#everything changes as in you and your family and friends and coworkers grow every day

[marsgalaxias]

I lead a very interesting and eventful life, and frequently my friends have joked I live in a sitcom, and I honestly don't think I've done anything other than take advantage of my opportunities. my mindset can pretty much be summed up as, "nothing matters, but everything matters, and nothing changes, but everything changes!" like it's literally just about putting things in perspective for your happiness. you do you, bro.

[v3ry-cherry]

gym geto who caught your eye for a moment right after you left the locker room. with the accompany of your friend and in the middle of conversation, you were heading to a scheduled workout in group. he noticed that you two are probably new here because even if he usually didn’t pay much attention to people around him, he was able to recognize some faces. you two made an eye contact for a second because of your little giggle decorated with a bright smile that caught his attention. you, on the other hand, couldn’t miss his sharp features, well shaped muscles and that intense, intriguing gaze

gym geto who almost always wears black. usually there are black shorts, black tank tops and occasionally loose white shirt presenting on his body. he usually keeps his hair in a high bun but sometimes lets it fall freely over his shoulders, especially at the end of his workout when he heads to the locker room. most of the time he also has an earphones with his own playlists prepared for workout

gym geto who starts to remember you because of your admirable face and the slightest tracks of smile. you still bring your friend and talk a lot between excersies so you often have that blissful expression on your face and melodious laughter during conversations that makes him turn his head in your direction every time he hears you

gym geto who start to find adorable everything you’re doing. whether it’s setting up some machines in the gym, exercise on them or doing something on you phone during breaks. he would also notice your progress, growing confidence, softly showing up muscles and changes in your wardrobe choices

gym geto who wouldn’t know how to approach you since he started to think that he really wants to do this. it accidentally happens when you couldn’t move something in the machine and it seemed to be broken so he just went over and tried something that turned out to work. when you exchanged a few words and you thanked him, he walked away satisfied with a big smile and completely squinted eyes because everything went exactly like he imagined

gym geto who was glad you started to greet each other from that day and got into short conversations and little jokes from time to time. he also became the person you turned to most for help or for some random discussions regarding training techniques when you were without your friend

gym geto who once met you at the exit of the building after the workout and it was the first time you talked to each other. during all the way back home you had the opportunity to learn a little more about each other. then he walked you to the bus stop and stood there until you got on the right bus and drove away safely

gym geto with which returns from the gym became an absolute standard and during one of them he finally asked you for your phone number and that's how you started chatting

gym geto who couldn't stop thinking about you. who, even though you haven't gone out on any official date yourself, started to find himself wanting to introduce you to his family, friends and even his coworkers. who dreamed of you two going to the gym together and acting like a couple because you're so wonderful that he just wanted to share you with his little world     

(maybe a little nsfw part 2 soon what do ya think)

masterlist

[multiplicity-positivity]

Hello, I'm here to ask for some advice! I've been the system host for as long as we've had a system, but we - me included - have recently begun thinking it's time for someone else to take over the role. So, I have three questions: 1. What are some good traits for a prospective host to have? What should we be looking for? 2. Do you have any advice for dealing with front-stickiness? 3. On a more personal note... I'm kind of struggling with this. It feels like I've served my purpose and that I'm not needed in the system anymore. Any advice for a nervous soon-to-be ex-host? I'm sorry this is a lot of questions, and it's totally fine if you can't answer this, but I thought I'd ask. Thank you so much for all the work you do!

Hi! We’re not quite sure how to help headmates switch roles, as our system doesn’t function that way and we’ve never been able to consciously choose to swap, take on, or give up a certain role! And when it comes to system hosts, they come in all shapes and sizes! No two systems are alike, and no two systems will have exactly the same needs when it comes to their roles and how to go about fulfilling them.

All that being said, for any system, a host probably will need to:

- Be okay with fronting for extended periods of time.

- Have a basic understanding of their system’s obligations (school/work/chores/etc.)

- Have a basic understanding of their system’s body maintenance and care

- Be willing to interact and maintain relationships with friends, family, classmates, coworkers, and other people in their system’s life

Other than that, we can’t think of much that would apply to every system - sorry about that! For any host, doing their best is everything we could ask for!

On dealing with and overcoming front-stickiness, we’ll happily link this post by @rin-and-jade that covers this topic!

We will say that in our own system, our host is incapable of fully leaving the front at will. This is just the way our system functions! He has not been able to leave the front for longer than a couple days ever since he formed over 10 years ago. And there are many other systems who function in this way! So please don’t be too hard on yourself if you’re not ever able to reach a point where you’re no longer frontstuck! For many systems, this is just how we function and isn’t something that can easily be adjusted or changed.

Finally, some words for you as a soon to be ex-host:

It’s okay to just exist as a member of your system without a solid, well-defined role! You don’t have to have a role in order to be a cherished member of and a valued asset for your system. Just because you will no longer be host does NOT mean that you have no purpose in your system! You can still be a friend, a helper, a guide, a caretaker. You can bring joy to your headmates, help them problem solve, collaborate, bond, and grow together.

Our roles do not define us and they do not determine our worth! In any system, each headmate is an important and treasured member, whether or not they are actively contributing to their system’s overall health, safety, and well-being. It’s okay to allow yourself to just exist as you are! Being yourself is a really important part of being a member of your system - as long as you’re doing that you are still making a vital contribution, even if you’re no longer host!

We hope this helps! We’re wishing you and your system all the very best, and hope that this upcoming transition goes smoothly for you!

[octuscle]

hi! i'm the spandex guy! so i want to thank you for what you did, this body is amazing can't stop checking myself out ahah

Also, sometimes it feels weird but wearing spandex almost always feels so good, man, I love that it shows my muscles and seeing the bulge print is so hot, lol

I've only one problem now, my friends and ex-coworkers are a bit weirded out by my new lifestyle and by the fact that i barely wear anything other than tight gear, but i can't make the Reality Adjuster option in the chronivac, probavly because the cange already happened. Could you do something so they are more ok with all of this? it's starting to bother me. Thank you in advance, man!

Hi mate, glad to hear you like your new body and gear. And don't let the buffers get you angry. Idiots who are jealous of your body are everywhere. In fact, the existing scenario cannot be changed because it is finished. We could set up a new scenario that only changes the attitude of your environment. But I would find that boring. Here's the suggestion: I'll just follow you for a few days. I leave your account open. And if someone comes to you stupidly, I will intervene.

Okay, that was fast. I wouldn't have thought that your neighbor hisses "perverted faggot" in front of the elevator in the morning. Just ignore him. I'll adjust a few things. Actually a pretty hot lad, your neighbor. But with a little less body fat, a few more muscles and the right clothes… Fits!

I'm pretty sure he won't call you names anymore. Maybe when you get home later, you'll put some beers on ice. I imagine you'll have a visitor.

The next day, lunch with an old school friend. You've had an exhausting morning, your spandex outfit is soaking wet and reeks of sweat. Your friend asks you anxiously if everything is okay. Or if you need help. But only at first. His looks slowly become more lustful and his clothes tighter. He asks questions about what other gear you have. And whether you would like to exchange something. His bulge in his motorcycle suit grows. And yours in your cycling shorts too. Your friend says that he has to go now. But that he expects you in half an hour. And sends the address of a demolition house around the corner.

This weekend you stand at the harbor as a Spiderman statue and collect money. When a former colleague comes by. Laughs at you and says that he has already heard that you are a broken loser. When he turns around, he's in a skin-tight black cycling outfit. Every roll of flab is grotesquely emphasized. Actually, I should let the asshole go home just like that. But I'm doing you a favor. In a moment everyone will see that at least between your legs you are not a Spiderman statue but flesh and blood. And I'll let your ex-colleague turn around. And he starts to work on his bulge. Obviously he has no problem with public display anymore. The moment he jerks off into his bike shorts, the police come to take him away for causing a public nuisance.

I hope you already notice how much more relaxed it gets around you. Difficult is of course still the dear relatives. Your parents have no problem with you. Your older brother does. He has always thought of himself as the alpha brother. He can continue to be. But at the next family reunion you don't have to worry about him anymore.

If someone should come to you in the near future still badly, let me know that. I am always close to you.

[hippolotamus]

Every year I have this idea that I'm going to plan this out and write something profound. But it really just comes down to a few things, doesn't it?

❤️ There is no timeline (or requirement!) for coming out. Some people shout it from the rooftops immediately and some people keep it as their business forever. Both are valid and correct.

Ask yourself: Do I want to? Do I feel safe to do so? Do I have a plan if it all goes sideways?

🧡 Perhaps the most important point: nobody, and I mean NOBODY, gets to make that decision for you. That choice is yours and yours alone. Family, friends, partners, coworkers, teachers should never pressure you to come out.

💛 There is no timeline for “figuring it out”. Some folks just know and others figure it out later. Neither one is wrong. There’s zero shame in learning your sexuality in your 30s, 50s, hell even your 80s. The only “correct” time is when you say so.

💚 That being said… it can change! And that’s perfectly fine. No one would blink an eye because one day you declare you now like brownies instead of chocolate chip cookies. Or both. You learn more about yourself, you grow, you make more informed decisions. It’s all a process.

💙 Labels not required. Am I Gay/Lesbian? Bi? Queer? Aro? Whatever you decide, and are comfortable with, is a-ok. Even if that means no label at all. First and foremost you’re you. Not your preferences.

💜 A Special Lil note for the allies and supporters and others: This goes for anyone, but particularly those who didn’t figure things out (or feel like they could be open about it) until later. I say this as something of a late bloomer myself. Crying over Heartstopper? Suddenly adding all kinda rainbow merch to their house/vehicle/wardrobe? Going to Pride events? Making or sharing more pointed social media posts?

Yeah, they figured out they’re [insert label here]. Great, good for them but you’re sooooo over it. They’re X years old, why do all this now??? Like chill already.

Nope. You chill. Some of us are legit getting to experience this side of ourselves for the first time ever. And sometimes that is decades in the making. We’re unpacking a lot. So please hold your shaming and judgement. If it’s not hurting you or anyone else, for the love of everything just let them have this.

🩷 Resources! 🩵

The Trevor Project - thetrevorproject.org (Bonus: they have a Quick Exit feature built into their site for desktop or mobile in case you need to get out of their site pronto)

suicide.org - resources for US and International suicide hotlines http://suicide.org/suicide-hotlines.html http://suicide.org/international-suicide-hotlines.html

GLAAD- glaad.org

OK2BME - https://ok2bme.ca/

PFLAG - pflag.org

[radfemgirlmom]

Imagine Jane, a vibrant woman with dreams of a fulfilling career and a family. She meets John, charming and seemingly supportive. They marry, and during her pregnancy, John persuades Jane to become a stay-at-home mom, arguing it's best for their child. Have you ever met someone like Jane?

With Jane now financially dependent on John, the control starts subtly. He manages all finances, giving her an "allowance" which he reduces over time. Can you imagine what it's like to have your own earnings controlled by another? John's substance abuse begins to surface; alcohol, initially a social habit, becomes his escape from the pressures he feels. His behavior shifts from caring to controlling. His inhibitions disappear entirely while under the influence of alcohol. When he blacks out, Jane is left to remember everything.

Jane's world narrows. She has no coworkers and no income. John isolates her from friends and family because he "doesn't like them". He monitors her phone calls, her emails, her whereabouts. He can even take away her ability to drive because he is the one paying for it. He protests her desire for a job because he knows that Jane being unemployed is conducive to his control. Yet, with a single-income household, bills go unpaid, utilities shut off, and it serves to add more fuel to the fire. Stressors continue to build, and John becomes progressively more unhinged.

The abuse escalates. Verbal attacks turn physical, yet after each incident, John's remorse is profound. He promises change, uses their child as leverage, saying, "Do you want our child to grow up without a father?" Jane, fearing for her child's future, stays. All Jane wanted was a family, and she fears the prospect of starting over without one. What would you do if your child's welfare was used to manipulate you?

John, never having been arrested, has legal access to firearms. This fact alone escalates the danger Jane faces daily. Domestic violence paired with firearms increases the risk of intimate partner homicide dramatically. Research shows that an average of three women are killed by a current or former partner every day, with more than half of these homicides involving firearms. This statistic is not just a number; it's a stark reminder of the lethal potential John's unchecked access to guns represents. Jane lives each day in fight-or-flight, taking a toll on her physical and mental health.

Their child, caught in this violent environment, exhibits signs of distress. Studies indicate some children in such homes often show behavioral problems, lower social competence, and academic struggles, which may potentiate the stress for that child even more. This child, like many others, might grow up fearing violence is normal. With John's alcohol problem, it is clear that in homes of domestic violence victimization, there may be more than just violence occurring. On top of regular stressors all children may experience, there are multitudes of conditions that are inappropriate for children, except a young child has no way of leaving on their own accord.

Leaving was not an option for Jane, not easily. The economic coercion, emotional manipulation, and the lack of immediate resources made escape daunting. It is common for abusers often control finances to prevent victims from leaving, and this leaves stay-at-home-parents particularly vulnerable. Even if Jane DID leave, where could she find work, if she has no job experience? Where could she find housing, if she has no money? Have you ever thought about why someone in such a situation might choose to stay?

One day, after another violent episode, Jane realizes the gravity of their situation. She seeks help, guided by stories of courage from advocates in shelters, where women like her find refuge. These shelters are often the first safe haven for victims, providing not just shelter but legal support, counseling, and a pathway to independence. Jane's shelter protected her from her abuser, provided job and housing assistance resources, as well as therapy for Jane and her child.

What would have happened to Jane if she found herself unable to secure a spot in a shelter? On a single day in 2023, there were nearly 14,000 unmet requests for services at domestic violence shelters and support centers, with over half of these being for some type of housing or shelter. These numbers aren't just statistics; they represent people like Jane, who could be left with no safe place to go. Her story underscores the dire need for more resources to meet the overwhelming demand for safe havens—resources that have offered Jane not just safety, but also a chance to rebuild her life.

This is where we, the community, come in. Awareness is not just about recognition; it's about action. Have you ever met somebody who was abused? You may have, but more often than not, their stories are only told under the roof of a shelter or healthcare provider, once they leave the home.

Increasing awareness involves education, advocacy, and funding. Programs need resources to expand their reach, to provide safe havens, legal aid, and recovery services. Every dollar counts, every conversation matters.

[bsideminibang]

Masterlist

And that's a wrap! Many, many thanks to all the amazing authors, artists and betas who worked on this year's bang!

Below the cut are all the pieces that were submitted this year, so now's the time to check them out!

You're Fucking Perfect (To Me) by TwinOne with art from nickelkeep (8600 words, T)

Every Thursday Castiel visits Sam’s house, they share a glass or two of good whiskey and a bit of conversation like they’ve done for years. Everything changes the day he smells a new and intriguing scent as soon as he steps inside his friend’s house.

It’s the scent of an omega. Not just any omega, but his true mate.

A story told using the lyrics of the song Fucking Perfect by P!nk as prompts for each chapter.

You Can Keep Your Hat On by Redamber79 with art from PetraAmia (5444 words, E)

When a staff party with Cas' coworkers and boss gets too uncomfortable with unwanted advances on both of them, Dean and Cas ditch the party to go back to their place and celebrate on their own, starting with Dean performing a strip tease for Cas, and ending up in their bedroom.

Steve? Really...Steve? by Hectatess with art from Acaademicqueer (7625 words, M)

When Castiel wanders the empty streets out for revenge, he gets kidnapped. By the Law, no less. Had he been breaking the law so badly? And will he get that revenge?

When FBI-agents Sam and Dean are on an undercover job, they see the spitting image of one of the murdered victims in the case, walking, talking and… committing misdemeanours? Who is this guy, claiming to be Steve Milton? And can he really help them crack this case wide open?

Nice Like by MBQ with art from sidewinder (13700 words, E)

Dean and Benny search for Castiel in Purgatory, but the trio is rife with tensions when they finally "catch up" with the wayward angel.

Inspired by Lord Huron's, Meet Me in the Woods.

Play It Pretty For the World by cactusdragon517 with art from PetraAmaia (10805 words, E)

It's an old story, in the end: Boy meets boy. Boy falls in love. Happily ever after. But how they get there is a different story altogether (after all, what can you expect from rockstars?)

Family Business is in need of a new guitarist and lucky for them, session musician Castiel Novak is available. Guitar in hand and a bag over his shoulder, Castiel arrives in LA with Family Business on the brink of making it big.

Internally, however, is a bit more complex. Dean Winchester, lead singer and older brother, has found himself navigating his brother's growing addiction and their band's impending success.

After tours and traveling the world, they go their separate ways.

Can Dean and Castiel find their way back to each other?

Love From the Other Side by LadyKnightSkye with art from Dmitrievans (9245 words, T)

When Zachariah sends Dean forward into the world after the Apocalypse, instead of running into the National Guard, he runs into a person he thinks is his brother. In relief, he hugs “Sam.” This one choice of affection instead of aggression sets off a chain of events that ripples out from both sides of the Apocalypse.

Only Physical by nickelkeep with art from PetraAmia (4470 words, E)

Cas and Dean have been best friends for as long as Cas can remember. He's always wanted more, and when he and Dean slip into the friends-with-benefits category, he knew he could be satisfied with that. Until he wasn't.

Art for the bang by Rapscallion

I Had Some Time (With You) by songliili with art from Keikakudom (23970 words, E)

It’s 2005 when things go to hell.

Well. They go to hell for everyone except Dean, ‘cause he was ready for it.

Well. He was ready for the apocalypse, not for the gorgeous man who fell into his life, quite literally.

OR

A Destiel rewrite of Bill and Frank’s love story as shown on HBO’s The Last of Us episode 3: Long Long Time that uses elements of both universes.

Unraveling Unrolled by bleuzombie with art from golby-moon (3134 words, M)

A parent’s love should be unconditional. Coming out as trans has really put John’s love to the test.

[kinderdays]

full name: maxym oliver valentine // status: deceased

people smile and tell me i'm the lucky one

your birth is bittersweet.  a beautiful healthy baby is born into a terribly ugly world, but your mother does not survive.  from your very first day it’s just you and your father.  he’s a capable man, he grew up hunting and camping.  he teaches you everything he knows.  he shows you how to survive off of the land, how to use nothing but your senses.  you grow up loved but lonely.  your father isn’t a trusting man and all he wants to do is keep you safe.  so you bounce from place to place, you never stay for too long.  you don’t make connections, you don’t grow roots.  all you have is each other.  

one day you make camp.  you’ve done it a thousand times, you know what to do.  but something is wrong.  your father wakes you up in a frenzy, you have to move.  there are runners, two of them.  perhaps they were once a couple.  it doesn’t matter now, all that matters is now they’re after you.  your father fights them off, he protects you.  you make it out.  you’ve lost some of your supplies  but you’ve made it out, everything is okay.  then your father stops you.  he has a bite on his arm.  he looks at you, he wraps his hands around your face and wipes away your tears.  he gives you his knife and his pack and he tells you to run.  you don’t want to leave him, he’s all you’ve ever known.  he doesn’t take no for an answer.  your tired legs carry you into the unknown.  you’re sixteen.

i'm so in love with you, honey

a lost boy.  for a while you wander scared, helpless.  you use the skills your father taught you to survive in the wilderness by yourself.  but soon you find a community.  it’s strange, having a room to call your own.  a part of you likes it, likes having a bit of consistency.  you become a soldier and it gives you a purpose.  you make a few friends, they help with the grief.  despite the horrors you’ve seen, you have the miraculous ability to remain an optimist.  there is a young girl who works in the infirmary, she patches you up a few times.  you’ve always been clumsy.  she’s kind, beautiful, brilliant, and you find yourself wanting nothing more than to make her smile.

one day you’re working on a lookout.  it’s a day like any other, you joke with your coworkers, you mess around a bit too much.  you make a wrong move and you tumble feet below.  you’ve always been clumsy, but this time the result is a fractured leg and bruised ribs.  your supervisor, an old friend, sends you to the hotel med bay.  a favor in kind, she knows a certain gentle nurse with golden hair works there.  in the weeks it takes you to recover she sits at your bedside.  she reads you her favorite books.  you learn the missing pieces of the fractured fairy tales your father tried to tell you growing up.  in return you entertain her with stories of the outside world.  you live every day for her.  when you’re healed, there isn’t a single piece of you that wants to leave.  you start missing a few shifts, your leg is still sore and you much prefer helping out around the infirmary.  

now i see a family where there once was none

when the new year comes, so does a new surprise.  a baby.  you hadn’t planned it and you’re scared out of your mind.  the very thing that killed your mother could now take the life of the person who means most to you in the world.  she reassures you everything will be alright.  her mother has helped others in the zone through the process- you both are in good hands.  the thought of having a family- putting down roots for the first time in your life, it’s exciting.  you’ve never had a that before.  you live at her home more than your own.  you eat meals together, you take care of each other.  you’re happy.

but your negligence catches up to you.  a punishment is brought forth, your patrol has changed.  now you have an outside route.  you work double shifts every day.  you come home ragged and barely get enough sleep to refresh for the morning.  she tries to take care of you, she tries to keep you fed and warm, but it’s not enough.  you only get weaker.   one day, when your back is turned, it's all over.

in the end, perhaps you’ll always be a lost boy.  the boy who will never grow up.  you leave behind your golden-haired nurse and your unborn child.  she feels lost without you.  for awhile, her mind is not her own.  she misses work, she lays in bed.  her nightmares return, in the night she calls for you but you can’t reach her.  but it’s alright, she has her mother, her brother.  they save her.  you know she’ll be okay, she was always the strong one.  

playlist –– danny’s song by loggins & messina // rose colored boy by paramore // strange magic by electric light orchestra // yellow by coldplay // teenage dream by stephen dawes // beautiful boy by john lennon // paper rings by taylor swift

character parallels –– jack dawson (titanic), peter parker (spider-man)

[jumbleverse]

doing this because fun. gonna use a recent character I've been thinking about and making more lore for.

long uh, everything, so feel free to skip if you don't like reading a lot of words and stuff.

1: average. a bit standoffish but otherwise decent. probably a lot more tame and level-headed than she is now.

2: more of a protective mom friend.

3: soldier.

4: o boi that's a lot to write. um, writing from her perspective because it'll make it easier for me.

4i: family.

4ii: yes; I need to provide some entertainment for myself and my sister.

4iii: rehearsing is boring and takes up too much time.

4iv: training people and priming them just right so they're perfect for my sister. although, a small fight every few days wouldn't be too bad...

4v: I don't sing. I only sang once during karaoke with my family and got really embarrassed about it. never again...

4vi: oh please, this is too easy; I'll take body over mind any day. it is important for my job.

4vii: no.

4viii: I don't have partners. I have trainees.

4ix: my family. they're awesome.

4x: eh, I don't know. I was raised pretty well, so there's not much I'd change.

4xi: again, no partner. my life story isn't all that great anyways. all I really do anyways is [hi, me here. I'm not really comfortable putting what she does for work because reasons. I'm sure you can figure it out yourself though, so good luck].

4xii: more speed. faster movement means faster protection. I don't want anything happening to my family.

4xiii: if I protect my family. if I find out I couldn't save any one of them, I don't know what I would do with myself...

4xiv: I like to live in the present. it's where all the fun is happening! dreams are for dreamers — I'm a doer.

4xv: getting my job and making my family even bigger.

4xvi: I don't do friends; I do family.

4xvii: I'd have to say... growing up with my sister.

4xviii: drinking Wild's drink. ugh, that was a terrible taste...

4xix: I'd like to spend more time with my family. I'd also prepare my sister for when I'm gone so that she won't have to figure everything out herself.

4xx: friendship doesn't mean shit to me. you're either my family, or you're not.

4xxi: I love my family. there's hardly anything I wouldn't do to keep them safe.

4xxii: no partner.

4xxiii: I had a decent childhood. my parents kind of left when I became an adult, but we're still on good terms. we don't talk much anymore, but they're fine. my sister and coworkers, though, we're closer than anyone in the whole everywhere. you couldn't pry us apart no matter what you did!

4xxiv: my mom was pretty cool. she was nice and sweet. made the best cookies ever, too.

4xxv: ...not sure what this means...

4xvi: no. I'm not saying that.

4xxvii: no partner, no friends. just me and my family. and they already know enough about me to know who I am, so we're cool.

4xxviii: I'm getting tired of these "partner" questions...

4xxix: don't have a partner.

4xxx: I don't think I've ever cried.

4xxxi: I don't. have. a partner.

4xxxii: death. I don't joke about that. anyone who does has never felt it in their life.

4xxxiii: I guess... I'd regret not being able to spend more time with my family.

4xxxiv: I have a very special [hi, me again. redacting info because reasons] that one of my chosen family members game me a long time ago. I never saw her again, but it reminds me of her. somehow, I still hope that I'll see her again.

4xxxv: disturbing... hmm... well, there's ara, who would probably be the most emotionally disturbing, considering how nice and friendly she is. on the other side, there's kindred. she's probably the most powerful person I've worked with, so if I saw her dead, it'd be a gruesome sight... very disturbing. heh, she'd probably still have that wild look in her eyes and a smile on her face, if there'd be anything left of it.

4xxxvi: again, and for the last time, I don't have a partner. keep it up and I'll personally break your legs with mine.

(oh boy, so much writing. sorry about that).

5: she don't have trauma.

6: music: kinda. art: yes (but not the full scope). fashion: no. drinks: no.

7: she's more of a "I'll die if it means protecting my family 'till the end."

8: platonic love: 10 — she loves her coworkers/family. romantic love: 0 — she doesn't really do that sort of thing.

9: it'll be a really tough choice to let them go, but ultimately she'll do what she believes is best for her family.

10: her family (aka sister and coworkers she holds dear).

11: she doesn't do romance.

12: vaporwave, rock, and a little bit of heavy metal when she wants to de-stress.

13: scene: dangerous people break into her place of work and demand whatever (idk this story isn't about the robbers). she'd be the second one to attack the criminals (the first would be kindred, but that's a different character for a different time). her sister would join in soon after, and she and her sister would work together alongside kindred and other security personnel to help get rid of the criminals, using her enhanced legs to kick ass and break bodies with ease as she ferociously defends her home and her family. (I hope this is a good enough answer, otherwise I'd have to add another 500 words or something to detail everything she'd do before during and after).

14: she doesn't trust others easily. she's very weary and always assume there's ulterior motives behind every action.

15: anything's game.

16: black cat, easily.

17: she'd probably feel a bit worried and try to cheer me up (if she trusted me). ultimately she'd probably take me back to her "residence" and try to help me sort some stuff out.

18: survive: fantasy, dystopian, futuristic, medieval, forest. die: war (sacrificing to protect family), island.

19: parents are fine, but they don't talk anymore. she feels like this is the perfect gen to be born, because there's so much fun to be had.

20: that no harm would befall her family.

21: she hasn't really had a romantic kiss before, but if she did her entire world would be shaken to its core. butterflies in her stomach and wooziness and knees buckling and everything.

22: lots of training/prepping people to her liking, lots of time with her family at work, and maybe a little fight to help keep her stimulated.

23: if she fucks up, she'd sit with herself and marinate in her emotions and thoughts for a long time. if she doesn't sort it out herself, she'd go see either mythic or ara (some of her work family) to help her sort her emotions out.

How to get to know your characters better?

(feel free to add your own thoughts to this list, hope it helps!) req by @miricalebabyy44 <3

what will your character be like if they were in your shoes?

is your oc the mom friend or the dad or the childish one in their friendgroup ?

do those "poet, king, soldier" quiz for your oc. im being fr

do the "36 questions to fall in love" quiz as your oc.

ik your ocs trauma have an impact on their character, but how would they be like, if they hadn't gone through that experience?

does your oc have similar tastes as you do? (music, art, fashion, coffee/tea etctetc)

will they "i only live once so I'll do it for the plot." or will they "i only live once ffs, i don't wanna die." ?

what is your ocs opinion of love? how is/was their love life on a scale of 1-10?

will your oc let go of someone precious to them when they know they're putting them at danger?

around whom does your oc lets their guard down?

are they romantically constipated or a hopeless romantic?

what type of music does ur oc like?

write a lot about your oc if you're struggling to get to know them. find a drabble prompt, and write what they'd do.

do they trust others easily or do they get trusted by others easily?

what is something your oc will never talk to anyone about? (their answer can be deep, like some emo trauma or like smthng like back when they shit their pants or smthng yk)

do they give off golden retriever energy, or a black cat energy? (or both?)

what will THEIR opinion be on YOUR current life? will they be ur friend? will they trust you?

will your oc survive in a fantasy setting, a war setting, a dystopian setting, a futuristic setting, a medieval setting? will ur oc survive after getting stranded on an island, or a forest?

does your oc like their parents, do they like how their life is, do they feel like they're born in the right gen?

if they are ever to get one wish definitely granted, what would they wish for?

how did they react to their first kiss? (if they have had it by now lmao)

what's an ideal day for your oc?

lastly, who does your oc go to when they've fucked up?

[beantrust-coffeebar]

From a Bean to Belonging: How Erik Modahl Cultivates Community at Beantrust Coffeebar

When you enter 151 ½ Hale Street in Beverly, MA, you are greeted by the warm scents of coffee beans and a variety of fresh sweet, and savory pastries. You will also be welcomed by Erik Modahl, the founder and owner of Beantrust Coffeebar. Beantrust, however, was originally not a physical storefront. Prior to 2020, Erik spent about five years traveling the Boston area with his coffee creations. From civil discourse in the workplace to coworking spaces for entrepreneurs, coffee was helping people make meaningful connections in unexpected places.

This true human connection was evident as I sat at Beantrust Coffeebar on the morning of their four-year anniversary of opening the storefront. From introducing customers to one another, giving the dogs that walk by treats, and sending vats of cold brew off to a local school event; everyone leaves Beantrust and their interactions with Erik with a smile, hug, and sometimes even a free pastry. A friend of Erik’s named Bradford, who started playing “All Out Of Love” on his acoustic guitar when he saw my Air Supply shirt, said that Erik, “walks it and he talks it” when it comes to connecting with others. When Erik was talking to a young family with three children who were all greatly enjoying their chocolate croissants, the mother said, “You are changing the world by doing this.” Erik’s passion in life is clear in everything he does and it is greatly appreciated in these customers. Looking back on Beantrust in this interview, Erik shares everything from his morning coffee order to his favorite memories cultivating community. 

What is your go-to coffee order?

Well, right now I ordered a latte. Oftentimes I do a pour-over. When I'm going to a nice coffee bar, I often order a cortado. I like the flavor of coffee and I look at different nuances. Sometimes it goes funky and candy-like in taste, and sometimes my go-to is the Ethiopian, which is fruity and light roasted. I'll do that on a pour-over every morning, that's my huge go-to to anchor me for my day.

How did you come up with the idea for Beantrust?

Beantrust came out of many years of a distribution company. I really believe in my heart that there's a want for community building. After helping an organization grow very large, I decided to step out and do something that's a bit revolutionary and has a mission for cultivating community. That's where Beantrust was born in October of 2015. I set up these little pour-over bars where people could meet and greet from all over the world, and I could see it happening and I wasn't facilitating it. It actually had the ripple effect of building community, and it made me so happy inside that people were coming together. My real passion for life is that we all love each other more, and I could just see this in a very natural, organic way. 

When did Beantrust Coffeebar’s storefront open?

The coffee bar started in 2020. The distribution business and event business was in 2016. It grew to about 80 accounts or so. Then in 2020, I thought it would be time to have a brick-and-mortar and open up the coffee bar. found this little cute place. It felt like it resonated with the community and with what I was all about, bringing people together.

What was it like opening in the midst of a pandemic?

It was crazy. I bought the building on March 3rd and on March 13th pandemic happened. I pivoted online and went around to different communities and sold coffee. I went into Boston, Cambridge, and Somerville; bringing beans and cold brew around. I often brought my clarinet around playing Happy Birthday and crazy things like that. Then I felt like, okay, six months into the pandemic, it's time to open. We opened four years ago, in October of 2020, and it felt like I didn't know quite what I was doing, but it was just time to open.

What is your favorite part of running Beantrust?

My favorite part is this is connecting with the people and talking and having conversations and friendships.

When did you come up with the phrase “Cultivating Community?” Was that a light bulb moment, or has that always been a phrase that you've had in mind?

I think community has always been on my mind, bringing people together. The word that describes a community, or how I was doing it, has been different. I used to say building community. I played with rocking community, and I wasn't quite on that one. Then I got to revolutionizing community, how do we bring it up in a new way? Then the idea of cultivating really hit me as far as a seed growing up into a tree. This idea of organic growth can happen as it does in nature. I felt like this idea of cultivating really resonated with me. This idea is that I am not a creator, but that I can curate spaces and foods and coffees and create an experience where people can really connect. 

What is your personal definition of hospitality?

Well, when I think of a hospital, I think of being cared for and leaving in a better way. It's a little safe space that's away from your home, your work, or family life; where you can heal and thrive and maybe find community within the place in the same way. I feel like gatherings from many millennia ago, people would gather in places that would not be fancy, but where people are able to connect with each other. Oftentimes, food and drink are a part of those gatherings. When I think of hospitality, I think of connecting with generations ago how people would gather over food and drink, have great conversations, and leave each other in a better place. 

How has hospitality changed in today’s world?

I think of Old World hospitality in a way that has been a part of our cultures for, I believe, since mankind has existed, yet I think there are opportunities to engage in ways that are creative. I think of hospitality in our current culture as an opportunity to extend love, and care, a gift of free coffee and conversation. Leaving each other in a better place-type attitude. The idea is that at the table, everybody is welcome. In many other generations, women or people of different stature didn't have the Ticket to Ride and weren't welcome to the table. My thinking in our current time is that everybody is welcome and not only welcomed to the table but given the opportunity to contribute. It's a mutual experience of sharing and caring for one another.

What do you look for when hiring a barista?

I think of our staff and our people as an extension of the brand, and I think of the business more in terms of people. There needs to be an alignment of values and excellence in the quality. There has to be trust when I'm not here that the Beantrust experience is extended. Lastly, I believe that creativity is a part. So not just perfunctory type approaches to how we do things, but agency to create, explore, and problem solve to make the space better. 

How do you connect with all of your suppliers for the store?

So over the years, I've always listened. I think this idea of mastery really is important. A deep understanding of a product or service, but also how we connect with each other. I think collaboration is really our future. How do we collaborate and do things together? How do we customize services for others? 

What is your favorite memory from your time with Beantrust?

My favorite memory might be something obscure like a grandson bringing his grandfather to Beantrust every day for a number of months before his grandfather passed away. I saw that relationship and had coffee with them out in the front for a number of months. That really impacted me because it let me see the local side of Beantrust and how it can be a place for connecting others. I remember those conversations and remember paying attention to that time, so it unlocks a memory for me. 

What are your hopes for the future of Beantrust?

My goals are to deepen Beantrust’s mission of cultivating community by improving and growing a little bit. I'd like to grow our impact in collaboration with others. I'd like to grow and possibly replace me on the distribution side so that I can travel and do some more collaboration beyond Beverly. I think paying attention to our existing friendships and relationships is essential. I like the relationship I have with Endicott, it's so much fun. I'm looking forward to deepening that friendship. I'm looking at improving the inside space of Beantrust for customer experience, the outside space we've been improving. I'd also like to improve the online presence to cultivate a community that can go beyond Beantrust. 

[youshi56]



The Litany of Trust: A Prayer for our Times

By Hanael Bianchi

Filed Under: Blog, Fertile Soil

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It was a typical Saturday in late January. My best friend was helping me install a laminate floor in our living room. We took a break to have lunch together, and chitchatted for a bit before he left. Four days later, I received a series of frantic text messages and phone calls. My friend had collapsed and had to be rushed to the hospital. The following day, I learned he had a rare and fast-growing form of cancer. Fortunately, he has responded well to treatment, and is expected to make a full recoveryMy friend’s quick descent, from thinking he had a cold to being diagnosed with cancer, provided me with a radical wake-up call. Every morning for the next few weeks, the first thought that entered my mind was the fragileness of our earthly existence. We can go about our daily routines with no concern for the future, and then in an instant, our life can be utterly and irrevocably changed.

We have a common misconception that most people are not suffering through some trial. We all think that we have a great cross, be it a financial problem, health issue, death in the family, or trouble with children, but everyone else, we assume, has it good or at the very least better than we have it. The reality is that most people hide their struggles and sugarcoat their public persona, especially on social media.

Every one of us is constantly fighting through some trial, and if you’re fortunate enough to be in the midst of a short reprieve, thank God for the break but prepare yourself for the future. I am always surprised in my conversation with coworkers, students, friends and family members when I discover that individuals, who on the surface appear to have everything in order, are in fact facing great challenges. Yes, we all have our crosses to carry.

You cannot organize your life to remove all stress. You cannot gain peace through to-do lists. You cannot control your life to find perfect happiness. Any attempt to deal with life’s challenges in a worldly manner will fail. I foolishly think that if I could only get over the hurdle in front of me, then I could rest and relax, but I always find another hurdle immediately after it. The only way to find peace, happiness and joy is to give up the worldly rat race, surrender your will and trust in God.

My younger sister is a sister, more specifically a Sister of Life in New York City. She lived in the Bronx for several years, and she wears a full religious habit. A young sister strolling up and down the streets of New York City is quite the sight, and people frequently approach her with questions. She has quite the collection of stories.

Rather frequently, complete strangers come up to her, and share their problems with her. She has noticed there are two ways of thinking. One group believes that God is not good because of the bad things that happened in their life. They blame God for a death in the family or a bad financial decision. The other group believes they are not good because of something they did in their past, perhaps they had an abortion or a hostile relationship with a family member. When something bad happens in their life, they think God is punishing them for their past actions.

In both cases, these individuals have a poor relationship with God. They do not know who God is, what he wants for them, or how they can approach him. In her brief encounters, she immediately turns to the message of God’s mercy. She has a great devotion to St. Faustina, known as the Apostle of Divine Mercy, who she is also named after, and she had found that St. Faustina’s message is a perfect antidote for the modern, secular soul.

She quickly tells them that God is a loving father, who wants the best for them, and that everyone, no matter their past sins, is loved by God. He wants to forgive all their past evil actions, and draw them closer to His Divine Heart. Don’t fight God over present concerns, instead give them to him. Give him your worries over health, money, relationships and jobs. Place your trust in God.

My sister’s love for this message was forged in her own experiences. She had many questions about the will of God in her life, especially about her vocation. She was anxious and experienced great inner turmoil. It was only when she surrendered her will and placed her trust in God that she found peace and discovered her true vocation as a sister.

She frequently shared the same short speech about trusting in God, and she often wished that she had something in her hands that she could give to people. To that end, she composed a short Litany of Trust (see below), and now, she distributes it to the people she meets. This wonderful prayer will help you to rely more on Jesus and less on yourself. It will help you with your little struggles during the good times, but it will also provide you with great comfort and confidence in the heat of your greatest struggles.

Litany of Trust

From the belief that I have to earn Your love … Deliver me, Jesus.

From the fear that I am unlovable … Deliver me, Jesus.

From the false security that I have what it takes … Deliver me, Jesus.

From the fear that trusting You will leave me more destitute … Deliver me, Jesus.

From all suspicion of Your words and promises … Deliver me, Jesus.

From the rebellion against childlike dependency on You … Deliver me, Jesus.

From refusals and reluctances in accepting Your will … Deliver me, Jesus.

From anxiety about the future … Deliver me, Jesus.

From resentment or excessive preoccupation with the past … Deliver me, Jesus.

From restless self-seeking in the present moment … Deliver me, Jesus.

From disbelief in Your love and presence … Deliver me, Jesus.

From the fear of being asked to give more than I have … Deliver me, Jesus.

From the belief that my life has no meaning or worth … Deliver me, Jesus.

From the fear of what love demands … Deliver me, Jesus.

From discouragement … Deliver me, Jesus.

That You are continually holding me, sustaining me, loving me … Jesus, I trust in you.

That Your love goes deeper than my sins and failings, and transforms me …Jesus, I trust in you.

That not knowing what tomorrow brings is an invitation to lean on You … Jesus, I trust in you.

That You are with me in my suffering … Jesus, I trust in you.

That my suffering, united to Your own, will bear fruit in this life and the next …Jesus, I trust in you.

That You will not leave me orphan, that You are present in Your Church…Jesus, I trust in you.

That Your plan is better than anything else … Jesus, I trust in you.

That You always hear me, and in Your goodness always respond to me …Jesus, I trust in you.

That You give me the grace to accept forgiveness and to forgive others …Jesus, I trust in you.

That You give me all the strength I need for what is asked …Jesus, I trust in you.

That my life is a gift … Jesus, I trust in you.

That You will teach me to trust You … Jesus, I trust in you.

That You are my Lord and my God … Jesus, I trust in you.

That I am Your beloved one … Jesus, I trust in you.

Amen.

https://youtu.be/_mVrNwZP9Ek?si=LRQlfgjML2xmfxEf

https://youtu.be/lApy2Okc0Ck?si=PdixKY5UZtd73XwP

[fionacle]

Something I actually talk about a lot. In this world, people are bullied. They tell you that when people bully you, they get in trouble. What really happens to them? Maybe they get a talk that does nothing, maybe even makes it worse. What happens to you? Your parents tell you you’re being too emotional. Stop letting them get to you. Stop showing weakness so they have something to prey on. They tell you bullies don’t go anywhere when they grow up, they’ll end up on the streets wondering “WHY WAS I SUCH A DICK IN HIGHSCHOOL? I COULD HAVE SPENT THAT TIME STUDYING!” What really happens to them? They’re your coworkers, god forbid your boss. You just have to grit and bear it. One day, say you have kids, you’re probably gonna end up with a lot of parent friends, I’m gonna use moms as an example because that’s what I’ve heard about. My mom isn’t perfect, but she tries her best to be sweet to people, and dear god she has like no friends now between having to spend time on her kids and having a job and all the falling-outs she’s had. Moms are fucking bullies, man. There’s the rich moms, they think they’re better than you, they talk about you behind your back, they tell you to your face how stupid you and your family are. They ruin your life. What teachers are there to tell now? You can’t go to the mayor and say ‘My friend was kinda rude when she was at my house today.’ They’re supposed to be gone by then. Bullies are supposed to be filtered out by the time you’re 50. But they’re not. You have to deal with them every day for the rest of your life. They never go away. And society or whatever puts it on you to handle it. Just stop talking to them. Just make your house prettier so they have nothing to bully you about. Don’t show them it upsets you, it’ll just make them do it more. It’s bullshit. It’s not fucking right. Is it really so idealist to say the world should be a place where people grow up to be their best selves? Is it really so crazy to suggest that it’s not the fault of the victims, and they shouldn’t have to fix it? Everyone gets bullied, sensitive or not, why? Just stop. I know from experience sometimes you have mean words and it’s hard to keep them in, but that’s what you’re meant to do. What happened to “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything.”? It’s a childhood lesson, one that admittedly can’t always apply to everything, but one that is still good to use most of the time. But it doesn’t matter. Bullies are at the top of the ecosystem and everyone works to keep them there. Even those who have been bullied themselves respond to new victims with “I got through it, why can’t you?” The world should be full of empathy, or at least sympathy, or if you lack the capacity for those then at least attempting to put yourself in others’ shoes and such. But it’s not like I’ve ever been bullied by a sociopath, it’s always neurotypical rich kids, or those (intentionally) mean enough to be accepted into the crowd. I myself have in the past been mean to people to fit in. I’ve been obviously different my whole life, sensitive and neurodivergent and until high school easy to trick into thinking bullies are my friends. Thanks for the trust issues, assholes, and I’ve seen them since by the way, they haven’t changed. The world is fucking messed up and it’s not fair that pointing it out makes you dramatic, complainy, sensitive. I just wish it weren’t so broken.

i am not at fault for being soft. you are at fault for being mean.

[the-guilty-writer]

Exist

Request from anon: Ok so here goes - feel free to ignore because this is a strange request.

Emily Prentiss/ sister reader- when she “dies”. Reader was closest to Spencer but can’t bare to have anything that reminds her of her sister.

She goes off grid and doesn’t find out that Emily is alive until a whole while later.

(You can change the ending if u want)

Emily Prentiss x sister!reader, Spencer Reid x platonic!reader

Summary: After Emily’s death, you take an undercover job with Interpol. When your assignment is over you come back to an intense surprise.

A/N: Thanks for this request! I hope you like it! All feedback is appreciated.

CW: Spoilers for season 6 and 7, fake deaths, one mention of periods, spencer being abandoned by someone he cares about

---

She never made it off the table.

The phrase was only seven words and nine syllables, but it changed your entire world.

Emily was older than you by three years, but that didn’t stop the two of you from being close. Your family moved around so much when you were growing up it was impossible to keep friends and your parents were always busy with work. Your sister was the person who held your hand on the first day of kindergarten, and taught you how to use period products, and helped you through your first heartbreak. Emily was the only constant in your life- the person who was always there.

And now she wasn’t. She never would be again.

---

Cleaning out your sister’s apartment was Hell on earth. You gave Sergio to Garcia, but part of you just wanted every other thing that had belonged to Emily to be burned so you wouldn’t have to touch it, or see it, or think about it. Your brain knew that it wouldn’t change anything- that the hurt would always be there- but your heart thought that if you turned everything your sister owned to ashes you could let them drift away in the wind as if they never existed in the first place.

Continuing to work at the BAU didn’t make it any easier. Every inch of the place was covered with memories of your sister; from the desk she used to sit at, to the mugs she drank her coffee out of, to the printer she could never get to work right. you saw your sister everywhere.

You couldn’t even look at your coworkers anymore.

You couldn’t look at Derek because every time you just remembered the inside joke he shared with you and your sister. You couldn’t look at Penelope because you could only think of that time at the bar with “Brad the real FBI agent”. You couldn’t look at Hotch because you could only hear him saying that he wished he and Sean could get along like you and Emily. You couldn’t look at Rossi because it only reminded you that he was the only other person you could converse in Italian with now. You couldn’t look at Spencer because he was your only best friend now that your sister was gone.

You couldn’t do your job anymore. You couldn’t be here. You bypassed Hotch and went straight to Strauss with your letter of immediate resignation. You would have almost gotten away with disappearing into thin air if Penelope wasn’t so good at her job.

“(Y/N).” Reid called from the other side of your apartment door. Of course the team sent Spencer to try to convince you to stay- who else would it be? “(Y/N), please let me in.”

You begrudgingly opened the door and let him inside, not bothering to greet him. Everything you owned was already packed in boxes, ready to be put in storage. The only things you were taking with you was what could fit in your suitcase.

“Were you really going to leave without saying goodbye?” Spencer asked. You followed his gaze as he looked around the apartment. The furniture was still in its place, but the shelf that once held books was empty. The pictures on the walls had been taken down. Every trace that this was the place you lived was gone.

“Yeah,” you admitted. “I kinda was.”

“Why?” Spencer’s voice cracked and his eyes were large. “We’re your family. You can’t just go away.”

Thus far you had held off on crying- even at your sister’s funeral you had refused to shed tears- but now they were streaming down your face and you were unable to stop them. “I can’t stay here, Spencer.” Your voice was no louder than a whisper. “I don’t know how to exist in a world without my sister.”

“So you just aren’t going to exist anymore?” Spencer asked, as if it was an impossible feat.

“Yeah,” you said. “Interpol’s pretty good at making people not exist.”

“Where are you going?” His eyes got wide with worry.

“Spencer, you know I can’t tell you that.”

“We just lost Emily. We can’t-” he took a deep breath. “I can’t lose you too.”

But your mind was already made up. You pulled Spencer into a hug and planted a soft kiss on his cheek. It was wet with his tears. Letting go and looking into his soft hazel eyes, you knew the words you would leave him with: “You can’t lose what never existed.”

A year and a half later…

Of all places to choose, Russia had been a good one- you never lived there as a kid, but spoke enough of the language to get by at first and now that you had spent two years in the middle of only-god-knows-where, Russia you were fluent in the language. Most of all, there was nothing to remind you of your sister. For two blissful years you lived as someone entirely different- someone who wasn’t (Y/N) Prentiss- but all good things have to come to an end.

You stepped into Interpol headquarters in France and expected to feel your sister’s spirit lurking in the room, but after two years the ghost caused by grief had dissipated. Even as you made your way through the building, a place you and Emily had walked side-by-side in more times than you could count, you didn’t feel like there was someone absent.

“Agent Prentiss,” the name didn’t sting anymore when someone spoke it, “you did a fantastic job. It’s not easy to go somewhere that remote for such long periods of time.”

“If I’m being honest I think the remoteness is what made it easier.” Because there was nothing to remind me that Emily is gone.

“Well, you’ve done this in the past so I won’t bore you with the details for too long. Protocol for coming off such a long assignment requires you to take at least three months off, paid of course, and we recommend that you go somewhere that will help you become steady in your identity again,” the director said. “I know you have lived the longest in DC so-”

“I was thinking Italy, actually,” you said.

The director was about to open his mouth to say something when there was a knock on his office door. Without bothering to wait to see if they could come in, the person waltzed over to the director, handed him a manila folder, and waltzed out like they owned the place. The director looked down at the folder with so much dread you thought he might vomit all over his desk.

“Sir,” you started politely. “What is in the folder?”

He looked up at you. His eyes darkened in a way you had only seen at funerals- it was the look in the eyes of the partner of the dead agent- but there was a pity with it too. It was a combination you had never seen before, and you weren’t sure what to do with it, how it should make you feel.

“We’re sending you to London,” he said slowly.

“I’ve never lived in London-”

“We’re sending you to London,” he said again. This time it was louder and slower. “Because Emily is moving there. She is alive.”

---

The rest of the conversation was a blur, but you caught all the important parts: your sister was alive. Her death was only set up to keep her safe from Doyle. Doyle was dead. Emily was alive.

Emily had faked her death for six months.

Emily had known you went underground in Russia.

Emily had come out of hiding and worked with the BAU for a year.

Emily was alive.

And nobody told you.

For a whole year, Emily had been able to tell people she was alive and healthy and well and no one even bothered to try to let you know. None of the handlers said anything. No one mentioned it in clandestine letters. No one told you.

But for a year and a half, (Y/N) Prentiss didn’t exist. When you had gone undercover, Interpol made you disappear into thin air- all electronic history erased, your bank accounts liquidated to cash and vaulted away, even your birth certificate, which you were holding now, was locked in a safe. You had become as much of a ghost as she had.

The car stopped quickly in front of the London Interpol building, jerking you back to the present. For a moment you wondered if this was real- if you were seriously about to walk into the building and see your sister alive. Maybe it was all just a dream- her death, you leaving, her being alive, you finding out. Maybe you would wake up in your apartment back in DC just to find out that none of this was ever real.

But then you saw her- her dark eyes and raven hair. You felt her arms around you- the ones that held you as a child and hugged you as an adult. You heard her voice.

“I’m sorry.”

And you should have been mad. Hell, you should have been furious. Emily had been alive for a whole year and she never tried to reach out. She never bothered to let you know that the pain you carried and worked through and accepted didn’t need to exist at all. But the relief you felt, seeing her in the flesh canceled out every negative emotion you could have felt.

“I’m just glad you’re really here,” you told her.

Emily smiled just a little bit- that sly and knowing smile you had grown to know meant she knew something you didn’t.

“There is someone who is glad you’re here.” She gestured for you to turn around and when you did, Spencer was standing there.

His hair had gotten longer, but otherwise he was almost exactly the same- tall, lanky frame clothed in slacks and a cardigan, chocolate curls that were ever-so-slightly unruly, and wide hazel eyes that looked through you as if he could read your mind.

You launched yourself at him, pulling him into a hug. He gripped you back, tighter than he ever had before. You felt him press his head into your shoulder. His breathing was heavy in your ear. 

“(Y/N),” he whispered, just loud enough that you could hear.

“Spence.” You pulled him tighter. “I’m sorry.”

Spencer pulled away and looked at you the same way you had when you told him you were leaving.

“I wanted to tell you about Emily,” he started. “I couldn’t find any way to send things to you and Garcia tried to find you but she couldn’t and-”

“It’s okay, Spencer,” you told him. “I know you would have told me if you could have.”

He pulled you into another hug, this one more gentle than the last. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he pressed his head into your shoulder again. Behind Spencer, you could see Emily smiling softly at the two of you.

It felt impossible- having your two best friends in one room again- but it felt whole and it felt right.

Once again, you could exist.

[neondiamond]

🎄 Recently Read Fics - December 2022 🎄

These are all the amazing fics I read over the past month (from shortest to longest). Don’t forget to leave kudos and comments to show the authors your appreciation if you read any of these! ❤️

🎄 the prettiest customer (and the cutest barista) by @onlythebravest (1k, G)

Louis is the pretty customer that comes in and orders hot chocolate while Harry is the cute barista that takes his order.

🎄 St. Elena by @allwaswell16 (1k, NR)

When Harry’s illness worsened, the crew of the Ace of Spades sailed to the island home of Captain Grim.

An Ace of Spades timestamp from Zayn’s point of view

🎄 Star On Top Of The Tree by iliveforyou_ilongforyou (2k, G)

Louis and Harry get a tree that is too big for Louis to reach the top of, leaving him unable to put the star on top. They find a solution.

🎄 Oh Little Town of BATHlehem by @londonfoginacup (2k, G)

Louis Tomlinson needs a small pink bathtub.

He needs it.

His fucking family had forgotten to include him in the email chain for Doris for Christmas, with her very carefully thought out Christmas list, until every easy item was gone. Only when he asked Lottie if anyone else had heard from Doris yet, only then did they realise their mistake and forward the email chain to him.

So, it’s either a small pink bathtub or an entire bouncy castle. And if he had the money for a bouncy castle that would be fine, but that fucker costs more than his monthly rent and he simply does not make that much working as an optometrist assistant.

🎄 Advent Drabbles by @berzerkshires (series of 25 drabbles, various ratings)

Glimpses of the 25 days leading up to Christmas with Harry, Louis, and his broken arm.

🎄 Charm Your Pants Off by @evilovesyou (2k, G)

When Harry hurt himself in front of all of his coworkers, he thought his Christmas Eve couldn’t get any worse. That was, until he ended up in an actual ambulance.

Perhaps the gentle and ridiculously attractive doctor he meets at the hospital can make his trip (pun absolutely intended) worth it?

🎄 The Elf who Saved Christmas by @ladyaj-13 (2k, G)

Ernie and Doris are tired, grouchy, and no one told Louis you had to book an appointment to see Santa.

🎄 a face of a lover with a fire in his heart by @voulezloux (2k, G)

it’s christmas time and whamageddon is upon us. with all of their friends out, harry and louis make a bet to see who can not listen to the wham! song longer.

🎄 Change of Plans by @haztobegood (2k, G)

Harry and Louis plan to visit their families over Christmas. Sometimes, plans don't work out.

🎄 A Kiss for Christmas by @ladyaj-13 (3k, T)

Louis meets Father Christmas, then twenty one years later, he meets his son.

🎄 All the lights are sparkling for you, it seems by @thebreadvansstuff (3k, T)

Harry is determined to make Louis' birthday count, but his plans turn into a fiasco.

🎄 Mistletoe Cove by @wabadabadaba (4k, G)

a small town throws a snowman competition in which two teams are convinced they will be winners of the coveted prize- a reservation to Mistletoe Cove. Only one team can be the winner though, who will it be: Harry Styles and Niall Horan or Zayn Malik and Louis Tomlinson?

🎄 Ho Ho Hopefully by @larrieblr (5k, T)

The one where Harry is an elf in Santa’s workshop, and Louis is one of the humans he’s been assigned to.

🎄 Just You and I (a starry sky) by @justanothershadeofblue (7k, E)

"getting accidentally pregnant by his childhood best friend-with-benefits" was definitely not on Harry Styles' holiday to-do list - but apparently it's what has happened, so now he has to figure out how to tell Louis without ruining Louis' birthday, their family holiday, oh, and literally everything else about their lives. Oops?

🎄 Grow as We Go by @larryatendoftheday (7k, T)

Six years into their relationship, Harry and Louis hit a breaking point. Louis is tired of shoving the ring box into the back of his underwear drawer, so he throws out an ultimatum.

Or a fic about growing up and choosing each other.

🎄 Snow Squalls & Kitty Paws by @littleroverlouis (8k, G)

Louis and Zayn own The Future is Meow, a bookstore-slash-cat café, and are spreading the holiday cheer to their customers this Christmas Eve. A few morning snow flakes turn into a full-blown blizzard and before they know it, the safest place for them and their employees to spend the night is the bookstore.

Shop regular and object of Louis' affections, Harry, is also snowed in with them— as is another man who Harry seems more than friendly with.

Will it be a Christmas miracle if Louis survives the snow squalls, a seemingly unrequited crush, and a curmudgeonly tortoiseshell cat?

🎄 Silver-White Winters by @lululawrence (9k, NR)

Liam Payne had learned many things as a bartender. He'd learned when people needed to talk, or when they needed a gentle smile. He now knew when they wanted advice or someone to just agree with them. He also had come to recognize when someone was past the limit and needed to be told no.

But when it came to holidays, Liam had learned that when people came into the Neighborhood Pub alone on Christmas Eve, it was for a reason.

Niall, Zayn, Harry, and Louis all definitely have their own reasons for showing up at Liam's bar alone on Christmas Eve. With the help of a surprise winter storm, none of them will have a reason to be alone for long.

🎄 Apparently by Chance, at Precisely the Right Moment by @lousmoonshine (19k, E)

Alpha Harry doesn’t believe in soulmates. Omega Louis has been looking for his soulmate all his life.

🎄 Here where you should be by @lunarheslwt (19k, G)

When Harry, an anxious alpha, found himself panicking over last minute Christmas shopping, he found comfort in the kind omega shop assistant, Louis. He wasn't meant to invite the omega home for Christmas when he found out that he's spending Christmas alone. He wasn't meant to catch feelings. Hell, he wasn't even meant to be able to go home for the holiday. It was shaping up to be a Christmas full of surprises.

🎄 make you mine this season by @disgruntledkittenface (28k, M)

After Harry’s Christmas plans fall through, she decides to surprise her best friend Nick in New York. Unfortunately, Nick decided to surprise her in San Francisco at the same time. When they realize what happened, they each resign themselves to staying and spending time in the other’s city. Harry tries to make the best of things, making elaborate plans to distract herself from feeling lonely, while Nick is just looking forward to her first real vacation from her hectic job in years. Neither of them will have the Christmas that they expected, but maybe they’ll each get the one that they need.

🎄 love drunk, waiting on a miracle by @hellolovers13 (30k, E)

Christmas inspired Coffeshop AU

Harry has a bit of a crush on a customer. Thankfully, the feeling is mutual.

These are their first 24 days together.

🎄 Set the Sky Alight, Oh Holy Night by @londonfoginacup (33k, T)

One house, five almost-strangers (plus Niall), six new beginnings.

🎄 I Keep Looking For Magic by @lululawrence (36k, NR)

Harry loves Christmas, but this year is special. After ten years of boyfriends all failing to ever meet Harry's family, Harry has a fiance to introduce and things are looking like they will be perfect.

Until they break up.

Harry cannot go home alone when he had promised to bring a significant other again. This leaves him with little choice but to find someone to pretend they are his fiance.

Surely nothing could go wrong with this plan.

🎄 Let Your Heart Be Light by @cyantific (59k, WIP, T)

Louis Tomlinson, a self-proclaimed holiday-hater, loses his job two weeks before Christmas. Broke and desperate to see his family back home in England, he takes the only job left at the mall as one of Santa’s helpers. Harry is an unconventional mall Santa, the youngest one they’ve had in years, but with as much holiday spirit as any other seasoned Saint Nick. He’s determined to un-Grinch the new guy in Santa’s Village if it takes until Christmas, then he finds out the devastating reason Louis has lost his Christmas cheer. Will Harry be just the thing Louis needs to help him get his sparkle back?

🎄 Love This Christmas by @chloehl10 (67k, M)

Teacher Harry is excited for Christmas with his class. When new TA Louis starts, sparks fly between the two men. But Louis’ always dashing off, and Harry's left pining. Will Christmas help them find love?

🎄 Mistletoe’s For Two by @ireallysawanangel (90k, E)

After an encounter in a coffee shop with the rudest man he's ever met, Louis hopes the city is just big enough that he'll never bump into him again. When he spots that man at a bar the following evening, a plan begins to form. They both need dates for their respective Christmas parties and decide to use each other for their own benefit. They'll help one another through the holidays and then 'break it off' on New Year's, then agree to never see each other again. Developing feelings was not part of the plan.

[rich-and-bitchy-is-my-type]

Baby It’s Cold Outside

Poppy Weekend Day 1: Past

Tags: Coffee shop AU, first meetings, pre-canon AU, Christmas AU, slightly hurt/comfort, ooc as hell (sorry)

Bee Hughes, begrudging barista working in Hoboken, comes across a very particular customer.

Christmas is really overstepping the limit this year.

Maybe it’d be alright, all the decorations and jingling music and strobing lights choking the avenue and the collection of mechanically ho-ho-hoing Santa figurines her boss felt compelled to line up along the counter the moment December hit. Not Bee’s favorite atmosphere, of tacky goodwill. It’s just that the string lights her coworkers put up are too low for her to clear without stooping just slightly. Every time she serves a doughnut, pours a coffee, goes to the door to flip the sign to CLOSED when she takes her break, she has to do this stupid little bob of her knees to duck underneath them. Every time.

Her coworker and friend, Nadia, saunters neatly under the string lights, bags a donut, hands it to a hipster boy with a smile. He smiles back. Leaves a dollar on the counter when he goes and everything. The doorbell tinkles in this frustratingly festive way, rubbing it in.

Noticing Bee’s scowl, Nadia says to her, "You’re a grinch."

"You’re five foot four."

"You could always fix the string lights if they bother you that much."

"Bee!" her boss hollers from some passageway to hell, probably. "Don’t lay a finger on the string lights!"

"Wasn’t gonna, sir!" she calls back.

Nadia already has fifteen dollars in tips neatly stowed in her apron pocket. Nadia is neat about everything.

Bee has zero dollars.

It’s okay, she tells herself. Her shift has just started. Nadia’s been in the shop for longer, so it makes sense.

She takes out the cookie tin and starts arranging them as neatly as she can. "Can you leave some of the sappy boys to me for a change?"

"You won’t get any tips from them, Bee. You’re never nice to boys."

"I’m nice," she says, and Nadia rolls her eyes. Okay, maybe she isn’t nice. "I could try flirting with them if it means I’ll get money."

Living in New York has always been her dream. Yeah, maybe she watched a lot of chick flicks growing up and had the tiniest obsession with Sex and the City, but who can blame her? Bee Hughes is a free spirit. As much as she loves her home town and the people living there… it’s simply not enough. She needs more. She needs to prove herself that she can make it.

And yeah, as cheesy as it sounds, New York seemed like the perfect city to start her perfect new life.

There’s a small problem, of course. There always is.

She has no money.

So when your childhood friend Nadia invites you to live with her in New Jersey (which, let’s face it, is close enough) and work at a café over winter break, you say yes.

A temporary job in Hoboken will do, at least for now. Until she can save enough money to move to New York, that is.

"Really?" Nadia says, bringing her back to reality. "I don’t think I’ve ever seen you flirt with a boy before. Kinda thought you were incapable."

Now it’s Bee’s turn to roll her eyes.

"Shut up."

She’s out of cookies to arrange. Bee goes to grab a new batch and nearly gets garroted by those damn string lights.

She’s usually somewhat of a fan of winter, at least, with the power it has to keep people indoors and give the grimy streets a fresh coat of white. Snow days spent at home watching the latest 90 day fiancé episodes. Her and her sisters have their own way of doing things at Christmas. Namely: quietly. Which is good. Except her sisters aren’t in New Jersey with her. They’re back at home, in Farmsville, and she’ll have to spend Christmas away from her family for the first time in… well, ever.

She thought that watching tourists slip on ice patches and spending her evenings with Nadia would hold the same entertainment value as spending Christmas at home, but it doesn’t. It makes her wonder if she’s really suited to live in a big city after all.

"I’ll give you whatever tips I get today if you take the flack for trashing the string lights," she propositions Nadia from her tangle of plastic.

Nadia stares at her, amused. "I’d like to see you make more than five dollars on this shift."

Bee’s out of the string lights. She’d like to tear them down and maybe burn them, but she straightens them instead because she is a slave to the corporate machine and she needs money badly.

"Okay," she pulls at the hair tie in her ponytail, tightening it. It’s no use, some loose curls are blocking her view anyways, "alright, six dollars by 7 pm. Will you do the string lights then?"

“Bee, my shift is literally over. Like, now. And you should go back to work.” Nadia is, in fact, hanging up her apron right now.

"You’re no fun," Bee sighs.

Nadia’s back is turned. She walks past the counter, throwing up her hands as she reaches the exit.

"See you at home, Bee. Try not to murder anyone today," she says, opening the door to leave.

"Ha, ha. Very funny."

The bell tinkles as Nadia steps outside. Fucking tinkles.

Trying not to murder anyone proves to be a much more difficult task than Bee originally thought. Bee smiles at a single mom, three frat bros, at least five businessmen, a businesswoman, two different Karens, a gaggle of trendy teenage girls, and none of them think to slip her an extra dollar. Two hours later, the jar remains empty. And the tinkle of the door every single time someone enters the shop is getting more and more annoying by the second.

Resting the crown of her head against the glass in exhaustion, she pulls at the chain of her necklace to unearth the tiny bee pendant. The rough edges of the wings feel grounding against the pad of her thumb. Maybe it’s a little corny to have a pendant with your namesake, but it was a gift from her parents. It reminds her of home.

The bell tinkles again.

The most wonderful time of the year.

Bee takes in the customer that’s approaching her. She’s a young girl, probably around her same age. One of those pretty looking blonde girls that probably attend Ivy League schools. A girl who takes too much care of her hair. A girl in an expensive-looking winter coat and boots that Bee could never afford, not even if she worked double shifts for the rest of the month. A girl that definitely doesn’t live in Hoboken. A girl who’s been out in the wind for a while, judging by the pink tip of her nose and her reddened cheeks. That’s what Bee gets from her eyes. 

Wait, why is she looking at her eyes?

"Welcome," she greets the new customer, trying to focus her eyes on literally anything else but the girl in front of her.

It’s no use. Her eyes are drawn to her once again, and Bee notices that her face looks anxious, as if she’s looking around to see if someone’s followed her. She definitely doesn’t live in the area.

The girl keeps looking behind her back, not acknowledging Bee at all. She fights back the urge to roll her eyes and waits patiently for the customer to address her.

"Black coffee. No sweetener." she finally says, still not looking at Bee. "The name’s Poppy"

O…kay? This isn’t Starbucks and you’re the only customer here, I don’t need to know your name, it’s what Bee wants to say. She doesn’t.

"Sure," Bee nods.

Turning her back on the mystery blonde girl, she focuses on the coffee pot and waits for the familiar beep that indicates that the beverage is ready. Bee shakes out a cardboard cup from the stack, pours the drink, and presses on the lid.

"Poppy?" she calls, fighting back the urge to chuckle. The name does fit her, somehow.

The other girl looks caught in a dream, staring down the counter.

"Poppy," Bee tries again. Her own voice sounds entertained, "your coffee."

She whips around all at once and darts forward to take it, finding the cup with a flutter of her fingers. "Right. Thanks."

"Is there anything else?"

She takes a while to think about it. But then, quietly says: "No," she fishes out a five, "thanks. I’ll go sit over there."

Okay… this girl is definitely strange. She looks nervous, almost out of place. As if she isn’t used to cafés like this one - and judging by her appearance, she’s not used to middle class neighborhoods at all. She looks… expensive. Yeah, that’s definitely the word.

Bee wonders what she must look like. Probably lower middle class.

The girl keeps looking at her phone and then at the door. Bee stares at her, intrigued.

"Waiting for someone?"

She looks startled at the question, and for a few seconds she stays silent. Pensive. As if she’s considering if she should answer the question at all or ignore it entirely.

And just when Bee thinks that she’s not getting an answer, the girl opens her mouth and says: "Yes."

"I see. Well, I hope they don’t keep you waiting. It looks like it will start snowing soon."

She nods, her eyes focusing on the door one more time. Bee wonders if she’s heard her at all.

Bee takes out the antiseptic spray and cloth and soaks the counter with the spray. The girl is ignoring her, her boss hasn’t shown his face in hours and the shop is otherwise empty. It’s fine. This is fine.

Bee bites with a scrub at the ringed surface. She wants to see her fucking face in it.

Fifteen minutes later, the rag is worn out and there’s no trace of whoever this girl was supposed to meet.

Bee eyes her carefully, setting the discarded rag aside. She goes to wash her hands, all the while keeping her gaze fixed on the girl sitting at the table. Her expression is starting to sour, and Bee feels almost sorry for her.

She gets to the front of the counter, ducking under the string lights successfully. For once, it’s not the first thing on her mind.

"I didn’t order this," the girl frowns when Bee places a cookie on a plate in front of her, looking up from her phone.

"I know," Bee replies. She’ll find a way to explain the missing cookie to her boss later. "You just look like you need it right now."

The girl gets defensive almost immediately. "I’m sorry?"

"Oh! No, I mean–" Bee trails off, trying to come up with a good excuse. She’s definitely not used to giving away pity cookies – especially not to girls as pretty as Poppy here. "We’re giving them away for Christmas. It goes with your coffee, see?"

It’s a complete lie, of course, but she still points at the (now cold) coffee resting on the table.

"Oh. Thanks, then," the girl whispers, going back to looking absolutely dejected.

Bee isn’t sure why, but she feels the urge to cheer her up. Maybe it’s stupid, but she can’t help feeling bad for her. Whoever stood this girl up was clearly someone important to her.

She glances down at her and says, "Are you a student?"

She herself hadn’t expected those words to leave her mouth. This is exceedingly weird. She, out of all people, is making small talk with a customer. She never does that.

The girl looks equally confused, but still opens her mouth to reply. "Uh, yeah. I am."

Bee looks at her awkwardly. This entire situation is so strange. Judging her by her appearance, she doesn’t seem like the type that would talk to baristas (or any kind of minimum wage worker) at all.

What’s going on?

"So am I!" Bee smiles, and immediately regrets it. The girl just looks at her, somewhat interested. What. Is. Happening.

Bee shakes her head, trying to focus. What the hell is she doing, talking to a stranger like that? She gazes at the window instead.

"Oh…" Bee murmurs, the words escaping her mouth before she can stop them once again. "It’s snowing already."

The girl lifts her head and looks outside with nothing but heartbreak in her features. It sends a painful pang down Bee’s stomach.

"So it is," she sighs and stands up after giving her phone screen one last glance. "I should get going, then."

"Are you sure?" Bee asks her with concern in her voice. "Uhm, I don’t think walking in the snow right now is a good idea. You could wait here if you need–"

The girl laughs with amusement. It’s the prettiest smile Bee’s ever seen. Shit, she probably looks stupid right now, staring at her like she’s just fallen in love.

"I have a car waiting for me outside."

Of course. Of course a girl that looks like that has a driver. Bee cringes internally. What is it with her today? Why is she acting dumber than usual?

The girl walks past her, a sad smile adorning her delicate features.

"Thanks for the cookie," she tells her with a little tilt of her head as she turns away. And before she goes, she fishes something out of her purse and shoves it carefully in the tip jar without looking at her. She speed-walks out.

Bee stares at her disappearing silhouette. Then she stares at the tip jar, no longer empty. She fishes out the bills: a ten and a fifty. A ten? And–

Poppy just tipped her sixty dollars.

The bills feel very heavy in her hands all of a sudden. What does this mean? What kind of person tips that insane amount of money after just getting one coffee? Bee hates the things her heart is doing right now. It’s stirring, almost fluttering, in this frivolous and completely un-Bee fashion and she can’t seem to quell it.

------------------

When she gets home, she immediately barges into Nadia’s room. She sinks onto her bed and waves the sixty dollars between Nadia and her laptop.

"Did you mug someone on your way home?" she asks, half-jokingly.

"This random rich girl tipped me all of this."

"What?!" Nadia gasps, reaching for the bills.

"I know! It’s– it’s weird, right?"

"Yeah, definitely. But it’s also kinda nice? I mean, you’re sixty dollars richer now. You’re totally buying groceries this week!"

"Shut up. I’m still trying to wrap my mind around it. We just talked for a bit, and then she suddenly said she had to leave and just… dropped sixty dollars into the tip jar," Bee repeats, still incredulous. "Who does that? Do you think she was flirting with me?

"Maybe. Did you ask her for her number?"

"No…" Bee whimpers. "Pretty stupid of me, huh?"

Nadia rolls her eyes. "So what’s that bring your tip total up to?"

With a sigh, Bee drops her forehead against Nadia’s shoulder. "Sixty dollars."

"Did you try smiling?" she reminds her.

Bee turns her head to the side, squinting up at her. "Of course I did."

"Asking them about their Christmas plans?"

"I forgot. I wasn’t interested."

"Begging on your knees?"

"I did… lightly threaten a Karen," Bee whispers.

That gets Nadia to set her laptop down. "What?"

"I didn’t threaten her. I threatened that I’d cry."

"Oh," Nadia twitches her nose and looks at Bee. "You know, I can’t really picture you crying."

"Well, it didn’t work, so…" Bee groans. "I feel so stupid for not asking for her number."

"Yeah, Bee. That was pretty stupid of you. Who knows, though? Maybe you’ll see her again."

Bee shakes her head. "I don’t think so. She definitely didn’t live in the area, and whoever she was waiting for stood her up, so…" she trails off, suddenly looking at her phone screen.

Her mom’s calling her. For some reason, Bee can tell that it’s not good news.

"Hold on, Nadia, I gotta take this call."

Nadia simply nods and Bee walks to her own room, closing the door behind her.

"Hi, mom? Is everything okay–"

"Bee? Oh, honey…" her mom interrupts her, and Bee can tell that she’s been crying. "I have some bad news."

"What happened?" she goes to sit on the bed, her heart beating like crazy in her chest.

"Your aunt–" her mom sobs a little, and Bee can feel her heart sink into her chest. "She’s died, Bee."

"Oh, mom, I’m so sorry–"

"That’s not all," she continues, "she’s left us a huge inheritance. We’re– we’re debt free."

Her words immediately send a pang into Bee’s stomach. She can feel her head spinning, trying to process all this new information at once. She’ll probably have to go back to Farmsville tomorrow or the day after if she wants to make it in time for the funeral. But her car is at the repair shop and she doesn’t have enough money to rent a new one…

"Bee," her mom says her name again, bringing her back to reality, "you know what this means, right?"

"What…?"

"We finally have enough money to pay for your tuition. You can transfer this next semester to that Ivy League school you kept talking about. What was the name again…?" her mother trails off. Bee doesn’t reply. "Right! Belvoire, was it?"

Bee looks down at her hands and finds she’s been turning her necklace charm round and round between her fingers. She’s still processing everything, her emotions barely giving her any time to think. Her aunt just died. Her family is rich. She can quit her crappy job. She can finally move to New York. She can go back to school. It’s so much and it’s all at once – she feels like she’s going crazy. Nothing that felt certain a few hours ago feels the same now. She doesn’t know what to make of it.

But if there’s one thing she’s sure about is that her life is about to change. Whether it’s for better or for worse remains a mystery.

A few seconds after hanging up the phone, she stays in her place on the bed, unmoving.

"Things are never going to be the same, right?" she whispers to no one in particular.

Deep down, she already knows the answer to that question.

------------------

Sooo… I always wanted to write a silly little AU where Poppy and Bee meet prior to Bee transferring to Belvoire. It makes me think that maybe, if the circumstances had been any different, they could’ve been friends right from the beginning (yes im delusional)

I know that Poppy leaving any kind of tip is probably ooc as hell but I am deluded enough to tell myself that the power of gay made her do it.

Who is Poppy meeting…? I’ll leave that up to you guys! Even though I’m sure the answer is pretty clear.

The ending probably felt super rushed – and that’s because it *was* rushed 😂 sorry, I was trying to meet the deadline!

Do you think that they’ll recognize each other when they meet again? I think this time it would be easier for Bee to connect the dots and realize the truth about Poppy’s parents. Oh, before i forget! a quick fun fact: Nadia is actually my TFS mc. Crossover incoming…? haha jk… haha unless 😳

Anyways! I hope you enjoyed my super late, kinda christmas-y one shot (despite the fact that it’s literally January)

Happy Poppy weekend, clowns!

[fromasgardandback]

The Other Ruzek Kid [1]

Kevin Atwater x Reader

description: Kevin finds out that Adam has a sibling and can't help but falling for his best friend's little sister

word count: 1.1k

warning: parental neglect; brotherly love; fluff

a/n: not my most finest work, but wanted to get it out

masterlist

Growing up with Adam was fun, annoying, and eye-opening. Adam was the overprotective brother you didn’t know you needed. He was constantly looking out for you, whether you saw the traps, or not. He took you to places where your parents wouldn’t. He would walk you to and from school every day, and when he got old enough, he drove. He annoyed you to high heavens in your teen years, yet brought imagination to your childhood. Adam was the father that yours wouldn’t be for you. Bob, Disco Bob, Bob Ruzek; he wasn’t your father by choice. The moment he found out he was having a daughter, he shut himself off to you. He was great to Adam, which was a fit of jealousy you had of Adam; however, never held it against your big brother. 

Your mother mentally checked out your sophomore year of high school, to which you moved in with Adam at college soon after. It wasn’t that your mother didn’t love you, she did, just after the heartache of her break up with Bob, and then her second husband, it got harder for her to take care of herself, let alone you. Adam made sure to take care of you, and that you would never be alone again. He was your whole world. You adored and looked up to Adam. That changed when you stopped by to his Intelligence team of the Chicago Police Department at the 21st district, you wanted to surprise him. 

“Hey, what are you doing here?” Adam gently grabbed your arm and pulled you to the side. 

“I came to surprise you. I made cookies for your team.” You smiled wide. It got worse for Adam when Hank walked up behind them. 

“Uh Sarge, this is my baby sister, Y/N. Y/N, this is Sargeant Hank Voight.” Adam smiled uneasily.

You shook Voight’s hand politely, “Sargeant Voight. I’ve heard many great things about you. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Eh, well it’s nice to meet you too. Funny how Adam’s never mentioned you. Would be nice to know all of our family in order to keep them safe.” Hank looked toward Adam with an emotion of surprise and annoyance. You looked up at Adam shocked, “You don’t talk about me?” A hurt expression ran across your face. You chuckled softly, “Uhm, it was nice meeting you, Sargeant. I hope you have a lovely day.” With that, you turned your heel and practically ran down the stairs. 

“Y/N. Hey,” Adam followed, grabbing your arm. “I didn’t tell anyone because I didn’t want to interfere with you and my work. If you saw what cases we get daily, I don’t want you mixed up in that.”  You nodded. 

“I get it. Your coworkers have their families on their desks and talk about them. You don’t. Even when your Sargeant asks you, you still lie. Does Kim know who I am?” You moved you am back from his hold. “Do you know how badly that hurts? We’re not kids anymore Adam, don’t feel the need to worry about me. Focus on your job, I’ll see you in another life.” Tears rolling down your face, you left the district. 

Adam sighed closing his eyes, leaning against the brick outside. Turning quickly, he punched the brick causing his knuckles to scratch the skin and bleed. 

One week has gone by. Adam won’t stop calling and texting you. He stopped by your work once, but you were in a meeting. You walked up the steps of your apartment building and saw him sitting against your door. Sighing you unlocked the door as he stood up. “Can we please talk? You need to know this.” You nodded and let him in. 

Adam slowly walked into the living room. You knew why he was here but still didn’t want to hear any of his excuses. 

The past week had been hell for you. Work was giving you the runaround, your emotions were already high with the Adam situation, and nothing seemed to fall into place since then.

“Y/N. I love you with everything in me. You are my baby sister. I know the emotional tug-of-war you’ve gone through with mom and dad. The line of work I’m in, the things I see… I cannot put you through that. I need to protect you. I didn’t tell anyone because I didn’t want you to get kidnapped, hurt, or killed.” Adam gently cupped your face. “You mean too much to me.” 

You smiled, leaning into his touch. “Does this mean I can meet them?” With an hesitant chuckle, “Yes, come to Molly’s tonight. They’ll be there.”

You arrived at Molly’s a couple hours later, changed and clean from work. Scouring the room until you found Adam sitting with Kim. The rest of the team showed up and was quick to share happy hello’s. You knew this would be a night to remember. Both you and Adam shared funny and endearing moments from your childhood and embarrassing ones from your teenage years.

“Wait,” Hailey chuckled, “You’re telling me Adam was prom king and then his date left and hooked up with the science teacher under the bleachers?” 

“Yeah, and he came home with the best food her daddy’s credit card could buy.”

They all shared a shocked chuckle. “Who knew Adam could be so petty?” 

“Oh that was all me. I taught him that.” You smiled wide, sipping your drink. The next couple of hours was filled with laughter, drinks, and so many cop stories. 

It started getting late, and while you were getting your jacket on, Kevin smoothly glided himself next to you.

“Well, if it’s not too much to ask, can I see that smile again? Maybe tomorrow at The Village?” His adorable smile shown brightly.

“Hm. I don’t know. Need to check my calendar. Think I have plans with this really cute guy.”

“Oh?” Kevin smirked.

“Yeah. He’s got these eyes that can make your knees weak. Not to mention that smile.” You turned to walk out with Kevin. “He’s tall too, and oh those muscles.” Kevin stopped you outside the bar and gently leaned you against the brick. 

“I’d be a fool to say no. So, I’ll say yes, and can’t wait to see you there.” Kissing his cheek you walked down the street smiling with him chasing after you.