#marshmallow page 2

[januaryembrs]

NEARLY BROUGHT ME TO MY KNEES | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader [2]

Description: FIVE times Spencer thinks he might like you + the ONE time he knows.

Word length: 20k

Trigger Warnings: death, murder, Lauren arc, spencer's addiction mentioned, Diana's schizophrenia mentioned, vomit, alcohol, blood, usual criminal mind warnings. mommy AND daddy issues in the prentiss family.

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‘so sweet with a mean streak

nearly brought me to my knees.’

The one where he tries flirting

Emily tutted at her as the girl blindly shoved the Lucky Charms in her mouth, her tongue staining a gross blue-green colour from the additives as she read from a battered copy of Anna Karenina. Bugsy had been living with her for just two weeks now, since her impromptu fleeing from the altar, and Emily’s certainly had a good insight into the life of the twenty three year old. 

Yes, it was her birthday next week. No, she didn’t act her age anymore than she had at twenty. 

“Bug, slow down.” Emily urged, a rogue orange marshmallow dribbling down her chin as she plunged the spoon in before she’d even swallowed the last mouthful, “You get sick when you eat too fast,” 

Bugsy waved her off with the utensil, not even ripping her eyes away from the page in front of her, scooping up the marshmallow with the side of her finger and popping it into her mouth. 

Emily rolled her eyes, downing a few sips of her coffee and heading for the stairs, knowing her ride would be here any moment and she still had yet to change her shirt from the one she’d spilled toothpaste down not ten minutes earlier. 

“Niko needs breakfast when you’re done,” The older of the two shouted down to the breakfast table, a streak of tabby grey running under her feet at the sound of food. Bugsy had insisted she bring her new feline friend into Emily’s apartment, and as much as she’d hated the way she nearly tripped over the chubby bastard almost every day they’d been here, she certainly had a fondness for him. 

Bugsy hummed in acknowledgement, though she scraped the edges of her bowl clean by the time the cat in question hopped up onto the counter in search of her leftover milk. 

“This is not for you, you have too much already,” She scolded, shovelling the last few sugary pieces of cereal into her mouth right as the door knocked. 

She dogeared her page, gulping down a quick sip of Emily’s coffee, cringing when she caught it was much too strong for her liking, and heading for the door, her sister yelling to her again. 

“Bug, can you get that- wait- are you wearing pants?” 

She certainly wasn’t, having rolled straight out of bed in a pyjama shirt and underwear, and towards the promise of breakfast, nor as she swung the front door to the apartment open before Emily had a chance to rush down the stairs.

Spencer could have laughed when he saw her, all too reminiscent of the first time he’d met her. The boxers that hugged her legs beneath a large top he was entirely convinced was not hers, though her face lit up in excitement to see him. 

“Good morning!” He thrust a coffee to-go into her hand, still warm even from where it had been jostled around in his car.

“You’re my saviour,” She grinned, sipping on the sweet beverage with bright eyes, “Cute sweater vest-” 

She was quickly manhandled behind the door by two firm hands, Emily’s face enraged as she glared down at her sister where she was now out of sight from the doctor. 

“What did I tell you about wearing pants? Huh? You nearly gave Mrs Jensen a heart attack last week,” Emily hissed, as Bugsy shrugged, remembering the look of horror the old woman across the hall had given her when she’d taken the trash out in a hoodie and booty shorts.

“It’s Spencer,” She poked her head around the door, despite Emily’s shoving, like she was taming a wild animal, “You don’t mind, do you?”

He shook his head, an amused and easy smile on his face as he watched the sisters bicker, not entirely unlike the way he and Emily tended to pick at one another. 

“Not at all; I agree pants are loathable,” And he wasn’t lying. He tried to go for looser fitting trousers or sweat pants, hating the way the tight fabrics restricted his legs, rubbed his skin, making him want to itch and squirm inside his body. 

“Don’t you start,” Emily pointed at him, huffing as she stepped out of the apartment, “You know she gets all worked up and weird on sugar,” 

“Hey, I’m the last person to deny someone a coffee,” He replied, and the two turned to head back to his car, not before he threw the younger woman a look over his shoulder and a wave. 

“Go save the world, kiddos.” She waved back, sipping her coffee indeed with bare legs that would have a nun blushing, “Curfews at nine, Doctor Reid, I expect both of you home for dinner!” She nudged the door closed with her hip before Niko could run out after Emily, and Spencer chuckled to himself, shaking his head. 

“See, told you,” Emily sniggered, rolling her eyes, “Weird,” 

Though that wasn’t quite the word he’d have used. 

–

A killer, so far as they had been able to profile from the four bodies, was targeting women he picked up in night clubs in Atlanta. Most of the team, except Derek, had outgrown the clubbing scene, though Spencer didn’t quite think he’d ever been in it to start with. They all went to O’Keeffe’s usually once a month or so for a quick drink, but it was not big on his list. 

Rossi, Reid and Derek stared at the puddle of blood on the sidewalk, wincing as Emily leaned over the balcony, the five story drop making her tug her lip in between her teeth. 

This woman must have been terrified by something, someone, to see this as a better way out. 

“Maybe she fought back,” Hotch speculated behind her, drawing her attention back to the cleaning equipment scattered over the floor, entirely different to the last three crime scenes where they had been arranged neatly into a triangle, “And when Becky fought back, his routine was compromised, cause he knew the police would respond,”

“Or she could have jumped,” Emily responded gravely, shaking her head at the carpet beneath her boots, “Her nervous system is pumping adrenaline, her fight or flight response kicks in?” Both were equally plausible options, but not ones they had time to entirely pick over. 

“He’s struck two Fridays in a row, and if his routine’s been interrupted, it might compel him to strike again,” Hotch said, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, his brow furrowed deeper than it usually was. 

“It’s Saturday, the clubs will be packed tonight,” Emily replied, her eyes sad, worried. 

“Take a look at the classes the Unsub might have taken, we need to generate a suspect pool as soon as possible,” Her boss ordered, and she nodded heading for the door before she stopped, looking at him with a grimace he didn’t quite understand, “What is it?”

“Bugs-my sister used to work as a shot girl in a club.” She said after a moment of thought, “She could smell a rat from a mile away; said most girls who work in bars get this sixth sense about guys with bad intentions, so they know when to cut them off earlier than most,” 

Emily looked at him for a moment, and he seemed troubled, hesitant as she was to even tease the idea to him, before he sighed, rubbing a hand over his forehead. 

“Call her in.” He said through an outbreath, gritting his teeth the way he did when he was in between a rock and a hard place. 

Rock being another girl murdered by tonight with a huge opportunity to catch the guy in the act missed. Hard place being a twenty-three year old risking her skin for his team for a third time. He hated the paperwork she brought him, hated the look on her face the day Spencer and Derek had dragged her out of that chapel bloodied and shaken even more. 

“But she wears a vest under her clothes, and she stays with Reid and Morgan,” He reasoned, “And just purely scouting; if the Unsub strikes, she gets out there like any other civilian.”

Emily nodded, her hand routing through her pockets for her phone already, “Couldn’t agree more,” She said, hitting the call button with a sigh. She just hoped this time her baby sister wouldn’t be making any drastic calls like throwing herself in the Unsub’s way. Though, Emily knew Spencer wouldn’t let her take another hit for him ever again. Not after the way he’d seemed so distraught the moment she’d been dragged from that room, his eyes all but glistening with tears when he’d seen her on the bed, bloodied and beaten for his sake. 

No, Emily could stake her life on the fact Reid would go down swinging before that ever happened to her again. 

-

“When you think about the nature of serial crimes, it’s amazing there aren’t more predators in clubs,” Spencer said, hoping the pretty girls he’d managed to snag into conversation didn’t hear the way his voice stuttered. This was so far out of his depth, the entire club atmosphere suffocating him worse than any tight pants ever could. The music was too loud, the heavy bass making him wince, the air was too close, too warm, the bodies that kept shoving past him made him want to shower for two hours straight and then wash his hands as well. He’d turned down the drink Derek had offered him, knowing the exact amount of bacteria that swarmed the ice behind the bar, on the rims of the glasses, on the taps- 

Spencer was more than overwhelmed. And talking to beautiful women was not helping his flushed demeanour whatsoever. 

“I mean, excessive amounts of alcohol, countless opportunities for date rape drugs, not to mention suprisingly risky behaviour being pursued,” He counted off, his satchel strapped tightly to his side, “All right, so who wants a flyer?” The three women turned their nose up in awkward smiles, the tallest pushing past him with little more than an outright scoff, the other girl following her like lost dogs, “Nobody? Okay, all right,” He said, his face crestfallen at their reaction, though he wasn’t so unused to it. Girls tended to react that way when he spoke, his entire high school career had been the same. Infact, the only girl other than his co-workers who ever bothered to listen when he spoke was-

“I’ll take one,” A voice came from behind him, the same one he had incidentally been thinking of since they’d left Emily’s apartment, and he could already tell she was smiling before he whipped around to see her slinking through the crowd. 

He was ready to retort something clever, but felt his words congeal in his throat. He had thought, that day when he’d stopped the elevator and seen her in a sodden wedding dress, that he had seen her at her most beautiful. Yes, her makeup had been tracking down her face with her tears, her hair sticking to her cheeks, her expression weepy. But she had reminded him of a star, glistening with the rain, the water shimmering off the snow white fabric, it had taken his breath away then, even when she’d thrown her arms over his shoulders, as if he was the only thing that she could grab on to for safety. 

But that dress was nothing like the one she wore now. 

It was nothing extravagant, and truthfully he’d seen at least ten girls in this club alone that had gone way more lavish than she had bothered to on such short notice. But, Spencer couldn’t help but take her whole image in as she shoved her way in front of him, an easy smile on her face. 

“Beats boxers and pyjama shirts, huh?” She twirled cheekily, warming under his gaze that blinked heavily at her. The dress had been an old thing she’d bought for a frat party, when she’d felt particularly sorry for herself and was going out looking for a bonehead jock to take home. It fit her nicely, complimented the areas she wanted it to, hid the others. A good fail safe option for a last minute night out like this. Covered the kevlar vest Hotch and Emily had wrangled her into.

Not her finest moment, being jumped on by her older sister as her boss forced the bullet jacket over her head; the new girl, Jordan, staring in discomfort as she’d cursed both of them out colourfully for ruining her outfit, but the way Spencer seemed to gulp heavily made her smile wider. 

“You look…” He swallowed again, his fingers digging into the flyers in his hand. Hot. She looked hot. Hot enough that he felt his face flush with the same feeling, he hoped she couldn’t see the way he blushed beneath the club lights, “Beautiful,” He settled on, because ‘hot’ was an entirely Derek word to use. 

“So you keep telling me,” Bugsy preened under his gaze, grinning like she knew something he didn’t. Grabbing one of the flyers from his sweaty palms gently, she took a look at the general sketch, not noticing the way he had yet to tear his eyes off her, “Alright, this the guy?” 

“Yeah, we think he has a mark of some sort- like a birthmark or a scar over his left eyebrow,” He informed, corralling her towards where Morgan stood, his own eyes widening at the girl’s attire. 

They knew she was coming to help scout the scene, they didn’t realise she’d come so ready. Derek immediately felt stupid for doubting her. 

“Woah, did someone call the fire department, because you’re about to set the damn sprinklers off,” He teased, her face lighting up at the man she knew had a way of making her feel a million bucks every time he saw her. 

Emily said he had little sisters of his own, and maybe that was how he knew just what to say. He had many years of experience being the best big brother. 

“Oh, please, you guys spoil me,” She snickered, though her eyes scanned the crowd for a general scope of the club. Safe to say she did not miss the eight pm till four am shifts she used to pull, nor did she miss the drunk bodies swaying around her, the men who would get handsy, the girls who would get scrappy, “So, how’s it going?” 

“Not good, I gave the profile to one woman and she asked if I was the unsub,” Spencer sighed, running a hand through his rogue curls, the humidity of the stuffy bar making them tighten around his ears just that bit more. “How are you doing?” 

“Well, I gave out all my flyers,” Derek said smugly, though Spencer’s eyebrows raised, a smile teasing at his lips. 

“Oh yeah? How many phone numbers did you get?” Bugsy snorted at his words, looking between the men with a smirk. 

“None, I’m working the case here, kids,” Derek tutted, to which Spencer and Bugsy looked at eachother with identical doubt, flicking their gaze back to Morgan. He huffed, “Okay, four were offered, but I didn’t take any of them.” 

Spencer’s jaw dropped, face scrunching in confusion how Morgan was so charismatic with women even when he wasn’t trying. 

“Alright, I’m gonna go grab more flyers from the van. You,” He clapped a hand on Spencer’s shoulder, “Need to relax, man. Remind me to teach you the basics on picking up girls. And you,” Derek pointed to where Bugsy nodded patiently, “Make sure wonder boy doesn’t get eaten alive. And stay together.” 

She nodded again, watching him leave through the crowd; already a woman grabbed on his arm for his attention, where she watched him politely decline with one of those flirty smoulders he’d mastered. 

“I don’t get how he does it. I mean, I get he has the whole body of a God thing going for him,” Spencer sighed, as the two of them went back out into the crowd, scanning for a group of girls who looked particularly sober enough to listen, “But, he just has this way, you know. I’ll don’t think I’ll ever have the way,” 

“Don’t put yourself down like that,” She chastised, nudging him affectionately with her elbow, “You’re very beautiful yourself, you know? You don’t need some stupid way, you just need to be yourself,” 

She said it as if it was nothing, as if it hadn’t just hit him in the chest that she thought he was attractive, though he still remembered that first day they’d met when she assumed he was a stripper. 

His heart swelled in his chest. 

“You really think so?” He asked unsure, waiting for her to laugh in his face and tell him it had just been a tease, she was good at those. But she was never cruel. Never to him. He didn’t know why he’d expected it. 

“Absolutely! I’ve seen like three girls already giving you goo-goo eyes. Believe me, you got the looks,” She simpers, watching his eyes scan the crowd to look for the supposed culprits. 

“So, what, it’s my personality they don't like?” He asked, though he knew that was more than likely the case. He’d always been told he buzzed in people’s ears like a fly, like he was simply background noise the greater population wanted to tune out. 

He knew that would be it. It didn’t stop the small stab of hurt in his stomach however. 

“If someone doesn’t like your personality, that is a them problem, Spencer, not you,” Bugsy was quick to snap, the joking lessening in her eyes as she caught his dejected expression, “Girls like it when you talk about something you enjoy, something you know what you’re talking about. Which should be easy, since you know everything. What do you feel most comfortable talking about?” 

“Statistics,” He said with a nod, to which she looked at him fondly.

“Okay, we have statistics as a backup option. Anything else?” She looked at him, the light bouncing off her eyes in a way that had him pause to think. 

“Magic?” He offered, and she smiled even wider, if that was even possible. 

“Magic! Perfect, girls love feeling magical,” She beamed, nudging him again with her elbow, and the two of them walked over to the bar, “Show me then, Gandalf. What moves would you pull on me if I was a girl?”

He blinked at her, “Are you … not a girl?” He asked, pure bewilderment on his face as he stole a few napkins from the counter. 

She snickered, “Okay, if I wasn’t me. If you didn’t know me,” 

“If I didn’t know you, I’d be way too nervous to even talk to you. And you definitely wouldn’t want to talk to me,” He said as he fiddled with the paper between his obnoxiously long fingers, folding the sheets into miniature shapes. 

She chuckled at him, shaking her head. It had never been like this with them before. Sure, she teased him, like she always had, but he was teasing back. Complimenting her with a seriousness beyond just being nice. 

Something was different in him since the day Cyrus dragged her away. And if that hadn’t done it, then seeing her every morning for two weeks had changed the boyish anxiety that had lingered even then. 

“Stop stalling and show me these tricks of yours,” She bit playfully, though the grin she gave him was genuine as she saw something mischievous flash in his eyes. 

“Patience is virtue, patience is virtue-” He murmured, fiddling with the short, plastic straws they kept at the bar, “Now for this to work, I’m going to need a beautiful assistant. Do you think you could find one for me-” 

She smacked his arm, and he snickered. She shook her head, fighting her own laugh overcoming her. 

Maybe she was right. Talking about something he loved made him feel entirely at ease, like he controlled every angle their conversation took, and the air between them had taken this odd electric turn he wasn’t expecting like someone had pumped a thousand volts under his skin.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” He replied, holding out one of the straws, about as plain and simple as it would be if it were in a drink, “But I will need some magic words,”

“Ofcourse,” She drawled, her cheeks hurting from how tight she was smiling, “What are they?”

“Magic words are, ‘I’ll be there’” He instructed, fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves as he watched her frown, and he pointed the straw at her mouth like a microphone, “You got it?” 

“Yep,” She responded, even though the confusion read clear as day on her face. He tapped the straw on her nose and cleared his throat. 

“3, 2, 1,” He tapped it to her temple, then to each of her shoulders, “Go on a date with me?” 

“I’ll be there,” She responded, and in a strobe of light the single instrument became a trio of origami roses, stuffed into the straws as stems. 

Her brain caught up to her as he gently placed them in her hand, her eyes gazing at him like he had just presented her with a 24 carat diamond, though in reality it was nothing more than a silly trick with napkins and plastic. 

“Spencer,” She said earnestly, and he could have sworn her voice quivered for a split second, before she shook her head at him, punching him on the hip gently, “You are the most humble man I’ve ever met. You do that to any other girl and you’re getting laid, I’m telling you,” 

He rubbed his chin bashfully, both of them catching the way the waitress behind the bar watched him with large, blue eyes Bugsy could have bathed in. She was gorgeous, and she stared at Spencer as if she’d been the one given roses. 

Attracted. Interested. 

“Talk to her,” Bugsy whisper-yelled, nodding over to the barmaid who busied herself with another order, though they both saw the way her flicking glances to the two of them as she scooped ice, “She would have seen if a guy like that frequented somewhere like here, talk to her,”

“What- no-” He protested, but his eyes widening as Bugsy leaned over the bar to flag the woman down with that playful charisma of hers, not missing the way a few heads turned as the dress tightened around her ass as she bent forward. 

He felt his chest flash with anger, glaring at the men, hoping it was enough to ward them off. Her hand enclosed around his wrist, drawing his attention back to the bartender who watched him with a sweet face. He had to admit she was attractive. 

“This is my very best friend, Spencer,” Bugsy told the woman, who smiled at him, and the Prentiss girl lifted his hand up to wave at her like he was a ragdoll, “Spencer, wanted to show you something, didn’t you, Spence?” 

Raising her eyebrows at him, nodding to the flyers in his hand. 

“I’m gonna go dance,” She fibbed, knowing she was going to go scout out the crowd to see if any guys fit the profile, nudging him a little harder than before, “Remember what we talked about. I’ll be by the DJ,” 

Grinning encouragingly, he watched her swoop into the crowd like it was second nature, not missing the collection of guys who watched her every move; she captured the room when she moved, when she smiled, when she politely excused herself past a group of girls that tried to pull her into their circle with friendly cheers. 

He did another one of his tricks for Austin, he’d come to learn was the name of the girl behind the bar, but it hadn’t felt the same, not even when she gave him her number unprompted, even as she flirted, smiled prettily, batted those sea blue eyes at him. It wasn’t the same. 

He worried for a moment that the electricity he’d felt was reserved only for Bugsy, but he squashed it down faster than he could confront the idea. 

2. The one where he nearly dies

“I don’t know how to do this,” JJ confessed, her bluebell eyes filled with tears as she stared out of her boss’ office and into the bullpen full of officers, scientists and even the damn military tearing through pages and pages of resources for answers. 

Anthrax. A weapon of mass destruction they’d already had a small dose of, was on the move through the BAU’s own city. And they each had strict instructions to not alert their loved ones. 

“I can’t stop thinking about Henry,” She whimpered through a strong facade as she turned to Hotch, and she saw the same guilt eating him up in those dark eyes of his that rarely let anything slip. 

He had Jack. He had Haley, even with the divorce papers signed so long ago. He had people at risk too. And yet she couldn’t stop seeing her precious little boy’s face as he lay back in his pushchair and enjoyed the sights of the park, the same park that had just been targeted with an airborne disease-

“He goes for a walk almost every single day at Potomac Park,” She sniffed, the nausea chewing away at her brain as she recounted the lesions on that poor teenage girls skin, that's going to be Henry, that’s going to be Will, “What type of mother am I if I don’t atleast call and tell them to stay home?” 

“JJ, we can’t,” Hotch said, though he felt his own dam start to tear down as he tried not to think of what could possibly happen to his own sweet son. 

“I know, but-” Her throat bobbed, “It-it’s not just me- Emily’s worried about Bugsy. She told me she cuts through the park on the way to her lectures- she has one every day this week- Hotch-”

It was true. She had caught Emily in her own turmoil as the woman sped off to grab a drink seconds after chugging down the dose of Cipro they’d all been given that morning. She’d caught her filling a glass of water until the liquid started leaking down the sides and went over her shaking fingers, and even then she’d had to tug her friend out of whatever rabbit hole the words ‘Media Blackout’ had sent her down. 

“I understand you both have people you want to protect,” Hotch was the voice of reason, as he always was, and it stung her to see his face so cold since she knew he was drowning his own sorrows behind it, “But if we all called home and used this information to give us an advantage other people don’t have, is that the right thing to do?” 

She bit her lip, knowing he was right. She just prayed on everything she had Will would stay home with Henry today, Haley would have a movie night with Jack, and for whatever she had seen in Emily’s eyes earlier, a pure, unadulterated self-loathing, that Bugsy at least took the day off teaching.

JJ prayed, and prayed, and prayed. 

–

She shuffled her notes together as she marked papers at her desk. They let her take the office to herself since she’d been at the University for five months now, gave her free reign of her lectures without having a supervisor like they had the first eight weeks or so. Bugsy enjoyed, surprising as it was to her, the feeling of somewhere that wasn’t the laboratory. Emily and Spencer had forced her to apply for jobs when they caught her binge watching real housewives for the sixth time back to back, of course lacking any bottoms. 

Emily didn’t know why she thought twenty-four year old Bugsy would be any different. They had thought at least that Derek holding her hair back on the night of her birthday party as she threw up copious amounts of jello shots on the sidewalk would be an eye opening moment, but it hadn’t deterred her in the slightest. She had just chucked a handful of gum in her mouth, patted the man on the back and asked Emily to hit up the drive thru on their way home. 

It wasn’t until she got the job did she feel a little bit more responsible, like what she was doing actually affected the people around her. Teaching first year college students was so very different than she’d expected, she was the authority figure. 

She could hear her mother laughing at her now. 

She almost smudged the little smiley face she’d drawn beside one of her student’s B+ as the phone rang on her desk, because she had an office phone believe it or not, and she cleared her throat, trying to sound as grown up as possible whilst also trying not to grin how excited she was to use her new landline. 

“Miss Prentiss speaking, who’s calling?” She said, almost not recognising herself as she squeezed her gel pen in delight. She had this grown up thing down to a tea.

“Hi, Bug.” Spencer’s voice sounded out of breath, and she heard his converse slapping against a linoleum floor fast, as if he was pacing, “I got a quick hypothetical to run through with you,” 

“Y-yeah, sure- Where are you?” She asked, her brows furrowing when he gave a wheezy cough, “Spence?”

“I’m not allowed to tell you, but I’m fine- for now,” He winced as he said the last part, as if it had slipped unintentionally, as if he knew what was coming next. He could practically hear her brain ticking over, “So, when you’re in the lab-”

“What do you mean for now?” She cut him off, standing up from her desk, already collecting her pencils back into their little pink case, “Where’s Emily? Is she okay? Is anyone hurt?”

“Everyone’s fine; as I was saying, hypothetically, when you’re in the lab where would you-” He talked over her right back, his slender fingers flicking through the piles of work, hoping he stumbled on a formula, a sticky note, a damn cheat sheet, anything. 

“Don’t avoid my question, Spencer,” She snapped, and she could already feel the worry lines on her forehead. 

He sighed, hoping she couldn’t hear the way his chest rattled and he choked down a cough. It would only make her worry more. 

“I promise I will tell you what’s going on if you just answer my question,” Spencer rushed, feeling his face growing sweaty, opening the entire cabinet of drawers. “Okay?”

She nodded, biting her nail, as she sat back down. “Okay fine, shoot,”

“Where would you put your valuable items if you didn’t trust your lab partner while the two of you were working together?” He asked, wiping his brow with his sleeve as he held the phone tight to his ear with his shoulder. 

She paused for a moment, “Well it’s standard practice that all jewellery comes off before we get scrubbed, so as not to contaminate anything. I usually put my scrunchie through my rings and tied it back into my hair so they wouldn’t get stolen. I knew some guys who put their watches around their ankles. Basically anywhere we could feel it on us,” 

He cleared his throat again, and she heard him take a few steps, “How’s grading papers going? Did you get a fax machine yet?” 

He was trying to change the subject, trying to take her mind off whatever it was he was doing that required such an urgent and peculiar question. 

“It’s going good, I miss you bringing me coffee; it was like I had a maid who helped me with my crosswords,” She said, biting her bottom lip squeezing her thumb in the middle of her fist to slow the nerves. He tried to pretend he wasn’t smiling hearing that. “Now tell me what’s wrong. Did you go running without your inhaler again? I told you to leave a spare at ours so I could rescue you if you ever-” 

“Bugsy, you’re a genius!” He cried, ignoring the way it made his throat burn, “Remind me to tell you every single day how smart you are- I have to go,” 

“Spence- Spencer-” She tried to cut in, but he had already put the phone down. 

So much for not worrying her, she thought, as she got on the phone to Emily within seconds. 

-

Bugsy all but burst through the hospital doors, apologising when she nearly knocked a stack of files from a nurse's hands, wishing she had an inhaler herself after she had ran all the way from the car park, including the three flights of stairs. 

After calling in sick the rest of the day, and practically volleying her rucksack into the passenger's seat of her car, she had blindly called Emily four more times until the woman answered with a frightened lilt to her voice. 

Spencer was headed to the hospital. Spencer was headed there on full blues with lungs full of an even deadlier strain of Anthrax. Last Emily had heard he was getting worse. Bugsy put her foot down on the pedal even harder. 

She knew the speeding ticket would come any day, and didn't even want to think about the state of her parking. All she cared about the second the lady at the desk had said what room he was in was seeing he was okay, that he wasn’t growing lesions or choking on his own blood or having half of his brain boiled alive. 

Bugsy felt a small spike of panic, if it could even get worse, as she yanked the curtain back to see him asleep, a cannula tucked into his nose, a hospital gown tied over his shoulders. 

Diving for his file that was attached to the end of his bed, she looked through his information to check what meds he’d been given. He once told her he was allergic to narcotics, said he had been since birth, and while she trusted one of the team to have passed the information on, she had to see it for herself that he was stable. 

No narcotics given. Only paracetamol for his fever that was rapidly coming down. She could breathe again. 

She jumped out of her skin when the curtain rail was pulled back a second time, and Derek seemed to startle for a moment too before a tired smile met his handsome face. 

“Where have you been, Baby Prentiss?” His breath knocked out of him when she threw herself at him, a sigh of relief coming from her bitten lips. 

“Oh, thank god you’re okay,” She murmured, and his chuckle echoed through his chest into her ear, “You all worried me half to death,”

“You’re looking very grown up,” He teased as he patted her on the back. And she was. She had taken to wearing maxi skirts and tights, even throwing on a cute blazer for affect, she was the teacher after all. She shoved him away with a smack to the chest. He laughed, holding up the opened pot of jell-o to her face, “Jell-o?”

She gagged, filled with memories of her birthday. 

He shook his head with a smile as she sat down in the seat next to the bed and he spooned the first mouthful of the fruity dessert into his mouth. 

“Is everyone else alright?” She asked, wringing her hands together. She fought back the urge to tuck Spencer’s curls behind his ear, knowing he was sleeping peacefully.

“Stop worrying. Team’s fine; we caught the guy and confiscated his supply. Even saved the last few survivors with you telling Reid where to look,” Morgan watched her jaw feather, and she picked under her nails. 

“I keep telling you guys, I didn’t do anything. I just… spoke to him. He’s the genius, not me,” She said solemnly, staring into her lap with a frown. 

“Not to him. Whole journey back, before the aphasia kicked in, he kept telling paramedics to tell Doctor Kimura it was you who’d figured it out.” Derek said, but it seemed to make her sulk more. 

She said nothing, pulling out her book from her bag to continue reading as she waited for him to wake up, and Derek took it as a sign she was in no mood to talk, god forbid even take a compliment, and opened the magazine he’d grabbed from the cafeteria. 

–

Half an hour and another pot of pudding for Morgan later (she gagged again at the sweet strawberry smell of it), the pair of them sat in silence, reading their own materials when a very sleepy, doe eyed man looked up and frowned.

“Are you eating Jell-O?” Spencer asked, barely noticing the girl on the other side of the bed, who shot up out of her seat as he came around. 

“Hey doc. You have a visitor,” Morgan said with a small smile, Spencer’s face falling into a frown. He looked to the other side of him, just in time to see a worn copy of Middlemarch being flung to the floor and a hand grabbing his clammy ones tightly. 

“Spencer I’m- I’m so mad at you-” She gasped, every soppy feeling of sadness she’d been stewing in leaving her body when she saw his hazel eyes fall to her, “You put the phone down on me and next thing I know you’re in the back of an ambulance nearly flatlining- I’m so-” 

She breathed when she saw his eyes soften. He didn’t think she knew it but he saw the way her eyes glistened, her voice trembled underneath her anger. He felt the way she had yet to let go of his hand, how nice and warm it felt in his palm. 

“I’m sor-” He hadn’t even finished his apology when she had latched onto him, trying not to hug him too tight but hard enough she could tell herself he was still here. He was okay. 

And he could understand. He’d felt the same when they’d found her in that church, when Cyrus had hauled her away after she’d practically offered herself up in exchange for him. He’d known she was braver than she gave herself credit for, but that had stopped his heart right there and then. He had grabbed her in a hug the first chance he’d got even then, even when he barely knew her, when she was Emily’s sister and not Bugsy. Not the woman he’d spent every morning with for weeks bringing her a coffee just the way she enjoyed it, the woman he’d sat with on Emily’s couch with her legs across his lap as they did the puzzles in the morning paper together. She tried to do them, and he would finish them when she got too annoyed by the ones she couldn’t answer. 

“I’m sorry,” He said, his arms gently hugging her back and he felt something wet on his shoulder blade before he knew what it was. He felt even worse for worrying her, squeezing her tighter than was even comfortable for him. 

“Don’t do that to me again,” She said through tears as she settled in his arms. 

He really hoped she couldn’t hear the way his heart pounded. 

3. The one at Haley’s funeral

She had no idea what to say. Emily had always been the one who knew how to talk to people. She had this horrible habit of saying the first thing that came to her head, probably because a lot of the time it was the most real, and people liked real. 

But now wasn’t the time for what was best for her. Haley Hotchner had been murdered. 

She hadn’t spoken to Hotch yet, she’d only met the man a handful of times. But he’d invited her anyway, for the team. For Emily, maybe even Spencer; Emily said he liked when she was around. She couldn’t imagine any other reason she would be there. 

Other than, ofcourse, to be Spencer’s crutch. Literally. Since his real one had broken and he was still limping around with one knee weakened by the bullet wound in it. 

She’d nearly had a heart attack when he’d called from the hospital, again, though this time he’d waited until he’d gotten the all clear to tell her so she didn’t panic quite as much as last time. She’d cursed him out for being so reckless, and requested another week's sick pay to take care of him until he was able to actually walk. It was only a one year contract with the university anyway, she didn’t care if she missed a few days to make sure he was okay. 

“You look very handsome today,” She whispered to him as she hauled him out of the car, minding that he didn't hit his head on the ceiling. He gave her a small smile and tucked her own hair behind her ear seeing it come loose from its braid when she’d leaned down to grab him. 

“Just today?” He asked, and she finally smiled back. She’d been stuck in a bubble in the car; her and Emily both had. They had the same thinking face, he’d realised. 

“Just especially today,” She answered honestly, and he worked on adjusting his black jacket so she could hold onto him comfortably. She was quieter than usual. Feeble, almost. 

“Thankyou, you do too,” He replied, his face scrunching after a moment, “Look pretty I mean,” 

He leaned on her arm, looped it around hers as he tried to be the least amount of imposing as possible. That went about as well as you’d expect for a six foot one bag of bones. 

She gave up after just a few steps, moving his arm to wrap around her shoulder as she walked with him. To anyone else they would easily pass as a couple, especially as she squeezed him tightly to her when the men laid down Hayley’s coffin, and the service began. 

“W.S Gilbert wrote ‘It’s love that makes the world go around’ and if that’s true, then the world spun a little faster with Hayley in it.” Aaron began, his voice strong as his large hands gripped the eulogy like it would give him any comfort. She smiled softly, her eyes glued to the man who stood unmoving for his son, “Haley was my best friend since we were in high school. We certainly had our struggles but if there’s one thing we agreed on unconditionally, it was our love and our commitment to our son, Jack,” 

Bugsy smiled sadly when Jack looked to the floor bashfully. Glancing between the photo on top of the coffin, a beautiful blonde woman grinning back at her with brilliantly happy eyes and a soft face, she saw where he got most of his looks from. 

“Haley’s love for Jack was joyous, and fierce. That fierceness is why she isn’t here today. A mother’s love is an unrivalled force of nature, and we can all learn much from the way Haley lived her life. Haley’s death causes each of us to stop and take stock of our lives. To measure who we are and who we’ve become.” She felt Spencer’s head knock into hers, felt the sniff run through him, and she searched her pocket for a tissue, “I don’t have all those answers for myself, but I know who Haley was. She was the woman who died protecting the child we brought into this world together; and I will make sure Jack grows up knowing who his mother was. And how she loved and protected him. And how much I loved her.” 

If Haley were here today she would tell us not to mourn her death. She would tell us-” Aaron cut himself off with a watery voice, his resolve finally melting as he realised this would be some of his final words to his wife. Bugsy felt her bottom lip quiver in remorse, “She would tell us to love our families unconditionally. And to hold them close because in the end they are all that matter.” 

Spencer felt her tug him closer as she hid the lone few tears from the rest of the mourners and wished more than ever he could press a small kiss to her brow.

–

No, Bugsy was not good with knowing what to say and when. Wasn’t good at cheering people up no matter how much Spencer told her she always made him feel better. Didn’t really know much about how to make someone understand that she cared other than showing them with her whole body. 

So by the time it was her turn to offer condolences, she didn’t bother shaking his hand. That meant nothing to her. That was a business deal, that was an agreement, a formal way to pretend you cared. But she did, she felt terrible for Hotch, wanted to fix him and his sweet son until Haley was right back there to thank her. 

She didn’t shake his hand like everyone else had. He held his hand out for one, his eyes soft and warm, like he could see she was struggling. She brushed past his hand and just pulled him in for a hug, and he wondered if she was always going to greet him that way. 

“I guessed that sorry wouldn’t make anything better so I brought you the biggest bottle of wine the store had,” She murmured into his chest, and she was gobsmacked to hear him chuckle weakly. She felt his hands pat her on the back gently, and he appreciated her candour. “I’ve got some Xanax if you’d really like a treat,” 

She was a breath of fresh air. Aaron truthfully had been sick of people saying they were so sorry for his loss, and he felt like shaking them and yelling, screaming that they hadn’t been the one to kill Haley, Foyet had. 

He pushed all of it down, focusing on the way she’d tucked herself to him like she had the day she’d become a runaway bride dripping rainwater over his bureau floor. 

“She would have really liked you,” Aaron confessed, and they finally parted, and she saw he was smiling like he meant it, not just saying it to make her feel more comfortable being here. “You would have made her laugh,”

He saw the easy expression on her face fade, and she turned to look at her heels, nodding quietly. 

“I would have been lucky to have known her,” She said, handing him the gift bag with a very heavy present inside. “I only wish someone would ever love me the way you love her,’ 

And with that she bid him a smile, and returned to her seat in between Emily and JJ, the pair of them mother henning her all day.

Aaron wished he could have said more to her after that, but before he knew it, someone else was offering him their condolences, and the sadness in her voice was forgotten.

–

The team sat around the table, nursing their beers, or in Spencer and Bugsy’s case a tea. Spencer didn’t want to affect his healing process with alcohol, not that he’d ever been big on the stuff, and Bug said she struggled driving even without the help of a beer, so they chatted between sips from two very fancy china cups. 

Emily and JJ sat to the other side of her talking about how beautiful the flower arrangements were when a small, fawn haired body came wandering over to where Will held a one year old Henry on his knee. 

“Would he like to play?” Jack asked shyly, trying to peer up onto the adults table to see if there were any other kids his age that would like to do something with him. His dad had been busy talking to all those people, and auntie Jessica had been trying to make it round to every table to thank people for being here. He didn’t entirely understand what was happening, in all honesty.

“He’s still a little too small yet honey. In a year or so, you guys can be best friends,” JJ said sweetly as he pulled his chin up to the tabletop and spied the younger woman sitting next to uncle Spencer.

He tottered over to her, where she sat unaware she had a shadow until Spencer's face softened as he looked behind her, and she swivelled around in her seat. 

“Hello,” Jack said quietly, looking up at where she seemed to buffer, feeling eight pairs of eyes on her as she interacted with the small boy.

She had never been good with children, had never been around them since she was their age, even the kids she taught now were all at least eighteen. 

The mantra to absolutely not fuck up the next few moments reverberated around her head. 

She gave him a soft smile, holding out a hand for him to shake, “Hi, Jack. I’m Emily’s sister. You can call me Bugsy,”

His tiny nose scrunched as he watched her, shaking her hand the way dad had shown him how. 

“Bugsy? That’s a weird name,” He said, and she chuckled, “Like the bunny?”

She shrugged, “I guess like the bunny, yeah,” although she had never thought of that before. 

“Would you like to play with me?” Jack asked, and she felt her chest warm unnaturally. He had such a sweet face. It was just like the woman in the picture.

Smiling at him crookedly, she rooted around her bag for the notebook and pens she kept for her to-do lists. Maybe Spencer was rubbing off on her. 

“We could do some drawing if you want?” She offered, showing him the pad with kind eyes. That seemed to satiate him as he grabbed her knee and started pulling himself up to sit in her lap, and she paused. 

Kids were so funny, she realised, she would never just start grabbing someone she just met and asking to climb on their lap. 

She got him comfortable on her knee, not noticing the flashing glances Spencer gave her between his conversation with Kevin, Garcia’s beau, as Jack started drawing a bunny with a human face, that was supposedly meant to be her. 

Spencer watched her giggle as he gave the rabbit a pretty dress, like the one she was wearing, and Spencer had to admit it was a pretty dress she’d gone for today. Had he not been so mournful earlier he thinks he would have blushed how tight she’d held him. 

She showed him how to play noughts and crosses, and she let him win most of them, laughing when he asked to tear out the page from her notebook to show his dad later. 

That is, until the man himself came over to the table of his work colleagues, only to see the group watching their youngest playing with his sweet son. 

“Bugsy,” Hotch said, and her head shot up to him, a guilty look passing over her face, worried she’d overstepped, though the fact he hadn’t said her real name said otherwise, “Can I talk to you for a moment outside, please?”

She blinked, straightening in her seat “O-ofcourse!” Shuffling Jack off her lap as fast as she could without hurting him, smoothing out her dress down as she followed him to the small balcony the funeral home had. It was a classy manor, but she guessed Hotch would have only had the best for Haley. 

“I’m sorry if I overstepped, Jack asked to sit on my lap- and- I’m not good with kids anyway I just didn’t want to tell him no, especially not today-” He put his hand on her shoulder to shut her up, a small smile spreading on his face. It was fatherly and calming, something her own father had been much too busy to ever bother with.  

“Not at all, that’s not why I called you out here,” He reassured, squeezing her gently as he leaned against the railing, taking a deep breath of the midnight air, and he felt his professional mask begin to slip. “I’ve been thinking… about how much help you've been to us over the years. Reid would be dead if it wasn’t for you.” She opened her mouth to protest, and he flashed her a look that said he was serious. “Let me finish,”

She wrung her hands guiltily, “Sorry,” 

“You’re very resilient far beyond your years, you’re incredibly charismatic when you need to be, and you’re by far one of the smartest people your age,” He said, watching her face to see how she felt. He knew she didn’t take compliments well, for some other reason they could dig into any other day. But he needed to say it now, needed her to know now for what he was about to ask her. 

“Whether that is true or not, why are you telling me this?” She asked politely, without the usual bite that went with it when they tried calling her something she wasn’t. 

“I need to take some time off to spend with Jack, try and help him…” He trailed off, unsure as to what he wanted to say. “Help him understand Haley’s not coming home,”

She nodded with a glistening lash line, and grabbed onto his arm gently.

“My team looks to me to be their glue, but I know I can’t keep everyone together and look after my son. Emily said your contract at the University was ending,” He cleared his throat, looking at her again with something vulnerable in his sable black eyes, “So I was wondering if you would reconsider the FBI academy? It’s only twenty weeks, but Rossi and I can put you forward to do the written exams earlier if you’d like, and then Strauss can have you assigned a trainee position at the BAU-” 

“Anything,” She nodded, “Anything you need, I’ll do it,” and he hugged her for once. Maybe it was the way she had said it so willingly, no matter her own reservations about joining the academy, no matter her stubbornness and resistance to her sisters pestering, or even the fact they all talked weekly about how much easier their job would be if she was there. Her and Reid’s brains together were a force to be reckoned with. 

And he knew, the surprisingly kind girl that clutched at him back, would keep his team together, would be the glue to keep their heads on while he took some time to watch his son. 

“Thankyou,” He murmured into her hair, and she forced herself not to get weepy at the grief in his voice. Of all people here, she was the last person who should be allowed to cry. Least of all to him. 

He pulled away from her eventually, cursing himself for letting the front slip, but it was as if she had that effect on everyone on the team, like she had this little way of worming her way between that gap in their chests where their hearts once were before they’d seen the things they had, dealt with the people they had. 

It was for that reason Aaron knew they would be just fine. 

“You know, when I was a kid, mom got letters every day from people with their own agendas against her,” Bugsy said once they’d taken a gulp of cool night air, “They all said the same thing; that they were going to take me for ransom unless she left the country. She didn’t think much of it until a guy started following the car home from school and she decided to get me trained in self defence,” 

Hotch frowned, his chest tightening. He knew how it felt to be a parent on edge for his kid’s safety, but to hear it from the other side cut deeper. 

“Which was fine, I got a pretty mean shot if I say so myself, but eventually it progressed into hostage training, in case…” She swallowed dryly, clearing her throat and picking her nails, “I wet the bed the first time they grabbed me, the whole idea was that I wouldn’t know it was coming. They let me go pretty fast, I don’t think they’d expected the eleven year old to reach for the kitchen knife,” 

Hotch scoffed, shaking his head in horror, though he didn’t doubt her for a second. 

“I slept with it next to my bed for a year, so that next time they came for me, they would think twice and let me sleep in,” She said with a thoughtful smile.

“And did it work?” He asked, watching her run her hands along the stone wall beneath his  elbow. 

“I dunno, but the one guy left pretty quick when I almost took his eye out,” She giggled, and the sound made him laugh quietly as well, “My point is, you’ve got nothing to worry about with Jack. Kids like us, we get made tougher, resilient. And with parents like you two, I’d say he had a pretty good head start.” Bugs said, smiling to herself flicking a glance up to his face that said just how touched he was. Deciding he was likely waiting for her to turn around before he let himself cry, she took a step back, heading towards the reception. “I mean look at me, I turned out alright!” 

She barely heard his small chuckle that faded into a weep before she shut the door behind her, heading back over to the table where the team sat, Jack now with his auntie Jessica, and their eyes fell on her, waiting to hear whatever it was she had to say. 

Taking a deep breath, she gave them an awkward smile, “Guess I’m joining the academy afterall,” 

And that was all she got out before Garcia dived on her with an excited cuddle. 

4. The one with his new hair

He knew he was sweeping his fingers through his hair much more often than usual, his hazel eyes flickering to his reflection in car doors in a way that was almost obsessive. He liked what his barber had done, but that wasn’t the point. 

He was hoping she liked it. 

Bugsy had passed the academy with flying colours, not that anyone had ever doubted her, and had been part of the team for all of two weeks, though he would argue she was BAU way before that. Hotch had figured out a staggered schedule where he could take care of Jack four days a week and work the rest until Jack settled back in at school. 

It had been nearly five months since Haley had died, but it hadn’t gotten any easier for the boy. 

Spencer definitely, definitely hadn’t spent the last two weeks practically breathing down her neck whenever they went out into the field, nor had he definitely not found himself fighting off the grin that threatened his composure when he caught her scribbling notes down to herself whilst Penelope presented the cases. 

And he most definitely hadn’t gone out to get a new hair cut in the hopes she would find him more attractive. 

Definitely not.

And yet, her face was the first one he found himself looking at as he stepped into the office, watching as it trailed up from her notebook, her pink gel pen paused mid sentence as the rest of the team went silent, her face spitting into a grin the minute she saw him. 

“What, did you join a boyband?” Hotch asked in a rare moment of teasing, Derek snickering as Emily nudged his arm with her own chuckle. 

“Can I be your groupie?” Bugsy asked, which made them laugh harder, though she stared at him with a small twinkle in her eye the way she always did when he squirmed under her compliments. 

He hadn’t thought she was being mean, not even when they took a moment to settle down, not even when she smiled wryly at him, her eyes flicking up to his hair twice more before her attention was stolen back by Garcia switching the board. 

“Okay, so what are we looking at here? Late twenties, early thirties?” Emily asked after they quietened, adjusting her bangs over her brows. 

“All single, though two are in committed relationships,” Rossi added, flicking through his own pack of notes. “All living on their own,” 

“Looks like normal suburban houses. Give the Unsub privacy,” Morgan added, his face scrunched in disgust as he looked at the crime scene photos. 

“The differences are more striking than the similarities. Different hair colours, different body shapes.” Reid noted, Bugsy’s handwriting scrawling over her notebook as she tried to capture everything they were saying. 

“What do we know about his MO?” Hotch asked JJ, the blonde woman shaking her head with a grimace. 

“That’s why we were invited in, the abduction sites are pristine,” She said gravely, looking between her team as they seemed to balk at the information. 

“No DNA besides the victims, and there’s no sign of forced entry or struggle,” Bugsy noted in the pack Garcia had given her that morning, along with a little pat to the head for good luck. Before now, in those two weeks, they had only dealt with one kidnapping and one group homicide that had turned out to be one very stupid teen spiking drinks at a pool party. This case would be the worst one she’d seen yet. 

“And the victims aren’t reported until two or three days after they’re abducted,” Emily tailed off the end of her sister, her eyes serious as the team came to the same conclusion. 

He had days to spend as much time with the bodies as he wanted. 

“Two or three days? Women like this don’t just disappear without somebody noticing,” Rossi chimed in again, as JJ clicked onto the next screen handing the remote to Garcia. 

“Yes, which is why I had Garcia dig into their lives a little,” She said, taking a seat next to Hotch to let penelope lead. 

“And I took a look at their online activity, I could easily see what the Unsub was doing,” Penelope said, clicking onto a screen full of the women’s profiles. 

Bugsy couldn’t even say she was shocked. Ever since she was in highschool, friendships, or her lack thereof, had been entirely decided on who had the most likes on their status update. Apparently no one found the girl who read Russian Literature for fun cool, nor did they want anything to do with her. Emily didn’t know she’d sat in the school toilets to eat her lunch for three years straight. Turns out kids from every country were bitches. 

“Social Media profiles?” Her older sister asked, though the surprise was evident on her face atleast. 

“Yeah, facebook, twitter, you name an online life-sharing time suck, these victims were on it,” Penelope said, enlarging the screen for the team to see the specifics, “And if you look at each of their last posts, they say kind of the same thing, ‘Going out of town, Going on a business trip, Going on vacation,’ but when you look at the time and date stamps on each of these, queue the twilight zone music because they were all posted the morning after each of them went missing,”

“The unsub posted them?” Hotch concluded, his natural frown deepening. This Unsub had a way to keep all of his victims hidden for much longer than they’d anticipated. Who knows what he could be doing as they spoke. 

“You know, social networks are an easy way for an unsub to target his victims. These women were especially open, they posted everything from what they had for dinner to where they were going on dates,” Spencer said, looking at the print outs Pen had handed to them. 

“The unsub ‘Friends’ his victim, and then uses it as a cover once he takes them,” Derek said, as Bugsy’s face scrunched in disagreement. 

“What are you thinking, Kiddo?” Rossi asked from her left, as he head shot up to see the team watching her, waiting for her input. 

Surprising to everyone, she was somewhat nervous when she’d started at the BAU. The Bugsy Prentiss, the woman who had caught out parts of the Russian Mob when she was just a college student, was nervous to not mess up in front of them. 

“I understand what Derek’s saying, but nowadays you don’t actually have to be friends with someone to follow them.” She said, picking her fingertips in thought, “A lot of people have hundreds of total strangers they’ve never met on their page; some settings mean you don’t even need to be ‘friends’ in the first place to see what they're posting. The UnSub probably wouldn’t even bother implicating himself in the first place by following them, he could just access their profile and see what they're up to. I think he profiles as patient and organised, and somewhat tech savvy if he’s up to date on the way these medias work,” 

The team watched her carefully, Spencer beating down the proud smile he wanted to flash her, knowing he needed to be focused on this case, but she seemed satisfied with her answer when Penelope nodded in agreement.

“So you don’t think he’s an old guy like me, is what you’re saying?” Derek asked with aghast, knowing full well mid thirties wasn’t too old. Hadn’t stopped his pride hurting. 

She shook her head, “I just think he wouldn’t be as old as you. Mine and Reid’s age maybe. But he seems obsessive, and he also must have a job that affords him the spare time to spend the following few days with the bodies, but it means we should also assume that these women are likely already dead,”

She looked to Hotch hopefully, to see him staring at her unreadably for a moment, before he looked to Rossi with a nod. 

David slapped her on the shoulder affectionately, “You just put together your first profile, kid,” 

And before long, they were heading for the jet with her deductions in mind to hand over to the cops. 

–

“Can someone explain to me the appeal of these sites? ‘Eating sushi tonight, yum!’ ‘Boss is keeping me late at work, grr,’” Rossi stared at the status updates, perplexed, as the team snickered to themselves. 

“Now, wait a minute. How did you find my profile?” Bugsy asked jokingly, and she drew a fond smile from Aaron her way when Rossi chuckled to himself. 

He wished she would stop looking so nervous to contribute. She fit right in with the furniture. 

“Whose life is so important that we’d be interested in this kind of detail?” Rossi asked seriously, though Bugsy supposed even the coffee machine was a new useless piece of technology to the man who liked his espresso fresh. 

“That’s just it, no one is. I guess everyone just wanted to believe it to themselves that they all have an audience out there waiting to hear every update of their day. Some of them even have GPS tracking systems in place to make it even easier for people to find out exactly where you are,” Bugsy said, her eyes flicking to Spencer who watched her intently, automatically floating up to take in his new hair again. 

She couldn’t help think he had stopped looking cute, and started looking hot. He’d always been cute, god knows she’d always thought he was good looking. But now he looked… dreamy. It had made her double take the minute he’d walked through the door, hoping it wasn’t too obvious she was staring. 

“That explains how he’s finding them, but it doesn’t tell us how he’s getting into their houses,” Hotch nodded along with her, eying her carefully as she looked through her own notes she’d made once she’d brought herself round to ripping her eyes off Reid. 

“At the very least I believe he has copies of their keys,” Spencer said, his finger trailing the information in his file, “Doris Archer had a home security system installed, but the disable code was entered at 1:56am, so he knew that too. He also found a way to deal with her dog, a German Shepard she adopted from the pound last year, it went missing the night she did,” 

“Did they find the dog?” Bugsy asked, her face in a frown as Emily looked up to her.

“Why? What are you thinking?” She asked her little sister who played with the ‘TRAINEE’ lanyard around her neck. 

“If he hurt the dog, it likely meant the dog had been on alert to him as an intruder, since opportunistic violence isn’t in his profile of being collected and organised. So if he didn’t hurt the dog, and he was found alive and unharmed, it means the dog knew him,” Bugsy explained, and Derek stroked his face in thought. 

“This guy’s gotta be in and out of the house well before the night of the disappearance. He comes up with some ruse, talks his way inside, and then once he’s familiar enough with the house he knows he can come back and kidnap them without disturbing anything,” He said, the girl nodding in agreement with him.

“Think of people you let into your home you don’t consider a threat. Home repair guys, dog walkers?” Rossi offered, but JJ was quick to flick to her own pack. 

“Detective Fordham looked into that too. No one came even close to being a killer,” She shut down, not wanting to waste their time running through avenues that had already been explored. 

“Alright,” Hotch started as he glanced at his watch to see they were landing in around ten minutes, “Morgan and Prentiss, start with the last abduction site, see if anything points to his MO.” 

Bugsy raised her hand politely, as if she were still in class, and he nodded in her direction to speak, “Do you mean as in me when you say Prentiss or as in Emily when you say Prentiss?” She asked, and Emily seemed to be having the same issue as she flicked a glance between the two of them.

“I mean Emily, for you I guess I’ll have to say-” But he stopped himself with a frown. What would he say? Bugsy? No, too informal on a case. Baby Prentiss? Absolutely not. He thinks she might just hit him if he said her first name too much. “We’ll workshop it for now. Dave, you, Prentiss, Reid and JJ go back over the women’s lives. Start with asking around their friends on the sites. If this is how the Unsub is finding them, maybe they’re connected to him without even realising.” 

The team was quiet for a moment, before Spencer pointed to Bugsy with his pen, “So that time you meant Bug, right?”

Dave wished he could protest but he had also been a bit confused, as Hotch rubbed his head tenderly. 

He felt the headache coming already. 

–

“What was it about these women that made him choose them as targets?” Bugsy asked as she and Spencer sat in a small room in the Boise precinct, the three victims' profile pictures staring back at them from the board. 

It was their second day working on the case, and other than Garcia tracking a very disturbing snuff film of the last murder being streamed from the victim’s own IP address using camera’s he’d set up in the home, they had yet to have a big breakthrough. Hotch had told her to leave the room when they’d shown the footage, knowing it was one of her first weeks on the case, and despite having a strong stomach, he wanted her to ease into the role rather than drop her in the deep end head first. 

Even seasoned agents like Morgan and Rossi had both winced, JJ even gagging as they watched it happen. They usually dealt with the aftermath, not have front row seats on the act itself. 

She had been allowed in once the tape had finished, but Reid had immediately shuffled her into the small office they’d been permitted to use by the Boise police, his face a little more peaky than usual.

She wished he wouldn’t worry so much about her, wished he would hide it better when he fretted over her. She was sure he would burst a vessel if he kept flicking his head to look at her, though she just sat staring at the women as if the answer would jump out at her. 

“They’re all pretty, aren’t they?” Bugsy said, swinging her legs beneath the table, her eyes roving over the three faces, “Though unconventionally, they’re still pretty.”

They weren’t his type, Spencer thought, they looked almost nothing like her. She had removed the last of the pink hair dye she’d managed to keep on top of for a year or so before she’d started at the university. Her nose piercing had progressed to a little thin silver hoop, though her earrings had been dialled down for safety reasons in the field, and she kept her hair tied back away from her face most days. She looked older, which was a dumb thing to think, since of course she was older. But she had grown into her face, and Spencer was entirely convinced she took after her father since the only thing she shared with Emily was the same pout when she thought too hard. 

He’d watched her grow for all of three years into the twenty five year old that sat before him, and yet her face had never really changed shape. She still had those pretty eyes that seemed to glint up at him, those soft lips that pursed when she tried not to giggle at him, that perfect nose he would trace the edge of using just his gaze when she had come over to his apartment to study for the academy. She was still as beautiful as the day he’d met her, he thinks part of him had always thought of her in that way. He had just put it down to a pretty girl giving him attention. But girls gave him attention all the time, he had realised since that stakeout at the club, when he’d given her those napkin roses. He just didn’t care for them. 

He only cared about what she thought of him. 

Only cared what her face looked like-

“Wait,” He stopped his thoughts that could go on for days, weeks, about her. They already had, it was difficult to pull himself out of it sometimes. He stared at the photos of the victims, his mind revelling in her own face that he didn’t doubt had guys swooning and falling over their own feet, as he zeroed in on their eyes, cheekbones, septums, “Their faces are all an identical structure,” 

“How did you figure that out?” She asked, wide eyed and he ripped down the photos before she could catch him blushing. 

He thought he might take it to the grave what he’d been thinking about. 

–

“He’s going live,” Hotch seethed, clicking a button on the remote and the whiteboard in the centre of the room lit up with video footage, a small red dot flashing slowly in the corner telling them they were watching it being streamed. 

Bugsy stood behind Spencer, her eyes glued to the small computer at the desk that played the same screen, her heart rate spiking when she saw a small body camera pointing at a house, the UnSub cutting across a lawn in a near sprint. 

He’d lost control completely, and he had another victim set in his sights. 

“He’s not slow, deliberate. This guy’s pissed.” Rossi said, his jaw hung open in horror as the streamer headed straight for the front door. 

“All right, what do we see? Determining markers?” Hotch snapped the groups focus back from the gut wrenching panic that everyone felt, and it was like a switch flipped.

“A one story cottage,” Spencer noted, his eyes glued to the screen so tight he missed the way Bugsy’s face changed colour, and she looked like she was swaying on her feet. 

“That could be anywhere,” Detective Fordham commented back, his face grimacing. 

“Is there a number on the house?” Morgan asked, and everyone leaned in closer to the footage. 

“No, he’s already at the door,” JJ said, running a hand through her long blonde hair. 

Bugsy thought she might be sick. 

“Garcia,” 

“He’s using twice as many proxy servers,” Her shaky voice came through the speaker, furious typing in the background.

“Wait, this window in the background, is that the chat room?” Emily asked, pointing to the small screen at the bottom that flooded with comments from at least forty different users, and more began entering the stream. 

Get that bitch. 

Show her a good time. 

Teach the pigs a lesson for sticking their nose in. 

Bugsy wished she hadn’t been so fast at reading, as she felt her skin go cold at the sight of the comments. 

“People are getting off on it,” She said quietly, but no one heard her, too focused on finding out where the UnSub was. 

“Uh Huh,” Garcia confirmed, as the footage flicked to show a kitchen view, a pretty fair haired woman stood chopping peppers none the wiser to the sick people watching her life before it was about to be ended. 

“He’s in the house, guys,” Reid ran clammy hands over his trousers, his stomach churning as the video went on.

“He’s completely changed his MO,” Derek added, and the team could do nothing but watch in terror, “There’s too much light, what happened?”

“Someone asked the wrong question at the press conference,” JJ explained from beside Reid, her nails bitten to hell. 

“Oh my god, turn around. Just turn around,” Emily begged, and part of her little sister thought she might have been talking about her. 

“Maybe she can fend him off,” Derek said, though even his tone of voice wasn’t convinced. 

“New kitchen appliances, maybe we could check the work order?” Spencer was grasping at straws he knew that, but he couldn’t sit back with that big brain of his working overtime and not try to help at all.

“He’ll be gone by then,” Rossi said, and he wasn’t entirely wrong.

“Garcia, can you give me anything?” Hotch asked, and the sound of typing got even faster if that was possible.

“I’m stateside now, I’m almost to Idaho, I just need more time,” but Garcia was cut of by the man in the video lurching at the innocent woman, his hands wrapping around her neck with a venomous grip, her every moment of pain and terror captured on his body cam for his audience to see. 

His audience including the team. 

Bug felt the bile rise then, felt her eyes burn as she watched the woman’s face freeze in fear, a yelp of “No!” leaving her oesophagus, her small hands coming up to his wrists to try pry him away from her, anything to gasp for another breath of air. 

She wasn’t listening as Hotch barked orders at Garcia, her eyes were stuck on the woman that writhed in pain, pleading with the masked man to spare her. But her rebuttals got weaker, her whimpers began to grow quieter, and soon he’d tackled her to the ground in a blood curdling scream, his whole body weight crushing her throat. 

Her own hand came up to cover her mouth that dropped open in shock, her eyes burning with tears that she couldn't let fall. It was this woman who was suffering, not her. 

There was a bit more struggling from the woman, her eyes bulging from her skull, lips turning blue, until she slumped beneath his hands, and he released her. 

She took a step back, bumping into a chair she hadn’t even known was there as her eyes fixed to the screen, and Spencer’s head shot around to see her shaking on the spot, her eyes haunted. 

Emily followed suit, but Spencer was already out of his seat, rushing forward to grab her arms and lead her outside. 

“I’m gonna get her some air,” He called behind him to the team that watched her go with forlorn glances, and he hated how he felt her trembling beneath his grip, grabbing onto his jacket just as tight. 

They made it halfway down the stairs before she bolted for the bathroom, and he heard her retching as he dipped into the room after her, not caring that the sign clearly stated it was for women. 

“I’m fine, Em, just give me a minute,” She said, and he heard the sniffles between her words. 

“It’s me,” He said, finding the one stall on the end that had it’s door engaged, pulling a cup from out of the dispenser and filling it at the water fountain, “You should drink some water, the cold helps reset your body’s instinct to fight or flight,” 

“Or in my case, make a complete fool of myself and take time away from a time sensitive investigation because I’m such a wuss,” She said cynically, coughing chestily and he heard the toilet flush. 

His forehead creased as he frowned. The door unlocked and she stepped out, her eyes red and teary as she gently took the water from his hands, and he rooted around his pocket for a stick of gum to give her. She chucked it in her mouth, letting the peppermint clear the vile taste from her mouth, hoping she didn’t look too gross. 

“You shouldn’t stand so close to me, toilet bowls are like full of germs and my heads just been in there, I know it makes you feel funny to be around germs-” He pushed her hair behind her ear as if to tell her to stop thinking so loud, and she couldn’t help smile sheepishly at him. “Do you think Hotch will be mad?” 

He shook his head instantly. 

“Mad? No. Worried? Incredibly.” Spencer replied, stroking her hair a little the way his mom used to when he felt sick. 

Bugsy shook her head, sniffing to herself a little more. 

She couldn’t stop seeing that woman’s face as the life slipped from her, the hands around her neck. The yelps and pleads and begs and she fought with everything in her.

“How long was it until you started feeling like this?” She asked earnestly, running a sleeve under her nose, “You’re so brave, I always knew you were but, since I started, it’s like I realised nothing really touches any of you anymore.”

He fought the incredulous laugh, him; brave? The man scared of the dark and elevators brave? 

“We all take things home with us at the end of the day,” He said, wiping under her eyes for her with his own cardigan cuff, “If you didn’t feel anything for the victims we help, you wouldn’t be human, Bug,”

She nodded, “I know. I just don’t want to let anyone down. Not you guys and especially not the people we’re helping,” 

“It’s for that reason I know you’re going to do great,” He said, giving her one of those small Spencer smiles he reserved for when he wanted to see one of hers. 

Her forehead thumped onto his chest as he pulled her a little closer, and his cheek fell on top of her hair as he ran gentle hands over the sides of her arms, calming her until her breath started evening out. 

“You never said,” She pointed out, “How long it took for you to start getting cold feet. Bet I beat some kind of record, two weeks is absolute dog shit,” She chuckled to herself, not noticing how his face evened out in sadness. 

It was Tobias Hankel that had done it. It was getting tied up and injected that had made him feel like a failure, like he wasn’t cut out for anything let alone the force. Like his life was taking a huge spiral downwards. 

But he wouldn’t tell her that, not yet at least. 

“Come on, let’s get you back,” He brushed off, and she figured it was a sore spot for him. She cursed herself for asking in the first place. 

Nodding, she downed the rest of the water and got herself a refill, following him out of the bathroom, looking back up at him for a moment.

“I forgot to say,” Bug said, nudging against his side with her whole body, knocking into him lovingly, “Your new hair is very… dashing. I really like it.”

He swore his face went crimson in a single second.

5. The one with his migraines

“Let me pay for your fuel at least,”

“Spence, just shut up and get in the car,”

That was around about how the past eight months had gone. Every day, she would drive by his apartment, Emily in the passenger seat of her little sisters beat up Renault Zoe, affectionately named after its model, the back seat reserved for Spencer’s lanky legs and satchel bag as she drove the three of them through through roads of Virginia, to work and back again. 

Sometimes he surprised her with coffee, sometimes Emily brought them donuts.  Either way, they all enjoyed their morning routine that had stood the test of time about as much as Bugsy had as part of the BAU. 

It had gotten easier after that first case; she still had her moments, but her skin had thickened to a point she barely remembered what her life had been like before that day Hotch asked her to join the academy. 

Things were going well, she felt settled, even with the new girl Seaver replacing JJ while Jareau was away on business in the pentagon. She couldn’t say she was the girl’s best friend, but they got along. And that was good enough for her. Her team was a well oiled machine. 

That was, except for Spencer. Spencer she worried for every day. 

She hated the way he twitched in the passenger seat, now his since she’d forced Emily to get the subway to work today, bitching eachother out in the way sisters did until the older woman left in a huff but without asking questions, and she left to take Spencer to the hospital. 

The sunglasses did little to stop his eyes hurting, his brain quite literally feeling as though it was pressing against his skull. He even turned down coffee this morning, and her stomach had dropped when she realised just how serious it was. 

He didn’t even question her when she held his hand tightly in hers as she walked him into the office, knowing he would hate every second of having this MRI done. 

“Everything’s going to be absolutely fine, they’re going to find what it is and we’re going to get you fixed right up to your perky self again,” She said, as they sat together outside the doctor’s office, keeping her voice calm and quiet as not to upset his delicate head even more. 

He nodded, appreciating her gentle touches on his hand, and he jumped in his seat when the door opened, his name being called through and he wished she could come with him. 

“You got this,” Bugsy smiled at him reassuringly when he looked hesitant, and nodded again, squeezing her hand once before he let go, following the nurse into the MRI room, wondering how he got so lucky to have a best friend like her. 

–

Spencer sighed, leaning back in his seat. The flight had not helped the building pressure in his head in the slightest. He looked up to the ceiling, closing his eyes as the harsh office lights beat against his face mercilessly. 

Two bodies found sacrificed to a 'higher being', their tongues and fingers cut off, shells put over their eyes and mouths. They had seen worse, perhaps not as odd, but they had seen worse. And yet this was the case that made him feel like his brain was about to explode right out his ears.

He hadn’t felt like this since he had been on Dilaudid, since he’d be on a come down and his whole body would sweat cold, and his head would rattle with every movement. And even that almost paled in comparison to how bad his head hurt right now. 

Spencer had wondered if that was what had done this to him, if it was a long term side effect of its use. He knew it wouldn’t be, but the self punishing part of him couldn’t help but fill his head with it. 

He just wanted answers. He just wanted it to stop. He just wanted to crawl into bed with an ice pack over his face and never surface again until this thing had subsided. 

Spencer felt hands in his hairline, fingernails weaving and massaging until he almost moaned, the touches releasing some of the metaphorical knots like magic at their fingertips, and he knew who it was, because that was how she always made him feel. 

He opened his eyes to see her very upside down as she looked down at him, their eyes inline with one another as she continued running her fingers against his temples gently. 

“You okay, handsome?” That was somewhat new, not that he was complaining. Part of him said she just felt bad for him and his weird brain, and maybe that was how it had always been, but ever since he had started getting these migraines she was impossibly even softer with him now. Like she was his comfort blanket he cuddled to when he was feeling particularly sorry for himself, and she knew it too. They were rarely not stuck together like velcro, where he moved, she moved. Where he sat, she was pressed against him like the concept of personal space had never been such a huge deal for him. 

And when his pain struck him down into the embodiment of a wounded doe, she was right there fluffing his pillows, grabbing him aspirin, massaging his head like she could grab the bastard migraine right out of his skull and say leave my precious boy alone. 

She was too sweet on him recently, but then he never wanted it to stop. It felt like a relationship without the kissing and especially without the sex. The thought of it made him want to moan again. 

“This one’s a stubborn one,” It had lingered around for three days straight, and the Miami heat wasn’t helping as he looked up at her inverted face, and he could tell she was smiling gently at him. 

She ran her thumbs over his eyebrows, smoothing them out and he sighed in delight as he felt the muscle begin to relax beneath her touch. 

“You make things better,” He confessed, her fingers tracing down his pretty nose, and he closed his eyes as she went over the bags beneath them. “You always do,” 

He felt her kiss his forehead for good luck, and he knew she hated seeing him in so much pain. He could have whined when she pulled away, letting go of him gently as Rossi stepped into the room, hoping he hadn’t seen the affection before too much teasing could come. 

But he said nothing, even if he had seen, just raised his eyebrows and grabbed the file off the desk for his own thorough look through. 

He sure as hell missed the way she interlaced their fingers under the desk though. 

–

Spencer twisted the bracelet around his wrist as they sat together outside the doctor's office. Orula’s ide. That was what Julio had called it. Said it would protect him from the bad spirits that clouded his head. 

Spencer was a man of science, a man of logic. But even he couldn’t quite explain how Julio had managed to figure out he was having migraines despite him not letting any infliction of pain cross his face, even more confused when Julio had said his body had been a conduit for a higher spirit who wanted to help him. 

He was glad to be back in Virginia where everything made sense to him. Where she could hold onto his knee at the doctor's office to stop it from bouncing and his team couldn’t tease or ask him what was wrong or make her stop touching him so much. 

“I say we get some ice on your head and put on whichever Doctor Who episode you want, don’t even care if we’ve seen it before,” She offered, smiling over at him and hoping he couldn’t see the worry in her eyes. 

He could. He just nudged her shoulder with his forehead to say thankyou without ruining the solace the quiet brought him. 

That is until his name was called, just as it was the last time he was here, and he stood to enter the office, not letting go of her hand as this time he’d made sure she could come. 

“That doesn’t make any sense,” He said as he sat on the bed, his doctor showing him the clear brain scans that hadn’t flagged a single neuron out of place. 

“I’m not sure what you want me to say,” His doctor replied, watching the way his female accomplice frowned, squeezing his hand tightly. 

“Isn't there any tests that would look for a specific prognosis we could try?” She asked, and the man shook his head. 

“Not unless we’ve ruled out every other option, and in this case I’d like to suggest that Dr. Reid’s condition might be psychosomatic in nature,” The doctor explained, wary of the way the two agents screwed their expressions up, almost identically, hearing his explanation of Spencer’s headaches. 

“Psychosomatic…” Spencer echoed softly, in near disbelief. 

That couldn’t be it. It had to be the Dilauded. Or a tumour. Or a long standing concussion. Something physical and tangible he could point out and get fixed.  

“It just means a mental or emotional cause-” The doctor explained, only to have Spencer cut him off. 

“No I know what ‘psychosomatic’ means Doctor, but it's not that,” He said, his voice tired; the idea he was making up his problem in his own head bothered him. 

“Well, I think it’s something we should consider.”

“Listen, I’m not crazy,” Spencer insisted, and he felt her tugging his hand closer to hers, her own way of comforting him when she couldn’t grab at his hair or face or jaw. 

“Dr Reid, I’m not saying-” But he was stopped by Spencer’s voice that was slowly growing more irate. 

“No, listen, I have headaches. I have increased sensitivity to light, because there’s something wrong with me physically. Not mentally. It’s not that,” He corrected the doctor, his sweet face pulled into a grumpy pout, almost offended that the professional was willing to write his pain off as a hallucinations. 

“That?” The doctor asked, a frown on his face as Spencer continued.

“Listen, doctor, my mother’s a paranoid schizophrenic who’s been institutionalised. So I know very well what mental illness looks like, maybe even better than you. It’s not that, it’s not.” Spencer said in a huff, standing from the bed and grabbing his satchel, all but pulling her from the room as she sped walked after him, her hand still tightly in his. 

She was gobsmacked. She didn’t know how she hadn’t seen it before, and suddenly every single instance of her whining about her mother to him entered her head and she felt a pit growing in her stomach that only had room for guilt. 

They sat in the car in silence, her hands at ten and two as she tried not to stare at him. 

She couldn’t stand the quiet in which he stewed, murmuring to himself every now and then about how that most certainly wasn’t what was causing his state to decline. 

“You never told me that before,” She said after a while, and it was quiet, whether to satiate his headache or because she didn’t know if she was allowed to say it he wasn’t sure. 

“It never came up,” He said in a way that left little question. He didn’t want to talk about it. 

They sat in the quiet some more, the only sound being the way her engine hummed beneath the bonnet, the music turned low for his pounding head, and he saw the way she chewed her lip and flicked glances at him from the driver's side.

He sighed, not wanting to snap at her the way he had the doctor, “Bug, would you please stop looking at me like that, like you pity me-”

“No, it’s not that it's…” She started carefully, her gaze flicking ot him for a moment as they stopped at a red light, “Every time I forget you’re the strongest person I know, you just seem to remind me,” 

And just like that his heart swelled all over again, and he felt like maybe his head wasn't an entire failure to him.

+1 The one with the eulogy.

This was hell on earth. 

She sat around the table at the funeral home with her mother to her left, her father and Stephanie to her right. 

She could feel the team’s eyes on her; she hadn’t spoken in days, her face shallow and off colour, sick looking. Speaking to her mother and father was difficult for her on a good day, let alone when she was all alone. 

Because that was how she looked, as if she were half a person now, her face bitter and angry as she tried to take up the least amount of space at the table as possible, her mother inspecting her finger beds as if they’d scorned her. 

“Sit up straight,” She chided, nudging her daughter's knee, but Bugsy made no move to adjust her posture. She just stared blankly at the ugly floral tablecloth, waiting for the other mourners to arrive, to give their sorrows, before they could move to the church. 

Emily was right next door. Cold. In a box. Her entire body was likely in rigour mortis now, her face was probably white as snow with the blood pooling away - pallor mortis Reid had called it - her hands were probably twisted and ugly like a raven's foot-

She couldn’t keep doing this to herself. And yet the thoughts wouldn’t stop, not even as Stephanie, step mother from heaven as she was, began to chime in to try lighten the mood. 

Her dad hadn’t said a word to her yet, just patted her on the head the way he hadn’t done since she was five. 

“It’s a lovely day for a funeral, don’t you think?” She commented, but her voice was too sweet, too soft, too normal to have the charm she’d intended. 

Stephanie wasn’t a bad person. Not evil or horrible like Bugsy had always thought a step mother would be. But she was the person her father had left little Bugsy for, and though she knew almost all of her anger had been displaced onto the poor woman when he’d told her he had a new wife, Stephanie had never exactly bothered to remedy their relationship. 

Emily and Bugsy had been someone else’s kids. Had been Richard Prentiss’ problems, not hers. And no amount of kindness she bothered to overcompensate with today would change the past twenty years her father had been too preoccupied to even call for her birthdays. 

Bugsy scoffed, ignoring the warning look from her father. He knew very well how his youngest felt about his wife. 

“Mr and Mrs Prentiss,” Hotch came over, as if sensing the girl’s annoyance at the woman’s words, and she mentally could have planted a kiss right on Aaron’s lips when he made the effort to exclude Stephanie in his condolences, “I’m so sorry for your loss. Losing a child is a devastation I never would wish on anyone,” 

“Thank you for your kind words, Mr Hotchner,” The step mother piped up again, before either of them could say anything, and Bugsy shot her a look so full of hatred, Aaron thought she might have slapped her right then and there. 

Richard cleared his throat, moving to put an arm around Steph’s chair, one that she’d pulled up to the table herself. 

If there was one thing Elizabeth and Bugsy would ever agree on it was that Stephanie was intolerable. 

Her mother looked empty as she nodded at Hotch, crossing her legs properly and pursing her lip, not saying anything. She’d never seen her mother cry, and she doubted that would start today. Elizabeth was much too of a proud woman to weep in front of the masses. 

“Thanks, Hotch,” Bugsy said the first words she had in days, the only time she’d gotten out of bed was to feel Niko and Sergio or to use the bathroom. Her voice was raspy, ghost like, and it scared the crap out of him. 

He couldn’t see her getting through this alive. 

With Haley, he’d had Jack to get him through it, keep him going, if not to put on a front for his little boy that was the spitting image of his wife. But Bug had nothing left of her sister, nothing but herself and two parents that couldn’t stand to look at one another without screaming curses. 

The other’s had already given their condolences, had already bombarded her with enough letters, flowers, stuffed teddies to fill a house, and she knew she wasn’t being fair ignoring them when they were grieving too. If not just as much as she was. 

But she couldn’t do anything, couldn’t be anything except this shell of a woman once called Bugsy. Her sister gave her that name, she didn’t think she deserved it anymore. 

Spencer just wished she would cry. He had been sobbing non stop, even where his eyes were puffy and red as Garcia’s as they stood in the funeral home, the smell of incense too strong, the sounds of wails too loud. But she looked… he hated to say it, she looked dead.

“That poor little lamb,” Penelope sniffled, tears already streaking down her cheeks as Derek tucked her under his arm, pulling her close into his smart black suit, “I wished she would let us in,”

“That girl is a carbon copy of Emily, of course she’s going to take herself off to lick her wounds,” Rossi said, his own fancy blazer stuffed with tissues in case his dark eyes welled up with tears again. He’d already managed to save himself once this morning before leaving the house, but he didn’t trust himself anymore than that. 

Spencer missed her smile more than anything, though he himself was struggling to muster anything past a grimace. 

“The Spring flowers are all in bloom, isn’t that lovely?” Stephanie continued, an easy grin on her face as she looked out of the window to the graveyard, as if she was entirely unaware of the grief lingering in the room, “I think she'll like it here,”

That was it. 

That was what pushed Bugsy over the edge, even Elizabeth broke her cold facade to look at the other women in shock, her daughter’s eye twitching as her head snapped to Stephanie, a rage encompassing her entire face.

“What the fuck would you know what she liked or didn’t like, Stephanie? She barely even fucking liked you,”  Bugsy hissed, drawing the attention of a few of the mourners with her vitriol anger. 

That wiped the smile off the woman’s face harder than any slap could have. 

“You watch your mouth, young lady,” Richard snapped, his face a blazen rage as Stephanie cowered behind him. 

Bugsy scoffed, and Hotch knew by the sound of it alone, something had been lit inside her that was about to go off like a hand grenade. 

He couldn’t say he blamed her. 

“I don’t know why you even bothered showing up, Dad. You’ve not seen either one of us since Emily left college,” She spat back, her eyes wild like a cat ready to claw its way out of a fight, “Surprised you even remember my name now you have your shiny new family and your million honeymoons to keep you busy,”

Richard stood from his chair, his black three piece creasing as he pointed in her face, his hand shaking with rage, and she saw the tears well in his eyes that looked too much like her own for her comfort. 

“You are turning out to be just like your mother, pushing away anyone who ever cared about you.” He barked, not caring that a few mourners turned to look at him in shock, “Don’t come crying back to me when you end up alone, little lady,” 

And with that he took Stephanie’s hand, who was the patron saint of guilt as of now, a face like a scolded child, too naive for the grown woman she really as. At least she had finally shut up, Bugsy thought darkly as her father stormed out of the home, ignoring the way faces watched hers carefully, knowing every word he’d said had been true. 

She thinks for a minute if Emily was here she’d poke fun at the way Steph’s face had been hilarious when her smile had dropped, or that her dad still had the worst temper out of them all, Bug included. She thinks that if Emily were here, she’d tell her he’d said all that stuff out of anger, and that she won’t end up alone, and that she’d always be with her.

She thinks that if Emily were here, she wouldn’t feel the empty nothingness where shame and sadness would be after having that entire thing play out infront of so many onlookers. 

But Emily wasn’t there. And she couldn’t even say she was shocked when her mother stood from her seat besides her too. 

“Where are you going?” Bugsy snarled, the Ambassador looking somewhat concerned before the expression fell and she went back to an equally lost look of her own. 

“I refuse to be made a spectacle of today,” Elizabeth said detachedly, collecting her purse over her black midi dress, her painted nails skimming the handle gently, “I can say my own goodbyes to your sister later, when everyone has left,” 

Coward. Coward. Coward. Bugsy wanted to scream after her, wanted to tear her hair out, wanted to grab the two of them by the neck and make them feel the way her words trapped inside her and clawed at her throat, sitting inside like a moth bouncing against a window trying to escape. 

But she said nothing. Did nothing, as her mother left the home, left her sitting there alone, until the officiant came over to her not even a moment’s later and told her it was time to start the funeral. 

And then she truly felt as if she would never be whole again. 

–

Her hands shook as she got to the podium. She’d always hated public speaking, which Spencer thought was odd since she seemed to grab the attention of every room she walked into like it was second nature. She didn’t even bat an eyelid at chasing down a criminal or being shot at or evening chewing out a detective that wasn’t pulling his weight, but speaking to a handful of decorated officers that watched her with grieving eyes was too much. 

Adjusting the mic to a more appropriate height, they watched her eyes scan the room, her brows scrunched, her mouth dry. Trying to find Emily, Hotch realised with a crack in his chest. The way she always did when she was nervous. The way she did when she was looking for Emily to come save her. 

“H-hi, um,” Her voice shook, her fingers fiddling with the chord for something to do, “Mom- Ambassador Prentiss got called out on business so I guess I’ll be giving the eulogy,” 

No one spoke, not even the ones who knew it was a lie, her eyes falling to where Spencer gave her a sad smile, some sort of encouragement for her to keep going, though his eyes were red and bloodshot, and he was sure the burn in his throat was rising again. 

She hadn’t cried yet. Penelope had cried four times today alone. 

“I- um, I wasn’t really prepared for a speech, so I’m, um, I’m just going to read the letter I wrote to her if that’s okay?” Her head shot to the priest who had handed the spotlight over to her, the warm spring breeze pulling at his robes as he nodded, his hand gesturing for her to continue. 

She cleared her throat, tearing the envelope open, and the paper rattled in her fingertips with her shaking hands as she pulled out the double sided A4 that had been written on in neat blue ink. 

Unfolding it, she let her gaze rip off the crowd of people who stared at her, waiting for whatever it was she had to say, the final words her sister’s body would hear before she was put in the ground forever. The last goodbye. The only one that had ever mattered. 

“Dear Emily,” Bugsy read, her voice finding footing as she was able to look away from the hundreds of eyes that watched her tearfully. But it was the wrong move. Because the minute she’d prepared herself to say the words out loud she felt her eyes well up. 

This was it. The last chance she would ever get to tell Emily how she felt. How sorry she was. How she was so damn sorry for being such a shitty person for so many years, for never saying thank you enough, for never hugging her when she really ought to have, for never appreciating how lucky she was to have a sister like her. 

Her throat clogged, and she sucked in a deep breath, releasing a trembling sigh. Her bottom lip quivered. 

“Sorry-” She apologised to the watchers, rubbing her mouth nervously, hoping no one could see just how deeply she had broken, just how harsh the wound had gaped open, “Dear Emily,” She started again;

“Everyone thinks they know what a sister is; it's the woman you share fifty percent of your DNA with who you’re put on this earth to annoy the shit out of,” A small wet laugh reverberated around the crowd, and she flashed a small smile at her own words. “But the truth is you can actually share up to sixty-one percent of your genes with one of your siblings. Which is crazy to me, because I know no matter how hard I try, I will never be even one percent of the woman you are,” 

She swallowed heavily, and she heard Penny burst out crying again, her head buried in Morgan’s neck. 

“If I was as gracious as you, I’d probably say you’re in a better place now, and if I was as brave, we probably wouldn’t even be here, because I would have been able to save you that day instead of just watching like a fly on the wall.” The first tear fell then, her face crumpling in pain. “If I was as considerate as you, I would be able to look every one of your friends in the eyes and tell them it would all be okay in the end. And if I was even the tiniest bit as kind as you, then I would have told you all of this to your face when it actually mattered.”

She sniffed heavily, and Derek did the same, his own throat burning, picking the thread on his nice trousers as Penelope’s tears wet his shirt through. 

“Everyone thinks that true love is finding someone you want to marry and have children with, but I know now that’s not the entirety of it. Love is a person you want to spend every day making happy, and make them proud to say they love you too.” Her chin wobbled some more as she read the next few sentences with something darker than remorse in her glassy eyes, “I sometimes think, if we were given a second chance, if we could try again, I would be able to tell you that I truly love you, Emily, and that you’re the only person I ever cared about loving me too,”

Her voice cracked, and she regarded the paper with misty eyes, her cheeks soaked as she quickly wiped them with the back of her white, lace gloves. 

“I think maybe next time I wouldn’t be so spoiled and bratty, and you could have been more relaxed and maybe less like my mom at times, but I think if we could do it over, we could have done it right, the way sisters are supposed to,” She sniffed, missing the way Spencer’s face dripped with tears of his own, her words tearing him inside and out with the guilt in every line. “But I guess it’s too late for that now. I only got one chance to be your sister and I failed, no matter how many times you pulled through for me. And that’s a debt I’ll never be able to repay.”

She braved a look at the closed casket, imagining her big sister, the only person she ever truly loved laying in there with fair, snow skin, her noir hair sitting perfectly like a princess in the fairytales she used to read to her before bed. Only this one had no happy ending. This one ended with her heart torn from her chest, bleeding for the rest of her days until her own body was buried and everyone could mourn the girl who was barely half the woman her sister was, no matter what the statistics say.

“I’m sorry, Emily” It was the first time she’d said the two words that had been playing in her head on a loop for weeks, the two words that sang to her like a mantra, every morning, noon and evening. Even in her sleep she had dreams where she could do nothing but scream into a void of darkness, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. It should have been me, I’m sorry. “I hope you can forgive me,” She whimpered through a sob, ignoring the way her cheeks gushed with fat tears now, as she wept freely at the podium, her hands no longer shaking. 

“Lots of love, your shitty baby sister, Bugsy.” She finished with a small whine, her expression broken as she folded the letter back up and placed it in the envelope, the cursive lettering of her big sister’s name staring back at her. Finishing where she’d started. 

Tucking the letter underneath a tulip wreath atop the coffin, she stepped back down off the podium, ignoring the way the eyes followed her back to her seat, ignoring the way Derek rubbed her shoulder affectionately, or the way JJ handed her a packet of tissues, even though her own face was flooded, and showed no signs of stopping. She felt Spencer grab her hand in his delicately, entwining their fingers together, and squeezing lightly. 

The priest continued with a hymn, though she didn’t bother singing it. She just stared at her shoes, as if her entire soul had been sucked from her the minute she’d ended the eulogy. 

Which it had, because that had been Emily’s last goodbye. 

She didn’t speak in the car on the way back to Spencer’s, not as Hotch pulled her in for a wide hug, rare and warm, even going so far as to stroke the back of her head with more affection than they’d ever seen him give her. 

“Call me if you need anything,” He’d murmured into the side of her head as he held her close, feeling two hands hesitantly wrap around his waist, as if she wasn’t entirely switched on which, going by the vacant look on her face she wasn’t. 

Spencer made her tea the moment they got in. She didn’t ask for it, she just sat on the sofa and stared at the beat up, old TV he kept only for the occasional documentary, and for the shows she liked to watch too of course. But she hadn’t even switched it on, just stared at the inky black glass like it would jump to life itself and tell her how to feel. 

He took a seat next to her, on the other end of the couch, flicking the screen on for something to stop it from being so silent in his home; the silence meant they were alone with their thoughts, and for once he and his thoughts couldn’t stand being together. He didn’t want to interrupt her, or be the first to break the quiet. Not even when he watched her tea go cold in front of her, or as she barely acknowledged the cartoon on the TV, or when he pulled out his copy of The Brothers Karamazov that he’d been re-reading for the third time. 

“Would you like me to read to you? Would that be better?” He asked tentatively, and she didn’t even blink, as if she were some sort of zombie or corpse sitting next to him programmed for instruction on acting human. 

She said nothing, but she did move, the act of it making him jump slightly, and it was then he realised she had been perfectly still for the past half an hour, barely even showing signs of breath. A puppet with no master. 

She leaned over, her body dropping onto the sofa softly as if she was taking a nap, only for her head to rest on his thigh, and his hand flew to pull the claw clip out of her hair like he read her mind. Her knees nestled to her chest, in foetal position, her pretty black dress, the same one she’d worn for Haley’s funeral riding up past her knees. 

He gently tucked his long fingers into her roots, stroking her hair like she were a tame cat curled in his lap, clearing his voice as he continued where he’d left off, making sure he wasn’t reading too fast the way he would if it was just him. 

His head still whirled around the eulogy she’d read. How watching her crack beneath the weight of her own words had hurt him more than his own grief, had made him bury whatever it was he felt and just need to put her back together again. 

Because he didn’t need an eidetic memory to have ingrained what she’d said into his head, not even as they went to bed, and she burrowed into his side in one of his sweatshirts he usually saved for his own bad days. 

“Bug,” He braved to say, watching her eyes force themselves open from where they were on the very lip of sleeping, “You’re my very best friend, did you know that?” 

She hummed, her nose digging into his arm that he wound under her head, pulling her close enough he could feel her heartbeat against his own where she was in the crook of his neck. 

“I love you,” She said, like those three words didn’t rip the air from his lungs. 

Not even as her breathing finally evened out, and he felt himself heave a sigh of relief; the bags under her eyes had been more noticeable today than ever. Not even when he dared a kiss to her forehead as she slept, the smell of her shampoo completely taking over his pillow as he allowed his own heart to hurt for just a few moments, missing his friend dearly as he looked after the woman.

Love is a person you want to spend every day making them happy, and make them proud to say they love you too. 

He knew then.

–

TAGLIST

@release-your-sweets @smileykiddie08 @caramelised-onions@the-tpd-bau @stephthepeach @sunflowersndpeaches @sammy-4103 @starmansirius @yeonalie @delusionallooney @hades-disappointment-child @sadbae-33

[i-am-hungry-24-7]

[Rambling Something in Few Sentences - Fluff version]

TF141*Reader. Different Seasons with different members, Same love and FLUFF 🫡💖pls come here if you want angst version :D

Gaz - Spring

“Hey Kyle, this shop got cherry blossom theme donuts!” He gets pulled to the bakery and comes out with 10 donuts in the paper bag.

“They have a Spring discount for chocolates, let’s buy some!” another 5 bags of white chocolates are added to the bag.

“New marshmallows for picnic? we can eat this on our picnic next week!”He watches you grab 3 different flavors and head to the counter.

“Didn’t you just tell me you’re on a diet yesterday?”

“What did you just say, Garrick?”

“Nothing, honey.”

Ghost - Summer

“the weather just makes the air humid and stinky”

“Two windmills are standing on a wind farm, One asks, “What’s your favorite type of music?””

“mmhmm”

“The other says, “I’m a big metal fan.” “

“Thank you baby, the room’s fucking dry now.”

“Good.” He doesn’t move his eyes from the pages, just pats your head that’s resting on his chest and keeps reading.

Soap - Autumn

“Finally finish cleaning these shite.” Johnny wipes off the sweat on his forehead and proudly looks at the leaves you two just swept into a huge pile.

“...”

“Bonnie?”

He jumps when he sees you staring at the pile of leaves, and suddenly start dashing and jumping into it with face down.

“damn Johnny this is fun!” Your muffled voice coming when you wiggle your limbs like a starfish makes him burst into laughter.

Fuck it, it won’t kill him to do this whole thing again. He thinks as he runs and slumps into the leaves beside you and drags you into his embrace, enjoying your warm body pressed against him and the pleasant giggles from you.

Price - Winter

“Best ways to warm yourself, number 1: shoving your sock feet into your husband’s sweater.” He chuckles when you tuck your feet under his sweater and rest them on his tummy.

“Best ways to warm yourself, number 2: rob your husband’s blanket.” He scoots closer to you on the couch when you wrap his blanket tightly around you two.

“Best ways to warm yourself, number 3: hug your husband like you’re a koala and steal his warmth.” You sitting on his lap and clinging to him like he’s a trunk makes his heart melt at your cuteness.

“Best ways to warm yourself, number 4” He scoops you up and carries you back to the bedroom “Have a pretty partner and show your love to them on your bed.”

[redsrooftopprincess]

Gravity (Part 3)

Last chapter? Idk. Taking suggestions on what to call this.

Asks are open, but I don't have a lot of free time and I'm new at this so be gentle. 😅

Okay, let's face it, you're not here for me. On with the show.

Warnings: alcohol, hypothermia

chai-tea level spice.

gn (w/ longish hair) reader x Raphael

Page 1 Page 2

You're anxious tonight. You aren't sure why. Maybe it's the weather. You hate when the boys are out on nights like this. Another rumble of thunder shakes the near empty glass of wine on the coffee table, and you glance at the window which offers nothing more than a void. Unhelpful.

You'd drifted through the week, distracted. That night, and his words, echoing your head. Even April had noticed. Eyeing you one morning while sipping her coffee.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Huh?" You looked up from the cereal you were supposed to be eating. By now, the marshmallows had half dissolved.

"I said... What's wrong with you?" April asked, sitting down at the table across from you and looking you up and down.

"Nothing," you reassured unconvincingly, your eyes darting back down to the generic cereal, which was pretty swiftly becoming a thick sugary soup. You poked at it a few times with your spoon.

She'd let it go, but you caught her watching you closely a few times. Screw her and her journalism instincts.

You and Raphael had always been close. He'd been standoffish at first, acting in his self-appointed role of family guardian, but it didn't take long before you were endeared to him, and not long after that you were spending nearly all your free time together.

More than a few times you've gotten sideways glances from his family. You're so in-sync that you almost seem like a couple at times. You laugh and cry together, and talk deep into the night about things you just can't tell anyone else. He's become your person, and you his.

The last few weeks have been hard on the both of you, and the last week has been the hardest. You dont want to push, especially not right now, nothing important should be discussed right now, but you don't know where his head is at and you're worried.

You frown at the television, readjusting your position on the couch and scrolling to find something to watch. You are attempting to settle in to some exceptionally stupid movie (this way, when April asks what you did tonight, you don't have to lie) when you hear something heavy hit the roof.

He didn't make a sound if he didn't want to. Usually he would land just hard enough that you would know he was there. They all did, out of courtesy. Like a knock at the door. But this was different. Clumsy.

You stare out into the pitch black, grabbing your phone and sending the call. It goes to voicemail.

Raph was always encouraging you to trust your instincts and right now, your instincts were screaming that something was very *very* wrong.

You toss your phone on the couch and are out the window and halfway up the fire escape without a second thought. You're soaked through in seconds and shivering, but you slow before you crest the roof. You shout into the squall.

"Listen Red, I know you don't want to see me right now, but you're not answering your phone and I need to know that you're okay. Okay?"

You wait for a response and there is none, which doesn't make you feel better. You finally reach the roof, and suddenly neither the cold, nor the rain matter.

Sheets of rain and sleet crash over his fallen form like waves, and you run to him. He's freezing cold. Damn it. He'd promised you he'd gotten that fixed. You don't bother checking for a pulse. Your hands are borderline numb, and you probably wouldn't be able to feel it, anyway.

You call his name and make a valiant attempt at shaking him awake.

Somewhere in the depths of unconsciousness he hears you, but he fights it. He wants to stay. He likes it here. It's soft and warm and safe. The world behind him is cold and hard, full of pain and longing. He wants this. He wants this peace.

Then he hears you call his name again, and there's no contest.

He stirs and it's raining so hard that the only way you can tell you're crying is the warmth on your cheeks. You hear him groan weakly. You need to get him inside.

You know you can't physically help him in any way, but you make the attempt. You know it's not going to work, but at least now you can say you tried. He could feel free to laugh at you later.

After very much not budging your beloved behemoth so much as an inch, you lean down next to him.

"I'm gonna need your help here, Bruiser, you know I can't carry you."

A Herculean feat, but he manages to pull himself to near standing. You help him as best you can down the fire escape. It's slow going and he nearly passes out twice, but eventually you make it inside.

He doesn't make it to the couch, but collapses in front of it, sitting on the floor and leaning back against it. His eyes are closed and his breathing slow, you snatch your phone from the cushion behind him and call Donnie.

He doesn't pick up.

You call again.

"Yes. What. Do you need something?" He snaps, exasperated, as if you interrupted a hyperfocus (which, let's face it, you probably did).

"Raph is soaked and freezing and in my apartment. Get the fuck over here and fix your damn tech." You end the call and toss the phone on the couch.

You could apologize later.

You sprint to the linen closet and grab a stack of towels, tossing them into the dryer and turning it on. You quickly change into something dry, before running back to the reptile. You thank whatever god of foresight made you force Raphael teach you how to remove his gear just in case, and get to work.

Your hands don't want to cooperate at first, but adrenaline is one hell of a drug, and you have his waterlogged equipment off in record time. You retrieve the now warmed towels from the dryer and return to him. You lay a couple over his carapace, and use the others to start drying him off.

By the time you finish toweling off his extremities, he is once again beginning to stir. You step over his legs, straddling him while standing to better reach behind his head, and as you lean against him your warmth radiates through his plastron like a sun.

Almost involuntarily, his hands raise to rest at your lower back, pressing you gently against his chest.

You gasp as his hands slide under the back of your shirt, searching for warmth. His hands are still freezing cold, but you're pretty sure the gooseflesh rippling over your skin is unrelated.

You finish toweling off just under his shell, behind his head, and pull back, bracing a hand on his shoulder. As you do, his hands move to your waist and you try to ignore how they nearly envelope you.

You look down at him as his eyes slowly open and smile softly. It's obvious he's still pretty out of it.

Wreathed in warm lamplight, you look ethereal, and when his eyes finally focus on you, he thinks he's either dreaming, or dead (with his luck, probably the latter). The moment you place a warm hand against his face he decides he doesn't care.

"Hey Bruiser," you say quietly, smiling softly as your thumb wipes a drop of water from his cheek, "you're safe, the boys are on their way." The sound of your voice pours into him like warm honey and he closes his eyes with a sigh.

Reaching up to the back of your head, he pulls you gently toward him to rest your forehead against his. It was something you started doing to him not long after you became close, whenever he would get really worked up. You weren't sure if it was the physical proximity or the emotional comfort, but it seemed to help ground him. In reality, it's the closest he would ever allow himself to kissing you, and that thought by itself was very, very grounding.

But he is still warming up, still half conscious. You are filling his senses and it's overwhelming. The curtain of your hair falls around his face, and he feels drunk on your scent. You're so soft beneath his hands and the one around your waist tightens gently.

There is only about two more weeks left in the season, but it's by no means over, and something old and primal stirs in his DNA. He presses your head more firmly against his as intelligence and instinct battle within him for control.

You are his *mate*. And it is *time*. And you are *right here*.

Besides, regardless of whether he's dreaming or dead, it doesn't ultimately matter. He can't hurt you if you aren't real.

He lifts his chin, brushing his lips softly against yours. When you don't pull away in disgust he grows a little more bold, and kisses you in earnest.

It would be a lie to say that you hadn't been thinking about it more-or-less from the beginning, how different it would feel than kissing a human. Admittedly, you'd been a little worried about the mechanics, but any concerns you had dissolve when his mouth fits so perfectly against yours.

His body still feels like lead, but his mind is growing sharper, and about the time you are kissing him back he realizes how very real this is. Unfortunately, his reptile brain realizes it first.

His hand grips your waist as his kiss deepens, and there is a deep rumble within his chest that you can feel inside your own. When his thumb brushes over your abdomen you can't help the involuntary sound that escapes you.

The sound is like a starting pistol and suddenly you're flush against him and his mouth is on your throat, pressing open mouthed kisses along your jawline, blood burning in his veins at the way your heartbeat quickens under his tongue.

You had to stop this. If this was going to happen it shouldn't be like this. Right now he's borderline drugged, and if you let this happen and he later thought you didn't actually want it? You can't imagine the fallout.

But you'd had a few glasses of wine this evening, and Gods, he felt *so* good.

When his teeth graze your pulse point your attempt at a deep breath becomes a gasp, and you close your eyes to steady yourself. You had to get his attention.

You attempt to say his name, but it tumbles out of your mouth as a sigh.

"... want you..." He murmurs into your shoulder. The way his breath scatters over your skin like a shower of sparks is doing nothing to help you regain control of yourself or the situation.

He begins kissing down to your clavicle, both hands now at your waist, and despite knowing what this is, where it's going, and why it needs to stop, you can't help placing a hand on the back of his head to pull him closer.

"Sweetheart, we should really talk about this first..." you attempt again, but the tremor in your voice is the only thing that seems to register.

He holds onto you like a lifeline, as if he was drowning and you were his only oxygen. When he grips you tighter and his thumb presses into the hollow of your hip, you almost buckle. A moan escapes, despite your best efforts, and your nails scrape against the back of his neck.

The rumble in his chest grows deeper and he shifts beneath you, movement becoming easier as his temperature rises.

The sound of three very heavy things landing very softly comes from overhead.

The two of you break apart, flushed and breathless, and look at each other in shock.

You glance at the fire escape when you hear the metal rattle outside, before looking back into bewildered amber eyes.

"We're gonna talk about this," you say. He looks at you as if he doesn't understand. "When this is all over, and your brain is no longer swimming in hormone soup... We're gonna talk about this..."

He blinks up at you, a hesitant hope blossoming behind his eyes as you smile down at him, "... because I'm tired of not talking about it."

(Fin)

[brittle-doughie]

Baking the Special Pie! | Looking into the 8th Anniversary for CROB!

8 years, god damn. I remember back during the second one when DJ Cookie dropped.

———————————————————————

Candy Corn Cookie wants to make a particular kind of pie that can only be done under a full pumpkin moon. She meets up with Everything Pie Cookie (who’s quite scrumptious~) who can help her make it, albeit with needing a bunch of different things to put into the pie.

While the event mode itself isn’t explained, I’m sure everyone is just dying for it to be different this time.

You’ll need to bash these pumpkin piñatas to get rewards, I’m assuming these will be this event’s version of the wish boxes that the previous anniversary and the special seasons had. They’ll also have puzzle pieces that will allow you to put them together for a little extra story to previous events, like what CRK does for their anniversaries.

Did you know that these piñatas were done in Spine, CRK’s animation engine?

Costumes are coming to this update and they’re abundant! Starting with the designated Super Epic for Candy Corn Cookie! Followed up with an Epic one for Adventurer Cookie and Marshmallow Cookie, topping off with Rares for Angel and Devil, and Sparkling!

Mid-November will have Everything Pie’s Super Epic, Blackberry’s Epic outfit along with Rares for Wizard and Sorbet! As I said, a lot of costumes, so have your cubes ready!

Raid Run is getting a change as well, Doughstomper is moving, woag. You’ll need to reach a score for phase 1 before you’ll get to face Doughstomper for phase 2, where you’ll give it your all with raid skills. Forming teams has been made easier and the rewards are more streamlined.

Lobby is getting a change where you can now place two cookies in the lobby and you’ll be able to adjust their spot and pose. I just know the many images and memes people will make with this, lol.

They’ll be taking a page out of CRK’s book and adjusting the screens to make them easier to read.

With all of this and a simple, cozy story that’s reminiscent of early CROB, this anniversary is going to be pretty great! I mean, let’s face it, you can’t be any more poor than the 6th anniversary, lol.

———————————————————————

You looked out the window from the train to the outside, illuminated by the moonlight. Candy Corn Cookie was on the seat opposite to you, she look excited as she pats her seat.

Candy Corn Cookie: “What do you think the pie will taste like, Y/N Cookie?”

You: “With what the recipe is telling us to get, it’s pretty much up in the air at this point. Maybe apple flavor? Guitar flavor? Or perhaps just pumpkin, hehe!”

Candy Corn Cookie: “I can’t wait to share it with everyone at the pie party when we get back! It’s going to be the most delicious pie ever!”

You: “Yeah, I’m sure it will be great…”

You turn to your side, seeing Everything Pie Cookie leaning on your shoulder, sleeping. Her hand gently holding yours.

You: “Pretty great….”

Candy Corn Cookie: “Hehe, you like her~”

You: “Don’t say that out loud, you.”

[oldhalloweentape]

🪨Venture (OW II) x (gn) reader ⛏️

(Love Language Pt. I Edition!)

(Not my picture!)

(I just keep having ideas, and the insatiable urge to write them down so, enjoy :))

Their love language: Physical Touch, Quality Time, Gift Giving, and Words of Affirmation (Pt. II!)

Physical Touch

- As I mentioned in the previous post (here), they love physical touch, especially with you, it’s just so natural to them.

- While on the job at Overwatch, the PDA is at a low, for obvious reasons.

- Though the second the mission is over, they almost immediately have to urge to wrap their arms around you and give you a big squeeze.

- Loves hand holding, rubs their thumb over the front of your hand and knuckles as they give you the details of the last expedition they did.

- Also likes putting their head on your shoulder, especially on the days you both are in bed and don’t have to do anything.

- Kisses with them are a must of course, with their kisses usually being quick yet affectionate but can be long and soft if the situation requires it.

- Their all-time favorite spots to kiss you in on the forehead, cheek, and lips. But they’d kiss you anywhere if you ask.

- They just love to pepper kisses all your face after an especially long day, their favorite activity actually.

- If they’re feeling a bit sillier than usual or you need some cheering up, they make loud smooching noises when they’re kissing you, usually doing it during cheek kisses.

- In general, Venture is a love bug and just can’t help spreading their affection, can’t get enough of you lol.

Quality Time

- This and physical touch go in tandem with one another, when they can’t touch you, it’s ok!

- They can always settle for being in your presence, being with you is always a positive in their eyes, and you just make things all the better.

- Wants to do so much and experience so much with you, meaning dates consist of mostly outdoor activities.

- Think like camping, hiking, running, and exploring in general, even if you just want to walk around a nearby park they’re all for it!

- They just love nature and they love you, so, the best of both worlds. Also, it’s a way for them to use up all that energy they just naturally exude besides their line of work.

- The camping dates are the nicest, just you, them, nature, and the bear you guys chose over a man.

- Jokes aside, the many moments between the two of you they cherish with all of their heart, remembering the littlest of details.

- You guys could be folding laundry together on a lazy Sunday only for them to break the silence of the room, “Hey, you remember that one time we went camping and you got some melted chocolate and marshmallows stuck in your hair cause you accidentally slept while you were eating?” Queue the slow head turn and side eye they get from you that just sends them into a giggling fit.

- They try their best to capture and memorize every minute, having photos of you and your guy’s escapades framed for everyone to see, or in various handmade scrapbooks filled with stickers of geodes, crystals, etc on every page.

- The little things in life, alongside someone they love as much as they love you is something they revel in, I can’t express enough how they are extremely happy to be with you.

(Will try to get Pt. 2 for Beginning relationship and Love Language out as soon as I can!!)

[spookypete-94]

Simon "Ghost" Riley Masterlist

List of everything so far that will involve Ghost on my page. I write for female readers! Please enjoy :)

Drabbles:

O-

Eight Lines (part 1)

Eight Lines (part 2) NSFW

Diamond Semi NSFW

I know you SFW Halloween story

Helium

Take a Picture SFW Halloween story

Take a Picture (part 2) NSFW

Perverse Simon (part 1) Stolen Deodorant

Perverse Simon (part 2) Stolen Panties

Perverse Simon (part 3) Stolen Lotion

Perverse/Sweet Simon (part4) Cause and Effect

Intimidating

Strange Christmas Tradition

Friday Ice Cream

House Shopping with Simon Riley

In Control

Nightgown

"Under My Skin"

Marshmallows

Difficult Gratitude GhoapXFem!reader

Coveted Part 1 GhoapXFem!reader

Devored Part 2 GhoapXFem!reader (in progress)

Pregnant by Proxy

So Imagine

Black Flag

Choices have Consequences part 1

Choices have Consequences part 2

Spirit of Halloween

Series:

Beastie Chapter 1 Can use this chapter to find the other chapters. Still a work in progress

Nightmare's Wasteland Masterlist

Dead!GhostxLiving!Reader

[luminouslotuses]

q!jaiden and the bittersweet cycle of losing and loving

light by which i read by eric pankey // @sunrisepaintings // bobby fields qsmp wiki page // @keirawantstocry // jaiden updates on twitter // SAVING THE EGGS youtube stream // @keirawantstocry // MATANDO O CELLBIT PRA FICAR SEM VIDA NENHUMA twitch stream (reposted here) // @cubitozinc // petal by musubu hagi // @keirawantstocry // screenshots from 1/2/24 (reposted here) // wade by clairo // @sunrisepaintings // marshmallow by victoria hannan // musubu hagi on instagram // wade by clairo // @keirawantstocry

[meltthefrozenheart]

Revealing these questions at D23 is a good signal for Frozen 3 & 4

<Coming out of Frozen 2 we still had questions, a lot of questions actually. That's just page one. Now you see why it will take two films to answer them> - Jennifer Lee

Now, we all are speculating about the direction these two new movies will lead us, but I think the most interesting aspect is how much they anticipated these questions to the audience. I won't disect them because a lot of people already did that and it would be too long for me, but still, I think it's important to consider what all this might mean.

When it came down to Frozen 2, they didn't anticipate that much to the audience until it was the D23 Expo of 2019 and for the most part they were left mostly for the interviews that these questions (here a ScreenRant article for example):

Here they decided instead to go with a 3 years anticipation about what the two movies will mostly be about. This means they have already an idea of where they are headed, at least premises wise.

I think the most important aspect here is that the questions put on stage connect back to both Frozen and Frozen 2.

F2 already did that by answering a couple of important questions connected to the first movie:

Why Agnarr and Iduna chose such an extreme course with their daughters? The trauma of what happened 34 years before in the Enchanted Forest

Where were the parents headed to which led to their deaths? They were trying to sail through the Dark Sea to reach Ahtohallan and have answers about Elsa powers

Why Elsa was born with her icy powers? As a gift because Iduna saved Agnarr's life when they were little despite being on opposite sides

In that case those were all things connected to the sisters and their parents, basically focusing mainly on the prologue part of F1.

As we can see, the Frozen 3/4 questions extend beyond Anna & Elsa, allowing other important characters like Kristoff, Sven, Olaf, Marshmallow & the Snowgies and even Hans to appear in this list. Yeah, maybe some will most likely be for fun and quickly answered (the iconic Oaken expression for example), but it doesn't sound much logical to spent two movies just to maybe make fun of some characters, that sounds pretty stupid.

I think it's clear the intention here is basically the same when they were making Frozen 2: trying to give a sense of complition and clearness to the saga as a whole, not simply introducing a new situation with new characters.

Even questions related to the ruins in Ahtohallan, the idea of a previous Fifth Spirit, getting a better understanding of Elsa's evergrowing powers and see the challenges Anna will face as Queen are all elements that most likely will allow to expand the world of Frozen beyond the Arendelle and Northuldra borders.

After all, even the Frozen 3 concept art only give us an initial idea of what we will see but, just like the F1 concept always showed at D23 shows us almost nothing about the the plot (just Anna and Elsa skating), it's not all.

Who knows, maybe we will see the Duke of Weselton again? Or the Trolls are in fact hiding something, but maybe not what people has theorized for years?

[littlewhispersofsolitude]

OTP Prompts: Children (Part 2)

[Part 1]

When B is feeling stressed or worn out, A always their child out for a couple of hours to let their partner rest, spoiling them with ice cream and park visits, and vice versa.

Once a week, their child gets to pick what they have for dinner. It can be take-out, a home cooked meal, food from the freezer - whatever they want, and they always pick the same meal.

Your OTP taking their child camping for the first time. They get to do all their favourite activities, like swimming in the ocean and cooking marshmallows over the fire. Perhaps they even get to invite one of their friends from school and their parents to come with them.

B comforts their child after a nightmare. Perhaps they sit up late and watch their favourite show, or B makes them a warm cup of milk to help calm them down again. Maybe they sleep with them in their bed for the rest of the night, or invite them to sleep in bed with A as well. Whatever it takes to put the kid's mind at ease again.

Your OTP take their child to buy clothing for their first day of school. They're excitedly running around the store greeting everyone they see and telling them all about why they're here, with A and B hurrying after them.

Their child has always wanted to go to Disney Land, so your OTP takes them for their birthday and they get to do everything they've ever wanted, including riding a plane for the first time if they're from overseas.

They excitedly celebrate their child losing their first tooth, as well as taking them to the store to spend the money they received from the tooth fairy. They end up spending more than they got, but their parents are more than happy to pay for the rest.

B teaching their child to read. Sitting on the couch with them on their lap, slowly flicking through each page as the kid sounds each word out as best they can. Maybe A is watching from the kitchen/other side of the room, smiling at how wonderful their little family is.

Your OTP cooking with their child, letting them crack the eggs or mix the mixture together. After, they may get to lick the spoon, and they all eat the yummy food together on the couch with a movie playing and a blanket on them all.

Consider supporting me on Ko-Fi?

[essycogany]

Why I Ship Sonic The Hedgehog and Amy Rose?

Hi! I’ve been a Sonic fan since 2022 and wanted to give insight on a beloved pairing from someone who’s only FRESH in this fandom. So I could give a somewhat recent perspective on something others might’ve grown up with.

Disclaimer: This is just my merriment of cartoon madness. Done for fun. It has my everywhere all at once speculations, and opinions. Spat into one big MESS. No problem if you disagree. I wish you all the best in whatever you create with your preferred take on these characters.

I take 0 credit for anything displayed in visuals.

Now, let’s get started!

Reason 1: What Got Me Into Sonamy

I want to recommend people who not only helped me understand the dynamic better, but did so while giving good insight on Amy’s character. Which is one of the most inconsistent in the ENTIRE franchise. Here they are! In no particular order.

Why Amy is a “Strong Female Character” [Sonic The Hedgehog Video Essay]

Channel: Taro Marshmallow on YouTube.

She helped me understand Amy’s character as a whole. I believe it’s important for people to comprehend Amy’s character in order for them to understand or like Sonamy. No one has to, but it sure was eye-opening for me. So, do of it what you will. I advise people to give it a watch for the AMAZING character analysis alone.

Molinaskies: On Tumblr, this person goes into serious analysis on Sonic’s emotional characterization, and Sonamy too. Words can’t describe how much I appreciate this ship the more I read about their dynamic from someone I can tell has fun doing it.

Sherrydoodlez: This person is the reason I became a Sonic and Sonamy fan at the same time. Once I saw her videos, I was HOOKED. She makes cute, fun, and outstanding Sonamy content on her YouTube channel. It’s mostly Boom!Sonamy animations with voice actors on some occasions. She makes other random Sonic animations as well. It’s a feel good channel you can watch to calm yourself as you head into a romantic cafe of servings you never knew you needed. Give her content a watch. It’s a jolly ride.

IDW (Specifically Issue #2 Page 21): I believe this is the statement which changed Sonic’s view about Amy. At the beginning, the blue blur was still on the run when Amy came around. But after fighting robots together and helping the villagers, Sonic admitted having fun. It could mean he grew more comfortable. Or just loves to fight robots regardless of who’s joining him.

Afterwards, Amy realized their negotiation about Sonic coming back to the resistance was a loss. She happily accepted it and accepted Sonic for who he is. Which made the feelings mutual on Sonic’s part in my opinion. He was even bashful while offering her to join him. Showing he didn’t mind having Amy around a bit longer. I know someone else stated this better, but I hope you get the point.

Sonamy is also the one ship that gets the most hints and jokes. From official writers, voice actors, (ESPECIALLY in Japan. Sonic and Amy’s VAs literally sung a love song IN CHARACTER for crying out loud.) X, Boom, Prime, artist, some of the games, and Sega themselves with their marketing.

Fact check me if I’m wrong, but I’m pretty sure in Japan, Amy’s been called Sonic’s “Girlfriend,” plenty of times and some even theorize they're already together in the Japanese version of Sonic Frontiers.

(Which I’m positive is very intentional)

Can’t forget the creator of the characters Naoto Oshima stated on twitter, “Sonic has the eternal heart of a boy, but were he to one day mature, he’d choose Amy.” I believe if any ship in this franchise at least makes the most since, it’s Sonamy. I’m only scratching the surface, but we’d be here forever if I continued.

Reason 2: The Dynamic

I believe Sonamy works romantically and platonically. Sonic and Amy are best friends so their bond is already close in that regard. I think in times of peace they hang out. Which has been shown in IDW in the retail incentive covers of issue 1, 5th Anniversary.

The reason I think Amy’s the best choice for Sonic is because she can always keep up with him. She understands him and reads him like a book.

(Sonic doesn’t express himself very well, so that’d be a huge benefit.)

She brings an array of emotion out of him, and accepts him for who he is.

Amy wouldn’t slow him down because they’re relationship wouldn’t change at all. She’s always just as down for going out and exploring as he is. Being a hot-head, she’s not adverse for a bit of head busting with her hammer. Amy allows Sonic for a chance at a relationship he couldn’t get inattentive or tired in.

They’d go on their usual adventurers and might only tell a few friends about their relationship.

(Or keep it a secret)

After that, they’d travel together or Amy would leave Sonic to whatever he needed to do. In Sonic’s case, he would appreciate Amy’s understanding and return the favor by giving her flowers. Maybe even show minimal affection.

Like in Sonic X when he gives Amy a rose in episode 52. X also had moments where Sonic constantly protects/holds onto her. Not to mention willingly laid on a pile of hey next to Amy. And kept the bracelet she made him in episode 9.

Sonic X isn’t canon, but IDW has moments of Sonic hanging out or fighting alongside Amy too. Point is, the couple would be an updated version of their friendship. A “POWER COUPLE,” to be specific.

Romance doesn’t always mean you have to be lovey-dovey. You can treat your partner like a best friend as well. Sonic and Amy have a unique relationship because they’re subtle about it.

Reason 3: Why?

I believe it’s important to get this out of the way since these are my weird BIGGIES when it comes to shipping. Why Sonic might have a crush on Amy and why Amy loves Sonic?

Sonic’s (Alleged) Reasons: Amy doesn’t want to change him. She can keep up with him. She’s super compassionate and energetic.

(Sonic stated she was “sweet’ before.)

He respects and might even values her ways of thinking. In TMOSTH, he said:

In Prime he admits she’s, “Pretty great.”

And, he said in IDW Issue #58:

These can be seen as platonic compliments, but it’s the “Accepting Sonic for who he is” thing that homes in the mutual romantic feelings head-canon.

I’d even argue ever since Unleashed/Black Night he had a little crush on her, but felt unsure of it. That is, until IDW. He might still have no clue what to do next.

Sonic lines in Frontiers : “Amy, I should’ve made up my mind sooner.” and “Wish we were sharing an umbrella, Amy.” are huge examples of that and his reciprocated feelings.

Fun Fact: Sharing an umbrella as a couple in Japan is considered a romantic expression, and teens often draw an umbrella with their name and the name of their crush, the way one would in a heart. A very old tradition.

Sharing an umbrella has been seen as a romantic thing in a few American movies as well.

Here’s another detail I find hilarious. I LOVE in instances like Amy being, “The Lady Of The Lake” in Black Night. The time she ran away from Sonic in Unleashed, and became split versions of herself in Prime. The blue buffoon acts as if he grew more fond and I’d even suggest “attracted” to her. He either flirts with her or gets disappointed. To me, it’s a check on the, “Bringing a wide range of emotion out of him,” point.

In issue #2 of IDW it’s similar. Sonic asked Amy to join him. Then she admits being away from the resistance for too long. I’d say it’s a weirdly consistent thing. The times Sonic acts ready to “open up,” he and Amy end up having to save the world and go off to do their own thing.

(That panel in The Metal Virus with Sonic reaching to Amy while she’s freaking out, still hurts.)

Is this a sign they may need to take their time? Fortunately, we have additional content with them interacting outside those situations. I guess the hedgies are allowing each other to be their own person before committing to anything.

Like a “when they know, they’ll know,” situation.

Last thing. Sonic hugs Amy in both IDW and Frontiers. Never happened in official canon before, so his feelings must’ve changed into something.

Amy’s Reasons: He’s her inspiration and motive for loving adventures. Sonic gives Amy an excuse to show off her skills. And she admires his personality.

By the way, can we just appreciate how Amy loves Sonic for the right reasons? Not looks, popularity, or fortune. He always and forever will be her number one.

Reason 4: Conclusion

This isn’t everything, but I’m sure new content will give me new reasons to love this pair. I just wanted to take MOST of what’s already established and use it for a basic understanding.

As basic as overwhelmingly extra can be.

I don’t know whether or not Sonamy will be canon and that’s fine. To me, it’s semi cannon already and there’s a bunch of talented people who create Sonamy stories.

In actual media, their relationships grows stronger and stronger. Which I’ll dub, “Untouched reciprocation,” which is common in videos game ships.

I see Amy and Sonic as best friends with crushes on each other and find that very fascinating. The hedgehogs can just be.

Though on twitter in February 2023, someone asked about Sonic and Amy’s relationship. Then Mario Kishimoto (The director of Sonic Frontiers ) answered, “Sonic is single. But what about a lover? What about Amy? I’m also looking forward to seeing what kind of love Sonic will have in the future.”

Doesn’t prove much, but it could mean Sonic Team is interested in developing this relationship more. Whatever that indicates, I’m intrigued.

All in all this is why I love Sonamy. Hope you enjoyed my over analyzed essay

Stay Creative! 💙💖

[tdfactseveryday]

( 2 / 2 ) Today’s two fun facts come from the offical Total Drama page for Gwen!

Did you know Gwen is the daughter of a single mother? She also wanted to win the money to make everything easier for her mom & brother!

Gwen cares a lot about her mom & brother, and have a lot of fun with them. So when she auditioned for Total Drama ( as a joke ) for her brother, she didn’t want to be picked. But when she was, she decided to actually try!

“ In fact, she wishes she never auditioned for Total Drama Island in the first place. She did it on a dare (to humour her brother) because she never thought they'd pick her. But now that she's been cast she figures she might as well make the most of it. Her plan is to play this thing out to the end just to prove what morons they really are. ”

“ Besides, if she wins the $100,000 it would sure make life easier for her Mom. Gwen may seem tough as nails on the outside, but when it comes to her family, she's as soft as... well, a marshmallow! ”

So sweet! What do you think about Gwen?

[moonlight404-translates]

A3! Chigasaki Itaru | R - A Dim Light Destination | Translation

Quote: "Video games let you reset and try again until you do it well, but making decorations like this requires a natural skill."

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

The Goldfish Vtalent Mystery / 1

Itaru: … Tsumugi: Thank you for helping me water the plants, Citron-kun.  Citron: It was nothing! Tsumugi: Ah, Itaru-kun.  Citron: What are you looking at, Itaru?  Itaru: It’s the pamphlet for the Goldfish Festival I got a while ago. Citron: From the festival where you’re going to perform?!  Tsumugi: Oh, yeah, Hisoka is performing there too. He will get a marshmallow assortment for that…  Itaru: That’s right. I heard there’s a marshmallow stand, so I’m checking what else will be there.  Citron: Since it’s a festival, there must be a soothing salary and a goldfish scooping stand!  Tsumugi: Ahm, do you mean shooting gallery?  Itaru: A soothing salary is the comfort of company slaves.  Tsumugi: Ahaha…  Tsumugi: There has to be goldfish scooping at a Goldfish Festival, but does it have other exclusive stands?  Itaru: Something unique besides the marshmallow stand… Itaru: …Fufu.  Tsumugi: Itaru-kun?  Citron: What is it?  Itaru: Sorry. I remembered something. I found this page about a workshop to make goldfish lanterns.  Tsumugi: Heh, you can make cute lanterns like that. It’s the perfect event for the Goldfish Festival.  Citron: So this reminded you of something funny? Itaru: Yeah. There’s this goldfish vtalent I’ve been into. Their name is Goldfie. Citron: WHAT! I know Goldfie too!  Itaru: You’ve watched them, Citron?  Tsumugi: Vtalents are famous people on video platforms, right?  Citron: Yes, yes! Vtalents chat and play games on streaming using a virtual avatar!  Itaru: Goldfie’s virtual avatar is a goldfish. Their mouth is always moving—.  Itaru: It goes the same when they pause or chat seriously until they banter like a straight man.  Itaru: Just like the lanterns on the pamphlet, their gaze doesn’t change no matter where they are looking, which is strangely charming.  Citron: Goldfie is popular not only for that!  Citron: The fins and scales even their details are beautifully modeled. The enigmatic delicacy is attractive to the viewers!  Itaru: Absolutely.  Citron: By the way, they say fy~ at the end of their lines. I heard many people are into the contrast with realistic avatars.  Tsumugi: Heh, a talking goldfish sounds interesting. But why a goldfish?  Citron: I don’t know… but I can sense an intense fixation for goldfishes from them.  Itaru: That’s a bit uncommon. However, they haven’t revealed the reason, so it’s a complete mystery why a goldfish.  Tsumugi: I see. Vtalents have a deep nature.  Citron: I’m doing it. I’ll go to that stand, Itaru.  Itaru: Eh? The goldfish lantern workshop?  Citron: That one! All this talk made me want to make a goldfish lantern that lives up to Goldfie!  Tsumugi: A goldfish lantern made by Citron sounds exciting. I’d like to see it when you finish it.  Citron: Of course!  Itaru: Why do I feel this will be the birth of a Goldfie Jr…

Itaru: (All good with the rehearsal. There’s time before the night performance, maybe I should check the stands.) 

Citron: Found ya!  Itaru: Woah, Citron.  Itaru: If you’re here, I can assume that you came to make the lantern.  Citron: That’s right! I’m so ready! So let’s go! Itaru: Eh? Me too?  Citron: Yep! You don’t have anything better to do after all!  Itaru: That’s rude. That’s just because we had the rehearsal early in the morning.  Citron: This means you’re free until the performance! Over there, Itaru!  Itaru: Wait, don’t pull me! 

The Goldfish Vtalent Mystery / 2

Citron: We’ve arrived! My turn!  Itaru: Hey, this is not a duel.  Owner-manager: Hm? Do you guys want to make goldfish lanterns?  Citron: Yes, we do!  Owner-manager: Very well. The full course is sold out, so we’re not taking more people. However, we still have slots for the basic course.  Citron: The full course is THAT popular?!  Owner-manager: Yeah. After all, it’s the opposite of a normal class. The festival also plays a part in it.  Itaru: Is there a difference between the full course and the basic course development?  Owner-manager: There is. In the basic course, you draw the body pattern, eyes, and mouth in a pre-made goldfish body to complete it…  Owner-manager: But in the full course, you start by making the structure of the goldfish body.  Itaru: I understand. So what do you want to do, Citron?  Citron: I wanted to do it from zero but I’ll take the basic course for now!  Citron: No matter the course, I’ll create a goldfish that lives up to that vtalent!  Itaru: Where did you get that enthusiasm…?  Itaru: Whatever. Then, two basic courses, please?  Owner-manager: On it! 

Owner-manager: First, start drawing the fin pattern and its scales.  Owner-manager: After that, the eyes. You can use these stickers here, and later draw more things on it.  Itaru: What do you mean by drawing more things on it?  Owner-manager: You can add eyelashes or make the iris bigger. Some kinds have compound eyes. It’s up to you how to make them.  Citron: We’ll do our best!  Itaru: Then I want to do it like one of the sample lanterns.  Citron: … Itaru: (The scales should be like this. Citron’s ones…) Citron: Starting with the waves… and spirals here!  Itaru: Eh, that pattern is completely different from the ones in a goldfish. Are you sure?  Citron: Yes, it’s all fine! I’m picturing a goldfish having fun swimming underwater!  Itaru: And this arrow is for?  Citron: That’s its speedup command! Next to it is the jump sign!  Itaru: So it’s a goldfish filled with Citron’s ideals.  Participant A: The tail fin compared to the pectoral fin is…  Itaru: Hm?  Itaru: (The full course group is at the next table if I’m not wrong.)  Itaru: (But that person… their goldfish body has the same quality as the sample one while the ones from the others are distorted.)  Participant A: I’ll add a bamboo strip here…  Itaru: (No way. Is he changing the body sample?  That’s insane…) Participant A: From the back to the abdomen… I’ll use this gradient…   Citron: That’s not an ordinary person…!  Itaru: I know, right? The eyes are amazing, and the fins and scales are thinner and more delicate than the sample.  Itaru: There was another enthusiastic person besides Citron, huh?   Citron: I’m not gonna lose! I’ll show them how serious the basic course is! Next, draw the eyes and mouth!  Itaru: …More than a goldfish, it looks like those good with a goldfish style.  Itaru: (Let’s finish the eyes and mouth too.) 

Citron: —And it’s done!  Owner-manager: Your lantern looks neat, guy. I’m sure there’s no other like that in the world.  Citron: My work is the owner’s favorite!  Itaru: That’s not what he meant, you know?   Owner-manager: Your lantern looks good too. I’d even like to place it with the sample ones.  Itaru: Thank you.  Citron: I can’t wait to show it to Tsumugi!  Itaru: Yeah.  Itaru: (Even if it wasn’t the full course, Citron seemed to have fun. Well, I think I also had fun with it.)  Participant B: Amazing…  Citron: It’s not that great, but thanks!  Itaru: They are not talking about us, but the one next to us.  Participant C: Mine didn’t come out like that. You’ve totally beat me…  Participant A: … Itaru: It’s at the same level as a real goldfish. The fins and scales are prettier than the real ones, aren’t they?  Citron: So true. It can even compete with my goldfish lantern…  Itaru: And you keep on that.  Participant A: Uh-huh. Very good fy~  Itaru and Citron: ?!  Participant A: …Oops, I said the phrase.  Participant A: Hah, I like goldfishes SO much! I’ll hang it in my collection room.  Citron: Itaru, there’s no way it’s not them…  Itaru: Who would have thought they would appear here…  Citron: Now I know this is a small world.  Itaru: For real. I have to be careful not to get caught. Itaru: (At the end, they simply loved goldfishes.)

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

Notes: Citron says 社畜 (company slave), instead of 射的 (shooting gallery) to which Itaru replies something like “Not the company slaves mention…”

When Itaru says Goldfie Jr, he means that Citron’s lantern might have a similar style to Citron Jr (a doll made by Citron).

The owner-manager refers to Itaru and Citron by お兄ちゃん (onii-chan). 

Goldfie uses 僕. So there’s a good chance they’re a guy.

[shattered-reflections-au]

Fluffvember 2. Blanket Fort / “Come back to bed”

--- --- --- Exam season. Vio's least favourite season of the year. Not even the April pollen-pocalypse was worse than exam season. because this time drinking Dayquil like it was water couldn't save him. Vio was hunched over his desk, having re-read his same sentence four times by now, none of the words making sense anymore.

Two more hours, Vio only had to study for two more hours. Shadow, however, did not agree with Vio's plans. Shadow groaned, shifting himself in the bed for the eighth time, his phone nearly falling on his face as he glared impatiently at Vio.

"Viooooooooo" Shadow called, hanging his head upside down over the edge of the bed.

"not now, I'm studying." Vio said for the fifteenth time in a row. it sounded robotic at this point. "Vio i'm booooredddd-" Shadow grumbled, sliding himself off the bed and onto the floor.

Vio didn't respond, only flipping the page of his textbook and scribbling down another note. Shadow grumbled again, sitting crosslegged on the floor staring at the clock. 10pm. Vio had been studying for eight hours now. Skipping dinner and any offer of snacks saying he needed to "focus."

Shadow glared at the back of his beloved. Vio didn't even look at him as Shadow marched out of the room. Over the next 20 minutes, Vio struggled not to be distracted as Shadow came in and back out of Vio's room, dragging blankets, pillows, and anything else soft. But what actually what distracted Vio from his studying was when Shadow stopped making the trips to Vio's room. Vio glanced at the clock. He was one hour off of the end of his ten-hour-study-a-thon. Vio looked back at his books, the words on the page not even looking like a recognisable language anymore to him. Vio sighed and shut his textbook. Vio could take a small break to make sure Shadow hadn't broke anything and that Red hadn't set anything on fire yet as he smelled something smokey coming from the kitchen.

Vio made his way downstairs, exhaustion hitting him as he stumbled off the staircase. "Shadow?" Vio called, looking around the empty house. Vio wandered around the house, finding himself in the living room staring at amalgamation of most of his and Shadow's soft things piled in a heap.

Curiosity overtaking him, Vio explored the heap of blankets, finding a cozy interior, with soft fairy lights and some slightly burnt smores. He also found Shadow, curled up around a pillow, with his laptop set up on one of the chairs that held up the blankets.

Shadow looked up to Vio, eyes shining like rich rubies. "you done torturing yourself?" Shadow asked, patting the spot beside himself.

Vio smiled. "i guess i can take a break." Shadow's expression shifted. "i will tie you down, Violet, Hylia help me."

Vio chuckled, "alright, alright," Shadow welcomed his sleepy boyfriend with open arms, wrapping him in a soft blanket and watching the soft grey turn a sweet lilac colour. Shadow pushed the plate of (quite possibly burned) s'mores towards Vio. "eat." he instructed. Vio took one of the treats, examining how the marshmallow was more black than toasty brown. "i thought you could make these in like the microwave or something..." Vio trailed off. Shadow shrugged. "Red brought home the food-safe blowtorch for making crème brûlée tonight." Vio snorted. "Red used fire and didn't burn the house down?" Shadow shifted in his seat. "there may have been some mild charring of the paper towels..." he mentioned. "by the way we now need another roll, the others got... wet..." Vio shook his head, trying not to choke on the molten mallow inside of his s'more. ---

Blue grumbled, leaning against the doorway of his bedroom, squinting at the light from Red's phone flashlight. He shivered in the cold the hallway, tugging the blanket he pulled off the bed around his bare shoulders.

"Red? It's 3am, come back to bed. What the hell are you doing?" he begged, watching his boyfriend creep down the stairs.

"it's really late and Vio hasn't said goodnight yet, i wanna make sure he's okay-" Red whisper-shouted. The kitchen light was still on from when Red helped Shadow burn make s'mores. That wasn't a good sign. Vio was pedantic about not wasting power. Though, as Red crept deeper into the house, soft snores filled the air. Red traced them to the living room. In the middle of the room stood a blanket fort, inside he found Shadow and Vio, dead asleep. Red smiled. "g'night Vi-Vi," he yawned, also whispering a goodnight to Shadow before re-joining his boyfriend in bed, Blue falling back into a deep sleep the second his head hit the pillow.

[squibeearts]

31 Things I Love About Good Omens

Day 2:

(AAAA a day late again, i need to plan these better)

Next on the list, of course had to be......

💞Michael Sheen💞:]

The Sweet Prince of Wales, Mr. Michael himself. If David was the lure, Michael was the hook! Ever since he first appeared on screen, I quite literally could not keep my eyes off him. Not only did his looks intrigue me, but his voice... I mean, he can do prim and prober very well, but let him speak an octave lower and its like butter to my ears. (Sorry, didn't mean to be that graphic :p).

I feel embarrassed to say that me, like many American fans, have rarely ever heard of Michael before Good Omens. So being able to discover more about him and his different roles has been such a joy! (this man has got some serious range!) In all honesty, Michael deserves so much more credit than what he is given. He has such a creative mind and giving heart. He has so much spirit in him, and so much shines though when he's acting.

He's such an amazing and devoted father, and it shows how much he loves and cares for his family and friends, and for his community! Michael always finds a way to reach out to those in need, and give back to the people who need it most.

Thank you Michael, for the love and compaction you share, and thank you for being such a lovely human being!

~~~~~~

Fangirl time? Fangirl time.

What is there not to fan girl about? He's kind, generous, handsome, drop dead gorgeous, masculine, feminine, built like a muscly marshmallow, his beard, his hair 😩, his stunning smile, his hands, his nose, I could literally go on and on. I mean, the man is an absolute ray of sunshine!

As an artist, he is such and inspiring subject to draw, and so pleasing to look at. Honesty, how did Good Omens manage the get the most angelic looking man on Earth to play the most angelic angel in the show?

Gosh I love him so much. Could write pages upon pages about him, but I'm trying to keep these brief.

What an adorable man!

One of the things I love about Good Omens is, Michael Sheen

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

*psssst! feel free to add on anything you love about Michael and/or how he keeps you in the good omens fandom! don't forget to use hashtags #goodomens, #31DOGO and #31DaysOfGoodOmens!

[sims4t2bb]

update: part 2

Continuing the update with the rest of EPs and Game Packs!

— Expansion Packs

Cottage Living

Cottagecore default replacement conversion by @morepopcorn has been added.

Wisteria Specimen - Horizontal A, A++, B, C, and Vertical, and debug Dark-Eyed Daisy, English Oak, Fern, Fern Group, Field Maple, Foxglove, Holly, Lavender Bush, Scots Pine, Wayfairing Tree, Wild Rose Bush, Ivy Walls, and Wisteria Walls conversions by @tvickiesims have been added.

Eighth Wonder Curtains conversion by @platinumaspiration has been added.

High School Years

Chiffon Shades, Crafted Covering, Dazzling Designer Drapery, Even More Ruffles and Wings, Lovely Layered Curtains, Ruffles and Wings, Sheer Beauty, Studious Shades, Tall Lovely Layered Curtains, and Woven Wonder Drapes conversions by @platinumaspiration have been added.

Growing Together

Debug Eucalyptus Tree, Sidewalk Tree, and Topiary Bird conversions by @tvickiesims have been added.

Cousin Vik's Gifted Curtain and Pompous Poms Curtain (Left, Right) conversions by @platinumaspiration have been added.

Horse Ranch

Venue Wall Speaker: Ranch default replacement conversion by @morepopcorn has been added.

Debug Dead Mexican Ebony Tree, Dead Oak Tree, and Grapevine conversions by @tvickiesims have been added.

Range Rustic Cabinet, Range Rustic Counter, and Range Rustic Island conversions by @megamassikalove have been added.

For Rent

Debug Jasmine Shrub conversion by @tvickiesims has been added.

Debug Industrial Cluster Mailbox and Rural Cluster Mailbox conversions by @landgraabbed have been added.

The 'How Many Times Do We Need To Tell You It's Not Silk' Taller Wall Curtain, The 'Save Us From The Ruin' Tallest Cinched Wall Curtain, The 'So You Know The Truth' Taller Cinched Wall Curtain, and The 'We Are Going To Jail' Tallest Wall Curtain conversions by @platinumaspiration have been added.

Lovestruck

Colored Folding Chair, Gothic Ring Leather Seat, Artisanal Harmony Living Chair, Shell-Fish Style Seater, Gothic Leather Sectional Couch, Symphony of Marshmallows Seat, Gothic Tassel Leather Seat, Symphony of Elegance Ottoman, Artisanal Harmony Wooden Table, Gloss Finish Nightstand, and more conversions by Ladysimplayer8 have been added.

Debug Axolotl conversion by @jacky93sims has been added.

Life and Death

The filterable page is now available!

A link to the filterable page in the pinned post has been added.

— Game Packs

Spa Day

See It, See Them - Glass Tiered Shelf conversion by @jacky93sims has been added.

Vampires

Iron Victorian Fence, Triple Wrought Heavy Duty Gate, Dry Rose Bush, Painted Fern, and debug Vampire Shrub conversions by @tvickiesims have been added.

Parenthood

Brohill Single Bed with Storage, Metal Framed Single Bed, Let the Sun Shine Window Sheers and Stain Resistant Window Valance conversions by @platinumaspiration have been added.

Jungle Adventure

Venue Wall Speaker: Latin and Venue Wall Speaker: Latin Pop default replacement conversions by @morepopcorn have been added.

Brazilwood, Ficus, Ivy Palm, Tree Fern, Bromeliad Plant, Canna Plant, Swiss Cheese Plant, Grass Clump, and Maidenhair Fern conversions by @tvickiesims have been added.

Strangerville

Debug Cactus Group, Desert Bush, Joshua Tree, Long Flowered Cactus, Round Cactus Shrub, Round Flowered Cactus, and Tall Flowered Cactus conversions by @tvickiesims have been added.

Realm of Magic

Otherworldly Curtains, Sprightly Curtains, and Titania's Curtains conversions by @platinumaspiration have been added.

Dream Home Decorator

Friendly Little Curtains, Slightly Friendlier Little Curtains, and Super Friendly Little Curtains conversions by @platinumaspiration have been added.

My Wedding Stories

Debug Twisted Tree conversion by @tvickiesims has been added.

Effortless Cinched Curtain, Effortless Straight Curtain, Slightly Longer - Still Effortless Cinched Curtain, and Slightly Longer - Still Effortless Straight Curtain conversions by @platinumaspiration have been added.

Werewolves

Debug Black Spruce, Devil's Club, and Larch conversions by @tvickiesims have been added.

Left Tarp and Right Tarp conversions by @platinumaspiration have been added.

[roninkairi]

Hey, Remember Those DC x Looney Tunes Comics From A Few Years Ago? (Part 1)

I have seen quite a few vids and posts on Twitter about certain memorable issues. But there is one that has been my personal favorite:

A special issue that focused on Harley Quinn meeting one of the most unusual of Looney Tunes antagonists, Gossamer.

The comic is split into 2 different art styles and the first half is done in the more "traditional" art style (And yes, Harley just broke the 4th Wall there. Don't be surprised.)

A hurricane sweeps through NYC and after everything settles down, Harley finds a curious crate on the shores of Coney Island. Whats inside?

Gossamer.

Apparently monsters in crates are a normal thing in the DC Universe.

I think there are a hell of a lot of guys (and girls) who wants to trade places with Gossamer right now...

To answer your question that is NOT the Iron Giant.

Hey, could have been worse. It could have been some giant marshmallow sailor!

And now its time for Harls to do a little detective work on her own.

...

Me: ...

Harley: I'm just saying.

Me: That is one of MANY images I want to erase from my memory, I must state for the record.

Harley: But the last panel is completely ok.

Me: ...do you really think I'm gonna be against that?

Velma: (saves a copy of that page) I don't think none of us object to that.

Batman always knows just what buttons to press.

So does Joker, quite literally.

Is it wrong that ALL of them have given chuckle inducing dialogue here?

Even Batman?

Me: You ALL have issues.

Harley: We are aware, there are entire YouTube videos detailing our many, MANY personal hang ups. ESPECIALLY HIM.

Batman: I'm not apologizing.

...yeah what IS that guy's name anyway?

Well, all's well that ends well, I guess...(lets not ask about the sheep dog and his wife.)

But of course there is still one unanswered question...

..and the answer is one that has been missing from all of these DC x Looney Tunes comics.

At least we know now what Bugs has been doing while Daffy had to deal with Lex!

(And you do realize, of course, this means that Harley's met Bugs WAY before Multiversus.)