#i’m spiraling oh my god like i’m actually going insane

[cillixn]

[featherandferns]

daylight - four

jj maybank x fem!reader | part 4 of the daylight series | read part 3 here

content warnings: mentions of sex

word count: 1.6k.

blurb: as JJ drives the two of you back from work, a small slip-up sends you spiralling.

A month into your life in Kildare, you land a job at the Kook Country Club. You’re the summertime photographer. Hired to loiter and snap shots of the guests so they can be posted on their Facebook and used in advertisements. When you told the Pogues (now a firm member of the group), JJ told you that he worked at the same place. Professional busboy, he remarked. He offered to carpool to and from work whenever possible, to save gas and effort. You had hoped your lack of elation didn’t show on your face. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t like JJ. The contrary, actually. Despite spending considerable time with all of the Pogues, long enough to build friendships with each one, you and JJ were the closest. Perhaps it followed the first meeting, knitting you closer together. Or it might be the attraction that still lingers under the surface of your friendship. Since that night at the Chateau, neither of you had brought it up since. Not explicitly, at least. But you knew you liked JJ, and you knew he liked you too. Both of you had been caught stealing glances and flirting was hidden under banter and jokes. It dampened the weight of it: softened the truth. But it was getting harder to keep your feelings at bay. So, to say that you would have to face JJ even more at work didn’t exactly perk you up. 

Not that you’d ever say that to him. So, now you hitch rides with JJ to and from work everyday.

You hitch your tote bag up your shoulder as you make your way to the Twinkie. The memory card is full of photos of sun-kissed snobs, grinning in the sunlight, sipping on overpriced mimosas and martinis. What a way to live. JJ is lent against the side of the van, typing something on his phone. At the sound of your footsteps, he looks over. The background is something cinematic: a sky of swirling purple and blue as day turns to night. 

“Yo! Good to go?”

“Yeah,” you say. You climb into the van. JJ starts the journey home. The silence is filled with gossip and shit-talking about your least favourite co-workers. When that dies down, you say, “thanks for bringing me lunch, by the way.”

“Course. Maggie makes the best biscuits. Had to sneak you one.”  

And it’s things like that which drive you insane. He just had to bring you one, because you were hungry, and you forgot lunch, and he wanted you to try something tasty. It’s not fair. It’s confusing. Your infatuation with him makes you want to dive deeper into the hidden meanings; weaving between the lines to find strands that don't even exist.

About halfway home, the dashboard pings. 

“Shit. We’re low on gas.”

He changes course for the nearest gas station, eventually turning into a Seven Eleven. It glows fluorescent in the soulless streets. JJ turns off the engine after pulling up to a pump. He digs about in his pocket and passes you his card. 

“Go pay for me?” he asks. You take his card and it feels strangely intimate, you doing this. “Oh! And you get a free slurpee so make sure that you claim it!”

“Oh my God,” you mumble with a roll of your eyes, climbing out the van.

You head into the gas station and buy him half a gallon of gas and, sure enough, you get a free slurpee. You mix cherry with blue raspberry. When you return to the van, JJ’s placing the pump back into the hold. He looks at you and grins when you present the slurpee. 

“Sweet.”

He grabs it from you like a nine-year-old helping with errands and takes several gulps through the straw as the two of you settle back in the Twinkie. He passes it back as he starts to drive. You can’t take the quiet so turn on the radio. Whatever new Ariana Grande song has just come out begins to play. JJ makes grabby hands. 

“Lemme have another sip.”

“No, I’m still drinking.”

“Come on!”

“Just a minute,” you laugh, taking another drink.

JJ tries to wrestle it from your hold, keeping a steady, white-knuckled grip on the wheel and his eyes on the road. In the sloppy battle, his hand slips from the condensed cup. It somehow finds place on your chest. Your laughter catches in your throat at the weight of his hand on your breast. The moment his brain catches up, he snatches it away. He clears his throat, both hands now on the wheel. 

“Sorry,” JJ eventually croaks. 

You stare wide eyed at the road ahead. Take an almost comic sip of the drink to calm your burning body. One fucking fleeting touch and you’re alit, like he’s the match to your kerosene. Jesus Christ: you didn’t know you were so touch starved. 

The two of you don’t talk for the rest of the ride. He doesn’t try to take the drink back. Doesn’t have another sip. The van has hardly stopped moving when you dart out, heading to your house with a hurried thanks, bye. It feels like you’ve been holding your breath all the way to your bedroom. The second air gets into your lungs, you know what you need to do. 

Mimsy picks up on the second ring. The time zones have aligned nicely and it’s about six in the evening there, and nine at night for yourself. 

“Sup?”

“Oh my God, Mimsy. You’re not going to believe this,” you blurt. 

“Doubtful,” she snorts. 

“JJ just felt me up.”

The line goes so silent you wonder if the service cut out. When your ear drums are nearly blasted, you know that it hasn’t. 

“What!?”

“Well, kind of,” you clarify. 

“He felt you up!? In what way? Where? When? Why?”

“Just now. Like five minutes ago, in the car.”

“Were you hooking up in the car!?” Mimsy screeches. “Ah! You’re iconic!”

“I was not hooking up in the car!” you loudly reply, before remembering that your parents are both probably home. Clearing your throat, you lower your voice. “It really wasn’t that deep, to be honest.”

“Well, walk me through it. Gimme a play-by-play,” Mimsy says. 

“Well, he was giving me a ride home like usual. You remember me telling you that we work at the same club and stuff?”

“Mhm.”

“So we’re driving, driving, driving and the gas light comes on. We pull up at a seven-eleven, all pretty standard, and he gives me his card, right? To go pay?”

“Wait, he gives you his card?”

“Thank you!” you cheer. “That’s kinda boyfriend-ish, right?”

“Kinda, yeah,” she agrees. “Okay, so, you go in to pay.”

“Well, he also wants a free slurpee so I get us one and I head out and we’re sharing it, and start driving back, and then he tries to grab it off me. And this little play fight starts and bla bla bla and then BAM. Hand on tit.”

Mimsy goes quiet for a second time. “And?”

“Well…That’s it…” you mumble. 

Another quiet. “Girl, please tell me you’re joking.”

“No?”

“I’ve had a lamp post feel me up more than that,” Mimsy says. 

“What kind of lamp posts have you been walking past?” you mumble. 

“Not important, babes,” Mimsy replies. “Look, if you’re horny at this man grazing your tit then just jump his bones. Didn’t he say that he was into you, anyway?”

“He did but that was like a month ago.”

“So what? Men are simple creatures, babes. He liked you then, he likes you now. Probably more, actually, now that he’s really got to know you. Really had to pine and yearn.”

“Don’t feed my delusions,” you grumble, pinching the bridge of your nose. 

“They’re not delusions when you have cold, hard proof that the guy wants to fuck you.”

“God, I love how you don’t hold back,” you sardonically quip. 

“Look, what is this? Why won’t you just sleep with the guy?” Mimsy asks, her tone more genuine. 

Your eyes flick down to the box under your bed. “I don’t know,” you lie.

“Is this because of Tyler?”

“Mimsy–”

“Because you’ve let that scumbag taint enough of your life,” she tells you pointedly. “And here’s a hot surfer bro who’s totally into you, and you’re punishing yourself for a crime you didn’t even commit!”

“It’s not like that,” you reply. Sitting on your bed, you hang your head. “I just…I think Tyler kind of messed me up. I don’t even know why, or how, but everything romantic now makes me feel sick. Hell, I cry every time I get myself off Mimsy because whenever I come, I just remember that last night with him and how fucking confused I was.”

Mimsy’s voice is low and soft. “Shit, babes. Why didn’t you tell me that before?”

“Because I was embarrassed,” you mumble. Tears slip past your eyes and you hurry to wipe them away. “I mean, you know that he never assaulted me. Never laid a hand on me without my permission.”

“And? You’re still allowed to be upset,” Mimsy gently says. 

You groan as more tears fall. “God this is so stupid! I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise. Fuck, I just wish you were still in Vancouver. I’d be over at your house in five minutes and give you a hug,” Mimsy says. 

You give a soggy laugh. “Shit, me too.”

“Look, just take the night, get some rest and really think about this whole JJ thing. If you’re into him and he’s into you, then you two should quick beating around the bush and fuck. In the bush, even.”

“Charming,” you laugh, shaking your head. “But, yeah, I’ll have a think.”

“Okay.”

You wipe your face and smile at the floor. “Thanks, Mimsy. Love you.”

“Love you too,” she returns. “Bye babes.”

“Bye.”

Shutting off your phone, you step out of your uniform and crawl into bed. You spend the hour before drifting off trying to ward off thoughts of JJ and Tyler. It's useless though, because the sleep that you eventually fall into is haunted by them both.

read part five here!

taglist:

@princessuki21 | @psyches-reid | @heybank | @avengersgirllorianna | @rrosiitas | @yourmumstoy | @jjsfavgirl | @void21 | @fictionalcomforts | @gsp420 | @redhead1180 | @wearemadeofstardust0 | @mrs-jjmaybank | @ifilwtmfc | @heybank |

[choccy-milky]

Okay so I read your entire fic in three days and I LOVE IT!? ITS SO GOOD!?! I am supposed to be studying for finals and instead have spent 72 hours definitely not doing that. I originally got into your fic because I saw your drawings from different scenes and OH MY GOD THEYRE AMAZING. The way you draw Seb makes me want to bang my head on the table (in the best way ever)…that boy does things to me. The whole thing is just uGHHH chefs kiss amazing work love it love you amazing

AWW TYY IM GLAD YOU LIKED IT SM (ENOUGH TO BINGE IT AND IGNORE SCHOOL) AND THAT YOU LIKE HOW I DRAW SEB TOO💖💖😍😍😍

LMAOO but fr as a procrastinator and horrible student myself, im pleased with this theme of interfering with ppls schoolwork/thesis/whatever else to read my fic...im dragging yall down with me...just stop using your brain and enjoy sexy seb aha😜 (ILY TOO GOOD LUCK ON UR FINALS)

@jstfndmthngs omg thank you for such a long and in depth ask i hope u dont mind i just screenshotted it and cut it into 2 BAHAHA but THANK YOUU im glad youre enjoying it so far!! 🥹💖AND YESSS BAHAHA IVE ALSO BRAINWASHED YOU TO SEE SEB AND CLORA WHEN YOU SEE A BLONDE + BROWN HAIR COUPLE mission accomplished😈😈 and I LOVE THAT YOU DAYDREAM ABOUT SEB AND CLORA TOO!!! people thinking about your fic/art when theyre not actively reading it is the highest honour fr...😭🙏 AND BAHAHA I REMEMBER THAT COMMENT THREAD ABOUT LEANDER AND HIS LITTLE GARDEN PATCH LMAO and him and seb competing as neighbors/dads over who has the better yard...LMAO im putting in my oneshot that leander lives close by, i might try and find a way to allude to that if i can LMAOO speaking of IM GLAD YOURE LOOKING FORWARD TO THE ONESHOT 💖💖 ive been working on the outline every day the past few days and its 24k words AND THATS JUST THE OUTLINE😭😭LIKE DAWG i was planning on this oneshot to just be short and sweet BAHAHA but i forgot im fluent in yappanese...then i just kept thinking of cute pregnancy moments i wanted to add so it spiralled....BUT ANYWAY I HOPE I CAN FINISH IT SOON!!🙏 also im so impressed you only read 1 chap of my fic a day BAHAHA i admire the self restraint bc i could never...but i feel you with wanting to make things last. LET ME KNOW WHEN YOU CATCH UP!!🥳AND TY AGAIN!!💖💖

omg anon this is diabolical...at first i was imagining it as seb being the one caught in the time loop and going crazy, but i actually think its better if its clora... because the idea of seb watching her slowly spiral into semi-insanity while knowing its bc of some weird time shenanigans and he doesnt know how to help would also make SEB go crazy BAHAHAH. i dont think ill ever write this but i just wanted to tell u i love this idea LOL

aw TYYYYY!!! i’m honoured u think so omg😭🥹💖 you sent this a while ago (before all of the recent family posting ive been doing) BAHAHA so i hope youre enjoying the kid content bc u manifested it girl🥰 and trust me i aint doing work for the fandom, the fandom is doing work for ME!!! by continuing to humour my brainrotted ass😔🙏

"they're my legal parents now" followed by "so anyway can you draw them going down on each other" LMFAOOOOO💀💀💀thank you i love you anon. and i HAVE been wanting to draw this for a while so YES!! i just cant guarantee when...but the day SHALL come rest assured🫡😇

[lightlycareless]

heyyyy:33 love reading your nao x reader headcanons, i am feeling bit angsty and been wondering how would naoya react if something goes wrong during yn's labor. like she starts screaming, trashing around and is in lots of pain.

Hello anon!!! You want angst??? WELL YOU GOT ANGST.

Actually it's not that much, but hey, it's not that nice either so... I hope it's to your enjoyment still!

warnings: pregnancy. going into labor. the fear of a baby dying. bleeding. naoya suffers. 🥺

related work: (sequel) (prequel)

Happy reading!

Something going wrong when Y/N is in labor is hands down, Naoya’s worst nightmare. He might’ve prepared everything so to keep risks to the minimum, and yet, there are moments where that is all he thought about.

That, and the worse version of his fears: the two don’t make it.

He tries his best not to think about it, Ranta also tries his best to distract him as soon as anxiety etches his features. And you…

Well, you wish you could offer a viable solution, disappear so the sight of you doesn’t have him spiraling, yet remain close because he needs you and he’s your husband, for crying out loud! You don’t want to be away from him, not even for a second, while pregnant!

But… everything was proving too hard for you to deal with on your own, and stresses like these could only do harm to your pregnancy, alongside those awful thoughts that would cross your mind in the worst moments possible: the idea that maybe Naoya… maybe he didn’t want a family with you anymore.

However, the love both had for one another, for the mochi growing inside you, alongside the support of your family and friends, these obstacles were soon forgotten, replaced with the excitement of the fast approaching day of delivery, the moment you’ll finally be able to hold your baby, as well as see if they were a boy or a girl—not that it mattered, for they’d be unconditionally loved anyways.

Everything was carefully tended to, starting by ignoring the Zen’in’s insane request of having you deliver the baby at the estate, in less than prepared conditions and away from your family just because they wanted.

Nope, not happening. Instead, he arranged your stay at one of the best hospitals of Tokyo, a whole floor with dedicated personnel to solely attend to you; just to begin with.

Your family was naturally impressed by Naoya’s dedication to once again go to these lengths. And yet, he wasn’t doing anything they wouldn’t have done for you; in fact, they also gave their own suggestions to further ensure your safety!

«Well, at least we know she’ll be ok with Naoya…»

“I’m going to be fine.” You’d tell them, slightly overwhelmed by their worries. “Though I do think Naoya might’ve gone a bit over the top…”

“It’s only necessary.” Naoya interjects. “No one outside of the necessary people will disturb you, everything you need will be tended for, and you’ll also be in presence of your friends and family.”

“Friends…?” You repeat slowly, because at that point you only expected your family to be there, not your trusted staff, who were grinning at the prospect of accompanying you during one of the most important stages of your life! “Oh my god, you’re here!”

“What, thought you’d get rid of us just because you’re having a baby??” Haruko grins.

“I’m offended by how poorly you think of us.” Hitomi teases.

“I—I didn’t expect you guys to be here! I thought you’d be busy or—or something!” You chuckle. “I’m speechless!”

“Don’t be too speechless, we still have to make the most of the city before you’re admitted into the hospital! I personally have never been to Tokyo, so I’m planning on taking all the tours.” Mariya enthusiastically suggests.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, did you forget my wife is very much pregnant?” Naoya frowns, she laughs.

“We’re just joking, Naoya—what kind of godmother would I be if I didn’t care for her?”

And in this precise moment, you genuinely believed it couldn’t get any better than this. Surrounded by the people you loved; nothing could ruin this!

Unless your contractions were to begin a bit earlier than anticipated, followed by a numbing, stinging pain that made you freeze on your track, drop everything on the spot to tightly hold onto your stomach; a feeble attempt to stop whatever it was that had you such mortifying state… rushed to the hospital when blood soaked your garments, your and Naoya’s worst nightmare abruptly becoming real.

Without time to waste, you’re quickly checked into your designated room to be urgently attended by the doctor of his choosing, the supposedly best there is in all of Tokyo—no, Japan—who alongside his entourage began to urgently prepare everything for your procedure, for your symptoms were not expected neither wanted in a pregnancy.

But if that wasn’t anxious enough for your husband, your screams of gut-wrenching pain that only worsened as time went on were enough, were enough to get him spiraling.

“Help her!” Naoya demands, more than ready to rattle the doctor into action if needed.

“We can’t let you in if you’re going to disrupt the patient.” The doctor warns, further fueling your husband’s desperation. He’s just a mere second away from losing himself, just one more word and he’ll—

“Naoya, please, calm down—” Thankfully, your father was there to put a stop to his anger, a genuine sympathetic approach for he’s gone through his fair share of pregnancies—things like these don’t scare him that much, but they still worry him.

How could it not? The probability of losing his daughter, the youngest, his first grandchild too…! And just after loosing his wife as well…

It’s a pain he would never wish upon anyone. Certainly not on his distraught son-in-law….

So, what good is it to hire the best, if they’re not going to do their job?!

Naoya freezes upon hearing another heart-wrenching scream come out of you, heart dropping to his stomach as he hears you demand them to get the baby out, stop your suffering and just—help you!

He doesn’t want to hear more of this, he doesn’t want to see nor hear you suffering so, but he doesn’t know what to do, he doesn’t know how to act nor what to say that could get you out of this awful predicament and back into safety, into the world where you and his child were ok and all this was nothing but an awful nightmare!

But the same moment he was debating what to do, your father already made his decision, walking past him and straight into your room, firmly determined to support his daughter through whatever destiny fate instilled on you—even if it meant death.

A sight that soon snapped Naoya out of his struggle, feeling like an absolute idiot for even hesitating! He’s been through life-or-death situations before, why is he suddenly cowering now, pitying himself?! When you need him the most?!

What poor excuse of a husband he was being; a despicable father compared to yours.

Once snapping out of his dark thought and gathering all of his courage, he steps into your room, heading straight to your side, opposite of your father and takes your hand, letting you hold it as tight as you needed—whatever the sacrifice he had to make to ensure your safety, he’d willingly oblige.

“Nao—Naoya—” you breathed, looking up to him. “It—It hurts!”

“She’s losing too much blood.” A nurse would note. “She’s still not dilated enough.”

“My baby—I don’t want my baby to die” you fret.

“She won’t.” Naoya reassures. “She won’t die, I swear—”

“We’ll have to induce her labor to help her dilate, and if that doesn’t work, then a c-section will have to do.” The doctor explains, hoping to get his permission.

“Anything.” Your husband pleads. “Anything to save my wife, my family, please!”

Because he doesn’t know what he’ll do if he loses you. Life would cease to matter at that point.

But thankfully his prayers were to be heard, and with the quick, highly prepared skills of medical staff, were you freed of all complications, ensuring not only your safety, but that of the baby as well, perfect just as the two envisioned her to be.

“Naoya, our baby.” You’d breathe, face lightening up when the nurse finally placed the small, chubby bundle you’ve been waiting to hold for 9 long months in your arms, holding her softly against your skin as you gushed. “Our baby is—”

“She’s a girl.” The doctor says. “A healthy girl.”

“A girl.” You cry, tears of happiness dampening your cheeks, struggling to believe what was before your eyes. “Naoya, we had a beautiful baby girl!”

There are no words to describe what Naoya feels at this very moment: to the sight of you lovingly holding onto your baby, the highest demonstration of love between the two, after so much suffering.

Though he could start with love at first sight, something he already believed existed, but when his eyes laid on his beautiful baby girl, he was completely sure of it now.

“She has your hair.” You comment on the small patch of black hair on the top of her head.

“And your nose.” He responds, gently poking it.

“Ha! How can you even know so? It looks like a regular nose to me.” You giggle—only to gasp a few seconds after being given the breathtaking sight of your baby slowly opening her eyes for the first time, a revelation that made your heart flutter. “Naoya—she… she has your eyes! Oh, my love, she looks just like you…”

Deep within him, Naoya always hoped the baby would look like you—with your big round eyes, your silky, soft hair, and adorable cheeks he always loved to tease. He thought she’d looked far better with your features than his own anyways, and wished would be that way.

But there was something about seeing you gush about her likeness that struck his heart with adoration, feeling appreciated and fiercely protective of the precious, tiny baby in your arms.

“I don’t mean to interrupt, but I need to know the name of the baby before continuing” Another nurse said, and a wide smile spreads across your lips as you gently poke her cheek, already imagining the agony her father would put her through.

“Naomi.” You say, eyes intently focused on your daughter. “Zen’in Naomi.”

Named after her father, perhaps the only tradition you kept from the Zen’in, because there was nothing else you wanted more than for the world to know of the man that has made you so happy, the love of your life, either through your affection, or Naomi, your new family.

“A granddaughter, I have a granddaughter!!” Your father would proclaim, tears in his eyes as he accepts the baby from your arms, who was now wrapped in a soft pink blanket he got as a gift, with you proudly smiling at his excitement. “Oh, she’s beautiful Y/N!”

“Welcome to the family, little one!” Hinata grins, eager to take her niece into her arms as well, but patient enough to not do so until her turn. “You don’t know how happy we are to finally have you here!”

“Can’t wait to see you grow up and give your parents a run for their money.” Ren teases, you pout.

“My baby is going to be a nice, well-behaved girl.” You respond. “Unlike you guys…”

“Though she will be spoiled.” Naoya promises.

“Well, it can’t be spoiled if it’s what she deserves, right?” you say, he nods along. Your family fears the lengths you’d both go to do so; you and Naoya are already ruthless as it is…

But even then, they genuinely knew they had nothing to worry about—for as long as they were around, nothing bad would befall little Naomi.

As expected, the exhaustion of the past few hours finally caught up to you, at first making you yawn before your eyelids began to grow heavier and heavier; a sight that didn’t go unnoticed for too long, your father gathering everyone around for their departure.

“We’ll be outside if you need us.” Eiichi promises, carefully handing Naomi back to Naoya. “Rest, pumpkin, you deserve it.”

“Thanks, dad…” you yawn. “I feel like I could sleep for years.”

Eiichi chuckles, leaning forward to place a kiss on your forehead before moving onto Naoya, patting his shoulder.

“Congratulations, Naoya. You’ll be a great father.”

Naoya smiles, warmed by the words his father wasn’t there to give him, gladly accepting them in his heart as they promptly make their exit. Once alone, your husband places Naomi into the crib nearby, placing a kiss on her head and eventually making his way to you, to give you a kiss as well.

“You did amazingly, my love.” But as much as you wished to enjoy this moment, the agony of past experiences swiftly makes way to your mind.

“…I was scared, Naoya. So, so afraid that something would happen to me, or worse, our baby.” You tremble.

“I know, I know.” He coos, softly removing some unruly hair strands from your face as tears begin to pool in his eyes. “But it’s over, all that is gone—we have Naomi now.”

“I was afraid of leaving you behind.” You continue. “I… I didn’t want you to face all this by yourself. The thought of you having no one to rely on frightens me like you have no idea. At one point I thought I wouldn’t be able to see you—”

“That was my worst fear too. I loathed even thinking about the possibility of returning home without you.” The moment you notice the tears forming in his eyes, you quickly reach out for him—to the best of your ability anyways, much to his worry. “No, Y/N, you have to rest—”

“Thank you for being by my side.” You murmur, hugging him tightly. He returns the gesture soon after. “I’m so glad to have found someone like you, to be my husband, and now father of my daughter.”

“…What did I do to deserve you?”

“Well, you gave me an adorable baby girl, as of recent!” you sniffle through a giggle, making Naoya chuckle. “From there, all that I ever wanted, really. From food, clothes, even holidays…”

Naoya blushes, proud of his consistent commitment to you and the happiness it provided you. And yet, that was not to be the end of his fluster—not without your following words.

“But most importantly, your love.” You smile. “If anything, I should be wondering what I’ve done to deserve you…”

“Your mere existence is justifying enough for me.” He responds quickly, another tear sliding down his cheek, which you swipe soon after. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You kiss him. “And our new family.”

…

…

…

“I know some mothers feel the desire to have another child as soon as their baby is born, but after what happened, I think it’s best for now if we hold off that idea for a while. Don’t you agree?” You suddenly say.

“Yeah, couldn’t have said it any better. Though something tells me Naomi is going to be quite the handful to begin with…”

“Considering she looks just like you, I’d say you’re right.” you laugh, he rolls his eyes before kissing you once more.

[icyminghao]

asking seventeen what they would do if you became a cockroach — hyung line ver.

pairing: seventeen (hyung line) x gn!reader genre: idk what this is honestly

inspired by going seventeen ep. 79: going vol. 2 #1

maknae line ver.

SEUNGCHEOL

he’ll whine and ask you why you’re asking him such a random question

eventually thinks it over after some convincing from you

would probably not care

“What would you do if I became a cockroach?”

“Baby, it’s 2AM,” Seungcheol drawls, burying his face deeper into the crook of your neck.

You whine. “But this is a life or death question, Cheol, I need to know!”

Seungcheol removes his head from its spot on your neck to narrow his eyes at you sleepily, though you can’t see him. He sighs, snuggling into you.

“I mean, I probably wouldn’t care. It’s you, after all.”

“That’s gross, Cheol.”

JEONGHAN

raises his eyebrow at you in amusement

will give you the goofiest of answers and nothing short of that

you can never take him seriously bc he’s just goofy like that

“What would you do if I became a cockroach?” you ask, looking up at him with your head on his lap.

Jeonghan purses his lips together to pretend he’s thinking over it seriously, when you know for a fact that he’s thinking of the goofiest answer possible (you can see it on his face).

“I’ll probably keep you,” he starts, stroking your hair. “you can sleep beside Doljjongie, and I’ll dress you up and make an Instagram account for you. You’ll be a sensation.”

JOSHUA

the moment you ask that question, you can see the gears turning in his head

he’s been waiting for this

would probably give you an unexpected answer like the insane goofball he is

“What would you do if I became a cockroach?”

A smile makes its way onto Joshua’s face, and you can practically hear his thoughts forming.

“Well, I’d probably add you to my cockroach collection and make all of you fight each other in a ring.” Joshua replies with a shit-eating grin, and you grimace.

“And if I died?”

“You won’t! I’ll get you out before you do. If you do. I’m not underestimating your cockroach fighting skills.”

JUNHUI

would probably laugh about it bc he thought you weren’t being serious

mouth morphs into an “o” once he realises that you are, in fact, very serious

probably thinks this is some kind of boyfriend test so he lies (💀)

“What would you do if I became a cockroach?”

“That’s really funny, y/n, why would you become a cockroach?” Junhui replies, chuckling. You huff at him, pouting, and Junhui sighs.

“Well… I’d probably not treat you any different…?”

“Stop lying, Junhui!”

“I’m sorry babe, I’d probably kill you.”

SOONYOUNG

he loves that you asked him this

would probably start imagining it actually happening and start spiraling into rambles

you’d have to stop him before he gets too excited and actually starts manifesting for it to happen

“What would you do if I became a cockroach?”

Soonyoung’s eyes light up at the question, and you watch as he slowly bursts into a fit of giggles.

“It’ll be soooo cute, baby, I’ll carry you around in my little pouch, and we would go to the zoo, and, oh my god, you could probably go into the tiger enclosure! You could help me say hi-”

“You’re so goofy, Soonie,” you laugh, cutting him off with a peck on the lips. “I guess I’ll have to pray for my life if I actually turn into a cockroach.”

WONWOO

probably takes the question very seriously, much to your amusement

is afraid of offending you with his answer, so he tries to be cautious at first

“What would you do if I became a cockroach?” you ask, staring at the ceiling.

You don’t hear a reply for at least two minutes, so you turn to look at Wonwoo, only to see him pondering on the question like you’d asked him something serious.

“Wonu, why are you taking it so seriously?” you giggle, nudging his shoulder. “Come on, hit me with your best answer.”

“I’d probably keep you,” Wonwoo replies, “maybe find a sorcerer to turn you back.”

“Or…” Wonwoo drawls, a ghost of a smile appearing on his face. “Seol may get to you first.”

JIHOON

would probably question you, but he loves you too much

thinks it over seriously

probably won’t kill you (like in the gose ep ahhhh)

“What would you do if I became a cockroach?”

Jihoon stifles a laugh. “That’s pretty random.”

You nudge him from where you’re seated on the couch, and Jihoon hums.

“I guess I won’t kill you,” he muses, and you smile.

“Though I’d probably ban you from the bed.”

a/n: might delete this when i wake up i’m running on 1am fumes rn i thought it was goofy

taglist (send an ask to be added!): @slytherinshua

masterlist

[casanovawrites]

random sentence prompts   ━ from various tv shows, part 2

this can’t end with us going home.

it’s a broken world, and you’re the only thing that brings it back together.

’til my last breath, i am yours.

you think i trapped you?

i think i hate myself more than i love you.

we’re young. we can still make bad decisions for a few more years.

you’re the one crying in a parking lot.

you wanna die quick? or you wanna die screaming?

oh my god, you can handle one day alone.

i think a little buffer would be good for us.

you said dating me was a lot, but i need you to know that i’m always gonna be me.

you need to decide. do you take me as i am, or not take me at all?

i think i want to find my dad.

the best that i could do was love you.

don’t take this the wrong way, but are you in the middle of a full-on spiral?

you see me, and i see you.

you’re so not fine. you think i can’t see that?

i’m scared. i’m terrified, actually, that you’re gonna break my heart.

if i could go back to the night we first met, i’d do it all over again.

people will remember the last thing you do.

i’m entirely unremarkable. 

you don’t get to shut down whenever it’s convenient. 

it can’t end like this.

i wanted to experience something i didn’t understand.

wow, that is pretty out there…

this is the first time i’ve felt like me again in a long time.

i like you. you’re scary.

i don’t trust any of these other fucks, so let’s watch each other’s backs.

they’re clearly cannibals.

my dad thought he wanted a child, but he lost interest. he doesn’t care about me.

i’m gonna leave you alone now.

i want to stay here. we were supposed to be a family.

we’re finally together now. let’s start fresh. 

i’m really sorry for what’s about to happen to you.

stop talking to me like a stranger and say what you mean.

are those your tattoos? do they have a meaning?

i will never regret you. i would do it all over again, everything. i would suffer all of it a million times.

our lives are like a series of ghost stories.

you and me, i’d do it all over again.

i wear longing like a fucking veil.

tell me what it made you feel.

look at you. it’s much more likely that you’re gonna break my heart.

you look right through me. you don’t even see me.

i want this to work.

you’re blowing it, and it pisses me off.

you sit here and bleed, or you trust me.

i just don’t scare easy, so when i do, i pay attention.

please don’t break up with me because i’m insane.

it was a stupid, drunken, one time kiss. that’s all.

can we take one night off of the horror show that is our lives?

how do you overcome your fear when all you’re really afraid of is you?

this is not gonna end well.

long distance was brutal. 

we’re not supposed to get personal, big boy.

turns out, i love math.

i was gonna text you, but i got in my head about what to say.

we were both horrible to each other at different times. i regret that.

why don’t you just lay down and die, please?

stop agreeing with each other like you’re fighting. it’s weird.

i’d back your hunches any day of the week.

that should be our motto: “who cares?”

we’re probably all gonna die anyway. 

don’t walk away from something before you even know what it is.

i missed you when we stopped talking, and now i’ll miss you forever.

for a while you were my best friend. i’m gonna hold onto that.

sibling rivalry is bloodsport.

i can’t stop thinking about her.

we’ve had a pretty fucked up year.

i warned you. you should have shut the fuck up.

i stand by what i did.

well, welcome to hell, i guess.

i thought to myself, “what if i could be someone different?”

[leslie057]

penbleed;

pairings: jonathan/nancy

rating: light teen (swearing + mild sex references)

word count: 2.4k (chapter 1)

read on ao3

@jancyweeks day 1: history - her diary as a personal history + a bonus history test incident

𝒩𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇 16, 1984

—

𝑀𝓎 𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓈𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝒾𝓈 𝒽𝑜𝓌. Actually, how do you forget an exam? Actually. How did I forget? And it’s not even that I forgot, it’s that I never knew. I am still so mad but not as mad as I was. Genuinely have no clue why we were not given verbal reminders for that history test. That stupid little secret of a test, that fucking sub rosa fucking social experiment of a thing to see who looks at her minuscule writing under the date on the board every day! Just tell us. Need it. Out loud. This is crazy arrogant and borderline disgusting of me to say, but she doesn't have a better student than me and I deserved better. It was like a setup. Of course I was taking notes, of course I was listening, of course a lot of it was prior knowledge. It’s the history of America and I’m not an idiot. I just thought a test would be coming up after the break, not before.

I mean it’s all been worked out now, though. 

But it makes me upset, because where was my head? No, I know where it was, my head was here with me. I was simply using it for its escape function. Wild how my ears can be turned on, and my pen will be going and going and going in perfect time with the lesson, but mentally I’m reliving whatever I want to relive. Or don’t want to relive. I’ve been like this since last year. Stuck inside my skull and cannot climb out. Don’t wanna climb out because sometimes I need to be there, it’s nice in there. Sometimes not nice. I brought this up to Jonathan, he said yes he does understand. Shocker. The difference is he’s been in his head for the last sixteen years, and he doesn’t continually think all the awful things that I think. He’s good and decent and he’s sweet and he’s built a strange, adorable habitat up there for song lyrics and checklists and worries. He does so much in one day. I don’t love his work schedule. Working on Friday nights, God. Then at home he does, like, budgeting and reads their bills and shit? I wouldn’t have time to steep in hate for Mrs. Kincannon, either. (He doesn’t hate her. That’s me.) Not that he’s dealing with his trauma or whatever, our trauma, I don’t know, he isn’t. Still, because his many responsibilities burn up the majority of his mental energy, he doesn’t seem to follow the spirals I follow. At least not when the sun's out. He’s a dramatic pessimist, my dramatic pessimist, oh that was fun to write, but I would assume his internal voice has more of a filter mechanism than mine. Could be a self-preservation thing. 

Who knows. But, yeah, neurogymnastics. Neurogymnastics to get me through my day. Each week is a series of extreme highs and extreme lows, lows that I just administer my fantasies to until something new happens. It’s good in the moment. Later I realize that I’ve missed things, spaced out, fell short, and I get all guilty. I feel hypocritical. I’ve fought for my life, why am I not training myself to live it well again. I’m rushing through things because they’re hard. I want to be successful, and this is not the path to success. The pressure is off me and yet all over me. Maybe I shouldn’t care about school, knowing what I know about the flimsiness of this dimension’s edges. Sounds clinically insane. Not ever going to be sure what to do with the fact that I’ve seen a parallel plane, that I was really there. I wish I didn’t care about school. I do care less about it than I did freshman and sophomore year. My grades are forever important to me, but there’s currently a big disconnect between my habits and my academic goals. When I’m at school, I fantasize about it being over. When I’ve set aside time to work, I can’t get through it and I go to my boyfriend. Maybe I am a bad student. Right now. I am. Hard to care about history since I’ve got a lot I would rather focus on. So, right, there are a lot of coercive acts I could be learning about if my teacher calmed down and gave me free time to coerce him. Sorry. 

I cannot stop thinking about what I was able to 

How he knew about the test is beyond me. He’s missed more days, he’s had more distractions, he’s more susceptible to distractions, and to top everything off he’s on possession watch. You know, just making those frequent check-ins with Will. I don’t know what that would look like. I guess you just ask him how he’s feeling, try to gauge the honesty. I would never ever say this but it seems likely to me that Will is still being…communicated with. Accessed. Scary sounds in his ears or something. Sensations. It’s not like he’d say anything! He’s like this meek little mouse, he could actively be experiencing organ rupture and wouldn’t make a sound. This is terrible, but being at their house does scare me every now and then. In a ticking time bomb sort of way. Is their family not kind of cursed? Then I get kissed and forget where I am anyway, so nothing matters. No complaints overall, it is a very nice place for a slumber party. 

My reaction last night was the most embarrassing. How I went from zero to a hundred that fast, how we went from squeaky bed springs and my proposed hickey competition (hate that this is in writing now, but context needed—also I was in a competitive mood yesterday) (he was not) to me whining and crying and essentially hyperventilating because I didn’t understand why he would mention a test when we didn’t have a test. I hate my emotions being played with and all of that bullshit. For some reason I’ve always been on the receiving end of that haven’t I? With boys in our class. Middle school, junior high, that kind of timeframe. At one point I could have convinced myself I was being flirted with. It’s a no, because “all statements.” All pines are conifers, but not all conifers are pines. So all interested boys will tease, but not all the boys that tease are interested. They really were just that eager to let me know my body wasn’t up to par for our age bracket. Pal, are we not eleven and twelve. I cannot be Catwoman for you.

I’m told I’m pretty now, so I’ll count it as a win. 

Anyway, Jonathan was not playing with my emotions, and we did have a test. We did. When my panic set in, it was bad. The pressure was building up in my chest, I thought I was in danger of dry drowning. My GPA is literally the only thing I ever feel in control of. In my arms were two options, have an absolutely miserable fucking Thursday night or risk baby’s first F on her transcript. But then he just looked at me, calm as ever, and said, “Why can’t you ask for an extension? I want you to ask her for an extension, okay?” Which I should have come up with on my own. I don’t know why, but hearing him say that was like. Insane. Made everything feel lighter, light as a feather. He doesn’t do this for himself, but for me—he zooms out, he figures out a way to make things less daunting. He can be so positive when it's a problem of mine on the table instead of his, and I'm like who are you, I love you. I usually have no problem cheating systems, swinging things in a way that's better for me, but requesting an extension? My pride lies in academics, I'm aware of that, I don’t often ask for help there. Want to accomplish things without accommodations being made for me. Meanwhile, school stuff is some of the only stuff Jonathan is willing to seek out help with. He has to. He can't afford to not get help. Not like he can spend an entire evening on one little section of an assignment when he needs to be clocked in at work for five hours. In conclusion, he talks to our instructors more than our peers. I have to respect a teacher's pet.

So, I took his advice. However tricky extensions may be. Kincannon is also tricky. Her iron will and everything. You’re not gonna get one if you always ask. You’re not gonna get one if you haven’t already established yourself as a trustworthy kid. You’re not gonna get one for being an athlete. I wasn’t convinced of the plan at first since she dress coded my mid-thigh skirt last week and had to tell me, on a few occasions, to stop chatting with/distracting my boyfriend. Him being in the picture was so in my favor, though, because he seriously might be her favorite. Personally I wanna say it’s gross; it makes her feel good about herself to cosset sensitive, troubled teens that she wouldn’t give a shit about otherwise. Like, you’re not his mommy, but I’m way off topic. 

We got up incredibly early this morning. We made her a tiny consolation coffee with cream and cinnamon, pulled up at 6:25 I want to say it was? And the conversation was ace. He had messed up my hair a little to hint at a sleepless night, coached me on how to look pitiful when we were in the car. I really hope I didn’t mishear him mumble something about puppy eyes. He was very tired. I stayed as honest as possible, that’s what he wanted from me. I told her I was having a rough time, that grief keeps getting in my way of things. I talked to her about my selective hearing issue. I said I’m an oral learner, I needed verbal reminders, and I said school means so much to me. Hesitantly I pointed out that Jonathan and I are still getting used to our new relationship, and maybe if our assigned seats were adjacent I wouldn't have to get up to talk to him. She was slightly passive-aggressive, but she was understanding. Then I found out I would be testing Monday. New test, just for me. There was something so ridiculous and fun about sitting in class this morning, reading while everyone else suffered. After, I couldn’t stop apologizing to Jonathan for freaking out. He said I didn’t freak out, I reacted, and he suggested I go easier on myself. That distinction felt huge, really huge. 

Right now, I'm desperate to preserve that feeling of lightness, but I’m mad at myself and furious in general. In hindsight I should have savored being comforted a little more, but I was busy having half a meltdown. I’m sure I’ll get to hear one of those soft pep talks the next time something doesn’t go my way. I have so much studying to do, especially since my Special Nancy Test is all writing. I’ve got it, though. I’m fine. Angry but also happy and fine. This will never happen again. I won’t let it happen again.

—

“Uh oh,” Jonathan suddenly murmurs to himself on her bed. 

She swivels at her small desk, not fully ready to turn her attention away from her entry. “Hmm?”

“Sorry, no, you can keep writing.” 

“But why uh oh?”

There's his gentle huff, his eyes flicking upward in annoyance. He holds a necklace she'd tasked him with untangling using tweezers. Its old, delicate chain was in no less than six billion knots. Somehow he’s the only one in the world who has the patience for this. She sure as hell doesn't have the patience for it. "I'm scared I'm about to break it." 

“Break it? Please don’t Jonathan,” she begs on impulse.

“It’s just really far gone. I’m trying.”

And he is. He’s been sitting quietly for as long as she’s been writing. So—long time. She sort of forgot about him over there. “Sorry, I know, I know you are," she says.

He’s silent. 

“You’ve been cleaning up a lot of my messes lately, huh?”

She flips over her journal, nudges it away from the table’s edge, and approaches him. From her desk she couldn’t see the glow of afternoon sunlight streaming onto her quilt. Very pretty. Her personal jewelry surgeon sits there in the middle, equally pretty, possibly feeling neglected. He’s gone the full nine yards here. Pushed up his sweater sleeves, swiped her reading glasses, set out a few safety pins and needles as his supplementary tools. He looks sleepy, the brown of his eyes lighter in the path of the sun. 

Her arms are behind her back until they’re not, and she crawls on top of him. He absently places the necklace on her flattest throw pillow. 

“I said you’re fixing a lot of my messes.”

“I mean…not really.” He’s blushing already, hands awkwardly grasping for purchase at her hips so that he won't get pressed back too hard into the poles of her bed frame's headboard. “If I am, I don’t mind.”

Her lips cushion against this little spot on his jaw that’s so sensitive it kills him, sucking carefully. The action might have the same effect on her that it does him; her heart jumps, swings wide, threatens to capsize in the wet of her chest. It’s that familiar adrenaline response, the uncontrollable energy spike she always gets alongside the realization of oh, we’re touching! She sighs into his skin, and he shudders, a pathetic sound of bliss escaping his throat.

“Okay, well don't start drooling,” she quips. Kisses his pulse point, spittily.

He mumbles something unintelligible, so she keeps on keeping on, shifting her weight back and forth, trying to make the most of the time they have and get some good play in while she can. She’ll have to kick him out soon. She’ll have to study in complete isolation. She dips back, and he follows, she leans forward, and he pulls her closer. “Said I need an extension,” he manages, repeating what she didn’t catch.

“What?”

“If you’re gonna do all this, I need an extension on my necklace project.”

Well, that is definitely going in the diary. 

[zabala0z]

I am nearing the end of TMA S4 and I am terrified. Hello there! Welcome back to “rando screams over TMA S4” I’m your host and we have uh 7 episodes to talk about!

MAG 150: Cul-de-sac

Nothing I hate more than the suburbs. I remember I theorized before listening that this was The Lonely but throughout it, I was thinking The Spiral was also involved. Then that gave me a thought I should’ve had way earlier: can statements have multiple entities involved?? Like would there really be a downside (for the entities)? I mean you get your fear. It’s just a team effort y’know?

Also yay Melanie! Fight against the power (please don’t die I’m begging you). Although I am still suspicious about her therapist

MAG 151: Big Picture

OH MY GOD OH MY GOD ITS SIMON FAIRCHILD. I was reeling during this guys. I don’t know why all The Vast avatars are so…nice??? Well that’s not the right word. Carefree I suppose? (Also what bet was Simon talking about. Dude.) Im also still very curious about the dynamics between the patrons/avatars. The way they all sabotage each others rituals. The different rivalries. It’s so fun.

MAG 152: A Gravediggers Envy

Man this dude loves dirt. Interesting how he refers to the entity by the actual title without ever being told. Intuition I guess. It was interesting to hear Helen again whose laugh is sounding more and more like Michael’s. Anyways the tunnels are going to be very important later on, aren’t they?

MAG 153: Love Bombing

God I hate cults. Also that clear residue has appeared many other times in The Corruption related statements (MAG 36, MAG 55). Potential connection.

TREVOR AND JULIA 🫶🫶🫶 you guys eat but also like stfu. The way they bounce off each other reminds of Breekon and Hope. Love Daisy but I am worried now. She also growled like an animal. Not figuratively like it actually sounded like a wolf or something

MAG 154: Bloody Mary

God damn it Eric. God. First, no one can ever have a nice life here hug? Second, little Michael mention by Eric (and Emma. Who is Emma? Will she be important?) third, you have to GOUGE out your eyes to quit? What the hell?

Martin and Jon’s talk. God that was basically a declaration of love. I’m going insane. Martin low key psychoanalyzed Jon and it was heart wrenching

MAG 155: Cost of Living

Basira, like I disagree with her on a lot, but man she is so interesting. Also screaming about how she won’t leave because of Daisy oh my god please. Onto the statement; yeah this was a pretty cool avatar. Like, the absolute delusion was the funniest thing ever like god damn.

But MELANIE. Oh my god. I’m like hella impressed by her will power, I guess I wasn’t the one who is trapped in a job and traumatized, but still. I’m worried. Please don’t die girlie, I’ve already lost multiple of my favorite characters

MAG 156: Reflection

I need to know more on Adelard Dekker like I need to know his full backstory. I love how Martin talks to the tape recorders like they’re a pet or something? Does The Eye notice? Or care? Anyways, with every statement, The Extinction rises on my ranking on “how scared would I be if I encountered this TMA entity”

I’m scared for Martin. I don’t know what device it is, maybe a book? I don’t know but

“How does that make you feel?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all”

What if I just *rips out hair and rolls around on the ground* I CANT. MARTIN PLEASE. YOURE MY FAVORITE GUY :(

Okay. Okay. That’s all the episodes.

I have 4 episodes left in season four. I am very worried. I’m going to pray for Martins safety. My next post will be the season four finale so watch out for that!! I really hope everyone will be okay but I know deep down that they won’t. That’s not how this works

[newtonsheffield]

Could we see some jealous Kate in Mile High?

Maybe Siena ends up in their flight once Kate and Anthony are officially together???

Ohhh For a relationship that started off on the grounds of no jealousy: They’re both pretty jealous people.

And Kate really thought she got over it after she and Anthony actually put their cards on the table and said they didn’t want to see other people.

“Okay!”

Kate turned at the sound of her sister bursting through the cockpit door. “Edwina, we’re a little busy.” She gestured to the controls, “You know, preparing to fly the plane.”

Edwina rolled her eyes, “I just… I don’t want you to overreact to this but Siena Rosso is on this flight.”

Kate’s stomach dropped, something prickling down her spine at the thought of Anthony’s ex girlfriend, the only other person he’d been in a committed relationship with. Even if it hadn’t worked out, they’d loved one another once. Were still friends, really. She couldn’t say she wasn’t at least curious about her, what she looked like, how she was, how she and Anthony had been together.

“Right well…” Kate trailed off, “Get out of the way!” Kate hissed, peering round the cockpit door, “Which one is she?”

“Is anyone going to tell me who Siena Rosso is?” Sophie said curiously, joining her and Edwina at peering round the door.

“She’s Anthony’s ex.” Edwina supplied, “They used to hook up until Kate and Anthony got together.”

“Which one is she?” Kate hummed, her stomach churning, but she didn’t need to ask. Not really.

Anthony was stood a few rows down, at the back of first class, laughing at something a woman had said. She was beautiful, her dark hair tossed up effortlessly as she leaned in and said something conspiratorially to Anthony who turned pointing towards the cockpit.

“Fuck.”

Kate slammed the door shut before anyone could notice them peering out the door, trying to quiet the doubtful voice in her head.

You’re such opposites, he’ll never stay with you.

“Well, I wish she wasn’t so pretty.”

“Oh come on,” Sophie tutted, “Anthony loves you.”

“You don’t have anything to worry about.” Edwina agreed.

Kate shook her head, taking a shuddering breath, “It doesn’t matter. It literally doesn’t, we have to work.”

She sat back down and tried to focus on what she had to do. Even so she cleared her throat when she flicked on the intercom. “Good morning Everyone! Captain Kate Sharma from the flight deck, First Officer Sophie Beckett here with me and Welcome Aboard your British Airways flight to Singapore. We’ve an excellent crew on board with you today, at your beck and call for anything you might need. Some of you, not all of you. Anyway, they’re headed up by my loving boyfriend Anthony. It’s true, we’re in a very committed relationship, I’m actually thinking of suggesting that we move in together. Well, I’ve said that now. I’ll be back later to give you another update. Not on whether or not he said yes, just… on the… flight.”

Kate pinched the bridge of her nose as she turned off the intercom, She groaned as Sophie let out a low whistle. “Don’t.”

“Kate,” Sophie guffawed, “That was a train wreck, babe.”

“I know! Don’t you think I know that?! Now not only do I have to look at Anthony’s hot singer ex girlfriend; He’s going to reject me! Right in front of her probably! And then they’ll skip off into the sunset together!”

“Are we spiralling a little?”

“No!”

“So… that was insane.” Edwina hummed pushing the dinner cart in.

“Oh God!” Kate groaned, “Does he not want to even come in here and face me?!”

“He was held up.” Edwina tutted, “Congrats on… moving in together though? Are you getting a cat as well?”

“Anthony and I would clearly be dog people.”

Her anxiety still hadn’t abated at the end of the flight, jealousy and anxiety taking their turns, warring away in her chest. Right up until she opened the cockpit door. And there was Siena Rosso, nudging Anthony’s shoulder gently. Her eyes widened when she took in Kate,

“There’s your girl.”

Anthony turned, looking a little dazed and Kate didn’t know what came over her. She reached forward, grabbing Anthony by the lapels of his jacket and crashed their lips together in a searing kiss.

Anthony looked dazed when she finally nudged him back, his hand in his hair, “Hey, Kate.” He cleared his throat, “Have you met Siena?”

Siena peered around them, “Hi, Kate, so lovely to meet you. Anthony’s told me so much about you.”

“Nice to meet you as well.”

Anthony tucked his arm around Kate’s waist before he cleared his throat, “Well, good luck with your show tonight. Chat soon hey? We’ll all go to dinner.”

“I’d like that.” Siena smiled, “Kate, hilarious announcement, 10/10.”

She winked over her shoulder at them and Kate suddenly felt ridiculous for it, with Anthony’s arm around her waist and his lips on her temple.

“Did you propose we move in together out of jealousy?” Anthony chuckled, but she could see the anxiety warring away behind his eyes.

“Yes, i did it in panic,” She straightened his tie, “But I actually do want us to move in together. So…? What d’you say? Ready to teach me how to do laundry?”

Anthony swallowed, “Yes, but I’m sorry, we need to move into my flat. Yours just…”

Kate scoffed, “Like I’m moving you into my place with all of your systems. I don’t have room.”

[kamiversee]

i'm losing my mind. FTL is for the Gojo girlies fr we're eating GOOD so far.

back in chapter 29 he mentions how he fell in love with our voice first and FTL opens up with the fact that the first thing he noticed about us was our laugh. my fucking heart omfg Kami WHAT.

the amount of references back to chapter 29 is actually insane. Gojo asking her if she even likes parties because he recalls seeing her less and less when he goes to them :(

i'm so curious to see if the mention of Satoru self-projecting is going to be consistent with this sequel. knowing you, it most probably will. omg my heart's gonna hurt i already know it.

the amount of parallels to us and Satoru is crazy. those last two paragraphs really caught my eye when i was rereading. assuming that the "monster" being mentioned is Sukuna, Satoru "never finding out" the reason why Sukuna decided to blackmail him directly relates back to how it felt like we'd never find out the reason why Satoru blackmailed us. omg.

the mention of how we were completely oblivious to how many guys have took an interest/watched us is crazy foreshadowing. the implication of Satoru noticing them and most probably writing them down in his journal, along with the theory of Sukuna somehow getting access to that journal and reading through it, could explain how Sukuna devised that list. AAAAAA KAMIIIIIIIIIII YOU'RE KILLING ME

sorry for the multiple, broken up messages omfg my brain is short circuiting from the anticipation

-☃️

Wanted to condense this message with the other ^.^

ANYWHO, yes yes everything connects very well 🙏 I’m trying my best to answer all plot holes as I go bc god forbid I finish ftl and there’s still unanswered questions (I’ll cry myself to sleep)

Aaand if u read chapter 29 you’ll also notice that the reader implies it was love at first sound instead of sight & now we know that thts almost exactly what it was :)) His curiosity sparked from the laugh & spiraled after that 😉

A lot of references will be made bc I gotta make sure everything makes sense! I want the story to end & everyone understands everything (if not, Im sure you’ll have another breakdown of tfl & ftl put together ^.^)

Oh and if you think Satoru & the reader have parallels, wait til’ you find out who Sukuna parallels to 🌚 (his parallels are a lot more tame tho… I think)

Lastly, the obliviousness was kinda a nod to Gojo’s infatuation in general (im trying not to spoil rn bc we will return to this point soon, trust me) like how he developed a crush & feelings despite never having so much as one convo with the reader!

It’s kind of a lil life lesson too, shows you how in life you’ll never really know if someone’s yearning for you unless they tell you & many people go their entire lives having had crushed on someone without ever telling them ;)

ANYWAY, IM EXCITED. YALL ARE EXCITED. LETSGOOO 🗣️

[hairstevington]

Stranger Therapy - part 2!

Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington

Summary: Based on this text post, Steve and Eddie match on Tinder and decide to go to couple's counseling on a first date to see how long it takes the therapist (Murray) to figure them out. Chapter 1, Link to Ao3

Word Count: 3k again!

Warnings: This one has a moment of actual therapy lmao, nothing TOO serious but Eddie has low self-esteem and Steve is closed off, modern day AU, aged up, brief Robin cameo, Matchmaker Murray.

A/N: OMG I was NOT expecting such a big reaction to part 1!! Here is the much requested part two, and I plan to continue for probably another two or three chapters. Thanks to all who have read so far!! PS I really did look into the counselor code of ethics for this one lmao

“So, how’d it go?” Robin asked once Steve got home. 

He had no idea how to answer that question. 

“It was…” He wandered to the fridge to grab a drink, wondering how much of the experience he should share with Robin. Generally, they told each other everything, but wasn’t therapy usually a private thing? So it wouldn’t be too terribly weird to not tell her, right? “Did you know he went to Hawkins High with us?”

“He did?” she asked, just as confused as Steve had been. “Like, at the same time we were there?”

“Yup. Eddie Munson ring a bell?” Robin thought about the name for a second before her eyes widened. 

“Oh my god! Yes I remember him!” She laughed, then continued once she’d settled down. “Okay, yeah. He’s definitely the kind of person who would want to do the first date fake couple’s counseling thing. He was always a little…outside of the box.”

“Come on,” Steve replied. “You say the meanest shit to me, and the best you can come up with for Eddie is that he’s ‘outside of the box?’ Robin, he’s never even seen the box.” She laughed again.

“Okay, sure,” she agreed. “I’m guessing it didn’t turn out to be a good match?”

Steve hesitated again, because no, that wasn’t it. He wasn’t sure if they were a good match, honestly. He ran through the events of the day in his head, then realized just how batshit insane it all was. And Steve had agreed to it. 

And he didn’t even regret it. 

He imagined telling Robin, and her relentlessly teasing him about it like she always did. This would give her enough ammunition to last a lifetime. It probably would be even worse than the fateful day at the mall when Steve had accidentally ripped his pants while attempting to hit on a girl. Robin had a front row seat for that one, and she still brought it up. 

Steve agreeing to go to therapy with an actual stranger, pretending to date said stranger, and working on actual personal issues together? Yeah, no. Steve was gonna take this shit to the grave.

Except, he wouldn’t, would he? Because he had an accomplice. They also weren’t strangers, not really, but they were still acquaintances, at best. An acquaintance that Steve had intermittently thought about kissing ever since Eddie mentioned it with Dr. Bauman. 

Ohhh, this is bad I think.

“Earth to Steve,” Robin said, interrupting his thought spiral. “Are you going to see him again or not?”

“We’re gonna get coffee next week,” Steve lied. He never lied to Robin, and he felt immediately horrible about it, but he couldn’t tell her, right? 

He almost broke and told her the honest truth, because sitting with the lie was so uncomfortable. Instead, he told himself that if he actually got coffee with Eddie next week, then he wouldn’t be lying. Loophole!

“Oh,” she said, surprised. “I really didn’t expect anything to come from this.”

“Yeah, well he’s -” Steve tried to think of what exactly it was about Eddie that was so enticing. He was hot, obviously. Charismatic. He was able to take Steve off guard, and they rolled with each other’s bullshit pretty smoothly. It was strange how connected he felt to Eddie in the session. Like they really were in tune with each other. Like they were an actual couple. “He’s cool. We had fun.”

“I know you’re not telling me something,” Robin said, eyeing him suspiciously. “But I guess it’s not my business. Plus, confidentiality and all that.”

Unlike Steve, Robin had been to therapy before. She had always told Steve he should go, too, but he never had. 

Until now, of course. But first, he had to cover his bases. 

-

Steve: Do you wanna get coffee before our appointment?

Eddie: Sure, gives us a chance to get our stories straight

Eddie: Hold on let me make the joke before you do

Steve: ?

Eddie: About our stories being gay and not straight!!

Steve: I wasn’t gonna make that lame-ass joke

Eddie: Sure you weren’t

Steve: And if I was, my delivery would have been way better

Eddie: oh shit

Eddie: Steve’s biting back today ;)

Steve: Well I gotta keep up with you, don’t I?

Eddie: Mmm i see how it is. Noon work for coffee?

Steve: I’ll be there

-

Eddie had recently been told by a close friend that he needed to get his shit together. The couple’s counseling wasn’t a whole master plan on Eddie’s part - he really did think it sounded fun, and it was - but the thought of talking out some of his issues was appealing, and he couldn’t stop thinking about it. 

This close friend of Eddie’s - the one who suggested Eddie had an attitude problem and low self-esteem - had mentioned Dr. Bauman a few times in the past. He apparently worked wonders on couples, even the ones who argued all the time. His success rate was remarkable. 

Thinking back on it, maybe Eddie did kind of want to do couple’s counseling with Steve and Dr. Bauman for a reason. 

Like, come on. There was a spark there, right? There was something, at least. Who else would have gone along with Eddie’s crazy this much? Steve understood Eddie, and while he kept calling this whole thing ‘insane,’ it didn’t stop him from agreeing to it. Because there was something there between them. 

But mainly, Eddie just wanted to see a therapist, he didn’t really want to do it alone, and for whatever reason Steve seemed like the right person to be there. 

Okay, yeah. Steve’s right. This is insane. 

-

The cafe down the street from Murray’s office was small and cozy, and had fancy syrups for the coffee that Steve secretly loved. He came here sometimes, under the guise that he was getting a strawberries and cream oat milk latte for Robin, even though literally none of the workers cared. 

“Your usual?” the barista asked when Steve and Eddie got in line. Steve tried not to notice Eddie’s amused expression and the way his eyebrows were raised expectantly, desperate to know what Steve ordered so often the workers had it memorized. 

“Uhhhh…” Steve wasn’t sure why he was blushing. He never cared much about being seen as masculine, and he was literally going to therapy with this guy, so things were about to get a lot more embarrassing than a coffee order. He looked at Eddie. “Don’t judge me, it’s delicious.” Eddie laughed. 

“I don’t give a shit,” he said. “Whatever it is, own it.” Steve turned to the barista.

“Yes, the usual,” he told her. 

“I’ll get the same thing,” Eddie chimed in. Steve felt a flutter of something in his chest, somewhere between anxiety and flattery. 

They got their drinks and sat down. Steve took a sip and tried not to show on his face how happy this stupid beverage made him. It was a simple joy, you know?

“Okay, so you wanted to come up with some kind of game plan, right?” Steve asked as he waited for the caffeine to hit. 

“Yeah, I mean -” Eddie shifted in his seat uncomfortably. What the hell is he nervous about, Steve wondered. “If Murray figures us out now, he’ll drop us. So we have to be a bit more convincing.”

“How are we supposed to be more convincing? Do you want us to start making out on the couch or something?” Steve suggested it as if he wouldn’t be extremely happy to do so. 

“If it comes down to it,” Eddie teased back. Steve blushed once again. He was so much better at flirting than he was being flirted with. “My favorite color is black or red, depending on the day. I still mostly eat canned foods and TV dinners because I never figured out the whole meal prep thing, but it works out fine because my favorite food is mac and cheese. I play a lot of video games and I have a Dungeons and Dragons group. I’m kind of amazing at the guitar -”

“What are you doing?” Steve asked, not getting it. Eddie sighed.

“I’m telling you about myself, what do you think I’m doing?” He shook his head and chuckled. “So you have context, or whatever. So we’re not just making shit up.”

“Oh, okay,” Steve responded. “What about your family?”

“Yeah, we’re not gonna touch that subject with a ten foot pole,” Eddie muttered. “Your turn.”

“Fair enough. Okay, well my favorite color is blue, I guess. I live with my best friend Robin. I…I’m not really good at this.” Steve took another sip of his drink and wondered why he couldn’t come up with more facts about himself. 

“College?” Eddie asked. Steve shook his head. “Me neither. Do you like music?”

“Yeah,” Steve answered. “I took piano lessons for a while and then I taught myself the rest.”

“Impressive,” Eddie noted. “Do we ever play music together?”

“I guess we could,” Steve said with a shrug. It was fun, coming up with a backstory like that. “Aren’t you going to drink your coffee?”

“Oh Jesus, no. It’s got way too much sugar for my taste.”

“Then why did you get one?” Eddie smiled.

“Because now -” Eddie slid his cup across the table until it was directly next to Steve’s. “-you have one for later.” Steve stared down at both cups, perplexed. 

“That is…like, incredibly sweet,” he said.

“Just like that abomination you call coffee,” Eddie replied.

-

After intake, Dr. Murray Bauman examined the counseling code of ethics, and unsurprisingly there was nothing in there saying it was unethical to continue treating a couple who were lying about being a couple. He didn’t have proof they were pretending, of course, but clients lied to therapists all the time. If they showed up for their appointment, Murray was going to counsel them. That was his job. Truly, it would have been unethical not to work with them. 

They did show up, and they were right on time. Immediately, Murray noticed something was different. They were more comfortable with each other, and Steve in particular looked much less terrified. 

“So,” Murray began, “tell me how your week has been.”

“It’s been good,” Eddie answered. “You really helped us out a lot.”

For a fleeting moment, Murray believed him. He thought that maybe his instinct had been wrong, and they actually were a couple, and they’d somehow managed to get over Steve’s affair in a matter of forty minutes. 

But it was only a moment. Murray was a great counselor, but nobody was that good. His suspicions were confirmed when Steve opened his mouth. 

“We actually think our relationship is solid, and we kinda just want to focus on our own individual issues,” he said. 

It was far too polished of a statement for it to have not been planned. Which meant one thing - Steve and Eddie were just looking for individual therapy, and were going at the same time for…emotional support? Cost-effectiveness? 

Murray nodded. This was all a first for him, and he loved uncharted waters. 

“Okay, what would you like to focus on first?” he asked. 

“I’ll go,” Eddie offered. “So, I have this friend that says I have self-esteem issues, but it doesn’t really make sense to me because I feel like I’m pretty confident. Like, I haven’t really mastered how to be a grown-up or anything, and I’m kind of a mess sometimes, but it’s all part of my charm, you know? I’ve always been a little crazy, but I also think I’m awesome, so…” 

“If you think you’re awesome, why does someone else’s opinion matter?” Murray asked. 

“I dunno, aren’t you the one who has the answers?” Eddie asked. “Just skip to the part where you tell me what’s wrong with me.”

“Well, that’s not usually how this works,” Murray began, “but I think I do see what’s going on.”

“Enlighten me,” Eddie said. 

“You just said you were confident but called yourself a mess and a little crazy in the same breath,” Murray replied. “You can exude confidence all you want, but it doesn’t mean you actually believe those things about yourself. Steve, what do you think about this?”

“Uhhh -” Steve looked absolutely unequipped to answer the proposed question. “I think Eddie knows how hot and charming he is, actually. I don’t think it’s bullshit.”

“I didn’t say it was bullshit,” Murray countered, noticing that this time Eddie was the one to blush. “But there is a difference between ego and self-esteem. It’s not just about confidence, it’s about self-respect and worth. Eddie, do you feel valuable?”

“Like, in this relationship?” Eddie asked. 

“No, in this world.” 

This question stopped Eddie dead in his tracks. His face went pale, and he became visibly nervous at the prospect of being so vulnerable. 

“Fuck,” Eddie said at last. “I mean, uh - not really, but it's not personal, I don't think. Just feels like we're all specks of dust on a rock, you know?"

There was another shift in the room, but Murray couldn’t pinpoint exactly what. 

“Can you tell me a bit about how you grew up?” he wondered. Family history was a standard line of questioning in these early sessions. Eddie froze.

“Actually, I really wanna focus on my thing now, if that’s okay,” Steve interrupted. Eddie seemed relieved to pass the torch, so Murray went with it. 

“Of course. What’s going on with you, Steve?”

“Uhh, well, I - um -” he sputtered, his leg bouncing rapidly. “I keep having this nightmare - like, every night - where there’s a monster in my closet. What do you think that means?”

“Well,” Murray said, leaning back in his chair. “Dream psychology isn’t really my specialty -”

“Okay, but I reeeeally wanna talk about it,” Steve persisted. "Like, is the monster a metaphor about my sexuality or is it supposed to be my dad? Help me out here."

While Steve babbled about his obviously made up dream, Murray caught Eddie staring at the man beside him. There was a completely unmistakable twinkle in Eddie's eye that told Murray everything he needed to know. Whether these boys knew it or not, they cared about each other. 

“As you wish,” Murray conceded. They used the rest of their time focusing on much less heavy subjects, and it was pretty clear that was intentional. He understood, though, that it was important not to take these things too fast. Before long, the color returned to Eddie’s face, and the boys were riffing off each other again flawlessly. 

This was getting more and more interesting by the minute. 

-

“Things were intense for a bit in there,” Eddie said as they walked back to the parking lot.

“Yeah,” Steve agreed. “You okay?”

“M’good,” Eddie replied. “Your dream thing. Was that real?”

“Uh, no. I just thought you needed a break.”

“Oh,” he said. “Normally I’d give you a spirited monologue about how you don’t know me and therefore shouldn’t make my decisions for me.”

“What are you gonna say instead?” Steve asked. 

“Well, considering you’re technically paying for this, I don’t really have a leg to stand on,” Eddie chuckled. “And also, as weird as this whole thing is, I’m glad you were in there with me.” He tried to play it off as a lot more casual of a statement than it was. 

Being in therapy together and actually taking it seriously was an incredibly intimate thing. Steve wasn’t sure he could actually be as open as Eddie had been. 

“I think we’re skipping a whole lot of steps, here,” Steve said, attempting to return Eddie’s light tone. 

“Yeah, well I’ve always hated steps,” Eddie replied. “I tend to trip over ‘em.” 

“Right.” Steve chuckled. “So…same time next week?” Eddie flashed a genuine smile and nodded. 

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Oh, but next time - you’re in the hot seat. No fake dreams, I’m talking real shit, okay?”

“Oh, you’re making demands, now?” Steve asked, amused. “What happened to you not having a leg to stand on?”

“Huh,” Eddie responded, pondering this for a moment. He shrugged. “I guess I can fly.” 

Steve had no intention of actually diving into real shit, especially after he’d seen the way Murray dug into Eddie during the session. Steve wasn’t ready to confront anything. He refused to admit there was anything to confront in the first place. But he would go - of course he’d go, because something deep within him told him he’d regret it if he didn’t.

Steve and Eddie weren’t a couple. They weren’t strangers. They weren’t friends. But damn, they were something.

(next chapter)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@escapingthereality @imfinereallyy @raisedbylibrarians @samthemissfit @chaoticvictorianspirit @elizbaehth @despoenaandpyromania @cr0w-culture @bagofgreentea @f1ct1onwh0re @novelnovella @thing-a-ling @bisexualdisastersworld @practicallybegging @soldiers00 @beckkthewreck @fandomz-brainrot @shrimply-a-menace @justanothergirlwithobsessions @freshflowers-and-dryingherbs

@paintballkid711 @abraca-fxckyou @allbimyself26 @jellybabiesforall @allbymyselfexceptformycactus @justaloadofgarbage-blog @alliemunsonsstuff @undreamingscatworld @thefruityfours @hobbitnarwhal @calivanus @wreckmyplans-thatsmyman @antheia @goodolefashionedloverboi @lillemilly @missmagillicuddy @steviesbicrisis @gamerdano @menamesniall @eyeslikewildflowers111 @callmesirkay @stringischeese @eds-trashmouth

[winns-stuff]

LO RANT:

Because why not? I just don’t understand the way that fans think, on one hand we can’t associate or even compare Lore Olympus to the myths because they’ll say “well it’s her retelling she doesn’t have to do things exactly alike” but on the other hand when you’re talking about the story by itself they’ll then try to counter whatever argument against Lore Olympus by saying “this is what they did in the myths!! why are you guys mad at greek mythology??” so which one is it because it’s giving me a headache. I get so tired of seeing the exact same argument from fans it’s so redundant and I mean that in the nicest way possible, I’m sure a lot of you are great people but the things y’all say and do for this comic is insane.

Rachel is adding yet another sex scene and people are rightfully angry. We’re in the climax where the world is basically in an apocalyptic state and the gods are all in danger of having no mortals to worship them and give them any purpose and it’s all because of Persephone, no one is thinking “oh yeah this is the perfect time for intimacy” and if you wanted to give fan service to those who are craving it you should’ve did it in a more calmer setting?? No one is threatening Rachel and telling her that she needs to add these ridiculously high stakes to her comic which prevents her from smoothly writing NSFW of the main couple, she’s literally doing this herself which is one of the reasons why it gets so annoying whenever fans get mad at people for being upset or disappointed. She’s doing this to herself, am I saying harass the woman or cyber bully her? No but that’s not what a lot of these people are doing, in every single webtoon especially one as big as Lore Olympus you’re going to have people who view your content differently or disagree with the way you’ve written things. I’m not trying to encourage the idea of changing your entire story to bend to those people but a large majority of your fandom are starting to have the exact same complaints and it’s clear that your plots are not being fleshed out at all, these people are just asking (no, begging really) for a cohesive story not a masterpiece.

Which brings me to my next point, all of the criticisms and explanations many critics have been sharing are entirely valid. You cannot put a sex scene as a replacement to storytelling, it just never works since it adds virtually nothing to what’s happening. Especially right now when, like I said before, Rachel is starting to spiral the plot into chaos (I’m not being insulting by saying this it’s literally chaos it seems like all of the characters are in trouble) and introducing or welcoming back a lot of intriguing plot stories and characters that many people are excited to see. To make an odd and unnecessary shift to romance in the middle of absolute destruction is crazy, especially when none of it is earned. I’ve said this in my later rants but I’ll say it again because it’s true, the romance between Hades and Persephone has no stakes and it never will it seems since Rachel doesn’t even allow stuff like that to happen. Nothing about their romance keeps you straddled on for the ride or leaves you at the edge of your seat which is why so many people are bored with their dynamic if there even is one to begin with. Slow burns and other romances are all about the payoff that’s what everyone’s here to see, after chapters on chapters of wondering if their love will brave the dangers around them and between them we finally get our question solved with appropriate intimacy.

Lore Olympus as a whole rarely wants to develop actual relationships in real time, it only skips to “the good bits” while completely ignoring the fact that the entire bonding experience between your ships and your fans rely heavily on us actually witnessing their chemistry/bond and being shown why they should be together, not being told by forces outside of the relationship.

All in all the potential sex scene is just terrible timing on Rachel’s part and it should’ve been done while literally nothing was happening to avoid all of the backlash that it’s getting now.

[moonshynecybin]

Ok but post Argentina 2018, and Marc doesn't choose Vale anymore, and he keeps choosing Dovi... and they eventually fuck

valentino saw trap number one… see i know you want me to construct a beautiful dovquez hurt/comfort story here which i do enjoy occasionally like a lil treat bc they are much healthier than rosquez (computer. the way i loved you by tswift. now computer.) but alas my greatest passion is creating situations where hot people get soooo divorced so i’m going to use this to talk about how repressed i think valentino rossi is… and generally i don’t think he’s very repressed at all ! but in regards to marc. oh my god. oh jesus christ. good lord.

like. crucially not in a sex context! i think he is a sex haver to the max no problems there BUT in terms of like. genuine tender feelings. desire to commit and connect. awareness of his trauma and how it relates to his relationship with marc. lol no.

so like. post 2018 marc chooses someone else (DOVI <3) which has NEVER happened before even at their worst and he thinks they fucked (they didn’t marc is in his celibacy era dovi understands and marc cries a lil about it. like maybe they fuck like 8 wins later it takes TIME if they ever do) and vale tries. SO HARD. to convince himself he didn’t want marc anyways and that he’s unbothered but like. he DID expect marc to pick him and when the message did not come through from race direction after podiums and he realizes marc chose someone else, his face does about eight complicated things his youthful impish smile FULLY drops and he starts feel like his stomach wants to eat itself and his heart literally hurts. eminem voice palms are sweaty. knees weak arms are heavy. like you can convince yourself you don’t care but that doesn’t make your body not feel your feelings lol.

anyway he puts up the facade again pretty fast before anyone notices but he is literally fucking nauseous every time marc wins after that 5ever and he tells NOBODY. like the concept of the winners rooms is so delicious for repression and divorce bc it introduces a halfway intimacy where he can break up with marc and still sleep with him without like. addressing that he loves him and craves closeness with him lol. like they broke up but were still so closely intertwined… still counting on that next win… never truly closing the door…and now he doesn’t get that halfway point anymore! he doesn’t get to hold him anymore in any context! marc CHOSE someone else. it’s actually over. which is fine. it’s what he wanted. he doesn’t think about it at all actually. it’s fine. he isn’t thinking about marc and dovi alone together doing things that make marc make noises that used to belong only to him. it’s great. dovi probably doesn’t even know how he likes it. and he just represses that spiral so hard until 2019 when marc wins like TWELVE TIMES and he feels literally insane enough about him hypothetically fucking other people (he is still. not doing that lmao) that he sucks it up and actually talks to him about it lol

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Interventions Part One

Season Two Episode Six

Dr. Spencer Reid x Reader (Aaron Hotchner’s Sister)

Words: 6275

Series Masterlist

Summary: Y/N spirals out of control. Spencer and Aaron recruit the whole team to help. 

Notes: This one is going to be crazy long, but I’m really excited to dive into each relationship the reader has with everyone on the team. I was really planning on making this one part to keep the season nine episodes, but I thought, fuck it. There’s so much to go over in this. I was going to do more with JJ, but since she wouldn’t actually be there, I shortened it, but I think it still conveys the importance of their friendship. Obviously, both of these parts are going to jump scenes a lot, but I hope it’s still clear. 

Warnings: Alcoholism, suicidal thoughts/actions, depression, PTSD, etc. (both of these are going to be pretty intense, so ye have been warned)

-

He carried it with him. The envelope, though thin, it weighed in his pocket every day like a stone pressed against his heart. It was too painfully familiar, the sweeping letters of his name. The note left by Jason Gideon haunted yours, the sting of abandonment fogging Spencer’s mind with more emotions than he knew how to handle. 

It’d been three days since everyone got back from Los Vegas. Three days since he saw you, or even heard from you. The worry was making it hard to work. He had no idea where you were or if you were okay. He didn’t even have it in him to be angry. He just wanted you to come home. 

Of course, the team noticed the youngest member’s change in behavior, but everyone assumed he was still recovering from the case with his father. Only Hotch suspected something else was wrong. 

He hadn’t heard from you either. 

The whole morning, everyone worked in a tense silence, like they were all waiting for a bomb to go off, but they didn’t know when. Emily darted back and forth between her desk and Hotch’s. She feigned a series of questions about cases, but really she was just checking to make sure he was okay. She’d noticed he’d seemed more stressed than usual lately and figured it was because of worrying about you. Of course, everyone was worried about you. Morgan had asked about you more than usual and Emily hadn’t quite figured out why. 

It was around one, right after everyone got back from lunch- whoever decided to leave- that the said bomb hit. 

“Guys,” Prentiss said, eyes glued to the news playing on the television. 

“Pine River Psychiatric Hospital outside Oregon City, Oregon has released a statement today announcing the death of mass murderer, Lydia Y/L/N, the woman responsible for what the press called ‘The Birthday Cake Killings,’” the anchor announced.

 The room went silent. Reid was frozen in his chair and his hands started to shake. Hotch came out of his office and watched with them.

 “Lydia Y/L/N killed six teenage girls at her daughter’s birthday party in the spring of 1998. She pleaded insanity and was sentenced to life in psychiatric care. Y/L/N leaves behind her daughter, the only victim to have survived the murders-”

Hotch muted the television. 

“Oh my god,” Prentiss exclaimed. “Does Y/N know?” 

Hotch nodded. “They would have called her first. She’s Lydia’s only next of kin.” He turned to Reid who hadn’t stopped staring at the TV. “Reid, did you see her this morning? Did she seem-”

“She left me,” Reid said, almost to himself, but loud enough for Morgan to hear. 

“What?” Morgan boomed. “What do you mean, she left you?” 

Reid spoke quietly like a broken man trying to find the pieces. “The night we got back from…” he took a deep breath and finally turned around to find everyone’s anxious gazes burning into him. “From Las Vegas, I found this on her desk.” He pulled the note out of his jacket pocket, looking down at his name in your beautiful handwriting. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Morgan asked. 

“I didn’t think I needed to announce the condition of my love life, and frankly, I wasn’t ready to talk about it,” he fired back. “I figured she would’ve told you,” he added, looking up at Hotch. 

“She didn’t,” Hotch said. A thick, heavy feeling of dread filled his chest like molten metal. 

“Damnit!” Morgan yelled, kicking his chair back. It hit the floor with a deafening crash. 

Rossi came out of his office. “What’s going on?” 

“Y/N’s mom died,” Prentiss answered, still shocked by her partner’s outburst.

“Is Y/N okay? Does she know?” He asked.  

“You don’t understand,” Morgan sighed. He took a moment to calm himself down and let his gaze dart between Hotch and Reid. “Y/N’s drinking again.” 

A tense heaviness sank into everyone in the room. In a blink, Reid had crossed to Morgan, his hands gripping the other agent’s shirt. 

“How long have you known and not told anyone?” Reid snapped. 

Morgan was taken aback. He’d never seen the kid like this before. Reid had never been violent with someone else on the team before, but the fierce anger on his face told Morgan just how serious he was. 

He put his hands on his shoulders slowly, trying to urge his hands away from him. “I only found out when I called her to come to Vegas, okay? I was trying to give her the chance to tell you herself, but I think it’s been going on for a while.” 

“Do you have any idea what this means for her?” Reid said, the anger cracking to reveal his panic. “Do you know how much pain she must be in? And now, her mom is…”

“Reid,” Hotch said sharply. 

Reid let go, but Morgan kept his hands on his arms. 

“We’ll find her.”

The two men looked at each other, a shared guilt between them. Morgan knew, if he’d just told Hotch and Reid about you, they could have stopped you from leaving. 

Spencer berated himself for not noticing the signs. He should have seen it. He should have helped you. 

And now you were gone. 

It was like Fairfax all over again, except now, the only villain they would be facing was the one inside of your head. The demons you’d never shared. 

-

JJ

You didn’t know why you answered the phone. You’d been ignoring calls all day and almost turned it off altogether, but the name that came up stopped you. Maybe you thought it was somehow poetic. 

“Hey JJ.”

“Y/N, hi. I-um-I just heard and I want to see how you’re doing.” 

“You know, I didn’t think Aaron would stoop as low as to use the new mother to babysit.” Your words swam in your head as much as they stumbled out of your mouth. 

“I’m not calling for your brother. I want to make sure you’re doing okay.”

“Oh, I’m doing great. I’m curled up, watching stupid Christmas movies about stupid families with stupid mothers who make stupid dinners for their perfectly stupid kids. I’m having a great morning. You?” 

She paused. “Sweetie, how much have you had to drink?” 

“I don’t know why you guys are making a big deal about this,” you huffed. “It’s not like you were there the first time. You don’t know. Maybe I’ve changed. I’m not the woman you met and trusted into your family. Killing someone does that.” You didn’t mean for the last part to slip out, but the liquor loosened your lips. 

“You’re right. We weren’t there,” she said. “But we’re here now. You have people who care about you, Y/N. We just want to help you.” 

You stared at the tv, absentmindedly watching a mother and daughter decorate Christmas cookies. You imagined them licking the frosting off of the spoons and collapsing in a seizing, gasping heap. Just like you and your mom used to. 

“I need you to do something for me, JJ.” You finally said. 

“Of course. Anything.” 

“You’re the front man. Hell, you’re the first person I met that day. You were so sweet and smiley and wonderful.”

 Your words held no bitterness, but a kind of melancholy. Like you were mourning for a life lost. The life where the two of you were friends, where Spencer smiled at being made godfather of her son, and you could look on with something other than total despair in your chest. You could resume pretending that you were a part of their family. 

“You’re the one that looks through everything and decides what cases to present, right?” 

Her tone tinted with confusion. “Yeah.”

“Tell them I’m not one of your cases.” 

“Y/N, wait-”

You hung up the phone. 

-

“Okay. Thanks JJ,” Reid sighed. He leaned his head back against the hallway wall, taking a break from his pacing. He tried calling you again, but no answer. 

JJ said you didn’t sound good. He felt bad for bringing her into this- she should be relaxing at home with Henry and Will, but he knew that she would have driven to the BAU and yelled at him for not keeping her in the loop. 

He knew JJ saw you as more of a sister than just a friend. She was worried. Everybody was. 

“Was that JJ?” Prentiss asked. “What’d she say?” 

“That Y/N is drinking and she’s afraid it’s going to get worse,” he said. “Y/N told her that she’s changed. She doesn’t think she deserves to be a part of us anymore.” He paused and ran his hand down his face. “Because she killed Sarah Cunningham.” 

“She thinks she’s becoming her mother,” Prentiss nodded mournfully. “And now, she’ll never get the closure of coming to terms with it because her mother died.” 

“Morgan should have said something,” Reid snapped. “He knew. He could have- I don’t know- maybe if we’d known we could have stopped her from leaving.” 

Prentiss crossed her arms. “Come on, Reid. You aren’t really mad at him and you know it. This is about something else.” 

He stared at her for a moment, shoulders sinking, and started pacing again. “I should have seen it. I knew something was off, but I didn’t do anything and now-”

“Woah woah woah,” she said, holding a hand out to stop him. “This is not your fault, okay? Y/N would have been careful. She understands behavior just as well as we do. She would know exactly what to hide from you, from Hotch, from everybody.” 

“But I should have seen through it,” he shook his head, voice cracking from the pressure building in his chest. “I didn’t even go after her. She left me that letter and I assumed it was because of Vegas. I thought I’d become too much for her and she left just like-” 

He stopped himself. He didn’t even know who he meant at this point. So many people had left him already. The thought of losing you… it piled on with the rest until he couldn’t see anything else anymore. 

Prenitss’ face softened. “Spencer…” 

“I don’t know what to do,” he cried. “When I almost lost her before, we had a villain, something to go after. Now,” His hands floundered helplessly at his sides. He needed to do something. “She doesn’t want to be found.” 

Emily took the younger agent in her arms and hid her own heartbroken expression in his shoulder. It felt like the team had lost one of their own and, in a way, she thought maybe they had. But she refused to accept that. 

Emily Prentiss, of all people, knew what it was like to protect the people you love from your past. And as her mind started running with the connections, she let Reid go, keeping a hand on his shoulder. 

“We’re going to find her,” she said. “She’s going to be okay. Y/N’s one tough woman, even if she doesn’t see that right now. We have to help her find herself.” 

He nodded and returned to his pacing while Prentiss formed a plan. 

-

Dave- Six years ago

Your arm hung limply in the sling across your chest and the soreness of every motion only made the red tint of embarrassment on your cheeks grow. 

The man sat across from you in a chair in the corner. He flipped absently through a magazine, gazing up every once in a while. 

“I remember you, you know,” you finally said after the silence became unbearable. “You were at my high school graduation reception. You only stayed, like, two minutes, but I saw you there. You’re David Rossi. I’ve read your books.” 

“I would hope you remembered me,” he scoffed, putting the magazine aside. “Who do you think that generous gift came from?” The man smirked and crossed his arms, eyeing you in a way that reminded you of your brother every time you snuck out. “So… wanna talk about how you got here?” 

“Where’s Aaron?” You asked, avoiding his question. 

“Being processed.” 

You nodded, only snippets of the past few hours recovered in your memory. “Right.” You shifted back against the hospital bed pillow and winced. Hangovers and broken bones definitely didn’t mix. You blew out a breath. “That was stupid.” 

“I’ll say,” Former Agent Rossi said. 

You rolled your eyes. “I meant Aaron. He could get fired for something like that, right?” 

“I doubt he will be. Professor Douche isn’t pressing charges so he can keep this all under wraps. Besides, most people in the bureau would have done the same thing,” he glowered. “I know I would have.” 

“Brian isn’t a bad man. He’s brilliant and he’s helped me through-”

“He’s writing a book, Y/N,” Dave blurted. 

You looked away, the reason you drank pouring back into your memory. You’d found the pages on his desk and downed a few glasses of wine, finished a bottle of vodka, and half a bottle of absinthe, by the time he came back to his house. You screamed at him until you fell down a flight of stairs. 

Dave’s face softened with sympathy. “He was using you for content, sweetheart.” 

“That’s not…” You still couldn’t lift your gaze. “That’s not why I did it.” 

He took a seat on the edge of the bed and for some reason, you welcomed his presence. In your years of building up distrust for everyone, this man- basically a stranger- already felt so familiar. 

“I know,” he said. 

“My uncle drowned himself in a bottle of Jack. I haven’t seen him since I graduated, but it’s still, I don’t know. When you don’t have much family, every member counts, right?” You finally looked up at him and found he was listening intently. “That’s why I went over to Brian- Dr. Calvin’s house. I have a key so I let myself in and found the manuscript on his desk.” You didn’t know why you were telling him all this. Maybe you knew, if Aaron trusted him, then you could too. 

He didn’t say anything for a while, only nodded in understanding. After a while, he finally spoke. “You know, I’ve been through a lot with your brother in the years we worked together.” He paused, making sure you understood the importance of what he was about to say. “When he called me tonight, I'd never heard him so scared. Believe me. The broken nose was deserved.” 

You laughed humorlessly, hating the fact that he was right. When you were loaded into the ambulance, you remembered Brian worrying about how he’d look. He screamed at you for bringing him into your problems. He wasn’t anything like the person you’d fallen in love with. Your brother had just seen that all along. 

“You’re a legend in profiling, right?” You said. 

He raised a brow. “I don’t know if ‘legend’ is the word I would use.” He chuckled. “Why?” 

You turned your head to the window. Your lip quivered as the pieces and fractures of memory kept coming back to you. 

“Why do I do it?” When you looked back at him, tears filled your vision. “I mean, I saw what it did to Uncle Robbie. I’ve seen it since I was a kid and I let it happen to me anyway. I welcomed it. Why?” 

“There’s a lot of reasons people turn to alcohol and drugs, especially after going through something like you did,” he said. “It makes sense that maybe you saw a kind of relief your uncle got from it so you tried to find it for yourself.” 

“Is there something wrong with me, Mr. Rossi?” You cried. “For the past four years, I’ve been trying to figure it out. I tried to drink it away, but it just made things worse. I don’t know what to do.”

He put a hand on top of yours. “There’s nothing wrong with you, Y/N. You survived something nobody should ever have to go through. Your entire life changed. Hell, you found out there was another half to your family you didn’t even know about. And you still graduated top of your class. You’ve pushed yourself so hard to prove to yourself that you aren’t that girl anymore that you split yourself in two.” 

You closed your eyes, the tears finally spilling out. You never realized it before. All this time, you’ve spent studying to figure out why your mom did what she did that you never thought to turn what you’d learned on yourself. You were overcompensating in one side of your life and crashing in the other. 

Dave held your hand a little tighter. “It’s time to become whole again.”

-

Although he didn’t show it, Aaron felt sick. The panic had knotted his insides and clouded his head with images of his little sister lying on a motel floor somewhere, choking on your own bile or with a gun in your hand. 

He hated himself for not realizing sooner. He knew the signs. He’d spent two years with you getting through your addiction. The overcompensating and avoidance made sense now. You knew, of all of the people in this office, he’d see through it and he failed. 

“She’ll be okay,” Rossi said from his seat in the corner. “She was before. She’ll find a way back.” 

Hotch shook his head. “This time is different. When Robbie died, she lost a connection to her past self. She mourned the person she used to be, but she came out of it. Now, she lost any amount of closure she could have gotten,” he sighed. “She never went and saw her, you know. Not since the trial. She said she always meant to, to understand, but she could never bring herself to do it. Now, she can’t.” 

“And with what happened in Fairfax…” Rossi blew out a breath. “She thinks there’s nothing now to stop her from becoming like Lydia.” 

“Without her mother as a tether, she thinks there’s nothing stopping her from losing herself entirely. It’s why she left Reid, why she’s been avoiding me,” Hotch said, a tone of helplessness making his voice darken. “She’s protecting us from what she thinks she’s inevitably becoming.” 

Rossi nodded and stood. He walked to the Unit Chief’s desk and put a hand on the edge. “It’s up to us to remind her that’s not what she is. And then we’ll bring her home.” 

A quiet knock at the door interrupted their thoughts. Morgan stood, tension evident in the stiff way he held his shoulders. Like the springs inside of him were waiting to break. Hotch dismissed Rossi with a nod. 

The older agent left and closed the door behind him. 

Morgan shifted uncomfortably. “Garcia tried tracking Y/N’s phone, but she’s got it blocked off somehow.”

“I helped her do that,” Hotch sighed, running a hand down his face. “I didn’t want her to have to worry about fans or copycats trying to get to her. You know what the press was like.”

“Arnold Owens was a real piece of work,” Morgan nodded. “I can’t imagine what that was like for her.” 

“It wasn’t easy, but she was always a tough kid.” The other agent made for the door, but Hotch stopped him. “Have a seat.” 

Morgan clenched his jaw, took a deep breath, and took the chair across from Hotch, the deep sense of dread now mixing with his guilt. 

Hotch centered his gaze on Morgan, the seriousness of his expression softened by the sincerity in his eyes. 

“I don’t blame you for what happened in Fairfax,” Hotch said. 

Of the things Derek was expecting, that was not on the list. He just sat there, blinking for a moment. “I didn’t think that you…” There wasn’t any point in lying, so his voice trailed off. 

“I don’t blame you, Morgan. Owens was the more pressing threat. You couldn't have known the Cunninghams were waiting for her. It wasn’t your fault. Nobody thinks that, including Y/N. I know how you’ve carried it with you. I know you think that’s the reason I’ve been so hard on you and I need you to know, now, that it isn’t.” 

Morgan looked at his hands, clasped in his lap. “I know I should have said something about her drinking, and I’m sorry I didn’t.”

“She asked you not to and you trusted that she would make the decision on her own to seek help. And she might have, had her mother not passed away. That isn’t your fault either.” Hotch leaned forward on his desk. 

The average person may not have noticed the change in his face, the slight hint to just how worried he really was, but Morgan did.

 “I’m telling you this because I need you to have a clear head for all of this,” Hotch said. “I’m afraid you and Prentiss are the only ones who can. You saw what it’s already doing to Reid and I…” He swallowed. “I’ve seen what she’s been through before and I’m afraid this time is only going to be worse. If we all close in on her, I don’t know what she’ll do.” 

Morgan stood with new determination. “I’ll have Garcia work a new angle.” 

“I’ll be right out,” Hotch said. “I need to call Haley in case Y/N said anything to her.” 

“Wherever Y/N is, Hotch, I’m not gonna rest until I bring her back and get her help.” Morgan opened the door and stepped back out to the bullpen, finding Reid still pacing in the hall and Prentiss’ chair empty.

-

Emily

The Christmas movies continued as you downed another glass. You fell back on the bed, staring at the ceiling while your hand reached for underneath the pillow. You stopped halfway, rolling your head to the side and switching your focus to the fabric on the chair. 

Somehow, your legs managed to bring you to the chair and your fingers latch onto the scarf. The soft, purple material made you feel more than you want it to. The guilt. The loneliness. The wish to have him here now like nothing happened. But that was selfish. 

Your mind traveled back to what laid underneath your pillow. 

A soft knock at the door brought you back. 

You groaned quietly and sat back down on the bed, hoping they’d just go away. The manager had checked up on you a couple of times just to make sure you paid, so it was probably just him again, even though you’d paid out for the next few days. 

“Y/N, it’s me.” 

Emily? 

“Crap,” you muttered, but the word itself hardly formed on your lips. Maybe if you were quiet enough, she’d go away. 

“Come on, I know it’s you. Open the door,” Emily boomed. She knocked again, this time louder. It made your head pound. 

“Okay, okay, I’m coming,” you winced. You made your way to the door, tripping slightly on the chair leg. You kept the chain locked and cracked the door open. “Hey Emily.”

She grimaced and put a hand down her nose. “God, you look like hell.” 

“What’re you doing here?” You slurred through the words and swayed on your feet. 

“Can I come in?” 

“I don’t think that’s-” The turning in your stomach cut you off. You slammed the door shut and unlatched the chain. 

“Okay, this is how we’re doing this,” Emily sighed, hurrying after you, hearing the sounds of you vomiting in the bathroom. 

She sat beside you and held your hair as if you were college girls at a party. The hand on your back soothed your sickness until you were able to sit up again. 

“I never had a big sister,” you muttered through your haze. 

Emily didn’t say anything. It broke her heart to see the strong woman she’d come to know reduced to a scared girl on the floor of a sleazy motel bathroom. She could see in your eyes, behind the drunken trance, the despair you were trying to forget. Wrapped around your hand, a long purple scarf was carefully kept off of the floor and in your lap. Even intoxicated, you seemed to protect it. 

“Isn’t it stupid?” You said, noticing her eyes on the scarf. “I stole it. His favorite scarf. I just wanted something I could hold, you know? He’s probably looking for it. Will you give it back to him?” You held it out to her with sad eyes and pouting lips. 

She lifted you off the floor. “No.”

“Why not?” 

“Because you are going to give it to him yourself,” she said. “After we sober you up, so come on.” 

“But I don’t want-”

She pushed you into the shower and turned on the stream of freezing water, ignoring your squeals of protest, only now taking the scarf from your hand. You stood in the spray of icy cold and could feel. 

You got out of the shower and were sick again. After that, Emily decided you seemed conscious enough and took you back into the room, helping you change out of your soaked clothes and forcing a glass of water down your throat. The water was followed by coffee and you switched back and forth between the two. It must have been an hour of just that. No questions. No words. Just water and coffee. 

“Why are you here?” You finally asked, pulling the blanket around your shoulders tighter.

“You’ve got a lot of worried people back home. You know that.” Emily thought back to Reid’s trance over the past few days, his terror as he paced. She handed you the scarf. 

You sniffed. “He hates me now, doesn’t he?” You abandoned him with nothing more than a note- just like his dad, just like Gideon. You didn’t even have the decency to say goodbye. At the time, you just hoped he’d never have to see you again. 

“He misses you.” 

You closed your eyes, rubbing the fabric back and forth in your hands, as if you could conjure his comfort. When you opened them again, you were still just in the motel room, sitting across from Emily’s pitying eyes. 

You blew out a long breath. “How did you even know how to find me?” 

Her expression darkened and she looked down for a moment before returning to your gaze. “Because I’d do the same thing.” This was the part she was afraid of, but she swallowed and kept a straight face. “Now… where is it?” 

You froze, fingers tightening around the scarf. You could deny it. You could say you didn’t know what she meant. But what was the point? 

Emily held out her hand. You leaned back, reached underneath the pillow, and pulled out the gun. She took it slowly, as if reaching too fast would scare you into shooting it. With one hand, she tucked it into her waistband behind her, and with the other she reached for yours. 

“I need to know- I’m not going to be upset with you- but,” she sighed, “did you come here to use this?” Her voice was filled with such sincerity, such concern, you knew you couldn’t lie. 

“I don’t know,” your words were surprisingly steady. “I just wanted to protect everyone.”

She nodded, understanding. “From you?” 

You didn’t say anything. You just turned your head to the window. She continued. 

“Y/N, I know what it’s like to be afraid of becoming just like your parents. Hell, half of the people in your life know what that’s like.” 

You scoffed. “It’s not the same thing.” 

“You’re right, it isn’t,” she said. “But I also know what it’s like to be so terrified of a part of yourself that you’d do anything to keep it hidden. You’d do anything to protect the people you love from the ugly, brokenness you feel.” She squeezed your hand a little tighter. “But all you’re going to do is hurt them.” 

Her words sunk into you like teeth, but the wall around your heart wouldn’t let them completely in. There was still that fear, the sense of inevitability that even her honest eyes couldn’t chase away. But it did make you realize something. You may not have had the strength, but you still needed a failsafe. Just in case she was wrong. 

You wiped the corner of your lip with the back of your hand. 

“I need you to call someone for me.” 

-

The office was buzzing with effort in trying to locate you. Everyone was working even harder since Prentiss just up and disappeared. 

“We know she must have gone to Fairfax,” Reid exclaimed. “Why can’t we just go find her?”

“This is all about protecting us from who she thinks she has become,” Hotch sighed. “If we charge after her, I’m afraid what measures she’d take to keep from ‘hurting’ us.” 

Reid stopped his furious scribbling on the map of the city. He turned to Hotch, wide eyed and terrified. “You don’t think she’d…”

“I think, if she’s pushed herself this close to the edge, then she’ll do anything if she believes it means not dragging us down with her.” 

Spencer let the marker fall to his side and leaned hopelessly back against the table. Statistics unmercifully filled his head. Connections between PTSD and suicide, alcholism and every other dark thought his stupid logical brain could conjure. He should have seen the signs if you had gotten this bad.

“She’s spent her whole life learning how to mask herself, Reid,” Hotch said, as if reading his mind. The older agent was thinking the same thing. He should have known you were avoiding him for a reason. 

“Guys,” Morgan rushed through the doorway, phone in his hand. “Prentiss found her.” He put the phone back to his ear and listened, expression contorting with confusion. “What are you talking about? Just bring her back.” 

Reid opened his mouth, but Morgan held up a hand to stop him. 

“Alright, alright. Text me the place and I’ll meet you there.” 

The shift in his tone made Reid and Hotch stop breathing. Hotch was the first to speak. 

“What’s wrong?” 

Morgan’s head tilted, bewildered. “Prentiss found her. Sobered her up as best she could. But she wants me to pick her up.” 

“What are we waiting for?” Reid exclaimed. “Let’s go.”

“Just me,” Morgan said. “Y/N said it’s important.” He shrugged and looked to Hotch for approval. 

Hotch nodded. “Go.”

Reid whipped his head around. “We aren’t going with him?” 

“If that’s what brings her back,” he sighed. “Yes.” 

- 

Derek

He spent the entire drive trying to wrap his head around it. Why him? Did you still think he was the only one who knew about the drinking? Why wouldn’t you want to see your brother? Or Reid, for that matter? Sure, there was a reason you left him, but of everyone in the BAU, why would you need him to come and get you. 

Derek pulled into the parking lot of the motel Prentiss sent him and spotted both of your cars in front of the room. Prentiss stood outside the door with a duffle bag and a grave expression. 

“Hey,” he greeted, getting out of his car. “What the hell is going on?” 

Prentiss shrugged. “She told me she wanted you to take her back so she could talk to you about something. She wouldn’t tell me what.” She turned to the office where you were checking out. “I’m just relieved she agreed to come back at all.” 

He blew out a long breath. “That bad, huh?” 

“I counted four empty bottles in that room,” she nodded. “And I found this.” Prentiss glanced around before pulling the gun out from her waistband. 

Derek looked down. 

“Do you think she was going to do it?” 

“Honestly…” She sighed. “I don’t think she’d see it as enough. She thinks she deserves this. Deserves being alone and miserable. She’s convinced herself that there isn’t a way out.” 

“Then why did she agree to come back at all?” He mused. 

You finished paying and walked back to where the two agents waited for you, Derek’s hard, worried face staring you down. You straightened your shoulders, determined. He was the only one that could do it. 

“Are we ready?” You asked, picking your duffle bag off of the ground. 

“I guess I’ll just meet you guys back in Quantico.” Emily said, gaze darting between the two of you. 

“Quantico?” You crossed your arms over your chest. “Why would I be going to Quantico?” 

“Because you called me to take you back and that’s where we’re going,” Derek said. 

You made no further argument and got in the car. 

The drive started in tense silence. You didn’t say a word, partially because every motion of the vehicle was making your head sway. You should have taken Emily up on her aspirin offer. 

“So are we gonna spend the next forty minutes in silence, or what?” He chided. 

“Why are you talking so loud?” You groaned, leaning your head against the cool window. 

“God, you’re really out of it still, aren’t you?” 

“I’m fine.” 

“Sweetheart, you just spent the last four days on a bender, scaring the hell out of everyone, and breaking Reid’s heart in the process, so fine is not exactly the word I would choose.” 

“This was a bad idea,” you muttered to yourself. Your head’s pounding increased. 

“You wanted me, you’ve got me, but I’m not gonna just drive you back so you can disappear again.” 

You put a hand to your forehead. “Please stop talking.”

“Why did you need me anyway? Do you have any idea what this has been doing to Reid-”

“Pull over.” 

“What?”

“Pull over, damnit.” The ferocity of your tone was all he needed and he quickly got to the side of the road in time for you to be sick again. 

Derek stopped the car and got out, walking around to the other side where you were crouched by the passenger door, hands on your knees to hold yourself up. 

“Great,” he exhaled, crossing his arms. 

“Yeah, well, alcohol poisoning’s a bitch, Derek. I would know.” You stood back up, almost laughing at the ridiculousness of it. Here you were, standing on the side of the road in a puddle of sick, with Derek Morgan’s famous big-brother-protective, but frustrated, gaze locked on you. 

The two of you stood there for a long time. It was just like the police station. His tough-love approach was familiar, almost comforting. It had to be him. 

He seemed to understand the shift in your gaze. “Why did you call me, Y/N?” He stepped towards you. 

“Because they love me too much,” you sighed, coming away from the car and the now soaked earth. 

“What?” 

“You’re the only one who will do it,” you said. “Because they love me too much.” 

 His eyes narrowed, trying to figure out what you meant. They widened again when he understood. “No.” 

“You’re the only one-”

“You can’t actually be serious,” he scoffed. 

“If I… change. If I do something to hurt them. I need you to-”

“That’s not how this works, Y/N. You know that. You’ve spent the last ten years studying it. You aren’t just going to wake up one day and turn into Lydia Y/L/N.” 

“I killed, Derek,” you cried. “I’m a killer. I’m already her.”

“Your mother suffered a severe psychotic break due to undiagnosed PTSD from your father’s abuse,” he said slowly. “Why are you so convinced that that’s who you are?”

“Because everything I touch dies!” 

Your hand hit his chest before you really knew what you were doing. You pushed again. 

“Arrest me.” 

“I’m not gonna do that.” 

You hit him again, this time harder. “Derek, arrest me. Stop me. Do something! Arrest me, damnit!”

“Y/N, stop.” 

“I can’t go back. You have to end it. I can’t- please- I can’t do it alone. Derek, please.”  

He caught you before you fell, holding you up against his chest as your arms fell defeated to your sides. Sobs muffled against him and tears stained his dark shirt. You kept muttering the same things over and over again until they didn’t make sense to you anymore. Derek lowered his voice to a persistent, caring whisper. 

“Y/N, running away isn’t going to save us. You can’t protect anyone by destroying yourself,” he sighed, keeping his arms locked around your shaking frame. “Or asking me to.”  

“You don’t- you don’t know that.” 

“I know you. And I know how crazy Reid and your brother are going right now worrying about you,” he said, still holding on. “They aren’t afraid of you, sweetheart. They’re afraid of losing you.” He pulled back, tucking a finger under your chin to lift your head. “If I don’t bring you back, that kid is going to lose his mind, you hear me?” He smiled slightly. “I know the fight you’ve got in your head isn’t one that I can just pull you out of, even though I want to. But that’s the thing, Y/N. You have to keep fighting.”

You closed your eyes, more tears cascading down your cheeks. He kissed your forehead. “Let’s take you home, okay? I talked to Garcia and she said we can use her office and you can tell me everything. Or you can say nothing. It’ll be up to you.” 

With a deep breath, you nodded, opened the car door and climbed inside. 

-

(I know I forgot to post last week, I'm sorry!)

The In-Betweens series: @amywright; shesoperfectt;  hereforsmutbcicantgetenough;  violetbossler;  hyper-half-blood;  i-bitch-you-bitch; xcastawayherosx; preciousbabypeter; @jori21; @sol-48;  @murdermornings ; @ staygoldsquatchling02; @ ara-a-bird

[subskz]

.... I'M BACK.

NEED TO FUCK CHANNIE EVERYWHEREEEEE CAN'T KEEP MY HANDS OFF OF HIM CAN'T KEEP MY HANDS OFF OF HIM CAN'T KEEP MY HANDS OFF OF HIM

riding him cowgirl style and watching the way his cute angelic face scrunches together in concentration, his mouth hangs open in awe bc everything feels good and he hesitantly places his hands on your hips, just to feel you there

need to ride him on the bed and HE WOULD BE THE TYPE TO DO THAT BEAR HUG THING, PULLING YOU DOWN ONTO HIS CHEST AND WRAPPING HIS ARMS AROUND YOU, NEEDING TO FEEL YOU CLOSE, WANTING TO HUG YOU AND SHOW AFFECTION THIS WAY AND I'D EATTTT ITTTT UPPPPPP BARK BARK BARK

need NEEEEEED him to cling onto you while you're bent over the table, or sink or anything and he's so desperately rutting against you, squeezing the fat on your thighs, tummy, breasts, EVERYTHING..... imagine taking one of the hands that's wrapped around you down to your pussy and making him rub your clit.... HE'D CHOKE. HE'S SO SHYYYYY EEEEEE ARGH AEGJ ABRL BARK AVRK

NEED TO FUCK HIM IN A CAR IN A SECLUDED, PRIVATE SPOT HE QUICKLY SWERVED INTO BC YOU LITERALLY CAN'T KEEP YOUR HANDS OFF OF HIM AND HE CAN'T CONCENTRATE AND HE WOULD DESPERATELY GRIND AGAINST YOUR CLOTHED MF CORE BC HE'S RILED UP BUT MOST OF ALL HE JUST WANTS YOU TO TAKE THE INITIATIVE AND REMOVE AN LAYER YOU WANT ARGH ARGH BARK GAEK AVRK

WANT HIM TO LAY ON THE EDGE OF THE BED, LEGS CROSSED AND UP AGAINST YOUR SHOULDERS AND I WANT TO REACH HIS PROSTATE W MY STRAP SO DEEP LIKE I'M TRYING TO REACH THE DEEPEST PART OF HIS SOUL AND OVERTAKE IT LIKEEEEE HE NEEDS TO FEEL THE STRAP IN HIS THROATTTTTT AND IT MAKES HIM ALL CHOKED UP OUT OF LOVE AND PLEASURE EEEEEEEEEEE BANGS HEAD AGAINST WALL BANGS HEAD AGAINST WALL BANGS HEAD AGAINST WALL

I'M GOING INSANE.

IT’S THAT TIME OF THE DAY AGAIN…BANG CHRISTOPHER CHAN GET OVER HERE‼️ literally every one of these scenarios has me a different flavor of unwell oh my god you are so determined to send us all spiraling w u 😵‍💫

the hesitation before resting his hands on your hips got me so good…he’s so insatiable when it comes to physical touch but even so his hands still hover over your skin in uncertainty and big eyes look up to you for permission for even the most innocent of touches ㅠㅠ a polite and thoughtful angel even when he needs you so bad

THE BEAR HUG….ENOUGH </3 channie is not content unless every last one of his senses is fully overcome w just you…nestling his face in the crook of your neck and breathing in your scent, pawing and grabbing at any part of your body he can get his hands on, and somehow still begging for more through all his gasps and whines 💔 and i’m actually abt to lose it thinking abt his reaction to you guiding him to touch you, he absolutely would choke!! the way he’s still so shy and flustered despite the fact that you are literally having sex just makes it all the more adorable

the thought of his legs crossed up on your shoulders is actually the final straw for me are you kidding…he feels so small and secure in that moment bending to your every will he might even get a lil emotional abt it ㅠㅠ he wants to feel you so hard and deep inside him that any time he’s around you for the next few days he can still feel the effects of it, getting turned on all over again <33

[call-me-maggie13]

"Hey, watch out!"

Lilith snatches the frisbee out of the air before it has the opportunity to smack Beatrice in the face, grumbling under her breath and throwing it back to the teenage boy.

Beatrice doesn’t even look up from the notes spread across her lap and the picnic blanket, tapping her pen against her bottom lip as she rereads a notecard. Lilith groans at her and flicks the edge of the spiral journal in Beatrice’s lap.

"What?" Beatrice groans, rolling her eyes and shifting away from Lilith.

"Are you kidding? I just saved your life and you’re not even going to look up from…" Lilith snatches the flash card from Beatrice’s hand, holding it out of Beatrice’s reach to read it. "The definition of armature?"

"You hardly saved my life," Beatrice protests, pressing the pressure point in Lilith’s elbow so she can grab her notecard. "At worst, I would’ve received a broken nose. That’s hardly my life, demon."

"Actually, I’m the mother of all demons." Lilith rolls her eyes and flops onto her back, staring up at the clouds and ripping a tiny patch of the grass up, letting the wind carry it away. She sighs heavily, kicking her feet and rocking her shoulders to jostle Beatrice’s notes.

Beatrice readjusts her notes and continues studying only for Lilith to groan and exaggerate her sigh, wiggling again and knocking Beatrice’s notecards askew.

"Oh my god, what?!" Beatrice snaps, rolling her eyes and kicking Lilith’s shin lightly.

"I’m so glad you asked, I’m bored." Lilith props herself up on her elbows, grinning at Beatrice.

"Then study, aren’t you failing microeconomics or something?" Beatrice returns to her notes, flipping through the spiral notebook in search of a specific set of schematics.

"It’s obstetrics and I’m not failing anymore," Lilith grumbles and flops back against the grass before sitting up abruptly. "Come on, let’s go do something."

"Like what?"

Beatrice picks up another notebook and begins taking new notes.

"I don’t know. It’s a Friday, we can go to the bar or a club or literally anything other than sitting here wasting the perfect day on our notes."

"You’re not wasting it on your notes, you’re cloudwatching," Beatrice answers absentmindedly, chewing on the end of her pen as she rereads the notes she’s just written. Suddenly, she drops her pen and looks up. "Regardless, I don’t have time for partying, I promised I’d take Ava and Diana to the aquarium."

"God, you get a girlfriend and completely ditch your friends. I didn’t know you were that kind of girl, Beatrice." Lilith is teasing, she’s known Beatrice long enough to know she never breaks a promise.

Beatrice rolls her eyes and returns to the notes and Lilith returns to her cloud watching. Lilith watches a nearby group of young women initiate a game of footie, the smallest woman noticing and waving her over. Lilith considers joining them, anything would be better than trying to convince this lovesick puppy to put down her only excuse not to run home to her golden retriever girlfriend and her forest monster baby.

As much as Lilith tries, she can’t bring herself to truly dislike Ava. She’s loud and obnoxious and insufferable, but she’s good and kind and honest. She treats Beatrice the way she deserves, looks at her like she’s the Sistine Chapel. Ava makes Beatrice laugh and stay up late and try new things, she’s talked Beatrice into trying insane food combinations and watching terrible movies.

Lilith can’t deny the new flame in Beatrice’s eyes, the easy warmth in her smile. She knows it’s Ava, it’s been Ava since Beatrice arrived home after classes that first time she’d babysat Diana. And every day, Beatrice has gotten lighter.

It’s annoying.

"Could we at least eat something?" Lilith whines, rolling onto her elbow and flicking Beatrice’s forehead.

"You’re insufferable." Beatrice swats Lilith’s hand away without looking up, finishing the sentence she’s writing before finally turning her attention to Lilith.

Lilith feels like a child at her birthday party when she finally wins Beatrice’s attention, resisting the temptation to wiggle in place.

"Where do you want to go?" Beatrice stacks her notecards and bundles her pens together.

"Cat’s Cradle?" Lilith suggests, sitting up and shoving her books into her bag. Beatrice groans and carefully tucks her papers into a folder in her rucksack. "Okay, what about the new pizza parlor?" Beatrice scrunches her mouth up but doesn’t verbally reject the idea. "We can’t do Asian fusion again, we’ve both gotten sick every time we’ve been."

"What about The Halo?" The Halo is a new restaurant on campus, opened by an alumni from before Beatrice and Lilith’s time. It’s received glowing reviews from both the campus and the local papers, quickly becoming a popular choice among students. It typically has upwards of a half hour wait.

Lilith was invited to the grand opening but she couldn’t attend because she had… well… plans with Camila.

"We could invite Camila and Ava," Lilith suggests, standing and offering her hand to help Beatrice up, adding as an afterthought, "I don’t know if they have baby food though."

"Diana doesn’t eat baby food, she’s two, Lilith." Lilith’s shrugs and folds the blanket, tucking it under her arm and intercepting an out of bounds football rolling near them. The same small woman calls her to send it back and Lilith toes it into the air, juggling it between her feet before punting it to her. The woman catches the ball against her chest and thanks her cheerily, waving when Lilith turns to follow Beatrice away.

"So…?" Beatrice blinks and refocuses on Lilith, eyes furrowed. "Are you going to invite your baby mama and spawn?"

Beatrice rolls her eyes but shakes her head. "We have hardly seen each other recently, I think I’d prefer it be just us?"

"Okay. But you’re buying the appetizers."

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