#I get it your still figuring things out and also you need to find your wife who is still trapped in the game… I understand sweetie

[mariasont]

A Puddle in Running Shoes A.H.

summary: your boyfriend finds out you have a praise kink and is having way too much fun with that information

masterlist

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

warnings: some suggestive content, hotch being a menace, reader having a praise kink, end suggests something may happen but nothing explicit in this one folks im getting my libido under control swear, also count how many times r refers to hotch's face as stupid im crying

wc: 1.9k

You hated running. No—loathed it. Detested it. Despised it with every fiber of your being. If there was a stronger word, one that captured the burning, irrational rage you felt whenever someone suggested going for a jog, Spencer might have known it, but you couldn't bring yourself to care enough to ask. Simply put, running was not your thing.

But when Aaron—your boyfriend and somehow the most persistent man alive—asked you to join you on a run, you couldn't exactly say no. He didn't beg—Aaron Hotchner did not beg—but his version of asking, that soft it'd mean a lot to me paired with an encouraging smile, was close enough to begging in your book. Besides, you figured there'd be some sort of reward when you got back home. Aaron was good at those.

So here you were, contributing absolutely nothing to your marathon-obsessed, fitness-loving FBI boyfriend's training. Sweat coated every inch of your body, your legs felt like lead, and your lungs burned with every ragged breath you managed to suck in. The sun blazed overhead, making you feel more like a roasting chicken than a willing participant in this so-called fun activity.

Aaron, on the other hand, looked like he'd stepped out of a fitness ad—shirt clinging to him in ways that felt outright scandalous. Even the sweat on his face somehow made him look even more attractive.

He was at least ten paces ahead of you and every few steps, he'd glance over his shoulder, probably checking to make sure you hadn't spontaneously combusted or snuck off to find an air-conditioned cafe. Honestly, both were real possibilities.

Aaron's pace slowed until he was running beside you, throwing you a smile so unfairly handsome it made your legs feel weaker than they already did.

"How are you feeling?" The question felt retorical—anyone, profiler or not, was sure to be able to read you like an open book right now. "Still alive, or do I need to start figuring out the best way to carry you home without breaking any traffic laws?"

"I think I'm alive," you managed between gasps, wiping sweat from your brow. "But if carrying me is on the table, I'm not above playing dead to make that happen."

"Not necessary—I'd carry you anyway, if only to reward you for keeping up this long. You're doing great."

You foot caught a crack in the pavement, nearly hurling yourself into it, but Aaron's hand was there quicker keeping you upright as you tried to ignore the terrifying way your body had reacted to his compliment.

"Okay you can't just say stuff like that while I'm trying to run," you blurted out, avoiding his gaze. "You're trying to kill me, I swear."

You planted your hands on your hips, still trying to catch your breath, secretly relieved to have a break—even if it almost involved a face-first meeting with the sidewalk.

"Stuff like what?" He tugged at your ponytail and you swatted his hand.

"Nothing," you said way too quickly, shaking your head like you could physically toss what you said aside. "Forget I said anything. Let's just... keep running."

You quickly realized your mistake as soon as you started jogging again. You would never willingly suggest to keep running. Unfortunately, Aaron was actively aware of this, moving to come up beside you. You didn't need to look at him to know he had the stupidest smirk on his face.

He didn't say anything at first, to your immediate relief, just kept jogging beside you. The silence stretched on, his calm breathing only seeming to make your wheezing sound worse.

"You're breathing too shallow," he said after a moment, his tone completely casual like he wasn't even winded. "Try to take deeper breaths—match them to your strides. It'll make it easier."

You glanced towards him out of the corner of your eye before attempting his suggestion. You had no intention of letting him know that it worked. His ego was far too substantial for that.

"See? You're a natural," he said, shooting you a sidelong glance. "Atta girl."

Your brain flatlined and you almost tripped over your feet again, every rational thought replaced by static. What was wrong with you? You vaguely remembered reading somewhere that people with unresolved daddy issues were prone to developing praise kinks. Was that what this was? Whatever the reason, hearing Aaron talk like that shouldn't make you feel all gooey inside, but here you were, a puddle in running shoes.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, yup, fine!"

You stared at the ground so intensely, it was a miracle you didn't bore a hole into the pavement. Your voice had betrayed you, far too shaky and way too rushed, and you knew Aaron was probably filing away every bit of your reaction.

"Hey," he said softly, his hand brushing against the back of your neck as he spoke. "Stop staring at the ground. You'll run better if you keep your head up—it'll open your chest so you can breathe easier."

His hand lingered for a second too long than what your body could handle, leaving you completely flustered and fighting every urge to do exactly the opposite of what he said.

"There you go," he murmured, a small, approving smile tugging at his lips. "That's good, honey. Just like that."

His voice—his god forsaken voice—was like a jolt to your system, and not in a good way. Or maybe it was a good way, which was the problem. It was bad enough to hearing it out here, on the jogging trail, but your brain decided to replay it in an entirely different inappropriate context: one that involved you, him, and a bed.

Your face burned, and you couldn't tell if it was from the exertion, or the very real possibility that your body was too receptive to those words. And now, not only were you fighting for every breath, but you were trying to figure out if the dampness between your legs was entirely from sweat. Surely it was sweat. Right? Gods, you hoped it was sweat.

You stopped so suddenly that Aaron jogged a few steps ahead before he realized you were not longer beside him.

"Okay, I'm calling it. I'm done. Can we please go home now?"

He jogged back to you, an easy smile on his face, and placed his hands on your shoulders as he reached you.

"Alright, we can be done," he teased, thumbs brushing lightly over your collarbones. "You survived, and you did great. I'm proud of you."

He leaned down then, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips that made the ache in your body a little easier to ignore.

When he pulled away, you barely managed to keep standing.

Aaron let out a low laugh, his hands squeezing your shoulders. "Alright. What's going on? What's wrong with you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," you said over your shoulder, practically power walking towards the car.

Aaron's laugh deepened and you ignored the funny feeling curling in your chest.

"Sweetheart," he said, gently tugging your elbow to slow you down. "Come on, talk to me."

"There's nothing to talk about, I'm fine!" You avoided his eyes as you tugged your elbow free. "I'm just tired, and, uh, need a shower."

A cold shower, your brain screamed, but you shoved the thought down.

"I know, I know you're tired," he said, lips curving into a smile, "but that's because you actually pushed yourself. I'm proud of you for sticking with it."

You were pretty convinced you were you were about to go up in flames. Your obituary would read death by too many unnecessary compliments. When your heart inevitably gave out, Aaron would have to explain to Rossi and the others how his dumb smile and sweet words had resulted in second degree manslaughter.

But then you saw it—the smirk. The one that said he absolutely knew what he was doing.

"Oh my gosh, you know!" You groaned and threw your hands in the air. "You know, and you're enjoying this!"

Spinning away from him, you stormed to the car, and slammed the door like it might shield you from his stupidly smug face.

You barely had time to exhale before the passenger door swung open, revealing Aaron, casually leaning against the car.

"You know," he said lightly, his tone far too casual for your liking, "slamming car doors isn't a great habit. You could hurt yourself."

"And you know," you snapped back, pointing at him, "torturing your girlfriend isn't a great habit either!"

He leaned in slowly, his fingers brushing against your shoulder as he grabbed your seatbelt. As he clicked it into place, his face lingered close to yours.

"I wasn't trying to torture you, baby. Just wanted to give you the chance to admit it—that you liked it."

Before you could muster a reply, Aaron's hand slid up to cradle your face, his thumb moving along your cheek. He leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was so deep, leaving you no choice but to sink into it, even as the faint remnants of your annoyance tried to surface.

By the time he pulled back, you felt like you were under his spell. Then, without another word, he shut your door and headed to the driver's side.

"That's not fair," you muttered, crossing your arms and pouting as you stared out the window.

Aaron's hand found the back of your neck as he backed out of the parking spot, rubbing gently into smooth circles.

"I don't mean to be unfair," he said with a small smile. "I just needed to hear it, because sometimes people don't even realize what they need until they say it out loud. And I wanted to make sure I didn't misread anything—though I'm rarely wrong, as you know."

"Trust me, you remind me every chance you get." Your tone was dry, but you were well aware that the twitch in your lip was giving you away.

"Alright, smartass," he said, chuckling as his fingers pressed a little firmer into your neck. "Now tell me—how does it make you feel when I say those things to you?"

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. "I don't know, okay? I just... like it! Do I have to explain it?"

"You don't have to explain it if you don't want to," he said, "but I'd like to know what it is you like so much."

Aaron's hand moved from your neck to your hand, his fingers sliding between each of yours while his eyes stayed glued to the road, a thing that only came from months of familiar motions.

You let out a long breath. "I don't know. I just like hearing it. It makes me feel good. Special, I guess."

"You are special, sweetheart." His eyes flicked to you before returning to the road. "You're my best girl."

Your stomach flipped violently. You shifted again, trying to disguise the way your thighs pressed together tightly as your face burned hotter than ever. The debate earlier in your head was officially over—absolutely not just sweat, you thought miserably.

Aaron let out a soft chuckle, fingers brushing over your knuckles. "Something I said?"

You swatted his shoulder, your glare losing all its bite thanks to the flush all over your body. "You're enjoying this way too much."

"I can't help it," he murmured, voice dipping just enough to get you on edge. "But don't worry—I'll take care of my best girl once we're home."

You slumped in your seat, muttering something unintelligible that made Aaron chuckle again. And even though you wouldn't admit it, you found yourself smiling, already dreading and anticipating whatever he had planned when you got home.

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[mayakern]

Question about upcoming button up shirts!

Myself and two other people of very different body types from me (sizes L, 2XL, and 6XL) who all loved the fit of the skull button ups and were very sad to find the dragon button ups didn't fit remotely similarly (worse for all three of us, despite still being the closest match on the size chart) when ordered in the same size.

Are all the future shirts all going to be like the dragon ones? And if not can the difference it cuts maybe be specified so it's easy to know which is which? Because it will effect our purchases.

Thanks!

the new button ups don’t fit the same because they are not the same fabric! the GOTS cotton had a decent amount of stretch to it while the viscose does not have any stretch, which is noted both in the listings and the relevant size charts

but i think i know what happened here. unfortunately shopify keeps reverting my links. i don’t know why and it drives me insane. i’ve fixed them so many times and its a coin flip if it sticks or not. i’ve just asked devin to take a closer look so hopefully they’ll get it figured out.

i also just hid all the old size charts so hopefully yall won’t be able to see them at all (i resisted doing this for ages bc i wanted people to still be able to have access to size charts for old products but clearly this just can’t be a thing anymore)

ANYWAY best practices to make sure you are seeing the correct size chart: all our new size charts will have at least a few sentences of text that will tell you how to find your best fit. this includes information on the fabric used (including how stretchy it is) and how the garment is meant to fit. any size chart that doesn’t have this information is old and bad.

for similar garments (like the viscose button ups vs the cotton button ups) you can double check the best fit guide and make sure that the fabric information matches what is said for the listing.

i’m really sorry about this wall of text and how confusing i know this must be. i have tried to fix it so many times. hopefully the combo of hiding the pages and having devin take a look later will fix it. 😭

in the meantime if you or your friends need size exchanges please email hello@mayakern.com and ash will get you sorted

[cryptid-killjoy]

Willem was always going to be a guy down for a HTH break in. It was just the sort of adventure Wild Will was in toespecially if it ended in chilli dogs.

Willem also wasn't sure he ever thought of himself as a father figure to any of the dolls yet. Caretaker? Yes. Father, somehow, he didn't see himself as that even of his own creations even if that might have been somewhat true. Thoughts for another, perhaps. Emotions that hadn't quite matured or been labeled, perhaps.

"A mother? Hmm. I guess I can see that. I'll think about that."

He left it at that for more pondering later. What he knew for sure and did not have to think any longer on was Figaro looked cool as fucking get out with a firearm like that. It straight up suited them. Willem decided it was hot and gave it a double glance, maybe two.

"You look like a video game... in a cool way."

The compliment felt needed.

But moving along into the Livvy's home. Willem wouldn't know Figaro would have expected, but he knew what to expect with how many times he'd made these excursions to check the dolls. He navigated the home with ease.

Figaro wasn't wrong for thinking it was sad. Willem knew it was. It was why they didn't mind when Figaro first chose to stay at the ball. Sad things like this were often easier done in private. Modesty for humility. Smalls said no judgement and Will felt safe enough he wasn't unaware of how it would come off.

They laughed about the shrine and even turned red to some extent.

"I'm pretty sure she's my number one hater wherever she is now and has a voodoo doll of me and with its nuts in a vice on a Battleship board and keeps tossing it overboard. I have a theory they had something to do with Pan's flood making the blizzard melt day randomly a double hard moment for us because only she would hate me enough right now to want to make every moment of my life as hard as it could possibly be."

Even saying his theory out loud made him laugh.

"I'd have deserved it though. From her mind. We broke up after sailing on a ship across the water. Trying to drown me just makes sense to me. Poetic Justice. Whatever better form of justice is there?"

Despite it being oddly morbid he said it playful with humoral candor.

Then Figaro agreed to head on out and search for Livvy's uncle's closet.

"Okay, that's good. You come find me then."

He was going to go looking for Smalls, but Smalls said they'd come back when they were done, so they changed their mind and would wait for Smalls to come back to them.

When Figaro headed out Willem went along with his routine of tinkering with each shelf. He'd careful take ever figurine and doll off one shelf at a time and neatly lay them on the bed while he dusted the shelf and then cleaned the figures themselves before standing each one back one at a time. As he did this, he'd make sure any soft ones were fluffed and their dresses were tidied, shoelaces or bows flounced, and hats properly straightened. If Livvy had told him anything particular about the doll, he'd go through that memory in his mind to pay it homage to what sentimental value it held in the secrets of their faces. To the one he had no information he sent the same appreciation because there's sentiment in the bond of a knick knack, a memento, a toy, that's far stronger than just a memory.

He once considered memories like pages in a book of who a person is. They can be turned and re-turned again. He could read the same chapter more than once as many times as he liked for fun, but never truly relive it. A souvenir or memento of a memory is simply that, a small token. It could be thrown away or lost, but the memory still exists. The chapter can still be filed through in one's recollection. A doll however, a toy with a face, for some reason feels different to Willem than some token. Even silent it looks back. It gives the feeling it experienced all your eyes saw in that same memory. It experienced what you did. A shared experience becomes a friend not a souvenir. One can look into those non-moving eyes and think they were there. Maybe it was nuts? However, if you were a person who could also take those same dolls and bring them to life if he wanted the idea might not seem so farfetched. Lifeless dolls might seem more important than just some old attachment that needed to be let go of.

To Willem's credit he hadn't gone as far as bringing any of Livvy's dolls to life, but it had entered his mind. He was under no delusion he'd ever see Livvy again and he didn't want his old girlfriend's living dolls being a drain on relationships. He was bright enough to realize that could be a deal breaker moving forward. He just hadn't gotten to the fully moved forward part yet.

Okay, so he'd done a little messing around. Zero existed. Even Piper existed, more new, Nutmeg. These were not people who were ever going to be in Willem's life in a permanent way. They were when the mood hit kind of friends. These were complicated friends, not actual relationships.

All that said, none of it was on its mind now. Just the dolls were. When he finished with the cleaning, he'd pick up that mermaid again and sit down on the bed. It had a tendency to get the most favor and longest time being held. It had the vast majority of memories attached for Will. He laid back with it. He sat it on his chest and admired its face as he relaxed. He'd glance over at the shelf and give it a smile. Then he'd smooth over the mermaid's glossy hair. Motions like had a way triggering other past memories like turning Livvy into a doll at Barbie and Ken's party. He remembered the texture of her hair and the sand. He recalled the paints. He could relive every brush stroke of the artwork like muscle memory as porcelain slid under his his fingertips.

He sang one of the lines to the song he wrote Livvy just above a whisper. "If you don't feel that this is real then I'll just walk away. Way deep down I know I found the that proof that love can save. So take some time to figure out what this thing is all about. I hope some day you feel it too. I promise that I'll try to love the best I can. You make me a better man. Whatever this is leading to. For the first time I'm gonna listen to my heart."

Then he took a big breath and sat up. He kissed the little figurine. "I guess it all led me to you pretty lady. I saved you from the boxes. I can live with that."

Then he shined up her face one more time before placing her back in her proper place knowing full well his heart would always be with the dolls. It would be a big enough win for him.

"Thanks for being a part of that." He added as he tapped one finger tip on the glass after closing the shelving unit back up.

It left a smudge.

"Woops."

So, he went to Windex the last spot before he was completely done with the room. He cleaned it spotless enough for a bird to smash into. He was pleased with his work. He joked to the dolls, "Lucky this thing isn't a patio door."

“Now that would be entertaining to see. Especially if you two do the awkward dance of trying to pass each other but stepping in each other’s way,” Figaro said. Bright sides, sunny sides, you had to have the light to be able to have the dark too. Figaro tried to keep the balance.

Chili Dogs. Now that sounded good. Just the thought of it was enough to get the hunger going, the saliva flowing, despite being in this stink of a place. “Fuck it, we’re sneaking into Halloweentown one of these days. Once you try one of their Chili Cheese Dogs, your life isn’t going to be the same.”

Hansel as a handsome guy though? “It’s weird,” They said. “I feel somewhat … almost maternal over him? Guess I kind of am a parent now.”

What an odd thing to think about. What an odd thing to realize. In Funkytown, the dynamic hadn’t really changed. Figaro was in charge but hardly ever acted on it. It felt - wrong, somehow, to try to take control, having watched Gepetto give them their own autonomy, their own thoughts, their own actions. So Mr Punch kept being uncontrollable. Hansel kept living in the walls and being a bit of a pervert, his human body still having human feelings, thrusting against a wall while watching through a peephole.

“Yup, keeping this on me,” They agreed. It was not a good smell. Eventually all of the flesh and organs would rot away and then it would just be bones, which didn’t have as bad of a smell, but right now, it was pretty rank. The place needed some sort of Fabreeze cleansing. Or maybe Frank and Delta spent so much time up in their castle, they didn’t even know that it smelt so bad down here. They needed some sort of comment box, in Figaro’s opinion.

All of their information about guns came from movies and videogames. They knew at the very least to turn on the safety for now, until they would need it. “All I need are some green plants, and we’ve gone totally Resident Evil in this bitch.”

Great minds think alike. Figaro was also all about upgrading their setup at home. Getting a bigger TV, though the vintage one had been moved into their room, because they weren’t going to get rid of Gepetto’s things, other than giving some to Willem, of course. But it felt like he was one of Gep’s kids too. The stuff was THEIRS. Not just inherited by Fig. Better sound system, more gizmos and gadgets.

Figaro let Willem take the lead since they didn’t know their way around the apartment block. They had the gun in hand, waiting for a chance to use it. To ‘blast them’ as Thomas would say. Their knowledge of annoying curses and animal speak wasn’t the most useful for a zombie situation, except to get birds and other animals to let them know where the zombies themselves were. They had to bring out the big guns.

They didn’t say anything about Willem having the key. It just made sense, given that he came to visit the dolls. Others might have found it a bit romantic, perhaps, that he kept visiting his ex’s apartment, taking care of her things. But Figaro just found it practical.

The two of them went through the building, checking around corners, making sure that there wasn’t something waiting on just the other side. But it looked as if the building had mostly been cleaned out. Any life that was here that would have drew the zombies in, disappeared a long time ago. Still, once inside of the apartment, Figaro turned the lock on the door to feel a touch safer.

Though they were anxious to get at that Hawaiian shirt collection that hopefully had not been eaten away from bugs or faded by light coming in through the windows, they were curious about Livvy’s room, and would follow Willem inside. It wasn’t exactly what they had expected.

The shelves were new, and taken care of, that much was clear. It wasn’t covered in dust and cobwebs like everything else. The dolls seemed to be in a place of prevalence. They stood out, like they were an important item in a video game or something, rendered more predominantly.

“I’m a little surprised,” They admitted, hands on their hips, looking at the girliness of the room, the teal color that was on everything, the bit of a mess of clothes from when Livvy was deciding what to pack all that time ago for the big boat trip. “I was expecting a huge shrine to you,” They said, looking to Willem. “Or did you get embarrassed and take that down?”

They weren’t trying to be funny or teasing, that’s genuinely what Figaro thought that they would walk into when it came to Livvy’s space. A whole wall plastered with pictures of Willem, maybe some with Fig but with Fig’s face cut out or something like that. Pieces of his hair, his toenail clippings, on a shelf. This was a voodoo town after all, it wouldn’t be hard for some white girl to get their hands on some sort of love potion or DIY-Voodoo-Doll set. But it was actually pretty … relaxed in here.

They were watching Willem more than the dolls after that, making sure that he was going to be alright while doing this. But maybe it was something that he just needed to do, the way that some people just needed a big cry. Something about it being cathartic.

‘Miss her if she comes back.’ ‘Don’t get too lonely.’

It was … kind of sad.

“Yes, I’ll leave you guys to talk and gossip and … do whatever it is that y’all do in here, no judgment,” They said, putting their hands up and backed out of the room slowly. “I’ll come find ya once I finish raiding that closet.”

[impactrueno]

some stuff about lydia's jacket in Beetlejuice Beetlejuice. hope you guys are ready for another thinkpiece no one asked for:

right so. colleen atwood decided to give lydia (and rory) these garments that seemed so unfinished it was distracting me. but i know there's a reason for every costume choice, so i watched this super short rundown she gave about a few of the outfits in one of the promotional videos for the movie, but i was disappointed that she didn't say anything about this one. i knew i had to draw it at some point so i really needed to know what it's supposed to be. a friend who went to the Afterlife Experience prop exhibition even took photos of the damn thing up close at my request, just so i could take a closer look and see if i could figure it out. but nothing. i didn't know how to draw it and it was driving me insane. i felt stupid. like what am i missing here

months later here i am, browsing pinterest for my beetlejuice inspo boards and i randomly find it and others like it:

and this is how i learned that these were created by british designer elena dawson. the way this article described this style made everything make sense:

Her Victorian frocks with unfinished seams and hanging fabric strips speak of ghostly things, simultaneously ephemeral and imprinted with history, the stuff of Tim Burton and Helena Bonham Carter, a witchy presence in the world that no longer cares for fairy tales.

more:

Maybe it is this ghostly presence that informs Dawson’s work, which reflects her fascination with death. “The relation between clothing, ritual, and death is of great interest to me,” says she. “In some respects, through clothing I am also working through my relationship to death.”

and the way she described it herself:

“When you work on alterations you are really tearing the guts out of the garment, performing a sort of autopsy—you really get to see a garment at its most vulnerable point. Observing this state of semi deconstruction in the making of a garment or shoe is what I like to retain in my finished work.“

oh my god.

the clothes are lydia. they are purposefully incomplete.

lydia's whole deal in the movie was that she was messed up from of all the shit she's been through to the point where she's no longer herself. the events in her life have been slowly picking the threads of what kept her together, what makes her her. delia has this great line that basically sums up lydia's pathos in the movie: "you need to take back your life from those hanger-onners, from this thing," meaning rory and beetlejuice. "where's the obnoxious little goth girl who tormented me all those years ago? it's time to find her."

i'd wager they made rory wear the same style of deconstructed jacket for the funeral specifically because he was trying to come off like this was a tragedy to him just as much, that he's "vulnerable" like the deetz women right now. you know, his whole modus operandi and all (unnecessarily large handkerchief included.) interestingly enough, lydia does NOT wear the loose thread jacket that would match rory's coat here. her own outfit is still by the same designer though, so it's like...they match, but also don't. they're in a relationship, but don't fit together.

according to interviews, using elena dawson designs was winona ryder and justin theroux's idea that they brought up to colleen atwood, and can i just say that i love how much input they had on their characters? justin in particular had SO much fun playing rory, his interviews are great. he owned the role. he knows a lot about fashion, so he was the first one to suggest this look and vibe for him.

as for winona, she wore dawson herself multiple times during the promotional tour for the movie. like, this is just her actual wardrobe. you can tell she had fun trying to emulate lydia's bangs and ponytail with these fits too.

i don't know much about fashion, honestly. but i love character design and telling a story through a character's clothes. so obviously i'm nerding out about this hardcore. perhaps i should learn more about fashion so i can do cool stuff like this too.

[moody-alcoholic]

These Violent Delights

Chapter 22 - Someone Special

Summary: Poly 141 x fem!reader, a/b/o alternate universe 10.7k words. It's the Christmas special almost a month late. Also feelings, lots of feelings.

CW: a/b/o alternative universe, a/b/o dynamics, typical a/b/o universe tropes (scenting, nesting), alcohol, panic attack, PTSD, mentions of nightmares, mental health, mentions of past abuse.

AN: Sorry this chapter has taken so long to get out. Between the horrid writers block and the lack of motivation it was really hard to get back on track.

Previous - masterlist - next AO3

enjoy <3

When you wake the house feels different. You can hear more voices, more people around, strangers. It makes you nervous, you hear the front door open and close. Suddenly the house doesn’t feel safe anymore. You slip out your nest, your shoulders and legs are stiff. You didn’t change into pajamas and your body has been stuck in an uncomfortable position all night. 

You decide to walk through the hallway to get to the kitchen so you can see outside. You can see there are more cars now, people mulling around Piper is talking to someone in a soldier's uniform over the hood of a car. The hairs stand up on the back of your neck, there are too many strangers around. It makes you want to cling onto John, you need to be around your pack, you feel safe around your pack.

“Mornin’ lass! Pancakes?” Johnny asks, as you walk into the kitchen. You look out the window, you can see John and Simon in the garden with their backs to you. You nod at him.

“What’s going on?” You ask sitting down at the kitchen island. You can see puffs of smoke rising above John and Simon’s heads. 

“That major from yesterday is back. He’s going to talk to us I think.” 

“About where we’re moving too?” Johnny shrugs, pressing a plate towards you. 

“I would recommend lemon and sugar.” He says smiling. You reach out for the sliced lemon. You’re spooning sugar on as you hear someone else walk into the room. Hairs stand up on the back of your neck, Kyle’s hand lands on the top of your back. You’re nervous, on edge. There are strangers walking around the house, things smell different. You don’t trust any of them. 

Last time you put your trust in a stranger it didn't end well.

“Did you sleep well?” He asks sitting down next to you. You nod pushing a piece of pancake round your plate you’re not really hungry anymore. The back door opens and Simon walks in, he pulls a ski mask down over his face. Things are already changing, you’re going to miss seeing Simon’s face, the mask always makes his eyes look darker, angry, you can never read his expression.

“Roll it up.” Johnny says, smiling at you. You look back down at the pancake gripping the edges and rolling it up. Even as Johnny puts a mug of tea down for you you’re still not hungry, there’s a pit forming in your stomach. You poke the rolled up pancake round, John walks through the door next you look up at him. 

“C’mon,” he gestures for everyone to follow. “Simon go find Williams. Let’s get this over with.” You leave the food following John over to the table. You sit down between him and Kyle, you’re nervous picking at the skin around your fingers again. Kyle’s hand lands on yours stopping you. You look up at him and he smiles.

You’re trying to control your scent, you don’t want to worry them. You lace your fingers with his and squeeze his hand. Simon comes back in the room followed by Piper and the Major from yesterday. Now you’re getting a better look at him. He's shorter than you thought, although next to Simon anyone looks tiny. 

His hair is still immaculately groomed, he's freshly shaven and dressed in a casual suit. He looks round the table smiling. He looks young, younger than Johnny or Kyle.  

“Nice to finally meet you properly.” It takes you a second to figure out he’s talking to you, his arm stretched across the table. You stare up at him not sure what to do, you don’t want to shake his hand. “It’s okay, they said you were shy. I’m Major Williams, I work for MI6.” He takes his hand a way going round to sit in the empty chair. 

“I’ve spoken with Captain Price about what's going to be happening. We have a facility ready for your use, it used to be a pharmaceutical research place.” He says waving his hands. “It’s perfect actually, the army were using it for training but we have people down there working to rebuild the lab.”

He reaches down to his side, clicking open the bag he bought with him. 

“What’s MI6 doing with a disused pharmaceutical lab?” Kyle asks.

“That’s classified.” He smiles pushing a file over to John. “Finding a scientist to meet Dr. Montgomery’s strict guidelines was hard but I think we managed it.” You watch as John opens the folder, he holds it in a way so you can’t quite see it angling it so Simon can get a look. 

“Fleur Goodwin, she’s a geneticist with an MD, and has a PHD in biotechnology, and she has lab experience. She was working at the London before she was fired and stripped of her MD. She agreed to work on the project so long as we wipe her criminal record and reinstate her medical license.” He explains.

“What did she do?” Johnny asks.

“Practicing eugenics on unknowing patients. We were lucky, managed to take her before the police could get to her and prove anything.” 

“Great so we’re working with criminals now.” Kyle scoffs, you squeeze his hand. 

“Technically she hasn’t been charged with anything. We needed someone who could be discreet, someone who has no ties and who can disappear.”

“What does that mean?” You ask suddenly, a shiver runs up your spine. Everyone has gone silent turning to look at you, the only noise is John passing the folder over to Piper. You feel like you’ve done something wrong. Williams eyes dart from you to John. 

“The project is very hush hush, we don’t want any other nations knowing about it. Someone with no family or partners means less likelihood of information being leaked.” Williams explains. “Speaking of, we can’t approve of Kate Laswell’s help. She’s CIA. If they asked why we’re commandeering one of their agents they might get suspicious.” 

“She can keep her mouth shut.” John says.

“I don’t doubt that but anyone outside this room is a lability, it’s best she stays away.” John lets out a sigh shifting in his chair. You squeeze Kyle’s hand again and his thumb starts to brush yours. You wish you could disappear into the chair. You stop listening to Williams as he starts to list of things Dr. Montgomery and John have asked for. You watch him talk. Sometimes he notes things down, his eyes avoid you as he nods listening to people or reading more things.

“Is there anything you want?” Williams asks, turning to you. You’re surprised he asked. You look round the table. Your mind is drawing a blank. You shake your head feeling heat rush to your cheeks. 

“She likes to read.” John says, you look over at him and smile. Maybe you’ll get a massive bookcase like the one in the living room. He nods looking round.

“A bath.” You say suddenly, you’ve enjoyed having a bath. He nods again, writing something down. You swallow the nerves, rubbing the back of your neck.

“Dr. Montgomery is going to come down with me to oversee the lab and meet with Dr. Goodwin. We should be ready before the end of the week.” He says pushing himself off the table and standing up.

“Does that mean we get to stay here for a little longer?” You turn to ask Kyle. He smiles nodding at you, that makes you feel better. You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding and lean up against him. You want to stay here for as long as possible, you love this place, you like being away from everything. 

“If you have any questions in the meantime then you know how to contact me.” He says moving to leave the room. “We’ll take the American car, leave you with one of ours.” 

“We’re fine with the American car.” John says. 

“I would rather them not be able to track you.” Williams says. John sighs and gets up out his chair. Simon and Piper follow him leaving you alone with Johnny and Kyle. Johnny moves into the seat John was in. 

“So what do you want to do today?” Johnny asks. You shrug, whatever you do you want to be near then, be around them as much as possible. 

“Maybe we could go for a walk later. There is more to see besides the loch.” Johnny says. You nod smiling at him. You keep yourself pressed against Kyle's chest letting his hand rubbing your arm. They talk between each other, you’re not listening though. Your mind is preoccupied with what happened a few nights ago. 

You shot a gun, you could have hurt your pack. You don’t even know where you got it from. Now there is a new person, a stranger Major Williams. And the new scientist Fleur Goodwin. You don’t know if you trust any of them, or if you want to. 

John and Simon come back into the kitchen, you can hear the car leave. 

“Do you trust them?” Kyle asks. You sit up looking over at John. 

“No, but it’s better than working for Shepherd. We can keep our distance from shadow company.” John says. You believe him. 

“Sure Piper going with them was a good idea?” Johnny asks. John sighs almost like he doesn't want to say anything.

“She’s insurance.” John says, you’re not sure what that means but everyone seems to understand. 

“Is she going to be okay?” You ask.

“She’s going to be fine.” John smiles at you. “Let’s just enjoy the next few days together. Before we know it we’ll be moving down south.” 

“Where are we going?” You ask. 

“Dartmoor, it’s lovely, we’ll be right in the middle of a national park.” John says. 

You smile at him as Kyle's hand squeezes your thigh. All you want to do is spend time with them. 

——————————

You thought you would have 3, maybe 4 days. Instead you’re disappointed that after almost 48 hours John said you all would be leaving the next morning. You wanted to go to the loch, one last time you wanted to see it again, it was like you needed to say goodbye to it or something. 

It was here you decided you wanted to forgive John. It was where you let Piper go and where you accepted her again. 

It’s just a lake, but it’s a beautiful lake. If you end up coming back anywhere you want it to be here.  

The sun is low in the sky, everything being lit up in shades of orange and pink. The snow has melted, you can see the different coloured stones as you walk down to the edge of the water. 

“I’m going to miss it here.” You say, John's hand presses against the small of your back.

“The south is nice too. We’ll be pretty isolated, we can still go for walks. And I promise we will come back here.” He says his arm going round your waist pulling you closer to him. 

“Don’t promise anything you can’t keep.” You say. You feel tears escape your eyes. You don’t know why you feel so sad. He walks round to your face holding your shoulders. 

“I promise this is going to be different. When we move it’s going to be our way. You don’t have to worry about anything. I promise.” You smile at him, he smiles back, his hands come to cup your face, his thumbs brushing the tears falling down your cheeks. 

You want to believe him, you close your eyes forcing yourself to believe him. In the end you throw your arms around him squeezing him tight. You let out a long breath, his arms wrap around you and he kisses the top of your head.

“We’ll always be here for you. We won’t let anything happen to you or Piper. That I can promise you.” He says. You squeeze your eyes closed, you believe him. You can hear the sincerity in his voice.

“Thank you.” You say. You break away from the hug. He leans down to kiss you, his hands running over your body. You pull away first as a cold breeze moves in. Your nostrils flare his scent fills your nose, you relax against him, safe in your alphas arms.

He moves to the side holding you against him. He lets you stay for as long as possible, you lose yourself watching the water lap against the shore and trees blow in the wind. You walk back slowly, stopping at the field with sheep to feed them some weeds John pulls for you. 

By the time you get back it’s dark, the house is quiet. John said you would have to be up early, you assume everyone has already gone to bed. 

He helps you take your coat off while you kick off your shoes. He grabs your hand trying to lead you up the stairs, you stop as your foot hits the bottom step looking back into the living room. 

“What is it?” He asks frowning. You let out a sigh letting his hand go and stepping back. 

“I want to sleep in my nest.” That's a lie, you have to sleep in there, away from them. You feel like he can sense it’s a lie too as he steps down to you, his fingers come up to brush your cheek.

“I know it’s not the most comfortable place. You’d sleep better in a bed. You don’t have to be with me.” You shake your head. 

“I don’t want to hurt you.” You say hanging your head, he sighs his hands coming down to rub your arms. 

“You don’t have to worry about that.” He says, you look up at him swallowing hard. He bends down to kiss you.“ You’re safe here, you know that right? We would never let anything happen to you.”

“I’ve hurt people before like this. I would wake up surrounded by people I hurt. I could hurt you.” You say. You push back from him, you can’t be around him right now everything feels wrong. When you’re sleeping you have no control, no matter what John says you really could hurt him. “I- I just need the night.” 

He looks at you like he understands but you’re not sure he does, he just wants your company and you want him too you’re just terrified you could hurt him. 

“Okay. You know where we are if you need us.” He reaches down and kisses the top of your head. 

“Thank you.” You say dropping your hands from his waist. 

——————————

John wakes you from your dream. Your dreams have been getting worse and worse. Your sleep was restless, you don't feel rested. Your body is stiff. You dreamt about Piper again, she was trapped in the bunker filling with water. There was nothing you could do to save her 

You miss her, you miss how things used to be. Things are going to change now no matter what anyone says. At least you’ll be together, at least you’ll be round your pack. 

“C’mon, it’s time to go.” You sit up letting the blanket fall off your shoulder. You’re leaving your nest again. It feels different though, you might actually come back here. This place feels like a home, it’s the first time you’ve ever felt like this. It’s like a safe, warm cocoon. You stand up picking up the fluffy blue blanket and pillow. You want to take them with you at least. 

John’s hand lands on your shoulder as he guides you out the room, it’s still dark and cold as you put your shoes on. He takes the blanket and pillow out of your hand passing you a jacket. When you walk out the front door you see there is a layer of fresh snow on the ground, you can see Johnny and Simon throwing bags into the boot of the car. 

You turn to look back in the house one more time. You really hope you can come back here. The place is dark and locked up, it looks lifeless. You look up at John who smiles down at you. You smile back and follow him out the building and over to the car. The outdoor lights and lights from the car are the only things lighting the area up. 

“Who’s driving first?” Kyle asks. 

“You offering?” Simon asks slamming the boot closed. 

“I’ll drive first.” John says his hand moving to the small of your back. You get into the back of the car scooting up next to Kyle. John hands you your blanket and pillows. 

“How long is the drive?” You ask, still tired. 

“Around 10 hours.” Kyle says, you sigh laying up against him. He helps pull the blanket over you more. “You going to take a nap? It’s still early.” You look at Johnny coming back from the house, all the lights are off now. You nod yawning as Johnny gets in next to you. His hand rests on your thigh. 

As soon as all the doors are closed the car starts to heat up. You wrap your arm around Kyle nuzzling into him further. You watch out the front windows as the sun starts to peek through the clouds. It doesn't take long for the motion of the car to rock you to sleep.

…

John stretches his back as he waits for Simon to finish fueling. Johnny went into the service station to buy coffee and sandwiches. You’ve slept for the past few hours switching from laying against Kyle or Johnny. That's good, at least the journey would be less stressful for you. 

“How much longer do you think it’s going to take?” Simon asks, putting the pump away. 

“Couple more hours, maybe 3. We’ve made good time.” John says looking back in the car, he watches Kyle kiss the top of your head, pulling the blanket back over your shoulders. You’ve been mumbling in your sleep, you're more restless than normal. He can see the dark circles forming under your eyes. He can never make out what you’re saying but each time it happens his eyes snap to you, hairs rising on the back of his neck. 

“All good Price? Simon asks. John lets out a long breath and nods going over to the front passenger door. 

“She’s still not sleeping in a bed?” Simon asks. 

“No, she feels more comfortable in her nest, it’s her safe space.”

“It's not good for her, she made such good progress, now there's new people. And Piper.” Simon says stopping in front of John.

“She’s just going through the motions. She’s not used to trusting people, she’s been through a lot over the past month.” 

“Yeah.” Price can hear it in his voice. There's something else.

“What is it?” 

“I don’t trust it.” 

“Good.” John smiles. 

“Look at these!” Johnny calls coming back over to the car. He’s holding up an ugly Christmas sweater in one hand and a tray of coffee in the other. 

“You were only going in for coffee.” Simon says moving over to the driver's side.

“Look at them though!” He says handing the coffee and a bag of food over to John and walking round to the back of the car. “I think she’ll love it.” Johnny says throwing the bags in the back of the car. John and Simon get in, the slamming of the boot jolts you awake. 

“Hey, we’re almost there.” Kyle says as you look round the car. Simon’s in the driver's seat now. 

“Where are we?”

“Stoke-on-Trent.” John says. “Should only take a few more hours.” He turns to look back at you. You yawn rubbing the back of your neck. Your fingers tracing over the indents of his mark, you smile back. 

You hope the place is nice, everything you’ve been told about it makes it sound nice. But it’s still just another lab in another place where you’re going to spend your time being poked and prodded. You’re here for a cure now that’s what everyone wants. Apart from MI6, they want the formula. 

You’re still not sure who’s worse, the Americans or the British.

…

When you get to the building Piper is waiting out by the entrance. The building looks strangely out of place circled by a tall chain link fence and a layer of trees. New trees, short trees some don't even reach the roof of the building, it's almost like they’re trying to hide it. It means you're not going to see much sunlight 

The building is smaller than you imagined, white concrete that's been weathered over time. Massive windows with frosted glass meaning you can’t see inside. There’s a strange statue out the front and you can see the outline of an old logo. 

When the car stops everyone piles out. You stretch your legs taking in the rest of your surroundings. The drive through the national park was beautiful, plenty of sprawling moorland and dense forest. You had to go through an army checkpoint to get here. Apparently they use these moors for training, you don’t know if that makes you feel safer or not. 

You smile walking up to Piper who hugs you. It’s good to see her again, she’s safe although she looks tired. You hear someone closing the gate, that makes you feel safer. 

“How was the drive?” She asks as John and Johnny walk up behind you.

“Long.” John says. Piper smiles.

“Come on in, I'll show you around.” She says and you all follow her in. The entrance is massive open plan, and you can see up to the second floor. There’s a front desk with the same sign from outside on the wall. Some word you can’t pronounce. She takes you through to the rooms on the right first. There’s a large dining room and a really big fancy kitchen, it reminds you of the mess at the base in America. 

There’s also a toilet and a small gym. Johnny and Simon seem happy about that. The last room is a large sitting room. There’s a bookshelf too, stocked full of books, and a rather comfy looking chair. You smile at Piper going over to it and running your fingers over the books. 

It’s perfect, it's bigger than one in Johnny’s house. These books will keep you occupied for hours. Johnny and Kyle almost have to drag you out the room. The left side of the building is the lab. 

“We’ll meet Fleur, she’s pretty energetic so fair warning.” Piper says. The first 2 rooms you walk past are an office and a medical room. Then one large room on the end opens up into the lab. The whole place is crammed with machines and tables. You see someone jump out of a chair coming over to you all.

“Hi! I’m Dr. Goodwin, but you can call me Fleur!” She is almost bouncing over to you. Piper introduces everyone. She’s pretty, dark skin like Kyle and long braided hair. You step back as she reaches you holding out her hand. You back up, bumping into Johnny who’s hands land on your shoulders. 

“Johnny!” He extends his hand over you, she shakes it smiling up at him. Her eyes look back down to you.

“Dr. Montgomery said you’re shy, sorry I’m just so excited to meet you.” She says, dropping her hand. She seems to be able to tell you’re uncomfortable. And she backs up pressing her hands together.

“Fleur is very excited to get started.” Piper says.

“Yeah! I can’t wait. I have so many ideas. I think this is going to be great. We’ll have a cure and perfect the formula before you know it!” Her enthusiasm is a bit too much for you right now, you’re tired from the long drive. 

“I guess Piper has explained most things?” John asks from behind you. She nods, smiling at him. 

“And I’ve read all the paperwork. I’m very interested in the nuances of scenting. Can you smell things we don’t smell? How exactly do you form a bond through scent?” She asks, looking at you. You don’t know how to answer, you open your mouth to speak

“Let’s let them have some rest, they’ve had a long drive.” Piper says. You let out a sigh, you look up at Piper wanting to thank her. “The second floor is all rooms, the one on the far left of the building is yours John, it has the en-suite bathroom.” 

“Okay, how about everyone goes to pick a room while I have a quick chat with Dr. Goodwin and Piper.” John says. No one needs to be told twice, turning to leave the room. Simon stays behind too. Johnny and Kyle walk you up the steps. Each room is identical with 2 beds and 2 wardrobes. It looks like standard military design and furniture, it’s like the rooms in America. 

“Think this room is yours lass.” Johnny calls from a room on the far left. You look in, it’s the only room with a double bed. You can see through the door in the room that leads into a bathroom. You step in looking round. 

You sigh, backing out of the room. Not yet, you need your own space. You walk into the only other room next to it. You walk in looking round at the two beds pressed against opposite ends of the room. When you turn you see a key in the door. You smile. 

“I like this one.” You say walking back over to the door, taking out the key and slipping it into your pocket before Johnny can see. He sticks his head in the room and smiles.

“C’mon then let's get the bags.” He says, wrapping his arm around you. 

——————————

The dim lighting in the lab makes the whole place feel ominous. The high ceilings and massive windows make her feel more uncomfortable for some reason. John has been accommodating, advocating for her and her work as well as her freedom when it’s done. She has no bad feelings for him leaving her, she thought she was going to die. 

She’s sat in her office, she can see lights are still on. Fleur will be packing up before leaving for the Christmas break. She’ll only be gone for 3 days, Piper should take her up on her offer to spend Christmas at her place. She looks down at the paperwork spread across her desk. It’s everything MI6 could get for her, everything she requested and then some.

All she needs to do is perfect the formula and create a cure before Hale. Easier said than done, especially with only one other scientist and one eye. Losing half her sight is making her nervous though, more than normal. It feels like she’s seeing things, her brain trying to compensate for the spots missing in her vision. 

There’s a knock on her door. She looks up seeing the figure through the frosted glass. 

“Come in.” Piper calls. Fleur walks in with a smile beaming across her face.

“I’m leaving. I just wanted to check you definitely didn't want to come? It doesn’t have to be christmassy, we can make pizza.” She says cheerfully. Piper smiles, shaking her head.

“Thank you but I have too much work to get through.” Piper says. Fleur huffs pulling the bag tighter on her back. 

“Is there anything you need me to do?” Fleur asks. Piper smiles at her shaking her head. 

“Go enjoy your Christmas, relax, you're going to need it.” Piper says. Fleur nods and leaves. Piper hears her leave the building then looks back down at her papers. She’ll need to organize everything at some point, for now she just wants a starting point.  

The lights in the lab turn off, the place feels gloomier than usual. She looks outside, the whole building is surrounded by forests, deep in the national park. The place is pretty secure, surrounded by private army land. Piper was told it wouldn't be uncommon to hear live fire or have soldiers using the building as a way point. 

She doesn’t care though, it’s safe, it's secure but most importantly it's hundreds of thousands of miles away from the people who want to hurt you. Her mind turns to the professor, what must have he been thinking when the building collapsed on him. How did he manage to slip a pill in someone before he fled? 

Did shadow company help the whole time? They were escorting the investors to the mansion, maybe they got him out then? That wouldn’t be good news, then more people outside of Graves and shadow company would know Hale is alive. John doesn’t seem too worried about the whole thing, he really puts a lot of trust in Kate. 

There’s a banging and grinding noise. For some reason it makes the hair on the back of her neck stand up. Fear fills the air, she looks over at the door, the lights are still off, suddenly the high ceilings feel like they're closing in. There’s a pop and another bang. It sounds like bad piping, maybe that's all it is. All she can think about though is that dark rainy night. 

She gets up out her chair going over to the window. It’s dark out, the rain is starting to come down, the gate on the fence has been closed, she didn’t see the car that came to pick Fleur up. Her heart is hammering in her chest. She closes her eyes trying to get herself to relax. 

That just makes things worse. 

Before she can stop herself she panics, her head swims and she finds herself moving to hide behind her desk. She’s not in the UK in a lab right now, she’s in the mansion and Hale is coming. The banging doesn’t stop, she can hear the wind whistling, picking up speed. 

Then she can smell alpha, her eyes snap open as her hand fumbles on her desk to turn the light off. He’s coming and he's going to find her. Her breathing is rapid; she can smell her fear in the air. He’ll be able to sniff her out. There’s more banging, a knock on the door. She pulls herself further into the corner of the room slapping her hands over her ears.

“Piper?” She doesn’t recognise the voice. The door opens and lights flash on. A yelp leaves her throat as she closes her eyes waiting for the inevitable.

“Dr. Montgomery?” Hands grip her shoulders, shaking her. She snaps up looking at the person calling her. It’s Simon, his fingers are digging into her skin. In the space of a second she remembers where she is. She’s not in a building that's about to crush her, she’s not in the bunker.  

“You okay?” He asks. Her heart is hammering in her chest, she looks round the room, her eyes frantic. Simon frowns; he takes his hands off her shoulders slowly even so she flinches. There’s the sound of banginging and popping again, her eyes flick up to the source of the noise. 

It was just the pipes. 

“I’m fine.” She says moving to stand up, she goes to grip the edge of the desk and misses. Her balance wobbles and she slips. Simon steps forward to catch her.

“No!” She panics, trying to control her scent trying to regain her balance. “I’m fine, I got it.” She presses her hand on her chest trying to control her breathing. She turns away, closing her eyes letting out a long breath.

��Has this happened before?” He asks. 

“Yeah, once or twice. It’s the pipes.” She turns, pointing at the ceiling.

“Have you told John?” 

“Why? Give him more to worry about? It’s under control.” 

“You’re having panic attacks, PTSD that's serious.” 

“It’s not PTSD, just-” She huffs. “It’s not PTSD.” Simon hums watching her as she goes to sit down at her desk. There's a heavy silence in the air, Piper can feel Simon’s eyes digging into her. He crosses his arms.

“What do you want Simon?” 

“Price wanted me to ask about sleeping pills.” He asks, she raises an eyebrow. 

“For him?” 

“For the omega.” 

“She won’t take them.” Piper says, sighing and pulling the keyboard over to her. “I’ll order some though.”

“She won’t sleep anywhere other than her nest. John’s worried she’s regressing backwards.” He says. She stops typing and looks up at him. 

“It’s normal. When she has these night terrors it’s distressing. She’s probably worried about hurting you.” She says. Sleeping pills won’t help, it’s not the fix for this therapy is, but Piper is not exactly a therapist, her help can only go so far. Besides, now she has her own mental health to worry about. 

“Has she ever hurt anyone? When she used to do it in the bunker?” Simon asks, Piper shifts in her chair, it’s the question she’s been hoping would not come up. She has to be honest with them, but there are too many secrets, the more they keep from you the worse Piper feels.

“Yes, she hurt people.” She swallows the lump in her throat. 

“Killed anyone?” 

“Not to her knowledge.” Piper's face darkens. She keeps eye contact with Simon, she can see him gripping his mask in his hand. She hadn’t even realised he had it on. Simon lets out a frustrated sigh. 

“Maybe if she doesn’t want to talk she might be able to write it down.” She suggests. “Christmas is coming up, I was going to get her a diary, try and encourage her to write her thoughts down. Maybe it would make more of an impact if it came from her pack.” 

“Thanks, I’ll keep it in mind.” He uncrosses his arms and turns to leave. 

“Simon.” She stands up out her chair almost like she wants to reach out for him. “You’re not going to tell John about this are you?” She expects him to say yes. It’s his job after all, he can’t ignore it, she just has to prove to them it's nothing serious. He lets out a sigh tipping his head for a second.

“If I see it happen again, I need to report it. If you say it’s under control there's nothing to tell.” He doesn’t turn to look at her, she lets herself smile. 

“Thank you.” She says. He walks out the room in silence. 

——————————

The next morning you’re woken early by knocking on your door.  You pull yourself out of  bed. You didn’t dream last night, for the first time in almost a week you didn’t dream of anything. Maybe things are getting better. Maybe you won’t attack them again, or maybe the moment you let your guard down that's exactly what will happen. 

You twist the key in the lock. 

“Merry Christmas!” Johnny says. Before you can say anything he wraps his arms around you. He breaks from the hug holding up a jumper with a massive blue and white snowflake on it. He has a similar one on with the face of a man on. He’s got a white beard and a red hat.

“C’mon we’re all wearing them.” he says. 

“Even Simon?” You ask skeptical.

“Of course! We have a deal, once a year I get to pick an outfit for him. I usually save it for Halloween but this is way more fun.” He winks at you and you take the jumper out his hands. 

“Who is on yours?” You ask pointing at it. 

“Santa.” He says pulling the bottom of the jumper and looking down. “Father Christmas, you know who goes around putting presents under trees for all the good boys and girls.” You look at him confused, frowning.

“Trees? Like outside?” Johnny chuckles then shakes his head. You go back into your room to change. Seems like you know nothing about Christmas. It's not like you ever did anything special, you don’t remember celebrating it before the bunker. The only way you would know it was Christmas was you would be left alone, most people would be gone. Hale would give you a gift, usually a book. He would be unusually nice, in the evening he would get drunk and make you lay on his lap. When he fell asleep you would sneak back into your room and read your new book.

You don’t think you like Christmas, but this all seems so different, the matching jumpers and Kyle said he wanted to cook a big meal. You finish changing, at least the jumper is warm. When you walk out Johnny beams at you and throws his arm over your shoulders.

“Okay, Gaz is cooking us a meal and asked for your help personally.” He says as you walk down the steps. “Then we’re going to do gifts and a good old fashioned Christmas film.” Before you can even think about the fact you didn't get them anything you’re interrupted by Simon.

“Got the whole day planned, huh Johnny?” You both turn to see him come down the steps. His jumper has a picture of a deer with big antlers and a red nose. You frown. 

“Watch this.” Johnny says leaving you and going over to Simon. He presses the nose and it lights up a faint tune plays. Johnny laughs but Simon does not look impressed, you smile at him though.

“Rudolph the red nosed reindeer?” Johnny asks. You raise an eyebrow shaking your head. Johnny tuts and comes back to throw his arm around you. You all head into the mess where you can hear music playing. Kyle is already in the kitchen, you can see him chopping vegetables. You break away from Johnny to go over to him. 

“Merry Christmas.” He says, he turns so you can see his jumper. It has a tree on it with a star on the top and red and gold balls. You look through the serving window to see John already sat down at a table. Johnny and Simon join him, Johnny’s showing off Simon's jumper which makes Kyle laugh too. 

He hands you a drink in a fancy glass. 

“Bucks fizz.” He says you take a sip. It tastes like orange juice but you can taste the alcohol too. You put the glass down, you’ll have to take it easy this time. “Want to help with the cooking?” You nod and he offers you his knife and you continue on the veggies. 

Kyle brings over a turkey and talks about what he’s doing while you watch in awe. Johnny comes into the kitchen every now and then to top up peoples glasses. Kyle’s eyes dig into him, swatting him away and ignoring his cooking advice.

As you’re finishing your first drink Piper walks into the room. She has a jumper on too, that you didn’t expect. It’s pointy leaves with red berries by the looks of it. You try to catch a glimpse of John’s but with the way he’s angled it's hard to see. Piper laughs with them, accepting a drink from Johnny. She smiles when she sees you, you can’t really hear what they’re saying over the joyful music.

Kyle has you working all the way up until the food is ready to be served. You like it, you like spending time cooking with him, he teaches you how to do new things. How to use the blender and the oven. You’re making all sorts of roasted veggies and these pastry things called ‘yorkshire puddings.’  

“Smells good.” Piper says coming into the kitchen. You turn to see her.

“Kyle’s been teaching me.” You smile, you take another sip of your drink. You like the way alcohol mellows you out. It’s like it takes the heavy feelings away, it’s like you can relax without even thinking.

“Take it easy on the drinks” she says going in the fridge to take out another fancy bottle. 

“Yeah, I will.” You say going back over Kyle who’s taking the turkey back out the oven. 

“Want to baste it?” he asks, handing you a brush. You nod, taking it from him. He teaches you how to do it, picking up the juices and spreading them back over the turkey. When you’re done you move on to sweet stuff, a christmas cake that smells more like alcohol then a cake and mince pies that don’t actually contain meat. 

It feels like time is flying by and before you know it you’re ready to plate up. You help Kyle take everything out. He insists you only carry the stuff in cooled bowls no matter how many times you tell him you don’t mind. 

You finally get to see what’s on John’s jumper but you don’t know what it is, it’s white with a face and what looks like sticks for arms. 

“It’s a snowman.” He says when he catches you squinting your eyes at him. 

“A snowman?” You ask looking up at him. 

“What did you normally do for Christmas in the bunker?” Johnny asks. Suddenly it feels like there’s a heavy silence in the room, even the joyful music suddenly sounds sad. Johnny seems to regret what he said pretty quickly. You look over at Piper who gives you a little smile. You can see the sympathy in her face though. 

You go back into the kitchen. Kyle hands you a plate piled high with the yorkshire puddings. 

“That’s the last thing. I’ll bring the turkey.” You smile at him and take it back out into the dinning room. It doesn’t matter what happened with the professor, or before. This is new and different and you’re doing this with your pack.  

As soon as you’re putting the plate down Johnny is reaching over for them as Simon is spooning veggies around all the plates. 

“Slow down.” John says, tapping his hand out the way you sit down next to him. Simon reaches over to pass you a plate filled high with veggies and stuffing. You don’t even think you will finish what you have and there is still turkey to come. Johnny has come over to sit on the other side of you. There are ‘oohs and ahhs’ as Kyle brings out the turnkey. John makes room on the table for it, stepping back to give Kyle room. 

“Christ that’s big enough to feed a family of 20.” Johnny says. 

“Think of the turkey sandwiches tomorrow.” Simon says, almost licking his lips. You smile looking up at Kyle who hands a knife to John. 

“Care to do the honors sir?” He asks to sit next to Simon. 

“Speech!” Johnny claps enthusiastically. John rolls his eyes at him and sticks a prong into the turkey. He carves a piece off like he’s done this a thousand times.

“Ladies first.” He says holding it out for you. You hold your plate up for him, when he’s done Piper holds her plate out. You like that they’re including her even if it is just for convenience. You like her being around. You’re glad she’s back but you’re still not sure if you want to ever fix the bond. 

Right now you don’t care Johnny pours gravy all over your food. You look up at him.

“There’s no way I can eat all that.” You say. He smiles at you passing the gravy round. 

“Eat what you can. Tomorrow I'll teach you how to make bubble and squeak.” Kyle says. You do just that, eating until you feel like you're going to burst, while listening to everyone talk. If there is one thing you’ve come to learn is there is never dead air with them. Johnny will always find a way to fill it, he seems to always have a story for anything.

You don’t manage to finish in fact the only people who do finish are Simon and Johnny, Simon even going back for more.  Johnny sits back in his chair with his arm wrapped around you rubbing his stomach.

When they’re done Kyle offers everyone cake which gets refused straight away. 

“Trying to fatten us up Gaz?” John asks as you sip on your drink trying to settle your full stomach. 

“Do you eat like this every Christmas?” You ask. 

“And then some!” Johnny says squeezing your thigh. You lean up against him, you look over at John and he smiles at you.

“Why don’t you and Kyle go pick a film, we’ll clean this up.” John says  standing up. Johnny groans as you sit up picking up your glass and following Kyle out the room. 

…

After the table has been cleared up everyone but Piper comes into the living room. Simon says Piper had work to do but she might be around later. You don’t mind too much, your belly is full and the alcohol has mulled you out, you’re laid on the sofa in Kyle's arms, his hand rubs your side as you watch the film playing on the TV. 

“That food was amazing.” Johnny says, although he bought a plate of mince pies and put them on the coffee table. 

“Kyle cooked most of it, I just helped.” “Don’t be silly, I couldn't have done it without your help.” Kyle says kissing the top of your head. 

“I think I'd like to be a chef.” You say.

“You’d be a good chef. I’d come to your restaurant.” Johnny says.

“Think I could have a restaurant?” You ask. He’s sat on the floor between Simon's legs, munching on a mince pie besides complaining about how full he is. John walks into his room with a cigar between his lips. He smiles walking over to Simon. Handing him one. 

“Merry Christmas.” Simon reaches over, taking it out his hand, he sniffs it looking up at him. 

“Cuban?” 

“Mexican, Alejandro and Rudy sent them over. With love.” He smiles.

“We should send them something back.” Johnny says.

“Already did," John says. Simon moves over to give John room to sit down. Johnny takes that as his que to pull something out from down the side of the sofa. He comes over to you handing you something wrapped in newspaper. 

“I didn’t have time to get any proper paper.” He says, you sit up from Kyle taking it out his hand. You frown going to rip it off.

“You didn’t have time to get Christmas wrapping but you managed to get us all jumpers?” Kyle asks, chuckling. It’s a notebook, it’s pretty with thick pages and a blue leather bound cover. There’s a long thin box too. You open it and see a fancy looking pen and pencil set. 

“You know if you want I’ll teach you how to draw?” Johnny says. 

“You can draw?” You ask him flipping through the blank pages of the book. 

“It doesn’t have to be for drawing, whatever you want.” He says. 

“Thank you.” You say turning to Johnny and hugging him. 

“S’ alright, it’s technically from all of us, the art lessons are on me though.” He says, you chuckle, breaking from the hug. When you turn you see John standing in front of you with a small box in his hands.

“This is definitely from all of us.” John says handing you an unwrapped box. You open it, it’s a necklace. You take it out, it has a charm it looks like a ‘C’ on it but it’s turned 90 degrees. It’s beautiful, smooth silver and a matching chain.

“It’s the Greek symbol for Omega.” Johnny reaches down his shirt pulling his dog tags out. “We all have one.” You squint looking at him, it’s a matching ‘B’ you look up at John who takes his out to show you a similar ‘A’ they all have one. 

You hang your head running your thumb over it. You feel tears welling up. 

“Do you not like it?” Kyle asks, his hand coming to rub your back. 

“No, I like it… I really love it.” You say sniffing the tears away, you look up at John then Simon sat on the other sofa. “It’s just-” 

“What is it, love?” Kyle asks scooting closer to you, wrapping his arm around your back. 

“This isn’t forever, Pipers back, there’ll be a cure then things will go back to…before.” You hang your head. You feel Johnny’s hands on you now, he’s moved closer to you. “I don’t remember my life before the bunker. Professor Hale, Piper, being an omega. That’s the only life I know. Now I have you, all of you.” Johnny rubs your back as you rub your thumb over the charm.

“When you’re cured, the urges you feel about me will go. We won’t be a pack anymore. We won’t be anything.” Johnny’s hand comes to your chin pulling your head up to look at him. He smiles at you, tipping his head slightly. 

“We love you. Christ love, do you think we’re just sticking around for the cure?” He brushes the tears off your cheeks, you want to nod but his grip on your face won’t let you. He leans in and kisses you, long and slow, his hands cupping your face tight, brushing your cheeks. It’s like he’s kissing you for the first time. 

You almost forget there are other people in the room until Kyle’s hand moves down to the small of your back. You break from the kiss and Johnny lets your head go. You don’t know what to say, you’re not sure what to do, you just look up in his eyes. You turn looking back at John. He kneels down so his face is level with yours. 

“I don’t even know what love is. I read about it in books.” You sigh, you don’t know how to react. You don’t know what to say. You do love them, they’re your pack, of course you love them. 

“You know that feeling you get. The one deep inside of you, the one you get when you think about us, any of us.” he asks, placing his hands round yours. You nod, it's like the feeling you feel with Piper but different. You love Piper, you know that, you have always known that. With John and your pack. It’s a different kind of love. 

“It’s just because we’re a pack.” You say. Even your connection to Piper was fabricated by her and Hale, planting a mother figure in your life so you had something to cling onto. It’s all just instincts, instincts that will be gone when they’re all cured. 

“It’s not, it’s love.” You look up at him frowning. “I love you . Not because you’re an omega, not because we’re a pack. Maybe things started that way but now things are different.” You’re just looking at him with your mouth hanging open, he smiles at you and leans in to kiss you, his hands squeezing yours. 

It feels different, you let yourself sink into the kiss, his words swim round in your head as you lean into him. When he breaks from the kiss he stands up, his hand coming to stroke your cheek. 

“I love you, we all do.” He says. 

“It’s true, love.” Johnny says, pressing his lips on your neck and taking the necklace out of your hand. John's hand leaves your face as Kyle pulls your chin to look at him. 

“We’re a pack, and you’re our omega but we love you . That's not going to change when we get the cure. Love doesn’t move on like that and neither will we.” He kisses you too, letting his hands run up and down your thigh.  

When you break away you feel Johnny secure the necklace round your neck. Kyle comes up to brush tears escaping down your face. You look down at the necklace feeling it against your skin. John moves to the side and when you look up Simon has taken his place. He reaches down and pulls his tags out. You can see the silver ‘A’ you smile at him. 

“We all love you.” He says. Before you can say anything he leans down to kiss you. You don’t know what you were expecting. You thought he would be rough, he’s not though, his lips are soft, his kiss is slow, deep as he presses his tongue against yours. He takes your breath away, his hands cupping your face.

A hand comes up rubbing your back. You can’t tell if it’s Johnny or Kyle. You don’t want to break from the kiss, trying to kiss Simon deeper to get him to keep his lips on you for longer. He pulls away though and you look up at him. 

“What took you so long?” You say, before immediately regretting it. Feeling heat rush to your cheeks. He hums and you hear Johnny chuckling behind you. His thumbs rub your cheeks. 

“I don’t know.” He says his smile is soft like his kiss, his eyes glisten in the low light. You stand up, he holds your arms, his grip is strong. You reach up and kiss him again, this time his arms wrap around your back pulling you against him. Your hands go to the base of his neck, you feel him tense, his tongue leaving yours. You break from the kiss moving your hands to his shoulders.

“I’m sorry-” He stops you with a quick kiss. His hands run down your side as he takes you in like it’s the first time he's ever looked at you. His hand comes to tip your chin up, you smile at him and he leans down pressing a kiss on your head. 

“Can I sit with you?” You ask him. He nods his hand running down to your waist. He pulls you over to the sofa. John moves to give you space and you sit next to him pulling your legs up. You turn so your back is tucked into his shoulder. His arm wraps around your chest and you put your legs over John’s. 

He smiles at you rubbing your thigh. You did good, you can tell by his smile, the way he relaxes down further into the sofa. You’ve made your alphas happy. 

…

“I think she’s asleep.” Simon says his arm is still wrapped tightly around your chest. John stops stroking your leg and looks over at you. Your eyes are closed, head tipped against Simon’s shoulder. He smiles, it’s good you’re resting. He knows you’re worried about hunting them. Simon told him about his chat with Piper. It’s something to be expected, just something you’re used to. Part of your trauma that won’t go away unless you’re willing to talk about it. 

It shouldn’t be like that. You should always feel safe. There’s no more bunker anymore, no more professor or experiments. But like you said earlier, that’s your life and it's down to them to prove to you otherwise. 

John looks over at the other sofa, Kyle and Johnny laid against each other. Kyle already has his eyes closed and Johnny looks like he’s about to fall asleep too. 

“Take them to bed.” John says looking back over at Simon. 

“Sure there’s nothing you need?” Simon asks. 

“No, I’m okay.” He says Simon nods sitting up. Gently moving you over to John’s arms. You mutter blinking awake.

“Come here.” John says, reaching out for you as you turn your body and lay down in his lap. John adjusts the blanket so it’s over your shoulders. 

“C’mon you two, it’s late.” Simon says his hand resting on Kyle's shoulder, he blinks awake stretching.

“Aye, leave me be.” Johnny says wrapping his arm around Kyle

“You’ll fuck up your back falling asleep on the sofa.” Simon says, reaching down to pry his arm off Kyle and help him to his feet. Johnny protests then Kyle gets up. He looks over at you laid on John’s lap and smiles.

“Night.” Kyle says before following Johnny and Simon out the room. 

“Where do you want to sleep tonight?” He asks, his hand comes to stroke your hair.

“Here.” You say sleepy. John lets out a long sigh tucking your hair behind your ear. Your hand goes up to your necklace, maybe you could try sleeping in the same bed as him again. 

“John,” you open your eyes, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Will you stay awake until I fall asleep?” 

“Of course.” He says. 

“I’m still scared I'll hurt you.” 

“I know, I'd like to see you try though.” He says, you turn to look up at him frowning. 

“There’s nothing in the room you could use to hurt yourself, me or anyone.” His fingers come down to brush hair out of your face. 

 “Okay.” You say sitting up before you start regretting it. 

_______

You fell asleep quickly. It had been a long day, an emotional day. You’d rolled over in the bed out of his arms which was good because he still has one thing pulling on his mind. He reaches over to his bedside table and picks up his phone. It's almost midnight, he knows Piper is still working, he saw the lights in the lab as he walked up the stairs. 

He takes his time slipping out the bed trying his best not to wake you. He goes over to the desk taking the key out from its hiding spot and opening the cupboard. He takes out the bottle of whisky and 2 glasses. He leaves the room without closing the door and walks across the hall to the room he assumes Johnny and Simon are sharing, he knocks on the door quietly trying not to wake Kyle. 

Johnny opens the door, shirtless he leans against the frame. “Bringing us a nightcap sir?” he says, eyeing the bottle of whisky in his hands. 

“Go stay with the omega. There’s something I need to do.” He looks past Johnny to see Simon sat up in bed, they pushed both the beds together. Maybe John interrupted them, for now he doesn’t care he needs to do this. Simon looks up over his tablet, their eyes meet for a second before John moves away. 

“Everything okay?” Johnny asks, walking out the room pulling a shirt over his head. 

“Everything's fine.” He says back as he makes his way down the stairs towards the lab. When he makes it through the door he can see the only light is coming from Pipers office. He knocks on the frosted glass door. 

“Come in.” She calls, when he walks in she looks confused tipping her head, then her eyes land on the bottle. John closes the door behind him and places the glass and bottle on her desk. 

“How's things going?” He asks, sitting down across from her. 

“You know, trying to structure all this. Sift through the relevant and not so relevant research.” She gestures at the papers strewn around her desk. He presses his lips together nodding, he can tell she’s nervous, he can see the ways she’s fiddling with the pen in her hand. He reaches over opening the bottle and pouring some out in both the glasses. 

He picks one up, holding it up “Cheers.” He says before drinking it back.

“L'chayim.” Piper replies, throwing hers back.

“Jewish?”

“Half, on my mom’s side.”

“Never told me if you had family.” He says frowning and refilling the glasses.

“You never asked.” She says, shrugging. “My parents are dead. I have no siblings, never wanted kids, never had time for love. Work was always too important.” She explains, John nods he doesn’t drink his drink straight away though. Waiting for her to pick hers up as he leans back in the chair. 

“Never loved anyone?” He asks, raising an eyebrow. She pauses for a second reaching over for her drink. 

“I loved Vanessa, I love the omega. I think that’s all the love I have to give.” She says, there’s a bitterness in her voice, a sadness. Maybe it’s guilt, he can’t tell. 

“Ever killed anyone?” He asks. She’s shocked by the question, she tries to hide it but he can see; the hesitation in her hand as she brings the drink to her lips. The widening of her eyes, the pen stops in her hand. 

“Never held a gun to someone's head and pulled the trigger if that's what you mean.” She says, swallowing the drink. John does the same.

“But you’ve never stopped someone else from pulling the trigger.” He says as a matter of fact putting the glass back down on the table. He can tell she doesn’t quite know what to say. He gives her a second to think, letting the alcohol mellow him out. 

“My hands aren’t clean if that's what you’re asking.” She says, there’s a change in her voice, it’s darker, strained. 

“Simon told me the omega has killed.” 

“Not intentionally.” 

“And she doesn’t know.” Piper shakes her head. John lets out a long sigh. “Things are going to be different. No more secrets, no more hiding. I want to know everything, everything you ever do or plan on doing to her. I don’t care if it’s as trivial as taking her blood pressure, I want to know.” He pauses to make sure she’s keeping up. She nods, swallowing, he reaches over, picking up the bottle to refill the glasses. 

“She’s not to be alone with Fleur, ever. Do you understand?” She swallows again, nodding frantically. He can smell his alpha in the air. He takes a deep breath picking up his glass. She hesitates, reaching out for her glass and taking a sip. 

“I would-” she clears her throat. “I would never hurt her.” 

“I know. It’s our job to keep her safe. Last time we failed. It won’t happen again.” He throws the drink back sitting up in the chair. She finishes hers too, pulling a face while she puts the glass back on the table. 

“Major Williams said you advocated for my freedom after the work is done.” he nods. 

“Everyone deserves a second chance.” 

“No. When this is over, I want to face punishment.” John chuckles and gets up. 

“If you can make the formula do what you say it can do. You’ll never need to worry about anything like that. You’ll be famous, probably rich, and if we take care of Hale. You’ll be the only person in the world who can make it.” He picks up the bottle screwing the lid back on. 

“What about the omega?” She asks. It stops John in his tracks. 

“You worry about the formula, we’ll worry about the omega.” He says heading for the door. He looks back at her as he opens it. “She’s not your responsibility anymore.” He leaves the room, closing the door behind him. He lets out a sigh heading back out into the foyer. It has to be this way to keep you safe. 

He makes it back upstairs and the door to his room is still cracked open. When he goes in he sees Johnny in bed with his arms wrapped around you. He moves in silently, putting the bottle back in the cupboard and locking it. When he gets over to the bed he pushes Johnny's shoulder waking him. 

As soon as Johnny sees him he gently moves his arms off you and gets out the bed. They exchange silent glances, Johnny tiptoes out the room closing the door behind him in silence as John gets back into the bed. You groan as he pulls your back against his chest. 

“John?” You murmur as he pulls the duvet over you both.

“Yeah, I'm here, go back to sleep.” He says into your ear. You can smell the alcohol on his breath. 

“I love you.” You say your words slur as you start drifting off again.

“I love you too.” He says kissing your cheek. You smile as he squeezes you tight against him. It wasn't a dream they really do love you and you love them. That's the best Christmas gift, your pack loves you. 

Next Beta reader and editor - rememberwren Dividers by gild-ui & plum98

[alacants]

The source of those rumors is a guy from Carlos's family's tennis club who is close to Kiko Navarro & knows some members of Carlos's team & is a regular collaborator with Punto de Break. According to him (he's said this before) Carlos & Juanki had a significant fight towards the end of 2023. But the claim that they nearly split up back then came from someone else who's less reliable.

As for 2025, the first guy says Carlos's dad has apparently not been happy with what Juanki is doing for a while... but it seems like Carlos doesn't agree. If things don't turn around after clay season his family might push for changes to the team.

From my perspective it's hard to understand the coaching strategy sometimes. Like you said Juanki's strength is not tactics but it seems like that's what Carlos really needs. This is just one example but I think it's crazy that he sat on court in silence for three sets without suggesting Carlos change his return position v Djokovic - Carlos eventually figured it out... in the last game of the match. And that was honestly the main factor in him losing. You could argue Juanki wanted him to figure it out himself but why on earth did they not discuss that beforehand when it also cost him massively at the Olympics (which Carlos said he didn't even think about before the match?)

I know Juanki's whole thing is treating team like family but there are a lot top coaches who say that after 5ish years a coach has nothing to give a player anymore & I wonder if their partnership has run its natural course. Carlos doesn't seem any more tactically equipped than he was two years ago & his technicals have mostly not improved either (return... backhand...).

thanks for this background - after replying to some earlier asks i dug around and saw some folks citing punto de break but not any specifics so this is appreciated. this does immediately increase the credibility to me bc i know pdb values their access and would not jeopardize it for nothing lmao. tho if it's like, a guy who sometimes writes for them and is mostly posting on his own time... i guess that's somewhere in the middle. (btw i still haven't seen anything other than reports of reports of reports? if you've got links i would very much appreciate them!)

as usual i think we're looking at two questions here: could carlos benefit from a different coach, and does carlos want a different coach.

i think we are all in agreement that for carlos to continue to develop as a player he needs something he's not getting at the moment, whether we're thinking in terms of incorporating a new addition to the team or making a wholesale switch. and i don't disagree with you at all about the natural lifespan of a coaching relationship. i've cited this before in discussions of juanki's own career (stuck with one guy; was it a mistake?) and of ferru's (split but waited too long; chalked the delay up to personal feelings).

but as long as it's presented to carlos as an all-or-nothing choice i don't think he's there yet and i would not be surprised to find out that his recent post-match declarations were a message. (tbc it very much MIGHT be an all-or-nothing choice, regulars here know i have plenty of thoughts about the academy lmao.)

the thing is that at this point the unknowns are still really, really risky. if you've had the same coach for most of your teen/adult years and you're ready to strike out and try something new, then that's exciting and stimulating and you're in a good place to make the best of it. but if you're dragging your feet? if you feel like you've been pushed? maybe someone else could give you more, but you have to be ready to receive it, you know? if you're an environment that you know enables you overall to perform at a high level (4 grand slams), where you feel overall confident and supported even if you're lacking direction in some big matches, where you get value from your coach's presence above and beyond the specifics of tennis--it is inherently going to be a risk to make a big change and if you're not all in on doing so the risks will be even more likely to find you.

that's why i keep saying is that i don't see it happening unless carlos' results gets much worse than this--or, potentially, unless a voice that holds as much weight with him as juanki's (so, his dad) gets strong enough that he listens to it. that might be where we're headed!

(incidentally i have feinted at this without saying so explicitly, but there is an unbelievable amount of money riding on carlos' success or lack thereof--i don't mean prize money, i mean his brand as a star--and it would be naive to pretend that's not a factor in decision-making. that's one of the reasons i've pointed to a sustained slump, rather than one or two disappointing slams. when the results start to affect the brand.)

just talked this over with friend who compared the ideal set-up to darren/simone for jannik--supervisory coach + tactical/court coach. if so, then the question is whether they come to that same conclusion and get the set-up in place before the decision is out of their hands, so to speak.

[kaeyaswifefromsnezhnaya]

The way Akane stopped questioning Aoi's behavior in the shinigami arc and just started acting.

For Akane to discuss the problem with words through his mouth? Yeah, lol, not far removed from the Aoi he condemns, he's also a big inventor, he's also stuck in his own theory and sees confirmation of it in everything. He doesn't need to find out Aoi's reasons and get to know her better, he consoles himself with the fact that he knows her better than others, he quickly drained the conversation about "what the hell is going on, Aoi, why are you doing this, I'm worried about you" to stupidly keep Aoi to himself. And what's wrong with that, it would seem that not wanting to let Aoi die is normal, but it's just _how_ he did it.

I believe in Akane's trauma now more than in anything else. He needs Aoi to support the trauma, so why talk to her normally? He needs to stupidly get her, so that she would be in his field of vision, in his complete control, that's why he was trying to get her every day. That's why he thinks that they simply need to become a romantic couple, and not just be together as friends, Akane needs to get whole Aoi completely.

But as soon as she suddenly moved away from him more than a hundred meters - he got stuck, he didn't even want to figure it out, Aoi shouldn't leave him. So he grabbed her, said all sorts of things out of anger, because he was tired of himself, tired of watching her, pretending that everything was fine, all his emotions were directed at her, she could really start to irritate him. And he finally pushed her to be his.

Aoi doesn't need to answer Akane that she likes him, he will convince himself of this, the danger has passed, Aoi will not leave him anywhere, and the rest is unimportant. "The Aoi in your head", Teru is right here lol, Akane is the only one playing this game, he literally doesn't need the real Aoi for this, he doesn't need to ask her opinion, he will make it up himself, Aoi is enough to just lie like a doll in his arms. Aoi wanted to leave and so he snapped, didn't let her, but what happened between them won't help them at all, Akane is still feeding this unhealthy need to control Aoi's well-being, Aoi doesn't understand what's going on. I feel sorry for Aoi the most here. As if she is some kind of evil temptress, or a masochist with a crush on her yandere friend, she is maximally intimidated by other people's behavior and confused.

Just as Kou must learn to live and let go of the dead, so Akane must learn to live apart from Aoi. It's a painful topic, he is not ready to let it go, but he should. But instead of moving towards healthy separation, we have 69 with gaslighting (Akane gaslights both Aoi and himself lol). Instead of some therapy, he only feeds his anxiety and the opinion that without it the world will collapse 😭 but wow, it's romantic

[harvestmoss]

Beginner Witch Tips

Where does one even start? Well, there's hundreds of lovely people both on Tumblr and other blog spaces, as well as wonderful beginner books and online resources out there that love to help. This is just one of many other witches takes on what a beginner witch may want to start researching and do, and some extra bits.

Before Magic:

What is magic to you? - You can't start performing magic until you learn how magic functions in your eyes. How do you make sure a spell will work? What is energy in magic? It may be a lot to ask, but it's something to keep in mind as you research other topics that might help uncover this question more, or vice versa, it can help you understand other topics.

Meditation is not *just* sitting and doing nothing - In my path I beat myself up so hard for not being able to sit down with my legs crossed and hands on my knees, sitting perfectly still, and just empty my thoughts for 10 boring long minutes. Meditation is a practice that involves focusing the mind to achieve a state of calm and clarity. Which means that if you can make your mind more clear and calm by sewing, listening to music, doing exercise, chant, etc. Learn what sort of meditation works best for you. I meditate outside by looking down at the ground to find amulets, or swimming, and inside it's when I draw or focus on a task.

Correspondence list - Find out what correspondences (example) basil has, but also, why does it have that? And maybe, it doesn't have those correspondences to you at all! This counts for colours, crystals and other things too.

Closed practices - It's good to know which sorts of practices are closed, semi closed, and open. As well as what practices Wicca preach and so on, it's a way to recognize what perspective your sources are writing from.

Pregnant or medicated people, please be careful - This may seem strange, but before just casting a spell or using herbs, please be mindful of what it contains as some herbs can have negative effects on pregnant people or your medication you're taking. This counts for poisonous herbs as well, know what to avoid or be careful with.

Do your own research - I can spew a lot of things to you, but I can only do it from my perspective. Learn from more than just one place. From both in real life and online.

Time For Magic

Cleansing magic - Figure out how to cleanse a space for magic use, you don't want energies mixing in with your spells. As an example, I can't cook in a kitchen that's filled with dishes and dirty counters. The same goes for spells, I can't perform spells until energies are clear and gone.

Protection magic - Every witch says this. But yes. Protection magic is useful even if you have no enemies. Once you have gotten rid of unwanted energies, it's time to make sure they won't come back in and make sure to up keep your protection regularly.

Warding and banishing magic - Listen, you can clean as much as you want, but you simply won't get rid of mold unless you use bleach. You simply can't get rid of annoying spirits unless you have a good banishing and warding spells you can rely on. Especially if you plan on summoning spirits whenever it's the elements or some high level demon later down your path. You must have a banishing spell in case things go wrong.

Charging and binding magic - Your magic will prove more powerful if you learn how to charge your energy and tools and also binding them to certain powerful uses. You may find a stick and use it as a wand, but it'll be more powerful if you spend the time to charge it, learn about it, and only use it for specific rituals.

Bonus Tips:

Stop researching about different types of witches - Maybe this is a hot take or not. Besides knowing what a pagan and wiccan is and closed practices, there's no need to write about what a sea witch, a hearth witch, a death witch, a divination witch, etc is! When I first started out, I got so stressed out because once I got done writing and research about 10 different witches, another 400 would show up, I gave up about it and used my focus and energy on other more crucial things than "a sea witch is someone who works with the ocean and..." *snores* we know, it's in the name. Besides, you shouldn't focus on labels so early on in your practice.

Amulets are not just shiny jewellery - Movies love to predict amulets and talismans as these hereditary important gemstone necklaces. But honestly, you can make an amulet out of anything. Snail houses, rocks, seashells, bags of herbs, nails, sea glass, horseshoe, or actually your every day jewellery like your wedding ring, earrings, and favourite bracelet.

Self-care witchcraft is not that fantastic - Maybe it's just me but the last thing I wanna do in a "self-care" ritual is clean up all the herb baths and find herbs and grind my own tea. True self-care witchcraft is taking care of your doctors appointment and enchanting them with luck and good news. Or Finally getting around to cleaning the oven (the hearth) so that your home is healthy once again.

Use things you have in your area - Learn what's around you in your city, not just stores but what can you get from parks, lakes, forests, and beaches near you? When do the herbs in your area bloom? When can you harvest acorns? Can you get flowers from the park or do you have to source them somewhere else in your area? Are you able to grow your own stuff in on your balcony or kitchen? And also, be mindful, always leave some left so it can come back next year.

[toxicanonymity]

get to know people

ty for the tags @milla-frenchy, @sunshineispunk, @iamasaddie, @tateypots 💛. I'm tagging you 🫵 and no pressure tagging 10 of you: @dark-scape @quaritchscupquake @whateverloomis @megangovier @xdaddysprincessxx @covetyou @romanarose @aurorawritestoescape @bitchesuntitled @noxturnalnymph sorry if you already did it.

I feel kinda vulnerable (and yet boring at the same time) talking about myself, but one of my goals is to let people know me as more of a person. 🩷

what's the origin of your blog title?: I have a taste for toxic characters, and i was hastily picking a url that would give me more anonymity. this old buzzword floated into my head from 15 yrs ago--I get a kick out of buzzwords that fizzle out so fast they become associated with a very specific point in time. I got the URL on an impulse and figured I could change it once I thought of the perfect url.... Meanwhile I've had plenty of asks and stalkers who themselves embody the old buzzword's meaning: the way a veil of anonymity emboldens hate and toxicity. I just wanted my veil to write porn, man.

favorite fandoms: impossible to say. too many factors.

OTP(s) + shipname: Michael Myers & Corey Cunningham (cunningmyers). it's a deep and fucked up bond, very dark and sexually charged. (Cue father figure 🎶) In my HCs I don't imagine anything soft, affectionate, or monogamous. it's pining and worship from Corey, dominance and dark energy from Michael and his monster cock. And when they kill together, god I love that.

favorite color: depends. My electronics & cases are blue, and I like to wear soft blues. also brown and olive green to wear. Black & salmon/peach: god tier combo.

favorite game: scrabble, trivia, jigsaw puzzles, nyt spelling bee, W.E.L.D.E.R., crosswords, guessing games. I've been trying to learn how to play poker which is great entertainment for @dark-scape.

song stuck in your head: none but I make up songs for my cat and I was singing one earlier about how sweet and nice she is. update: take me to church by hozier

weirdest habit/trait?: idk, really.

hobbies: lounging, research and learning, going to movies, watching miniseries, walking, writing but mostly in my head, taking elaborate baths, reading. getting organized this yr, minimalizing, donating things I don't need. would like to get back into candle-making and painting or clay sculpting.

if you work, what's your profession? Pass. I do work, though.

if you could have any job you wish what would it be? It would be cool to make a living off writing. But, ideally get rich with minimal effort and then financially support an animal sanctuary so I could go chill with the animals whenever I want. also, publicize & investigate missing persons cases that don't get enough attention.

something you're good at: finding four leaf clovers. Cobbling together cosplay from thrift store finds. having ideas. character development & world building.

something you're bad at: socializing, but I want to do better. I'm shy to begin with and some of my experiences here haven't helped. But I promise I don't bite. I'm also bad at staying focused, keeping an uncluttered mind, second-guessing my story plans and not ending them.

something you love: having a pet. I feel so lucky to have a (not so) little furball who enjoys my company and has a personality and lets me take care of her.

something you could talk about for hours off the cuff: not usually super talkative. hmm. predictions about the year ahead - love to hear peoples' thoughts on this (sports, pop culture, archaeology, food & makeup trends, etc.). unsolved mysteries.

something you hate: I don't wanna get anyone worked up with a rant so I'm just gonna say canned spinach. Haven't had it since childhood but I can still taste it

something you collect: I'm not sure I collect anything. I keep a lot of greeting cards received with photos.

something you forget: what I came in the room for, why I opened the app, just about anything.

what's your love language?: little gestures (gifts/acts of service), praise

favorite movie/show: here's my letterboxd

favorite food: fresh pasta w/ olive oil and fresh parmesan

favorite animal: too many to list

what were you like as a child? pensive, curious, loved the circus and Halloween. my mom likes to tell the story of when I was 18 months old and an old friend of hers came to meet me and I explained what a parallelagram was and it freaked her out.

favorite subject(s) at school? English and Spanish

least favorite subject? anything that was straight memorization. But I wish I tried harder.

what's your best character trait? I care about people

what's your worst character trait? easily distracted and forgetful, can be slow to respond, recovering perfectionist

if you could change any detail of your day right now what would it be? That I had to do any work at all

if you could travel in time who would you like to meet? a big, hot guy who captures me but won't kill me if I escape to come back to this timeline.

recommend one of your favorite fanfics (spread the love!):

hounds of hell by @aurorawritestoescape and @milla-frenchy 🐨🙏

some more favorites

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[berryhatfingers]

You said you wanted to make people mad on the internet, and you have instead brought delight to my internet. I love your opinions and share them. So I’m build on what you said and potentially piss people off myself.

I feel like despite it being such a huge deal in TSC the fandom has decided to ignore the fact Jean is 19, that he was 14/16(I can’t remember if he had two years before joining the line and I’m too tired to check) when he was sold and because the most abused and targeted person there. The one Riko learned, practiced, and intensified his sadism on.

Like the sexualization of Jean is so frustrating to me. I get that everyone heals and responds to sexual abuse/assault differently, but that’s not the only thing Jean needs to heal from, there’s also cult-aspects, being owned/trafficked, his sister having been sold as a child bride to her death, years of ritualistic torture/abuse, and others, so much else.

Because yeah, Jean is a fighter, his instinct is to fight, he also fights in his own way: keeping French, his accent, and teaching Kevin the language were just some ways in the nest, he had rebellions, smart ones. What he’s doing a USC is also such a big ‘fuck you’ to Riko hating Jean-Yves the French boy. THEIR PR STRATEGY INCLUDES HIM BARELY SPEAKING ANYTHING BUT FRENCH. Like that interaction in the mall wasn’t official strategy, but it’s such a healing move, he’s getting to fight/rebel safely, not having to panic over public statements/speaking, holding openly hold his nationality, his language, his personhood. THAT is what TSC is about.

Yes, we have simping after Jeremy, and yeah, JereJean is probably gonna start teasing in. But just for some perspective guys, it took me seven years to be able handle that sort of intimacy, friends are hard on their own, but those extra layers that are part of sexual intimacy (which I’m including kissing in) had more layers of vulnerability, trust, and triggers.

I want TGR to be Jean getting to heal, coming into his own, letting him have friends, a home, something like freedom, and maybe a flirtation with Jeremy. But Jean didn’t have friends (‘cause cult) he had alliances, his closest relationship was with Zayn and when that bargain got broken we know what Zayn let be. That was a connection/alliance that Jean had to build and fight for. Renee was complicated, friends that could have been romantic in different circumstances. Renee is the first person Jean was friendly with since his sister who hasn’t complicit in his abuse, and even then she knew about the abuse, and removed him from that environment without his consent and without a plan (thank you Neil for sorting that).

So Cat, Laila, Jeremy, the floozies, the Trojans (minus Lucas) are Jean’s first experiences of friendship and amicable companionship. Let the kid breathe. Because @sidevolt is right, he’s NINETEEN.

SocMed AU is a great little teehee moment, and I love it. But don’t forget canon, how young these character are, how traumatized they are. When thinking about Jean remember he and his sister were human trafficked as children, Elodie died, published is the only version where Jean didn’t, and now he is a traumatized kid who’s trying to figure out what life looks like without daily violence and threat of horrific abuse.

I know a lot of pre-2024 fandom material has Jean as older, but even then he was still what, 20/21? Still YOUNG. I didn’t understand the weight of these character’s youth when I first read these books, they felt old, as can happen when you read about characters older than yourself, but I’m in my mid-20s now. I am still young, but I look at these characters and I feel the heaviness Wymack does, because they’re kids, they’re barely legally adults, but further they’ve had to act adult so much while still being KIDS.

So yeah, don’t sexuality these characters, don’t rush let, let them be, let them heal, let them find their place and their rhythm to life rather than saying their healing should be rushed/haphazard so you can get JereJean to be canon in a month.

Let the art be art. If you want those things write or read fanfiction, I know I’ve come off judgey and preachy in this, but like guy, not everything needs to be canon, and not everything need to happen fast in a series either. That’s the power of fandom, that you can have what you want without the canon. Have an au, canon-divergence, headcanon, ship, dream for post-story future, whatever, I enjoy such things, and you get to as well! We can all enjoy fandom spaces however we do so, these are just my thoughts, k thanks.

(Also an aside @sidevolt if I ever start writing fics I will definitely ask for translation help)

i'm french and in my early twenties, of course i want to make people mad on the internet!

here are some opinions :

- i don't want JereJean to kiss in tgr, Jean is not ready for that.

- Jean isn't a weak submissive damsel in distress, he is a 6ft man who's first instinct is fight. just because he had to submit to survive doesn't mean he's naturally submissive

- and yet he is still a teenager with no normal life experiences, so sexualizing the way some people in this fandom do is weird

- the way some people sexualize any character is weird actually

- the socmed AUs can be funny, even if they're ooc and not realistic

- i want tgr to end with Jeremy's graduation, and book 3 to be about Jean learning to live on his own during his last year

- i don't like it when people use french words in fanfic bc most of the time they don't use the words correctly and it makes me cringe. sorry about that one it's a little mean but it had to be said. i'm more than okay to help with translation tho, just dm me !

that's it for now but there will probably be more.

i'd say "don't like, don't interact" but please, interact :)

[transfem-kirito-truther]

My girl and her depression era cut… what no wife does to you. And also like five years in a virtual death game ig

[sydmarch]

it was so stupidly difficult to find any nutritionist who has experience with arfid & takes insurance so after having to go through all these referrals my therapist sent me & jumping through hoops I lowkey hate the lady lmao feels like such a waste of time & energy

[autisticlee]

sometimes people who struggle like to make jokes or find positives about their condition that causes them to struggle so they can escape the constant negative and struggle. sometimes autistic people will say things like "the 'tism" or use the "autism creature" or say their autism helped them have a *positive trait* to feel better about their struggles. because living your life only focusing on the struggles and negatives is depressing and makes it hard to want to live, even if those struggle take up 100% of your life and you can't actually escape them. sometimes any little seemingly positive thing can help a lot.

but there's so many other autistic people that hate when we do that and call it "reducing autism to a cute trendy thing" and say it takes away from *their* struggles and is bad and shouldn't be used. maybe *you* want to only focus on your struggles, but some people can't live in constant negative and need some positive or to find ways to make their condition more positive so they can feel better about living with their struggles. life is hard. I take anything I can get.

I cant get jobs. I can't make and keep friends. I can't get help and support for doing "normal" things so sometimes I go weeks without being able to shower and without eating more than a bowl of cereal a day. most times can't even do things I like. struggle to communicate. have meltdowns. i'll never be able to live independently. I struggle a lot. but instead of sitting here always depressed and having no motivation to live, i'd rather try to joke about "my 'tism is acting up again" when i'm struggling (just an example. don't think I ever actually used the 'tism thing but i saw others use it) or say "i'm just being a creature" when I need to stay in my dark room because everything is too much and I personally find it cute to be a little creature meant in a positive way. i'm not actually downplaying mine or anyone else's struggles. I still acknowledge them and that silly jokes dont make them go away. i'm not trying to be trendy. i'm not doing any of the things people say we do by making silly little jokes. i'm using the silly little jokes to convince myself life can be a little more than pointless, painful garbage all the time.

(continue in tags)

[widevibratobitch]

omw to play emotional support for my mom disguised as ✨fun family bonding time✨ for the rest of the week <3333 there's something so deeply wrong with me uwu teehee

[keeps-ache]

the worst thing that has come out of me losing every art file from this year is that i can't just eyedrop palettes now. the world is agony

[lieutenantmongoose]

Verse Info: Good and Faithful (or, a polite haunting) 

The Story - 

( Good and Faithful, Codifier )      -     In which Jopson died just before the 1839 expedition. He tends to avoid discussion of how it actually happened, but in any case he had just accepted the stewardship position and had been counting on those wages to pay the doctor for his mother’s treatment, and needed to ensure that she and Avery would be reasonably comfortable in his absence.  

Being that he had neither time nor inclination to be dead, and truthfully not quite even realizing he was dead, Jopson simply collected himself and carried on as usual, under the impression that the whole incident was simply a minor dizzy spell.

The issue, of course, with continuing to pilot one’s corporeal form with a severed connection between body and ghost, is that it’s somewhat akin to clutching a bedsheet in front of yourself while standing outside in a hurricane. And in addition to keeping hold of that bedsheet, you also have to hang up the rest of the laundry on the lines, and avoid letting your neighbors see that you’re out in a hurricane in nothing but a bedsheet still trying to finish your laundry, because odds are your neighbors will have Questions about this type of behavior. 

Fortunately, Jopson had always been quick to catch on to things so it was with only a minor bout of sudden collapses and fits of uncharacteristic clumsiness that he mostly got the hang of the situation before setting sail, and for the most part was able to avoid any trouble. 

Avoiding trouble lasted until a point about halfway through the expedition, when he very nearly frightened Captain Crozier into a similar state by forgetting to shiver. Or keep up a pulse. This almost led to a rather tender moment indeed as Crozier was quite unhappy to see him Dying, but this was abated by admitting to already having been quite dead from the beginning and thus unchanged in status despite what ought to have been a lethal case of hypothermia.

All in all, Crozier was actually rather more amenable to the idea of having a dead steward than he’d thought ten minutes prior, and all continued as normal. 

However

Once the Franklin Expedition begins

( Oh Dear, My Heart/The Moon Plays Host ) 

It turns out that keeping hold of the proverbial bedsheet is a lot more challenging under certain conditions, and there are only so many ‘fainting spells’ that can be got away with without arousing suspicion, and that the presence of a strange magic in the air tends to have interesting effects on ghosts improperly connected to the mortal plane.

It further turns out that this arrangement creates a bit of an impasse when faced with soul-devouring creatures. They are used to tackling a body and pulling the soul from it. The soul simply moving out of the way is not generally expected, and is regarded as highly inconvenient. 

Or, 

Jopson is a ghost during the Franklin Expedition, which is fine, except that improperly tethered ghosts start to get a little bit creature-y the longer they drift in seemingly-cursed landscapes trying to reject their souls like a bad transplant. Also, at night, Jopson can see the crew’s Dead still wandering the ice.