#i would have been able to do more but i have therapy in 5 minutes and didnt get out of bed til 10

[dandeyrain]

i deep cleaned my kitchen and my bedroom today and it collectively took 5 hours but it was awesome and im so glad i did

[earlycuntsets]

"Chemical Reaction forms Chemical Romance"

What a year it has been for My Chemical Romance. Only just forming this year and now they are on the verge on releasing their debut album later this month. It seems nothing can go wrong for these guys at the minute so I though I would be apart of the good fortune and ask Gerard a couple of questions and what the key too their success was, this is what he had to say.

Anemic: Hey Gerard, thanks for taking you time to do this interview?

Gerard: You're welcome. Thank you for giving us one. Sorry it took a bit to respond.

Anemic: No problem at all mate, so how are you doing today?

Gerard: We're doing very well thank you. Mostly healthy and almost all of our teeth!

Anemic: Well I must say it's been a rapid rise for you guys to say the least, you only formed at the start of the year and now you have an album coming out next month on Eyeball Records, how are you taking in all in?

Gerard: It's been more than would could have imagined when we started the band. From our first show we've been getting such a nice positive response. Getting signed by Eyeball Records really clinched it and since then we've been on a roll. We're all smiles.

Anemic: So how has it been getting your material out their, I mean you guys must be doing a great live show for people to stand up and take notice of how well you guys are really doing?

Gerard: After recording we were a little rusty as far as performing the material live but after the last weekend of shows we're back to 100%. We try to put on the most honest, energetic, and intense show we possibly can and it has paid off for us so far. It's really like therapy for us to be up there, we would do the same show for 5 or 500 people, the same energy would be there. Getting radio play and having a pressence on the web has helped get the material out there but our biggest push has been word of mouth.

Anemic: With live shows there must be a lot of fans, how would describe you fans?

Gerard: Well it depends. Alot of people that come out to see us have just heard about us so they don't know what to expect. Generally after we start playing alot of people just take a step back, this just happened in Deleware last weekend. I think they may think we're going to hit them but I always try and promise them we won't, we would never do that. We just go crazy up there. The fans that know us are all great, they are always friendly and our first biggest fan, Carlos, is the head of our street team now. The best way to describe our fans would be "diverse". We get all kinds.

Anemic: Who has been the best band you have played along side so far?

Gerard: Pencey Prep, without a doubt.

Anemic: How was it recording the new album, was their a good vibe in the studio were you could go about things the way you wanted them too without having any hassles in the process?

Gerard: The vibe in the studio was excellent. Very positive all the way through. Geoff, Alex, and John were great to work with and brought alot to the table creatively. It was hard to finish because there was a situation where Gerard ended up in the emergency room 5 times and it slowed down recording but we were still able to come under the deadline and make exactly the album we wanted.

Anemic: What should we expect from the new album?

Gerard: Well it's our first album so I would expect to see a band that evolves from the first songs that were written to the last. Expect a very different sound from what is out there right now. Very honest, sincere, aggresive. We make music that we would want to hear and thats why we play it so hard.

Anemic: Once the new record is out and selling to you guys plan to seel it on a global scale i.e maybe in Australia?

Gerard: Eyeball Records just got hooked up with worldwide distrobution, so the album will be available in Australia upon release I believe. We're very excited about that!

Anemic: Who are your musical influences, I guess you would have heaps and heaps but who are the ones that stand out the most for you?

Gerard: Classical guitarists, The Smiths, The Misfits, Queen, At The Gates, Iron Maiden.

Anemic: Before starting the band what did you guys do to occupy you time?

Gerard: Ray is a film maker. Matt is a mechanic. Mikey was in college. Frank was in college as well. Gerard is an artist. Other than that we used to play video games, watch zombie movies, drink beer, hang out, stuff like that.

Anemic: Some rumours I have heard is that you guys like Bats, what's the fascination with them, is it the Will Haven song BATS, or you just like the species?

Gerard: Haha...the whole bat thing came about at an early practice when Mikey joined and we finally gelled. Our energy just came together and a giant heavy metal vortex opened up and out flew a swarm of bats. We all saw it. It was like an awakening. After that we accepted bats into our lives. It was also while we were playing "Vampires Will Never Hurt You" so it probably had alot to do with that.

interview by simon from anemic magazine may 2003

[airbender-dacyon]

Benlynn Parallels & Analysis

Alright, so this is by no means an exhaustive list, just what I am able to recall right now, but here's some of the Ben & Brooklynn parallels I noticed from Season 1 of Chaos Theory, as well as a few under the cut that are speculation based on trailers and promos from Season 2 (so spoiler warning for those). And I ended up doing more analysis on this than I intended, whoops.

Apologies for the long post, but I wanted to keep any spoilers under the cut and this ended up being much longer than I planned. I also apologize because it's been a minute since I've been able to watch Camp Cretaceous in its entirety and a bit since I last watched S1 of Chaos Theory so I hope my memory is right on most of this.

Also, this is meant to just be a fun post. It is a ship post, but I also acknowledge that the parallels likely don't mean anything beyond they're friends with shared interests/similar traits (if they even mean that).

Dark Jurassic Nerds

"What about that website I showed you?" "OMG. Dark Jurassic? Yes. Amazing." "Isn't it?"

Ben, in a surprising twist to me, was the one to discover Dark Jurassic. When Camp Cretaceous ended, I wouldn't have guessed he would be the one to become invested in a social media site. I will say that it makes sense that Brooklynn, having grown up as a social media influencer, was staying away from social media more after the Nublar Six returned home and that she didn't come across Dark Jurassic sooner. Regardless, the pair are both heavily invested in the website, though Brooklynn seems to have vetted the theories more than Ben, given her interaction with Yaz:

So it seems like Ben had a habit of sending a lot of stuff he found interesting her way, but only a few things, like the Dino Immersion Therapy, Brooklynn found to be legit.

2. "Okay, at first, I was like, ugh. But this view!"

I still think it is surprising that between Ben's flashback and Kenji's flashback, Brooklynn expresses more excitement over the view of a pretty ordinary skyline from the rooftop of a college dormitory that Ben shows her during her surprise visit than she does the bioluminescent Parasaurolophus at sunset amidst cliffs and a waterfall that her boyfriend of 5+ years had planned as a big romantic gesture.

We don't know the exact date when Brooklynn visited Ben at college, so I fully admit that probably plays a big part in the difference in Brooklynn's reaction. Since this is shortly after Ben introduced Brooklynn to Dark Jurassic and we know that 1) Brooklynn visited Yaz 14 months before the start of Season 1 and 2) Kenji broke up with Brooklynn shortly before (at least a few weeks, I believe) her apparent death roughly 6 months before S1, the Benlynn flashback takes place at least 14 months before S1, probably even earlier than that. Heck, it might be 18-24 months before S1. So, obviously Brooklynn is in a much healthier headspace in Ben's flashback whereas she had become obsessed with uncovering the dinosaur trafficking conspiracy by the time of Kenji's flashback, resulting in her indirectly neglecting her relationship with him.

3. Funny Stories, Personal Questions, & Other Shared Interests?

"Uh, yeah. College is great, but sometimes I gotta get outside just to feel like I can breathe." "Weird how it can be so hard to feel normal, now that everything is so... normal." "See those Pteranodons up there?" "Uh-huh." "One of them grabbed a freshman's backpack and took off with it." "No way." "She had to tell her professor that a dinosaur ate her homework." [Brooklynn laughs] "What?" "That's really funny." "Well, not to her. She failed her assignment." [Brooklynn laughs harder] "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. No, I'm sorry, that's really sad." [Snorts] "That's sad." "The point is, I don't know if there's such a thing as normal anymore." "Yeah."

It hadn't been my intention to quote such a large chunk of the flashback, but I do find it interesting how this interaction between these two played out. Ben & Brooklynn had only a handful of scenes - more accurately, a handful of interactions - together in Camp Cretaceous. And so to see these two alone together and enjoying each other's company was refreshing to see. Again, this isn't a 'they shared a moment together, now they're going to end up together' post. The fact that there was a significant flashback that highlighted how Ben & Brooklynn get along, despite not being one of the other's closest friends within the Nublar Six, was a stellar choice. They could have easily done for Ben what they did with Sammy: a very brief, but still impactful memory/vision of Brooklynn.

But in this scene, it's neat that Ben is telling the story to reassure Brooklynn that 1) even though they've been home safe from Nublar for years now, their experiences will never go away and 2) prehistoric wildlife is out in the world, "normal" doesn't really exist and they shouldn't expect it to. Like on Nublar, they have to adapt to the new dynamic. But, intentionally or not, Ben is also telling the story in a very humorous way, which results in Brooklynn's laughter. And whether you see the moment as shippy or just friends, it was pretty adorable to see Ben making Brooklynn laugh.

The scene on the rooftop also begins in a rather interesting way, as Ben's dialogue starts by announcing the rooftop view is his favorite spot on campus, followed by why he goes there/gets outside. So, presumably, Brooklynn had asked him how college was going. And after the Pteranodon story, Ben does something unique to the flashbacks we've seen in Season 1.

He asks Brooklynn how she's been doing.

"Anyway, how's everything with you? Any cool stories you're working on? Wrongs to be righted? Buried truths to be uncovered?" [Laughs] "Trying. It is hard out there for a reformed "social media influencer turned aspiring investigative journalist."

Now again, I fully recognize this is the easiest catalyst in the flashback to introduce Brooklynn's interest/activity in Dark Jurassic. And I also fully recognize that we haven't seen Darius' flashback with Brooklynn yet and Sammy's vision/memory of Brooklynn is too short to really compare to the other three we've seen so far.

However, in Yaz's flashback, we see Brooklynn is the one helping her with the Dino Immersion Therapy and inquiring about how she's doing, why she's there instead of Sammy, etc. And in Kenji's flashback, we see that he's so excited to share the view he's discovered with Brooklynn. And when she is too distracted (presumably by her mission) to acknowledge the beauty of the moment, Kenji breaks up with her and his dialogue suggests this has been happening for a while.

The video recordings of the earlier Kenlynn date and when the Nublar Six returned home at least give us a glimpse into happier times. But with regards to the flashbacks, while Brooklynn is likely there to check up on her friend (unannounced and strangely late in the evening from the looks of it), Ben's flashback is the only one where the focus seems to be on both characters equally rather than Brooklynn acting in a supporting/secondary role in the scene.

A much smaller parallel, likely unintentional, is that Ben and Brooklynn seem to (almost) have matching outfits in the flashback.

Continuing from that, and acknowledging similar outfits is already a stretch, I guess there is a parallel with music? Kinda?

We see in Brooklynn's video call to Darius that she is wearing what looks like a band/album T-shirt and Ben has become quite the fan of rock music. Some of the concept art for Ben's dorm room also showcased several band posters, if I recall correctly.

So, while not a certainty, it seems they could have also developed a connection through similar music tastes, though this is a fair bit of speculation.

4. Boots

Another parallel that's a stretch, but Ben eating food out of a boot seemed really, really odd when it was introduced. Perhaps out of desperation, maybe he accidentally broke his last bowl or ran out of disposable ones? Who knows. An odd choice, especially with the later Ruby Ropes container conversation being weird enough on its own that the food boot seemed excessive.

But then it was shown that Brooklynn also had an unfortunate boot-related habit, though fortunately nowhere near as disgusting. Kenji trips over one of her boots and comments on it, with Darius also having suffered from the problem:

"She was always leaving these in the middle of the floor. It was so annoying. I was so afraid I was gonna-" "Break your neck?" "Did she do that when she was staying with you after we broke up?" [Chuckles] "I swear she did it just to annoy us."

Again, this one's a big stretch, but it felt like a possibility.

5. A specific set of skills

Or, rather, just one skill. I can't remember if any other members of the Nublar Six ever picked any locks throughout the shows, but Ben having a set of dedicated lock picks was an interesting development. All of the N6 have picked up new skills in the time between CC and CT, but Ben's activities - and this skill in particular - seem to mirror a lot of Brooklynn's.

6. Conspiracy Boards

Again, going back to the fact that Brooklynn was more interested in legitimate stories and credible theories, Ben's board is quite a mess while Brooklynn's is more refined. Ben's looking into all the possibilities, no matter how ridiculous they might be, whereas Brooklynn is focused on (presumably) unraveling the dinosaur trafficking conspiracy and anything else nefarious that might be going on in relation to it.

7. Season 1 Bookends (unused)

I don't want to repost the art without permission and I really want to get the post up today, so credit to Brandon Roberts in this concept art post here. It shows Ben on his laptop in his dorm room.

However, I will provide the description Brandon Roberts gave, as well as the confirmation by Scott Kreamer on the post:

This would have been an interesting parallel and way to bookend the season: opening with Ben on Dark Jurassic getting vague messages and closing out with Ronnie sending vague messages to someone on Dark Jurassic and the reveal that it's Brooklynn.

And only time will tell if there is something real between these two. Or it might all be just an illusion.

"There's definitely some pretty out-there stuff on there, but every so often there's something that seems, I don't know..." "Real?" "Real."

And aside from the spoilery speculation below, I think this might be it. There could be other parallels I'd thought of previously, but as of right now, this is all I can remember. If you made it this far, thanks for reading my inane ramblings. I hope you enjoyed!

Also, shoutouts to @p0m0u and @kitabearuwu for being the inspiration for me falling down the Benlynn rabbit hole and continued inspiration since (we'll see if I can get my Benlynn fic done by tomorrow), especially their posts here, here, here, and here. And special thanks to @p0m0u for letting me use the beautiful gifs she made in this post!

Spoilers for Season 2 Trailers & Promo material under the cut!

Starting from what I feel is the weakest parallel to the strongest:

8. Why are you holding that in your mouth?

When I saw the tweezers or tool or whatever fall from Brooklynn's mouth, I swear I'd seen Ben do something like it before in the show. I tried to scour Season 1 of CT to find it, but to no avail. I then remembered where I'd seen something similar, back in Season 4 of CC. Again, leading with the weakest parallel here, but like the boots, I find it interesting and odd that both of them have held things in their mouths - and these are things that probably shouldn't be held in their mouths - only to drop them at some point during the scene. Ben's out of relief that the BRAD is gone, Brooklynn's potentially by whoever is breaking into her location (if the clips immediately before and after are part of the same scene).

9. You're great and I like you, but...

Given that it looks like we'll have a Darius and Brooklynn flashback finally, I have to wonder, will it play out in a similar vein to the Ben & Yaz moment in S4 of CC? We know that Ben mistook Yaz's interest in getting him away from Kenji & Brooklynn so that Kenlynn could develop as romantic interest. What if we see Brooklynn realize Darius' growing affection for her and makes it clear in a similar way?

I'm not saying we'll get a "Darius, look, you're a great guy and I like you. But I just don't like like you." But possibly something similar.

10. What? You've never seen a ghost before?

We'll see if this turns out to be another 'back from the dead' moment or not, but it has that kind of vibe to me. And I have to credit @p0m0u for pointing it out to me originally. Fingers crossed, it seems like a perfect setup for Ben's line to make a comeback!

And I think that's everything for now!

[cassandrasimplex]

Listen, when I say, as an abuse survivor, that Astarion's storyline is written with care, delicacy, and profound understanding: Since I completed it a few days ago, which I found incredibly cathartic and fulfilling due to points of commonality with the nature and causes of my CPTSD, I've been sleeping 7-8 hours a night straight through (instead of 3-5 at a time), my resting heart rate has dropped almost 10 beats per minute, I've had zero nightmares (based not just on what I remember but also on how much I move and talk in my sleep), and my fitness tracker wants to know what I've been doing different lately and whether I can keep it up.

I don't expect this change to be permanent or even long-lasting, but not even months of therapy at a time have ever had a positive effect so strong my tracker picked up on it. Not even when I was in crisis mode and only able to sleep 2 or 3 hours a day was therapy able to improve my sleep and my well-being so immediately. Astarion's storyline from finding Cazador's prisoners to the final confrontation, which took me a bit over an hour, did. If you want to count all the narrative build-up to that climax that gave it meaning, call it six weeks' investment for such a dramatic improvement.

The idea that trauma-aware roleplay can help people with PTSD and especially CPTSD find short-term peace and even a long-term improvement in overall functioning and mental health isn't new to me. I stumbled across it on my own, unguided, 30+ years ago. It's a bit newer to most therapists, but it's an approach used in experiential therapy and some related strategies and had been studied for much longer before its incorporation in such toolkits. But BG3 isn't being sold as therapy; it's being sold as a fun video game to play in one's free time.

The thing about CPTSD and recovery from abuse in general is that you have to practice new ways of reacting to the world. Therapies like cognitive behavior therapy focus on helping the patient replace old, maladaptive patterns of thinking that helped them survive a traumatic situation but hinder functioning in safer environments with intentionally-created ones that would have been too dangerous to practice in the traumatic environment but are healthier and more supportive outside it. These patterns have to be practiced, though; it's not enough to just correct yourself once with a more affirming statement and wait for results. You have to do it over and over until it becomes your new default. And results matter. If practicing the new behavior or thought results in the kind of negative outcome it would have prompted in the original abusive situation, the effect is that the old, maladaptive pattern is reinforced instead: "See? I knew acting that way would be too dangerous. I knew thinking that way would just be lying to myself. I already know what's best. The way I've always behaved in order to survive is what serves to keep me safe."

Which is why Astarion's storyline is both so effective and so astonishingly well done. Over and over, you get the chance to reassure him that your friendship is not merely a set of opportunistic transactions, that you don't want to control him, that you see him as a person rather than a puppet or a tool, that he can refuse to manage your feelings for you or even outright hurt your feelings without being "punished" for it. You can comment out loud to him when you catch him being manipulative and tell him that's not how your friendship works while still accepting and supporting him as a person, as a friend. You can make your friendship with him an environment completely opposite in nature to his relationship with his abuser. You can teach him -- and, if you need it, yourself -- what a safe environment looks like. And you can teach him that his abuser's behavior was successful in an environment created specifically to reserve all power for the abuser, but doesn't serve as well outside that situation, to encourage him to find healthier ways of dealing with the world than the ones that were modelled for him within that trauma. (Am I projecting? Of course I'm projecting; that's precisely what makes roleplay such an effective tool. It's a natural human tendency that can be used to advantage.)

And somewhere in your psyche, if you're a person who needs to hear all that as much as Astarion does, your mind is taking note: "How I thought the whole world works was wrong. Only that one little part of the world worked that way. The world is much bigger than the limited environment that hurt me. There are better ways to live and be." The parts of the brain where trauma plants its deepest roots can't tell the difference between play and reality, between past and present. They can't tell the difference between "I can make a safer environment for this person in front of me" and "I can go back in time and make a safer environment for the person I used to be." (That's why so many abuse survivors feel compelled to help other abuse survivors -- empathy, yes, and identification, but on a deeper level than that; we try to become the person who never showed up to help us.)

And if "this person in front of me" happens to be a fictional character, well, it can't really tell the difference between fiction and reality either -- especially when the fiction has a visible face and an audible voice and convincing expression in both.

I'm not in the slightest saying, "Go out and buy BG3 to fix yourself!" because using roleplay as therapy is far too highly personal and variable to expect consistent results from a script. There might be people whose trauma is reinforced by the same things that spoke so soothingly to mine. Larian is a video game company, not a therapist. But I can't get over the way a video game company for fuck's sake has created such a sensitive, tender, supportive story that it can even accidentally function this way. They didn't have to go so hard. They didn't have to lean so far into empathy. They didn't have to bring so much realism into it. They could have just told an interesting story. They did tell an interesting story -- but someone here decided they needed to tell it so well, so powerfully, that they were going to need to know exactly what living through events like those would do to a person, and how a friend would have to act to support that person in working toward happiness and health.

Well fucking done, Larian. Extremely well fucking done.

And although I can't reasonably expect the current effects to last, I can carry something lasting from here on; I can add "What would I say to Astarion right now?" to the list of questions I ask myself when triggered, when I realize I'm experiencing an implicit flashback. What would I say to Astarion? What would I say to a friend? What would I say to someone I care about who's been through the same things I have? What would I say to myself if I thought I deserved to be happy and free?

[wardenparker]

Hummingbird Has Landed, ch 6

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

After the debacle of his failed engagement and relocating to Washington to take charge of his task force, newly minted Special Agent Marcus Pike is ready to get back out into the dating pool once more. A slew of bad dates has him feeling a little down, and he takes an old friend up on an invitation to get away and get his head on straight. Imagine his surprise when he finds not only fresh air, but his soulmate as well - hiding in plain sight but in the unlikeliest of places.

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 16.9k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: occasional mention of American politics, pregnant character, food/alcohol consumption, mentions of clothing/regulated dressing for occasions, mentions of therapy because we believe in self care here, reader is in a previous relationship, love triangle, reader is mentioned as turning 30 during the course of the story* It's break up time, kiddos! Patrick Jane can fuck right the hell off. Jammed up wedding plans, mention of a fire. Two nerds flirting naked. Summary: In the aftermath of the State dinner, there are decisions and plans to make. But nothing else is quite as big as the favor Marcus needs to ask of you. Notes: Sometimes grand gestures are the friends we made along the way...or something like that. 🧡

Ch1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5

The buzzer rings past midnight, cutting through the quiet music playing in the bedroom with an angry hiss. It makes the clink of a wine glass on a coaster and the slap of a paperback novel on wood seem very definitive, along with the footsteps that pad out into the living room to hit the buzzer. "Yes?" It's the polite way of asking who the hell is at the door this time of night.

“Hey.” Marcus leans against the intercom, bow tie undone and his jacket discarded. He had been dropped off at his house and immediately grabbed his keys to leave once more. Needing to talk to her. “I know it’s late, I’m sorry.” He apologizes. “Can I come up?”

"Marcus!" Vanessa's surprise is obvious, but she still hits the button on the speaker panel to let him up without hesitation. "Sure, of course. Come on up."

The door clicks and Marcus opens it, pausing for just a second before he enters the building and makes sure that it closes behind him. Knowing that he is doing the right thing. That it is what’s best.

As usual, it takes four minutes for someone in the lobby to get upstairs to her apartment. Vanessa is in the small kitchen beside the living room when the knock comes on the door, and she steps over to the door to pull it open. "Look at you all dressed up," she hums, seeing that he's still wearing his tuxedo. He looks exhausted, but handsome. "Come on in. How was the dinner?"

“It was good.” He doesn’t want to tell her that it was life changing, but it was. Even as hurt as he was when finding out that you were aware of the connection between you, he had realized one key thing. He is not a man who would be able to continue a relationship with Vanessa in good conscience. It wasn’t fair, but it also wasn’t fair to be stringing her along when he was pining for you.

"Just good?" That seems a little too simple, especially for someone as usually verbose as Marcus, but she doesn't push. Her own night was...complicated, and it's good that he came over. "Do you want a drink or anything?" Vanessa offers, motioning toward the kitchen. He's only been here once, but he knows she keeps the apartment well stocked. "Wine? Coffee?"

“Coffee, if you don’t mind.” Marcus shrugs slightly and follows her into the small kitchen. “It was long.” He admits. “The names and faces have kind of blurred together, if I’m honest.”

"State dinners are hundreds of people. I would be surprised if they didn't." Coffee for two seems like a good idea, and she pulls two Nespresso pods out of the cannister by her machine and takes two mugs off the rack under the cupboards.

“The food was good, open bar – though no one got sloppy, and more security than I’ve ever seen in my life.” Marcus chuckles, moving to the small dinette table and pulling out a chair.

"Do any of the faces still stand out at all?" She has something she wants to talk to him about but she's going to hold off until the coffee is ready and they can sit down and talk like reasonable people.

“Spanish royalty?” Marcus snorts. “An award-winning chef.”

"Did you actually get to meet the royals?" Never having been to a State dinner herself, she hadn't been sure if that would happen. So when she brings two cups of coffee and the container of creamer from her fridge over to the table, she's actually interested.

“Actually.” Marcus huffs out a disbelieving laugh. “I was in the receiving line with the family and the President, like I was supposed to be there and not just some friendly favor.” There’s not a tone to his voice beyond amusement, he’s working hard to make sure of that. Because in a sense, he did belong there. Feeling guilty because of him technically dating Vanessa right now. Which is why he’s come over.

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.” Vanessa takes a sip of her coffee, steadying herself from everything that has happened tonight. She had planned on calling Marcus in the morning, but…well, he’s here now. “And actually, I’m glad you’re here,” she says, trying not to sound foreboding.

“Me too.” Marcus busies himself with making his coffee, trying to gather the right words now that he’s in front of her. It had been so clear in his mind when he was at home, on the drive over. Even when he was knocking on her door, but now he feels like an asshole for wanting to break up just because he knows who his soulmate is.

Not one to draw out the process, or to make it overly flowery, or even to embellish it unnecessarily, Vanessa sits with her legs crossed at the small table in her kitchen and straightens her back and shoulders for the clarity of mind it gives her. “I think we should see other people,” she pronounces clearly, letting there be no mistake or hesitancy in her tone.

Marcus pauses, his eyes shooting up from the spoon as it swirls around the cup and he drops it. “I…see.”

“Not because of anything that went wrong,” she clarifies right away. Just because she’s dumping him doesn’t mean she wants to hurt him — Marcus is a sweet guy. He’s just not her guy. “I’m sorry. I didn’t plan on doing this tonight.”

“No, um, that’s okay.” He’s also quick to reassure her. “I think that we both knew that it wasn’t permanent.”

"I think it could have been," Vanessa admits. She clutches her coffee cup in both hands, holding onto the warmth for reassurance of her own. "But I...found my soulmate."

“That’s…” Almost amazingly coincidental but he doesn’t say that. “Amazing.” He hums, almost reaching out to take her hand, but he doesn’t. Feeling a little relieved but also picked last again if he’s honest. Never quite good enough, not even for you. “That’s amazing. I’m happy for you. Do you want to tell me about it?” He knows that sometimes soulmates like to keep their discovery a secret and he wouldn’t pry if she didn’t want to talk about it.

“It was kind of an accident,” she admits, complexion reddening with a pleased blush. “And I haven’t even said anything to him yet. But now that I know who it is, I can’t imagine spending my life with anyone else.”

“I get it.” Marcus smiles and reaches out this time, touching the back of her hand in a friendly gesture. “I hope that you have that dream life you want.” Just because he wasn’t her soulmate, doesn’t mean that they hadn’t discussed dreams, hopes for the future. “I wish you the best, truly.”

"I hope you find the best girl in the whole world who will give you everything." Squeezing his fingers back gently, Vanessa offers him the most heartfelt wishes she possibly can. Marcus deserves the world. He's a good guy and a good partner and she probably wouldn't be doing this at all if she hadn't found her future tonight. "You deserve to be happy, and I hope you find that soon."

“Thanks.” He smiles, knowing that it’s what he’s supposed to do right now and glances at the clock in her kitchen. “I better go.” He decides, not even having taken one sip of his coffee. “It’s late and…” he trails off, the silent continuation of his comment fading between them. He’s not her soulmate and now he’s not even dating her, so he has no reason to be at her apartment so late.

"I'm glad you came by." Breaking up with him over the phone had felt a little cowardly, and she's glad to be able to have seen him face to face one more time. If nothing else, it feels more respectful.

“Yeah.” Marcus stands and picks up his coffee cup to move over to the sink. It wasn’t quite how he pictured this conversation going, but he isn’t going to protest when she is clearly on the same page he is.

There is something of a stalemate at the door, and if Vanessa were more of the hugging kind of friend, she might have offered one. She might also have expressed that they could stay friends, but that seems futile. It is entirely likely she’ll never see Marcus Pike again despite them living in the same city. But she does wish him well one more time and say a polite good night. After all, she knows she did the right thing.

“Goodnight.” Marcus flashes her a grin and steps back, waiting until the door closes and he hears the security locks being latched before he walks towards the staircase.

Sunday is rarely a work day for you, and thankfully today is a very usual Sunday. Agent Sisson is still here when you get up, not having slept very much after the State dinner from all of the thoughts whirling around in your head. Aside from your little outburst, you had a fantastic time. Marcus is the perfect date and had even charmed the rest of your family. The brooch that he gave you is sitting securely in your jewelry box to be worn at the next possible opportunity. Everything is good.

Except you have about a hundred messages on your phone when you finally pick it up after getting out of the shower to get dressed for the day. A dozen different people have texted you, your social media accounts are going haywire, and you even have a missed call and voicemail waiting for you.

The knock on your door is quick, opening just as quick as Sydney pokes her head through the door. “I’ve brought Danish.” She calls out.

“Come in! I’m getting dressed!” A favourite blouse and comfortable jeans will do for today. Nothing over the top, just a day to relax with your best friend and get a few things done. Syd is always fun to do your weekly grocery shopping with. Deciding to check your phone afterward — it’s probably just people wanting to know how the dinner went — you quickly get dressed and shove your phone in your pocket to come out into the kitchen. “Good morning sunshine.”

Danish isn’t the only thing that she’s brought, although Agent Sisson has already snagged a blueberry lemon muffin and a chocolate bacon croissant and refresh the coffee in his cup before retreating back to the couch. “Good morning to you, princess.” Sydney throws you a grin. “That’s your new nickname. The Times called you ‘First Royalty’.”

“Oh god.” The groan she gets from you is immediate, and you huff as you reach for the iced soy hazelnut white chocolate mocha that Sydney brought you. “The Times wrote about me? Really? That seems…I mean there was actual royalty there.”

“Apparently you and Marcus made a splash.” She snickers, showing you the copy of the newspaper she had made Juan run out and get copies of. She actually made him get all the papers, just to see the pictures of you.

“Ohhhhh no…” It’s above the fold of The Washington Times. The Post has it in a collage of photos just below the fold, since they had the decency to put the President, King, and Queen above the fold. The Washington City Paper has it front and center with no regard for the important guests of the night whatsoever. In every single paper, you’re right there in Marcus’s arms: being dipped low with beaming smiles and dreamy expressions on both of your faces. First Princess and Mystery Man Sweep State Dinner: What Will the Congressman Say? asks the City Paper and you drop into the nearest chair with a groan. “Oh, this is so bad…”

She winces and shrugs slightly. “In your defense, it’s just a dance.” She huffs. “If he’s so upset about a dance, that’s just unreasonable. It’s not like you were making out with him.”

“But I wanted to.” You slump over with your coffee clutched in two hands and huff loudly, knowing you sound ridiculous as you groan again. “Syd…he has my appendicitis scar…it’s not just theoretical anymore.”

“You saw your scar?” Her brows wing up as she tries to figure out how you had seen his stomach in some innocuous way.

“No, no, god no. Can you imagine? That is what would have ended up in the papers.” The papers. Ugh. “He mentioned having scars from his soulmate and his childhood all mixed together, and when I asked him about it a little later in the night he pointed to the exact place where my scar is and made a little jagged swishy motion with his finger exactly like my scar.”

“So he’s your soulmate.” She nods, having been more convinced of it than you had. “What did he say when you told him?”

“I didn’t.” A fact which makes you cringe completely. Mostly in shame. “I convinced myself on the spot that I shouldn’t tell him until I’ve broken up with Sam. Plus, ya know, he’s still dating Vanessa. So there’s that. If they’re happy then I don’t want to fuck things up for him at all. He doesn’t deserve that.”

She blows out a disappointed raspberry and rolls her eyes. “God, really?” She snorts. “I – are you scared?” She asks seriously. “I’ve never seen you hesitate this badly in your life. Not even when Bobby Brasino dared you to jump off the bridge when we were in ninth grade.”

It isn’t the first time you’ve been grateful that she can pretty much read your mind, but you flop backward in the chair and have a sip of your coffee with a deep sigh. “I’m terrified,” you admit finally, but point one stern finger at her. “And that was a very small bridge. Plus, Bobby Brasino was a dick and he deserved to be embarrassed in front of the whole football team. I stand by that.”

“You had bigger balls than Bobby Brasino.” She laughs. “I would say that you still do, but babe…” She reaches out and takes your hand. “How upset would you be if the roles were reversed?” She asks. “If he suspected for over a month that you might be his soulmate and never said a word. Wouldn’t you be hurt? Upset?”

“I would want to know why.” You can readily admit that. Wanting an explanation isn’t too much to ask. “But as long as he had a good reason I wouldn’t be too upset. And I spent the last month agonizing over wanting to be with him or talk to him every single second, so I think that should earn me back at least one or two points that I will inevitably be losing for being a fraidy cat.” Reaching for the pastry box in the middle of the table, you pull out a peaches and cream Danish and flick your eyes back to Sydney. “And…I think I came up with a plan last night. Or at least half a plan.”

“Tell me your plan.” The fact that you plan on doing something is a good thing and she picks up the blueberry Danish she had been craving.

“I’m gonna need Juan for this one, but I think it’s going to work.” Even though the breakfast she brought is absolutely perfect, it’s less important right now than telling her what you’ve been thinking. “I’m going to go over to Sam’s today and end things. No more scaredy cat procrastination. And then I’m going to mine Juan’s knowledge for all of Marcus’s favorite things and put together an actual, big grand gesture. He talks so much about meet cutes, and true love, and romantic gestures…I think he deserves to be on the receiving end for once.”

Syd hums, impressed with the idea and she is happy that you are willing to woo the agent. The man that Juan thinks is perfect for you, because he is. “I think that’s perfectly plausible.” She agrees. “Have you talked to Sam?”

"Not yet. I woke up, took a shower, and then you got here." The coffee she got you is amazing and it's already half gone, giving you a little caffeine and sugar buzz to go with your determination. "But it needs to be today. I don't want to have to fight with him about these newspaper headlines for no reason."

“I don’t think he will fight with you.” She hopes he doesn’t fight, not when you have no control over the media’s headlines. Of course they sensationalized a moment to sell papers, he should know that. It’s just heartwarming instead of scandal, which the world needed more of in her opinion.

"I'll get called a few names, probably. But at this point I might deserve it, I don't know." You shrug slightly and chew a large bite of pastry before sitting forward at the table again. "Everything he said last night...all the things that line up so well between us...I just...I want to make sure that Marcus knows he's worth having a fuss made over him. I mean, he told me how he got his ex-wife to go on a date with him and that man seems like he is all about the grand gesture."

“How did he get her to go on a date with him?” She’s curious and takes a sip of her decaf tea, wishing it was the coffee that you hold in your hand. Eager to hear some juicy details as she picks up a croissant and nibbles on it.

"According to her, playing guitar and bass wasn't enough to make him a real musician." The heavy way you roll your eyes shows how much you disagree with that, but it's clear that this particular woman had strong opinions. "So he learned violin, taught himself Bach’s Violin Concerto in E Major, and played it for her. Then she agreed to go on a date with him."

“Holy shit.” She whistles, having heard about how difficult violin concertos are, and she wasn’t even that close to someone who plays.

"See what I mean?" Your eyes light up as it seems to click in her head as well. "Grand gesture. It's the way to go."

“It seems like it might be the best thing.” She nods, taking another bite of the pastry and humming. “Juan thinks so highly of him.” She admits. “When he finds out that he’s your soulmate? He’s going to be over the moon.”

"He's having dinner with us, right?" Sydney's husband was going to spend the afternoon running their own errands and seeing some friends before the three of you sat down to dinner together, and now it seems all the more important. "My Mom called Marcus handsome, by the way. Right off the bat. I could have burst into flames in embarrassment."

“Well, babe, he is handsome.” She points out to you, like you aren’t aware of that fact. “Not has handsome as my husband, but I might be a little biased.” She snorts. “Although they look like separated at birth twins.”

"They really could be brothers," you snort, amused at the thought. "Can you imagine? If they were separated at birth or something?"

“That would be amusing.” She grins. “If they are, I vote that Marcus’s parents are my real in-laws.” She jokes, having a tumultuous relationship with the widowed Mrs. Badillo.

"Are you sure?" That has you raising an eyebrow at her over your coffee. "His mother is a psychiatrist."

“Has to be better than Juanita.” She snorts, still amused after all this time that Juan’s name was chosen after his own mother’s.

You huff, but still smile and shrug a little as the last sip of your coffee disappears up the straw. "If I ever meet her, I'll let you know."

“You don’t believe that All-American Marcus Pike isn’t the type to bring his soulmate home to mother?” She teases, pegging Marcus for exactly that.

"Just because we're soulmates doesn't mean this no longer ridiculous and now totally justified crush I have on him is actually requited." Do you hope it is? Of fucking course. But you would never expect it. You still believe in the right to make your own choice, and that goes for Marcus, too.

“Are you kidding me?” Sydney jumps up and grabs the newspaper again. “Do you see this?” She demands, shaking it in front of your face. “This is Disney Princess shit, man!”

“I don’t want to expect anything of him.” It’s a clarification, though, and you still take the paper from her and cradle it in your hands like something precious. “I swear I almost kissed him after that dip,” you tell her with the dreamiest, softest sigh. “I don’t know how I controlled myself, honestly.”

“Juan would have been dragged into a coat closet.” Sydney agrees, grinning wickedly.

“If we were both single?” You throw one hand up in a sort of resigned dismay. “You would’ve found him here when you brought breakfast this morning.”

“Too bad you weren’t single.” Sydney pouts. “It would have been cute to see Marcus blush when I ask him how does it feel seeing that tattoo on someone else for a change.”

“You’re awful.” The burning is in your cheeks, not Marcus’s, and you swat at your best friend futilely even as both of you erupt into giggles. “Maybe one day. But not yet. That’s just…I really don’t expect him to just fall into my arms or anything. I just want to make sure that he knows he has a choice.”

“That man wants his soulmate.” She groans, shaking her head at how absurd you are at times. “He wants to love and be loved. His soulmate? He will think your fart rainbows.”

“I do fart rainbows,” you tell her solemnly, adopting as sage a fine as you possibly can. “I’m adorable and medically concerning that way.”

Sydney snorts and rolls her eyes as she tosses a napkin at you. “Yes, you are a modern miracle.”

“My Mommy says I’m a national treasure,” you snort, erupting into giggles all over again.

“Oh God.” Syd cackles and throws her head back. “Nic Cage is gonna want to steal you now.”

The two of you are cackling uncontrollably at the table when your phone starts to ring. It takes a few seconds to dig out of your pocket, but the image of Sam’s face taking up your phone screen is fairly sobering. With the gut instinct that this can’t possibly be a happy phone call, you reach over to squeeze Syd’s arm and wait until she stops laughing to answer. “Hello?”

“Good morning.” His voice is rough, raspy with the obvious rawness that illness brings. “I need to apologize. I only realized what day it is today.”

“No, you’ve been sick. There’s no need to apologize.” He sounds strained and still ill, but not angry. So that’s a bonus. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I could go back to bed and sleep.” He admits with a small laugh that turns into a cough.

“Then that’s probably what you should do.” It feels like a special kind of asshole move to just dismiss him, and that’s not actually what you intended to do but it’s what it sounds like. “Do you have food in the house? Medicine? All of that?”

“I actually do.” Sam sounds a little confused by your question. “Didn’t you drop off some medicine and soup?” He asks.

“I did, yeah. And I asked Vanessa to keep an eye on you, but I wasn’t sure how fast you would go through what I brought over.” It was a week ago, after all. You glance over at Sydney and chew your lip, wondering if doing this on the phone would be cowardly.

“Thank you.” He pauses for a moment and coughs again. “It looks like the dinner was a success.” He starts tactfully. “I’m glad that being sick didn’t leave you without an escort.”

There it is. You bite your lip just a touch harder, steeling yourself for the conversation, and shift at the table to sit forward. “It was better to bring a friend than to spend all night with a staffer I’ve never met before. I’m sorry you had to miss it, but it’s good that you’ve been able to rest.”

“I would have been horrible company.” Sam can acknowledge that, even if he’s not too pleased with how the picture on the front page looks. “I slept most of this week when I was thrown out of my office.”

“You were highly contagious and needed rest.” This is exactly the kind of conversation you anticipated having with him — the insistence that going easy on himself is essential to the healing process and that his staff was right to send him home. “Nobody wants an international incident because the King of Spain caught pneumonia on his visit to America.”

“That wouldn’t be a good thing.” Sam admits, although he would have been a little more settled if that picture wasn’t splashed over the front page. The headline was inflammatory, but he knows you and your feelings on cheaters.

“It’s…” Reaching for Sydney’s hand to steady yourself, you squeeze her fingers and swallow your nerves. It’s already past time to do this. “It’s good that you called, actually.”

“I know I need to apologize to you.” Sam murmurs softly. “I was out of line on Valentine’s Day. Would you let me make it up to you? Dinner tomorrow night?”

“Sam…” squeezing Syd’s fingers a hair tighter, even your eyes squeeze shut this time. “I was going to talk to you about this last week, but that turned out to not be an option. I think…” Come on, breathe. You can do this. “I think it’s fairly clear that we have different visions of our futures. It’s…I think this isn’t going to work out.”

The seconds tick by and Sam is silent as he absorbs your words and processes them. “I….see.” He’s hurt, slightly upset that you have chosen to end things without a real conversation and over the phone, but he doesn’t say that. “Well then, I guess dinner is out of the question.” He attempts to be lighthearted but the words come out hurt. There’s a flash of an incoming call and he pulls the phone away to see who is calling. “I’m sorry, I have another call coming in. I—I should let you go. Take care? I’ll call you later?”

“Of course. I still want us to be friends even if we’re not together. And I have a few things of yours to return to you.” It isn’t much. A lent book, a sweater, a scarf of his that he said brought out your eyes. “And—I am sorry, Sam. This isn’t how I wanted this to go.”

“Of course.” Sam clears his throat. “Goodbye, Birdie.” He clicks off the line quickly.

All you can do at that point is put down your phone and groan quietly. You let go of Sydney’s hand and rub your face with both hands, shaking your head the entire time. “I shouldn’t have done that on the phone,” you sigh after a second. “I just got so anxious when he apologized and asked me to dinner — I almost said yes.”

“I’m sure it will be alright.” She comforts. “I didn’t hear any yelling, so it doesn’t seem like he was angry.”

“Worse than that,” you sigh and let your forehead hit the table with a soft thunk. “He got quiet and cold. Which means he’s very upset.”

“Of course he’s upset.” Sydney will always be on your side, and boost you up. “You’re amazing, for one. Two, he loves you. Thirdly, he probably knows him being a dickhead on Valentine’s Day caused this. And fourth…” she doesn’t have a fourth point so she just shrugs. “Did I mention you’re amazing and a hottie?”

“I love you, too, Syd.” Turning your head to the side on the table, you huff at yourself for a moment before straightening up. “I guess we can cross driving to Maryland off the list for today. Do you still want to go food shopping with me? I think there’s going to be extra sweets in this trip.” Even though you’re the one who did the breaking, breaking up still sucks. And it’s going to require chocolate.

“Of course!” She grins at you. “I’ve already told Juan; I’m craving macaroons now.”

“We’ve moved on to a fancy craving! You must be ecstatic.” It’s just a little tease, but you can feel a little of the tension slip away almost immediately. “Agent Bailey should be here for the shift change in a few minutes. I’ll throw on some shoes and we can go to the market when she gets here?”

“That works.” She smiles and wonders if you are planning on calling Marcus today, just to keep in touch while you plan your grand gesture.

You stand from the table but pause to look at the papers again, smiling with a touch of relief as you look over the photos of you and Marcus dancing together. “I have to admit…we do look good together.”

“‘Atta girl.” She belts out a laugh and takes her last sip of tea. “You go get ready and I’ll poke through your cabinets to see what you need.”

“I have a list, but check my spice cupboard and make sure I’m not out of anything you consider mandatory.” Quickly arranging the papers on your table, you snap a photo and send the text off to Marcus.

To Marcus: In case you haven’t seen the papers today, we seem to have made a splash.

Marcus is sitting in a moderately comfortable chair, drinking subpar coffee to try and keep himself awake so he doesn’t miss the announcement. When his phone digs, he looks down at it and hates the way his heart flutters when he sees that it’s from you. Smiling slightly as he replies: It seems as if the press corps was enjoying themselves. I’ve seen that video running through the news cycle…First Princess.

I’m not sure I’ll get used to that moniker anytime soon, but it’s all thanks to you. I hope you had as wonderful a time as I did last night. You hit send but continue to stare at your phone, chewing the idea over and over while you shove your feet into your favourite pair of boots by the door. Any chance you’re free next weekend? I still owe you that rescheduled dinner.

Marcus winces, sighing softly as he types back: Depends on if I’m back by then. I’m sitting in the airport waiting for my flight to London to board. Interpol called me at 4:30 this morning.

The thud you make when you lean against the doorway with a pout is very audible, making both Syd and the newly arrived Agent Bailey peek around the corner to make sure you’re okay. When they find you still face down in your cellphone, they stop worrying.

Did you manage to get any sleep or can you maybe rest on the flight? We’ll go for Indian whenever you get back. Frowning at the message, you added one more thought to the end before hitting send. And stay safe out there. I know you can take care of yourself, but still. Stay safe.

It’s a little gratifying that you think of his safety at all, making Marcus soften slightly. Thanks. I’m planning on sleeping on the flight. I had a great time at the dinner, hopefully you aren’t getting too much shit for the photos.

Sydney thinks they’re the greatest thing since sliced bread. I think she might be right. Thank you for an amazing night. Sleep well and I’ll talk to you soon? It’s a relief to be able to be honest. With yourself as much as with him. If you could tell him his much you’ll miss him — how you already miss him — without coming in too strong? You would do it without hesitation.

Marcus stares at the message for a moment, wondering what you mean by that, and he pops up when he hears his section being called. Shoving his phone into his pocket, he stands up, wishing that he could have seen you again before he left.

It's hours later, after errands are done and you have had a chance to let a little of the guilt roll off your shoulders about the break up, that you and Sydney and Juan are sitting down in their dining room with an overflowing bag of Indian take-out and a copy of every single paper or tabloid you could find with your face on it.

It's surreal to see them all – because there are so many of them – and even more surreal that you've decided you don't really mind very much. Because it's Marcus on that page with you. You're so happy in these photos and it's a kind of radiating joy that you wouldn't have ever expected from yourself.

“I have to say, I never expected this reaction.” Juan admits as he gestures to all the papers and magazines. When you and Sam Chase were first spotted together, you hadn’t wanted to see the photos or articles until your mother’s PR team wanted to chat.

"I guess it's different this time?" Admitting it feels silly, and your cheeks are burning all over again, but the smile on your face is undeniable. "I'm less nervous with him."

“I can tell.” He grins, having already been informed of the soulmate status, and leans back. “He’s a good man, Birdie.” He promises you. “The best. I don’t know if I’ve ever known a man as good as him.”

"He's so sweet, and such a good dancer..." You cringe slightly, but end up giggling. "And so hot. I really...I'm not even holding back anymore."

He laughs at your almost defiant expression and holds up his hands. “Don’t look at me. I’m not saying a word. But it sounds like you’ve fallen head over heels at the idea of your soulmate?”

"Does it make me a hypocrite?" You ask honestly, a little worried about that fact as you unpack the take out bag and start spreading various containers of curry, rice, samosas, and onion bhaji around the table. Syd grabs the gulab jamun container to bring into the kitchen so she doesn't forget to get the ice cream to go with it and gets some plates in the process, but you're busy pairing serving spoons with all the various containers while you talk to Juan. "That's the only thing I'm really getting stuck on now. After spending a year talking loudly about freedom of affection, to then go and find myself feeling like this for my soulmate? It's...a lot."

“I don’t think that it makes you a hypocrite.” Juan shakes his head. “You’ve never bashed soulmates or said that you would never be with your soulmate, and you and Sam were in a real relationship.” He shrugs slightly and his arm curls around his own soulmate’s shoulder when she drops back down onto the seat next to him. “What would be the difference between the spark fizzling out or you finding you’re incompatible without knowing about Marcus?” He poses. “Just because you didn’t see the flaws in your relationship with Sam doesn’t mean they weren’t there.”

“It’s very adult, right?” You hope it is, at least, as the three of you dig into various take out containers with aplomb. “To be able to step away from a relationship with grace?”

“It is.” He can admit that, groaning at the first bite. “I swear this is the best fucking take out ever.”

“Isn’t it?” You’ve been thinking of this butter chicken for weeks, and even if it’s a Basic Bitch kind of choice for Indian take out, you don’t care. It’s amazing. “Best samosas in DC. Hands down.”

“Oh that’s perfectly accurate.” Sydney moans as she takes another one after already eating the one she had.

“Think it’s too late to tell my mother I want Indian food for my birthday?” Even asking the question makes you snort. With barely more than two weeks left until your birthday, you’re sure every single plan is set in stone. “She won’t even tell me what pub we’re going to. I assume you guys got your invitations already?”

“Of course we have.” Sydney grins. “I could hint to your mother that you want to have some Indian appetizers?”

“If the invitations are out then the menu is already set,” you shrug, knowing that it will be good no matter what it is. If you didn’t know your parents were fully capable of throwing a fantastic party, you would’ve insisted on having more input. “Frankly I’m more worried about the fact that Mom was just going to ‘tell Sam where to bring’ me.”

“Are you not planning on telling them soon?” She asks, forking up some of the rice and butter chicken sauce with peas.

“I am patently terrified to tell them.” It’s childish, you know that, but your parents love Sam. They approve of him in every way they can, largely because you never tell them about your disagreements. There is no reason to get them involved in your love life beyond having them meet the guy you’re seeing and sometimes share a meal or an event. “Dad had practically started planning the wedding.”

“Well…you don’t have to tell them right now.” She reminds you. “Just give it some time and then it will seem like you just grew apart.”

"You're right. It doesn't have to be a dramatic announcement or anything." After all, the break up itself had been fairly anticlimactic as well. It simply is what it is, and sometimes life throws you curveballs. "I have more important things to think about right now." You flash Juan a grin. "Like how to tell my soulmate that he is, in fact, my soulmate."

“Yeah.” He hums in agreement and ticks his left eyebrow up. “How are you planning on doing that?” He asks. “Get a new tattoo?”

“I was sort of hoping for some help brainstorming,” you admit sheepishly. “I’ve never done anything like this before. It’s…just a little more important than asking Garrett Hawkings to prom.”

“No, that was a big deal.” Your best friend smirks as she remembers how you almost puked when you asked him. “But this has more of a lasting meaning.” She admits with a shrug.

Juan tilts his head. “What do you have in mind so far?”

“Right now I’m thinking something music oriented, or maybe art?” That’s much too basic, and you slump in your seat a little. “I really only have one idea, but I don’t know if it will actually be fun or if he’ll just end up hating it.”

“You don’t want to announce it on the Jumbotron at a Nationals game?” Juan asks, chuckling at the idea. Even if it’s corny, it’s also cute.

“I want to tell him, not the whole world.” Even if the thought did cross your mind, you’ve already ruled it out. Marcus deserves something special. Something unique. Plus, the first game of the season is too far away. You really don’t want to wait that long.

“What do you have in mind? He might love it.” He takes a sip of his tea and then hands another samosa to his wife, the last one from his own plate.

“There’s this place in Old Town that just opened up a few months ago. It’s an art gallery, but once a week they have what they call ‘Wine and Watercolors’. They open their bar, bring in a live band, and you can pay a little materials fee for a canvas and watercolors to use for the night.” It sounded amazing and romantic to you, but Sam had had no interest. Which, in hindsight, doesn’t surprise you.

“I don’t know if Marcus likes to paint, but it’s romantic.” Juan admits. “He loves things that he can spend time doing with his significant other.”

“That’s kind of my roadblock.” There is a bite of chicken on your fork and you sigh at it like it’s personally responsible for your dilemma. “He said he’s not a very good artist, and I don’t know if that means he doesn’t like making art at all.”

“Nahhh.” Juan shakes his head. “Marcus is an experience kind of guy. He can’t cook for shit but he used to go on those ‘couples cooking’ dates with Lara. Enjoyed it because it was new and he was spending time with her.”

"Besides." After eating the offending piece of chicken, you point your fork tines at Juan. "If we're drinking while we're painting, then no one in the room is aiming for museum quality."

“I can’t argue with that logic.” He laughs. “Besides, if it’s abstract art, it’s supposed to look like shit.”

"But..." Cutting your eyes between Juan and Sydney, you can feel the heat creep up your cheeks. "If I just so happened to paint my tattoo...that would be a bit of dramatic reveal in a good way. Right?"

“Can you paint it?” Juan asks curiously. He’s never seen you paint so he has no gauge on your abilities. “To make it recognizable?”

"I'm not exactly going to be forging an Audubon anytime soon, but I'm not a terrible artist." This little plan that has been cooking in your head all day does rely on it, after all. So you need to be able to pull it off. "I'm going to have to practice a little, but I think I can do it."

“Then I would start practicing.” Juan snorts. “When are you setting up this date?” It might seem quick to some, but to most soulmates, the fact that you have suspected for a month is forever.

"Whenever he gets back from London." That little fact had certainly put a damper in your plans, but there's nothing to be done about it. You would certainly never be upset with a significant other for having to work, let alone a friend.

“Oh?” He seems surprised that Marcus is out of town so quickly and you know about that. “Did he leave right after the dinner? He didn’t say anything the other day.”

"He got the call early this morning." That creeping heat in your face is all the way down your neck though, which how very pleased you look about your little bit of insider information. Even Sydney snickers at how much like that cat that got the cream you are right now. "I texted him this morning and we chatted a little."

"I see." Juan glances over at Sydney and smirks when he glances back at you.

"What?" If it's totally innocent, then there's no reason for smirking or glancing, right? "Friends text. That's not unheard of."

"Friends is not what I see in those papers." He reminds you. "And if you texted him this morning, you were obviously dreaming about him the night before." It's a general teasing tone, winking at you playfully. "Prince Charming in your dreams."

"I'm not going to deny that." Not anymore. Not now that you're unattached and free to give affection to whomever you see fit. The part of you that rises up into your throat whenever you look at those printed pages is definitely in control of your mind right now. "I just don't want to get ahead of anything. Just because I feel whatever this is...it doesn't mean he does, too."

Juan chuckles and rolls his eyes. "That man – he said that he didn't care about soulmates, but he does. He was so sappy every time one of our fellow agents talked about finding their soulmate. He loves love, but I think that he always hoped to find you."

"I don't see any world in which Marcus isn't ecstatic to be with his soulmate," Syd agrees, although she's only known him the month or so since he first arrived at the restaurant. But already, she and Juan have spent much more time with him since then than you have.

"I just don't want to assume that kind of reaction and be disappointed," you rationalize. "It would only be my own fault."

"Caution is good." He doesn't think that it's needed, but rationally it's never a bad idea to be levelheaded about the matter. It's rare to have a soulmate interaction with clarity of thought.

"That's all it is. Just caution." Even though you're nodding your head, there is still a dreamy sort of expression on your face that you can't shake and you're not even sure you would want to if you could. "Will you tease me forever if I ask you for stories from when you guys were at the Academy?"

"Of course." He snorts, as if it's ridiculous for you to even ask that question. "I will lovingly tease you forever while still thinking that it's adorable to witness you fall for Marcus even more through stories."

"I am not falling for anyone." The biggest lie you have ever told in your life and everyone here knows it. "I just have a teeny, tiny, ever-growing crush. That's all."

“Teeny, tiny my baby-growing ass.” Sydney snorts. “I think if you had been single last night, Marcus Pike would have been having breakfast with us.”

"Maybe." It's not even worth disputing, if you're honest. You would have brought Marcus home with you last night in a heartbeat except for a few very important factors. "But there's still the whole Vanessa thing. For all I know they're madly in love."

“I doubt that.” Sydney scoffs. “That woman – I’m sorry – she was, is, in love with Sam.”

"That probably should have been something you pointed out to be while I was dating him," you roll your eyes at her while the takeout containers are getting passed around for everyone to have seconds.

“There was no reason to spike jealousy when you know that Sam never would have risked a scandal.” She reminds you. “He always talks about those who do have infidelity scandals need to resign.”

"To be honest?" Another piece of honey ginger naan hits your plate and you suck a drip of honey off your thumb after putting the container down. "I could never tell if it's cheating he hates or just being sloppy about it."

“I would hope it’s the cheating.” Juan huffs, knowing that he and the congressman would have gotten sideways if he had cheated on you. Being Sydney’s best friend puts you firmly in little sister territory for him.

“I would hope so, too.” You just shrug though, knowing it’s a moot point. “It doesn’t matter now.”

“No, it doesn’t.” Juan agrees. “Are you planning to talk to Marcus while he’s gone? Where did he go?”

“He said he was going to London and he wasn’t sure for how long.” The sticky sweet naan on your plate is early dessert and you dab at the spicy ginger honey happily. “I said we should talk later but I haven’t heard from him since. They probably had him working the second he touched down, though.”

“Probably.” Juan agrees. “Marcus, the few cases we worked on together, was always one to hit the ground running.”

“A man of action,” Sydney teases, grinning at the way your expression turns even dreamier.

“Marcus was always popular among the female agents.” Juan warns you. “But the man I know would rather take a bullet than cheat.”

“Good.” Though you had a feeling that he trended that way, it’s nice to have confirmation. “It would be nice to not have to think about that at all.”

“No, you don’t have to worry about that.” Even though it’s been a number of years since he’s spent a lot of time with Marcus, some values are just true to their base layer and that’s one of them for the other man. “But—�� he holds up a finger. “You could consider his job his mistress. The Bureau can be a demanding one at times. Stealing him away during dinner when that damn phone goes off. So…beware.”

“I love that he’s dedicated to his job. And that it’s a job that actually helps people. I’d rather have that than a partner who comes home miserable after work every day.” Spouses busy with work is something you’ve seen. Something you’ve lived through. Something that you were directly in the middle of as a kid, before your dad decided to stay home with you and your siblings.

“I know you can handle it.” He assures you. “I don’t know if Lara understood for some time though.” He admits with a sigh. “He was stretched thin for a bit when she was upset about all the training. That man will pull himself apart at the seams to making someone he loves happy.”

Looking up at Juan, you sit forward in your chair a little and frown, almost shaking your head. “When was the last time he actually had someone put him first? It…sounds like he’s always the one making accommodations or bending to his job or his partner. Do they ever do the same?”

“From what I’ve heard….not really.” Juan admits. “With Lara, he was already married when we were at the academy together, but he told me about Teresa.” He shrugs. “They were both agents, but it seems like she had an interest in a consultant she worked with and used Marcus to either make him jealous or try to get over the other guy.” He sighs. “They got engaged and she was supposed to move out here with him to DC in the position he pulled strings to get her.” His frown is very judgmental. “She called him from the plane and then the other guy did the grand gesture of boarding the flight to ‘win her’ and she never showed up.”

There is an intense moment of silence at the table, followed by you very firmly putting your glass down with your jaw on the floor. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Wish I was.” He sighs again, thinking back to the conversation he had with Marcus. Feeling slightly guilty about sharing it when it should be his story to tell, but hopefully it will give you some good insight into the man the universe linked you with. “He stopped dating for nearly a year, enrolled in therapy and worked on himself after that.”

“How could a man that sweet just never have been anyone’s priority?” It’s enough to make you actually mad, which is something you hadn’t expected, but you’re deeply upset on his behalf. And with the realization that you had done it too — contributing to the problem when you cancelled dinner on him a few weeks ago. No wonder he was upset with you. At that point you were just one more person in a pattern. “Well,” you decide firmly. “It stops now.”

“Uh oh.” Juan snorts, recognizing the determined tone of voice. He hasn’t been married to Sydney and not spent enough time with you to see the stubborn streak ten miles wide inside you. “Are you planning on love bombing him?”

“I would definitely not call it love bombing,” you insist, since the term has some fairly extreme negative connotations. “But I am going to make sure he knows that he’s valued and appreciated.”

“Poor guy won’t know what to think.” He hums sadly.

With the idea that you’re going to take Marcus to Wine and Watercolors when he comes home from London, you find yourself doodling on a pad of paper in your office the next morning while you review the bookings for the coming week. There are a few repeat customers on the books and you want to make sure you anticipate anything they might need, and you’ve also had a few room cancellations over the weekend that you need to clear out of the system so they can be snatched back up by new guests.

The time difference is vast and he's happy that it's later in London. Having just got off the phone with a nearly hysterical Cameron, Marcus hopes you aren't too busy and can help. He dials your number, figuring this would be best to talk about in person than text.

"Hey, have you seen this?" Sydney opens the door to your office and waves a paper around. "Derby Farms burned to the ground yesterday." She huffs, walking over to your desk and depositing the newspaper down so you can read the article and see the photographs of the burnt rubble. "The entire venue is gone."

“What the hell happened! I loved that place.” But just as soon as you pick up the paper to begin to read, your cell phone goes off on the desk on your other side. Marcus’s name is splashed across the screen with one of the media photos from the State dinner that you had put with his contact info. Flashing a grin at Sydney, you scoop up your phone and answer it quickly. “Good morning, sunshine,” you greet easily. “And good afternoon, too, since it’s…almost tea time there?”

"Hey." It's a much warmer reception than he had anticipated, but he reminds himself that you are friendly, not to read too much into it. "I hate to call and start off with 'I need a favor'." He huffs. "But...I need a favor."

“Of course.” It wasn’t so long ago, after all, that you were talking to Sydney and Juan about people not making Marcus a priority so you’re going to stop that trend in its tracks. With a little humor, of course. “Are we talking treason, because that does get sticky. Agent Bailey is very good at her job.”

He laughs, slightly relieved that you are willing to hear him out. "So I have an agent on my team. Lovely woman. She was set to be married in two weeks at Derby Farms but apparently that entire venue burned down yesterday." He explains. "She took off work today and when I called to check on her – because she never calls off – she was nearly catatonic with grief. She's already paid for everything."

"In two weeks?" Your eyes blow wide and you glance up at Sydney before opening the inn's operations calendar on your computer. "Do you know the exact wedding date? Sydney just brought me the article about the Farm to read, I loved that place."

Marcus gives you the day and sighs. “I know it’s a lot to ask. Is there any way you could help her out?” He asks. “Even if you aren’t available, do you know someone who is? She’s lost all of her wedding plans. Up in smoke – literally.”

The second he says the date, you know you don't have anything booked. There is a reason that you don't have anything booked. Juan had asked for the weekend off almost a year ago so he could go on a ride with his friends, who were all planning on taking their bikes out along Route 66 for a few days for the nostalgia factor. Without your wedding planner on premises, you hadn't booked in a wedding.

It's not that you can't do a wedding yourself. You used to do them before, when you managed the inn under the previous owners. And this is Marcus asking. Marcus who you fully intend to support and make feel valued. "Absolutely," you tell him, changing the date in the inn's calendar to a saved booking. You can absolutely handle this, and the poor bride doesn't deserve to have her day ruined through no fault of her own. "We don't have a booking that weekend, so she can have it here if she wants to. Do you want to give me her number so I can contact her, or is it easier for her if you just pass her my number?"

“I can give you her number. Cameron is really sweet and right now, I know she’s overwhelmed. Her and her fiancé are debating postponing, although they don’t want to.”

"That won't be necessary," you promise him, already mentally clearing your schedule of absolutely everything else to make this happen. "I'll give her a call as soon as we hang up. Everything will be fine." The small smile that graces your lips can only be seen by Sydney beside you, but he can probably hear it over the phone line. "You're a good man, Marcus. Helping her with this is a huge deal, and I hope she knows she's lucky to have you in her corner."

“I feel bad for her.” He waves off your praise, even though it’s a lovely little warm spot inside him and his cheeks heat up. “It’s not her fault the place burned down and I doubt the owners can help her right now.”

"I'm sure they have plenty of their own problems to deal with right now." The nightmare of losing the place had kept you up at night for months after you bought your own inn, you can only imagine how the owners of the farm are feeling right about now. "But we'll make sure Cameron's wedding is still beautiful. Cross my heart."

“Thank you.” He murmurs softly. “I will owe you any favor you want.” He promises with a small laugh. “Are you ready for her number?”

"I'll remember that," you tease, just keeping the thought light and having no intention whatsoever of cashing it in. This is for him. "Go ahead. I have a pen."

Marcus gives you Cameron’s number and sighs softly in relief when you repeat it back to him. “Thank you….seriously. I hate when I can’t help someone and I can’t do anything over here.”

"You've done something enormous." He really does put everyone else first, and you would just shake your head at him if he were in the room with you. "Don't worry about a thing, Marcus. I'll take care of this. Your agent is in good hands."

“Thanks again.” Marcus hums. “Well, I hate to ask for a favor and running, but I have to meet Interpol in about twenty minutes. Talk later?”

"Absolutely." That has you grinning like a mad woman, and you don't care to apologize for it. "Call me when you stop moving for the night. I'll let you know what's been worked out and you can vent about whatever you need to. Deal?"

“That works.” He agrees, smiling through the phone at the care you are showing. “Bye.” He waits for you to acknowledge and then hangs up, staring at his phone and wishing that he could say something to you about the fact you have shared tattoos.

"I apologize in advance for keeping you very busy coming up, but we are going to do Marcus a favor." Even if you bite your lip when you put your phone down, you're serious by the time you look over at Sydney who is now sitting on the edge of your desk. "One of the agents in his department had their wedding scheduled at Derby Farms in two weeks. I'm going to call her and offer her the date here. But it's the weekend Juan is going to be away, so it'll be just you and me running the show."

“Holy shit….poor girl.” Sydney huffs, motioning to the paper. “They reported that the Derby doesn’t have fucking insurance.” She groans. “They let it lapse.”

"Of all the stupid ass things to do." You shake your head and groan. "If I ever say something as dumb as that to you, please wave this article in my face and slap me with it." Picking up your office phone, you glance down at Cameron's number and nod to no one in particular. "Alright, I'm going to make this call and then I'll come and let you know what's up?"

“Sure, let me know. I can throw a tasting box together quickly.” She promises, walking towards the door as she starts to think of what cakes to make samples of for the unhappy couple to hopefully cheer them up.

"You're the best!" You call after her, already dialing the number you wrote down as the door to your office clicks shut again. It rings three times and you start mentally preparing a message to leave before the call connects on the other end and a sniffling voice answers.

"Hi, Agent Cameron?" You introduce yourself by name, careful not to talk too fast and overwhelm the upset bride. "I'm the owner of The Inn at Jones Point in Alexandria. I got a call from Special Agent Pike just a few minutes ago and he let me know about your situation with Derby Farms. With your wedding day coming up so quickly and the situation being so unusual, I'm calling to see if you would like to relocate your big day."

“I— what?” She is completely confused and on the brink of tears again when she registers what you are saying. “He— he called you? To see if you had availability?” Wiping away tears on her cheeks, she hates how nasally she sounds right now. Crying always makes her sound like she has a head cold. “I— I don’t— it’s all been such a mess. I’ve heard of the Inn but I don’t— I’ve never been there.”

"I know you're very busy with everything that has happened, but I'm confident that my chef and I can help you straighten things out and get them back on track." Trying to sound as confident as possible on the phone might come across as arrogant to some people, but when you're in the middle of a mess sometimes confidence can be a buoy. "If you would like, and if you're able to, why don't you and your fiancé come out to the Inn today so we can talk through everything? Our in-house restaurant caters all the weddings that we do here and our chef will have some fantastic samples for you to try out."

“Really?” The first threads of hope rush through her only to be deflated a minute later. “We— I don’t know if we can. We had already paid for everything, and now— I don’t know if I’m getting my money back.”

"I understand things are up in the air right now. And weddings are a very costly day. Why don't you bring your vendor contracts and assorted paperwork with you when you come, and we can go through things together?" It's going far above and beyond what you would normally do for a couple that has had scheduling mishaps, but again – this is for Marcus. "We'll find a way to make it work."

“I— do you know Marcus?” She asks curiously, sure that this isn’t something that would be done for everyone, although she’s about to start crying in gratitude.

"Yes, I do." Clearly his agent hasn't been reading the papers lately but that is neither here nor there for you, you just smile into the phone. "He's a very good friend, so I'm going to do everything I can to help."

“I don’t know what to say. Thank you.” She gushes. “I— my fiancé and I can be there in an hour? Is that too soon?”

"That's just fine. I'll take you on a tour of the property when you get here so you can make sure you like the place before we sit down and start working through the details." You give her the address and the phone number to call back if she has any questions, and assure her once again that you'll make sure things are taken care of before hanging up the phone and heading straight to the kitchen where Sydney is working with some cake batters already. "I hate to tear you away from brunch, but our couple is going to be here in an hour. Thank you so much for jumping on board with this."

“I can’t imagine how stressed she is right now.” Sydney sympathizes. “Two weeks before the wedding. Just contacting everyone on her guest list to tell them a change of venue will be a massive undertaking.”

"I'm going to take them on a tour first thing, and set up the table on the back porch to talk through things with them. Are you thinking standard tasting samples?" There are certain things that brides gravitate towards from Sydney's catering menu that you know she can put together quickly, and right now that's a bit of a boon.

“I am, but if there’s any curveballs in their original menu, let me know and I’ll adjust.” She promises. “I’ve already got six different mini cakes baking.” She had dry ingredients mixed together all the time for the most common cakes so all she had to do was measure and mix in the wet.

"You're an angel, I love you, and I owe you a spa day." Blowing her a kiss, you gather up a tray of glasses and tasting plates to set on the table on the back porch with a reserved sign. That can be set up immediately, to sit and wait while you do a perimeter walk of the property and think through everything that will need to be arranged.

Two minutes before the hour is up, a sedan pulls up into the gravel parking lot. A couple gets out and the man immediately walks around the car to wrap his arm around the woman, pretty and petite, although it’s clear from her puffy eyes that she’s been crying.

"Agent Cameron?" Having stopped to check your clipboard at the front desk just a moment ago, you step out onto the front steps of the inn with your best reassuring smile when the couple get out of their car. "I'm so glad you could make it on such short notice."

“Soon to be Agent Wiley.” The man who is protectively holding her extends his right hand to shake yours. “Michael Wiley. We are so very grateful for your time.”

Cameron nods, almost ready to cry. “I’m sorry— I’ve been so emotional about all this.” She explains, fanning her face to try to keep the tears away.

"There's no need to apologize. You've been through the wringer today but hopefully we're going to bring that to a halt for you." You shake both of their hands and nod to the path that takes visitors around the grounds behind the inn. "Let's just start with a walk. I'll show you the facilities here and you can tell me what things you had picked out at Derby Farms so we can try to bring the two things together."

“It’s a lovely place….but—” she bites her lip and looks up at Michael who nods slightly. “We have already spent so much. My— um— we aren’t soulmates, and my family won’t pay for the wedding.” She admits, aware that some wedding venues will not marry non-soulmate couples. “Now that we might not get anything back…”

"We don't discriminate here. My staff is made up of all kinds of people in all kinds of relationships from all kinds of backgrounds. So don't worry about that at all." It's part of what you talked about when you would talk about freedom of affection on the campaign trail, so you're sure as hell not going to let it stand in your own business. "Did you bring the vendor paperwork that I mentioned when we spoke on the phone?"

“Yes!” Almost forgetting it, she breaks away from her fiancé she dives back into the car to pull out a thick binder. “I’ve got all the contracts and, well, everything for the wedding here.” She promises you, hesitating a moment before holding it out to you.

"Sometimes there are clauses in these contracts that have contingencies, and wording can be tricky," you explain, accepting the thick file and setting it on top of your clipboard. "Something terrible happened outside of the realm of your control, but we're not going to let it ruin your wedding. We'll find a way to make the money work." In that, at least, you can make a real promise to this couple. "I own the place. No middle managers in this conversation."

“Oh!” She takes the first really good look at you and tilts her head in surprise. You had told her your name, but it hadn’t clicked. “Oh God, you’re the President’s daughter, right? I’m so sorry,” she apologizes. “I didn’t make the connection. I’ve been so frazzled.”

"Honestly, it wouldn't even have phased me if you didn't make the connection at all." The only thing that comes close to bothering you is those people who go out of their way to tell you that they did not vote for your mother, but even then you just smile politely and remind them that the beauty of democracy is that they get that choice. "Besides, this day is all about the two of you. I just want to make sure you're able to enjoy your wedding."

She’s wary, but she nods with a smile. “I appreciate this so much; I know that it’s so last minute.”

The tour goes reasonably well for the overwhelmed and emotional couple, and you show them the manicured gardens for pictures, the main grounds for their ceremony, and the old carriage house which will easily transform into a full reception space in the event of rain. It mirrors the tone of the barn at Derby Farms that they had originally planned on using and allows them to breathe away a little bit of worry. By the time you make it back to the porch for cold water and a tasting, they are looking just a little less harried and you take that as a good sign. "How are you feeling about the space?" You ask them once they're sitting again, and you smile at the pitcher of ice water that Syd has put out before pouring out three glasses.

“It’s gorgeous.” She admits with a shy smile. “This is an incredible place and I’m so surprised you are not booked up.”

"We are, most of the time," you admit. "The reason your weekend is still open is that my event planner is away. So I would be coordinating your wedding personally."

“Oh.” She shoots you a guilty look. “That’s— you are okay with that? If it’s too much— I, we, understand.”

"I'm perfectly okay with that. In fact, from what you've told me about your original plans for the day, it sounds like it will be beautiful." The file of their contracts still sits next to you, and you already know you aren't going to charge these folks a dime. "But it's also why I'm prepared to offer the space to you. I'm the only one taking on extra work beyond a normal wedding weekend, and I'm happy to do that. I will work through your contracts and contact Derby Farms regarding their lack of insurance to take that off your plate. You already have your photographer and florist, correct? Did the Farms' in house catering include your wedding cake?"

“It did.” Her mouth drops open in a small sigh. “Another detail to work through.”

Michael squeezes her hand. “We will figure it out, baby. Even if we are serving cupcakes.” He promises softly bringing their joined hands up to kiss hers.

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that." Sydney emerges from the back door of the inn with her tasting plate and a smile, the ever-growing bump under her chef's coat on display as she comes to the table. "I prepared a tasting of our most popular cake options for you to try out today, and while you do that I'm going to go ahead and make us all some lunch. Can you tell me about what you planned on serving originally?" You had discreetly texted her during your tour, letting her know the relatively small size of the guest list and the good impression you had of the couple. It sounds like an intimate wedding that will be beautiful, and she wants to make sure it's perfect.

"Sydney Badillo is our chef at Il Corvo," you introduce with a smile. "She's going to be your caterer."

“Oh my god!” Cameron’s eyes light up when she sees the plates with the mini decorated cakes. “I— okay, we had gone with the most popular choice according to Derby.” She explains. “Sliced roasted beef or baked chicken with a vegetable medley and whipped garlic mashed potatoes.”

"Sounds like a very nice, popular option." Sydney isn't going to pan the options that the other venue gave them considering the disaster they got stuck in, but she knows she can do better. "Did you need a vegetarian or pasta option? Our restaurant's menu is Italian so we have a little bit of room to play in."

“I— um,” she looks to Michael, who nods.

“Tanya is vegetarian, babe.” He shrugs and looks back at the two of you. “Perhaps a few plates?”

"We can definitely do that," Sydney assures them. "I'm going to go make us some lunch and you have your dessert first." She scoots back into the building quickly, gone in the blink of an eye.

“I love Italian, what do you think?” Cameron asks her fiancé before looking at the cakes closely.

"At this point, I'm ecstatic to not have to reschedule and to not lose all of our invested money," he admits with something akin to a grateful laugh. He finally feels like he can breathe for the first time since they got the news. "We had just gone for a simple white cake with raspberry at the Farms," he tells you honestly. "Nothing was revolutionary but it was all good quality. We just want to have a nice night with our friends and our family."

"If you want to stick with that, we can definitely do it." You take the raspberry cake off the tasting plate and cut it half, setting both pieces on plates with forks for them to try. "This is our vanilla cake with raspberry jam."

Cameron forks up a bite and her eyes flutter closed on a moan. Michael chuckles but he is also groaning when his own bite hits his tongue. “Oh, this is so good.”

"The other three mini cakes are our house chocolate, which we do with a strawberry layer and ganache, a lemon cake with fresh blueberries, and an almond cake with fresh plums and buttercream." It's good to see them smile a little, and enjoy themselves in the face of so much adversity.

“That sounds amazing.” She gushes. “All of them.” There is a small idea that is forming, but it might be way too much to ask with the short time left before the wedding.

“Give them a try, and if none of these quite hit the mark, we can talk about other options.” You’re going to make this work come hell or high water. It’s far more than Marcus asked of you, and maybe it’s not awesome that you have an ulterior motive in helping these very sweet people, but the fact is that they’re going to get a great wedding out of the fact that you want Marcus to think of you as someone he can rely on.

The couple digs into the cakes with gusto, enjoying themselves and unwinding as they cheerfully debate the best one, grinning and laughing as they feed each other small bites.

“What do you think?” When they’ve tried everything and managed to pause before filling up on cake alone, you fill up water glasses and take out your pad of paper to start taking note of any ideas or questions they might have.

"They are all so amazing." Cameron admits, looking longingly at the pieces of cake left. "If I had booked with you to start with, I would say do miniatures of all of them, but...." She glances at Michael to confirm and grins as she looks back at you. "We want the lemon cake with blueberries."

“Well when it comes time to do your anniversary party, we’ll have a big batch of miniatures.” Jotting down the cake choice, you nod and sit up again with ease. “Obviously with just a few weeks to go we’re not looking at a terribly elaborate cake, but it will be beautiful and delicious.”

"No," She shakes her head and leans forward. "We were— are planning to have the florist bring flowers to decorate." She explains. "I guess I need to call them and tell them that they will be bringing the flowers here?"

“That would probably be best.” At least they’re smiling again, which is an enormous boon as far as you’re concerned. “Flowers in the cake will be gorgeous.”

“Oo, did we pick?” When Sydney comes out the door again, she has a heavy tray of three family-sized plates and a stack of lunch plates alongside it.

"We did." Cameron informs her with an awe inspired gaze. "Your lemon blueberry cake is amazing. I've never had one that isn't too sweet."

“It’s all about balance,” Sydney smiles proudly. “That’s what we had at my wedding, too. It’s honestly one of the most popular choices.” The tray beside her starts to be unloaded, and there are more happy groans all around. “These are our versions of beef, chicken, and pasta for a wedding day. Veal Marsala with roasted garlic mashed potatoes, chicken piccata with roasted delicata squash and parmesan polenta, and a mushroom and ricotta rigatoni al forno.”

Michael's eyes are wide, unsure of where to begin and Cameron just moans again as the smells tingle and tease her nostrils. "You are amazing." She huffs. "It smells so good."

“If you don’t like the side, we can switch things up,” Sydney promises. She also brought plates for the two of you, and grins as all four of you start to eat together.

"If you don't mind me asking, how do you know Agent Pike?" Cameron asks curiously. "He never said a word and then when he showed up on the front page of the papers, he conveniently had to fly out of the country."

"He is an old friend of Sydney's husband, actually." Deflecting a little from the newspaper story, you will give your friend all the credit here for providing the connection for you to meet your soulmate – though that detail will remain quiet. "They were at the Academy together. One day last month he came by to see Juan and to check out the restaurant, and we made fast friends."

"Wow. It's a small world." She hums. "He's a fantastic friend so I can see why it was so easy. He's a real sweetheart."

"He's fantastic." The side eye Sydney gives you when you say it is subtle, and you ignore it so you don't say anything gushing and give yourself away. "We haven't known each other long but I'd call him a good friend already."

"Obviously." Cameron agrees. "He never asks anyone for favors and he asked you for a big one."

"He knows how important this day is to you." The warmth that spreads through your chest at the recognition that Marcus might think a little highly of you in any way is elated and giggly in a way that you have to work very hard to contain. "And I'm glad to do anything I can to help you – and him – out."

"I don't know how we are going to pay you, but we are eternally grateful to you." Michael tells you. "You have changed our lives. We had thought we were going to have to cancel."

"I'm going to comb through these contracts of yours to see what sort of money I can recoup for you, and that will be plenty enough payment." You got a glance at it earlier and saw a few clauses about fault for cancellation that will probably bring in enough money to cover expenses for the night. Beyond that, you and Sydney already agreed to forgo taking payment for yourselves for the wedding to make sure that your staffs don't have to worry about pay cuts. It's going above and beyond, but hopefully you'll come out of this with a few room reservations in the future from the wedding party and guests, and plenty of business for the restaurant. It wouldn't be the first time you accomplished a hell of a lot on a shoestring budget. "Focus on enjoying your wedding, that's what matters."

There's a moment where he stares at you before he nods. Reaching for Cameron's hand again. "Thank you. You don't know how much this means to us."

"Is there anything else you'd like us to know about your day?" Sydney prompts, noting that the couple have dug into the plates she prepared with enthusiasm. They seem to love her food, so her part in this should be fairly easygoing. At least as far as weddings go.

"We— we've invited our families, but we don't know if they will show." The bride admits, looking down at her plate and sighing softly. "I would love to say that we won't need security, but I'm just not sure."

"Do you have reason to think that any of your family members might try to interfere with your day?" Scribbling quickly on your notepad makes the bride and groom flinch in front of you, but you stop immediately to reassure them. "We have had events that need security plenty of time before. We can manage it. I just want to make sure that you're safe."

“I don’t think so.” Michael clarifies. “We just aren’t sure. Most of our family acts like we’ve not ever said anything about getting engaged.”

"Alright." You nod at that, knowing that the trend of families being particularly hard on children who choose partners other than their soulmates can...particularly fierce. "Try not to worry over it if you can help it. We have plenty of practice at handling that sort of thing here and I promise you that we can handle it. Just focus on making sure your guests go to the right place and your vendors know about your change of venue. We'll handle everything else."

There's a release of tension from both of them that seems to just make them sag with exhaustion. They hadn't slept, couldn't, after learning of the fire and the worry had been so palpable. Now that it's nearly fixed, they lean against each other happily. "God, I'm going to sleep for twelve hours tonight." The female agent groans.

"I hope it's fantastically restful sleep." With everyone set the way it is now, you hope these two lovely people get all the rest they could possibly need. They've had a hell of a day. "If either Sydney or I have anything we need cleared up, I will give you a call. And of course you can call me about anything you need."

“I think I should get her home.” Michael apologizes. “We didn’t sleep last night and…”

"Of course." You stand to shake their hands, glad to see reassurance and relief on their faces. "I'm very glad to meet you both."

“Thank you.” Their gratitude cannot be expressed enough and their protests about paying for the tastings go unheard as you usher them to their car, the dwindling energy apparent when the first yawn breaks.

"Well." When you turn back to Sydney after they've left to help her load up the tray, you heave a sigh of relief. "They're absolutely sweet, and I'm glad they won't have to postpone their wedding."

“I can see why Marcus called you to help.” She agrees. “They are wonderful.”

"They really are." Offering Sydney a smile, you blow out a steady breath. But before it's even done, you're laughing at yourself. "Ready to throw an entire wedding for people I've never met at the drop of a hat just because he asked. Maybe it's a tiny shade more than just a crush."

“You think?” She snorts playfully, hip checking you. “I think we’ve crossed over into at least head over heels territory.”

Huffing at your best friend, you heft the tray up in your arms and stick your tongue out at her in what is clearly a very mature gesture. "Shut up," you grumble, following her back into the inn as she laughs all the way.

It’s been agonizing to watch the clock and wonder what is happening. Marcus checks his phone and sighs. It’s getting late and he’s already back in his room, meal eaten and the beer he had ordered still in the bucket.

By the time you're back in your apartment with the dinner dishes washed and your shoes kicked into a corner, you look up at the clock and calculate the time difference. It's late in London, and you should have called earlier, but there was an issue with a guest's room that you had to deal with to free Malachi up to be able to take care of the regular check-ins. Selecting Marcus's entry in your phonebook, you tap the call button and tuck your phone between your shoulder and chin, pouring yourself a glass of cheap, sweet wine to relax with.

“Hello?” Marcus isn’t asleep, the time charge has messed with him and he is not even tired. Sitting in his surprisingly spacious bathtub with a beer in his hand.

“Hey.” You can hear yourself smile down the line, even sounding perpetually dreamy now. “It’s Birdie. How was your day?”

“Hey.” There’s a softness to your voice that has Marcus longing to believe that it’s directed towards him. “It was good. Did you and Cameron talk?”

“We did. She brought her fiancé in for a meeting and we got everything squared away.” Leaning against your kitchen counter, drinking wine, and on the phone with Marcus…the combination of things sends a shiver of rightness down your spine. “They’re so sweet, and I hate that such a bad thing happened to them. You’re an angel for reaching out to help them.”

“They are fantastic. Cameron has asked if I can give her away if her father doesn’t show up.” He admits, shuffling slightly and the water splashes.

“You must be a hell of a boss if—” The sound cuts your thought off at the root, leaving you confused but amused on your end of the phone. “Are you in the hotel pool or something?” Don’t think about Marcus in a bathing suit…Don’t think about Marcus in a bathing suit…

“I-” Marcus coughs slightly, hoping you won’t be offended. “Sometimes when I can’t sleep, a beer in the bathtub helps.” He admits sheepishly. “Needed to get my second beer.”

“That…” You look down at the glass of wine in your hand, imagining sitting in a screaming hot bubble bath with beautifully scented bubbles all around you and letting the stress melt away. “Sounds incredibly comfy.” Almost as soon as you’ve decided you like the sound of it, you’re grabbing you wine bottle and heading for the bathroom.

“Yeah? You aren’t offended?” He asks, almost jokingly. “Technically I answered the phone in the bathroom, which is completely frowned upon.”

“Offended?” The psshh sound of disagreement you make is an immediate dismissal of that idea. “It’s not like you picked up the phone and ripped a massive fart or anything. Although honestly? I probably would have laughed. I’m actually thinking I might join you,” you admit, rummaging through your bottles of bubble bath that have stood untouched for ages.

He pulls the phone away from his ear and calculates the time difference. “You should.” He agrees. “Done with work for the day and needing to relax. Hot baths and alcohol are some of the best ways, especially if you can’t have a massage.”

“Can’t have a massage for the next four years.” You remind him, laughing at the ridiculousness of it. “Or eight. Depending.”

“Why is that?” He frowns, not understanding.

“President Mom’s rules of deportment.” Selecting a bottle of foaming bath salts from the shelf, you plug up the tub and dump the appropriate amount in. The hot running water will start dissolving them in no time. “It wouldn’t be appropriate for the First Kids to have intimate contact with strangers. Even professionals who sign NDAs.”

“Oh I wasn’t- talking about a professional massage or anything.” He admits, figuring that you would ask Sam for a back rub sometimes. He shrugs even though you can’t see that. “I didn’t think about the rules of deportment honestly. That sucks.”

“It’s mostly things for safety. Like having a P.O. Box for my mail so it’s hard for paparazzi or people who disagree with my mother’s politics to figure out where I live.” The bathtub in your apartment fills up slowly, and you sit on the edge to pull off your socks and sweater while you talk. “My parents would prefer me to being living in the White House but I can’t see doing that at almost thirty years old.”

“No, you can’t do that.” Marcus agrees. “Plus you run a business, you can’t just leave it in someone else hands, that would drive you insane. Plus you enjoy your work.”

“I do enjoy my work!” It’s almost exasperating that Marcus sees that so clearly when Sam needed to have it rammed through his thick skull. “The only way I’m ever moving out of this apartment is when I’m ready to live with my partner and get married, and then this goes back to being the caretaker’s apartment. Hang on.” Huffing at yourself, you put Marcus on speaker and set down your phone so you can get undressed. “The bath is ready.”

Marcus swallows and looks up at the ceiling as he tries to not imagine you undressing. It’s not technically wrong, he’s single, but you are seeing someone and he’s never been the type to cause issues.

It takes a minute or two, but the sound of water plopping comes next, and you pick up the phone again with a sigh. “So what was for dinner?” Just as conversationally as if you were in the same room, you set your phone on speaker on a shelf in the small, open cabinet beside your head and just talk.

“I thought it was a requirement to have bangers and mash when in London?” Marcus asks as a joke. “Or is it fish and chips? Anyway, I had the bangers and mash in this tiny little hole in the wall. It was amazing, but I’ve learned something about myself.” He tells you. “I hate mashed peas.”

“No!” Your animated gasp of shock is genuine, as silly as that seems, and you laugh to yourself as you pick up your wine glass. “Were they mint mushy peas? Because if not, that’s the reason they sucked. I don’t know why but the mint saves them.”

"I don't exactly know?" He admits, laughing quietly as he picks up his beer bottle and settle back into the bath. "I just know that I reverted back to my early childhood where my mother force-fed me mushed peas and sweet potatoes and I almost lost my entire lunch on the bar."

“That will definitely do it.” The two of you laughing together is musical even if it’s soft, the sounds mingling together with the splashes of water and sipping of drinks. “Go for curry tomorrow. Stay far, far away from the mushy peas so you won’t have flashbacks.”

"Either that or the fish and chips." He hums. "You know they pour malt vinegar on them?" He asks. "It's pretty good." It's easy to talk to you and he doesn't want to stop, even if it is late for him. Taking another swallow of the beer, he waits to hear your voice again.

“I did a semester abroad in London when I was an undergrad.” You tell him with a hum. Whatever the hell this wine is that Malachi recommended, it’s amazing and sweet and fruity. “I went to London and Syd went to Rome, and the plan was to visit each other back and forth whenever we could but she never made it to London often. That’s when she fell in love with food.”

"It's hard not to fall in love with food." Marcus agrees. "It's fucking delicious."

“True. I will give you that.” Sitting back in our own tub with a relaxed sigh, you turn to look at the phone like he was sitting right next to you — though no amount of wishing will make it so. “Where’s your favourite place you’ve ever gone?”

"Is it terribly cliché if I say Paris?" Marcus asks, huffing out a small laugh at himself. "I loved Paris almost a ridiculous amount. Although I wished it hadn't been for work and for pleasure."

“It’s not cliché if it’s honest.” It’s easy to picture him there, running through sunny streets or ducking into cafes to avoid the rain. Sightseeing and lingering over dinners and walking along the Seine. It’s dreamy. Fuck it. He is dreamy and you’re not afraid to think so anymore. “I’ve always wanted to go. It sounds…perfect. But I know that’s just because I’ve seen Amélie too many times.”

"Sabrina for me." Marcus hums, acknowledging that he has a romantic streak. As if you didn't know that. "I still wish the Concord was still flying. Going to Paris for a weekend would be so much easier."

“God, I love Sabrina, too. Charade and An American in Paris.” You snort, listening to yourself list off names. “I think I might have an addiction. Or just a dream. Maybe both.” Another sip of wine is a gentle burn down your throat and with whole Booze Bath thing might be your new favorite way to unwind. Especially if he’s on the other end of the phone while you’re at it. “And I’ve always wanted to go to Harry’s New York Bar and try to sit in every seat, just so I can make sure I sat in the same place as F. Scott Fitzgerald.”

“Are we drinking Old Fashioned or Negroni’s?” He’s asks, inviting himself along on the adventure that sounds like an amazing time. “Because I think that to sit in his seat, you need to have one of his cocktails in your hand.”

“Fitzgerald’s favorite cocktail was a Gin Rickey,” you tease down the phone, enjoying the ease of having so many small things in common. It’s never felt so genuinely comfortable talking to someone new and yet so very exciting. Marcus makes you feel like you could fall asleep in his arms with your heart blazing on fire. “So I will definitely be drinking a Gin Rickey.”

“I could have sworn I read somewhere he liked those drinks too.” Marcus pouts slightly, not really caring for Gin, but if that’s the drink, that’s the drink.

“I think Hemingway was a Negroni guy along with his daiquiris.” He sounds like he’s pouting on the other end and the overwhelming urge to reach through the phone and kiss it away is stunning. “Either way, we need to sit in every seat at Harry’s. Wherever Fitzgerald’s ass was, Hemingway’s was sure to follow. And vice versa.”

“Fuck, I’m thinking of The Great Gatsby.” He groans, hanging his head at his own mistake. This is what happens when you don’t reread the classics.

“I’m always thinking of The Great Gatsby,” you admit with another laugh. “When I was a preteen I begged my parents to take me to Long Island to see his house. I refused to believe he was made up.”

“I don’t blame you.” He hums. “It would be amazing if it were real.”

“Amazing and sad. But still amazing.” Returning the sound without thinking of it consciously, you hum back to him and close your eyes in the hot bath. “What’s the book you wish you could step into? Just crack the binding and fall down into it like Alice down the rabbit hole?”

“How many nerd points and I going to accumulate if I tell you that it’s The Fellowship of the Ring?” He asks with a snort, tilting his bottle back to drain the second beer.

“That’s such a good one though!” Immediately sitting up again, the slosh and splash of water is audible but you don’t care. “Whether you’re taking the place of someone in the fellowship or just going to live your best hobbit-y life in the Shire, that is a fantastic choice. Ten thousand points and a fancy ring you should never wear for Marcus.”

He laughs, easily and freely with you. “Maybe an extra companion on the journey.” He hums. “Another Merry or Pip.”

“Oh sure.” The sound of his laugh is magical, and you know without hesitation that you’ll continue to do whatever you can to hear it. “Because that’s what they need. More trouble. You just want second breakfast and Elevensies.”

“Absolutely.” Marcus insists. “Luncheon, and supper, and tea too.”

“Why do you think I was so excited when my best friend decided she wanted to be a chef?” You pose, hoping he’ll laugh again. “It’s purely for the food benefits. I’m just a hobbit girl at heart.”

“Are you hobbity enough to have a movie marathon where you have complete meals that are inspired by the Hobbits?” Marcus asks teasingly.

The sound you make is best described as an indignant harrumph, and this time it’s your turn to pout. “I would be if I had anybody to watch them with. Syd won’t watch them with me anymore. Apparently I outplayed that hand college.”

“The only way to watch them is the director’s extended cuts.” Marcus tells you. “At least every three years or so. Because it does take an entire weekend.”

“One hundred percent. I could not agree more.” All these small, nerdy parts of you that just line up are such a deep breath of fresh air to be able to share. “And mead is proof that there is magic left in the world.”

“You know….I’ve never actually had mead.” He admits, leaning back in the tub and looking up at the ceiling again. “Do I lose points for that?”

“Hmmm…maybe?” Pretending to think about it, you shrug your shoulders like he could somehow see you. “We’ll just have to get you some mead to try when you get back. While we plan our trip to Paris and Middle Earth.”

“Can we visit Middle Earth first?” Marcus asks, indulging in a dream situation where he would be able to travel with you for real. “Never been there before.”

“Absolutely.” In fact, you might agree to just about anything he asked of you in that lazy, sleepy voice. A voice that makes you glance up at the clock and sigh. “But honey…how long have you been awake? You must be exhausted.”

He pauses when he hears you call him honey, but he figures it is a friendly term. “Uh…” he pulls the phone away from his ear and glances at the clock again. “Thirty-six and half hours?” He answers. “Give or take?”

“And how are you supposed to be the Sherlock Holmes of Fine Art if you’re sleep deprived?” It’s not that you want to stop talking to him. Quite the opposite, in fact. But you know what it’s like to be sleep deprived with something important to do. You make silly mistakes that can sometimes cost.

“Jet lagged.” Marcus hums sleepily. He’s relaxed now that he’s talked to you, or maybe because of you. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“How about now?” If you could sneak your way into that hotel room and wrap him up in a soft bathrobe and snuggle him right into bed, you would do it in a heartbeat. The following morning would probably be very dirty, but still the sentiment remains. “Are you feeling a little more relaxed?”

“I could probably catch a few hours of sleep.” He admits, eyes slipping closed. He leans back even more and yawns. “Your voice is soothing.” He mumbles.

“Yours is, too.” So much so that you’re feeling boneless in your bath. Though after you hang up the phone you might keep thinking about him…for other reasons. There’s an undeniable ache building that will eventually need relief.

“Should probably let you go.” He huffs, the slight pout to his tone one of sleepy regret. “You sound tired.”

“You wanna call me tomorrow?” After crossing this comfortable threshold into not just friends, but friends who dance and chat on the phone? You’re not inclined to give this up.

"I can try." Marcus promises. "I don't know what the day might bring, but around this same time? If I'm not sleeping?"

"Sounds good." Though you won't voice it, you know you'll be waiting by the phone hoping that he's able to call. "I'm glad you got there safe and that you're going to get some sleep tonight."

“G’night, sweetheart.” Marcus has to drag himself out of the bath, but between the bath, the beer and talking to you, he’s ready to slip off into dreamworld.

"Good night, honey." The first time you hadn't even realized you had said it, but the second is as full of warmth as a hot toddy on a snowy day. And as the call disconnects you sit back in your bath with nothing but beaming giddiness on your face.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

HHL: @haileymorelikestupid @anoverwhelmingdin @storiesofthefandomlovers @missladym1981 @babeincolor @storiesofthefandomlovers

My Masterlist!

[clownmoontoon]

WAAUAUGHHGH HELLO FRIENDS ITS UPDATE TIME!!!!!

if you have or havent kept up w my talky posts lately heres a general rundown of all the things + an update! A LOT'S BEEN GOIN ON ALDKJASD

this is the promised more detailed break down of events, so feel free to scroll down to the end to get the TLDR!! <3

i realized thru therapy n talkin to friends/my sisters that my mother is an Abusive Gaslighting Narcissist (thank u therapist i love this title sm) and a whole lotta things in my life started making sense (like why i felt worthless/like a burden! my mom was actively trying to make me feel this way lol!!)

SO i reconnected w my sisters who i hadnt spoken to in ages bc i thought they hated me (guess why lol) and started keeping them updated win all the happenings that were happening! we agreed to keep our reconnection a secret from our mom for now, as it became clear she had tried to keep the three of us apart so she could guilt us separately for money and we wouldnt ask any questions if stories told to one didnt make sense with the other (none of them made sense LOL)

tho i tried to keep it on the dl it was hard to hide the fact that i was now aware abuse was happening, even if i didnt say anything i had p much decided to stop grovelling/begging for love/begging for respect bc i realized my mom was never gonna give me any of that no matter how much money i gave her ( in retrospect it sounds obvious when i put it like that but when youve been living it your whole life its quite a shock! :,o) ) so the lack of grovelling/paying for love started to make my mom quite angry and she started to escalate her abuse bc at this point none of us were giving her any money and she was aware i had money and was refusing to give it (i told her i had to save for one of my kitten's spay surgery, which was true, and the idea that i would use my money for anything other than giving to her made her veeerry angry) suddenly there wasnt enough money for food, not enough money for gas to drive me to work ( a less than 5 min drive vs a nearly 45 minute walk with no sidewalk along a busy road aa), etc u get the idea all the while my mom kept trying to guilt me for more money while always seeming to suddenly have the money when i kindly held my ground and refused to give anything (she kept buying her blonde hair dye, kept getting her car washed, buying JUST enough food for when she was in the house etc) in the end walking all that way was good bc the 5 min car ride was a lot more stressful and i was able to stop and get food on the way during this time i had talked w friends and my sisters about moving out, I REALLY WANTED TO, but no one could house me and my four cats and honestly i dont fault any of them for that, taking on a whole other person is a lot, much less someone w four cats no matter how well behaved they are ^^;

as my mom got angrier she made it clear how much of a burden i was now that i was saving my money, telling me the sooner i move out the better, threatening to call police if i dont leave etc (all very clear bluffs in hopes that id pay up out of fear, she refuses to admit she relies on me to take care of the house and her dogs) until one day i was taking notes on a class on my laptop and she walked in front of me and slammed my laptop shut and started ranting about why should i get to use the water or electricity etc essentially telling me i wouldnt be allowed to shower, take classes or do work until i started giving her all my money

also for those who dont know i wasnt living with her bc im a huge bum that loves mooching off my mom lmao we had an agreement, and she emphatically told me that i didnt need to pay to live there so long as i was working on my career and took care of my cats -> all things i continued to do despite it all lmao shes just very good at making me feel worthless enough that i give her all my money, i have no savings bc of this and didnt even realize why asdkl;jasd

ANYWAY one night she got angry enough that i genuinely felt scared, i had mentioned before that in my teens and early 20s i thought my mom was going to kill me and hadnt felt that way in some years til that night the look in her eyes was so ... dark? like immediately i felt "oh shes going to hurt me" she didnt, she just walked past me and didnt say anything but the look was there. i called both of my sisters the next day and told them that if anything happened to me to not believe our mom if she said it was an accident or that i did smth to myself etc and that 100% she did it and did it on purpose that was enough for my oldest sister who said suddenly during the call "what if i just come get you??" my oldest sister lives in virginia and i lived in ga which is a roughly 8 hour drive so i didnt think she'd really do that, and i reminded her i have 4 cats to which she responded "FUCK MY LANDLORD" LMAO she has a big house and told me theres plenty of room and tho the landlord said no more cats (she already has two and theyre registered as therapy animals) they hardly ever visit and always call first so we can do a quick hide or take the kitties for a ride or smth when they come

SOOOO SHE DROVE DOWN ON SUNDAY, STAYED IN A HOTEL, CAME MONDAY MORNING WHILE OUR MOM WAS AT WORK, HELPED PACK UP ALL MY STUFF INCLUDING MY KITTIES AND WE MADE OUR GREAT ESCAPE!!! \QUQ/

im mostly settled in my sister's house now and things are going great!! everyday im realizing just How Bad my mom's house was and it boggles my mind!!! ive never Not lived in an abusive home and finally being out is like!!! WHAT!!! it may sound small but just being able to wash my clothes and have food whenever im hungry is such a BIG DEAL to me and its just a given here and im rolling around like WHAT IS THIS LMAO ALSO MY CATS HAVE MADE THEMSELVES AT HOME AND ARE SO HAPPY AND COMFY AND THEY PLAY EVERYDAY AND ARE REALLY ENJOYING THE STAIRS BC THEYVE NEVER EXPERIENCED STAIRS BEFORE LMAO AND EVERYONE HERE LOVES TO PET AND CUDDLE THEM!!! \QUQ/ IM SO HAPPY!!! <3<3

TLDR: MY SISTER MOVED ME INTO HER BIG HOUSE IN VA W ALL 4 OF MY CATS AND THINGS ARE GOING GREAT \QUQ/

[thedisablednaturalist]

Tw for weight loss mention

The whole exercise will cure your disability thing is a fucking joke. Yes exercise is beneficial for your health, but only if you aren't already on shaky foundations. You need to be on a treatment plan that WORKS before going into the maintenance phase. You wouldn't do regular maintenance on a broken item, you'd work on getting it up and running first. And maybe it would even need specialized maintenance afterwards if it's especially fragile.

I have fibromyalgia and acute degenerative disc disease. My immune system attacks my nerves and discs in my spine are slowly calcifying and causing the bones to constrict and damage my nerves (i think thats how it works). I have days where it feels like my body is on fire from nerve pain and days where it feels like my spine is about to rip from my back. And days where I have both (like today!). I get numbness in my hands and feet. I have horrible migraines. I can no longer walk unaided more than maybe 5 minutes without severe pain. I have something wrong with my knees and hips but the doctors don't know what yet.

You'd think I live an obviously seditary lifestyle correct?

Hell no.

I walk aided on average 6 miles a day over difficult terrain OUTSIDE of regular activity almost everyday. My legs are muscular and strong. I get my heart rate up and a good sweat, like all the gym rats swear on. I am often doing physical labor such as weeding, digging, sample collecting, pruning trees etc.

I'm not saying this to make other disabled people feel bad or prove that they can do anything if they just tried harder. This is an extremely painful lifestyle I've chosen that takes a lot of lifestyle management AND BOUNDARIES to keep up with the work. I also have an extremely forgiving boss who is also physically disabled and knows what I'm going through (deciding between your passion and your health and having to do so each and every day) No one should ever be expected to do what I do. I'm not even sure if I should be doing this myself.

This is to prove that exercise? Has not cured me. My muscles are strong but still hurt as if they're broken and I have to take more breaks than my coworker. I am constantly getting out of breath and I flare up regularly if I'm not careful. I am in excellent physical condition outside of my disabilities. I go to different doctors several times a month to get checked out.

I previously went through a diet program and lost a lot of weight (basically starving myself and got off my depression meds which cause weight gain but are also the only ones that work) and guess what? That didn't do shit either!!! I still felt horrible!!! I've since gained back the weight anyway after switching to focusing on adding more nutrient dense foods than taking stuff away from my diet (also muscle weighs more than fat, and fat helps cushion my aching joints and spine).

The muscle doesn't do shit for my disabilities outside of maybe some stability. Exercising everyday doesn't make the pain go away. Without my medications and aids and nutrition plans and steroid injections and spinal adjustments and physical therapy (that takes my fibro and spine into account) and alternative work methods I WOULD NOT BE ABLE TO DO WHAT I DO. Exercise alone is like trying to make a car run with no oil. Yes it'll go but it'll get more and more damaged till it can't and will need its entire engine replaced!

And yet I see new doctors and they look at me and the first thing out of their mouths is do I exercise? I should try doing a little every day :) and then i fucking blow their minds when I tell them about my job. No longer can they use that fucking cop out on me. I've been through this rodeo. Ive tried their suggestions. If you are in pain and nothing is helping? Exercise ain't going to do SHIT. You need to get to a point where you can move without severe pain first (if that's even possible). Then and only then should you consider implementing regular exercise if you can. Also weight loss talk is a red flag and a cop out. They made me lose 50+ lbs before they would look into the reasons behind my pain. Weight loss did nothing for me and exacerbated my pain.

I am living proof that all that shit is a lie and a cop out. That is the point of this post. I cannot believe people with serious medical conditions are being forced to put their bodies through extreme duress just to be believed. You are not disabled because of laziness or because you sit a lot. Plenty of people live seditary lifestyles and do not live in constant excruciating pain (they may develop disabilities later in life due to this however, and should be doing preventative exercises to maintain their health)

Please, share my story with doctors. Use me as an example. I am proof that "exercise first treat later" does not work. I should not have had to wait years to have my pain validated. I'd rather hundreds of fakers get (what? A blood test? An MRI?) than one chronically ill person get told to try yoga and go away by a doctor.

[darcytaylor]

As someone with ADHD, like Luke, and the rejection sensitivity and anxiety that comes with it, I don’t have public social media profiles. So on one hand, I have some empathy for him. I really understand the low self-esteem, high levels of self-criticism, people pleasing tendencies, overwhelm, executive dysfunction, and stress. But he chose to go into film/ TV acting rather than theatre, knowing that the recognition and scrutiny that comes with it would be worse. He chose to go into acting even though it’s known that rejection is a huge part of the job. He has chosen to keep social media. He could have totally deleted all of his profiles when he deleted Twitter. Many actors aren’t online, including his own cast mates. I find it hard to believe that he solely kept it to please the fans, since he doesn’t post snippets of his life like he once did. He also chose to share that his profile is just for work now. Yet, he has been caught liking his girlfriend’s photos within minutes, even though he has a private account to do that, while Nicola posts about Bridgerton and he can’t even be bothered to throw her a like or a comment- let alone posting something himself. It’s been months of this. If he’s already online, it doesn’t take a lot to screenshot a news headline and share it to his story with a “thank you, these numbers are incredible”. So, on the other hand, I understand where the frustration is coming from. Is this a work account or not? The timing of some of those online-but-not-for-Bridgerton incidences coupled with the timing of the InStyle and premiere stunts was not a good look. It makes him seem ungrateful and like he wants nothing to do with the show. It’s his bad luck that Nicola is the internet’s darling. He won’t ever have her social media savvy and I do feel for him there. She outshines him in interviews and online. But the bar is really on the floor for him and a lot of fans are handling him with kid gloves (not you by any means). A lot of the criticism he’s facing is fair. He’s in an overwhelming situation right now, but he has the financial means to tackle it through therapy and by handing over his social media account to the publicists he already pays. I was jealous when he mentioned he has coping strategies for his ADHD and dyslexia in Bowral- it’s still a struggle for me. Unfortunately for me and women everywhere, we weren’t adequately included in ADHD research until the 90s and there wasn’t even a long-term study until 2002. I’ve been in weekly therapy for 5 years now, following a major breakdown coupled with grief, and for 4 of those years, I was waiting for an appointment with a covered psychiatrist to get *any* diagnosis, since I didn’t have the thousands needed to pay for my own private testing. If I have been able to prioritize this within my meagre free time and budget (rather than trips, nights out, restaurants, unnecessary shopping, etc. and with some debt), he can easily do the same. That lifestyle isn’t quite how I imagined my young adulthood would pan out. One Soho Farmhouse weekend of his could pay for a few months. And he’s had months on end since season 3 wrapped filming when he could have done intensive daily therapy, especially after his break up, rather than pursuing 20 year olds online or jetting off to another holiday. Maybe he did- I don’t know his life- but maybe he needs more right now. When he turned on Nicola’s notifications and started liking random posts she was tagged in by brands, I already assumed he had handed over his account. If so, his team should extend that to story posts for Bridgerton news. All of that to say, my empathy has its limits. The barriers currently holding him back have solutions.

Thank you for your response and taking the time to write in an ask. I appreciate you!

I do understand the frustration/disappointment of how Luke is handling some things (especially his social media). It seems like this is an area of his life that could be an easy fix for him (hand it over to someone more capable) and he just can't seem to take that step.

Luke is overwhelmed (as he has stated multiple times) and while I can also say it is the life he chose, I think it could also be a case of not realizing exactly what his industry entails.

It's easy to say that he's the one that chose it, but if he's doing something he loves to do, it was probably worth the risk in the end. Maybe he truly believed he could handle things like this. Hindsight is 20/20.

I am sorry that you weren't able to afford the proper health care and it has taken you so long to get a diagnosis. I hate that things like that are unattainable without money. It should not be the case.

Luke is privileged in that aspect for sure and it sucks when it seems like people take that for granted. Although hopefully, like you have also stated, he has been able to seek the help that he may need. All things like this take time and is also very personal (I don't want to further speculate on that matter).

I always strive to look at situations empathetically (and sometimes even to a fault). I always like to look at and come up with multiple reasons why someone may be doing what they are doing. This has let me see some situations in a different light, allowing me to be empathetic or sympathetic to situations. I know that with most situations it is never the case of being black and white (life is nuanced, people are nuanced). So many things can be at play at one time, and most of the time I can see valid reasons why someone is doing what they are doing (even when they are making bad choices).

Obviously I don't know what is going on with Luke at the moment, or where his head is truly at. But I have faith that he will come around and straighten himself out. I don't think he has done anything that is completely unforgivable, so I'm giving him a little bit of grace.

[lightandheatao3]

The Bunker - Criminal Minds

Chapter 8: The Story

Summary: Spencer Reid wakes up in a locked bunker to find half the current BAU and two of its departed members unconscious on the floor. The old team is back together but the reunion is not what any of them would have wished for. An Unsub from their past has decided it's time they all stop keeping secrets, even if it means exposing them by force.

Hotch and Derek have been pulled back into a world they tried to escape. Emily, Rossi, and JJ are doing their best to keep it together. Spencer is falling apart.

AKA a found family is reunited and forced to go through the most nightmarish version of family therapy imaginable.

Set months after the end of Criminal Minds: Evolution. Evolution referenced, but not necessary to understand the story.

Chapter Summary: Spencer and Emily have a moment to talk.

Read chapter 8 on AO3 or under the cut. All comments and reblogs are extremely appreciated <3 I would love to know what you like about the story :)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7

It was strange how rapidly time had lost all sense of meaning. Days ceased to exist. Hours, minutes, none of it meant anything.These words had been repeated devoid of context or reference so many times they had become completely divorced from the concepts they represented.

He had come to conceptualize of time in the form of bags of fruit.

All that existed in the world was the intervals between fruit deliveries. Those dire stretches of waiting to see if the next thing to come through that door would be doom, or just another bag with too much citrus and not enough apples.

He never thought he would miss fruit again. In fact, he strongly suspected that after leaving the bunker (if they ever did), none of them would ever eat another piece of fresh fruit as long as they lived.

Yet here he was, longing for it.

Since waking up in the stripped bare and scrubbed clean bunker, the clock had stopped.

There had been no more fruit.

Not a single delivery by which to set their metaphorical watches.

Time was transmogrifying once again, warping to fit the shape of this new reality.

It was stretching thin like a long piece of thread. The longer the thread pulled, the hungrier they all got. Once the thread pulled taught and snapped… Well, he didn’t want to think too much about it.

He knew all the theory behind starvation. He did not want to apply this knowledge in practice.

After a week (a week? 14 bags of fruit) in the bunker, they had given up the idea of sleeping in shifts. For the sake of their own sanity, they had decided it was necessary to maintain a routine. Some bastardized semblance of night and day under the endless fluorescent light.

How strange to yearn for the sense of safety they had back then, before the gas. He vowed to never again think ‘it couldn’t be worse,’ because it could be. It always could be.

They had once again taken to sleeping in shifts.

Each of them was desperate to be alerted the very moment food was delivered through that horrid, immovable door. If it ever was again.

They wanted someone awake at all times to look for the trickle or gas from the vent. If it happened again while they were all asleep, they wouldn't be able to cobble together their makeshift masks and protect themselves in some small way.

None of them wanted to have what happened to him, happen to them.

His throat didn't hurt much anymore, at least. He wished he could say the same for his stomach.

It was himself and Emily that were on watch this time. The others slept on the far side of the room, away from the door. He sat nearer the door while Emily paced back and forth. It took a while for the others to fall still and slip into a deeper sleep. They were, understandably, not particularly relaxed.

The cold concrete floor didn’t make for a comfortable bed. Thin, crappy mattresses: Another luxury of days gone by that he found himself dreaming of.

At last, Emily stilled her pacing and looked across at their companions. They had both kept as silent as they could for…. Hours? Minutes? The time it takes for a partially eaten apple to turn an unappetizing brown?

Whatever criteria she had been looking for to assure herself they were in a deep enough sleep, she apparently saw it.

She sat beside him, knees pulled up to her chest, and spoke softly. The room was big enough you could scarcely hear a whisper from the other side even when you were trying, so there wasn’t much danger of bothering them.

“I’m going out of my mind,” she said urgently. “It feels so stupid to say it, as it’s clearly the least of our problems, but I am so bored I could tear my hair out.”

“I understand,” he said. “There are only so many games of mental chess I can play before I start mentally flipping the board.”

She snorted, then hushed herself with a sheepish glance at the others. He smiled.

They were silent again for a moment. It was kind of nice to have some time with her without the others watching. She was the only one who never made him feel pitied.

Soon, though, in as little time as it would take to peel an orange, something in the silence shifted.

He glanced over and saw her her eyes fixed on him, looking as if she had something she wanted to say.

He was tempted to cut her off before she had a chance. He was so sick of everyone trying to make him talk.

He sighed.

He was too tired and too hungry and too bored and too lonely.

“What is it?” he asked quietly.

Her gaze softened. “Why didn’t you talk to me?”

He stared at her, deliberately blank. “About what?”

“Don’t be an asshole,” she said, elbowing him in the ribs lightly.

He smirked. “No really, is there something specific on your mind? Something in particular about me that has you concerned? I wouldn't know.”

She punched him in the upper arm, this time not so lightly. “You’re such a bitch sometimes, do you know that?”

She shoved him and he shoved her back. He leaned his head against the wall with a soft laugh. For a moment they both just breathed.

“Why didn’t you talk to me about John Cooley?” asked Spencer. “He died a year and half ago and I didn’t even know.”

“Because I felt guilty and ashamed,” she admitted candidly. “And because you weren’t around for me to talk to. You haven’t been for a while now.”

He looked down at the floor. “You’re right. I’m sorry,” he said earnestly.

“You don’t need to be sorry,” she said. “Just… You know I’m not judging you, right? I’m worried about you, sure, but I don’t think any less of you. Even if you never get clean, I still love you.”

“I know,” he said softly. A beat. “Why? Why aren’t you judging? Everyone else is.”

She didn’t try to convince him otherwise. They both knew he was right. The others might love him, and a couple of them might try to convince him they weren't judging, but they couldn’t help it. It changed the way they saw him, and he understood why. It changed the way he saw himself.

After a while, Emily said, “I think you and I are alike in a lot of ways. I don’t have to tell you that I’ve made some self-destructive choices in my time. I think... I don’t know… I think I want people to know me? Really know me. But I only show them the parts I want them to see, never the full picture. Then, I feel hurt that they don’t really understand me even though I never gave them the chance. Sound familiar?”

He looked her up and down. He thought about all the times he resented them all for not understanding what he was struggling with. He thought about how much more he resented them when they tried to talk to him about it.

He nodded.

He asked: “What would you have done if I had come to you with this?”

“I would have tried to help you.”

“Help me stop using?”

She mused on that for a second. “Yes, but also helped you get whatever support you needed to address why you’re using in the first place,” she said evenly.

“And if I told you I didn’t want that?”

She tilted her head thoughtfully. One of the others stirred for a moment but settled quickly. “I would have told you that you couldn’t work on cases anymore until you addressed the problem,” she admitted. “It’s not safe. You know that.”

He nodded again. “That's what I thought. That's also why I haven't come back to the BAU yet. I wasn't ready to choose. Being a profiler, or…” he left the other option unsaid.

“And now? Do you know what you want?”

“I want,” he said, “for all of us to get out of this bunker.”

“After that?”

He looked at her, wanting to reassure her. To give her some small ray of hope and promise her that he wanted to change. But she knew him too well and he respected her too much to pretend, so he said nothing.

The furrow of her brow informed him that she understood his silence all too well.

“Please don’t take this the wrong way, Spence, but… you know you’re not okay, right? I mean,” she gestured broadly at the room, “obviously none of us are okay. But aside from all this. Whether or not you choose to get help, you do recognize that this isn’t a good way to live?”

His stomach twisted. “I don’t know.” It's not as if his life had been better when he was clean. He didn’t want to think too much about it.

"Heroin, Spencer. You know the risks. I get it, it's more economical than medical grade pharmaceuticals. I bet a habit is hard to support while you're also paying for your mothers care, even on a salary like yours. It adds up." He wanted to yell at her to stop profiling him, to stop talking, but all he could do was look at his hands as he wound them together absently. She powered on, "It could be cut with anything. You can only be so careful."

"What do you want me to say?" he whispered.

“I don't know. I guess I just want to understand. Do you… do you want to die?”

He felt a jolt in his chest, as if he was falling. Her voice sounded small. Frightened. Desperately unlike the Emily Prentiss he knew.

“No,” he assured her. “I am not suicidal. I'm not John. You don't have to worry about that."

“Do you want to live?”

A beat.

Did he? Of course he did. Of course he wanted to live. “Yes,” he said, knowing immediately that it had taken him too long to say it.

She frowned. “One last one, and this might be the hard one,” she said. “Would you still want to live if you couldn’t get high anymore?”

A beat.

“I-” his breath hitched. “I don’t think this is really the time or the place for this conversation,” he said shortly, a lump forming in his throat.

A hand entangled itself in his and squeezed gently. He stared at the far wall, blinking back moisture that threatened to spill. After a few seconds, a head came to rest on his shoulder.

“Just promise me you won’t disappear on me when we get out of here. Let’s keep talking, even when neither of us have anything good to say,” she whispered.

He closed his eyes. When we get out. Maybe he could believe it if he just tried hard enough. “I promise.”

They sat together in silence for... a minute? An hour? The time it takes to eat half a bag of fruit?

His head was lolling down, eyes heavy, when Emily’s hushed voice jolted him back into alertness.

“So,” she started with a conspiratorial whisper, “would you really fuck Luke? Because you did not have to think about that answer at all.”

“Shut up,” he snapped back, burying his face in his hands. “It was just a game.”

She smiled wryly. “Do you like like him?” she goaded.

He laughed just a little too loud. Emily hushed him and he rushed to stifle it. They looked over to their sleeping friends. A couple of them stirred briefly but did not wake.

Spencer replied in a careful whisper, “No. You’re being childish.”

She narrowed her eyes, assessing him coolly. “But you would sleep with him, wouldn’t you?”

It wasn’t a question.

"Is it too late to go back to talking about my drug use?"

"Yep! We're talking about this now. Answer the question."

He didn’t know how to respond, so he just shrugged. Apparently, it was all the answer she needed. Her eyes widened.

“I knew it!” she exclaimed victoriously, followed instantly by slapping her hand over her mouth.

A series of groans emanated from across the room. Hotch was the fastest to his feet, followed by Derek, both looking at Emily questioningly, poised as if ready to fight.

“What do you know? What’s happening?” asked Derek, rubbing his eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” said Emily sheepishly while Spencer laughed at her. “I didn’t mean for that to be so loud. Everything is fine please go back to sleep,” she insisted.

“Too late for that,” said JJ, stretching her arms above her head and yawning.

“Did something happen?” asked Rossi. “Any new deliveries?”

“No,” said Emily to a room full of discouraged, gaunt faces. “Just Spencer and I talking shit."

“Oh yeah?” said Derek with a slanted smirk, glancing between Emily and Spencer. “What were you talking about that’s got you so worked up?”

Emily met Spencer’s eyes for a fraction of a second. He hoped it was enough for her to understand. This was not the setting in which he wanted to have that conversation.

“We were talking about the most trouble we ever got in at school,” she said without missing a beat. “I always knew Spencer was more of a troublemaker than he lets on.”

“Why am I not surprised?” said Derek with a laugh.

“Well, let’s hear it then,” prompted Rossi, still bleary eyed.

“It’s not that bad,” Spencer said, glad that Emily had provided a deflection he could work with so easily. “I was suspended one time in an otherwise exceptional academic career.”

“What could you have possibly done that was bad enough to make them suspend you? The positive media attention you must have been bringing the school would have been invaluable. I would have thought you could get away with anything," said JJ, her old public relations training never too far below the surface.

It was true. Prodigious geniuses could bring a lot of additional funding and opportunities for schools. That didn’t necessarily mean his teachers liked him or felt particularly protective of him.

“It wasn’t a big deal,” he prefaced. “It was right before I graduated, after I’d received early admission from Cal Tech. There were some older kids at school who had given me a hard time for the past few years,” to put it mildly, “and since I was going to be leaving, I decided I may as well…” he waved his hand in the air, trying to conjure the right words.

“Fuck up their shit?” Derek supplied.

Spencer smiled. “Pretty much. Most of them were preparing for their final exams and I found out that they had paid to access answer keys for some of the tests. My plan was to find out who they were getting the answer keys from and swap out the documents with incorrect keys,” he explained.

“That is a very you approach to vengeance,” said Rossi.

“Unfortunately, it didn’t quite go to plan. I found out their source was from the high school that a friend of mine attended. When I asked my friend for help, he, uh, had some other ideas about how I should be getting back at them. He’d had some similar problems with kids at his own school, but he wasn’t graduating quite as early as me, so I think he was trying to get some vicarious catharsis, maybe.”

Hotch cocked his head. “Ethan,” he said, and Spencer’s stomach twisted. “I remember you talking about him.”

The others nodded in recognition. Emily tilted her head at him curiously. He was sure they all remembered him talking about Ethan, as it was followed very quickly by him absconding from his duties to go visit his old friend during the Ripper case in New Orleans.

“Yeah. Ethan wasn’t as, how should I say this? Reserved, as I was. He thought I should take more extreme measures and I might have let him talk me into it,” he said sheepishly.

“What did you do?” asked Emily, leaning in, apparently forgetting that she was pretending that she’d already heard this story right before waking the others.

Nobody seemed to notice. Or maybe they did, but just didn’t care.

“We- well, the plan was we were going to break into school at night and put, um…” he didn’t want to say it. “This is so embarrassing. We were going to put marijuana in their lockers and then tip off the principal to do a search.”

JJ gasped. “That is devious,” she said with mock indignation.

"Man, with everything you've told me about those assholes, they probably deserved a lot worse than that," said Derek, shaking his head.

“Weren’t you 12 when you graduated high school? How did you even know where to get pot?” asked Emily.

“I didn’t,” he clarified. “I mean, it's Vegas, so it wouldn't have been difficult, but Ethan was the one driving the whole thing. All he had to do was steal it from his father.”

“So how is it that two geniuses with a perfect plan and a thirst for vengeance manage to screw up badly enough to get suspended?” asked Derek, eyes brighter than Spencer had seen them since they had woken up after the gas.

“It would have gone off without a hitch. I was picking the padlocks; Ethan was keeping lookout. I was terrified the entire time, but honestly? It was exciting to feel like I was finally able to fight back. Unfortunately, Ethan hadn’t accounted for just how much of a bastard his father was.”

The others seemed surprised at Spencer describing someone in that way, let alone his friend's father. They wouldn’t be surprised if they had met the man. Spencer didn’t think of himself as a judgemental person, but bastard was a mild description of Ethan’s father.

Hotch grimaced. “I suspect I know where this is going.”

Of course he did. Ethan would like Hotch, he thought. The two of them had a lot in common despite their contrasting personalities.

“His father reported us to the police. I still don't know what he told them, but they caught us trespassing on school grounds after hours. We got lucky and heard them coming just in time to run for the bathroom and flush the remaining evidence. They didn’t think to do a sweep of the lockers and the boys who we were trying to set up certainly weren't going to report drugs in their lockers."

The memories came to him as they always did; crisp and clean as if it had all happened yesterday. Ethan was wearing a thick blue jumper even though it was warm out. The taller police officer was named Michael Diaz and he laughed when Spencer begged him not to tell his mom, then called her anyway.

"Oh god,” he breathed. He was surprised by the pang of shame that shot through his heart. “I was so afraid of what my mom was going to think. They were going to tell her that we were there to get high and I was scared she wouldn't believe me when I told her the truth,” he said tightly, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t want her to think that I could be stupid enough to do something like that.”

The irony wasn’t lost on any of them. Suddenly, the story didn’t seem so funny.

It had seemed so obvious to him at that age. Right and wrong were as easy as asking himself, would this disappoint my mom?

He could tell them how the story ended.

Ethan willingly took the blame for everything before Spencer could say a word and got hit with a misdemeanor charge for trespassing. Thankfully, that was all they could prove. He was a juvenile first-time offender with a glowing academic record, so the case was dismissed, but that didn’t stop his father from beating the shit out of him for it.

Spencer’s mom didn’t pick up the phone when the police tried to call her, so officer Diaz drove him home. When the school sent a letter informing her that he was suspended, he tore it up and told her he was feeling too sick to go in. She never questioned it. She just seemed happy to have him home.

He could tell them all of that.

But he didn’t need to.

It was hard to look back at that 12 year old boy and imagine how he could become the kind of man who his mother would be ashamed of if she only knew the truth.

“Did you ever talk to your mom about what happened in Georgia? About everything that came after?” asked JJ gently.

“Of course not,” he answered quickly. “What good would that do?”

“It might make you feel better,” she offered. “I think she would understand.”

“She already worries about me so much. She’s not well. It wouldn’t help anything to worry her more.” She would probably forget it right after he told her, anyway. He sighed. “I hope someone’s checking in on her.”

“I’m sure Penelope is,” said Emily, setting a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sure the others are looking out for all of our families,” she said to the room. “I know it doesn’t feel like it, but we’re going to be okay. You're going to see them again. I promise you; we’re going to make it out of this.”

Hotch nodded at her, a gesture of support. “Emily is right. I know we’re all exhausted and scared and hungry, but we know that there are people on the outside who are looking for us. We have to trust them to do their jobs.”

"It's not gonna matter much if we starve in here," said Derek ruefully.

“The thing about hunger,” said Rossi, “is that sooner than later it’s going to fuck with your head in ways you don’t expect. But it won’t last forever. It doesn’t fit the profile for her to starve us and if we're right about either her or her accomplice having medical training, then they won't let it go too far. As hard as it sounds, we have to try to keep morale up, and the best way to deal with hunger is distraction. So let’s cut it with the melancholy and find a way to keep ourselves entertained. Reid,” he said. Spencer stared at him questioningly. “Have you ever considered narrating an audiobook?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“No?”

Audiobooks were not his preferred medium. He found them unbearably slow.

“Too bad. Because I think a good book is just what the situation calls for and as the only one of us with an eidetic memory, you’ve drawn the short straw.”

Spencer couldn’t help but crack a small smile, doing his best impression of a man who wasn't hollow inside. “As long as I get to choose the book.”

“Naturally.”

The thread of time stretched longer, pulled taught, crept ever closer to breaking. He hungered. It gnashed and gnawed, making his stomach turn and his forearm itch and he couldn't say for sure which hunger he would satisfy first if he had the choice.

But he pushed it down. In his mind, he ran his finger along a row of books in a vast library, and thought about what story would best bring them all a little comfort.

[dw19791967]

That Feeling Part 3

Pairing: Dean x reader (eventual), OFC Tyler

Y/N POV and Dean POV

Warnings: language, unrequited love, angst, unwanted kissing, depression, anxiety, and feelings.

Trigger Warning: This fic contains discussions of depression and anxiety and feelings that go along with those. If that could be triggering for you I would skip out on this one. It is based on some experiences I have had in real life.

*All mistakes are my own!

I'm back (kinda) here's part 3. I'm thinking possibly two more parts. Let me know what you think!

-Layla

*I do not own this gif

Y/N’s POV:

It has been 5 months since one of the worst nights of my life. I started therapy and have been doing a lot better. It was kinda weird at first talking to someone about my life issues and past traumas, I spent a lot of time just sitting there trying to figure out what to say, especially since I can’t mention anything about hunting. But overall it’s been good. I’ve been taking better care of myself, spending more time with the boys, mostly Sam. Dean has been distant lately but I figured it was because he has spent so much one on one time with me the last few months. Sam has helped me start exercising daily (even though I hate it with every fiber of my being). I’ve lost around 10 pounds which is great considering I still eat a ton of take out. I’m starting to feel like my old self again. I took a break from hunting and started writing, that lasted a hot minute before I was tired of staying home. 

Being back in a routine was good, I feel good.

We are on the road currently Sam caught a case about missing bodies. One of my favorite things. They think I’m weird for enjoying the quiet of cemeteries, but I know it’s because the dead are easier to deal with than the living some days.

“Ok, we got four missing corpses. Gladis Bramford was the first, mid 80’s when she passed. They found her head a few counties over, still missing the rest.” Sam was typing away on his computer.

“Who the hell takes a head only?” Dean had a grossed out look on his face.

I laughed.

“Evidently someone had big plans, poor Gladis.” I poked Dean in the shoulder.

Sam rolled his eyes. “The strangest part was her eyes were replaced with red glass, they haven’t been able to figure out which funeral home she was housed at before entering her final resting place.” 

“So what do we think, grave robbers, ghouls, demons?” I asked Sam.

“Not sure, we will have to see after we check the head out.” 

_________________________________________________

Sam went to check out the head while Dean and I looked over the case files.

“You doing ok sweetheart? I know I haven’t really checked in on you lately.” Dean looked at me.

“For the most part yeah, I feel a lot better than I did. I think taking time to get my head on straight helped a lot, plus therapy.” 

“I’m glad to hear it.” Dean smiled at me.

I missed spending time with Dean. But I hadn’t pushed him, I figured he needed a break from me and I understood that. I can be a lot sometimes and he has his own stuff to deal with. It’s not easy being my friend. Plus after everything I realized I probably will never be comfortable enough with myself to be with someone. I’m in love with him and probably will always be. Knowing he’s here but I can’t have him is a hard pill to swallow but I’m working everyday to move past it. I know he deserves better and I know I’m not it. 

“You haven’t heard anything from that douchebag right?” he continued reading over the files. 

“He actually messaged me a few weeks ago from his facebook account. Asked how I was and hoped I was doing better. I ignored it and he kept sending messages, saying he was sorry and he was a dick, blah, blah, blah. I blocked him.” 

“What an asshat, he must have balls the size of Texas to reach out to you after the stunt he pulled.” 

“I guess so, I was upset by it but I’m moving on.” I smiled at him.

“I’m sorry sweetheart, you didn’t deserve that, any of it.”

“It’s ok Dean, I’ve accepted what has happened and I’m moving on. Choosing between a man and a bear, I’d choose the bear.”

“You don’t mean that, you just haven't found the right man yet.”

I scoffed. “Dean… I’m an overweight, loud mouthed, cursing, strong willed woman, who has extreme trust issues. I doubt I will ever find a man who is ok with that, plus I don’t think I want to put myself out there again, who knows what will happen.”

“Just have me greet them with my glock, I’m sure it will go great after that.”

I laughed.

“In all seriousness I hope you do find someone someday Y/N, you deserve the world whether you believe you do or not.”

My heart sank. The only man I want is right in front of me and he will never want me.

“Thanks De.” I got up to pat him on the shoulder.

“Where are you going?” 

“I just need some air.” 

“Y/N I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You didn’t, I just have a lot on my mind and need a break.”

He frowned.

“It’s ok Dean, really.” I gave him a small smile.

Once I was outside and had the door closed I broke down, I can’t keep doing this to myself.

_________________________________________________

Dean’s POV:

I didn’t mean to upset her. I was trying to give her hope. 

It has been five months since I saw Y/N break. I’ve never been so scared in my life seeing her crumble under the weight of the world. I had to step back, let her get her head on straight without me. I don’t want to get used to relying on her to make me feel better. She needs to take care of herself, not me. I missed spending time with her but I knew it was for the best. Plus I know Sam is a better influence. I’m no good for her.

My phone was buzzing.

Sam.

“Hey man.”

“Dean hey, is Y/N with you?”

“Nah, she’s taking a break.”

“Oh, ok. I was going to let you guys know the cops think it’s a serial grave robber, evidently this has happened before. From everything I’ve checked out, I don’t see a relation to a monster. Maybe we should just let the cops handle it?”

I sighed. “Yeah that’s fine, we can stick around for a few days to see if anything happens.” 

“You ok dude?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just worry about her.”

“I know you do, but she’s doing better.”

“I know man, I just feel like I’m losing her. I know I stopped hanging with her but I wanted her to be able to heal without me looming over her.”

“Dean, she probably thinks you need a break from her, you know how she thinks.”

“You’re right Sam, I didn’t think about that. God, I messed up.”

“She’ll be back man and you can talk to her, I’ll go grab us some food before I head back.” 

As Dean was finishing his call with Sam, she sneaked back in.

“She’s here now, talk to you soon.”

“Everything ok?” she asked.

Her eyes were red, she had been crying.

Shit, I’m an asshole.

“Uh yeah, Sam said cops think it’s a serial grave robber, it’s happened before. Told him we could stick around for a few days and see if anything happens. He’s grabbing food, and should be back soon.”

She nodded.

“Y/N I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.” I got up to go towards her.

She backed away.

“It’s ok Dean, I’m just being over sensitive right now.” 

“No you’re not, I shouldn't have brought it up.”

“Dean it’s fine really, let’s just drop it.”

“I don’t want to drop it Y/N, I’ve been awful to you these last few months. I was trying to give you space to heal and it backfired. You think I hate you or can’t stand you. Neither is the case.”

“I understand Dean, I know I can be a lot. It’s ok.”

I raised my voice “But it’s not, I feel like I’m losing you!”

She began to cry. 

“Dean, I was doing fine, great even. Until I realized the biggest part of me was missing you. Sam was great at helping me, sure, but you told me you would stick by my side and you didn’t. I really get it. I’m annoying as hell. Everyone deserves a break. But you know I would do anything for you, hell I have and I know you have done a lot for me. And the fact is, I’m not yours to lose. So stop apologizing, put your big boy pants on, and move on. I’m not going to keep doing this!”

_________________________________________________

Y/N’s POV:

Dean took a step back and sighed.

He can’t keep doing this to me and I can’t keep doing this to myself.

I could tell I upset him.

I rubbed my head and sighed. “Look, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I just don’t need to keep hearing your apologies alright, I get it Dean. You forget I know you better than you know yourself. I’ll be ok, please don’t beat yourself up.”

I moved to hug him. 

He held me in his arms.

Then spoke, “You know I can’t do that sweetheart, beating myself up is my number one hobby.” He laughed.

“Well you need to stop, especially when it comes to me.” I moved back.

“I just need to know it’s going to be ok Y/N, I know I messed up but I will be better. Promise.”

“I know Dean, I know.”

Taglist:

@hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog

@deanspinsterwitchs-readinglist

@pandasrdbest2341

[floweyheadcanons]

Headcannon Time!!! So, Flowey is a jealous boy. He at first hated Martlet, Starlo, and Ceroba for taking Clover from him. He was able to tolerate them for a few hours at most after Clover's death, and about 5 years of just listening to them talk or talking to them for a few minutes. He learned how to play the harmonica for Clover to hear. Clover died 2 days before their birthday...Clover knew they weren't gonna be alive for their 10th birthday...Flowey doesn't do well with the day Clover died or their birthday. He saw how Clover was so calm with dying that he knew something was off, he never asked though and never will. He wants to live in bliss that Clover wasn't dying from the beginning or that Clover chose to die at the first place, because they came down here to save the human souls... Flowey secretly looks up to Sans. Flowey feels the need to give Clover a gift every single birthday for Clover, because they couldn't celebrate it together. Clover told him that he could care less about their birthday...he hates that Clover told him and he wants that thought to leave him alone. He had the most fun in years with Clover that day, it allowed him to feel emotions for the first time in many years...he never felt it again until he saw Clover. He was happy :)

And now the Gusty Gaggle. They were supposed to be named "The Gutsy Gaggle," but they all failed a spelling gutsy, so just went with Gusty. They have some members who join in sometimes, but it's mostly just Flowey, Clover, and Kanako. Clover is the leader, Flowey the brains, Kanako the one to get them out of trouble, when not causing it. They all have matching pins. They reside in the Ghosty South, even though Flowey can stay in Frisk's town, he just won't. They may or may not have thought of starting a band. They will take down Alphys when they see her, Flowey being the one doing most damage.

Now, some questions. Do you think that at the end of UTY, when it said "Someone called for help, you answered the call" that it was during the Asriel fight or Omega Flowey fight? I say that it first happened in Omega fight, but Frisk, under their breath asked for help to SAVE Azzy, so Clover came and saved him. Allowing Frisk to win. With is Flowey's favorite amalgamate? What's his favorite type of music? Will he kill Mettaton of Clover asked him to join them too? Has Clover allowed Flowey to play the harmonica? Does Flowey look up to anyone? What's Flowey favorite plant? Has he ever cared for other fallen humans? Has he and Dalv ever drew together? Does Papyrus know he's Asriel? Will he get therapy? What's his relationship with Axis? Does he pretend to be Dasiy? (Axis's wife, girlfriend, fiancé?) Will he care for Kanako after the barrier is open?

(HERE IS SOME MORE COOKIES FOR YOU FLOWEY!!!! ALSO SOME ICE CREAM AS WELL!!!! YOU DESERVE EVERYTHING IN THIS WORLD!!!!! I GET YOU SOMETHING TO DRINK NEXT ASK!!! WHAT YOH LIKE?!?!? Also, I'm thinking of making a Gusty Gaggle ask blog and would like to use your photo as the pfp or background image, if that's fine with you. I GET MORE SWEETS FOR YOU SOON MY FLOWER FRIEND!!!! ENJOY!!!!)

oh my god the asks are slipping through my fingers... curse you artfight and general procrastination...

YEEAHHHH GET HER GUYS!!!! The Gutsy vs Gusty Gaggle is also a lil funny to me because for a bit I thought you misspelled Gutsy and almost called them the Gutsy Gaggle. Only kept it the Gusty Gaggle cause it also works oddly enough.

1. Do you think that at the end of UTY, when it said "Someone called for help, you answered the call" that it was during the Asriel fight or Omega Flowey fight?

I always assumed the 'You answered the call' was for the Omega Flowey fight. On the topic of who saved Asriel I always thought it was Chara because that made the most sense to me, since it would explain how they had those memories locked and loaded.

2. What is Flowey's favorite amalgamate?

Been a while since I played pacifist route but I think it'd probably be Endogeny since it is a giant dog. He'd probably play fetch with it to keep his throwing skills from declining just in case he needs to throw something really far one day. He also generally finds it entertaining to watch the dog run around.

3. What's his favorite type of music?

Undoubtedly breakcore, he'd go wild if you turned on breakcore.

4. Will he kill Mettaton if Clover asked him to join them too?

I don't think he'd kill Mettaton if he tried to join the Gusty Gaggle, merely decline because he isn't cowboy enough. But... If Mettaton were to hurt anyone in the group, Flowey would react more violently.

5. Has Clover allowed Flowey to play the harmonica?

Clover does allow Flowey to play the harmonica, it's just that sadly he's very bad at it. This can actually be repurposed into an attack funnily enough! He plays the harmonica in the most grating tone he can until you fess up to the murder.

6. Does Flowey look up to anyone?

Don't tell anyone but it's secretly Sans.

7. What's Flowey's favorite plant?

His favorite plant is an echo flower because they're just like him, they're just like him fr!!!!!

8. Has he ever cared for other fallen humans?

Excluding Chara, nope.

9. Have he and Dalv ever drawn together?

I think Flowey secretly draws things and tries to sneak them into Dalv's storybooks. He's trying to see how long he can do this before Dalv notices he did NOT draw those.

10. Does Papyrus know he's Asriel?

Most likely not, as Papyrus isn't close enough to Flowey for him to really want to tell him such an important thing. Maybe he hints every now and again that he wasn't always a flower, but he doesn't tell him that he was Asriel.

11. Will he get therapy?

Flowey is most definitely getting therapy, though I think it would take a while for him to actually trust said therapist and I think he'd have to switch around a bit.

12. Does he pretend to be Daisy?

For the funny, I think he does. He finds it hilarious that Axis fell in love with a pile of junk and even named it.

13. Will he care for Kanako after the barrier is open?

He says 'welcome to the secretly revived children club!!!' when Kanako gets up and agrees to hide her from her mother because he really, really, really hates Ceroba.

[iam93percentstardust]

*insert french laugh* Did someone say to send a prompt? Ahoy! Have no fear for I am here. How about stevetony kiss prompt with the dialogue "i think this is the part where you're supposed to kiss me"? Could Steve be the one to also say it? <3

naferty fren!!! yesss always happy to write steve for you <3

@soliloquent-stark also requested this prompt + "If you win, I'll kiss you" so I rolled y'all into one

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

~

Steve does follow his physical therapy plan religiously, and sure enough, by the time the next season—his final season, as a senior now—rolls around, he’s declared fit to play. And, fuck, does he play. Determined to prove himself even better after his recovery, to prove that Rollins couldn’t get him down, he leads his team to victory after victory and then to the playoffs and now to the championship.

Tony ducks into the locker room before the game, ignoring the good-natured wolf-whistles and catcalls from Steve’s teammates as he picks his way through the equipment littered across the room. It’s been an open secret for ages that Steve was seeing an omega, and after his injury last season, it became an open secret that Steve was specifically seeing Tony because he kept showing up to fuss over him, but none of them would ever turn him in. They have too much respect for their captain and quarterback, and anyway, most of them think the zero fraternization rules are just as ridiculous as they do.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Steve says, beaming at him. “How was your exam?”

Tony makes a face. He hadn’t flown over with the team yesterday, being required to take an exam for one of his courses—something about mechanics, which Steve had listened to all the ranting about, nodding sympathetically since that was about as much as he understood.

“That bad?” Steve asks.

Tony scowls. “No. It was boring. If you’re gonna make a big deal about this exam being the ‘hardest exam of the entire semester’—” he adopts a suitably dramatic tone for the quote—“then it should at least be difficult, right? I overstudied way too much for that thing. I don’t think it took me more than about ten minutes.”

“Maybe that’s just because you’re impressive.”

“Or maybe Dr. Kean’s not nearly as scary as she thinks she is.”

Steve hums. He doesn’t completely agree—no one knows how smart Tony is better than he does after years of listening to Tony telling him about his inventions—but he’s not going to argue the point. He wasn’t there; for all he knows, everyone was done with the exam after ten minutes.

“I’m glad to see you here,” he says instead. “I wasn’t sure you’d make it.”

Tony makes a dismissive gesture. “What’s a little light sprinting through the airport to catch the next flight?”

“And the TSA let you?”

“I told ‘em I was going to support my alpha, and they practically made a hole for me themselves. They’re big Steve Rogers’ fans, you know.”

It’s Steve’s turn to make a face. He doesn’t know how he feels about having fans. No, that’s not true. He knows exactly how he feels, and he doesn’t like it.

Tony laughs, “Yeah, exactly.”

Steve hears the coach starting to round people up for the pregame pep talk and says, “You better get out there. Don’t want you to miss the kickoff.”

“Hmm, yeah, probably,” Tony agrees and starts to walk away, grinning when Steve reels him back in. “What?”

“Don’t you think you’re forgetting something?” Steve asks.

“No?”

That innocent look on his face isn’t fooling Steve one bit. He reminds him, “Kiss for luck?”

Tony thinks about it, then gives him a teasing smile. “Hmm, I’m gonna have to go with no.”

Steve blinks at him. “No?”

“Yeah, no. But if you win, I’ll kiss you then.”

He darts away before Steve can catch him to kiss him himself, cackling like mad as he dodges his hand. Steve watches him go and shakes his head fondly. Well, now that Tony’s laid a challenge on him, guess he’ll have to win.

~

Looking back on it, he’ll be able to remember the game in excruciating detail. He’ll be able to sit down with Tony and watch the highlights and comment on what he was thinking at each moment of the game. Today though, it feels like barely a minute has passed before he’s standing in the winners box, looking at Tony beaming from ear to ear while someone asks him how he feels.

“Amazing,” he says honestly. He almost says something about Tony, but stops himself at the last second. That moment feels too private, too them to share on national television.  He gives another couple of soundbites before the mic moves to Peter, who’d made the winning touchdown in the last second, literally.

“I think I just kind of blacked out when I caught that last ball,” Peter says blankly, still clearly in shock. “I just ran for it. I’m lucky I moved at all.”

Everyone chuckles and then they’re finally allowed down off the stage. Steve makes a beeline straight for Tony, vaguely acknowledging the people who try to talk to him. Tony is waiting for him with a softer, more teasing smile.

“Congratulations, quarterback,” Tony says once he reaches him.

“Thanks,” Steve says, grinning at him. “Now, if I remember correctly, I think this is the part where you’re supposed to kiss me.”

“Oh, is that what part this is?” Tony asks, arching his eyebrows.

“Pretty sure. I did win, after all.”

“Well, if you won,” Tony says exaggeratedly, but grabs ahold of Steve’s jersey and yanks him in. He smiles again, bright and warm and so, so proud, and then leans up and kisses him. And it’s a perfect moment, the best way to cap off the best season Steve has ever had. Steve wraps his arms around him, holding him close, and kisses him and kisses him and kisses him.

[doylldonmagar]

Heyyyy i saw your post about writing your daydream to cope with maladaptive daydreaming. Do you have antimite tips that your therapist gave u ? ( cause therapy is kinda expensive for me right now)

Thanks <3

Hey, thank you for reaching out, I'm genuinely really glad you did. I'm afraid I'm not a great resource for this, honestly. Soon after that post I quit the job that provided therapy, so I don't have much more to offer. But I'll give you all of the things that I remember from therapy in case it can serve you!

(Assuming you're trying to stop disassociating,) look out for triggers. What makes you switch from being present to daydreaming?

When you initially notice you've switched to daydreaming, try to stop. This sounds obvious, but I've had to really keep it in mind, and there's usually a reason you switched to daydreaming (for me its usually anxiety or a lack of stimulation) and going back to reality isn't what your mind wants, so try to have something you are switching to. For instance, when I try to become present again, I usually start describing an object I see, and sometimes I shift to describe everything I'm experiencing, so all of the senses, things I'm seeing, hearing, smelling, feeling. And then once you're in the moment, then you can more easily switch to being actually in the moment as in conversations, etc, not just aware of reality but also a part of it. (Describing objects also helps with anxiety and spiraling, if you struggle with that)

Keeping a record of your daydreams can help if you are replaying a lot or if you have a story you are interested in building.

Setting aside time to daydream can help. It sounds counter intuitive, but if you stop yourself from daydreaming other times and say no I'm gonna daydream at 3 till 3:30, then when that time comes you daydream and then you stop yourself. This can build up self control and can break the urge to daydream whenever.

Trying to keep your mind occupied can help. If you daydream while you fold laundry, then maybe try playing music or a podcast or an audiobook and try to stay focused on it.

Doing yoga, or journaling, or something aimed at practicing awareness (physical, emotional, etc) can really help. Even stuff like spending 5 minutes describing everything I see and hear and feel can really help. A big part of getting away from MADD is just training your mind to be able to focus on the present.

Ultimately, what I've found is that maladaptive daydreaming is really just an addiction. And it's a coping mechanism. If you can find what you're coping with and can find a healthy way to deal with it, or find a way to cut it from your life, both are good options, but neither will necessarily stop the disassociation. If an addiction is narrowing activities you enjoy down to the one thing, then the way to break it is to find more outlets, more things you enjoy. If you have hobbies you don't do anymore, or things you used to be interested in, pursuing those can be good. Finding other things you enjoy doing can be super helpful.

On writing: (I didn't get this from therapy, just personal experience) it might help to write down everything from past daydreams that you remember (I personally would get really caught up in trying to remember all of the things. I had been daydreaming for about 5 years when I started writing, so I was trying to remember a lot. And I did forget a lot.) if you have a timeline, feel free to type it up. I write it down almost every time it comes up. I'll have clips of dialogue running in my head and I'll pull out my phone and type it up. Same goes for if I have a plot idea. I write it down to explore it later during the time I set aside for it. If I'm scared I'll forget it, then it runs over and over in my mind and it takes up time, and I don't want that. If I want to explore it, finish the scene, then I'm committing more time, and I don't want that. So it really helps me to cut it short by writing it down.

I'll add more to this list if I think of anything. Hopefully this helps in some way, feel free to reach out again! I tried to highlight my main ideas, sorry if it's distracting but I thought with so much text, it might be easier to skim.

<3

[elephant-in-the-pride-parade]

20 Fic Writer Quesions

First, thank you @singeart and @mytardisisparked for tagging me!. I did a set of these last year and it was fun to see how my answers have changed since then!

How many works do you have on Ao3?

61

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count?

1.6 million and counting!

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Star Trek Voyager

Star Trek Prodigy

Sailor Moon

Harry Potter

Madam Secretary

Ive debated writing SwanQueen for a long time but by the time I had the energy and time to write, I'd lost interest in the show. I might rewatch and come back to it one day...

I have thought about writing Wynonna Earp or Tamora Pierce universe fanfiction but have yet to get an idea that grabs me. I like to find things i want to fix and it's hard when the source material is perfection.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

The Parent Trap (305)

Sailor Moon H Order of the Phoenix (289)

Sailor Moon H Half Blood Prince (222)

Eden's Deception (167)

Out of Reach (150)

5. Do you respond to comments?

I try to! although if I'm busy or feeling down it can take me a while. Sometimes I forget.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I still think What Even is 3 Minutes takes the cake. Or I'll be Your First if You'll be my Last

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I Heard the Comm on Christmas Morn and Parent Trap

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Unfortunately I've gotten hate on fics since I started writing them... and it's become just something I expect to happen. Sometimes it's funny. Sometimes it confuses me. Sometimes it makes me sad. It really depends...

The memorable haters:

There was the delightful Fanfiction.net reviewer who got pissed i was "making everybody gay" (that was funny actually). I forget if they were the same person who flamed me when Mcgonagall and Hooch kissed under some mistletoe. I digress. They thought queering up the canon was like sinful or whatever. I was delighted to disagree and make the story even queerer.

Another person cussed me out for magically restraining Sailor Plutos time travel powers so my plot would work and for making her have feelings about it. aparently mad the senshi were not all powerful deus exmachinas who never feel feelings... That one stung. That was the reason I left FFN.

Hate because in Sailor Moon H, Harry Potter was not the main character.

Hate that I made a magic bio baby for the magical lesbians. (I can't have a biobaby with my wife irl, can't I at least let the fantasy girlies have one!)

Hate for including C/7 in a story

...I wouldn't call it hate for the fic but I have had an uncomfortable amount of commenters who hate on Chakotay any time I have him involved with Seven / don't have him grovel to Kathryn / really any time I let him advocate for how he's been hurt... at first comments like this stressed me out because i worried i had not written the character sufficiently sympathetic. But then Parent Trap breached containment and I got enough comments to be able to see I had definitely written the character fine... it was just that some people were always just rooting for a "Chakotay falls over himself to apologize to Janeway for not immediately dating her" storyline that... I'm not sorry 😅 I'm never going to write that. The older I get the more I feel like both of J/C just need therapy! They've been through so much trauma. Their feelings are valid (yes, even for other people).

Parent Trap breaching containment also meant that when I hit an irl rut and couldnt get in the writing headspace for a bit, a bunch of - sincerely, well meaning - fans got into their heads to start a commenting campaign to get me to update. I heard about it and panicked (i had bad experiences that year of getting people who only commented "update soon" and those conversely stressed me out and made me not want to write - I love fic writing for the conversations and community... so it made me feel like readers thought i was just a content vending machine). so just the thought of potentially getting an avalanche of guests, well meaning or not, begging me to update made me lock commenting until the fic was done. I wound up deciding after that that since "update soon" requests were becoming a lot more frequent that I'd consider before posting whether getting them would hurt my ability to finish. So most of the time now if I know a fic is going to reach a bigger potential community, I don't start posting it until it's almost done. That has had some upsides! (Im less dependent on positive feedback for motivation now!) and some downsides (no one comments on my fics with their theories anymore) but on a whole, a good decision.

Immediately after finishing Parent Trap I wrote Fever and got this amazing guest comment from someone who said (paraphrasing cuz i'm too busy to go find it) "Youre better than this. how dare you write this filth. J/C are better than this" that one had me laughing for days. But the comment did prompt me to create a second account later when I wrote a tentacle fic. At the time I worried i'd get a ton of similar flame comments from people who were subscribed to my main for other types of fic... but I am even feeling like that's unnecessary now. I write what I write! Yes, some of it is really dirty, weird smut. I'm not sorry.

Currently any time I post a Threshold AU fic an anon drops into my comments section in order to call me "Sick" and "Deranged"... they make me so sad I don't even make a quippy reply. I just delete them. I write that universe for my own wish fulfillment... Someday (soon, hopefully) I'm gonna have kids. And I am going to have to have conversations with them about who their biological dad is. Why they look like one mom and not the other, whether their non bio family love them even if theyre not blood related. I might have a kid who feels different from everyone else because they're queer or they're neurodivergent or they're some new alienating feeling I am totally unprepared for. and I'll need to help them navigate that.. Writing about hybrid salamander kids getting raised in a blended family is FUN. But more importantly... it helps me practice those situations. It comforts me to know that if the characters can figure this out in the AU then I can figure this out in real life! What the hell is sick and deranged about that!?

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I write all sorts of smut. I post the stuff that doesn't totally mortify me once i've gotten out of whatever mood had me writing the smut in the first place.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I have exactly two crossovers to my name: Sailor Delta and Sailor Moon H. I think on the basis of word count alone Sailor Moon H (>500,000) is definitely the craziest.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I consider the unlicensed use of the AO3 archive for ChatGPT and similar LLMs theft. (and there are several court cases pending that are also seeking to address whether it is legally theft as it pertains to published fiction and newspapers). The canon creators of the fandoms I write for aren't allowed to make money by using uncredited ideas pulled from my fanfiction (just like I am not allowed to make money from writing fic with their copyrighted settings and characters) and i continue to be apalled that ChatGPT and other LLMs think they can get away with using others copyrighted ideas without permission. Especially that they can take advantage of people who cant profit off their own work.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? 

No but i would be open to it!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes! Once with @magdalenejaneway, once with @jellybeansarecool and once with @trekflower and all three were fantastic!

Most of what I write for Threshold AU is also increasingly collaborated on a great deal by the AU creators and a few other folks. It's been going for over 2 years now and doing that more and more has enabled us all to drop more references to previous fics and to create a more cohesive body of fic for the AU. in general its just been so fun and fulfilling to make these stories with other people who are as invested in the characters as me and it just fills me with joy. I'm really grateful for you guys.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

On the one hand J/C have inspired over 50 fics, But on the other I have also been loving Sailor Moon and those ships since before I knew what fandom or shipping were. And really the only reason J/C inspire more fic is that all the sailor moon characters got a happy ending.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I never want to give up on a WIP...

but I am in knots about what all to do with Out of Reach.

Out of Reach is a St:Prodigy S1 AU where Chakotay has amnesia and doesn't remember anything from his time on Voyager, all the while he and Kathryn are in a situationship with a baby.

There's two questions I never figured out how to answer: 1. Does he get his memories back. If so, how much and what enables it. and 2: Do he and Kathryn stay together?

On the memories front. saying he never recovers seems unfair to the character. But saying he magically does thanks to 24th century science feels cheap and disrespectful - to the reality of real memory loss and to the plot that built up so much tension around this. Saying he gets back some or more over time is more realistic, but left me uncertain of where exactly to end the story. Tying his retrieval of memories to Kathryn also tied me up in knots. On the one hand they're in love and thats romantic. on the other hand the optics of his recovery totally dependent on one person is icky.

I also found the baby really annoying to have there by the end - I still think he's cuteeee i really do!!! - it's just... he makes the "we should stay together and try to figure this out" answer a bit too convenient 😅. and he complicates Kathryns reluctance to restart their relationship. The more she resists, the more callous she seems (deliberately not trying to patch things up with her kid's father) when i really just want to focus on her fears that Chakotay would be happier without her and that even if they restart their romance, she might lose him again on a future mission. It's ironic because i originally created the baby to ensure she wouldnt just run away from her fears. And now hes contributing to my difficulty ending the fic...

Actually the more I think on it, my real problem is I could write my way out of this, but I cant do it in only one or two chapters and that makes me feel tired. i was sorta hoping to wrap that fic up. 😅🙈

16. What are your writing strengths?

Imagery has always been a strength for me. But i think I'm also getting really good at action scenes too.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Oneshots.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Only if it was information i wanted the reader to understand but not the POV character.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

W.I.T.C.H way back when I was 15.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

Universe to Mend - I even have a few sequel or companion novel ideas to come after it.

This has gone on a while... 😅 - thank you for tagging me and letting me ramble! i'll tag anyone else who wants to answer! have at it.

[wildechild3]

Modern Maurice AU

Part 2: Alec Edition

Alec:

Alec works part time for the Durhams as a groundskeeper so he can afford to go through his trades school (I kind of see him going into construction?) And he absolutely hates every second of working for the Durhams but he bears it because the job pays well enough. 'Only for a few more months' he tells himself every year.

He first saw Maurice during his first summer working for the Durhams. Just like in canon, he was immediately attracted to him and considered making a move.

However, Milly (kind of love the headcanon that him and Milly were friends with benefits ngl) tells him that Clive and Maurice are secretly together and he gives up on the idea. He just continues to admire from afar.

Maurice does not notice him at all.

By his second summer, Alec realizes he hasn't seen Maurice around in a while and asks Milly about him. She tells him they broke up and Alec would be lying if he said he wasn't a little happy.

Unfortunately though, Alec has no way of contacting Maurice so after some initial disappointment he starts to move on with his life.

However - as fate would have it - guess who's face pops up on Grindr? Alec goes back an forth between messaging him for a hot minute before deciding: Fuck it. Let's see what happens.

Maurice responds and Alec nearly has a heart attack. They agree to hookup but not much else.

Except afterwards Maurice does his little 'Do you ever wish you had a friend?' speech.

Alec realizes that Maurice isn't a total snob. Just mostly a snob. And then at the end he asks if he can see Maurice again, and Maurice agrees.

Then Maurice ghosts him for a week and Alec gets a bit (a lot) pissed. When Maurice finally messages him with an apology, Alec is slow to forgive but agrees to give it one more try.

Their second date is when Alec tells Maurice that he used to work for Clive, and Maurice suddenly realizes why Alec seemed so familiar. It's during this date that Maurice explains what happened between him and Clive - and Alec softens a lot now that he understands Maurice's initial hesitation towards him.

They start to see each other more and more. Alec is shocked by how Maurice reacts when he goes to hold the other's hand in public. Maurice stares at their hands and just starts beaming.

They become That CoupleTM who are always hanging off of one another. Their honeymoon phase is awful for anyone who has to be within 5 feet of them because Maurice gets addicted to the affection and Alec is just in awe of how this rich snobby asshole has morphed into his sweet doting boyfriend.

(Hint: Maurice's depression is doing a bit better. He definitely needs therapy though)

Him and Maurice decide to get a flat together - but Maurice wants to come out to his family first.

Alec has been out since secondary school* so he's right there with Maurice every step of the way - even as things went really poorly.

(*his parents are tentatively okay with it. His mother more than his father. And his older brother was just weird about it)

They move in together and Alec is very amused by how much pride Maurice takes in being able to use a crockpot. Though he has come home to the oven smoking a few times.

Alec graduates from trades school and immediately quits working for the Durhams and starts working for a construction company. Maurice decides to go back to school right after.

The day Alec proposes, he literally had no intention to. Him and Maurice had never talked about it. They were sitting out on their balcony, sharing cigarettes and getting drunk on cheap wine. The sun was setting and it was the first warm day of spring and Maurice was laughing at something Alec had said. And Alec just blurts out, "Wanna get married?"

Maurice freezes, then starts to tear up but he's smiling and says 'yes' at least a dozen times. Alec is also in tears but will deny it every time Maurice mentions it.

Neither really wants to plan a big ceremony (Maurice doesn't have any family who'd come anyway) so they settle for telling their friends and remaining family that they're going to the courthouse.

They have the best courthouse wedding ever <3

As mentioned in Maurice's post, the specifics about the kids will be in it's own separate post.

[brwnicons]

bro, i miss you so much🥹 but on your last posts, i decide to send a request and my apologise if i did the wrong way of sending request !!!11!!1! 🫶🏼

😡💔🫂📖 with Stede Bonnet !!11!! anyways have great day/night, sweetie (´ω`) you can do other request or ignore this!!

-🦈

☆ You sent it perfectly, thank you! I'm so sorry for stopping writing so suddenly. I abused too much of my hyperfocus states I grew so tired I couldn't write anything. However this time I'll be taking things easy and healthy! Btw I love sharks!! 🦈💛 ☆

😡💔🫂📖 + Stede Bonnet

1k followers event: Send me 3/4 emojis and a character and I'll try to write something <3

-> Resume: Stede and Reader have a fight and Lucius steps in to solve everything before either of you dumbasses throw yourselves off to the sea because it seems like you two can't be apart for more than 5 minutes. 1.8k words (~7 min)

-> Tags: GN!Reader, First Mate Reader, Stede Bonnet x reader, Blackbeard didn't arrive at the Revenge here, Angst?? It doesn't feel like it, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Lucius should be paid for his therapy service. Talk it through my ass, Mr Bonnet.

-> Warnings: None

Please tell me if you see any mistake!

The atmosphere is uncomfortable and the tension surrounding the galley could be cut with a knife. Nobody talked and everyone would slightly flinch at the sound of cluttering.

The fight you had previously had with captain Stede was heard in every bit of the ship and it had been so strange to see you both shouting at each other that everyone else were left petrified. And now? You were eating with the crew for the first time in months, with a frown on your face and handling the cutlery roughly, as if instead of stabbing some steak you were stabbing Stede.

Lunch went abnormally peacefully and without any argument and when everyone was finished you headed to were Roach was cleaning up the dishes and remains.

—Let me help you— You offered Roach as you took a plate and a sponge and started scrubbing. Roach only shrugged in response and stepped aside to give you more space.

As you were both working in silence, you were able to notice his ocasional side glances on your head and his sometimes hesitating breaths, as if he were deciding whether your situation actually was or was not none of his business. After a couple of minutes he sighed and decided to ask.

— Uh... you OK? That seemed like a pretty much intense argument. We expected you two to take out your swords and all.— He tried to brush it off with a bit of humor and a indifferent pitch but you caught that he wanted something. Maybe it was comforting you (something kind of odd knowing Roach's personality) or he was trying to get fuel for the crew's gossip. Your current mood didn't let you think of his intentions as friendly and so you glared at him and left the dishes in complete silence, leaving through the door right after.

What you didn't know was that a certain scribe had been intently watching the scene.

————

As the day progressed the deck's atmosphere began losing its previous tension and recovered its usually cheerfulness. You grabbed a broom and decided to busy yourself with some sweeping.

— Now, spit it. What the hell happened with you both before?—

You rose your head to meet Lucius' eyes next to you. He was sitting on the deck's stairs with his hands supporting his head.

— It's none of your business, Lucius— you turned to leave when you heard him stand up.

—None of- None of my business?! Dear, you've been nothing like yourself since that fight. You both never even fight!— he approached you and put his hands on your shoulders to make you look at him.

—Remeber when you helped me when Pete and I fought? About all the corny things you told me?— You looked down at the memory of asking Lucius to recall every time he and Pete cuddled or how happy he made him —Let me help you this time—.

You accepted your fate and sat down with him in the stairs, where you hugged him tightly.

— I was just worried about the raids... Last time he got hurt and I was so scared and— You could already feel the tears building up and you hid your face in your hands. You could feel Lucius' hand on your back, doing soothing circles —I don't want to lose him, Luce! He gets so carried away he forgets about taking care of himself!—

— And... That's why you told him you would left and resign as his First Mate if he didn't stop raiding without thinking? —

—Yeah...— You sniffed and wiped off your tears with the back of your hand when you felt a thin object being put on your knee. You accepted the handkerchief with a sad smile and wiped your eyes properly.

Seeing your current state, Lucius abruptly stood up and offered you his hand.

— I'll go talk with him — He had a stern look that said that his opinion couldn't be changed because the decision had been already made.

You sighed in defeat and, accepting his hand, you stood up and shook off your clothes.

— Alright... But don't be too harsh, please—

Lucius smiled at your words and gave you a few pats in the back

— Definetly you're not the same y/n that was trying to stab a piece of meat during lunch — You looked at him tiredly, he hadn't answer your question. — Alright, I promise. I won't be too harsh with him. —

You smiled and he gave you one final hug before walking towards the Captain's cabin.

————

Lucius didn't even bother to knock and bursted open the door to the cabin. Any pirate captain would response to that disrespectful behaviour with the amputation of a finger at least. Instead, captain Bonnet seemed so busy weeping and sobbing in his bed, in a nest made of blankets and cushions, that he didn't hear neither Lucius bursting the door open nor his next approach.

When he was right next to his captain blanket-cocoon and Stede was still unaware of his presence, he cleaned his throat to call for his attention.

— Uh... Captain? I need to talk to you —

Stede gave a visible and violent full body flinch at Lucius' words. He turned his head to the boy next to his bed and quickly tried to act as if he wasn't crying just a second ago, his face still all piffy and red.

— Good lords, Lucius, you startled me! —

He took off the blankets and stood up with a quick jump. — Well, what do you need? I hope it's important, boy! I'm quite busy at this moment —.

Lucius huffed and approached the sofa. He sat on one edge and patted the spot next to him. — I'm here to talk about your fight with your partner. Now, move your ass here because I'm going to set some things clear —. Lucius' tone didn't admit rejection and after hearing a loud gulp from Stede, he had his captain sitting next to him, fidgeting with the edges of his robe.

— What do you mean you want to talk about y/n...? Have you talked to them? — Stede was no longer able to hide his nervousness. Yeah, he had gotten angry because his dear y/n had threatened with leaving if he didn't take care. But, still, he loved them and thinking about them being sad because of the fight made his heart break. He hadn't wanted to get so angry.

— Yes, I've been talking to them — Lucius took a deep breath and interrupted his thoughts. — I can't believe it! — He pointed at his chest — You're the one that always presses the whole "talk it trough" on us but then, you transform into a sad dog after a misunderstanding with your partner! It's ridiculous! —

— Well, I'm aware that I certainly haven't behaved‐ —

— No! — Lucius grabbed one cushion that was laying around on the couch and shoved it into his captain's face — Look! I've got the cushion so it's my turn to talk. Now, listen to me. You have fought with someone who was worrying about your health and well-being, because you're the only one able to lead a raid after having been stabbed in your damn stomach! They take care of you, they worry about you and you get mad at them because of an obvious lie?! —

Stede felt silent. He knew he had made a mistake the moment he saw you running under the ship after that fight. He had felt horribly after and as the coward he was, the only thing he did was sleep. And drink. Both to forget that he hurt you.

Lucius dropped the pillow on Stede's knees and crossed his arms.

— You may speak now –.

— Lucius... — Stede hugged the pillow tightly. His glassy eyes didn't allow him to see Lucius clearly — I'm so sorry we fought- I don't want them to leave! I mean- not because of my mistakes. — Lucius gave a hum of approval as he inquired him to keep going. Stede sighed.

— I love them so much, Lucius. When the possibility of them leaving crossed my mind I got so scared I could only shout at them... I certainly wasn't acting rationally... I let myself get carried by the heat of the moment —

— Keep going — Stede sighed again and decided to maintain his eyes in a loose thread of the pillow instead of holding Lucius hard gaze.

— Neither shouldn't I have been so reckless. We don't need the raids at this moment in time and I understand y/n is as worried as my well-being as I am about theirs. I should have had their feelings into account. —

Lucius grinned in success and clapped excitedly.

— That's good! Yes, sir! Now, how do you feel —

— Miserable —.

— Well, lucky you! I'm sure a certain someone has been happy to hear all this lament of yours — Lucius gave Stede a light punch in his shoulder that Stede answered with a instant "ow". He turned towards the cabin door and waved.

— I know you're there, y/n. You can come out now! —

You peeked out from behind the door and the moment Stede saw you he stood up a headed towards you.

— Oh, dear... — He dropped the cushion at the sight of your glassy eyes, not caring if he was already crying, and took hold of both of your hands.

— I am so sorry, y/n. I mean it. I am so sorry I hurt you. Please, I can't bear being apart from you knowing it was me who hurt you. Please, forgive me. I- —. You cut his spiraling of guilt with a tight embrace.

— Of course I forgive you, you silly —. You pulled apart to take his face in your hands — I shouldn't have said that I would leave. You know I wouldn't, I love you —

— Oh, dear. I love you too —. He hugged you again and you could smell the vanilla scent of his hair.

— Well, then. I'll let you two lovebirds to it. No need to thank me I see! — You heard Lucius' fake offended tone but before either of you could thank him, he dissapeared behind the door.

— He's quite a mediator... —. You giggled at Stede's thoughtful expression and hugged him again.

————

That night you picked out the book for the night reading. You fell asleep quickly, leaned on Stede's side. A soft blanket covered you both and although tiredness didn't allow you to distinguish his words, you could feel the deep rumbling of his chest while he talked.

And next morning, you woke up next to him in the captain's cabin. He had his head on your chest and his arms encircled you. He snored softly as the golden light from the morning sun made his hair glow.

How could you leave?