#Morgan Townsend

[g-girlshavingfun]

December Prompts

9) Mismatched socks - Abby x Townsend

6 and a half years after UWS, Abby and Townsend face an early winter morning with the twins. (CW: implied postpartum anxiety)(3,491)

———————————————————————

For potentially the thousandth time in a row, Abby was awoken by crying.

Groaning into her husband-shaped pillow, she rolled over in bed, sneaking one eye open to peer at the clock which glared at her from her bedside table. 3:46 am. Her mental processing was slow, stalled by the early hour and sleep deprivation, meaning an arm had wrapped around her waist, chest pressed against her back, nose nuzzling sleepily into the crook of her neck before she could think to drive an elbow into his stomach.

“Your daughter’s awake.” Her whisper was met with a lazy grunt, thick arm tightening around her, pulling their bodies flush with one another.

“My daughter?”

“She’s being loud and annoying.” Abby would feel bad about saying it if it weren’t true, would apologise to Morgan in her head if she could hear herself think.

“I ask again, my daughter?” Another elbow to the gut and another protesting grunt. She felt her husband smile into her neck, huff a low chuckle, press a light kiss to her skin in apology. “I’m sure it’s your turn.”

She shook her head, trying to pry his arms from around her, “Nope, I fed them a couple hours ago. Your turn.”

“There’s no bottles left, if she’s hungry I can’t-

“-I just said I fed them two hours ago.” Successfully yet reluctantly removing his arms from around her waist, she rolled back over in bed and began pushing against his chest, turning to bury her face back in his pillow. “She’s not hungry, just wants some attention.”

He huffed as her hands displaced him from his spot in bed, his below-his-breath mutterings softened by the small smile tugging at his lips. “My daughter you say.”

“Just go, before she wakes up Matty.”

Edward laughed as he rolled out of bed, stumbling in the dark for a moment before he found his footing, footsteps light against the carpet as he snuck out of their bedroom and towards the nursery.

Keeping an ear out for the lessening of her daughter’s cries, for the soft tones of her husband soothing her back to sleep, for the inevitable waking of her son the second Morgan starts to dose off, Abby curled back up under the covers of their bed, already missing Edward’s warmth. It had been 3 months since they had brought the twins home from the hospital, and though they had been 3 of the most beautiful months of her life, she was also absolutely exhausted.

All the time.

Throughout their careers, her and Edward had gone through countless sleepless nights, often in a row. There were nights spent tailing subjects whose movements were more suspicious under the cover of darkness, nights spent on lookout casing infiltration targets or searching for suspicious activity. There were nights spent undercover, dolled up in everything from ballgowns to miniskirts, nights spent planning their next move, evaluating their last. There were nights spent in the comforts of each other, Edward holding her tight as she cried for her brother-in-law, her niece, her sister, nights spent screaming at one another, furious over his concealed past, hurt over her seemingly indifferent actions. And of course there were the countless nights when sleep was the furthest thing from their minds, too wrapped up in the heat and want and need of one another to pay any mind to the aching tiredness in their bones.

Through all of those sleepless nights however, none had left her quite so exhausted as the past few months had, and she knew he was in a similar state.

It turned out having two babies, yes at the same time Townsend, that’s what twins means you big baby, was infinitely harder than having one. Not that either of them had experienced raising one child, her husband not knowing about his eldest son for the first 18 years of his life and the closest Abby coming to children up until now being her niece, who she certainly saw a lot of and helped with as an infant but didn’t live with. It turned out, with twins, everything was twice as difficult. When one woke up screaming, the other tended to follow suit, and holding both babies securely at the same time was a challenge both parents were too anxious to attempt. They could each only feed one at a time, change them, bathe them one at a time, and as soon as both twins were settled from one problem, another reared its head in quick succession. Initially Edward had planned to have partly returned to work by now, and Abby was going rejoin desk duty in the new year, but both of their return dates had been pushed back as they realised that this whole parenting thing was a lot harder than they anticipated.

Their family had offered them plenty of help. Zach was already quite taken with his younger siblings, him and Cammie often making an appearance to offer a helping hand. Assistance mainly came in the form of cleaning the apartment in Cammie’s case, cooking in Zach’s, as although they both enjoyed their time spent cuddling the babies, neither of them were leaping to volunteer to change them. Rachel on the other hand was a godsend, dragging Joe over to their place every weekend to give one of the parent’s a day off in bed, to give advice when Edward swallowed his pride and asked for it, to hold Abby through her tears when she worried she was failing, that she was screwing everything up. Joe tried to be more distant with the twins, as he was with Cammie when she was young, babies making him uncharacteristically jumpy and nervous, uncomfortable in his own skin in a way Abby imagined he hadn’t been since he was a child himself. When Rachel brought him over, he tended to quietly tidy up their place, to restock their cupboards, to cook them meals they could easily reheat, until Abby grew frustrated with him and dumped one of her children in his arms, wanting, needing them to have an uncle who wasn’t scared of their existence. Macey had even been over a handful of times. Never staying long, she tended to pop in with a bag of new gifts to spoil the pair with and lingered just long enough to hold them both, to check in with how Abby was doing, to give her updates on what the outside world looked like before clearing off again.

So yes, they had plenty of help, and it was greatly appreciated, but they were still exhausted.

And yet, despite her bone-deep, soul-crushing, mind-numbing weariness, Abby couldn’t fall back asleep. Couldn’t escape the empty space in her bed left by her husband, the December chill biting at her hands and feet, the burning in her ears, her head, her heart from her daughter’s cries. Pushing back the couple tears burning at the back of her head, tears of frustration and exhaustion all at once, she climbed out of bed and into her slippers, wrapping one of Edward’s sweaters around her as she went.

In the nursery, he was stood by the window, Morgan cradled to his bare chest as he bounced her slowly back and forth, head bent to hers as he hummed the last Christmas song they heard on the radio to try soothe her back to sleep.

Abby’s teeth clasped around her bottom lip.

The first couple months after giving birth, she hadn’t wanted anything to with sex or anything close to it. She hadn’t felt less attractive since she was a child, long before she discovered boys and how to keep their attention. She hadn’t felt less attracted to other people since not long after that, when she started discovering boys and girls, and how the pretty ones could make her heart race. Even during the late stages of her pregnancy, when she began to look and feel like a beached whale, Edward had still found a way of looking at her and making her feel desirable. Then she had the twins and suddenly she was cringing away from him the one time his hand strayed below her waist, levelling a glare at him the one time she caught him staring at her legs.

Rachel had assured her that it was normal, that she was the same after Cammie. That her body had quite literally been torn in two, she was exhausted and somewhat tearful, she suddenly had very innocent ears in the next room, and more often than not she was victim to at least one bodily fluid soaking through her clothes or into her hair. Edward had never even mentioned it. He never let his hands drift beyond that first time, he pressed kisses solely onto her hair, her forehead, her cheek, called her beautiful and strong and perfect all in one glance.

And then a couple of months passed, and she started to feel like herself again, and she started noticing that her husband looked extremely good when he was holding babies. Especially when they were their babies. And he was shirtless.

Trying to remind herself that it was 4 in the morning and there were crying infants in the room and that this was not the time, she walked up behind them, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her face to his bare back. Taking a deep breath, the heat from his sauna of a body started to chase the cold from her bones, the smell of him soothed the anxiety drumming around her head, the feel of him pressed up against her, their daughter in his arms and their son sleeping peacefully behind them slowing down the pounding of her heart.

Propping herself up on her tiptoes, she peered over her husband’s shoulder at their still snivelling daughter, frowning as her face scrunched up in displeasure. Gently, she ran her pinky over Morgan’s tear stained cheek, smiling into Edwards neck when her tears paused, head turning into her mother’s hand.

“You should go back to bed love, get some sleep.” He turned in her arms, forehead leaning against hers, whisper getting caught in her hair. “I’ve got them I promise.”

She nodded. She knew. She knew he wouldn’t let anything happen to them, but all the same…

“Can’t. Baby hormones are making my brain stupid again.” Sighing through his soft smile, he pressed a long kiss to the top of her head and passed the crying infant over, rolling his eyes at her smug face when she immediately quietened down. “Besides, I’m her favourite.”

Only a couple days after bringing the twins home, Rachel had taken one look at Abby and started warning her and Edward about how much worrying was too much. Abby had rolled her eyes at the time. She had always been carefree, never a huge worrier, tending to go with the flow and make things up as she went, a stark contrast to her control freak husband and her backup-plans for her backup-plans sister. Of course, like usual, Rachel proved to know her better than she knew herself, as Abby spent the next few nights completely unable to sleep, consumed with fear that one of the twins would stop breathing, that someone was going to break in and take them from her, that if she fell asleep she’d wake up in an apocalypse where Edward and their children were ripped away from her, leaving her all alone again. She couldn’t handle that. It would kill her. All completely rational fears given their history, Abby felt, but apparently her husband and her sister and her stupid doctor felt differently.

Able to breath a little easier now that she was holding her daughter, Abby bent her head forwards to inhale the baby’s scent, pressing a featherlight kiss to her head, smiling as her little eyelids began to flutter closed.

“Goodnight Mo,” She whispered into her skin, eyes momentarily catching Edward’s in the reflection of the window, his soft eyes and loving smile snatching her breath away for a singular second. Then, just as predicted, she saw the telltale signs of movement coming from their son’s crib, a little fist waving in the air, feet kicking at his surroundings, a hitch in his tiny chest. “Matty’s awake.”

“Bloody hell.”

At only a few months old, the twins were already proving themselves to be unique from one another. Like her father, Morgan was a terrible sleeper, waking up several times a night. She also hated being alone, so she tended to cry each time she woke up and there wasn’t a grown up immediately attending to her. However she was easy to soothe back to sleep and content to entertain herself when she was awake, enjoyed letting her parents flit around the nursery or the kitchen as long as she good still see them. Matthew on the other hand was a heavy sleeper, waking only for food or if his sister’s cries disturbed him. Unfortunately, once he was awake he screamed anytime he wasn’t being held, a trait Rachel claimed he got from his mother. Worse, he was near impossible to put back to sleep. Abby and Edward had struggled with him for weeks until Matthew Senior’s parents had come round for a visit and recommended taking him for a drive to calm him down, a move that apparently worked on their son for years.

He nearly started to screech now, but quietened as soon as he spotted his father leaning down to swoop him out of the crib.

“Good morning bud, not planning on letting your poor parents sleep huh?” He rocked him in his arms, a delighted giggle squeaking out of the little boys lips, announcing to them both that he was already wide awake. Edward sighed, shook his head at his youngest child, looked at her and smiled sadly. “What do you want me to do?”

There were two options really. Edward could take the little boy out in the car, drive him around for half an hour or so until he dozed off, then bring him back home and hope that Morgan stayed asleep for long enough that the two of them could get some rest. Abby could even feed them both before the boys headed off, maybe get the twins to sleep until the sunrise. Or, one of them could get up with Matty, keep him entertained and quiet until he eventually grew sleepy again, by which time Morgan would probably wake up and demand their attention instead. Her husband would insist on him being the one to stay with them, Abby knew, would tell her to get some sleep. She needed to sleep.

Abby swallowed. Bit her lip. Tried to breath through the panic gripping her chest.

Edward needed to sleep as well, she knew. She should tell him to put Matty in the car just long enough to tire him out, then come back home and get some rest himself. But the idea of her son leaving her sights, of him and her husband out in the cold and the dark, of them being on the road when she didn’t know if it was safe, if it was icy, if there was someone out there waiting for them, gripped her heart in a vice and squeezed. She felt sick just thinking about it. If any one of them left her, if she lost them, she’d never recover.

Watching her carefully, her husband just nodded, her silence giving away her desires. He looked exhausted, hair fussed and eyes dark, but he smiled at her all the same, pressed a kiss to her head, her temple, her cheek. “Can you hold him while I put something warmer on?”

Nodding, she gently lowered Morgan into her crib, whispering a small love you into her head as she went. Then she took their son in her arms, pressed a wet kiss to his cheek, letting Edward go. Abby never thought she could do this, never thought she would love something this much. Didn’t think it was possible for her to love someone more than she loved her sister, her niece, her husband. And then the second line on the test appeared, and the doctor confirmed it, and she split her body in two bringing them into the world, and they ripped her heart out and held half of it each in their tiny fists when she did. Sometimes she lies at wake at night trying to calm her racing thoughts, thinking of Rachel and Cammie and those months when she was missing, when The Circle had her, when Catherine had her, and she realises that her sister is infinitely stronger than Abby had thought for the simply fact that she didn’t utterly break. Sometimes she thinks of Catherine. Of Catherine and Zach and Cynthia and Macey and wonders how anyone could be so cruel to their children, so indifferent to their pain. Sometimes she thinks of her own mother and wonders if she ever loved Abby this much, if she ever felt Abby deserved it.

Strong arms encircled her waist, a cold nose nuzzling into her neck. Her husband reached down with one hand to soothe the tiny frown adorning Morgan’s brow, to offer a finger for Matthew to grasp onto, the other tight around her hip.

Abby breathed deeply again.

She turned around, ready to thank him for being patient with her, when she took in his bedraggled appearance and had to fight a grin off her face.

Her husband was the world’s most formal man. He addressed most of their family and friends by their full legal names, and everyone else by their titles and surnames. He spoke the Queen’s English and texted with proper grammar, punctuation and all. He was always smartly dressed and well kept unless his legend demanded otherwise, the only other exception being when he went to bed. Even when Abby was in labour, all 46 hours of it from the first to the final contraction, even in the days immediately after the twin’s birth, he kept himself clean shaven with his hair combed. He adorned himself in belted slacks, plain black Oxfords, and a shirt, adding a sweater if he got cold. She’d never tell him, but she found it kind of adorable.

Now though, his exhaustion was starting to show.

He had slipped out of his pyjama pants and into grey sweatpants she didn’t even know he owned. A dark hoodie that lived in her closet was tugged over his bare chest. The hoodie wasn’t even hers. She had stolen it from Cammie months ago, who had stolen it from her mother before that, though based on the size of it Abby assumed it initially belonged to Joe. His hair was unkempt from a combination of sleep and her hands, his skin sunken and pale. Dark bags weighed down his eyes and a weary tired sept the mass from his muscles. Anyone would have thought he was unwell. But the cause of her grin was his feet, the left covered by a striped pink number printed with world’s best aunt in golden text, the other a bright red and green checkered pattern with Merry Christmas emblazoned in cursive letters. Similar enough to be confused with one another in the dark, the mismatched pair of socks was enough to send a now delirious Abby over the edge. Ducking her head, she tried to contain her laugh in her son’s skin, heart soaring when his little giggles harmonised with her own.

“Shhh baby, your sister’s sleeping.” Cheeks hurting from the smile that tore her face, she pushed back the tears of happiness biting at her eyes.

God she loved this man.

There was a time when she was sure Edward Townsend couldn’t have handled a knife and fork that lacked matching engravings, couldn’t have handled the tiniest bit of mess, couldn’t have handled her. Now he stood before her scruffy in his tiredness wearing mismatched socks, eyes locked on hers as he took their son from her arms.

She kissed him.

Long and gentle, very aware of the tiny body pressed between them, of the sleeping baby just behind her, she pressed her smiling lips to his and practically purred into his mouth. With Matty secure in his arms, she reached up to wrap one of her hands around his shoulders, the other tracing his unshaven jaw, cringing slightly at the way it rubbed against her hand, her mouth. Laughing into her, he pulled back, an apology for his state dancing on his lips. She shook her head, stepping back to admire him as he settled into the old rocking chair, a gift from Matt-the-elder’s parents, one eye on their daughter in her crib, the other on their son cradled in his arms.

“Go get some rest love, we’re all good in here.”

She kissed him again.

“Thank you.” For everything.

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Authors note:

Joe Solomon is scared of children pass it on.

3,500 more words of Tabby! Perhaps a tad OOC and slightly less lighthearted than planned but postpartum anything is both a bitch and extremely common. These two are potentially not the most connected with their emotions, spent years hunting down crime lords and terrorist organisations, then watched one of those terrorist organisations hunt down, kidnap, and torture Abby’s niece. I reckon adding unexpectedly new parents to twins into that equation is bound to cause some anxieties. Unfortunately one of the best ways to manage PPA is good sleep, which is surprisingly quite difficult to come by with newborn twins.

[gildengirl]

{Rachel getting a team together for a mission}

Rachel: What do you consider to be your best quality?

Matt: Well, I'm a real people person.

Joe: I don't answer stupid questions.

Townsend: I speak Swahili.

Abby: My eyes. Oh, and I guess my hair, too.

[incorrectgallaghergirlsquotes]

Do you think Townsend asked permission from Rachel and Cam before marrying Abby?

Not really? I don't really think Townsend is the type and I'm not a big fan of the asking for permission regardless of gender roles. People aren't other people's belongings, the only person you need to ask permission if you want to marry someone is the person you plan on marrying. I'm not saying I think it's bad to do or if you like it, I personally just don't really get it. Like Joe talking to Cammie makes sense because that's her mom and her dad is dead, but someone's sister and her niece? I don't see the point in the gesture.

[walterkov]

Devin Townsend - Order Of Magnitude, Empath Live Volume 1 - Behind the Scenes [x] requested by @flyinyoursoup

[theboysfromaustin]

"What's your type?"

"I DON'T FUCKING KNOW."

[cammie-morgan-goode]

How do you think Townsend and Abby confessed their feelings to eo?

You know this is an excellent question. I definitely think that the two of them are pretty spontaneous, meaning they never plan anything.

I think it happened on a mission. I think the two of them had been on this mission for a long while. The tension and stress from the job was getting to the two of them and they were so tired.

I think Abby was having a rough time sleeping, probably having nightmares. I think it happened shortly after Matt went on his mission. I think it happened on accident.

But maybe it happened undercover. Maybe they had to pretend to be a couple and realized that there was just something there... something that was missing... something that they weren't sure the other one was feeling.

I think it just slipped. I think Townsend probably told Abby that she wasn't all that bad or annoying. And I think Abby told Townsend that he didn't have to be so serious all the time, that she much rather him be himself, without the cover.

I think it just clicked between the two of them, outside on a balcony. Maybe it happened in Buenos Aires and that's why it's such a hard topic between them. Maybe Townsend confessed and Abby shut him down. Maybe Abby confessed and Townsend didn't reciprocate her feelings yet.

Maybe it was just right person wrong time. But there has definitely been something between them over the years because there's no way that Abby would be that hurt about the Catherine reveal unless there were feelings involved prior to that.

The two of them are both just so stubborn.

[cdd-swag-bracket]

round 1 poll 6

Jack Townsend VS. Francis York/Zach Morgan

(click the names for propaganda)

[superblycaffeinated]

stories with Matthew Morgan, Rachel Cameron/Morgan/Solomon, Abigail Cameron (And Edward Townsend), Joe Solomon, and Catherine Goode

"You Get Me Too" - the one where Abby is pregnant

"Stay, If You Want" - the one at Matthew Morgan's funeral

"That's Depressing" - the one where Abby finds out Townsend's never had Mac & Cheese

"It's Matt" - the one where Cammie finally loses it on Joe Solomon

"There's Something About Luke Collins" - the one where Joe Solomon sees Matthew Morgan in everyone around him

"Is That My Shirt?" - the one where Matthew Morgan and Rachel Cameron share a turning point moment

"Cooking Is An Artform" - the one where Rachel and Joe celebrate their wedding anniversary

"Rachel's Secret" - the one where Matthew Morgan almost didn't make it

"It Was Maroon" - the one where Abby, Cammie, and Rachel deal with missing Matthew Morgan in different ways | #5 - spotify wrapped request

Everything Begins - the one where Joe Solomon meets Bex Baxter

Various Headcanons and Misc.:

Thoughts About Rachel & Zammie

[hannahwatcheshorror]

CONTRACTED: PHASE II (2015)

A sequel that answers as many questions as the first. No questions. And it leaves with a cliffhanger like we want to sit through another one of these movies. One star for acting, half for the actions in the movie. 

⭐.5

Sam is toast, Riley is being tested for every STD. He lasts WAY long. A bunch of cryptic shit is happening, what the fuck? He removes a bunch of maggots, which is useless. Hospital scene, the dude bro who started all this is here, bomb on chest, everyone is sick and now Riley is dead. Come back for a third installment, huh? (shit)

----------------------HANNAH WATCHES HORROR---------------------

[g-girlshavingfun]

Gallagher Girls Masterlist:

Here is everything I've written, everything I'm currently working on, and the ideas I've got planned for the future if I ever get around to them.

If there's ever anything you want me to try writing, just ask and I'll see what I can put together!

WIPs:

A Sister’s Vigil - 5 times Rachel visited her sister in hospital and 1 time she didn’t. 

Completed:

Abby/Townsend:

Warm tequila - Set about 5 years after the events of UWS, Abby and Townsend explore the Christmas markets in London. (2,121)

Mismatched socks - 6 and a half years after UWS, Abby and Townsend face an early winter morning with the twins (3,491)

Lips against a hipbone - The winter before the events of LYKY, Abby and Townsend are a couple months into an op in Buenos Aires when years of tension finally comes to a head. (3,690)

Silent films - Set in between OSOT and UWS, Townsend and Abby are doing surveillance on the Winters in Rome when they start talking about the past. (3,243)

Doctor’s orders - A year before the events of LYKL, Abby and Townsend’s assignment in Buenos Aires ends in disaster, and they wind up having an argument in her hospital room. (2,668)

Ursa Major - Half a decade before the events of LYKY, Abby and Townsend are completing a mission in Dubai over Christmas with Abe Baxter in tow. (4,527)

Last call - While in Rome between OSOT and UWS, Abby and Townsend celebrate The New Year together in a bar. (2,712)

Catherine/Townsend:

A hotel bar - Shortly before the events of OGSY, Catherine tracks Townsend down for a long overdue catch up. (2,949)

A necklace knotted around a fist - Over 15 years before the events of LYKY, Townsend discovers that Catherine isn’t all she claims to be and tries to confront her about it. (2,710)

Cammie/Zach:

An attic - Zach and Cammie are spending the Christmas after the events of UWS at her Grandparent’s ranch in Nebraska with the rest of her family, and they manage to find a moment of peace away from the adults together. (3,836)

Joe/Rachel:

Bitter coffee - About a month after the events of DJGC, Rachel turns up at Joe’s cabin for a catch up before she plans to fly to London. (2,569)

A brown leather belt - Towards the end of OSOT, Rachel tries to get Joe alone for a chat. (2,457)

A wax-sealed envelope - Only a few weeks before the events of LYKY, Rachel makes one final attempt at convincing Joe to step out of the field and into a teaching role at Gallagher. (2,884)

Matt/Rachel:

Knees pressed into soft carpet - Over a decade and a half before the events of LYKY, Rachel and Matthew get distracted while on an assignment. (1,388)

Saltwater - In her first winter as headmistress of The Gallagher Academy, Rachel takes a moment to remember warmer and happier times. (1,882)

Abby & Cammie:

Rusty nails - After rediscovering her father’s grave in OSOT, Cammie finds her aunt outside and catches her in a rare vulnerable conversation. (3,315) 

Abby & Joe:

White silk - Set during Rachel and Matt’s wedding, a decade and a half before the events of LYKY, Abby and Joe meet properly for the first time. (3,337)

Weathered boxing gloves - Not long after Joe wakes up in OSOT, he goes for a walk around the school grounds at night and comes across Abby in the P&E barn. (3,949)

Abby & Macey:

Bodyguards - Set during DJGC but before the adults learn that Cammie is the target of The Circle, Abby keeps Macey from leaving the Academy one October morning. (3,700)

Abby & Matt:

Overprotective - Nearly two decades before the events of LYKY, Rachel and Matthew discover an intruder in their home when they get back from work. (2,557)

Abby & Rachel:

Red wine - 10 years after their father died, Rachel has exciting news for Abby. (3,135)

A safehouse - While on an assignment in Bahrain, 8 years before the events of LYKY, Rachel and Abby disagree on the group’s next move after one of their cover’s is blown. (3,035)

Catherine & Joe:

Old friends - A decade before the events of LYKY, Catherine needs help with her son and knows just who to go to. (2,364)

Catherine & Zach:

Tall evergreen - After one term at Blackthorn, Zach spends the Christmas 3 years before LYKY trying to get through his mother. (2,130)

Cammie & Matt:

A sous chef - Almost a decade before LYKY, Rachel is feeling under the weather, so Matt and Cammie try to make her feel better (2,399)

Cammie & Rachel:

A gold tooth - 3 years before the start of LYKY, Rachel and Cammie find a quiet escape during Matt’s funeral to have an important chat. (2,600)

Joe & Matt:

Sawdust - Two decades before the events of LYKY, Matt brings Joe to Nebraska on a pre-Christmas get away (2,793)

Joe & Townsend:

Figs - While spending the Christmas after UWS at the Morgan ranch in Nebraska, Joe and Townsend try to clear the air between them. (2,897)

Rachel & Townsend:

Spiral stairs - Set between Cammie and the girls’ graduation and Rachel and Joe’s wedding, Townsend is met by Rachel when he arrives to take Abby out for dinner on her birthday. (4,870)

Townsend & Zach:

A broken teapot - A year and a half after the events of UWS, Zach joins Townsend (and Abby) for Christmas at his parents house back in England. (3,241)

A breakup - 6 years after the events of UWS, Zach goes running to Townsend after a fight with Cammie. (4,196)

Upcoming:

Codenames - Chameleon. Bookworm. Duchess. Peacock. To anyone with less than level 4 clearance level, those four words mean nothing more than what they mean. But to anyone who knows what truly goes on behind the walls of The Gallagher Academy for Exceptional Young Women, those four words tell the story of the teenagers who banded together to help take down a terrorist organisation before they even graduated high school. These are the stories of how they became known as such.

Red wine - 3 times a Cameron woman let slip that that they were expecting.

It hurts to miss you, but it’s worse to know - Matthew Morgan had two funerals. Joseph Solomon attended them both.

A safe house - Abby is dedicating all of her time and strength to casing the entire continent of Europe for her brother-in-law. Rachel is dedicating all of her heart and soul to bringing what was left of her fractured family back together to grieve as one. These two states cannot peacefully coexist for long. Of course it all comes to a head in Rome.

Overprotective - 4 times a Cameron woman revealed their boy troubles to the someone who loved them dearly. 

Walking away with your kiss on my cheek and a bruise underneath - Abby and Townsend are not perfect. It isn’t love at first sight or a slowly developing affection that binds them to one another. Their relationship is carved from spitting venom and blazing fire, from tearing through one another’s cracks and crevices with vicious words and scathing accusations, from holding one another close in the fallout and vowing never again. Somehow, what holds them together is fighting tooth and nail against one another and basking in the familiar wreckage that this leaves. They wouldn’t have it any other way. Or, the fights that made Abby and Townsend’s relationship what it is.

[gildengirl]

“Run. It's what people have been telling me to do all year, and now I think it's time I really listen. ... Please don't look for me. Please don't worry. And most of all, please don't think of this as me running away, but of me running toward. Toward answers. Toward hope. Toward wherever I have to go to finish my father's mission and stop this thing, once and for all. ... I'll be back. And when I am, I promise I'll have answers.”

- Ally Carter, Only the Good Spy Young

[wellesleybooks]

Another great list of books shortlisted for an award. First presented in 2016, the Mark Twain American Voice in Literature Award honors a work of fiction from the previous calendar year that speaks with an “American Voice” about American experiences. Congratulations to all the authors and their publishers.

[talknerdytome18]

How I Imagined The Naturals Characters When Reading ✨

Disclaimer: This is just how I imagined the characters when reading. Please don't come at me saying stuff like, "erm, aren't Dean and Michael American?" or "Michael doesn't have blue eyes!!!" BECAUSE I DON'T CARE.

Okay, that sounded mean, but please don't argue with me over who my brain imagined when reading. I can't help it <333 - Em

Anyways, enjoy!!!!

Cassie Hobbes: Beatrice Kitsos

Dean Redding: Kit Connor

Michael Townsend: Jude Morgan-Collie

Lia Zhang: Momona Tamada

Sloane Tavish: Alyvia Alyn Lind

Celine Delacroix: Marsai Martin

Tanner Briggs: Matthew Gray Gubler

Veronica Sterling: Lola Glaudini

Lacey Locke: Kennedy Walsh

Lorelai Hobbes: Abigail Cowen

Judd Hawkins: Joe Mantegna

I don't have a proper fancast unfortunately for Director Sterling cause I can't really remember what he looked in my head lol.

Please be nice in the comments/reblogs!

[ssahoodrathotchner]

I’m Lost Without You

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

Summary: when a case goes wrong, Aaron’s the only one who can get you out of your head

Word Count: 1.5k words

Warnings: swearing, angst, blood, canon-typical violence, hurt/comfort, Aaron being sweet

A/N: aaaaaand i’m back again with some angst. This idea literally wouldn’t leave me alone so here we are. Somewhat inspired by lady macbeth’s “out damned spot” soliloquy but like only in the hand washing and not the actual stabbing of a guy bit

Masterlist

---

There’s blood under your fingernails and it won’t go away.

The fluorescent lighting of the police station bathroom illuminates the red under your nails, taunting you with the results of your failure.

You scrub harder, bordering on frantic as pink water swirls its way down the drain.

Your fault.

---

It was too easy.

Women in their twenties going missing from a college campus after attending events put on by the history faculty.

Narrowing down the lists of professors, students, and staff led to three possible unsubs, one of which had a previous record for assault and battery six years prior.

It was too easy.

Everything was seamless. Reid’s geographic profile, Garcia’s information on the unsub’s records, Emily and JJ’s deductions based on victim type all led you to believe that you had the right person and prevented her from finding the next victim.

The team cornered the unsub in her office during a meeting with her TA, who was part of the whole takedown operation—your idea.

But.

Your fault your fault your fault.

As soon as Morgan breached the doorway the professor, Dr. Jennifer Coleman, pulled a handgun from her desk and shot her TA. Point blank. In the chest.

The rest of the takedown is a blur.

Immediately, you pushed past Morgan and began assessing Celia – the TA, her name is Celia—while the rest of the team swarms in around you to subdue Dr. Coleman.

Erratic heartbeat, stuttering breaths, wide eyes. Wide green eyes.

Your hands go to her chest, pressing down on the wound, staunching the blood as much as you can with your bare hands.

Not enough not enough not enough.

It’s not enough.

Celia Townsend is declared dead on the arrival of the EMTs, weeks from graduating with her masters in anthropology.

She was twenty-seven.

Your fault your fault your fault.

You watch as the body bag is zipped up.  

There’s blood under your fingernails.

---

The door creaks open behind you, and your eyes flash up to the mirror to see who’s joined you in your futile attempt to rid your hands of the blood.

“Hey.”

It’s Emily.

You meet her eyes in the mirror before turning your attention back to your hands.

“Hey,” you say softly.

“You’ve been in here a while,” she starts, cautious. “Are you okay?”

“I’m—” your voice catches.

You scrub harder.

Your fault your fault your fault.

“Hey,” she says again, moving to catch your elbow. “Hey, careful, careful. Your hands…” She trails off as you take a moment to look over at her.

“There’s…” you pause. “The blood. Under my nails. I can’t get it to go away.”

Gently, Emily takes one of your hands in hers and holds it up and you can see it. See the stains under your nails, the signs of your futile attempt to save the life of Celia. The girl you sent to her death.

You hold your breath as Emily tilts your hand under the light, the blood a dull red where you haven’t scrubbed hard enough.

“I have just the thing,” she states, squeezing your hand before ducking back out the door.

You turn back to the sink and immerse your hands once again as the door swings shut.

The blood is still fucking there.

---

It’s Aaron who comes through the door after an indeterminate amount of time has passed.

You glance at him in the mirror before turning your attention back to your hands.

Your fault your fault your fault.

He moves until he’s next to you, silent. Watching.

“Sweetheart—” he begins softly. “Can you take a step back for me?”

You exhale sharply. “Not until it’s gone.”

“Until what’s gone?”

“The blood, Aaron. Celia’s blood. It won’t come out from under my nails,” your voice shakes as you pause and watch the water swirl down the drain under your hands.

“Sweetheart,” he tries again. “There’s no more blood.”

What?

“No, it’s—right there, it’s there, Aaron, see?” you frantically point at your hands, the red under your nails, the red that’s haunted you since watching the ambulance pull away. “It’s right there!”

Why can’t he see it?

Aaron’s hands engulf yours and he pulls them to his chest, turning your body into his as he steps closer until your head is tucked under his chin.

The water shuts off, but you can still feel it running over your hands, through your fingers. Warm. Incredibly warm and real and red—

“Take a breath, Sweetheart. The blood is gone, it’s gone,” he says, holding both your hands in one of his you he can tilt your chin up until your eyes meet.

“But—”

“Shhhh it’s gone. It’s all gone, Sweetheart.”

Aaron studies your face for a moment before something in his own expression fractures and he wraps both arms around you, tucking his face against the top of your head as the gently rocks the both of you.

You let your eyes close and you lean into his body, grasping weakly at his jacket.

He presses a kiss to the top of your head and the two of you don’t let go of each other.

Then the tears start.

Between one moment and the next your breath catches and tears start to seep from under your closed eyes. Face buried in Aaron’s chest, you give in and let yourself cry.

You cry for Celia, for the life she could have lived. For your own guilt and the weight that’s been steadily crushing your lungs since your hands made contact with Celia’s blood.

You cry for yourself. For the knowledge that you can’t save everyone, no matter how hard you try or how good your plan is.

You can’t.

Not your fault.

You become vaguely aware that Aaron’s muttering reassurances into your hair, and you listen closer to hear a litany of “You tried, Sweetheart, it’s okay. You got the blood, you got it. Take a breath, darling, it’s okay. I love you, and it’s okay.”

It’s easy to lean further into his embrace, to insistently push your head under his chin and exhale slowly as you let the tears finish tracking down your cheeks.

“Please don’t leave me,” you whisper, “I know you won’t, not now, but. I just. I don’t want to be alone,” you take a shaky breath. “Please don’t leave me.”

“Never,” you feel him breathe against the top of your head. Aaron pulls back to press a long kiss to your forehead. “Never, Sweetheart.”

“Thank you, Love,” gratitude evident in the way your body loses its tension.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Aaron asks hesitantly, hands tightening around your body.

“Not now,” you respond immediately. “I can’t—it’s just—not now. Later, I think. Later.”

“That’s fine, Sweetheart. Later is fine. Or never, but I’m always here if you want to talk.”

He pulls you closer for a moment before pulling back to tip your head up, placing a kiss on your cheek before turning your face to repeat the action on the other side.

You open your eyes, prying apart eyelids that feel too heavy, and look directly into the warm gaze that awaits yours.

“…I want to go home,” you confess. “I can’t be here any longer, Aaron.”

“So we go home, Sweetheart. I’ll tell the team to rally and we’ll have the jet ready in two hours. They should be wrapping up the interrogation shortly,” he responds with a soft smile.

The relief that spreads through your body is a welcome reprieve from the frantic terror that had taken over your mind for however long it’s been.

A thought strikes you “My hands—the blood,” you start.

“—Isn’t there anymore, Sweetheart. Take a look,” Aaron consoles you, pulling both of your hands into your field of vision. “The blood is gone.”

Slowly, you let your vision drift to your hands, expecting to see the reddish stain that you haven’t been able to escape and yet—

It’s gone.

The red is gone.

You pull away from Aaron completely, holding your hands up to the light, twisting them back and forth to catch every possible angle and it’s gone. The blood under your nails is finally gone.

Slumping forward, you close your eyes as your face falls into the crook of Aaron’s neck, shuddering through your next few breaths.

“It’s gone,” you mumble.

“It is, Sweetheart,” he answers. “Let’s go home.”

“Home,” you agree. “Let’s go home, Love.”

Pressing another kiss to your forehead, Aaron takes a moment to swipe a damp paper towel across your face and take away the dried tear tracks, tenderly turning your head back and forth to make sure he got all the remnants of your breakdown.

You lean forward, slowly, letting Aaron meet you halfway in a kiss that soothes your nerves in its familiarity. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull back enough to let your lips rest lightly on Aaron’s, enough to brush his as you smile for the first time in what seems like an eternity.

“Thank you, Love,” you say softly. “I love you.”

“I love you more, Sweetheart,” he responds, just as gentle.

And you know that Aaron, always Aaron, will be there on the good days and the bad no matter what.

--- Taglist: @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @averyhotchner @prentisswrites @mylovelysnowflake @hqtchner @fakin-it-til-i-make-it @emlynblack @clarawatson @andromedasstarship @madamsnape921 @mac99martin @midsummernightdream @itsmytimetoodream @homoose @whosscruffylooking @agentaaronhotass @thenewnormalforensicator  @myloveofcmreid @ssahotchie @romanogersendgame

[daughterofheartshaven]

@oswinoswald15 and @presidentdisastraofgallifrey asked to see my companions masterlist! So here it is!

First Doctor Major companions:

Susan Forman

Ian Chesterton

Barbra Wright

Viki Pallister

Steven Taylor

Sara Kington

Dodo Chaplet

Ben Jackson

Polly Wright

First Doctor minor companions:

Katerina

Oliver Harper

Second Doctor major companions:

Ben Jackson

Polly Wright

Jamie McCrimmon

Victoria Waterfield

Zoe Herriot

Second Doctor minor companions

Tarlos

Third Doctor major companions

Liz Shaw

Jo Grant

Sarah Jane Smith

Third Doctor minor companions

Joshua Douglas

Jeremy Fitzoliver

Fourth Doctor major companions

Sarah Jane Smith

Harry Sullivan

Naomi Cross

Leela

Margret Hopwood

K9 Mark 1

Ann Kelso

K9 Mark 2

Fenella Wibbsey

Mike Yates

Sharon Davies

Romana

Adric

Fourth Doctor minor companions:

Oliver Day

Tiger Maratha

Fifth Doctor major companions

Adric

Tegan Jovanka

Nyssa

Marc

Vislor Turlough

Kamelion

Peri Brown

Erimem

Fifth Doctor minor companions

Gus Goodman

Robert McIntosh

Thomas Brewster

Hannah Bartholemew

Brooke

Jane Hampton

Will Chandler

Amy (Abby)

Sixth Doctor major companions

Peri Brown

Frobisher

Eveyln Smythe

Charley Pollard

Mila

Flip Jackson

Constance Clark

Mel Bush

Hebe Harrison

Sixth Doctor minor companions:

Grant Markham

Mathew Sharpe

Thomas Brewster

Emily Chaudhry

Will Hoffman

Henry Gordon Jago

George Litefoot

Jamie McCrimmon

Jason

Krystal

Zog

Mari Yoshida

Patrica McBride

Seventh Doctor major companions:

Mel Bush

Ace McShane

Hex Schofield

Bernice Summerfeild

Chris Cwej

Roz Forrester

Naomi Cross

Harry Sullivan

Seventh Doctor minor companions

Bev Tarrant

Ly-Chee

Raine Creevy

Sally Morgan

Lysandra Aristedes

The Tramp

Elizabeth Klein

Mags

Catherine Broome

Will Arrowsmith

Eighth Doctor major companions:

Sam Jones

Fitz Kriener

Compassion

Debbie Castle

Miranda Dawkins

Anji Kapoor

Trix MacMillan

Charley Pollard

Audacity Montague

C'rizz

Izzy Sinclair

Destrii

Lucie Miller

Tamsin Drew

Molly O'Sullivan

Liv Chenka

Helen Sinclair

Tania Bell

Andy Davidson

Josie Day

Bliss

Alex Campbell

Cass Fermazzi

Eighth Doctor minor companions

Bazima

Stacy Townsend

Ssard

Lorenzo Smitt

Delilah

Frank

Claudia

Jemima-Katy

Nina

Gemma Griffin

Samson Griffin

Mary Shelly

Guy

Fey Truscott-Sade

Kroton

Annie/Bethanie/Chloe/Daphne

The Eleven

Ria

War Doctor major companions

Fey Truscott-Sade

Case

The “War Child” Master

The Squire

Ninth Doctor major companions

Rose Tyler

Jack Harkness

Tara Manisha

Ninth Doctor minor companions

Nova

Callan & Doyle

Adam Mitchel

Tenth Doctor major companions

Rose Tyler

Martha Jones

Donna Noble

Majenta Pryce

Heather McCrimmon

Wolfie Ryter

Gabby Gonzales

Cindy Wu

Anubis

Emily Winter

Tenth Doctor minor companions:

Micky Smith

Gisella

K9 Mark 2

Cleo Hunsicker

Matthew Finegan

Anya Kingdom

Mark Seven

Eleventh Doctor major companions

Amy Pond

Rory Williams

Decky Flamboon

Alice Obifune

John Jones

ARC

The Sapiling

Valarie Lockwood

Clara Oswald

Handles

Eleventh Doctor minor companions

Kazran Sardick

Kevin

The Squire

Abslom Daak

Twelfth Doctor major companions

Clara Oswald

The Collins Family

Alex Yow

Brandon Yow

Nardole

Bill Potts

Twelfth Doctor minor companions

Hattie Munroe

Keira Sanstrom

Thirteenth Doctor major companions:

Graham O’Brian

Ryan Sinclair

Yaz Khan

Dan Lewis

Fourteenth Doctor minor companions

Donna Noble

Fifteenth Doctor major companions

Ruby Sunday

Anita Benn

[cammie-morgan-goode]

Why did townsend just let Joe go?

Hi friend!

I'm assuming you're talking about the London bridge scene in OGSY, right?

Either way I personally think that Townsend just had a flight or freeze moment. I think he hesitated. I think he's just so sure that Joe is the bad guy but I think he hesitated because of the time and place and the amount of people that were present. I think he just always hesitates when it comes to Joe Solomon.