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#emily's glee tag
hummels-turn · 3 months ago
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♫ emily’s glee tag - five days of blaine [4/5] - one romance
​​​ ⠀ ⤿​​​ ⠀ ❝ everyone who's come into my life has always tried to pull me out into the sun or push me back into the darkness. and then you came along and even if someone had told me that it wasn't gonna work out, and that at the end of all of our struggling and all of our work, it would just end in heartache. . . I would've said yes ❞
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fettuccinecaterpillar · 2 days ago
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@gleeful-paintbox-project #2: mash-ups: favorite performances
who i think won in each mashup competition are in colour
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lyssismagical · 10 months ago
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why am I actually thinking about a Glee/Criminal Minds Crossover 💀💀💀
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lotsoforangesoutside · 2 months ago
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Yucky Boys and Fickle Girls
msr | Emily AU | words: 610
“Mulder, I need to talk to you.” Scully says from the dining table, where pictures and envelopes surround her. She is mailing Bill and Charlie some photos of her and Emily, taken by Mulder with his new camera.
“Sorry, can’t move.” Mulder whispers loudly and Scully purses her lips in dismay.
“Why?”
“Baby banana is sleeping on my lap. Don’t wanna wake her.” Scully tries hard to make out what he is saying with all the airy whispering.
“She’s fine, Emily’s always a good sleeper. Just move her off your lap or carry her into her room; I need to talk to you.”
“But…” He protests.
Fine, Scully thinks. We’ll do it your way. She leaves the current task at hand and goes to the living room. “I can come here.”
Mulder’s frown sets off his panic face. “But she’s sleeping!” He points at the lovely face drooling on his jeans.
“Well?” It’s clear that Scully won’t budge, so Mulder reluctantly carries the child into her room. It’s another ten minutes when he reemerges into the living room.
“Are you trying to get out of having a conversation with me, Mulder?” Scully asks with an arched eyebrow.
“No, it just takes that long to tuck in a child.” Mulder explains. “What are we talking about?”
“You. You can’t keep on carrying Emily around. She’ll be 5 soon, and she loves to be carried around, but—”
“But what, Scully? I can’t carry my—” He stops dead on his track. “I can’t carry my little girl around? She can see better that way.”
“Mulder, you carry her everywhere! Mrs. Soto tells me that once Emily saw that you were the one picking her up, she tossed you her backpack, her water bottle, and demanded to be carried.”
“It’s only to the car! That’s like, 50 yards.” Mulder argues, not happy at the teacher for snitching.
“Mulder, Emily can walk, you don’t need to be carrying her around. She’s a big girl.” Scully explains softly.
“But…” He knows this is a losing battle, but he’s not backing down. “I missed out three years of carrying her around. And once she’s a little older, she might start thinking boys are yucky and have cooties and don’t want to have anything to do with me.”
“That won’t happen.” Scully promises.
Mulder persists. “Why can’t I stop carrying her when she tells me that she’s too old to be carried around? Why must we follow...convention? If other men want to carry their daughters until they turn 5, fine, I don’t care, but I don’t understand why I can’t keep on carrying mine?”
Scully’s mouth hangs open for a bit. She forgets how to close it up.
“I’d carry you around too if you’d let me.” He mutters under his breath after a few seconds.
Scully can’t help but laughs. “Oh, Mulder.” She says, covering her mouth with her palm.
“I promise you, Scully, all little girls get to a specific point in their life when they no longer want anything to do with their dads. I can’t take my chances with that.”
“Mulder, have you seen at how Emily dotes on you? I swear, if you weren’t…you, I’d be jealous of how much she likes you.”
“Girls are fickle,” Mulder comments flatly.
She contemplates for a few seconds. “Mulder.” She nudges his knee with hers, “You wanna carry me around?”
Before Scully finishes her sentence, Mulder hurries to scoop her up in his arm, mouth smiling, eyes full of glee, “of course I do!”
Mulder wishes that he lives in an universe where he gets to carry both his big and little Scullys everywhere he goes and no one will bat an eye at him.
Tagging @today-in-fic @mulderscreek, Thank you!
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samuel-de-champagne-problems · 10 months ago
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Cutie Pi
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summary: spencer reid’s second favorite holiday isn’t really a holiday, but it’s sure a day that he’ll never forget
pairing: spencer reid x fem! reader 
warnings: none (fluff) 
word count: 1484 (it’s a shortie) 
Cutie Pi
Spencer Reid usually prides himself on not being surprised by the unexpected. Maybe he chalks it up to being exceptionally observant or just being used to not having someone to go to the lengths to surprise him. He prefers the former to the latter, if he’s being honest with himself. 
But there isn’t anything that could prepare him for the small treat that sits on his desk. Spencer looks around, trying to see if he can figure out who would leave him a treat, tied up in the most perfect wrapping. Spencer drops his bag to the floor, not caring that the germs from the floor would invade his property. There’s a piece of paper attached to the package and he grabs to read the contents.
To My Genius, 
My love for you is like pi- irrational and endless! 
Enjoy this treat cutie pi
Spencer’s cheeks feel warm as he reads the letter. He puts it down on his desk and draws his attention to the sweet treat on his desk. 
Part of him thinks that this must be a trick, but another part of him clings to the hope that out of the billions of people on this planet, someone out there finds him tolerable enough to do something like this. He unties the ribbon, decorated in the first hundred numbers of pi. The small attention to detail brings a small smile to his face. The plastic wrap comes undone and a sweet smelling cherry pie sits in a glass pie plate. 
“Whatcha got over there, kid,” Derek says, walking on over with a swagger that Spencer only hopes he can muster one day. It must be so easy for Derek to get phone numbers or dates or even a text back. 
“It’s uh,” Spencer stammers, trying to come up with an answer that does not reveal to Derek that he either has a secret admirer or someone with a sick sense of humor. For all he knows, an unsub can be out to get him, praying on his weakness for clever math pick up lines and sweets. 
“Look at this, Pretty Boy, looks like you got yourself a secret lover,” Derek says, in a sickly sweet tone. 
Derek reads the note and Spencer reaches to grab it from Derek’s clutches. 
“Hey, man! That’s mine,” Spencer shouts, getting the attention of Y/N and Emily who walk from the conference room into the bullpen. 
“Honestly, Y/N this is the reason I don’t date men,” Emily says, rolling her eyes at Derek, who holds the letter above Spencer’s head and Spencer, who’s leaping in an attempt to rip the letter from Derek’s grasp. 
“Among other things, Emily,” Y/N jokes. 
The two women watch as Spencer continues jumping for the letter, until Y/N realizes what Derek has in his hands. 
“Derek!,” she says, nervously. 
The pair of them look towards their partner, whose voice is laced with anxiety and apprehension. They stop their horseplay and stare at Y/N with an expectation for her to continue. 
“Give back Spencer his letter, please,” she tells him. 
Derek raises his eyebrows with a suspicious expression on his face. It’s almost like he knows, but he can’t possibly know. However, he concedes, more interested in how this will play out if he does not intervene. 
“Here, man” Derek says, handing Spencer back his letter. He folds up the letter carefully, and puts it away safely in his wallet. 
Spencer sits back down at his desk, as JJ and Hotch come in carrying a large pile of cases that need to be reviewed and processed. He replays the last couple of minutes in his mind, while Hotch gives them their assignments for the day. From his glee at the thought of someone making a pie for and using a glass plate, which must mean that they want him to return it to them, or even the letter that burns a hole in his wallet, Spencer can hardly focus on the horrors of the cases that sit before him. 
However, there’s a new development that burns a bigger hole, but this time in his heart. Y/N knew that the piece of paper that Derek lorded above his head was a letter. And the only way he’d know that it’s a letter is if she was the one who wrote it. He sneaks a quick glance her way. Y/N’s desk is catty corner to his. It’s positioned in such a way that the sunlight drips in between the cracks from the blinds.  She buries her mind in the mountain of paperwork that sits piled on her desk. 
How is he going to tell her that he knows she’s the one who gave him the pie and letter? Spencer wishes that he was confident enough to just waltz up to her desk, spin her around in her chair and loudly declare his love for her. But he doubts that she’d even like a big spectacle like that. He finds himself staring for what might be a minute or two too long. Spencer’s nearly perpetual blush deepens as Y/N notices his staring and gives him a shy smile and a wink that Spencer hopes it means more than just a friend teasing a friend while they are swamped with paperwork. 
Time seems to go by slowly that day. Spencer finishes his cases up before the rest of the team even gets through the first 5. When Y/N is not looking or when she goes to take a stretch break in Penelope’s batcave, Spencer reaches over and grabs two or three to finish and quickly returns them to the “DONE” pile on JJ’s desk. 
“Uh, Reid? Can I get some help in the evidence room? I, uh need to review something for something?” Y/N says unconvincingly. 
Noticing her discomfort, Spencer nods in agreement and lets Y/N lead him to the evidence room, far away from prying eyes. 
“So uh Pi Day, huh?” Spencer says, testing the waters to her response. 
Spencer may be an expert in human behavior, but when it comes to Y/N he’s treading water in a shark cage. 
“Oh, yeah. I guess it is?” 
“It is,” Spencer says, as he flicks through the files in the cabinet. 
“Spencer I-”
“Y/N-”
Spencer looks down at Y/N, who gives him a very shy smile. He’s not used to girls being nervous around him, he’s wondering if he’s doing something wrong. The last thing he’d want to do is make Y/N feel uncomfortable. 
“You go first, Y/N” Spencer tells her. 
“Um, do you know where I can find the evidence report from the Timber case?” She asks. 
“Probably right here,” Spencer says, pointing to the files where Y/N was already looking. He moves behind her, almost like he’s wrapping his arms around her. Almost like he’s able to hold her as close as he’d want too. Almost like they are not shifting through files of ballistics and blood samples. 
Y/N can feel Spencer’s breath on the back of her neck. It’s warm and smells like coffee and mint in a surprising mix of smells. Or maybe the warm and spicy scent is his cologne. It’s woodsy and suits him perfectly. She can feel the soft material of his cardigan against her bare arms as he moves his arms up her sides to look through the files. She watches as his ridiculously long fingers practically dance across the pages and pages of manila file folders, only attempting to go as fast as his brain is moving. 
She tries not to think that she could just lean her head against Spencer’s chest and she’d be able to fit perfectly under his chin. He’s standing so close that she’s not sure if it’s her heart beating or if it’s his. It’s not like it even matters, because her heart only beats for him 
“Spencer,” she sounds almost scared to Spencer. 
“Y/N, I know that there’s no Timber case,” Spencer tells her. Y/N turns around, half shocked that he figured her out and half terrified of rejection. 
“You did,” 
“Yeah, Y/N. I’m your genius, after all,” Spencer jokes. 
“How’d you know, Spence, I swore that you could not have seen me-”
“When you told Derek to give me back the letter, you knew that it was a letter. How else would you know that it was a letter if you didn’t write the letter,” Spencer reasons.
“I’m sorry-”
“Hey, hey, no apologizing, Y/N. I’m glad it’s you, I’m thrilled it’s you, if I’m honest with myself, I wouldn’t want it to be anyone, but you” Spencer tells her, pushing a stray piece of hair behind ear. 
“Honestly, Spence?” 
“Hmm, I’ll love you longer than pi, Y/N” 
“That’s good Spencer, because I really want you to kiss me now.”
author’s note: thank you for reading :)
tags: @dr-omalley​
if anyone would like to be tagged, you can comment and i’ll add you
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hercleverboy · a year ago
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the comfort of rain
spencer reid x reader
summary ↠ spencer reid is her soulmate, isn’t he?
category ↠ angst
warnings/includes ↠ heartbreak, unrequited love
word count ↠ 1.6k
“Do not bother holding on to that thing that does not want you. You cannot make it stay.” — Rupi Kaur
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Spencer Reid was her soulmate.
She was sure of it. The pair had been inseparable since she’d started working with the BAU four years prior, practically joined at the hip, never one without the other. 
He’d never fail to bring her breakfast on days filled with paperwork, when he knew she’d barely slept and craved nothing more than a banana muffin from the bakery down the road. He simply placed it on her desk with a warm smile, receiving a thankful one from her in return. 
Such a small gesture, but it meant the world to her. 
He would press little kisses to the crown of her head after they arrested an unsub, a small act of thankfulness that she was ultimately unharmed. An appreciation that she was okay, safe. 
For all intents and purposes, they were only best friends. Though she’d been helplessly in love with him for years, and she had an inkling he felt the same. She didn’t want to make assumptions, but then again she was the only person he ever really got up close and personal with. Sure, he’d hug the other team members too occasionally, but she didn’t see him holding Emily or JJ’s hands on the jet home after a case that ended badly. He didn’t give them countless book recommendations, or spend his evenings watching TV shows that she was in love with just so they’d have something else to talk about.
He always offered her his coat when it was cold, or when the rain began to fall heavily and she was only in her shirt and jeans (despite how he’d commented, as he looked up at the sky, that it was likely going to rain based on the colour of the clouds. She never listened to him.) 
One of his most treasured memories is the time they were hanging out at his place on a rare Saturday that they didn’t have to go into work for a case. They were watching some eight-part crime series on Netflix that she’d finally convinced him to watch with her, after her complaining about needing someone to talk about it with. The loud clap of thunder cracked through the sky, making her jump up from his couch in excitement, looking out the window as rain began to fall heavily from the grey clouds above. She looked out silently as the rain pattered, watching how people on the street below rushed to find shelter from the unexpected downpour. 
Spencer frowned, coming to stand behind her. 
“I love the rain.” She commented, noting his presence behind her. 
His frown deepened. “Why? It’s cold and wet and- gross.” 
She chuckled quietly at his comment. “You’re not wrong there, but I meant more that I love watching the rain. I like the way it sounds. The way it smells. It reminds me that I’m alive. It’s comforting.”
It was quiet for a little, the sound of the rain pinging harshly against the window. 
“Pluviophile.”
She turned back to him, speaking softly. “What?”
“Pluviophile. It refers to a person who loves the sound of the rain. They often find a sense of joy or peace of mind during rainy days.”
She bit her lip to stifle her smile and turned back to the window, giving him a simple nod in return.  She was always somehow surprised by his never-ending plethora of knowledge.
They stood and watched the downpour together in a comfortable silence.
Spencer supposed the rain wasn’t so bad, after that.
In the recent weeks, she found herself wanting so badly to confess her feelings, but as every friends to lovers story goes- she feared rejection. She feared him leaving. And she’d certainly rather love him from afar than confess her feelings and risk losing him.
He’d managed to embed himself so deeply in her heart that she was sure there could never be anyone else for her.
She was mesmerised by him. Compelled by every word that left his mouth, enthralled by all his random knowledge and infinite number of stories he’d committed to his memory. When they sat on his couch watching Doctor Who, she’d gladly listen to any time travel related ranting he wanted to get off of his chest, without any interruptions or eye rolls. (She could listen to him talk forever.)
She’d often fall asleep on his shoulder, and he’d smile down gently at his best friend, a woman he cared so deeply for. 
She stuck by him throughout everything, and she never sugar-coated things. If she thought he was being petty or overreacting slightly in a situation she was the first to bring it up, to call him out. And he’d listen, too, because he trusted her more than anyone and it’s likely she was right about it. She took care of him, in a way that no one ever had before. It was unspoken between them that they’d essentially die for one another, two souls destined to be one another’s everything. 
When he confided in her one night that he was afraid that he should’ve amounted to more, she was quick to soothe his worries. She held him as he sniffled into her shoulder, with hushed reassurances that he was already doing incredible things, and that his work was making the world a safer place, one case at a time.
She was particularly close to JJ, the woman who had become like a sister to her. She told JJ of her feelings for Spencer, and the blonde had just smiled at her in response, as if it had been obvious. 
“You should go for it.”
“Really? You think so?”
“Think so? I know so. We’ve all seen the way he looks at you. You mean everything to him.”
That conversation was the final push she needed to decide that it was time to come clean about her feelings.
With the nervous pit in her stomach being overwhelmed by the excitement she felt, she tried to clear her thoughts. She could only hope this went well. She was meant to meet Spencer at his place for the evening, and so knocked gently on the door when she arrived, taking deep breaths to prepare herself.
The door swung open, Spencer flashing her a smile when he saw her. “Hey! I’m glad you’re here, I have something to tell you.”
She grinned, making her way past him into the apartment. “Oh god, what did you do this time? Did you misplace your phone again?” She joked, sliding off her jacket.
Spencer shook his head, biting his lip to supress his smile. 
“Okay. Then what is it?” 
He smiled then, and it was a smile she’d hadn’t seen him wear before. One that was so much bigger than the rest, one that reached his eyes and made them glimmer with hope and glee.
“I- um. I met someone.”
and just like that, her face dropped. 
“Her name is Maeve, she’s a Geneticist. We’ve been talking over the phone for about a month now. I know what you’re going to say, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before. I just wanted to see if it was going to go anywhere-“
Her ears stopped tuning in to what he was saying. She could only hear the pounding of her heart filling her ears, tears burning her eyes as she tried her best to keep them at bay. That’s the smile he’d had, the one she couldn’t quite place at first. She recognised it now. The realisation hit her like a train. 
Lovesick.
Spencer had stopped talking, looking at her with concern. “Are you okay?”
She snapped her head up to meet his eyes.
No, I’m not okay. I’m in love with you.
Is what she wanted to say. 
Instead- 
“Sorry, Spencer. I think I’m gonna have to take a rain check tonight. I’m feeling a little sick, so I think I’m just going to head home.” 
“Oh, are you sure? You can always stick around here for a bit, I could take care of you. You know, technically I am a doctor.” He grinned, attempting a joke.
She didn’t laugh, but gave him her best fake smile, one she could only hope he didn’t read too much into. She hoped he couldn’t see the tell-tale profiler signs of devastation on her features that she was so desperately trying to hide. 
If he did notice, he said nothing about it. 
She shook her head. It was taking everything in her to hold herself together, but she’d be damned if she ruined his happiness because of her own pitiful feelings.
She remembered the smile, his beautiful, lovesick smile. It was for Maeve, not her. It made her heart ache in a way that felt like it was trying to claw its way out of her chest. 
“It’s okay. I’ll uh- I’ll text you later.” She mumbled, grabbing her coat before leaving the apartment, leaving a confused Spencer behind. 
However, all was forgotten when his phone started buzzing, Maeve’s name flashing across the screen. He smiled.
Outside in the car park, she sat in her car as the thunder cracked above her, the treacherous rain coming down in harsh hits against her windshield.
She found herself grateful for the rain in that moment, as the dam holding her emotions back broke, tears flooding down her cold, pink-tinted cheeks.
She placed her head in her hands and began to sob, her uneven breaths and heartbroken cries being slightly muffled by the patters of the rain hitting the gravel outside.
She felt comforted by the sound.
It was as though the sky was crying with her.
Yes, Spencer Reid was her soulmate.
But she just wasn’t his.
Tag list - @beyonces-breastmilk @pinkdiamond1016 @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @thelovelyrose @averyhotchner @cynbx
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marvelwomen-simp · 5 months ago
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Who I write (and don't write) for and requests
Hello everyone, it's me, Bella💐 here is some information about my account :>
My Masterlist
My WIP's
Taglists
join the taglist of your choice below!
Marvel Taglist
DC taglist
Other Characters taglist
Actresses and Singers taglist
Tags
All my works will be in #ara's storys and if you want to read something about a specific character search in #a: (character/famous)
All your questions/opinions/thoughts/personal headcanons will be in #ara answers :p
My wips will be in #ara's wips
All my works will be filtered with their corresponding genre. For example:
Everything that contains smut will be filtered with the hashtag #a: smut
and so on with the rest of the genres that I write in the future :]
Requests
Just send me a DM or something and I will write the fic ahdkahdk. If you want, you can send me prompts from this post :D
Please be as specific as possible when requesting😗
Who (what) I don't write For.
First off all , i do not write any male x female or male x male fics. But I may write some transfem!reader/character 🦖
Pedophilia, Incest
Male!reader
Rape
Homophobia, racism, offensive content in general.
Who (what) I write for
«I will only write characters as love interests»
Marvel
Basically every female MCU character xd
Resident Evil Village
(in the future, I need to practice this a bit xdxd)
Alcina Dimitrescu
Daniela Dimitrescu
Bela Dimitrescu
Cassandra Dimitrescu
Donna Beneviento
Glee
Santana Lopez
Quinn Fabray
Brittany Pierce
Marley Rose
Kitty Wilde
Mercedes Jones
Tina Cohen-Chang
Rachel Berry
Holly Holliday
Jane The Virgin
Jane Villanueva
Petra Solano
Lina Santillan
Rose/Sin Rostro
Luisa Alver
DC
Kara Danvers/Supergirl
Alex Danvers
Lena Luthor
Diana Prince
Criminal Minds
Emily Prentiss
Jennifer "J.J" Jareu
Penelope Garcia
Pretty Little Liars
Emily Fields
Alison DiLaurentis
Spencer Hastings
Aria Montgomery
Hanna Marin
Teen Wolf
Lydia Martin
Allison Argent
Melissa McCall
Singers and actresses
All Marvel actresses
Jennifer Lawrence
Jennifer Lopez
Jennifer Aniston
Jennifer Garner
Sarah Paulson
Sandra Bullock
Salma Hayek
Yael Grobglas
Gal Gadot
Naya Rivera
Dianna Agron
Heather Morris
Melissa Benoist
Chyler Leigh
Katie McGrath
A. J. Cook
Paget Brewster
Aubrey Plaza
Emily Procter
Emily Wickersham
Coté de Pablo
Lucy Hale
Shay Mitchell
Ashley Benson
Troian Bellisario
Sasha Pieterse
Lauren Jauregui
Camila Cabello
Dinah Jane
Normani Kordei
Ally Brooke (not smut)
Bridget Regan
Holland Rhoden
Dua Lipa
Ariana Grande
Olivia Rodrigo (not smut)
Mila Kunis
Rachel Weisz
Hailee Steinfeld
What I Write for
Fluff
Angst
Smut (I'll write for any kinks xd)
Threesomes/foursomes/gangbang
Poly relationships
AU's
For now, I will write only for this
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multimilfs · a year ago
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Miranda Priestly x Fem!Reader: A Little Nudge
Summary: Anon requested “Could I request a slightly angsty Miranda Priestly X Reader? Maybe the reader is in the hospital (it's up to you why they're there) and they're panicking because they think they're gonna get fired. Miranda can replace them within the hour, after all.Miranda shows up to the hospital after hearing what happened and reassures Reader that they're fine. She confesses to the Reader because she was so scared something horrible had happened to them and she was gonna lose them. (sorry im just in a sad mood and im weak for hospital scenes)”
A/N: It’s been ages since I’ve written for TDWP so be kind to me, please! I really hope you like it!
Tag List: @ghostsunderstoodmysoul​ @multifandomfix​
Warning(s): None
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“Why is nobody ready?”
Miranda drawled from behind her desk, glancing at her watch with annoyance. Everyone near her held their breath; nobody having the guts to tell her that it was because you weren’t back yet. 
You were supposed to be back with the accessories from D&G ten minutes ago.
Jocelyn and the run-through team exchanged terrified glances. Someone was going to lose their job today. And knowing Miranda, it was going to be one of them.
They had been relying on the accessories to complete the outfits they’d prepared. An abysmal thing to do, but you’d promised that you would be back early. Now you were nowhere to be found.
Miranda was conveniently unaware of your absence. She was under the impression you weren’t supposed to be back for some time, thanks to a few carefully worded statements from Nigel. If she got wind that you’d gone awol, it’d be hell on earth for everyone in the Runway offices.
Standing beside Miranda’s desk, Nigel saw Serena approach the office. The model stopped when Nigel shook his head. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“Talk to Emily.” He mouthed silently.
She did just that, turning elegantly on her heel to see the Brit dialing numbers frantically. Poor Emily hadn’t even noticed that Serena was there.
“Why is Nigel telling me to talk to you?” Serena asked softly.
Emily startled slightly, before looking relieved to have some type of help. She put the phone down on the hook quickly.
“Y/N has vanished,” Emily whispered, “I can’t get her to answer her bloody cell phone and she was supposed to be here ages ago!”
“What do you mean she vanished? She doesn’t vanish.” Serena asked.
“You’re telling me. Jocelyn needed the accessories from the winter collection for the run-through and she promised to have them here. Miranda is two minutes from firing them all if we don’t come up with an excuse.”
Emily let her head fall into her hands, repeating her low mantra that she loved her job. Today was not going to be an easy one, it seemed.
A moment before Serena could suggest anything, Miranda’s cold voice echoed from her office.
“So what I’m hearing is that you failed to prepare? After I gave you countless days to finish a simple task.” Miranda asked.
Everyone winced at the chill in her voice. La Priestly wasn’t known for being warm, but this felt like frost-bite.
“We’re just missing the accessories for a few of the outfits.” Jocelyn offered.
Miranda’s hard gaze settled on the girl, making her regret speaking. Drawing attention to herself was the last thing she should have done.
“‘Just’ the accessories,” The editor said dryly, “If you were to go skydiving, I’m sure you’d be fine without a parachute then?”
Jocelyn shook her head quickly. The only way out of this would be for a miracle to strike. She was mentally kissing her job goodbye.
Then Emily’s cell phone rang.
Scrambling for the device, she could have jumped for joy to see your name on the caller ID. She was furious, mind you, but glad to see you were okay.
“Where the bloody hell are you?” Emily hissed in lieu of a greeting.
“Em, I can explain-“
“I’m sure you can, but it better be good or I’m throwing you La Priestly.”
“I’m in the hospital.” You said.
Emily inhaled sharply. She didn’t miss the way your voice cracked over those few words. It may mean more work for her, but an injury like that could cost you your job.
“What did you get yourself into?” Emily asked.
“The heat today exascerbated something and I collapsed, the doctors are running tests now.” You explained softly, lacking the energy you normally had.
Serena watched worriedly as Emily put her forehead down on the desk, letting out a defeated sigh. This felt like the icing on the cake of an already terrible day. She had no idea how to break it to Miranda. The woman was practically reliant on you and your abilities.
“Em?” You whispered over the line brokenly, “Tell Miranda I can have my desk cleared once I’m d-discharged, okay? I understand-“
“No. You-You don’t get to abandon me so close to Paris. I’ll find a way to fix this…”
“It’s okay. I understand what it takes to be one of Miranda’s girls. Collapsing on the job isn’t part of the description.”
“She can make an exception.” Emily snapped.
You sighed on the other end. It broke your heart that you’d probably lose everything now, but you understood that Miranda was far too busy to accept an injured assistant. Even if you did hope that she cared enough to keep you on.
“Do what you can, okay? Just don’t get yourself sacked. I’m at Presbeterian, room 311.”
There were a few more words exchanged before Emily hung up the phone, looking hard at Serena, who stared back with concern.
“Y/N is in the hospital.” She said quietly.
Serena stood with a look of shock on her face. What could have happened to put you in the hospital?
“How are you going to tell Miranda?” She asked instead.
“Beats me, but someone has to.” Emily laughed bitterly.
She stood and walked to the doorway of Miranda’s office, where the woman was regaling Nigel with the incompetence of her staff, who were standing in the room. Nigel noticed Emily and raised an eyebrow in question, to which she shook her head. His face seemed to pale.
Unsure of what to do or say, Emily remained standing in the doorway. She kept her hands clasped in front of her to keep from ringing them.
“Is there a reason for your hovering, Emily?” Miranda asked, her icy gaze resting on her poor assistant.
“Um, well.” She tried, but nothing came out. She froze.
“Do take your time. None of us have jobs to do.”
The editor rolled her eyes, a devious smirk resting on her face. She drew a sort of horrible glee from seeing her employees squirm.
“Y/N is in the hospital.” Serena said.
Any movement in the room stopped immediately. The run-through team held their breath, looking to Miranda.
Upon hearing the words, Miranda felt her heart drop into her stomach. Her hands gripped the edge of her desk hard. Besides something happening to her daughters, something happening to you had become her worst nightmare.
“Excuse me?” She asked, tone just above a whisper.
“She’s conscious, she called to let me know herself where she was,” Emily rushed out, before anyone could make the situation worse, “Something occurred that caused her to collapse, but-“
“I’ve heard enough.”
Miranda was out of her seat the second Emily mentioned that you were awake. That you weren’t gravely injured or in a coma. Her fear eased slightly, but it wouldn’t vanish until she saw you. She was barreling through the office without a care for what was on her agenda.
“Cancel any meetings for the rest of the day and get Roy here immediately. I want access to her room upon my arrival; I don’t care what favors you have to promise or whose egos you have to stroke, get me into that room.”
She snatched her coat and purse from Serena’s hands, rattling off the demands without slowing her pace. Then she was ensconced in the elevator while everyone looked at one another in shock.
“Do you think she’s going to fire her?” Emily asked Nigel, who laughed.
“I think that is the last thing she plans on doing. Now I’d get on the phone with Roy…”
Eyes widening, Emily let out a yelp, rushing towards her desk. Nigel just shook his head; of course Miranda would hold out on her feelings until you fell injured. She apparently just needed that final nudge. 
———
In your hospital room, you were trying valiantly to hold back tears. Your head was leant back against the pillows, eyes closed. All you could see was Miranda’s face in your mind.
You weren’t sure what happened; one second you were walking down 35th, the next a paramedic was standing over you hounding you for information. If you hadn’t been in an ambulance racing through traffic, you would have demanded they let you out. You had a job to do.
Now, you couldn’t. You had let down the editorial team and Miranda by proxy. It hurt you in a million different ways, but you accepted that you were out of a job. That you would no longer spend the days around the woman you secretly loved.
It sent a pang of pain through your chest. You squeezed your eyes shut against it. Remaining strong, even now, was important to you. It wouldn’t do to let your resolve crumble.
Absentmindedly, you heard someone walk into your room. You let out a loud sigh.
“Look, doc, I told you I’m fine. My head may be throbbing, but I’m not going to die on you. Though I may if I don’t get something other than hospital food.” You laughed.
“I’m sure that can be arranged.”
You snapped your eyes open at the voice that was clearly not your doctor’s. Standing there, looking divine as ever, was Miranda Priestly. The woman you were hopelessly in love with.
“Miranda?”
“No, Donald Trump.” She deadpanned, a smirk pulling at her mouth.
Did Miranda Priestly just make a joke? Your mind asked, though you couldn’t stop the grin that spread on your face. She looked pleased at your reaction.
“You didn’t have to come all this way, you know,” You said softly, reality creeping back in, “I told Emily that I could have my desk cleared as soon as they discharged me.”
“I beg your pardon?” Miranda said, feeling as if the breath had been stolen from her lungs.
“I know how busy your schedule is- Hell, I arranged it. You didn’t have to come all the way here to let me go.”
“Is that why you think I’m here? To fire you?”
“...Isn’t it?”
Miranda let out a hollow sounding laugh, pinching the bridge of her nose. You watched her with thinly veiled confusion. Then she walked to your bedside, hesitantly placing her hand on top of yours. Your heart stopped.
“Silly girl,” Miranda said softly, “Do you think I would come here for something as menial as that? Do you think I’d race here, heart pounding with fear, to fire you?”
You felt like you were in a dream. Given that you were in a hospital, it didn’t seem too outlandish that you were imagining it. But when Miranda leant in and placed a soft kiss on your lips, you knew this was reality. This was no mere dream.
She made to pull away from you, offended at your lack of response, but you wouldn’t let her. Grabbing the lapels of her blazer, you dragged her lips back to yours for a long kiss.
When you finally separated, you felt like you were riding a cloud. This was never what you expected to happen. It was wilder than your wildest dreams.
“So… I take it I’m not fired?” You asked with a cheeky smile.
And so overcome with happiness, Miranda let her normal mask drop, throwing her head back and letting out a joyful laugh.
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girl-of-many-fandoms · a year ago
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I was wondering if you'd consider doing a Hotch x plus size reader? Totally fine if you're not up for it! I have this idea where the reader is a tech person like Penelope & she's around the same age. On a number of occasions she'll stay later to finish her work and it's only her & Hotch left. So she starts this cute little friendship where she'll make him coffee before she leaves. That turns into a crush, then she begins to avoiding him cuz she's shy, then he confronts her saying her likes her.
Late Nights
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Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x PLUS!Reader
Warnings: None
WOWWW this is a long one hope you guys enjoy it 🤗💜
MASTERLIST
-----
“You know, working this late should be against the law for single parents” walking in Hotch’s office I shut the door behind me 
“You’re working late again?” he looked up from the file on his desk smiling at me 
“My stupid systems chose today of all days to act up, I had to upgrade the software and all the fun stuff” placing the extra coffee cup on his desk I plopped down in the chair opposite me
“It’s taking a while to get back online but hopefully I’ll be out of here in the next hour or so” 
For the past couple weeks Hotch had been working late nights and I thought that I’d stay back also in case he needed someone to talk too. As a profiler he sees and deals with a lot of gruesome things that would keep a normal person up all night. At first it was innocent, I’d pop in to check in on him to distract him for a bit or make him his coffee when he insists on staying in the office later than usual  but as we grew closer he started opening up more to me. He started talking about the things they saw and did on the case the team had worked on and then we started talking more about Jack and how he’s doing at school, more personal topics
“I know I’m not the most open when it comes to expressing feelings but I just want to say thank you” Aaron took a sip of his coffee before placing the cup down, eyes glued to my frame
“What are you thanking me for?” he smiled and I couldn’t help but swoon a bit. Aaron doesn’t smile much or show us his soft side so it’s nice to see him this relaxed around me
“For being a friend, for working late nights with me and all the coffee” my stomach fluttered as he went on
“The coffee is good” chuckling I brought my cup to my lips and took a sip in order to help hide the blush that heated up my cheeks
“It is, oh I forgot to ask you, Jack has a soccer game this weekend and he insisted that I asked you to be there” he fiddled with his fingers waiting for my reaction
“Of course, I’ll be there”
------
“Of course, I’ll be there. That’s what I told him, oh God what if I’m reading into this too much” 
I’m currently pacing the floor of Penelope’s bat cave as we waited for the coroner’s report to come in. My phone buzzed for the tenth time today, looking down at the screen I sighed letting it go to voicemail
“Hotch again? You know he doesn’t smile nor opens up so easily to anyone besides you, I wouldn’t be surprised if he likes you” Penelope got cut off by the ringing phone on her desk
“Speak and be heard oh mighty one” 
“Garcia I need you to dig deeper into our victims background” Hotch’s voice filled the room and I immediately sat down 
“Sure, anything specific I’m looking for sir?” she started tapping away at her keyboard doing exactly what he said
“We need to find the connection between all three of them”
“Okay sir, I’ll call you back when I have something” 
“Penelope wait, don’t hang up” she paused with her finger over the end button looking over at me
“Is Y/N with you?” I frantically motioned for her to say no and thankfully she caught on 
“No sir, want me to pass on a message?”
“No, no, uh thanks Garcia” he sounded so defeated and that only made me feel even more guilty. For the past three days I’ve been avoiding Aaron for as much as I could ever since the night in his office, I realized that I was setting myself up for heartbreak. The call ended and she glared at me
“You are hurting that man”
“I know and I feel terrible but I need to put some distance between the both of us”
“He’s in Nevada with the team right now how much more distance do you want?” she deadpanned looking me in the eyes 
“It’s complicated alright”
“It really isn’t” she turned back to her set and started working on the case ending our conversation 
-----
“Welcome back my heroes!”
Garcia held a box of cupcakes up welcoming the team back as they stepped off the elevator. I stood a few feet behind her smiling at them as they grabbed a cake and filled into the bullpen. I was about to follow behind them when a hand held on to my wrist keeping me in place
“Is everything alright?”
Aaron
“Yeah, everything’s fine, why would they be?” I started rambling removing my hand from his hold, avoiding his gaze 
“You say that but I don’t believe you, let’s talk in my office” he opened the door for me and we headed straight to his office. I saw Penelope shoot me a small smile before I entered the room. I took a seat on the sofa as he moved to his desk.
Aaron dropped his go bag on his desk and removed his jacket before joining me on the sofa. He stared into my eyes trying to get a sense of what’s going on, profiling me 
“Is there a reason why you’ve been avoiding me?”
“I haven’t been avoiding you sir” I couldn’t help but pick at my fingernails as nervousness washed over me
“Sir? Y/N, it’s just the two of us and yes, you haven’t even returned any of my calls or texts” I wrecked my brain trying to come up with an excuse but I couldn’t
“I know that there isn’t any other way to say this but, the other night when we were in here I had to tell you something but I didn’t know how you were going to take it, I still don’t-” he rambled scratching the back of his neck
“Aaron” placing my hand on his knee I cut him off, he took my small hand in his gently brushing the back of my hand using his thumb
“I like you” he blurted and I froze, my heartrate sped up the longer we sat here staring at each other
Say something idiot!
“Why me?”
Dear God, you should’ve stayed quiet
“What do you mean why you?”
“I’m not your type Aaron”
“What’s my type then?”
“Someone like Emily, brave, courageous, can actually shoot to save herself, skinny, gorgeous” I mumbled the last two hoping he didn’t hear them but he did
“You don’t have to be skinny to be gorgeous and besides, you are perfect, you’re funny, sweet, caring, determined, charismatic, I could go on” he smiled giving my hand a gentle squeeze as we held each other’s gaze
“Most importantly, you make me feel safe” my breathing hitched as we sat here, neither one of us wanting to break the moment 
“I like you too Aaron” 
------
The referee blew the whistle ending the soccer match and Jack jumped with glee with his team as they were the winners. I cheered and clapped happy for the little boy who scored one of the winning goals as he ran directly to his father. Smiling I made my way over to the Hotchner boys and Jack broke free from Aaron’s arms and rushed over to me
“Good job buddy, you did so great!” wrapping my arms around the child I kissed the top of his head 
“Did you see me score?” he pulled back enough to look up at me and I cupped his flushed cheeks in my palms
“I did and that was an excellent bicycle kick”
“Jack!” one of his teammates called him over for a group photo and he ran off. A pair of arms snaked around my waist pulling me flush against the owner, Aaron
“You did great with them” spinning around I wrapped my arms around his middle 
“I did the best I could with a group of ten year olds” 
“Thanks for coming it means a lot to me and I know it does to him too”
“No need to thank me, I had a good time listening to chatty Cathy to your left go on about how hot you look in those shorts” he laughed pulling me in closer to him
“Join us for dinner tonight, it’s been a while since he’s seen you and it’ll be good to have you around more”
“Sounds like a plan” pushing myself upwards I kissed him and he immediately responded. I swear I was about to explode from the electricity that flowed through my body from having his lips on mine
We were so wrapped up in our moment that we had forgotten about the crowd of people that surrounded us until they started wolf whistling and cheering us on. Breaking apart my face became heated from the blush that overtook my cheeks. Aaron looked down at me with a boyish grin clearly enjoying the moment
“How’s that for our first kiss?” 
“Not quite what I was expecting”
“C’mon let’s head back to my place” taking my hand in his he called out to his son and we headed to his car. The both of them quickly fell into conversation and I must admit, seeing Hotch domesticated has got to be the hottest thing ever 
The bond that these two have is very special and I can’t wait to share more moments like this with them
------
HEY GUYS PSA!! If any of you lovely readers would love to tagged in my fics let me know and I’ll gladly add you to the list ❤️
Tag list:
@calm-and-doctor
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madeline-kahn · 8 months ago
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Happy Monday and welcome to my tenth installment of weekly shoutouts of really great edits. A number of these are from @iridescentides gifmaker positivity meme, check out all the posts under #gmpmeme2021! Posts included in this list (as well as a few more) are tagged with #csw10, everything involved with series I tag #creatorso
merlin: guinevere by @ughmerlin
merlin: brave girl by @mazykeen
sab: genyalina + august by @genyazafin
sab: episode 6 by @pietro-maximoff
sab: inej by @meliorn
sab: helnik by @lucifer-morningstars
sab: crows by @firesbending
sab: characters + colors of the sky by @alinastarkhov
sab: quotes by @seance
sab: helnik by @ajmichalka
olivia rodrigo: good 4 u references by @starkkov
olivia rodrigo: sour lyrics by @loseyoutoloveme
olivia rodrigo: sour by @pureheroines
olivia rodrigo: rainbow grid by @oliviasrodrigo
taylor swift: album colors by @tayorswift
taylor swift: rainbow by @planet-her
jatp: unsaid emily/oh emily by @pink-flame
jatp: carrie by @molinareggie
jatp: julie by @favoriteliar
jatp: juke + saying names by @thereigning-lorelai
jatp: emmy nominations by @jakeperalta
bly manor: jamie and dani by @mazieken
bly manor: dani by @genyasafins
one tree hill: haley by @dejau
one tree hill: one gif by @chuckclayton
brooklyn 99: comic style by @peraltastarkov
gilmore girls: highest rated episodes by @jakeperalta
star wars: revenge of the sith by @margeaery
star wars by @millenniumsfalcon
cruella (all iterations) costumes by @gothamcity
the wizard of oz by @buffysummers
spider-man: into the spider-verse by @rockyblue
the lord of the rings by @anyataylorjoy
lotr: one gif by @jackarthurdavenport
glee: santanta (one gif) by @iridescentides
cillian murphy by @acasterjames
Thanks for being awesome! 
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hummels-turn · 6 months ago
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♫ emily’s glee tag - five days of quinn [3/5] - two friendships
​​​ ⠀ ⤿​​​ ⠀ ❝ quinn fabray, I believe in you ❞
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shadowdianne · 4 months ago
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Fic writer review [Or a fic writer tag game if you prefer]
I was tagged by @naralanis and I can already see her grin all the way from where I am xd Thank you, dear, for the tag, let’s see what are my answers, shall we.
1. How many works do you have on AO3?
*bursts out laughing* Adding both pseuds I have… 535 according to the account info but by counting them all I’m reaching 541 so I’m guessing it’s counting some drafts I need to re-find.
2. What’s your total AO3 word count?
I seriously hated you for this one xd I was going to do it by hand by I decided one-third there that I value my mental stability a little bit more xd according to the stats page back at a03 that number would be 1257884. It may be wrong. I think there should be a few more numbers up there but the majority of my works are one-shots so *shrugs* There’s also the fact that counting my ao3 things only is shaving off like half of it Xd Anyway, can we laugh at the fact that I’m a pain in the ass and that I’ve written a lot? More than I should have, that’s for sure
3. How many fandoms have you written for?
Trick question because I haven’t crossposted everything I wrote back in ffnet and I actually erased some fics from my account back there so the numbers are a little blurry there.
When I had the entirety of my work posted both in ffnet and a03 I had written for: Twilight (Bella/Alice) Glee (Faberry and there were a couple Pezberry and I don’t fucking remember the pairing name for Santana and Quinn), Harry Potter (Hermione/Ginny, Hermione/Narcissa, Hermione/Bellatrix) OUAT (SwanQueen and several oneshots focusing on the mad hatter and the blue fairy solely back at ffnet that were written in Spanish and never translated), I actually had a veeeery old au prompt of Frozen (Elsanna in where I wrote them as non sibilings), Rizzoli and Isles (Rizzles), Dishonored 2 (Emily Kaldwin/Alexi Mayhew), Lara Croft and Wonder Woman, Supergirl (SuperCorp/Supercat) I had a 100 one -or maybe two??- (Clexa), The Shannara Chronicles (Amberle/Eretreia [Or Princess Rover], Rwby [Blake Belladona/Yang], The Worst Witch (Hecate Hardbroom and Pippa Pentangle), The Half of it, Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (Madam Satan/Zelda Spellman) and… I think that’s it(?) I may be forgetting some but probably nothing important if I’m not remembering it lol.
4. Top 5 fics by kudos?
Ah, we are going to go there, uh? Xd My works are not the kudos and comment getting type Xd So I was quite surprised when I went to check this.
1: Cracked it I wrote this one back in 2017, it was a prompt done by an anon: Lena is nerding with one of her projects at home, mumbling mostly to herself because she’s stuck and Kara casually mentions how to solve the problem like it’s nothing. I really had some fun with this. It was back when some us, SQeeners were fully doing the jump between OUAT and SuperGirl (I mean, there had already been some crossover as for fandom is related but this when the girls were actually getting their conjoined voice within the fandom)
2: Dateless I honestly needed to check what this one was about but I think I can see why this one shot has the amount of kudos it has. It’s a short and sweet idea and responds to the Teachers Au that went SO well with SQ. Everyone thinks they hate each other and try to set them up with other people whilst they, in truth, are dating. I don’t remember if I wrote them as married rather than dating but despite being from 2017 as well is one cheeky enough to be cool Xd I probably would edit some lines now *shudders*
3: After you I truly didn’t expect this one to be top 3. Makes me think of a lot of things, if I’m being honest Xd. After you was a one shot written almost feverishly as an answer to the fabulous drawings that Sejic did of both Lara Croft and Wonder Woman back at 2018 or something. It’s just Lara and Diana being himbos but not at all with each other.
4: How about… How about is one I remember perfectly, it was my answer to the ending of the Half of it film. I had SOME thoughts about it, let’s just stop there Xd I really liked the film itself but I think and I thought at the time that my response to wishing for a final scene at the very end of the credits responds to me being in a different personal moment than the characters. I really wanted to explore my feelings about it and so I wrote about them finding each other again after some time passes. It was also something I wrote after quite the hiatus so I took it as something I could write about without focusing too much on the why.
5: Come to me
Ahh, SuperCorp Xd I remember this one actually. A friend of mine and I were talking about descriptions, and she mentioned quite off-handedly how she wanted a fic in where Kara’s back was described. I complied… more or less.
Fun tidbit, despite the big volume of my work is obviously set in ouat there’s only 1 SQ fic there as you can see, the others are either SuperCorp or the random one shots I created for Wonderwoman/Lara Croft and The half of it. *sighs in deep thought* I’m also not going to look too much into how almost all of the fics were posted and written back in 2017. Nope, not at all.
*Small voice screaming you peaked in 2017 and everything else is garbage jumps back and forth*
5. Do you respond to comments? Why/why not?
I tend to always respond, yup. I truly value comments. I might have gone for spells of time in where I didn’t have the mental capacity to check in old fics because I truly didn’t know what to answer but I treasure every single comment and you all who comment know that I can start to ramble in the answers xd -sorry about that- I really really REALLY love interaction.
6. A fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending:
Ok, Nara, come on, this one is a catch for me. I’ve written angst in far too many fics to remember the angstiest one :P I have the most recent one, though, that is the easy one to think about: Goodbye.Written for @delirious-comfort. I’m just going to say “Kisses with their last dying breath” as an idea of what awaits inside but I’ve written about death and loss and angst quite a lot. There were some I wrote back to SQ with Regina needing to kill Emma during the Dark Swan arc that, to this day, I still love and some others in where Regina is the one that dies, again and again, trapped by magic while Emma watches. I have the loss in mental destruction form and… I REALLY like my angst y’know xd
7. Do you write crossovers?
Not counting Lara and Wonder Woman not really! I think it comes from the fact that I loooove worldbuilding as a whole and some pairings would require all my focus into making the world perfect which in turn would make me self conscious on the OOCness of it all.
8. Ever received hate on a fic?
*snorts* I’ve received hate due to the pairing I’ve written about, how I’ve written about it, the amount I’ve written, how slow or quick I can be, the usage of some tropes, the lack of usage of those same tropes… Let’s just go with: yuuuup.
9. Do you write smut?
I’ve written smut, yeah! But I can already see the pointed looks of some so let’s elaborate Xd I write smut when asked and sometimes when not asked but there’s a part of me I like to call a terrible tease that prefers writing the beginning of a scene, taunt it, focus on what happens before the sex scene per se as I find it more enjoyable to write. The process of escalation is always the best for me to see what can I do it by using both dialogue and descriptors tbh, so I tend to tease more than show.
9. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
A few weeks ago I’d have said: Maybe(?) But trying to follow the trail of some other fics that had been stolen from some friends -I think it was me trying to find more about the page that stole something from your Nara!- I found some pages in where my fics had been reposted. In some it was stated that the person posting the fic wasn’t the author but I had never been contacted in order to see if I’d say yes to such a thing and in some others the page was locked up but I could still see someone was pretending to be the author. I did the thing and got some of those down.
Pointed note: Ask me if you want to post or translate or anything. I will look into you and answer you if you seem honest about the thing. But despite every joke and self-deprecating comment those 500 and then some fics represent MY time so very kindly I say fuck off to those who wish to steal from me and if I catch you… you don’t really want to see me angry, trust me.
10. Ever had a fic translated?
I’ve given permission to some, yeah, but never heard it back from them so I’m guessing it didn’t stick.
12. Have you ever co-written a fic?
I’ve written series alongside other authors as @stregaomega for example. And some others that are unpublished -looking at you @carsonnieve - I’ve also done collabs… but fics co-written in the sense of two authors same chapters I don’t have anything posted I’m afraid :P
13. All-time favourite ship?
*snorts*, I guess the obvious answer is SQ uh? And I do think they were the ones that allowed me to read and write SO much. The one I feel more strongly about, however, is Bering and Wells from Warehouse 13.
14. WIP you want to finish, but don’t think you ever will?
All of them counts as a valid answer? But if I only could finish one that would be Arcadia. With A forgotten Promise second and the one I did as an Assassins Creed AU third. (I don’t remember the name so there’s no link, sorry xd)
15. Writing strengths?
Uhhhh, you REALLY want me to say that? I don’t fucking know!! To me everything I write is garbage. I always try to go for the feelings so I guess. Dunno xd I’ve been told I’m good at worldbuilding and to be honest is what I enjoy the most.
16. Writing weaknesses?
Everything Xd Pacing? What I hate the most sometimes is dialogue, I would count it as a weakness but I’m always far too focused on description rather than dialogue. I don’t think it’s a bad thing per se but it’s something that I don’t do as much.
17. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in a fic?
I’m conflicted. Always. Majorly because I think that having bilingual characters in fanfiction is portrayed and expected in a way that I don’t feel it’s honest with how bilingual people -us- talk. So if I go by what I know I do I think it’s not what readers hope to see when it comes to that and if I go for how canonically is hoped to be found I don’t think it’s logical. But that’s me and my overthinking Xd If I have the option I like to do it.
18. First fandom you ever wrote for?
Belice! Or Bella/Alice. Worst first fic ever but oh, well, I’m always saying that :P
19. What’s your fav fic you’ve written so far?
Uhh… Don’t make me do this XD Agh, I don’t know. I’ve always been very vocal about Metallic Ink because I let myself enjoy the process of creating a magic system almost out of zero and that was fun. Despite hating some of the writing process and that I’d do it differently now I think I’m going to stick with that answer. Or anything that had any steampunk-based undertone. To be honest I like more thinking of concepts, I had one in where Emma was a thief and it involved the robbery of a ring that was Regina’s one way ticket to freedom I then later repurposed that I adored thinking about so let’s go with…. Yeah, I love having the option of changing things up a little and focus on how characters would fit in different aesthetics for this one Xd
Annnd… these are four pages, gods. I’m just going to tag @waknatious @carsonnieve @stregaomega here and see what they do- Enjoy the questionnaire ladies :P
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creativeashproductions · a year ago
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Mountains and Lessons // Luke Patterson
Summary: A bucket list item Reggie had had was to experience a white Christmas. He ended up dying before hand and his opportunity brings up. All Luke wants is music and warmth, not stuck on a stupid mountain in cold Colorado. Alex is excited to get out of Californai for once.
Warning: Swearing, death, angst, Christmas themed but not Christmas and fluff
Words: 4.9k
A/N: Breaks my heart that Reggie potentially never got to experience making snow angels, snow people and join a snowball fight. But my theme appears to be angst so there’s that as well.
TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX PLEASE!
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Julie had a structured routine and schedule she liked to follow in her life, not strict but definitely a guideline. Monday to Friday, like ever minor, spent the majority of the time in a classroom. After school, she would return home straight to the kitchen for a quick snack before spreading her homework on the kitchen island. The homework was typically one hour before Julie would head out to the studio for band rehearsal.
Flynn, as the band manager, had declared Friday’s to be band free just so that Julie and Flynn could hang out. Saturday’s consisted of morning band practice, the early afternoon had a songwriting session with Luke. In the late evening after an early supper, the band would head to the gig they had gotten. Sunday’s however were strictly days off from the band no matter what, the boys would go their own ways for the day as well.
Today, for the young teenager was a Friday but Flynn had strep throat confining herself to her house. No visitors and her electronics taken away to get rest. It was incredibly dull, and no one wanted to go against Flynn’s words because she could be scary.
Julie had done her homework, did her chores, revised a new song, started a new book and added more doodles to her shoes. Now she was laying on her bed staring at the ceiling with her headphones in.
“Julie?” Ray spoke from her open bedroom door. The man received no reaction with his daughter’s head in the clouds, “Julie? I need to talk to you.”
Ray walked over to his daughter to tug the bud out of her left ear bringing the girl back down to land. The teenager sat up to look at her father.
“What’s up?”
“Can you meet me in the living room?” Ray’s blue eyes crinkled at the corners from the many laughs he had shared in his lifetime. While she was confused, Julie proceeded to follow her father down to the lively decorated room.
Carlos had already been corralled to the living room couch listlessly staring in the distance with no iPad on his person. The lack of electronic was a red flag to the musician, the girl settled on the couch while Ray shifted things on the coffee table.
Once settled on the wood coffee table, he focused on his children, “We’ve always discussed big decisions in our family. We had an open discussion of retracting our initial decision to move.”
“Is this about my bed? I can clean it! I will-“
“Carlos! This isn’t about under your bed, we do need to have a conversation about that young man.” Carlos pointed one finger in Carlos’ direction before addressing the situation, “This year is the first year we’ll celebrate Christmas without…”
“Mom.” Both Carlos and Julie murmured slumping down at the stifling reminder of the loss the Molina’s had suffered.
Julie clenched her jaw, forcing the grief down as her hand crept over to hold Carlos’ hand in comfort. The glittering of his eyes and the gnawing on his lower lip dead giveaways he was losing the battle with sadness. Ever since Julie was a kid, she had always been there for Carlos, not saying they didn’t fight. Evidence as Carlos’ requesting a normal sister.
“It’s going to be different. I got offered an excellent contract by a ski resort, we could potentially renovate the bathroom.” Ray’s eyebrows came together as the touchy topic came about.
After Rose died, it had dented the Molina’s financials with the loss of income, the money didn’t matter compared to the person. When the sun shone through the dark clouds, it had affected the way the Molina’s had to live. Of course, the Molina’s had it better than most with a house over their head and food on the table.
Ray just wanted the best for his kids.
“We could build snowmen?” Carlos gleefully exclaimed beaming at the sheer image of seeing snow in person.
“That’s the thing. The ski resort hosts a handful of parties by companies and clients. The contract is photographing the events for their website. All expenses paid and it could open doors to more clients.”
The idea tore Julie in half. Not decorating the tree with her family, Tia Victoria’s tamales that changed every year and carolling with her friends. A lot of traditions wouldn’t happen that had been constant for the Molina family. New Year Eve’s movie night with Flynn wouldn’t happen; the two girls exchanged wrapped Christmas pyjamas to wear.
On the other hand, the new scenery would distract Julie from the broken Christmas holiday without Mom. Julie always wanted to experience a white Christmas for the snow angels, the snowmen, spontaneous snowball fights, sledding and hot cocoa to warm up after the cold.
In the end, it was the glee on Carlos’ face and the excitement on her father’s that had her caving.
“Let’s do it.” Julie faked her enthusiasm before excusing herself from the conversation of Carlos’ disgusting bedroom.
The young teenager shuffled her way to the studio yearning for the piano to cheer herself up. Typically discovering the guys playing music alone infuriated the girl but at the moment she just wanted to mourn the change of Christmas.
“Hey!” Reggie spoke with a bright grin at the moping teenager. At the lack of reaction, his grin faltered, “Julie?”
Luke’s guitar solo came to an abrupt halt seeing the forlorn girl slumping on the piano bench staring listlessly at the ivory keys. The melancholy aura gave the boys a sick feeling in their bellies, Luke wondered if her grades weren’t at Ray’s standard. Alex wondered if she had a fight with Flynn and Reggie just wanted to hug her.
Reggie did so. His arms wrapped around her shoulders in comfort, and he thanked whatever deity there was at finally being able to hug her. After Caleb and the weird situation, the OG Sunset Curve turned into glow sticks touch had become prevalent. Reggie had a secret handshake with Julie. When Alex got overwhelmed over his anxiety escalated, he would braid Julie’s hair and play with her fingers; when this happened, she never physically touched him unless he asked. Luke was a different story.
Luke’s love language is obviously physical affection, he would hug the living girl, gives high fives, grasp her hand to squeeze it. He’d also sit as close as possible for their legs to touch. It was a way for Luke to feel real.
“What’s wrong, Jay?” Alex asked, approaching the piano to heave himself on top of it. His concerned blue eyes on the teenager.
“This is the first Christmas without my Mom.” She revealed, the desolation drawing Luke to be closer to his friends.
If the boys’ had beating hearts, they would have stuttered and shattered, seeing the sorrow overflow in Julie’s eyes. In a short time, they had spent with her since the first night they had come to care about each other immensely.
 “I’m so sorry,” Alex spoke scootching closer to lay his hand on the limp hand resting on the piano top. The smile of thanks warming the drummer inside.
“Dad got this perfect job at a ski resort. It’s good money, and Carlos is excited. I don’t want to spend Christmas somewhere else. I want to be here; I want to go carolling with you guys. I want New Year’s Eve movie night with Flynn, I want to fight Carlos on who gets to put the star on the tree. I want to bake cookie.” Julie broke, “Sure a white Christmas would be cool, but this is home.”
 “It’s not about where you celebrate. It’s about who you celebrate with Jules.” Luke quietly spoke up physically with them but mentally elsewhere.
His mind returned to the night in December that irrevocably altered his relationship with his parents’. He had tainted Christmas for himself and his family when he stormed out never to return. He would give anything to spend a Christmas, a birthday, or even a Mother’s Day with his parents just one more time. A consolation to the guitarist was easing his parents’ pain with Unsaid Emily.
“You’ll get to build snowmen?” Reggie questioned pouting at his lifer friend who giggled at his look of betrayal, “I was going to spend Christmas at my uncle’s place in Washington before we died.”
Reggie’s words didn’t change the sombre atmosphere, but it did flip a switch in Julie’s mind. Julie could create new traditions with her new family as well.
“We’ll get to build snowmen.”
“How? We’ll be here. You’ll be wherever the resort it.” Reggie interjected with a twisted smile at Julie’s words. The young girl rolled her eyes at him, “We can’t crash your family vacation. It’s Christmas.”
“Reg, you wouldn’t be ‘crashing’ the family vacation. You three are part of my family.” Julie’s words had to be the most touching thing the boys had heard in years, both the twenty-five dead and from 1990-1995.
“I’m so excited!” Reggie beamed, “I have to go, thank Ray!”
With that, the ghostly teenager disappeared in a bright ball of light to the house where Ray was most likely accepting the job. While Luke and Reggie didn’t know boundaries, they sure could make things better for their friends.
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The giggle came from the girl bundled up in layers tossed a packed ball of snow at the enemy behind the other snow fort. The sharp laugh of her opponents warming you up more than hot cocoa, well the layers were unnecessary. But, what’s winter without the bundled up outer clothing.
“Surrender!” You called out throwing the new ball high with the hope it would land on the other person. It hit the top of the wall instead.
Lucy was just about to return fire with one of her pre-made snow weapons when the resort’s main building front door opened. Backlit by the lights giving a heavenly glow was a woman of average height. Greying hair scooped up in an elegant style, and thick clothing stood Lucy’s mom.
Your heart clenched at the visible sadness on the woman’s face as her eyes found the mountain in the distance. It had been a constant in the last seven years of the year-round residents and the plaque on the property. Lucy’s family had never properly healed from the tragic event, but they also could bear to leave the place either.
Fox & Hare Ski Resort had been in the ownership of the same family for over a hundred years, a place of happiness. A place where Lucy had loved as a massive fan of skiing and wintertime, Lucy was excited for this year the most. It was Lucy’s third year of lessons with a very well respected and highly sought out trainer.
“Bye!” Lucy spoke to the now standing young adult. Her little feet dashing to the main building for supper with her parents.
Your eyes found the parking lot as a car pulled up to one the spaces reserved for staff; his looks matched the temporary photographer. With him was a young boy and a teenage girl about your own age. All bundled up for the cold climate, but you were most surprised at the sudden appearance of three males.
They had to ghosts. If the teleporting wasn’t obvious enough, it was the lack of warm clothes. For God’s sake, one of them didn’t even have sleeves.
“Hm interesting.” You hummed scrutinizing the trio following the other three aimlessly to the building. You pegged them as about your age with a very vintage style in both fashion and hairstyles.
The luggage clicked on each transition to another board on the porch ramp for accessibility a welcome sound. Just another daily occurrence that brought peace to the individual. Unable to hold yourself back, you quickly scooped up three snowballs.
The first hit the taller boy in the back of the head. When his head swivelled, he couldn’t see the person that did it. Shaking it off, he turned back to view the mountain. Sprinting to the vast sea of trees you stopped halfway to chuck the second snowball. It hit the guy in the leather jacket.
You ducked behind the tree when he loudly protested the sudden attack. With a wicked grin, you went to send the third one before you yelped.
“Nu-uh.” The sudden voice spoke clicking his tongue. Slowly turning you saw the last boy staring you down, “You should have left Reggie for last. He’s very loud, he’s a personal alarm.”
Your mouth opened as the other two appeared, “I’ve never had a snowball fight before!”
You took a guess that was Reggie.
“I’m Y/N.” You spoke holding out for hand for the three to shake. They each introduced themselves; your first hit was Alex, the second was Reggie, and the failed hit was Luke.
“What brings you to Colorado?” You asked shoving your hands in your snow pants bouncing on the heels of your feet. The crunch of snow under them unfamiliar to the trio.
“Our band member is staying here for two weeks. Her dad got a photography gig.” Alex spoke, scanning the area, “So, are you a ghost?”
“I’m a tour guide and area expert.” You beamed revealing a big smile to the three guys standing in the powdered snow.
The cheery light in your eyes, easing the ghosts in the unfamiliar landscape, each a juxtaposition to the climate. Nodding towards the rental shop, you guided them into the average-sized building for the necessary winter wear. Seasoned with your background working in the shop, you quickly grabbed items that wouldn’t be noticed for them.
“We don’t nee-“
“Gotta live the experience. I used to work in here, so I’ve taken the liberty to group your gear. Alex, you have light blue and pink. Reggie red and black leaving the dark blue for Luke.”
You wore a seafoam green ski jacket and matching snow pants paired with the trusty black boots. While the boys dressed in the clothing you chose, you collected your things as well. As soon as they finished, they turned to see you had a snowboard lilac to the dark purple-black gradient. On the top of the board in the middle had a moon with the white foam of the ocean. On the lilac background, the deep purple cut the moon in half, the deep purple background had the lilac moon half. The black had a rough outline of a circle similar to the moon on the front with BURTON in the ring.
“I had a different board.” Your smile faltered, remembering the beautiful board your parents had gotten you for your birthday.
“What happened to it?” Luke questioned scanning the room for the board.
“It snapped in half.” You stated practically skipping out the door, “C’mon! I wanna teach you how to kill it on the mountain! Have you ever done this? Skiing or snowboarding?”
“Neither,” Alex spoke glancing around the area as you led them to the Gondola lifts that brought people to the top of the mountain. This one specifically for the beginner levels perfect for the three new friends, “We’re born and bred in California, never got the opportunity to travel outside the state.
“Well, I’ll try my very best to give you a good experience on the mountain..”
Once released from the Gondola, you jogged to the side giggling at the sight of them struggling to walk in the heavy boots. Near the Gondola, the area was the shift ski patrol building with the heated bathroom. The building along with the bench had been a new addition a few years ago. It never failed to halt you to stare at it for a handful of seconds.
“Okay, so we’ll start with the basics.” You announced clapping your hands together in the thick mittens.
Alex picked up the activity naturally with confidence and calmness he couldn’t even remember last feeling. He had to focus on his movements and directions, giving him a welcomed break from his overthinking. Luke had started his angry pout with his accurate portrayal of newborn Bambi.
“I’m just going to take a break,” Luke muttered wheezing from his sudden position staring at the sky. Taking pity on the Californian boy, you pressed the release function on his boots.
“I think Reggie’s at the ski patrol building.” You called to the boy with the fringe sulking in the direction of Reggie. It left you with Alex learning new hacks to the board.
“This is fun!” Alex shouted, raising his mouth to the sky, “Ooh Willie would love yelling up here.”
“Ghost?” You asked, receiving a nod in response, taking the time to sit down with your knees raised—the board on the edge still connected to your boots.
Alex flailed as he copied you taking in the sunset, backlight the buildings slowly turning their nights one at a time. The large main building would have a fire for everyone with supplied hot cocoa. Tomorrow the mountain would be less populated with the first of many Christmas parties. The crisp air welcomed high above the buildings you felt peace.
“Is it safe to get off the mountain at night?” Alex asked, hugging his knees to his chest, tilting his head to look at your profile.
The smile was small but warm on the girls face as Alex took in her features that had a particular contentness that is hard to attain. Alex could see in Luke when he finished a song he would deem his best work before the next song. Or Reggie at a beach bonfire with the ocean crashing faintly behind Luke’s acoustic guitar.
“Yeah.” You replied smoothly removing your board from your boots to carry it to where Luke and Reggie were. You backtracked to ensure Alex released his boots; his fast learning evident when he stood with a proud smile.
Alex and you both surveyed the area for any lost items or gear you may have forgotten about, coming up clear you continued walking. Reggie and Luke were laughing with their skiis neatly put aside. Hands locked in a fierce game of rock, paper, scissors they looked childlike and untouched by life’s hard teachings.
“I’ll put my board in the Gondola. Be right back!” You called over your shoulder. Alex looked over his shoulder to reply, but the space was empty.
“She moves fast,” Alex muttered shaking it off to jog closer to the boys. He was close to sitting down on the bench when it caught his attention.
“Whoa. That’s nasty.” Alex spoke, gaining his bandmates attention to the bench they had overlooked.
The bench was made out of two snowboards in stone and wood combinations with a gorgeous design. Pieces of the snowboard made to look like a nearly finished puzzle—a plaque on a thick post behind it.
“For the girl who changed the sport for women. Fast like a fox, as graceful as a swan, may you guide lost souls to safety.” Reggie read off the plaque. Luke’s fingers went to brush the ice and snow clouding the picture above the words.
“You guys coming?” You yelled from a distance startling all three intrigued teenage ghosts. Their eyes glanced at the edge of the board in the picture that matched the bench.
“Thanks for that by the way,” Luke spoke gesturing to the area as the Gondola moved down the mountain. His eyes greener in the dimly lit enclosure that shadowed your flustered features at the sole attention.
“I’m on the mountain every day. It was fun talking with people my age.” You informed them pleased to sit in the silence. The three took in the sunset from the height with no buildings blocking the view, “If you can’t find me, I’ll be on the mountain.”
Once back on the bottom of the mountain, the four teenagers snuck the equipment in your personal shack to dry and keep hidden for future lessons. The three guys bid farewell to find Julie in the large cabin, each with beaming smiles and stories to tell the girl.
“Where’ve you guys been?” Julie asked the ghosts in the tucked-away corner near the massive fire ceasing her scribbling to look at them, “Usually I can’t shake you. I had to sit through a safety talk by the director for the mountain.”
“This wicked girl taught us how to snowboard! She’s so cool, Julie. There’s this passion in her when we got on the mountain. The passion that we all have for music!” Luke gushed, breaking his cool guy personality, “She’s so patient.”
“What’s her name?” Julie laughed, getting a first-hand look at Luke all crushed out on someone. His cheeks a rosy pink and soft eyes it amused Julie just imagining the number of love songs he would pen.
“Y/N.” Luke sighed slouching against the wall, “She’s so pretty.”
“-once more, I ask that you check every morning and afternoon for weather conditions, the local Avalanche Information Center website and be aware of our maps for potential avalanche areas. We have a live app that gives updates as well. Just a reminder that I’m Susan and you can also have the ski patrol contact me for further information. Enjoy your stay!” Susan called out gracefully cutting through the crowd to Lucy falling asleep in her chair.
”I heard some lady talking to her friends that the safety regulations and rules increased after an avalanche killed someone. I didn’t catch the name, but it took weeks before they found the bodies, they found the board in a few days.” Julie supplied with a half-smile at another reminder of death.
The three boys had a moment of clarity. They put the pieces together that the bench made of the boards was in memory of the person who died. It was a bitter moment of potentially standing where a person tragically killed with no warning.
“Anyway, I have to meet Dad and Carlos in the room. Have to video call Tía as her stressed wishes for not being home.” Julie sighed, pushing her feet into the slippers, she left the dino ones at home, she had grabbed from the room.
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A few days into the Molina’s white Christmas it had been a charming morning thus far. The guys had done a songwriting session for most of the morning. Luke’s eyes continued to scan the room for you as he had since the first day. He had yet to see you inside, if the ghostly trio wasn’t on the mountain with you, then you were playing with Lucy.
 Julie and the Phantoms had retreated to the suite the Molina’s had been assigned when the weather looked questionable. Most of the tourists had either stayed in their rooms, cabins or in the main building. It led to Julie taking the session to the privacy of the suite to avoid looking like a crazy person.
“I need to stretch. Walk?” Reggie asked, gaining different sounds of agreement from the band.
The four individuals walked to the main lounging area where a crowd formed around the makeshift stage. On it was Susan shaking in her husband’s arms.
“Please, has anyone seen Lucy?” Susan sobbed, “She’s ten years old. She’s got blue eyes, ginger hair and she’s small for her age.”
Julie joined her father near the crowd, where he swiftly brought his eldest child into his arms with Carlos. Ray’s heart clenched at the thought of his kids going missing like the owner of Fox & Hare owners.
“Dad’s what’s going on?” Julie questioned viewing the blownup picture of a little girl, the perfect split of her parents.
“Susan Fox’s daughter Lucy didn’t show up for breakfast. They thought she was playing just outside the building. No one has seen her. There have been warnings of avalanches, and the mountain was closed twenty minutes ago. ” Ray told his daughter squeezing her once more cementing his gaze on the couple, “It’s devastating to them.”
“Why?” Julie questioned for the concerned ghostly trio at her side.
“A few years ago, Susan and her husband closed the resort for a few months. They completely gutted their regulations and worked closely with avalanche experts. They upgraded the area for increased safety and reworked the rules and regulations.”
 “What does it have to do with Lucy?” The Puerto Rican girl questioned furrowing her brow in the same way her mother had. Julie had scrapped back her hair into a half-up ponytail this morning.
“They did all that because they lost their daughter in a slab avalanche when Lucy was three. Slab avalanches are the most dangerous type, they make up 90% of avalanche deaths.” Ray sighed, staring up at the snow-capped looming mountain, “It took weeks to recover her body, there’s a bench on the mountain where she loved to snowboard. She was training for the Olympics actually.”
Luke’s attention faded from the conversation recalling that you would be on the mountain at dawn to watch the sunrise. In the sudden motion, Luke stumbled over his own feet heading straight for the shack. His mind is numb as he applied the gear to his body, the movements keeping him from panicking. Luke sensed rather than saw Reggie and Alex behind him.
“What are we doing?” Alex questioned, getting dressed as well.
“Going to the mountain.” Luke was very determined. Catching Reggie’s confused gaze Luke roughly gestured to the far corner, “What’s missing?”
“Y/N’s gear.” Alex and Reggie breathed physically shaking at the desolate area where a gorgeous board usually was. That lit a fire under their asses for sure, grateful for poofing they appeared on the mountain.
Scouring the white background, Alex pinpointed a speck of seafoam green running for a speck of bring pink and yellow. In the fear they had taken to sprinting in the bulky boots as if they felt something about to happen.
Your attention solely on Lucy, “Lucy, we need to leave now.”
For Lucy, the mountain was her life, it had been one of the things that her older sister lived and breathed for. All Lucy wanted to do was to be like her big sister. Lucy had the potential, her moves and posture striking to the late sister.
“This is the best trail!” Lucy stomped her black boot in the snow while her other one secured in her snowboard.
“It’s also one marked off for an avalanche.” You hissed to the little girl staring up with tear-filled eyes, “Please, go back.”
The unmistakable ‘whoomph’ sound shattered the otherwise quiet area freezing Lucy in her steps. The once stubborn ten years old turned petrified at the sheet of snow coming straight for the two girls.
“Slab avalanche.” The words covered by the snapping of trees. Your arms yanked Lucy up as you raced perpendicular to the moving snow.
Your ears couldn’t distinguish between Lucy’s screams, your screams or even the loud sound of the destructive avalanche. The alarm and terror drowning your insides, leaving no room for thoughts, only actions. Lucy’s small stature and the years you had on the location helped to dive into a safe zone.
Even in the safe zone, you raced further to collapse with Lucy’s inconsolable body quaking in absolute distress. The tears of relief fell down your face as you leaned against the bench of the memorial. Your head thumped the bench causing a puff of snow to fall on your hat.
“Holy shit.” The sob of words from Luke came before his arms wrapped around you. With being able to touch Julie, the guys didn’t get alarmed at the sight.
“Oh my god, are you okay?” Alex frantically scanned the little girl before moving towards you in the same amount of fear. Reggie rendered speechless at the events.
“What the hell were you thinking!” Luke shouted, lunging away to stare you down. Tears streaking his own cheeks, “You’re also preaching the safety rules of the resort. You definitely read the reports and decided to come on the mountain?”
“Luke,” Reggie mumbled remaining the only one standing. His words went ignored, “Luke! LUKE!”
“What!?” Luke snapped resulting in the bassist flinching at the stark memory of his home life, “Sorry, Reggie. What’s wrong?”
“I don’t think Y/N was ever in danger,” Reggie stated, bringing both confused boys to where he stood.
There above the bench uncovered by the snow that melted on Y/N’s thick toque was a picture. Above the quote was a picture of a girl holding the snowboard the bench was made of. Wearing a unique matching snow set was the exact replica of the girl Luke had fallen for.
“Holy shit.” Luke and Alex murmured gaping at the picture and the name of the girl who had died.
Luke recalled things you said,
“I used to work in here.”
“It snapped in half.”
“It was fun talking with people my age.”
Luke’s mind went a step further recalling the first lesson you gave the guys where you went from the bench to the Gondola in a short time. How people didn’t react to you, the ski patrol that ignored you every time on the mountain with them.
“You’re the daughter that died in the avalanche.” Luke gasped, dropping his jaw nearly to the snow-packed ground.
“Exactly seven years ago today.” You replied, keeping your eyes glued to your little sister yearning to comfort here, “Reggie, can you go in the building and press the red button? It’s a signal sender for people sheltering from the conditions.”
Nothing could meet the feeling of your parents weeping along with Lucy after the medic deemed her okay. While you wish you could join the hug, you also knew that things happened for a reason. The feeling that same with kissing Luke could never meet the level of happiness at Lucy’s safety.
I came close to killing ten year old Lucy in this but decided not to be cruel.
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scullydubois · 9 months ago
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Only the Light Ch. 20
20/? | AU where Melissa moves in with Scully after Scully’s abduction | angst, msr slow-burn, occasional fluff | currently: mid-s3 (canon-divergent) | T | 4.7k | previous chapters | read on ao3 | tagging: @today-in-fic <3
I now present to you a chapter that is filled with more angst than Chris Carter could ever dream of, and for that, I am truly sorry. 
Scully and Mulder's foray into domesticity with Emily is interrupted by the past catching up to them. Faced with despair, they cling even tighter to each other.
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Scully is granted maternity leave, though it’s only for two weeks, which Missy let her know is “a piss-poor bargain.” And she knows this is true, but she also has more incentive to stay at her job than ever, so she’d like not to lose it. The fact that advocating for herself and her child would mean risking her job is a mess in itself, but one lone woman can’t be expected to take down the patriarchy, and besides, she’s already tried and failed. 
As for she and Mulder, they hide their flirtation in plain sight. Mulder’s perpetually present in body or spirit, but his behavior never reveals anything more than it did before. Every morning he swings by to say hi, brings Scully coffee and a bagel with full-fat cream cheese, and checks if Emily’s picked up any new words. Personally, he’s working on “alien” and if you ask him, she’ll get it soon. She knows that it refers to her UFO stuffie, so sounding out the letters can’t be far behind, much to her mother’s dismay.
On Wednesday of the first week, he shows up at 6pm with takeout carbonara from a local Italian joint. His presence makes every Scully girl happy, but it makes one in particular the happiest, and Melissa realizes that there are definitely things her sister has failed to mention. She doesn’t question it, but watches with glee as the situation unfolds. 
After that first night, Mulder keeps coming back with dinner and refuses to let either sister shoulder the cost. On Friday, he stays for a movie too and gets to participate in Emily’s nightly tucking-in ritual (a tickle on the left foot, a tickle on the right foot, and a big smooch on the forehead). 
Saturday afternoon, he joins them for a stroller push through the park, earning some serious side-eye from Scully when he suggests that they stop at the playground because, according to the mama bear, “Em can only take six steps at a time, Mulder.” So instead they buy hotdogs from a vendor and eat them on a bench, Emily sandwiched between her mother, her aunt, and her...Mulder. They couldn’t ask for more.
That night, Mulder hangs around after dinner because what else is he gonna do? Go home and watch old baseball games until he falls asleep? A new leaf has been offered to him, and he’s gotta turn it. 
He’s baffled when, upon announcing that it’s Emily’s bathtime, Scully goes to the kitchen and switches on the sink. 
Scully raises an eyebrow at him. “What, your mother never washed you in the sink when you were a baby?” 
“Not that I know of...I have a hard time envisioning myself ever fitting in a sink.”
Scully scoffs. “I forget. You were a Vineyard boy.” 
Before he can come up with a smart response to that (as if there actually is one), Missy pipes up. “Oh, I bet you were the kid that took baths with your mother,” she teases. “Care to confirm or deny?”
“If I did I blocked it out of memory, thank god,” he testifies. 
Having spread a towel on the counter, Scully strips Emily down and perches the girl on her hip. She sticks her hand under the faucet. 
“That’s not too hot, do you think?” she asks Missy, who tests it as well.
“That should be fine.”
Mulder joins in too, and immediately regrets it. He shrinks away from the water, shaking droplets all over the room. “Jesus, Scully! Are you trying to boil her?”
“Babies lose heat quickly because of their body surface to weight ratio,” she says matter-of-factly. “They’re more susceptible to the cold.”
“I think the cold will be the least of her worries,” Mulder quips.
“If you really think it’s too hot, I’ll turn it down…” There’s a concerned crease beneath her eyes, and it makes Mulder feel bad about his joking.
“No, no, you know what you’re doing,” he assures her. “You’re her mother.”
As she lowers Em into the sink, Scully’s heart twinges. Her. A mother. How many times will she have to hear this before it stops feeling like news to her? 
One week and bathtime has already become routine. Missy fills a plastic cup and pours it gently over her niece, the water cascading down Em like she is nature’s own. Scully soaps her palms, then glides over her daughter’s skin with such care that its memory may blight any future affection Em is graced with. And then another waterfall, and the gentle brush of a wash cloth against eyes and nose. 
Scully squeezes a penny’s worth of baby shampoo into her hand, looks to Mulder. “Come on, get in here. You’re not afraid to get your hands dirty, are you?” she says with a smirk.
He smirks back and shakes his head as she lifts his open palm and shrinks her accumulation to a dime. “Although, technically I am getting my hands cleaner…”
She boops him right on the nose with a shampooed finger. He laughs.
Missy smiles. Oh, to see destiny play out right in front of you. “Someone’s cracking dad jokes,” she points out, unable to resist. This observation is much too on-the-nose for the pair (quite literally for Mulder), who simultaneously blush but say nothing.
Mulder wipes the shampoo from his nose and plants it on Emily’s head, joining his partner in making soapy circles over the girl’s tuft of strawberry hair. Scully’s full attention is directed toward her daughter. As soon as the lather is sufficient, she dons the lifted lilt of motherhood. “Okay, time to rinse! Missy, will you do the honors?”
Missy turns the faucet, fills the cup, and lets it flow over Emily. Mulder and Scully wash their hands off in the stream. 
And as Scully leans for the towel, a splash of red dirties its fresh white surface. Mulder notices it first. He points at his partner’s porcelain face. “Scully, you’re bleeding.”
Her hand shoots to her nose. Sure enough, it stains her fingers. “Shit.” She turns away, goes for a tissue. “I haven’t had nosebleeds since I was fourteen,” she tells them, as if that invalidates this one. She wipes away a glob of blood, her stomach turning. “Missy--” her voice shakes involuntarily, “--will you dry Em off?”
“Uh-huh.” She nudges Mulder. “Will you grab a new towel from the linen closet?” she whispers, not wanting to further upset her sister.
Mulder goes off without a word, and Missy squeezes out Em’s hair as best she can. “What a pretty girl!” she gushes. “All clean!”
“Yee!” Emily throws her little fists in the air, injecting joy back into the room. 
“Time to put your PJs on, and get a tickle, tickle, smooch.”
Mulder scrambles back in with a new towel, skirting around Scully, who remains occupied with her own situation. He slides the soiled towel away and helps Missy swaddle Em. Mulder ruffles the little girl’s hair, and she laughs like a music box. 
“Mol-dy.” She spits it out in halves, as if she’s been rehearsing. 
Mulder’s eyes water with recognition. “Mulder? Mul-der? Is that what you’re trying to say?”
“Moldy,” the girl declares again, certain of herself.
Missy adjusts Em on her hip, smiles at Mulder. “Looks like you’re Moldy now.”
Mulder bites his lip to hide his overwhelming delight. “Yeah, I...I never thought I'd be so happy to be called moldy.”
Next thing he knows, Scully is at his shoulder with a tissue stuffed up her nostrils. “Wait, what’s going on?”
“Em called me Moldy,” he tells her, full of satisfaction.
“Oh.” It comes out relatively unimpressed, but really, she’s just distracted. “Missy, will you get a diaper on her before there’s an accident? I would but I’m still--” She gestures to her nose. 
“Yeah, yeah.” Missy smiles at the baby in her arms. “PJ time, Em!” They go off toward the bedroom, a happy pair.
As soon as Em is out of sight, Mulder spirals toward his partner, panic-stricken. The glee of moments ago has evaporated. 
“Are you okay?” He touches her hair, shoulders, and the familiar small of her back, unsure of where he should land. 
“I’m fine, it’s fine.” Her grip on his elbows--keeping his hands firmly placed on her waistline--suggests otherwise. 
“You’ve got to see a doctor,” he pleads. “This could be...”
“This could be what, Mulder?” The steel in her blue eyes is a death grip. She’s never liked being told the obvious. 
“Scully…” He sighs, rubs his neck, wills her to say what they both know. When she doesn’t, he takes his hands off her and wrings them together. “The Mufon women...they said it would happen to all of them eventually.” He’s careful not to lump Scully in with their group. 
“And what do they know?” she retorts. “One of them was sick. One.”
“Okay, well, don’t you think it’s better to be safe than sorry?” he reasons. “You have Emily to look out for now.”
Scully rolls her eyes. “Don’t guilt trip me. It’s a nosebleed. Those happen all the time for completely benign reasons.”
“Yeah, but they don’t happen to you. You just said--you haven’t had one since you were fourteen.”
She clenches her jaw. He’s right, and she’s playing the fool. His position is the one she would take if this were anyone other than herself. She’s gonna have to lose this fight with as much grace as possible.
“Fine. I’ll get it checked out, but they’re gonna think I’m insane for coming in because of one nosebleed.”
“That’s a nice change of pace--you being the insane one for once.”
“Well, you’re the one who wants me to go, so you’re not out of the woods.”
“Good, I’ve finally got some company!”
Scully smiles in spite of herself. “Yes, yes you do.”
--------------------------------------
It happens very quickly, as most calamities of life can be said to. This gives it the unreal quality of a nightmare that might soon be woken up from, if there is any justice in the world.
Scully snags a doctor’s appointment for three days after the initial nosebleed. By the time she walks into the waiting room, one nosebleed has quadrupled into four, and her minor concern has snowballed into abject terror. 
Margaret Scully drove into the city to watch Emily so Missy could join her sister. Scully insisted that she would go alone, but Missy wouldn’t accept this. She threatened to tell Mulder the details of the appointment if Dana didn’t let her go, and that was enough to earn her a spot in the passenger seat. Scully can’t take the thought of Mulder witnessing the worst--let alone her reaction to the worst. 
And so it goes something like this: they are taken to an exam room, at which point Scully explains her situation to a nurse, including that she has recently learned she is at high risk for cancer. The nurse assures her that such a diagnosis is highly unlikely, but makes a note for the doctor. The doctor comes in with knitted eyebrows and listens to Scully describe the aftermath of her abduction experience with a heavy emphasis on the convoluted but substantial claims of the Mufon women. She asks if Scully has had any other symptoms, to which Scully replies that it’s hard to tell because she has an infant in the house and thus, a marked lack of sleep. 
The doctor laughs, but it’s not a haha laugh, more of an I feel your pain. She agrees that the women’s claims are concerning, but tells her patient not to fret. They’ll take all the precautions, run any test that might assuage her worries. There’s a quip about how it’ll be on the government’s dime since it covers Scully’s insurance, and then the doctor leaves to order an MRI. 
A full body MRI, which Scully has never had, and which she hoped she would never require. There’s no deeper sickness than one that cannot be pinpointed, and no greater fear than of the unknown turning into the worst case scenario. 
The MRI is completed that same day. As she slides into the machine, Scully thinks of Betsy Hagopian and wonders how she’s doing. It has been many months since she stood outside an exam room and watched Betsy enter one of these. Has fate been kind to her?
For a few minutes, her world is limited to the mere inches between her face and this life-saving yet life-ruining contraption. It is noisy and sometimes bright and altogether disorientating. She is glad when it’s over. 
The images return almost immediately, and maybe it would all have been okay if Scully weren’t trained in radiology herself, if she wasn’t able to recognize the glaring speck of light in her nasal cavity for what it is. But that one glance is all she needs to know that waiting by the phone isn’t an option. 
“It’s a tumor, isn’t it?” she blurts as the radiologist tries to escort her and Melissa from the room. “In the nasal cavity. I have a M.D. I saw.”
“Your doctor will call with the results,” the radiologist insists, standing by the open doorway.
“No, no, you can’t do this to me,” Scully sputters. “I know what I saw, and I don’t have any time to waste.” Her eye twitches in a combination of stress and anger. “I have an infant daughter.”
The radiologist sighs, pity on top of pity. “Perhaps your doctor will talk it through with you now.”
“Yes. Please.”
And it is talked through, though there’s no need to make it complicated: nasopharyngeal carcinoma. Inoperable, and just barely in the realm of treatable. That’s the kicker, the coyote in the pasture, the cloud covering the sun. In the words of Scully’s doctor, it is auspiciously rare. And in Scully’s brain, it is the bottom she’s been expecting to drop out from under since she held her daughter in her arms.
Melissa drives home. The sisters cannot fathom how they will tell their mother. Cannot fathom ruining her blissful time with the granddaughter she’s just met. When they turn onto their street, Scully swallows hard and coughs on her own spit. “Will you do something for me?” 
Missy looks over, eager to do anything she can, yet terrified by the possibility of the request.
“Will you take me to Mulder’s?” Scully mumbles. “I would just take the car but...I can’t face mom right now. I don’t want to risk it.”
Missy bites her lip. “And what am I supposed to tell mom when she asks where you are?”
“The truth,” Scully says curtly. “She doesn’t need the backstory.”
Missy drives past their building, though she’s not completely sold on her sister’s reasoning. “Don’t you think she might wonder why you aren’t coming home to your daughter?”
“I know she’ll wonder, Melissa, I know all of this,” Scully snaps because she needs to. “I don’t care.”
“Okay.” Missy’s voice is barely perceptible. I don’t care; she knows how low her sister has to be to say those words. 
They complete the drive in silence, Scully biting her nails--a habit which she has never possessed, and perhaps just acquired. The car idles as Missy pulls up to the curb of Mulder’s building. 
“I can pick you up when you need it,” she tells her sister as she pulls herself out of the car. “I’ll bring Em.”
“I’ll figure it out,” Scully says, closing the passenger door and edging toward the building. Missy hears a thanks float toward the car, then her sister is gone like a teenage girl embarrassed by her mother.
-------------------------------------
They sit on Mulder’s couch, muted. Words cannot fathom the injustice of this situation, nor can they suffice as empathy. Their hands are clasped together, a throughline of strength between them. This is what they need now; the most primitive language of all.
Scully’s watery eyes brush Mulder’s face. His own eyes, more pained than usual, look into hers. Without a word, she drapes an arm around her partner’s shoulders and scoots into his lap. He is surprised but not distressed. What else is left for them, now?
She is tiny, so tiny. And she is his. 
Their eyes meet once again, speaking in tongues. Scully nods, and then Mulder does too. This is it. This is it.
Permission granted at last, Scully’s lips travel to her partner’s jawline. The first time her lips have touched his body, and this is where they go. She is a constant box of wonders, a fortune he can never predict. Her lips are much like he has fantasized they would be: wondrously soft and silky, stroking him like they have always meant to be there. Yet he couldn’t have imagined the urgency with which they burrow into his skin. As if she’s making a mental map of his bone structure. He never expected that she would want him this much. 
His hands find her hips and grip the cotton of her shirt between his fingers. It is enough to tear her away from his flesh. Mission accomplished. His breath travels past her ear, hitting her neck. It is shallow and warm as he breathes her name. Her real name, the one her family calls her. She breathes his own back to him, like a bird responding to a mating call.
She feels his lips on her neck, wet and aching. It feels like God. This is the most blasphemous thought she has ever had. She throws her head back, exposing the whole of her skin to him. What is holiness, if not this moment?
He showers her in tattoo kisses, and she lets him, she lets him, she lets him. This is not just what she wants, but what she needs. No one will save her now, she knows this. So she has decided not to be saved. 
Her shirt ripples as he clutches it. “May I?” He is breathy, awe-struck. 
“Only if I can do the same.” Always about equality, his Scully is. He lifts his arms, lets her strip him first. He is fraught with the temptation to feel insecure, inadequate, but this is not about him--this is all for her. There is no time to dwell on this anyway. Scully takes in the sight, then puts her own arms up with a hint of impatience. He pulls her shirt over her head, and goosebumps adorn her as the air hits her bare stomach. 
It is unimaginable, the significance of this moment. All Mulder can do is keep going, lest the emotion hit him and he find himself blubbering all over her. His hands travel her body...it is slender and white, but so solid, so strong. Cartilage forming ligaments forming joints connecting bones. And her skin, stretching over her hips and framing it all. The masterpiece that is Dana Katherine Scully. 
He fears for the day she will cave in on herself. Already, one of his hands covers her whole rib cage. Right now he can cradle her body comfortably against his own, but the day will come when a single cautious touch will crush her, and his heart along with it. He wants her as she is now forever.
Seeing that he wants to pamper her, Scully lets herself be pampered. He showers the taut length of her collar bone in kisses. The vibration resonates throughout her bone structure, and already she can feel him in places she’s only fantasized about having him. He is going to heal me, she thinks. If anyone could heal her in any way, it would be him doing this. 
She shows her gratitude by kneading circles into his soft tissues, so tense from all their days chasing ghosts. The sinew relaxes beneath the pads of her fingers, and she feels like she has solved the most important X-File of all. 
Mulder traces his way along her spine. He has never touched her here, nor ever even fantasized about it, and there is an erotic tension--like a needle about to drop on a record--that neither one of them could have seen coming. Inevitably, his hands converge at the hooks of her bra. She arches her back in approval. He slides the hooks away from each other, and both of them feel the release. She shimmies off the garment before he can pull it out of the way. No secrets, not anymore.
Mulder didn’t expect to cry and is aware that most women wouldn’t take that as a positive sign, but seeing her, like this, knowing what they both know, tears feel like the least he could offer up. She is...beautiful is too weak a word to describe it. He needs to invent a new word to capture the essence of his emotions, the reverence with which he views her. He is not a religious man, but he will worship her until the end of time. 
He has known this, intuitively, for a while, and now he’s putting it into practice. He wants to do everything he can for her, give her everything she wants. Yet he doesn’t know how to, and this scares him. She has always slipped through his fingers, always turned on a dime just when he thought he figured her out. Tonight is no exception. How was he to know that he’d be on his couch with a half-naked Scully in his lap?
He fears the tears will offend her, so he nuzzles into her heartspace, his nose pressed against the heart that is--by the grace of that God she worships--still beating. His lips meet the plush of her left breast. 
Where does he go from here? The dusty routine he’s used with other women--the few who have given themselves to him or let him hand himself over--is not worthy enough for Scully. He could never touch Scully in the ways he’s touched the women before because she is not like the women before. There is no mere giving or taking here, no detached exchange of commodities or pleasure for the sake of pleasure. This is survival. They are symbiotically keeping each other alive.
A drop of water hits Scully’s skin, slides down the curvature of her breast. She shudders. A tear. That’s what it is, she realizes. Mulder is crying. It’s a baptism of unfortunate proportions. 
She cups her hand against his chin, tilts it up so his bleary eyes meet hers. She rests her forehead against his. “Shh, shh, it’s okay.” She kisses each eye closed, his lids fluttering beneath her lips. “It’s okay.” 
His breathing steadies. He is quite certain that it is not okay, that it never will be, but he listens to her, lets himself pretend. 
Hands still on his chin, she careens their lips together. His mouth on hers; a godsend. They caress each other for a moment, then Scully opens wide, and Mulder does too. They are reflecting. 
If Scully could compress herself, pushing every particle of air out of her lungs and into his, she would. As a sort of thank you, for everything. For what he has done, what is doing, what he will do...She will never have to live without him. She knows this now, and it makes this easier. But he will have to live without her, and so she must make sure he gets the memories he needs to carry on. This is how grief works, she’s acquainted with it. These moments, these feelings, these bated breaths and tender touches, will be his survival mechanism for awhile. Until the day when he can throw them off and go on without her ghost. It will happen one day, and she will be glad that he made it. 
She feels him pressing against her stomach, which is certainly not where she wants him. “Fox…” Her hands hover above his belt. She unzips his fly first, her hand warm against him. He is dizzy with want as her fingers curl against his belt buckle, loosening it with confidence. In a sweeping gesture,  she pushes his jeans off his hips, exposing him. The thrill she feels, seeing him big and bare in front of her, is a new kind of livelihood. She’s overcome with the desire to take him in her mouth--and that has never, never been her first instinct. She ducks down, but he stops her.
“Dana, no. You.”
She doesn’t need to hear it twice. She sucks in a breath, arches her back, and slides onto him. Slowly, gasping as they go. 
“Am I hurting you?”
Scully shakes her head, lips parted. It has been nothing like this before...nothing so fulfilling. She crosses her ankles, binding them completely together at last. 
Unity triumphs against the self, their union abolishing the world’s insistence on the solitude of the individual. This is what it’s about, isn’t it? Being joined, not only in spirit, but in body? Knowing that whatever horrors are to come, he will feel them as she does. Her dwindling will be his too, her losses an equally empty space within him. 
She is teetering on the edge of something she can never come back from. She is not afraid. 
She careens her fingernails into his back as the pressure builds. If it doesn’t come to a head, she’ll die right here, she thinks. 
She barely registers the cathartic noises coming out of her, though they give Mulder great delight. He thought she would be quiet, and the fact that she’s not trying to hold anything in--after holding everything in for so goddamn long--is the most moving part of the experience. 
And they want this to go on forever, but they want the release. Mulder swivels his hips into her, bringing them both closer to climax. Scully curls against him. 
“I’m sorry,” she cries into his ear.
“What?” He nearly pulls out of her, fearing that she’s hurt. 
“No, no--” She scrambles to stay with him. “This--” she pants “--is so good.” She lowers her lips onto his as confirmation, then speaks into his open mouth. “I’m just sorry to be the one to go.”
He frames her ribcage, thumbs arching toward her belly button. “Fuck, honey...don’t say that, don’t even think that…”
They won’t linger on the choice of pet name, the tenderness with which it settles over her, nor the absolute devastation of her words. There is simply no time. 
Scully hides her face in his neck as the wave breaks over both of them. There is no world anymore, only the two of them on this couch. They have forsaken the physical realm, ascending to heaven in time with their heartbeats. 
Mulder understands then what his reciprocal means when she says she needs proof to believe. Now that he’s been there and felt it, he knows that heaven exists, and holy shit, what does that mean for the life he has lived and the time he has left? What did it mean for Samantha?...What will it mean for Scully?
They collapse into each other, a melted mass of skin and bone. Two becoming one, becoming two again. Mulder strokes the back of his partner’s head, presses his lips to her temple. Her chest rises against him in jagged breaths.
“You are the only proof I’ll ever need that this life is worth it,” he murmurs. “Just you.”
Scully looks up at him, tears running down her cheeks. He kisses them away and wraps his arms around her. “I don’t know if you got the memo, but I love you, Dana Scully.”
She rests her cheek against his. “I love you too, F--Mulder.”
Mulder chuckles, his amusement shaking both of them. Scully closes her eyes and snuggles into him. He puts his hand over her heart, feels it beating steadily into his palm, and longs for it to stay like that forever.
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steph-luvs-klaine · 3 months ago
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Music shuffle tag
Rules: Put your entire music library on shuffle and list the first 10 songs, then tag 10 people.
Thanks for the tag! @bowtiescarves 💜
1. More Than A Feeling - Glee Cast
2. Breath - Breaking Benjamin
3. How’s It Going To Be - Third Eye Blind
4. Here Is Gone - The Goo Goo Dolls
5. The Kids Aren’t Alright - Fall Out Boy
6. Counting Stars - OneRepublic
7. Lucky - Glee Cast
8. Endlessly - The Cab
9. Unsaid Emily - Julie and the Phantoms
10. Never Enough - The Greatest Showman
Tagging: @gorgxoxus @trashmartianx @byebyeblainey @spookyklaine @little-escapist and anyone else who’d like to 💜
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dongzhouculture · 5 months ago
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Music List
Tagged by @ganbarimaster
Rules: We’re snooping in your playlist! Put your entire music library on shuffle and list the first 10 songs and then choose 10 people.
1) Wanted You More- Lady A
2) Anthem (from Chess)- Julian Ovenden
3) Mr Brightside-The Killers
4) Call Me Maybe-Carly Rae Jepsen
5) Marvin Gaye-Charlie Puth and Meghan Trainor
6) Always Remember Us This Way (A Star is Born)-Lady Gaga
7) Edelweiss from the Man In High Castle theme
8) Be Prepared (Lion King)-Jeremy Irons
9) All I Ask Of You (Phantom of the Opera)-Emily Rossum and Patrick Wilson
10) Total Eclipse of the Heart (Glee)-Jonathan Groff
Less musicals then usually end up on these
Tagging @loverofmanyrandomthings @hahahakeemu @pentarothos @ourpurplecollectorcycle @nishixia @wanderersoftime and anyone else following my culture or 3k account
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fettuccinecaterpillar · 2 months ago
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🐞!!!
And also your tags on the glee blog awards post were VERY VERY sweet, thank you!!! Right back at you always!!! <3 xx
this is all over the place but it fits, I'm not elaborating.
send an emoji and I’ll make you a playlist <3
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moviefreakmind · a month ago
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favorite characters meme: list your favorite characters from 10 different fandoms.
noah puckerman - glee
lydia deetz - beetlejuice
eli “hawk” moskowitz - cobra kai
emily davis - until dawn
logan echolls - veronica mars
tree gelbman - happy death day
tommy oliver - power rangers
sidney prescott - scream
luke patterson - julie and the phantoms
steve harrington - stranger things
tagged by: stole from @notvictim !  tagging: do it, am curious
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alltoowellthemovie · 6 months ago
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Rules: you can usually tell a lot about a person by the music they listen to! put your music library on shuffle and list the first 10 songs, then tag 10 people. I was tagged by @guccifloralsuits 💓
Ground Control : ATL
Don't Stop Believing : Glee cast
Summer Love : 1D
DWOHT : Taylor Swift
Tolerate it : Taylor Swift
Freak : Lana Del Rey
Bad Friend : Rina Sawayama
Unsaid Emily : Jatp cast
Rent - Pet Shop Boys
Hard Feelings/Loveless : Lorde
In my defense this was my liked songs playlist so I'm not responsible for a lot of these
Tagging @imightbe-a-robot @mariesminds @blushmp3 @witchrry @watermelonrry @zaddyzayn @iconicrry @bored-libra @palliddark @intoxicatedfandom no pressure ofc
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hummels-turn · 7 months ago
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♫ emily’s glee tag - five days of mercedes [5/5] - one season
​​​ ⠀ ⤿​​​ ⠀ ❝ You might be a work in progress, but I think you're worth the wait ❞
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