#my head for a few months and i really want to see that come to life

[theliliesofthevalleies]

The skeletons wordlessly point around the room as if the reasoning should be obvious. Obviously he had been put in the summoning circle.

Danny puts a hand over his mouth and closes his eyes in contemplation for a moment. He takes in a long deep breath and looks at the skeletons. “And.. no one thought to.. I don’t know.. alert me to the fact that there is a whole living person in the offerings room..?”

All the skeleton’s just shrug and go back to pampering the now stunned and speechless Robin who is staring up at Danny from where he’s seated on the floor. “You’re a lot younger than I thought you’d be. Honestly that’s a relief. I was worried I was being offered as a bride to the ghost king that was going to be like.. old and gross..”

“You were offered as what?! You’re fourteen?!” Danny stares at the teenager no older than himself and crouches down. “What do you mean as a bride for me? Why would they even assume I wanted a child bride…?”

Robin, now removing his mask because, fuck it why not if he’s stuck there might as well, shrugs as he looks back up at Danny now showing him that he is in fact Tim Drake. “Don’t know.. don’t really care. I would however like to get home. My.. adopted father and his other adopted adult child are probably looking for me and considering that the last time a Robin went missing he was murdered.. they are probably losing their minds..”

“Right right.. uh.. well.. I have to ask Clockwork about how to send you back.. because the Infinite Realms sort of identifies you as.. my property now.. and the fact that you are technically dead..” Danny looks like he’s ready to hurl from the thought but he straightens up.

Tim looks up at him with wide eyes and blinks a few times. “I’m dead..?” He pat his own chest and looked at himself all over.

“Only technically.. you were given as an offering.. the only way to send a living being to the Infinite Realms is to kill them.. or half kill them.” Danny thinks for a moment. “Honestly when we get you back. You may only have a half life.. you may be a Halfa now..” He shrugs and starts leaving the room. “Come on. I’m not going to force you to stay locked in here. Though.. m aybe put your mask back on. Some of the residents of the Infinite Realms still like to keep your identities a secret for themselves..”

Tim stands and places his mask back on his face trying ti ignore the reeling in his head from finding out he had apparently died. “So. You already knew who I was..?”

Danny with a dejected look and tears welling up in his eyes. “No.. I was one of the residents that enjoyed keeping your identity a secret. But it’s okay.. you just proved my theory so…”

Tim nods. “Right.. sorry about that..”

They make their way to Clockwork and find out it will take a while to send Tim back home. In the meantime Danny and Tim spend a lot of time together getting to know each other. Danny brings Tim a change of clothes when he comes back from school one day.

By the time they manage to navigate the stupid rules of the Infinite Realms two months later Tim is on the verge of his fifteenth birthday and has realized feelings are starting to bloom in his chest when he sees Danny. They agree to stay in contact and when Tim is dropped off on the day of his fifteenth birthday he leans over and kisses Danny’s cheek before running off to find Bruce and Dick who, as he predicted had in fact lost their minds.

It takes a lot of explaining to get them to calm down and understand that he A.) didn’t run away and get murdered. B.) didn’t die at all. Which Tim knows is a lie but he doesn’t want Bruce and Dick to freak out about him dying. And C.) is very much alive despite the blood loss of cult members trying to sacrifice him to what is essentially a god.

(Idk if op wanted this to turn into ship but I’ve been reading a lot of DannyxTim fics lately and that’s where my brain went. Lol.)

Bonus. When Jason comes back as Red Hood Tim can tell because Jason has a similar aura to Danny. Danny comes to visit and when he sees Jason he tells Tim that Jason has corrupted ectoplasm and he’s not sure how but his core is shattered. Danny and Tim set out to help Jason and they manage to clean his ectoplasm before Jason can bring his who reveal and revenge plan to fruition.

Once his ectoplasm is clean and Danny got his core into mostly one piece Jason all but loses interest in his big dramatic revenge plot so Tim brings him to the manor one day and Bruce freaks out.

Danny and Tim explain to Bruce what was up and that now that his ectoplasm is clean and his core is mostly whole now would be the best time to talk to Jason about all the things Jason is angry about.

(Side note I really like the idea that Danny helps Jason right after the first time he meets him and it freaks Jason out because, why the hell is the replacement and his boyfriend randomly finding him and why is the replacement’s boyfriend shoving his hands in his chest. It sort of freaks him out. But it helps the Pit rage so he honestly lets it happen.)

DPxDC Prompt #17

There is a room Danny's Keep he set up shortly after defeating Pariah Dark. It became necessary when the broader magical community realized Pariah had be defeated and therefore a new King took his throne. Danny found himself briefly bombarded with waves of attempted summonings.

Which, the summonings themselves, wouldn't have been so bad. Turns out people can't just drag the King of Ghosts to themselves on a whim. Danny has to actively accept a summoning to get pulled to it. And if he just decides "No," the pull and whispers go away. No problem there.

No, the problem is the offerings. And sacrifices. The things that people put in the circle as payment for even attempting to summon him. Like having to put a quarter in the payphone just to listen to it ring and ring and ring as the person on the other end of the call doesn't pick up. Since the summoning magic regarded these things as belonging to Danny even if he rejected the summons, they usually ended up just materializing in front of him if he didn't go to them.

Which, okay. It was funny that time he got to end a fight with Vlad very fast when a whole gold bar materialized and dropped on his head. And the food was nice sometimes when it was late and everywhere was closed and his parents had left samples in the fridge to contaminate everything into animation again. But the goat head dropping from the ceiling onto his desk during on of Lancer's English tests was not appreciated. Even if it did get the test rescheduled and the whole school shut down for a few days to investigate the "potentially satanic activity."

So, yeah, it was a bit of a problem. Fortunately, it was a problem with a relatively simple solution. Danny set up an inbox. With a bit of help from Tucker and Pandora, and a couple tips from Clockwork; all summoning offerings and sacrifices would now go straight to the dedicated room in the Keep.

And! As a special touch, the summoners would also get a chipper, automated voice saying, "The Ghost King you are trying to summon has more important things to do than answer you right now. Please leave a message in the circle with your name, date, location, contact information, and reason for summoning. The Ghost King will get back to you at his earliest convenience." Sam's stupid fancy girl gala voice had been perfect for that little message.

It was the perfect solution. Danny no longer had to deal with randomly materializing offerings putting his secret identity at risk. Pariah's skeletons, who had been antsy for something to do now that they were no longer bent under the thumb of a cruel tyrant, were instructed to take care of all the offerings; making sure everything was always cleaned up and put away. And all Danny had to do was stop by periodically to check in and "Officially respond" -ie, write a fuck off note- to the summoning messages (Clockwork's insistence).

A perfect solution. Up until Danny checked in one day to find the skellies pampering a whole ass boy. No. Not just any boy. Danny recognizes that costume.

"Why is Robin here?"

[pythonmoth]

cw: anxiety. post-traumatic stress disorder (torture). reader is traumatized. reader is a bit unreliable. military inaccuracies. hurt/comfort (I guess?).

simon riley x f!reader. implied simon riley x soap. implied simon riley x f!reader x soap.

First | Last | Next

Being home is incredibly boring, especially if you can't move much.

Your brother's been taking care of you, making sure you're eating, that you let your injuries breathe, and soon enough, the cuts on your feet allow you to move around on your own. It takes a whole month for your brother to leave you alone for longer than a few hours. It's a good thing, really, because if you want to spend hours just laying in your bed and crying in silence as you stare at the ceiling, you can. He would only come whenever you needed a ride, anyway.

Despite being able to move around and now even managing to use your sensitive fingers, you dread the idea of going outside. You have to wear sandals and loose pants, because your toes cannot, by any means, be touched by any kind of fabric yet, or else you're grimacing in pain. Feeling defenseless hasn't been a thing ever since you became part of the team. Not even your skills could take down Simon, but you could put up a fight with them all, easily; never won, but you were confident with anyone else on the street.

No doubt you could still beat them up, your skills are still there, but the idea of someone somehow restricting your movements felt like torture all over again. The idea of anyone getting a hold of you makes you want to throw up. Your mind and body betray you, making you remember those awful moments, and you don't realize you're pulling a face.

"You're spacing out".

You look up at the therapist, giving her a little nod as an apology, getting comfortable on the seat. Restless, you can't help but look around for a moment again. The office is incredibly white, clean, filled with mirrors for whatever fucked up reason, and the only thing that isn't grey or white is one of the cushions on the couch on the other side of the room. It's deep purple. It looks awful.

Seemingly realizing you won't be of much help with the question she just asked you, she gives you a smile. "How are your nails? I can see you're using your hands a lot more".

"They're healing" you reply, looking down at your fingers instead of focusing on the cushion. "I can use my hands pretty normally now, but I can't use the stove for long".

"Because of the heat". An affirmation. You've already mention it before, and you're not surprised she remembers that. Probably read it on her notes.

"It hurts, yeah".

"And how are your feet?" she asks, looking down at the way you absentmindedly drag your hands on your pants from your thighs to your calves in slow movements. You only realize what you're doing because you can hear the way her pen drags across the paper, distracting you.

"Well... I can only wear sandals. Doctor said I should be okay to move around with real shoes in three months".

"And what do you think?"

"He's the doctor. I want to believe he knows what he's doing, so I can't really question it. I do hope it heals sooner, though".

The therapist writes down on her notebook. With an uncomfortable feeling, you desperately want to know what she's writing, your eyes drifting to the movement of the pen, but you can't make out a single letter.

"So you trust the doctor, right?" she questions, moving one of her erasers to the other side of her desk. Your eyes are fixed entirely on it, on the little thud the eraser makes when she sets it down.

"He knows best, that's for sure. If he's there, must be a reason" you answer, tilting your head as she keeps moving her things around, making them fit somewhere else on her desk. The pencil goes to the left, then to the right, the eraser from top to bottom of the notebook, as if she's as antsy as you are.

"Do you apply that thought somewhere else? Like... at work? Or if you need help at a store and find an employee, maybe?"

The therapist's eyes are on you all the time, your hands, your anxious feet; your little habits coming to light with a single look. The way you bite the inside of your lower lip, the little double blink you make when she moves something in her desk yet again, even if you don't say anything.

"Of course. If they know their way around, it's only right that I ask for help, and trust that" you answer, frowning. You don't think that question is relevant at all, but she keeps writing, and writing.

"I see. Thank you. Now, you mentioned you've been texting G- Simon. Can you tell me how it makes you feel?"

You go silent for a moment, your fingertips dragging across your arm, so softly you can barely feel it. "It's better now".

During the first three months of being home, Simon would text you nearly every single day. He didn't expect a text back and you knew that, because you told him you wouldn't promise to be responsive. Simon would send you pictures of their plain meals, of Gaz sleeping on your bed, Johnny posing next to Price with their thumbs up, or terrible selfies of himself. Always without a mask.

Tuesday

11:27

"Price scolded Johnny because he had crumbs on his uniform. It was hilarious"

Saturday

03:26

"Just got back. Everyone ok"

Even Johnny would text you from time to time. It was mostly memes, awful stickers or ridiculous, random photos of Gaz mid talking, his face weird, or Price smacking Simon's head, or the entire team posing for a picture, Gaz' arm hovering to the side as if to hug your shoulders. You didn't even need to wonder why Gaz hadn't texted you; that man hated technology with a passion.

Still, you never texted back.

You didn't really pay attention to the texts, or the little voice notes, or the selfies. You didn't feel like reading them properly, always leaving them on seen or just grunting to yourself whenever you heard their distinctive tone. Why you didn't change it in the past few months, you don't know. Maybe that's a question for your therapist.

But then, the texts stop.

Monday

16:49

"Tough job"

"We leave at midnight"

23:42

"Text you when we're back"

Only, Simon doesn't text back. For days. For weeks.

You can't pretend you're not worried. It's impossible, really. You're half-tempted to call him, but you can't, you don't know how it will feel to hear his voice again. He said he'd text you and he hasn't, so he isn't back yet, and you don't want to feel vulnerable by opening up. Yet.

You go through Simon's chat, actually paying attention to whatever he sent you. You realize he sometimes sent you long texts, apologizing, accepting what he did, and even a few voice notes that you didn't notice before. They made your heart race as you listened.

"I hurt you, and I'm sorry. I love you, and you don't have to forgive me"

"Garrick told me to tell you that if you aren't eating he'll go and— shut the hell up, Johnny, I'm talking!"

"Tell her we'll go visit her by the end of the month".

That's Price's voice, you realize.

Feeling incredibly choked up, you check Johnny's chat next. You're expecting to find nothing but memes, as you've seen in passing, but when you see he sent you long, long texts, you finally let yourself cry properly.

He's been apologizing since the day you left, too afraid to face you but his texts are so poorly written you know he was in a rush, or crying, or both. His voice notes, however... they just make you break.

"I'm so sorry. I can't undo what we did. You don't owe me anything, I just... really hope you can at least tolerate me. If not, please know I'll always care for you. I love you. Goodnight".

Something inside of your chest eases, maybe moved to the point of forgiveness, even if just a moment. Your therapist has been helping you unveil whatever you missed during that day— during the torture. It's been a tough process, and she insisted you visited twice a week instead of once, but it helped. You could now understand.

Still, understanding the situation only makes your worry grow.

"Text you when we're back"

For two long weeks, there's nothing, from nobody. Only silence and fear. For the first time since you left, you're scared for them. Scared you'll have to open the door one day and it'll be Price, or maybe not even him, telling you the team is dead.

On the second week, your therapist says you can give them a call, or text them if it's more comfortable. When you say you can't, she advices you to write them letters.

"Tell them whatever you wish to say. If you're angry, write it. If you're worried, write it. There's no good or bad feelings, and it's only right to feel them. Write them for yourself, and then you can choose to give them to your team, or not".

And you did.

A whole notebook of messy writing, some tears staining the paper, and your hate slowly turned to understanding. Real understanding. Not forgiveness, not yet, but it's progress.

By the third week with no news, you just can't handle it anymore. You press call without a second thought and your heart squeezes painfully in your chest when it rings, and rings, and rings.

Hopeless, you lay in your bed, your mind working overtime as you stare at the ceiling.

A muffled dinging sound startles you awake, shifting on the bed to find your phone because that's Simon's tone. Adjusting your vision, you realize it fell from your hands to the ground when you fell asleep. You dive for it, grimacing when your sensitive fingertips brush against the carpet, but to see his name there is enough for you to endure it.

Thursday

01:22

"Safe. Couldn't text you earlier"

01:22

"You called me. Are you hurt?"

01:22

"Safe. Call me"

"Now"

His name pops up not even a moment later, his ringtone filling your ears. When you pick up, he's barely breathing, and you wonder if you're about to be told bad news.

Simon explains they were on a very tough mission, and that that was why he couldn't text you, or communicate with you at all. You could hear him shift, move around. Restless.

They got caught in enemy territory, surviving the best they could for two weeks, Simon tells you. Johnny was shot in the leg and Gaz was the one who helped him out, since Simon was too busy dragging Price, who was bleeding out because someone decided it would be fun to put a bullet through his left shoulder.

"I wasn't any better. Dr. Wilson called me a dick, and then made me lay down because I was shaking. Ridiculous" he grunts, his voice hushed on the other side of the line. "Got shot on my side, I just didn't feel it, but I was better than the other two".

He doesn't seem to expect you to speak, huffing and shuffling. You can tell he's in the clinic room, the echo incredibly familiar by now.

Of course, he doesn't tell you that the reason why he didn't text you the whole past week, is because he's been asleep, drugged out of his mind because of the pain.

"Everyone's okay. No risk. Garrick's the only one who didn't get hurt. I think—"

"I was worried, Simon. I'm glad everyone is okay".

There's silence for a long moment. Simon takes a deep breath from the other side of the phone, sighing deeply. You could hear the smile in his tone. "I wouldn't let myself get killed, luv. I'm sorry I couldn't text you before. We're safe now".

You two spend the rest of the night on the call, with you mostly staying in silence and listening. You can't believe how scared you've been for all of them, for Simon. You know it's gonna be hard to fully forgive them, if at all, but you can't help the way your body relaxes as you hear him breathing against your ear. You can't help the way your arms curl around the pillow, seeking his warmth. As before.

The call goes on for long hours. When your soft hums as he speaks stop coming to his end, Simon goes quiet, realizing you've fallen asleep. He sighs and shifts to look at the ceiling, holding the phone against his ear. Focusing on your soft breathing, he let's himself fall asleep, the gunshot wound completely unimportant if he gets to listen to you sleeping again.

He just wishes you were there.

im so sick y'all, my head hurts, but I obviously couldn't resist! also, you guys like Marina? her new song is so good! mowgli's road's vibes.

the therapist's room I'm describing in the story is actually my therapist's old room. I hated it so BAD. the mirrors were a terrible decision. also, if you can't relate to this type of therapy, that's fine. it's just my experience.

again, styling is fully intentional. can y'all tell how our reader is feeling?~

taglist: @euphoricn @lilg101010 @enfppuff @carolchaotic @silas-fanfic-favs @nina-from-317 @an-ever-angry-bi @kittygonap @dorothy-rainbird-deactivated202 @adventurerabby @defronix @sheepispink @iambuttwodaysold @blackhawkfanatic @malevolentghoul @thriving-n-jiving @literallegendicon @echo9821 @angel-bugz @ssc7514 @clickbait-official @hades--baby @blackhawkfanatic @sirbonesly @saki---chan @skeletonsucker @nnsissys @kukavittu @tessakate @honestlymassivetrash @s-a-v-a-n-a-34

(we're so many now, wow! thank you all ♡)

[teenidlegirl]

⠀✸⠀⠀𝓑𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐘 𝓞𝐅 𝓣𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝓜𝐄𝐒𝐒⠀⠀┈⠀﹙⠀𝓒𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟏⠀﹚⠀ა ︎ ﾞ .

꒰⠀⠀⟡⠀.⠀military!miguel⠀𝓍⠀fem!neighbor!reader⠀.⠀⟡⠀⠀꒱

⠀ ᰦ 󠄀 ྀ .⠀♥︎⠀summary.⠀you’re nine months pregnant and your baby could arrive at any moment. you and miguel are excited until he’s called back for a dangerous mission, left to deal with the hardest decision ever, leaving you and the baby.

⠀ ᰦ 󠄀 ྀ .⠀♥︎⠀content.⠀angst, some fluff, pregnancy, heartbreak, arguments, emotional distress, firearms, mentions of violence, mentions of death, military shenanigans, sorta hurt/comfort

❛⠀ previous chapter⠀⋅⠀masterlist⠀⋅⠀next chapter⠀ ❜

time has passed and you’re 9 months pregnant and your due date is three weeks away. while feeling utterly exhausted, you and miguel are excited for your daughter to come and start your life as a family. everything is prepared when the time comes. hospital bag filled with everything you need, nursery set up looking pretty for your baby girl, the entire apartment is baby-proof which was miguel’s doing. until you find another apartment or a house, which miguel has been house-hunting for months now, your apartment will be your home for your little family. you two couldn’t be more excited for this.

you, especially, are excited to pop out this baby because damn you are tired as hell. you told miguel no more babies after your first because pregnancy is exhausting. well, at least no more babies for a long time since who knows if you and miguel wish to have more in the future. he can’t blame you after seeing the exhaustion on your face during these last few months. but for right now, this baby is all you need and you can’t wait to meet her.

“i just realized we don’t have a name yet.”

you and miguel sit outside the patio of your apartment, sunbathing while enjoying a bowl of fruit. you wear a simple periwinkle babydoll dress with daisies, your large baby bump sticks out adorably in it. the bowl of fruit rests on top of your belly as a table, a tiny plastic bowl of course, easier to eat from. your legs rests comfortably on miguel’s lap as his large, calloused hands caressed them.

“oh, you’re right. we haven’t thought about one.” his brows furrowed slightly, thinking as miguel takes a few grapes from the bowl.

“all this time, three weeks until she’s born and we still haven’t thought of a name for her.” you giggle, munching on a few of your favorite fruits.

miguel huffs, grinning. “great parents, huh?”

you think as you feed him a strawberry. “any ideas?”

he ponders for a moment of possible names but nothing comes to mind. “not really, ¿tú?”

no ideas popped in your mind. “nope.”

“what about your name?”

you wipe off that smirk on his stupid handsome face by feeding him another strawberry.

“we’re not following that damn hispanic tradition of naming your first kid after you.”

miguel chuckles at your bluntness. “just an idea.”

“my sister wasn’t named after my mom because she hates her name and didn’t want to do that to my sister so we’re gonna do the same thing.”

“you hate your name?” one of his thick brows arched.

“well… no. i didn’t say that! there’s one person in this family with my name and that’s me.”

that elicits another chuckle from him. “i’m just messing with you, bebé. but i love your name.” he leans forward and leaves a soft kiss on your forehead.

you roll your eyes, shyly smiling. “thanks.”

while munching on fresh fruit, no name ideas popped in either of your heads.

“ugh! why is it so difficult to come up with a name?” you slouch in your seat grumpily.

“we still have time, we’ll figure out something.” miguel reassures you, rubbing your swollen belly. “don’t stress about it, okay? it’s not good for both of you. it’ll come to us one day.”

a sigh escapes your lips. “hopefully.”

another kiss on your forehead. “for now it’ll be princesa.” his hand caresses your swollen tummy which results a kick from your baby. “she likes it.”

you hum happily, leaning against him. “i love it when you call her that, it melts my heart.”

his arm wraps around your shoulders, embracing you comfortably as his other hand grabs the bowl from on top of your belly and holds it. “i’m glad to know. she is mi princesa y tú mi reina.”

you lift your head up and look at him with a loving smile. “té quiero, mi osito.”

miguel’s heart flutters every time you call him that. you consider him your big teddy bear and he loves it. resting the fruit bowl beside him on the sofa, his hand gingerly cups your face as he leans closer and captures your lips in a gentle, loving kiss. your hand does the same and cup his cheek. the kiss is interrupted by a faint kick in your tummy.

you pull away with a giggle, caressing his cheek. “every time we kiss, she always kicks.”

“maybe she’s happy that her parents are in love.” a silly grin plastered on his face.

“they are and her parents love her.”

you and miguel go in for another kiss, resulting in another faint kick. you agree with miguel, your baby girl is happy that her parents love each other. you want nothing more than your daughter to grow up with loving parents and who love each other, to demonstrate a loving relationship.

later in the evening, you and miguel just finished having dinner. tonight was ravioli, a craving of yours which miguel had no problem making. he loves cooking for you, one of his many acts of service. you also love his cooking, he could be a chef as a side job. you told miguel once that he should have his own cooking show. he laughed and said that you should be the one with a cooking show, he adores your cooking. maybe a couple cooking show.

you rest on the couch watching a movie while miguel cleans up the kitchen. the man won’t let you touch or lift anything, just like throughout your entire pregnancy but is even more insistent about it since you could pop at any moment. in the beginning you were against it but not so much anymore considering your basketball sized tummy. besides, you get to watch your boyfriend maneuver around. admiring those bulging muscles ripple as he moves. biceps, shoulders, back, thighs. all so scrumptious.

once the dishes were washed and stored away, miguel makes a quick visit to the bathroom but not before leaving a kiss on your forehead then finally making his way over there. after doing his business and while washing his hands, he feels his phone vibrating in his back pocket. quickly drying his hands with a towel, miguel reached behind with a hand, grabs his phone and sees who’s calling.

‘IRONHEAD’

flash is calling him and that’s not a good sign. there are only two reason why he would call him: either for a mission or get-together with the team. miguel really hopes it is the second option even though he isn’t in the mood to go out, not with you about to give birth soon and he told the guys that.

exhaling deeply, miguel presses the green button and brings up the phone to his ear. it was a very long, hectic conversation. frustrated groans, mumbling, and swear words thrown around. it was so long that you eventually got worried since he has never taken that long in the bathroom. miguel knew you would eventually make your way over here. finally, he hangs up and heads back to the living room with not so good news hanging heavily on his shoulders.

you’re about to get up until miguel enters the room. the relief smile on your face falters when you notice his anxious expression. thick brows furrowed and eyes filled with apprehension.

“what’s wrong?” now your brows furrowed.

another long, deep breath of anxiety escapes his lips. “we need to talk about something…”

suddenly, your heart starts beating fast with anxiety. oh that isn’t good and honestly you’re scared. the moment miguel sits down next to you, the tension settles in. thick, heavy, and unsettling. both of you are nervous wrecks but miguel is more anxious since he’s about to tell you the worse news imaginable. he can already envision the tears of anger and frustration that will soon come in a few seconds.

“flash called me…” miguel starts off, his hand seeking yours and gently holds it. god, he feels like dying of anxiety. too afraid to speak the truth but mainly your reaction and where this conversation goes. “there’s a mission that i can’t back out.”

your brows furrowed a bit more. a mission, okay. the man is in the military, it’s bound for missions to come up. however, they can vary and the apprehension on miguel’s face say this isn’t an ordinary mission.

a shaky breath escapes his lips as miguel prepares to spill the unfortunate news of all.

“it’s in south america and… i don’t know long it’s gonna take and i have to fly out tomorrow.”

you feel your heart drop so suddenly. a plague of anxiety invades your veins completely, coursing through your body so viciously.

“t-tomorrow? what do you mean tomorrow?” you panic. “you can’t leave, not right now.”

“i know, baby, i know.” miguel squeezed your hand reassuringly, his heart breaking at your panic state. “i don’t want to leave either but i can’t back out on this, i have no choice—”

“you do have a choice!” you stand up abruptly, as much as you can due to your heavy tummy. “you don’t have to leave, miguel! you can’t leave!”

his heart continues breaking. “mi reina, siéntate por favor.” miguel tries to reach out for your hand to calm you down but you back away from his attempt.

“no, miguel! you can’t leave! she’s almost here and you’re leaving?! i need you here! she needs you here!”

he knew it would reach to this breaking point. you panicking, crying, and begging to him to stay. each cry is a stab to his heart. miguel hates seeing you cry, especially when he is the reason for it.

miguel stands up, a remorseful look in his eyes. desperate to reach out and pull you back into his arms. “mi reina, i know. i want nothing more than to stay here with you and be here for you and our daughter. i don’t wanna leave you two, it’s the last thing i want and i fucking hate leaving you. i told flash no many times, that i refuse to go. he understood, he and the guys don’t want to do this either but command left us with no choice and said the mission won’t be successful without me.”

all you do is keep shaking your head no, refusing to believe this is happening. the love of your life, the father of your child is leaving you for god knows how long before the birth of your daughter. suddenly, it feels like your world is crumbling. everything is crashing down like a paper plane. one minute you were enjoying fresh fruit and sunbathing while discussing possible baby names, then your boyfriend has to leave you and your baby for a mission in another fucking country for an unknown amount of time. how the fuck did things change so drastically?

“no, you can’t.” you keep shaking your head in denial as tears spill uncontrollably. “you can’t leave. she’s almost here, miguel. she’s almost here and i can’t do this alone, please don’t do this.”

miguel’s heart continues breaking immensely at the sight of your tears. it triggers his own tears to fall. “lo siento, mi reina. lo siento mucho.” he attempts to reach out for your hand and you don’t fight back, bringing you closer to him into his hold.

“miguel, por favor.” you look up at him with pleading, glossy eyes. “please don’t leave me… not again…”

fuck, that shatters his heart completely.

he left you once, broke your heart, broke your trust, and he forever hated himself for that. now miguel has to do the one thing he swore to leave do again, only this time he had no choice. now he hates being in the military. he has to leave you and it fucking hurts, especially to leave you when your baby will arrive soon. miguel doesn’t want to miss the birth of his daughter. he needs to be there for her, for you.

why did it have to be now?

at this moment, he hated being in the military.

“lo siento mucho, mi reina.” his calloused hands gently cup your face and wipe your never-ending tears. “i don’t wanna leave you and our baby. not again, mi reina. i’m so so sorry…”

your apartment is filled with the sounds of your sobs. both of you are crying at this moment. you completely break down and miguel doesn’t hesitate to pull you to his chest and embrace you tightly, feeling your trembling figure in his arms. afraid to let you go, doesn’t ever want to let you go.

the rest of the night was a sobbing catastrophe. the four walls of your apartment concealed with your heartbroken sobs and pleads.

what if he doesn’t come back?

what if he’s killed in combat?

what if, instead of celebrating the birth of your daughter, you are mourning the death of your boyfriend?

the excitement of becoming a family now ruined.

the day you and miguel have been dreading has come. the day he leaves for south america. since you’ve been crying all night, you feel utterly exhausted besides feeling depressed. you sat there in bed all miserable watching miguel pack up and get ready for his departure. every time your eyes meet, miguel had a guilty, remorseful expression. it pained him to see how miserable you looked. those tearful eyes silently begging him to stay, stop packing, dive back into bed with you, and stay with you forever. miguel hated this just as much as you do.

despite how much he hates to leave you, there is only one person miguel trusts to take care of you while he’s gone. he contacted his mother and ask her to stay here with you until he returns. the woman did not hesitate to agree and make her way over. you didn’t bother to argue, too busy being miserable. but truth be told, you actually don’t mind conchata staying here and helping out. you would love to spend more time with her, you know she’d do anything for you and the baby. she’s pretty much your mother-in-law. you agree with the plan. however, you still wish for miguel to stay.

through teary tears, you watch miguel return from the bathroom clad in all black attire. even feeling miserable, he still manages to take your breath away. he approaches the nightstand, opens the drawer, and takes out his pistol that he keeps here ever since he’s been staying at your place. protection purposes of course. miguel won’t take any risks, especially when it comes you and the baby. no harm has come yet the man is accustomed to securing and protecting. after checking the clip of ammo and putting the safety on, miguel shoves the pistol in the back of his pants and covers it with his shirt. his eyes meet yours once again but this time you look away, concealing the tears already spilling. his heart aches every time, so much guilt plaguing his body.

eventually, conchata arrives to see the heartbreaking sight in front of her. her son prepared to leave for another dangerous mission and her future daughter-in-law silently crying. you and miguel are in the living room by the time she gets there. she greets her eldest with a hug and kiss before approaching you.

“oh mija…” she gently pulls you into a tight, comforting embrace which you accept immediately and softly sob into her shoulder.

miguel observed solemnly, heartbroken for you and dreading his departure. he really doesn’t want to go, not to leave you crying and begging for him. he didn’t want this yet he was left with no choice. the ringing from his phone snaps him out of those depressing thoughts. a text message from flash saying he and the guys are here waiting in the car outside.

it’s time to leave, unfortunately.

breaking your embrace, conchata gives your arms a comforting rub with a soft reassuring smile before walking over to say goodbye to her son. miguel embraces his mother, exhaling deeply.

“té amo mucho, mijo. lo prometo. cuídate mucho, mijo, por favor.” she glances up at him. “make sure to come back to your family.”

you and your daughter. his beautiful family.

miguel silently promises to not allow his mother to lose another son, to not leave you a widow and single mother, to not leave his daughter without a father.

he will come back, he’ll make sure of it.

“lo prometo, mamá. té amo.” he plants a kiss on her scalp and embraces her one last time before he moves on to you, conchata stepping aside and turning around to give you both privacy.

instinctively, your head starts shaking as tears swell in your eyes for the nth time. “please don’t go…” you grip onto his shirt as if you’re terrified to let him go.

his heart continues to shatter. “lo siento, mi reina.” miguel’s strong arms wrap around you and hold you close to him, as much as your swollen belly allows you which is lightly pressed against his abs. “i promise to come back to you and our baby. i swear it, mi amor. i will come back to you both.”

his sincere words make you break down uncontrollably. you know miguel will do everything he can to come back home to you and the baby. you know he doesn’t want to leave as much as you do. you sob into his chest as his arms tighten around you, holding your trembling form. one last hug before he disappears for who knows how long. one last time to be with each other before parting ways.

miguel leans down, you reach up and capture each other’s lips for one final kiss. a kiss that you wish it could last forever. calloused hands gingerly cup your face. you grip onto his wrists tightly, afraid to let him go. savoring this one final kiss, savoring the taste of each other before drifting away. miguel gives you one last kiss then kneels in front of your swollen tummy and adorns it with loving kisses. your fingers gently brush through those soft brown curls one last time.

“i promise to come back to you, mi princesa.” he whispers against your belly, earning a faint kick which makes you both smile sadly. rising to his full height towering you, he cups your cheek. “i’ll come back to you, mi reina. té quiero tanto.”

“té quiero.” you desperately reach out to tug on his dog tags and bring him down for another final kiss which is sadly interrupted by miguel’s phone ringing, making him groan in frustration.

miguel whispers you a final ‘i love you’ before parting ways and grabbing his black duffle bag from the kitchen counter. you start sobbing more as you watch him preparing to leave. conchata turns around and approached you with open arms. sighing heavily, miguel turns around to look at you both one last time with a remorseful expression before opening the door and walking out, closing it behind him. you broke down once again as you watch the love of your life leave for the second time. conchata brings you into her arms and embraces you deeply as you sob. the four walls of your little apartment conceal the heartbroken sound of your sobs and wails.

your life is changed once again by a unfortunate incident. however, this time hurt much more.

that same guilty, agitated expression never faltered as miguel geared up and sit in his seat of the helicopter. his clothes covered with tactical gear. bulletproof vest, tactical helmet with night vision goggles attached, another pair of goggles that are ballistic meant for eye protection, his pistol as a secondary weapon stored the holster strapped on his right thigh, and additional equipment. a rifle in his hands while waiting for takeoff.

the rest of the squad are strapped in. flash next to miguel, ben and kaine seated across from them. as the engine starts, flash notices miguel’s somber expression which causes him to place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. miguel flinched at the contact but immediately recognizes his teammate.

“you’ll make it back to her, both of them.” the blonde gives his teammate’s shoulder a light pat.

miguel sighs heavily, lowering his head with a head shake. “i feel fucking terrible leaving her. leaving at the worst fucking time imaginable.”

the blonde frowns remorsefully. “i know man, i gave command shit but of course they don’t give a fuck. lets just hope this shit isn’t a long one and you’ll be back in time before your kid comes.”

the brunette simply nods. miguel really hopes he’ll be back in time before the baby is born so he can be there for you when the day comes. sitting by your side, holding your hand in his as you welcome your daughter into the world. a dream he wants to come true. he’ll do anything to make it come true.

“appreciate it, ironhead.”

flash pats his shoulder a once again. “always, man.”

the helicopter finally takes off and the men’s journey to south america begins. throughout the flight, miguel only thinks about you. never once you left his mind. he knows you’re struggling with his departure but his mother is there to care for you. he knows you’re safe and being taken care of. but the guilt still lingers in his heart. he would rather be at home with you than stuck on this damn helicopter. however, miguel will do whatever he can to come home to you.

he won’t disappear forever this time.

𝓣𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. ♡ @reverieblondie @nina-from-317 @kavimoo @aly29a2001 @lazyjellyfish300 @tojishugetiddies @aphinthestars @novelaaaaaaaa @imamexican @obessgurlll @deputy-videogamer @lovehadlovelost @agoddoesnotplead @saintdiior @whoopwhoppghost @tomalymme @skadiloki @asterrrrose @glossygreene @youcantseem3 @resident-clown @kutsipie @zuevcs @totorotales-08 @meowgirl1 @sukunash0e @sirendyes @leahnicole1219 @lisa-takeshi @yehet-moi-ohorat @slowlyshycomputer @wasitforrevenge @webshoootrz @f1-hoff @chaeriescola @espressopatronum454 @trocaderoisyummy @totallygyomeiswife @mcmiracles @celestialgarden23 @tatatida @whdhjfjvjvjfjdhsj @nocturne-light @xenop0p @juneonhoth @ghostsdoll @marshmallowsforever @ibelyss @imissubaee @demonic-bird @fandomtrash5092 ( if you’re not tagged, age/age-range is require since this fic is 18+, context for reasons why )

© teenidlegirl. don’t steal, plagiarize, or translate my work. ♡

[miedei]

plots and plans

the team's gotten to know spencer's gf very well... but now there's a new face in the bau (aka emily gets initiated into the team... by meeting mystery girl!)

a/n: this fic took an ungodly amount of time its been in my drafts for months but <333 mystery girl <333 (this is fr just a bau team fic at this point)

(look at '#mystery girl!au' on my blog to see more musings about them <3)

cw: alcohol consumption, reader referred to as a woman, reader is around spencer’s age in s1/s2 (23-24), the team plotting, use of y/n eugghhhhh

wc: 3.4k

part one | part two | mlist

(reblogs are the only way to promote fics on tumblr! please reblog if you enjoyed it :) )

SSA Emily Prentiss is perfectly wonderful. Garcia thinks so, and so does Morgan. Sure, they miss Elle, and they miss working with her, but leaving the BAU was something she’d needed. Besides, Penelope wasn’t letting Elle out of the team’s outings anyway. 

So, the two of them really have nothing against Prentiss. She’s kind, good at her job, and fits into the dynamic of the team well. However, at the end of her third case with the team, something of interest happens that makes them start to plot against her. Lovingly.

Morgan’s on the phone with Garcia, letting her know that the unsub was in custody, when Emily comes up to him, tapping his shoulder. Without hanging up, he draws the phone away from his ear, turning to her questioningly.

“Morgan. Can I ask you something? About Reid?” At his sound of agreement, she plows on.

“Does he… He’s so young. Do you think he’s had the social experiences he needs?” She shakes her head slowly. “He’s so sweet that it makes me worry. I mean, a kid going to university at 14, that’s got to make you miss out on a lot of things, right?” She gestures to Spencer, and Morgan turns to see him. 

Spencer is fiending off the officers mobbing him with thanks and congratulations for his breakthrough on the case. A smile creeps up on Morgan’s face, watching him fiddle with his hands and bow his head nervously, trying to find a way out of the group.

“I mean, yeah, Reid’s a little clueless in some ways, but I don’t think it really affects him too much. He’s learned to adapt quickly.”

Emily frowns, still looking at Spencer. “I feel like there are things everyone deserves to experience, you know? He hasn’t been able to do so many things because he’s achieved so much. I mean, he’s never even dated someone, has he? Did you see the way he handled that witness?”

Morgan bites back the urge to laugh uncontrollably. Earlier in the case, Spencer was interrogating a witness, Morgan, Emily and Gideon watching through the one-way mirror. He recalls the way the woman grabbed hold of Spencer’s patterned tie, twisting the fabric in her fingers with a sly smile. Spencer, the sweetheart he is, had recognised the flirting, but did his best not to mention it, pulling his tie out of her grip multiple times as he stuttered through his questions, until Gideon came in to save him. 

Morgan recognised that for what it was, Spencer’s incredulity that anyone other than you, the person he’s so obsessed with, would ever try something with him. 

But Emily, poor, sweet, Emily, had assumed the same thing the rest of the team had, years ago. That Spencer was nothing more than an inexperienced nervous wreck, that had never even kissed a girl. Morgan shamefully remembers the time he’d been proven wrong of this same assumption.

Emily’s face is so earnest, that Morgan almost doesn’t want to pop the bubble, disturb her impression of Reid. Instead, he just pats her shoulder with the hand not holding his phone.

“Trust me, Prentiss. Reid’s missed a few things, but he’s fine.”

Walking away from her, he remembers that he didn’t hang up the phone, bringing it up to his ear to hear Garcia speaking rapidly, clearly having heard his exchange with Emily.

“-and she doesn’t know! Oh my god, you hunk, wouldn’t that be so good? She’d experience what we did back then and-” Morgan cuts her off. 

“Babygirl, what? I didn’t catch that first bit, who’s going to experience what?”

Garcia takes a deep breath, and Morgan can picture her smile. “Okay, I know you're always thinking, ‘what is the wonderful thing about having the most beautiful and brilliant woman you’ve ever seen in your life?’, and, sweetheart I’ll tell you. It’s that I have a wonderful, wonderful brain, and I have a plan we have to set in motion.”

Derek sighs, but he knows he’s all in before she even says the word. “Alright, princess. Hit me with it.”

Garcia insists that the plan must be unfolded in three stages. Three stages, in order to make sure that Emily’s introduction to you will be just as bewildering as it was to them.

Stage 1: Confirmation. 

Emily’s assumption of Spencer’s inexperience had to be nurtured, demonstrated to her, to lull her into a false sense of security, the way the team had for far too long. 

Morgan and Garcia begin just one week after the case, a paperwork day where the team is confined to the bullpen for hours. Emily is sat at her desk, across the aisle from Morgan’s, when Garcia walks by, a phony excuse for her presence spilling out of her mouth. 

“Just got to drop these files off to Gideon!” She speaks too loudly, to no one in particular, and Morgan groans internally at her unsubtlety. Emily quirks an eyebrow at him, but he doesn’t say anything, even when Garcia taps her nose in a very exaggerated manner. 

No time to cover up for her, Morgan’s got work to do, and a time limit to boot.

“So, Prentiss. You’ve had three cases here so far, you’ve gotten to know the team. I wanna know, what are your impressions of all of us?” Emily narrows her eyes at him, but swivels her chair so she’s facing him. Bingo. 

He grins as she leans forward, speaking lightly. “My impressions? What, you want me to profile you guys?” 

He holds up a finger. “Ah ah ah. I’m a profiler too, don’t act like you haven’t been doing that to us since the day we met. Now, tell me. Why don’t you start with, say, Reid?” He winces internally, hearing the eagerness in his voice. Despite that, Emily replies readily.

“Well, I’m probably just going to tell you things you already know. He’s brilliant, insecure, anxious about not only himself but us, worries about his mother all the time. Socially unsure of himself, especially in non-professional settings.” As she speaks, Spencer walks into the bullpen from Gideon’s office, accompanied by Garcia, whose eyes are filled with poorly-contained mischief.

“...and, my good doctor, she was flirting with you! Didn’t you see the way she tried to give you coffee for free?” An expression of puzzlement flits across Spencer’s face, looking at Garcia as he grips the file in his hand. 

“Garcia, why are we talking about this again? That happened weeks ago, and I still don’t think she was doing anything more than-” She cuts him off with a palm facing him, barreling forward with her rant, eyeing Prentiss blatantly as she speaks.

“You never think they’re doing anything more until they’re the ones gripping those little ties of yours. Spencer, you don’t think anyone is ever flirting with you!” Prentiss nods at Morgan, speaking under her breath with a smirk.

“Uncomfortable in non-professional settings, especially romantic ones.” She sits back in her desk chair, swivelling away as Garcia ushers Spencer to his desk, ignoring all of his questions. 

Spencer sits with a huff, confused. He pulls out his phone surreptitiously. 

SPENCE <3: They’re being weird. Again.

Garcia has filled JJ in, and she is ecstatic. She still remembers the horrifying embarrassment that she hadn’t realised something so huge about her best friend. It might be a little juvenile, but it will definitely bring her a little comfort if Emily, profiler extraordinaire, makes the same mistake. 

It’s five days later, and they’ve moved onto the second phase of the plan.

Step 2: Doubt.

Garcia has decided that sowing seeds of confusion, the way the team had been confronted that one time at the bar, was the way to make sure Emily has the full experience of being one-upped by that infuriating man, according to her.

JJ’s role is the whisperer, making sure that Emily witnesses suspicious activity. She’s taking this immensely seriously, Garcia having impressed upon her the responsibility of this guise. 

Walking past Spencer’s desk, she shoots a glance at Emily, confirming her distraction, before speaking into the room, “Everyone had a good day off yesterday? Spence, went to that exhibit at the Living Museum?” 

A dreamy smile flashes over Spencer’s face, before he makes sure to school his features, allowing only a small grin to remain. “Um, yeah. We went to go see the aviary, they’ve got some new Southeast Asian birds in.” Yes. JJ resists the urge to smirk, but her hopes are quickly dashed when Spencer moves on without a word. “I think Gideon would really enjoy it actually, I’ve been meaning to…” She groans internally, tuning out of his meandering ramble about bird migration patterns. There’s no way Emily clocked that tiny ‘we’. 

JJ isn’t one to give up easily, though. Any good plan requires patience, so she waits another day before attempting again.

The team is on the jet on the way to a case, and JJ is sitting strategically at the table with Emily, Derek, Spencer, and Garcia on the grainy laptop screen. Garcia’s hands fly around animatedly as she finishes describing the state of the case. 

Hotch raises his head from the case file, proceeding to assign everyone preliminary tasks, when JJ nods at Garcia subtly, and watches as she begins to rush around her office in a whirl, finally snatching up her cell phone. It’s a wonder that no one else notices the rush of movement on the screen, leaving JJ holding her breath, hoping that Emily or Spencer don’t catch wind. 

Finally, two minutes later, Garcia sits back down at her desk, feigning nonchalance. 

“Yep! Okay, sounds like you guys all have it under control, so— I’m going to go, do my techy things in my techy room. Okay? Garcia out!” 

The image of her disappears from the screen, and JJ grips her mug tightly, fearing that Garcia gave it away. Gideon chuckles, but other than that, it seems that everyone has written it off as a regular Garcia-ism. Thank god. Hotch continues his spiel.

A few seconds later, Spencer’s cell phone rings, the ringtone different from the one everyone is used to hearing when he’s called by one of the team members, but JJ recognizes the 8-bit rendition of Vivaldi’s Summer that you helped him set up for your number.

She can see Emily tilt her head from next to her, but JJ resists the urge to look up, keeping her eyes trained on the case file in her hands, and nodding along with Hotch’s words. 

The sound of Spencer rustling around for his phone meets her ears, and the subtle sigh of happiness that he lets out when he sees the caller ID. The beep of him accepting the call and standing to walk to the kitchenette float through the cabin, and the whispered ‘excuse me’ when he walks into the curtained room.

JJ can almost hear the confusion radiating from Emily, knowing that the newer agent’s utterly baffled at the sight of Spencer missing out on the discussion currently happening.

She can only pat herself on the back for having maneuvered Emily into the seat closest to the kitchenette, too, because the way she stiffens when hearing Spencer’s saccharine-sweet voice say ‘hey, angel’ is just the cherry on top.

JJ whips out her cell phone, texting Garcia discreetly that the plan was a success, receiving a flurry of emojis in return. Unseen, Gideon looks over her shoulder.

In the kitchenette, Spencer furrows his brows, confused. 

“Wait, Garcia told you I needed to talk?” 

Your tinny voice flows through the phone and into his ear. 

“Yeah! She texted and said you asked for me but wouldn’t call for some reason? I don’t know, it was strange. You know I don’t call you when you’re on a case, but I thought it was an emergency or something.” 

He sighs heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. 

“I told you, they’re being weird! I asked Morgan what was going on and he just laughed.”

Your matching sigh rings out. “If they’re not going to tell you, I think there’s nothing to do but let it happen until it comes out. They always tell in the end, anyway.”

His shoulders slump in annoyance, but he begins to nod. 

“I guess you’re right. It’s still annoying.”

The case wraps up four long days later, and the team pile into a booth at O’ Keefe’s all in similar states of sleep-deprived delirium. Spencer would much rather be at home right now, but Garcia was persuasive as usual, crooning on about how ‘your ladylove gets you every day, can’t you give us one evening?’. 

Despite his love for the team, their increased strangeness hasn’t abated over the days they were working. 

Even now, JJ, Derek and Penelope sit across from Spencer in the booth, huddled around each other and whispering behind cupped hands. Granted, they weren’t this obvious over the last few days, but their drinks have only weakened their resolve to not let Spencer and Emily in on whatever they’re doing, not broken it. 

Making up his mind to ignore them, Spencer has resorted to leaning into the other end of the booth, chatting idly with Gideon, Hotch and Emily. Hotch is smilier than usual, three beers deep and showing them a seemingly endless amount of baby pictures of Jack from his wallet. 

He can’t help but smile at the grainy photos of the chubby baby, grinning to himself at the memory of the last time he saw Jack. 

He’d been leaving the office to meet you, and ran into Hotch and Haley in the elevator, stroller in tow. The image of you excitedly waving at little Jack, holding out your hand and letting him grip on to your index finger is burned into his brain. He’ll probably never forget it, eidetic memory or not. 

The multiple drinks he’s had allow a lovestruck look to settle on his face as he half-listens to Hotch’s tales. They also make sure that he doesn’t notice the puzzled look that Emily flashes at him, same as the ones she’s been sneaking for days now. 

However, no amount of drinks can let him ignore the strange way that Gideon is acting. The stately profiler is normally rather talkative on nights like these, subtly teasing the team or devolving into long tangents about an old far-fetched story. 

Tonight, however, he’s silent, merely nodding along to Hotch’s words. 

Spencer can’t help but be weirded out, especially when he catches Gideon looking over at him with an expression of repressed mirth, as if he knows something Spencer doesn’t. It’s slightly infuriating, the way it feels as though everyone is keeping things from him these days. 

He knows it’s not exactly the smartest thing to do, but he offers to go to the bar for another round of drinks. If they’re going to be weird, he might as well have something to help tide him over. 

You’re at home when Gideon calls, informing you that Spencer’s gotten more drunk than usual, and it’s probably a good idea that you come get him. 

As you pull on your coat, you can hear Spencer ranting loudly about Rachmaninoff in the background, laughing to yourself when Gideon assures you that he’s fine. 

(Curiously, you hear an unfamiliar voice question Gideon, ‘Who’re you calling?’ before he hangs up.)

Arriving at the dimly lit bar, you crane your neck to try and glimpse Spencer and his coworkers, coming up blank. 

You’re just about to call Gideon again when a suspiciously swaying, lanky individual catches your eye. Sure enough, Spencer is standing by a wall, gripping a glass in both hands and staring into the middle distance, seemingly alone. 

Pocketing your cell phone, you make your way over to him, feeling a familiar infatuated smile start to bloom on your face. 

“Hey, handsome. You here alone?” He blinks rapidly before focusing on you, eyes widening dramatically. 

“You’re here! How are you here, I thought-” He hiccups, the action causing his entire body to wobble, your hand shooting out to steady him. 

“I thought you were at home!” He takes the hand you have on his waist, tugging you closer until he can drape himself against your side, tall frame hunched over you. 

You have to giggle, widening your stance so you can support the two of you as you look around the bar, hoping to find any of his coworkers. 

Unfortunately, you come up blank, assuming they're in the booths towards the back that you can’t see. Sighing, your hand comes up to rub at the nape of his neck, causing Spencer to sigh happily, bending even further so that his face is buried in your hair. 

“Spence, where’s the team? We’ve gotta say goodbye before we go,” You murmur softly, feeling him relax further and further. His voice is higher than normal, muffled due to his refusing to raise his head from yours. 

“I dunno, they’re sitting… somewhere, and Emily said she’d come find me after I came here. Did you know, she listens to Eric Carmen? I was telling her about the lawsuit Rachmaninoff’s estate filed against him, and…” 

He must keep talking, you can feel the vibrations against the crown of your head, but he’s shifted his face to where his mouth is pressed against your scalp, taking with it any hope of understanding his words.

You’re waiting patiently for him to finish, when a dark-haired woman catches your eye. She stands a few feet away from you, peering at you curiously, as if trying to suss something out. Her face is obscured due to the shadowy lights, but she looks vaguely familiar. 

Stopping your ministrations on Spencer’s neck, you entreat him to look up. 

“Hey, do you know who that is?” He raises his head with a heaving sigh, as if it’s taking all his energy. He nods once, before returning his face to your hair, snatching your hand and placing it on the back of his neck again. 

“Yeah, it’s Prentiss.” He falls silent after that, but at least he gave you something. 

You’ve heard a lot about Emily Prentiss from him, although you haven’t had the chance to meet her yet. Waving her over, you smile brightly. 

“Hi! You’re Emily?”

She walks over to you, expression wary, until she catches a proper glimpse of Spencer’s face, at least, what’s visible of it. 

“Reid? It is you…” Her face is bewildered, confused, looking at you. 

“Sorry, who are you?” You stick out the hand that Spencer isn’t holding hostage, shaking hers.

“Hi, I’m Y/N, his girlfriend. It’s really nice to meet you, I’ve heard great things from Spencer and the others.” She looks more stunned, if that’s possible, but stutters out a greeting. 

It reminds you of the time you met the rest of the team, the way they’d stared incredulously at you when Spencer introduced you. Thinking back to Penelope’s multiple texts confirming that you weren’t coming tonight, it seems you’ve figured out why they’ve been acting weird.

You can’t help but smile pityingly at her, knowing how she’s feeling. Gesturing at the man clinging on to you, you give her an out from the conversation.

“I think I should be taking him home. Would you mind telling the rest where we went? I don’t want them to worry.”

She nods wordlessly, watching after you as you slowly lead Spencer out of the bar and into the night. 

SSA Emily Prentiss is a profiler. A spy. She’s accustomed to learning everything there is to know about an individual within a few days of knowing them. It’s for these reasons that she stands, dumbstruck, in the middle of O’ Keefe’s. 

Spencer Reid has a girlfriend. And she didn’t figure it out??

She resolves to go back through the profiling notes she’d taken in her time at the academy. Maybe twice. 

Shuffling back to the booth, she’s stuck in her head, eyes wide and thoughts flickering at ten times their normal speed. It’s clearly noticeable, Derek looking concerned when she slides into her seat once more. 

“Prentiss? Are you okay?”

She reaches out to snag her beer, turning the glass in her hand. Her voice is low, still confused as to how she missed it. 

“Spencer’s girlfriend came to take him home.”

Her words incite identically incredulous squawks from JJ, Morgan and Garcia, all of them incensed. 

“You met her? She wasn’t going to come tonight, we had a plan!” Penelope exclaims in frustration, looking around the table. 

Gideon merely shrugs, his amused half-smile finally emerging. 

“Plan took too long. Took it into my own hands.”

Morgan has to hold Penelope back from lunging at him.

[stellewriites]

cw: soft & sweet, stud gaz, ace gaz

thank you to woolie who practically wrote half of this fic with me on discord and to birdy who continues to get me hyped and inspired about butch 141 as a whole <3 ily guys

the bar wasn’t new, but you’d never been inside despite how your friends had raved about it in the group chat over the last few months.

you weren’t one to go out late often, your work kept you busy and tired more often than not, and the rest of the time you just didn’t like to have to explain that you don’t drink.

but it was a gay bar, a good gay bar from what you’d heard, and your friends had reassured you that the alcohol-free menu was more than just a glass of oj or a can of coke. so you went.

it didn’t take them long to recognise other regulars there, each of your friends nipping off one by one with a quick, “i’ll be right back, i just want to say hi,” until you were stood alone. you debated joining one of them, making new friends with any of the numerous people they knew already, but ultimately decided to head to the bar first and grab yourself a drink before joining whoever was nearest when you turned around.

the place was smoky, low lit, like something out of an old movie; and with its live band and carefully curated secondhand furniture, you’d have been tempted to call it pretentious if the authenticity wasn’t really working for the vibes of the place.

you hopped onto a barstool and picked up a little menu, humming in disappointment when you couldn’t find the alcohol free section. you noticed the lack of prices on the other drinks however and sucked your teeth, recognising it as a sign of an expensive establishment; you knew your pockets would be woefully empty by the end of the night.

“can i help you with a recommendation?” a smooth voice had you looking up into gorgeous, deep brown eyes. even the bartender looked like she belonged on the big screen with the way her locs framed her slim face. your breath caught. “i bet you like something sweet,” she continued now that she had your attention. “fruity?”

“do you have a non alcoholic beer?” you asked. you’d be paying through the nose for it in comparison to the other dives you usually haunt, but it’d give you a baseline for how much anything else would be costing.

the bartender winced. “sorry, honey, we’ve only got a local brewery’s ipa on tap.”

you looked back to the menu as if it will have suddenly spawned the information you wanted.

“prefer something earthy then? hint of spice?” she asked you. “we have a few non alcoholic gins.”

it was your turn to wince. “i like something with a bit of bite,” you admitted.

she grinned. “i’ve got just the thing,” she said and turned to start making your drink. “i’m gaz, by the way.”

you introduced yourself and she grinned over her shoulder, her attitude was infectious and you felt yourself relax as you sat there.

“did you come alone tonight?”

“no, i came with some friends but they’re just saying hi to a few people so i figured i’d check out the menu while they were busy,” you said.

“there you go,” she placed your drink down in front of you. it was a deep red that faded in to orange, garnished with a slice of lemon. “clean whiskey sour.”

you took a sip and felt your eyes widen. she laughed at your expression and dusted her hands off exaggeratedly.

“wow, that’s amazing. how much was that? think i’ve found my drink for the night,” you chuckled.

“mocktail so it’s cheaper than the real stuff,” she said and gave you the price. you ordered a second as you pulled out your purse and handed her a note.

you turned to see if you could locate one of your friends and pursed your lips as you saw them all engaged midway through their conversations. it’s maybe be a little awkward to go and interrupt to join now, but you didn’t want to sit alone all night either.

“hey, honey,” gaz called gently. you turned back to her and she reached forward with an empty hand towards your ear, you didn’t have time to frown or flinch before she was pulling it back in front of your face, a £2 coin suddenly perched between her fingers.

you blinked before you processed that the hot bartender had just given you your change via sleight of hand magic.

fucking hell. as if you weren’t already interested in her.

you bit back your budding smile and gently took your change, your grin breaking free when you made eye contact with her and she waggled her eyebrows.

“that part of the usual service or does it come with the ‘sour?” you asked as she placed the second glass in front of you.

she moved to clean up what she’d used to make your drink with a casual shrug. “reserved for my more interesting customers.”

you hummed.

her eyes flickered to the booths dotted around, the thin crowd sat at your back.

“i know you probably have your friends to go find soon,” she started coyly. “but if you don’t think they’ll miss you too much, i’d enjoy having some good company for once.”

she came to stand in front of you again, placing her palms on the bar-top and broadening her already impressive, toned shoulders. you were glad it was warm inside and that she’d decided to go sleeveless for her shift if only for the current view of her as she leant ever so closer into your space. “it’s a slow night; if you’re willing to stick around here with me it might keep me from going stir crazy.”

“we can’t have that,” you said, playing along. “who would make me another one of these if you started climbing the walls?”

“exactly,” she agreed. “it’s a public service you’d be doing really. without me, the bar would close.”

“oh is that so? your boss know you have such a high opinion of your drink making skills?” you joked.

“i own the bar, babes,” she said with a gloating grin. “and you don’t think i deserve to talk big?” she nodded to your almost empty glass and you pursed your lips.

“ok, yeah,” you admitted. “and it’s pretty impressive that this place is yours too.”

“yeah?” she asked with a teasing grin.

“i think i need to test your knowledge, though, to see if it’s all for show or not,” you pushed back, not letting her gain the upper hand in the flirty conversation.

“go ahead, honey, i’m ready,” she curved her fingers in a bring it on motion.

“ok, how do you make a mojito?” you asked pulling your phone out.

she reeled off the ingredients one by one confidently and you checked she was correct via google as she laughed.

“ok, that was an easy one.” you sniffed, squinting your eyes jokingly. “now the real challenge begins.”

you continued to quiz her in between the orders made further down the bar until one of your friends tapped you on the shoulder.

“hey, i came to collect you, you strayed from the group for a while there,” vanessa teased.

“oh i was just having fun with gaz,” you said and grinned at the bartender. “keeping each other company.”

“making sure i know my stuff,” gaz added with a wink sent your way. “i think i convinced you enough for one night. go have fun with your friends, honey.”

you reluctantly stood from your stool, but when you grabbed your drink - a non-alcoholic mai tai gaz had made without hesitation when you said the recipe had sounded yummy - you realised you’d not paid for your last two drinks. turning back to the bar you moved to pull out your card but gaz was already at the other side, serving someone else.

you sat down with your friends and made a note to pay later in the evening, but when time came to corral your drunk group into the taxi, the thought never crossed your mind and you didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye to her.

——

next time you go, it’s a weekend and a lot busier.

your plan to sit with gaz, reacquaint yourself and pay her back for the drinks goes out the window.

by a stroke of luck you manage to get to the bar as she’s serving instead of her colleague mixing drinks at the other end.

“hey,” she greeted you happily, tipping the brim of her cap up an inch to better see you looking up through her lashes as she half-focused on the drink in her hands. “same as last time?”

you glowed at the idea of her remembering what you’d had over a week ago, but you shook your head.

“surprise me,” you offered, felling butterflies run rampant when she grinned in return.

“take a seat,” she offered before setting to work. you pulled out one of the stools that had been tucked beneath the bar and sat patiently as she mixed your drink. it was a deep blue when she brought it over but she poured the final ingredient in and the top half turned a shimmery purple. she plopped in a straw for you and you took a sip, pleased to find that she’d stuck to non-alcoholic for you again.

“mm, that might be my favourite so far,” you gushed, biting your lip when she grinned at you. her upper lip glinted in the low light and you paused, noticing the new philtrum piercing. “you got a piercing? it’s cute.”

gaz raised a cocky eyebrow and licked her plush lips. “noticed that quick. did you spend that long staring at my lips last time you were in here, babes? cute.”

you flushed, unable to deny it, and took a flustered sip of your drink to give you time to gather your thoughts.

she chuckled and went to deal with another customer, talking to you over the raised voices of the busy bar as she started fixing the drink.

“it’s still healing but i’ll be swapping it to a gold sun when i can,” she said as she came closer again to grab a slice of lime.

“oh? we’ll be matching, look!” you said without a second thought. grinning, you pulled up a moon shaped necklace from beneath your shirt. “bought it on a whim the other day, must be fate,” you teased and snorted a quiet laugh. gaz weakly laughed along.

“must be,” she said softly, her deep eyes heavy and focused solely on you. she cleared her throat before moving to finish up the drink, leaving you alone again for a moment.

your eyes followed her along until you heard a mean snicker from your left, a muttered, unbelievable. you turned and saw another woman clearing her throat and covering her mouth with her palm, her eyes darting away from yours when you turned your head.

a bout of self-consciousness hit and you faced back towards your drink with hot cheeks. you’d not thought twice before speaking to gaz, it was second nature to be genuine with her since it’s what she gave back, but thinking back on it you could see why calling your jewellery matching would be cringey. possibly even seen as desperate on your end.

you swallowed and stood from the stool and separated from the crowd around the bar with your drink in hand. you found a small table near the edge of the room and took a seat, watched gaz from afar instead as she made the orders proficiently.

it didn’t take you long to notice how gaz didn’t linger with the other customers like she did with you; she knocked back clear flirty attempts for her attention and turned away other gorgeous women.

you watched the lemon slice go around and around as you stirred the melting ice in your cup. the fact that gaz’s gaze didn’t linger for a moment on those beautiful women had a stray thought that maybe she wasn’t interested in women flicker to life in the back of your head.

“refill?” you looked up from your glass to see gaz hovering by your table. she put down a second drink and took the first from your hands. “on the house, my treat.”

“oh, thanks,” you said with a shy smile. “busy night.”

“mm.” her hum was noncommittal. “is that why you moved seats?”

“felt like i was getting in the way,” you shrugged, avoiding her eyes. “i was thinking of leaving soon anyway, i’ll finish this off and probably head home.”

her free hand rose to pet your cheek. “i’ll save you a seat next time. i prefer it when you’re smiling at me while i work.”

“even when i make it awkward?” you couldn’t help but ask.

she frowned. putting her serving tray on the table between you, she pulled a chair close to yours and sat. “when have you made things awkward, babes?”

“that thing i said about fate, it was silly.” you tried to move past it, rolling your eyes at yourself.

“i liked it.” that shut you up quick. “a pretty girl calling me her soulmate? you think i’m letting you take that back now?” she joked, leaning in so that your shoulders knocked. “me and you are like this, now.” she crossed her fingers in front of you. “whether you like it or not.”

you snorted. “i can deal with that,” you hummed. “thanks for the drink, gaz.”

she nodded and stood reluctantly to go back to the bar, noticing her coworker growing flustered on their own. “i need to get back, but enjoy. stay as long as you want.”

though you appreciated her offer, you left soon after. you made sure to pause where she could see you and wave to her on your way out and she held up her crossed fingers again with a grin. you felt a giddy feeling bubble at the back of your throat as you headed home.

——

you started to tag along with your friends more and more often when they mentioned gaz’s, always spending a good portion of the evenings sat at the bar with gaz.

and she kept her promise, saving a barstool for you in the corner on even the busiest nights with a fierce scowl and well placed coughs to anyone that tried to sneak into it.

anyone that didn’t get the message would be ignored, no drinks made, until they’d moved again.

on a slow night, when she rolled a pound over her knuckles back and forth you asked her about her magic tricks.

“what even got you into all of that?” you gestured to the coin and then vaguely at her as a whole.

“magic?” you nodded. gaz smiled and looked down at the coin before placing it flat on the bartop between you. “my nan. she was an magician’s assistant when she was younger. she could’ve been the main star with how much she knew, but it was the 50’s. people weren’t willing to bank on the main talent being a black woman,” she scoffed and you nodded along with a sympathetic hum.

“she taught you?” you asked.

“everything i know. i’ve loved it ever since.”

her hand hovered over the pound coin, snapping her fingers on her other hand. your eyes darted away for a split second and when you looked back she was moving her hand away to reveal a penny.

you laughed and picked it up, turning it around as if it would reveal the real coin when it was in your own hand again.

“you’ll have to tell me how you do it,” you said.

she sucked her teeth. “a good magician doesn’t reveal her tricks,” she sing-songed and took the penny back from you, letting her hand hold yours for a second too long to be casual.

“aren’t you two cosy in this corner?” gaz’s coworker asked from over her shoulder. gaz turned and rolled her eyes at chris as he smirked at the two of you. he leant by to grab a chopping board before leaving the pair of you alone. as he left, he spoke, “i’m sure our gaz could show you a trick or two,” he said with heavy innuendo.

you snorted and didn’t notice how gaz stiffened.

“it’s a work night,” she said to you suddenly. “getting late. you’ll be wanting to go home soon, won’t you?”

you blinked at the sudden change in tone and nodded. with only half a drink left, you downed the bitter drink in one and stood from the bar.

“i think the girls are planning on coming in sometime soon again so i’ll see you then?”

gaz’s smile grew less shaky and she wiggled her fingers back at you as you headed out to the carpark.

——

sat at home, cross legged on the couch, you leant over the coffee table and practiced the rudimentary card trick you’d found from an online video.

“and then use the heel of your palm and the pad of your thumb to flip the correct card over the top,” the video said and you bit your lip as you tried it. you huffed when it didn’t work and tried again until the card moved how you wanted it to.

it was far from smooth and the other cards fell to the floor, but you were slowly getting the actions down. it just had to become muscle memory.

it’d take over two more months of practicing before you’d finally feel confident enough to show gaz.

——

you sat at the bar and grinned when she set down your drink. when you sniffed at it, gaz chuckled and answered your question.

“prickly pear flavour, i think you’ll like it,” she said.

you were inclined to agree, she’d not been wrong once so far. taking a sip, you hummed and took a bigger drink. you palmed the pack of cards in your jacket pocket nervously before pulling it out.

“ok don’t laugh, i’ve been practicing.” you spread the pack out in your hands as gaz stared with wide eyes, slowly growing more amused by the second as you fanned the cards out towards her. “pick a card.”

your showmanship was stiff, the words you’d memorised the man on the video saying coming across a little less flamboyant, and you fumbled the trick a little. nerves left your grip a little sweaty, but gaz reached out in time to keep the pack from falling out of your grasp. she cupped your hands and adjusted your fingers, smiling sweetly when she pulled back again and nodded for you to go on.

you cleared your throat and remembered the next step for the trick, pulling out the card fourth from the bottom and presenting it with a little more flourish.

“is this your card?” you asked.

it wasn’t.

“it is,” gaz said with an excited smile and started clapping. too smitten to bring your mood down by telling you where exactly you’d gone wrong, not when you were smiling at her like that and not after you’d obviously put so much effort into this for her.

you grinned triumphantly, ignoring the few people that had looked over at gaz’s enthusiastic applause, and put the pack to the side. you leant over the bar and snatched the sharpie from her shirt pocket; you wrote your number on the back of the card she’d claimed was hers alongside a wonky moon and sun then presented it once more to her with a softer smile.

she laughed and pulled out her phone to add your number in straight away, adding a moon emoji after your name. she rang the number and you pretended to ignore the call with an eye roll to make her laugh.

snatching your phone from you gaz huffed and muttered, “guess i’ll have to add my own cutesy nickname, huh?”

“i can be cutesy,” you argued but didn’t change the name when you saw it. you snorted.

super sexy bartender (the one with the eyes and the smile and the arms and the…)

“would’ve been quicker to type ‘humble bartender’,” you said with a snicker.

“oh, babes has jokes now?”

“i’m a barrel of laughs,” you sniffed. you turned when you heard your friends call for you. “see? i’m missed already.”

“hmm, you’ll be missed here too,” gaz hummed. “go back to your friends, i’ll text you later.”

“promise?”

“‘course.” she smiled widely.

——

the next couple of weeks were filled with you messaging back and forth during your breaks at work and throughout the day on the weekends before the bar opened and gaz got busy until the late evening… or more accurately the early morning.

one day she offhandedly mentioned that her replies might be slow because it was stock day, and her coworker had called in sick so she wouldn’t have anyone to help until their cover arrived at opening time.

you’d quickly offered her a hand (claiming you may not have muscles like her, but you could carry a box or two without sweating) and headed down when she’d eagerly agreed and the pair of you spent the afternoon together just hanging out and fixing up the stock room, music playing tinnily from gaz’s phone.

it became a habit, you going by when she had stock taking to sort out and more often than not she let her staff come in a little later so she’d have the time with you to herself.

> if you’re not busy do you want to come down to the bar later? xx

> around 12? xx

> it’s kinda important xx

< yeah of course! what’s up? xx

> my mums are in town, wondered if you want to meet them? xx

< i’ll be there for 12 xxx

despite just being friends with gaz - though you were self-aware enough to know you’d like more - you were nervous to meet her mums. you wanted to make a good impression. in fact, you wanted to impress them; leave them wheezing with laughter and contemplating your intriguing and thoughtful insights on the hot topics of the afternoon for months to come.

however likely that would be.

gaz seemed nervous too from where she stood outside the bar smoking. she dropped the cig and stubbed it dead with her trainer when she saw you however, and a wide grin overtook her face, her nervous energy calming considerably as you got closer.

“you look gorgeous,” gaz said before you got a chance to say hello. you laughed, flattered and feeling less nervous yourself as she made you do a spin in front of her before you were allowed inside.

you weren’t wearing anything special, but you supposed the last few times you’d seen gaz you’d been dressed practically to help her lift heavy boxes or dressed for your own work. your short denim skirt was maybe a little more daring than you’d first thought, despite the casual way you’d styled it.

“come on in, they’re dying to meet you,” gaz said as she led you in finally. she rubbed a hand nervously over the back of her neck, tugging at two short locs as you got closer to the table her mothers were chatting at. “might’ve talked about you a fair bit.”

“a fair bit? try a hell of a lot,” one of her mum’s said and you turned to them.

they were like chalk and cheese to look at. one dressed head to toe in flowing light cotton - a dress or skirt, you couldn't tell with the way the layers folded and sat - dyed vivid colours that seeped into each other in no particular pattern and complemented her rich skin tone. her hands were adorned in gold rings and her arms rattled with the layers of beaded bracelets she wore up her forearms. her hair, styled in passion twists, was half tied back with what looked to be a scrap piece of glossy ribbon. "i'm jasmine, kyla's mum."

“nice to meet you,” you said cheerfully and shook her hand when she held it out. her returned smile was reserved and her eyes watched you sharply.

you nervously turned to the other woman. her pinstripe suit fit her like a glove, the trousers flaring at the bottom, and her short, natural curls highlighted her round cheeks. she was just as gorgeous as jasmine, but the stern frown she was sending her wife had your hand almost shaking as you reached out for another introduction. your plan to charm them both didn’t seem as realistic as you’d hoped all of a sudden.

she turned to you and her frown broke, a splitting grin like gaz’s spread to flash the gap between her front teeth and she used your hand to pull you close for a tight and warm hug; she cooed excitedly in your ear as she swayed side to side with you still pressed close.

“we’ve been wanting to meet you ever since kyla first mentioned her new friend,” she said and finally let you go to sit down.

“mama,” gaz groaned a little embarrassedly, sitting next to you. her arm slipped to rest on the back of your chair.

“oh calm down, kyla,” jasmine tutted teasingly, swatting a jingling hand over the table at her.

you turned to her and mouthed, ‘yeah, kyla.’

she pouted but managed to hold back a second groan. menace, she thought fondly, a bashful smile tugging her pout loose.

“we were eager to see who caught our baby’s attention enough to be pulling extra shifts,” jasmine said before turning to gaz. “even tho she should be taking more breaks instead,” she finished pointedly at her daughter.

“i tell her this all the time! she works so hard,” you agreed immediately, nudging gaz’s side as if to say, ‘see?’

“not you too, honey, please. i get enough of it from my mum, i don’t need you siding with them.” gaz shrunk in her seat slightly, her hand drifted from your chair back and closer to your neck.

“‘honey’?” imani hummed, eyes bright and flicking between the pair of you with a knowing smile. “mhm.”

it was easy to see how gaz had grown to be so confident given the women she’d been raised by and the community of loving, intelligent women back in her home town that imani and jasmine spoke so fondly of like they were family. they were, really.

you spent the afternoon listening avidly as they told you about how they came to buy the bar with gaz after she finished what would be her second and final tour in the military; their hurdles when getting it set up; how much they missed her at home but loved seeing her grow and thrive here.

kyla reached out and squeezed her mums’ hands at that and you rubbed her back when you saw the glassy shine to her eyes.

“you know i’ll come back to visit soon,” she promised them. “i’m not waiting ‘til christmas again this time,” she huffed.

“your aunties will give you hell if you do,” imani warned with a wink.

“i was thinking of getting a taper and line up since these have grown in a little more anyway, and ty would kill me if she found out i went to anyone else when i could’ve seen her for it,” gaz said with a chuckle, gesturing to her locs. “i won’t leave it long.”

satisfied with her promise of future plans, her mums took advantage of their small audience and for the rest of the conversation showed you photo after photo on their phones of gaz growing up. a photo of her open-mouth smiling with her front teeth missing as a child; dressed in a small, ill-fitting suit at her prom; stood with three men in uniform, her hair shorn shorter then but with the familiar cap on her head; a picture with her mums’, this one more recent, with jasmine wearing a graduation cap and gown stood, in between to the two masculine women.

even as gaz pretended to sigh and groan in embarrassment at the memories shared, you could tell she was enjoying herself. that even if you weren’t wowing her mums like you’d imagined, your first impression had still been a good one.

you spent the afternoon with them and it was only when your stomach grumbled, having only grabbed a small lunch before setting off to meet gaz so you weren’t late, that the conversation stopped. all three women turned to you in concern and you flushed hot under the heavy attention.

“oh kyla, you dragged the poor girl over here and now she’s starving to death,” imani tutted.

“take her out for an early dinner,” jasmine said, deciding your time together was finished. “we’ll meet you back home later, there’s a few things we wanted to do before the evening anyway.”

gaz turned to you with a hopeful glint in her eyes. “wanna go grab some food? my treat.”

you nodded.

“that settles it!” imani pulled you into another long, tight hug when she stood to leave, rubbing the tops of your arms and smiling at you. “it was lovely to meet you, i can see why she’s so smitten,” she said, causing your stomach to flip and your smile to falter momentarily before widening again bashfully.

gaz was too busy grinning at her mum to hear her mama gossip, and you smiled softly at the pair as jasmine cupped her daughters cheeks and pet the soft skin beneath her eyes gently. jasmine looked the gentlest she had all afternoon, her edges softened.

she turned to you and you expected her gaze to harden a little like it had when she’d sat opposite you across the table, but she stayed soft and took your hands in hers while imani pulled gaz down for a kiss on the cheek and the forehead.

“you’re not what i’d expected,” she admitted, then moved her hand to pull our your moon necklace from beneath your shirt. her smile became knowing and satisfied, like she’d confirmed what she’d already thought true. “have a lovely dinner.”

“thank you,” you said and let her pull you in for a quick hug. “you too.”

you waved as gaz led the pair out, lingering only for a moment at the door before turning back to you.

“got a place in mind?” you asked, grabbing your jacket and bag.

“how does thai sound?” gaz asked as she opened the door for you again.

“perfect.”

——

“so you were in the military?” you asked as you ate. gaz nodded and put her chopsticks down as she spoke about her time with the 141.

“they’re still in the service but they visit when they can,” she said with a shrug. “that’s reminded me actually, johnny should be down soon enough. pretty sure he mentioned having a few weeks of leave coming up. he’s a bit full on, like a puppy, but you’d get on with him.”

you snorted. “i can’t wait to meet him.”

gaz laughed along with you as a warm, gooey feeling spread in her chest.

you walked back to her bar afterwards and lingered outside for a moment.

“want to come in?”

you shook your head. “i shouldn’t. work night and i’ve got laundry to put away when i get back.”

“ooh exciting,” she teased.

you stubbed the toe of your trainer against hers with a roll of your eyes.

“i had fun, we should do this again,” you said.

“yeah, we should,” she stepped a little closer. “thanks for coming to meet my mums, they’ve been hounding me about it.”

“oh really?” you asked with raised eyebrows and an expectant smirk.

gaz licked her lips and nodded. “yeah.”

you noticed her lidded eyes and slow breathing and sucked up the courage to make a move. you lifted a hand to rest on her hip and began to lean in to kiss her, when her eyes widened and she stepped back.

your hand hung in the air for a damning second before dropping.

“sorry, i should get inside. people will be arriving soon and i’m behind on the opening procedure because of dinner, need to cut some lemons,” she joked weakly.

“right,” you agreed faintly. “uhm, of course. sorry. i’ll see you around then.”

“i’ll text,” she said before slipping inside.

you stood there for a moment, a heavy frown settling in as dread and regret pooled low in your stomach.

you turned on your feet and walked to where you’d parked your car and headed home with an uneasy feeling roiling in your gut.

had you read it all wrong? had gaz ever really given you a signal that she was into you or where you only suddenly confident in her interest after her mums mentioned it teasingly?

you spent the evening pissed off and frustrated at yourself, roughly folding your laundry and when you were still full of an anxious energy after you’d finished, you vacuumed, changed your bedding and wiped down all of your kitchen until it was sparkling.

you collapsed on your sofa hours later with an exhausted sigh but when you closed your eyes that nervous energy still buzzed under your skin. so much for an early night before work.

“fuuuuuck it,” you threw yourself back up onto your feet and stormed to the front door, shoving on your shoes, grabbing your jacket and your keys and leaving without a second thought to how sweaty and unkempt you looked after your manic cleaning spree.

you arrived at the bar and bit your lip when you saw how busy it was, unusual for a sunday night, but maybe there was a bank holiday you were unaware of. it wasn’t as if your work gave you them off.

you pushed through the crowd and leant against the bar, waiting for gaz to notice you.

her eyes widened and her lips twitched up in a smile, faltering when you only frowned back.

“what’s up?” she asked, concern slowly bleeding into her tone.

“have i been reading this wrong?” you asked bluntly, not wanting to skirt around the topic any longer. you gestured between the two of you. “have i been pushing for something you don’t want?”

gaz shook her head and put the glass bottle she was holding down on the bar top with a thunk. her eyes were sad as she swallowed and she looked at her coworker behind the bar serving the crowd before deciding she had a moment to spare.

“full disclosure? i’m ace,” she said with a shrug. “and i guess i’ve felt like i’ve been waiting for the other shoe to drop with you.”

“oh.” you nodded. she nodded too, looking resigned. “‘waiting for the other shoe to drop’, you like me that much, huh?” you grinned and she looked taken aback. “does being ace mean you don’t like kissing?”

gaz blinked before stuttering out a reply. “n-no i do, i just— it’s the rest of it i could go without.”

you nodded again and tapped your fingers on the bar as you pushed closer, your stomach pressing into the wood.

“were you going to kiss me earlier? outside?” you gestured to the front door and bit your lip.

“yeah,” she said softly, her eyes dipping to you mouth before flitting between your eyes.

“because you like me?”

“yeah, babes,” she laughed.

“and i like you,” you confirmed eagerly, excitedly, as she leant in on her elbows.

she slowly grinned, her piercing shifting and glinting under the smoky lights. “yeah.”

“great. well. stop me if i’m wrong then.” you leant over the last few inches of the bar and kissed her, cupping her face with one hand and using the other to balance yourself. you felt her own hand trail along the back of your hand as she kissed back fervently.

“met your bloody mums and then you had me thinking i was going crazy for thinking you wanted this,” you grumbled when she pulled back for a second.

“i’ll make it up to you,” she promised with a peck to your lips again. “prickly pear?”

your eyes brightened and your pour was immediately replaced with a grin.

“oh, yes please!” you tapped your hands on the bar again, no longer full of an anxious energy but an excited one instead.

gaz leant in for another quick kiss, her lips twisting into a fond smile against yours. when she pulled back she lifted a hand to your ear and twisted it, revealing an orange slice held between her fingers.

“christ, it’s unfair how sexy that is,” you whined. “but that better not be the one going in my drink.”

butch/stud masterlist

and the moodboard!

[wlwsoccerfics]

Navigating Motherhood(GiuliaGwinnXMiedemaReader)

A/N: Hope you enjoy this cute little fic. Short but sweet.

Summary: you and your wife navigating life as Professional Football players and First time moms.

It has been two months since you and your wife Giulia became mothers. You have given birth to a beautiful Baby Girl named Florence 'Flo' Violet Gwinn-Miedema. You played for FC Bayern Munich, just like Giulia did.

Today was the first day you would get back into Training with the Team and of course the Girls had asked if you two could bring Baby Gwinn-Miedema with you. They wanted to see their little niece again.

Of course you agreed. You were quite happy to bring her along for the ride. In a few weeks you would take on Arsenal in the Champions League. Arsenal also happened to be the Club your Sister in law Beth played at. So you were excited to see her. Even though you wouldn't be playing in that game. Your sister Viv had just left after coming to munich for a few days to meet her Baby Niece and so you could see your nephew Gideon again. Your sister and your Sister-in-law had him two years ago. Viv gave birth to him.

It was a good thing you could always asked Beth and Viv for advice when it came to raising Florence. Cause your daughter and your nephew were close enough in age.

"Babe?" You hear your wife say. She was walking into the bathroom with Flo in her arms.

"yes liefje?" You asked.

"are you ready to go?" she wanted to know.

"i am! Just had to get my contacts in!" You informed Giulia.

When you were about to leave the house Flo started crying. You frowned softly. Knowing that she probably was hungry.

"someone is hungry!" You stated and gently took her from Giulia. Sitting down on the Couch with her.

"i will Text the group Chat that we will be a bit late to practice." Giulia said, kissing your head and then your daughters.

You gently stroked her tiny fingers while she was nursing.

"you are making mommies be late to work! Good thing you are so adorable so i will let it slide!" You told her with a soft smile on your face. Giulia laughed at your little joke.

"she really is the cutest." Giulia admitted.

"our daughter can't even talk yet, and still has us wrapped around her little fingers already!" You replied with a laugh escaping your lips.

After Flo finished nursing and got burped you changed her diaper before the three of you finally left for practice. Giulia was driving.

"are you okay, Love?" She asked you cause she could tell that you started to get nervous again.

"i am just nervous. It's the first time in almost a year that i will be Training with the Team again! And not do light Training!" You explained to her.

"you gonna do just fine Babe!" Giulia told you. "You already are Superwoman for staying active while growing a tiny human! Which by the way you didn't have to do. Cause carrying a Baby is work enough, but you still decided to have your own workout plan!" She added on. You appreciated how proud she was of you.

"thanks for saying that. also liefje, we need to work on our time management because you know i hate being late. Even when the reason why is our really adorable Baby Girl!" You told her.

You reached the FC Bayern Campus around 30 minutes after practice started. So you quickly got dressed and went out to the pitch. Giulia was carrying Florence in her Baby carrier. Needless to say that practice was on hold when you arrived cause everyone wanted to hold your daughter. You apologized for being late again and for crashing practice but no one seemed to mind.

"she is such a doll!" Lea told you. Looking at her with a smile while Tuva was holding her.

"thanks Lea, took 9 months to Cook her to perfection!" You said jokingly. All of your anxiety gone now. It felt good to be back and not just visiting.

You enjoyed practice. It was an amazing feeling. Only having two take a longer break to nurse Flo again. Other then that everything was just fine. You enjoyed every single Minute of practice.

When it was time to leave, Flo was asleep in her Baby carrier and Giulia was carrying her back to the Car. This time you were the one driving Home.

"how are you feeling?" Giulia wanted to know.

"honestly? Great but i think we have so much to learn and figure out. Making sure we are amazing parents cause this Is what our daughter deserves. And being great at our Job! Cause that's what our Team deserves." You said. "How are you feeling?" You wanted to know.

"good, i agree with you though! We have alot to learn and figure out, but we have eachother and so many people that can help is with it! We got this! Figuring out how to put our daughter and our in Order!" She answered. Good thing you really weren't alone and had a few people to always ask for help. and the two of you had eachother.

[oysternymph]

Riddle x reader

‘Sickly studies’

Notes: Yuu is gender neutral and as such they/them pronouns are used, not beta read, fluff, slight angst, slightly ooc. Riddle has a fever in this fic, descriptions of sickness are limited and are not in detail but I still wanted to give a heads up for anyone that is sensitive to that particular subject. I wanted something a bit more platonic for Riddle, hence the romance isn’t as strong as in the Jade x reader fic, but I hope Riddle fans enjoy this nonetheless! Riddle was one of my reasons for looking more into TWST when I first heard about it, so it’s safe to say he means a lot to me. I hope you all enjoy!

Twst x reader masterpost

Wc: 1,584

Finals were coming up as was the end of Yuu’s first official year at Night Raven College. So much had happened in just that short span of time that it felt overwhelming to remember it all sometimes. What mattered was the present, the horrible overblots of the past were but a distant memory, not to mention no one had even overblotted since winter break! This had to be a new record!

What mattered most was receiving good grades on their finals, as the headmage promised to upgrade their phone plan from ninety minutes per month to unlimited if they received all A’s on their finals or in turn, made it within at least two of the top 50 test scores for finals. Which seemed highly unlikely considering mages such as Riddle and Azul attended the school. Plus NRC students were known to cheat on occasion, even if Yuu studied with all their might, they might get bumped down a few places because of a cheater.

As a result, Yuu had requested studying sessions with the top student in all of Night Raven College, Riddle Rosehearts. Despite being the smartest student, Riddle was rather helpful and never turned down a student who honestly wanted to improve their grades. Not only did he often tutor Deuce and Kalim, but he’d even study with students aiming to try and take over his rank as top student such as Azul. As such, when Yuu asked if Riddle would be willing to help, he agreed without hesitation.

Today was their third study session with the top student, they’d be focusing on the history of magic today and alchemy. While Yuu didn’t have any magic of their own, they were expected to remember alchemical formulas and ingredients regardless of their lack of ability to do anything with them. Seeing as Riddle had been such a big help already, Yuu decided to make him a dessert as a thank you for all the help. After attempting to read through the Heartslabyul rule book and only making it to rule two hundred and twenty eight ‘flowers in gardens must never be picked on Wednesdays’, you figured that you’d just avoid making a tart as to avoid the same mistake Ace made all those months ago.

Knowing Riddle affinity for anything strawberry, you decided on vanilla strawberry cupcakes, which while difficult to decorate, weren’t that hard to actually bake. With their cupcakes in tow and their book bag in another, Yuu set off to Heartslabyul and soon enough entered the labyrinth-like dorm. After what seemed like longer than usual, Yuu entered the lounge, not many students were taking up space there. Either due to them being busy studying in their rooms or at the library. The kitchen door opened a moment later as a familiar ginger man walked out, holding a cup of steaming tea.

“O.M.G! It’s been awhile since I’ve seen you around here! What brings you here? Your freshies are on flamingo duty today soooo…”

“I came to study with Riddle.”

At this statement, Cater makes a face, almost as if what the Ramshackle student said was most peculiar. Yuu half expected Cater to suddenly blurt out something along the lines of, ‘rule 637 states that students can’t study on Saturdays from 1 to three pm!’ But instead he merely sighs.

“Did he not tell you?”

“Tell me what? Is he busy?”

Cater shakes his head, a sigh escaping his thin lips a moment later.

“Riddle is like, sick. Like, really sick. He got a cold so he’s resting for the day. He really didn’t cancel on you?”

“No, I wouldn’t have come if I knew he was resting…”

Shortly before leaving to the hall of mirrors, Yuu had sent Riddle a quick text to make sure things were still on for today, in which Riddle liked the message before stating that he was still available to tutor Yuu. And yet according to Cater, he was rather sick.

“Well like since you’re already here…”

Cater motions for Yuu to hold out their hand, only for him to place the saucer and teacup into the prefects hand a moment later.

“You can cancel your study session and give him some tea! Well I’ll be seeing you!”

Soon enough the bouncy Heartslabyul student disappeared from their sight, leaving Yuu alone. With no other option they immediately headed to Riddle’s room, making their way to the door before making a soft knock on it. After a few seconds of silence, Yuu could hear a soft groan on the other side.

“…Come in…”

A weak voice called out, hoarse from coughing no doubt. As Yuu opened the door to Riddle’s room, she found him at his desk, a thick blanket draped over his shoulders, a small trash bag filled with used tissues, and a box of them on his desk. Despite his apparent cold he still had a textbook open on the desk, sniffling as he mumbled to himself.

“The best way to harvest mandrakes…ACHOO!”

He quickly grabbed a tissue and sneezed into that, blowing his nose a moment later and dropped the now used tissue into his bag full of them as Yuu walked over to his desk, placing the tea next to him. Slowly he turned to look up, staring at Yuu with a tired expression before his sleepy eyes widened, his nose red from his cold and all the blowing.

“Yuu! I’m sorry, I haven’t looked at the time in awhile I forgot…don’t worry, we can get to studying right away-”

He sucked in a heavy breath before turning away from the prefect, coughing hard into his elbow before turning back to them.

“I have masks if you’d feel more comfortable studying with a layer of protection or we may do a call…”

“Riddle, you need to rest. You look horrible…”

Instinctively, Yuu’s hand went towards the dorm leaders forehead, pressing against the soft skin and frowning at the red head.

“Riddle you’re burning up bad. You must have a fever. You really need to rest.”

He grunted softly, looking away with one of his hands clenched into a fist as his body shook lightly.

“I’m. Fine. Whatever I’m dealing with can be handled once finals are over.”

“Riddle…”

Moving their hand from his forehead, Yuu pulled the dorm leader into a sudden hug. Instantly he tensed up under their touch, though before Yuu could pull away, he slowly moved one hand to hold them back.

“…You’re going to catch whatever I have.”

“I don’t mind…Riddle. I know finals are important…”

“They’re the most important thing in my life as of this moment.”

“Your own health should come before any test.”

“I can’t fall behind, I can’t…”

Yuu tenderly pet the back of his hair as the dorm leader sniffled again, this time clearly in an attempt to hold back his tears as opposed to trying to provide relief to his nose.

“You won’t fall behind…You’ve been an excellent student since your start here. I’m sure the professors could make accommodations if you’re still sick. But you won’t be able to perform well if you’re sicker than a dog.”

“…Trey said the same thing…But I…If I don’t do well then what example does that set for my students? I’d be a failure!”

His voice kept getting quieter and quieter the longer he spoke, Yuu attempted to pull away briefly from the dorm leader in order to grab the tea so he could soothe his clearly raw throat, but seeing as Riddle clung tighter to them as they tried to pull away, it seemed it would be for the best if they stayed close to Riddle for now.

“…Riddle, you wouldn’t be a failure. You’re still human at the end of the day, you need to rest sometimes…I know it must be upsetting to get so sick right before finals, but you didn’t plan this. It just…happened. Life is cruel sometimes, but we still have a month to prepare. If you rest now then you should have more than enough time to study.”

“…What if I don’t?”

Riddle looked up from his friend's shoulder, tears beading at the corner of his eyes, clearly distraught just by the idea of missing valuable study time.

“…You will. I promise. And…until you're better, I’ll study for you, catch you up on any material you need help with. For now, you just need to focus on resting.”

“…Do you really think I’ll be better in time?”

“I’m sure of it.”

Slowly Yuu helps the dorm leader to stand, guiding him over to his large bed and helping him to settle down in it. They walk back to the desk and return with the tea.

Riddle takes a sip, humming at the warmth before he allows for the prefect to help him drink the rest of the cup.

“…Yuu?”

“Yes?”

“…Will you stay with me until I fall asleep?”

“Yeah, I can do that.”

Gently taking one of his hands into their own, Yuu stayed by Riddle’s bedside as he slowly drifted off, his expression slowly becoming more peaceful until it was completely gentle. They weren’t sure if he would be better in time, but bottom line he needed to rest. For now, Yuu would do the hard part for him while he recovered. In his sleep he’d occasionally squeeze their hand, the softest smile on his face as he allowed himself to rest. Just by that expression alone, Yuu had a feeling he’d be okay.

[maskedcrawford]

Code Red

G-Dragon x Reader

Summary: That time of the month comes and GD helps you through it.

Warnings: Mentions of blood. Nothing too bad but its there. GD being an absolute sweetheart<3

A/N: Thank you darlin' for the request! This was super cute and I hope it's what you wanted, if not feel free to let me know!

Masterlist

Requests: OPEN

“This should be the last box,” you say as you and Jiyong are now standing in the living room of his penthouse looking at the boxes of your things. Moving in with him was really exciting and when you had said yes to the idea, he couldn’t of been more enthused.

“Great, how about I make us some dinner and we’ll unpack some after we eat?”  He puts arm around your waist pulling you close.

“Sounds perfect.” You give him a chaste kiss before he walks off to the kitchen. You get a large comfy blanket out and snuggle up on the couch with it. You doze off for a short while and before you know Jiyong is gently shaking you, telling you to wake up.

“Hmm?” you focus your eyes on your boyfriend.

“Dinner’s ready, jagi,” he smiles. You nod your head, still a little fuzzy from sleep. He prepared your favorite dishes and brings out a bottle of champagne.

“To new roommates,” he winks as he fills up the glasses. You giggle and clink the glasses together.

“I love you,” he blurts and you feel a slight blush rush your cheeks.

“I love you, more,” you say before you both start to devour the meal on your plates. Turns out moving in can work up quite the appetite. After dinner you two begin to unpack your boxes. Jiyong takes some of your things to the new shared bedroom and as you grab a box off the floor you notice something red on the couch where you were sitting and your face goes pale.

“Oh no, no no no,” you drop the box as you whisper to yourself. You dash to the bathroom and just as you suspected, your monthly visitor had arrived. You sigh dramatically and search around the bathroom for pads or tampons. He didn’t have a single one. Your stomach twisted in knots. The back of your sweatpants is now stained with the same blood that was on the couch. You groan.

“Y/n?” you freeze and look at the door.

“Ye-yeah?” you call out trying to sound casual.

“Everything ok? You’ve been in there for a minute,” his voice is dripping with concern.

“I’m, uh, I’m,” you sigh.

“I need a tampon.” You say slightly embarrassed.

“Oh, ok. I can run out and get some,”

“No I have some in my bag. And Ji?” you call out.

“Yeah?”

“Can you grab me another pair of sweatpants?” your voice is sheepish and he tilts his head at the door.

“Sure, give me a second,” he makes his way to the kitchen to grab your bag and get your product. As he checks the boxes to find your pants he notices the red stain on the couch. He quietly grabs some cleaner and scrubs the area cleaning effectively taking out the blood. He gets your pants and brings you what you need.

“Can I come in,” he asks as he knocks on the door.

“Yeah,” you were standing there waiting for him. You take a few minutes to get yourself cleaned up and when you come out he’s gone. You check your phone for a text.

Be back soon babe.

You furrow your brows but quickly shrug as you grab a few things from your toiletries box and put them in the bathroom. As you walk out you remember the spot on the couch and grab some cleaning supplies only to find it was gone. You face flushes a little and you can’t help but smile to yourself. You really do have the best boyfriend. Just then you hear the door open and shut behind him. You take the cleaning products to the kitchen and see Jiyong with a couple of bags.

“What’s all that?” He gives you a grin and pulls out your favorite candy, a new stuffed animal, some medication, and a heating pad.

“I thought these might help.” He says shyly and you smile down at the floor for a moment.

“Come on, let’s go lay in bed,” he grabs the stuff he bought and takes you to your new room.

“Wait, hold on,” he says dramatically earning a confused look from you.

“We must do this right,” he gives you a cheeky grin as he sets the bag on the table in his room, you stand right outside the door way.

“What do you mean?” He comes by your side and puts his arms under your back and the backs of your legs, picking you up bridal style.

“Ji,” you giggle. He carries you over the threshold and sets you on the bed gently, giving you soft sweet kiss.

“I’m pretty sure that’s only for when you’re married.” You smirk.

“Then we’ll call that practice,” he winks and you blush as you get underneath the covers. He grabs the heating pad and candy and lays beside you.

“Thanks for cleaning up,” you mumble as he turns on your favorite movie, Rapunzel. He scoots his body next yours, snuggling up into. You stroke his hair.

“Anything for my lady,” he says as he places a delicate kiss on your stomach before laying the heating pad over you stomach.  

If you enjoyed and would like to support me, buy me a coffee

[wardenparker]

The Unbearable Weight of Perfection, ch 3

Javi Gutierrez x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

When an accident of fate throws Javi G into the path of his soulmate, his instinct is to dive in head first. Adjusting to life as the fated partner of someone you barely know is going to be harder than either of you suspect, but anything worth having is worth working for. Isn't it?

(This story is heavily inspired by the lovely house museums that I work in every day and the fantastic few months that HBO was using our houses to film a TV show in fall! I spent each day on that set in wonder and I can't wait to share the experience with all of you through this story.)

Rating: M for Mature but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 7.6k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this story include: Cursing, alcohol, food, references to abusive family members -- i.e. Lucas.* Shitty family, amazing found family, new friends, supportive friends, Nick Fuckiiiiiiiiiiiin Cage, wedding fluff. Summary: It's time to get married! And that reality is so much sweeter than you ever could have anticipated. Notes: I just...really really love weddings, guys. You all know that by now 🧡🧡 This week, please enjoy a gorgeous view of the Breakers from the ocean!

Friday, April 4, 2025 T-Minus One Hour Until the Wedding

Javi had helped you tote everything back inside Hazelwood House. It's unbelievable that you're actually allowed to be sitting in the room reserved for brides preparing for their special days. It's just one of the house's guest bedrooms but it is outfitted with plenty of non-historical seating and a large vanity for sitting at to do hair and makeup.

Moira had rushed home to change into her favorite purple off-the-shoulder dress and sparkling ballet flats and now the two of you are doing your hair and makeup at that vanity that normally you only see pictures of on the museum's social media accounts afterward.

“Knock, knock.” There’s a polite tap at the door and then two women with huge rolling bags come in. “Hi! I’m Tracy and this is Tandy. We are hair and make-up, so we thought we could come give you a hand? If you want?”

"Oh!" You almost jump even at the gentle intrusion. "Oh my god, really? I—" You glance at Moira but she's already glowing. "I mean, yeah, absolutely. That would be incredible

They both squeal in excitement and come wheeling into the room, careful to close the door behind them. “I looooove soulmate weddings!” Tandy gushes, an exact copy of her twin sister except she has a star tattoo behind her right ear that is visible with her hair put up.

"And this one is going to be gorgeous." Moira declares, practically giggling as she shifts away from the mirror to let you sit directly in front of the vanity.

You are sitting in a dressing gown, which is perfect. Tandy smiles as she stops behind you and examines your hair. “Do you have any ideas for your hair?” She asks.

"Um...Javi picked out a hairpiece," you tell her, severely downplaying the fact that your soulmate chose a literal tiara for you to wear. Instead, you simply take out the box that Cindy had packed it in and open the lid to show the other women.

“Oh my Godddddddddd!” The screeches from all the women are ones of pure joy. Every woman loves a tiara, even if they didn’t want to wear one. And this one is gorgeous.

"The whole look together is fairly spectacular," you admit, your warm cheeks and sheepish expression making you look all the more excited – because you are.

“So obviously, the tiara is the star of the show?” If the headpiece is this beautiful, the dress must be breathtaking. “What about a sleek style that weaves the tiara into your hair?”

"I defer to your expertise," you tell Tandy honestly. Normally you don't do too much to your hair besides take care of it and put it into the same simple style every day. "I just want to look like myself when all is said and done. I guess...today really is the best version of myself I could hope for."

“Natural.” Tracy smile as she moves over to Moira. “I believe in just enhancing your beautiful features with make up.” She promises before she looks at your maid of honor. “May I work on you, gorgeous? You have such beautiful eyes.”

“I guess the look we’re going for is natural.” Moira grins at you and looks back at Tracy. “I do…have a favorite lipstick, though.”

“Oh yeah.” You light up and start nodding. “Clinique Pink Honey. Makes her look like a movie star.” At that, you and your best friend both laugh. “I mean…I guess she’ll just fit in perfectly with the crowd that way.”

“Don’t be too intimidated.” Tandy tells you. “All of them are just as normal as you and me. They just have higher profile jobs.”

"I don't think it's a matter of being intimidated." Which is not what you expected to feel, all things considered. You would have expected that you would feel that way. Maybe it just hasn't really hit you yet. "I'm mostly just surprised."

“It has to be a shock.” Tracy agrees as she starts to pull palettes of colors out of her unzipped bag. Trays and trays of makeup, all nearly organized. “Just suddenly discovering your soulmate by chance.”

"It's a beautiful surprise, but it was definitely a surprise." You and Moria sit up straight in your chairs to let the twins artists set to work. "It's not like I've been checking Mate Marks for matches or anything, ya know? It just...happened."

“Do you know why he wasn’t on Mate Marks?” She asks curiously, pondering over that. She’s never assumed a screenwriter would need anonymity.

"Some people aren't." You shrug slightly, realizing you never even thought to ask. "Some people want to find their soulmate naturally. Out in the wild, if you will."

“Either way, you have found each other and now you are getting married.” She hums. “And it will be beautiful.”

"He's beautiful." A fact which has you practically giggling. "It's been such a whirlwind."

“He is very attractive.” Tandy admits with a smile. “His accent.”

"Is to die for." Another round of giggles ripple through you, and you stand by your opinion wholeheartedly. "I will very happily listen to anything he has to say."

“And he’s so clever.” She adds. “The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent is one of my favorite movies. It the reason I wanted to work on this movie so badly.”

“That was one of his?” Moira’s eyes widen.

“Yep.” The pride on your face is unmistakable. The universe gave you a soulmate you can be truly proud of and you don’t mind having those bragging rights at all. “That was his first movie.”

“What a way to break into Hollywood, huh?” Tandy snorts. “That movie was like number one at the box office for months.”

"It was incredible." Tracy agrees with an air of absolutism. "His characters are gorgeously complex."

“So this is going to be incredible.” Moira hum. “You are marrying a genius.”

"I love that way of thinking about it," you agree with the broadest grin.

Everyone continues to work and giggle, passing snippets of information. The twins efficient and chatty at the same time.

“What do you think of this?” Tracy asks Moira. “Or do you want a little more dramatic touch? Even though it looks dark in person, a heavily coat photographs better.”

"My best friend's wedding?" Moira glances over at you and you grin at her in the mirror. "I think it calls for a touch of drama, don't you?"

“Definitely.” Tandy hums in agreement. “You won’t look like some old matriarch who’s still got her foundation on from 1920, but you’ll look amazing.”

The laughter that comment earns is loud and genuine, so much so that you almost don't hear your phone ringing in the pocket of your robe. When the most important people in your life are all already in this building, you frown slightly – but it's your father's cell phone that pops up on your caller ID. Moira's jaw drops open, but you shake your head at her concern. "I called him from the boutique before we came back, and left him a voicemail. I figured they should at least know."

After all, they're still your family. Which is why you pick up now instead of sending the call to voicemail like you might have otherwise. "Hi Dad."

“Surprised to get your message.” He doesn’t greet you, ask you how you are. It’s just not the way your father does things. Straight to the point and often unavailable, that’s him. “You need money?”

"No, Dad, I don't need money." You roll your eyes at Moira and smother a sigh. "And I'm well, thank you. I only wanted to let you and Mom know that I'm getting married tonight."

"Married?" His voice is shocked, astounded actually, and he clears his throat. "This is a prank, right?" He huffs. "Like that time you said you were going to go to art school?"

Controlling your breathing is a feat of fucking strength right now, but you aren’t going to spoil the night with another argument about how you had to withdraw your acceptance at Parsons because your mother refused to release the small amount of money they had allotted for your education if you threw it away, in her words. “This is not a prank,” you inform your father coolly. “I met my soulmate and we’re getting married. I just thought it was appropriate to let you know.”

He sputters for a moment. "Soulmate? Who is this soulmate?" He sighs and you can imagine that he is rubbing his eyes right now in that condescending manner to was meant to convey frustration and disappointment at whoever he is dealing with. "Please don't tell me that you just met this man?"

“I met him two years ago.” Technically true. “And I didn’t call to ask for permission. Or to ask for anything at all. This is merely information.” Fucking hell, you can’t wait to change your name.

"You planned a wedding without inviting us." He huffs sounding hurt for a moment and then there's the shuffling the phone and he murmurs something that you can't make out. Having a conversation with someone in the background that takes precedence over your call. The shuffling stops and he comes back on the line. "Well, you let us know. We'll send a card." With that, he hangs up the phone.

“And that is why I wouldn’t have told you anyway.” You huff at the phone, tossing it onto the vanity in a flourish of annoyance. “Well, I told them. That’s all they’re entitled to anyway.”

Moira sighs, very familiar with the disappointment that flashes in your eyes and is quickly suppressed. After all the hurt, all the chances you’ve given them, you try to pretend you don’t want the Hallmark happy family you watch on tv. “Some people don’t deserve to be parents.” She reminds you. “You have me and your other friends.” She waves her hand dismissively to make you laugh because she always tells you that she’s the only friend you really need. “And now you have him. Your soulmate.”

“Well…” Sitting back and letting your eyes shut temporarily, you reach over and give Moira’s hand a squeeze. “At least my kids will never have to quiet about being treated equally. No Golden Children in my house. No favorites. Ever.”

“None.” She promises and gives a little laugh. “Black sheep, all of them.”

“Loved no matter who they are.” You insist. That’s the key.

“Babe, you were born to be the best mother.” She agrees. “You will love every quirk and passion they have.”

“Yes. Yes I absolutely will.” There are so many wrongs of your own childhood that you will right with your own children, but the first step to getting there is getting married tonight.

“Now, forget about them.” She could possibly be talking about a bug or some gum on her shoe rather than your parents. She knows if she ever had the misfortune of meeting Cruella de Vil and her husband, she will be giving them the ass chewing of a lifetime.

"You're right." There is no reason to ruin your special night thinking about your awful family, and you're not going to let it happen. "You're absolutely right. Now." You relax back in your seat as Tracy and Tandy switch places. Your tiara is secured into place and it's starting to feel real all over again. "Moira, my love. As maid of honor I think it's wedding law that you have to take somebody home tonight.

“Yes please.” She immediately agrees with a wicked grin. “I’ll take both Jason Grant and Alex Powell home.”

"Somehow I think Alex Powell needs to be the center of attention at all times," you hum, smirking slightly. "Not that I dislike him. He's actually been really nice. But you've had that crush on Jason Grant for ages now."

“He’s hotttttt.” She huffs, slightly embarrassed about it but she can’t help but preen. “Did you see that ass? You could bounce a quarter off it.”

"I'm not saying you're wrong." Laughing right along with Tracy and Tandy, all four of you end up in a giggle fit. "I'm just saying...he's here now. You could actually talk to him. Get to know him. Even make a move?"

“Like he would want me.” She snorts, giving you a horrified look. “And I’m not lucky enough that my soulmate is a hot actor.” She rolls her eyes. “I’m gonna get some fucking CPA.”

"Six hours ago, if you had told me Javi was my soulmate, I would have laughed at you." In fact, you're pretty sure she might have suggested it once and you did laugh. "You never know. That's all I'm saying."

Rolling her eyes, she blows a raspberry. “Now you’re all ‘the sky is blue and the birds are singing.’ She teases. “It must be love.”

"Maybe." The grin on your face grows quickly into something wide and unapologetic. "Maybe it is."

****** Nerves has Javi nearly jittery at the flower covered arched trellis that leads to the informal gardens. That is where your boss said that you had always gotten dreamy eyed when you saw wedding set ups so that’s where she had decided to set up.

“You doin’ okay, Jav?” Nick chuckled under his breath, already knowing the answer as he waits beside his friend in front of the small group of assembled guests.

“Tell me I’m not dreaming.” Javi turns towards Nick with a plea in his eyes. “We aren’t drunk in my pool, plotting and laughing. I’m here. I’m in this moment and I’m marrying my soulmate.”

Nick laughs the way only Nick can, because it is full of boundless affection for his tenderhearted friend. "No, buddy." He assured Javi, shaking his head. "You're not dreaming. This is your fairy tale."

He shivers, his face alight with pure joy and his eyes sparkle. “Do I look okay?” He asks, knowing he looks good, but wanting the reassurance. “Thank you for remembering a belt. It matches the shoes too.” He adds, looking down at his loafers proudly.

“You look fantastic.” Nick assures him. One comforting hand on his shoulder squeezes tightly and Nick’s eyes wander momentarily to where Olivia is sitting with Addy in the front row usually reserved for family. Because they are Javi’s family. Javi is the closest thing to a brother Nick has ever had and he understands the sheer joy of finding your soulmate. Of course he wants that for his brother.

“Have I showed you the ring?” He has, but he’s already pulling it out of his pocket again. Partly to reassure himself that it hasn’t disappeared in the forty-five seconds since he had tapped the pocket to make sure that it’s there.

“It’s beautiful, Jav.” Nick knows he’s proud, and is about to nudge him a little about starting work back up on the house when the music starts.

“Oh god, it’s time.” Javi is shaking as he shoves the ring box back in his jacket and straightens his shoulders. Immediately hearing the commanding voice of his father as he scolds him to stop slouching and look proud. He is a Gutierrez.

You can tell that Moira picked out the music as soon as you step out of the house. I Can’t Help Falling in Love With You pours through the speakers hidden throughout the garden, and your best friend grins at you as she takes her place ahead of you to walk down the aisle.

Of course Nick starts to hum along with the song. One of his earlier movies was playing Elvis and he’s been obsessed ever since. Like Javi had been obsessed with Nick. Javi swallows and shuffles as he sees your friend, itching to get a view of his bride.

With a nod from you, Jason slides into place beside Moira to escort her down the aisle after passing off two beautiful bouquets of fresh and vibrant Gerbera daisies. For Moira the bouquet is petite and playful, for you it is big and bold and beautiful. They're so momentarily distracting that you almost miss the soft, affectionate expression on Alex's face as he steps up next to you.

“You make a beautiful bride.” He has intuition about people, reading them easily. He knows that you and he will be good friends. He’s a serial flirt, a little bit of a playboy, but he’s also a very loyal friend. His suit is immaculate and he offers you his arm proudly. “May I have the honor of escorting you to your soulmate?” He asks seriously, even as he smiles that blinding white toothed smile that melts hearts and panties.

“As a matter of fact?” You take his proffered arm with ease. “I insist upon it.”

“You insist.” He peps up even more at that and rolls his shoulders back to straighten up taller. His hand covers yours protectively. “He’s waiting impatiently, so let’s not keep him waiting longer than he has to.”

Moira and Jason make their way down the aisle and the actor deposits her opposite Javi and melts into the crowd of secondary cast and production crew that have all obviously changed into whatever nice they had on hand and are all sitting happily as if they have known you forever.

The music changes as you and Alex step up to the end of the path that will take you up to Javi. It's surreal in a way you'll never quite be able to describe. From Elvis to Etta James, the music now proclaims that you have found each other as you make your way toward your soulmate under the watchful, joyful eyes of assembled friends. Some are old, some are new, but all of them are watching as Alex brings you up to Javi at the end of the aisle and sets your hands into your soulmate's.

“Hi.” He gushes, eyes wide and glassy with unshed tears as his smile lights up his entire being. “You look…una diosa, mi diosa.” He murmurs, tongue tied for a moment. “My goddess.”

"Hi." If you were breathless with excitement before, it is doubled now. "How did you get even more handsome since I left you an hour ago?"

“I changed.” He jokes, making Nick chuckle beside him.

One simple moment of laughter eases some of the nerves that have been holding you tight in your grasp, and you squeeze Javi's hands in yours as Tamara gently clears her throat to get everyone's attention.

“We are gathered here tonight to unite these soulmates in a blessed union.” She smiles as she addresses the crowd.

Tamara’s speech is short and witty, as charming and silly as she is with a reverence for the romance of the moment. If you manage to remember to ask her for a copy of it later — if she even has it written down — you’ll add it to a photo album of beautiful snapshots of tonight.

Javi is practically shaking in excitement and turns towards you as he holds both of your hands. “Ready?” He asks.

“Ready.” And if you make it through your vows without crying, it will be a miracle.

“You are beautiful.” He whispers with a shy smile before he has to look back at Tamara again and nod for her to proceed. “We are ready.”

“For these two soulmates.” Tamara beams, smiling at you and Javi and then out at the crowd. “Love swept in like a fairy tale. A fairy tale that began right here at Hazelwood House with their first meeting and will continue for many endless years to come. As bold and unique as they place they first met, these two soulmates have the potential for an adventurous and boundless life of joy ahead.” There is no questioning, in her mind, how absolutely true that is, and she smiles again. “It doesn’t take more than a few minutes in their presence to know that this is the kind of love that makes the rest of us believe in the true power of soulmates.”

Javi shivers at her eloquent words. He hopes beyond hope that this is that kind of love. Nick reaches out and clasps a hand on his shoulder in steady support. Smiling into your eyes, he feels like he is staring into your soul. His soul.

"Javier." Tamara smiles encouragingly. "We'll have you start the vows."

Javi takes a deep breath, making you smile and giggle slightly. It’s not a heavy sound, it’s nervous. Murmuring your name is accompanied by stroking the back of your hand with his thumbs. “From the moment I saw you, I was drawn to you. To your beauty, your kindness. That sweet smile.” He tells you. “I had to talk myself out of coming back every day for a week so you did not think I was a creep.”

That draws a sweet laugh from the crowd and another giggle from you, but you squeeze his hands back affectionately. "I looked for you," you admit, not minding interrupting him to say so. "Every single day."

“You did?” He perks up even more, happy that you seem just as enchanted with him as he is with you. “That’s good. And I thought of you. At random times, I could not get you out of my mind.”

"Neither could I." A fact which makes tonight so much sweeter. But you'll have your turn to make your vows to him in a moment. This is Javi's time.

“Every time I saw you after that, I became more ravenous for time with you. Hating to leave your side and now, I do not have to.”

An audible aww! comes from the crowd, and you break out into another wide grin when you recognize Tandy's voice. The twins, it seems, are just as involved in this love story as the rest of the cast and crew became today.

Javi glances at the crowd and then right back to you. “I want to be a good soulmate. A good husband.” He vows. “To make you feel special and appreciated every day.”

Tamara nods for you to go next, clearly smothering a watery smile at her microphone.

"Javi, I..." You have to remember to breathe so that you don't cry, but your eyes are watering with happiness before you even begin. "I still feel like I'm dreaming," you admit, and laugh softly when a ripple of coos and chuckles wash through your assembled friends. You're so glad that you talked through what you wanted to say to him with Moira before coming down from your dressing room. "I feel like I must have dreamt you up in a bedtime story that I told myself years ago and brought you to life through wishing. I can't wait to learn with you, and grow with you, and build our future together."

Javi can’t help himself. Lunging forward, he presses his lips quickly to yours before he is pulling away with an embarrassed chuckle. “Sorry.”

A ripple of affectionate laughter rolls through the crowd and Tamara’s smile grows wider and softer in response. “Let’s get those rings,” she says, looking to his best man and your maid of honor.

“Rings…..rings.” There’s a moment of pure panic on Javi’s face as he blanks out for a split second on where he put them. Nick steps forward quickly before he can freak out. “Jacket pocket, buddy.” He whispers in Javi’s ear and steps back just as quickly.

Moira has Javi’s wedding band for safe keeping, and she passes it to you along with a lovingly weepy hug. Your best friend has always been a softie, after all.

“Here it is.” Javi pulls out your ring with a flourish. Smiling happily as he stares at it for a moment.

"We exchange rings," Tamara goes on, starting to get a bit choked up. "As a symbol of everlasting love. Once it exists, it never ends, and to have a physical reminder of that love each day can be as soothing for the soul as anything else in the world."

Oh yeah, she is absolutely about to cry, you think but you really can't blame her. You're there yourself.

"Javi, repeat after me as you present your soulmate with her ring." It's so very simple but so beautifully felt. "I present you with this token of my love and devotion. A symbol of our partnership for life." And then, of course, the traditional icing on the cake. "With this ring, I thee wed."

Javi holds your left hand as if it were made of glass and has the ring ready to slip onto your finger. “I present you with this token of my love and devotion.” He says clearly. “A symbol of our partnership for life. With this ring, I thee wed.”

Even though you just bought the beautiful platinum band three hours ago, it still feels like magic when it slips onto your finger perfectly. It doesn’t feel real. Like anything this perfect has to be a dream.

Your fingers grip his tightly for a moment and you blow out a shaky breath before repeating the vow under Tamara’s direction. “I present you with this token of my love and devotion.” The beautiful band you hold at his finger slides on so easily. “A symbol of our partnership for life. With this ring, I thee wed.”

“It fits.” He huffs out happily, like he didn’t just try it on hours ago. He had already shifted his pinky ring to his right hand, wanting his wedding ring to be the only ring on this hand. “I will never take it with the intention of putting our vows aside.” He vows seriously. He will have to remove it at times, but it would never be removed for any nefarious reasons, that he can promise.

“I can promise you the same.” There are a hell of a lot of people in this world who couldn’t — or wouldn’t — say the same and you won’t be one of them. Not when it feels like you’ve been searching for him your entire life.

“Do you take each other,” Tamara definitely sniffles this time. She can’t help it. “To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for better or worse, for the rest of your lives to come?”

“I do.” Javi’s words are clear, direct. Meant with every fiber of his being. He nods and smiles. “I do.”

“I do.” Your heart pounds with it and sings its tune.

“Then,” Tamara beams, sounding almost as excited as you and Javi. “By the power vested in me by the state of California, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

“It’s allowed this time.” Nick chuckles and that makes Javi start to laugh, pulling you close and dipping you down as he presses his lips to yours like it’s the most romantic of romance movies.

The whirlwind moments that follow – running up the aisle together and back into the house, wrapping your arms around each other in the Great Hall after you've practically scampered through the open doors that let the warm, evening air into the house. There is a table waiting nearby with the paperwork to make your marriage official nearby, and the cameraman that is filming the wedding has followed at a respectful distance to capture the utter joy that is you and Javi kissing each other silly as you wait for your witnesses to join you inside.

“We are married!” He can’t believe it, even as he signs his name. “My middle name is Mateo.” He realizes that he’s never told you that. There’s so much for the two of you to learn about each other. He signs his complete name to the form and smiles up at you.

You tell him your middle name, too. The small things stack up on top of each other as you begin this crazy journey together. Including the second form that Tamara hands you, because Moira told her to make sure there was a copy. It is the form to file for changing your name now that you are married, and you nearly bite your lip as you start to fill it out. "I've...always figured I would take my husband's name," you tell him nervously. Wondering why the hell you're nervous. "Is that okay with you?"

Javi nods eagerly. “Perfect.” He agrees, knowing that the rest of his family legacy might be shameful, but this family he is starting with you will not be. “I— I would love for you to have my last name. Our family name.”

"Our family." You like the sound of that very, very much. It's so much better thinking of the family you'll make together than the one that has never even tried to understand you.

“Our family.” Both of you seem to melt at the idea. Unable to stop simpering as you close the gap between you and kiss again. Aware that you are being a little dramatic, Javi doesn’t even care.

Your friends let you indulge – it's your wedding day after all – but in these first few moments of wedding bliss, you barely have any concept of who is in the room with you. Moira is there, chatting with Tamara, and Javi's best man is interjecting in the conversation as well. It's all a whirl of joy that swirls around you until you finally tune into the conversation a few feet away.

"Um...sweetheart?" You pull back with confusion on your face, looking at Javi with furrowed eyebrows. "Is your best man Nick Fucking Cage?"

Javi looks at you in an equally confused fashion. “Um….yes?” He answers, tilting his head as he hears Nick laugh and starts to smile, looking back at him and then towards you. “You didn’t notice him before now? I called him with you in the car. He brought me my suit.” He reminds you.

"You called your best friend Nick in the car and...you told me separately about having Nick Cage come to your birthday party." Now you're laughing as you see that it should have been obvious. "I just...I didn't put the pieces together! And I was not paying attention to anyone but you just now."

“I see.” He chuckles with you and leans into kiss you. Turning, he guides you over to where Nick is talking with an obviously star-struck Moira. “Nick.” He hums happily. “I’d like to formally introduce you to my wife.” He grins, remembering how shocked Nick had been when he had facilitated his reunion with his own soulmate a few years ago. “Sweetheart, Nick Cage.”

"Hi Nick." In this moment you barely know what to do besides shake his hand, but this is your brand new husband's best friend, so when you end up hugging him it shouldn't really be a surprise.

“Nice to meet you.” Nick replies with a smooth smile and a sparkle to his eyes when he draws back and his own soulmate joins him at his side. “Honest to god, I’m glad to meet you.”

"Considering the circumstances?" You glance over at Javi and beam. "I'm very glad to be met." A shared laugh ripples through the group. "And obviously I'm very glad to meet both of you, too."

“Olivia.” Nick’s wife offers, reaching up and brushing his lapel lovingly. “It was a beautiful ceremony and it reminded me of our own wedding vows.”

"i am really looking forward to getting to know both of you." If you had been told yesterday that this conversation would be happening ever in your life, you would have called bullshit. But here you are, and you're beckoning Moira over to your side in the process. "Moira Whitney. My best friend in the entire world and an absolute angel of a human."

“Hi again.” Moira smiles, almost shyly but she’s still a little awestruck that she had a conversation with Nick Cage about your wedding.

"Why don't we go grab a drink?" Olivia suggests, knowing things like photos have to happen and the other guests will be filing up onto the terrace for cocktail hour.

“Absolutely.” She beams at how nice she is and nods before she looks at you. “Love birds? Would you like a drink?”

"Don't you worry about that." Scott appears with the camera man and your official wedding photographer, as well as Leslie. Your boss a tray of crystal-clear blue and bubbling glasses ready to go. "The caterers had a suggestion for a signature cocktail and I thought you'd like it," she confesses. "They're usually called Tiffany Mimosas, but for tonight, they're called The Something Blue."

Javi can see that you are absolutely over the moon at the idea. Melting and cooing at the light blue drinks. "Something blue?" He asks, tilting his head. "Right. The things a bride needs."

"She's also a sucker for anything Tiffany-themed." Moira tells him with a sly grin. "We threw her a Tiffany tea party for her birthday last year. Not like anything there was Tiffany at all, but we watched Breakfast at Tiffany's and had blue everything and everybody dressed up."

"Tiffany's." He nods seriously, making a note of the famous jeweler.

"Javi, that isn't necessary." You insist, knowing your best friend has just given him a lifetime of ideas. "Let's go and take photos, shall we?"

"Photos." Temporarily distracted, he pulls you close and hums as he presses his lips to yours. "You look so beautiful, you must have all the photos taken of you. To remember tonight. This moment."

"Where would you like to take them?" Leslie asks. An indulgent smile lights up her face that only grows wider when you light up. "Anywhere in the house. I know you both must have favorite rooms."

“The green marble room.” Javi immediately answers. “Where we met.”

"The billiard room. Absolutely." It's a perfect choice, of course, and a romantic one to boot.

"And the library?" Leslie asks, grinning. She knows it's your other favorite part of the house.

"And the cliffs?" Javi turns towards you to see what you think. "Unless you don't want to risk your dress?"

"Why not the bench?" You suggest, remembering that second day you met him with such affection. "We can take some photos out at the bench with the cliffs and the ocean in the background."

"Yes." He lights up. "I would love that." He smiles. "I wanted to ask you to dinner that day. At the bench."

"What stopped you?" The whole group of you start to move over to the billiard room together, and you hold Javi's hand with intertwined fingers as you go.

"I lost my nerve." He admits sheepishly, blushing slightly. "I did not think that you would accept."

It doesn't bear pointing out that you absolutely would have accepted, or that you might have known you were soulmates much sooner if he had gone out onto that limb. There is no use dwelling on what might have been when what lies ahead of you is so bright. "Well," you hum, tapping your sparkling champagne glass against his. "We will have a lifetime of dinners ahead of us."

“Yes.” He chuckles and takes a sip of his champagne. “Dinners and breakfasts. Movie nights. Even premiers.”

"It's all very Disney to me," you admit, and smile when he gives you a slightly confused look. "It's a whole new world."

“Ariel? No, no that is Jasmine.” He corrects himself quickly. “Aladdin.” It has been a long time since he’s seen the movie, but he’s proud of being able to recall it. “You like Disney?”

“Love it.” You’re practically floating at his side as you walk, just talking and holding his hand as you go. “I grew up on Disney and it always just stuck with me.”

“Then why don’t we go tomorrow?” He asks, smiling softly. “Spend our honeymoon at Disneyland? I have never been to one.”

“You wouldn’t think that was silly?” It sounds sweet and fun to you, but you wouldn’t do just about anything with him and it would seem perfect right now.

“No, I don’t think that there is anything I could do with you that would seem silly.” He admits with a small smile.

“Maybe we’ll collect ideas all through the night and decide tomorrow?” You feel positively light about the whole thing, not worrying about the logistics of anything for this night. Just wanting to bask in the glow of being a newlywed. At being with your soulmate.

“Perfect” Javi glows under the knowledge that you just want to be with him. That anything and everything is on the table. “Pictures, sí? For our children? When they ask how we met and married?”

"We will have more pictures than they can stand," you predict. Happily setting your glass down so that the photographer can shuttle you into whatever pose he sees fit.

******

Craft services pulled out every trick up their sleeves. Javi can’t believe all the finger foods and little bites they managed to prepare. And someone had managed to go out and get cases of champagne. He presses another glass into your hand as you are animatedly chatting to Olivia and Nick, wrapping his arm around your waist and pressing his lips to your pulse. “Wife.” He murmurs, inhaling the intoxicating scent of your perfume.

Married is your favourite word right now, and it's no surprise to you that Javi's seems to be wife. "Thank you. husband," you beam at him. Your cheeks are aching from smiling so much tonight. "Olivia and Nick were just inviting us to dinner next week. Dinner and a movie?" Apparently it is a Cage family tradition to do once during the week, and Javi was usually included in that, too. It seemed to make sense that you should start to join them as well.

“Would you mind?” He asks, looking ecstatic that you are considering it. “Nick’s library has grown tremendously over the years and now he will even watch his own movies with us and give us the behind the scenes commentary. Those nights are especially fun.”

"I would love to." If it were nothing more than an invitation from some nice, new friends, you would already be excited to accept. But that these are Javi's best friends? It turns the whole thing around and makes it probably the most important invitation you'll get all night. "But I insist on helping with dinner somehow. It's the least I can do."

“Oh, we normally order in.” Olivia tells you with a grin. “But if you want to help me come up with some themed menus for movies, that could be a lot of fun.”

“Absolutely.” Your eyes light up in delight all over again. These are definitely your kind of people. “I love a themed dinner.”

“Oh shit.” Nick huffs, although there’s an indulgent smile on his face. She has been hinting about wanting to do this for some time and she’s found a partner in crime.

"Your soulmate and I are turning out to have lots in common, Javi." Olivia tells him, enjoying Nick's near-exasperation that she has finally found someone to indulge in these ideas with.

"Oh...hardly." You shake your head and wave off that idea. "You have had an entire career with fashion, Olivia. I have a passing interest."

“Well, passing interest is still interest.” She hums. “And we can make sure that we get some fabulous designers to dress you for red carpet events. Sherry was telling me that Javi needs to attend these things.”

"You...would want me to go with you?" Somehow that thought hadn't yet occurred to you, and your eyebrows raise practically to your hairline in surprise when you look up at your husband.

Javi’s face immediately twists into something that could only be described as a pout. “You would not want to go?” He understands that it might not be your favorite activity, you might normally be more introverted than your job allows you to be when giving tours, but he had hoped to share this with you. He would want his soulmate by his side for everything, good and bad. Sharing the successes and lamenting failures.

"No, I would love to go." He looks so much like a puppy when he pouts like that, it might really be the sweetest thing in the world even though you never want him to be sad. It means you have your arms around his waist in less than a second to reassure him. "It never occurred to me that you would bring me with you. It just....hadn't dawned on me yet."

“You are my wife.” He huffs, almost insulted but placated by the notion you just hadn’t thought of it yet. “My soulmate. I want to have you with me for everything.”

"Then I'll be there for everything." Everything is suddenly a much larger notion to you, but it's still amorphous enough not to be daunting. The most important piece of it is him, after all. "Cross my heart."

“And I want to be there for you.” He promises, leaning in to kiss you passionately. Unable to believe he can do that whenever he wants now. “For everything.”

"I don't think," you giggle softly when he finally pulls back and you remember how to breathe again. "That the museum is going to have anything as big or flashy as a red carpet for you to fuss over."

“Then we should have the red carpet event here.” Javi suggests, lighting up at the idea.

"Oookay buddy." Nick chuckles, clapping Javi on one shoulder. "We don't have to plan another party all in one night, right?"

“Sorry.” He chuckles self-consciously as he shoots you a grin. “We should focus on our wedding before anything else.”

"There's no harm in being excited about the future." Though you see from Nick's handling of it and Javi's sheepish reaction that this may be a recurring reaction from your soulmate. He gets very excited about things and maybe gets carried away.

“See?” Javi grins at Nick, making the other man roll his eyes. “My soulmate likes it.” Nick had oftentimes teased Javi that his soulmate would have to be of the opposite disposition to put up with his somewhat free and spontaneous nature.

"I think getting excited for things is well worth it," you admit. "Maybe because there hasn't been too much to get excited about before, who knows. But a book release is the event of the year for me, usually."

“Book releases are important.” Javi agrees sagely. You must have a nice collection of books and it makes him wish he still had the library in Mallorca. You would have loved it.

"You really are my soulmate," you hum, delighted to hear that he likes to read as well.

“Is there any doubt?” He asks playfully and hums as he pulls you closer. “Should we dance? You look like you should dance.”

"We should definitely dance." It is the easiest thing in the world to be drawn away by him, and you won't apologize for the way it makes your heart take wing in your chest. Tonight really is just a perfect dream and he keeps making it better.

He knows the cameraman is still walking around, filming. Parts of this day will end up being in the bonus scenes and he really doesn’t mind. Sweeping you out to the dance floor, he agrees that your dress is perfect without the train. “Have we missed anything you wanted today?”

"Everything has been perfect." Even the sting of not having your family care about tonight has been soothed away by the appearance of this new family knitting together around you, and you hold him as happily close as possible as you move around the ballroom with him. "What about you? What else would make tonight perfect?"

“I cannot think of a single thing.” He admits softly. “Other than figuring out where we would like to spend tonight.”

The question warms you through and makes his hand on your waist feel all the more weighty and important. “Did you have a special idea? Or a preference?” For a moment you wonder if he, like you, has been living an implacably solo lifestyle. There is no way your little studio will be big enough for two.

“I have a little cottage.” Javi admits. “But maybe we can get a suite at a hotel? Make it special?” He wants you to be comfortable, to feel like you had more than just a rushed experience.

“A cottage?” The idea sounds so sweet to you that you almost sigh. “We could…stay at yours tonight? And plan the rest of the weekend over breakfast tomorrow?”

“Are you sure?” He’s a little shocked that you would want to stay in his little cottage rather than in a four star hotel with round the clock room service.

“Well, I would bring you home with me but there’s no way we would both be comfortable,” you reason, not thinking about the luxury for a second.

“I understand.” He nods, aware that you might not want him in your space. “I was just making sure you did not want room service?”

“Room service is fun.” You’ll never deny that. “But all I care about is walking up next to my soulmate tomorrow morning.”

The smile is slow as it spreads across his face, he’s shocked that his cheeks don’t hurt from how much he’s been smiling today. Just another miracle of finding you, finding his other half. “Okay.” He agrees softly. “I will show you my cottage. It’s—” he hesitates. “Temporary.” He promises. “Now that you are my wife, you can help me plan the building.”

“The building?” You ask, but he is already swept up in the music again and humming as he twirls you around the floor, conversation forgotten in favor of so much joy.

The night is perfect. The mood is so joyful that he believes every movie should be kicked off with a wedding. Or maybe it just bodes well for the fate of this movie.

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

TUWOP: @inept-the-magnificent @missladym1981 @sunnytuliptime @iamladyp @spishsstuff @famouslyanonymous

[habibisagi]

HAIIIIII i am taking a hiatus / lil break from the app !!!! ^>_<^

TLDR; swamped with school stuff, i want to write and finish my longfic and hope to have it ready to post by isagi's birthday [april 1st], + anxiety being on here no good ^_^

also, coincidentally, RAMADAN KAREEM!!! ‧₊˚ ☾. ⋅ i love you so much, please take care of yourself and your loved ones this month, as will i ^_^ <3

-> back to navi. ^¬‿¬^

ok first off peep the pic dude it's fucking frying me so bad KJHSDFJK i saw the cat with an apple on its head and went omg. what if i put a soccer ball instead. and then horrified isagi because the ball is stolen by the winner cat and he lost. ^¬‿¬^ i'm a genius i fear

anyway KJSDH OMG okay SO. this is my first hiatus YIPPEEE!!!! specifically, my first one since i got back on the app last year in may lol and before that i was gone for over a year (but that was unannounced like i just randomly disappeared KJHSDFK). cuz usually if i wanna be gone for a few days or take a little break i just don't get on tbh lmao like i don't need to make an announcement or say i'm taking a hiatus since it's no big deal!! especially since i'm not really actively posting writing or anything, so no real need for one.

however, for this one i am not too sure how long!! and so that's why i figured i would make one!! ;3c jic anyone was curious why the sudden disappearance ehe AND so i can like. force myself to be off here completely. like "girl you made a hiatus post now it would be embarrassing and bad to be on here still so shoo. and do your thing creature." but you will definitely see me back by april 1st ^_^ maybe earlier than that if i can get my shtufffff together quicker <3

and before you ask, no it is not because of ramadan! it's a pure coincidence actually, and it's making me smile and emotional a bit because ramadan is a month about forgiveness and taking care of yourself/sticking to yourself, among finding inner peace within yourself, so it was just meant to be and a sign for me to take time off <3

one of the first reasons is i'm behind on a lot of assignments rn and i have important deadlines coming up and so i need to get back on track for that, and the app is a huge blocker for me because i have 0 self-discipline v_v

the second is also another deadline but this one i wanna set for myself and not school related! and that is i'd like to focus and write my shoujo isagi fic and finish it while having fun at my own pace, and hopefully have it done by his birthday, which is april 1st!! >_< so omg exactly a month from now ehe (this part wasn't planned but the coincidence is bananas. truly a sign...). but yeah my adhd is poopoo farts and tumblr distracts me so much and i will have fun / even no fun on here for hours and get nothing done on what i actually wanna do </3 LOL. that is my shawty bae princess pookie pie boyfriend and i wanna focus on his fic and do something FOR ME for once :3!!!!! i wanna get so lost in the sauce as i write i forget i have tumblr and that i have to post it. that it gets done and i would be like "ohh i could def post this" NOT "omg i wanna finish this to post it". DOES THIS MAKE SENSE okay cool beans

the main part, however, is just some unexplained irrational anxiety i've been getting on here that makes me feel chronically online in a bad way and it hurts me LMAOOO. some interactions not seeming equally reciprocated and passive aggressive or even dry and then i feel isolated lol. even feeling like i'm being taken for granted. and I HATE THATTTTTTTTTTTTT booooo. i can be a deadbeat myself fs but i never actually ignore anyone and i am always interacting and putting in that effort and responding eventually and equally (off the inbox). and while no one is obligated to give it back or owes it (since DUH everyone has a life and stuff and no one owes you anything), as it's no one fault - it still stings a bit and i'm allowed to feel sad and pissy about it!!! v__v

(i'm not vaguing anyone specific btw, so really like. /nbhs ig i'm just saying in general this is how i've been feeling! and i'm valid for it ehe.)

yk that saying that's like "if they wanted to, they would"? i want to accept that ^_^ if someone wants to match my energy, interact in the way i do, they would. and if they don't they don't. BOO. i can't keep feeling upset about it. cuz like we are here having fun being silly about fictional characters at the end of the day, so truly it is not that serious LMFAOOO and maybe i am just being a wee bit dramatic, but my anxiety really is off the charts rn. so don't blame me ok.

you can always take time out of your day if you cared enough, and some just don't. and that's okay :3c!! when you give too much of yourself that is when you STOP and take a step back. and that is what i shall be doing ehe. not worth my time, not worth my energy.

i will be logging off completely and not checking notifs or the dash as soon as i post this >_> TIME AWAY WILL DO ME GOOD ONCE AGAIN. i won't even lurk or look up blogs to keep up or anything tbh because right now i just feel anxious and weird and i don't wanna be here >_< tumblr smelly and stinky right now i want me time

MUTUALS I WILL DEFINITELY STILL BE ON DISCORD IF YOU WANNA CHAT WITH ME BTW i am just getting off this app for a bit. I LOVE U i'm putting my discord in the tags :>

[heretical-cogitations]

Chairon x gn!reader

Word count:  ~880

I haven’t seen too much written about him and think he deserves more love, so have this: how I can see yours and Chairon’s relationship starting and how you end up convincing him to bed you. Once again, I already have more, I could write about….

Warnings: MDNI 18+, intercrural sex (thigh fucking), Chairon being the most loving and sweet man, very brief mention of oral and fingering.

Please let me know if I’ve missed anything!!

I can see a relationship with him starting surprisingly naturally, he is the type to always greet the baseline around him and strike up small conversations, he is aware of how in awe they are of him, but he just likes yapping.

Then he meets you and you both just seem to click together. Chairon finds himself actively seeking you out, wanting to know more.

He starts looking for little things to bring back to you when he is deployed, little gifts that come with stories he can share.

Eventually this leads to you forming a romantic relationship in private, both sneaking around, to not get caught. Despite him being so careful, his brothers can tell something has changed. Chairon can’t really school his expressions well especially in the eyes of fellow astartes, and so when he is pressed about why he has been creeping away in the night he crumbles pretty quickly, gushing about you.

He is so much larger than you in every way and could so easy kill or seriously injury you without even thinking about it. So, he is petrified of being intimate in anyway with you in the beginning, it’s not at all for lack of want.

Numerous innocent kisses turning into soft moans, roaming hands and heavy petting before he abruptly stops, apologising that he can’t continue.

No matter how much you protest he won’t hear it, so you have to get creative.

Your first attempt is suggesting oral, which Chairon is excited to give but refuses once again to receive. More of your little meetings go by tension twisting tighter and tighter until you mention intercrural sex. That seems to snap that rising tension weeks if not months of skirting around what you both want crashing down full force.

He has you on your back ankles grasped in one hand, pulled to rest on his shoulder, hips held suspended in the air to be level with his own as he lathers his cock in lube before slowly inching it into the smooth embrace of your thighs.

Breath stuttering as he feels his length grind against your sex. Eyes fixated on the apex of your thighs, watching the head of his cock appear with each thrust precum smearing across your abdomen.

He realises this is close to how deep he would reach if you took all of him inside you, the revelation causing a deep groan to rumble out from him spare hand roaming the expanse of your chest to rub a thumb over that spot.

“S So beautiful, my sweet, I have craved this for so long, thought about you for so many nights.” Interrupting himself every few words with soft moans thrusts gaining speed and force, eventually bouncing you up with each slap of his hips against your arse and thighs.

Your own moans growing more needy and erratic only encouraging him to continue at tis punishing pace.

“O oh C Chai p please, I It feels so good, need more.” You sound angelic to him, hips bucking up against him.

“What do you want, sweetheart?”  hand travelling up roving over and up your body ending at your cheek cupping it, thumb rubbing lovingly over the skin beneath. Hips still grinding pace unfaltering.

Your legs are pushed closer and closer to your chest as he leans down, body curling under him to

“N need you i inside me p please.” You moan out arms wrapping around this neck pulling him as close as you can your plea repeating over and over as he pushes you closer and closer to your climax.

A low growl emitting from him, his head knocking forward forehead resting against your own. The deep timbre of his voice cut through your begging “My light, there will be time for t that in the future… I I can tell you are close, so am I.” hot breath fanning across your cheek. You pull him impossibly closer head nodding, moaning into the crook of his neck.

Your hips crashing together, as you buck up uncontrollably against his as you cum, a series of pitched moans of his name spilling out of you as you bit down into the skin of his neck. Legs trembling with each white-hot jolt of pleasure that burst through you.

He’s quick to follow hips press yours down squashing you under him as he spills his seed across your stomach, pooling where you are folded, face nuzzling into your hair as he sighs out your name.

You both stay tangled for a moment, basking in the afterglow of your orgasms.

Sitting up Chairon unlatches your arms from his neck before gently removing his grip from your ankles pressing soft kisses against them. “You were amazing, as always my dear.”

“As did you, my lord.” You hum in return serene smile spread across your features.

After this, it is less of an uphill battle to get him into bed, than it was before.

Able to coax him into fingering you with 1 then 2 and ultimately 3 of his fingers over multiple different occasions each followed with him fucking your thighs.  

He has developed a bit of an obsession with your thighs because if this.

Eventually, you convince him to actually fuck you.

But that is for another day…

[fluffydeoxys]

thoughts on my hank design and how it's changed since my first attempt ~3 months ago, under da cut.

There are kind of two main aspects to Hank. There's a big, hulking and monstrous quality, paired with a swift litheness that's still important to encapsulate. Hank is powerful, but he's not slow. As demonstrated quite clearly in the animations, he's forceful and acrobatic. There are some ninja elements to his Consternation design, but he's not the skinny, nimble type.

Thus, while he does lean quite heavily into heavy muscle girth, I am happy with the balance I think I've achieved. I think a lot of this is achieved by making the tassels free-flowing and weightless, in tandem with the open bottom half of his coat.

This was an interesting thing to toss up between: open or closed coat? In addition to this, flat or popped collar? In the end I chose an open coat and a downturned collar for a few reasons.

For the open coat, firstly, it let me showcase the belts and harnesses on his legs properly, which I'll touch on later. It also allowed me to give the coat some room to flow and flap out, which is in direct contrast to Zero, albeit she can lean more into this with her full cloak. It also comes across as more 'open', like Hank welcomes challenges and danger. Coats can be quite effective in conveying mysterious, closed-off characters, but in this case, it's helping them come across as mysterious and dangerous. Capable.

I think I may still draw a more closed coat from time to time, especially for simple stylisations or when drawing Hank as a little creature. But who knows, maybe the more sensible belt structure in the middle might make it easier to simplify it.

I went with a flat, downturned collar because Zero already had a distinct, flared collar that hid her face. While an upturned collar would just emphasise Hank's head and create some dramatic angles, I like it being more in line with its shoulders. I described in a previous post about how I depict/think about design elements of Hank about how I think lowered but broad shoulders convey this particular kind of "relaxed". Not chill and comfortable, but merely waiting. His surroundings aren't that important, but when they are, you can see his alertness. Unsettling, I would imagine.

Giving the belts a more sensible structure was the main motivator for doing this (+well. improving artistically since then, I s'pose), and I am quite pleased with it. This time, I focused on the idea of "restraint" in tandem with "preparedness", which a harness perfectly encapsulates. Hank's restraints are sort of... figurative. It can be willed and pulled and tugged by the Machine, by a power on high. Tugged about by the narrative. It is restrained by its body, held back from true destruction.

The clothes are tight, conforming, applying pressure. Focus, assuredness, prepared for slaughter. They serve a single purpose: death, and with no real interest in being protected. It wants to hurt, to feel something, and to do the same to others. There is more 'protection' in the torso at least (and it looks quite sturdy and hefty itself) so Hank isn't a complete sitting duck dumbass, though. I also quite like how there's barely any skin showing, just the tiny slit of forehead and half of their fingers.

It illustrates a pretty interesting comparison between Zero and Hank. Zero is a little more dressed down but not anywhere near casual. Gives off a sort of 'retired' energy, which is intentional. A passive, wandering force. Whereas Hank is like a storm rolling in, active and hunting. He has a very strong and intentional hunter-like quality.

The skull kneeguards were a very random addition, but I think it's adorable honestly. I love adding little cute qualities (when appropriate), another one of these things being the Antipathy design on his coat pocket. It's subtle and you can only really spot it when you're looking closely, so it doesn't ruin the overall cohesion or intimidating factor.

The choice for the underside of his coat being a red gradient was to have some visual variety and interest, but it is also an intentional parallel to the Other Place, or at the very least, the red-black gradient of Nevada's sky nowadays. The way it is worn and tattered is a direct mirror of Zero.

I've become quite fond of Hank with black nails; I think they contrast nicely with fingerless gloves and how pale their skin is. But I'm a huge fan of claws, and now 2BD also has them too (though this is just in the gloves) alongside Zero, so I kept my original idea of retractable claws, but now I have them retract into black nails.

I felt it was a cute, intimate detail that Hank has a holster on his leg specifically for Zero's knife. It's a piece of her that she willingly lends him from time to time, and Hank, who normally doesn't care about 99% of things that walk this earth, has a spot on his body for that weapon. And that Zero would willingly surrender a tool to him when, realistically, he doesn't actually need it. Little things like this showcase their "closeness" quite aptly, I feel.

Hank is much more heavily scarred than Zero because while both of them have fought for lifetimes, Zero's journey primarily happened a long time ago, in the infinite spiral of the loop. Her scars are old, pale and weathered. Theoretically, they are as many as Hank, but her present body isn't displaying every injury in every lifetime. Meanwhile, Hank is in the present, actively fighting, tearing through others and being torn apart. Its scars are fresher, and it is stitched together more often. It's scarred down even to the very fingers.

"Crush, Destroy, Kill" being on the back of Hank's neck was just a fun, random idea I had. I don't imagine he got it tattooed; rather, it appeared one day when Hank was revived. I like to think these principles, this 'motto', is literally etched into their skin.

I liked how the metals of Hank turned out more bronze, whereas Zero is silver. I don't think it has any particular meaning, but it just looked interesting. Though speaking of, I liked making Hank's metal jaw quite square, with the little two fangs on it. I also like depictions where the metal has a full row of teeth (and I may draw it like that on occasion myself), but it looks nice and sturdy and square like this. Also helped by the heavy metal texturing. Looks like a weapon all on its own LOL

A much more minor thing, but the proportions have also contributed considerably to a better depiction of Hank, in my eyes. His shoulders are broader, and his head isn't as high above them - personally, I think he's almost always slouching, even if only mildly at the neck. They just don't care about 95% of 'presentation' besides this very specific idea that Hank likes. His arms are nice and large, and I think they look much better with this sturdy, stocky muscle and body silhouette compared to my first, older version. Also their goggles aren't so dang big. Funnily I struggle a lot with drawing Hank's face with the correct proportions, but I am getting better.

And here they are, all together with their proper height scales now! There's a less obvious size difference between Hank and Zero now, which I am very happy with. Their shapes are more distinct, as well as their body types and silhouettes being much more distinguishable. I would probably redo Zero's pose to better reflect her personality but there are other things I want to work on, and I mainly prioritised that pose as being a clear reference.

i like hank with big tongue sory

[wilmonsfolklore]

Wilmon fic recs!

my health has been shit lately but at least it's given me the time to read a lot of fics, so I thought I'd rec a few!! of course this is a non-exhaustive list and there is so much other beautiful fic out there. also remember to leave comments and kudos if you enjoy any of these!!

here's some of my favourite WIP's that im obsessed with and that brighten my days with their updates <3

like we've never touched before by nonalovesyou - Post season 1 angst in 2025? I'm so happy it exists. Simon gets assigned to tutor Wille in math and they (in a S2 way) awkwardly, inevitably, try to reconnect. Simon's characterisation is incredible, the angst hurts in the best way, and I'm so excited to see it continue.

Hope And Legacy by @malinowaj - Simon and Wille are both pro figure skaters and Simon gets forced to coach Wille by Kristina. Sports AU's have a special place in my heart and this one is just perfect. The way their relationship slowly and organically develops feels so realistic and is incredibly heartwarming. And it's actually gotten me more interested in figure skating, which is fun!!

Even If It's Just Us by queerfrogprince - Wille and Simon reconnect after years to travel Europe together. Wille is grieving, it's messy, it's painful, it hurts, it doesn't shy away from difficult yet important conversations. It's also comforting in a way their relationship kind of inherently is and their natural connection and pull towards each other is so well described. And also, they feel so grounded in every place they visit. I drop everything every time an update comes out.

Change My Mind by @iwouldnevergetintofanfic - Wille comes to Hillerska two years later, Felice wants to date him, and is best friends with Simon. I love Simon and Felice's dynamic in this, and the way Wille keeps subverting Simon's expectations never gets old to me. And Simon finding more of a place at Hillerska is really interesting and fun to read about, it feels really grounded and has those true high school experience-vibes to me. Really excited to see how this one will play out!

come closer and see into the dark by @bigalockwood - Simon and Wille are ghosthunters who work together and care a little bit too much for each other to be professional. There's angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, tension, everything you could ever want. The way their personalities got so perfectly influenced by the world they're in is impeccable and I could talk about it for hours. A masterpiece.

land between our bodies by @phneltwrites - Wille and Simon don't get back together at the end of S3, instead they start to fake date. But this is so, so, much more than that. It explores Simon's character in a way that has made me actually understand him better, the writing is gorgeous, it has one of my favourite OC's of all time, and the way the inevitability and yet the active choice of Wille and Simon's relationship plays into everything here... It hurts and it is so good.

Et c'est le but! by @piebingo - Simon moves across the world to play hockey and live with a host family, Wille's of course. There's only one chapter of this so far but the premise of this is so exciting, and the first Wilmon interaction had me invested already. Really looking forward to reading more of this!

Running With Wolves by @enjoythesilentworld - I'm kind of cheating by putting this one in because I've only read the first chapter but I am already so invested. I never knew the YR fandom needed their own crime novel but this made me realise we so do. Detective Simon, crimeboss Wille, an intricate and incredibly developed plot and so so so much tension. It doesn't get better than that.

And also, because I couldn't bear leaving these out, a few finished works that I really really enjoyed reading!!

Moon go down (do it again) by @skibasyndrome - Wille and Simon in Simon's dorm a few months into meeting and their first uni semester. This has been living in my head since I first read it. The atmosphere, the writing, the quietness of the scene and the loudness of their emotions, the sweetness of the moment. It's so perfectly captured and I want to be in it forever. I'm so happy to have this fic to read whenever I want some comfort.

Take A Punt by @gulliblelemon - Wille and Simon connect in a UK university town. I loved following along as this was posted. It's lighthearted and cute, and it's adorable and fun how Wille is so immediately mesmerised by Simon. But there's also some honest and emotional conversations, and the awkwardness of the transition from accidently spending time together to doing it very much on purpose. Perfect for a pick me up after a tough day.

Never Not You by @pagegirlintraining - Twelve years after the sex tape, Wille and Simon are best friends but have moved on romantically. Or have they?? I was lucky enough to binge this fic when it was finished because oh my god I don't think I could've managed to wait with how invested I was. The fact that this fic had both pov's added so much and puts you right into both of their headspaces. Characterisation is incredible and the dynamic is so Wilmon but has also clearly grown up with them. It's exceptionally painful and messy, but just like with their relationship, it is more than worth it.

[thedreadvampy]

Sorry about your loss :( when youre feeling up to it, I'd love to hear some memories about Otis.

well as often happens in these situations one thing I'm finding is I didn't take enough pictures of him while I had the chance.

Otis, as my friend said in some distress when I told them last week that he was sick, was The People's Boy. Everybody loved him and he loved people, he was enthusiastically ready to meet strangers and greet friends. He was an exceptionally sweet and chill man and he actively enjoyed handling, so he converted several people who weren't sure of snakes at all into huge Otis fans.

He was an incredibly beautiful boy - he was very big and muscular before he got sick, and he had creamy white and dark brown patterning that made him look like tempered chocolate. His belly was this lovely graphic checkerboard and he had a face that always made me think of a rabbit's face - big brown eyes and a pinkish nose and a little moustache pattern that gave him :3 face.

He liked to climb all over you, and he particularly liked to climb long hair. he would reach himself out so far his whole body was trembling. but he wasn't ever really trying to get away, he was just enjoying exploring - the corn snake we had until 2020 was always gearing up for a dash, but Otis was a pootler, he liked to wander around and smell things.

we got Otis in 2021 from the SSPCA and he was about 3 then. We think they'd misjudged his food requirements cause they told us he had one mouse a week, but that he'd scarf up any leftovers the other snakes didn't eat. and when he moved in with us he fell on food immediately (which was nice cause we'd just lost a baby corn snake who never learned how to eat at all) but then he'd stay activated and looking for more food instead of settling in to digest. also he did this.

literally tried to eat both me and Sam multiple times which was no fun for anyone involved. lots of blood and prising off of jaws with a credit card. anyway then we upped him to two large mice a week and he never showed the slightest signs of aggression or biting ever again. he was literally just starving.

he also grew literally another foot once he was getting enough food, which came as a bit of a surprise cause at 3 we figured he was mostly done growing, but he grew so much we had to get him a bigger viv because he was doing frustrated circles around the old one.

we took him to the vet like a few months or so into having him, because he stopped eating over the winter, which we didn't yet know was normal for him, and because he had a scar on his head when we got him which seemed to be spreading (in retrospect, probably just because he was growing so much that damaged skin was splitting).

First off, the vet loved him. Whenever Otis had to go to the vets, all the nurses would see him through the window and come in to fuss over him.

On that early visit, the vet used the phrase "startlingly healthy" - he was on the biggest end of male kingsnakes and he was basically pure muscle. We called him our long himbo because he was both exceptionally fit, super sweet-natured, and kinda dumb.

I remember one time we gave him a mouse, he leapt on it instantly then dropped it, and he looked back at us in confusion with his tongue flickering like "mOuSe? sMeLl MoUsE? wHeRe MoUsE?????" and we were like buddy. It's on your butt. I can see it. It's draped over you.

he loved to burrow and he loved to swim. Not so much recently, because he was prescribed daily baths to help with his gut issues and he came to find it quite stressful, but in the past if we put him in a bath he'd settle in happily and swim laps around the box. he spent a good chunk of his life buried in between the paper layers in his viv (occasionally terrifying, he was good at hiding) but he refused to stay in pockets, because when he was out and about he wanted to keep an eye on everything.

he was so chill. He didn't mind being handled or kissed on his back, and he'd just do little bleps right on your face. He seemed almost impossible to scare, he'd just wander straight up to things. He did like an explore but he was also totally happy to sit in your lap or around your neck while you got on with things, and he'd often refuse to get back in his viv after. He really really liked people, and he liked us.

I'm really struggling at the moment because for years now when I'm sad and exhausted and out of energy I'd take him out and hold him in my lap and he'd help me feel more safe and present. And I would really like to be doing that again and I can't. I miss his weight and warmth and smoothness and the way he smelled and I miss talking to him. He was the goodest boy.

[slaymitchabernathy]

The Witch

| "And I'm on trial, waiting 'til the beat comes out. I'm miles away, he's on my mind, I'm getting tired of crawling all the way. And I've had enough, it's obvious, and I'm getting tired of crawling all the way." |

He finds his way to the cabin under the cover of the moonlight, a heavy feeling weighs on his chest. On one note, Coriolanus is almost honored to be trusted with a mission as important as this one. But on another, it all feels so wrong, Soarynn hasn't done anything, hurt anyone. From what she's told him, she's lonely yes, but she'd never hurt a fly.

Perhaps Hoff is blowing things out of proportion.

He finds Petunia sitting on the top step, her tail swishes back and forth when she sees him. They have somewhat of a mutual understanding now, she doesn't bite him, he doesn't kick her.

It's a symbiotic relationship.

Petunia meows when he pets her head, staying perched on the step. Soarynn says she keeps watch at night, since cats have better vision than humans do in the dark.

He quietly knocks on the door, hoping, praying that Soarynn isn't home tonight. To his chagrin, she opens the door, dressed in a nightgown, with her hair braided down her back. "Oh," she says, looking surprised to see him so late at night, "thought you were comin' around on Sunday."

Coriolanus shoves his hands in his pockets, "Just wanted to see you."

For someone who values honesty, it scares him how easily he can lie to her.

Soarynn smiles, soft and sweet. She's gotten to be much nicer to him, more trusting and open. "Well, come in, it's gettin' colder every night." She's right, the hot months of summer are well behind them, bringing a brisk air with October. He shuffles into the small house, closing the door behind him. If Petunia wants to come inside, she'll make it known by scratching at the door and yowling at the top of her lungs until someone opens it for her.

"I just put some tea on if you want any."

Coriolanus eyes the teapot, he's not really here for tea. "Actually, I was wondering if you'd read my palm again, I, I'm interested to see if there's anything else it might tell you."

Soarynn seems surprised at his statement. A few months ago he nearly ran out of here when she read his palm, but so much has changed since then.

They’ve changed since then.

“Sure, have a seat.”

Coriolanus sits in the wooden chair, resting the back of his larger hand against the table. If Soarynn can really read people’s palms, he wonders what else she can do. Can she read his thoughts? Can she tell the future?

Whatever she can do, it seems to make people like Commander Hoff very nervous, so nervous that he wants to see her hanging from the gallows.

Soarynn sits across from him, brushing her long blonde hair behind her ears as she leans forward, “You want me to read the same one?”

“Is there a difference?” He asks, thinking that surely it won’t matter which palm she reads. Soarynn nods, tracing a finger down the well-worn lines in his palm, “Each one tells me a different story.”

Well, what does he have to lose?

He places his other hand on the table, doing his best to keep it from shaking from his nerves. From his guilt. Soarynn says nothing about the shaking though, if she even notices it.

She studies his palm, the grooves it has from grabbing and holding things after almost nineteen years. She presses her finger against the longest one, "This means you'll have a long marriage, it'll last long is what I mean, won't have to worry about splittin' up."

Well that's a relief he supposes. Divorce is highly frowned upon in the Capitol and if Coriolanus wants to become President-which he does-he can't afford to stain his reputation with a nasty divorce. This is certainly good news. He already prefers this hand over the other one.

Soarynn continues reading his palm, "This one shows that you'll meet someone soon, a girl," she mumbles and he notices a slight blush on her cheeks. Does she think it's about her? He does his best to ease the tension growing between them, "How lucky she'll be then," he jokes, cracking a smile. Soarynn hums without returning the smile.

"This one says that you'll also break a heart."

Oh.

Breaking a heart can mean a lot of things though, like a friendship, not necessarily a romantic relationship. That's what he wants to think. Soarynn lets go of his hand, "That's all I can see."

Is it? Or is it all she wants to see?

Either way, he came here on a mission, on an assignment and he intends to see it through, even if it's horrible. "Have you ever been in love?" He asks, leaning back in the chair. Soarynn raises her eyebrows, they talk about many things when they're together, but never love.

Too sensitive for either of them.

"Can't say I have," she replies with a shrug, "most boys don't want much to do with me."

If he's going to do this, then he ought to do it the proper way, charm her, make her feel good at least. Give her one last final moment before her bitter end. So he grins, "Really? Then they're missing out."

Soarynn looks mildly uncomfortable with where this conversation is going. "I'm not really lookin' either," she adds, "for someone." That actually interests him, Coriolanus has always known that he'd need to find a suitable partner, but perhaps they don't have these goals in Twelve, or any of the Districts for that matter.

"If you had to create the perfect man, what would he be like?"

They're going into uncharted territory and just like when he was lost in the forest, Coriolanus has no map.

Soarynn shifts in her chair, pulling her knees to her chest and he involuntarily looks at her bare legs, smooth despite living in the woods. She must bathe and shave in the lake. That's good, there's nothing worse than an unkempt woman.

"Um, haven't really thought about it before if I'm bein' honest. Probably just someone who loves me for who I am, and someone who likes bein' outside."

So not him.

That's fine, perfectly fine in fact.

This way, he won't get more attached to her. "I'm sure you'll meet him one day," he tells her, ignoring the way she looks longingly at him from across the table. If she wants him to love her, she's shit out of luck. Coriolanus already knows he can't love, isn't capable of it, doesn't really want to do it either.

Love makes him weak.

He feels weak already when he's around her. She's so disarming, so pretty and kind. He's going to hell for what he's about to do to her.

"I forgot to tell you, I'm leaving in a couple of days."

Soarynn looks genuinely hurt by his lie, she needn't know that he's lying, it'll make this so much easier. "Where're you goin' then? Two?" Coriolanus grins, shaking his head, "Back home. That's really why I came to see you, to say goodbye."

Soarynn's entire body deflates, poor thing is going to be all alone again, or well, she thinks she's going to be all alone again.

And what will they do to spend their last night together?

"Oh, well, well I'm gonna miss seein' you out here then. It's been real nice havin' a friendly face come and visit me. I just wish I could give you somethin' as a gift."

His eyes travel along her collar bones, her bare shoulders with a thin night gown strap across them. "I can think of one thing," he says, leaning forward, "one thing you could give me Soarynn."

Soarynn sits up straighter, his intentions are clear.

It's her move now.

꧁ ꧂

Three hours later and Coriolanus is getting dressed again.

He can feel her watching him, those stormy blue eyes have always enchanted him, and he hopes that this will be his last memory of her. Sweet and innocent, and now, wholly his.

He didn't expect for her to be a virgin, figured a girl like her had probably slept with half the town for a few grimy coins but no, Soarynn was a sweet little secret. She gave in rather easily, desperate for some last bits of human companionship before he took off for home.

To his credit, he was gentle, patient, some might even say he was loving.

Her eyes were so wide when he slid into her cunt, so mesmerized by him, by his body, his confidence, his experience. Him. He guided her through the steps of losing one's virginity. He tasted her, wined and dined her like she was his last meal.

She basically was.

Despite the urge to fuck her like no tomorrow, he held back, taking things nice and slow, romantic even.

They kissed.

"When does your train leave?"

"Sunday," he lies, slipping his shirt back on, "that's why I came to see you tonight."

"Wish I could come and see you at the station," she says, and he turns, looking at the vision she is when she's naked in bed. While she is underfed, her body is just to his liking, soft and smooth, her breasts fit perfectly into his hands. It's a shame he only got to taste her once.

"It's probably for the best," he tells her, tucking his gun back into his waistband, "but thank you, for everything. I hope it all works out for you in the end."

Soarynn smiles up at him, so sweet and trusting, "I hope it all works out for you too. Maybe you could come and visit me and Petunia someday when you're rich."

Oh, Petunia. He hadn't even thought about the cat. What will she do when Soarynn is gone?

Coriolanus clears his throat, desperate to get out of here before his guilty thoughts consume him. "Yeah, well, I'll have to see. I better get going though."

Soarynn sits up in her bed, pulling the covers up to her chest, "Guess this is goodbye then," she says softly. Coriolanus nods, scratching the back of his neck, feeling the cold chain of his dogtags against his skin, "Here, for you to remember me by." He pulls the chain over his neck, holding it out to her.

Soarynn's fingers wrap around the silver chain, silver is a hard thing to find out here. "Thank you. Here, take this." She slides off one of her rings, she always wears rings, some shiny, some dull. This one though is special because she told him about it.

One of her mother's rings.

"I can't," he shakes his head, "it's your mother's."

"Take it," she insists, "you gave me the lighter that used to be your father's. It's the least I could give you."

She already gave him her virginity.

He takes the ring, sliding it onto his pinky, "Thanks."

Coriolanus leans down, pressing one more chaste kiss to her lips which she eagerly returns. He's been with a few girls, but never a girl like her.

Not every man can say that he slept with a witch.

꧁ ꧂

Three days later, a proper witch hunt takes place at night.

Coriolanus watched men load into trucks, with dogs on leashes and guns holstered to their hips.

He hoped Petunia would be able to get away at least.

He sits outside of his barrack, doing about anything to keep himself distracted while he thinks about Soarynn, if she got away, if they found her, if she knows what he's done to her.

Hoff had him make a map of where her cabin was, what it looked like on the inside. He told them everything.

All for a one-way ticket home.

"You've earned it son," Hoff had told him, patting his back, "get back home and forget this ever happened." He leaves at the end of the week.

Right now, he's picking at his nails, cut down for hygienic purposes, and he remembers how tightly she squeezed his hand while they had sex. How soft her hands were, how she giggled when they were done, and he wrapped his arms around her, enjoying the company of another human being for just a moment.

All he had reported back to Hoff was that she wasn't a virgin, and wasn't pregnant, the man didn't need to know anything else.

Suddenly, it's like he can hear every dog barking. Birds fly overhead and he swears they're barking too, or repeating, mimicking. Then, he hears it, a gunshot.

They found her.

꧁ ꧂

Desperate for a distraction, Coriolanus busies himself stacking empty crates by the mess hall, anything to keep his mind off of her. Dinner will be ready soon, the sun is setting and instead of coming back from another trip to the lake, he's here, wallowing in his shame.

The sound of trucks pulling up to the base is more than enough to make Coriolanus feel sick to his stomach. They're back.

He watches the trucks drive through the base one by one, loaded with dogs and Peacekeepers. He approaches the last one when he sees who's sitting in the front of the truck, Commander Hoff.

The Commander notices him instantly, grinning like a bobcat as he steps out of the truck, "Well son, we found her, put up one hell of a fight but we got her." There's a struggle from the back of the truck, a shout, a groan, and then, Soarynn falls out onto the ground. Coriolanus winces at the sound. Two Peacekeepers are on top of her in seconds, grabbing her by her bound arms and lifting her up as if she weighs nothing.

Hoff chuckles, shaking his head at the sight, "She's a wild one, don't know how you put up with her private."

Coriolanus swallows, everything Soarynn has ever known will soon be gone.

The Peacekeepers start to drag her away and she looks over her shoulder, her face is covered in dirt and blood, her hair tangled, her dress torn.

Their eyes meet across the courtyard and he feels shame flooding through his veins.

Her eyes reflect betrayal the same way the lake reflected lightning the night they met in that storm.

When she led the way for him, kept him dry, kept him safe.

Why couldn’t he do the same for her?

"She, uh, she had a cat," he says, his voice distant while watching them lead her away to the cells they keep the detained townspersons in. Mostly for being drunk in public. Now, it's for witches.

"Did you find the cat?"

"The white one? Yeah, we shot her."

Oh, Petunia.

Coriolanus can picture it now, Petunia trying to defend Soarynn in the chaos. The dogs barking, the men surrounding her cabin while Soarynn hunkers down in a corner, terrified out of her mind. Petunia would be on the top step, hissing and swiping at anyone in reach and then, the gun would go off.

It's like he was there to witness it, her small, white body limp on the steps. He can only imagine what Soarynn thought when she saw her feline companion, her loyal friend, dead on the steps to her house.

All because of him.

Now Petunia will rot away, eaten by animals who need a meal. Not buried, no, mourned yes, but not buried the way she should be.

"We'll hang her tomorrow, so rest up," Hoff encourages, "you did a great job helping us Snow, you should be very proud."

Instead of feeling proud, Coriolanus feels like the worst person in the world.

꧁ ꧂

Against his better judgment, Coriolanus goes to visit Soarynn in the cells. Barely any light seeps into the underground room, all concrete, no lake or sunshine, or birds and soft grass.

"Hasn't said a word since she got here," the guard tells him, waving his hand dismissively, "she knows her run is over."

Coriolanus wants to ask this man what "run" he is referring to. Was reading palms and sitting by the lake so bad? Did she really hurt anyone or was she just misunderstood?

He approaches her cell slowly, wrapping his hand around one of the iron bars once he sees her, curled up in the corner. He notices how her hands are still bound, and how there's a thick, metal shackle around her ankle.

She will not escape this.

When she looks up, her gaze is murderous.

"You lied to me," she whispers, her voice hoarse, probably from screaming and crying, "you betrayed me, and you lied to me, and you touched me and now, and now I'll never go home again, and Petunia," her voice breaks off when she mentions her beloved cat.

Coriolanus watches her sob, wishing so badly he could make this right, that he could go back in time and at least warn her. He could've done that, told her about Hoff's plan, left a note, helped her pack. She could've been far north by now, safe and sound.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, truly, he is.

"Go away," she croaks, "I'll be dead by the morning so just go away, no use to you now."

He sighs, it needn't be this way, not when she's about to die. "Soarynn," he starts, crouching down, "don't let it end like this, we still have time. We can talk things ou-"

"GO AWAY!" She screams, scaring him so bad that he falls back onto the ground, "GO AWAY AND NEVER COME BACK! YOU'RE CURSED! I CURSE YOU AND EVERYONE YOU KNOW. I CURSE YOUR WIFE, YOUR SONS, YOUR DAUGHTERS, EVERYONE! GO AWAY!"

For once, he is at a loss for words.

Her anger doesn't last long, it seems that screaming took the last bit of energy out of her, because Soarynn slouches back into her corner, soft sniffles can be heard, but his words will only hurt her further.

So Coriolanus leaves, cursed and cruel.

꧁ ꧂

"Citizens of Twelve, we are gathered here today to witness the hanging of the witch! A shunned woman who has caused havoc and dismay on Twelve for far too long!"

Coriolanus scans the crowd that has gathered to see Soarynn die. None of them cheer, all faces are solemn. Maybe she wasn't the witch they made her out to be.

"Let this be a message that the Capitol will not be challenged, living outside of our borders is unnatural and will result in execution. We have no tolerance for rebels," Hoff finishes in a snobbish tone.

Coriolanus turns when the rest of his fellow Peacekeepers do, all must bear witness to the witch dying. Soarynn keeps her composure calm, her face natural as she looks out into the crowd of people who knew her or knew of her all her life. She doesn't resist when another Commander guides her towards the noose or slips it over her neck.

In her last moments, she lets out a four note whistle, the same one she'd use to call Petunia back home. The birds in the forest must like this tune because they begin to repeat it in a melodic fashion, chirping it over and over again.

"Kill the witch!" Hoff commands.

Soarynn closes her eyes and it's done in a second, the floor gives out from underneath her, and he watches her neck snap like the stem of a daisy. He gasps, just like that, Soarynn is gone.

Mumurs can be heard through the crowd when her body is collected, they'll burn it next under Hoff's orders so she can't come back.

Coriolanus doesn't stick around for that part.

Instead, he ventures into the woods, desperate for a safe space to gather his thoughts. His feet carry him to the cabin without him even realizing it. It's a shocking sight. Every window broken, the steps in disrepair, the front door hanging off the hinges.

Coriolanus slowly climbs the steps and chokes back a sob when he sees her.

Petunia.

Her small little body lying in the doorway. He can see where she was shot, that fur stained red. Coriolanus sinks to his knees, gently picking up her lifeless frame, "I'm sorry," he whispers, choking back a sob, "I'm sorry I didn't protect you."

He failed to protect both of them, he could have but he didn't.

He looks into the cabin and finds the inside worse than the outside. Bedsheets thrown on the floor, glass frames shattered, the table knocked over. It's a mess.

Coriolanus manages to find one of the scarves Soarynn liked to wrap around her shoulders, a pretty orange thing, it will do nicely. He takes one last look at the cabin he might have considered home for a brief period of time before leaving.

He goes a little ways into the woods before stopping in a small clearing. He gently sets Petunia's body down and begins digging, it takes quite a while with his bare hands, but the ground is soft and his hands are already dirty, covered in blood literally and metaphorically.

Once the grave is deep enough, he carefully wraps Petunia in the scarf, so they can be together even in death.

"I hope you found each other again," he whispers, lowering her body into the ground. Burying her is much easier than digging was. He finds a few wild flowers and leaves them on top of her grave as well, it's what Soarynn would have wanted.

He doesn't stay much longer, he'll be leaving soon and he's not welcomed here anymore. He wonders if he ever was.

꧁ ꧂

"Good luck in the big city, Private."

Coriolanus gives Hoff a curt nod, today is the day, he's going back home. "Thank you sir, for everything."

"No, thank you, we couldn't have caught that witch if it weren't for you."

Coriolanus just nods again.

"Oh, we found this in her pockets before the hanging, figured the little brat stole it from you." In Commander Hoff's hand are his father's silver lighter and his dogtags.

Coriolanus pockets them, "Thank you, sir."

"Get home safe, Private."

Once on the train, Coriolanus feels a weight lifted off his chest, he can leave all of this behind, start a new life in the Capitol. The train pulls out of the station and he pulls out the lighter again, inspecting it for damage but finds none.

She took such good care of her things.

Now that cabin is empty. No more light or laughter, no more tea at night. No more Soarynn sleeping in her bed with Petunia curled up next to her. No more.

He stares at his palm again, "This one says that you'll also break a heart." Her voice is a painful echo in his mind, but she was right, he did break a heart.

His own.

Coriolanus scowls at his palm, at that silly little girl with her candles and her cat, living in those godforsaken woods. None if that was normal, none of it was natural. Now he's going back home to the Capitol, where there's order and the people are civil creatures.

He can't blame Soarynn for not knowing everything about him or the Capitol, all she's ever known is this sad life. But he knows one thing for certain.

Snow lands on top.

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

| Part 2. | Final Part |

| taglist: @lovelylove268 @kickmybark @iswearicanfixhim @wonderlandbound111 @melodyoflovee @thevoicesinmyprettylittlehead @erensrealgf @evilmenarehot @cervvsq @snowgirl12 @matcha-muses @anisangeldust @snowsgames |

[margoteve]

Biggest Fan

Rating: G

No ships.

Summary: Kafka meets his biggest fan, the girl he saved on his first night as kaiju.

Read on AO3

No Beta Reader. Slight manga spoilers if you didn't read that.

It was mid January. Couple months after the Meireki Kaju battle. Most of the destroyed Yokohama was rebuilt and so the city decided on hosting its annual marathon event. As it was with all big festivals the JAKDF was taking part in it as both one of the vendors and also partial security. Just in case a kaiju alert happens during the festivities.

Mina as the face of the Force was sitting at the booth with a couple officers hoping to encourage future recruits. It wasn’t her favourite activity but it had its perks. She could get to know the people she was protecting and reassure herself in her work.

"Excuse me!" Suddenly a child, a familiar child, approached the table.

"Oh, hello," Mina smiled, leaning forward to look better at the small, yet determined citizen. "How can I help you?" She noted that there was no parent with her.

"Where is Uncle Kaiju?" The girl asked.

Mina's eyebrows went up. Uncle... kaiju? Her mouth curled a little bit upwards.

"I'm sorry but he wasn’t allowed to come in..." She explained, remorseful.

"Yukiko!" Suddenly a high pitched woman's shout reached them. "Yukiko! What did I tell you! You can't just disappear like this!!" The missing mother appeared. "I am so sorry, Captain..." She turned to Mina, bowing her head a little.

"But I want to meet Uncle Kaiju!! You promised!" Yukiko pouted, hugging a handmade doll of no. 8. She stomped her little foot to make her point.

"Yukiko!" Her mother scolded her. "You shouldn't be-"

"That's okay," Mina spoke out, raising her hand to calm the woman down. "Unfortunately, no. 8 cannot be among the crowd just to avoid panic or the excitement with his person but he is around."

The girl's face lit up instantly. “Can I meet him?!” She pressed her hands on top of the table and jumped up and down. “Pleasepleasepleasepleaseeeee?!”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Mina replied and gave the mother a reassuring look. “Kafka.” She used the communicator in her ear. “Could you drop by sector Gamma?”

“Is there a problem?” He immediately responded sounding battle ready.

“No, but there’s someone really eager to meet you,” she said as she petted Yukiko’s head. “We’ll be there in 5.” 

By the time they got to the small camp the Defence Force set up for themselves, Kafka was already waiting for them there. Yukiko upon seeing the kaiju, immediately let go of her mom’s hand and darted straight to Kafka, tackling his leg.

���Uncle Kaiju!!” 

Kafka looked at her, speechless for a brief moment, then at the mother who was rather pale at the moment. Then he glanced at Mina, who just smiled giving him a silent encouragement. So he looked back down at the little girl and smiled back.

“Heeey! It’s you!” He knelt down and ruffled the girl’s hair.

“You remember me?!” Yukiko gasped.

“Of course! How could I forget! You were the one who helped me the most!” He said and the girl grinned so wide, he was afraid her face would split. 

“U-um, Yu-yukiko, how about you give the officer-” Yukiko’s mom looked at Captain Ashiro if she was using the right term. She didn’t want to insult the most powerful kaiju in the world by accident. Captain nodded back at her. “-the officer, the drawing you made?”

“Oh yeah!” The girl reached into a small bag she had on herself and pulled out a neatly folded drawing. “See! This is you! This is me, this is the cool older brother and this is my mom!” She showed it to Kafka who studied it closely. 

“Wow! You’re quite an artist!”

“Yes! And mommy helped me make this!” Yukiko proudly lifted the No. 8 doll she had.

Kafka oooh’ed in amazement, taking the doll carefully in his hands. “That’s so cool. It’s a little me!”

“Yes! But I might need to make another one, you look different now,” Yukiko said, saddened a little. 

Kafka hummed, trying to come up with a solution to cheer the girl up. 

“We can take a few pictures with you and Number 8 so you can have a reference for the new doll,” Mina spoke up. 

“Oh, please, don’t trouble yourself!” The mother sounded flustered. “We have already intruded…”

“That’s not a problem at all!” Kafka interrupted her. “I always can make time for my biggest fan and you already have permission from Captain Ashiro!”

“Yaaaay!!” 

“Let’s move away from the tents and closer to the trees, though,” Mina suggested. Better not catch any of the military installments in the shot. 

“Let’s have a race then!” Kafka suggested it to Yukiko. 

The girl nodded with enthusiasm. 

“On three!” Kafka began to count. “One, twoooooooo…… two and three quarterssss…. three! Go!” 

The girl squealed and began to run full speed of her tiny legs. Kafka followed at leisurely jog speed, letting her win. 

“Noo! I have been beaten! I can’t catch my breath! So tired!” He fell to his knees, pretending to be out of breath, then faked his death, laying down in the grass, letting his tongue loll out. The girl giggled. 

“You’re really silly.” She poked his face. Kafka didn’t react. “Uncle Kaiju?” Now Yukiko got worried.

Suddenly! Kafka grabbed onto the girl and lifted her up as he sat up. “Rawr! I have snatched a human child! There are no brave officers from the Defence Force to save her!” 

Mina and Yukiko’s mother who were right behind them arrived. Mina shook her head. Kafka and his antics… Yukiko herself laughing and kicking her feet in the air jail Kafka put her in.

“Terrible Kaiju!” She called making her hand into the shape of a gun. “I’m Captain Mina Ashiro of the Third Division! You will release the hostage!”

“Gasp!” He said. “I surrender!” He set Yukiko down. “I am no match for the Great Captain Ashiro!” He raised his arms up. “Have mercy!”

“No mercy for kaiju menace!” Mina said with a serious face. “Blam!”

Kafka faked his death once more, adding more sound effects to himself dying. Yukiko ran to her mother giggling. In the meantime Mina helped Kafka get up from the grass.  

“You’re really giving your all here, huh?” She asked him.

“I meant what I said - that fight when I saved them from that yonju - I was ready to give up, but this girl putting her faith in me, despite being so scared? How could I not…” Kafka said quietly, eyeing the mother and daughter discreetly.

“The girl’s name is Yukiko, by the way,” Mina whispered to him.

“God it, thank you.” He winked at her with 3 of his 6 eyes. “So!” He called their guests. “Pictures!” 

“Yes!!” Yukiko shouted and pulled her mom with her. “Uncle! Let’s make that smile face!”

“Which one?” He tilted his head to the side.

“Smiiiileee” Yukiko imitated his initial, terrible, attempt at a kaiju smile, stretching her mouth with the help of her fingers.

Kafka could hear the little snort and giggle of Mina behind him. “Well, if that’s what you want…” 

The two of them made silly faces. As well as the more genuine one when Yukiko’s mom joined them. Yukiko also got to talk with Kafka about his fights with other kaiju, imitating his punches and kicks. She also got to sit on Kafka’s shoulder as he carried her to the exit of the Gamma sector.

“Uncle, do you see out of these?” She pointed to his extra eyes.

“Yup! I can see a little bit more around me,” he replied.

“Your horns are really cool!” 

“Thank you.”

“Uncle, will you always protect us?” She asked, rubbing her eyes a little. 

“Yup! That’s a promise,” he said and lifted his pinky finger to her.

She wrapped her much smaller pinky around his. “Promise!”

“Now!” He set her down next to her mother. “Be good to your mom, study hard and maybe in the future, you can too become a super cool officer of the Defence Force and we can beat kaiju up together!” 

“Okay!” She nodded with an enthusiastic conviction. Then she yawned.

“This was a lot of excitement for today,” Yukiko’s mom smiled softly and picked her daughter up. “Thank you. You’re really good with children.”

“Eh, that’s really nothing.” Kafka replied. 

The woman bowed a little to both him and Mina, thanking them again before walking away. Yukiko, barely awake in her mother’s arms, waved a little at them. Soon, they disappeared in the crowd. 

“Who knew you’d have such a devoted fan, eh Kafka?” Captain eyed him from the corner of her eyes as Kafka turned around bawling his eyes out with happy tears. He really kept it in for a long time.

A week later. 

“Hey, Kafka! You’ve got mail!” One of the post officers handed Kafka a thick bundle of letters.

“Me?” Kafka held the bundle in his hands.

“What? Old Timer has a fanclub now?!” Iharu said in disbelief.

“Let’s open them, sir!” Reno encouraged him.

The very first one was a handwritten letter from Yukiko. There was a drawing attached. She drew their meeting with him carrying her on his shoulder. She wrote how she told everyone at her primary school about meeting him and that her mom made her a second doll. Kafka smiled to himself reading the entire thing. The kid reminded him of himself and Mina, when they were still small. He was sure she would go far. 

The other letters were from her classmates. It made Iharu laugh at him but Kafka didn’t mind. He met his biggest fan. And that was enough to keep going.

tag list: @kafkahibinomybeloved @mechazushi @j4yslayz @kaijuice-z @sonicasura @ashiraismyname @iceclew

A/N: If you'd prefer I didn't tag you just let me know or if you want to be on the list also let me know. Reblogs and comments are much apprecited. I wrote it at like 3 hours of sleep and pure determination lol