#when emily realized she was fully in denial

[em-prentiss]

Unpopular (?) opinion but I think Aaron fell first, Emily fell harder. Emily didn’t even know what love fully felt like—she recognized attraction and platonic love, but she didn’t realize what she felt was romantic until she was already in love with Aaron. Aaron, however, recognized the slow creep of it, and though he desperately tried to stop it, he couldn’t. He knew long before she did and even tried avoiding her to keep the feelings at bay, but it was useless because once he loved, he loved hard.

[storiesofsvu]

A Dangerous Game Ch 10

Emily Prentiss x reader warnings: language, alcohol consumption, mention of smut, a hint of foreshadowing if you squint, just two idiots in denial. As always, would love to hear your thoughts/comments/what you think is coming next! even on anon! i love talking about my fics with ppl who are enjoying them!

You felt a small weight hit the bed and you stirred in your sleep, not wanting to open your eyes yet, holding onto the dreams before you felt something nuzzle into your hand accompanied by a purring and you realized it was Sergio. He settled into your side right as Emily rolled over, still half asleep herself but her arm wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you to her and you let out a happy sigh before drifting back off to dreamland.

It was only a couple of hours later when Sergio was nudging against your face, little meows getting louder until he finally licked your nose and your eyes scrunched open. You glanced at him, frowning for a moment before he meowed again, this time louder and you let out a quiet sigh, scooping him up before you slipped from the bed.

*

Emily awoke when the sun was fully infiltrating her bedroom, she smiled at first while she stretched and then she realized you weren’t in the bed beside her and she frowned, sitting up she glanced around the room. Your phone was still on her bedside table, and your clothes from last night were still strewn across her floor so you clearly hadn’t gone far. As she fully woke up she could smell coffee wafting through the air, then your voice broke the silence of her apartment. She couldn’t help the small smile that broke across her lips, shifting from the bed to grab some cozy clothes to toss on before leaving her bedroom and wandering down the hall. She paused in the entry way to the kitchen, leaning against the wall to take in the view in front of her. It was clear you had silently raided her closet, a grey FBI tee and pair of pyjama shorts covering your body. The smell of food wafted through the room, a bowl beside the stove while a pan preheated, though you weren’t paying much attention to that at the time. Sergio was up on the counter, getting all the love and scratches as you cooed, giggling when he nuzzled his face against yours.

“Thought you didn’t like cats.” Emily greeted with a tease and you nearly jumped, glancing her way.

“I just said I liked dogs better.” You replied with a sheepish smile, “I gave him half a can, hope that’s alright. Little guy wouldn’t stop screaming earlier.”

“Guess I’m immune to it now.” Stepping forward she wrapped an arm around your waist, pressing a kiss to your cheek before turning to Sergio, “it’s rude to wake up guests.” She scolded, scooping him up with her free arm, “and you know you’re not supposed to be on the counter.”

With an offended meow he jumped out of her arms, padding away to his food dish and you slipped out of her arm, moving to wash your hands before returning your attention to the stove. Emily crossed the kitchen to the coffee pot, pulling down a mug to fill up, adding in her preferred mixings.

“Hope it’s okay I raided your fridge.” You said, scooping a ladle of batter out of the bowl to drip onto the pan in medium sized circles. Behind you Emily chuckled over the first couple sips of her coffee, arm wrapping around you again, this time her lips hit the side of your neck.

“Fridge and closet.” She murmured, “sticky fingers over here.”

“I was hungry!” You defended, “and I didn’t want to put on yesterdays clothes.”

“Could always walk around naked.” She suggested with a smirk and you laughed.

“That was the original plan but Sergio kept staring.”

“Perv.” She scolded in his general direction before kissing your shoulder, “anything I can help with?”

“Bacon’s in the oven, chocolate chip pancakes on the go, if you want anything else? Eggs?”

“Nah.” She squeezed at your hip, moving to the fridge, “I’ll cut up some fruit though.”

Emily flicked through her phone, selecting a soft playlist to echo through the space as the two of you got to work, easily moving around each other in the kitchen. Every so often you’d have to peek through a couple of cupboards before she’d pull down exactly what you were looking for, or she’d purposely brush against you as she reached around you to get something. Soon enough breakfast was done and she was refilling your coffee, mixing it just how you liked it while you shifted everything onto the breakfast bar and took a seat. You murmured a quiet ‘thanks’ to Emily when she slid you your coffee, sighing happily as you took your first sip before digging into breakfast. Her free hand found yours on the table top, fingers tracing the lines of your hand while the two of you ate, chatting every so often.

“This is fucking delicious.” She complimented over her first bite.

“Secret ingredient is putting syrup right into the batter.”

“Kay, that’s it, you need to wake up here every weekend. Because this is perfection.”

You felt your cheeks heat, hoping it wasn’t too noticeable as you smiled over at her, a tiny laugh on your lips and you felt a warmth spread through your chest that you knew had nothing to do with the coffee. You’d not only had one of the best sleeps in weeks, if not even longer, able to sleep as late as you wanted, curled up in Emily’s arms with no worries of a knock at the door, a phone ringing with a new lead, you had all weekend to simply drink each other in. Instead of waking up alone and having to drag yourself out of bed for a pot of coffee and a pop tart you actually had the motivation to cook, to share something with someone else, and it was an incredibly nice change. Sergio headbutted into your leg, rubbing against you while he meowed before pouncing up into your lap and you chuckled.

“I already fed you mister.”

“Careful.” Emily warned with a grin, “he will steal your bacon.”

She watched as you cooed down at him, scratching behind his ears while he rubbed against your hand, nudging his way up to boop against your face. Compared to the wildly professional, bad ass you were on crime scenes, or even the still somewhat cautious woman you were around the rest of the team, you were surprisingly adorable right now. Sure, she’d seen you relaxed before, but nothing like this. Though it probably didn’t help that you were in her kitchen, dressed in her clothes, being affectionate with Sergio after making her a homemade breakfast. You were incredibly at peace, happy and living in that moment, not a care in the world, not a worry about what was coming next and Emily couldn’t help but smile at that thought. Sergio popped up on his hind legs, his paws up on the table and you let out an offended noise, grabbing him around the waist,

“Sir.. we talked about this. I already fed you; you don’t get bacon.” Picking him up you plopped him back down on the floor much to his disappointment before you turned back to your breakfast. “Did you have plans today?”

“No.” Emily replied with a happy smile, “the plan was nothing. Maybe pick up a couple of groceries later but I was gonna leave everything for tomorrow.”

“Your fridge is looking pretty empty.”

“I’m not used to staying home this often!” She defended with a laugh, “I kept waiting for an out of state case to pop up.”

“Tell me about it.” You practically rolled your eyes and Emily chuckled.

“What? There something about out of town cases you prefer?” She teased with a brow raise and you were all of two seconds from throwing a piece of strawberry in her direction.

“As if they haven’t become your favourite.” You placed you cutlery on top of the plate, pushing back from the island to stand.

“Hey, none of that.” Emily interjected and you looked back in her direction, “you cooked, I’ll clean things up.” She nodded toward the couch, “pick something to watch.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” You smiled, placing the plate back on the counter as Emily moved around it, kissing you gently.

“Thank you for breakfast.”

“Anytime.”

*

Hours later and the two of you were tangled in each others limbs on Emily’s couch, you’d managed to go through a handful of episodes of That 70’s Show and had moved onto movies, neither of you wanting to move. Em was on her back, braced against the arm of the couch while you laid on her chest, curled on your side to see the tv. Both of you had dozed on and off throughout the day, a blanket tossed over your bodies, Sergio occasionally jumping up for a cuddle and honestly, it was the best way either of you could have thought to spend a weekend. The movie finally came to an end and you let out a groan, stretching out your body as you shifted so you could see her, patting at her side,

“It’s getting late, you need to get groceries.”

“I’ll go tomorrow.”

“No you won’t.” You chuckled, “and you know it. Besides, what about dinner?”

“Isn’t that what takeout’s for?”

“If you show up to work with no lunch on Monday you’ll never hear the end of it.”

“And I again, remind you about the blessed thing we have now called delivery.” She laughed, her hand smoothing back a piece of loose hair.

“You gotta stop wasting your money Prentiss.” You teased, sitting up and offering her a hand, “c’mon. I’ll even drive. Show you a couple easy bring to work lunches.”

“Fine.” She half grumbled, “but only ‘cause you’re cute.”

“You think I’m being demanding? You only have one can of cat food left. Sergio would nag you until the end of time.”

Emily chuckled, taking your hand and letting you drag her off the couch because you were right, and as much as she wanted to stay on that couch with you, the weekend was also for getting stuff done. At least this way she got to do some of it with you. She’d always thought of grocery shopping as something rather uneventful, especially at the hours when you couldn’t get free samples but today she discovered a whole new side of it. You admitted you also needed to pick up a couple of things, using a basket within her cart to keep yours separate. Neither of you needed a lot, you never wanted to have a fully stocked fridge to then immediately leave for a case and have it all go bad. You picked up some frozen stuff, some dried goods, anything fresh you could easily whip up in the next couple of days to toss into containers and into the freezer if need be. The two of you stayed close while you shopped, stealing kisses, laughter breaking through the quiet of the store as you pursued the aisles without a care in the world who happened to see.

By the time you got back to Emily’s both of you were starving. She popped a nice bottle of malbec while you set about cooking some fresh meatballs, letting her take control of the pasta. Music flowed through the air while you chatted about various things, a lot of it related to food, dishes that either of you liked to make, ones that travelled well for work lunches and your go to’s for fancier meals when you wanted to impress. You ate dinner at the island, this time sneaking Sergio a couple bites of meatball, wrapped in a happy domestic glow before the two of you started on dishes, making sure the kitchen was tidied up. You let out a soft sigh, glancing around the room,

“I should get outta your hair.”

“What?” Emily glanced up from where she was refilling wine glasses, “oh c’mon, I can’t let you drive now.”

“Em…” You laughed, “I’ve had one glass.”

“Not after you finish this.” She slid the glass toward you with a soft smile and you huffed out a laugh.

“I don’t want to take up your whole weekend.”

“Thanks to you I got half my errands done.” A hand closed around your wrist, pulling you to her and you couldn’t help but smile as her lips met yours, “if you need to go, go, but you’re more than welcome to stay another night.”

“Good.” You smiled, kissing her gently, “cause I really didn’t want to put pants on yet.”

With a laugh, she swatted at your ass, picking up the bottle of wine as the two of you made your way back into the living room to make home on the couch. You skimmed through a few streaming options before the two of you settled on a movie to watch to end the day off with. Emily sat beside you, tossing a blanket out over your legs extended onto the coffee table or pulled up under you while the movie played, her arm resting on the back of the couch, occasionally coming to play with your hair or tickle at the back of your neck. You hadn’t realized you’d chosen a movie with such romantic undertones, or maybe it didn’t and it was just your imagination running wild after spending half your weekend at Emily’s. Either way you felt a soft sigh leave your lips as the credits started to play, throughout the movie Emily would briefly hold you tighter, her lips meeting the top of your head, there were stolen glances and laughs, little kisses during more boring moments. It started auto playing onto the sequel and sighed once more, letting it move through your entire body and you felt Emily’s hand squeeze at your arm. You’d shifted once again so you were lying on her chest,

“You alright over there?” She asked softly, hand rubbing at your body and you paused for a moment, putting together your words.

“Is.. is it really that much of an issue?” You shifted your head so you could catch her gaze in time for her brow to furrow while she looked down at you, “co-worker involvement I mean. Does it really affect things as badly as they make it seem?”

Emily let out a breath, she could read between your words, knowing that you were asking because the downfall for a unit chief would likely be more than an agent, no matter what you wanted, you needed to make sure her career wouldn’t be ruined and because you were hesitant. She’d known that from the start. There was no way you would’ve come up to her in that bar all those months ago, and once you’d know she was your superior you kept your distance, you always made sure she was comfortable with whatever was happening.

“The bureau…. Just likes to cover their asses.” She groaned softly, her hand coming to brush hair off your face, “there’s protocols, agents involved with witnesses, lawyers, each other, relations to victims or unsubs, they have to be removed from cases so they don’t jeopardize them.”

“I almost married a lawyer; I remember the rules.” You rolled your eyes and Emily felt her heart jolt in her chest, making sure to tuck that into her back pocket to unpack later, “and honestly it’s bullshit. Will was in the field with us a few weeks ago!” You pushed up to sitting, “not only is he married to JJ but they have kids together? The director in Seattle never would have let that fly.”

“Different states, different directors, different opinions.” Emily offered and you huffed out a laugh.

“Then.. maybe this isn’t so wrong.” You glanced up to her, a curious look on your face and she nearly melted.

“You think it’s worth a shot?”

“I think there’s nothing wrong with friends with benefits.” You finally admitted, “I mean, are you really going to jump to save me just because you’ve seen me come? Over someone like JJ or Morgan who you’ve known for a literal decade?”

“Way to be blunt.” She laughed.

“And hey… our rule was nothing could happen while we were at home.”

“Are you about to find some loophole that this is my home not yours cause it’s my house?” She laughed again, stroking at your cheek and your lips split into a grin.

“No… technically…. I live in Alexandria… you live in Washington. If I’m at you’re place, I’m not in my home state. If you’re at mine, you’re in Virginia.”

“Well that is quite the interesting loophole you’ve found there.”

“Thought you might like it.” You leant in, kissing her and she sighed happily against your lips, “so?”

“I say we cut the crap.” Emily chuckled, “like you said, no harm in friends with benefits. What was the point in saying we could only hook up while out of state? If anything it had us focussing more on each other than actual work.”

“Exactly.” You laughed, a quiet shriek leaving your lips as Emily tugged you into her lap, her lips capturing yours once again.

“That also means I get to make you come as many times as I want and it doesn’t matter if we’re stuck here.”

“You’ve got until noon tomorrow Prentiss, then I’ve got shit to do.”

“I guess I better get to work then.”

____________

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[theyellowroseofsodor]

TTTE Ticklish Headcanons (SFW)

So, I realized as I was writing my fanfic and the shorts as well that I seemed to have deemed most of the characters as ticklish. I dunno why, I guess I just thought it was cute. So, I figured ‘what the heck’ and decided to make a list of headcanon for the steam team plus Flying Scotsman because I love him dearly.

Thomas

Totally ticklish everywhere

His laugh isn’t the loudest, but it’s fairly loud.

Definitely snorts

Emily and Edward have taken advantage of him being ticklish when he’s having a bad day. Edward because he’s basically like Thomas’s older brother and Emily because she’s his girlfriend

Doesn’t really have a most ticklish spot, pick a spot, any spot, and he’ll be squealing in a matter of seconds

Edward

Isn’t terribly ticklish, but has a melodic laugh

James absolute LOVES Edward’s laugh

Ticklish spots are more odd/hard to get to spots (behind his knees, his neck, right underneath his ear)

James abuses the spot underneath his ears and neck all the time when he kisses him

Once he starts giggling he has a hard time stopping

Henry

Also ticklish all over but is very shy about it and about his laugh

Can’t handle hard tickling, it hurts it doesn’t tickle

Hiro isn’t the biggest tickler so Henry is safe for the most part. But when Hiro gets in a more playful mood Henry knows he isn’t safe from tickles

His worst spots are his underarms

Gordon

Super ticklish but if you try you’ll lose a finger or ten

Camille (OC) and Scotsman are the only ones who can get away with it and not be threatened with death. Actually, they are too, but they aren’t afraid

His two spots that are equally bad are his stomach and feet, but he’s fairly ticklish all over

He almost never trusts Camille to give him foot rubs. He’s always worried about her having ulterior motives

Scotsman pinned him to the ground once, when he discovered he was ticklish, and tickled him for what felt like forever. Gordon has never been so red.

He doesn’t beg to stop. He just swears vengeance.

In full denial that he’s ticklish and will deny it every time.

James

The loudest when tickled

Has been teased by all members of the steam team about it at least once

His feet are his own worse enemy, he hates how ticklish they are

Secretly loves being tickled by Edward

Edward tickles him because he knows that James loves it

Has been tickled by Edward for pouting too much or being too grumpy

Snorts when tickled, finds it horribly embarrassing

Percy

A lot like Thomas, extremely ticklish

Hasn’t been tickled a lot because he doesn’t have a significant other to try and exploit that all the time and he thanks his lucky stars for that

Him and Thomas have play fought that has involved harmless tickling in the past

Toby

The only member of the steam team that apparently isn’t ticklish

Has been theorized it’s because he’s a steam tram

If he is, Henrietta ain’t talking

When he has seen the others get tickled and see’s them laughing he thinks it’s the absolute weirdest thing

Emily

Isn’t very ticklish but will laugh hard enough if you do manage to find a spot

Her ribs are her worst spot

Thomas has been known to sneak up on her at any given time and attack.

He has totally done hit-and-runs where she’s at a station and he tickles her and then takes his engine form and runs

The Flying Scotsman

Just as bad as his brother, but fully admits it

Has a loud but gorgeous laugh

Hates having his toes tickled because he’s so tall and he isn’t flexible enough so he can’t retaliate

He is basically stuck if you can keep him from kicking

Unlike Gordon, he doesn’t care about dignity and will beg whoever’s tickling him to stop

He quickly becomes a mess and gets embarrassed about it

I’m willing to do more headcanon’s on other characters if anyone wants. But these just came to my mind. I tagged this as SFW because apparently there can be a lot of NSFW tickling things and well, I didn’t want to go there.

[randomfoggytiger]

Mulder’s Alien Baby Baby Trauma In-Depth (Part II): PTSD and Guilt Sinks In

Three Words begins (and ends) the exploration of Mulder's blooming PTSD from his abduction, torture, and resurrection (although David Duchovny offered to write an episode dedicated to this trauma, here, Chris Carter wanted to focus on more Doggett centric episodes instead.) It also explores a first in his and Scully's dynamic: his distance. And while she interprets the gulf widening between them as misapplied blame or anger towards her, Mulder is, in fact not angry at her: he's filled with self-recriminatory shame and guilt and eventual rage at the unfairness of his trauma.

Three Words, the First Glimpse

The first scene of Three Words is Mulder’s reckoning with his returning memories.  

He sits, alone, his back to the door, slowly feeling the scars on his face while flashing quick shots of his torture. Sadly, he seems to be exploring his own body in an attempt to verify if his memories are true, more and more of his hope leeching out when each flashback is confirmed by a matching scar. The Deadalive sparkle in his eyes is gone, replaced by dawning realization, somber processing, and thready anger. (That anger will play a compounding role this episode, but it also propels his ongoing antagonism of Doggett and his insubordination to Kersh.) 

Time passes, marked only by a continued mental barrage.

The scar on his chest is the final nail in the coffin; and Mulder's confused anger and initial denial--a protective measure employed in sundry circumstances (being exploited by various “allies”, Scully’s abduction and return, the death of his father, Scully’s cancer, the death of Emily, the death of his mother, etc.)-- melt away as all the pieces fit together into a gruesome, abstract puzzle of the months he spent flying around in a saucer. 

Further than that, why was he tortured then left for dead, almost turning into… what, exactly? He, Scully, Skinner, and the rest don’t know what the virus he was infected with (again) creates. What new nightmare has he walked into right as he gets the pleasure of remembering the old one? 

Mulder swallows, relying on the chair to fully support him as the enormity of his loss and fear and trauma almost overwhelm him: tears gather in his eyes, his shoulders subtly shrink back, and he tries to crunch himself into as small a space as possible (post here.) 

His grip on reality starts to slip as Mulder is sucked deeper into his head, not noticing that his arm almost falls off the hospital chair as he absently sweeps his fingers up and down his vertical scar.

Another amount of time passes with another recall-- and Mulder has lost hope. He is defeated, resigned, and spiritless. Anger and confusion have, for now, been burned away by the consuming fire of fear. He, again, swallows; but this time it’s the last gulp of an animal staring down the scope of its predator. Every other emotion pales in the face of this numbness. 

And just when he’s given up hope and cut himself off from people to wallow in his isolation and pain… Scully walks through the door. 

This scene is strikingly reminiscent of their first meeting in the Pilot and their at-odds conflictions in Deep Throat: Scully is entering Mulder’s space; and he refuses to give her all the relevant details while keeping himself emotionally distant. However, just as Scully stumbled around in Mulder’s shoes during his absence, Mulder falls flat on his face when he tries to fit he and his partner into a box they’d never inhabited after she'd told him “Logically I’d have to say no.”  

What’s interesting is Scully knows something’s up: Mulder has moved from his hospital bed-- likely for the first time, at least completely independently-- and is sitting stock still. This behavior, she knows, is a Mulder sign of distress, and usually precedes an emotional outburst. That does not happen in this scene, which is why she’s flummoxed and floundering most of this episode. 

“Mulder--”  

Another proof Mulder has disconnected from reality (see his trauma response here): Scully’s question takes him completely off guard, startling (read: scaring) him out of his PTSD recall. He bolts upright, eyes shooting open as he reorients himself, survival-mode kicking in. It’s the first time she’s truly gotten the drop on him-- usually it’s Mulder who shouts “boom” on Texan rooftops while snooping for a bomb. Mulder is so adrift and imprisoned in his mind that he didn’t even feel Scully’s presence, which has never happened since their first meeting in the Pilot. 

“-- are you okay?”

The split second between “Mulder” and “are��� is when he flips the switch: Mulder hides away his fear (like his ugly scars) and immediately slaps on a cheerful facade. It’s a technique he'd mastered for Tena Mulder in the wake of his sister's disappearance (see post here and here about their parentified dynamic) and one he had worked through and conquered with Scully. …But all that progress is, seemingly, gone; because Mulder is not only battling PTSD but also massive self-reproach. 

Mulder as a boy and as a man is instinctively wired to feel as much guilt as possible (see Typing post here, Fe Inferior), sacrificing his “normal life” to rescue Samantha and hopefully "save" his family. That guilt makes him easily manipulatable by interested parties, supposed allies, and especially by his own parents. That inherent and twisted culpability now soaks into his ailing mind, infecting his miraculous return with “why did I even leave?” internal castigations. It’s what drives him to distance himself from Scully, not allowing himself to accept her help or comfort-- he’d left her and, unknowingly, their baby; and came back scarred and broken. (Not to mention his brain disease which she and his doctor mention. Personally I nix that in my own viewing of the show-- makes no sense-- but it’s mentioned nonetheless; and is a pile-on of said bloodguiltiness.) 

Mulder tries to assure his partner with a little “Yeah”, a quip, and a jump; but even this display is marred by his inability to hold eye contact for long, not wanting to share how much he's reeling from his living nightmare with the class. 

Scully doesn’t buy it, following him around the room with her eyes. And, though she doesn’t know how studied his responses are yet, she senses that there’s something off in Mulderland.  

“I don’t quite have my legs under me,” he admits-- a lie between two truths. 

Mulder mutters a “...yet,” under his breath, continuing the pattern of seclusion. Throughout this exchange, he steps further and further into the dark corner of the room, slipping out of the light metaphorically and literally to escape further scrutiny.

How do we know guilt is Mulder's primary inhibitor and not anger at Scully for "moving on" without him? 

Let’s look at the facts. 

1. En Ami shows Mulder at his angriest with his partner. In that episode, he still gave Scully a fair hearing; and was not shy about showing how badly her behavior had affected him. He distanced himself, avoided her eyes, etc.; BUT he followed her to CSM’s mock offices and helped her unwind her thinking, even softening in his final speech to her. He does none of these things here. By contrast, Mulder at his guiltiest is very similar to him at his most furious: in One Breath, he avoided her death with rage and never admitted how much her abduction and coma had spliced him open; in Redux II he cried at her bedside but not to her face (until she was healed) and avoided reopening his wounds as much as possible in Detour. Mulder’s avoidance is born from guilt, his open disdain is born from anger; and his interactions with Scully in Three Words hinge around this avoidance instead of his go-to barefaced wrath (barring two examples when he was righteously angry at her “meddling.”) 

2. Mulder is the one putting space between himself and Scully, withholding his usual gestures of affection while eyeing her sadly and hungrily. Scully misinterprets these actions as anger against herself and is at a loss to figure out how she’s caused it. But for as much as he tries to keep away, Mulder still includes Scully in everything he does-- this scene, his welcome home, his discussion with Skinner about Kersh, his message from the basement, his Princess Cruise sleuthing, his meetup with TLG at her apartment, and his nonplussed attitude at having her in the getaway vehicle. Mulder's guilt keeps his hands at his side-- inadequate without anything to offer her-- but his anger isn't directly bent at her, and only then because he feels his place in her life is threatened by Doggett.

3. A bonus point: the script for Three Words reveals that Mulder was aware of how long Scully had been pregnant (see here-- thank you @x-files-scripts for uploading!) because he doesn't react at all to her "eight months" statement. This clarifying exchange between the two was cut to, I suppose, draw out the drama (Chris Carter and Frank Spotnitz both confirmed that they'd baited the audience with the paternity question the rest of the season, but always intended Mulder to be the father.) It's a vital piece to interpret Three Words through because, even though David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson carried that undertone with their acting (Mulder not jealous of or rejecting the baby because it's not his but because he can barely function as a person let alone a father), there was no definitive proof -- like the rest of the series-- to pinpoint it either way.

Does Mulder get angry with Scully this episode? Yes-- a sum total of twice-- post here-- and both when she tried to circumvent his wishes (i.e. a reminiscent version of One Son with TLG in her kitchen and later wanting to hide the truth from him in his best interest.) I will delve into those times in more detail in a future post; but suffice it to say, anger is not the wedge that drives Mulder away from his partner.

Mulder looks briefly sick and dizzy while turning around to sit on his hospital bed; 

but Scully’s “you might want to consider sitting down when you hear what we have to tell you” gets his full attention. He doesn’t turn fully; but he does pivot slightly, indicating that he’s listening (a familiar Mulder tick, and one I covered in my Typing post mentioned above.) 

“Uh oh,” he quips again-- but it’s a very sincere uh oh as he turns to face his fate. 

Thus begins Mulder’s cynical and caustic attempts to protect himself, wielding his usual sarcasm as a deadly weapon. Eyes hardening, mouth open to gulp in more air (a classic tell of an oncoming Mulder Panic Face), and shoulders hunched, he drills into Scully’s soul while she delivers the prognosis. As he shrinks down on the bed, Mulder also turns slightly more her direction, drawn to her as usual despite how messed up all these circumstances are. 

“It’s good news… it’s…it’s miraculous news.”

Mulder listens, tense, as Scully stumbles over her own relief, not unfolding his hunched posture; but his eyes shift: trembling and watery (not teary) in this new slam of the incredible. Then they shift again at the doctor’s “I can’t possibly exaggerate the inconceivability of you… sitting here…”, washing away his trepidacious hope with rematerializing anger. 

Scully can’t get a read on him; and her own joy takes a backseat as she begins to seriously study Mulder. 

For a brief second, the doctor’s “your condition might be more incredible than your recovery” gives Mulder a juicy mystery for his mind to chew over, a bit of that “Spooky” energy sweeping back in to chase away the darkness. This will inform his behavior over the rest of Season 8. 

His shock at Scully relating that his “neurological disorder” was healed without a trace swings that sparkle back to her; but, again, the guilt from that debacle swiftly extinguishes any celebratory mood. 

Another interesting thought: Scully verbally categorizes all of his scars while telling Mulder that they’ll heal without a trace unaffectedly; but now he shies away, hiding his cheek scars from her view by spanning his face with his hands. He hadn’t been bothered before that she’d seen or cataloged his injuries until she'd stepped out to finalize his test results and his memories returned. Now he is self-conscious and withdrawing into the dark, seeking an isolated space to privately lick his wounds. 

Mulder’s eyes lower as he presses his thumb deeper into his cheek, almost slipping back into horrendous memories; but as Scully rattles off his other injuries he realizes that the scars can’t be hidden, and gives up the game. His eyes, however, remain lowered. 

He snaps back up when Scully continues: “--they seem to  be repairing themselves….” There is no relief, however, on his face. 

“Mulder, you are in perfect health.” 

Pivoting back to his partner, the desolation in his eyes has only burrowed deeper. 

It's this moment that the solidifying disconnect inside Mulder cements: he has evidence of his abduction and trauma, but that evidence will vanish like most other X-Files; his mission was a failure, and he's been returned (he thinks) a broken disgrace; his skeptical partner and their boss carried on the work (he thinks) successfully without him; and he's missed most of his own child's miraculous development. Where does he fit in?

The occasion calls for a jovial reaction; and Mulder tries best: twitching his eyebrow up briefly and breathing out a “...Wow.” 

It doesn’t work, only further increasing Scully���s worry for him. 

“How do you feel, Agent Mulder?” the doctor questions. 

Inane medical questions are old hat for resurrected Golden Boy, and he slips into easy quips as naturally as he does breathing: “...Like Austin Powers.” 

The smirk he gives Scully is devoid of real humor other than light acknowledgement-- completely opposite to the warmth and mischief Mulder graced her with when he first woke up. 

Scully’s rejoining smirk is just as humorless; and both of them sink into a deflating vacuum of unspoken trauma and pain. 

Again, Mulder turns inward to reflect, keeping his more genuine, unsatisfied, and self-deprecating sneer to himself. 

And thus ends Part 1 of Mulder’s trauma.  

Next part will focus heavily on how Mulder knew the baby was his and how that affects his actions in the next few scenes (and the rest of the series.) 

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

[spenciegoob]

The 4 Types of Manipulation

A/N: hey hey hey cuties... just thought I’d drop in to tell you I love you and Harry Styles at the Grammy’s, oh and Miley Cyrus in general. Okay that’s it.

Summary: Spencer has to interrogate an unsub, but she has a few tricks up her sleeve.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem Unsub!Reader

Category: Not fluff, but not angst... angsty fluff? fluffy angst?

Content Warning: mentions of murder, manipulation, mentions of sex in the form of flirting, mentions of drug use, mentions of emotional abuse

Masterlist

Word Count: 2.8K

____

Nobody dared to take a breath out of place, every profiler was packed into the room watching with careful eyes at the sobbing girl in the interrogation room through the glass. No one knew what their first step should be, but I guess there’s a first time for everything, right? Winging it was not something anyone in the BAU enjoyed doing, each case needed a thought out plan.

But they’ve seen this unsub before, they know the profile, the history, they know her. So why was she crying so hard that the weight of her head became unbearable, leaving her only option to sob into the crooks of her elbows as best as she could with wrists cuffed to the table?

Nobody knew, except for Spencer Reid.

Emily was hesitant, as expected, to blindly send in one of the best agents she’s ever seen into the room that with each tear shed slowly morphed into a lion’s den. Reid deserved better, she knew that, especially since the last time they dealt with an unsub like this one, Spencer had to be so far out of the loop that the case almost broke him.

He put up a good fight though, and if the determination set in his eyes wasn’t enough to inform the unit chief that she was not winning this argument, his deviance to storm through the door, startling the young woman chained down definitely did.

Why was it always Spencer?

Tears:

“P-please, I didn’t do anything.” Those were the first words anyone’s heard her say since the arrest, even if they were separated by sniffles and choked out sobs. 

Spencer just stared down at her, not taking the risk to further entertain the stuttering girl with wet cheeks and tired eyes.

“I promise I’m not a murderer. You have to believe me, please.” That promise whispered so quietly made with unbreakable eye contact urged him to take a second to reevaluate the situation.

She was apprehended in place of Jacob Hughes, the man they had originally been looking for. There was a chance she wasn’t complicit, a chance she was innocent. Maybe Jacob placed a hair of hers at the latest crime scene because he knew they were closing in.

Or maybe she is just as sick as he is. 

“Prove it,” Spencer said, his tone loud and assertive, leaving no room for argument. She didn’t plan on fighting his demand anyway.

“I- I haven’t seen Jacob for days. He drugged those men, and did h-horrible things. Those poor men.” This struck a nerve, everybody could tell, even the one person in this interaction that wasn’t a profiler. 

Spencer’s shoulders tensed for a millisecond, but she saw it. She saw what her words were doing to him, after all, he used to be one of those poor men she felt so sorry for.

Another loud sob echoed off the concrete walls before she bit her bottom lip and took a deep breath.

“I can’t believe he mur... did that to them. H-how could he?” Spencer watched as the young girl looked up to him like he held the answer to the million dollar question. He studied the way her eyes bounced around his face, looking for something, anything to relieve some confusion when it came to her fiancé.

“Jacob Hughes is what we call a vindictive narcissist and a sadist. He receives pleasure from hurting others, and in this case, drugging and torturing men because he feels he’s been wronged his whole life. The question, however, is why. I know you know, just like how I know you’re aware of his crimes.”

It was a blow so low it could’ve come from hell itself. Spencer regretted it immediately when he watched the way her whole body stiffened at the mention of her knowledge, but he had to be certain no matter the fallout.

“I-I still don’t understand. I’ve never seen him hurt anyone.” Denial, guilt and fear all jam packed into 3 little words that had his heart dangerously close to breaking. The sorrow in her eyes believable enough that Spencer left his standing position between the suspect and the door to sit directly across from her.

She watched his movements with careful eyes, only stealing glances from her peripherals before returning to her cuffed wrists.

“Maybe you’ve never seen him physically hurt anyone, but we know what he does to you.” It was the first and only time Spencer let any emotion, as fake as it was, show in his responses. How could he not try when the girl resumed her sobbing at the implication of her past deception from the man she loves? 

“You know nothing,” she whispered back, her tone laced with defensive anger.

“I know everything.” Was he challenging her?

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Was she challenging him?

“You know what it means.” Yes, he was.

“Do I?” Yes, she was.

The two stared at each other for the entire tone shift in the stuffy interrogation room. The other profilers on the other side of the mirror had no knowledge of how thick the tension had just become because unlike Spencer, they weren’t standing in the middle of it.

Small sniffles were the only noise breaking through the quiet until suddenly, they just stopped.

“Ugh, fine! You win this round. My eyes are starting to hurt from all this goddamn crying. Do people actually cry this much when you arrest them?”

Spencer leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms to clearly convey just how unamused he was with the girl’s antics. She watched him intently, picking apart every move down to the muscle trying to search for any indicators that her little performance worked even a fraction of what she was hoping for.

And she got her wish in the form of the agent’s fingers tapping lightly at his sides under perfectly muscular, if she may add, arms, because any other movement would have been too obvious.

Spencer Reid was getting nervous, because the second her facade faded, he lost the upper hand. She just had to get him trapped in here.

“Oh come on. Not even a ‘good job’? I wasn’t expecting full blown applause, but some appreciation for that show would be nice.” Still, Spencer gave her nothing. He needed her to keep talking, and filling silence was a sure way to make certain she did just that.

“I’ll tell you what you need to know, but first you have to admit that I had you fooled for a second there.”

Lies:

“No.” Unexpectedly, instead of getting frustrated with Spencer’s refusal to play along, she just smiled brighter. This was exciting to her, and it was getting on his nerves.

“What gave it away? Did I look to the left before I spoke or something?” Spencer kept his mouth shut. “Come on, what’s my tell? Enlighten me.”

She copied his movements as Spencer leaned over the cool, metal table slightly, eyes racking over her face, lingering on certain parts for longer than others.

“No.” At this, she huffed back in her seat, leaving the close proximity that would later be used as a secret tool against the doctor before he had the chance to catch on. 

“If you’re just going to shut down every single one of my proposals, then why am I here?”

“You’re here because you’re a suspect in a series of 7 murders in the past 5 weeks.” She perked up at his words, amusement dripping from her features.

“Finally, Doc has something more to say than just ‘no.’ Tell me, was that so hard?”

“No.”

“Ugh!” Rolling her eyes would be giving ammo to the enemy, but the urge to do so was quite strong. In fact, she almost did until she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the one way mirror.

“I’m serious when I say this,” she said, looking directly into Spencer’s eyes so he couldn’t accuse her of lying. “If you take the cuffs off, I’ll answer everything.”

“No.”

“Please! They’re seriously starting to hurt. I put 100% into that performance, and now it’s coming back to bite me in the-”

“Fine!” Spencer stood up carefully, not walking around the table until he was certain the girl wasn’t a flight risk, or worse. When he did finally make his way over, she sat completely still, not taking her eyes off where his fingers grazed hers as the handcuffs unlocked.

A breath of relief escaped her as she rubbed her wrists with the opposite hands, eventually feeling the blood fully return to all 10 fingers.

“Thank you.” It was so vulnerable and raw that it knocked Spencer back for a second. They locked eyes, and something deeper than he was ready for passed between them.

He didn’t know what it was, all he knew was that he hated it so much that he tore his eyes away immediately to return back to his original spot seated across from her.

“Answer me this-”

“I’m gonna stop you right there.” Neither of them spoke for far too much time, and Spencer was growing more annoyed by the second.

“What?” It came out harsh, and mean, and downright cruel, but he couldn’t care less.

“Oh nothing, I just wasn’t going to answer anything. I really just wanted to fix my hair.” And, in being true to her words this time, she secured her hair into a messy bun using the elastic Spencer didn’t even realize was missing from his wrist.

“I’m putting the cuffs back on.”

“No wait,” she pleaded, halting Spencer’s move to get up. “They really did hurt, I wasn’t lying about that.”

“I don’t care.” He made his way over, forcefully grabbing both of her wrists before securing the handcuffs back on. Spencer only regretted his actions slightly when she winced at the metal now back to pressing into her skin.

“Yes you do. It’s your biggest flaw.” Instead of answering, Spencer just returned to his seat, leaning back with crossed arms. He didn’t need to listen to a psychopath tell him his flaws.

“You care too much,” she continued, not minding if he was listening or not. “It gets you hurt, other people hurt. I wish that wasn’t the case. You deserve better, Doc.”

Spencer didn’t engage, opting to gawk tiredly at the suspect, and watch the way her eyes flicker across his features, gauging for a reaction. She wasn’t done.

“Hey, okay, fine. I’m just messing with you,” she laughed, finally breaking her serious facade. “What? A girl can’t joke around while she’s being accused of murder?”

“Accused? Or caught?”

“Accused.” It was final, her tone immediately dropping to a fiery rage. Her defenses were up, and Spencer was never really good at playing on the offensive team.

This time, it was Spencer’s turn to analyze, watching the way the blood rushed to her cheeks with her rising anger level. How all of a sudden her eyes lost their playful glint, giving him the chance to fully see the soul buried deep in them. For a split second, she was completely unveiled right before his eyes.

Spencer, clearly not anticipating just how long the girl in front of him could hold her own, used his last bullet.

He placed the crime scene photos in front of her.

“You know who did this.” It wasn’t a question, he saw it in her eyes. Spencer watched the way they remained stoic even after looking at the bloody walls, and vacant eyes of the deceased.

“No.” Oh, how the tables have turned.

“Who are you protecting?” Her head shot up at his question, eyes flashing red before she blinked it away again. Subconsciously, she started to pick at her fingernails.

“No one.” It was a lie if he’s ever heard one. 

Fear:

“You’re lying. Who is it?” 

“I’m not lying.” She wouldn’t even make eye contact with him. Instead, she gave her undivided attention to her shaky hands confined to the table.

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not!”

“Enough! Who are you protecting?!” At this, Spencer stood up and slammed his hands against the table with a strong amount of force that she flinched hard enough to further irritate her wrists.

He felt awful, the bouncing back and forth between them should have given him enough indicators that she wasn’t lying out of spite. But he couldn’t back down, he had her cornered and her only way out was to tell the truth.

“No one.” She wouldn’t look at him, even as she whispered. “Please stop.”

Spencer truly believed that he had her in a bind, an inescapable one at that, but it wasn’t the truth. Oh no, what the profiler failed to realize was she had him where she needed him.

“I have no information to give you,” she whispered before tagging along. “I’m sorry.” It was the first time she apologized for something Spencer could have seen as an inconvenience.

He believed her, too.

“I shouldn’t have yelled.” That was his form of an apology. Spencer wasn’t going to go any further with it, even if she was coerced into lying by whoever the true unsub is, she was still getting on his nerves.

Her hands were still shaking at this point, and she wouldn’t meet his eyes. Spencer just slumped back into his seat, settling into the silence between them until ultimately he was either called out of the room, or she gave him another indication that her game hasn’t ended.

A loud sigh bounced off the walls. “I don’t care that you yelled in my face. You think it’s the first time a man’s done that? You’re not special, Doctor.”

“I never said I was.” So the game carries on, but this time, she didn’t smile at his sarcastic response. Leaning back in her chair, she huffed a breath before continuing.

“You really want to be though, don't you?”

Lust:

She was pushing his buttons, trying so hard to dig under his skin till she was unremovable. She wanted Spencer to leave this room with her on his mind for the rest of his days.

She was close too.

“No, I don’t,” Spencer deadpanned, trying to keep a cool tone. If he continued to hand her the ammunition she needed, he would be left defenseless.

“Oh come on, loosen up. I was just joking.”  A smirk grew across her features, a thought crossing her eyes. One Spencer knew would not be in favor of his win tonight. “I could help you with that, you know.”

“No, I don’t know.” He did. Spencer wasn’t going to lie to himself and say that the woman sitting across the table wasn’t extremely attractive; she was. He just would never admit it aloud.

“I have a feeling you like to get rough, don’t you, Doctor?” She asked, sitting up and crossing her legs. The stare shared between the two of them was a mix between passion and anger, meeting in the middle to create a new kind of emotion.

“Is this fun for you?” She left out bait, and Spencer was stupid enough to fall for it. Emily once said that a pretty face slashed his IQ in half.

He couldn’t help but agree.

“Undo these cuffs, and I’ll show you what fun is.” She was toying with him now, and they weren’t going to get anywhere, but Spencer couldn’t find it within himself to get up and leave. She had him by the...

“I’m going to get that confession.” It was like he was five years old again, arguing on the playground with the older kids about how their insults didn’t make sense.

“What’re you going to do, punish me?” She asked, the last words in a hushed whisper. When Spencer’s cheeks grew hotter, and his eyes darker, she knew she had him.

“You do like to get rough! My, my, Doctor, you're keeping me at the edge of my seat here.” She let out a boisterous laugh before really digging the knife deeper. “Is that why you kept the cuffs on?”

Before he could snap back, the door flew open and Emily stood there with a tablet in her hand. “You need to see this.”

Spencer got up to leave, thankful for the reprieve even if he did have to return to the interrogation after speaking with Emily. He almost made it to the door before a voice called out behind him.

“Wait!” She called after him, the cuffs rattled when she instinctively went to reach for Spencer. “Aren’t you going to answer my question, Doctor.”

Playing chess his whole life, Spencer had never once played a game where Checkmate presented itself unexpectedly. He was always at least three moves ahead in his mind, seeing the inevitable end before he even began his gameplay. There was a first for everything, because his last move suddenly arose.

“No.”

_____

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[writing-in-april]

The 5 Stages of Grief

Stage one: Denial (1/5)

Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader (Spencer POV)

Summary: Spencer going through each of the stages of grief after the death of the reader. Stage one is denial.

A/N: Hi guys this is my new series!! I’ve been working on this for like the past two months and I’m excited to start sharing it with y’all! This is based off of my own recent experiences with how I acted in my grief and this fic is just based on one model of how grief can present itself. This story is gonna be sad throughout and there’ll be a lot of trigger warnings as a heads up. This is also written different from my other works and is very sporadic at times because of Spencer’s mind set. There’s a lot of repetitive thoughts by Spencer so some sentences are repeated two to three times. And, there’s lots of rhetorical questions. I’m going to post a chapter once a week and sprinkle in other fics in between- other chapters are gonna be longer this is just the establishing chapter. Also let me know if you want the playlist I used while writing this- some Billie eilish references definitely are in here...And thanks to @zhuzhubii for helping me with the original idea and inspiring me (they write amazing angst). Requests are open and thanks for reading!

Warnings ⚠️: Reader death, Gunshot wound, Unreliable narrator, Spencer spiraling, Spencer getting violent, Unhinged Spencer, Talks of schizophrenic break

Main Masterlist | 5 Stages of Grief Masterlist

Word count: 1.2k

This was not happening. There was no way this was happening. This was just some sort of alternative reality or maybe a dream. Maybe I’m having a psychotic break- those were common with people who have early signs of schizophrenia right?

I wasn’t sure of anything in the few minutes that had passed since I had seen the light go out from their eyes. I was still cradling their body covered in blood, they had been shot by the unsub they had been pursuing down a back alley. I didn’t really care where the unsub had gone all my mind was focusing on was the fact that they wouldn’t wake up.

“No no no… You’re fine- stay with me! Please!”

I hadn’t even had the privilege of hearing their last words, they had closed their eyes before I had even pulled them to my lap. They still had words left in the brain that I admired, it didn’t matter that they hadn’t said anything, that they didn’t get their ‘last words’ because they would awaken again. I had to believe that.

My breathing was heavy and shaky as I laid them down on the ground to start CPR. It was the only way they were going to survive the trip to the hospital once the rest of the team got here. I wonder if they could have understood the situation with how distraught I sounded on the phone. When I started the chest compressions my hands wouldn’t stop trembling, I could barely keep the compressions at a steady pace. My mental metronome was fracturing as I started to become more frightened for the love of my life.

“Fight, please! Don’t give up!”

I felt their ribs cracking as I tried to continue my steady pace of the CPR despite my alarm. I looked for a pulse, there was a faint fluttering heart beat. Right? Yes, there was a heartbeat, I was sure of it. My ears rang like there were church bells in my ears which were soon joined by faint sirens I could hear barely in the distance as I begged for them to stay with me. I wanted to tell them that it was gonna be alright and remind them of less painful times, but the only things I could manage to say in my distressing state were pleas.

A sharp cry of No! that sounded like it was my voice rang out in the air when I started to feel myself being pulled away by a set of hands. When the hands still refused to budge I fought hard, seeing only red. I thought it was the unsub coming back to finish me off. Another set of hands joined the original pair to try and haul me away from the one I loved. Did the unsub have a partner? How could we have missed that? I had to get back to them, what if they hurt them more? What if they killed them?

“Spencer! It’s me! It’s Morgan!” The words shouted at me by someone that sounded like Morgan seemed so far away. It felt like my head was underwater, drowning in the panic and sorrow that was filling up my lungs. Everything else fell away as unimportant with only one goal in my mind crawling to the forefront.

I had to help them.

“SPENCER!” A female voice shouted hoarsely, which made me focus somewhat. Why were they yelling at me? Why weren’t they helping them? I wasn’t the one that needed help.

My eyes unblurred as I forced my rage to dissipate slightly in an attempt to figure out what was going on, the figures of Morgan and Emily then became recognizable to me. I registered that it was actually their hands on me. Both of them were in defensive positions and Emily looked frightened of me? Why would she be frightened of me? Why weren’t they helping them?

I still wasn’t confident that this wasn’t some elaborate alternate reality concocted by my subconscious. There was no reason for Emily to be afraid of me, we were colleagues and more importantly friends. All I was trying to do was help and I seemed to be the only one who cared enough to help my injured partner.

But, I realized there was in fact a reason for Emily to be scared of me. She was trying to prevent me from helping the most important person in my life, who was bleeding out on the pavement, close to death. And, the whole team knew I would fight like hell to protect them, she’s lucky I didn’t fight her and Morgan off more. They were lucky they’d only get a possible faint bruise from my thrashing, rather than what I really wanted to do to them in retaliation for preventing me from helping them.

Though, I had now realized that the hands tugging me away from their hurt body did not in fact belong to two unsubs, I started to try and fight them off again.The paramedics would need to know their medical history- especially their blood type.

I had to help them. Why weren’t they helping them?

A soft voice filled with sorrow then joined the rest that I knew belonged to JJ, “Spencer, I know you want to help, but the paramedics are the best thing for them. I already gave them their medical history.”

My body relaxed some at JJ’s words, glad that the paramedics now had the proper tools to help them. However, my mind was still racing, analyzing everything that had happened so far at a rapid pace. My mind then fixated on JJ’s tone of voice- Why did it sound so resigned? Why did she sound like she was resigned to the fact that there was nothing the paramedics could feasibly do? I may not have been in the best mental state, but I could still read the underlying meaning in her voice.

No they couldn’t be gone.

I had to help them.

Why was nobody helping them?

One of the paramedics moved forward to check their pulse as was routine and I breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, someone was helping them. My hope was dashed when I saw them shake their head to their colleague, panic rose even higher within me. I was sure I was going to drown to death soon myself, all breath had completely left my body at this point.

They couldn’t be gone, I refused to believe that.

I couldn’t believe it.

I couldn’t be left alone again. When I first met them they helped me from plunging into darkness, they had pulled me from the edges of the abyss. I would be weaker than ever before if they left me, I don’t think I could survive it. My mind begged for them to fight, maybe my reasons were selfish, but the water was going to drown me soon.

As I saw the bag zipped up that held their body my blood ran cold when reality hit me hard. Morgan and Emily both had to hold me back again from racing back over to their body that was being put into the coroner’s van. I screamed in desperation, begging and pleading for them to not give up, that there must be something that they could do. But, the cold harsh reality hung over me like a dark cloud that rained over my head, fully submerging me underwater.

There was no denying it anymore.

They were gone.

—-

Tag list (message me if you want to be added):

All works:

@shotarosleftpinky @oreogutz

Spencer Reid/CM:

@calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss

5 stages of grief series:

@joonie-centric @tatesimper @half-blood-dork

[onlyhereforangst]

I think Emily made the decision last minute to leave. One thing I noticed is that Katrina laws character was introduced as a mother with a stay at home husband in all the reports in March. Originally she was cast to replace Maria Bello so she did not need to be a potential love match for Torres. I think in this time from when her character was first introduced in the press(March) to when she stepped foot on set Emily made the decision to leave.This is why the writing team changed the premise of Jessica Knight to form a replacement for the Ellick ship because it was at this time they knew it wouldn't be happening anymore as Emily would be leaving. Thus, they decided to make Jessica knight a possible love match for Torres to replace the void from Ellick. It seems to be too much of a coincidence and also her first episode her and Torres were very flirty. Also, Wilmer did a ton of interviews about the finale saying grab your tissues and this is the closest to a friendship or a relationship they are ever going to have so he hinted prior to the finale that the Ellick ship was doomed. It is driving me mad that we had no clear picture of what their relationship was after the elevator talk. I think they got together as Ellie said 'I never meant for us to happen' but then she felt guilty because she knew she was leaving and 'blew him off' as he said without reason. That seems to be the most logical assumption. What do you think?

ok so i've let this sit for two weeks, i apologize. i still have a hard time digging into this stuff specifically because i like to live in denial that Emily isn't returning. i can bargain the remainder of the finale away if i forget that Emily isn't coming back. but i'm having a particularly depressive day in regards to her exit so why the hell not twist the knife a little harder and clear out my inbox 🙃 imma put it under the cut though for aesthetically-appeasing dash purposes and long posts

first- i 100% agree that Emily's decision to leave was a last minute *announcement* and i clarify that because i have to genuinely believe that Emily wouldn't take this decision lightly knowing her fanbase. i of course could be wrong about that, but even if i come off as a bitch to people i do like to give people the benefit of the doubt, always. so while I do think Emily didn't come into this decision willy-nilly (and i'm not going to speculate on her reasons for leaving- it's her own life she can choose to live it however she pleases), it does feel as if she didn't announce it to the show until, IMO after they wrapped all filming.

the finale was certainly more akin to a multi-episode arc for a character and plotline, not a final exit episode. Wilmer boasted great cliffhangers and a tear-filled episode because yes, they thought Ellie was ditching and betraying the team- that's heavy angst stuff! And yes we got a taste of ellick being *real* and even got a kiss- of course in his interviews he thought this was going to be good stuff for the fans. all the actors (Wilmer especially though) and the main social media accounts of the show did a shit-ton of promotion for the episodes leading up to the finale and then after 18x15 aired, the week prior everyone and i mean everyone went radio silent. i'm sorry but who THE FUCK does that when you are supposedly airing this big action-filled, cliffhanger, "true" finale that we deserved because s17 didn't get to have one??? NO ONE. the answer is no one. shows that want ratings (aka all shows, it’s a business) promote their fucking finale. they fucking do. my theory? in between that last week, Emily announced to the cast/crew/EPs that she wouldn’t be returning for s19. and then that leaves them with a WTF finale because that’s a shitty write off for a character who spent 8 years on the show. and now, suddenly, the show would prefer as little as viewership as possible to help minimize the backlash. Wilmer does absolutely zero promotion, zero farewell to his co-actor and good friend of 5 years. so yeah, i think her last minute exit was a last minute announcement and it had everyone reeling, understandably. hopefully one day we’ll get answers on the why because between me and you- that’s what absolutely fucking destroys me. for both the actress and the character; not knowing why Ellie did what she did and feeling a little betrayed Emily left and we got so little why and acknowledgement and heads up for it. 

anyways, so i don’t think Wilmer was lying in those interviews, i think he was truly excited about the arc and what that meant for their characters. he could have been just as blindsided with her announcement as we were 🥺

as for Katrina Law’s character- that is a little intriguing because you’re right, when she was initially introduced it was as a married woman with an infant child and stay at home husband. zero of this has been mentioned and Katrina Law herself has taken to twitter with Diona to support a Kasie/Jessica ship. so i’m not sure what her background is, if they writers changed it at all or what. BUT i don’t see them putting Jessica and Nick together. I actually didn’t see those scenes as them flirting at all- more of falling into step as good pals, very reminiscent of Ziva and Nick’s relationship frankly. If Emily’s announcement of her leaving truly was last minute, to everyone including the show, I don’t see the writers and EPs putting them together. I see them scrambling to fix their destroyed cliffhanger arc they had teed up and likely writing a desolate Nick or a vengeful swan Nick. I do not see them giving him a new love interest *unless* they decide to go 2 for 2 with character assassinations and have him regress so far and erase all his growth. but you know who the fuck knows with this shit show 🥲🥲

ok and finally ahaha this is why i did a cut. can y’all imagine what will happen if/when i ever do a wwr? 😅 i’m in the boat that they were *not* a thing, ever. i’m in the boat that that was their first kiss. and i’ll probably break this down more at a later date, TBD because when the fuck will i be strong enough to rewatch the entire finale i almost cried this morning watching 13x10. BUT her “i didn’t mean for us to happen” to me was more of a i didn’t mean for us to slowly fall in love and go from partners to best friends to almost lovers. because i think they both acknowledged their feelings during The Talk™️ but i feel like they both mutually agreed that they needed to take it slow or weren’t sure how to take that next step and they sort of tabled the discussion and stalled in their relationship. then, (since i’m in the camp that Ellie did none of this fully willingly, and instead Odette is holding something over her) Ellie “blew him off” after Odette decided it was now (”now...wasn’t my choice” aka i think Odette got worried about Ellie having strings attached and weaknesses) by saying they should definitely take it slow because of the nature of their jobs (”if we had a normal 9-5″...”i get that, i do”). i think Nick accepted that excuse at the time and then when the pieces clicked at the end of the finale, he realized this whole stupid ass mission was the reason she tried to slow them down/push him away. all that to say, i’m still believing that was their first kiss until Ellie turns up pregnant with Nick’s kid because WHY NOT REUSE OLD STORYLINES WHY THE FUCK NOT WE’VE ALREADY COME THIS FAR. 

[whump-town]

This ones for @clockedstar, I hope you love it 

Man Flu

Hotchniss, sickfic, 3,000+ words

On most mornings, the sound of Aaron’s alarm wakes her. Dave bought him this strange little get-up that vibrates on the nightstand instead of filling the air with a shrill, ear rattling sound. It was a Christmas present the year the New York bombing happened. She can’t complain, she prefers the little alarm clock to her own.

As stated, though, most mornings the alarm wakes her but today that’s not the case. 

The bed dips as Aaron’s weight is suddenly shifted on the mattress. Her momentary annoyance with the fact that her personal furnace has been pulled away is overcome by worry as said furnace jostles the bed with the force of the wet, heaving coughs leaving his diaphragm.

“Hotch,” she sits up and puts a hand on his back, surprised to find sweat has soaked through the thin Hanes shirt he’d put on before climbing into bed beside her last night. “Jesus,” she mumbles, pulling away. After her momentary shock she moves closer, the back of her hand pressing against his cheek. “Aaron, you’re burning up!” It’s understatement considering the way his skin burns her hand.

He shakes his head, stifling his coughs as best as he can to gasp out, “I’m okay.” 

She frowns at the back of his head. “You have a fever,” her tone shifts to aggravation, the kind of I’m putting my foot down on this that he knows all too well. “You’re sick.” That’s how things work with Aaron Hotchner-- that’s not to say she’s not the exact same way. Ailments are a pain, their normal pain with the additional wear and tear that comes refusing to admit to being sick.

His chest is killing him and he’s unable to stifle the new wave of coughing fits. As they go on, he grows lightheaded and his throat raw. He has to grab on to the bed’s backboard as he loses control of his body. 

“That’s it,” Emily decides, throwing the comforter off of her body as she gets out of the bed. “You,” she says, pointedly at the man looking at her with red-rimmed fever glazed eyes. “Do not move. I will be right back.” She doesn’t bother putting on pants, she’s wearing one of his shirts and it covers her bare skin to about her mid-thigh. “I am going to call Dave and tell him we’re not coming in. I’ll be back with medicine.”

He’s not given the chance to form a rebuttal before she leaves the room.

She should have seen this coming. For the last four days they’ve been on a high-stakes scene-- three girls ranging in age from six to four, left stabbed and violated in the woods for joggers to find. It had been the kind of case that none of them let up on. No sleep or food until someone else is forcing them to take a break.

What should have been the precursor to his current status, was the night he spent in the cold in nothing but his suit jacket as rain poured over them. He’d been unwavering despite their days of no sleep. On the jet, he’d been silent but mid-flight she’d startled as his head fell on her shoulder. 

He never sleeps on the jet and, for Hotch, that would be PDA-- a big no in his book.

He’s been off for hours and she didn’t notice. Guilt settles in her stomach and she feels queasy. He would have noticed. Hell, he wouldn’t have let her stand in the pouring rain without a jacket. He would have wrapped her up in a blanket when she fell asleep on the jet. 

God, she’s a shitty girlfriend.

Her call goes to Dave’s voicemail but she’d been expecting that. She leaves him a short message, the kind that she hopes sparks his curiosity enough for him to call later. It will, undoubtedly. She’s just informed him that she and Aaron are both sick and taking the day off, two things that never happen.

Well, not completely true. She and Aaron get sick a lot but unlike a normal person they both refuse to admit that they’re sick. 

Armed with Tylenol, she’s expecting to be met with his usual level of denial. 

She’d prefer it to the numb compliance she’s faced with.

“Aaron.” He’s managed to pull himself back into bed, curled into his side with a frown tugging his handsome features down. Sweat is sleek across his forehead and a pained frown has slipped onto his face. “Wake up, baby.” His breathing is ragged and wrong. It sounds like he’s breathing through a waterlogged straw. If that doesn’t improve, sooner rather than later, she’s going to have to drag him to the hospital. 

Slowly, his eyes blink open and he looks miserable. “I need you to take some medicine.” She has to guide the water bottle to his lips and that worries her more than she knows how to express. “Aaron…” she doesn’t want to fight him on this but there’s something about the way he’s looking at her right now that tells her he won’t fight if she suggests the hospital. 

“I don’t feel good.”

Her chest tightens, her throat feeling rubbed raw by words she didn’t speak. She settles herself on the edge of the mattress, smiling sadly when he moves to curl himself around her. “I know,” she whispers, carding her hand through his sweat soaked hair. She’s not sure how to comfort him. They haven’t been at this-- their relationship-- long enough for her to have cracked him.

She knows what she would want.

“Scoot,” she bumps him lightly with her hip, the only warning she gives before throwing her lips over his side and climbing back into bed. Caught in the haze of fever and the normal amount of confusion he has when talking to her, he just lays there as she moves atop him. 

Settling down beside him she opens her arms, “come here.” 

He coughs, wetly. He doesn’t move, just looks at her in confusion. After a moment, coming to the safe conclusion that he’s not just going to settle himself in her arms, she frowns. Right, she should have seen that coming. The thing is, he’s pretty clingy when he’s hurt or sick so he wants to be held, he's just not going to go crawling into her arms.

“Please?” 

Sitting up is harder than it should be and if she could, she would just get up and move closer to him. However it’s not going to help his congested lungs for her to come lay on his chest. So, he complies. Slowly but surely, he manages to sit up. The world, their room, dips and spins in a way that makes his head pound. He’s partially aware of Emily calling his name, her hands guiding him back down until his ear meets her chest.

He coughs as his body moves, limping going in the direction she pulls him. He chokes on a sigh, wheezing miserably as his inhale catches in his throat. “We’re gonna be late,” he rasps, shivering with the chills her cold skin sends down his back. He’s resigned to her touch and hums softly when she tucks the comforter back around his body.

She buries one hand in his hair, the other rubbing up and down his back. Judging by the way his eyelashes flutter, it’s working to soothe him back to sleep. “I already called Dave,” she supplies softly, attempting to jog his memory of the conversation they had not even five minutes before. “He knows you’re sick.”

He hums, grimacing with a moan as another shiver runs down his body. “It’s… ‘m not-- ‘m not sick.” He clears his throat, triggering a soft coughing fit that he doesn’t have the energy to stop or exert the force to expel the congestion in his lungs. “Fine-- ‘m fine.”

Emily keeps rubbing circles on his back, ignoring his soft protest. “I know,” she soothes, knowing better than to argue with him. Sick or not. “Just get some sleep, you’ll feel better in a little bit.”

She can feel the rattle of congestion lodged deep in his lungs each time he inhales. His breathing is picking up despite the fact that he’s falling asleep. Instead of his heart calming and his breathing slowing, he sounds worse. She wishes she knew what to do. 

He always knows what to do. 

She holds him close to her chest, gently scratching his scalp and rubbing his back. It’s all she knows how to do. The tylenol should help with the fever and, maybe if she can convince him, a bath might help too. It leaves her so bothered, so anxious that she’s not able to help him that she can’t go back to sleep. 

The time slips away slowly and all she can do is sit and listen. 

She just sits and listens.

Dave calls at six, he’s just getting out of bed himself and is a mix of too sleep-deprived and brain fogged to fully understand the message in his voicemail. It’s more alarming than anything else. Emily is frantic, the worry lacing her voice is nerve wracking-- Emily Prentiss is nothing but calm and collected. And she’d said something about one of them being sick?

“Hey, kiddo!” He wedges the phone between his shoulder and chin, scrubbing his hand down his face in effort to wake himself. “I just got your message--”

Emily feels the tension leaving her shoulders, the pain in her neck easing. “Dave,” she sighs. She freezes when she feels Hotch tense, afraid she’s managed to wake him up. He wheezes something intangible under his breath and with a mangled sigh goes limp in her arms.

“Teresa,” Dave replies and she can hear the fond smile in his voice. 

Emily resumes rubbing Aaron’s back, hoping to keep him sleeping while she talks to Dave. “Aaron’s sick,” she informs him, keeping her voice low. “I need your help,” she clears her throat. She forces her voice to even back out. “He’s got a high fever.” She kicks herself for not checking his temperature earlier. “He’s congested,” she chews on her bottom lip. “I can hear him breathing.”

Dave hums on the other end. “He’s congested,” he deduces. The good news is, he knows how to help with that but his method is really only applicable for babies. He is not so sure it’ll work the same magic on a grown man. “My nonna used to steam us,” he explains, “boil some water in a pot and have him put a towel or blanket over his head to force the steam into his lungs.” As soon as he’s said it, he realizes that those instructions alone are not going to be enough for the raging path of destruction that Aaron Hotchner and Emily Prentiss leave in their wake.

“Let the water cool off,” he warns, a sudden tension headache forming behind his eyes. “Please do not burn him or yourself.”

Emily rolls her eyes. Dave always treats them like children. “Okay.” Secretly, of course, she’s thrilled to have a solution. One that’s better than the one Dave is offering. She knows for a fact that there is a vaporizer in Jack’s room. It’s currently buried in its original boxing under a hefty stack of chapter books but they have one. The vaporizer is a way better idea than Dave’s boiling water just waiting to go wrong.

“How is he,” Dave inquires. Aaron’s got to be pretty bad off to let Emily take care of him. 

Emily looks down at the man in her arms. With a shrug she replies, “he looks like shit.” She means it in the nicest way she can possibly think of. It’s not to tear him down or even insult him. He just looks bad and each wheezing breath he takes is nerve wracking. 

Hotch is more or less aware of what’s going on around him. Enough to hear Emily talking to Dave-- traitor. 

“Yeah well,” Dave can understand that. He’s known Aaron long enough to see that when something gets that man down he doesn’t let up until it’s gone or nearly crippled by it. That principle goes for more than just UNSUBs… it’s right up his alley to let a simple cold brew into pneumonia. 

“Color me surprised,” he mumbles. He lets out a sigh, shaking his head. That boy… “Well, I’ve got to get ready. Take care of our boy, huh?”

Emily looks down at said boy and shakes her head. There’s a fat chance in hell she’s going to be able to have this stubborn ass man healthy by tomorrow but she’ll give it a try. “Alright.”

“I’ll call you at lunch but don’t be afraid to call if you need anything before then. Okay, bella? Take care of yourself, I love you.”

He’s gone before she can share the sentiment. 

Her chest is tight from the affection, her cheeks flushed. She loves Dave too and she knows Aaron shares that with her. He’s been a large contributor in their lives for a long time. A father… a lot of the time. 

“Shit?” She startles from her thoughts, frowning down at the man who she’d previously thought asleep. “Do I really look like shit?” His voice is a deep tangled mess of his normal husky morning sound with the addition of his inability to breath out of his nose. The answer is yes. He even sounds like shit but he looks up at her with theses soft pathetic  brown eyes and she can’t--

Rather than tell him the truth she leans down and kisses his temple. “Of course not.” 

He frowns at her, obviously he doesn’t believe that at all. He’s a profiler, a good one. So, she’d be worried if he did. 

“Don’t worry about that,” she mumbles. Besides, she’s got herself quite the itinerary for the next two hours. Not only can Hotch have another concoction of whatever medicine she can find, Jack needs to get up and get ready for school. A task, she senses, is going to be a handful she’s not prepared to deal with.

She pats Hotch’s shoulder, the warning she gives before gently extracting herself from his body. The cool air hits her and she realizes just how hot his body had been pressed to her own. Looking down at him, lines of sweat visible on his soft grey shirt, she decides they need a slight divergence from her plan.

She pulls the blankets back off of him, despite his moan of protest and the hurt look he sends her way. “Take your shirt off,” she instructs, leaning down to lift the edge of the soaked fabric herself. Getting the message that he’s got no choice in the matter, he helps her wiggle his tall frame out. 

There was once a point in their relationship where he refused to take his shirt off in front of her. In his mind, those nine stab wounds could be a deal breaker. The first time they’d had sex, he’d had a shirt on. In all fairness, she had on several layers of clothing as well. It had been a very jumping each other’s bones sort of affair. 

Now, he doesn’t even think twice as he sits squinting in the bed he’s shared with her for the better part of a year. Scars open for anyone to see. A pretty bad case of bedhead. 

She thinks his bedhead is pretty cute though.

“I’ll be back in an hour, okay?” She kisses his forehead, taking a moment to appreciate just how unraveled he looks. “Gonna get Jack off to school and then you and I can crash on the couch, okay?” She squeezes his hand within her own and leaves him before he can put up much of a fight.

Not that he’s sure he’s got too much fight left in him.

The first five minutes Hotch spends miserably spread out atop the comforter on the bed feels like hours. His brain is addled with the fever and he feels as hot and clammy as he looks. There’s a moment where he panics, convinced that Emily won’t come back at all. Down the hall he can hear her voice and with a content sigh, he lets himself slip off.

He wakes about ten minutes later, the sweat on his skin cooling and leaving him shivering from the light draft of the fan overhead. It takes all the energy he has to roll onto his side and pull blindly for a blanket to wrap his freezing frame in. 

The door cracks open and Hotch winces as the hallway light hits his eyes, making him aware of a headache he hadn’t known he had. 

“Daddy?” Jack’s sketchers light up the path he makes around to Hotch. “I gotta go to school, now.” 

Hotch forces himself to sit up, smiling despite the way the room dips and twists. “Have a good day,” he manages though his voice is weak and raspy. Jack meets him halfway and they share a short lived hug. “I’ll see you later, buddy. I love you.”

Jack turns back in the doorway, “I love you too, daddy.”

Emily comes to the door, “you better go before you’re late.” She squats down and they share a hug, too. “Have a good day, Jack-Attack.” She rustles Jack’s hair, the two of them laughing before Jack and his light up shoes disappear down the hall. 

They both listen for Jessica and Jack to leave, the sound of the front door shutting and the automatic lock to slip into place. With a sigh, Emily leaves her post at their doorway and steps back into the room. “Does it make you sad watching him get so big?” She sits down on the edge of the bed beside him, resting her head against his shoulder for a moment.  

Of course it does and he feels like he misses so much of his growing up for this damn job. 

But he can’t quit. He doesn’t know how.

“He--” his voice is more broken than he’s expecting and he has to take a moment to clear his throat before continuing. “The other week he asked me about shaving,” he looks over at her, the two of them sharing a fond smirk. “I told him we’d talked about when he starts eating a variety of food.”

Emily shakes her head, “you mean something other than dinosaur chicken nuggets, macaroni, and oatmeal?”

Hotch chuckles, doing his best but ultimately failing to stifle the cough that tickles the back of his throat. 

She lifts her head and grimaces as each cough twists his face in pained ways. “I drew you a bath,” she tells him, rubbing circles on his back. “It’ll help with the aches and the fever.” She stands up, having decided that’s what they’re going to do first. 

“Come on,” she urges. He’s unsteady on his feet but he’s better than he was last night. “We’re just going to the bathroom,” she offers out her hand. Calling his name out softly until he reaches between them takes her hand. “Slow and steady?”

He nods, the rough pads of his hands making the faintest scuffing sound as he uses it to steady his unsteady steps. “Slow and steady,” he repeats.

They work their way to the bathroom and he stands hazy and weak as she coaxes him out of his boxers. It’s the sort of thing he should do himself but bending down makes his stomach twist and the last thing they need is him puking a top everything else going wrong today.

She turns to check the water, knowing it’s cooled off but wanting to be certain. Sure enough, the water is still hot to the touch but not enough to burn her skin. She turns back to him, stepping out of the way so that he moves closer to the tub. He manages to get into the water without busting his ass or cracking his skull open… a small miracle.

He leans his head back against the cold tile, “I would understand if you have no general interest in sleeping with me ever again.” 

Emily rolls her eyes, bending down to pick up his boxers. “Aaron, this is not the first time I’ve seen you drenched in sweat and shaky.” She thrives on the way his cheeks flush-- he’s such a school girl when it comes to talking about sex. Relishing the high flustering him gives her, she continues. “Although, normally it’s not a fever but that thing I do with my tongue and your--”

“Emily!” he groans, blushing impossibly hard.

Certain that she’s either going to send him into a coughing fit or give the poor man an aneurysm, she stops there. She bends down and plants a kiss on his head, scratching at his thick hair. “Make sure you scrub behind your ears,” she reminds him softly. Chuckling when he rolls his eyes-- that’s what he’s constantly telling Jack. “If you’re a good boy,” she whispers in his ear. “We can cuddle on the couch and I’ll play with your hair.”

He would rather be bludgeoned to death than let her tell a soul that he gets weak at the knees when she plays with his hair. But he’s a sucker for it. She knows the power she has over him in this moment but she does plan on making good on her word. 

She’s not going to say no to a good cuddle on the couch.

“Promise?” he rasps. He’s got a dopey look to his eyes that melts her heart. 

She cups his jaw in her hand, and infections be damned, kisses him. “Would I ever lie to you?” 

[blogger360ncislarules]

Denial is a powerful force for Zoey’s Extraordinary Playlist‘s sister-in-law Emily, who is suffering from postpartum depression.

As viewers will see in this Sunday’s episode (NBC, 9/8c), “Emily is having trouble coming to terms with what she’s feeling and really acknowledging what she’s going through,” her portrayer Alice Lee tells TVLine. “She’s trying to sweep it under the rug, kind of brush it off.”

Meanwhile, her husband David is “also going through so much with his dad, [who] just passed away. So a lot of Emily’s inner thoughts are that she doesn’t want to be a burden to anyone,” Lee adds. “She wants to be able to get through everything on her own. She’s strong. She wants to believe she can, but in actuality, we can’t go through things alone ever in life. The episode is kind of her realizing that and opening up, really, and reaching out for help, which is hard for a lot of people.”

Below, Lee previews this week’s “very raw” heart song and how Emily’s struggle will strengthen her relationship with Zoey.

TVLINE | First of all, what was that experience like for you of shooting the “Rosanna”/”Anyone” musical number in the last episode, where you had to deviate from one song into another, while also playing all these emotions? I know, it was crazy! [Laughs] It was really fun. It was very challenging. When I heard that that was going to happen, I don’t think I even knew how challenging it would be. That was supposed to be Max’s heart song, like fully into Rose. So just going from like thrilled to sad as f—k was a hard transition, but it was amazing shooting it. Jane [Levy] was very gracious, just giving me the space and the room for me to tap into everything. The director was amazing. We shot it several different ways. I was very nervous and anxious, of course, because it was heavy, and I wanted to make sure I did it right and I did it justice. But it was just such a safe space, and I felt very safe to tap into these difficult emotions. But at the same time, I’m like, “I don’t even know if I’m doing it. Like, you guys, did you get it?” [Laughs]

TVLINE | Max gets your heart song, which is this really powerful moment. Were you relieved or scared to find out that you were also going to be able to sing that song? I know, right?! I guess I was like, “Oh, dang.” I mean, honestly, I knew that my version and his version would be different. I was kind of actually stoked. I was like, “Oh, cool!” I heard his version when I was in the booth before I shot the scene, and I was like, “Skylar, you sound so good.” But it wasn’t in a way where I was like, “Oh, God, I need to now deliver.” It was kind of comforting, knowing that someone else was singing it as well, to buffer any pressure that I might have felt, I guess. I loved it. He did such a good job. And I thought that the concept of the whole episode, where the songs were switching, was really cool.

TVLINE | Zoey makes it her mission to help Emily out this week. Initially, how does Emily feel about Zoey trying to reach out to her? Is she receptive? I don’t think Emily is receptive at all. Emily’s definitely just trying to brush it off every time, because Zoey really wants to talk and have a heart-to-heart, but Emily’s just on a totally different page. She just wants to rage or forget about it, really. It’s a funny dynamic, and I feel like we haven’t really seen a lot of Zoey and Emily together and their dynamic. It was really fun working with her during those scenes.

TVLINE | In Season 1, we got hints that Emily and Zoey are not super close. How does this episode change their relationship moving forward? It definitely brings them closer together, for sure, because I feel like both of them have never talked to each other like this. I don’t think that either of them have ever gotten to know each other in this way. In this next episode, they have a girls’ night, they go to the club, they’re in that bathroom, and then there’s [a] whole talk, and I think it definitely bonds them in a different way now. I hope that’s reflected in the future as well. I feel like their relationship is also more developed now, which is awesome.

TVLINE | What can you preview about how Emily’s struggle is manifesting in her song number this week? The number is pretty intense, which I loved. It’s very raw, and I feel like it’s her inner struggles trying to get out. Her whole reason [for] wanting to go out to the club is: Emily wants to, for a brief moment, forget about her responsibilities, forget about being a mom or a wife or having this depression. It’s all a lot for her, and [the club is] her escape. But no matter how much she just tries to escape, those feelings always come back, and they [come] back in that bathroom for this musical number. That number is just a representation of feeling trapped and feeling you’re not a person, you’re this machine who just keeps going. You’re the mom, and you’re just pumping and dumping. It just expresses her frustration, and no matter how much she tries to avoid it, it always comes back and in a very powerful way. It was a really cool way to show her struggle.

TVLINE | How would you say Emily’s struggle is impacting her marriage? Is that something that fans should be concerned about at all? I think it’s really sweet that the reason she hadn’t told David, it’s out of love almost. She doesn’t want to bother him. He was going through so much, and Emily’s just like, “I don’t want to burden him.” But I think what makes David and Emily such an endearing couple is that they do try and work through everything. They’re really there for each other, and I think this time will be no different. Just as Emily was there for David when he was like, “I’m gonna quit my job, and I’m gonna join a band,” and she was like, “Okayyy,” he’s just the same with her, and they’re very supportive of each other, and you’re going to definitely see more of that. That’s very beautiful.

[lussttforlife]

hi fam! this is @g0ldengubler and welcome to my nsfw side blog! here we can be horny fucks and just have a good time. plus this can be where i post mgg smut. like dirty mgg smut and not have to worry about somehow getting in trouble yenno (it’s one of the things i worry about on my side blog)? anyways, here’s all the info on the blog☺️ (also yes i know there’s no keep reading part i’m writing this on my phone i’m getting there lol)

✨short about me✨

my name is liv

i’m 21 years old

i’m bisexual

i use she/her pronouns

i will write for the girls and the gays and the they’s (and the cis straight ally’s as well) and that’s it

✨who i’ll talk about✨

matthew gray gubler

spencer reid

other mgg characters

any horny fantasy i have

hotch (i’m not a full on hotch stan in the dirty sense but have u read hotch fics??🤤)

emily (i mean c’mon, she’s one of the women that made me realize my sexuality in my teen years)

honestly any character from cm tbh (aside from rossi, idk why but i can’t get behind that specifically lol)

✨Rules✨

this blog is 18+, so pls, when it comes to mgg, no minors. this is where i can fully and freely be dirty. i am 21 so i will not talk nor write requests if u are. pls check out my main blog if u want uwu mgg, but spencer and other characters are ok :)

aside from anal stuff, i will not talk nor write about kinks that i’m not into (which will be listed)

...i thought there would be more but if they come to mind or i’m reminded of something or something gets out of control, i will update this lolWhat I’m Into

✨What i’m into✨

masturbating

mutual masturbation

teasing

daddy kink

praise kink

degradation

being tied up

oral

fingering

ass slapping

dom/sub dynamic

overstimulation

cock warming

orgasm denial

i’m also a huge cumslut lol

squirting

switch (only w another female. i have a hard time being dominate w a guy unless it’s in a bratty sub kind of way (which that i can talk about, too. the bratty sub thing lol)😂)

(more will be added bc i can’t think lol)

✨What i’m not into✨

feet

wax play

temp play

knife play

gun kink (sorry boiz lol)

waterworks/any bodily fluid

(more will be added later bc i can’t think lol)

if anyone has any questions pls inbox me on this account! i’ll be happy to answer☺️

[aspiestvmusings]

ZEP S2 WISH LIST

Here is my wish list for ZEP future season(s):

This is based on a list I posted on another site after the finale. I've just expenaded on it. And added more things to the list: 

One: Joan = CEO.  Zoey or Max = Joan’s job (Zoey = Joan & Max = Zoey OR Max = Joan). -- Because they gotta keep Max around on the 4th, since it’s workplace centered show. And he’s free & looking for a job & he has loved working there & has been for 5 years, but he doesn’t want his old job back as a coder. This would allow them to deal with this the best. Without casting anyone new, and having the main cast all together in scenes, while also creating new dynamics... Because Joan is the new CEO (cause DMD is gonna be away for 6-19 months, so Joan is possibly not gonna be around as much for a while... a storyline written because of the actresses LG’s filming schedule conflict). So it’s either gonna be that Zoey takes Joan’s job (and Max Zoey’s job) or Max takes Joan’s job (and Zoey remains in hers...cause she has too manhy things to deal with currently to handle the responsibility of Joan’s job)

Or as an alternate option: Max does continue on his own path, and part of his character development (and part of more backstory for him, and his growth) will be his new career path. And I hope it won’t be on the 6th floor/at some other SrpkPoint team, but that he’d go on and start his own business or something. That’d be interesting, and source for many storylines. 

Two: Abigail returning from Africa & getting that internshop at Sprk Point. Tobin + Abigail (since KT has said he wants Tobin to fall in love) -- I really want to see Abigail again. and they did set up the possibility of that in S1. Also... this would allow Howie to return, too (as her dad now, not as Mitch caregiver)

Three: Max & Mo friendship. More of that. Team M&M being there for Zoey...at this time of grieving. The only two people who know about her superpower (the only two she’s told...cause the MRI technician might be “on the know” too? The third person who knew is not physically there anymore) 

Four: Max’s new look: beard (and locks). See: Skylar Astin’s social media posts during quarantine for the visual of the look. I mean... if we already had Tobin, David & Simon... all have a beard or a shadow of a beard...in the shows Pilot, then how/why would they (read: the network/studio) not allow Max to have one? The network made the actor shave for the show/S1, but... times they are changing. And the new look would fit... perfectly into the storyline. I mean.. Max is unemplyed for now, staying at home (not going to the offfice, so no “reason” to shave). Plus he said it himself... he’s looking forward to trying new things..etc. So it would make sense storyline wise, too. 

Five: Max & Tobin friendship - exploring more of this. It’s one of the dynamics we haven’t seen much in S1. But both Tobin 2.0 & Max 2.0 are extra great, and they’d work well together. 

Six: Tobin’s squirrel! Can he bring his pet squirrel to work again, please? 

Seven: More Team SparkPoint! More scenes, more songs for, more interactions with, more backstory of other member of the Team (Tobin, Leif, and everyone else) I really need there to be more song for Tobin/Kapil. 

Eight: The Max & Zoey office pool: Tobin being in charge of the bet “when will they get together”. Since everyone knows that Max has had a crush on Zoey for the longest time, and they’ve seen her sing “I’m Yours” to him (and probably more)... it’s time for this storyline. Because there is definitely some betting been going on about Zoey/Max, and if/when they will be together. 

Nine: More backstory to all (side) characters: The Clarke’s (Maggie, Zoey, David, Emily), Mo, Tobin, Leif, Joan, Max... How/When they started to work at Sprk Point. Their family. Their “outside work” life. Their personal experiences with grief (Zoey & Simon may be the only ones who have lost their dads, but Joan is defintely not the only person Zoey knows who has lost someone close... and she/we are just not aware ogf it yet)

Ten: Max & Simon: Both men agreeing to take a step back & take themselves out of the competition in Zoey’s mind, letting her have her alone time & family time after the funeral. Zoey taking time to think, and reflect...on things. And then sitting down to talk with both men (either all three together, or with each separately), and telling them everything/the truth. Telling Max about her connection with Simon and what happened on her “anger phase day”. Telling Simon about her connection and history with her best friend, Max and what happened on the day when the bad moon rose. And then either choosing one of them...or...if they are all open to it...then they could all be in a poly relationship... In other words: honesty from all. And no love triangle, cause that doesn’t work or fit anymore after S1. ETA [Dec 11th]: Oh, well...we all knew this wish of mine wasn’t fully gonna come true in early S2. The “triangle” is still there & both continue with their “heart songs” apparently, but we got a bonus out of it all: the two men are “best buddies” now. That’s something at least...

Eleven: Exploring the Max & Zoey relationship (co-workers, friends, romantic couple) through the eyes of others/people around them: We’ve seen Simon, who was an outsider & didn’t know them much, notice the connection between Max & Zoey. We’ve seen him say that he’s noticed how close the two are, and it’s also noticable when they are spending less time together. He’s even asked if the two are/have been a couple. So... he’s been aware that there is more to Max & Zoey than she has told him. Cause she keeps telling him they’re just friends & he has no reason to be jealous..etc... when he can see/sense that there is/was more... (and it’s possible that had she been honest with him from the start, he’d not “come between the two”...though IDK). How others see them. 

Twelve: Zoey admitting to herself that she hasn’t been fair with the two men in her life. Telling both the truth. Being open about her real feelings..for each. Zoey being more open with her own feleings, not running away from deep emotions. Not being scared of “what if-s”. Taking her own advice...to not keep it all (the grief) inside her, and instead talk about it...with loved ones. Dealing with it. And looking at things from a new, different perspective. Going after her joy... and realizing it’s not as far as she thinks. Realizing that she can live and love again after her dad is gone. Zoey admitting to herself that she formed an emotional grief bond with Simon only/mainly/mostly because she had a crush on him and wanted him for his body. That that was her motivation. Cause that was why she was so eager to help him, and why she continued her emotional affair with him. 

THIS IS WHAT HAS TO HAPPEN...FOR ME TO “LIKE” THE MAIN CHARACTER. Until she claims it’s all due to the powers or grief & won’t accept it’s her own choices & doing, I’m not gonna be able to fully enjoy the storylines. She may be grieving, she may be “stressed out” due to the power and she may have a “hot mess” personality in general, but since for me none of it is logical & I see her behaviours and all as irrational & controversial, I can’t “get” the character. To me her behaviour and all don't match up (and s much as I try convincing myself it’s cause of grief or powers or...) I cannot convince myself that those explain it. Hence she seems “OOC” to me... back & forth, all depending too much on the seasons set up (things happen in premiere, for sweeps, for finale... cause there have to be twists then, so even if they don’t add up or aren’t logical, they happen...) 

As Maggie put it, when Zoey lashed out on Howie: “We do not talk to people like that.” AND as Mo out it “don’t blame it on the power, this one’s all on you”. Meaning... she cannot claim that all of it is due to her grief or powers. And  personally need her to stop being in denial & claiming it’s “due to grief/powers”, when its been made clear she’s aware she is actually just trying to stay in denial.... 

Thirteen: Zoey + therapy & Simon + therapy: both taking time to properly grieve, and heal. And acknowledge their mistakes: Simon (emotionally) cheating on Jessica (he may not be a bad person, but he did a “bad thing”). Zoey leading both men along and being dishonest.

Fourteen: Maggie going back to work, continuing her landscape/floral business...without Mitch. But shell need someone to help her. The perfect candidate would be Autumn. She loves all things nature! Also...any excuse to have her (Stephanie) back. 

Fifteen: Paul (the family friend, who we saw in 1x06 & 1x12) being back. He’s the most likely candidate for a possibly romantic storyline for Maggie. IF they decide to write one. (and we all know TV shows like to write all that)

Sixteen: Mitch still being there... even if he’s not. In their dreams. In flashbacks. In Zoey-ality...singing to her. Any excuse to have Micth (Peter) back...as much as possible. And the “Mitch effect”: how he’s shaped everyone (Maggie, Zoey, David, Emily, Max...) who knew him... his “ideas” living on through them. Big Moments... 

Seventeen: Baby Mitch [cause, let’s be real, David & Emily are gonna name their baby boy after his grandpa...in some way or form)! David & Emily as parents. David as a father... even if he’s had doubts about himself as a dad [the whole “I dont think I’m manly enough” plot they did] 

Eighteen: Aunt Zoey -- Zoey as an aunt to “baby Mitch”. David & Emily asking Zoey & Max to be the babies godparents (they would...cause he’s like a family, and they have no idea about any of the triangle drama...probably). Zoey babysitting baby Mitch. Zoey & Max babysitting baby Mitch. Cause let’s face it - they would  not let Zoey do it alone - she’d be too anxious/nervous... #classictrope

Nineteen: Throwbacks to: The day that Max & Zoey met..5 years ago..a the company orientation day, and to other big moments in their friendship (how the movie nights started...). Leif’s first day...which was 7 years ago... sao hes been there longer. The day Max met Zoeys family, and seeing many of the moments they had together (any excuse to have Micth/Peter back) - the holidays, the summer barbeques...  and how everyone knew about Maxs feelings for Zoey. 

Twenty: More Zoey/Mo friendship. And more about her other neighours. Maybe her shy downstairs neighbour is ready for that moonwatching adventure on the roof? Speaking of which...can we get some astronomy/math storylines (backstory and expansion of Zoey’s interests - how it started, what she’s doing now...)

Twenty-One:  More singing & dancing...in whatever form. In Zoey’ality/Zoeys head, in dreams, in the form of karaoke or flash mobs. And one thing’s for sure... we need Zoey to SING...for real...to Max..once she’s made up her mind and chooses him. Whether it’s a flash mob, or karaoke..or just... “serenading” him... but she is her fathers daughter, and to parallel Max’s flash mob love confession & honouring her dad’s love for big moments, bigger memories...her “confession” should also be in the form of song...and dance.

Twenty-Two:  More people finding out about the power...though I don’t really see her “trusting” this secret to anyone but the people she already has told. Except for, maybe, her mom. It could help her if she’d know that Mitch communicated with her/them in a way...during his last months. And maybe she’d tell Joan. But... I actually do not see her telling Simon... even if they do make her choose him for now...cause she’ll make bad choices due to being a grieving mess. And unlike with her best friend, where she can request any feelings/heart song..or none at all... I don’t see her doing the same with her office crush, so any possible make out session will be ruined...as now it seems he is emotionally available, and “likes her back”, so he’s about to sing to her...during such moments. Yet...if they do get closer and she doesn’t tell him... that alone will drive them apart..the secret(s). And yet...if she will tell him...then I do not see a scenario where he will be okay with it, and as chill as Mo, or even as mildly chill as Max was. Because his entire belief in them is based on his belief that she has this natural connection with him...when in fact she’s using a CHIRP style device that helps her read his mind/heart. And unlike others, I do not see the possibility of him being chill or OK with her power, and her not telling him.

Twenty-Three:  CHIRP vs ZOEYALITY...the parallels between the superpower & the new tech/gadget

Written: over summer 2020 & updated with a few ETAs: Dec 11th, 2020

[priorireverte]

Congratulations Emily!

Your application for George Weasley has been accepted. I feel like George is often a character who gets overlooked, or reduced to ‘twin and prankster’. You have definitely not done that, adding so much more to him in a realistic way that a war would. I’m very excited to have him around!

Please look to the checklist for the next steps and reach out if you have any questions!

OUT OF CHARACTER

NAME & PRONOUNS: Emily, She/Her

TIMEZONE: EST

ACTIVITY LEVEL: I am currently searching for a job, but that does leave me with some time on my hands for rping purposes! Trying to keep myself busy in a multitude of ways when the world is not helping y'know </3

ANYTHING ELSE: TW: rape, sexual assault

CHARACTER DETAILS

NAME: George Weasley

BIRTHDATE: April 1, 1978

DEATHDATE:  N/A

GENDER, PRONOUNS, and SEXUALITY:  George identifies as a cis-man and uses he/him pronouns. He is fairly comfortable with these. George is hetero-romantic and asexual, although I would not say this is a term he understands or would use for himself. Whenever his friends would talk about their partners sexually, George would play along with the others, but definitely would look to change the subject as soon as humanly possible. It is simply not something he can comprehend about himself and he does best ignoring feelings that he may not yet understand. The only person he has ever even mildly revealed this to would be Fred, but George was not comfortable going into any major detail in regards to how he felt. At most it was an offhand comment here or there.

BLOOD STATUS: Pureblood

HOUSE ALUMNI: Gryffindor

OCCUPATION: Shop Owner of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes

FACECLAIM: I think I am going back and forth on this and I am also terrible at these—I believe I was debating between Caleb Landry Jones or Luke Newberry. But I think I finally decided to go with Caleb!

CHARACTER BACKGROUND

POSTBELLUM

They say there are five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. They also say that time heals all wounds. George has found out that hard way that this is all a load of rubbish. What they don’t tell you about losing the most important person in your life is that you never fully stop grieving. You can’t heal. Because healing involves forgetting. A bouquet of flowers from his great aunt was nice, but it’s not going to make George forget and it’s not going to bring Fred back. And George has no idea how to keep plants alive, anyway.

It seems like most others have been able to move on; start families, or careers, but George can’t seem to get past it, and he forces himself to deal with his loss head on every day by working day in and day out at that store that haunts him. He sees Fred in everything; from the letterhead on his desk that still reads “Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, Proprieters Fred and George Weasley”; to the kids who come in and test the screaming yo-yo’s in front of him; or the mirror in the bathroom that is for employees only. He has buried himself in his work post the war, and quite literally expects to be buried in it.

While George will never fully get over the loss of his twin, he has since stopped having panic attacks in the bathroom and got a haircut, which he considers major progress. It has also helped that he has finally taken Ron up on his offer to help run the shop, which he realized he needed a long time ago, as the bills have piled up from all his discounts. [Happy to redact if Ron’s mun decides they don’t want to follow this plot!] He still snaps at his family more than he would like, but they know how suffocating they can be.

The news of the Returned may have been the happiest anyone had seen George in years. He cracked a joke and even went out of his way to visit his siblings, instead of making them come to him. To Hell with adjusting to his new life, he was ready. It seemed clear to him that those who died valiantly in the Battle of Hogwarts were returning—After all, if people like Professor Lupin and Lavender Brown were coming back, it was only a matter of time until Fred did too, right?

PERSONALITY: What are they good at? What do they struggle with? What are their strengths and weaknesses? 

Boys as loud as their hair, is what George heard Filch say about him and his brother once, and it lit up his face with a wide bright grin before he tapped Fred excitedly on the shoulder to share the good news. It was this unbridled optimism, this impractical belief that he could do anything that gave him the confidence and courage to follow his dreams. That, and having a partner by his side.

George was easy to get along with, because for most of his life his decisions had been made for him and all he had to do was saddle up and play along. Fred was always the one setting the wheels in motion, and George was grateful for that. He wasn’t shy by any means, but people just flocked to Fred, and by association George. They were known to light up any room they were in, and were always the first to enliven a crowd if it was too dreary for their liking. He liked having the same friends as his brother. He liked being a package deal. He knew Fred would always have his back so when he felt like he wanted to retreat, he knew Fred could carry a conversation or sort something in the shop without him.

Perhaps that’s why it’s been so hard for George to adjust to life on his own. Now all of that pressure falls on him and it feels overwhelming. He was never the business-savvy brother, leaving Fred to come up with price points while he worked on ideas for new products.

Now, it feels like half of himself is gone. Sometimes he feels like a body walking around and smiling because that’s what people are supposed to do, but the joy just isn’t there. The smiles are artificial now. He is trying, but few things can bring back that spark that his twin so easily transferred over to him.

BRIEF OVERVIEW OF FAMILY: What was being part of their family like? How did they grow up? What values did their parents/family instill in them?

His parents instilled in him and all his siblings a love and joy greater than most, and George was grateful for that. The Weasley’s weren’t well off by any means, but that only bubbled the creativity in the twins, especially when it came to ways to cure their boredom. He remembers fond birthdays he shared with Fred where they made their own cake scream or spent an entire afternoon perfecting exploding snaps in their bedroom, much to the dismay of their parents. The Burrow was unkempt and chaotic, but George loved it, squeaky floorboards and all.

He hasn’t been back in years, purposefully choosing to close himself off from that space. He knows his mother isn’t happy with his choice and that guilt eats him up inside, but that shrinking feeling in his heart is better than the burning feeling he would get of seeing his brother’s hand on that clock. Still, George loves his family endlessly, even if he hasn’t done a very good job of showing it these last couple of years.

HISTORY: What was their life before the end of the war in ‘98 or before their death? What was important and formative for them?

There was a time when George thought that the worst thing that could happen to him was having to de-gnome the garden after flying a car underage. Then there was a time he thought the worst thing that could happen to him was losing an ear. George and his siblings grew up in a loving, but shabby home. He loved his siblings and knew they loved him, even if he and his twin brother were always pranking them. They were carefree, and they had each other.

Fred was the one who first suggested the two go into business, and George was always the first to agree with his big brother. It felt like a dream, leaving the drudges of school behind and spending all day doing what he loved with the person he cared about most. They never fought. They had been a well-oiled machine since birth, so it only made sense that their business ran smoothly. The one knew where the others’ strengths and weaknesses lied. Fred was better at bargaining and he didn’t care what color the walls were, like George did. Growing up did not seem like growing up, because he had a partner by his side.

George was the one who first brought up going back to Hogwarts. Given their proximity to the Order of the Phoenix and Harry, fighting alongside them was their only option. Additionally, George felt they owed Harry for helping them start their business in the first place. He will always believe that the cause they fought for was noble and right, but he sometimes wonders if the victory was worth the loss. He doesn’t spend much time with folks of his past. George doesn’t want to, but a piece of him resents Harry. He would never tell anyone, but he wonders if they hadn’t gotten so close, felt it was necessary to fight alongside him, if Fred would still be here. He wonders If he wouldn’t fall asleep alone at his desk every night curled into a ball; he wonders if he would ever make a new product instead of staring, detached at the efforts that just remind him of his brother.

OOC EXPLORATION

WHAT ARE YOU MOST LOOKING FORWARD TO? I feel like finding a post-war trio era rp with a unique plot that is also para-based is me asking for too much, and yet here you are!! I have never explored Post-War George and I think his trauma is so fascinating and it could affect his life in so many different ways, as it already has. The addition of the Returned is asking for more ~angst~ and boy am I here for it :) In particular, I am interested in exploring the dynamics George has with his siblings especially, as I am sure some of them have very different reactions to him kind of closing himself off for a bit, and his guilt is obviously through the roof because of it. But also all characters tbh!!! I love for plotting out entirely too much backstory haha.

ANYTHING ELSE?  I made a mood board for George here! https://www.pinterest.com/ebateman64/ch-george-weasley/

And also some head canons!:

George has a hard time sleeping (he always has) but he actually enjoys sleeping in his office. The papers piled high, the Pygmy Puffs that squeak at night–the clutter and chaos actually feel like the most stable thing he has had in a long time. Immediately following the war, George stayed at the Burrow for a few weeks to be closer to his family, using it as an excuse to get any leftover stock that might still be in his childhood bedroom. But it was too troubling to sleep in that room. It was bare-boned, not only because he had taken most of his belongings, but because one of the beds was empty. After the first night, he slept on the couch in the living room instead.

While he barely feels the loss of his left ear these days, occasionally there is a ringing sound that fills his head and gives him migraines from the pain, major enough that he needs to lie down. This only happens occasionally, and he usually chooses to push through it by clasping his hand to his ear for a few minutes.

George actually used to care quite deeply about his appearance, however, that has definitely gone downhill in recent years. Some could say he is going to a “rugged” look, but it’s really just because he can’t be bothered to wash his hair. In the last couple of weeks, however, he has donned the old suit that he used to wear to work everyday. He can’t fill it out like he used to, but it gives him some semblance of hope.

[buckysgoldenheart]

Zero Days Since Our Last Disaster: Part 5

Summary: What happens when the guy you slept with two nights ago shows up where you least expect?

Words: 983

Please excuse any mistakes. First thing I've written in like 3 months. 

Warnings: Probably cursing; eventual smut I’m sure; questionable overall writing decisions.

Part 5

Six a.m. coffee at the diner was the best coffee. It was fresh and rich, just like you liked and needed after what Wanda had told you the night before. You thanked God the diner was empty, free from loud nearby conversations. You could think, though all thoughts in the last twelve hours had been rapid and scattered. You and Wanda took a big sip of your caffeine at the same time. Then, she spoke.

“He wants to talk to you.”

You stared at the cream still swirling in the dark liquid, having been too eager for a drink to let it fully mix in. “Why? He’s suddenly chatty? He wasn’t so much when he left me in the middle of the night to trot off to California for that girl. So, why now?”

Wanda sighed and ran a hand through her neatly styled hair. “Are you sure you want to talk about this? I’m worried. Should I not have told you he’s here?”

You looked up and shook your head. “No, you were a good friend. I would’ve run into him anyway, and where else would he be staying but with Pietro?” You relished the big gulp of the hot liquid you poured down your throat. “So, seriously, did he say why he wanted to talk?”

“Yes. Well, not to me. Pietro told me.”

“And?”

Wanda turned her head to the side, looking out the window at the few people passing by, contemplating how her next words would affect your actions for the rest of the month. Her apprehension filled the empty room. “He wants you back.”

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

You told Wanda you were fine, you just wanted to be alone for a few hours, though in truth, you’d rather your solitude last a year or two. When you left the diner and once Wanda was around the corner and out of sight, you practically ran back to your apartment. You sobbed the minute the door slammed behind you, then felt the nausea building. You rushed to the bathroom and threw up your coffee.

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

Your mind couldn’t focus on your work, not for a second. The words seemed to jumble on the pages the assistant had slammed on your desk. All you could think of was escaping. From the work in front of you, the office, the city, the world. His name kept running through your head. Jake.

You scooted back in your chair and as quick as you could without raising eyebrows, ran to your aunt’s office with the full intention of faking illness. Aunt Maria loved you, but she was not a woman to understand the complexities of a dead lover rising from the grave. A little fib was the only way to get yourself out of there.

Two steps away from the door you realized your Aunt was not in.

“She’s at lunch.”

Your eyes slammed shut at the sound of Bucky’s sultry voice. You knew you wanted to see him again, to see his face, but despite how wonderful and understanding he was the last time you saw each other, now was not the time. However, unavoidable.

With a smile on your face you hoped didn’t look too fake, you turned to see those bright, blue eyes. His smile was all real. Fully genuine, and something you just couldn’t seem to appropriately mentally handle at the moment.

“I, um,” Bucky paused. “I’ve missed you.”

You chuckled awkwardly but avoided his stare. “It’s been one day.”

“And yet, I miss you anyway,” He said, touching your elbow with his fingertips, forcing you too look at him without actual force. “Are you ok? You don’t seem—”

“I’m fine.”

“Oh, yea?”

Clearly, you hesitated for a moment too long. Bucky’s eyebrows knitted together before he grabbed your hand and lead you into the next nearby office that wasn’t your aunt’s. You stood silently in the center of the room as he clicked the door shut.

He stepped to you. “Tell me, sweetheart.”

You sighed. “Bucky, it’s not really…I mean, it’s not something I even know how to say.”

“You don’t want to see me anymore.” He said. Stated as if he was sure you had no interest in him for whatever reason. It hurt to see the hurt in his eyes.

“That’s not it. I want to try, with you, I really do. I just have to deal with something first.”

“You’re not in danger or anything, are you?”

You shook your head, waving your hands in denial. “No, no, nothing like that. I promise.”

Bucky smiled, relieved, then laid a hand on your cheek which you unexpectedly leaned into. “I won’t pry for now, but if you need help, you’ll tell me? You’ll let me help you?”

You paused for a second, then said:

“Come over tonight,” wanting to have at least one last night with a man that made you feel special before the one that made you feel like crap blew up your life.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

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

You cared not for the fact that you were in a sweatshirt and leggings and neither did Bucky. He must not have even noticed as the first thing he said to you after opening the door to your apartment was ‘you look beautiful.’

Jake always criticized what you wore. Too prudish, you could try to look sexy for me; you look like a slob; you’re dressed like a slut. You never could win with Jake. You spent a year and a half as the two outcast beds from Goldilocks and the Three Bears. Too hard or too soft, never just right; not for Jake.

Bucky just held you for as long as you wanted as you both watched TV. You knew he could feel your stress seeping over to him, but he didn’t ask questions. He wouldn’t until you wanted him to, and you savored that rare respect you’d never been given before.  

Tags: @dugan365 @moonlightimagination @pietrotheavenger @marvel-fanfiction @agentsinstorybrooke @dani-si-deactivated20190629 @alyssiamking @wintersoldier98 @then-there-was-me-emily @prxttybirdz @tessvillegas @xceafh @jazzwoman897 @fandoms-who @meganwinchester1999 @ufffg @debra77 @rebelliouscat @anise-d-castle6 @projectxhappiness @buckybarnesappreciationsociety @lowkeysebby @stringgeek13 @quotemeow @notmyfault404 @jjamesbbarness @stangirl4eva @guera31 @sophiatomlinson23 @thisismysecrethappyplace @hiddles-rose @mywinterwolf @picapicapicassobaby @lokilvrr

@wordacadabra @alexaduke @the-nargles-made-me-do-it @jhangelface0523 @hadesgirl1015 @the-wayward-robot @just-add-butter @yourpotatotwiceremooved @courtmr @purrrcrastination

[micerhat]

Oh no, Micer is gonna have a ramble.

For starters, these are my headcanons.  Ignore them at your leisure, most times they’re generally garbage. 

So my version of Emilie is something similar to Audrey in the sense of 'Career First - Everything Else Second' that she and Gabriel are perfect for each other in that they are both career and success driven. If they're wandering the friggen mountains of Tibet, perhaps we should tag a 'By Any Means' onto that.

Of the two of them, Emilie cared more for Adrien (not to say Gabriel doesn't, he just has a hard time of showing, anything) but she still held goals of continuing her modeling career/aspiring actress/anything that isn't just 'The Beautiful Model, Muse and Wife of Gabriel Agreste'  Let the nanny raise my darling son - but if my son so much as calls the nanny mommy, even by accident - she's fired.  What are supposed to be good intentions for all the worst reasons, especially if she had Adrien in her mid to late 20s.  She loves her son but wants her career, but she sure as hell isn't going to give up the mother title and will out-argue anyone who tries to explain how it is hurting Adrien's development.

Aka. If she saw Adrien smile at Nathalie like he does now?  She would be smiling but would be more bared teeth than actual smile and you would also start hearing that low growling sound cats make when they’re being annoyed coming from her general direction. 

Did she use the Miraculous to help her fame - who the hell knows. I like to think she was creating Sentimonsters that looked like her but acted and emoted with the skill of top Emmy/Academy Award winners to get through screen-tests and auditions in hopes of getting herself noticed. 

To the point where she pushed and pushed until she went too far.

For the public and their circle of friends Gabriel is pushing the narrative of - My wife wanted to go off and find herself.  It's simply a spiritual journey while leaving her worldly things behind, when she's ready she will come back.  I'm sure of it.  My son and I will wait for her when she is ready to return.

While people just kinda shake their heads and go 'Poor bastard, she's likely scarpered off with a movie co-star or a director or one of the photographers, she’s holed up on some island paradise love-nest, probably waiting for Gabe to work himself into a heart attack...' and others go 'Good for her, Mr. Agreste might make beautiful things but he's odd, cold - I wouldn't stay either. Shame she didn't take little Adrien with her, that boy thinks the world of her...'

But onto @cottoncandycorn 's questions and the tangent they’ve lead me to go on: What will Nathalie and Gabriel say to each other before/after?

"I said I would do anything for you Gabriel..."

"I know, that is why I'm asking you to quietly leave, Nathalie. I will have someone clear your desk and bring your belongings to you. Don't make this any harder than it needs to be.  Please."

Haaaa.  Kidding.

Gabriel is already a private and reserved person and Nathalie touts a goddamn philosophy of outward professionalism and inward self doubt - but they've worked together enough to start picking up the others quirks.  Not so much is said - What am I doing? To themselves, to each other - or - Wait. No, this is wrong and should stop.

Because they’ve gotten really good at ignoring that internal voice.

Before?

I think out of the both Nathalie would be louder in doubting herself in the beginning - ‘Should we be doing this? This is my fault its happening. I should have kept my feelings to myself, found a way to bury them - I love you, but I hate what I've done. Emilie is your wife, but I still want this, whatever it is - but I don't think we can continue doing this without recognizing there being damages (says the pair that destroy Paris on the regular) - but you deserve to be happy.’

Yet, she is more than happy to let it keep going because as terrible as this feels (as much as she would like to not be exhausted and risking a damn coma) it also feels wonderful and exciting and the other shoe hasn't dropped yet, so she'll take whatever happiness she can until that day comes that he succeeds and drops her for his restored family - so she can be ‘happy’ for them and fully prepared to hit send on her resignation tender immediately and leave to go figure herself out.

Gabriel?  He may have his internal moments of What am I doing, this is pointless, I should give in - give up.  But they’re short lived - because of the goal!  His Emilie!  Just like there is apparently no harm in destroying Paris time and time again to attain the goal. 

And it’s the same with how he regards Nathalie, ‘There is no harm in this, I love my wife and want her back, I am doing this so my son can be happy, so I can be happy - Nathalie is just showing her support.  She wants me to succeed.  It’s harmless and I don’t need to say no and I don’t want to admit that I’ve missed this warmth - to the point that if I had to say no, I would be reluctant to do so.  But since it is just the two of us that know, what we are trying to achieve - there is no harm in it.’

Ya know, just like how Hawkmoth is harmless. 

No harm in this, so he ignores that the dynamic between them has shifted more and more from replaceable and bumbling employee to acquaintance to ‘Partner in Crime’ - he let her in and she’s staying and he’s gone and boiled that frog. 

He may hold Nathalie in a high regard because of her loyalty (even if it is self-destructive), but she won’t touch the level that he holds Emilie - she wouldn’t want to and would be offended if he did.  But he cares for her in his own extremely reserved (Gabriel for the love of god stop strangling the emotions that aren’t full tilt ranting and see a goddamn therapist and get Adrien one too) way. 

He still loves Emilie and holds the memory of her dearly and feels an obligation to help her - but how long before he realizes again that maybe this promise is too much, that maybe his memories are a little rose colored from nostalgia and he begins to regard her more as an object or a burden?  Even if she is currently serving as a goal post to strive towards.

I still wonder if he was aware of what Emilie was doing, or was it too little too late?  Does he hear her sometimes when he is down there?  ‘Gabriel, fix this, you have to fix this - you always fix these things for me.  I hate feeling like this - Promise, promise me, you will fix this, Gabriel.  Please.’

If he did know from the beginning is this a divergence?  Nathalie being the Emilie he could save?  He is still selfish enough to allow her and even encourage her to continue to use a broken Miraculous - because of the goal - but that guilt got tired of muttering ‘Look what you did, Gabriel, look what it is doing to her’ and found a bullhorn this time and had a round of screaming ‘Look what you did!  Look what you did and she is still doing it for you - for you!’ at the end of Miracle Queen - to the point where It was all for nothing. 

I’m sorry.  My grandiose plans fell apart again. 

Look at what I did, what I did to you, but the guilt bullhorn got confiscated at the mention of the translated texts and fixing the Peacock Miraculous.  Because Nathalie pulls him out of that hole and he’s likely back to ‘Go Rest’ and I’m going to go destroy Paris. 

Does it work?  Does he pour over those translated texts for some solution and find there’s absolutely none?  Or does he find something in the text that pretty much lays down that maybe his initial plan won’t work?  

Would much change?  Change has already started and it usually begins with the little things. 

I still like to think Nathalie got called in Tokyo during the night after the events of Party Crasher with Gabriel practically having a goddamn nervous breakdown over being at first unable to protect Emilie, what would have happened if he hadn’t located a victim for his Akuma and the confusion and anger at just how much joy was suddenly within the mansion.

So much happiness because he was gone. 

Perhaps in private, they still have those moments of closeness, dear god don’t get me started on Hawkmoth/Nathalie or the damn petting and personal-space ignoring that would probably occur if Nathalie can become Mayura again without risk to her well-being because dear god those two are so friggen dysfunctional they need to be completely other people just to let go a little bit. 

But I think they sooner or later they would talk, but would say more without words, like one of their normal working late dinners where suddenly there’s a fancy little lonely candle sitting on her desk as is a spare chair and Nathalie just starts trying to strangle down a laugh at seeing it, because it’s silly and yet she loves it. 

Contract reviews usually don’t come with mood lighting. 

They would agree to keep whatever this is (it’s a relationship, the beginnings of one, you both wear the same goddamn hats to care for goddamn butterflies, but okay go with guilt and denial) secret, to let what happens happens since it seems to keep both of them going towards Gabriel’s goal - a goal that slowly is being reconsidered as futile?  A goal that might change into him moving on?

Who the hell knows, I’m enjoying it though. 

[writing-in-april]

The 5 Stages of Grief

Stage Two: Anger (2/5)

Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader (Spencer POV)

Summary: Spencer going through each of the stages of grief after the death of the reader. Stage two is anger.

A/N: Thank you for all the love this series has gotten just after posting the first part!! I know angst isn’t for everyone— and neither is seeing Spencer in pain but thank you to all the people who read it 🥰 Again there’s a lot of rhetorical questions in this chapter- plus a lot of repition in Spencer’s thoughts. and, again each chapter gets progressively longer (cause each stage lasts a longer period of time) I did want to clarify that the only thing in this series that’s really going to give away what season it’s in is the people that are on the team. Requests are open and thanks for reading!

Warnings ⚠️ (if you want full warnings for the series check the Masterlist): Unnecessary agression against Spencer’s co-workers, Spencer attacking an unsub, Talk of death, Blood, Talk of guns, Unreliable narrator

Main Masterlist | 5 Stages of Grief Masterlist

Word count: 1.6k

The water that I had been submerged under immediately following the denial slipping away was slowly being replaced with a fire that burned hot. As I was being brought back to the police station in one of the bureau supplied SUVs nothing else was on my mind except the scorching anger that flickered inside me. I was inflamed with rage, so much so that I didn’t care to respond to Morgan’s soothing words to me. The words did nothing to douse the flames flaring to life within me, it just made me wish I did shut him up back at the crime scene. I should regret that I almost injured part of my own team earlier when I was blinded by denial, but the roaring inferno that consumed me was forcing me to focus only on the man that dared to pull the trigger.

“Shut up!” I snapped hotly at Morgan. In response he gave me a wounded look, I could care less about his feelings right now, he didn’t have his significant other murdered right in front of him. That at least got him to be quiet for a moment, which allowed me to let a few hot tears slip down my cheeks. They were tears of frustration and anger, they might as well have been gasoline poured on me acting as a propellant for my hostile feelings.

What further fueled the fire that burned hot inside me was the fact that they would never fulfill the dreams they had for their life. There was also a small part of me that was selfish, the fact that I would never be able to experience those dreams with them, it only served as another accelerant for the fire within me.

They deserved a better way to go, they deserved not to be shot in the back alley behind a gas station. They deserved to die surrounded by loved ones after living a long full life, with me right beside them.

When we pulled up in front of the station I quickly shot out of the vehicle, almost forgetting to even unbuckle my seatbelt. Morgan swiftly followed behind me trying to catch up with my long belligerent strides.

“Wait kid!” He grabbed my arm that was still covered in their blood, cardigan had been soaked enough to even bleed through to my button up. My once pristine purple cardigan was stained blood red, I would never wear this again. As soon as I got the chance I would burn it, even if it was gifted to me by them.

“Don’t call me kid.” My statement was laced with a deadly tone, I didn’t want his help nor did I need his pity. I yanked my arm out of his grip, then storming up the steps and barging into the station. The police officers all looked at me with varying looks of sadness that made me want to wipe their expression off their face. They had no right to be sad. They didn’t even know them.

I paced by the evidence board waiting for any news, not caring that I was still stuck in my bloodied clothes. Most of the team had left to go follow a lead a while ago leaving me with Emily. At least she didn’t feel the need to speak to me. She knew there was nothing she could say or do to make this situation better.

“Spencer, can you come with me?” JJ asked me gently. I perked up instantly at those words, hoping that they had at least been able to track down some sort of information. At least then maybe my fire would be partially quelled.

My breath hitched when I saw what JJ had led me to see. There he was sitting at the interrogation table, the only thing separating us was the one way glass. There was no doubt in my mind, it was him.

JJ then looked at Hotch and Rossi with a saddened expression before joining Morgan in the room where the unsub was shackled to the table. They started the interrogation of what they were all probably saying was the ‘suspect’, but I knew him to be the perpetrator.

“Where did you find him?” The volume of my voice was soft when I spoke, though my words still had an edge of fury to it.

“He was found a mile away from the scene by some of the officers on patrol, with a gun of the same caliber that- Anyway, we are just waiting for ballistics to confirm.” Rossi was gentle as he explained the situation to me. My mind wandered again instead of fully listening to the reason this man was apprehended. Where was everyone’s rage? Why wasn’t anyone angry? The sadness everyone permeated right now, did nothing to help bring this man to justice. Justice was needed. Real action was needed. Vengeance was needed.

“It’s definitely him.” I wasn’t paying attention to the man’s recount or his alibi that I had no doubt was fake. It didn’t matter to me, there was no doubt in my mind that he was guilty.

“Are you sure?” Hotch finally spoke up with a tone of authority, seemingly unaffected by the events of today. “You never said if you got a good look at him or not.”

My face hardened into stone at Hotch’s question. Was he trying to make me more mad? Was he trying to goad me into retaliation? Did he even care about them? Did he even care that one of his co-workers had been murdered? Or was he really as stone cold as everyone made him out to be? Maybe Haley’s murder had really made him void of all emotion. I couldn’t do that. I needed to be angry, I needed it to fuel me into bringing this man to justice. Maybe it wouldn’t be the most legal form of justice, but I would make sure he’d see it, whether it was by my fist or the courts.

“It’s him.” I said with even more conviction, almost on the edge of yelling at the two of them. I turned around to face my two bosses, a dark expression taking over my face as I did. I wish they would just let me in the room.

Rossi’s face was full of pity and through learning to read Hotch’s micro expressions throughout the years I could tell he was trying to express his sympathy, though it felt hollow. The pity and sympathy only served to make the rage inside me more volatile, which I didn’t think was possible. I didn’t care that Hotch had experienced the same pain I was feeling and I didn’t care that Rossi truly had cared about the both of us. It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough to make me not want to burst through the door of the interrogation room and beat the man to a pulp.

My vision clouded over so I only saw red, I had been consumed by the fire within me. I was like an uncontrollable wildfire now, nothing would stop me. Nothing would stop me from reaching the source of my wrath.

————

My hands were bruised and bloodied, almost like I had punched my fists into glass repeatedly. The blood was seeping through the bandages, someone must have patched me up. But, who? I didn’t even know where I was right now or even how I had gotten these bruises.

Scanning my surroundings I realized I was sitting at the round table in my usual spot, my memory then started coming back to me. I remember JJ pulling me off the unsub after I barged into the interrogation room and had landed a few blows. In my fury of being pulled away from the source of my fire I punched through the mirror in the bathroom I had been dragged into. I remember the wounds on my hands being carefully cleaned by Emily with a softness that I didn’t see often from her. And, I remember being taken home on the jet accompanied by half of the team, the other half had stayed behind to wrap up the case. It scared me that I could barely recall the memories without a haze of fuzziness. I must have been so wrought with fiery emotion and exhaustion that everything around me had started to slip away as unimportant. The team must have brought me in here, they probably wanted to keep an eye on me and knew I wouldn’t want to go back to our apartment. Well, I guess it was just my apartment now. Yeah, the team was right to leave me here. If I even caught a glimpse of their belongings I was sure the rage would take over again.

My eyes immediately shifted over to the chair next to me that would usually be occupied by them. Tears once again filled my eyes, I had cried so much in the past few hours- or was it days? I had cried so much that I wasn’t sure how it was possible. My eyes felt raw, my nose felt raw, my skin felt raw, really my whole being felt raw from the abuse it had seen throughout this whole ordeal. I just wanted this to be over. I just wanted them back.

The fire hadn’t fully gone from me, and I wasn’t sure that it ever would. It flickered inside me, trying to force me into enacting vengeance on the man that had extinguished the person I cared about the most. But, the overwhelming feeling of desperation to see the person who mattered to me most had taken over to partially snuff out the flames into embers. I’d do whatever it takes, I just wanted them back.

—

All works:

@shotarosleftpinky @oreogutz

Spencer Reid/CM:

@calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss

5 stages of grief:

@joonie-centric @tatesimper @half-blood-dork @mcntsee @illuxions-x @rainsong01 @nomajdetective @loveheathens

[gale-gentlepenguin]

More of the miraculous as Kim Possible

-Marinette has a crush on Luka, (I.E. Her equivalent to Josh Mankey. (Who I also remember not liking, maybe because of the frosted tips)

-Adrien Plays this off, saying he isn’t a fan. He doesn’t really have anything against him personally, just worried he would lose Marinette if they became a thing.

-Gabriel moonlights as Hawkmoth, Nathalie is his assistant slash sassy Shego- like sidekick, that has blue skin and she has glowing blue hands. She is able to hide the blue skin when being Gabriel’s real life assistant.

-Adrien isn’t as fashionable or cool in this au. He is simply a laid back yet talented person that kind of goes along with Kp. He is a bit weird, and most girls are bit off put by Plagg. But he never really minded.

-Hawkmoth doesn’t actually make a direct appearance until later seasons, but he is usually manipulating Other villains to do his evil bidding.

-Gabriel doesn’t actually realize Adrien is foiling his plans with Marinette. The headlines mostly focus on Marinette and the papers always get Adrien’s name wrong. 

-Adrien lives with his mom, Gabriel and Emilie got a divorce when Adrien was in middle school. Emilie swore that it wasn’t anything horrible. She is dating again now, its a bit awkward for Adrien. But he deals with it. (Plus his dad is loaded and pays child support) so they both live comfortably.

-Chloé actually digs Adrien since he became hot, but she would spruce him up before dating him. But she is still mean and is a lot more secretive of her crush.

-Alya is fully aware that Marinette is in love with Adrien, but the girl is in Hard denial over it. Marinette plays up her Crush on Luka more. Alya lets her do what she wants. But she is waiting for Marinette to admit it.

-Nino is in this au, and he becomes Adrien’s guy best friend. He meets Alya later on and they both get close.

-Adrien focuses his efforts on Kagami, who is a lot more like (Yori mixed with Zita so tough disciplined and competitive)

-Luka does think Marinette is cute, and is fine going on a date with her. But he ends up dating Kagami (Because thats what happened to Ron with Tara)

-Marinette got over Luka during that time.

-Adrien has the pants thing happen to him a lot.

-Marinette buys him a belt.

-Marinette only stammers around guys she likes. Which Adrien know she does. So he was confused when occasionally when he complimented her (Like he always does, she stammered) He assumed its because his crush on her was showing and she felt Awk-weird.

-So the drama (Or this AU’s equivalent happens) Felix is Eric (a syntho drone used to act Like Marinette’s perfect potential bf)

-Hawkmoth gets arrested and finds out that Adrien was the one helping Marinette spoil his plans.

-It was a shock to find out that his father was a super villain.

-”So thats why Mom divorced you. I thought it was because you were boring. This makes more sense.”

-Marinette and Adrien Finally become an item during Junior prom.