#it's always a joy to write something for you

[gigiwritess]

IN ORBIT

dr. jack abbott x f!resident!reader!vega aka "wildcard"

wc: 2,047 synopsis: ten weeks of dr. vega surviving in the pitt. eight weeks of dr. vega and dr. abbot stuck in each other's orbits. tl;dr: dr. abbot and dr. vega start to get close to each other.

contents: 20-year age gap (vega is 26, jack is 46). slight mention of vega's worsening mental health issues; description of back problems (which are entirely based on my own). usual pitt dynamics. probably lots of medical inaccuracies that im not gonna apologize for. this is totally self-inserted and vega is totally based in lots of aspects of myself. gonna probably update this list when i have more creativity.

gigi's notes: whats up guys!!!! i have absolutely no words to thank all the love you've given the first piece of this thing (because i'm not really sure what it is yet). i'm in a kinda deep depressive crisis at the moment (pretty much like the one vega's in) and when i wrote it i was trying to force myself to write in the hopes that i'd feel the same joy i used to feel (and i did!!!), so seeing how many people enjoyed this bit of myself really mattered to me. thank you. ALSO: THANK YOU FOR 500 FOLLOWERS!!!!! now, about the fanfic: vega isn't exactly an oc (at least i think so), but, like i mentioned before, she is entirely based in myself (including her mental & back problems, poor thing), so i understand if any of you don't really see her as reader and it's okay. i feel like i kinda repeated some stuff too much in this piece and i feel like there are lots of things that aren't that good or i could've written better, but i still liked the way it turned out, so my self-doubt and impostor syndrome can go fuck themselves. also, like i mentioned in the previous, i HATE slowburns and i had something totally different planned for this piece, but then i started writing and having ideas and it felt right to write a short one just about their interactions. i PROMISE that the next one will be less slow and have a lot more burning. also, i had no intention to do so but i ended up following a stellar pathway to this fanfic. which is really fitting considering myself as a person. university is still kicking my ass (when is it not?), but i'm gonna try to commit to write & post weekly (let's call it exposure therapy). this was reviewed once but it's possible to have typos; english isn't my first language. i'll probably remember other things to tell you later so i'll probably update these notes in the future. enjoy!!!! :))))

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Vega was day shift. Jack Abbot was night shift.

Yet, despite that slight difference, whenever she was working, he seemed to be too. Whenever she rounded a corner, he was there on the nurses’ station, charting or talking to someone, irritating Robby, or making Dana laugh without even trying. Whenever she worked a case, he seemed to linger around. Whenever he worked a case, she seemed to linger around, too. They were in each other’s way. And they weren’t avoiding being there.

Jack attributed that to an ever-growing lack of sleep. She happened to be on his mind more frequently than he wanted. Anything she did made him aware of her—aware of her face, aware of her voice, aware of her presence in the Pitt.

He didn’t see her often; she was always busy, always treating someone or charting or doing rounds or sometimes even triage. Jack didn’t talk much with her. Not that he talked that much with anyone else—but there was something about her. Something about her made noise feel irrelevant. She was quiet, but she wasn’t shut off, not in a cold way; guarded, as if she’d learned early not to give people easy access to anything she didn’t want touched. She was assertive, self-assured in her words and actions. She didn’t say much, but when she did, it cut clean. Still, he caught himself looking when she wasn’t more times than he expected, caught himself wondering how someone so quiet could take up that much space. Physically, in the Pitt, or in his mind.

Vega would catch herself searching for him in the Pitt way more often than she intended, almost as if there was a string tethering them to each other. She didn’t want to be aware of him, but she was. She was aware of him in the way one’s body reacts before the mind does—like a storm brewing just outside the window. He didn’t crowd her, didn’t flirt, didn’t even look too long. But he watched. And she noticed.

They seemed to be stuck in the same magnetic field, like two forces stuck in each other’s orbit, getting closer each time, both acutely aware of each other. Like Andromeda and the Milky Way—two beasts that would, eventually, collide.

She’d often brush past him at the nurses’ station. Stand just a tiny bit closer than she had to. Whenever they traded words, it was usually there—like the first time he threw her a compliment.

“You did good today,” he said, not looking up from his charting, his scrubs still stained with blood from a massive bleeding they dealt with together earlier.

She turned to him. “You sound surprised,” she replied, keeping her face neutral.

He put the chart down and looked at her, his eyes always tired but always steady.

“I’m not.”

Then he put the chart away and walked away, not saying another word. But those two words stayed with her longer than they should have.

From then on, working the same cases started to be more frequent; standing side by side, handing each other equipment and charts without even having to ask. They were learning to read each other’s silences, they were learning each other’s rhythms.

The next time she found herself noticing him, he looked like hell. She was on shift; he was working overtime. That much was clear by the way his shoulders were heavy, pen moving slowly across a chart, scrub top wrinkled and littered with dark stains—he wasn’t one to change scrubs often, just like her; they always had bigger concerns. He looked like he hadn’t slept in well over three days; his brows were carved in a deep line, the fluorescent lights cutting hard lines under his eyes. He wasn’t even supposed to be there.

She didn’t think, her body moving on its own accord. Just grabbed a fresh cup of coffee from the vending machine and, silent as a predator, set it down next to him with a soft thud, keeping her attention on her tablet.

Jack’s eyes flicked up, slow and heavy-lidded, but never without that sharp flame underneath. He glanced at the coffee and then, for a beat, he just looked at her.

“You trying to earn a gold star, kid?” He said, voice low, his mouth twisting into something lazy and rough.

Vega leaned an elbow on the counter, close—too close—, her sleeve brushing his. Her eyes met his.

“No,” she said, head tilting just enough to make it feel deliberate, her mouth just slightly tugging at the corner. “Just don’t want an old man dropping dead on my shift.”

He laughed—a real laugh, low, rough-edged, caught between surprised and something else, the kind of laugh that cracked through his exhaustion. He shook his head slowly, his eyes not leaving hers, something sharp and warm and unknown stuck between them.

She liked making him laugh.

His fingers wrapped around the warm cup, his fingers grazing hers—not by accident. Vega didn’t flinch.

“Careful,” he muttered, low enough for her to hear, “or people’ll notice you have a sense of humor.”

She smiled. Small, sharp. Just for him. A silent moment passed before she answered, her eyes analyzing his almost as if trying to decide if he was worth her time. Trying to recognize what it was that she saw in his eyes, the familiarity of it.

“See?” She said in a softer voice, the glint in her eye unmistakable, starting to push away from the counter. “You’re already imagining things. Drink it before it gets worse.”

Jack didn’t answer, just lifted the coffee toward her in a half-ass salute, finally sipping from it. It tasted better than he expected. He watched her walk away, his lips tugged upward in a tired smirk that lingered even after she disappeared down the hall, his eyes trailing after her.

Somewhere along the way of starting to work together, she’d learned how he drank his coffee. That warmed something inside of him.

There was something there, something he couldn’t quite name yet. It was quiet, simmering, growing—almost like a current humming just beneath the surface. Like a prickle slowly getting under his skin.

A few days turned into a few shifts, which turned into days, which turned into weeks. In a bit over two months since joining the Pitt, Vega had been working more with Abbot than with Robby—but she wasn’t complaining.

They still didn’t talk often, but it wasn’t only the strictly necessary, either. Sometimes he’d throw her a rare comment, always adding a “kid” at the end, and she would retort with something just as fitting, “old man” always on her tongue—it usually earned a laugh from him. They always ended up drifting back to each other’s orbit, standing almost too close, brushing fingers when handing each other things, finding their eyes already on the other, sharing a few loaded glances. Working side by side in sync, reading each other’s silences and minds.

There was something about the way he didn’t push, he didn’t demand more than she was willing to give, that spoke to her; that made her see him in a different light than she expected to. He was showing her that he wasn’t quite like she expected him to be. There was something between them—something unknown, something unspoken, and she hadn’t yet realized just how deep it was.

It was a week and a half after the coffee moment—in that meantime, he’d gotten her two coffees in return. He’d learned how she drank her coffee, too, without asking, and it touched something strange inside of her that she did her best to ignore. But it was there.

This time, she was the one working overtime. Her mind was full of too many dark things she didn’t have the strength to face at the moment, so she chose to keep working. That way, she kept busy; that way, she didn’t need to spend too much time alone with her thoughts.

Around eleven pm, the ER was finally calming down—not that anyone dared to say that out loud. After a massive car pileup, the voices finally started to give way to whispers and quietness, everyone disappearing into any rest they could get. Vega was finally able to take a deep breath. So was Jack—she’d barely seen him today.

His voice was suddenly by her side.

“You should sit down.”

She glanced up at him, brows furrowing. “What?”

He gestured toward the nearest chair.

“You’ve been on your feet all day,” he replied, putting a chart away and grabbing another before pointing at her back. “It’s not good for your back.”

Vega froze, completely paralyzed in what she was doing. Her water bottle was forgotten mid-air, watching his back as he walked away normally, as if he hadn’t left her with the most dumbfounded look she’d ever had, as if he’d said the most normal, trivial thing in the world.

But it wasn’t. It wasn’t the most normal, common-knowledge thing in the world, because she had never mentioned her back problems to anyone, not even Robby—let alone Jack. She was too used to keeping her problems by herself, dealing with everything on her own, unused to asking for help. And he’d noticed.

Her back was hurting.

She had good and bad days; sometimes, the pain would barely make itself known. Other times, no matter what she did—stretches, sleeping without any pillows, pills, having the best mattress possible—, it never left, like a pointy pebble stuck in one’s shoe. Sometimes it’d start in the early morning hours and only get worse throughout the day. Today was one of those days, where with each passing hour that she was on her feet, it only worsened. The only painkillers that, in fact, made the pain go away also made her sleepy, totally knocked her out (like the time the pain was so bad she had to take a Tramadol injection), or left her feeling in a dazed state. She couldn’t be in any of these situations at the moment, so she was stuck with it for a few more hours. She was already used to it by now, had gotten good at ignoring it.

Somehow, Jack had noticed. Somehow, Jack had read through the narrowed lines across her face, had read through the way she kept trying to shift her weight to hide the strain, had read through the pain she was trying to ignore, through the way she clenched her jaw and closed her eyes when the pain got too loud to ignore, when she thought no one was looking.

He hadn’t said it to make her flinch, hadn’t said it like an accusation, hadn’t said it to tease. He simply noticed.

And it unsettled Vega—because it meant he was paying attention. Not the kind of attention that grazed the surface, the way most people saw what they wanted to see. Not the kind of attention an attending gave a resident, not just assessing her professional skills. So, she did sit down. Because, somehow, Jack Abbot saw right through her, as if it were the easiest thing in the world. As if it were simple.

She wasn’t used to that.

She was the one who saw. She was who stayed, who stitched, literally and figuratively, people back together and asked for nothing in return.

She was who always put everyone’s needs above her own—

She was who had spent her whole damn life making sure no one ever noticed the cracks—

She was who gave and gave and gave until she almost forgot she had anything left to want—

He just wanted her to sit. To take care of herself.

It hit her sideways, knocking her off balance, making her forget how to breathe. It slipped under her skin before she could stop it, sharp and tender all at once, settling somewhere deep in her chest. Like a bruise she had never realized was there until he touched it without meaning to, the part of her that still wanted—desperately, stupidly—to be seen.

The part of her that wanted it to be her turn. That still wanted to be known, to be chosen, to be kept.

And Jack—

Jack looked at her like he already had.

And it scared the living shit out of her.

gigi's notes: PLS tell me what you guys think, im sooooo looking forward to see your reactions!!! <3 i also started working on a different jack fanfic based on a request of a love triangle, so heads up for a future jack x reader x langdon (but here dilf supremacy always wins so don't worry folks) hehe AND i've been thinking... what do we think of a jack x firefighter!reader? 👀 i'm gonna take the big ass test for joining my state's military firefighters (i probably won't be approved bc i haven't studied at all but i would truly like to be approved [even though i'm graduating in archaeology lol]) so i kept thinking what it'd be like of jack in a relationship with a firefighter so i might write it anyway lol also, can you see how much i need therapy for my people-pleaser issues? im trying ok i took the liberty of tagging below the lovely people who said such nice things about the fanfic and commented and reblogged. if you'd like to be tagged in the future, please let me know! @cosmoscoffeee @mackycat11 @sunfairyy @starkgaryan @amandarobertsboyce @starlight-starbright-8080 @patatesliomlet @saynotononsense @sweetestcowboy @diaryofafeelsaddict

[mattrempeswife]

A LITTLE LOUDER NOW

pair: luke hughes x singer!reader

genre: fluff, romance, established relationship, feel-good.

warnings: announcement, lots of fluff, overwhelming happiness, public cheering, light cursing (out of excitement), major crowd reactions.

summary: as a world-touring singer and as luke longtime girlfriend, you’ve always had the support of your fans and luke, the new jersey devils’ hockey star. during your loud, sold-out concert stop in new jersey, you finally reveal the secret you and Luke have been keeping for months. between laughter, tears, and a double surprise, it’s a night no one will ever forget.

fia’s note: i’ve actually been quite into the idea of luke and a famous reader lately, so i thought it would be really fun to write something based on that! this piece is actually inspired by a few real-life artists who announced their pregnancies on stage, i always thought those moments were so special and emotional, and i wanted to capture a little bit of that magic in this story.

Prudential Center is now vibrated with pure, electric anticipation. You stood behind the curtain, bouncing on the balls of your feet, heart hammering in your chest.

Your oversized black shirt draped down to your mid-thighs, hiding everything you weren’t quite ready to reveal, at least not until the right moment. Your fingers absently brushed over your rounded stomach beneath the fabric, feeling the tiniest flutter of movement. They always danced when you were about to go on stage. Like they knew.

“You’re on in five,”

Your stage manager called, shooting you a thumbs up.

You turned, and just before stepping into the spotlight, you caught a glimpse of Luke he smiled at you with a soft, private and a look that said go make magic, baby. Your chest squeezed with love.

You blew him a kiss and mouthed, I love you.

Then the curtain lifted and the world exploded.

The roar of your fans was deafening, the kind that vibrated in your bones. Thousands of voices screaming your name, hands shooting into the air, the whole place alive with so much love it was overwhelming.

Grinning, you ran to the front of the stage, arms wide open.

“NEW JERSEY, ARE YOU READY TO HAVE THE BEST NIGHT OF YOUR LIVES?!” you screamed into the mic.

The response was a wall of sound, like a tidal wave hitting you straight in the chest.

Laughing, feeling weightless with joy, you launched into your opening number. The setlist was carefully crafted a balance of your biggest hits and the songs your true fans had loved for years.

Even though you moved a little differently tonight, swaying, bouncing, careful not to do your old flips and spins but it didn’t matter. The fans didn’t care. They sang with you, for you, as loud as they possibly could.

Three songs in, you stopped, breathing heavily but smiling so wide your cheeks hurt.

“You guys,”

You panted into the mic, wiping your forehead with the sleeve of your shirt.

“I missed you. I missed your crazy energy. You’re unreal tonight.”

Cheers answered you, hundreds of phones lighting up like a galaxy in the dark.

“I wanna try something fun,”

You said, pacing slowly across the stage.

“You know how I always talk… tonight, it’s your turn.”

Your crew passed a mic into the pit. Hands shot up, thousands of them.

You pointed, laughing, “Alright, who’s gonna be brave?”

After some scrambling, a younger girl with glittery face paint ended up with the mic, her hands visibly shaking.

“Hi!” she squeaked.

“First of all, you’re my hero. Second, uh, is Luke here tonight?!”

The whole place went wild again, chants of ‘LUKE! LUKE! LUKE!’ filling the air.

You placed your hand dramatically over your eyes, pretending to scan the crowd.

“Hmm…” you teased. “Let’s see…”

And then, grinning wickedly, you turned and pointed directly at the VIP section near the stage.

“There he is!” you cried.

“Of course he’s here to support his girl!”

Spotlights swirled over and sure enough, there was Luke, standing tall, wearing a Devils cap low over his messy hair and a black hoodie. He clapped sheepishly, cheeks flushed pink but grinning with pride.

The crowd went absolute feral, chanting his name louder.

He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled something you could barely hear over the noise, but you saw it clear as day.

“THAT’S MY GIRL!”

Your heart swelled so much you had to physically press a hand over it to keep from crying.

“You guys are gonna make his head bigger than it already is,”

You joked, making the crowd laugh.

“He’s not allowed to steal my show, okay?”

Another fan raised her hand quickly. The mic was passed again.

“If you could only eat one thing for the rest of your life, what would it be?” she asked eagerly.

You laughed. “Oooh, that’s tough. But honestly? Mac and cheese. I’m not even ashamed.”

The crowd cheered approvingly.

Another fan spoke up next.

“If you could switch lives with Luke for a day, would you?”

You wrinkled your nose playfully.

“I love him, but no way. Y’all, the amount of bruises and missing teeth in hockey? Nah. I’ll stay right here with my mic, thanks!”

Everyone burst out laughing, including Luke, who dramatically pretended to faint.

One more question flew at you, and you smiled warmly when you heard it.

“What’s the best advice Luke has ever given you?”

You paused, thoughtful.

“Honestly?” you said softly,

“He always tells me to be proud of myself. Even when I feel like I’m not doing enough, he reminds me that showing up and trying is everything. And… that’s stuck with me.”

A gentle chorus of ‘aww’ rippled across the arena. Luke smiled so wide it was practically blinding.

And then…

A quieter voice from the crowd, hesitating but brave:

“Um, okay,” she said,

“We’re just wondering… why have you been wearing such massive clothes lately? And not dancing much? There’s a rumor you might be, uh… y’know… pregnant?”

Instantly, a hush fell.

Thousands of people holding their breath.

You laughed softly into the mic, heart hammering. This was it. This was the moment.

You slowly started pacing back toward center stage, holding the mic loosely in one hand.

“Alright,” you said, your voice warm and teasing.

“I wasn’t gonna say anything yet… but you guys know me better than that.”

Fans started screaming already, sensing it.

“I was hiding it,” you admitted, grinning.

“I didn’t want the paparazzi to ruin it. But… you’re lucky I love each and every one of you so much.”

You reached for the hem of your oversized shirt.

The place went dead silent.

Slowly, with a big, dramatic flair, you pulled the shirt up and off, tossing it to the side.

Underneath, you wore a fitted white tank top and your baby bump was impossible to miss.

Rounded and adorable, it pressed snug against the fabric, proud and perfect.

You held your arms out wide, beaming.

“YEAH!”

You shouted, your voice cracking slightly with emotion.

“I’m pregnant! I’m gonna be a mama soon!”

The arena exploded in screams, louder than anything you had ever heard in your life.

But you weren’t done.

“And just so you know,”

You said, pointing a teasing finger at them all, “I’m not about to pop yet.”

The screams quieted slightly, eager to hear more.

“It looks this cute because…”

You grinned, dragging it out.

“I’m having twins!”

The crowd lost it completely, screaming, crying, jumping. Total chaos. Pure love.

You wiped tears off your cheeks, laughing breathlessly.

Cameras cut to Luke again, who was standing now, both hands shoved in his hair, looking like he was two seconds from bursting with pride. His mouth formed a perfect oh my god before he just started clapping wildly, his whole face lit up like the sun.

Your heart squeezed so tightly it almost hurt.

“My little family’s growing,”

You said into the mic, voice wobbling.

“And… I couldn’t be happier.”

The fans started chanting again. ‘MAMA! MAMA! MAMA!’ and you pressed your hand over your bump protectively, smiling so big your face hurt.

The next songs you sang, you couldn’t stop smiling. Every chorus felt bigger. Every verse felt sweeter.

You even danced a little, swaying and cradling your bump while fans threw baby-themed gifts onto the stage tiny Devils onesies, knitted booties, mini hockey sticks. You picked up one of the tiny onesies and held it up, laughing so hard tears ran down your cheeks.

“How — are insane,” you sniffled happily.

“But I love you.”

Toward the end, you sat down on the edge of the stage, feet dangling off, just talking with the crowd.

Finally, the night wound to a close, you stood up, wiping tears away.

“New Jersey always mean something to me and Luke,”

You said into the mic, voice thick with emotion.

“And this is where I wanted to share my biggest news. Because… you’re not just fans to me. You’re also a close friend.”

You pressed a hand over your heart.

“Thank you for loving me. Thank you for loving us.”

With one final blow of a kiss toward the sea of faces, you walked off the stage and straight into Luke’s arms waiting.

He scooped you up carefully, spinning you in a slow, gentle circle.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured against your temple.

You clung to him, laughing and crying at the same time.

“I can’t believe we just told everyone,” you hiccupped into his hoodie.

Luke pulled back, framing your face in his big hands.

“And you killed it, babe. God, I’m so proud of you.”

He bent down, dropping a soft kiss to your stomach.

Then another.

And another.

“Hi babies,”

He whispered against your bump.

“Daddy loves you.”

Your heart completely melted.

You ran your fingers through his messy hair, whispering back,

“We love you too.”

[karinamay]

please look at your author friends today

I'm really angry and I just need to write out my thoughts. Like I think literally every author friend I have on here and countless more people a lot of my work was scraped from AO3. It kind of hit me like a ton of bricks - pathos was in there, a fic I spent countless hours writing, researching, a fic that created its own little community, that made me and others laugh and cry. a story created for the joy of it.

That's what fandom is about at its core, right? It's community and sharing joy. At its core. The delight in liking the same thing, and celebrating and sharing the things we create as an answer to it. Sure there have always been bad eggs, plagiarism and reposting without credit has always been an issue. But that's a fightable issue. Especially as a community you can fight those things.

One loser who runs an algorithm to steal literal thousands of freely available works for profit isn't something that feels fightable. Not really. It's something we need to adapt to. And beyond all the many reasons it is in fact wrong to do, it feels hurtful. I feel violated. I got robbed and I don't have a leg to stand on to fight it because it's fanwork.

So I put my works, all 47 of them, of which approximately 40 have been scraped, on "archive users only". And that also hurt. Now if you're not an author you might think that's not that bad, but like I said: fandom at its core is about the delight in liking the same thing, and celebrating and sharing the things we create as an answer to it. Restricting access to something I created just for the joy of sharing it, feels wrong. And I have to do it to protect my work.

Now like I said, scrapers like this are hard to fight. But please, for the love of god, if you're not an author, look around at your author friends right now. The people who create the fic you love. See how fucking devastated we all are again.

Please understand why AI doesn't have a place in fandom. We need our community, we need our joy, delight and our celebration and we need your respect and protection. Because the harsh truth of it is, if we can't have those things we will disappear.

[glowettee]

✧ if i’m so dramatic, why am i always right? ✧

✦ intuition vs gaslighting ✦

hi lovelies, it’s mindy 🌷🕯 i’ve been off tumblr for a few days, things have just been really overwhelming lately, and i needed a little breather. but writing always brings me back to myself. it’s my favorite kind of comfort. the glowettee x pll series has seriously been such a joy to create… every post, every idea, every digital piece for my gumroad has been healing in its own way. this next post is something close to my heart. it’s about gaslighting... something i’ve experienced a lot, especially from people i thought i could trust. it’s such a common thing, but so many of us don’t realize it’s happening until way later. i used to second-guess my intuition constantly because people convinced me i was being “too much.” but every time… my gut was right. so i wanted to write this to help you tell the difference between real intuition and someone twisting it. if you’ve ever felt that quiet confusion or started to doubt yourself after talking to someone, this post is for you. i hope it brings clarity. and softness. and maybe even a little validation if you’ve been there too. - mindy 🤍🩰

sometimes i wonder if girls like us were born with a sixth sense or if we just got so used to being hurt that our bodies evolved. hyper-awareness as a survival trait. intuition as our most sharpened weapon. people love to call it being “dramatic,” but let’s be honest... i was right every time.

𓆩♡𓆪

❝ if you’re so emotional, how come your instincts always come true? ❞ they never have an answer to that, do they?

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

✧ the 'dramatic' girl dilemma

there’s a reason why every group chat has a girl they secretly call “too much.” the one who always has a weird feeling. the one who picks up on tone shifts and changes in energy and tiny inconsistencies like it’s her full-time job. she’s the one who says, “this doesn’t feel right,” and gets labeled a buzzkill. the killjoy. the overthinker.

but i’ll let you in on something i had to learn the hard way: they only call you dramatic when they don’t want you to notice what’s really happening.

girls like us don’t get the luxury of being chill. we’re watching. always. we had to learn to be. we’re the first ones to feel the shift in a friend group dynamic. we clock the fake laugh. the silence in the hallway. the DM left on read. and when we bring it up? “you’re imagining things.”

they say "you're too sensitive" like it's a flaw. like feeling deeply makes you unreliable. but being sensitive never meant being wrong. it just meant you felt the betrayal before it became undeniable.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

✧ trauma turned my gut into a siren

there’s something about growing up being ignored, bullied, overlooked, or manipulated that turns your whole nervous system into a radar. suddenly, you’re the girl who notices everything.

like, i still remember being 14 and realizing that one of my friends always laughed at my jokes in front of boys, but never when it was just us. or how she'd call me pretty but then immediately ask if i was wearing makeup. subtle stuff. stuff that sounds dumb when you say it out loud. stuff that makes people go, “you’re reading too much into it.”

but i wasn’t. i never was. that’s the exhausting part.

emotional intelligence feels like a superpower until it starts to drain you. like being psychic, but without the option to turn it off. you don’t just read the room, you analyze it, archive it, cross-reference it with past data.

i used to hate this part of myself. now i know it kept me alive.

you’re not paranoid. you’re perceptive. there’s a difference.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

✧ you knew, even when it didn’t make sense

sometimes your body knows things before your brain catches up. your heart races before he lies. your stomach drops before the betrayal hits. you get that pit-in-your-stomach feeling and then brush it off, until the truth slaps you a week later.

trust me, i’ve been there. i once had a gut feeling that a friend was turning people against me... but there was no proof. just a weird energy. until one day, someone accidentally sent me a screenshot that wasn’t meant for me. and suddenly the feeling made sense.

they call it “bad vibes.” i call it early intel.

start decoding the patterns:

the too-long pause before answering your question

the “i didn’t mean it like that” when you call it out

the subtle digs framed as compliments

the way people say your name when they think you’re not listening

you noticed for a reason. trust the noticing.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

✧ what gaslighting actually feels like

gaslighting doesn’t always sound like “you’re crazy.” sometimes it sounds like “you’re overreacting,” or “you always assume the worst,” or “why do you make everything a problem?”

but the worst kind of gaslighting is the kind you do to yourself. when you feel the red flags and immediately shut yourself down. when your first instinct is right, but your second thought is “i’m just being dramatic.” that’s emotional self-betrayal. it hurts. a lot.

i once told a guy that something felt off, he’d been cold, weird, distant. he said i was insecure. i said sorry. two weeks later, i found out he’d been seeing someone else the whole time. lesson learned: don’t apologize for what your body already knows.

you can’t logic your way out of a feeling that was never lying to you in the first place.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

✧ intuitive doesn’t mean irrational

“dramatic” is just a word they use to discredit girls who are too emotionally accurate to manipulate.

your feelings are data. emotions are not the opposite of intelligence, they’re the early warning system. they tell you what’s not being said. they tell you what the energy in the room is doing. they tell you the truth before the truth shows its face.

what if you’re not “too much,” what if you’re just always one step ahead?

what if the real problem isn’t that you feel too deeply, but that you feel accurately, and that makes people uncomfortable?

i’m reclaiming the word dramatic. to be dramatic is to see danger before it arrives. to feel something shift before it collapses. to be emotionally clairvoyant. and i think that’s beautiful.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

✧ how to protect your knowing

your intuition deserves protection. here’s how i keep mine sacred:

✧ journal your gut feelings ~ even if they don’t make sense yet. time-stamp them. track patterns. ✧ make a screenshots folder ~ for receipts, subtle shifts, digital clues. memory gaslights too. ✧ create a ‘weird vibes’ note in your phone ~ no explanation needed. if something feels off, log it. ✧ meditate or walk after intense conversations ~ let your body process what your mind can’t yet. ✧ check in with your inner child ~ would 13-year-old you trust this person? she knows. always.

𓆩 ritual for the emotionally haunted 𓆪 › write down a time you were right, but told you were wrong › throw it away, or rip it up › whisper “i trust myself now.” › repeat every time the world tries to confuse you.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

✧ you weren’t crazy, you were correct, and ahead

they’ll tell you you’re crazy until the moment you’re proven right. they’ll call you dramatic until the danger becomes undeniable. they’ll gaslight you until the truth surfaces, and then pretend they never doubted you at all.

the girls who trust themselves become the women no one can lie to. so feel everything. sense everything. believe yourself.

being dramatic is how you survived the world they tried to confuse you in.

and if you’re always the first to notice the danger, maybe it’s not a flaw. maybe it’s your gift. maybe it’s what will save you.

✧ love always, mindy

[rubyrose143]

Hirano and Kagiura

„To all the haters out there, I just wanna say, if you’re jealous then just go cry about it“ - Amy Flamy

I wanted to do this thread now to end the forced hate towards hrkg.

So lean back and enjoy cause it’s gonna be MUCH 😉 (I’m their lawyer haha)

some information before I start:

Hirano and Kagiura are two roommates who live in the same dormitory and attend the same school. Hirano is one year older and on the disciplinary committee and Kagi is on the basketball team.

Let’s start 😁

We all know Hirano and Kagiura have a special bond since the first time they met! Kagi is really fond of Hirano and Hirano is really attached to Kagi.

Both are really direct and stubborn people, nice and caring but also loud and straight forward! But even when there are points where they are really similar, there are things where they aren’t similar, at all. In fact how they love a person is different and that’s what I’m going to show you.

„Hirano doesn’t love Kagi and never will, because he doesn’t feel romantic/ intimate feelings towards him. He does that to satisfy Kagiura“

Reeeeeeeaaaaallllllyyy? Wow this is interesting. So love means intimacy?Hmm… I seee.

So Kagiura didn’t love Hirano before the temple too because he didn’t had the urge to kiss him nor to touch him? Miyano didn’t like Sasaki too because he didn’t know if kissing was okay?

Love is something complex, something big and complicated. Love doesn’t mean: „Crush, blush, date, marry, sex, children“

No. If you love someone you want to be with them, you care about them, you miss them, you want to help them, support them in every little situation.

And both Hirano AND Kagi care about each other more than anyone else

Hirano always cared about Kagi, thinking about if he ate or practiced, if he’s fine and not overworking himself. 

After the confession where he turned him down, even THEN he cared about his feelings, thinking if it’s okay to wear the earrings he has gotten from his kouhai. 

He lets them try things out (the ten seconds) to see if he can see him as a potential partner 

And the courage to say that Kagi forces Hirano to do thing he doesn’t want is just straight up absurd. Kagi always sticks to the line and never breaks his boundaries.. Even when he did cross the line even a little, he felt guilty and apologized immediately, thinking about it for days! And Hirano hates it when Kagi avoids him and TELLS him to do it (madly… and loud…)

And Hirano doing this all to satisfy Kagiura because he could never love him is also just stupid. When Miyano wanted time to see if he can see Sasaki as a romantic partner, did we say he won’t love Sasaki? No… but fine let’s say Hirano and Kagi won’t get together cause why not? (sigh) 

How Niibashi said, Hirano is on his journey to fall in love. He is realizing things like, he does like Kagiura and he doesn’t dislike touching (if he initiates it) he wasn’t this far few chapters ago. Hirano never had thoughts about romantic relationships and people are all stereotypical about romance. Let the boy experience his own emotions. If he doesn’t like things, that’s fine, if he does like things that’s fine too. But stop being so pushy and try to make everything about stereotypes. Sensei‘s work was never like that. She doesn’t even like to use things like Uke and seme, she writes a story about boys who love each other. And isn’t that why we read this? So why make everything negative just because you don’t like it. If you don’t like hrkg or ssmy, don’t read it and don’t take the joy of the people who do love it.

And also, Kagi is right, sometimes love isn’t pink and beautiful, sometimes it hurts

Because love is sometimes suffering, longing, guilt and missing. 

And I use the words ‚sometimes‘ really often because it’s different for every couple and pair all around the world. Everyone loves different! Just because hrkg‘s relationship is like that, doesn’t mean ssmy‘s is like that. Just because ssmy‘s relationship is like that, doesn’t mean hrkg‘s relationship is like that (And both couples are healthy and perfect in their own ways)

Hirano and Kagiura have a great relationship 

Supporting each other

Caring about each other

missing each other

thinking about each other

appreciating each other

And that’s what you call ‚love‘. It’s a pure feeling. Intimacy comes muuuuchhhhhh later (sometimes). We don’t know if Hirano will be ready in one chapter, in five chapters or in fifteen chapters! And that’s not our problem anyway. 

How Kagiura said, for him love means wanting to be with someone more than anyone else, and Hirano feels the same way. 

Kagiura is faster in wanting things cause he had a previous relationship where he didn’t want any of this so he can compare both feelings.

So he is sure this one has to be Love.

.

.

.

In the end they care about each other more than anyone else. Support each other more than anyone else.

Enjoy being with each other more than with anyone else.

And love each other more than anyone else, cause they are their favorite/ most important persons in each others life.

And this, ladies and gentlemen, is the story of Hirano and Kagiura which still has a looooong way to go.

And we fans are always gonna be here no matter what! So for all the people who still hate and comment, please, go read Hirano to Kagiura AND Sasaki to Miyano again, thanks!

Thanks for reading this! I worked on this for many days! Let’s spread this and make the haters go away! 💚💛

[genevievefangirl]

Wow. So Dead Boy Detectives has been out for a full year, huh?

I've seen a couple of other people make posts like this for the anniversary, but when I sat down to write one, I initially found myself at a loss as to how to properly convey what this show means to me.

I have been in fandom spaces for over 14 years now, and I can confidently say that DBDA has changed me more than any other fandom. At this point it is *more* than just a show. It has become a major part of my life.

After over a decade of only reading fanfic, DBDA is the show that inspired me to finally put pen to paper and write my own. I never thought I would be a writer (always thought I would be terrible at it, honestly), but Edwin/Charles awoke something in me, and now I can't picture myself not writing. I have written over 100k words since June and have no plans to stop.

Because of DBDA, I have met countless new friends (both here and on discord) that are so important to me. To those of you reading this, know that I literally cannot imagine my life without you in it. You bring me joy every single day, and I hope that our relationship gives you just as much joy as it gives me.

And I would be remiss if I did not mention the entire DBDA Haunt discord community directly. Never in my life did I think I would be a mod on a discord server. Ever. But the community that has formed on there is such a happy place for me. It hasn't been perfect (god knows I have made mistakes and learned a lot along the way), but every movie night, fanfic brainstorming session, and shenanigan-filled day on there has brightened my life considerably. All of you are amazing, and we have DBDA to thank for bringing us all together ❤

So happy anniversary DBDA! Thank you to the cast, crew, and everyone who made the show what it is. Thank you for creating a show that speaks to us and makes us feel loved and supported.

And thank you to the entire fandom that has made the DBDA community what it is. If you ever wrote fanfic, drew fanart, made fanvids, created gif sets, wrote meta, commented on someone else's art, or even just hit the like or kudos button, YOU are what makes this community great. Fandom is about contributing. Fandoms stay alive because people keep creating and people keep engaging with those creations, and I plan on sticking around this fandom for a long time.

I hope we get to see more of DBDA someday. But even if we don't, it has made my life a million times more fulfilled. I love it, and this fandom, so very much.

You're all amazing, Gen💙

[babyseraphim]

Happy DBDA Anniversary!

This fandom has changed my life in such a big way that I can't even put it into words. I get to say that I write, now, which is something I never thought I'd be able to say about myself. Creating stories for these dead boys has brought me so much joy during probably one of the most difficult years of my adult life.

Thank you all for being so kind, talented, and all around just amazing. I have plenty more stories planned for the year to come, and I hope you all plan on continuing to create, too <3

Especially big thanks to @many-gay-magpies, the best fandom pal ever, and to @ur-localkiwi and @edmcmayonnaise for being such amazing friends and artists that are always willing to indulge my creative whims T-T

If we’ve talked at all this year, even just a little, you’re wonderful and thank you!

[danikamariewrites]

marrying mob!az please 🩷 loving your writing so much 🩷

Note: thank you anon! Today is the last day of headcanon bingo. Thank you for playing along and celebrating 3k with me 🫶🏻 I appreciate you all so much

Warnings: none

When Azriel decided to propose he called a meeting while you were out

Who was in that meeting? Only the most important people. Cassian, Rhys, Mor and Feyre

Their opinions mattered most when it came to how he proposed and what kind of ring he should get you

Once Azriel told the group he’s proposing they all started screaming and jumping for joy

Cassian tackled Azriel

Mor, Feyre, and Rhys just held hands and spun around in a circle

Complete chaos, all Azriel’s fault

He was starting to regret asking them for help

Once order was restored Mor and Cassian tried to take over on ring design

Everything was overwhelming Az until Feyre, calm and helpful Feyre, shushed them. “I think this is my area of expertise.” And she was correct

That afternoon Feyre guided Azriel to this small jewelry shop. Az was confused at first. He wants to get you a nice expensive ring. Not something from here

“I see your scowl and I’m asking you to trust me on this. I know y/n, Azriel.” He took a deep breath and held the door open for her

He was so wrong about the shop. Each ring was handmade and custom. The jewels expensive and only made with the best silver and gold. Feyre was a huge help. Reminding Azriel what metal you wear and helping him design a piece of art you can wear forever

5 agonizing weeks later when the ring was done Azriel rushed to pick it up

He didn’t know if he should wait and plan the perfect moment or if she should just get on one knee now

Azriel was very nervous he’d misplace the ring and he would never forgive himself

That’s when the perfect idea hit him. Dinner in the gardens, just the two of you, and he’d propose that night

You truly had no idea Azriel was proposing

He did a good job at hiding it from you

Cassian and Rhys almost ruined it. And Azriel’s money was on Mor and Cassian not being able to keep their mouths shut, not Rhys

You’d never seen Azriel so nervous in the moments before he got down on one knee

You were crying as you said yes. Once Az slipped the ring in your finger (a perfect fit) the two of you wouldn’t let go of each other

A few weeks later wedding planning was in full swing

You had a wedding planner, decided on your date, destination, and venue

All that was left were the small details even though there was no such thing as

Azriel was committed to doing everything with you

Picking the napkins and seating, cake tasting, and if he could go dress shopping with you he would

On the day of your wedding Azriel sent a pair of earrings to the bridal suite that match the stone in your ring along with a note telling you how much he loves you

You do your vows in private after the ceremony

The vows Azriel has for you are for your ears only

The two of you dance all night

You can’t stand being away from your husband for more than 2 minutes of you drift away to greet a guest or get a drink

Azriel can’t keep his hands off you and keeps calling you ‘my beautiful wife’ and watches you blush like crazy

After the ceremony and party you two go home and in the morning head straight for the jet for your honeymoon

Married life is perfect with Azriel

It’s like you guys brought the honeymoon home

Azriel has been happy no matter what news he’s given at work

It’s ok, if something goes wrong he can just go hug and kiss his wife and it’ll be all better

He spends more time out of his office just so he can say ‘I’m going to go see my wife’

You two go on walks just to get out of the house during the day and he loves hearing you talk more than ever now

You’ve always yapped at him but there’s something different about it now

When you two go to an event Azriel loves introducing you as his wife

And you love telling people ‘oh, my husband is looking for me. Excuse me’ or ‘my husband loves that’ or ‘my husband is the same way’

You swear you fell more in love with each other ever since you got married

[ddlydevotion]

ridiculously devoted! Bobby Kennedy Husband hcs…

a/n: I took a little break from writing so I wouldn’t get burnt out, and now I’m back 💌! This may be a bit short so I apologize for that.

currently listening to: chemtrails over the country club by ldr

He keeps multiple photos of you on his domestic office and his appointed office at the White House. Whenever he's away from home, he'll longingly stare at the photographs of you that are settled on his desk and it reminds him of why he works so hard. why he pushes himself to the very end. why he works himself to the bone. It's all for you, and it always will be.

You are just as obsessed with him as he is with you, your friends & family constantly tease the two of you about your unrelenting obsession. You're incredibly attentive when it comes to tending to your shared home, decorating, cooking, planning family events, packing Bobby's favorite lunch, accompanying him to the office. Your friends ooh and awee at the romantic gestures that you & Bobby do for one another and have credited you for raising their standards.

has no problem guiding you to the dance floor while the two of you are out at a ball/gala. If you didn't know how to dance before meeting him, he eased your anxiety and showed you how to simply sway back n forth with him without looking too stiff.

Bobby is a very respectful man, okay? Especially when it comes to you. This is made clear when he makes sure that his hand isn't too low on your back when the two of you are in public. However, when he's had too much to drink at an event, he becomes veryyy touchy. You're left flushed and giggling while moving his hands, continuing to tell him to behave.

you tend to wear his pullover whenever he's away from home and his absence starts to take a toll on you. After he came home to you sleeping in his cardigan, he started to leave his shirts/sweaters around for you to take because he adores seeing you in his clothing.

Whenever he has time away from work, he puts in the effort to help you make a BIG breakfast & dinner. He truly cherishes all of the little moments that he shares with you, and it makes him the happiest man in the world when he's able to share a meal with you.

Within the first month of the two of you dating, he took you to his favorite church and held your hand as the service took place. It makes his heart swell with joy when you accompany him to church, especially if you're not the religious type. It truly means the world to him.

Tagging along with him to important meetings and campaign events. He looks at you with a proud smile when you make the effort to assist him during his brother's campaign. The two of you traveled to many foreign countries, states, and cities together in the name of the campaign & he watches with relish while you speak to the ambassador of whatever country you may be in in their native language. It helped with his brother's votes/numbers and Bobby's love for you went through the damn sky. He already loved you an insane amount but those efforts of yours made his obsession with you intensify by a large amount.

The two of you have the cutest unique little nicknames for one another. Similarly to Jackie, you’d probably call Bobby bunny or beaver because of his teeth. I’m obsessed with his smile if you couldn’t tell. He’d give you a nickname based off of his favorite features of yours, for example, if you have curly hair then he’d call you curly. If your cheeks get naturally flushed then he’d call you rosy. If you have a gap in your teeth then he’d also call you bunny.

he loves reading to you especially if you’ve told him that it helps you relax/sleep easier. He’ll read poems that remind him of you and it makes your heart swell.

Something gives me the feeling that he’d be amazing at comforting you. He’ll shush your sobs while pressing gentle kisses to your forehead, temple, cheek, and eventually your lips. He hates seeing you cry and he’d take away your ability to feel pain if he was given the chance. He cradles you as if you’re a newborn, as if you’re as delicate as a china teapot and coos sweet words of reassurance.

just like Jackie, you’re known as the fashionable wife of your husband. Your dazzling photos are plastered in the newspaper and people scramble to see what & who you wore at whatever major event you attended. Similarly to his brother, Bobby makes little jokes that he is the one accompanying you to events. “Nobody seems to care what I wear! It’s all about my hair with this crowd.”

taglist: @superlegend216 @divinedelusional @bluelancergirl @bobbykennedyshusband @fortheloveofjos @h-l-vlovesvintage @summerrivera777777 @vixenihy @darcyspirits @unmarlou

[carpediemma]

DBDA Anniversary

Ahh! I've been on a plane for 6 hours and generally busy all day, but it's still anniversary day here so I still have time to write a little tribute post 💜

Dead Boy Detectives came at a really opportune time of my life last year. I was--and am quite frankly--recovering from wounds and generally trying to keep my head above water like everyone else. Now, I've been obsessed with media before, but something about this show and story really resonated with me in a different way than shows before it.

I've always been more of a lurker online. In a way antithetical to how most people behave on the internet, I am significantly more reserved and shy on social media platforms. But DBDA made me want to talk and interact more online...

I joined (and talked?!) in fandom discords and have made some quite lovely friends (shout out to the DBDA Haunt discord ;) ). I was giggling to myself the other week that I actually had online friends for the first time in my life (and I have been on the internet for.... a while).

The show also inspired me to write and post it online again. I had written fanfiction in my preteen years, but after posting some Supernatural Destiel thing in my youth and getting utterly ripped apart in the comments of it, I never really wanted to try again. Never was inspired to attempt it on any show or fandom I was in. I never really could see myself being able to write as other characters.

But once again... DBDA changed that. About a year ago I posted on here about ideas of stories I wanted to read in the fandom; content for the most part to just throw my plot bunnies into the ether to get them out of my brain. But then I started to write dialogue in my head and it felt... authentic. It felt fun :) And I wrote.... and wrote... and wrote... and, hell, I'm still writing! And it's really been a joy to rediscover some of that love.

So thank you Dead Boy Detectives and the community it inspired. While I still want to hold some sort of hope in my heart for a revival, it has made a great impact regardless.

I also want to thank anyone who has read, commented, kudos, or otherwise interacted in any way with my posts or stories.

Above all, I want to thank everyone who has opened me into their hearts and hopefully can call me a friend as I do you (and hopefully can for years to come!).

<3 Emma

[rivendell-poet]

How would the each one of the company (and the fellowship if it isn’t too much to ask) like to spend time with their significant other?

(Btw I am absolutely in love with your way of writing :DDD 🩷🩷🩷)

(Thank you so much anon! 🩷🩷🩷) And I'm always apologising for the wait - but I do mean it. This is just the Company, but I do mean to write this up for the Fellowship as well.

So, without further ado...

*･༓˚✧ ❝𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧’𝐬 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫❞ ‧͙⁺˚༓˚✧ « scenarios »

○ Thorin ○ Fíli ○ Kíli ○ Dwalin ○ Bofur ○ Bilbo ○

Gender-neutral reader | Wordcount : 1.5k | TWs : None

𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧

✧ At the start of your relationship he definitely comes across a little broody.

✧ Thorin truly doesn’t mean to, but it’s simply in his nature to be with someone by simply being near them. And he’s not always the best at verbalising his affections, or even acting on them in an incredibly obvious way.

✧ But the eyes you can feel on you are watchful in a caring way, and when you laugh or do something he finds funny you can practically feel the smile he has on his face.

✧ After a few more dates you’re able to coax him to be with you more openly, and now the casual time you spend together is permeated by his voice.

✧ It grows from being simply suggestions, to a quip at your most recent joke or remark, and eventually it’s full conversations without prompting.

✧ Words flow surprisingly easily with the King under the Mountain - and any lull in conversation seems natural, more like a resting point than an awkward silence.

✧ When you become more serious, you realise that Thorin’s love is amazing at filling room, both with conversation and a feeling of being adored.

✧ Thorin will always love you treating you and taking you on dates, although he also enjoys spending time with you quietly.

✧ Once the two of you are comfortable in your relationship, be prepared for a lot of him simply being near you.

✧ Walking into the room and casually giving you a kiss, greeting you before settling down somewhere. And, as he sits across the room from you, you know that he’s always there for you.

𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐢

✧ Even before you were dating he could be quite hyper, appearing beside you without warning and asking you how your day was before launching into an hour long conversation about Valar only knows.

✧ Or, he’d come bearing good news and the want to whisk you away somewhere for the day. A short adventure together.

✧ At first you had thought Fíli was just like that, and then when he confessed you’d believed he’d been so interested - always near you and making time for you - because he wanted to make sure you’d say yes.

✧ Although you didn’t mind too much, it was nice to be wanted. You just wondered when it would slow down.

✧ Except it doesn’t seem to.

✧ He still runs up to you with the same joy in his voice, and the same levels of enthusiasm. A sparkle in his eye and you appear and he takes you into his arms.

✧ The only real difference is now he’ll ask for a kiss as well, and address you by various terms of endearment as well as your name.

✧ So you put together in your mind that he’s trying so much because these are the first weeks and months of courting each other. Both of you certainly want to make an effort.

✧ And Fíli still seems to treat every day with just as much vigour. Still smiles just as brightly at you.

✧ You realise that Fíli is simply like that. That he won’t stop loving you this fiercely, and taking you on sudden dates or spending all night talking with you, because this is how he expresses his love.

✧ Fíli never truly tones down on this love - the flashes of intensity - no matter how long the two of you are together. He simply also balances with a calmer love, of spending time with you domestically and having it be quiet but steady.

✧ His love is always there for you.

𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐢

✧ Is honestly a mix of his brother and his uncle when it comes to expressing his affection.

✧ At the start of your relationship he certainly enjoys spending time with you in a much more spontaneous or ‘impactful’ way.

✧ There’s a thousand different ideas of where you two can go together, or what would make you laugh the most, running through his head at any given time.

✧ Because what’s the point of spending time with your loved ones if it’s not time well spent?

✧ Yet Kíli also finds it just as important to work casual time into you’re courting as well. He wants the two of you to be able to be near each other, hopefully laughing or joking, and simply enjoy the other person's presence.

✧ Most importantly, he doesn’t want either of you feeling guilty that your time together isn’t ‘extravagant enough’.

✧ Kíli very much enjoys physical contact and closeness, so once you’re far enough along in the relationship he tries to maximise the amount of contact he has with you.

✧ He’s not particularly fussy about if it’s you hugging him, or him hugging you, he just wants the two of you to be together.

✧ After a long day, you can hear the soft sound of the door opening and Kíli smiling at you. You can hear his steady presence as he slowly relaxes, taking off his boots and outdoor gear.

✧ You can feel as he gently rests into your side.

✧ “I’ve missed you, darling.”

𝐃𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧

✧ A supportive presence is one of the best gifts you can give someone in life - Dwalin believes.

✧ Which is why, whenever he’s around you, he tries to help you or at least make your day somewhat brighter.

✧ At first he appears when you need something, whether it’s small like lending you an item or spending the day making something new together. Him laughing as you curse at the instructions before you tease him for still following them.

✧ And then, when his friends point out that you seem to smile just when he appears - not when he’s a solution, he begins to come around more often.

✧ Offers of help are always given first, even if it’s as simple as asking if you’re doing anything, but you begin to see through his disguise to spend time with you.

✧ But so you don’t scare him off, you’ll ask for his help with a menial thing. Something that will only take a few minutes.

✧ Except you’re rewarded with hours worth of smiles and conversation.

✧ Eventually, when he comes over to ask as he always does, you’re ready for his arrival.

✧ Instead of lying and making up a problem you’re honest; and then you ask if he’ll make your day better by agreeing to go on a date.

✧ Now, whenever he’s around you, you insist that he is helping you with your day. Because he makes it brighter by simply being there.

𝐁𝐨𝐟𝐮𝐫

✧ As your significant other, Bofur enjoys always being that steady but quiet presence for you.

✧ Although he was overjoyed by your courting, there wasn’t honeymoon period like some people had told you about.

✧ You two had been friends for so long before, he hadn’t felt the need to try and sweep you off your feet by whisking you away for a date everyday and shower you in gifts without true heart behind them.

✧ One of the things he most craved from you was the more domestic affection. Giving you a quick kiss when he sees you, walking with your hands linked together, him lying in bed and you curling up next to him the second you were under the covers.

✧ Bofur always seems to be there whenever you truly need him, and whenever you need him for the little things.

✧ Like how, coming home stressed out from the day, you only need to catch his eyes and he seems to understand a little. Not what you’re going through, but what could help.

✧ Pressing a hot mug of your favourite drink into your hand, he asks you what happened and listens well. Gives advice if you want it, and listens to your venting if he doesn’t.

✧ No matter what the conversation will end with you in each other’s arms - simply loving each other.

✧ “I’m always here for you, darling.”

𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐛𝐨

✧ Bilbo manages to create a mix of reliability and spontaneity in your relationship together.

✧ You know he will always be there for the important things. He’ll comfort you as you cry, he’ll be there when you wake up (if not immediately then soon), and he’ll be there should you ever simply ask.

✧ And, of course, you’ll know he does that because he loves you.

✧ These are the unquestioning things within your relationship.

✧ What he makes you guess at or surprises you with, delighting in hearing your shocked laughs, are small things that show his love to you.

✧ Such as how on earth he managed to construct a flower bed made with your favourite flowers in only a day (nevermind that he pass them to you or present them as a woven crown).

✧ Or where the jewellery he’s presented you, a necklace with a locket and gems, has been made.

✧ There’s smaller acts of spontaneity as well, such as Bilbo waking you up with the smell of fresh pastries and breakfast.

✧ He smiles as you look at him with sleepy but adoring eyes, and waits for a second for you to begin to wake up.

✧ “Good morning, my love.”

A/N : Are two of these characters both using darling? Yes. Do I regret this? Not at all. They'd both call you darling. Also, can people tell me if my first divider looks right? On laptop it's white for some reason, even though it's supposed to be a transparent file...

Anyway, hopefully you've enjoyed this! And nice to briefly pop back to you guys again! A new fandom might be joining my writing list in the future... so you've (possibly) got that to look forward too.

« masterlist » thank you for reading *･༓˚✧ Taglist : @celestialhole / @starwars2222 / @withasideofmeg / @nilintakan / @wordbunch / @killermarionette / @bespectacledhuman / @howling-medic / @deannie13 / @paigemackenzie0206 / @permanently-nothere / @fern-reads / @recordofragnarokfan2 / @themuseinthewoods / @satans-bitch / @Staygoldsquatchling02 / @luckymentalityunknown / @fleurdemiel-145 / @northernwing / @seduseamedusa / @stormchaser819 / @magicwonderdreamfantasy ✧ wish to join the taglist?

[th0rnback]

Do you have any headcanons that tend to translate into your writing?

Oooooo, that is a good'un. I’ve been in this fandom so long sometimes I forget what is headcanon and what’s canon 🫠

Buuuuut, I’m sure some of these might be shared with lots of folks, yet off the top of my head:

⭕Edward wears gloves not so much to hide his automail, but to soften it. Metal joints pinch. He learned this the hard way when shaking someone’s hand. It genuinely upset/embarrassed/made him self conscious for a while after that event. ⭕Alphonse always like the barn cats since he was small, yet moreso after Trisha’s death. He liked to entice them into the house of an evening for the warmth and comfort. The house didn’t feel quiet so empty when filled with a patter of paws or rumbling purrs.

⭕Ed’s an ugly crier and he is SUPER self aware of this fact, while he is trying to ‘keep a stiff upper lip’ he also has the worse poker face known to mankind (which I guess can be canon? Because the sweet bean was a mess at Trisha’s funeral, howling at the sky with snot) ⭕Al, even when human and back when kids, is the better liar. He’s got a good poker face (even without the helm) and the street cred of polite sweetness.

⭕Roy hides it well and because irony is key: Roy gets anxious around horses. As a kid a mounted MP’s horse nipped him and Chris presumed this is why he is still Not A Fan of the hooved beasts…. In reality, watching a group of Ishvalan’s get trampled when the cavalry arrived on scene made him realize how terrifyingly powerful such animals are (cue his anxiety over FoM!Ed being so tiny around an animal with hooves bigger than the kids skull)   ⭕ Riza doesn't like being ignored. She can deal with it, but it does make her hackles rise. There is something about being so blankly disregarded she finds as rude yet know, deep known, its because she spent too much of her youth with a father who barely spared her a glance, absorbed in his work... until he suddenly was like ''yo lovely daughter, need to borrow that skin on your back for a second'' ⭕Riza is very good at leg sweeping, hip checking, or just thwacking the back of Roy's knees because when he came to live as her father's apprentice at their crumbling rural manor house, she took great joy tripping him up in the corridors to the point it became a game.

⭕Havoc was nominated for first aider training for their unit. He drew the short straw. Hated every second of the weekend long training he got shoved into. The team make frequent jokes they were hoping to improve his experience, as his dating life is piss-poor and doing CPR would be is only form of ‘kissing’.

⭕ Riza’s a tea-a-holic (which could be canon? Girl be drinking tea in a lot of manga panels). She likes tea due to the variety of scents and finds the method of brewing/preparing it as a form of decompression/keeps her mind blank and hands busy because there are only many times she can dismantling and cleaning her service weapons to a pristine condition before someone presumes she has OCD.

⭕Roy isn’t very good with the scent of fatty meat being cooked. He can deal with it, but sometimes, on The Bad Days™the scent can send him reeling. (This was mostly inspired given how my paternal grandfather was a tank-man during ww2 and my uncle had the horrors of playing with flame throwers in other dumb-mens-wars and neither of them could cope with the smell of smoked bacon of fat-heavy meat).

⭕Fuery is blind AF without his glasses…. Probably me projecting like hell as poor sighted dweeb with thick glasses and also how I HATE that characters in fiction get their glasses off and can FUNCTION DURING CHAOS??? LIKE, NO. EVERYTHING IS BLURRY AND SCARY. MATE, I ONCE LOST MY GLASSES IN THE AMAZING MAZE OF MAIZE AND I FELT LIKE I WAS IN THE BLAIR WITCH PROJECT FIGHTING FOR MY LIFE. Also, during a paintball match, I had to forgo my glasses because the eye protective googles didn’t like me wearing them, so I was just blindly taking people out and running into trees, but that’s another story. Rant over.

⭕Maes & Gracia had experienced pregnancy loss before they finally had Elicia: its why the two of them cherish her so much

Annnnnd... I'll stop. Otherwise we are gonna end up with a sickeningly large amount and I fear I'll bore you. 💖

[sequinsmile-x]

Waltzing Back Into Rekindled Flames

It’s only when she sees him at the funeral that she realises she should have expected it. 

Emily and Aaron reconnect after the loss of a friend.

-x-

Hi besties,

First off, I know I promised fluff, but the idea of writing this 'other version' of Will's funeral with an older, more canon compliant Hotchniss, wouldn't leave my brain so here we are.

There are purposely some similarities to the one I posted the other day, and a lot of parallels. It was interesting to explore/write how different Emily's grief would be when she's by herself in comparison to having her family around her, and how joy can be found in even the darkest of times <3

There will be some actual fluff over the weekend to make up for all the sadness I've written recently!

Again, no spoilers for CME beyond the stuff around Will. Actually it completely disregards most of it's existence tbh.

As always, let me know what you think , I'd love to know what you think of this in comparison to the other fic <3

-x-

Warnings: Loss/Grief

Words: 4k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

It starts with a phone call in the middle of the night. 

It tears her from sleep, makes her groan as she rolls over in bed, her pillow hugged against her chest as she sits up. She’s worried at first that it’s another case, but when she sees JJ’s name flashing on her phone, she knows there’s only one reason she’d be calling at 3 am. She takes a deep breath, lets it fan the flames of grief in her chest, the smoke of it catching in her throat, making it hard to breathe, and then she answers the call.

“JJ, hi.”

“Hi Em,” JJ replies, her shaking, “It…it happened about an hour ago,” she chokes on a sound Emily can’t name, something between a sob and a disbeliving laugh, the thought that Will, her husband and the father of her children, was gone almost absurd even though he’d been sick for a while, “He’s…he died.” 

Emily has to close her eyes, desperate to hold back her tears even though she’s alone and no one will see them, determined to be whatever her friend needed her to be. She wished more than anything that she could fix it, that she could stop Will from getting sick in the first place, stop him from realising he was sick too late for treatment to work. She wanted to save her friend from the heartache of losing the person she thought she was going to spend her life with, the road ahead scattered with potholes and cracks of memories turned sad and sour that she could fall into at any given time. 

“I’m so sorry, is there anything I can do?” 

JJ sucks in a breath and Emily can hear it catch in her chest, “No, thank you. I won’t be in work for a little while.” 

“Please don’t worry about work,” she replies, “I’ll make sure it’s all handled. You take as much time as you need.” 

She’s itching to do something, to go over and help and cook for JJ and the boys, to do something that shows how much she loves them, but she knows she can’t, that she has to respect JJ’s wishes. So she does all that she can. She reminds JJ that she’s there for her, says she can call whenever she needs to, and she promises to check in a day or so. 

When she hangs up, her connection to her friend’s grief isn’t severed along with the call. It lingers in the air, making her pull the covers tighter around her as she tries and fails to fall back asleep, the weight of the loss of a man who she’d known for almost 20 years heavy on her chest. Eventually, she gets out of bed, abandoning the idea of sleep entirely as she walks through her house, the emptiness of it overwhelming, the silence oppressive as she feels more lonely than she has in a long time. The grief permeates all of it, finds every empty corner and shadow in her home to infiltrate it, rotting the foundations of the life she’d built - not the life she’d wanted, but the life she had - from the inside out. 

She makes a cup of tea and settles on the couch, switching on the TV to fill the silence with something other than all the sad things that were to come and the regrets that always made themselves known in times like these. 

She’d always wanted more than this. She’d wanted a family, wanted to be part of something bigger than herself and the job that she’d never truly wanted. There was too much politics in it for her liking, too much expectation, and people talking without ever actually saying something. Sometimes, she’d look in the mirror and see her mother staring back at her, and she wondered how, by spending her life trying to avoid being like her, she’d ended up more like her than she’d ever admit outloud. She’d thought about quitting more than once. Not just when she broke the rules to get Spencer out of prison, but countless times when it all felt too much. She’d never go through with it, though, because she felt a responsibility to the team, the promise she’d made to Aaron all those years ago to look after them for her weighing heavily on her shoulders. 

She sighs when she thinks of him, just like she always did, something she refused to call longing flooding her lungs as she tries to ignore how she feels about him, every missed opportunity a punch to the gut that would leave a long-lasting bruise. For years, she’d ignored it, told herself it was the close proximity and the amount of time they all spent together that had her infatuated with him. Even when the feelings followed her across an ocean, imprinting themselves in the walls of an apartment he never visited, she told herself it was nothing, that he was simply her friend. 

It was only when she abandoned the life she’d made for herself - her career, her boyfriend, the friends she’d made over there - just because he asked her to, that she finally admitted it to herself. When she could finally acknowledge that she loved him. It was almost beautiful in its tragedy, the stuff of poems and books that made her sad if she read them, the idea of him being the right person for her, but never in her life at the right time. Life and circumstance kept them apart even when they were right next to each other, and it felt like the true loss of her life that she’d never been with him, a relationship that had left her brokenhearted, even though they’d never even kissed. It made Will’s death even more tragic, JJ’s loss of him even crueller because somehow, in amongst everything, they’d found each other and made a life. Everything they’d been through something that made them stronger rather than tearing them apart. 

Emily watches the dark sky give way to dawn from her living room, the new day daring to start even though someone precious had died, the sun bright and indifferent as it rises over the horizon. 

___

It’s only when she sees him at the funeral that she realises she should have expected it. 

He hadn’t come to Krystal’s because of COVID, but she knew he’d spoken to Dave, that he’d sent flowers and his condolences, and she remembered being disappointed. Not in him, because she knew his hands were tied, but because she hadn’t had the chance to see him. 

Now she can see him with Jack standing on his right - taller than his father - it makes her heart skip a beat, a blush that feels inappropriate for a funeral spreading across her cheeks and down her chest. Jack spots her first. He walks over and pulls her into a hug, and she can’t believe that this is the little boy she’d once watched at his mother’s funeral in this very graveyard, all grown up and taller than her, as he wraps her in an embrace that is much stronger than she remembered.

“Emily,” he says, smiling as he pulls back - his father’s smile - scrunching his nose up a little, “I’d say it’s good to see you, but given the circumstances…” 

She chokes on a dry laugh, “It’s good to see you too, Jack,” she says, looking him up and down, “You’ve really grown up.” 

He hums and nods, “Dad always says he’ll wonder if I’ll ever stop getting taller.”

“Hopefully you do soon,” Aaron says as he joins them, patting his son’s shoulder, “Otherwise you’ll have to bend down to get into your dorm,” he smiles when Jack rolls his eyes, but then turns his attention to Emily, “Hi Emily.” 

“Hi,” she says, unsure what to do at first, whether she should hug him, but then he hugs her, his embrace fiercer than that of his sons, and he squeezes her, “I didn’t realise you guys were coming.” 

Aaron’s smile is tight when he pulls back, and he nods over to JJ and the boys, “It would have felt wrong if we didn’t.” 

Jack looks back and forth between them, something sparking in his eyes, and then he clears his throat, drawing their attention away from each other, “I’m going to say hi to Henry and Michael.” 

“Okay, thanks, buddy,” Aaron says, his smile proud as Jack walks away, “He’s busy with finals, but he wanted to come to support Henry and Michael - said he knows what it’s like to lose a parent.” 

She swallows thickly, pushing down sadness she isn’t sure she’s allowed to feel, “That’s sweet,” she says, looking over at the boys, smiling sadly when Jack pulls Henry into a hug, “He’s still that sweet boy he always was,” she looks back at Aaron, “Just in giant form,” she jokes, and he laugh, his laugh every bit as goofy and beautiful as she remembered, “Where does he go to college?” 

“Georgetown,” he replies, and she gasps in surprise, shaking her head in disbelief. 

“He’s been in DC for the last two years? He should have reached out,” she says, sharp disappointment stabbing her heart at the thought that he’d been here, that they’d both been here and she hadn’t known, “You both should have.”

He nods, his hands in his pockets as he avoids her eye contact, “I told him to, but he said he didn’t want to disturb you,” he clears his throat, “Neither one of us wanted to.” 

She’s about to reply, to tell him that he’d never disturb her, that she wanted him in her life, but the funeral director lets them know it’s about to begin, and she’s interrupted. The day passes by in a blur and tearful eulogies, and she can’t believe how long it’s been since they all stood in the same graveyard for Haley’s funeral. The wake is at JJ’s house, it’s beautiful and sad, and Will’s absence is felt sharply, his ghost lingering in every corner and in the sad smiles of his sons. 

When it’s time to leave, when Aaron and Jack say their goodbyes to her, their hugs linger a little longer this time, a promise she doesn’t believe that they’ll keep in touch passing between them like sweet candy. 

She thinks thats it, that she won’t see Aaron again, but then he shows up on her doorstep two weeks later, his hands in his pockets and his smile nervous as she opens her front door, a disbelieving laugh caught in her throat.

“Aaron?”

“Hi,” he replies, “Can I come in?” 

She nods, stepping back to let him into her house. “How did you know where I live?” 

“Dave,” he replies, his smile turning into a smirk, and she rolls her eyes, replaying every comment Dave had made over the last couple of weeks in her head.

“It’s inappropriate to make eyes at someone at a funeral, you know.” 

“If you started dating now, I’d technically still win the bet from years ago since I chose the latest date.” 

He’d always been insistent that they should give it a go, no matter how much time had passed, no matter how unlikely it seemed that it would work out. 

“Of course, he did,” she grumbles, crossing her arms over her chest, the feel of the soft cotton material reminding her she’s in her pjyamas. She swallows thickly, looking down at the floor between them, feeling more anxious than she thinks she has in years, “How can I help?” 

“I came here to ask you on a date,” he says bluntly, the honesty of it making her look up so quickly that it twinges her neck, and she chuckles, shaking her head at him.

“Aaron…we live in different states,” she says, dangerous hope flooding her chest, taking up all the space she’d had waiting for him for years. 

He steps towards her, his hands in his pockets as if he were trying everything not to reach for her. “I’m moving back. Jack’s here… you’re here. I don’t know why I didn’t do it sooner,” he laughs at himself and shakes his head. “Jack said I’m an idiot for not asking you out years ago.” 

“Jack…Jack is okay with this?” 

Aaron nods, “Apparently the way we were looking at each other at the funeral was his final straw,” he says, his cheeks going pink with embarrassment that must be catching because she feels hers burning too, “As soon as we got in the car he asked me why I was still pretending I wasn’t in love with you.” 

The admission makes her gasp, the casual nature of it soft and sweet and everything she’d waited for years for. 

“Aaron-”

“This kind of thing, losing someone, makes you think, you know? And the only thing I keep thinking about is how much I wish I’d asked you out years ago,” he says, seemingly still trying to talk her into something she’d wanted for long before he’d asked, “And Will was so young still, and I know he’d give anything to still be here with JJ and the boys, and I kept thinking what I want to do with the rest of my life, and you kept popping into my head.”

“Aaron-”

“So I want to know if you’ll go on a date with me, because life is too short-”

She cuts him off with a kiss. She doesn’t think about it, doesn’t consider that it’s their first kiss, and she smiles when she pulls back breathless, one hand on his cheek and the other on her lips, chasing the feel of his lips against hers.

“Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?”

He laughs and presses his  forehead against hers, “No, I can safely say I’ve never been accused of that once in my life.” 

She smiles, nudging her nose against his, “I think it goes without saying, I’d love to go on that date.” 

He leans in to kiss her, taking the lead this time as he holds her close, his arms around her back, and she sighs into it, wondering how so many things had changed so quickly.

___

Considering it took them so long to make it here, things move quickly between them. 

Aaron moves back to DC and gets a small apartment, seemingly aware that, even as he signed the lease, he wouldn’t be spending much time there. He’s at her place more often than not, often letting himself in with the key she’d given him on their second date and making her dinner when she’s on her way home from work.

It’s been two months, two glorious, happy months, when she admits to herself that she has to tell the team about them. They’d figured out that she was with someone, but she hadn’t told them it was Aaron, concern making her belly flip whenever she thought about it, whenever she thought about telling JJ. She was back at work now, she had been for weeks, and she was trying her best to pretend everything was okay, like she wasn’t surrounded by behavioural profilers who all knew and loved her husband. Emily didn’t want to add to her sadness, to rub the happiness she’d gained in her face, so she avoided any conversation about her love life, even when JJ herself joined in on the team's teasing about her secret partner, her smile never quite reaching her eyes. 

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” 

She tilts her head to look up at Aaron, unaware that she’d been lost in thought in the safety of his embrace until he runs his hand up and down her arm, and she sighs, shifting away from him just enough to look at him, unsure how to put it into words.

“I think it’s time I told the team about us.”

He smiles coyly, tucking some of her hair behind her ear, “If you were anyone else, I think I’d be offended by how sad you sound at the idea.” He quips, and she laughs, shaking her head at him. She reaches out for his hand and links their fingers together, chasing his comfort and warmth even though he’s sitting right next to her, “Tell me what you’re thinking, Em.” 

“I…” she trails off and swallows thickly, pushing years, decades, worth of things she’d never been able to say back down into her chest, forcing them into boxes she’d locked them in when she told herself that this, that they, would never happen. She smiles tightly at him, squeezes his hand to feel his fingers between hers, something she’d thought about more often than she’d care to admit, something her imagination had never come close to getting right, “I feel guilty.” 

“Because of us?” He asks as he rubs his thumb back and forth over her pulse in her wrist, her life force thrumming beneath his calloused skin, proof that despite everything, they’d somehow made it here. 

She hums, grateful that he doesn’t look offended, that he understands, because of course he does, and she wonders if there is any point in keeping everything she feels locked up tight in boxes she’d lost the keys to. He probably already knew anyway because he felt the same way and had for so long that it was heartbreaking. In another life, where they both made different choices, she wondered what would have happened. If they’d have had the kids she’d always longed for but never got to have, if they’d have loved each other through everything and held steady simply because they had each other. 

She shakes off the thought, literally shakes her head, because there was no use in getting lost in the what-ifs and should-have-beens. If Will’s death had taught her anything, it was that life was short, that time would pass regardless of whether you used it well or not. Aaron was right here with her now, his hand in hers and his smile and his belly softer than she remembered, and she didn’t want to waste any more time than they already had. 

“I feel bad that we managed to get our act together because Will died. If you hadn’t come into town for the funeral…I feel guilty for being so happy when JJ has lost the man she loves.” 

“It’s not your fault how things worked out,” he says, leaning in to kiss her forehead, warmth spreading out from the spot where his lips had touched through her entire body. “JJ will know that. Grief is…complicated,” he says, running his fingers through her hair, and she wishes he could have known what it felt like when she was younger. When it was softer and less coarse, when it hadn’t aged like the rest of her, “Even if she doesn’t get it at first, she will.” 

Emily hums and tucks herself up against him, taking the opportunity to breathe in everything she never thought she’d get a chance to know. 

“I love you,” she says, the admission no less incredible than the first time she’d said it to him, pressed against his bare chest in her bed on the evening of their first date. 

He kisses the top of her head before he rests his cheek there, “I love you, too.” 

___

It takes her another week to pluck up the courage, and she decides to tell JJ first. 

She’s nervous when she stands on her doorstep, a bottle of wine in hand, but she does her best to hide it when JJ invites her in. She pretends it’s any other night where they’ve sat on her couch drinking wine together. It’s the first time they’ve done it since Will died, and Emily feels his absence sharply. He used to bring them food - would make them a huge meal before he disappeared upstairs with the boys, their laughter as they played a video game filtering down the stairs, punctuating any conversation she and JJ were having. 

She knows it’s just a taster of what JJ felt every day, a tiny insight into how Will lingered in every corner of this house, and it makes her ache, makes her anxiety roll in her stomach again. 

“I need to tell you something,” she says eventually, refilling their wine glasses, smiling tightly as JJ looks at her curiously, a flash of her usual self peeking out from behind the mask of grief she’d been wearing for close to three months now, “I’m seeing someone.” 

JJ smiles at her and raises an eyebrow, “We all know that, Em. We just don’t know who.” 

“It’s…” She clears her throat, knowing this would somehow make it more real. That it would burst the perfect, happy bubble she and Aaron had been living in for two months, but she wants to. She wants to invite everyone else in, to finally be happy and allow her friends to bear witness to it. “It’s Aaron. I’m seeing Aaron.”

“Our Aaron?” JJ asks, her eyebrows shooting up her forehead, “Hotch?” She confirms, and Emily nods, sipping her wine as JJ visibly processes it, her eyes wide as she stares at her, “How…when?” 

Emily sighs, knowing this would be the hard bit to swallow, “A couple of weeks after the funeral, he came to see me to ask me on a date. We’ve been together ever since.” 

JJ stares at her again, and for a moment Emily thinks she’s going to yell or cry or throw her out, but then she laughs. A full-bodied laugh that shocks her as much as it does Emily, and it has her bending over, her hand on her belly as it aches because she hasn’t laughed like it in months. 

“I’m sorry,” she says, shaking her head, wiping tears that are a mix of tears of joy and sadness from her cheeks, “It’s just…Will was always so sure you two should have been together.” 

Emily furrows her brow, “He was?” 

JJ nods, her laugh turning into a sob as he places her hand on her chest before she covers her mouth, capturing the sound before it can escape, “Yeah, he always told me you’d figure it out eventually,” she shakes her head and wipes a tear from her cheek, her wedding ring catching in the low light in the room, “I think he’d get a real kick out of knowing you two finally figured it out because of his funeral.” 

Emily reaches out for her, grabbing her hand and squeezing, a parallel of a moment a lifetime ago when Penelope was in surgery and JJ was keeping her relationship with Will a secret from them all. They were all so young then, so beautifully ignorant of all that was to come, and she was glad of it. Glad that they would have no idea of the pain and suffering they’d endure, because she knew it wouldn’t have changed anything JJ did, that she wouldn’t have given up the time she had with Will to avoid this feeling now. 

“JJ…”

“I’m happy for you, Em,” she says, squeezing her hand, her eyes shining at her as she presses her lips together to stop them from shaking, “I’m happy for both of you. God knows if two people on this earth deserve happiness, it’s you and Hotch,” she chokes on a sound between a sob and a laugh, “And I like to think Will, wherever he is, is delighted to know he’s somewhat responsible for it.”

Emily wasn’t sure what she believed in, whether she thought there was life after death or not, but she hoped that it was real. She hoped that Will had better than she had when she’d died, that he wasn’t just alone in the dark, and that eventually she’d have better too. She liked to think Will was somewhere with his Dad, that he’d got to tell him that he’d solved the case he’d never been able to, that he’d found happiness with the love of his life and had two beautiful sons. 

And she liked to think that maybe, just maybe, he was smiling at the thought of her and Aaron finding happiness together after all this time.

“Yeah,” she says, squeezing her friend's hand again, tears pressing at the back of her eyes, “Me too.” 

[shizuturnspages]

UR WRITING IS SOOOOO YUMMY I LOVE IT SO MUCH!!!

can i pls get a yan ayato with a foreigner reader (preferably from mondstat :D)🫶

Awh, I'm so glad you love my writing 🥰

A Bloom Far From Home

Synopsis: You’re a foreigner in Inazuma, visiting from Mondstadt, seeking something new, a fresh adventure. You didn’t expect to meet someone like Kamisato Ayato, the Head of the Kamisato Clan, a man of power, grace, and intrigue. But your presence captures his attention in a way no one else’s ever has. His politeness is captivating, his charm undeniable, and it doesn’t take long before you find yourself in his grasp—whether you want to be there or not. Pairing: Yandere Ayato x Foreigner Reader of Monstadt

The first time Ayato saw you, he knew. This one was different. You were foreign—obviously so—your clothes marked with the free-spirited cuts and colours of Mondstadt, your manner too relaxed, too genuine. In a sea of careful masks and etiquette, you were a wildflower from across the sea, untamed and breathtaking.

It wasn’t long before you caught his attention in more ways than just appearances. You laughed too freely. You spoke your mind without a second thought. You trusted people far too easily in the dangerous world of Inazuma.

It was adorable.

It was stupid.

It was dangerous.

And it made Ayato want to lock you away before anyone else even thought about stealing you from him.

You had arrived in Inazuma for some "soul-searching," you told him once, smiling brightly over tea. Ayato smiled too, ever the perfect nobleman, but his mind was elsewhere—imagining you caged like a delicate bird, imagining your voice reserved only for him, your trust given solely to him.

You thought the Kamisato Clan’s head was kind. You thought he was generous to offer you a place to stay in the estate while you "found your footing" in this unfamiliar land. You had no idea he had engineered every meeting, every encounter, every kind gesture to lead you right into his waiting hands.

It began with small conversations, his voice calm, his smile always a little too smooth. He was interested in your stories, the way you spoke of Mondstadt’s freedom and its light-hearted ways. He envied that freedom, though he would never admit it aloud.

He’d find himself lingering near you, just to hear you talk about the winds of Mondstadt, about the songs of the Anemo Archon, about the lush landscapes and the open skies. He loved the way your eyes would light up as you described the place you came from, a place of joy and lightheartedness, a place that was so different from Inazuma.

“You speak of Mondstadt as if you left your heart there,” Ayato observed one evening as you sat together in the garden of the Kamisato Estate. The sunset painted the sky in hues of pink and purple, but it seemed to pale in comparison to the way you spoke of your homeland.

“It’s not that,” you responded, your voice light but a hint of longing in your tone. “I love it here in Inazuma, but there’s something about Mondstadt that feels like home. I guess I’m just homesick.”

Ayato’s smile faltered for just a moment, but it quickly returned. “It’s rare to see someone so… openly attached to their homeland,” he remarked, leaning in closer, eyes sharp with unspoken intent. “But I suppose that’s part of what makes you so… intriguing.”

You shifted uncomfortably, the weight of his gaze making you feel as if you were standing on the edge of a precipice. There was something in his eyes, something dark that you couldn’t quite place. But Ayato was always polite, always composed. So, you laughed it off, turning your gaze back to the garden.

“I just enjoy the freedom that comes with being from Mondstadt,” you explained, trying to keep the conversation light. “The winds, the way the city feels like it’s alive. I guess I’ve always felt like I could go anywhere, do anything.”

Ayato’s eyes darkened for a brief moment, his fingers tightening around his tea cup. He had always admired freedom in others—after all, it was something he could never afford himself. But hearing you speak of it so casually, as though it was a given, stirred something possessive within him.

“And yet,” he began, voice low and almost gentle, “here you are, far from home, in a land that demands so much. Do you not fear losing yourself in this place? In a place where everything can feel like it’s out of your control?”

You looked at him curiously, but before you could respond, Ayato was already standing, moving around the table with a fluid grace that only added to his intimidating presence.

He crouched down beside you, his fingers brushing lightly against your wrist in a way that felt too intimate for just a passing moment. “You are so far from home, yet so close to me,” he whispered, his voice laced with an unspoken promise. “Would you not stay here? Let me show you what it means to be with someone who can truly understand you, who can offer you the same protection that your homeland offers, if not more?”

You pulled your wrist back instinctively, though Ayato’s gaze never wavered. His expression remained soft, almost tender, but his eyes… his eyes betrayed something darker, something that made your heart race in a way that left you uneasy.

“I’m just visiting,” you said, trying to keep your tone light. “I don’t plan on staying long.”

Ayato smiled, a smile that sent a chill down your spine. “No. I don’t think you’ll be leaving anytime soon.”

The days that followed were a blur, a mixture of polite conversations and intense, almost unnerving glances. Ayato began to subtly, and sometimes not so subtly, insert himself into your daily life. The little things—he would show up unannounced at places you frequented, offer you gifts from his personal collection, and insist on walking you back to your accommodations.

It wasn’t just his presence that became overwhelming, but his attentiveness. His ability to read you as if you were an open book. The way he’d ask questions about your past, your family, the friends you left behind in Mondstadt, and how he seemed to absorb every detail. It was as if he were collecting pieces of you, as if you were already his, and he was merely biding his time until he could claim you fully.

But it was when you tried to push back, to assert your own will, that you saw the cracks in Ayato’s composed exterior.

“I’m not staying forever, Ayato,” you told him one evening, feeling the weight of his gaze like a heavy stone on your chest. “I have my life back home. My friends. My family.”

Ayato’s expression hardened for the briefest of moments, his lips pulling into a thin, tight line. “But you belong to me now,” he said softly, his tone unyielding, though his voice didn’t raise in anger. Instead, there was something even more dangerous in his calm words. “Whether you want to or not, you are mine.”

His fingers brushed against your cheek, the touch soft, but the command in his voice unmistakable.

“You may think you can leave, but I’ll make sure you never do.”

The days turned into weeks, and the sense of unease in your chest grew, but Ayato never once showed any signs of backing down. You had become a part of his world now, and the more you tried to pull away, the closer he came. He was a storm—calm on the surface, but beneath it, something dark, something possessive, constantly simmering.

In the end, you realised that Ayato was not the man who would let you go. Not when you were his, no matter how far you tried to run.

He would make sure of that.

[cressidagrey]

I’m sorry that this is going to be long.

So I have been going back and forth on whether to post this anon (like I usually do) or with my user name. I made an agreement with myself at the start of 2025 to start coming off anon more when I message authors about my love of their work. So ummm Hello!

I first stumbled on your work on Wattpad with the “Stay Through It All” series, then on AO3 with the “Getaway Car”, then on Tumblr with “The Queen of Romantasy and the Race Car Prince”. As you can see I have been on a journey through the apps/sites finding your stories along the way. It has been a joy to see what you will create next.

In March something told me (whether that was a gut instinct or God trying to guild me, I have no clue) to go on tumblr and there at the top of my Home page was the 1st chapter of “White Horse”. At the time I didn’t know why checking your page became the first thing I did when I came on the site until Chapter 4 : June 2023. It was near the end of chapter that Belle went to her fathers grave. I won’t lie that after I finished the chapter I had to take a step back and process what I just read and just feel.

You see in December of 2024 my dads cancer diagnoses went from stage 3 to stage 4. We were told that we would have 6 months to a year with him. Instead I only got 2 weeks and he passed in his sleep mid January 2025. The last lucid conversation I had with him was about us clearing the air about decisions he had made for me growing up that hurt me emotionally as he had never explained why he did so. Some examples: 1. I had the opportunity to tour with a theater company for 2 years as child actor (I was 11/12 at the time) all over the USA and Canada. When told about my schooling being moved to online/homeschooling my dad had a fit and said that they would need to cast someone else. 2. During my senior year of High School I had no clue what I wanted to with my life. I was good at a lot of things but nothing I was really great at or just made sense. 3 of my cousins were in the same boat. Our grandparents decided that they would pay for the 4 of us to backpack after graduation for a year to 18 months and hopefully we would have some idea of what we wanted to do when we returned. My dad hated this idea and gave me an ultimatum that lead to me not going with them. Now those 2 things and others have stuck with me still and I’m now in my mid thirties. I just wanted to understand why.

Now as you can guess I never got those answers. It has been festering like an opened wound. Reading White Horse has been helping me grieve and heal that wound. I’ve been slowly realizing that while I’ll never forget the pain and what was done, I can slowly forgive. So thank you. From the bottom of heart, thank you! I don’t know if you’ll see this, let alone even read it but I had to thank you. I also wanted to say take your time with writing. Balancing this and Uni is amazing just please don’t burn yourself out! You have an amazing way with words and storytelling that if you ever decide to publish your own book I will happily purchase it. I hope you are doing well and staying hydrated. If you have gotten this far, well, thank you for reading and listening.

Thank you so, so much for trusting me with this. Truly — from the bottom of my heart — I’m honored that anything I wrote could be a small piece of your healing. I'm incredibly sorry for everything you’ve been through. Grief is so heavy, especially when it’s layered with complicated love, disappointment, and unanswered questions.

Please know that your message means the absolute world to me.

I’m so proud of you for allowing yourself the grace to grieve, to feel, and to slowly move toward forgiveness — not for anyone else, but for yourself. 💛

Sending you so much love and strength. Always.

[a-grim-thin-hope]

I don't know if this is something any of my readers (if they are on tumblr or follow me or otherwise) are concerned about, but I'd like to state once and for all that I won't be locking my fics on Ao3. There's a variety of reasons but the primary are--well, you can't unscrew the pooch and everything on there is already taken. Secondly, I've been a guest reader for nearly six years or around there. The position I was in at home didn't allow me to create an account or use my email address, and being able to read fics for free meant so much to me, especially when they were so high quality and so entertaining. They gave me literal hours of comfort, so the idea of that being removed for people in my same situation is sobering. I've had so many guests tell me they loved my work, which is so honouring, and half of my kudos are from them. I don't want to take that away. AI and scrapers are unfortunately going to be a part of our lives now, and only increasingly so as technology improves. Writing fanfic has always been SOLELY for my own enjoyment and improvement, and with how intertwined our lives and interactions are with the Internet, I don't really believe that you can keep anything perfectly private and secure. I understood that risk, and though I'm angry at the thought that my hard work and original ideas have been taken just to be recycled and ruined, it's also not something I can really change. The only control I have is whether or not I want to keep indiscriminately sharing something that brings me joy to do and has brought me joy to experience. And I do.