#angst soon guys

[cotyncosmos]

A Bright Day.

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The sun was a bit hazy, clouds forming around it and covering the rays of light that threatened to spill onto the earth.

He laid there, silently. The things around him not so much.

The birds chirped a morning song, the grass ruffled with the wind, and the leaves had fallen onto the hard ground. The winged man sat up, fluffing out his pure white wings Heaven gave him to bear.

Being an angel sent down from above, he looked like an ordinary human. Probably why he was chosen in the first place.

Angels were taught to be rid of any sort of demons, like any fairytale. But the demons they had to turn to dust were Watchers. Powerful, monstrous admins who'd gone rogue.

His gown was a bit torn, battles he had faced left it a bit ugly, but nevertheless he'd mind it. The man has a job to do. Find the great canary curse caused by the Watchers and delete it from existence. Simple, right?

.

.

.

Would you think it would be simple?

The blonde stood up, and stretched a bit. Taking a breath, he flapped his wings to get them ready to lift him off the ground. He exhaled, and jumped up.

He soon saw suitable ground to land on, though he wouldn't land yet. Checking a holomap, he saw that the cursed was near. He landed a bit far away, so as to not be spotted.

He found his walk to the area peaceful, not that he was here for that.

“Ah—, Jimmy! You're here, we were just about to start.”

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a/n : part two of the canary story!1!1!! maybe I should make angst or something >:3 anyway, have this for now!!

[andersonfilms]

≛ LONELY IS THE MUSE!

❝ ABBY!CENTRIC ONE SHOT ❞

feat. bodyguard!abby x famous actor!reader

warnings. eighteen+, suggestive nsfw content: reader fell first nd and abby fell harder, some angst, fluff, slightly coded fem reader, personal trainer!abby, just two idiots pining. i saw the discourse for some romance and i wanted to do my part. enjoy friends.

LONELY IS THE MUSE, entangled in an endless web of a high profile life, everyone waiting on you hand and foot, hollywood’s star in their prime — everyone needing a piece for themselves. yet the mysterious blonde who has not a clue to who you are catches the eye of the lonely muse.

wc. 8k

“You know you don’t have to stand this close to me.” Abby counters, but her words didn’t make you move an inch. Not that she really thought they would. Secretly, she enjoys your gentle touch. She likes how comfortable you feel around her. The downpour in New York has your arm entangled with her own, your hand gripping her bicep as she holds the umbrella.

“Maybe, but I don’t want to ruin my hair.” You replied gently, as you rested your head against her relaxed bicep.

“God, forbid your hair be in ruin, sweet girl.” Abby’s wet lips look inviting, especially when she’s smirking at you. Delectable, enticing, desired seeping underneath your soul as you try your best to keep them at bay. 

“Now that would be positively tragic, wouldn’t it? Just a paparazzi’s wet dream. Need my hair in ruins for them to get a handsome payday.” Abby shakes her head, the budding smile threatening to reveal itself. You can see how it grows, despite the effort she makes to disguise it. 

“I think you do enjoy my company. Paid or not, I bring some light into your life.” You play with the ends of her hair. The blonde feels a tingle pricking at her skin. She ignores it. 

“I can see that smile.” 

Better than anyone, Abby knows the gleam in your eyes is too dangerous to entertain, so she looks forward. It’s what she's paid to do, to keep you safe. Not to entertain some weird crush that will soon pass when you move on to the next actress, artist, or producer. She doesn’t need a reminder of how different your world is, she’s already abundantly clear on where the both of you stand. Worlds apart from each other, even if you’re leaning against her, the greedy hands of the public grab onto you first, mercilessly sucking the life out of anyone who enters your life. 

All it does is isolate you, making your life incredibly lonely. Trapped on the throne you built with your raw talent, but the industry is a double edged sword, as much as it appears to lift you up, it impales any sense of normalcy at a private, peaceful life. You take pride in these little moments you have with her. It’s the only time you get to have a taste of normalcy, even if you did have a bodyguard, which wasn’t entirely normal. Yet, Abby is a gentle reminder of a life she wishes to have. Someone who is kind, and loving; a soul that exists for no selfish gain, greed, or selfishness. 

Sometimes, you take advantage of it. 

Abby knows you crave physical affection. Ever since your messy break up, you’ve been finding any little excuse to justify it. Abby didn’t really mind at all. Even if she tried to deny it in her head, she’d miss it if you stopped. The incessant need you have to be close to her at all times, your essence bleeding on to her, suffocating her with everything she wants, but knows she can’t ever let herself dip into the deepest edges of you. 

Especially, not when you are still attempting to decode the wreckage of your last relationship. 

Abby hates seeing you like this, but she knew there was little she could do to help. All she could do is let you ride the wave of heartbreak, take in the silent tears hitting full cheeks, and hope it would all end soon for you. For now, she would allow immediate proximity.

You’re hurting. You need it.  

The first few weeks, even a couple months after, she expects it. Now it’s month four, and you were still touching her all the time. Lame excuses falling from your lips daily and Abby was sure you didn’t even believe them. She thought about bringing it up to you, establishing healthy boundaries before she crosses a line.

Yet, it feels…nice.

It felt good to be needed. The reason she had taken this job in the first place. It wasn’t what she had imagined for herself – a bodyguard of a famous musician. She jokes about it now, but it's a twisted fate for the two of you. Your eyes shine bright whenever someone asks, and you always take the lead.

Abby has always been more reserved, and your personality is as bright as the sun. She liked Abby the second she laid eyes on her. Not because she was beautiful or the most gorgeous human she’d ever seen.

Which she is.

No.

Her stupid pounding heart, the one she felt beating violently out of her chest, loves you, has no idea who she is.  She had thought possibly the blonde stranger was putting on a front, some did. They liked to conceal their intentions behind greedy eyes and malicious intent.

But Abby turned out to be different.

When a blossoming friendship turned into a job opportunity, it took Abby through a loop. It was the very last thing she was expecting from you. You’d kept her in the dark and when you announced exactly who you were, Abby really didn’t know. Never was she really a fan of social media, didn’t really partake in it unless someone was showing her the latest trend going around. She’s a little old fashioned but she likes it. It worked in her favor when it came to you. Unknowingly, for the first time since your fame struck as quick as lightning, you had the pleasure to befriend someone who had no idea who you were. 

As fresh as breathing your first breath of air, you took pride in the circumstance. Someone enjoying your company for who they are and not just for your social standing, fame, or most importantly the money. Before either of you could really even fully come to it, Abby has become such an influential person in your life, and then you were attempting to entice her with a job opportunity, and she accepted. 

You thought it would take longer and knew from the moment you had asked. But her life was uprooted by you, and she felt guilty about how much it fills her up with glee. 

In the last year, Abby became the only person worthy of your trust, the only one who would keep your confessions confined, not letting the secrets drip like cheap wine down the drain. Rather more as if she was out in the vineyard, carefully hand picking the grapes for the wine as she crafts it herself. Giving it the love, care, and attention it needs to flourish into fine beverage. From one sip alone, knowing she would crave for the taste. 

Getting to know you in ways some would dream of. Often, the mass of the public did, but you’re more selective who you let in your life now. Swiftly, you noticed how easily Abby listened. 

Listening and seeing you for who you are, not some strewed version the media made you out to be.  

She understood why you felt the need to and maybe why you felt comfortable with her. You spent time with her more than anyone. After two years together, she had learned every little detail about you. Where you liked to get your morning coffee, your favorite brunch spot, which bar you like to frequent when you had a night to give, which gym was your favorite, and to not speak with you until you’ve had said coffee. 

It’s these little things Abby remembers, constantly getting her in trouble.

When paparazzi are around, you always accept her hand as she guides you through the swarming crowd. Abby knows you despise it. How inhumane it makes you feel. You feel like an attraction, an object the masses had come to see rather than being viewed as an actual person. In these moments, you cling onto Abby the most. While she’s intimidating to all, there leaves a small exception for you, never has she once been anything to you more than just a sweet, gentle giant she wants close to her at all times. 

Her stature is standing a little over six feet tall. Her arms always looked too good against the tight fabric of her shirt. The one you grip onto as she is navigating through a crowd with you in tow, she’s always focused. The remainder of your team was behind you, while she was always in front of you.

At all times, protecting you.

But it was moments like today, you were grateful for. You blended with the hectic life of the city. You were just two people waiting at a crosswalk, waiting to get to your next destination.

Abby tries not to pay too much attention to how you’re squeezing her bicep, with a strong grip further indication you weren’t letting go anytime soon.

She supposes it’s better than feeling your hand in hers. There were times when Abby deemed it necessary. She would grab it whenever she needed to get you through from point a to point b, quickly. It made you follow her pace instead of lingering behind. She didn’t even know how she was supposed to feel with your head resting against her arm, your body so close to hers.

How was she supposed to act normally?

The rumors were already getting bad. You denied them when asked, and you did gracefully each time.

All Abby could think about if this moment was captured, it would be perceived as intimate. It felt like it was, but she didn’t want the entire world to see. Not when she felt the two of you walking this very nimble line of friends, something professional, and something more. She didn’t need thousands of eyes giving their two senses in a situation she didn’t even fully understand yet. All it took was one person to snap a photo if she gets too close to you. If her touch stayed on you for too long, or if she let the love reach her eyes. The ladder was the most difficult to control. It’s a part of her just as much as the air in her lungs.

This life is new to her. At times, Abby wondered if she’s biting off more than she could chew.

The only reason she’d left was for you. She had a small, quiet life. Abby’s life was very average, a cloud of normalcy hovered above her before the two of you met. A personal trainer full time and she resided in a cabin about half an hour from where she worked. She chopped wood to relieve stress, Her girlfriend liked it at the time, and she did too. She had her two dogs, and a darling kitten. 

She enjoyed the privacy. The isolated countryside her sweet family could reside in. Abby had built this life she was proud of, and it made her happy. For a time, it worked. She was genuinely content with where she was. There wasn’t a need to stress or control where her life was going. It felt like a huge relief. She tended to live inside her own head, not be present in what she has right in front her.

It had been months since she felt like that. It’d felt good and she was proud of herself for not succumbing from within and really coming to terms with what she had built around her. This was the most difficult route for her to take. To allow herself to be open, even if there was a chance of her falling.

Abby really should have felt remorseful for leaving it all behind.

Nora was sweet. The most caring partner she ever had, but there wasn’t much she could compare it to. Besides her, there had only been two, and she didn’t even count Owen. A long misstep until she landed where she needed to be. He did care for her, and he seemed to be more kind-hearted than most men, but the bar was set so low, he should’ve exceeded expectations.

And he did, in some areas.

Others, he fell more than flat but there was little to nothing he could do about it. Abby likes girls and he wasn’t one. Her sexuality shattered their relationship into a million pieces – leaving neither of them any option but to move on.

Nora felt real. This genuine connection she’d never experienced before. Abby knew it one year into their relationship. The pair had built this life together, one where she didn’t feel trapped in, and one Abby could be proud of. She felt acknowledged and loved Nora. There wasn’t a sliver of a doubt in her mind this where she needed to be.

She tells Nora when she needs space, and she isn’t ashamed of it. If she didn’t want to go out, Nora wouldn’t guilt trip her into it. Abby didn’t feel pressured to intertwine her identity with Nora just because they were together. Nora hardly ever gave Abby a reason to be upset. She showed up like partners were supposed to, even when Abby didn’t.

But it was a heavy weight to carry for Nora. Being her first serious queer relationship, Abby was left stunted in areas where Nora had to lend a helping hand. She never made Abby feel bad about it, but the two of them could feel the string keeping them threatening to snap.

Often, it frustrated Abby. To always be the one receiving help and never giving it. She didn't blame her partner, but she was left at a crossroad. 

She never understood Owen more and it really pissed her off.

To no fucking end.

But Nora was far more patient than Abby had ever shown. Maybe it was the testament to love or maybe Nora was just a good person and Abby is shitty. She had more patience than Mother Thersea herself, and it amazed her. Always guiding Abby with a gentle hand, never getting upset with her even when she let her anger shine through.

It makes her feel undeserving of a love she could never earn.

This pure and untainted love had never touched her before, and she’d never fallen this hard. Abby didn’t want to be anywhere but here. She really thought this could be it. Nora could be the one. They could get through those hardships together, right? 

Then you came and overwhelmed her like a tsunami.

She was running late, which was completely out of the ordinary for Abby. Instead of her neat braid, her sun kissed-blonde hair was in a low bun. Underneath her eyes was evidence of her lack of sleep. She hadn’t been getting any as of lately and the bags only seemed to get deeper.

Abby wouldn’t call the fights constant, but it sure did feel like it.

The back and forth, having the same fight consistently. Abby was more than frustrated. The biggest efforts she made were dismissed by Nora, even making her upset at times. She was trying too hard and being annoying, or not doing enough and then it meant she wasn’t present in the relationship.

Abby felt her stuck at a wall, Nora on the other side of it and she couldn’t hear a damn thing.

So, she was running late.

One of the many fights  they’ve had with each other as of late. Nora is tired of dealing with a “baby gay” as she likes to remind her in the heat of their arguments. Abby gets offended, her lips forming into an even deeper pout, her porcelain skin flushed in anger before she gives them both space. 

Contemplating about the future of their relationship in the shower, causing her to be late to work in the process. 

Astronomically behind – her client arrived at the gym she worked at half an hour ago. The most recent argument with Nora plagued her morning. All they seem to do is argue, trapped in what they both need from the relationship, but all the two of them could do is argue, argue, argue.

But neither of them makes a move. They are still as the eerie silence that carries them into questioning. 

It’s when she’s too inside her head, fearing about the future, when she violently bumps into you. Body colliding with yours, Abby’s stone-like build causes you to crash into the pavement, your belongings scatter along with Abby’s. 

“Fuck. Are you alright? Sorry, I’m in such a hurry, I’m sure I wasn’t even paying attention.” You let her pick you from the ground, she does with ease. She looks right through you and you expect the excitement, the excited tears, or to be asked for a picture but it never comes.   

“For a moment I thought I ran into a wall—” You giggle to yourself. “Really, I’m alright.” You spoke softly. You pick up both of your belongings that had slipped from both of your grips, returning it to its owner. 

“Are you sure you’re okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Abby asks again. 

You think it’s cute how much lace of concern is conveyed in her cerulean eyes, full of light and wonder, so beautiful it stops you in your tracks. 

“No no! I’m fine! Really don’t worry about it.” 

Honestly, you’re still in amazement she has no idea who you are. It makes your fondness of her grow even more. The two of you depart quickly, go about your day, and you think nothing of it until you go to unlock your phone to message your manager and it’s not a picture of the moon you’d taken during the eclipse, it’s the mysteriously hot and kind woman you’d run into before. 

Shit. She has my phone. 

Lucky for you, Abby was coming to the same realization. Ready to bring out the workout she had planned out for her first client, opening her phone to access where she had written everything out only to find this isn’t her phone. Well, fuck. 

Abby hollers at Dina to take over the client for a moment, excusing herself for a moment before retreating into the office to call from her direct line. 

Idiot Anderson. Now you get to make an idiot of yourself, twice. 

Way to go. 

She calls her phone and it rings a few times before the familiar voice chimes through the speaker, the one she heard this morning during her fit of anxiety. 

“Please tell me this is the woman I ran into earlier or else I’m going to be even more embarrassed for answering a stranger's phone.” 

“Well you’re in luck.” 

“Oh thank fuck—” You curse yourself before being so vulgar with someone who you didn’t even know. “Sorry! God, this is all my fault. I must have swapped our phones when I picked them up and didn’t even realize.” 

“It’s okay, really, if I was paying attention where I was walking this morning it never would have happened. Did you wanna meet?” 

“No! Let me. Please, this is all my fault. I should at least be the one who makes the drive.” 

“Are you sure? It’s really no trouble. I don’t mind.” 

“I’m really sure.” 

Abby offers the address of work, thinking once after she does if it’s a good idea, a total stranger knowing where she works but she’s already giving the street name and suite number before she can even make her mind. Abby usually doesn’t get nervous but this situation has sent her into a frenzy, thinking about how dumb she could have been. Nora will get a good laugh out of it she thinks, then she is reminded of the fight the two of them were still in. She wonders if she’s even tried to reach out to her yet or if Nora’s just waiting until Abby’s anger rolls over. 

More favorably, the ladder. 

Until the two of them have the comfort of their lives, the cushion they have between their shared friends and the home they share twenty minutes out of the state, until it comes up again and they’ll be contemplating it all over again. Anxiously, the front desk girl, Bevs, the younger girl who has a crush on her, shyly comes up to her. 

Bevs says what she assumes is your name, confusing Abby in the process. 

“You know her?” 

“How could you not? She’s one of the most famous actresses ever.” Abby is stunned to say the least. Truthfully, she had no idea. Her lack of social media keeps her out of the loop and as much as her friends tease her about, if Abby knew who you were the first time around, she’s sure she wouldn’t have been able to say more than two words. Clearly, you’re a fresh face to her. Already, Abby knows Manny is going to have a field day when Bevs lets this information spill in her sheer excitement. 

Great, she thinks. 

“Oh.” 

“I put her in your office. Some of the clients were already starting to have questioning looks, putting the pieces together. Hey! Maybe they're as clueless as you.” 

“Bevs, go back to the front desk.” With a curt nod and realizing she has pushed too far, with a tail between her legs she retreats back to her post. 

Okay, Anderson, let’s get this over with. 

Abby smells you the minute she steps foot in her office. It’s not the usual pinewood scent the candle in her office radiates. There’s a lingering smell of lavender with just a hit of vanilla. It’s sweet as it engulfs her nostrils, she finds herself sniffling slightly, a silent beg for more of it. You’re standing the minute you’re aware of her presence. Painfully, Abby is aware of her lack of clothing. The tight sport jacket is left unopened, her black sweatpants, accompanied with her sports bra, abs on display as she watches your eyes examine her carefully. 

She’s not sure how to feel about it. 

There is a moment, a short one where your eyes go to her chest, the silver barbells constricting against the small fabric, clear as to what lies beneath. 

Abby does smirk at that. She’s only human. 

You keep staring at her for a minute longer, well it feels like one but Abby deems it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds. “Sorry to keep you waiting.” 

“It’s really not a problem.” The more time goes on, the sweeter you are. “It’s pretty close to where I live.” 

Abby didn’t know it then but you were lying straight through your teeth. The trainer didn’t know you moved around your entire day to make the phone swap or the butterflies swarming your stomach from just how attractive and nice she seemed to be. There was something about her that sent your caution flying to the wind, drifting in the leaves with the rest of your pride. 

“Well I appreciate you coming out this way, even if it’s in your area. I really wouldn’t have minded taking the drive.” Abby pulls out your phone as she hands you yours. It’s simple, transactional, and it should have just been left at that but you had a fondness of putting your foot in your mouth. 

“Are you a trainer here?” 

“Uh, yeah. Been doing it for a few years actually. I spent so much time here already, now I get paid for it. Can’t really complain.” 

“Do you ever do private sessions?” 

“Um-” Abby scratches the back of her awkwardly, not sure if you’re asking her genuinely or if you’re trying to insinuate something else entirely. 

“Oh fuck no! I didn’t mean it like that. I just have a….job opportunity I have to get in shape for and you just look like you know what you’re doing.” Abby thought you might as well point to her physique but if anything she was flattered. It was always nice knowing something she’s been working on for years, her longest standing commitment besides Nora, is appreciated. 

“Sure, we could work something out.” You slightly smile before you exchange phones, this time on purpose, to put in the other’s number. Normally, she didn’t give out her number to clients, but Abby makes an exception for you that day. To this day, she’ll never outwardly admit why she did, not even to herself. 

- 

Two years later, she’s single from her life being turned upside down by you. The casualty being her own relationship, leaving Nora behind was one of the hardest decisions she’s made. Nora never agreed on Abby taking the job. As much as Nora wished for Abby to be more open about their endeavors, as soon as she accepted an offer that could drastically expand the trajectory of their life, Nora couldn’t be asked to compromise another thing. 

That was that. Not even two months into Abby working for you and Nora had called it quits. Abby never talked about it, only you knew she had a girlfriend she used to talk about when you began training with her, and then it was just silent. Back then, you didn’t know her well enough to pry, so you didn’t. 

Even as time passed, the two of you became friends through your employment, spending all your time with her during press season for your upcoming film, Lonely Is The Muse, together. Today was the only day you had off, even if it means Abby technically had the day off, you insisted that both of you leave the hotel and go out for the day. It's the most peace you felt during the European leg of the tour. Only one more day of dealing with your sensory issues, people in your face telling you when and where to go, or the distasteful question regarding your past public breakup instead of the work you were promoting. 

Some interviewers were kind enough to let the drama go but some wanted to get their own viral moment, waiting for you to say the wrong thing. As the industry likes to say, any publicity is good publicity. 

When you’re America's sweetheart actress of the century, such luxuries can’t be afforded. 

As your manager likes to remind you, there’s a reputation you have to protect. 

“Would you like to head back now? Long day tomorrow. Last day of interviews and then your flight leaves first thing in the morning.” 

“Did Stassie put you up to this?” 

“Maybe.” 

“I thought you were supposed to be the fun one.” 

“Mhm, your definition of fun is letting you do whatever you want.” 

“And the problem with that is?” 

All Abby can do is chuckle. 

“What do you want to do then?” Abby asks. She takes note of the sparkle in your eyes, as blinding as the sun but obtaining the serenity of the moon. “I’m all ears sweetheart.” 

It’s how the two of you end up here, a rooftop party, a friend of a friend you said. The party was lowkey, more than the typical ones you would get invited. Maybe because you weren’t in Los Angeles, Miami, or New York — but tucked away on another continent — or perhaps everyone here is just discreet. 

There’s only two fans that come up to you instead of twenty. You’re thankful for some sense of normalcy, one night where you can just feel normal. It still never gets old, people coming up to you as they confess the impact you’ve had on their life. It feels unbelievable at times but you’re grateful for the luxury life you’ve been granted. 

“Here. No liquor tonight.” Abby hands you a glass of red wine, your favorite beverage of choice when you couldn’t have tequila. 

“Yes Ma’am.” You playfully salute her. More than anything, you enjoy the not so subtle chuckle. “Not that I don’t love your company but isn’t Stassie supposed to boss me around?” 

“She felt under the weather. Plus, we both know you don’t listen to her.” 

“And I listen to you?” Your hand plays with her loose blonde hair, smoothing out the white button she’s wearing. 

“Yeah, you do. I wonder why that is.” Abby is playing with fire tonight. Possibly due to the fact that you wouldn’t leave her side, not even for a moment, keeping your body close, practically gluing yourself to her. Yes, she’s charged with keeping you safe and protected but it seems you find enjoyment bringing it to another level entirely. 

“You’re much nicer to look at, that’s all.” It’s light, a quiet whisper, not meant to be heard by anyone — not even for Abby to hear. “Don’t wanna make my handsome bodyguard upset.” 

Faking your pout as you let the words leave your lips, Abby chuckles as you get closer to her, her body standing strong as you push your weight onto her. Stoic as always, while you lean on her, she keeps her eyes peeled. Ensuring your safety at all times. 

“Flattery isn’t going to get you a shot tonight.” 

“I’m just stating the obvious.” 

Abby chuckles, again. She’s delighted you’re enjoying yourself, even if it comes at her expense. There’s a soft jazz song playing outside, couples dancing to the music, you zone out for a moment as you look upon one in particular. 

They are older, possibly in their forties, raven hair beginning to gray, fine lines crinkle when they smile at each other but it’s hard to take note of anything else but the way the couple looks at each other. Your mind wonders how long they’ve been together, if it’s been for years, months, a couple weeks. 

It doesn’t really matter. You just want that. 

The feeling isn’t lost on you, especially when you’re in the arms of the woman you love. For her, she’s being protective, doing her job but you wish it was different. A bubbling desire dripping off your tongue, a need to have her close to you but because she wants. Not because she’s paid to. 

“If I can’t have any tequila shots, god forbid, you have to dance with me.” You down the rest of your wine, placing the empty glass on the bar. “C’mon, you can give Stassie an earful later.” 

Pulling her towards the makeshift dance floor, Abby leads as your head rests against her chest. The steady, soft heartbeat soothes you, a reminder of the safety you feel with her. Caught in the riptide of her kind eyes and heart full of gold. It’s what makes her so unique, so loved, so her. With a surprisingly good tone, Abby sings to the music softly before twirling you around and spinning your body back to her. 

“Is there anything you can’t do?” Your hand rubs lovingly on her lower back as she holds you in her arms. You take pride when it doesn’t feel transactional. When she holds you and it feels as if she was meant to. There’s nothing else comparable to it, her frame melting into yours as your soul finds solace in her warm embrace. 

“There’s plenty of things.” Playfully, Abby smirks. 

“Oh yeah. I’m sure.” 

The sarcasm practically drips out of you as her smirk grows wider. 

“Can I ask you something?” You hesitate for a moment as you find her beautiful blue eyes staring into your soul. It’s only then does everything troubling might dissipate while she holds you — secretly hoping it’s forever. 

“You can ask me anything.” 

You give yourself a moment to collect your thoughts as you move to the delicate beat. “Do you ever wish for a life where you could have had a normal life? I wonder if things could be different.” 

Immediately, Abby answers. 

“Not anymore, no, not for a second.” 

If it was even possible, Abby pulls you closer to her, not urging a word more. It’s how she is, cold and distant to some but they don’t feel the stutter in her breath when you’re near or the soft pad of her thumb rubbing soothingly on the back of your hand. Or the soft words of encouragement when you’re having a difficult day. 

They hear none of it. 

She dances with you for a couple more songs, before you find solace on the couch. You lay beneath the moonlight, your body cuddles into her side as you stare up at the sky. 

It’s lost on you how you’ve ended  with her, someone as kind and untainted as her, wanting to spend her free time with you, but you’re grateful for it. Whatever god you have to thank, you’ll get on your knees to praise their alter for bringing Abby into your life. She’s the best thing to ever happen to you and she doesn’t even know it. Albeit, she hardly knows the extent of how wonderful she is. 

“Why here?” 

“It’s a good night, nice weather. Why not?” 

A question with a question. It’s the most straightforward answer you’ll ever give her. Innuendos for the sweet girl to piece together, but with the soft circles being drawn her stomach with the pad of your finger leaves little to nothing to decode. 

“It’s nice, yeah.” 

Abby always has so little to say but her mind swarms with a thousand reasons why this is a bad idea and a million of why this is where the constellations in the jaded sky have led to you. Straight into the pits of innocence, a heart that’s been hurt more times than she can count but still as golden and whole as one could be. 

“What do you think of Italy?” 

“It’s nice.” 

“Nice? That’s all I get?” 

Abby smirks but her body stills when you play with the waistband of her trousers before gliding back to the security of her abdomen, carving the liner of her defined abs. The ones she tries so hard to cover up, but you saw on the very first day you met her. 

“Do you want more?” You ask, an eyebrow raising in suggestion. Abby knows it’s a double edged sword, one she doesn’t want to be injured with. 

“You’re playing a very dangerous game.” Cautiously, Abby warns. “I’m not sure that last drink was a great idea.” 

You rest your head on her sternum, sapphire eyes looking down at you as her hand finds home on your waist, the blunt of your nails scratching softly at her stomach. 

“They always seem like a great idea at the time, don’t they?” With a gentle hand, you caress her scarred cheek, the pad of your thumb gently tenderly kissing the freckled skin. Outlining the softness of her jaw with your left, while your right one refuses to leave her stomach. 

“I don’t see how anyone would ever want to leave you.” Abby hums, not giving you much to go off of, tight lipped as she’s always been. The Nora situation has always been on your mind. One day, Abby’s speaking of her like she’s the love of her life and the next? Abby stiffens so tight when you bring up her name you promise yourself to never speak of it again. Until now, almost two years later, you’re more curious than you have ever been. The fatal ending, not belonging to you, but still you paw for the answers with your greedy palms. 

“You can just ask me if you want to know. I can see the look in your eyes.” 

“What look? I don’t have a—” 

Abby tilts your chin with your palm, leaning into her touch as you often do. 

“Yes, you do.” 

“How do you know this look?” 

“Hm.” Her thumb pulls at your bottom lip, “You’re just trying to get me in trouble now.” 

Your tone shifts, your eyes become transcendent, more crystal clear than they’d been all night. 

“What happened between you and Nora?” You ask, treading lightly on the ground you’re skating upon, in fear the ground beneath you might just crack if you apply too much pressure. 

“Why is it so important to you?” 

“It’s not that it’s—” You face plant into her chest, giving yourself a moment to breathe. Fuck, even her chest smells good. 

“You don’t ask about anything unless it’s of value to anyone. You don’t waste time, you’re very adamant about it. Painfully so.” Blonde eyebrows relax as she closes her eyes for a moment, but her touch on you soothes you. It’s gentle; a somber comfort bleeding into blissful joy. 

“But I’ve spent a lot of time with you.” 

“Yes, you’ve spent a lot of your time with me.

Abby opens her eyes to see you, your head tilted to the right, as you look upon each carve of her angelic face, the one that could only be carved by the gods above, resembling an angel on earth. As pure as the snow with the biggest heart of gold you ever have had the pleasure of knowing. 

“What?” 

“I didn’t say a thing.” You smile slyly. 

“We didn’t break up because of you, if that’s what you’re asking.” Abby sighs, “You’re not some homewrecker. My home with Nora was already wrecked before we met.” 

“Are you just saying it to make me feel better?” 

“No, I’m not.” You play with the ends of her golden hair, it hurts to be this close to what you want but knowing it’s so clearly out of your reach, league even, all of it will end the same. “Nora wasn’t fond of her being my first relationship with a woman. It caused a ripple effect, me feeling like I wasn’t good enough and her feeling like she has to carry me in the relationship, emotionally anyway.” 

“Is that why you broke up?” 

“No.” 

“It was because of me.” You state, as a matter of fact, knowing there is no other truth to be known. With tears welling up in your eyes, an ache  in your heart, one that made you ache all over. The dread of the guilt weighing heavily on your heart, time and distance still isn’t enough for you to run from it. 

“It was a job that was a great opportunity. Alright? It wasn’t you, even if I hadn’t, we both wanted different things. I didn’t even realize it until after but I wasn’t happy. I promise, it has nothing to do with you.” 

What Abby didn’t know, you needed to hear her say those words. In the back of your head, a monstrous demon unleashes in your mind, telling you crashed her relationship. You were the problem and her inevitable doom, but she’s assuring you it wasn’t the case. 

“We hardly knew each other back then.” 

As pathetic as it sounds, Abby can’t imagine her life without you. 

“Yeah hardly.” 

There’s that look again, pouring into Abby’s soul as it eats her up whole, the gleam in your eyes begging for more. It’ll complicate things if Abby gets involved, she knows this, but it already seems like she is despite her best efforts not to be. 

“Did I do good? You always say you miss stargazing with your brother back home. I know it’s not as quiet as the cabin you have, but I thought it would be okay for now.” 

“The view isn’t bad, not one bit.” She admits as she lets you rub her abdomen, the goosebumps crawling upon her skin the more Abby lets you touch her as if she’s yours to hold. “Lev would like it. I’m convinced the kid likes you more than me now.” 

“As he should. I’m pretty damn amazing.” 

“He asks too many questions though.” 

“About what?” 

“I dunno…..things.” Abby retreats back into her shell, the layer of protection she uses to protect herself from getting hurt. Most of all, out of everyone the gods could torture her to be confused about, of course it has to be you. Everyone in your life is always begging for pieces of your time, pieces of your affection and bits of your time to suck you dry. Abby has always wondered how you juggle it all. It feels cruel to even think you would put her in the mix. 

Painfully, there’s nights like tonight, where she sees the desire swarming in your eyes — every part of her pleads to give in to the temptation. Give into something she’s never even let herself think about until the last few months. As thick as drywall, there was a barrier keeping her heart from you, one she kept to protect you and herself even. 

The absolute last thing she wanted was to wreck everything this has to offer. If she makes the wrong move, all of it can come crashing down on you…it’s the last thing she wants. Make you a martyr in her story, one she thinks and dreams of often but knows you’re too big for her to exist in your life. The circles you run in don’t even exist in the same planet, the same fucking universe if Abby’s being honest. 

“What things?” You pout, your hand traveling south, caressing her thigh with a familiarity Abby wishes you didn’t have. She wishes for a lot but they never come true, that’s all you can be, a dying wish Abby curses upon a fading star.  

“It’s just stupid shit, not worth mentioning.” 

“Abby…” 

“Yeah?” 

“I—” You take a deep breath, your voice already shaky and you haven’t even told her yet. “I don’t think you even know how much you mean to me.” Abby isn’t sure where you’re going with this, terrifying her instantly. 

Have you finally had your fill of her? Were you gonna fire her? Now? 

“Lev doesn’t just talk to you about us.” 

“Us?” Nervously, Abby stomach clenches, unprepared for where this conversation is heading. 

“Why are you so scared?” 

Abby visibly and loudly gulps, almost making you giggle slightly. 

“I-I’m not.” 

The stonewall she attempts to hide behind but you won’t let her, not tonight. Slumping in the shadows, waiting for you to find someone else to love as she watches your happiness from a far, that’s what she allows herself. Nothing more and nothing less. 

“Abs, look at me.” She meets your eyes, away from the constellations in the sky, afraid if she looks for a moment too long she’ll be stuck here forever. “Talk to me, m’right here, not going anywhere unless you want me to.” 

Instantly, Abby grips your hips, keeping you in your place. 

“No, that’s not—” 

“What?” 

“I’m not what you want. I’m surely not what anyone needs. Hell, I’ve only been with one woman which is deemed to be for not being enough, right? I’m the girl who came out too late, who doesn’t have enough experience but because I’m built like some fucking adonis I need to know whatever the fuck I’m doing but I don’t. I never know what I’m doing. The only thing I know how to do is protect you, that’s all I’m good for and I’m not gonna screw that up just because I—” 

“Because what?” Your pelvis is on top of hers, your face coming closer to Abby’s, watching as you are irrevocably close to her, closer than you’ve ever been, wet lips ghosting over her pouty pink lips. Abby doesn’t even know when you moved, how you got so close, too lost in her own head to register your movements. 

“It doesn’t matter.” Abby puffs out. 

“It matters to me.” You sink into her, further, if it's even possible. “No one matters more than you, alright?” 

“But there’s people.” Abby looks for an excuse to get up, she comes up enough so she’s sitting up against the armrest of the patio couch, holding your lower back as she does so, leaving you straddling her hips. 

“I don’t care. All that matters is you.” You push a piece of blonde hair away, seeing her beautiful cheeks more clearly, her shining blue eyes finding its unique path to your heart, the one especially made for her. “Here just let me talk, alright? You don’t have to say anything. Just listen.” 

Abby is nearly crying, practically purring as you run your fingers through her cascading blonde hair. It’s too much but not enough. Although she is sure of one thing, the one thing she wants more than anything. 

“I’ve always been one for pretty girls. I had a reputation around Hollywood, always chasing one after the next, never reaching my fill or as the tabloids like to say.” You chuckled half-heartedly; the wound cutting deeper than you would have liked. “My publicist having to pay paparazzi an obscene amount of money to get these photos from ever hitting online, month after month, it was pathetic really. Just trying to fill a hole, one I didn’t even know how to fill.” 

“I didn’t know that.” 

“It’s not something I’m proud of and I never wanted you to see me differently but I’m not ashamed anymore though. I’m not that person anymore. I haven’t been since I met you.” Abby falls silent, her cheeks turning crimson before she can try to hide it “You not knowing how I was, it's just the humbling I needed. Not to mention you were the most beautiful woman I had ever seen— you still are— but you had a girlfriend so I kept my feelings silent. Something just felt different with you and then you were single and I was afraid of you.” 

“Why?” 

“Because I didn’t want to ruin you so I made a promise to myself. I would never start anything with you, not unless I was in love with you.” 

“You love me?” 

“It’s impossible not to.” You sigh into her, forehead pressed against hers, her strong hold not letting go. “You don’t have to say anything or do anything. I don’t expect anything in return. I just can’t live in a world where you think because you’re not experienced as some, you think you’re less than people who are.” 

“It’s true, I’m not there with everyone else and it shows.” 

“Abby, you’re not getting it.” 

“Well, no shit. I’m not good enough for any of this, you especially.” 

“It’s not…” You bite your lip as you reach for her hands on your waist, intertwining them with your own. “Abs, it would’ve saved me a lot of trouble.” Your lips ghost over her lips again, but this time Abby inches closer, her breath warm as it hits your mouth. 

“What?” 

“If I was a patient person and waited for you.” 

More than before, Abby’s breath is heavy as the rise and fall of her chest is rapid, trying to calm herself down but it’s impossible when you’re this close. It’s a lot for her, maybe she’s overly sensitive, but your touch is practically lighting her on fire. Abby wonders if it will ever be able to be put out or if your magnetic touch will leave her scorned. 

Puppy eyes inwardly pleading for an ounce of your touch, so sweet as she supports your weight with her strong thighs, anchoring you to her — never quite letting go. A single glance detrimental to the layer of protection she built around herself. 

“There’s no more waiting, m’right here.” Abby closes the gap indefinitely, lips connecting with yours as they move in perfect harmony, as if this is what she was made for. Involuntarily, she whimpers in your mouth as you gently tug at her bottom nibble at her bottom lip, your tongue sliding in as it dominates her own. It happens too quickly — the way her very being melts into you. 

Like honey to a bee, there’s nothing that’s ever been so sweet. 

This is all you need. 

“Abby?” 

“Yeah, angel?” 

“Let’s get out of here.”

taglist: @brackishkittie @only4theweeknd @tlouloser @marvelwomenarehot0 @grey-jedi12 @r3starttt @bittersu1te @pxgeturner @maxinephobia @marsworldd @aouiaa @twopeoplee @i-lov3-w0men @lvlymicha @half-of-a-gay @pa-co @rkivedpages @abbyspup @lucidfairies @lizzygrant @yourfriendlyneighborhoodeden @iluvme9 @skzhoiic @angelynn-nicole @hearts4joongie @moonyvs4 @loveyru @imdrowningindispair @random-fag @swinesb @spacewlf

[nachocheezos21]

personally blaming @randomtheidiot and @ofchaosandlight for the angst posting on the comments /j

but anyway !! .:3

[betweenblackberrybranches]

Hanahaki comic part 3

Part 1 Part 2

Ah well they got their feelings out... now they should really have a long talk.

Sun and Moons flowers are still growing eventhough they confessed.. curious huh?

Well and the daycare is just fully trashed after their freak out... luckily y/n found them at the tail end of it or this could have gotten an absolutly heartbreaking route...

[itslilacokay]

thought of a comic idea

i might turn this into an actual comic but for now take this in the meantime

also just realized this is the 69th post lmao

[keuwibloom]

Do you ever think of me and my two hands?

... And wondered why they never had the chance to lose you?

Tragic soulmates Errorink where they don't end up together. Or they DO, but end up seperating anyways.

Error belongs to loverofpiggies

Ink belongs to Comyet

[perpetuallyconfused10]

Im the one who asked about requests lol, I just have this Hotch thought and I can't stop thinking about it 🫂😭

Imagine Garcia "screaming" about a video, telling the whole team about it (except Hotch and Reader), and that video is on tiktok. When they spill something about the video, Hotch and Reader ask which video they're referring to, not knowing it's from a tiktok account where the person makes videos on Hotch x Reader (like edits taken from some interview where they look at each other, slightly touches and things like that) and it's a whole profile with a lot of videos like that! So the whole team teases them and they obviously like eachother!!

Feel free to change anything!!

Gone Viral, Gone Wrong

Thank you to this anon for submitting my first request! I might have written it (and especially Hotch) be a little (way) too sappy, but I love your idea so much and I hope I did it some type of justice! WC: 3.3K

GIF by ssa-aaron-hotch-hotchner

There must be something on your face. Toothpaste, maybe, or coffee on your shirt, or a tear in your trousers. Something to explain the numerous pairs of eyes following you as you dash for the elevator, just as you always do. 

This morning’s been one for the books. Between a text from your highschool ex-boyfriend, congratulating you on your ‘newfound fame’ — whatever he means by that, you don’t know — and the incomprehensibly slurred voicemails you woke up to from your sister, you aren’t quite sure what to do with yourself.

You tell yourself you’re probably imagining it. But Anderson doesn’t say a word to you as you both make your way to the BAU, just casts you sidelong glances between the rapid texts he’s sending. You hope to God it’s not you, that he's just having an awful morning, then scold yourself for it. If you’re not off to a good start, at least somebody should be.

It’s the silence in the bullpen that confirms your suspicions. Emily, JJ, and Garcia sit huddled around Emily’s computer, squeezed onto two chairs they’ve pulled together. Morgan leans over them to look at the screen. He’s in the middle of laughing at something Garcia’s said when you walk in. 

You don’t even need Reid’s not-so-subtle hiss of “Guys–” to know you’re not going crazy. The smirks that drop from their faces, the giggles that extinguish themselves as you enter through the double doors, are more than enough. 

Four profilers and a technical analyst, as it turns out, can be rather terrifying when the force of their stares are directed at you. 

A sheepish grin tugs at your lips as you hold up your peace offering: a tray of coffee. “Hi?”

You’ve come to know how the team works. You know exactly how they react when ambushed, how they spring to action like a well-oiled machine.

There’s something a little mechanical to them now, bared in their responses to your arrival. After giving you one of his usual tight-lipped smiles, Reid flips open a random file on his desk and begins to read. JJ grabs the computer mouse, clicks a few times, and turns away from the monitor to greet you. Morgan clocks the drinks in your hands and conjures a grin just a little wider than normal. 

“Morning, sunshine,” he says as he plucks the tray from your hands, thanking you with a squeeze to your forearm. 

Garcia, eyeing the gesture, nearly chokes on the end of the pen she’s chewing. She stands to usher you over to your desk, her chirpy voice a balm attempting to smooth over what has been a very odd start to your working day. 

“What were you guys looking at?” You ask her, eyebrows raised. If anyone’s going to tell you what’s going on, Penelope is, without a doubt, most likely to spill.

You’re disappointed – and even more confused – when she stands her ground. Through her ramble, you just about make out the words “cat” and “spa” before she’s kissing your cheek and speeding away to your lair. 

You sigh as you switch on your own computer. One thing is clear. The team doesn’t like to be ambushed. And, somehow, that is exactly what you have done. 

—

After finishing off one of your consults, you suffer through a morning briefing that ends up being far more complicated than it needs to be. It’s only a paperwork day, by the looks of things. In theory, this is the ‘easiest’ your job gets; if you’re not called out on an emergency, you can bank on a day of case reports and shitty coffee. 

Nothing is ever easy at the BAU, not even now. Everything is out of order. There’s none of the usual idle chatter that precedes a briefing, just a fragile silence. Rossi moves from his normal position to take your place between Reid and JJ. He mutters something about the chair being uncomfortable and shoos you away from your seat. Though you can’t resist the opportunity to call him an old man for his pedantics, you acquiesce and take his spot instead. You find nothing wrong with it. 

Then Hotch walks in to start the briefing, and you find about a hundred reasons to curse David Rossi. He’s wearing the gray suit, again, the one he likes pairing with his red tie. That should be a crime in itself. When he takes the only seat available — his usual seat, the one now next to you — you’re almost sure you hear JJ snort. Emily pats her on the back as she conceals it with a very unconvincing cough.

Hotch frowns in your direction, probably mulling over the change in seating plan, then turns his attention to JJ. “Are you alright?”

The blonde clears her throat. “Fine. Thanks, Hotch,” she says. 

Garcia rests her elbows on the table, her mouth concealed by the palm of her hand. 

Hotch nods, casting another short glance your way. “Good.”

Then he launches into the briefing, and you can almost convince yourself things are perfectly normal, that your face isn’t alight with heat and you’re not avoiding looking at him, that everything is fine. When you’re dismissed, you scurry towards the door fast enough you almost miss it. 

“Garcia?” His voice is quiet, his tone soft with something disapproving hiding beneath it. “My office, please.”

Everything is decidedly not fine. 

—

By noon, you can’t take it anymore. “Emily Prentiss, what the fuck are you doing?”

The question comes out louder and more harshly than you’d intended. In your peripheral vision, you see Reid’s eyes widen at the desk next to yours. Emily, halfway through a sandwich, freezes. 

“I’m sorry?”

The grin fades from her face. 

You huff. “You’ve been looking between me and your computer for the last half-hour. What is it? Is there something on my face?” Morgan laughs from the other side of the bullpen, and you raise your voice a little in desperation. “Seriously. Have I done something wrong?”

JJ must have heard the commotion, because she pokes her head out of her office door. She takes one look at you and sighs. “Probably best to get it over with, Em.”

When Emily hesitates, your eyes narrow. “Get what over with?”

She stands and beckons you over to her desk, firing up her computer screen as you settle into her chair. JJ comes down the stairs to join you. Though they don’t move, you can practically feel Morgan and Reid staring at the three of you from across the room. 

What you see projected on Emily’s screen doesn’t make things any clearer.

“That’s—” you pause, dumbfounded. “Why are you looking at me and Hotch?”

The picture is easy to place. It must have been taken a few days ago, during a small-town case. Hotch had asked you to deliver a profile to the media when JJ was working on something else. It was far from the first time you’d faced the press head-on during your time at the Bureau, but Hotch had stood by your side anyway. 

You’re not sure why she’s chosen this photo, if any, to look at. The wind’s blowing your hair into your face, and you’re midway through changing expressions so it almost looks like you’re in pain. 

“Just watch,” Emily says. She presses the spacebar and the picture bursts into action.

—

“—If you believe you have any information that may relate to this case, we’d appreciate you calling the following number…” you say. You proceed to rattle off the number for the tip line JJ’s set up, but only get halfway through before everything derails. 

“How do we know this isn’t all just bullshit?” 

The voice overpowering yours is weathered, and so is the man who pushes through the crowd of journalists to get close to you and Hotch, whose posture you see straighten in an instant. You watch as the reporters from the city turn to look at the interloper, pens out and waiting, no doubt, for either you or your boss to slip up.

For a long moment, Hotch watches the man, his face twisted in irritation. He merely restates the tip line number and your request for any potential witnesses to come forward.

But the skeptic doesn’t let up. “This guy’s an outsider. Not one of us. Everyone here knows each other, they have done for years—”

“We’re not trying to cause a panic,” you say, your tone even, “We don’t want you all to turn on each other. But the man we’re looking for knows this town. He’s confident finding his way around the forest, even the areas that haven’t been mapped out yet. He knows the shortcuts, which roads are quiet and which are too risky to take. We’re asking you to exercise caution, and to report anything suspicious if you see it.”

“So what? A few pins on a map and you’re convinced it’s one of us?”

Hotch’s jaw tightens. This case has been harder on him than most, and you can sense that he’s on the verge of responding in a way he’ll regret later. You put a hand on his forearm as he raises it to retort, squeezing it gently in the hopes he’ll get the signal you really don’t have the seniority to be sending him: stand down. He takes a deep breath, and you let your hand slide down to meet his wrist, guiding it just a fraction backwards to rest by his side. The contact lasts only a second, maybe two, before you let him be. 

When he finally speaks, his voice is measured, his eyes slow to drag themselves from your face. “We’re not here to defend the science behind criminal profiling. Our priorities remain finding the person responsible for these crimes and the safety of this community until we do. If you have any information at all, please don’t hesitate to contact us. We appreciate your cooperation.”

Even the most amateur journalist would know he’s done answering questions. Hotch gives a brief nod, turns and leads you out of the Georgia heat and back into shelter of the precinct. All the time, his hand hovers over your back, his gaze searching for any potential disruptions. 

Then there’s his voice, deep and almost inaudible. You feel his breath brush your earlobe. “Thank you.”

—

Oh. 

Now you’re looking at it from an outsider’s perspective, you do look a little…cozy with Hotch. Not enough to walk the line of unprofessionalism, but enough for you to notice it. 

Emily folds her arms, leans back in her chair. “What’s that about?”

Avoiding her eyes, you shrug. “What’s what about?”

“The canoodling,” JJ says with a smirk, and you slap her arm. 

You’re a profiler. You should know your little attempt at denial isn’t going to work, but it doesn’t stop you from trying. “Canoodling? Seriously, Jen? I don’t think anyone under the age of eighty has ever said the word ‘canoodling’.”

You hear Penelope’s kitten heels clacking against the floorboards before you see her. “Doesn’t mean you’re not doing it,” she sings. Her arms wrap around your shoulders from behind.

You groan. “Penny, you know I love you, but what are you doing here?”

“I got lonely,” she says, and her expression is so genuine that you can’t even bring yourself to be upset with her. “Just wait…”

Leaning over you to press the escape button, she exits out of full screen mode and points to the corner of the screen. When you read the number she’s showing you, your breakfast threatens to make a reappearance.

“Would you look at that?” Emily laughs. “It’s gone up.”

You blink. Once, twice, three times. And once more, for good measure. “Six-hundred-and-fifty thousand people have seen that?”

It all starts to make sense. The texts, the calls, the stares, the team’s behavior…you don’t know whether to be relieved or horrified. On the bright side, you’ve done nothing wrong, nothing that could get you fired. But more than half a million people have seen you practically mooning over your boss.

Emily makes a noncommittal noise. “Half of them were probably Garcia. And a good twenty-five or so were us, if that helps.”

“It doesn’t,” You resist the urge to slam your head against the desk. You’ll have to settle for burying it in your hands instead. “Six hundred and…fuck. And they all think–?”

“—That you’re in love with our boss? And that he’s in love with you? Yes.”

“Oh, fuck.” “They think that, too,” says JJ, sounding sympathetic. If it weren’t for the frankly dastardly smile on her face, you’d think she was on your side.

Picturing the general population witnessing you make an idiot of yourself is bad enough. How do you even conceptualize that many people? How many stadiums could you fill solely with people who have seen you head over heels for your boss? Even worse is the thought of Anderson, or your parents, or – God forbid – even Strauss having seen it. You’ll be suspended. Fired. Or, even worse, be called into a mediated meeting with Hotch and HR, where they’ll ask him if you’ve been making him feel uncomfortable. 

Emily’s voice pulls you from your shame spiral. “And there’s more, too.”

This world hates you. You’re certain of that as she opens Twitter, putting “FBI agents” into the search bar and bombarding you with hundreds, maybe thousands, of tweets with your image attached. Some are disturbingly sweet. Others poke fun at how obvious you are, and even more disturbingly, seem to think your feelings are reciprocated. That’s not a mental path you can allow yourself to go down. 

“So…” You say after a long ten minutes. “What do we do?”

Footsteps, then Rossi appears at the stop of the stairs. “You go back to work. Your break’s over.”

He’s lucky you’re so fond of him. Had it been anyone else (save maybe one person) to disrupt your shame spiral, you’d have been furious. More than furious. You’re still a little irritated now.

There was nothing wrong with his fucking chair. 

—

Your mission is simple. Avoid. Deny. Deflect. The rest of your afternoon drags along in a blur of paperwork and teasing comments you choose to ignore (mostly courtesy of Morgan — JJ and Emily have decided you’re nearing your breaking point and vow to leave you alone). 

Five o’clock can’t come soon enough. Even when it does, there’s no reprieve. Reid turns out to be the one to betray you as everyone else packs up to leave, their files in his hand. “Sorry,” he whispers. To his credit, he looks like he means it.

“Judas,” you hiss back, but you stand and take the reports from him anyway. 

Morgan raises an eyebrow at you. “Going somewhere special?” 

You flip him off, muttering something under your breath that sounds just a little like “your funeral”. 

The stairs to Hotch’s office feel much longer and much steeper than usual. At every step you reconsider. Reid’s probably still heading for the elevator now. If you catch him, you can guilt him into doing this instead. But your thoughts carry you close enough for Hotch to spot your approach through the blinds. He rises from his desk, opening the door before you can even reach for the handle. 

You can’t even look him in the eyes. “Hi.”

Stepping aside to let you inside, he says your name, and it sounds so warm coming from his mouth. You wonder if he knows about your newfound fame, too. He seems to be focusing his stare directly between your eyebrows. 

“I just came to drop these off.” 

As if your words aren’t explanation enough, you hold up the files for him to see.

“Thank you.” Hotch reaches out to take them, and you feel his fingers brush yours as he does. He stops before the exchange is over. “Are you alright? You seem distracted.”

It won’t be long now before the sun sets. It’s making its final play for glory now, golden light filtering through the window and settling over Hotch’s face. Hints of amber tones surface in his eyes, usually so dark and unreadable, making him appear much softer than usual. Safer.

You sigh. “I think some people got a little more out of that press release in Georgia than we intended them to.”

“Oh. Yes.”

“You know about that?”

You wouldn’t half mind if a wormhole opened up, right there in his office, and transported you to another universe where you don’t even have to think about this moment ever again.

“I do.” He winces. “Garcia’s computer system is the most secure in the FBI, but she doesn’t have an inside voice.”

The dry comment shocks a laugh out of you. “No, she doesn’t. But…it’ll die down, right? No one is actually going to believe that. Us being together would be—”

“Unprofessional,” Hotch supplies after a beat. “Very unprofessional.”

He reaches backwards to put the files you’ve given him on his desk, somehow managing to do so without actually taking a step away from you. If anything, he gets a little closer. 

“Exactly. Strauss would kill us if we even thought about it,” you say, “Not that we would, I’m just…”

Now he looks down at you, straight into your eyes. You swear his pupils are dilated, that he slips for just a half-second and lets his attention drift down to your lips. “There’d be a lot of paperwork.”

You nod. “Too much, really. You’ve got enough already. It’d also be…”

“…Nice.”

Hotch stops breathing, lips downturned in a frown. You’re sure you’ve heard him wrong. But half a minute passes, and he doesn’t retract his statement, though he looks as if he’s close to doing so.

“I’m sorry?” Your voice is barely above a whisper. He’s close enough you catch a hint of his cologne, and the woody scent of it makes your head spin. 

“I can say it again,” he says through a long exhale, searching your face for any sign of discomfort as he takes another step closer. His breath ghosts your neck. “Or we can forget this ever happened.”

Your answer is almost immediate. “Let’s not do that.”

Hotch tilts your chin up so you’re forced to look at him. You lean upwards to meet him halfway in a kiss that is soft and tentative, the sort that promises everything and asks for nothing in return. One of your hands cups his jaw, and both of his find their way home to your waist, rubbing circles into your skin through your shirt. You smile against his lips. He leans forward as if to chase yours when you pull away.  It hits you, now, that this is really happening. The months you've been agonizing over this - whether to make a move or to shut the part of you that cares for him away - have led you here. There's much you've got to think over: what this means for both of your careers, the risk to the team's dynamic, whether it'll even work in the long run, if Hotch wants that too. You know he's thinking the same thing; his face adopts the same mask of concentration it always does when he's considering something. You take a deep breath. It might be hard, but does that stop it from being worth a shot? In the end, you don't think it does.

“I think I’m gonna order takeout tonight,” you say quietly. “There’s a really good Thai place down the street from me.”

Hotch clears his throat. “That sounds nice.”

Shaking your head, you rest both hands on his shoulders, laugh at him. “That was my way of asking you if you wanted to join me.”

“Oh.” 

His brow furrows. For a terrible moment, you think he’s about to say no. And then, “Haley has Jack tonight. I…I’d like that.”

You beam, pull back, and head towards his desk to find a pen and a scrap bit of paper. “Here’s my address.” A quick glance down into the bullpen, which is thankfully empty. “Give it ten minutes, then follow me?”

“Okay,” Hotch says. Even you can tell he’s grinning like an idiot, and you make a note of the rare expression. “Okay. I’ll see you soon?”

Squeezing his hand, you kiss his cheek and walk towards the door. “Soon.”

You feel his eyes on you until you reach the elevator.

If you got this far, thank you for reading! I've watched a lot more Dharma and Greg than CM, lately, so I have a feeling that my version of soft!Hotch is currently just a grownup version of Greg Montmgomery????

[wandixx]

I'm not much for naming things but: Danny's associated with green and M'gann's a White Martian, so... Spearmint (like the green and white mint candies)? Just a thought.

Prompt: Magic removed Amity Park from the map. JL didn't notice, but in an Alderaan type moment (Star Wars ref. yay!) The martian on Watchtower monitoring duty heard the residents get silent unanimously.

Of course they need to be investigated! So M'gann gets her watch partner to take over and flies there, discovering an odd green rift of death energy doing a black hole effect and it sucks her in. Danny gets landed on/ flown into when she tumbles through the rift. She tried getting a message through to JL when she felt herself getting sucked in, but the message was not received due to ectoplasmic interference.

So Danny has to figure out how to get her AND Amity Park back home!

(Just a thought. I'm curious how you flesh it out if you do!)

This is such an interesting idea, and it definitely deserves much more story than I can write in single prompt, so this here is just a beginning and I will continue. I hope it's up to your expectations

Also, I really love the Spearmint idea

*****

M’gann understood the importance of monitor duty in Watchtower, she really did. She also understood why they were taught it while still in this gray area between fully dependent sidekicks and fully independent heroes, that was the main reason the Young Justice Team even existed.

It didn’t make it any less boring. Even when she had a decent duty partner. Don't get her wrong, Green Arrow was a much better option than Batman or Superman, it was just awkward. At least he seemed equally done with it and didn't scold her for jumping between satellite cameras just a bit too fast to actually ‘monitor’ anything.

And it was only twenty minutes into the two hour shift.

One of the sixty (or so) screens, the one directly in front of her, blinked to the view of the American Midwest. She was about to skip further, when a sudden movement caught her attention. She clicked a few keys to review the footage and asked, still unsure if her eyes weren't deceiving her.

“Did the entire city… just disappear?“

Green Arrow nodded, equally stunned.

“I'm going to check this out” she spluttered, already flying out of the room and doing her best to get Zeta to send her as close as possible. It was a bit tricky when she couldn't see the keyboard. She managed though, so before the adult hero even finished yelling that it was above her skill level, she was out.

From there, getting to the disappeared city was a piece of cake.

She stopped right in tracks when the thing came in view. M'gann had no idea how to describe it. It was a green and white and black storm but not, glass, see-through dome but not, deep space but also decidedly not. It made her want to run away but also come closer, almost like it was tugging at her. Like some pseudo, mental in nature, gravitation.

Oh, wait, no. It was an actual, physical force that after a quick test turned out to be inescapable for her.

Green Arrow, perhaps, maybe probably was kinda right. It was so high above her skill level that a balled napkin from this height would cause serious damage. Thank Batman for comms that she could use to call a backup!

The comms, that, of course, didn't work the one time she needed them.

She sent the message anyway, describing everything to the best of her ability, even though it was only a tip of the iceberg. Just in case, if the magical storm thing just made her comm one way communication only. It was highly unlikely, but who was she, if not an optimist.

She barely closed her mouth, when she was jerked sideways before the whole world became blurred.

She later would have a hard time telling anyone how it felt, to be inside the thing. She was basically powerless, thrown around randomly despite clearly keeping all of her abilities. She couldn't see, couldn't tell which way was up and down, couldn't change direction even a little bit. The rumble of the thing was so loud she couldn't hear her thoughts, throwing her brain so off the loop she forgot what her name was. She was crying probably, almost puking, her limbs hitting any and every part of her body.

At first, she didn't even realize she was out, so dazed from the ride. She didn't even see the flying boy until a while after she crashed into him, throwing them both off the sky. Neither of them caught them before they slammed into the ground. Somehow she ended up cushioning the boy's fall. M’gann couldn’t breathe for a moment. She kinda deserved it for ramming into him in the first place though.

By the time she could use her lungs and behave like a social creature again, the boy scrambled off her and just crouched, intensely staring, anxious and awestruck at the same time. She sat up and gave him once over herself.

He was around her physical age, but much skinnier than her or anybofnher teammates, build like a twig. He had fluffy, white, almost glowing hair, caucasian complexion, and wore a black and white jumpsuit with a tool belt. Big ‘P’ on his chest indicated he was someone from a hero/villain scene, and from general vibes she got, M’gann was leaning towards a hero. He was kinda cute. She coughed awkwardly when she realized how long they just sat in silence.

“Hi?”

Apparently it was enough to release an incoherent babbling from the boy.

“Hi, um… Miss Martian, ma'am? I'm Phantom. What are you doing here? Is the rest of your Team going to fall off the sky too? Justice League?”

“Not right now probably”

She was ignored. Phantom just kept panicking.

“Is this some of your villain's schemes? Are you alright? You crashed pretty hard, sorry I landed on top of you by the way, do you–?”

“I'm fine, don't worry I got worse”

“Sure…”

“Sorry I threw you off the sky”

“Not your fault, really, it's fi–”

“You asked what I'm doing here. I went on my own to investigate when I saw the city blink out of existence and got sucked in. I'm not sure if my report from site made it through, but they know where I went, so they'll soon come to help, don't worry”

Phantom did not stop worrying.

“Alright, cool, cool” he ran his hand through his hair, tugging at them “The Justice League knows you mysteriously disappeared along with an entire city. This is fine, totally fine, absolutely–”

“You're panicking”

“No shit Sherlock. Someone kidnapped my city again and I have no idea how to fix it because my usual tactic is ‘punch the cause of the problem into submission’ and this time I can't punch the storm. Now you're here so if something happens, I’ll have pissed of Justice League to worry about because, of course, it will be my fault. You could be overshadowed and I have no clue what's going on but I have to fix it as soon as–”

“Breathe Phantom“ she interrupted again, projecting what the Team called ‘calming vibes’. Since it didn't involve outright entering someone's brain and humans almost didn't react to it, it was an okay thing to do without asking even on non-villains. “Remember, I'm a hero, not a damsel in the distress you have to protect non stop”

“Of course, you're not. You're Miss Martian. You're amazing, but it doesn't give me any more of an idea on what's going on nor what to do with Justice League when they come, obviously furious because everyone in Amity and their mother will testify that it was somehow my fault, especially if–”

“Hey, hey, none of that. I know you're a good guy and they’ll too. I will vouch for you if for some reason they get misled”

Phantom looked her in the eyes as if he was trying to read her mind himself without even an ounce of psychic powers. She could tell if he used it.

“I could be a bad guy,” he said seriously after a moment of silence.

“I know you're not”

“You don't know me”

“You spent almost all of our interaction agonizing over how to save your city. It's not typical bad guy behavior”

“I could be acting”

M’gann didn't even dignify it with her response other than an incredulous stare.

“ Alright, if I've been acting, I would be a lot cooler but still… I could be acting!”

“I'm a literal psychic, remember? I didn't read your thoughts, don't worry, I know it's invasive for humans. But I got a general overview of who you are, and your vibes matched pretty well with the vibes of good guys”

“Sure, of course, why not,” he muttered, taking a moment to reboot “Why is this my life now?”

M’gann decided it wasn't to her and well… Phantom wasn't wrong, she didn't know him, so however she'd try to answer it was pretty much hit or miss. But from what she'd seen of him, she was curious to learn more.

“Nevermind, let's get you a Specter Deflector before anyone tries to use you as a meatsuit” he said, catching her wrist to drag her somewhere.

She let him lead her. He still didn’t have any nefarious reasoning, and hey! Maybe she'll finish this adventure with a new teammate!

[Sure M’gann. Just a teammate. Don't worry, Danny won't be a panicked mess all of the time here]

[afewproblems]

Prompt 53. "I'm flirting with you!" Part Two

A follow up to This Post

@happymediummm I promise the answer to your ask will be up soon in part three!!

Eddie stews in his room for three days following the incident at Steve's house. 

Wayne attempts to coax him out with food and coffee, even opening up the pack of bacon they'd been saving in the freezer, anything to try and get Eddie to talk to him. 

"I'm just worried s'all," he says softly from Eddie's doorway on the third day, his expression pinched in that way Eddie hates, "you should go out, do something, come on".

Wayne claps his hands together and disappears for a moment only to return with a tape case from the living room.

"Wayne, no--"

"It's overdue Eds, just bring it back for me would ya?"

Eddie groans into his hands at the triumphant expression on his uncle's face as he gets up from his bed and tugs on his leather jacket. 

"Since your friends work there," Wayne says brightly, gesturing with the tape as he hands it over to Eddie, "you should see if they waive the late fee for us". 

"I agreed to take it back, not talk to people," Eddie grumbles under his breath as Wayne shakes his head and gives his shoulder a squeeze.

"At least you won't be growing mold anymore, sitting there in the dark," Wayne says with a wink, ignoring the indignant scoff Eddie makes.

"Store closes in a half hour kid, you better hurry!"

Shit.

Eddie grumbless petulantly as he hurries out the door, ignoring the way Wayne compares his groans to a haunted house door.

He doesn't smile at the jib, and it doesn't make him laugh for the first time in days as he gets into the van, it doesn't!

The parking lot of Family Video is empty, but what did he really expect on a Wednesday at half past eight in the evening. 

The Open sign is still on at least but the low lights in the building and the bright copper glare of the sunset make it so much more difficult to see who is working tonight. 

He could just toss the tape into the return slot and wait out the late fees, he's sure another video store will eventually open up in Hawkins, they can take their business there.

Eddie sighs heavily as he shuts off the van and yanks out the key, "dammit Wayne," he mutters under his breath as he gets out and makes his way to the door. 

Eddie winces at the sharp jingle of the bell above the door and looks around, his head on a swivel, looking for any sign of Steve and his big, stupid, hair.

Robin waves from the counter as Eddie spots her, she's grinning at him with a sly look on her face as she leans against the counter, the multiple buttons and pins on her vest clink against the glass surface.

"There he is," Robin crows, drumming the counter, "I was beginning to think Steve had kidnapped you or something, were you allowed out for good behavior?"

She seems to realize what she had just implied and winces, shaking her head as Eddie snorts mirthlessly. 

"Uh, no, I just came to return this for my uncle," Eddie mumbles, keeping his eyes level with the counter rather than Robin's eyes. 

She frowns at him, taking the tape he slides across the counter and scanning it without dropping her gaze. 

"What's with you?" She says suspiciously. 

Robin drums her fingers lightly against the counter, as the large computer beeps acknowledging the return.

"Nothing, tired," Eddie shrugs, he's not about to tell Robin about what happened, though it is weird that she doesn't already know? 

Maybe she wasn't in on it, he can't imagine that Buckley would approve of a prank like that on another 'friend of Dorothy' but she was Steve's best friend first and foremost.

A song comes on over the small Family Video speakers, humming in the background. 

'All I wanna do when I wake up in the morning is see your eyes

Rosanna, Rosanna…'

Robin wrinkles her nose, her eyes traveling towards one of the large speakers in the corner before looking back to Eddie, a large grin in place.

"God this sappy shit, I told Steve not to put this one on the tape, you must hate Toto".

Eddie shrugs again, glaring at the floor, wishing he could burn a hole into it that he could escape through. 

"He did play it…didn't he?" Robin asks quietly, a small trace of anxiety in her voice as she leans away from the counter.

Eddie stops himself from rolling his eyes; if he was being honest, the tape was a nice touch --really sold the whole prank, honestly.

He looks back up to find Robin staring at him, and sighs heavily, thrusting his hands in his pockets.

"Yeah," he huffs, taking a step back towards the front door, Robin's eyes follow his path in confusion, "I wasn't much of a fan of the choices".

"But it's fine right," Eddie scoffs, "he can use his little tape on someone his shit will actually work on next time".

"What?" Robin says incredulously, her face scrunches into a frown as Eddie laughs.

"You know Buckley, I'm surprised you were on board with this?" 

"Eddie, what the fuck are you talking about?" Robin hisses, shrill and loud, as she finally walks around the counter towards him.

"Oh don't give me that, he's your best friend, you're going to tell me he didn't tell you about his plan?" Eddie shakes his head as a high pitched laugh bubbles up out of his chest.

"I don't know what plan you're talking about Eddie," she says in a low voice, her eyes wide and angry, "the only thing Steve was going to do that night was tell you how he felt about you". 

"Yeah right, Steve Harrington, wants me? And that's not a fucking joke?"

She sucks her teeth, letting her eyes roam over his face, "this was such a mistake, okay, get out". 

Eddie sneers sharply, "a mistake?"

"Yeah, I never should have gotten his hopes up". 

Robin crosses to the window behind the counter and shuts off the second neon open sign before breezing past Eddie to pull the cord on the other sign, nearly hard enough to yank it down. 

No, no, no, no, it's not true, she's just saving face, she has to be…

Robin stands beside the door, a furious glare aimed at Eddie, "we're closed, get out, I need to go check on Steve". 

Unbelievable, Eddie does roll his eyes at this and heads towards her for the door, he takes the push bar in his hands and leans on it to swing the exit open before turning to Robin one last time, he wants so badly to have the last word it hurts.

"Better go check on King-Steve, I'm sure he's devastated," Eddie snarls, the furious fire from before burns bright in his chest as he watches Robin stiffen in the doorway.

"I haven't talked to him since Sunday Munson, until just now, I thought he was with you!"

Robin reaches out to grab both doors in her hands.

"Asshole," she scoffs, her eyes never leaving his as she locks the doors in his face. 

***

1980, Hawkins, Indiana

Eddie sniffles as he walks home, he can feel blood trickle down his chin from the split lip Paul gave him while his knee aches from where he hit the ground. 

He's not even sure what he did.

Paul had been so nice recently, talking with Eddie almost every day, eventually taking him under his wing. Paul was a year above Eddie at their Middle school, and when he had told Eddie to meet him under the bleachers after school, how could Eddie say no? 

It didn't help that Paul had soft blond hair, big hazel eyes that crinkled when he smiled, and the nicest laugh Eddie had ever heard.

What Eddie hadn't been expecting was Randy and David, also in Paul's grade, to be waiting for him. 

He breathes out a wet sob and keeps walking, scrubbing his face harshly as their trailer in Forest Hills comes into view, almost home.

Eddie reaches into his pocket and winces when he realizes his keys are gone, alongside his backpack.

They must have fallen out of his pocket in the scuffle.

The backpack was a different story.

He limps up the steps of their porch, wincing as the fabric of his jeans pulls at the drying blood on his knee, and knocks on the front door.

"Comin," Wayne calls from inside, "coming, wasn't expectin' anyone-- Ed?" 

Wayne's face goes through a series of expressions, from surprise, to anger, before settling on concern. 

He leans down and brings his hands up to Eddie's face, turning it gently to see the damage.

"Who did this," Wayne says quietly, he stands up to his full height, looking around the trailer park behind Eddie while tucking him closer.

"It was at school," Eddie sniffles again, his voice growing tight, "I'm okay". 

Wayne looks down at him for a moment before shaking his head and moving out of the door to pull Eddie inside.

"Hurt anywhere else?" Wayne asks as he walks Eddie to the kitchen, one arm around his shoulder as though afraid the fourteen year old will collapse at any moment.

"I fell, my knee hurts," Eddie mumbles as he sits at the kitchen table in the corner while Wayne crosses to the cabinets and busies himself with grabbing two clean wash clothes and peroxide from the cupboard above their stove.

It's quiet for a moment while Wayne wets one of the clothes at the sink and makes his way back to Eddie.

He kneels on the floor, balancing his weight on his good knee while the other remains bent at a more comfortable ninety degree angle. His joints creak slightly as he gets comfortable but he still smiles at Eddie all the same.

"Won't you be sore after this?" Eddie sighs, wishing Wayne would just let him go to the washroom now to clean himself up. 

"You let me worry about that," Wayne grumbles as he reaches up to wipe the blood and dirt from Eddie's face with the wet cloth. It's warm from the water and Wayne's gentle hand.

"So, you gonna tell me what happened?" Wayne asks softly, as he reaches for the bottle of peroxide and tips it into the second cloth. He tilts Eddie's face to dab gently at the now dirt free cuts.

Eddie sucks his teeth at the sting and closes his eyes.

He doesn't even know where to really start. 

Paul hadn't been the one to push him off his feet, that had been Randy, but that hadn't stopped Paul from laughing and calling Eddie a fairy. 

David had been the one to take his bag, dumping everything out into the dirt and ripping it until the zipper broke. 

Luckily all of his school books were still in his locker, but all of the campaign notes from his most recent D&D game had been in there, along with the worn copy of the Hobbit his mother had given him. 

All of it was still sitting in the mud and grass by the bleachers, stomped into the ground by David's white sneakers.

Eddie shrugs as Wayne leans back slightly. He takes Eddie's leg and slowly bends the knee at the joint, his eyes search Eddies for any sign of strain. The only sting comes from the way the jean material pulls at the drying blood from his scrapes.

Wayne breathes out and scrubs a hand over his tired face, his fingers catch on the grey stubble as they slide down and drop into Wayne's lap.

"I'll make an appointment on Monday with the principal," Wayne says as he stands up with a stifled groan, turning away from Eddie who shakes his head like a wet dog. 

"Wayne you can't--"

"Edward, what do you expect me to do? You come home lookin' like hell and you won't tell me what happened?" 

Eddie bites his split lip hard enough for the faint taste of copper to stain his tongue once more, how could he tell Wayne just what those boys had yelled at him as he sat in the dirt cradling his head, wishing he'd just gone home.

Wayne sighs loudly as he raises his face towards the ceiling, his lips move slightly but Eddie can't make out what he's saying before he looks back at Eddie, his expression worn.

"Okay, okay," Wayne murmurs, walking back towards Eddie, he pulls one of the other mismatched chairs towards himself and sits down, "I won't call, but you have to meet me halfway, alright?" 

Eddie hesitates, swallowing roughly, maybe there was a way to tell Wayne without telling him everything.

"There were some boys at school, um," Eddie picks at one of the holes in his blue jeans, pulling at the frayed thread absently, "I guess just, one at first but…".

His eyes burn suddenly as the words rip through him once again.

"He told me to come to the bleachers and then," Eddie's voice wobbles this time as his throat tightens, "there were more of them and they…called me--" 

Eddie shakes his head, ducking it down to hide his shining eyes, he doesn't notice Wayne coming closer until he feels a hand in his hair and the dam finally breaks.

Six years later, Eddie can still remember what his uncle told him that day as he cried in his arms.

"People can be cruel, especially when they don't understand, and sometimes that means being careful of who you open yourself up to. But you can tell me anything Ed, and I'll love ya no matter what. You always have home to come back to". 

Eddie knew people like Steve Harrington. He'd been around them his whole life. 

Sometimes they went by Paul, sometimes by Jason, or Billy.

But that didn't make them any less dangerous, any less capable of inflicting hurt on people that were different. 

So, Robin could say that Steve wasn't like that until she was blue in the face, because she was…wrong…

Wasn't she?

Taglist: @ihavekidneys @superchellerific @zerokrox-blog @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @croatoan-like-its-hot @messrs-weasley @samcoxramblings @warlordess @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @lostonceandneverfound @shunna @fairytalesreality

Part Three now up!

[queenie-ofthe-void]

A Desperate Fool - Part 6

Part 5

Last Time: Nancy starts filling in the gaps of everything Eddie's missed

~~~

Max, Lucas, and Erica were the first to quit calling. Hell, they’d always been more Steve’s than Eddie’s, since he’d adopted Max with the last of his parents’ trust money when he turned nineteen. After the kids graduated, Steve had set himself, Max, and Robin up in a cheap two bedroom apartment in Chicago where they all started school. Then Lucas moved in only a few months later– Max and Lucas in one room, Robin and Steve in the other. Only for Eddie to then uproot Steve to LA just before he could finish his degree, selfishly isolating him from his family.

Dustin was the next to disappear. They were close, and Eddie considered the kid one of his best friends. It apparently didn’t matter, which–just like with the other three–he should’ve seen coming. Steve was practically a brother to Dustin, same as Max. Eddie just always thought the split was more fifty-fifty with Dustin. It was a thick pill to swallow, but he managed.

He reached his final breaking point when Nancy and Mike started ignoring him. Eddie could make excuses for the rest of them, they were Steve’s adopted, puzzle-piece family. The Wheeler’s were Eddie’s family by blood. 

His parents kicked him out for kissing the neighbor boy– well, his adopted parents. Turns out Karen Wheeler had put him up for adoption three years before she met Ted, but was too scared to reach out, hoping he was happy with his new family. When little twelve year old Eddie showed up with a social worker at her door the next day, however, Karen welcomed him with open arms. He figures he’d be dead if it wasn’t for them, caught up running petty crimes just like his dad.

But that all meant Mike and Nancy were supposed to love him, not Steve. He called non-stop once he’d finally understood what was happening, but they never answered. Eddie remembers lying in bed for days, ruminating on how they’d picked golden boy Steve Harrington over their own family. Old feelings of neglect and rejection curdled up in Eddie’s stomach. A reminder that he was just a burden. Some lost, broken, queer kid they never asked for, forced onto them when Karen and Ted already had three mouths to feed.

Eddie's resentment towards everyone carried the band through their first national tour. He wanted to kick-off on a festival tour in Europe once they finished, but the band was exhausted. They were desperate to take a break while Metal Munson was still riding on top of the world, a full-fledged rockstar getting invites to behind-the-scenes parties, walking the red carpet, and casually dating celebrities. 

But he still loved his Corroded boys, so he agreed, thinking the break would allow them time to recover and give him more time to reap the benefits of a rockstar lifestyle. 

Except staying out every night started to lose its shine. The parties were duller than he remembered, the lights less bright. Mindless flirting with boys only interested in Metal Munson strained his smile. Strange, strong hands started to feel like sandpaper across his bare skin, the tangled sheets between them constricting Eddie until he couldn’t breathe. 

It all came crashing down when he woke up in an unfamiliar bed next to a man with fluffy brown hair, moles scattered across his back. Brilliant, sky blue eyes staring back at him.

Eddie quit going out. Stopped answering phone calls– not that the calls came from anyone who actually mattered. 

Because Steve never called. Not once, still hasn’t. And Eddie doesn't think he ever will.

~~~

Part 7

Tag List!!!

@sadisticaltarts @5ammi90 @blacklegsanji21 @jaytriesstrangerthings

@thewickedkat you didn't actually asked to be added to the tags, but I included you bc of your comment on the last part. If you'd like to not be included next time just lmk <3

[gcslingss]

He's so fucking perfect I wanna eat him

[grndz3r000]

'We keep this love in a photograph.'

""We keep this love in this photograph""

"Lets take a pic! You knoooww so we can keep it in our pockets and bring it everywhere!" Satoru happily took out a camera to take a picture of you two on your date. It was perfect. He was perfect.

"We can match!" You replied with a gentle smile. Satoru's eyes lit up even brighter, like how a child's eyes light up at the sight of candy. Oh, he loved you so much.

""We made these memories for ourselves""

Ever since then, Satoru had taken a pic of the both of you on every date. Marking each time you two go out. Marking his favorite memories. He won't ever forget any of your dates now.

And you will never forget him.

"Where our eyes are never closing"

It isn't fair, isn't it? He's the strongest. You knew that. But even the strongest people have weaknesses, dont they? It's just not fair. You were finally happy. Happy and in love. With Satoru. God worked in weird ways. There must be a reason why He took Satoru away from you. You just didn't understand why. And you never will.

""Hearts were never broken""

You sobbed, looking back at those pictures. You're glad he took those pictures. Now you have something to look back on. Something to remind you of the best five years of your life.

""And time's forever frozen, still""

______________________________________________

IM SORRY OKAY I GOT INSPO N I WANTED TO WRITE OKAY I'LL WRITE FLUFF SOON I SWEAR

Tagged: @vm2859

STARZU WORKS. DO NOT COPY, REPOST, OR PLAGIARIZE MY WORK

[strawglicks]

u mean to tell me graham is SO insecure he cant handle having ANY imperfections or flaws and HAS to be on top or else he completely loses all mental stability

AND overworks himself to the point of PASSING OUT FROM EXHAUSTION after battling the toons because hes so desperate to win

AND is so invested in hustle culture that he disregards his physical/mental health and bases a lot of his self-worth on being the best employee

AND has burnt himself out as a result (based on his disciplinary records)

YET THERES AN INSANE LACK OF GRAHAM ANGST IN THE COMMUNITY?

[stinkypeanutbutter]

as a big Aidlyn shipper ( you guys know this . )

we must . . . . MUST !!!!! . . .

pay attention to the others more as well . MORE ANGST !! MORE SILLY MOMENTS !!! GIVE THEM ALL THE ATTENTION THEY DESERVE !!!!!!!

[lady-hibiscus]

no entity short of God can miracle away the effects of Holy Water on fallen angels.

but damn it all if aziraphale doesn't try anyway.

previous <- good omens torture series pt. 11 -> next

[ghostdrinkssoup]

thinking about how abigail only has one real double in the show. sure she has the other dead girls, but they’re just copies of her. fakes. they weren’t real in the eyes of her father. they’re so hollow we don’t know anything about them other than their likeness to abigail, and abigail foils no one else. except one other girl: mischa. hannibal’s golden ticket. the only girl that really matters. the girl will has to chase the ghost of because he desperately wants to understand hannibal, and he knows this is the only way he can, so he visits his ancestral home and finds chiyoh. because ultimately abigail wasn’t the girl all the other girls were mirroring, at least not from a narrative point of view. to hannibal, her new father, she was just another copy of a girl who died a long time ago and could never really replace