#i think i want to. hug someone. but my sister is in another country and my bestf is in another city

[girlivealwaysbean]

btw I saw my old crush today

[januaryembrs]

TROUBLE ALMOST ALL MY LIFE | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader

Description: The ONE time the BAU needs you + the FOUR times you need them.

word count: 24k (what on earth was I thinking)

trigger warnings: mentions of spencers addictions + use + side affects. MOMMY ISSUES thankyou ambassador Prentiss. hostage scene + injuries. mentions of forced/pressured marriage. fem!reader. reader and Emily struggle to bond.

authors note: We never meet Emily's dad nor do we see a picture so while reader is given a nickname of Bugsy, she still keeps her real name (no use of y/n) and is given ZERO physical descriptors. ALL of my fem!readers should feel included here, let me know if this is not the case! also I don't speak any language besides English however she does speak many because of her mom, so I really tried to get it right, message me if I'm being stupid!!

series masterlist | next chapter

[this] means its spoken in another language.

—

‘trouble on my left, trouble on my right,

I’ve been facing trouble almost all my life’

1. the one where you become a translator.

“I’ll make some calls, I may still have some friends in the Eastern countries,” Ambassador Prentiss announced to the room, standing from her place on the plush sofa. 

A case had landed quite literally in Emily’s lap when her mother had come by that morning asking for Hotch, a Russian migrant looking for her father with a ransom note and a sliced off finger shoved through her mailbox, wedding ring still attached. 

It wasn’t every day Emily wished she’d brushed up on her Russian, but today of all days she was struggling to keep up. 

“We don’t have much time, we need a division of labour,” Hotch’s serious face settled, the time constraints making him just that bit more dictatorial, “Morgan, someone needs to go to the Chernus’s house in Baltimore in case they are contacted again,” 

“What about the language barrier?” Derek raised, smoothing a hand over the short scruff of his beard, “We can’t have the unsub speaking with the family directly. He could say anything to them without us knowing,” 

Bugsy would hate to admit she fit the criteria for youngest daughter of a workaholic mother and distant father to a tea, but Emily would say different. 

Elizabeth Prentiss had never been a warm woman; Emily used to tell her the scowl was a side effect of the overplucking of her eyebrows, not the serious nature of her job. Her youngest girl once said her mother’s lips looked like she’d sucked a lemon. Of course they admired her work, but world peace meant jack shit to a little girl wanting nothing more than a mother’s hug. 

Despite the fact she’d pushed away her husband and both her daughters in favour of her career, the one useful thing about being the Ambassador’s daughter wasn’t just the money, but the widespread culture the girls had been crammed full of since they could so much as beg for a sippy cup. 

“Baltimore, you say?” Emily asked Hotch with a somewhat doubtful wince, “I mean you could always-”

“Absolutely not,” Her mother cut her off, rubbing the stress lines already creasing her forehead at the very notion of her other daughter, despite the fact Emily hadn’t even finished her thought.

Emily’s sigh was a reflex, the years of her mother cutting her off sparking the frustration on instinct. 

“She lives right in the city, Mother, it can’t hurt to have her just talk for them-” Emily tried to bargain, only for the sharp mouthed Ambassador shoot her a frown. 

“End of discussion, Emily,” Elizabeth snipped, her manicured fingernails twitching with annoyance, “Your sister is much too young for an assignment so serious,”

Emily rolled her eyes with a scoff, as if the two had slipped back into the role of rebellious teenager and scathing mother without much thought. 

“She's twenty-two, mom. She’s getting her masters degree for Christ sakes, she’s not ‘too young’,” The dark headed woman fought back, clicking her pen a few times as if the spring loaded ink would take away some of the temper Elizabeth seemed to flare up. 

Her mother’s lips pursed, in the way Bugsy hated, in the way that meant she was going to be mean.

“Immature may have been a better word, then,” She replied, and Emily seemed to pause. She couldn’t argue with that. “Or perhaps lazy, or puerile; callow, wild, irresponsible. Would you like me to name more?” 

“Asinine would be a good term; deriving from the Latin asinus it not only means foolish, but to be stubborn and lazy like an ass,” Spencer input helpfully to the Ambassador, only for his bright smile to fade when he saw the daggers Emily stared at him with, “Sorry, I love word games,” He muttered into his lap. 

“Asinine. Perfect, Dr Reid,” Elizabeth said, and Emily could only roll her eyes harder.

Hotch huffed, the victim’s daughter watching between the two women’s quarrel with wet eyes, the ice box with her father’s finger clenched tightly in her lap, the cold of the limb bleeding into his own gaze.

“Unfortunately, Ambassador Prentiss, despite just how asinine your daughter might be, Morgan is right. Having the Unsub possibly speaking with the family without us understanding what he’s saying could prove fatal,” He explained, ignoring the way the older woman’s mouth scrunched in bitterness. They didn’t need to be profilers to see that despite how tempered the relationship between Emily and her mother was, a tension seemed to fall between the women the moment the younger Prentiss was mentioned. 

Spencer was sure he was the only person who even knew Emily had a little sister. 

“Very well, but don’t be surprised when you find your hands full of the girl,” Elizabeth said with a shake of her head as she led the victims, a mother and daughter that seemed to cling to one another for comfort as if to rub salt in her matriarchal wound, into the break room to get away from the frosty atmosphere that now lingered around the table.

Emily sighed, picking around her fingernails the way she did when she was bothered. 

“I’m going to hate these next words that are gonna come out of my mouth,” She started with a long exhale, “But my mother’s right. Bugsy is a handful. Just try not to get her wound up, that girl smells fear,” She looked to Reid who seemed none the wiser, “I’m talking to you, wonder boy. She’ll eat you up and spit you right back out,” 

Spencer gulped quietly. 

Derek only chuckled, slapping a hand down onto Emily’s shoulder, “Relax, Prentiss. Your mom’s just got you all worried. Need I remind you I grew up with two sisters? This will be a piece of cake,”

–

Those were the famous last words of Derek Morgan. 

Loud, heavy metal music jumped through the wooden door, so loud Morgan worried his three polite knocks would go unheard as the two of them waited outside her dorm for her to answer. Morgan was about to knock again, figuring the music had drowned out the first lot, when the door swung open and a frown the spitting image of Emily’s stressed expression met their gaze. 

She looked so different to their Prentiss, but the way she seemed already scorned by the two of them told them they had the right woman. 

“Miss Prentiss?” Morgan asked formally, though he felt the warmth grow when he caught sight of a beat up friendship bracelet around her wrist amongst newer gold chains, five white blocks spelling out her sister’s name pulling tight on her skin, as if she’d quickly outgrown the thing but hadn’t the heart to remove it. 

It was then that he and Reid seemed to both reel back slightly at the fact she was standing in a large shirt, ratty around the edges, and what seemed to be a pair of men's boxers covering her bottom half, clearly not suspecting particularly important visitors. 

She looked him head to toe with a frown, a dozen piercings in her ears, her hair highlighted with streaks of cardinal red, as if he was the one confronting her in his underwear, before she moved onto Spencer, who’s face seemed to be getting hotter by the second as he forced his eyes away from her bare legs. 

“Are you guys strippers? Did someone send strippers to my door?” She asked, strawberry gum smacking between her lips as her gaze seemed to finish mulling over Spencer’s tall form and returned to Morgan.

“Emily sent us.” Reid said shortly, the music blaring in his ears making it difficult to focus on what it was she was saying, “As co-workers, no-not strippers. We’re with the FBI,” 

He hated loud noises anyway, cringed at the sound of particularly cutting rock songs, but since he’d developed his … problem, the dilaudid had him feeling like someone was clawing at his skull, tugging his brain through his ears.

“Emily sent you here?” She asked with a scoff, looking the two up and down again. They both easily caught the way her face hardened, “Are pigs flying today or something?” 

“We’re here to ask for your help on a case,” Spencer rushed through a sweaty brow, “Emily said you’d be able to act as a translator for us and some Russian citizens who are being targeted,” 

She sighed sceptically, crossing her arms and leaning against the door frame, “Any strippers or non-strippers can fraud an ID. Emily’s name was in the paper just the other week. I’m gonna need a little more than that,”

She keeps track of her sister despite the supposed distance between them. Spencer was quick to profile, his mind whirring at all the ways she reminded him of her sister down to the way she raised her eyebrows expectantly at them. 

“Emily was born October twelfth, 1970 at 7:12am, graduated from Garfield High School in 1989,” Spencer said as if reporting the weather, her eyes narrowing in on him all the more coldly, “She attended Chesapeake Bay University and speaks six languages, as I expect you do from moving so often with your mother. She coined your nickname Bugsy from your childhood love of ladybugs, which she said you grew out of by the time you turned eleven yet the name stuck, though you still like counting the spots to identify their species. Your parents split when you were five and your father moved in with his now wife, born September ninth-”

“Alright- alright. What are you, living in her walls?” She interrupted incredulously, before turning her attention to Derek who seemed to hide a chuckle with a cough. “Either you really are a stripper or you’re a terrible friend,”

“She loves Kurt Vonnegut,” Derek held his finger as if to prove her entirely wrong, although not much else came to him. Maybe he was a bad friend, he thought guiltily, or maybe he simply lacked an eidetic memory like the wonder boy next to him, who had been about to tell her how old she was when Emily’s pet betta fish died, “Slaughterhouse 5?”

Rolling her eyes, she grunted at them, kicking her door open for them to enter. 

“Everyone loves Vonnegut; only losers under a rock dislike Vonnegut,” She drawled, edging back into her room, the heavy bass rock growing in volume as they followed her in, “I’ll be ready in a second- Emily’s always bugging me about wearing pants,” She said vaguely, scanning around the dirty dorm, until she found one particular pair of jeans laying half under her bed, quickly yanking them up her legs. “Come in, come in.” 

She flicked the speakers way down to which Spencer took a breath of relief. His eyes fell to the laptop that had been set up on her desk, the five different textbooks littered around the spare space, energy drinks and empty mugs filling the cracks where he could barely see the generic white of the table top, his nose crinkling. About as gross as he’d expect from a college student. 

“Emily said your Russian was pretty good,” Derek made conversation, his eyes wandering over the various posters plastered over her walls, some fraying round the edges from where she had likely been moved from bedroom to bedroom when the Prentiss’s inevitably had to move country again. 

“Yeah,” She snarked, pulling a nicer top over her head, “Kinda tends to happen when you live in Russia,”

Morgan raised his eyebrows to Spencer who seemed to give him the same look back, though the latter was biting back a snicker at her words. 

How in the hell was she the Ambassador’s daughter?

–

“This all involves Russian Mafia, it’s really beefed up here the last ten years or so,” Agent Cramer, a tall, slim man who looked entirely overwhelmed by the workload on his shoulders reported, as she listened intently. 

She had been somewhat de-briefed in the car, Emily messaging her for the first time since Christmas, the message a simple: “Have you met with Morgan and Reid yet? Make sure to put on pants,” to which she sent her a thumbs up emoji. She didn’t have much to say to her at the moment, barely even knew her sister anymore. 

“It started off mainly in New York and LA but they send lieutenants from the old country,” Cramer went on, and she caught Reid scratching his arm beneath his shirt. She knew it was mozzy weather, and he was already under the blaring sun in a little sweater, it wouldn’t surprise her if he felt a bit prickly. 

“Pahkans,” She interrupted, the man named Gideon shooting her a glance as she dug through her purse. 

“Your Mom do much work about the Mafia?” He asked, as she produced a clear nail varnish. 

“Here and there, I had to sit with her in her office for a whole Summer once when I got caught sneaking out. Picked up a few things, though,” She said, holding the polish out to Spencer, nodding to his arm, “Here. Supposed to help bug bites,”

He looked at her as if he wanted to say something, perhaps question her sources for such an old wives tale, but he stopped himself quickly, taking the varnish out of her hand with a dejected nod. 

“Thankyou,” He muttered, shoving it in his pocket. 

Three months he’d been in this rabbit hole. She had noticed it in a matter of hours. 

“They open up branch offices in other cities. Baltimore, Saint Louis, Chicago, Dallas, the list goes on,” Cramer added, nodding at her words, “They’re mainly offshoots of the Odessa Mafia and they’re especially tough to crack from a law enforcement standpoint. I mean beside being well organised with sophisticated technical equipment, there’s Vory v Zakone to contend with,” 

“The thieves code, eighteen principles they live by,” Reid jumped in before she could, to which she nodded as Gideon looked to her for more. 

“It means ‘thief in law’, or ‘thief with code’. It's a system of repeatedly jailed convicts that have been crowned or ‘made’ with a strict list of ideals, breaking them usually means death,” She explained, kicking a stone between her feet. 

“It’s like bible to these guys. We’re not gonna be turning any of them informer anytime soon,” Cramer said. Gideon seemed to tune the three of them out however, his gaze locking on the house across the street, where a curtain twitched, and a man’s face appeared in the window, watching the crime scene with guilt. 

“Then we’ll need a witness who will talk,” Gideon replied, heading straight towards the neighbour who seemed just a little too invested in what was happening, much more than a concerned third party should be. Though, she had barely noticed, digging through her purse once more for chapstick. 

“So, you study Russian or something?” Cramer asked as she applied it gently, Spencer swore he could smell the cherry flavour from where he stood beside her. 

“I lived in Moscow until I was six, moved back to France, then back to Italy, then Algeria for a bit. Bounced around Europe for a bit longer, but I still speak better Russian than anything else,” She clarified, and she saw Cramer’s eyebrows shoot up, “Military brat except I don’t get the cool discount at the store,” 

“You must have had a lot of friends though, going to so many schools,” Spencer added, and though there was nothing teasing about his tone, she laughed sharply anyway. 

“You’re funny,” She snarked, but smiled at him anyway.

Spencer had never been called funny in his life. ‘Funny looking’, ‘funny sounding’ maybe, but never funny. 

In fact he was so confused by what she had meant, whether it had been a taunt or genuine that he almost missed the sound of the whole street locking their front doors, dead bolting their lives away when a black prius, an expensive one at that, pulled through the street and swerved into park next to them. 

“Guess who,” Cramer bit, her eyes ripping away from where Gideon had the door slammed in his face. 

Detective Cramer aged by about five years when two tall men got out of the luxury car, opening the door for a shorter man in the back seat, their faces thunder. 

“You familiar with them?” She asked, shoulder brushing against Spencer as she turned to watch the men approach, entirely aware of the .9mm on each of their hips. 

“Arseny Lysowsky,” The detective identified, his voice cold, eyeing the two men who flanked the leader, towering over them. 

“Agent Cramer, how are you?” Lysowsky smiled at him, which oddly enough seemed somewhat real, as he also took stock of the three other people around him. His eyes lingered on her for a moment, noting her lack of gun and badge, trying to decipher if she was local or just a very unprepared fed. 

“Lysowsky, what brings you out?” Cramer asked, a tightness to his tone, his hand all too eager to grab his own pistol. 

“I heard Chernuses had problems,” He kept it vague, didn’t reveal too much, and looked back at the victim’s house with a scorned frown. 

“How did you hear that?” Gideon challenged, stance unwavering as the mob leader turned to meet his cold gaze. 

“And you are?” He asked, a sinister smile on his face that flipped her stomach. She didn’t like the tension that had overcome the little patch of sidewalk they took up, and she was quick to notice how Spencer moved towards her. 

He, by far, wasn’t the best shot on the team, but he was sure Hotch and Prentiss would have his and Morgan’s heads if any harm came to her. 

“Churneses said they hadn’t told anyone,” Agent Gideon ignored his question, hands firmly planted on his hips. If he was unnerved by the criminal in front of him, he never showed it, not even when Lysowsky’s grin widened horribly. 

“It is a small community. Word gets out,” He said simply, looking past him to the neighbours house that had kicked Gideon to the curb, “Are you a friend of Gorban’s?”

A second of silence passed between them, neither of them backing down from the moral standoff they’d engaged in. 

“Mr Gorban wouldn’t talk to me,” Gideon admitted, and Arseny only smiled again, flicking a look at the house behind him, as if hearing his dog had obeyed without command. 

“Would you like me to talk to him for you?” The threat was there clear as day, clear enough to have Gideon’s eyes narrow, “I can’t promise something will come of it,” 

“You!” In a second, Natalya, the victim she’d briefly met when Morgan had pulled up around an hour before, had stormed out of her house, her black kitten heels clicking against the concrete, “Where’s my father? He has my father!” 

“Wait a minute,” Derek called, restraining her where she stood, trying to pull his muscled arm from her shoulder, “Do you know he has your father?” 

“He’s responsible for all of this,” She spat, her eyes cold as she glared at the three men with vitriol hate, “Why everyone’s afraid, him and his animals,” She threw a hand up to his bodyguards that seemed barely contained by Cramer’s silencing hand. 

“I am only here to help,” Lysowsky replied, confident and calm in his words, though not as taunting as the agents would have thought, as if he truly cared for her.

A vast difference to the sadistic mob boss Cramer’s team had painted him to be. 

“Help?” She laughed woefully, tears in her eyes, “You’re a dog,” 

“Natalya,” Arseny said in a warning, the way a teacher would to a student, as her breath rattled in her chest through a weep. 

“How exactly can you help them?” Bugsy braved to speak, Gideon and Reid both flashing her a look. She’d always had trouble holding her tongue. 

Lysowsky turned his attention to her then, his eyes running down her figure, still deciphering whether she was armed; she looked much too young to be an agent. 

“In any way that they’d like me to, darling,” He replied, the disdain in her frown clearly not deterring him in the slightest, though again the act of concern held up in his own grimace, “As I said this is a small community. If one is in pain, we’re all in pain.”

Natalya weeped behind Morgan, sniffling as the boss made his way over to her, “Natalya, [you didn’t have to bring in outsiders],” 

The younger woman’s ears pricked up as he spoke in his native language, Spencer’s eyes flicking to her from behind his sunglasses. 

“[Let me help you],” He continued, taking a step towards Natalya, unthreatening yet she saw Morgan tense, his fingers twitching towards his gun. 

“[My family will never come to you for help],” Natalya hissed back, also in Russian, her face contorted in disgust, “[Get away from my house],” 

“[You are not right, Natalya],” He replied, yet again the concern in his eyes was either genuine or very well faked, “[You have made the wrong decision],” 

Taking a step away from the victim that wept with a scorned sneer, he looked back to the agents, noting the way the youngest of them glared at him hotly, before retreating to his car. 

“What did he say? Did he threaten you, Natalya?” Morgan asked, the woman watching the group of men drive away, as if Mr Chernus wasn’t still missing and they hadn’t just bumped themselves up to number one of the suspects list. “Talk to us and we can do something about it,”

“He said I made the wrong decision,” She said wetly, frustration turning on Derek as he pushed her for an answer, “I hope I didn’t,” 

With that she stormed off back into her house, the same stomping of her kitten heels in her wake, leaving the agents to all look between one another before they simultaneously turned to look at Bugsy, questions hovering on all of their lips. 

“What did he say exactly?” Gideon asked without frills, a hand rubbing his brow. Relaying the information, the men’s faces all drew into frowns as they heard Lysowsky’s parting statement. Gideon huffed, turning to Morgan and gesturing for him to follow Natalya inside. 

“Morgan, keep an eye on her, Reid and I are going to Cramer’s office to look over the files,” He looked at her then, worry lines littering his otherwise friendly face, damn near scowling as she looked over at him, “You are here to interpret, you understand? You do not speak to the suspects, that’s our job.” He growled, watching her with disappointment, the same tone a father used when scolding a petulant child, “Do you have any idea how much danger you could put yourself in? These guys won’t hesitate to take you out the second we’re not around, kid,” 

“But-” She started with a bite, though her whole fight left her when he silenced her with a raised hand. 

“Buts are for cigarettes, kiddo,” He interrupted, and Spencer winced slightly, knowing he’d heard that one a few hundred times when he’d first started under Gideon and had yet to mature entirely. Reid watched something rebellious flare in her eyes, and he worried for a moment she might just slap his boss for the patronising tone he took, “Just keep your mouth shut, you’re doing great so far,” 

She opened her mouth to protest, only to then register his words entirely and stay silent once more, appreciating his praise with a guilty smile. For once, she listened. 

–

The grandfather clock chimed to tell them it was merely 11am; two hours until the unsub would start cutting more if they didn’t get the ransom fee, two hours to figure out who wanted Natalya’s family to suffer. 

Said woman paced her living room at the sound of the hour, as Bugsy picked over the knick knacks on her fireplace, a small smile teasing her lips when she saw a picture of three small children grinning toothily at the camera. 

She had never gotten any photo’s similar, Emily being fourteen years older. The majority of their childhood photos consisted of a very grumpy teenager holding her baby sister that seemed to squirm in the tight, formal dresses Elizabeth Prentiss had forced them into, identical scowls on their faces as they were made to sit for the picture. 

There were some good memories, ones where Emily let herself be a sister and not a mom, where she would put makeup on her for fun and do her hair, let her have all the clothes out her wardrobe she thought looked nice, reading to her before bed, even letting her sister keep her pet corn snake when she left home for good. 

But now, it seemed like she was too caught up in her super serious grown up job to give a shit that her sister lived just an hour away. Still messaged each other for holidays, but the last few times she’d braved a call to the eldest Prentiss, it had gone unanswered. They argued the majority of the time they spoke, or there was an awkward long silence in between words, whichever was worse, but they each knew the other would come running if they were to ever need them so desperately. 

“Are you hungry? I could make something?” Natalya offered kindly, Derek having a poke through her collection of books that sat on the end table, though he’d have a tough job reading them as she’d already caught most of them were in her home language. 

“Oh, no thanks. I’m fine,” He replied with a small smile, putting down the books to calm the clearly on edge woman that looked to the twenty-something year old hopefully. 

She shook her head, “I’m good, thanks,” which seemed to deflate her entirely as she sat next to Derek with a sigh.

“I guess I’m like my mother. When she’s upset, she cooks,” Natalya said with a sad huff of a laugh, running a hand through her short, dark hair. 

“Yeah, mine does too. I think that’s just a mom thing,” He replied, and Bugsy felt the two of them look at her as her finger traced the old brass ornaments gently, “How about you, baby Prentiss?” 

She snorted, “You’re kidding, right?” smiling bitterly, “My mom never cooked for us, she said we needed to figure it out for ourselves rather than relying on the staff. Didn’t stop her from trying to end world hunger though,” 

It wasn’t lost to Morgan the way her eyes trained on the picture of Natalya and her mother, cuddled together with genuine love in their embrace, the snarky humour as she spoke, the same longing Emily seemed almost too good at hiding from them. 

“Your mother is a great woman,” Natalya complimented, though she missed the way the girl’s face steeled over, chewing her bottom lip as if to stop herself from snapping at the woman who meant well. She said nothing. “Where is your mother?” She turned her attention back to Derek who seemed the more talkative of the two of them. 

“Chicago. That’s where I’m from,” He replied, watching Bugsy turn away from the two of them to inspect more of the Chernus’s trinkets on their walls. 

“I’m from Dolgoprudny. Just North of Moscow.” Natalya replied. Opening her mouth to add something else, she was cut off by a knock at the door and the three of them froze in their place. 

“Are you expecting someone?” Morgan asked Natalya in a hushed tone, reaching for his gun and heading for the door. 

She shook her head, “No,” She whispered back. Morgan pulled the curtain back the smallest inch to see a small blonde boy staring back, a box in his hands and a bored look on his face. 

It all happened too fast from there, Natalya opening the door for the neighbourhood kid, opening the box to see a decapitated ear, the blood fresh and pooling in the bottom of the box. It couldn’t have been taken longer than an hour or so ago, unless they were keeping the parts on ice. 

Bugsy’s hand slapped over her mouth, Natalya’s scream piercing through her as she shoved the box into Derek’s hands, fleeing to the toilet, and she heard the woman retching. Part of her felt the same nausea settle in her stomach, looking away from the body part with a wince as Derek got straight on the phone to Gideon. 

“They didn’t wait, man. They sent a box with-” He swallowed thickly, “With Mr Chernus’s ear inside.”

Gideon replied, and whatever it was, it had Derek looking back to her. He agreed, hanging up the phone and rooting through his pockets, producing a set of rattling keys, holding them out for you between the tips of his fingers. 

“Gideon wants you, kid. He said they’re at the Little Kiev restaurant, they’re going to talk to Lysowsky,” Morgan said, grimacing as he held the ear away from her, “You sure you’ll be okay to drive?” 

“I’d rather be on the road than look at what’s in that box,” She said in disgust, taking the keys and heading out to the car.

She thought it best for everyone she didn’t tell him she hadn’t yet got her licence as she made her way over to the restaurant. 

-

“Reid and I will do the talking, just see if anything he’s saying connects with Vory v zakone, think you got that?” Gideon instructed her the second she got out of the car, taking the keys and handing them back to Reid who gave her a small nod. 

“We think the reason it was Mr Chernus who was targeted has something to do with the code,” Reid explained, his hands in his pockets as the three of them approached the restaurant, “You said earlier you understood the tenants,” 

“Why me, though? I thought I was just translating?” She repeated Gideon’s earlier words, almost cocky that they needed her.

“Lysowsky would feel the need to show face in front of men like Morgan and Cramer, even in front of Natalya since she lives locally. Between the three of us, he had less reputation to uphold, less so with a young woman like yourself,” Reid added, holding the door open for her to go in front. 

And so there she was, trailing behind Gideon and Reid over to where Lysowsky sipped a spoonful of borscht, as she tried not to marvel at the grandeur of the establishment inside. Clearly, Arsney had money to build a place like this, and wasn’t afraid to be flashy about it either, that much was apparent from the other clientele that tended to their beers around their own tables, Rolex watches and designer shoes adorning nearly every one of them. She hated to think of how many ears or fingers those suits had cost. 

“Would you like something to eat?” He asked, a chunk of bread in his hand dipping into the thick sauce, seemingly unbothered that they were there, “This borscht is exquisite, it’s my mother’s old country recipe,” 

“Didn’t you forsake all your relatives when you swore the thieves code?” Reid asked, which she guessed was hit foot in to get Lysowsky to talk. 

“I didn’t forsake her recipes,” Lysowsky replied with a shrug, looking to her where she seemed to be staring at his plate, “Borscht?” 

She shook her head, her nose wrinkling, “Much preferred stroganoff, mom used to force me to have borscht to make sure I ate my veggies,”  

His eyebrows raised, surprise written over his face, before he gave a short laugh. 

“[Where are you from]?” He asked in his mother tongue, gesturing for the three of them to sit down, though his eyes lit up as he watched her carefully. 

“[I was born in DC, but my mother worked in Moscow for a few years],” She answered shortly, and he seemed to find it even funnier that the near child they’d brought along on their case spoke as fluently as he did. 

Laughing with a heavy hand smacking on the table, he gestured to a nearby waiting staff to come over. 

“What are you having then, borscht for the gentle man?” He looked at Reid and Gideon, the former shaking his head while Gideon nodded with an awkward smile. 

“I’d love a taste,” He said, though any enthusiasm seemed to have drained out of his voice. 

“And what is the little lady having?” Lysowsky asked, his eyes falling back to her, as she straightened in her seat. 

She chanced a quick glance to Gideon, who nodded at her to play his game. She had not expected to be so deep in criminal territory when they’d said they needed a translator, and truly they hadn’t planned on getting her in the field until they realised she would know much more about this than they would.

“Do you have sharlotka?” She asked, returning his smile wearily as he clicked at the waiter who all but bolted to the kitchen. 

“A sweet tooth. I like it,” Arseny replied, shovelling a heap of beets into his mouth, “Our favourite was always Leningradsky,”

“Ours?” She prompted, giving a polite thanks to the waiter who returned too quickly with a slice of cake. She caught Spencer glancing at the bowl with intrigue, the hunger clear on the quiet man’s face. Gently pushing the bowl and clean spoon towards him, he flicked a look up at her, “Apple cake,” She whispered, sending him a small smile, “Really yummy with the sugar on top,” 

“Mine and my mother’s,” Arseny replied, though Gideon and Reid both caught how he paused before he replied, as if he had to think about the answer he was giving; the oldest tell that it wasn’t entirely true, “We didn’t have much when I was a boy, but that was always our dessert of choice,” 

She stopped for a mere second, missing the moment when Spencer spooned the tiniest bite of the cake into his mouth, trying to ignore the way his tongue exploded in the sweet, fruit taste. He hadn’t eaten anything properly in days, and maybe that was why it tasted so good, but more likely it was just the fact that everything sweet tasted even better when he was on his come downs. 

“We need to talk, Arseny,” Gideon interrupted, ignoring the way Spencer pined to go back in for a second mouthful, but chose to hand the bowl back to her with a small smile. 

“We are on first name basis?” Lysowsky asked, shaking his head, and she took a small bite of the sweet cake for herself, “I still don’t even know who you are,” 

“I think I understand something about this,” Gideon replied, his thumbs tapping together, the waiter returning with his borscht, “You have a problem,” 

“I do?” The pahkan titled his head at the agent, the annoyance clear on his face. 

“That’s why you came to the Chernus’ house this morning,” Gideon answered, unbothered as he began to scoop the borscht onto the spoon, the apple cake in her own mouth going down a treat. 

She kept her head down, took tiny bites of the dessert that certainly tasted like a fresh baked sharlotka. But her thoughts lingered on what Lysowsky had said, about his own favourite pudding. 

It made no sense that he would have ever tasted Leningradsky shortbread, not for the time that he was born, nor with the amount of money he claimed his family lacked. Infact, the way he fully pronounced his vowels, the akanye, the stress he put on certain parts of his words, all pointed to the same dialect you’d heard back in Moscow, more central than anything else. 

So how on earth would he have eaten the so-called ‘Royal Cake’ that had only been made eight hours from there, in the town it grew its name from. 

There was something glaringly obvious about his story missing. 

“A man like me?” She tuned back into the conversation, swallowing another mouthful down as Gideon took another bite himself, though it seemed the topic had turned sour as Arseny wiped his mouth with the corner of his napkin. 

“Four watchtowers and a convict signifies a stay in prison,” Spencer cut in, nodding towards the tattoos branded across his knuckles, “Each one of those crosses symbolises an individual sentence,” 

“Twenty three years in prison in the Ural mountains,” 

But she was still stuck on what it was she was missing. It had been such an odd thing to lie about, particularly when he’d even admitted himself that they hadn’t had much money, so he clearly hadn’t been lying to fake a reputation. 

So why lie?

She was ripped out of her stumped silence when Natalya entered the restaurant, her voice grabbing the men’s attention immediately. 

“Mr Lysowsky. You said you could help me,” She said, her purse over her shoulder and her own car keys gripped tightly in her hand as if she’d all but thrown herself out the vehicle to get there faster. 

“Don’t you already have help,” Lysowsky snapped, clearly Gideon had dug under his skin enough to garner a reaction. 

“I made a mistake,” Natalya replied, barely meeting Bugsy’s gaze as she stared at her from her seat at the table. “I talked to my father on the phone,” 

The girl frowned at her, “That’s a lie,” It came out before she could hold herself, brows furrowed at whatever it was she was trying to pull. Gideon said her name in a reprimand, though he too was looking at the woman as if she’d grown a second head. 

“Thankyou for coming, but I don’t need your help,” The woman met her confused look with a saddened expression, nodding to her solemnly. 

Leave it alone, she seemed to be saying, there’s nothing more I want you to do. 

And with that, the two of them left the restaurant, Natalya walking by his side obediently, her purse tucked in close under her arm, as Morgan and Cramer filed in from the parking lot, watching their only leads drive away without a fight. 

–

The team were quick to head back to Natalya’s home, only to find the ear missing and the finger gone too, the only evidence left of any crime being committed leaving with the victim’s daughter herself. 

“She’s not here, and the garbage was never taken out,” Morgan said with a grimace as he walked down the front steps to meet the four of them on the sidewalk. 

“Her dad just went missing, surely we can cut the girl some slack-” Bugsy words were hidden in a huff, rolling your eyes at the man who cut a glance to her. 

“No, no. When Hotch first talked to us, he said she noticed her father’s car in the driveway when she took the garbage out,” Morgan explained, his shades blocking the way the cogs turned behind his dark eyes. 

“Right?” Reid asked, his own sunglasses now covering his eyes that winced at the brightness, surrounding them.

“Garbage can in the kitchen is completely full, she never took it out.” 

“She lied,” Gideon said with finality, the penny beginning to drop for him too. 

“She could be half way back to Dolgo-whatever by now,” Morgan scoffed, his arms smacking against his side as the lightbulb went off over her head, the final puzzle piece falling into place. 

“Dolgoprudny?” Spencer asked, exchanging a glance with Cramer, “Isn’t that where Lysowsky’s from-”

“Yes, YES, of course!” She exclaimed, grabbing onto Spencer’s arm as he spoke. 

He looked at her with wide eyes, not that she could see since his shades blocked the way, only to feel her shake him harder in the midst of her enthusiasm. Part of him wanted to rip his arm out of her grip, waiting for the sickness to crawl up his throat at a strangers germs touching him, but the oddest part of him reasoned she had the same germs as Emily did, that the fifty percent DNA the women shared negated the fact she was a stranger, just as it did when he met Jack. Jack had Hotch germs. Bugsy had Emily’s. He didn’t feel so sick thinking of it like that. 

“I knew I was missing something,” She said, turning to Gideon, “He was lying before, about his favourite dessert. There was no way he could have had Leningradsky with his mother. Given his age, at that time in Soviet Russia, shortbread was incredibly expensive, only extremely wealthy families could have eaten it. That, and given the Central dialect he speaks in, I’d pinpointed he lives somewhere near or around Moscow, which means there was no way he was eating that cake considering it was only ever baked in one shop at first, one way up in Leningrad, where St Petersburg is now, like nine hours away from Moscow-” 

“What’s your point?” Cramer asked, tired of the somewhat slew of thoughts she’d been saving until she knew for sure what she meant. 

“Before when he said it was ‘our favourite’, I don’t think he was talking about him and his mother,” She explained, looking to see if Spencer at least understood what she was getting at. 

“It was him and his own child…” Spencer finished, as Morgan’s phone began ringing.

“Yeah, what?” He asked, the frustration clear in his tone that they were all still without the evidence needed to pin it on Lysowsky, “You’re sure? Uh-huh. Okay, thanks doll,” 

The four of them looked at him expectantly as he nodded to her, “Garcia just got into the bank’s system, somebody wired 500 thousand dollars into the account ten minutes ago,”

“Who wired it?” Spencer asked, though he was still reeling from the way she’d touched him, the way her voice went up about five octaves and a dozen decibels.

“She didn’t say, but the name on the account is Lyov Fulenko. She says that’s Lysowsky’s wife’s maiden name. Fulenko.” Morgan replied, and her brows furrowed. 

“Why did she bring us into this?” Gideon asked, though the solemn look on his face said he already knew, “Because she needed to put pressure on the other victim,” 

Gideon headed towards Mr Gorban’s house once more, though it was clear he had already sketched out in his head who was their unsub and Natalya’s involvement, he simply needed the confirmation. 

Morgan clapped a hand on her back, “Nice job, baby Prentiss. Those were some mean profiling skills out there,”

She frowned at him, scoffing,  “I’m not a profiler, that’s Emily’s job. It was just basic linguistics really; more a display of how I need to lay off cake for a while.”

The man kissed his teeth with a grin, “Don’t put yourself down. What’s your degree even in?”

She shrugged, picking under her nails for something to do, “Individualised genomics and health.” She said as if it were child’s play, though Spencer’s head shot to her. 

“Biotechnology?” He asked, and she glanced at him with a nod, “What’s your thesis on?” 

Gideon had returned by the time he’s asked, and began corralling the two of them back to the car, “We’re heading back to the restaurant. We need to speak with Lysowsky again,” 

But it had fallen on deaf ears as Spencer looked at her expectantly. 

“Just some new research into prenatal screening, nothing too fun,” She simpered, climbing into the back seat as he nodded with her. 

“I read a fascinating paper on the uses of hCG in a woman’s body-” 

“Reid,” Gideon cut him off with a short glance from the front seat, “Continue this conversation once we’ve found Mr Chernus alive,” 

Spencer blushed, feeling like a kid caught in the cookie jar, “Sorry, sir,” He looked over at her, only to see her hiding a smile to herself. 

He thinks it was then he’d decided Emily had been wrong about her.

-

“You paid the ransom already,” Gideon said plainly, the four of them trailing behind him as he followed Lysowsky to a small seating area in the front of the restaurant. She could tell the whole way Spencer had been itching to ask her more questions about her paper, barely contained as his fingers had twitched in his lap, but he seemed to straighten himself out once she’d reached the restaurant, “You paid all the ransoms,”

“Sit,” The boss ordered, barely glancing at them as he held his strong whiskey up.

“Are they going to kill Mr Chernus?” Morgan asked, cutting to the chase as Lysowsky spared him a bored glance.

“No,” He replied shortly, the look on his face about as grumpy as when they’d left. 

“The account is in the name of Lyov Fulenko. Lyov is a man’s name.” Spencer input, crossing his arms as the boss glared at him, “A son’s name. Vory v Zakone. Never have a family of your own. No wife. No children.”

“Lyov,” He looked at her then, gesturing to her with the glass of strong liquor, “You know what it means?”

“The Lion,” She replied gravely, steeling herself against his dark eyes. 

“No one else would be so stupid,” Lysowsky ran a hand over his weathered face, swigging his drink as if it was the only thing keeping him talking. “At first it didn’t mean much. It was a way of letting him earn his own money. I could afford it, it came from the fund. And no one questions the use of the fund-”

“Where is he?” Gideon asked, his elbows on his knees as he leaned in.

“What else could I do?” He was ignored, “I couldn’t admit I wasn’t blessing the kidnappings, I couldn’t even admit my son existed.” He huffed when he saw Gideon’s face unmoving from the glower, his question still unanswered, “Chernus will be home in a few minutes. You should be there, he will need medical attention,” He shooed them away, with his final words, drink sloshing in his hand. His face darkened, impossibly so, and the five of them looked at him, something sad and remorseful shining back. 

“What are you gonna do?” She asked, though she had a feeling she already knew the answer. 

“Vory v Zakone.” He said heavily, nodding to her, “We take care of our own troubles.”

It was a silent journey back to the Chernus’ house. 

-

Morgan and Reid pulled up to the campus, the younger girl in the back seat almost dozing off with the rhythmic hum of the engine, the evening sun much nicer on Spencer’s sensitive eyes. 

“This is you, baby Prentiss,” Derek’s voice jolted her out of the half sleep she was in, straightening herself from where she had her head pressed against the window. 

“Thanks,” She muttered, rubbing her eyes and unbuckling herself as they did the same, assuming they wanted to walk her back to her dorm since it had gotten dark, “I’ll be okay on my own, campus security should be out by now,”

“You sure?” Reid asked, flicking his watch up to his eyes to see the meagre 6:13pm staring back at him, “I thought they started at 7,”

She blinked at him, her eyebrows quirking for a moment, “How do you know that?”

“Johns Hopkins was my backup option- well actually it was my third, I much preferred Caltech’s curriculum, Yale was my second-” He started, flicking a glance to her where she waited for him to finish, “Not that Johns was bad, there were just better- alternative options out there-” 

“Don’t shit your pants, I’m hardly the dean of the university,” She chuckled indignantly patting them both on the shoulder before sliding over to open the door, “Nice meeting you both, I’ll just get back to my mediocre college with my poor curriculum, nothing like the solid gold bathrooms at Caltech-”

“I never said that!” She laughed again, with her whole chest, at his defensive tone as she stepped out the car, hand on the door to shut it behind her. 

Leaning down to give them both a wave goodbye, Derek’s voice stopped her again, “Baby Prentiss, do us all a favour and enrol yourself into forensics, we need more people on our team,”

Smirking at him, she shook her head, “Very funny. Never gonna happen. I like my little slides and samples, thankyou,” 

Slamming the door on the two of them she headed for the front gates, swinging her purse over her shoulder. She was stopped by a hand on her shoulder, and she quickly realised she’d been too tired to even realise a set of footsteps jogging after her. 

Maybe she should have taken that walk home after all. 

Whirling around, her eyes widened as Spencer had clearly not been leader of the track team as he was half out of breath just from the few feet he’d covered, though she reckoned she could have guessed that seeing his lean ribs beneath his shirt.

He shoved a business card in her face as he caught his breath, though it was more just his name and credentials followed by a phone number. 

“I-I don’t have email otherwise I would-” He huffed, scratching his forehead as she frowned and looked at him.

“I’ve never been hit on via business card before,” She bit her lip with a smile, reading over the card again as he choked on his words even more than before.

“N-no, I-” He spluttered, ignoring the way Morgan beeped the horn for him, seemingly in a debate with a ticket metre that had caught him parked on yellow, “If you needed us for anything, or if you needed a second pair of eyes for your thesis, I’m happy to help,”

“You don’t have faith in the dummy that got into Johns?” She asked, and his head couldn’t shake fast enough, though he seemed to catch her teasing and shared her smile, “Thanks, Dr Reid,” 

“Spencer’s just fine,” He said, giving her a small nod and a wave as Morgan’s palm bounced on the horn a dozen times. She flashed him one more smile, pocketing his number and heading back to her dorm, wondering what the doctor would think about the paper due in tomorrow she’d yet to get started on.

+1. The one where you get arrested.

The case had been heavy. They’d felt it in the car on the way back to headquarters. A little girl, molested and groomed by her own uncle, his own wife covering for him. 

His mother always told him love makes you do crazy things, but Spencer hoped that whatever part of him worth loving would at least stay sane by the time he found the one. He was loyal to his team, to his mother, but that was where he drew the line. He was loyal to his family, undoubtedly so. 

Yet so was Emily. 

The call came to the second SUV, her phone set up to hands free mode, quickly flicking to answer the call on speaker, the other half of the team ahead of them on the freeway. 

“Prentiss, speaking. Who is this?” She spoke clearly to the unknown number, her knuckles going white at the wheel when she heard a nervous laugh.

“It’s me,” Her sister mumbled through the speaker, “You wouldn’t by any chance be near DC would you?” 

She huffed, cursing the knack Prentiss women had for showing up at the worst times. 

“Can’t this wait, I’m on the clock,” Emily hissed, her finger edging towards the ‘End Call’ button, “I’ll call you after,”

“Wait, wait, don’t hang up!” As if sensing her movements, she all but screeched, “This was my one phone call, they won’t let me have another,” 

The car went silent for a moment, Spencer’s eyes narrowing on the dash from his place in the passenger seat, JJ also leaning forward from the back with a frown. 

Emily grit her teeth, her upper lip twitching the way it did when she was mad. 

“What do you mean by one phone call? Where are you?” She bit in a cautious tone, though knowing how reckless Bugsy tended to be, she had a pretty good idea. 

The hesitation on the other end of the line was palpable, as was the way she awkwardly cleared her throat. 

“Fairfax County Jail,” She murmured sheepishly, “But it wasn’t my fault, these assholes don’t know what they’re talking about, I swear-”

“Stay there and keep your mouth shut,” Emily ordered, her expression furrowing into a sneer, “And for the love of god don’t antagonise the officers,” 

The agent didn’t even wait for a response, knowing it would probably be something snarky, her mind already racing at what the hell her sister could have done this time, every worst possible explanation jumping to the forefront. 

“I’ll call Hotch and tell him to turn around,” JJ offered, her fingers already searching her contacts for their boss, as Emily sighed through her nose. 

“Tell him not to worry, I’ll drop you guys back to headquarters, make my way there myself,” She said, picking the skin of her nail softly with her thumb. 

“By the time we’ve reached Quantico, visiting times will be over and she’ll have to stay the night,” Spencer pointed out, his own surprise evident. Sure, she had certainly been a personality when they had met, but a criminal seemed a stretch. 

“Maybe it would teach her a lesson,” Emily mused, shaking her head to herself, “Who am I kidding, that psycho would Shawshank her way out of there by dawn,”

“You don’t actually think she would hurt anyone do you?” JJ said, the dial tone ringing out from the phone she held to her ear. 

“Wouldn’t put it past her. She once cut a girl's pigtail off for wearing the same dress as her on her birthday,” Emily winced as Spencer’s eyebrows shot into his hairline. 

“I thought getting swirlied was bad,” He muttered, watching out the window as Emily made a U-turn at the traffic lights. He and the now twenty three year old had been bouncing research papers back and forth for a few months, the odd one every week, Bugsy even once joking it was much more interesting and riveting than foreplay, which had his face red hot at his desk.

She was like that, he’d quickly realised, had a vulgar sort of humour about her, yet he couldn’t help the snigger that came out whenever he’d receive one of his papers back through the mail with pink writing scrawled all over his ideas. The little hearts that dotted her exclamations whenever she wrote “AMAZING!”, the odd time she’d written “sexy ideas, doctor Reid” which he’d come to understand meant it was really good. He’d even gotten back the drawing at the end of the paper of a stickman of the two of them, his hair a curly scribble and a purple tie which told him immediately who was who, her line of a hand pointing at his caricature with the speech bubble, “everyone point and wave at the smart man,” which had made him laugh. 

She was odd, toeing the line between childish and witty, nothing like the scholars he usually worked with, and the writing he usually sent back on her papers were all in standard black ink, his own pharmacist handwriting staring back at him as he crammed in his every thought of her research into the margins. If she couldn’t read it, she hadn’t said, but he liked to think she took notice of it all, even if it wasn’t strewn with stars and doodles and the occasional flirt he knew meant nothing. He knew her from her writing, knew her from her ideas that sometimes kept him up at night thinking more about them, but the two of them hadn’t spoken directly, most certainty hadn’t seen one another since that day with the Chernus’.

Emily hummed, fingers drumming on the wheel, entirely unaware of the thoughts rattling around in Spencer’s head, then again that’s how it always was, “I just pray to god she’s listened to me for once in her damn life and keeps quiet,”

-

“Fucking bitch. The nuns in Moscow hit harder than you,” She spat, blood dribbling from her split lip. She wasn’t entirely lying, but god did her mouth sing with pain as she tried to muffle a moan. 

“You got jokes, pig lover?” The other woman asked, a tattoo covering half her cheek, her nose crooked from the shiner the Prentiss girl had already given her. “Won’t be fucking laughing when I’m done, bitch,” The woman was quick to tackle the girl around her stomach, slamming her into the hard concrete of the holding cell. Bugsy felt her skull rattle, the wind whooshing from her chest as rough hands grab her shirt and pin her down harder. 

The younger girl reached the nerve under her opponent's armpit, the soft of her ribs, twisting until the woman gave a bark of shock, and she took the opportunity to shove her off, climbing on top of her as they both scrambled for some sort of control.

“I got one for you. What’s got a broken nose, a black eye and doesn’t know what’s good for her?” She swung twice as hard, the other women in the cell rattling against the bars as if watching a matador taunt a bull, the air thick with excitement as the two of them cursed eachother out.

Emily’s sigh was audible across the room as the wardens separated the cat fight, the largest of the officers all but grabbing her sister by the scruff of the neck like a feral beast, dragging her over with stubborn feet to where the BAU stood in the lobby, eyes widened at the state of her. 

“You better start acting your age, little girl. Mommy’s not gonna be around forever to save you,” The officer hissed in her ear, manhandling her over to where Emily glared daggers into the side of her head. She knew that look, it was eerily similar to mom’s that time she’d been caught sneaking out of the house, something in the warm brown of Emily’s eyes frosting over into a cold blackness. Fury. 

She chewed her words for a moment, waiting until the man had turned around with a grunt of acknowledgement to the badge Emily had flashed to get his attention, before she spoke. 

“She’s not my mom, she's my sister, dumbass-” Emily slapped a hand over her mouth, gripping her shoulder with the bear-like strength her jagged nails possessed when she was mad, the scoff of disgrace leaving her mouth as her team trailed behind the two of them. 

“What the hell happened, baby Prentiss?” Morgan asked, ignoring the way Emily’s heated gaze turned on him, “What’s got you so worked up?”

“Don’t entertain her, Morgan,” Emily seethed, all but shoving her into the back of the SUV. She looked up at her sister with an open mouth, the guilt flashing in her eyes as she wavered under the pointing finger Emily jabbed in her face, “Don't you even dare,” 

“But-” She stammered, cut off when she saw the glare intensified, if that had even been possible. 

“I don’t want to hear another word from you for the rest of the day unless you’re prepared to give me a good explanation why I’ve dragged my team out here to save your sorry ass,” Emily hissed, and the girl’s mouth bobbed a few times, feeling the rest of the team watching as she got thoroughly chewed out. 

“Wait-” Emily’s hand lingered at the car door, ready to slam it in her face as she rubbed her cuff over her chin, mopping up the damage. Her head tilted for a moment, hoping her sister had something good to say, only for it to be; “He just called you old, I hope you realise that,”

Emily’s gaze darkened, slamming the door shut with an anger she imagined her mother had kept warm for the past twenty three years, whirling around heatedly when she heard a snigger from one Derek Morgan. 

“Damn, mama, hear the girl out.” He said, slapping a hand on the woman’s shoulder as he passed, heading back to their own SUV, “Maybe she’ll surprise you,” 

If Emily was going to bite anything back, she didn’t. Instead she ran a hand over her brow, the group disbanding to their cars now the problem child had been picked up from daycare, except for Hotch who watched the older Prentiss with a scowl, despite the worry in his eyes. 

“Hotch, I’m so sorry, just take it off my timecard, I’ll cover all the costs,” She said shakily, her own frown adorning her face as she felt herself blush from embarrassment under her boss’s gaze. 

“I understand she’s your sister, but this was a gross misuse of agent time and resources, Prentiss,” He said, his gaze drifting to where Spencer sat next to the girl, pulling a packet of tissues and hand sanitizer out of his satchel while JJ rooted through her own purse for a plaster, “Don’t let it happen again,” 

Emily nodded vehemently, flushed with anger, her palms sticky as she wiped them on her jeans. 

“Absolutely sir. Believe me, this ever happens again, she’s on her own,” She replied, though they both knew she didn’t mean it. Emily would never. 

He nodded stonily, deciding quickly that it was punishment enough that she felt so ashamed, he knew from his years of arguments with Sean what it was like to have a sibling stray so far. 

“We can fill out reports in the morning, just get Reid and JJ home,” Hotch said, putting a tentative hand on her shoulder as he passed her to head towards his own vehicle, “And try not to kill each other in the company car. It doesn’t look good on paperwork,” 

She beat off the smile on her lips as she got back into the driver's seat, the air that engulfed the four of them foul as she glared over her shoulder and into the back. Spencer twitched in his seat uncomfortably, his hand still passing over tissues to the bloodied girl. 

“So, you gonna tell me what that was about?” Emily asked, her tone brittle and warning, not in the mood for any snarky response she could give, “Or is this old lady going to have to lay into you some more,” 

The smell of strong ethanol engulfed her nose as she held the soaked tissue to her face, frowning into her lap silently and avoiding the burning stare as Emily stuck the keys in the ignition and started the car.

“Let’s start with why you were there,” JJ input, the same tone of voice she used as when talking to victims, calm and motherly, unlike the pissed off snarl Emily gave, “You wanna tell us why you were arrested?”

“You two really gonna pull the good cop, bad cop on me?” She snapped, her lip swelling around the wound, tongue grazing it softly despite the heavy taste of the sanitizer.

Emily said her name in a warning, her last warning, and she knew better than to push her luck even more, the SUV pulling out of the station and onto the road. 

“I was just shopping for groceries,” She started, fiddling with the bloodied tissue, wincing under her tongue stroke, “Store clerk made a pass at me, I told him I wasn’t interested. So he put a pack of smokes in my handbag while I wasn’t looking; the alarms went off. I didn’t even know what was happening until security grabbed me at the door,” 

JJ flashed a glance at Emily, like two parents deciding an appropriate punishment, the brunette’s lips straightening out into a line. 

“You’re telling the truth?” She asked cautiously, glancing in the rear view mirror to see how her sister balled the mess of paper between her palms. 

Rolling her eyes, she gladly accepted the other packet of tissues Spencer slid over the leather seat between them. 

“I went out for milk and oranges, I was not looking to get picked up, Em,” She bit back, groaning when she felt it jostle the cut, “And certainly not for cigarettes, you know I only smoke on New Years,” 

Spencer looked at her with a frown, and she caught his confusion quickly, pulling another leaf of paper from the packet. 

“Emily and I had a rule after she caught me smoking when I was like fourteen, that we could have one cigarette between the two of us on New Years eve,” She explained, JJ also perking up to hear it, “So that by the time morning came around, it would be last year’s mistake, and it would be like it never happened,” 

JJ smiled to herself, remembering the time she caught Roz sneaking one of her dad’s cigarettes on the back porch back when she was just ten. She remembered the little secrets the two of them kept back then, held them even all these years later. 

“So how did that lead to, well,” JJ gestured to her lip, “That,” 

“Yeah, didn’t I specifically tell you to not antagonise anyone?” Emily chimed in, signalling she was changing lanes as they headed down the freeway for a second time that day.

“Technically you said not to antagonise the officers,” She pointed out, before Spencer had the chance to, shutting his mouth as he caught the glare Emily shot through the mirror.

“Keep talking,” The older Prentiss ordered, as Bugsy sighed and blotted her lip some more. 

“That woman, Mira I think her name was, anyway, she recognised me from that picture mom had us take on Independence Day, the one they put in The Hill, and she asked me if it was true my sister was a fed,” 

Emily’s fingers twitched at the wheel, knowing the status agents and even people associated with agents held in prisons; knowing just being a Prentiss in a jail cell held a big, dazzling price over her head that said ‘kill me, kill me!”

The air sucked out of the car, a look passing between JJ and Reid as they thought the same thing, waiting for her to go on. 

“So then you hit her?” Emily guessed, the bitterness slowly ebbing as she understood maybe her sister wasn’t as unruly as she thought. 

“No, I told her to leave me the fuck alone, but she said you guys sent her brother down for something a while back, and she asked again if my family were all Pigs,” She picked her nails, the blood stain on her sleeve staring back at her, “I told her if she didn’t stop calling you a Pig, I’d make her squeal like one. And then I hit her,” 

Emily tried to pretend she didn’t smile hearing that, her cheeks tightening, lips pulling down as she fended it off. 

“Is that good enough, officers, or will you be needing fingerprints?” The girl chimed after a moment, a weight seemingly lifted from the car as Emily quickly realised she had, for once, not been entirely at fault. 

“I want a handwritten apology to my boss for wasting his time,” Emily demanded, her unforgiving gaze softening when she saw her smile, “And you owe my team coffee,”

“I can do coffee, coffee coming right up,” She agreed, shoving the used tissues into her purse with a crooked smile, “It’s a date,”

Spencers ears turned red, looking over the seat at where she dabbed at her lip gently. She didn’t look much older for six months, but she had gotten her nose pierced since the last time he’d seen her, unless he just hadn’t noticed it before, and the streaks of red were slowly fading out into a blush pink that said it was old, and he wondered if she’d done it herself in that tiny little cubicle bathroom of hers she shared with the four other girls in her block. 

“You finished your stats papers yet?” He made polite conversation, though part of him was dying to know out of curiosity if she could crunch numbers and equations as well as she could in her own labs. 

“Got two more this week, they’re kicking my ass man,” She replied with a huff, and he didn’t think he’d ever been called ‘man’ by a woman before. He knew if he’d known her in college, ignoring the fact he would have been twelve, he would have thought she may just be the coolest person alive, “I miss my labs with my microscopes and watching all the little baby cells move around in the ethanol. Stats are like, just not sexy,” 

He smiled at her as she stared out the window, unaware of the way she’d managed to make DNA sound like a play pen full of kittens. He held off from telling her he found stats really quite sexy, knowing it would never sound the same coming from his mouth.

He pulled a leaf of the tissues from the packet, producing his own pen from his pocket and began doodling carefully so as not to rip the delicate canvas. 

Sliding it over to her after five minutes as Emily and JJ made conversation in the front seat, she didn’t care that the grin tugged on her split lip, the reaction was instant, she couldn’t stop it if she tried. 

Two stick men stared back at her, her hair a close match in texture and a childish triangle drawn as means of a dress, a very tall stick figure next to her patting her metaphorical head, a speech bubble coming from his mouth. 

“Maths is fun!” It said, and she flicked a glance at him, her smile the most genuine he’d seen yet. He just smiled back. 

+2. The one where you graduate

Emily felt the looks on her the moment JJ had mentioned Maryland. The case was a little under their pay grade, nothing more than a stalker, no bodies or bloodshed, but one very rattled woman that had turned to the communications liaison with fear for her life. 

With Hotch and Rossi in Boston helping a case of their own, the rest of the BAU had been twiddling their thumbs waiting for something to come across their desk. 

“This case is in my hands now, and if we do nothing and something happens to her,” JJ took a heavy breath, her eyes lingering on the three names Keri had given her in case of her untimely death, “I’ll be the one notifying her family,”

Derek, despite his own hesitations about using their time for a case like this, caved the moment he saw the guilt on the blonde’s face. 

“Okay,” He shuffled the papers into a pile, Emily and Spencer gathering their own resources on the case and standing from the round table. 

Luckily, one government SUV was more than enough to carry the four of them for the hour drive North, all of them well aware Hotch would flip if they used more funds than necessary.

JJ piled into the front beside where Morgan climbed into the driver’s seat, leaving Emily next to a particularly fidgety Reid. It took all of fifteen minutes of the man flicking a glance at her, his mouth quirking as if he were about to use it, before he thought better and looked out the window, and the whole thing would start again. 

Derek, the less shy about his thoughts of the two men, even glanced at her through the rear view mirror, before he too returned his gaze out the window silently. JJ shifted in her seat, knowing she had to tread carefully around mentioning Bugsy to Emily, particularly after the last time they’d seen her. Emily had said they’d grabbed coffee once or twice since then, but that was all she spoke about it, which left her team walking cracked eggshells at the thought of bringing her up. 

It seemed the three of them were bursting at the seams with the same thought, and it wasn’t until Reid cleared his voice, his puppy eyes stuck in his loop, that she had had enough. 

“Does anyone here have something to say?” Emily huffed, Derek immediately reaching to turn the radio up the same time that JJ flicked the AC on for something to do. Realising they weren’t easily broken, she turned to Spencer who already looked slightly guilty, thumbing at his sweater, “Reid?”

“Did you want to see your sister?” He asked without hesitation, as if the words had fallen out of him, “You know, since we’re so close on this case. It would be a good excuse to-”

“You did say she owed us a coffee,” JJ pointed out, spurred on by Spencer’s nerves, “Wouldn’t mind cashing in if we’re coming all this way.”

“Morgan, do you have anything to add?” Emily asked with raised brows, though she already knew what was coming.

Derek chewed over his thoughts a second, “I’m just saying, you only get to see your baby sisters grow up once- you know, and it couldn’t hurt to see her even if she runs rings around you with that smart mouth-”

“Shouldn’t we be focusing on the case?” Emily cut him off incredulously, but received three knowing looks back. She met JJ’s gaze where the woman had swivelled in her seat to talk to her, and Prentiss was fast to catch the buried grief in her best friend’s eyes. She knew it pained her to even bring up sisterhood, let alone watch Emily throw hers away for the sake of a decade and a half between them. It was the desperation in JJ’s face that did it, knowing she would give anything to spend just an hour with Roz one more time, that had her drawing her cell out her pocket and calling the contact with the little ladybug next to it, “Fine,”

As a profiler she would have been tempted to ignore the way Spencer smiled into his lap; as a sister, her eyes narrowed at him.

The phone rang surprisingly only once before she answered, and she heard an unnaturally tame version of her sister answer.

“Emily?” She asked, her voice hushed, worried almost, “You okay?”

Her brows furrowed, “Yeah, I’m fine. Are you?” She got no more than a hum in return, somewhat agreeing though Emily could tell clear as day she was holding something back. “Look, we’re gonna be in Silver Spring, I was thinking tomorrow we could grab lunch-” 

“Can’t, I’m busy, it’s an all day thing,” Her sister cut her off, yet it wasn’t rude or demeaning like usual. Nervous almost, sad, “Sorry,”

“What’s an all day thing?” Emily asked, the concern matching her words. 

Her sister swallowed on the other end of the phone, before she found her words, or maybe even the balls to actually speak, “I’m graduating tomorrow,”

Emily’s face lit up, the smile spreading fast on her face, ignoring the way Morgan’s words seemed to ring true in her ears; she was growing up too fast. 

“Graduating, why didn’t you say!” She asked, the joy in her tone unmissable, “How’d your papers go?”

Spencer held himself off from correcting her that she’d only done five papers, that the rest of her results had come from theory and labs, thinking better than to interrupt the one conversation they’d had where there was no underlying argument brewing. 

“Full honours, obviously.” Bugsy drawled with a snicker, and Emily shook her head, the smile never dimming. 

“Look at you, y’little superstar,” Emily bit her lip, ignoring the guilt that tore at her when she realised she barely knew what Bug spent her days doing, “Did Mom and Dad get good seats? Oh god, dad’s not bringing Stephanie is he?”

The silence on the other end had her halting, the light in the conversation wavering for a second, before she understood the nerves, the quick defence her sister had been on the moment the call had been answered. 

“Bug-”

“They’re not coming,” Her heart ached in her chest hearing it, “I sent Mom the details, she said she’s in Ukraine this week settling some papers. Didn’t even get a chance to ask Dad before he and Stephanie were off on their fifth honeymoon in the Bahamas until October,” A painful laugh echoed down the line, as if she were holding back the gravity of the situation. 

“Bug,” Emily tried again, picking her thumb viciously, punishingly, hating herself for being so blind to her sister’s troubles, “Why didn’t you invite me?”

“I figured you’d be busy,” Came the reply, sad and tender, the most honest she’d heard in a while, “You’re always busy,” 

“Never too busy for you,” Emily’s guilt tripled when her sister didn’t answer, knowing if she were to counter the statement with hard evidence it would only hurt both of them, “Look, I have some time today, probably,” She didn’t, not even a few minutes, “Why don’t we get that coffee, you don’t even have to pay,”

Bugsy gave a sad laugh, “Sorry, Em, I gotta get my dress fitted today, and some of the lab techs invited me to a party later. Maybe some other time,”

“A party with biology nerds?” Emily asked with false excitement, the air turned stagnant between them now, “Well, rock on, science freak. Don’t leave your drinks with strangers, and don’t walk home alone, and for god sake use protection-”

“Bye, Emily,” She said with a chuckle, the older of the two gracing her with the same, as they put the phone down. 

The car was quiet, waiting for Prentiss to speak, none of them missing the way her lip pulled between her teeth, a bitterness on her face that told them she was holding in something close to sadness. You’re always busy. It echoed around her head, stabbing at her chest to think her sister was graduating alone, no one to congratulate her, no one to pat her on the back and tell her how clever she is despite the fact Bugsy would happily tell anyone just how smart she was on her own. Never too busy for you. 

“She’s graduating tomorrow,” She said to the three people waiting for an update, Spencer’s brows shooting to his hairline. He hadn’t heard from her since her last paper got sent off, and why would he? They had exchanged a few little anecdotes and doodles, sent each other research papers to be graded like teachers exchanging lecture notes, “She didn’t even tell me. She’s gonna be alone,” 

JJ grimaced, “What? What about your mom- or, or your dad, an uncle, someone-” 

“Mom and dad are out of the country, Mom’s brother lives in Mexico with his seven kids, he can barely get a night’s sleep let alone a day off to travel up to Maryland. Dad’s sisters passed away when I was a kid,” Emily explained, running a hand over her face, “I can’t let her go up there alone,”

“So we don’t,” Spencer said, as if he’d never been more sure of anything in his life, “We don’t let her do it alone,”

-

“Graduating with Masters in Biotechnology; Jasper Adams, Tom Adamson, Kristen Afkins, Gavin Agriths-” 

The dean read off the names of the students as she fiddled with the hem of her dress. 

The dress fit beautifully, her make up done to near perfection, her hair styled neatly, she was graduating with full honours for christ sakes. Why couldn’t she just be happy with what she had? Why had she got to be so spoiled? 

Lots of peoples parents missed their graduation, lots of people her age didn’t even have parents anymore, she ought to be grateful her mother was increasing famine aid in foreign countries, all the lives she would save, or even be happy her father had found a pretty, rich new wife to tour every known vacation destination with. Or even that her sister had called her just yesterday and told her in a few words she was proud of her. 

But none of them quelled the feeling of loneliness that blossomed inside Bugsy. The kind that had always been there, the kind that just wanted someone in her corner, telling her she was doing pretty good for a kid who raised herself in all those big houses they’d moved to, who saw the au pair more often than her own mother. 

All those rooms were so empty, the houses so quiet besides for her. It was like living in a cemetery. 

“Robert Lewsinsky. Marcus Linford. Tara Lorence. Katie Macauley.” 

P would be up soon. Each name of her classmates drew an applause, some whoops and screams, one family she swore there must have been ten of them in the back row cawing and howling like monkeys at a zoo, proud of their son for making it. 

She willed a smile on her face, hearing Orla Parkins get called up, and she knew just by the steward that directed her where to stand in line she was close. 

“Kenneth Patterson. Joshua Perriman. Harriet Pimms. Lauren Pintons.”

She held a rattled breath as Renly Prackett walked ahead of her, strolling over the stage to collect his degree, flashing the crowd a wide smile and a fist pump. She had always liked Renly, having been his experiment partner for a year, despite the fact he never washed up after himself in the lab. 

Then it was, her name was called. The one no one but her mother and Stephanie ever called her, she solely went by Bugsy courtesy of Emily. It was a family name, a nice one at that. Maybe it had been the fact she had been eight and her cool big sister crowned her the new name, or maybe it just rolled off the tongue better, made her feel less like a Prentiss, that she chose to go by her monika. 

She tried not to think about where or what Emily was doing, only hoping she was safe, as she began walking over the stage, her heels clicking loudly with her hesitant steps. 

To her utmost surprise she heard a loud whistle echo through the auditorium, a group of jeers and screams of her name, even an air horn signing off that had her almost tripping over her own feet turning to see who it was. 

Surely it was a joke, a cruel prank, she barely had any friends in her class. Acquaintances sure, but no one so bold as to make such a fuss over her. 

Squinting down at the audience, her cap nearly slipping off her head as her head turned to the source, she felt her chest burst when she saw the dark hair and bangs, her sisters butchered fingertips in her mouth with a loud cattle whistle, screaming like a firework right to the stage where she graciously accepted her award, despite the fact she barely paid any attention to the dean anymore, more to her sister who smiled at her widely as she clapped. Behind her, her team she’d met on the off chance, the pretty blonde, JJ, who pressed the air horn a few more times, cheering just as loud for her. Morgan, the handsome one who had stood himself on top of his chair, cupping a hand over his mouth to scream “Kicking ass, baby Prentiss!” at her, ignoring the way other people stared wide eyed at them. 

And Spencer, tall enough to be seen over the crowd even without the help of a chair, who smiled at her, clapping those big hands of his loud enough to reach her, his own whoops never ceasing even as she stepped off the stage to head back to her seat. 

The rest of the ceremony dragged, a speech from one of the alumni and the exit music playing, but she simply grinned into her hand, where her degree smiled back at her, counting down the moments she would be allowed to stand. 

And then she was fast walking down the stairs, amongst the bustle of students, the black gowns flurrying around her as she burst out into the square where parents, fiancees, brothers, sisters, cheered their loved ones, pulling them into tight hugs. 

Her eyes scanned the wave of black hats, landing on two dark eyes, the thick sable hair framing the dazzling smile that awaited her with open palms. All but shoving her way through the crowd, she stopped in front of her sister, the urge to jump at her with a hug shying the moment she got close. 

“Told you. Never too busy for you, Bug,” Emily said, pulling her in by her shoulders for a tight hug. She knew her sister wasn’t one to beg for affection, wasn’t one to let her guard drop so soon, but she also knew she’d needed it by the way she melted against her, the way she chuckled into her hair, pulled her closer. 

“Do I owe your boss another letter of apology for this or do I get you guys for free?” The girl asked, as her sister pulled away, keeping an arm around her shoulder as they turned to the rest of the team. 

“No, this one is entirely on us, promise,” JJ said with a smile as she saw Emily beaming maternally over at the girl, the flat of the cap knocking against her cheek as she squeezed her in once more, “We’re very proud of you,” 

She heated under the woman’s words, wriggling in her shoes as bad as Emily did when she felt awkward, Derek chuckling and taking the degree out of her hand. 

“Alright, lets see the creds, Prentiss,” He held it up next to her face as she shrugged, the ‘4.0’ clear as day next to her name, “Good looking, and smart. Those boys in the lab ought to watch out,”

She grinned under his teasing, “What can I say, I got the deep end of the gene pool,” She teased, feeling Emily swat her ear, her eyes falling to where Spencer held a plant pot with a poorly wrapped bow of twine around it, the soil a little displaced from the journey.

“This is for you,” He said, handing her the small green sproutling, his cheeks blushing as her face lit up, reading the small inscription on the front, “It’s-”

“Dionaea muscipula,” She said, biting her lip as she smiled at him, “This is so cool! Where on earth did- I had a paper last semester on the ways to study their electrophysiology you just have to read- oh thank you!”

“English, please?” Emily asked, though the warmth flooded her chest when her sister threw her arms around a very rigid Spencer. 

Thinking she should grab her and warn her the man disliked touch almost as much as she does, she was surprised to see him give her a small embrace back, smiling proudly the way he did when he’d made someone happy. 

“Piège à mouches Vénus,” Her sister responded cockily, tugging herself away from the tall man, to inspect her new plant, well aware that Emily rolled her eyes at her use of French, “Venus Fly Trap. I’ve never seen one so young, still I should be able to pull some slides on the Rhizomes in the soil-”

Emily put a hand to her temple, JJ smiling widely as she saw for once Spencer be the one on the receiving end of an earful, chuckling to himself when she began dishing out name ideas for the sapling. 

“Holy shit, there’s two of them,” Morgan grumbled, nudging his shoulder into Emily who simply sighed, her migraine already starting as Reid began jumping in with his own thoughts, which didn’t take much effort.

“Don’t even,” 

+3. The one where you’re taken hostage

“Tell us about the 911 call,” Spencer requests, flicking through the file himself beside her in the back seat. She had her own set of paperwork in front of her, her pen attached to a clipboard the lanyard around her neck reading her real, honest credentials, unlike the fake ones Emily and Reid were given. She’d been to one of these sects before, invited kindly as part of her research on the effect isolation has on cultivation of crops, knew one of the mother’s well from her last research paper, and had managed to get the group a foot in the door to entering the Separtarian Sect with little fuss. 

Hotch, usually hesitant to allow outsiders in on the job, especially as young and spirited as Bugsy, had to admit it would calm any potential unsubs and make them see the team as unthreatening if they had a friendly face there. He’d signed the papers with a frown that morning, and they were on their way to the little apartment the girl occupied just outside Baltimore, sample tubes stuffed into her pack ready. 

“I believe the he that they refer to is the church’s leader, Benjamin Cyrus,” Nancy, a woman from child protective services, replied from the driver's seat, Emily thumbing through her papers as they neared the compound. 

“Benjamin Cyrus, no criminal record; no record of him at all actually,” Reid replied, watching Bugsy scribbling notes into her lab book, perfecting her report before she had even begun, “What else do you know about him?” 

“The sect I spoke to before, the one in Utah, said he was rumoured to be practising polygamy and forced marriages,” The younger woman said, looking back at him with a frown, “They were much more modern in their beliefs than these guys. Last time I spoke to Marina she was happy there, I can’t see why she would want to move here,” 

Spencer looked as if he were about to answer, perhaps to tell her he was sure her contact would be just fine, when Emily shrugged and turned to Nancy. 

“Do we know who the caller is?” She asked, sipping her now lukewarm coffee out of the disposable cup. 

Nancy’s head tilted in a so-so motion, “Uh, Jessica Evansen is the one who the age fits, but we can’t be sure.”

“Well given their view on outsiders, it would be best if you didn’t identify us as FBI.” Emily instructed, handing Reid his new, fake credentials and his gun she’d kept in her bag through customs. “Just use our real names and introduce us as child victim interview experts.” Nancy nodded, the compound coming into view, the dust flurrying under the car wheels as the road turned into nothing more than a sandy path. 

A guard seemed to be expecting their arrival as he stood, unarmed at the main gate, unlatching the bolt in the middle and opening it wide for their vehicle to pass through. She nodded in thanks, her eyes flicking out the dirty window to see a collection of mobile homes surrounding a large church, a few smaller outbuildings dotted around the compound. It was quiet, not full of laughter like the last group she had been to, the children nowhere to be seen, only a few of the handier members of the flock that were either fixing up walls, trimming trees besides a man sprawled too casually on the steps of the chapel, a bible in his hands he seemed to be catching up on. 

The car pulled to a stop in front of the man that barely batted an eye at their arrival, the safety locks flicking off each of the doors, Nancy collecting her briefcase and exiting the car first. 

She had all but reached for the handle when Emily stopped her, swivelling in her seat to look her dead in the eye. 

“Your job is mediator, you got that?” Her sister had never looked more serious, but then again she did know her almost too well, “You and your field research are a… buffer between our investigation and the unsub. Just try to take the focus off what we’re doing, but do not provoke anyone,”

She raised her hands in innocence, “Got it, jeez, what could I possibly do that could ruin this investigation?” 

Emily stared back at her blankly, unnamused, as if they both knew there was a lot she could, and would, do that would blow the whole thing. 

“You look like mom when you give me that look,” She bit back, leaving the car, as Nancy spoke to the man laying on the steps, “It’s terrible,” 

“I’m looking for Mr Benjamin Cyrus?” Nancy reported, her tight, knee length skirt and blouse entirely out of place amongst the dirt track. 

“You found him,” The man replied, still not so much as granting them a glance of interest as he flicked through his passages. 

“I’m Nancy Lunde, we spoke on the phone regarding the allegation,” She replied, which was the only thing that garnered his attention as he looked up at them behind slightly bent reading glasses. 

“Savages they call us; because our manners differ from theirs,” He said, though it was clear it wasn’t entirely his own words, more likely a segment of his preach he’d repeated a handful of times. Bugsy tried to hide her disgust behind her hand tightening around her lab books she kept tightly to her chest. 

“We didn’t come here to hear you cite scripture, Mr Cyrus,” Nancy snipped as he approached the group, pocketing the glasses though he kept hold of the bible in hand as if it was part of his own arm. 

“Actually it’s Benjamin Franklin,” Spencer murmured to the woman, which had Cyrus’ cold brown eyes narrowing at the tall man, assessing for a motive.

“Emily Prentiss, Spencer Reid. They’re child victim interview experts,” Nancy introduced them quickly, the two of them flashing their badges, the unofficial ones at least. Gesturing to the youngest woman, she introduced her with her real name, his gaze flicking to her as he seemed to recognise it.

“Marina’s friend? The plant lady?” He asked, face half amused as she fought her lip from twitching into a sneer. Instead she smiled, holding out her hand. 

“That’s what they call me,” She said, shaking his hand, ignoring the way he flashed her a cheshire cat smile, “Hope you don’t mind me dropping by, Marina said I could take some samples for my research,”

He laughed, shaking his head, looking at Spencer, “Women and their flowers, right?” Spencer swallowed back a retort, shrugging his shoulders, though Bugsy’s eye twitched. Benjamin patted her on her shoulder, “Of course you can honey, I’ll find Jared, our head gardner, and you can run along for your research,” 

He said it as if she were lying, that her degree and endless hours of work would only ever chalk up to a few doodles in a notebook, or a garden full of hydrangeas, or tulips, or roses, because she couldn’t possibly care about anything else but pretty flowers. 

Nodding her head graciously, choking back the hateful response she wished to spit in his face, she gave him a polite thankyou, feeling Spencer’s eyes burning into the side of her head. 

“The children are in the school as I indicated,” Cyrus said, turning back to the other three, Emily and Nancy taking off in the direction he pointed, the former knowing her sister was at risk of blowing a fuse if they were here for long. 

Spencer hung back, partially because he had a plan of distraction in mind to allow the women a chance to speak with the children whilst Cyrus wasn’t around, partially because he didn’t want to leave Bugsy anywhere on her own. Sure, Emily had said they were both trained in self defence when they were kids, but with no weapon of her own, he was reluctant. 

“You're using solar power?” He prompted, gesturing towards where the eight blue panels warmed under the Colorado sun.

“We’re completely self-sufficient,” Benjamin nodded along, catching the impressed look on both their faces, “Electricity, food, water. Ben Franklin said ‘God helps those that help themselves,’ you look surprised,” 

“No, impressed actually,” Spencer replied, and he wasn’t entirely lying. The system was incredibly complex, particularly if they received no help from outsiders, for as many people as there were in the compound. 

“Thankyou; for admitting that,” Cyrus said earnestly, flicking his gaze back to Bugsy who studied the solar panels, “I’ll go find Jared, he can take you to the greenhouses,”

Thanking him again, he led the way towards the school where Nancy and Emily had headed, as the two of them exchanged a look, Spencer smiling half piteously, wishing he could shake her and tell her just how smart she was and that Cyrus knew absolutely nothing. 

He didn’t miss the way she walked closer to him, or how she thumbed the corner of her notebook, or how she looked back at him, biting the inside of her cheek. He thinks he might get slapped if he pointed it out, but Emily had the exact same tell when she was nervous, which is why he bumps their shoulders together in means of reassuring her he was still there. 

It was only then she gave him any sort of smile back. 

-

Jared, as expected, had been just as condescending and patronising as Benjamin whilst she slipped on her latex gloves, scooping no more than a handful of homemade fertiliser into one of her test tubes. It had been a partial cover, their story, but she had been telling the truth when she’d contacted Marina and asked if she could drop by. She’d been meaning to expand her field research in hopes of stumbling on a job opportunity since she spent most of her postgraduate days reading while her cat pawed at her leg for more treats than he deserved, the odd phone call with her sister much more common than it had been before. 

She didn’t miss the way Jared’s hand fell into the small of her back as he led her back towards the school, after having noted down a few more readings, fussing over the state of the carrots that seemed to grow entirely naturally thanks to the systems they’d been smart enough to set up. He seemed rather bored by the whole thing, for a head gardener, more interested in staring at her legs as she leaned down to identify the fat black beetle that crawled along the rockery. 

It wasn’t until they were halfway to the school that the sound of tyres on a dirt path met her ears, and she saw five armoured SUVs out the corner of her eye. 

She hadn’t even the time to question what was going on, before Jared’s face dropped, the hand gently holding the soft of her back grabbing on her forearm hard enough to leave bruises, as he was dragging her to the chapel they had seen when they had pulled up.

 Emily had said the rest of the team stayed in Quantico, if it wasn’t them, who was it. 

“Whats going on- who is that?” She asked him lamely, her feet stumbling as she half fought his heavy hand off. 

That was when the shooting started. 

She thinks it came from the compound first, she’d seen two men stationed on top of one of the outbuildings, thinking nothing much of it, until she saw clearly now the assault rifles they bore, pointing it straight at the vehicles that drew closer. The whistle of bullets, bangs of the chambers emptying their artillery, and it wasn’t until she heard the doors to the SUVs start opening, more gunfire began hitting the wall ahead of them that she started running. Running fast, for the cover the church provided until she figured out just what the fuck was happening. 

Jared all but threw her past the chapel door, where Cyrus and four other men were waiting, a heavy barricade in their hands, her chest pounding with adrenaline, she couldn’t help the yelp that left her as Cyrus whirled on her, grabbing her shoulders firmly and looking her dead in the eye. 

“Did you know anything about this?” He asked, his calm demeanour cracking when she scrambled for a response, “ANSWER ME,”

“No-no not at all.” She shook her head, voice weaker than she’d like, but the sight of more guns in the men’s hands twisted any resolve she had, “Where are the others- the- the experts-”

“Take her into the tunnels,” Cyrus ignored her question, nodding at one of his men to grab her as Jared armed himself. She felt another callused hand yank on her upper arm, and part of her wondered if that was how men handled all women here, as if they were herding cattle, as she was dragged down into the catacombs below the church. 

They’d made plans for a day like this to come, she realised. 

Her heart constricted at the sound of bullets rattling above them, she hadn't been able to tell in that last moment whether Cyrus believed her or not as, nor whether she was being taken to the tunnels for her own safety or to be questioned harder about the gunmen. 

She could only hope Emily was safe. 

She felt her tongue too big for her mouth as the man all but shoved her into the bunker, the nervous chatter of women and children, some of the more elderly men, as they clung to one another for safety, the scathing remark she would have usually made about his heavy hands failing her as she scanned the room for her sister. 

Emily was faster however, and she nearly yelped again as two bony arms yanked her into a hug, a rare one, and she knew by the blazer and the sigh of relief in her ear it was Em.

Usually she would bat her off, tell her to stop fussing like a mother hen, but today she embraced her right back, trying to note if her sister had any bullet holes in her before she allowed herself the same relief. 

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Emily asked, the whole thing coming out in a slew of worry, and she nodded, pulling away as if she needed to see the proof in person. 

Bugsy’s eyes were wild, as if she were a doe in a meadow hearing a rifle cocking near. No scratch that, she was a doe being chased and shot at and hunted, narrowly escaping being mounted on a wall. 

“They were all shit shots,” Bugsy said, through a laugh she didn’t quite mean, “You would have done much better.” 

Patting her sister on the shoulder, Emily finally released her when she realised the humour meant she at least had her head on her shoulders. Spencer watched her with meticulous eyes, knowing the shock that registered on her face, knowing it was the same one he wore when he first had shots fired at him. He saw her own eyes quickly check him over, satisfied with a breath of relief when she saw they were both fine. 

“Where’s Lunde?” Emily asked, and she realised then Cyrus had followed her down into the shelter, two of his men grabbing handfuls of guns she had never seen before, likely imported out of country, and returning to the ground level, preparing for more shooting. 

“It wasn’t us,” Cyrus replied, as if that negated the fact their recklessness had gotten the agent killed. 

“What? You can’t shoot it out with the cops, you have children in here,” Emily seethed, her voice harsh and incredulous.

“I didn’t start this,” Cyrus bit back, looking towards his men as they grabbed boxes on boxes of ammunition, “I’ll take the front, you take the roof,” 

And with that they stormed their way back through the tunnels, leaving the three of them to look between each other, knowing this could only end badly. Knowing the only people that could figure out how to get them out of this mess was the BAU, all 1,700 miles away. 

–

They’d been in the bunker for fourteen hours when there was finally movement. The shooting seemed to have quietened down, in which Spencer whispered it was around 11pm and it was likely neither party had a clear shot. She’d managed to fall asleep leaning against the wall, Emily’s blazer draped over her legs. She’d regretted wearing cropped pants, despite how the shade of green complimented her eyes nicely, and she’d been shivering by the time she fell asleep, Emily’s hands stroking her hair gently as if she knew she was struggling to relax. 

She hadn’t realised she was staring at her little sister, frowning even as she slept, which made part of her want to laugh, until she caught Spencer’s tired eyes looking between them, something knowing and warm in his gaze. 

“You know, she’s always scowled in her sleep, ever since she was born,” Emily said, quiet enough it didn’t interrupt the hum of small snores, the odd baby cry that filled the bunker, but loud enough for him to smile at her, “She used to sleep walk terrible too. I’d find her in the kitchen trying to make pancakes with a cheese grater. It’s like that big brain of hers doesn’t know how to shut off,” Emily shook her head with a fatigue, rubbing her eyes. 

“Was it weird? Being fourteen years older?” Spencer asked, his own hands shoved into his sleeves to try defend from the draught. Emily thought for a moment, her hand slowing for a second on her sister's hair, before she answered. 

“I felt guilty leaving her in that house with my mom when I went to college,” Emily answered, Bugsy unconsciously tucking her face closer into the jacket, “I think part of her kind of hated me for it for a while.” She went quiet, the shame in her voice thick as the silence that encompassed them, “She’s never been very affectionate you know? Before her graduation I don’t think I’d hugged her in twelve years,”

Spencer held himself back from pointing out that she had been just as touchy with him since they’d met, and that maybe it was Emily’s own regret that seemed to shut the both of them down. He wasn’t one to rub salt in the wound, not since he’d gotten this job and learned to watch what he said. 

He didn’t know what to say, didn’t want to give her advice, knowing the whole subject of their slowly repairing relationship was a sore one. He had no siblings of his own, had a mother who loved him despite how much she grappled with her own mind, and he had only known the girl briefly enough to consider her a friend at a push. 

“I always thought the two of you were similar,” Emily chose to continue, offering him a small smile. He returned it, his face blushing at the fact that was a huge compliment to him, “Granted, you roll your eyes at me less and don’t act like I’m dumb, but you remind me of her,” 

“Thankyou, I wish that were true,” He replied, eyes flicking to her sleeping form, the way her eyebrows were indeed scrunched in a permanent frown. He wondered if she was actually angry, or if she was just thinking hard, perhaps her dreams were full of equations or labs she needed to sort through. Either way, he wanted to know. “She’s much cooler than I’ll ever be,” 

Emily snorted, shuffling against the wall to cosy herself, “That’s one way to put it,” She said, smiling over at him as he did the same, his head resting against the wall, Bugsy’s legs stretching out to knock against his feet, and he didn’t mind that she scuffed the bottom of his already dirty trousers. “Get some sleep,”

And so they did. 

–

Cyrus had corralled the whole flock into the church, where the shooting had stopped and the bodies had been removed, stating at the break of dawn that there was a hostage negotiator coming in to make sure everyone was safe before they made any deals. 

She sat next to Spencer, the three of them stiff from their sleeping arrangements, and her stomach churned with hunger. It had been over 24 hours since they’d gotten here, and besides the small bit of bread and water Cyrus gave everyone for breakfast, she was starving. 

“Remind me to never leave the house, ever again,” She grumbled, as everyone waited in the pews for the negotiator to arrive, “My cat is gonna be pissed I’ve not fed him,” 

“Since when did you get a cat?” Emily inputted from the other side of Reid, keeping one eye on the door in case any agents start shooting again. 

The girl shrugged, “I got lonely, there’s not much to do now I’m not studying anymore,” 

Reid watched how she clutched her stomach, feeling his own complaining at the lack of nutrition, “Morgan wasn’t lying when he said you should sign up for the academy. We could always use the help, we wouldn’t have solved that case in Baltimore without you,” 

She snickered, nudging his foot with her boot, “You’re being modest, you would have done it just fine,”

He was a little, wasn’t surprised she called his bluff either. “Okay, so probably yes- but it would have taken us a whole lot longer. Mr Chernus likely would have died,” 

She shook her head, glancing at Emily who watched her carefully, “That was all you guys. I just translated.”

Emily and Spencer exchanged a glance, leaning back in their uncomfortable seats calmly. 

“You’re probably right,” Spencer said, dusting the dirt off his trousers, “Probably couldn’t handle it, high intensity mind games and such,”

She blanched, looking at him as if he’d grown a second head, not knowing him to be so brutally honest, realistic yes, but not bordering on rude. 

“And it’s a lot of work,” Emily jumped in, her mouth a straight line, “I don’t know if you’d be dedicated enough,”

Bugsy scoffed, indifferently. “I have a masters degree, I was offered a scholarship to do a PHD, asked to be an assistant professor at Yale, I can work hard, Emily,” She snipped, and perhaps she was particularly just hangry or they had struck a nerve with their doubt, “and I could do it if I wanted to, I’d have the best shot they’d ever seen, guaranteed- mom made me take lessons when you left- trust me I could do it-”

She shut up when she saw their small smile exchanged, as if she’d told them a joke, or moreso they’d had the same identical thought and that alone was hilarious. 

Scowling at them, she looked from where Spencer looked almost, almost, guilty at making her the butt of the joke, to where Emily had a ‘told you so’ smirk, and she kissed her teeth at their childishness. 

“Are you guys reverse psychology-ing me? Seriously, so original guys,” She snapped, crossing her arms and straightening herself in her seat, ignoring the snigger that passed between them. 

“You’re not wrong though,” Emily replied quietly as Cyrus walked past them, his eyes falling to them with a frown. Bugsy kept her head down, heeding Emily’s warning of not provoking anyone, and Spencer eyed the way she leaned closer to him.

If she was going to retaliate, whether agreeing or not, she stopped herself, the doors the church opening and an older gentleman walking through the doors, arms full of supplies she’d figured must have been part of the negotiation. He was patted down by an armed guard, searching for his own weapons do doubt, or a wire perhaps, as he handed the box over to another who took it without a thankyou. 

“Rossi,” She heard Reid whisper beside her, and from the look he shot Emily and Spencer she gathered he was from the BAU, just as they’d expected. His eyes fell on her, softening as alot of Emily’s team did when they saw the two of them, as if they were picking her face apart for the tiny ways in which she resembled their Prentiss, or maybe it was the way she curled up in her seat, tired, hungry, on the defence. He just looked sorry for her. 

 “The children,” Cyrus said with no greeting, the air between them particularly frosty. He gestured towards the three of them, though Rossi had already clocked their tired faces staring at him with worry, “And our guests,”

She saw him trying not to react, guessing they had not let it slip to Cyrus he worked with the two undercover FBI agents, looking away from them as if the sight of their forlorn figures was enough to turn him sick. 

Judging by the way Cyrus and he spoke quietly, tensely, Bugsy just hoped they had a plan to get them out of here soon as he soon left with a rigid handshake to the man keeping them hostage. 

–

The three of them had been moved to a backroom a few hours later. Her stomach ached, the little sustenance Rossi had brought being distributed to the community before they’d been offered anything, which hadn’t left much. Reid and Emily had tried to get her to take some of their sharing, and despite how her insides cried out for it, she declined, stating they would be more use than she would; that they needed their strength more than her if they were going to get out of here alive. 

The two of them hadn’t liked that answer judging by the frowns on their faces, but they sat in their seats with little fuss as they waited for things to quieten down after Cyrus’ staged “mass suicide” that had turned out to be nothign more than a test of loyalty and grape juice. 

They had been sat in silence, aside from her foot bouncing on the floor impatiently, as she picked at the threads on her pants, the material uncomfortable on her skin after a day of wearing it. The door slammed open, Cyrus entering the room with nasty scowl. She didn’t know what had changed in the man in a matter of hours as he stormed over to them, two of his men behind him, loaded rifles in their arms. 

This was not good. 

“Which one of you is it?” He asked almost too calm for his demeanour, his eyes flicking between the three of them, where Emily attempted to brush her hair using her fingers, Reid played with the hem of his cardigan, an she sat beside him, resting against the cold stone wall behind them, her eyes narrowing at his furious expression. 

The three of them remained silent, waiting for him to explain more, though clearly it was not the answer he was looking for as he threw his jacket open, revealing a loaded pistol tucked into his jeans. Drawing it into his dominant hand, her body tensed up, her back straightening like a rod as she looked up at him through fear. 

“Which one of you is the FBI agent?” He repeated in that same calm tone, and her heart fell through her stomach. 

She opened her mouth to say something in retaliation, though the way she saw his hand shaking with fury, she knew it was better to stay quiet in case her voice would be the final straw that made him trigger happy. 

“Why do you think one of us is an FBI agent?” Spencer replied softly, and if he was panicking even a fraction amount she was he held it back, though his eyes flicked to Emily. 

But it was a tell. The smallest movement alone was a tell he was lying, or perhaps it was the fact he’d answered a question with one of his own, distracting from the attention on them with the unsubs own answers. Maybe his quiet and calm showed how trained he was for a situation like this, showed he had gone up against bad guys before and won. 

Whatever it was about him, it had Cyrus cocking the barrel of the gun straight at Spencer’s temple. 

“God forgive me for what I must do,” The preacher murmured, his finger moments away from the trigger, when she lurched forward in her seat, hand shooting out to grab his wrist deathly tight. 

“It’s me,” 

She hadn’t realised she’d said it until the room went quiet. She thought for a moment it had come from Emily, Emily had always been the braver of the two of them, but it wasn’t until Cyrus’ unforgiving, dark gaze fell to her where she froze in her spot, that she understood her mouth had been the one moving. 

Emily looked as if she was about to vomit, Spencer looked dumbfounded, but all she could do was stare back at Cyrus as if to will herself not to back down, knowing all three of them could fall victim if she gave them reason to doubt her; he could kill all three of them just to be sure the mystery agent was dealt with.

“It’s me,” She repeated, voice stronger this time, and she felt her chest relax just the tiniest amount as he turned the gun away from Spencer’s head. 

He stared back at her for a moment, before the weapon smacked across her face in a sharp whip, her cheekbone crying out in a sting she knew was going to bruise. 

He grabbed her hair at the nape of her neck, yanking her into a stand hard enough she yelped, despite not wanting to give him the satisfaction of the torture. 

“Watch the other two,” Cyrus barked, dragging her out of the room as she squirmed under his hand, feeling it only tighten into an unforgiving pull. 

She barely caught Emily bolting out of her seat to yell at the other men, all but fighting in their heavy grasp to follow wherever it was he was taking her, only for the door to be slammed shut behind them. 

It was only then she realised how fucked she truly was. 

–

She struggled to breath through the blood clotting in her nose. She didn’t think it was broken, not that she could check where her hands had been tied to the bedpost, tape over her mouth to stop her calling for help, her feet bound. She’d done nothing but give him hell as he’d been laying into her, keeping her cries and groans of pain silent as he’d kicked her in the ribs hard enough to know he’d damaged something at least. 

She’d not made it easy for him to tie her down, worried about what they were planning next, she’d managed to headbutt him in the mouth, and the way he clutched at his jaw when he’d left gave her a sick satisfaction, though her temple now hurt more than she’d like to admit. But they’d only covered her mouth after she’d screamed obscenities at them for an hour or so, hoping to attract attention, hoping if the BAU were on their way, Emily and Reid would be able to find her fast before they could dispose of her. 

Bugsy didn’t want to go like this. Tied up like cattle, gagged and beaten, the spirit kicked out of her as the dehydration gnawed at her limbs, making her too weak to even try wriggling out of the binds. 

She felt herself dropping off to sleep, or maybe it was a concussion, he’d slammed her face into that mirror quite viciously, she wouldn’t be surprised if it had rattled her head around. Fighting with her eyelids to stay open, she jumped in her battered skin as the door unlatched, and she thrashed on the rickety bed to get away from the impending second beating. 

But it wasn’t Cyrus. A fawn haired woman entered, her eyes falling on the girl on the bed, where blood trickled down her cheek, pouring from her nose like a thick liquor. Frowning, she was on high alert as the woman approached, a small, damp cloth in her hand. 

“Relax, I’m not going to hurt you honey,” She hushed, approaching the young girl. Bugsy didn’t believe her for one second, her head pulling away from her as far as it could, her eyes wild and distrustful as the woman kneeled down beside the bed. “I’m Kathy,”

Bugsy debated jabbing an elbow in her face then and there, telling her in few words to stay as far away from her as possible, that the moment she was free she didn’t care who she hurt; she was getting out of here even if she had to crawl. 

“That woman’s your sister right?” The blonde said, and the words stopped her heart for a moment, giving the woman the chance to run the cloth over the dribble of blood, “Emily,”

“Where is she?” She tried to ask, but the gag made it little more than a muffled cry, the woman’s eyes turning down in sadness. Pity. Bugsy hated every second of it.

“She’s okay, she’s worried about you though,” Kathy said, wiping under her nose, making her wince at the feeling, “Put up a hell of a fight after they took you away,” 

She must have rolled her eyes, or perhaps it was just telling on her face that that didn’t surprise her as the older woman wiped over the superficial cut on her forehead she hadn’t realised was deep until the cloth went over it and she yawped like a dog having it’s tail pulled. 

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” Kathy cooed, and she seemed genuinely guilty as she did. She tutted, shaking her head, fighting the urge to smooth the girls hair down the way she did when her own daughter was upset, “Emily said they’ll be coming for us at 3am, Cyrus has a mass suicide planned but they think they can stop him, you just have to hold on a little longer honey,” 

“I want to see her,” Bugsy tried to talk again despite her mouth being covered, only for it to come out unintelligible once more. Huffing, she resigned herself to glaring at the ceiling, biting back frustrated tears. Kathy seemed to want to say something else, but thought better of it as the twenty something year old turned away from her to stare out the window, as if she were being dismissed. 

Sighing, she rose from the bed and headed for the door, praying the FBI would get them out in time, before Cyrus put his plan into action. 

–

Bugsy didn’t start panicking until it hit 2:50. She’d managed to kick the small analogue clock on the beside into working, the red numbers seeming to take a millenia to change over. 

Yet it wasn’t until 3am neared, and the hallways remained silent, did she start to wonder if Kathy had been telling the truth at all. What if they had found out Emily and Reid were FBI and not her? What if they’d already been caught?

She really had wanted to see Emily, wanted to scream at the woman, who had meant well, to bring her sister to her or she would make every damn bible basher in this compound regret the day they were born. She felt helpless. She despised feeling helpless. 

It was only when she heard shots rattling from outside did the cold fear set in. 2:52. Any minute now. 

It was then an even worse thought struck her. What if they didn’t bother to come for her? Reid and Emily were safe downstairs, at least that was how Kathy had made it seem. If they got the women and children, the agents out first, she wondered if they would leave her for last since she wasn’t their top priority. 

2:53 stared back at her. 

At least Emily would make it. She was more important, had more going for her. She was supposed to be an only child anyway, mom had said it herself. Bugsy was the product of a failing marriage and a shared bottle of 1896 Bourbon that had been a wedding gift they’d never opened. 

2:54.

She could have sworn she tore something the way her head snapped to the door as it swung open on its hinges, as if two large men had thrown their weight into it. But it wasn’t two men at all, just one frantic Derek Morgan with an FBI grade assault rifle. 

The relief in his eyes was immediate, and he pulled a pocket knife from his boot, rushing over to where she lay, almost in shock, wondering if he was real at all, her heart pounding as she heard shouting in the corridor. 

“I’m gonna get you out, kid,” The man promised, slinging his gun over his shoulder as he sliced through the rope on her ankles, her eyes trained on the 2:55 that watched them as if to laugh at them. 

She whimpered, cursing behind her gag when she heard footsteps pounding through the hallway, and she was sure they were going to get caught. She thought then it would have been better if they’d forgotten about her, that at least Derek would have been safe, and he could have made sure the children got out safely, could have gotten Spencer and Emily medical. 

Derek whirled on the doorway the same as she did as a tall figure all but skidded around the corner, his legs weak as hers felt, too long and not at all built for running. Clumsy almost. 

Spencer. She should have known from the way he looked white as a sheet the moment he saw her it was him, but maybe she really did have concussion, as it seemed within moments he was fussing over her face, tearing a little too sharply at the tape over her mouth. 

She thinks she groaned, or maybe cursed him out, as he started apologising immediately, his eyes a puppy kind of sad as she stared up at him, Derek handing him the knife to cut her arms free. 

He was talking, but she couldn’t make a lot of it out, just that he was really sorry, it was 2:56 now. It was like her brain switched itself back on when she realised she was free, and the two of them were trying to haul her to her feet. 

“Come on, princess, we gotta get out of here,” Derek said, as Spencer looped an arm around her waist, helping her limp across the room where her weak limbs did little to hold her upright, her ribs throbbing with every step, “We managed to stop Cyrus from detonating it manually, but the circuits are all still live,”

Morgan took the lead with the rifle, knowing some of Cyrus’ men had stayed to look for them, that they would go down with the building even though he’d already shot their leader the moment they’d breached the front door, because that was how loyal they were. They’d proven so already with the wine. 

She kept her groans behind tight lips as they made it down the stairs, knowing Spencer didn’t mean to hold her bruised bones so tight, that he was just worried and her legs were doing the bare minimum to keep them both moving very fast. It wasn’t until they made it within a few feet of the door that they seemed to pick up the pace.

And she saw why. 

Jesse, Cyrus’ child bride that had been the reason they’d come here in the first place was holding the detonator, her face tear streaked at the sight of her husband and prophet dead on the floor, the people responsible all but dragging a lame girl through the foyer and to the doors as if they hadn’t killed a handful of her flock tonight. 

Bugsy saw the moment Jesse decided she wanted vengeance on them, but then, she guessed Spencer had already acted as he slung one of her arms over his shoulder, yanking her out the front door in a matter of seconds as Morgan pulled up the rear, and the two men shoved her down behind the small wall outside the church steps. 

Bugsy expected the bang to be louder as the rubble flew over their heads, the floor shaking with the impact of the bomb detonating, and it was then she realised one of Derek’s large warm hands held her head into his shoulder, protecting her already rattled skull as best as he could. Spencer had done the same, throwing half his body over her back as he covered his ears, the two men tucking into the wall tightly and waiting for the dust to settle. 

Spencer started coughing first, though his position over her never faltered, and she heard his chest wheezing, and knew they needed to move away from the thick smog that blew into their faces. Morgan released her ear, tipping her head back to check her over once more. 

“Kid! You okay?” He fretted, noticing the way her nose had started bleeding again from all the movement; the way the bruise had already started blotching her cheek from where Cyrus pistol whipped her. 

“I didn’t think you’d come for me,” Was all she could say, and Derek thought it was the saddest he’d ever heard her. 

Reid was pulling her to her feet then, where he was still hovering over her, despite the fact the blast had already cleared,  still sputtering and hocking up a lung, but it didn’t stop her from throwing herself at his middle, burying her face in his dusty sweater, not caring one bit if he jostled her aching ribs. 

He was trying to be gentle with her as he squeezed her back, but she knew by the way he pressed his face into her hair he needed it just as badly. 

“You saved my life,” He said, his long arms wrapping around her waist, hauling her whole body against his. 

She laughed through a cough, their cheeks brushing past one another as she pulled him in tighter, thankful, relieved. 

“You saved mine,” 

And then she heard Emily. Emily, who sounded frantic and heartbroken as she called for her, her voice breaking as if she was crying, or atleast on the verge of, and as comforting as Spencer’s long arms around her cracked ribs were, she needed to see her sister was okay. 

Ripping herself from his embrace immediately, she tore off after the sound, and there she was. Her older sister, who had always seemed immovable, like she wouldn’t so much as budge for a bucking horse, like water couldn’t drown her, or however many unsubs she’d faced could stop her from catching them. Her older sister, who looked like she’d taken a few punches of her own, judging by the blood on her blue blouse, that looked around the crowd of fleeing people with watery eyes and a shaking bottom lip.

“EMILY,” She yelled, her voice a bleat, a lamb calling for its mother, as she sprinted down the steps, whatever strength she had left carrying her to where Emily was rushing towards her, taking the stairs in threes, “EM-”

She crashed into her sister’s chest, and it was only then she started crying. 

“I swear I’ll never give you trouble again, I’ll never talk back, I’ll never be a bitch ever again-” It was all a slew of mumbles against her sisters shirt, that was beginning to wet through at the rate the tears were coming, “I thought he was going to shoot you-”

“I was so scared, Bug, oh my god,” Emily murmured into her hair, squeezing the life out of her baby sister that sniffled and sobbed, “You don’t ever, ever do that to me again,”

Bugsy shook her head, clawing at Emily’s back as she pulled her closer, feeling Emily stroking her hair softly to calm her even in the slightest. They stayed like that until she managed to wrangle her sobs into little sniffs, the fire burning her eyes where it burned the rest of the church to ashes. 

She stayed with Emily for a month after that. 

+4. The one where you leave the altar. 

She knew she was turning heads, walking down the street of a drizzly day in Virginia, hair wet and sticking to her face, makeup running down her cheeks, and the sodden, dove white wedding dress clasped in her hands as she paced towards the government building. 

Whether the guards recognised her as the Ambassador’s daughter, or whether they really didn’t want to get into it with a bride looking like that on her day, she didn’t know, but they opened the door for her nonetheless, exchanging raised brows as a trail of wet followed her gown over the marble floors. 

Heading up the desk, she flashed her driver's licence, which was enough to gain her a visitors pass she didn’t bother putting to use as she headed for the elevator, her ballet pumps squeaking under the body of the dress. Waiting for the doors to start closing when she finally let a few tears slip, burying her face into her cold, drenched palms, undoubtedly making the mess of mascara even worse. 

Her heart gave a leap when she heard someone stop the doors, hoping she could get to her sister with little delay, and she quickly wiped her face with whatever was left of her pretty, dobby cloth shawl she had yanked on before she’d ran. 

Whatever excuse she was about to give, whatever one liner she was about to drop to clear the awkwardness this agent was about to walk in on was sucked out of her when she saw Spencer staring at her, his briefcase in his hands he’d used to hold the doors, a wide eyed look plastered on his face as soon as he saw her state. 

“Bugsy,” It was somewhere between surprise and sadness, jumping into the elevator before the metal could shut again, the button for the sixth floor already lit up in a ring of red, “What are you- I didn’t even know…”

“Spencer!” As seemed to be a common occurrence between them now, she threw two very cold arms over his shoulders, tugging him for a hug he quickly reciprocated, feeling like she needed it in the moment, “It was so awful, I just couldn’t all those people staring at me, and he- I just feel so-”

“Hey slow down,” He soothed, slipping his favourite cardigan off his body to put over her shoulders, ignoring the way he cringed as it quickly got sodden, “Let’s get you to Emily, I’m sure we can fix this,”

She nodded, though he could tell she was still shaken up, the elevator dinging to a stop on the fifth floor where an agent looked ready to step in, his face dropping when he saw the sight. 

“Sorry, we’re full,” Spencer said, with little room for discussion, pressing the button to close the doors once more, and taking her by the elbow as she began shivering, “We’re gonna be just fine, you look beautiful,”

She laughed sadly with a roll of her eyes, the tears sticking to her cheeks. She knew she looked no better than a drowned rat, windswept and disgruntled, her dress full of muck from the street. 

“Thankyou, Spencer,” She mumbled, the door sliding open to the sixth floor, where Penelope and her everlasting smile greeted her favourite boy genius. 

She almost dropped her glitter pen when she saw the woman stood next to him looking like Dorothy dragged through the twister. 

“Oh you poor little lamb, what has happened to you honey!” She all but cried, the cute little pom poms in her hair bouncing as she brought Bugsy closer, taking her hands tightly. “Your hands are ice! You’ll catch cold with that wet hair, and your gorgeous dress-” 

“Garcia,” Spencer cut her off, though the woman didn’t seem to mind being manhandled into the kind grip, he guessed her state had her letting her guard down, “This is Bugsy, Emily’s little sister.”

Penelope gasped, her ponytails swishing around some more, the gems on her glasses as bright as the light in her eyes as she yanked the younger girl in for a tight hug. 

“It is so nice to meet you! Emily talks about you all the time,” She said, pulling away and fumbling through her pockets for her fresh pink handkerchief she always carried around, mopping up the girl's eyeliner. 

“She-she does?” Bugsy asked, sniffling, her body trembling as the AC beat down through the water ladened on her body. 

“Of course she does, come on, let’s go get you coffee, I have a new machine in my office that makes the best espresso-” Garcia grabbed her hand as if they were kids in the playground, as if she’d known the girl years, which she sort of had. She had, of course, stalked every single one of Emily’s known relatives, even a distant cousin that never left Europe, and that had thrown up the quiet corner of the internet that Bugsy took up.

“I needed to talk to my sister, if that’s okay,” Bugsy braved enough to say, the swishing of her dress on the carpet making her wince, practically hearing the gallon of rain that soaked the expensive fabric. 

“Ofcourse! How silly of me, I’ll bring it out right to you, little bug. You just go with Spencer,” Handing him the handkerchief, she set off towards her ‘bat cave’ in search of a hot beverage for the shivering woman, “Spencer, clean her makeup!” 

He did as he was told, dabbing the water off her face as he led her to the BAU, where Emily and Morgan sat on their desks, chatting as they finished off lunch, Emily flicking through photos on her phone of baby Henry that JJ had sent over to her that morning from maternity leave. 

“He’s just the sweetest little boy, he’s got the biggest blue eyes just like Jayj,” She said through a smile, “You know Will even said-”

“Holy shit-” Morgan cut her off, and she glanced at him, wondering about his use of a curse. Following his eyes over her shoulder, she swivelled in her position to see where Spencer led a very wet, shaken version of her little sister through the doors of the BAU, a snowy ball gown hanging off her, a veil clinging to her hair that had seen much better days. 

“Holy shit,” She agreed, immediately darting for the girl that tugged Spencer’s cardigan tighter to her body, “Bugsy,” 

“Emily, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t take up too much time- I just couldn’t do it- and I know mom’s always saying ‘Bring home a doctor, bring home a rich man,’ but I just couldn’t no matter how rich his daddy is, he wasn’t even too bad-” It all came out in a slur, not making too much sense, and she didn’t stop until Emily held up her hands, as if easing a wild dog. 

“Woah, take it easy, kiddo,” Morgan hushed, as Emily brought a hand over her sister’s cheek, wiping away the last of the mascara, “What happened?”

Bugsy took a deep breath, looking between Emily and Derek, feeling the rain drip down her back. 

“So a few weeks ago, Mom made me go to that stupid debutante ball,” She started, rolling her eyes already as Emily winced, knowing Elizabeth loved any excuse to dress her youngest up like a Barbie doll. 

“I hated those things,” She confessed, shaking her head, “I thought you’d agreed you didn’t have to go to them anymore,”

“That was while I was in college, she said at least I could focus on my studies,” The girl explained, as Garcia tottered back through the office, a steaming cup of coffee in her beloved Bratz mug. Taking it from the chirpy woman, she took a deep gulp, not caring if it burned her mouth as she wished for the damn chill to go away, “Thankyou- But she made me go to this one on the condition she would pay off some of my college loans, and I was dumb enough to fall for her bribe,” 

She huffed, taking another sip, her stomach warming with the hot liquid settling through her throat. 

“You know how she is at these things, she knows everyone, and everyone knows her. I had four guys asking for my dance card within minutes of arriving there, it was like trying to walk through a dog pound wearing a meat suit, all the hand holding, trying to touch my waist- one guy even called me Madam Prentiss,” She grimaced, shuddering at the thought of it, “Madam? No one even calls mom that-”

“Focus,” Emily reminded gently, and she seemed to nod to herself, setting back on track.

“Right. And then he was there. Byron Hastings.” Bugsy said, wrapping her hands around the mug some more. 

“Oh, isn’t he that super yummy bachelor that just inherited his fathers business?” Garcia jumped in, not noticing how it made her wince, “I hear his dad totally owns a bunch of shares in Facebook and as like just signed a deal with a new company that will change the future of computing-” 

“Not now, baby girl,” Morgan said calmly, patting Penelope on her shoulder when she saw the bride’s crestfallen face.

“Right, sorry. Your turn, little bug,” She said, shaking her head and fiddling with her dozen rings. 

“Yeah, that’s him.” She replied, running a slightly warmed finger over her eyelash where rain even collected there, “And you know, I wasn’t complaining, he was certainly easy on the eyes, and he smelled nice, like he just smelled rich, but man alive he was so boring,” She sighed, “I like computers as much as the next girl, no offence, but he didn’t once ask me what I was into or, and when I tried to bring up my degree he just patted me on the head and said ‘That’s nice’ like I was some child that had brought him a pretty colouring or something,”

“Ouch,” Emily grimaced, rubbing her arms over the cardigan to warm her up a little more, “And then?” 

“And eventually, his dad and my mom cut a deal that we’d make a good pair. He said we could be married within the season, and suddenly everyone seemed up for it, and it was like no matter how hard I tried to dig my heels in, no one would listen, and mom just seemed so pleased with me-” She spluttered, sipping her drink to catch her breath, “I just let it happen and just thought, you know, maybe we could learn to like each other, or we could just be like mom and dad and separate in everything but paper,” 

“It’s your life, who is she to tell you how you’re gonna live it,” Emily was outraged, the tip of her nose pink, her dark eyes stormy as her hands fell to her hips, huffing as if it had been her backed into a corner, “I can’t believe she would do this to you,” 

“I was fine with it, really. It's not like its the fifteenth century when I’d be forced to consummate- anyway,” Bugsy rubbed her face, “I just got there, and mom put on my veil and told me I’d make a lovely Mrs Hastings, and just the sound of it- I couldn’t-”

“What on earth is going on?” A new voice cut through the BAU, and the group disbanded like kids caught trading answers to the homework. Rossi and Hotch stood by the unit chief’s office, brows furrowed at the wet bride and his team that tended to her as if she were a princess. 

“Should we be expecting four wet bridesmaids too?” Rossi asked, the two of them making the steps down to the floor, approaching the guilty faced woman, noting Spencer’s cardigan wrapped over her shoulders. 

“Nope, just me,” Her joke fell flat as she met the stony face of Aaron Hotchner, who looked thoroughly unimpressed, “Nice to see you again, Mr Hotchner, sir,” 

His gaze slid to Emily, mouth opening to share whatever scathing remark bounced around his mouth, but the younger girl beat him to it, everyone’s eyebrows raising when she all but cut him off. 

“This wasn’t on Emily, sir, I just showed up out of the blue, I can go- I’ll go- I just need to figure out where I’m staying since I left my purse at the church- don’t you worry I’ll be out of your hair, Aaro- sir,” Bugsy stammered, plonking the mug onto Emily’s desk, backing away to the doors of the office, clutching her visitor pass tight in her fist. 

Maybe it was because she looked so hopeless, or maybe it was the way his team shot him the same look of horror he would be so regimental, or maybe even it was the fact part of her reminded him of Sean, only his brother wouldn’t have had the courtesy to apologise for his mess. 

Sighing, he gestured her to come back, “Wait,” He said her name, her government name because the other one didn’t fit right in his mouth, “Reid, get her some clothes out your go bag. Emily, tell your mother she’s safe and will be staying in Quantico until you can figure something out,” 

Heaving a sigh of relief, she launched her still sodden form at the chief, wrapping him in a stiff hug, bolder than anyone else on the team had ever dared to be. 

“I swear to god, Mr Hotchner, the next letter you're getting will be the best one yet,” She mumbled into his hard chest, and he fought off the way the corners of his lips twitched upwards. Patting her on the back gently, he ignored the way his dress shirt wet through. 

–

let me know what you think! mAYBE A FEW MORE PARTS COMING UP ??

Edit: This is a part one of 3 or 4 I have planned, thankyou so much for all the love on this I did not expect the reaction 🥺🥺

SECOND EDIT: part two and three are out now!! Have a look at the top where it says ‘next chpt and it’s there bbys!!

THIRD EDIT: we are now balls deep into this universe here's th link for the masterlist

[multifandoms4]

Annoying

Oscar Piastri x Norris!Reader

Warnings: None

Summary: You and Oscar tend to get on your brother’s nerves when you show PDA. Here are a few instances of that.

Word count: 700+

The first time it happened, it was a weekend off from racing, so you, Lando and Oscar decided to spend some time together and hang out. Y’all are currently playing Mario Kart and you are beating both of them. “For guys who drive race cars for a living, y’all suck at Mario Kart.” You tease them. Lando rolled his eyes and Oscar laughed at you. “Oh hush.” He retorted.

After you beat them once again, you decide to eat some takeout for dinner and watch a movie. You and Oscar are cuddled up on one couch while Lando is on the other. He looks over to see Oscar peppering your face in kisses. “I’m gonna vomit.” He says out loud and you start laughing. Oscar is soon to follow with the laughing. “Is someone feeling lonely over there?” You ask your brother teasingly. He rolls his eyes “No, but I still don’t want to see that.” He says with disgust.

“Oh boo. I just want to show my girlfriend some affection.” Oscar tells him. You giggle as him and Lando go back and forth with each other, all in friendly banter. “Do you plan on staying the night?” You ask Lando. He thinks about it for a moment and says he is going to. You get up and get the guest room ready.

~On a race day~

Another time you annoyed your brother was on a race day. You are standing in front of Oscar, he has his arms around your waist and his head resting on top of yours. Y’all really aren’t doing anything to crazy but Lando makes a gagging noise and pulls you away from Oscar. “No touching. I don’t want to see that.” You suppress a laugh and tell him to get over it. You go back to Oscar and give him a hug. They get called to go to their cars.

You lean up and give him a kiss and wish him good luck. You go to give Lando a hug and he is glaring at Oscar. “Calm down Lando, he’s my boyfriend and we are going to kiss.” “I still don’t like it. You’re my little sister, you’re not supposed to be kissing anybody.” He mutters. You shake your head and wish him good luck. You know he is giving you a hard time and doesn’t mean any harm by it.

~Time skip~

Today marks the two year anniversary since you and Oscar started dating. You are a little upset because Oscar has to work and is in another country at the moment. He called you earlier to say happy anniversary and it made you so happy. You go about your day and around dinner, you hear a knock on the door. Lando is standing there with a bouquet of flowers. “Special delivery.” He says. You laugh at him, knowing Oscar put him up to this. “I thought y’all were gonna be gone all week? And how much did he pay you to do this?”

“We got done early and moved some stuff around and he didn’t have to pay me anything. Just promised to keep the PDA to a minimum around me.” He teased. You rolled your eyes at him. “So where is Oscar right now?” You ask. “Just get ready to go. We are leaving in an hour.” He tells you. You put the flowers in a vase and hurry to get ready.

An hour later and Lando is taking you to the spot you and Oscar had your first official date. He is standing on the overlook with a blanket and a basket. You thank your brother and get out to go to Oscar. When you reach him, you pull him into a kiss “Happy anniversary, baby!” You say. “Happy anniversary!”

Lando rolls down the window, “I’m still here. Would it kill you two to wait till I’m gone?” He teased. You shrug your shoulders. “It actually might dear brother. Now go away, I want to spend some time with Oscar today.” He waves and drives off. “Even after all this time we’ve been together, the slightest amount of PDA still annoys him.” Oscar laughs at your comment. “I don’t think that will change.” He responds and you agree. Dinner goes well and you watch the sunset together before you head back home for the night.

[cipheress-to-k-pop]

the little princess (g.l.)

Pairing: Garfield Logan x Tamaranean!Fem!Reader

Warnings: None i think

Word Count: 3.1k

Summary: If the Titans had a nickel for every time one of Kori's sister's, that she apparently had a very bad relationship with, landed on Earth, they'd have two nickels. Which isn't much but it's weird that it happened twice.

A/N: This is just a little ode to the Starfire that was in the OG Teen Titans show because I just love her so much. She's just a little cutie patootie and I loved all of her quirks and antics. I wanted to make the oneshot a little longer and end with both Gar and her getting together but I realized that it would've been far too long and I didn't want to write all that in the same one-shot.

It was in Dick's poor judgment to listen to the police radio while they were taking the cross-country road trip while getting back to San Francisco. Well, if we're debating Dick's poor judgment, he really should have taken the jet but not like the team could do anything about it now.

They were in Nevada, near Las Vegas when the chatter on the radio went wild. He spared a glance at Starfire, wondering if they should respond but she shook her head. So far, all alerts on the police radio had been insignificant things like disruption of business or public intoxication. Nothing that required their intervention.

So, Dick didn't bother to turn his indicator on for the exit from the highway. That was until they heard something cut through the static, clear as day, "Attention all units, need immediate backup! There's some sort of human flame thrower here! Like that superhero chick!"

They shared a glance and Dick swerved off the road and into the exit, nearly hitting another car in his hurry.

It took longer than it should have to get there, considering Starfire was driving while Dick changed into his Nightwing suit in the bathroom. To say that LVMPD were surprised when an RV rolled up with five superheroes inside was an understatement.

They directed them to the building, the perimeter heavily guarded by multiple officers, all armed.

Once they entered the building, everyone froze, noting how the girl on fire in the middle of the room looked much like the one standing beside them. Her hair was glowing and floating along with her body as she clenched her molten fists.

This never would have happened if they just took the jet.

Before any of them could even come up with a game plan, their target noticed just who was standing there and stopped. When the flames and the nearly blinding glow had subsided, they noticed all that was remaining was a young girl.

"Kori?" She asked curiously, wondering if that was really Starfire or just someone who looked exactly like her. After all, it was a new planet, she didn't know much about the inhabitants here.

"(Y/N)?" Kori breathed out, equal parts shocked and relieved.

The girl's face crumpled, and she broke out into sobs before flying right into her arms, "Kori!"

It was kind of amusing to see Kori attempt to hug you back, considering that you were floating off the ground but once you were consoled, she let you go, and you remained floating a couple feet off the floor at her side.

Kori gestured to the rest of them, and you bashfully hid behind her, scared of the newcomers. Ever since you landed on this planet, they had been nothing but cruel to you. All you had done was use your powers to reheat the tea you were served and suddenly there were men who had pointed weapons at you.

You looked at Nightwing's escrima sticks apprehensively before tucking yourself further behind her back. She spared you a glance before turning to her teammates with a tolerating smile.

"Guys, meet my sister."

"Another sister? Is she gonna try and kill us too?"

"You know Komander?" You asked curiously, floating a bit higher so that your head peeked over Kori's.

"Vaguely." Conner answered and you tilted your head, watching him with a deliberating pout. He seemed a little uncomfortable by your piercing stare, so you averted your gaze before whispering in your sister's ear.

"Are they holding you hostage?"

She chuckled and shook her head before introducing all of them to you by name. You listened attentively, noticing how neither of them bothered to give you smiles aside from the youngest girl and boy named Rachel and Gar.

They had pretty hair. You liked them already.

***

"Another sister you didn't tell us about?" Dick pressed, leaning over the centre console and Kori sighed, running a hand down her face. You were floating in the back of the RV, listening intently to Tim's conspiracies about aliens and attempting to explain your history and more to him.

"I didn't think I had to. I never thought we'd actually have to run into her." She explained and he gave her a hard gaze.

"Yes, but a little heads up would have been nice."

"Well, I didn't know she was going to be here, now did I?!" She snapped and the RV was immediately silenced. She sighed and turned to give the rest of you a reassuring smile and you reluctantly went back to your conversations.

When she was sure they weren't listening, she turned back to Dick, "She's the youngest. After Komander was born without powers, the public and nobles pressed for my parents to have another child. She was born with powers and also the first one in like 5 generations to be born with the power of flight. She's considered a gem in the public eye. She can do no wrong. And she's too young to assume the throne so she's never pressured like Komander, and I were. I'm surprised they even let her off the planet."

Dick cast an uncertain eye on the woman beside him. It was obvious that she had some unresolved issues with you, although he couldn't exactly put his finger on why. From what he gathered, you were pretty delightful and made a cute first impression, unlike the time he met Jason.

"What's this?" You asked loudly, pointing to a hole in their table.

"Um, it's a sink." Gar answered, flustered that you didn't know about its existence, "It's where we wash our hands and dishes and things."

Your face scrunched up, "Well that sounds unhygienic. Can't you just acquire new ones?"

Kori rolled her eyes.

"What are you doing here, (Y/N)?" She asked, finally acknowledging you now that she had wrapped her head around it.

Your brows furrowed at her tone as you flew closer to her, "Maybe I'm assuming but are you perhaps angry with me?"

She scoffed. Of course, you didn't even know when you upset someone. People back home usually jump through hoops for you, so it was no wonder that you had absolutely no idea of other people's feelings or thought that you could do any wrong.

"Yes! What the hell are you doing here?! You can't just come to a planet like Earth and then go around causing trouble!"

"Excuse me?" You asked cautiously, trying to reason with her. You had come here to find your older sister because you thought she would know what to do. The more you spoke with her, the less she seemed like the rightful ruler and more like Komander, "What was I meant to do, Kori'Ander? Our parents were murdered, the crown princess disappeared. People began looking toward me for an answer. What was I meant to tell them?"

She scoffed once again and you were starting to get very irritated by the sound, "Of course, couldn't even run a kingdom for a while."

This struck the wrong chord. You were never quite close with your older sisters; they both considered you the runt of the family and frequently made comments about how you were too young to join them on their excursions. Kori would seem like the doting older sister to the public, but you never really connected.

And Komander hated you since birth.

It was undeniable that your parents treasured you. I mean, how could they not when you constantly strived for their attention. You didn't have any friends growing up and your sisters scorned you when you did nothing wrong, so you depended on your parents for intimacy and connection.

It wasn't rare for you to be floating around the throne room, giggling when your father teased you by attempting to catch you, even though you were way out of his reach.

The people treasured you as well, you realized that very early, when you were first introduced to them as a young girl. You had been hiding behind your mother's gown, intimidated by the sheer amount of people and held her skirt in a tight fist.

You remember your parents cooing at you as they slowly revealed you to the rest of them and then the deafening sound of the crowd cheering. Your parents watched with pride as you began flying to try and see just how many people were there and they cheered louder.

You were adored.

And even though you did want to spend time with your sisters and play with them, you were eventually steered away from them by your parents after you had returned to their room in tears and inconsolable when your sisters had slammed their door in your face when you had just asked to play.

"I'm not the one meant to be running the kingdom, Kori. You are the crown princess. It was your duty to be take over the throne or officially abdicate it. Not mine." You explained, not quite understanding why she was being so negative. This had been her birth right and her path, way before you were even born.

You didn't realize it when you were younger but as you came of age, you understood that your role in the royal family wasn't one of politics or even running the kingdom. You were nothing more than a symbol to the people. Of purity, peace, and hope.

That had been made clear, so why was she suddenly expecting you to take over?

Everyone stared out the window, trying extremely hard to blend into the surroundings. While all of them respected Kori a lot, they all knew that she was impulsive and often said things without thinking them through. While Kori was excellent at giving advice, she herself was awful at controlling her emotions and lashed out often.

Tim began making prayers that they would make it through without something catching on fire.

"I realize that (Y/N)! But you're still the princess in our absence! You should have done something instead of running away and make someone solve your problems for you!"

You gasped, "My problems?! The kingdom that you're the ruler of is my problem? I'm the one who's running away? You're the one who ran so far that you went to a completely different planet! You—You zarbnarf!"

Kori froze, watching as your eyes glassed over with furious tears. Immediately, she regretted speaking to you that way, feeling panic build in her system. It was probably because growing up, she had learnt to grow terrified whenever you began crying around her.

Because you were the golden child. The fragile flower among molten rocks and you were treasured by your parents beyond anything. If either Kori or Komander had made you cry, they usually faced a punishment. That was something that you took advantage of, as an immature, mischievous child. When had you grown up so much?

She wanted to apologize, take it back but her pride was swelling so big in her chest that it clogged her throat. She was still angry and humiliated and all the things she felt as a child began coming back to her.

How could she be so immature? She had no idea what happened on Tamaran, and she had been foolish to think it was still the place she considered home. But it was inevitable for the people to ask about their ruler. She had been running away from the thought for too long.

She had completely forgotten that you were left behind in the chaos.

"You abandoned our family! Our people! And for what? A servant’s quarters on wheels?" You spat, turning away from her. She expected you to throw open the door and fly out but instead you stomped over to the seat beside Gar, not noticing the way he began scrambling to wiggly himself out of the booth and away from you.

He was too slow, and you ended up plopping down onto the seat beside him and he stared apprehensively at you from the corner of his eye.

Kori scoffed, "Why don't you just leave?!"

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms, "I'm done with this conversation but not with you. If your first response to confrontation is to run away, then I can see why you weren't gifted with the power of flight in the first place."

She swelled, puffing out her chest, "You know what—?!"

When Kori realized that you weren't in the mood to talk anymore, she returned to her seat even though she wanted to keep yelling at you. Why did you get to decide when the argument was over? You both weren't on Tamaran anymore and your parents weren't around anymore to scold her for picking a fight with someone so much younger but still, she fumed silently in her seat.

You turned to Gar with an apologetic pout, "I apologize for calling this a servant's quarters. You have a lovely home."

He chuckled at your guilty face, "Yeah, this isn't where we live, we're just using it to get back home."

You gave him a smile, "So you're not feeling hard with me?"

He blushed furiously, ignoring Conner as he laughed quietly into his hand, "Yeah, no hard feelings here."

***

Since you were an "unwelcome" guest in Kori's eyes, you were confined to the couch when you reached the tower. She was expecting you to throw a fit or whine about having to sleep like a servant, but you didn't mind, didn't complain, didn't say anything as you sat silently on the couch.

They didn't know what caused the sudden damp in your mood, you had been smiling the entire trip back, asking questions and making conversation but it was like everything vanished the second you entered their home.

Gar came out of his room in the middle of the night for a snack when he saw you sitting up on the couch, knees pulled to your chest. He thought he would just grab whatever he needed and leave quickly but he heard you sniffle.

"You okay?"

You looked up at him startled, and quickly wiped away your tears before plastering a fake smile on your face, "I am fine. Thank you for asking."

He should have just nodded, giving you an awkward smile before retreating back to his bedroom but he seemed unable to get the apathetic words out at the site of you hiding your faltering smile behind your pink hair.

Superman had kryptonite. He had pretty girls.

"Would you like some ice cream?"

Your brows furrowed in confusion, "Iced screams? What is that?"

He chuckled, finding the way your nose scrunched up absolutely adorable, "Not 'iced screams'. Ice cream."

"Like cold milk?"

"Cold, sweet, hard milk."

You looked mildly repulsed, "I shall decline. Thank you for the offer."

He just breathed out a laugh, sitting next to you with a bowl of cookie dough and two spoons, "Just try it."

You kept giving him cautious glances all while lifting the spoon of the sugary treat to your mouth, watching as he nodded encouragingly and tentatively took a tiny taste (wow alliteration).

Gar had the absolute pleasure of watching your face scrunch up immediately, not expecting it to be that cold but it slowly faded into a small smile at the flavour.

When you had taken another spoon, he glanced at you and noticed your swollen eyes and red nose, "Is everything okay?"

You gave him a small smile and nodded, "I am merely just sick of your home."

He froze in disbelief before reminding himself that you were a literal princess. You were probably very used to luxury and had a literal castle to yourself.

And you're Komander's sister. That part explains a lot.

He shook the thoughts from his head before smiling politely and taking a spoon of ice cream himself when he didn't know how to respond. Luckily, he didn't have to because you continued.

"I know I have been here only a short time, but I miss Tamaran deeply."

The tension in his spine melted away and he slouched with a sigh of relief, "Oh, you're homesick."

You gave him a refined smile, "Yes, I just mentioned about the home-sickness."

"It's not exactly--nevermind."

There was a moment of silence while you quietly ate a couple more spoonfuls of ice cream before Gar spoke again, "No offense but if you miss it so much, why don't you just go back?"

You bit your lip, "My planet is in political instability. I'm unfit to take the throne. So, I vowed to bring the true heir back home."

His brows furrowed, "Why are you unfit to take the throne? You seem smart and powerful."

His compliment had heat raising to your cheeks and you felt a small smile grow on your face before it was dampened by the heavy topic and you sighed, resting your head against the back of the couch.

"My people wish that I take the throne because they see me as a beacon of hope but that is the very reason I am unable. My gift of flight has made me different from the rest of the Tamaraneans, so in a political sense, I have become a figurehead for nobility, equality and neutrality."

He nodded even though he wasn't quite understanding where this was headed.

"Because of this I have been trusted to be a mediator between my planet and others. I am but a symbol of peace. The rulers of other planets trust me because I am not part of the political party on Tamaran. I have never even made my debut into noble society. If I take my place as the ruler, those alliances could fall apart. The common people couldn't possibly understand that."

"So, you're supposed to be this unbiased figurehead but if you acquire any actual power, you think your alliances with other planets will fall apart?" He summarized, wanting to make sure that he actually understood, and you nodded.

"Well, why don't you just tell Kori that? I'm sure she'd understand."

Your eyes drifted to your feet that were folded up onto the sofa, "I was going to, but I lost my temper when she accused me of not taking initiative. She never acknowledged the work I did for my people. I suppose I got defensive."

He placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, giving you a comforting squeeze, "It's alright. Second time's the charm."

Your face scrunched up in confusion and he laughed quietly, "I mean, you should try again tomorrow. Maybe it'll go better this time."

"Ah."

"Hey (Y/N)?"

"Yes, Garfield?"

He offered you a small smile, "If it makes any difference, I really do believe that you did the right thing."

You felt the corners of your mouth tug up, "Thank you, Garfield."

***

Forever Taglist:

@simonsbluee

@haniscrying

@superheroesaremyjam113263

@writers-whirlwind

DC Taglist:

@emmacata

@p--e--a--c--h--e--s

@sometimeseverythingsucks

@sokkas-honour

@unstable1902

@lostgirlheart

@missdisapear

@tadpole-san

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@uxavity

@battlenix

@capricorn-stark

@evermoore580

@dumbbitchgalore

@fuckingjinkies

@some-lovely-day

[cheriladycl01]

Could you do fic for Toto Wolff with wife reader? Where they had a date on their anniversary and as they were walking baking in each other's presence, there was a fireworks. Watching fireworks with Toto. Fluff and sweet. Thanks!! :))

I remember, do you? - Toto Wolff x Wife! Reader

Plot: in which you and toto like to play a game called I remember, do you? Whenever you guys have important dates out!

You and your husband Toto had busy lives, between your business and him running across the country every other weekend to manage an F1 team and parenting it was hard to find time for each other.

Luckily on your 10 year anniversary, Lewis and George had band together and offered child care for free for the whole evening and day after for you and Toto to go out.

You’d had an incredible meal, in a restaurant recommended by George and Carmen. It was very fancy and the perfect location for your anniversary.

You guys had wined and dined there for the whole evening just being able to catch up and all that you guys had missed in each others lives which was surprisingly more than you’d both expected.

After you’d had your filling of high class food and champagne you decided it would be nice for an evening walk.

His large arms wrap around you as you step out the restaurant as he pulls you closer to him almost to protect you from the biting autumn winds. You nuzzle closer into him.

“You want to play our game?” He asks looking down at you with a smile and you nod.

You’d come up with the game, called I remember do you? Where you’d tell a story and ask if they remembered the true accounts of what happened.

“You go first then” you smile hugging closer into him.

“Okay, I remember the first time I brought you to the paddock and Nico and Lewis were basically fighting over who would get to meet you first, do you?” He asks and you laugh a little.

“Mmmm I think they definitely thought I was going to be … older? They were shocked I think they were expecting a motherly figure but ended up with someone close to their age” you admit.

“I remember when we were on holiday in Trinidad and Tobago and those guys came up to me on the beach and they were asking me to come to that local bar for a drink and they stopped the minute you came over, all moody and broody and walked away, do you?” You ask with a laugh, very fond of the memory.

“Mmm i think my version of that story is a little different” he laughs a different look in his eyes as he tries to recall his account.

“How do you remember it then?” You ask eyes wide as you look up at him.

“Well it ended up in me threatening them and beating them up but we were both very intoxicated on Caribbean liquor the whole of that holiday” he laughs knowing that his memories might not be the most trustworthy for that holiday.

“Okay, I remember when we had that really big argument about how alone Theo was and that progressed into Tilly happening, do you?” he grins thinking back to the most memorable argument you two had ever had in your marriage.

“I do, i yelled at you a lot and then you were just all over me, kissing every inch of my body” you giggle remembering the way Theo your son had ended up with a little sister.

“You know, I think it would be perfect time to try for another” he admits, pulling you in closer and his cold hands finding his way under your jumper and rubbing circles on your hips as he spins you guys to a stop on the pavement to look over you.

“Yeah? I think now is a good time too” you nod agreeing with him.

“Okay, I remember when I left for a week for work, and when I came back Theo was obsessed with the idea of driving because all you’d done everyday for the whole week was take him to the Karting Track near us, do you?” You ask with a pointed look.

“I do, and Theo was the one that asked! I didn’t force him” he cries out to defend himself, knowing that his son would just have racing in his blood.

“Mmmmm well I guess if he wants to, then it cannot be helped” you laugh pulling him by his hand to continue walking.

“I remember when you were pregnant and we got stuck on that train going from London to Brackley, and it broke down and you had no food or water and you were crying from how hungry you were and then that kid offered you his chocolate bar, and you were tying so hard not to cry, do you?” He asks and you look up at him shocked.

“No? Wait when was this?”

“Oof now you’re testing me. You must have been about 8 months pregnant, with Tilly and we were on our way to the factory to have a meeting with Lewis and George?” He says recalling the day and you look up at him trying to wrack your own brain for the memory.

“I have no recollection of that, that’s so strange” you admit trying to think back to the stormy train.

“Well we’ll just blame it on pregnancy brain huh?ñ he jokes as you cross over the quiet evening road onto a bridge above the Thames River.

You guys continue the game for a little longer until loud noises and bright lights interrupt.

In seconds the sky is lit up with both colour fireworks and the smoke that dissipates from them. The sounds booming and sizzling in your ears.

You didn’t even know what they were for, there weren’t any festivals, and it wasn’t even close to bonfire night yet. And these fireworks, it felt like they were for the two of you.

You guys stopped walking over the bridge and pushed to watch the fireworks and the shapes that they formed in the sky.

“Oh woah, look at that one! It looks like a star” you exclaim seeing the gold coloured firework spike out a 5 different points resembling that shape.

“Argh they’re so pretty” you smile and Toto nods in agreement, even though he isn’t paying attention to the fireworks, the only place he can see them is in your eyes.

The look of awe on his face is all he can focus on.

“Beautiful” he murmurs and you turn to look at him to see him watching you. You blush a deep red pulling him in closer to you to hide your embarrassment.

Taglist:

@littlebitchsposts @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[oneforthemunny]

A song that reminds you of each of your Eddie's + reader- and GO!

ooh wait this is a fun one. ok i had to think about this one but i think i've found them:

boxer!eddie and reader remind me of somethin' stupid by frank sinatra and nancy sinatra. two little black cats in love, and the chorus "and have a drink or two, and then i go and spoil it all by saying somethin' stupid like, "i love you". i can see it in your eyes that you despise the same old lies you heard the night before. and though it's just a line to you, for me it's true and never seemed so right before."

rockstar!eddie and nepobaby!reader will forever remind me of faithfully by journey. i mean, "and lovin' a music man ain't always what it's supposed to be. oh, girl, you stand by me. circus life under the big-top world. we all need the clowns to make us smile. through space and time, always another show. wonderin' where I am lost without you. i'm forever yours, faithfully."

this one is going to be so fucking corny and idgaf!!! but for modern!eddie and mean girl, idk why true love by p!nk always comes to mind. "at the same time, i wanna hug you, i wanna wrap my hands around your neck. you're the only love i've ever known. but i hate you, i really hate you, so much i think it must be true love. just once try to wrap your little brain around my feelings, just once please try no to be so mean."

cowboy!eddie and sweet girl have always and will forever remind me of love is like a butterfly by the one and mother fucking only dolly parton our lord and savior. "love makes your heart feel strange inside, it flutters like soft wings in flight. love is like a butterfly, a rare and gentle thing. i feel it when you kiss me, it happens when you're with me, that rare and gentle feelin' that i feel inside. everyday is springtime, and i am only happy when you are by my side." tbh i could quote the whole goddam song.

bouncer!eddie and bartender!reader this is another corny as fuck on so hold on, but it's you shook me all night long by acdc lmaooo. sexual chemistry through the roof, so much that it's shocking and appalling?? "she was a fast machine, she kept her motor clean. she was the best damn woman that I ever seen. she's one of a kind, she's just mine, all mine." idk it's silly and slutty and fun just like them!

for janitor!eddie and teacher!reader i've always felt like forever by the beach boys is their song. super sappy and romantic and devoted and that's how they are to each other <3 "if every word i said could make you laugh, i'd talk forever. i asked the sky just what we had, it shone forever. let the love i have for you, live in your heart and be forever. forever, i've been so happy loving you."

older!eddie and reader, this one was hard bc i felt like there was so many to chose from, but ultimately i went with the one song that always takes me back to them and that's chemtrails over the country club by lana. the more i listen, the more it's their song bc "go to the market, the kids' swimming pools. me and my sister just playing it cool, under the chemtrails over the country club. meet you for coffee at the elementary schools. we laugh about nothing as the summer gets cool. it's beautiful how this deep normality settles down over me. i'm not bored or unhappy, i'm still so strange and wild. washing my hair, doing the laundry. late-night tv, i want you only. it's never too late, baby, so don't give up."domestic and sweet.

this is also so silly and sweet and the best thing ever but for hockey!eddie and reader i fucking love the song hello, hello by elton john (yes from gnomeo and juliet lmaoooo). "never gonna find anything to change my mind, famous last lines of a fool. hello, hello. my, my, my, what have we here? sniffing all the flowers, running through an autumn shower, compare it to someone else like me." so fucking silly and so romantic like it's them. happy and silly and in love.

and i know you guys are making fun of me and i don't give one fuck bc i know you're about to do it again with this one bc it's coming completely out of left fucking field for these two!! for mafia!eddie and reader... babe i'm saying it, it's i see the light from tangled yes it fucking is. "all that time never even knowing, just how blind i've been. now i'm here, blinking in the starlight. and it's warm and real and bright, and the world has somehow shifted. all at once everything looks different, now that i see you. all those years living in a blur. if she's here, it's crystal clear, i'm where i'm meant to go." and listen, i could write a goddam essay on how this is them, both of them. living their lives before, thinking they're content, until they met the other and now they're confused how they were ever without the other. real ride or die shit.

for dom!eddie and sub!reader, i always think of i don't want to miss a thing by aerosmith lol. really bc they're a little chaotic but they really do love each other sm. true soulmate shit. "i could spend my life in this sweet surrender, where a moment with you is a moment i treasure. i don't wanna miss one smile, i don't wanna miss one kiss. i just wanna be with you, right her with you, just like this. and i just wanna hold you close, feel your heart so close to mine, and just stay here in this moment for all the rest of time." overly passionate and lovey and dramatic which is just their style.

[crowwithacomputer]

Thoughts on Arcane S2 so far (devastated) and small predictions (even more devastated)

With Spoilers

On Jinx and Vi

Nothing better than discovering that your dad is actually not dead but a literal fucking beast and now you have to talk to your sister who turned emo/crazy to save him.

+ Silco and Vander were besties.

I'm happy to see the new relationship between these two after all. So much to apologise and so much to say, and also trying to save the country. I just hope they have small sister fights constantly.

On Caitlyn

I must admit I didn't see Cait coming because I thought she just turned evil but turns out people are complex beings and Cait is not Ambessa.

"Caitlyn is not distracted" that's such a hard line from Vi. She was so distracted by Ambessa but she's right back on track. I love seeing THE lesbians back. Now, they have a lot to talk about and mostly with Jinx, because that sister-in-law relationship is, well, it's definitely a relationship.

On Isha

Wow. I don't even know how to feel because WOW. She was one of the strongest characters I've seen. She loved these people, who by the way she (more or less) just met and she sacrificed her entire life for them and many more. THAT'S strong. I'm gonna miss her and I'm sure Jinx is NOT letting this slide.

On Jayce and Viktor

Jayce is so absolutely traumatised he went insane and I'm just hoping Viktor didn't actually die because I will start killing people, but I'm not mad at him. Mostly I want to see how he turns out. Of course he didn't want to kill him but he did what he thought was okay.

I think the final speech Viktor gave was absolutely amazing. Again, the complexity of the characters is something I had definitely never seen before (although I haven't consumed as much media as I would like to), and how the writers were able to build everything has me crying.

My prediction is that Jayne will be suffering quite a lot and think about Viktor nonstop. The thing is (coming from my own sadness) I think Viktor is not dead, but his body is. He transcended human nature and will be talking to Jayce, maybe through whatever the hammer has going on. My boy Jayce has it BAD.

I want at least a hug and Jayce bawling his eyes out. Ugly crying. Snot, tears and drool all over his face apologising to Viktor and not knowing what to do. And then they both smooch in the weird arcane realm they're in. *figurines clicking together sounds*

Now for real, I would love it if Viktor got into his mind when he sleeps of whatever and talks to him. Maybe he explains what he's seen and Jayce and him fight over what to do, because they have extremely different views on Hextech. That will be a good fight to see.

On Ekko and Mel

Oh god what is going on. For real what are they putting my girl and my boy through. Someone help these people.

Like, Jayce got out but where the fuck are Ekko and Heimendinger? And Mel is just lost in the weirdest realm ever, even worse than whatever Viktor has going on. All of this will be cleared out in the next episodes but damn. There's A LOT to clear out.

My thoughts

I must admit I didn't do a rewatch and that's leaving me with a few questions, but I'll probably watch it all over again and see the full show at its finest.

I will say that in the series that I watch I usually pick favourites. If they're not on screen I lose interest, but this show has me on a chokehold. Every one of these characters are so important and so interesting, and I think that's what makes a show good.

Beautiful writing, beautiful storytelling, beautiful art, beautiful pace. I just love it. As an amateur writer I love seeing this, it's such an inspiration to continue. It's so hard to watch knowing my favs will be going through hell but as a writer it's amazing to see how well the writers built that hell. So to conclude:

The girls are all against Ambessa, me and my besties overthrowing the government.

Jayce and Viktor having yet ANOTHER boyfriend fight, biblical edition.

Mel and Ekko are having the worst weed paranoia ever seen, now with magic.

The whole country is collapsing and these stupid bitches have to save it with the power of friendship and gayness, and I'm here for it.

Thank you for coming to my ted talk.

[a-aexotic]

half & half. part 005. previous

warnings ;

taglist: @steveharringtonswifey09 @starkeysmp4 @mannstarkey @readingbcimlonely

Last night was a complete haze for you, you couldn't even process it because you had to get up to work. Work was going like usual, customer after customer.

You were pretty much a like zombie trying to get through work. You hadn't even drank a single cup of coffee and you felt like you were there. You couldn't even think straight because of your head pounding.

You didn't get much sleep last night; there was too much going on in your head. JJ, Rafe, Sarah, the Pogues, your job, college. Your mind was on a loop until the early morning. Summer was supposed to be relaxing and right now, it felt like anything but relaxing.

When you were finally done at the country club at 4:30 pm, you glad took your leave and started driving home. These past few nights have been insanely eventful and you just wanted some time alone.

You came home, ate, showered (and shaved), lathered your skin up in your favorite lotion and topped it all off with a cute pink night set you got. You went into bed and sighed at the warm feeling, turning on your TV and turned on your LEDs.

You turned on your comfort show and watched for about five minutes before, almost comically, someone knocked on your window.

You wanted to face palm yourself. You almost thought you misheard it until you heard it again. Of course the universe wouldn't let you have on peaceful night.

You put on your slippers and went to the window. You weren't completely surprised to see JJ standing there, an apologetic look on his face.

You opened the window to let him in and you stood there, arms crossed as he closed the window after him. You both stood there in silence for a few seconds before he spoke up.

"I wanted come here and say I'm sorry." JJ finally spoke up, his voice barely above a whisper. "I said things I shouldn't have and I know I hurt you, but I am sorry. It won't happen again." He looked like a hurt puppy, looking up at you.

"It's fine."

"No, it's not. When Pope said you were going to apologize-"

"Wait, what?"

He stopped and thought for a second, "Shit. Uh..."

"I'll deal with Pope another time." You felt like an overworked mother with four annoying little brats you had to deal with. "Continue."

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I just say stupid shit when I'm angry."

"Yeah you do." She said flatly, as JJ pursed his lips tightly. You let out a sigh, "do you really think I nag you?"

JJ looked a deer caught in headlights before shaking his head slowly.

"Be honest, JJ."

"Sometimes. I mean you act more like my mother than my sister sometimes and yeah, it does get a little annoying..."

You wanted to get angry but you couldn't. This is healthy communication, you kept repeating in your head.

JJ noticed your silence, "I still love you though. I know you mean well."

Your lips moved upwards slightly into a small smile. "I love you, too."

JJ smiled at you, realizing he had finally gotten on your good side once again.

You opened your arms for a hug and he gladly walked up to you, embracing you tightly. He basked in your warmth and your familiar perfume; you hadn't changed your signature smell since freshman year.

"I don't know what I'm going to do with you, Y/N/N. How am I going to survive?"

"I'll still be with you in spirit, JJ." You guys separated. "And you can always call or Facetime, I'm not dead."

He laughed. "Yeah, but it's still not going to be the same."

You shook your head, "Let's not think about this now, okay?"

He nodded slightly, a smile still evident on his tanned face.

"You wanna watch a movie?"

Rafe had been in his room all day trying to figure what his feelings meant. He has never been so conflicted in his entire life, especially over feelings towards a girl.

Well, he wouldn't call you just a girl. If someone asked him a month ago how he felt about you, that about sums it up. You were just a girl to him but that all changed the night you had found him on that beach.

No one has ever done anything so selfless for him. You could've left him there on the beach and he wouldn't have even remembered it. But you went out of your way to help him. Not only help him, but actually take care of him.

The day after you had saved him, he woke up and he just looked at you for a few minutes, trying to process how everything that had happened. He'd only just remember the last few hours of the night, the rest was a blur.

The only thing that stuck out to him was his newfound feelings. When he looked at you, his heart felt like it was going to jump out of his body in the best way imaginable as he remembered the night before.

He never looked at you the same after that day. You weren't just a girl; you weren't just one of Sarah's friends anymore, you were more than that now. And that scared Rafe.

He'd never felt that way about anyone in a while. He was sure that he'd never felt this way ever because of how foreign it felt.

When he saw you downtown that night when that man was bothering you, it was like a instinct to go and help you. He had to make sure nothing happened to you now, because you were his savior. It wasn't even about owing it to you, it was just what felt most natural to him.

He had never been more confused. Did he like you? And if he did, how would he be able to show it without coming off weird? His mind raced, what was he going to do about you?

[tmwcs]

My Roommates Ex - Chapter 3

Chapter 3! Woohoo!

Pairings: You and Heeseung

Warnings: Uh yeah, this one has lots of smut. Unprotected sex, sexual dominance, maybe a hint/vibe of slight breeding kink and pain kinks. Not terribly so with this chapter, but future chapters...yeah we're going to have a talk about that.

Summary:

Months had passed since then, and Vicky transferred to a different school. She cut off her ties with Gabe and said goodbye to the girls as she embraced a newfound outlook in life.

You were shocked the day when she told you as you entered the dorm room to see her waiting on your bed, she greeted you with a smile and patted down on a pile of neatly folded clothes and accessories that laid on your bedspread next to her.

“I wanted to give these to you. I don’t need them anymore.” She looked up to you and smiled widely.

Though it was a nice gesture, you didn’t necessarily have the same taste as Vicky when it came to clothes and the number of accessories she used. The sense of fashion was very similar, but the fondness of wearing such revealing attire, especially daily, wasn’t your thing. A crop top here and there might have been okay, but you already knew that her gift was going to be unused.

Still, you accepted them graciously.

That’s when she informed you of her decision to transfer. She explained that after thinking about it, it was something she deeply yearned for. A fresh start.

Both you and the girls went with Vicky to the airport, giving her a proper send off. Everyone cried as they took turns hugging and sharing words. You were the last one to say goodbye to, but it felt like you were the one that Vicky wanted to hug the most, upon feeling the tight and prolonged squeeze of her embrace. Her words brought the tears to glaze over your eyes.

“As painful as it was, seeing Ethan finding happiness with someone else, was something that I needed to see. It was something that needed to happen, in order for me to be the person I truly want to be.” She smiles as she admits.

Those were her last words as you before she left for her terminal, waving widely towards you and the girls as she smiled.

Keeping in touch, many texts and phone calls were exchanged daily. You were always happy to hear that Vicky was doing well, she was becoming exceedingly happy. Changing her program while also making new friends, you felt immense joy for her. Especially at the mention of a certain young man she had began seeing, a student of the same college that had fancied her ever since she transferred.

Though Vicky turned a new leaf, some things will never change. You chuckled the moment she revealed that the man was the son of the CEO that managed one of the largest corporations in the country. But you smiled whole heartedly as you saw that she still had her heart in the right place, identified as she mainly spoke of the young man’s personality more than his inheritance.

At times you gazed at the side of the room she had previously occupied, it was now stark empty. It triggered you to leak out a few tears sometimes. Knowing she was doing much better in her new setting; you couldn’t help but sometimes wish she was still with you.

Often succumbing to leaking a few tears whenever you saw her side of the room. She had become like a sister that you never had, and you would always relay that message to her whenever you got the chance to, which she would always respond with;

“We are sisters you goofball! We’re family.”

Another Saturday morning rolls by and you’re excited that Spring Break was finally here. You looked at your calendar and it amazed you just how much time had passed since you moved into the dorm, nearly a whole year from today. You recall moments from when you moved in during the spring. Moments popped in your head, like you meeting Vicky, Heeseung, and some of his closest friends, such as Jake.

It felt like it all went through in a blink of an eye. Vicky’s transfer happened only five months ago, yet it felt longer than that. You found it so strange how time had an opposing effect when it came to the experiences you gained through it.

You reach over to your desk and started going through the unread mail you picked up yesterday, seeing an envelope from Vicky got you excited as you tore it open quickly revealing an adorable postcard. It was a photo of her and the young man she had been dating, Sunghoon was his name, and he seem like such a nice man. You recall the first time you got to speak to him, when Vicky would invite him to sit next to her so he could participate in your facetime calls with her.

He was very soft and respectful; he always had this twinkle in his eye reflecting pure joy whenever he would stare at Vicky. You could tell he was a perfect match for her, and looked forward to the day when you can meet him in person and see Vicky again.

Taking a moment to review the postcard, the photo was of Vicky and Sunghoon during their visit to Africa on a safari trip. You chuckled at seeing Sunghoon and Vicky in a tight embrace with the fantastic view of wildlife in the behind them. You turn it over to read Vicky’s note on the back.

“Sis! I’m getting married! Right after college of course, but since we’re starting our second year already, the next two are going to go by even faster, so, we can’t waste time. I want to see you and the girls soon! Let’s all come up with a date for you guys to come visit me and Sunghoon next month. I’ll message in the group chat when I get back. Can’t wait to see everyone!

PS: Before your bring Ethan, take him clothes shopping first.”

“Married? Wow.” You remarked aloud to yourself, but not without a smile presently stationed on your face. It will be so nice to see her and meet Sunghoon, especially after receiving the news, and you couldn’t wait to tell the girls.

You pin the postcard on the corkboard in front of your desk, placing it in between the photos of your mom and dad, your elder siblings, the girls, and of course, you and Heeseung. You even had a photo of Emily and Jake pinned up.

Vicky’s departure to a new college wasn’t the only significant event that had transpired five months ago, it was also marked the length of time that you and Heeseung had been together.

Your bond with him grew even closer. With all the number of dates and quality time spent in your respective dorms, you both had become inseparable. Not to mention the evening routines that took place, nearly every single night. Even though you and Samuel had dated for 8 months, sharing many intimate moments, it didn’t compare to the countless sessions that you and Heeseung had.

Sometimes multiple times in one day, which made you quickly found out that your body needed a period of adjustment when you recall feeling the soreness from all the action.

You brush your teeth and think about your nights with Heeseungm they all played out the same for the most part.

You think about how he can’t manage to keep his hands off you and always sets the mood by lightly brushing his fingers on a random part of your body, whether it was your arms, legs, hands, or chest.

The brush of his touch was always accompanied by a gushing breath he would release close to your ear, hearing just a sliver of his voice within it, and expressing his desire and triggering yours.

The way his hands roamed, and how his hair nested against your cheek as he dug his face into the nook of your neck, sucking, kissing, biting, and licking the sensitive skin until it became marked by his act. His nose would graze your temple as he would whisper in your ear, as he gave soft rose-petal kisses in between. The tickling of it was paired with a sexually appeasing sensation to your body, whenever you felt the tapping of his lips or the heat of his whispers rushing into your ear.

Playing out the performance in your head made you recall a moment where you had learned something very interesting about Heeseung’s sexual nature. It had the same effect of Dr. Jekyl and Mr. Hyde, a doubling entity that emerged from within him depending on the sexual mood he was in. They reflected two sides to his performance in sex.

They both still classfieid as “fucking”, yet there was a difference in the type and the degree of his nature.

One side was his gentler one, the Dr. Jekyl entity. It was the persona of his sexual nature where he still maintained dominance, but he would allow you to have some unit of control. This part of him was a lot more tame and less animalistic, and it allowed you to have enough stability in your body and mind to move and think. It was his way of permitting you the freedom to do things to him, such as holding on to his wrists when you would kiss his most sensitive areas like his neck or ears. You would do your best to pin them down long enough, but he would overpower you every single time as he resisted the urge to lay still once, he felt your kisses.

Still, you would at least get a few seconds of seeing him vulnerable as you put up a fight in holding him down, and that was something you could only get away with due his nature reflecting Jekyl.

There were other examples of his permissive freedom, such as, when he would let you make the first move and allotted you to do so at your own pace. It normally would begin with him lying flat on his back, his hands behind his head as his elbows bent out to the sides, and his hat traditionally covering the significant features of his face. He would remain still letting you straddle him as you removed your shirt, which would always be the last remaining piece of clothing you had on prior to sitting on top of him, or a dress even.

He would deeply admire your how your body would flex and tone up as you lifted the cloth and raised it high, your arms crossed above your face as you turned off to the side with your hair flowing all around you. His will would break the very moment you dragged the cloth upwards, slowly revealing every measurement of skin as the regions of your body are revealed in order, belly button first, then breasts, collar bone, and shoulders last.

Your neck and face would return to frontal view as you swipe the clothing over, the collected strands of your hair grouped up through the loophole of the cloth would fall and dangle over your breasts, waist, and hips, each strand trickling down the farther you pull the material off and away from your body, generating a waterfall effect.

Lastly, and the most significant note to this side of Heeseung, was giving you total control of the main aspects that play a vital role regarding passionate sex, the tone, rhythm, and speed.

The three categories that often times, men strive to control. Heeseung wasn’t an exception having that strive, he loved being in control. However, he also loved experiencing the way you love him, emotionally and physically, and he could only witness it by letting you have some of it.

Once you removed your shirt, you’d reach down and gently stroke him, maintaining eye contact. A desire within you wanted to feel him in both your hands, before having him enter. Something about memorizing the thickness, length, and smoothness of his shaft, helped ease the process as you guide him inside and begin riding him.

The part he loved most about this was when he watches the sexual expression on your face. He always stared, and admired the way your beautiful face would display the initial sense of shock and pain upon you inserting him, doing everything by your own bidding. He loved watching you do it to yourself. The way that your mouth would gasp open and your brows furrowing in pain the moment you would tear yourself open by fitting him in, your face flinching as you felt the bite of his sting.

You moved passionately, slowly, and steadily as your hips would vibrate once his dick was fully inside you. Your walls are reintroduced to the throbbing numbness when you feel him rubbing against the flesh as you move him in and out.

The softness of his skin and the protrusion of veins creates a wild combination of smoothness and friction each time your hips dipped low, pushing him in, then roll back, pulling him out, all repeating in a cycle that becomes more vibrant as you keep it rotating. Your hips sway back and forth gently, while dipping into him hard and deep.

The weight of your body drops in mid wave, pulling you down and sealing every mesh of space that remained in between you two, as you begin to surpass the pain and sink into a pool of ultimate pleasure, wanting to feel every single part of him fill you.

You would feel him twitch inside, hinting to you that it was becoming harder for Heeseung to suppress the beast within him. Remaining in the same position as he did from the moment you straddled him, you’d watch him testing his willpower by refraining any movement, not even his hands. You keep riding him, watching as he stayed committed in laying there, and took every motion your hips were performing on him as your rotation of dipping, lifting, and rolling, keeps going.

Your body would gradually pick up speed, just a little, as your walls drooled all over him, making it easier for you to slide him in and out. The rush of ecstasy takes over your mind, body, and soul as you reach up with both hands, collecting your hair and pinning it up while you perform your moves, the loose strands surrounding your face and falling from your hands piece by piece as you begin bouncing up and down.

Once he felt you both were drawing close to orgasm, he marked his que and draws the line. Being so close to the finish line, this is the moment where Heeseung takes over.

“Fuck baby…” He bites his lip as he grunts. His low voice would go slightly higher in pitch during the times when he let you fuck his Jekyl side.

With a jerk of his hips thrusting into you, simultaneously removing his hands from his under head, he grabs around the smallest part of your waistline. He pulls you down as he continues to jerk up, and within one or two hard thrusts, he regains altitude as a swarm of adrenaline infuses him with the energy to fucks into you. You feel the strength of his thrusts pushing the both of you over the edge, beyond just pleasure.

“My fucking beautiful girl…fuck…keep riding it baby. Fucking take it.” His groans fuel you to keep moving and taking him in. Then, at the peak of his momentum, you feel him jam into you one last time, holding you in place as he lets his cock throb inside your walls, cumming inside you.

It shoots out fast and strong at first, then gradually comes to a slow stream of release as his twitching slowly decreases. You feel your walls press against him, squeezing everything out of him. The repeated action of your flesh re-clenching slurps every bit of his cum, vacuuming it deeper into you as the sharpness of the tingle and numbness overtrumps the height of Mount Everest, making you scream.

Your hips jolt each time his dick twitches, pairing in sync. His hand roams up to your back and he pulls you in to lay atop his chest, kissing his own breaths into you as your chest tightens against his, breathing into each other as you slowly regain your energy.

This was the side that you had seen most of, nearly a hundred percent of the time.

[mad0katsuki]

Tw vent and mention of the 💀

Today is November 2nd and is almost to end.

I think that almost no one is aware of my nationality as such (since I mostly write in English and even though I say that my native language is Spanish, there are too many countries that speak it lol), but mentioning the first thing, it shows that I am from Mexico, so Yes, this is a Day of the Dead post. In my family we don't celebrate it much as they usually show it, altars, going to the cemetery, spending it with the family, etc. But they tend to get very sentimental on this day. I say usually because it never happened to me like that, not until this year.

I had never lost someone so relevant in my life that I felt completely sad. I have too many dead relatives, but I never cared much, it only hurt me to see how close relatives of mine suffered, and that was what hurt me. Somehow I felt very empty and selfish.

I have only been to two funerals before last year, my paternal grandfather's and my great-grandmother's. I never met my great-grandmother until I saw her in a photo because she was cremated; On the other hand, I knew my grandfather when I was little but I didn't like him very much because of how he treated my father. But I still cried. I cried for my grandfather, my mother and my uncles who had lost the person who kept my maternal family closer. I cried for my father who, although he seemed cold, I know how much he suffered when he lost the man he once wanted to be on good terms with. I never cried for the dead ones.

My dad had a sister, which made her my aunt. I would say that she was the only one of her siblings that I really knew, I went to her house, ate what she prepared, played with me, talked to her and was the mother of the only cousins I talk to, but there was a problem, she had an illness that It only got worse (they never told me what it was). A year ago in March she passed away. It was the first time I felt like I lost part of my soul. It was very stressful, especially for my dad because she was the only one of his sisters he talked to and cared for, but she was no longer there. I remember that during the entire wake, mass and funeral I couldn’t attend, I spent it in my bed. I couldn't see anyone, least of all my dad. But that only lasted one weekend because no matter how sad I am, they don't let me stay like that for long (lol), I just stayed sad.

I couldn't talk to my cousins for a long time, the truth is I didn't talk to almost anyone about it, I think the only ones who knew were my countability teacher and an ex friend with whom I fought at that time, but that's another story. I think I lost a lot of people by being in that mood.

Then during that period I lost my first cat, Peluso. He was already old and only lasted several months with me, I think he was just looking for a safe place to leave, but he was the only living being that I felt for a long time understood me.

Last year I was still stuck with that thing about my aunt and my cat, but this year I realized that neither of them are there. It's the first time I don't feel angry that someone is leaving me, it's the first time I'm actually crying about how I feel, I feel sad, they don’t leave me because they wanted to, they just gone. I want to visit my aunt again. I want to hug my cat again. I miss them a lot.

If you read this thank you. I feel really weird talking about this subject and I tried to don’t look like an attention seeker or something, I just wanted to let out something that is on my mind frequently. Even more when my dad say that even if I look like my mother I have the freckles of that auntie heh

Have a great night/day/evening

Y para mi gente Latino feliz día de los muertos, si perdieron a un ser querido o a alguna mascotita espero que hayan podido pasar la noche con ustedes <3

[groenendaelfic]

touch starved Wille ficlet

set during the second half of season 1

The two of them are sitting in the park, alone. Simon is still missing payments from August, and his mom is texting him about stopping by the store on the way home.

There is homework, too. The annoying kind, the one which is needlessly repetitive and takes ages to complete, not the challenging kind, the one which Simon actually doesn't mind all that much, as if their teachers' sole goal is to suck all the freedom and joy out of their lives and tie them down with eternal boredom.

But for now he and Wille have a few minutes to themselves, before they have to go back up to the school for class.

They have found a nice secluded corner, Wilhelm's protection officers out of sight and the afternoon sun high above the lake.

Wille, next to him, is fumbling with his sleeves and staring out onto the water.

"You’re the only one who touches me anymore," he says into the quiet, clearly lost in thought.

Their knees are touching, and Wille’s voice is sad, a desperate note in it that hurts Simon in his very soul.

Simon wants to argue, but can’t.

It’s true. Ever since Wille became Crown Prince it seems as if the entire school took a very respectful step back and stopped seeing Wille as anything other than the heir to the throne.

The teachers won’t even call Wille by his name anymore, and most of the other students are the same, either out of respect or because they are afraid of doing anything wrong.

"I mean my parents were never …"—and here Wille breaks off, only to cross his arms in front of him in a self-soothing hug—"but now it’s not even, like, slaps on the back from the rowing team anymore. Even August is suddenly all different, and … I don't like it."

"Wille," Simon says, pulling the other boy close and wondering how he got there, attending one of the fanciest boarding schools in the country with the Crown Prince, someone who stands for everything he hates, and yet all he can think about, all he can see, is how handsome the other boy is, even with the anguish in his eyes, and how much he wants to kiss him and caress him and enfold him in his arms to keep safe forever.

Wille lets himself be drawn into Simon's embrace and immediately buries his face in Simon's neck, arms still wrapped around himself.

"When I came back after … after … the headmistress asked me if there was anything she could do for me, anything at all, and all I could think about was that I really wanted another hug. I don’t think you’re supposed to hug headmistresses after the age of six."

"Wille," Simon repeats, not knowing what to say. There was never a lack of physical affection in his life.

His mother and sister hug him all the time, and he, Ayub and Rosh are always up in each other’s spaces as well.

He never lacked physical attention, not when Micke was at his worst and not ever, quite the opposite, nor does he crave it the way Wille obviously does. Or maybe he just never had to go a day without a hug from his mom and so never noticed.

The protection officers who are now Wille’s constant shadows don’t help either. They make Simon feel weird and uncomfortable, and he can only imagine what it must be like for Wilhelm, who cannot step a single foot outside of his room without them, and won't be able to for the rest of his life, because he's the Crown Prince, and that means he's constantly being watched and protected, but never hugged.

Even if he can’t see them he knows they are always within earshot, and yet he’s supposed to pretend as if they aren’t there, because they are there to do a job, and asking them to turn around will only result in a decisive—and sometimes awkward—no.

Simon knows, it happened before.

He does not tell Wille that he's sorry, that won't help, but he does tighten his hug and pulls him closer, and it only takes a short hesitation from Wille before he lets go of his own embrace and wraps his arms around Simon, clinging to him so Simon can't let go.

He's not going to. He is quite sure he loves the other boy, who has so quickly become an intrinsic part of his life, and he does not want to let go of him, not ever.

He doubts he could if he wanted to.

[creedslove]

Hello baby.

The truth is that I have been having a bad time these days. My dad gave me a car but no one wants to teach me how to drive. The car he gave me is too big for my size and I can't reach the pedals, and even though I tried to explain it, he ignored me and told me I had to used to. Now he sold the one I had and bought another one, it turned out the same or worse.

The thing is that my mom and sister talked to me and told me that I have to talk to my dad and tell him that I don't want to and that the car doesn't work for me. Besides, I have to tell him that I was not accepted at the university for which I applied for the exam.

The problem is that I am very afraid of facing people and speaking for what I want, costs me too much work, I know it is silly but I am very afraid of facing talking to people and it makes me anxious to think about how they are going to scold me. I feel that I am very weak and I would like to be firm but I can't do it. I feel like I fail at many things and I'm really not as good as I thought I was and I feel very bad.

I just wanted to tell it, reading is a safe place for me and so is this blog. I feel like the way you interact with us is too warm and safe. Even if it's anonymous, I feel like I can tell something and receive some nice and genuine response, it's like a hug that I don't dare ask for.

Anyways, I just vent here but I think there's some things I can't talk with some persons in my life, and do anon here it's a way to deal with, for me. Thank you a lot for your amazing stories, it's a safe place for me.

💗💗💗💗

I hope you're Alright and I send you hugs.

Hi baby, I'm very sorry I haven't replied to you earlier, I've been busy but I'm happy to know you feel alright and safe here, may you continue having those positive feelings and using this space to vent and talk about whatever you wish! ❤️

I completely understand you, I truly do... First of all about the car, it's a shame they don't understand why the car isn't the right fit for you and that this might add to the nervousness or insecurity you must feel when it comes to driving... May I ask you how old you are? Because I'm 27, I don't know how to drive but I'll start my driving lessons next month and I'm excited but quite nervous about the fact I might be seen as "too old" (in my country we get our driver's license at the age of 18 but I never got mine for a number of reasons)

Nonetheless, I hope this car situation is already solved by now but if it isn't, remember it isn't the end of the world, eventually you'll find someone nice enough to help you or even find an instructor and learn how to drive, you'll be able to drive off anywhere you want, be independent and not worry about this anymore honey ❤️

Now, about you being afraid of facing people, I understand it in a spiritual level because until like a month ago I was like that, even if I'm nearly 30 I was still asking for permission or approval, mostly from my dad, because I was terrified of disappointing or making him angry, but once he had the stroke and I had to handle everything, I realized I am an adult and I can do whatever I want and I don't have to keep waiting for him to give his blessing on every single step, so I've been more independent, more rational and I've been able to impose myself in situations I'd just be submissive in my personal and work life too you know? This time will come for you too, it's scary and weird to think of it, but you are strong enough and you are gonna get it honey you don't have to worry about everything at all... You'll be fine, my love! I love you and I hope you'll be fine ❤️😘

[thelatinacitygirl]

The One with Ringo's Sister

I'm backkk, okay so this AU is about y/n being Ringo's slightly younger sister who has a thing with George Harrison. But things don't go the way you think they will.

On another note, I began to write this Au as a cute one, but this turned a bit sour somewhere along the way. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy it, mmm maybe I can make this a two-parter. We'll see.

Enjoy:)

Word Count: 2,471

Gif belongs to @seallgaire :)

Being Ringo’s sister had its hardships, one being the rule he gave you when he joined the band. His rule was to not date any of his bandmates, he didn’t want there to be any love lost between him and his new bandmates.  

“Alright alright , I don’t even date a lot of guys. How could you say such a thing.” Y/n had told her brother Richard. “Haha, you jokester you. You’ve dated three of my bandmates! I don’t need another pointless squabble with a lead singer over my sister!”, Ringo exclaimed in a higher voice than usual. 

“Oh, alright Starky, I won’t.” I said to him using the nickname I often had called him since childhood. “Okay we have a deal then?”, he said hugging y/n. “Yeah yeah.. But if one of them comes up to me I’m not going to shoot them down”, y/n said releasing Richard from the hug, and with a grunt and sigh Ringo walked away. 

A few years later, Beatlemania was in full swing, Paul, Ringo, John, and George were traveling all over meeting new people. Visiting new countries and such. The boys even had some movie contracts under their belt. John had quickly become y/n’s closest friend in the band. Paul always watched y/n but never made any moves. And George, being the quiet- more intimate one talked to y/n and even began to teach y/n some guitar riffs during a jam session between the boys.   

“There you go y/n”, George had said over y/n’s shoulder as his arms wrapped around her shoulders to position her fingers and hands on the correct strings.  

“Hey hey hey now, y/n, sis, I thought you wanted me to teach ya”. Ringo had said from his drum set. George silently chuckled, y/n felt this as she felt his chest move from behind her.  

“Mhmm, as much as I would love to learn from you Rich, I think learning from a real guitarist would be more beneficial”. Y/n said turning to her brother who was starting to fume at his drum set. 

“Alright y/n come take a walk with me”, Ringo told his sister as he walked toward the door that had a bright EXIT above.  

“oooooo, someone is in trouble.” John said as George moved away. 

Following her brother outside he halted which in turn y/n walked into his back, “Ouch”, Y/n said rubbing her nose.  

“What the hell y/n! We made a deal! No messing around with my bandmates!”, Ringo said in a hushed tone. “Ringo- Richard, don’t you think in a situation like this there are two sides?”, Y/n said looking up at her brother, sighing he said, “Listen, sis, I just don’t want you to get hurt. There are a lot of girls that come around. I wouldn’t want to get caught up in between you and the band.” He said holding y/n shoulders lightly, looking down at her.  

“I know... I know, but can’t you just trust I won’t make any mistakes with him”, y/n said, “With who?”, Ringo asked an eyebrow raised because y/n had let her and George’s secret out like nothing.  

“Uh nobody. I actually got to go.” Y/n said looking at the watch on her wrist, walking into the recording room. “Alright boys, I got to go, see you all later.” Y/n grabbed her jacket and purse. “I’ll see you later y/n.” George said as he walked up to her and kissing her hand.  

“oooo Georgie and y/n sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G, first comes-”, John began to sing before y/n cut him off. “Alright Johny boy, I have to go now, bye”, Y/n said running out of the studio. 

Later that day, Ringo returned to the house he shared with y/n. They were hosting a party, y/n was setting up string lights in the conversation/dining room when Ringo barged through the front door almost causing y/n to lose her balance on the stool she was standing on.  

As Richard barged into the house and y/n regained her balance on the stool y/n heard his footsteps approach her. 

“So, y/n want to tell me anything?” 

Y/n ignored his question and kept pinning the lights onto the wall.  

“Mm, no, mind helping me out? The party is in two hours, and I have to start getting ready soon.” Y/n said checking the clock. 

With a grunt, Ringo reached for the other side of the lights and stood on a chair. 

“I invited Maureen tonight; I hope the boys like her. I’m actually kind of nervous.” Ringo said sighing, he usually never opened up to his little sister. But he realized it was time to not think of her as just his little sister. It was time to trust her. Or at least try to. 

“I think it will be fun to have her over, the boys and I were talking about doing acid later in the garden. You two should join us.” Y/n said finishing up with her end of the lights. 

“Mm, yeah that sounds- yeah fun. Maybe we will, yeah definitely. I’m actually- listen y/n-,” Ringo paused as he finished with his side of the lights. As he stepped down, he looked at y/n, “What if she decides she’s not into me?” he said looking at y/n with the puppy eyes she had known since childbirth. 

She laughed, of course this was his fear, he was used to the girls only going for him because he was the last available pick. 

“Don’t you worry Starky, she seems different than the rest”, Y/n told her brother while rubbing his arm to comfort him. 

“Listen, just get the rest of the lights up and get ready. Wear that blue suit of yours. Maureen is going to love it.” Y/n exclaimed as she headed up to her room. 

An hour and a half passed when the doorbell rang, y/n was almost finished and sighed as she finished her hair. When the doorbell rang again, she yelled for her brother to get the door. 

Only he didn’t respond to her, instead she was met with silence. 

“Ringo! Get the door!” 

Again, there was silence. 

“Ugh fine I'll get it,” Y/n said walking down the stairs to the front door. The doorbell rang once more. 

“I’m coming! I’m coming!” 

Opening the door, she was met by the familiar guitar player, George. With a bottle of fine wine under his arm he smiled at Y/n. His toothy grin making her break her serious grin into a smile. 

“Hello, y/n, my, you look gorgeous doll.” George said kissing y/n’s cheek. “Here I brought this, I remember how much you enjoyed it when we had dinner the other night.” George lingered close to y/n, smiling, she took the bottle out of his hand. “Thank you, Georgie.” Smiling, she closed the door behind him. 

As he walked into the conversation pit, he noticed the new string lights placed on the walls. 

“I like the new look, oh I brought the tabs malady”, George said reaching for the bag in his pocket. 

Removing a small zip lock bag filled with a sheet of tabs he presented graciously to y/n. 

Smiling she grabbed the baggie, “Shall we go put this baggie away?”, Y/n asked playfully waving the bag in the air. “We shall.” George said the following y/n to her bedroom. 

A few minutes later the two were making out like teens on her bed. 

As she laid on top of him, his hands roamed up and down her body. It should be known that up until this point, they had yet to sleep together. In fact at this moment, they were too busy, attached to each other by their tongues and bodiesthey hadn’t heard Ringo calling for y/n. Otherwise they would have broken apart in time before Ringo came barging into her room. 

“Heya, y/n, I need yer help with my fucking tie. I-”, he stopped talking as soon as he saw the two of them lying in bed. 

Quickly y/n got off George, “I’ll just- leave you two be.” Ringo said walking quickly out the door.  

He simply had no words for the two, one thing he knew for certain was that he didn’t want y/n to have a broken heart. But he also knew George was a lost puppy when it came to love. 

As Ringo walked out of the room the doorbell rang, diverting himself from walking to his bedroom he walked to the front door. 

Opening the door to Linda and Paul they smiled, “Hello darling, are we here early?... See I told you we’d be the first ones here, Lin.” Paul said looking at Linda. 

“No no, you two are right on time. George is actually the first one to get here.” Ringo said letting them in. 

“Oh, Georgie is here. Where is our beloved boy?”, Paul asked walking through the house. 

“Right here Paulie”, George said stepping out from the dining room with a cup filled with red wine. 

The two boys laughed and hugged each other, y/n walked out behind him and hugged Linda. As they all exchanged hugs and filled cups of wine Ringo pulled y/n to the side. 

While everyone conversed and listened to a new record, Ringo and y/n talked in the hallway leading towards the front door. 

“Okay listen y/n. The thing is, I just don’t want ‘ya to get yer heart broken. I promise ‘ya I'm not trying to be your evil older brother. I just know George... he’s sweet and all but-”, y/n interrupted Ringo. 

“No, I will not have this conversation with you anymore. If you don’t support this, don’t say anything anymore.” Y/n said before walking away. 

Ringo watched, annoyed at his sister, whatever this is on her he said to himself. 

A few hours later the night was in full bloom, all the guests had arrived. People were drinking and talking, music played loudly, in the house. 

As the door opened in came Maureen and Pattie. 

Linda was the first to bring it to her attention that Pattie was in her house. Y/n looked towards the entrance; Pattie was in fact there with her beautiful blonde hair done so effortlessly. Her big eyes catch every guy's attention. She was very different than y/n with jet black hair and dark brown eyes y/n was her polar opposite. 

Y/n diverted her eyes when George and Pattie hugged for a little too long. 

“Hey, honey it’s just a hug. Let’s get us some more wine, shall we?” Linda grabbed y/n’s arm pulling her to the kitchen. 

“Hey, so have you two slept together yet?”, Linda asked gulping down some wine. 

“No, we uh haven’t yet. I guess we just haven’t had the time, or when we do, we always get interrupted.” Y/n said grabbing the wine bottle and chugging it down. 

“Woah there y/n hun, save the rest for everybody.” George said gently hugging y/n from behind. “Mhmm, here Linda, George, how about we go taje some tabs shall we?”, Y/n said walking away. 

The two smiled as they watched y/n walk half-drunkenly to her bedroom. 

Minutes later y/n reappeared in the kitchen, only to see Linda and Maureen standing near a new bottle of wine. 

“Heya girls where did George go?”, y/n asked while looking around. 

Yet her eyes caught the emerald, green suit George had come with. Outside with a certain blonde Pattie. As she walked closer to the window, she noticed how close in distance Pattie and George were. 

Her arm reached out for his and he let their hands meet. As they looked into each other’s eyes they didn’t notice the girls in the kitchen watching. 

Y/n began to feel a pang of hurt in her stomach, that was reaching up to her heart. 

As more people began to form around the window, they all watched as Pattie and George inched closer and closer. Finally, their lips met, the boys, John and Paul awed while y/n just stared out of the window. 

From behind, Ringo came into the kitchen wondering why the party had been moved to the kitchen. Actually, he was looking for Maureen. 

Y/n took a few steps back, grabbing a nearby bottle of red wine she walked away. Passing Ringo watched as his sister walked away sadly handing him the bag of tabs. 

Looking through the window he watched George and Pattie kiss deeply. With a huff he handed the bag to Maureen and walked out the back door to the backyard. 

“Hey!”, Ringo yelled, as the two broke apart George looked up to see Ringo approaching him quickly.  

“You messed with the wrong sister.” Ringo said, extending his arm back then landing a nasty punch to George’s face. 

An audible gasp was heard from the inside as Paul and John came running outside. 

“Hey, boys, let’s not do this right here like this c’mon Ringo.” Paul said, pulling Ringo towards the inside of the house. 

Unbeknownst to them all y/n had watched this all happen from the window of her upstairs bedroom. She was relieved her brother had stood up for her, she would have to thank him somehow. But that would have to be done on another day. 

A few minutes later a small knock came from y/n’s door, she averted her eyes from the ceiling to her door. It was Ringo, “Hey sis.” He said lightly opening the door wider and shutting it behind him. 

“I will never look like the supermodels you all hang with.” Y/n said, tears began to form in the corner of her eyes. 

“Oh sis, he doesn’t deserve ya, he’s just a kid. He doesn’t know what he missed out on by doing that to you.” Ringo said holding his sister closely like how their mom used to when they fell or were just having a bad day. 

“How about we go into the garden and trip hmm? Everybody called it a night a few minutes ago. So, it’s just us.” Ringo said pulling away. 

“Wait what about Maureen?” 

“I told her it would be best to leave so I could be there for you. One on one, brother and sister time.” Ringo said smiling. 

Y/n laughed of course he told Maureen off; Ringo would always be y/n’s older brother. He would always care for her. Even after warning her about the dumb boy in his band. 

The rest of the evening was spent in their beloved garden their mother had planted before her death. They stared at the sky that kept breaking into a million pieces and gluing back together. 

She wondered where the guitar player was that night. She wondered if he was with the model or if he had learned his lesson and was moping at home. 

She giggled.  

He wasn’t. 

END. 

[andswarwrites]

Day 10

I've written about my mental health in bursts and starts over the years since I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder, but I’d like to start from the beginning and tell the story in its entirety, from the label "crazy" and how it affected me as a youth, to my roller coaster ride of highs and lows in my twenties, to my psychoses, my diagnosis, my therapy, and ultimately this period of stability I now cherish.  It's going to be a four-part-er I think, starting, as I said, with Part One: Stacey is Bipolar (a teenager with "mood swings")

Both of my parents are blonde and blue-eyed, so both of my siblings and I are blonde with blue eyes too.  Our family has heard a lot of blonde jokes.  Blonde is supposedly synonymous with airhead.  When someone would start telling blonde jokes, I would join in, because I wanted to show that I wasn't bothered by this brand of humor.  I learned at a young age that taking offense and getting upset is not as efficient as staying calm, and laughing at yourself along with people.

As a kid my playmate of choice was my best friend, but when we moved I only saw her from time to time, and my new neighbor was a little bit younger than me, and we didn't always get along.  Since I was homeschooled, and we lived in the country, I didn't experience playgrounds and bus rides the way my daughter did.  From hearing of her experiences, I don't feel I missed out on much.  I volunteered at my N-'s school library and I must say if I had attended primary school, I think I would have liked the library best.

I attended a little English school in Baie Comeau for Grades 7 and 8.  It had all grades, from Kindergarten to Grade 11.  At Recess, the littlest kids would traipse through the halls, and would bestow hugs on the High Schoolers.  I thought High School was rough, but honestly, that school was a kiddy pool compared to the schools I would attend in Grade 9.  I think my parents were wise to enroll me in that school.  My teachers told them I went around in a daze for the first three months.

I'd say my closest friend at that school was a girl who was one grade ahead of me.  Since certain grades didn't have enough students to fill a classroom (this was a tiny school), our classroom held two or even three grades.  My friend was thoughtful, quiet, calm, and I gravitated toward her.  She's the one who told me I had mood swings.  Apparently, this was normal teenager behavior. In Grade 9, I changed schools three times, and by the end of the year I was fed up and asked to be homeschooled again.

My mom didn't like it when people called me crazy.  I think they meant I was bubbly, hyper and impulsive.  And I could be.  I could also sit for hours with my nose stuck in a book.  When I was alone, I drew, I read, I wrote.  When I was in social groups I didn't know how to act.  I had a strange sense of never fitting in, and I didn't know why.  There must be something wrong with me, I decided, but I didn't want to let on that that was how I felt.  It was when I felt like I had no friends that I started long distance correspondence with two sisters.  We would send one another bricks of doodles, drawings and of course, eight to ten page letters.

One of the most profound things my psychiatrist told me while he was in the process of diagnosing me, was that bipolar disorder has nothing to do with personality.  Who I am as a person, who I always have been, is not tainted by my mental disorder.  All those times I identified as "crazy", as a defense mechanism because others used that label on me, it wasn't true.  At some point during my teenage years, I began to have "ups" and "downs".  I don't remember them, though, because my parents provided me with enough structure and support that I was able to remain relatively stable.

You see, bipolar disorder can make you manic or depressed.  You can either burst with energy and live on a "high", or you can crash and drag yourself around in a "low".  My highs weren't as apparent to my mom as my lows were, so she worried that I struggled with depression.  But then the low would pass, and she would be reassured.  I didn't clue in until my twenties that something was up, and even then I didn't seek professional help.  It wasn't because I didn't want to, it was because I didn't know how to go about consulting.

It's funny, I guess a mental disorder actually does classify me as "crazy", but I no longer use that label to identify myself.  When I was a teenager, I developed the habit of putting myself down as a defensive strategy, because I thought if I did it first, that would empty the arsenal of everyone else.  I was hyper focused on my flaws and failings, so I thought everyone else was too.  It took me a while to learn that no one is perfect, we all mess up, we all need to be forgiven, we all need to forgive.

If I can love others even when they're not perfect, why would I be the exception to that rule?  Why would I need to be perfect to be lovable?  Chasing perfection is unhealthy.  As a teen, I think my mental health was crushed under the weight of seeking to be perfect far more than it was affected by my bipolar disorder.  But my symptoms of bipolar disorder were going to worsen, until crisis point.  Like I said, my parents provided me with a lot of structure and support.  They kept me consistent, they helped me meet my goals.  But what would I do when I left home?  I'll tell that story tomorrow.

[princesssmimii]

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ I remember that day when my dearest friend told me she was going to move out of the country because her dad found his dream job in an another country. Pain and disappointment crept into my mind as I processed her words, and the fact that she was going to be away from me for God knows how long. She is the friend that opened my eyes, the friend I trust unconditionally, the friend that I would never hurt in my entire life, the friend that is in my heart and I’m genuinely saying and feeling all of this because before meeting her, I’ve never believed that one day, I would have a friend who genuinely cares, loves, cherishes me and I promise that it filled my heart with warmth and affection. She loves me, she understands me, she shares my interests and I share hers, and numerous are the things that I would do to keep things that way, even though she is now kilometers away from me. I was the first one she invited over to her house and I was the first one to invite her to mine, I was the first one she hung out with if it wasn’t in school, I was the first one she has ever had a sleepover with and speaking of sleepover, I remember the one we had the night before separating ourselves from each other.

I remember she gave me a gift. It was a painting with beautiful handmade calligraphy on it, which is currently, at the moment I’m writing this, in front of me, hung on my wall. I thanked her and praised her about how beautiful it was, but I didn’t except her to look at me and break into tears. I was surprised when she took me into her arms and cried about how much she was going to miss me, how she wished she didn’t have to leave me, how she wished she could take me with her, how she has never had a friend like me before, how she loved me. I was startled by all of this, so I chuckled and hugged her back, telling her that it was okay and that it wasn’t a complete goodbye, that it God wills, we would see each other again. I don’t know why, but while she was breaking down in my arms, I couldn’t cry. I wished I could cry with her so she would see how sad I was, but tears couldn’t fall. And I hate myself for not being able to cry that day because I was genuinely hurt and my heart ached so much I thought I was going to throw it up. The next morning, I ate breakfast with her sisters, her mother, and her. We expressed how much we were going to miss each other, and for my part, I love my best friend’s mother and sisters as they became a very important persons in my life. After an hour or two, my mom came over to bring me back home, but she ended up staying longer to chat with my friend’s mother and praise her sisters. When it was time to say goodbye, my friend’s family and my own mom cried, and even my best friend cried, and once again, I wasn’t able to cry. I’m usually the most sensitive person but I didn’t know why tears wouldn’t fall. We all hugged each other, and my mother and I went back to her car to go back home. And it was in my bathroom, alone, that I broke into tears, because I never react at the good timing. I knew I was slow but I didn’t know I was that slow. It was as if reality hit me and I didn’t realize that a huge part of my heart was going to be ripped off until now.

I still speak to my friend, otherwise, I would have probably gone crazy. She says I’m on her wallpaper, she says she talks about me to her new friends at school, she says she thinks about me. And I’ve never felt so important in someone’s life than in hers. Because our friendship is true female friendship, we don’t envy each other, we don’t lie to each other, we support each other through thick and thin and tell the other if something is wrong because we genuinely want the best for each other. She is the feather of my mind. I love you, Lamar.

[nityarawal]

Sent to new fake boss on chauffer bad check scam at PNC bank & BBVA artificial Intelligence Centers.

To my family after the 6 year apartheid war. 

Do you care? Lol

Probably not. 

But this is reason to work. 

Do you have kids?

Peace,

Nitya

#4BillionMothersStrong 

Going to bed for first night in my art shack! Laundry clean! 

Wish you were here! I love you! Xo

Nitya

PS Mom- There's another 1 bedroom available for $500. 

Would you be able to send Anj & Isha? He can have the bigger one or kids together? 

This can be moved next to it! 

Or we can make one bedrooms & one living quarters? 

Miss you! Xo 

Nitya

Hey y'all have you googled mom's name lately?

Mitra with Sun!

Wow- There's thousands of wonderful new stories since last we checked. Haydn didn't believe it meant Sun.

Isn't that bizarre someone who knows Farsi, studies planets, went to Iran etc would say something so dumb? He doesn't appreciate nor understand Persian poets either. Mind Boggling.

Bobba knows he's Varuna! Lol

Every Christmas the lovers celebrate their anniversary.

It's divine.

I miss you so much. Mitra got me.

Thankyou Mommy.

You know she's even compared to Christ? Some mythical jealousy with Mitraism.

A mystical knowing that rivaled Christianity.

We are so very lucky mom. I pray you're all feeling ok.

I enjoyed first night in my dressing trailer!(: 

It's getting very cute and I'm enjoying paint box possibilities.

I left a patched wall rustic with board and want to paint an American flag on it.(:

Swedes do these barn house style paintings that are really epic.

Helen's sis had one in the only black Swedish house in the village.

Do you remember?

Do you hear from any of my bffs & sisters.

Worried for Zivit.

Any news I'd be grateful for.

I lost touch with many loved ones in lame Facebook wars.

Elon has a divine new Joe Rogan pod f/ yesterday you must hear!

He's doing AI conference & praying he heard the prudes and our beloved family.

It was King Reza Shah's II birthday yesterday.

Great party.

Persians brought it celebrating their beloved King.

It felt like the globe danced and rejoiced for our lineage.

He's only leader never criticized.

Amazing.

Georgia says no American leader ever spoke to her so Elon finally gave their country Starlink.

That was nice.

We see it but only the privileged use it apparently in apartheid! LOL

Praying He's doing a savoy shuffle in UK and sorting it all out.

He seemed very strong. Did you know he does Jiu Jitsu?

Could Gracie studio help Isha get his rights back?

I was sad to see another 14yo boy- little Quazi- caged by Space x and estranged from mom in daddy detention; am worried Isha was sold out?

I don't appreciate the way Sunil Carved me out of my family. We are not for sale nor barter.

Justice is undoubtedly going to be served.

It gets worse with every passing moment.

Elon says the price just goes up.

Make today a peace day like everyday.

I love you so much. Can you send me pictures here?

Isn't there anyway for y'all to shake a dead woman's Gag orders and embrace freedom of speech? RIP Queen Elizabeth & Barracuda Mamma Lori Clark Viviano AKA Sharkbait. 

Amen. 

Look at Elon squirm with BBC pod next. 

They have terrorized us over lame religious shit we didn't even know of from Roman times.

It's a history of wars.

Is Sunil an existentialist?

I never fully understood his superstring theory.

Do you Isha?

Please look and let me know.

I think he probably is.

Do you remember when he'd set up little villages of cards in living room; and video while Romeo knocked them down to find the treats?

There's lots of ways you can groom in war.

It's just not the Huntley way.

I don't believe it was Gautama's way of the Rawal Gotra either. Buddha loves his mom so much and is overflowing with Empathy and compassion.

We've all cried and Sung you home.

Megxit home.

Reza home.

Do you want to visit today and trick or treat?

I want to play Halloween; hug/eat and celebrate with my beloved family. 

Norooz.

It's sad Britney and her family broke. Praying they forgive each other- for her heart and everyone's involved.

Between us all, we've probably been targeted by over a million Jewish attys capitalizing on our family. 

We must always trust our enlightened elders.

That's why what Sunil did was a mind "F." ):

I'm sorry.

I know it wasn't good for anyone's Psyche.

Come home.

Shall we tie up the other trailer?

It's just for now.

Hopefully Elon really will get Reparations.

I'm grateful for all the time I have to enjoy the globe, you, and choose to enjoy it.

Maybe it's rude to laugh in face of tragedy; rude to defy cancer; disobedient to angry British leaders in rages over silencing for their organized criminals kink…..

I really feel Elon could rise through this. Please hold him in light of your heart. I just want the microcosm to reflect what my family can create. 

Jyoti Nitya

Light Eternal

Mitra Nitya

Friend Eternal 

Anjali Nitya

Grace; Offering To God Eternal

And grateful for our mighty Varuna Eternal. 

Ja Nitya 

We are a Tribe of peace, light and love. 

Prosperity is Gravy. 

I feel I paid more for Twitter's freedom of speech on X than anything in my life as a citizen journalist. I had to. For the word. It's very important to us. Vows. Faith. Simple human structure honoring heart values. Lovers. Boppa doesn't believe in divorce. Nor do I. It's Barbaric for one's soul. I'm sorry. Forgive me. Please. 

$44b wasn't what it really cost & I think Elon gets that.

We all worked.

Got taxed in alienation warfare. 

Every home I had was raided by Nazi Sheriff on bribes.

It was creepy.

I never broke the law. 

My job is to be a mom, a full disclosure journalist and realtor. The word means more to me than the buck. That's rare. 

I might not look like Miss Ambition but it's because priority of my life is you. To some being a mom might not bring the Britney billions they want to tax our family with. 

As far as I'm concerned my billions are voting in an arena of violence we don't appreciate. 

Return all. Elon knows this is on to-do list. 

We won't have blood money on our hands. 

We worked to hard as yogis to allow Sunil Rawal to violate our sacred family. 

My stomach is actually quaking at what nasty things hrs done. Let it go. It's just not worth it. We choose love. With you. Every day.

Every minute. 

Mitra Nitya is the eternal friend. 

We all know that's true. 

We all will be paid.

I got my X tip button. (:

This won't ever happen to another family on my time or dime. 

4 billion mothers are strong.

Peace. 

Merci,

Hugs. Xo

With all Love,

Mom

Nitya Eternal 

#4BillionMothersStrong 

(Mitra Moezzi's daughter of the Persian Qajar dynasty.)

Mom- Whom I miss with all my heart. Shouldn't we all have access to the psyche geniuses of our era? Especially loved ones. I know so many people have suffered.

(Peace is so much easier. Royals are fun and I feel lucky to be half princess getting a little crumb of respect in Woman Life Freedom Baraye Global awakening about apartheid in Tehrangeles regions too.)

"In the end, all debts must be paid, just a question of when. Later makes it worse."

| Elon Musk