: talk to Marve and tell her what he was feeling and ask her what she wanted for real.

So one afternoon, when Maeve called him saying she was in DC, he asked her to meet the next day so they could talk.

Spencer waited for Maeve in the bar they used to go to. Time passed, and she still hadn't arrived. Spencer checked his phone and called her several times, leaving voicemails and texts. When Maeve finally called back, she apologized, saying she couldn't make it. She had an awful headache and couldn’t grab her phone until now. Spencer offered to check on her, but she dismissed him, telling him she only needed to rest.

The Spencer of a few weeks ago would have stuck with that explanation and gone home, but he was already tired of this coming and going, and he needed Maeve to understand how difficult it was for him to continue like this. That's why he left the bar and took a taxi toward her hotel. Spencer wasn't going to go home without talking to Maeve first.

Once he got there, he hesitated if it was a good idea. In his guts, he felt like he would regret pushing Maeve to talk to him. But before he could turn and leave, he was greeted by the hotel front desk man.

“Dr. Reid. Nice to see you. Are you here to see Dr. Donovan, right?”

“Hi, Oscar. Yes, I’m here to see Maeve.”

“Give me a second; I’ll announce you,” Oscar said, about to take the phone and call upstairs.

“Actually, if you don’t mind, I want to surprise her. You know, I got her a gift, and I would like it to be a surprise.” Spencer didn't know why he lied about it, but he didn't want to risk Maeve denying him entrance. Oscar seemed to buy the story. Smiling, he granted Spencer access to the elevators.

“Oh! Of course, you know where to find her.”

Spencer walked to the elevator and pushed the 7th-floor button. Once there, he walked through the corridor he knew so well. They stumbled there many times as Spencer passionately kissed Maeve doing the path to her room.

He stopped in front of room 706. Sighing, he was about to knock when he heard laughs from the inside. Spencer frowned. It wasn’t only Maeve’s. He could swear he heard a male voice as well.

Spencer knocked. And just a few seconds later, a half-naked muscular man opened the door.

“Yeah? You are not from the room service, are you?”

Spencer didn’t know what to say; he only stood there looking dumbfounded and trying to understand what was happening. “Mate? Are you okay?” The man asked, seeing Spencer going pale.

“Maeve is here?” Spencer asked, just above a whisper.

“Oh. Wait a minute,” the man turned and went inside. Spencer heard as he called. “Babe! Someone is here asking for you.”

Maeve quickly appeared at the door, a silk robe covering her frame. Her eyes widened when she saw Spencer standing there.

“Spencer. What - what are you doing here?”

“Now I’m asking myself the same,” he mumbled, eyes filling with tears. “I didn’t know your headache had such a muscular appearance.”

“Spencer. We can talk about this -” She tried to reach his arm, but Spencer stepped back.

“Don’t. I don't think there is something to talk about. I - uh. Well, now I get why you are so busy all the time. But don't worry; I won’t bother you again.”

Before Maeve could say anything, Spencer turned and walked down the hall toward the stairs. He didn't want to wait for the elevator. Maeve’s voice calling for him wasn’t enough to slow his pace.

Spencer felt so stupid. How did he not see it before? He’s a damn profiler, for fuck’s sake. Why did it hurt so much? Spencer already knew he wasn’t that important to her. Maybe it was a part of his heart that loved her and a part of his ego plummeting from that 7th-floor.

Ana got home after a draining shift that afternoon. Logan had been a pain in the ass all day, and the patrons got more demanding than ever. Collin was sick, and Ana had to cover her alone until Sarah came to help after lunch.

Spencer wasn't in the apartment, so she suspected he had a case or was with Maeve.

She had a quick meal and made a beeline to her bed. In her mind, one thing: sleep until next week. So it didn't take long until she dozed off.

When her phone went off, Ana didn't know if she had just fallen asleep or hours had passed. Without opening her eyes, she stretched out one arm to reach for the device on her nightstand.

"Hello?"

Sobbing was heard on the other end of the line. That alerted Ana and caused her to open her eyes and check the caller ID.

On the call: Spencer Reid.

"Spencer? Is that you?"

Another fit of sobbings filled Ana's ears. Sensing something was wrong, she sat on the bed, totally awake.

"I'm broke. Nobody loves me," Spencer hiccuped, slurring his voice into the receiver.

"Where are you?" Ana asked, but Spencer sounded too drunk to answer that.

"I - I don't know. A bar?"

Ana heard the noise behind Spencer's voice, and it might as well be a bar, but where?

"Are you alone? I need to know where you are," Ana demanded, trying to get Spencer's drunk attention.

"I shouldn't be. I was supposed to meet with Maeve," he said before sniffling again.

"Where is she?"

"Not here. She didn’t show up," Spencer slurred. "And now I know why. Did you know she was sleeping with a man who wasn’t me? What a bitch!” He high-pitched blurted.

‘Por la puta madre, lo único que me faltaba (Fuck! This is all I needed right now,)’ Ana thought, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Spencer. Listen to me. Don't move from there. I'm coming to get you, okay?"

Ana put on some clothes as fast as she could, grabbing her keys and purse. She took the first cab she found in the direction where she suspected Spencer was.

Her hunch proved true. When Ana entered the place, she looked directly at the bar. Spencer was sitting on a stool, head resting on the counter, looking at the glass of whiskey he nursed in one hand.

Gently she put a hand over his shoulder. Spencer turned to see her. His eyes filled with tears, and trying to sit straight, he only got to shove his arms around Ana's shoulders, hiding his face in the crook of her neck.

"You came," he slurred. It was like the best thing that had happened to him. It took Ana a moment to register she had Spencer clinging to her like dead weight.

"Yeah. I couldn't leave you alone right now," she confirmed, rubbing Spencer's back. "Come on, let's go home."

Ana had dealt with drunk people more than once in her life, but drunk Spencer Reid was something else entirely. In addition to trying to say goodbye to everyone who saw him go by on his way out of the bar, he didn't stop talking in the cab. Ana learned about the probabilities of risk of alcohol poisoning considering at least a dozen combinations Spencer assured to report. She also learned about the five most efficient car routes from the bar to his apartment and how synchronizing the traffic lights saved at least 5.2 minutes of commuting time.

But without a doubt, the worst part was trying to get him out of the taxi and up to the apartment. Spencer didn't want to use the elevator, and Ana had to help him up the stairs, keeping him from falling every time he stumbled on a step.

After such a procession, they reached their floor, and Ana immediately led him into the apartment and to his room. She managed to leave him sitting on the bed while she looked for clothes he could wear to sleep. As Ana fumbled into the drawers, she didn't notice Spencer looking at her.

"You're so beautiful," he garbled. Ana rolled her eyes, grabbing a pajama and turning to help him.

"Not with the flattery now, Spencer."

"You're gorgeous. How is it you can't see that?" His high-pitched voice was enough evidence of his inebriated state.

"Yeah, whatever," she mumbled, kneeling to help him to rid of his shoes.

"I mean it! You are the most beautiful girl I have met in my life."

What was that? The guy just got his heart broken, and he's trying to flirt right now? Ana was confused but mostly pissed off.

"We're not discussing this right now. Come on, put that on." She pointed to the pajama on the mattress, standing up and ready to leave him there.

"No! Don't go! Please. I'll shut up. But please, sit by my side for a while."

And there they were: those puppy eyes melting away any resolution Ana had.

"Spencer, you need to lay down and sleep," she used a more gentle voice this time, sitting by his side and rubbing his back.

“I don't want to sleep. I need a drink,” Spencer demanded with a pout. Circumstances aside, Ana found it cute.

“No, you don't. You had many tonight. Believe me, you’ll regret it in the morning.”

Spencer breathed a laugh.

“You know what I do regret? Wasting my time with her. I should have known, you know? She is not even half of the woman that you are.”

Why is he comparing Maeve with her? Ana didn't want to be in between this.

“You’re sad and pissed. I get it. But you need to think about this when you won’t be drunk, okay?”

Spencer scoffed, waving a hand in the air.

“Do you think I didn't before? Ana, I - I have been thinking about this plenty in the past months.”

Ana narrowed her eyes.

What did that suppose to mean?

Here is the thing. Spencer barely drinks, but when he does, any filter to his words is long forgotten, like now. He’s telling everything he has on his mind, even if it doesn't make sense.

To prove his point, Spencer continued talking.

"You don't believe me? Look at you! You're great. Beautiful, kind, funny, and so so so sexy. God, I want to kiss you right now. Hell, what am I saying? I have been thinking about kissing you for weeks!”

Ana couldn't believe what she was hearing. But she knew she couldn't give any credibility to that. There were just drunk words.

"Spencer, stop. You don't mean anything of that. You're way too drunk."

The man shook his head eagerly but had to stop because he dizzied himself.

"Maybe I’m too drunk. But did you know 85% of Americans think drunk people tell the truth, and it's not a myth? I personally believe it's very accurate.”

"Of course, you have statistics for that," Ana scoffed, averting her gaze to the floor.

"Ana, hey. Please, look at me,” Spencer requested, softly resting his palm on her cheek. When her eyes traveled up and found Spencer’s, her heart skipped a beat. Although the alcohol was running through his veins, his gaze was intense on her as he wanted to say the things his mouth still couldn't.

"Spencer-"

Ana was about to say anything to break the spell but couldn't think of anything but how good his touch felt on her cheek.

“I don't know why I have been dragging this until now. I don’t know why I cry for her when it’s you who I want.”

Ana didn't know when the distance between them shorted that way, but the booze in Spencer's mouth should have been a warning. Ana knew everything Spencer was saying wasn't true. His mind was confused, and he was vulnerable. She should have backed off. It was the right thing to do, but

Spencer's lips were so close now. He said he wanted to kiss her. And he was leaning to do that. Why deny the urge? Suppressing any warning, Ana closed her eyes as her lips met his.

Is this how it feels? Ana could swear she went to heaven and came back. Sure, it wasn't how she imagined this moment, but perfection wasn't given by the moment but by how she could feel her heart pounding while Spencer kissed her.

Even though their senses were somewhat clouded: Spencer's from the alcohol and Ana's from the astonishment of what was happening, their lips moved in unison in a long, sweet kiss.

When they pulled away, Ana inspected Spencer’s face and found a lovesick smile.

And so the anxiety returned to Ana. It was wrong. It felt so right, but it was wrong.

"Spencer. You need to sleep," she insisted. Spencer wouldn't stop smiling, but his eyes began to close on their own.

"I don’t want," he tried to fight as Ana helped him lie down. Without much resistance, she tucked him with the comforter before he fell into a deep sleep.

Once in her room, Ana let herself freak out.

What was it that had just happened?

Of course, she had imagined more than once Spencer might reciprocate her affections in some capacity, but she never thought she would hear it coming from his mouth in that way.

But as much as she was excited by what had just happened, she didn't want to give herself false hope. Ana has never believed in fairy tales, and this time was no different, even though her heart swelled at the memory of how Spencer's lips felt on hers.

Ana fell asleep thinking about the awkward conversation she would have with Spencer in the morning.

The following day brought a not-pleasant wake-up for Spencer. The light peeking through the curtains felt like stakes on his eyelids, and the headache became increasingly torturous as he gained consciousness.

The worst part was he barely knew how he ended up in his bed. Spencer noticed he had on the same clothes he wore the previous day, as a clean pajama sat at the foot of the bed.

He tried to assemble the puzzle from the night before, but it all came in flashes without much detail. The bar, the call to Ana, and from there, a couple of images going up the stairs and sitting on the bed.

Shame filled him when he realized the state in which Ana had seen him. An apology would not be enough for the hard time he had surely put her through.

He went straight to shower and then changed his clothes. Now with a white shirt and sweatpants, he padded to the kitchen and saw Ana eating a toast and drinking coffee.

"Hey," Spencer mumbled, embarrassed. Ana looked up to see him and could guess the heavy hangover he was experiencing.

"There." She pointed him to a glass of water and some Advil on the counter. Ana thought Spencer needed to feel a little bit better if they were to have this conversation.

The water and Avil were followed for a black coffee and a few toasts.

Silence took over the room. Ana didn't want to be the first to speak, and Spencer felt too ashamed of the sad spectacle of his drunk self. But he needed to apologize correctly, and for that, he had to know how much of a pain in the ass he was last night.

Clearing his throat, he called Ana’s attention.

"I am terrified and too mortified to ask, but I need to know to apologize for whatever stupidity I said or did. What happened last night?"

Shit. Was he wanted her to say it? Ana's mind started to spiral, but she needed to be cautious.

"What? You don't remember anything of what happened?"

Could it be that possible?

"I mean, yeah—a little. After seeing Maeve with another man, I left the hotel and went to the bar. I asked for a whisky first and then another one. I got drunk and called you. You showed up, and then everything is a blur. I remember the stairs and you helping me to sit in bed. I was talking, but I don't know much of what I said,” Spencer admitted, cheeks pink for the mortification.

Ana’s mouth was agape.

He doesn't remember. Unbelievable.

Or maybe he was playing ignorant. Ana didn't know. But whatever it was, it broke her heart. Last night, for a moment, she thought Spencer was being honest and that the kiss they shared had a real meaning for him. And now he doesn't remember anything.

What a stupid girl you are, Ana María González.

"Yeah. I went to pick you up, and I brought you home," she summed up. Spencer's eyes filled with regret.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

"What? To get drunk or calling me?" Ana asked defensively. Spencer noticed and assumed she was pissed about her hard time caring for a drunk.

"Both?"

"It's okay; you needed a safe way to come back."

It was the real thing, Ana thought. Spencer needed help to get home. Everything that followed was a bad joke.

"Even so, I had no right to put that on you. I hope I didn't cause you too much trouble last night or make you too much uncomfortable. Although I'm sure you were already uncomfortable seeing me like this. I'm sorry."

Ana internally scoffed. 'Dude, do you really have no idea?'

"Stop apologizing, Spencer. I wanted to help. It's not a big deal,” she dismissed, suddenly finding deep interest in her empty mug.

"Did I tell you something else about what happened?"

Yes. More than you can imagine.

"Not much. Maeve and the man in her room, no more than that,” she lied.

"You were right. Maeve has been only using me. I should have ended it."

"But you love her," Ana concluded as her brain replayed his words: ‘I don’t know why I cry for her when it’s you who I want.’

"I - uh. I guess so."

Ana thought this conversation would take any direction but this one. What a waste of time. She felt terrible for nurturing the hope of something between them. Now it was clear it was an irrational hope.

She could understand him, though. Spencer was struggling with his relationship, and she was only his friend. She only needed to be understanding with him, nothing more and nothing less.

"You will figure it out. Give you some time, and you'll see things more clearly,” Ana advised, trying to sound as casual as possible. But inside, she only wanted to slap him across the face.

Fucking Spencer Reid.

——————

Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine​ @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @tvandfanfic​ @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @disaster-in-waiting @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger

[try-set-me-on-fire]

Oh I'm such a wimp I don't even wanna think about bad things happening 🫣 But I keep coming back to touch starved, secret caretaking and cry into chest, if you want to talk about any of them?

Well secret caretaking would be kind of a fluffy one! Buck is a pretty stubborn guy when it comes to taking care of himself and asking others for help related to that, so it would be Eddie quietly doing things to make his life easier/nicer while he’s having a tough time. A lot of him being sappy while making sure his ice packs always get back in the freezer, etc.

Haven’t figured out the other two so I’ll just start typing shit out under the cut

Cry into chest…. Not sure what to do about this one…. Maybe I’ll make Eddie cry about something…. Family problems? A nightmare? Buck got hurt and he’s worried? Chris is sick and he’s worried? Or maybe nothing at all has happened but he still is just caught up in an overwhelming feeling of nonspecific worry and frustrated about it because he thought he was past this, The Breakdown ™ was so long ago at this point and like he knows making progress doesn’t mean he magically doesn’t have anxiety anymore and he can have set backs and that’s okay, but he’d been getting better at recognizing when panic like this is coming on and what might trigger it, he’s upset that this blindsided him. Yeah I like that I think I’ll turn that into something…

Touch starved might be another Eddie one. Maybe lawsuit era, maybe post shooting where Ana is there and touches him but he just wants buck, maybe breakdown era where he doesnt see buck anymore and misses him so much but doesnt know how to ask for it, maybe just a general him getting in his head about what kind of touch he’s allowed to have? Like he and Buck casually touched and hugged more in the first season or two they were in and then got a little more distant and that could be characterized as like… in the early days Buck is a friend, its fine to pal around with your friends, but then uh oh the emotions are getting really intense now and you’re not supposed to want to touch your friends this much! Danger! What would the guys on his baseball team have said? What would his dad say? In other words Eddie Diaz Fights The Forces Of Internalized Homophobia. OR I might repurpose and finish this snippet (that I think I’ve already posted before??) about Buck coming back to the Diaz house for the first time after the tsunami

They’re in the locker room, shift over by a good ten minutes, when Eddie puts a hand on his arm. Buck, carefully, doesn’t startle or say this is the second time you’ve touched me in three months out loud.

“You wanna come over,” Eddie says, theoretically a question but presented more like a statement, and Buck should probably feel more annoyed at that except for the fact that there’s a less than zero chance he’d ever say no.

“Yeah,” he says, unnecessarily. “Sure. You want me to grab food?”

So, 40 minutes later, he’s in front of the Diaz house holding a few greasy boxes and worrying that somehow everyone’s taste in pizza has changed since the last time they did this. Eddie’s taste, probably, at nearly years old, has settled such that the most garlic-y option Buck can find is still a safe bet, but Chris is just a kid, getting bigger every day, changing all the time. Three months is an age to an eight year old, maybe pepperoni is disgusting now, embarrassing, food for babies.

So. Buck is standing on the porch, holding the boxes, biting his tongue not to cry wondering what all he might have missed when Eddie pulls into the driveway in his new big truck. He bites down harder because he doesn’t know what he’s allowed anymore, if it would be okay for him to laugh and say what the fuck are you hauling around that you need this much car, Diaz.

Sorry Eddie I will never pass up the opportunity to rage on you for your poor choice of car for city driving

[idontplaytrack]

“you’re a softie”

warnings: mentions/descriptions of anxiety, medical gaslighting, chronic pain & illness

- rosa diaz x teen daughter!reader -

part 2

rosa’s always been a private person, you knew her reasons for not telling her friends about you. however, it wasn’t exactly like it ever came up after all the (very limited) knowledge they had about your mother. but of course, one person on the 99th precinct squad was the exception- captain holt.

the day was going by as per usual, until diaz abruptly went onto the terrace to answer a phone call. the noise startles the relatively quiet bullpen, but they resumed their respective work tasks. “what’s going on with rosa?”

“hm?” amy asks, still distracted by her paperwork.

“rosa seems very…i dunno. have we ever seen her showing this much emotion on her face? that isn’t annoyance or anger?” jake shrugs, pointing at rosa who was currently on the phone with you.

“she doesn’t look happy though. that can’t be good.” amy seethed. just as she finished her sentence, rosa reenters the bullpen and was immediately headed for holt’s office. she knocks, he allows her to enter.

“diaz. how may i help you?”

“my daughter called me. i need to take her home from school. her symptoms have been flaring up for awhile. i don’t want her to get hurt if she makes her own way home.”

“very well. i understand. how much time do you need?”

“can i clock out now? i’m not sure if i need to take her to the hospital or not because she’s not really talking to me- i’ll stay later tomorrow and do whatever task you assign me.” rosa promised.

“hand over the work on your desk to me and you may clock out.” holt decided.

“thanks.” rosa swiftly walked to her desk to grab the small stack of files and turned it in to holt, then left the precinct without another word.

————

“i can’t believe you won’t let me get a car.” rosa scoffs playfully.

“and let you part ways with your motorcycle? I couldn’t possibly do that.”

“i can have both, you know?” rosa bit back a smile, “are you sure you don’t want me to get us a cab home?”

“hurts, but eh.” you shrug.

“hospital?”

“just let me curl up in bed for a couple days, they’ll just hook me up to an iv and give me the same meds i have at home.” you sigh, “i’m due for an mri in two weeks anyway- i can tough it out till then.” rosa pulls you to the side, “i don’t want you to tough it out. your doctor already said that if the pain suddenly worsens and persists you can go in to see her.”

“ i can, but i won’t.”

“you amaze me.” rosa huffs, “flareups cause you a 8-9 out of 10 pain and you can walk, spend a whole day out.”

“all thanks to the whole year of medical gaslighting. had to learn how to function with the symptoms.”

you two board the subway and rosa spots a seat. she nudges you to sit down but you refused. “sit. down.” she insisted. “fine, fine.” you gave in, she stands in front of you, keeping the conversation going to keep your mind off of the pain. “how was school today?”

“just did worksheets and asked questions if i had any. but, lunch did suck.”

“why? someone give you trouble?”

“no, the food was revolting.”

rosa lets out a soft laugh, “is there anything i can do to make you feel better?”

“i already had you abandon your work at 2pm. i feel bad as it is. i could’ve went home myself.”

“yeah, i’m not risking that.” rosa scoffs, “nice try.”

“how about a slice of pizza from your favourite place? or two?” rosa suggests.

“if you want.” you shrug, tired.

getting off the subway, she leads you to your favourite pizza place - it was a short walk. pushing the door open, the bell above the door tinkles. “hey, y/n!” the usual counter staff, ana, spotted you. “ay, rough day?”

“she’s not feeling well.” rosa answered on your behalf.

“pobrecita.” ana frowns, “usual order?”

“yep.” rosa nodded curtly, “2 slices sausage. 2 slices pepperoni.”

“of course, just a minute.” the older lady smiled. rosa paid, then took you to the side to wait away from, the crowd. she had a protective arm around you. “i’ll be fine.” you glanced up at her. “i don’t care. you’re my baby.” to you, this was the norm, but still quite rare. you just knew her coworkers would kill to hear this interaction.

after picking up your order, you and rosa resumed your journey home. the last stretch was a nine minute walk from the pizza place. once at home, you excused yourself and went to change into your favourite loungewear set. that made you feel a tad better: to be out gross sweaty clothes. soon after you emerged from, your bedroom, rosa walked out from hers donning a plain black tank top and a pair of matching leggings.

“let’s eat.” rosa tilted her head toward the dining area. you walk over before she did and laid the table. “ana gave us free garlic knots and sauce again.”

“she always does that when you go there with me.” she smirked. you chuckled, sitting down. “didn’t you tell her to stop doing that?”

“i did, but she likes giving you a little treat. her words, not mine.” rosa shrugged, “the lady’s happy. let her do it. she’s been there since before i had you- she’s kinda like another abuelita of yours. besides, she won’t take my money. i tried to pay her back for the extras she gave, but she wouldn’t take it.”

you fought back a laugh, “what?”

“it’s true.” she places the box containing the pepperoni pizza in front of you, “she’s been there for years.”

“i know.” the laughter mellows out and you quietly ate your slice, your mind drifts off. rosa caught you spacing out almost instantly. you caught her gaze for a moment, “i’m fine. just trying not to think about anything at all, actually.”

she shrugs. “how was work?”

“the recent cases are nothing too intense so i won’t be working too much overtime, i hope. it was a good day, though.”

“good. why?”

you saw that subtle glimmer in her eyes, “you know, don’t you? you just want me to say it.”

you gave her cheeky grin as you chewed your food.

“ha! some things really don’t change.” she remarked, “you always gave me this…grin even when you were really little.”

“you’re a softie.” you teased her. she purses her lips together, her attempt of trying not to smile or laugh. which failed - the corner of her lips tug into a small smile.

“take a nap after this.” she changes the subject abruptly.

“okay, softie.” you pout.

————

the remainder of yesterday went by like clockwork during a flareup for you. so it was uneventful in rosa’s opinion, and she was glad to be back at work the next day because that meant you were in less pain than you were before. “why’d you leave work so early yesterday?”

“not talking about that, jake.” she told him absentmindedly, focused on her computer screen.

“oookay.”

“i’m not kidding.” she glares at him. he rolls back to his desk on his chair, “i’m gonna keep bothering you till i find out~”

“not gonna happen.”

“diaz, my office.” holt stepped into the bullpen briefly. rosa followed him inside silently. “you don’t have to work over time this evening.”

“i can.”

“there is no need.” holt reiterated, “there isn’t any paperwork that needs to be done.”

“okay.” rosa acknowledges with a nod, “is there anything else?”

“yes, how is your daughter doing?” he asked, which caught rosa by surprise.

“better. she’s at school again.”

“that is good to hear. dismissed.”

as soon as rosa shut holt’s office door behind herself, jake returned with the same question. “shut up.” rosa’s phone beeps, jake beats her to it. “oh! your phone’s not on silent mode like it usually would.” he peeks at the screen, “oh my god, rosa-”

“what?” rosa deadpanned, “give it back.”

scared, jake handed the device over. but it wasn’t just that. rosa’s been way more guarded up ever since your recent diagnosis of this chronic illness— which your doctor told you was a rare disease. by the name of aggressive fibromatosis. something apparently ‘harmless’ but has been the root cause of your pain and sleepless nights. the name alone terrified you, even rosa. but more so when she sees you go through a flareup episode. for the first time in her life, she felt helpless. she hadn’t told anyone other than holt, and he didn’t even know the specifics. it took a very long time for you to get answers. doctor after doctor brushed you off and painted you as crazy or dramatic, telling you it was either period cramps or all in your head. day after day, rosa’s anger grew but her patience depleted. she was desperate for you to get the help you needed and she was so, so relieved that you did now. but despite knowing she would probably need the help of her friends in one way or another regarding your situation, she was still choosing to keep this to herself.

but, you were absolutely right about one thing. she was softie. but only you have seen this side of her, and maybe arlo- but he was a puppy. which sadly passed away some time ago.

“who is she? why’s she calling you softie?” asked jake, eagerly.

“give it up, jake.“ rosa exhaled sharply, “give it up.”

“fine, softie.”

[bebepac]

Six Sentence Sunday/ Mood Music Monday 07.24.22

I got multiple posts for six sentence sundays that got my attention so I had put something together too.   I know I know, the peer pressure got me.  Work is still crazy,  Overtime is still not so much optional but a way for me to try to be a manager for a few hours a week, considering how much I’ve had to help staff lately.  

Here’s what I’ve posted in the last little bit.  

The Rotten Apple:  Rock Bottom

Original Post 07/24/22 at 8:38PM EST.

Mood Music Monday Submission

Fresh Meat The Book:  Open Heart Pairings:  MC is single An Ask  by @peonierose​​ Song Inspiration:  Follow You Down :  Gin Blossoms Status:  Still in the writing process.  P.S.  I don’t typically write OH so please be nice.

I straightened my ceil blue scrub top as I got off the bus.  I decided to get off the bus two blocks early so I could have that last little bit of time to calm my nerves.  Today was my first day at Edenbrook hospital to begin my residency.  Ceil blue identified me as a new resident my first year there.  I was going to be the proverbial freshman once again.  Gotta love it.  The saving grace? Atleast I was not going to be alone.  I knew there were several others that were sharing my fate as the new fresh meat gracing the halls of Edenbrook Hospital.

I am the first of my family to go to college, and not only college, and become a doctor.   My family was already calling me all the time asking me questions,  which was already putting a lot of pressure on me, which goes without saying.  Being young, minority, and a woman. I felt at times like I had the weight of my family, a people on my shoulders, so I strive to put my best foot forward. 

Moving to the new area, I had decided to sell my car, and  decrease my carbon footprint, by walking or using public transportation when I could, which might be tough for me in the cold.  I hail from North Carolina, where the summers are hot, and winters are cold, but not blizzard snow like colds of the part of the country I had just moved to. I am definitely going to be shell shocked this winter, coming from a state that shuts down when there’s less than a half of an inch of snow on the ground.

I stopped out front of the hospital to get a coffee before walking in.  I smiled to myself when I glanced around, there were other doctors and nurses also in the line, and I felt like I belonged in that line.  Soon, I might even know some of them well, or at least have an impression of them. I got my liquid courage and headed towards the sliding doors.

“Hey Pink Backpack!  Wait up!!!!”  

I turned around  to see the most beautiful guy trotting up towards me, and it felt like he was moving in slow motion because I felt like the world stopped.  He was wearing the same identical scrubs as myself, which looked breathtaking on his bronzed complexion, and chestnut colored hair and eyes.  The arms of his scrubs were a little tight as he had a very muscular physique.  

“Howzit?”

Hawaii was one of the places on my bucket list to visit, and I recognized the term from a site I had frequented, one random fact amongst many that were floating around in my brain.  

“Aloha.”  

“See I knew! I knew!  Kindred spirits.  I’m Bryce.”  

“Hi Bryce.  I’m Casey.”

Sincerely, Lady Liberty Series: The Rotten Apple The Book:  TRH and beyond! Pairing:  Liam x Riley  /  Eleanor x Nico  (Eleanor x M!OC) Status:  Still in the writing process

“Liberty!  What are you doing here?”

"Daddy, why does she look like Mommy?"

"Because she's your Aunt Liberty. The last time you saw her, you were very little. She's Mommy's younger sister."

“I came to see you two.”  

“Please, come in.”  

“This is a nice home you have here Nico.”  

“Thank you.  I wanted to refuse, but your father gives us a stipend for Ana’s care, and to have a decent lifestyle.  Though, deep down, I feel like it’s partially for my silence because I never pressed charges against Elle." 

“Can I ask you a question?”  

“Sure.”  

“How does she know about Ellie, and what she looks like?”

“Because I told her she has a mother, that her mother is sick. She’s seen pictures of her.”  

He walked over to the mantle  and brought the framed picture over to her.  

“That was that last Christmas when she came here with me for the holiday.”  

Ellie was wearing the pink dress that Nico had bought for her.  Nico was beside her in a nice navy suit, his arm draped around her, his fingertips resting comfortably on her hip. The two looked very happy together.  Ellie looked so content standing next to him like she did in every picture her father had shown her of Ellie and baby Ana.  Ellie’s smile in the picture was incandescent.

“I am in this picture too.”  Ana announced proudly.

“You are?” Libby inquired. "But I don't see you."

She pointed to the picture.  “I was in Mommy’s tummy.  She’s sick, but I know she’s coming home when she gets better.”  

Libby's eyes widened as she looked at Nico.

"From the mouths of babes." Nico responded. He gave her a little kiss on her cheek, “Ana, go play.”  

Once Ana was out of earshot Nico softened his voice.

“I don’t have the heart to tell her Elle’s never coming home.”

[leorawright]

any spare crumbs of healers in watchpoint Gibraltar with a schizophrenic s/o? any mere crumbs for starved anon? im begging. all these healers are so wonderful. pleas-

Hmmm sure! (So in another request they asked for Baptiste with a schizophrenic/autistic child so I'm merging that request with this one)

Final note I'm not a licensed professional for this condition, so please don't get mad if I get something wrong I'm sorry😅

Healers with a schizophrenic s/o (or child in Baptiste's case)

Mercy

She was very understanding when you first told her and promised she'd support you

She's probably one of the best at handling it, especially when the symptoms can be a little too much to handle

She did a lot of research, so she'd know how to help with your symptoms when they got severe

If you ever got hurt, she would be the first person there

Ana

You know she'd definitely be sort of acting like a mother towards you it's just in her nature

She might act a bit tough but she's always there if you need help, especially if it all just gets too overwhelming some days

She's very experienced in mental illness, believe it or not, so she knows how to help you if you ever need it

All in all, very understanding and caring towards you

Brigitte

When you first tell her you have schizophrenia she spends almost a week doing lots of research about it and the symptoms

After that she asks you what symptoms you specifically have

She knows she's not a professional, but if there's any way she can help at any point, ask her, and she'll be there without hesitation

Zenyatta

He had a bit of beforehand knowledge but not as much as he preferred, so he asked you about how it affected your life

He's very attentive, so whenever you're having a bad day or something, he'll come over to you to ask

He'd prefer if you told him how to help you so he knows it'll be sure to help you

Lucio

He's done quite a bit of research on stuff like that in his free time

Expect him to ask a lot of questions. He doesn't want to overwhelm you and just wants to understand how you're feeling because of it

Again, a lot of questions, every day he's asking how you're feeling and if you're feeling overwhelmed or something he'll ask how he can help

Kiriko

She's another one who did her research after you told her you have schizophrenia

She asks a lot of questions but not as much as Lucio

Once she gets a basic understanding of how it affects you, she starts helping you based of that information

Baptiste (platonic)

When he first met you, he immediately noticed your different behavior

After you got diagnosed you better believe he did his research on how to help you feel comfortable

Very protective over you and any comments someone might make

[queerbuckleys]

throwback thursday

tagged by @dickley-buddie and @loveyourownsmiilee

okay so this is something that i wrote last summer hiatus, based on the quote “you can put your strength down now. i’m here with you at your kitchen table. you don’t need to say anything.” and i just never figured out how to complete it. and then they wrote, directed, produced edited, the embodiment of this quote so beautifully that i just decided to let it go to the metaphorical google drive in the sky but i really like what i have so here it is.

Eddie was sitting at the kitchen table. The Vice grip on his throat so tight it hurt. He could barely breathe.

“You don’t have to say anything Ed’s. You can just break. You are allowed to break.”

And that’s when the dam broke.

The dam that was built brick by brick. The first laid when the words “I’m pregnant” fell from Shannon’s lips.

The words “I do” filling in the cracks.

The thick camouflage canvas resting on his shoulders adding to the weight. .

The cracking of gunfire flying over his head seeping into the gaps. The whistle of the sniper rifle permeating each empty space.

Carla’s words “make sure you are following your heart, not Christopher’s” had poked a hole in it somewhere. Hearing Buck “he would have been better off if I was the one who was shot” had cracked the foundation.

Hours ago he had sat across from Ana, feeling more numb. But was still able to get the words out.

“I’m sorry. I know this may seem harsh but, you are not who I want. I hope you find that someone.”

And she responded with a nod and replied, “I just hope you find the courage to tell him.”

And that’s how he found himself at buck’s kitchen table. Numb again, but the tingle of something making it impossible to speak. The frustration building that he couldn’t get the easiest thing he had ever done into words.

Because falling in love with Evan Buckley was just that. It was so easy he hadn’t really even realized it was happening.

So the dam broke when Buck read him like a book. The simple words that had been implied in the years of friendship finally spoken out loud. How he could tell that words were not gonna come without the dam breaking, the ever so explicit permission adding the last drop of what the dam was holding back. So he let it all go. Each brick slid from its slot, pushed by the wave of emotion. The wave of emotion so strong that Eddie slammed his hand on the table harshly, the sound reverberating through the open loft. He felt Buck gently curl his fingers around his where they had tensed in fist now resting on the table and just look at him with those expressive blue eyes, filled with worry amd kindness. Kindness that Eddie had worked hard to believe he deserved.

“I-I broke up with her and I’m not sad. I’m not upset. I should be upset. But I’m just not. Cause all, all I can think about is, well, you.” Eddie finally said the frustration fading as he spoke, his gaze lowered.

“What?” Buck’s Voice cracked,

“I broke up with Ana.”

“I got that part, it’s the last part of what you said that I’m struggling with.”

“I realized something. And I should have realized sooner really. And looking back it feels so obvious. Evan,” his voice catching on the other mans name, but finding the courage to raise his eyes, and turn his hand so they were holding hands gently “next to loving Christopher, loving you is the easiest thing I have ever done. Falling in love with you has been. I know we have had moments when maybe it felt tough-“

“You love me? Like for real, in love with me? Why?” Because of all the things that Buck had been waiting to hear, that was the one thing he had pushed so far out of his mind as a possibility. Because all the things he had been taught, loving him was hard was what he was taught most often.

And if that didn’t shatter Eddie’s heart. Because all the times Buck had been vulnerable, had gazed at him openly, that question had been lingering under words over and over but never said so blatant.

“That’s just it. I love you. And I love you because you are you. Because you hum while you flip pancakes in my kitchen, pancakes my son asked you for. My son who trusts you, who looks up to you, who loves you just as much as you love him. Because you always know what to say and how to make things better. Because you are kind. Because you make this easy.”

At some point he had moved to the chair directly next to Buck, and was looking intently at the younger man, who was just staring back, disbelief drawn on his face.

“Do you believe me?”

tagging: @adventuresofprettyboyandthekid @goldenretrieverfirefighters @buckdoesntevenhaveacouch @piningpettyeddie and anyone else who wants to share.

[nitewrighter]

im very conflicted about playing ovw2. i stopped playing ovw1 years ago back when all the controversies started, and actiblizz is a truly shit and vile company full of terrible people. but i still love the characters and the content the fandom creates for it (your blog, as an example). i know ovw2 is f2p now, and while i would not drop any money for any content ingame, but i know that player metrics is still a form of support for the game itself? i genuinely miss ovw1 and playing the game but i really, really do not want to support actiblizz. what were your own thoughts on this, or i guess maybe a bit of advice to help me make a decision for myself? like i said i really loved the gameplay. it was some of the most fun i had. but i am super conflicted about how to feel about playing. so i figured i would get an opinion on this given you have mentioned before playing ovw2 and if it feels comparable to how ovw1 was

The 5v5 and the battle passes are the biggest shifts, that and the fact that 2CP maps are no longer available in regular quickplay modes (they have been available in the arcade though). I'm still trying to figure out the experience system--basically it's a Fortnite-esque system where you work your way up through levels in the battlepass, and with each level you get a cosmetic. This new system is kind of a slog and to be honest I kind of miss the old lootbox system because at least you could look forward to multiple items or at least in-game currency upon leveling up--the new system basically has you like "I can't believe I'm grinding for a damn Sigma voiceline just to get to that Cassidy skin two levels after."

The ability to earn in-game currency is really reduced, but your "legacy currency" from OW1 carries over--but it's static. Like "I'm afraid to spend it" static. You can also get experience bonuses by completing challenges. So this kind of forces you to play flex, tank, and so on, so it is interesting that there's this regularly updating thing that incentivizes you to mix up your gameplay and collaborate with other players more. 5v5 is still... messy. I'm starting to understand the general concept is that this game mode is more about rapidly maneuvering around the map and flanking even when you're on defense, but it's still very messy with regards to slower utility supports like Ana and Zenyatta. They're continuing to tweak the game.

Honestly I think the decision to let go of Overwatch ultimately boils down to what you think will make you happier. I mean, I still play it because I got really attached to the characters and the community it introduced me to, and I've got friends in the game where basically the game is our preferred medium of communication. But ActiBlizz sucks. Big time. But it's also messy because there are people within Blizzard who are trying to fight for better working conditions and a better workplace environment--Blizzard definitely represents some of the worst bro and crunch culture of the gaming industry but it's not really monolithic.

Like, in terms of my creative output, I'm currently working to take my fankids and put them in their own original fiction because like, I love them and I think they deserve better than to be stuck in that property forever. There's a saying in yoga to "let go of that which no longer serves you" and I'm constantly stuck with this question of "how much did I/do I get out of it vs how much did I put into it", and I don't want to fall into a sunk cost fallacy. And that's the tough part because the fandom and community aspect of it brought so much to the table, so it wasn't just my writing, it was my friends' writing and art, and it's every single ask you guys send because I genuinely love working with all the prompts you guys send me.

So honestly I can't answer your question. It's going to come down to you and what you get out of the game and the community. I've seen a lot of people leave the community, but a lot of them were also people who spent a frankly baffling amount of their fandom time fighting for their lives with complete idiots on twitter, yelling at Blizzard for Pharah or whoever their fave was not being the center of every update, and forgetting there's such a thing as a block button and cultivating your fandom experience. Like, a lot of the Overwatch experience is what you put in, so that's why there's this whole spectrum of who's stayed and who's left. To be honest, I am working on expanding my horizons after 5 years of hyperfixating, plus I've seen some decent success with readership for non-fandom stuff, but I also don't want to give up the joy the playing and creating have given me and just try and sink all that passion somewhere else.

Ultimately it's going to come down to you and how much you get out of it. Though honestly you've already gone years without it, I think you're going to be okay.

[captainjimothycarter]

An idea came to me while driving.

Peggy is a nanny to Howard's kid. She frequents a sandwhich shop every morning, the owner having convinced her that bagels are amazing. And with as many combinations as he offers, she hasnt tried them all yet.

She rakes Tony to this sandwhich shop every day after school for a little snack.

Steve swears his mornings and afternoons are better when he sees Peggy in his shop. By now they have a little relationship and some lowkey flirting, even if Steve hasnt 100% noticed it yet.

Hes proud of the fact that he got her to like bagels after much, much pestering and had once threatened to refuse to make her scones so she'd have to try it.

That stunt earned him a pout and Peggy threatening to come back there and make the scones herself and after the stories hes heard of how she nearly burned down a kitchen in college, Steve immediately took back his threat.

He still doesnt know if Tony is Peggy's child or not. She doesnt wear a ring. She hasnt mentioned a spouse or partner. The closest shes ever mentioned anyone like that would be a Howard but she never said it in terms of adornment. Just annoyance.

Tony knows that Stevie, the Sammy Shop Owner, likes Auntie. He might be 8 but he's learned how to read people really well thanks to his Auntie. And the fact hes rather quiet for an 8 year old, so people just talk around him.

On Valentines Day, when Auntie looks a bit upset that some date she was excited on fails to happen, he drags her to the sammy shop even if they're about to close.

Steve looks surprised to see them, Peggy having mentioned she might not be in, in the afternoon because of a date. He was happy she was happy, even if seething inside. The seething immediately ceased when he saw how miserable Peggy looked, even if she was trying not to be. He couldnt be happy her date canceled on her when she looked like she might cry.

Tony told him all this, about how her date was mean, had said she wasn't worth dating because she was 'stuck up' and he really, really wanted to get back at the man for hurting Auntie.

He whispered all this while Peggy was in the bathroom.

Instead Steve insisted they should focus on helping his Auntie (so maybe Tony wasn't her kid?) feel better.

With Tony distracting Peggy by asking too many questions about the art on the wall, Steve got to work. In fifteen minutes, a plate of strawberry and cream stuffed crepes (in the shape of a heart), cinnamon scones with blueberry drizzle, and death by chocolate sliced cakes ended up on her table. With two large milkshakes, the largest ones Tony had ever seen.

Peggy starts to tear up at Steve's kind smile, when she protests because she forgot her wallet and cant pay and he insists its on the house for 'his best customer and her little guy.'

Peggy does cry at that, Steve gently hugging her. He doesnt judge her, emotions are tough and having a date be that cruel to you - hes been there.

He tells her all this as she calms down enough to slowly eat. Peggy cant believe it, a man of Steve's kindness and his Greek God appearance, who would do that to him?

Shes only halfway through the crepes shes sharing with Tony when she realizes the shop is closed and Steve had been slowly cleaning. Steve had closed a bit early for her?

"Auntie you should go to the dinner with Mister Stevie," Tony insists between mouthfuls of cake and milkshake. "He makes you happy."

"I am sure Steve has his own life, Tony," Peggy tries to quietly insist. "And hes tired of seeing me everyday."

"Nu uh. You make him smile when he comes in. He doesn't do that to other customers. He gets googly eyed like Uncle Jarvis and Auntie Ana do at each other. And I heard him once tell that man with the metal arm that you are sunshine on a rainy day." Tony said this all matter of factly that all Peggy could do was stare at the last bite of crepe.

How could she had not noticed? Too wrapped up in her own thoughts? Meanwhile, she knew under it all she felt the same. Steve made her laugh and smile and made her try new things. He made her happy. Sunshine. Yeah, that was Steve.

Picking up the barely touched scones (Tony hated them), she brought them over to the counter and Steve was immediately back at the counter, brow furrowed in confusion.

"Did I do something wrong with them? I made them just-"

"You did nothing wrong," Peggy interrupts, breaking off a piece to hold it out to him. "I thought we could share it. Id offer the cake but Tony had devoured it."

Steve takes the bite from her hand and smiles. His fingers brushing over hers. "You deserved it after today."

"Thank you. For all of this. I..." She shouldn't be so nervous. "I was wondering if you'd like to go to dinner with me, considering I still have reservations. It doesnt have to be a-"

"A date?" Steve blurts it out and she notices a dashing of blush on his cheeks. "I'd love to."

[zelmoe]

i was tagged by @penismage to answer some fun questions!

name: Zach

sign: I think stop signs are pretty neat, though sometimes a yield is just fine (jk I'm a leo)

height: about 5'6" or 167 cm

time: 8:04 AM

birthday: August 1st!

favorite bands/artists: aw geeze, picking out favorites is always so tough for me but bands I've been listening a lot to latey: Sigur Rós (saw them in june, best concert I've been too), Beirut, Fleet Foxes, Chai, Ana Frango Eléctrico, Novos Baianos, They Might Be Giants. My music tastes change along with the seasons so my music tends to rotate constantly.

last movie: oh man... I don't watch movies a lot but I think it was everything everywhere all at once?

last show: The Great Pottery Throw down!

when i created this blog: I'm pretty sure it's was either 2011 or 2012, ive been on here too long

what i post: My cute mutuals, Landscape photography, Memes, social issues. Really depends on the mood and what pops up on my dashboard

last thing i googled: The Warrior Met Coal Strike (its been going on over a year now and just recently at the end of july, the National Labor Relations Board Region 10 ruled that the United Mine Workers of America pay 13.3 million to Warrior Met for cost of increased security and transportation of scabs, "damages" and loss of profits due to the strike (lol) and really trying to undermine workers right to strike.)

other blogs: I used to have one for posting my photography but I stopped using that and I finally started a nsfw blog right before the porn ban (but maybe ill start that up again)

do i get asks?: not much but that's because I don't have anon on. Though I got a a few last night!

following: 350ish?

followers: 1,200ish? (Too lazy to check)

average hours of sleep: 6-7.5, 7.5 is usually my normal amount but sometimes I'm bad and go to bed late (well early for most people haha)

instruments: i play the French horn pretty well (used to be in a community band before covid) I also have an accordion, piano, and a variety of wind instruments like a recorder, chanter, tin whistle and an ocarina. Oh and I have a Ainu style mouth harp

what i’m wearing: tee-shirt and slacks, normal summer work attire

dream job: i do not dream of labor in a capitalistic way. Honestly I wish I could just keep a nice space, cook, clean, make art, bake. My job as a geologist is pretty good though

dream trip: oh man I want to see too much of the world to have a specific dream trio. Though ny BF and I have been playing around with the idea of going to Peru/Chile/Bolivia as our next trip

nationality: American... whomp whomp

favorite songs: this is not a valid question there is too much good music out there, though one song close to my heart is "Let's Make Room" by Útridúr because I proposed to my BF with that song playing

last book i read: I just finished Fight Like He'll by Kim Kelly literally right before writing this. It's a great look into untold stories of labor from women, POC, queer folk and other marginalized communities

Well that took forever to write! I'm only going to tag a few people @captainacecub @coalescent-space @comingouttomyself and @magikasword plus anyone else who wants to do it. I'm bad at tagging.

[shebloomsatnights-blog]

I Wrote You A Story (that you'll never read)

The Office

It was the first time we saw each other, I was supposed to meet someone else, probably one of your colleauge. Something happened in between, your colleauge friend had to leave somewhere, so we (me and my colleauge) ended up with you. The thing that I simply notice is that you have a tall figure, that's all and suddenly this uneasy feelings that you're going to haunt me, rose. fuck me.

The Message

A couple days after that, I had THIS NERVE to message you pretending that I didn't get the lesson you taught the other day, when I clearly in my right state of mind, understood every single of it, just because I want you to notice my name. So, I simply text you, introduce my self, hello my name is Sekar blablabla and asked that stupid question I made the day before, a kind of question that I know really well the answer and doesn't sound so stupid, but still it is. You replied, and that's it. I get the message, thinking, oh that's it babe, don't ever ask again or you'll look so stupid and hopeless.

The Meet Up

Months later, in not a very strange way, we met through our acquaintance (your colleague is my high school friend but not so close, we just knew each other). Days before, she reach me through whatsapp, and it's so embarassing, she asked me do I still want to meet you. I know my lovely friend Ana and her pretty mouth that can't keep a secret definitely told her that I had a crush on you. So, here and there, we finally, meet again.

The Night We Met

It was Saturday at 2 p.m, I was very close to have my power nap routine at the weekend and suddenly my phone rang. It was you calling. I was trying so hard not to sound so stupid or anything annoying. But I literally scream, after I hung up the call like a very loud scream wkwkw cegil behaviour, I blame you on that. We decided to meet again, on a coffe shop. It's just a simple conversations on getting to know each other, etc. Since then, a night out with you was so important to me. It "clicked" somehow. We went along with it.

The Ghost

Things getting hard, you were so closed and unreachable, and I'm slowly frustated, so we just stop speaking. Getting really quite and cold with each other. I cut my hair really short out of frustatement, so I have other things to worry about (worrying my short hair which looks so ugly on me) and hoping it'll kind of distract me from you. It did work, but then the fucking 1975 release a songs, that was so about you, and my pride crumble in pieces. Another cegil behaviour, I messaged you at 11.30 p.m because I miss you, fuck me (2).

The Re-Bound

That stupid thing I did worked, we began to meet and talk again, like we used to. I fell deeper and I bet you'd stay in the surface. Suddenly all of the TS's love and heartbreak songs were about you (misery loves company). I didn't even hesitate this time, to show my affection towards you, I just love doing it to the person that I think they deserved it. I have this overflowing affection that I'd love to share it with someone (besides my parents and friends), and it was you. All I did was support you, once in a while I learnt a new recipe so you can try even though I know it doesn't taste that good, but you'd still appreciate it, that made me even happier.

The Late Night Thoughts

The same cycle happened again this time, you'd just shut me off, treat me indifferently like I was some kind of joke you could play along with. Just so you know, I was a tough girl, even though being the youngest in the family, my parents raised me to be independent and strong. I built my own fortress, so people who had a bad intention would not affect me that much. I know you're a good person, it shows, but when I get to know you, that fortress I've been building on my own, slowly crumble. I stepped outside my comfort zone, built the bridge pieces by pieces but I felt like I'm the only one who's doing all the work to make some things with you possible. I had to be the one who initiate every conversations, every meetings, just because I want to make those things work. I was doing all the things, but you can't even replied to the message I sent you. I went from desperate to pathetic. I became someone I didn't like, so sensitive, the kind of woman I used to mock.

I've done nothing but support you, I don't deserve to be the one you left behind without any explanation. I was hoping a clear communication, any reasons would work. Even if you tell me that you've been pretending all of this time because you took pity on me, I'd accept it.

[falcqns]

do i have chris and ana or chris and anthony get together in my youngest even sibling dr ?

thats a tough question bc i love both those pairings and him and ana are together in my youngest evans sibling dr, but him and anthony are together in my tom holland dr so wjeofjjshfd

but him and ana are so cute. i love them together. she gets so mad at him sometimes because he tries to do everything for her 'because she's short' and despite their height difference, the woman can deck him pretty hard ijfjsf

but anthony and chris is so stereotypical gay that it's funny? they seem like best friends, and unless you knew they were together you'd think they were just really close friends who were really comfortable with each other until a) they bicker and then start making out, or b) they slap eachothers ass before saying 'thats america's ass' because 'they've both been captain america so it's funny'

so its a hard choice LMAO im so sorry this didn't help at all sfjhfwf

[royalhouseofcarrington]

Can you answer to the questions 13, 14, 32, 34, 38, 39 and 47???

Of course!

13. Describe your writing process from idea to polished

I first write the first draft down on Google Docs (or I'm working on in my head at work, always a fun time), and then from there, it completely varies. If it's happening with the next week, I'll go back and edit a few sentences or shorten it down if I feel like it can be. If it's just a first draft that I know I'll rewrite later, I'll go back every once in a while to remind myself of how that scene is going to work out or to think about how I want to change it (if I even do decide to do it).

I then go into game to get the screenshots and then into BeFunky to edit them and add the text. In total, it can take about a week/week and a half to MONTHS.

14. How do you deal with self-doubts?

I just try to ignore them and brush them off to the side.

32. Most difficult character to write

Hmm. I think that (at least to me, in some sense), Ana is kind of hard to get the dialogue JUST right for (cause she's my baby), but writing stuff for Elissa is a whole lot harder. I don't know why she's so hard, but unless she's arguing with Richard, I don't know what to have her say...

34. What was the hardest scene you ever had to write?

It hasn't happened yet, and won't for a WHILE, but these drafts that I have saved to Google Docs are already kind of tough to read, so rewriting them will be... fun.

38. Weirdest story idea you’ve ever had

I honestly can't remember any of them. I'm sure they're there SOMEWHERE, my brain is just very sluggish right now and doesn't want to load all those files.

39. Weirdest character concept you’ve ever had

*Glances at family that I'm working on on the family tree*

It's like the Von Trapp family... but not... and also in the late 1600s-early 1700s and without singing. Like the Sound of Music movie up until the end of the wedding scene.

47. Best way to procrastinate

I procrastinate by going into game and taking portraits of characters that I will never use and will never appear in my story. That or going on Disney+ and watching something there.

[warrioroflondonbelow]

1. First celebrity crush 5. Favorite actor and actress 6. Little thing that makes you extremely happy 9. Best toy you ever got as a kid 16. Does the way you laugh depends on who you’re with? 19. In the evening, would you rather play a game, visit a relative, watch a movie, or read? 24. What’s the best gift you got?

Cheeky Questions: ACCEPTING

II @dontcxckitup // @dontcxckitup-m

1. First celebrity crush:

//Awww man! I think my first celebrity crush was maybeeee Tom Selleck and Ricky Martin??? 🙈🤣 But I think I ended up having a crush on him because my mom and grandmother also had crushed on him ahahah!//

5. Favorite actor and actress:

//Hmm? That’s a tough one??? Definitely nobody that rhymes with the name Galph Hiennes 👀👀👀 jk jk, some of my favourites are: -James Mcavoy -Ralph Fiennes (obvi) -Michael Fassbender -Anya Taylor Joy -Felicity Jones -Paul Newman -Ana De Armas -Taika Waititi  -Franco Nero  (I can go on really 🙈)

6. Little thing that makes you extremely happy:

//Awww there’s a lot really! (In no order) My family + friends (even if I only have a small but amazing circle <3), My pets, people who show me something and tell me that they thought of me when they saw it, old books, rainy days where you do nothing but read, good food + wine, hugging a good friend or somebody you haven’t seen in ages, just chatting with a person and completely forgetting the time, plants + nature walks, clear/starry nights, the beach <3// 9. Best toy you ever got as a kid:

//I know one of my most favourite toys was this wee, dalmation, stuffed toy I named ‘Spot’ who I brought everywhere with me (until I sadly lost him -sobs-). Some other cool toys I got as a kid was this small, doll-house of Hogwarts that had all of these cool, secret compartments. And, (I know it was a book), but I collected these books from the ‘Ology Book Series’ and one of my favourites was this witchy/spell book and the ancient Egyptian one//

16. Does the way you laugh depends on who you’re with?:

//Erm... Not usually, I think??? I mean, I dont really like my laugh so I dont pay attention to it much, but, yeah, not usually. If ever, maybe if I’m in a party or in a place with people I don’t really know, I just kinda laugh politely if I have to, so I guess that laugh is different from my usual 😅//

19. In the evening, would you rather play a game, visit a relative, watch a movie, or read?:

//Oooooh, it depends, really! Most of the time I just lay in bed and watch a movie, read, and/or do drafts. But now and again, especially on a weekend, I’ll play a video game or go and chat/visit a friend (most of my relatives dont live nearby so I cant visit them :/ ) //

24. What’s the best gift you got?:

//I don’t know if there’s a specific BEST gift I got bc/ I cherish ALL of the gifts I get, but some of the most memorable from the top of my head are-- -A telescope + star chart my parents got me when I was 10 (nerdy I know 😅) -This Baby Yoda bag (which I practically use all the time) and this adorable, wee rock with a painted ladybird on it that has weirdly brought me luck so I keep it in a tiny pouch as a lucky charm. But, yeah, nuuuuu idea who gave me those *wink wonk* -This handmade, crocheted doll of me -just any and all books, really! -A box of cookies from Europe! -An antique, golden compass! //

[wifeymakesgifs]

Secret Santa here again! Thanks for the fcs. I know that can be a tough question, but I love the models that you listed and your mention of pro-Palestine actors (it's got the wheels turning.) I'm going to swerve a bit and ask about your muses -- can you tell me about your favorite muse? What are they like? What's their aesthetic? You can tell me any and everything you choose to.

of course! i know it's such a tough question sometimes, bc i either have a really long or really short list, and it's useless most of the time. also, i'm always pro-Palestine, so that went without saying!

oh man, favourite muses! listen, i've been doing this hobby for like 10 years at this point (I think I started in 2014, so it will be 10 next year), and i've gathered many many muses bc i'm a gatherer like that. I also answered something similar to this last year, so i'm linking it here plus some more to add bc i don't shut up about things i love!

again, content warning bc i tend to love writing more criminal characters, or at least darker tinged ones bc that's where i work best! (specifics for death, murder)

Added just two, bc clearly those were the ones at the top of my head! in terms of aesthetics, I like to play subverting expectations because that's always fun, and i do love my tropes and cliches. Never met a cliche i didn't want to keep around! I hope this was helpful, my love!

my baby girl Serafina Espinoza, leader of her coven that she inherited from her mother and killed her older sister for. Yeah, Serafina has always been a power-hungry kinda girl, but to her credit, she didn't want this power for herself. She was always pro-witch liberation and witches should land on top kinda person and she had these lofty ambitions for her coven and witch-kind in general. But beyond that, she never really knew what she wanted for herself, till she met and fell in love with a werewolf and for the first time in her life, things were different. Generally, I do not like playing femme characters that need saving from the patriarchy and Serafina does not fall into that category. It was just that a new perspective helped her see that there's more to life than just fighting and dying for a cause. Her fc is always Ana De Armas.

my baby BOI Olivier Chevalier. Although now, since I revamped his character, he goes by Sang-hun Cho. He was the eldest son to a corrupt politician and heir apparent to the family fortune. Also, he is a doctor. But importantly, he faked his own death to get away from his family name and the only thing he regrets is not taking his brother with him when he went on the run. Sang-hun is a sweetheart and a soft boi who never wanted to get his hands dirty, even though he did everything to appease his father and take his attention away from his baby brother. His pinterest board can be found here but essentially, he's a cutie and a nerd and a doctor! I keep switching FCs between Steve Sang-hyun Noh and Kim Woo Bin.