#*incoming call from the teacher*

[watercolor-hearts]

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[batboyblog]

Things Biden and the Democrats did, this week #27

July 12-19 2024

President Biden announced the cancellation of $1.2 billion dollars worth of student loan debt. This will cancel the debt of 35,000 public service workers, such as teachers, nurses, and firefighters. This brings the total number of people who've had their student debt relived under the Biden Administration to 4.8 million or one out of every ten people with student loan debt, for a total of $168.5 billion in debt forgiven. This came after the Supreme Court threw out an earlier more wide ranging student debt relief plan forcing the administration to undertake a slower more piecemeal process for forgiving debt. President Biden announced a new plan in the spring that will hopefully be finalized by fall that will forgive an additional 30 million people's student loan debt.

President Biden announced actions to lower housing coasts, make more housing available and called on Congress to prevent rent hikes. President Biden's plan calls for landlords who raise the rent by more than 5% a year to face losing major important tax befits, the average rent has gone up by 21% since 2021. The President has also instructed the federal government, the largest land owner in the country, to examine how unused property can be used for housing. The Bureau of Land Management plans on building 15,000 affordable housing units on public land in southern Nevada, the USPS is examining 8,500 unused properties across America to be repurposed for housing, HHS is finalizing a new rule to make it easier to use federal property to house the homeless, and the Administration is calling on state, local, and tribal governments to use their own unused property for housing, which could create approximately 1.9 million units nationwide.

The Department of Transportation announced $5 billion to replace or restore major bridges across the country. The money will go to 13 significant bridges in 16 states. Some bridges are suffering from years of neglect others are nearly 100 years old and no longer fit for modern demands. Some of the projects include the I-5 bridge over the Columbia River which connects Portland Oregon to Vancouver Washington, replacing the Sagamore Bridge which connects Cape Cod to the mainland built in 1933, replacing the I- 83 South Bridge in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, and Cape Fear Memorial Bridge Replacement Project in Wilmington, North Carolina, among others.

President Biden signed an Executive Order aimed at boosting Latino college attendance. The order established the White House Initiative on Advancing Educational Equity, Excellence, and Economic Opportunity through Hispanic-Serving Institutions. Hispanic-Serving Institutions (HSIs) are defined as colleges with 25% or above Hispanic/Latino enrollment, currently 55% of Hispanic college students are enrolled in an HSI. The initiative seeks to stream line the relationship between the federal government and HSIs to allow them to more easily take advantage of federal programs and expand their reach to better serve students and boost Hispanic enrollment nationwide.

HUD announced $325 million in grants for housing and community development in 7 cities. the cities in Tennessee, Texas, Alabama, Florida, Nevada, New York and New Jersey, have collectively pledged to develop over 6,500 new mixed-income units, including the one-for-one replacement of 2,677 severely distressed public housing units. The 7 collectively will invest $2.65 billion in additional resources within the Choice Neighborhood area – so that every $1 in HUD funds will generate $8.65 in additional resources.

President Biden took extensive new actions on immigration. On June 18th The President announced a new policy that would allow the foreign born spouses and step children of American citizens who don't have legal status to apply for it without having to leave the country, this would effect about half a million spouses and 50,000 children. This week Biden announced that people can start applying on August 19, 2024. Also in June President Biden announced an easing of Visa rules that will allow Dreamers, Americans brought to the country as children without legal status, to finally get work visas to give them legal status and a path way to citizenship. This week the Biden Administration announced a new rule to expand the federal TRIO program to cover Dreamers. TRIO is a program that aims to support low income students and those who would be the first in their families to go to college transition from high school to college, the change would support 50,000 more students each year. The Administration also plans to double the number of free immigration lawyers available to those going through immigration court.

The EPA announced $160 million in grants to support Clean U.S. Manufacturing of Steel and Other Construction Materials. The EPA estimates that the manufacturing of construction materials, such as concrete, asphalt, steel, and glass, accounts for 15% of the  annual global greenhouse gas emissions. The EPA is supporting 38 projects aimed at measuring and combatting the environmental impact of construction materials.

The US announced $203 million in humanitarian assistance for the people of Sudan. Sudan's out of control civil war has caused the largest refugee crisis in the world with 11 million Sudanese having fled their homes in the face of violence. The war is also causing the gravest food crisis in the world, with a record setting 25 million people facing acute food insecurity, and fears that nearly a million will face famine in the next months. This aid brings the total aid the US has given Sudan since September 2023 to $1.6 billion, making America the single largest donor to Sudan.

The Consumer Financial Protection Bureau put forward a new rule that would better regulate popular paycheck advance products. 2/3rds of workers are payed every two weeks or once a month and since 2020 the number of short term loans that allow employees to receive their paycheck days before it’s scheduled to hit their account has grown by 90%. the CFPB says that many of these programs are decided with employers not employees and millions of Americans are paying fees they didn't know about before signing up. The new rule would require lenders to tell costumers up front about any and all fees and charges, as well as cracking down on deceptive "tipping" options.

[redgoldsparks]

A collection of endorsements for the 2024 California ballot. Text below the cut.

CALIFORNIA BALLOT MEASURE ENDORSEMENTS COMPILED BY MAIA KOBABE

PROP 2: Should the state authorize $10 billion in bonds to build new & renovate existing public school, charter school and community college facilities?

PROP 2- YES: CA Federation of Labor Unions, CA Teachers Association, League of Women Voters, CA Environmental Justice League, Equality CA

PROP 3: Should the California Constitution be amended to define marriage as a fundamental right for all regardless of sex or race (removing language that states that marriage is only between a man & a woman?)

PROP 3- YES: CA Nurses Association, CA Federation of Labor Unions, CA Teachers Association, League of Women Voters, CA Environmental Justice League, ACLU, Equality CA

PROP 4: Should the state sell $10 billion in bonds for various projects to reduce climate risks and impacts? Money will be used to protect state water supply, fire prevention, flood management, protect wildlife, lakes and streams, offshore wind, park maintenance, urban greening and increase sustainability of agricultural lands.

PROP 4- YES: CA Federation of Labor Unions, CA Teachers Association, League of Women Voters, CA Environmental Justice League, ACLU, Equality CA

PROP 5: Should local bond measures to fund housing bonds for low/middle-income Californians and public infrastructure projects be allowed to pass with 55% voter approval instead of the 66.7% approval currently required?

PROP 5- YES: CA Nurses Association, CA Federation of Labor Unions, CA Teachers Association, League of Women Voters, CA Environmental Justice League, ACLU, Equality CA

PROP 6: Should the California Constitution be amended to: (1) remove the provision that allows involuntary servitude to be used as punishment for a crime; (2) prohibit incarcerated people from being punished for refusing a work assignment; and (3) allow incarcerated people to voluntarily accept work assignments in exchange for credit to reduce their sentences?

PROP 6- YES: CA Nurses Association, CA Federation of Labor Unions, CA Teachers Association, League of Women Voters, CA Environmental Justice League, ACLU, Equality CA

PROP 32: Should California raise its statewide minimum wage to $18 an hour by January 1, 2026, and then each year after based on inflation?

PROP 32- YES: CA Nurses Association, CA Federation of Labor Unions, CA Teachers Association, League of Women Voters, CA Environmental Justice League, ACLU

PROP 33: Should the Costa-Hawkins Rental Housing Act of 1995 (a state law) be repealed so local governments can regulate rents? If repealed, cities and counties would be free to pass new rent control laws which are currently denied.

PROP 33- YES: CA Nurses Association, CA Environmental Justice League, ACLU. NEUTRAL: CA Teachers Association, League of Women Voters

PROP 34: Should certain healthcare providers be required to spend 98% of revenues from a federal discount prescription drug program on direct patient care and should the state be permanently authorized to negotiate Medi-Cal drug prices? MORE INFO: Opponents of Prop 34 say it’s an attempt by the California Apartment Association to harm one specific healthcare provider, the AIDS Healthcare Foundation, because it supports Prop 33 & rent control. The California Apartment Association is the main supporter of Prop 34; if passed, it would strip the AIDS Healthcare Foundation of its nonprofit status. Multiple news sources have called this prop “revenge.”

PROP 34- NO: CA Environmental Justice League. NEUTRAL: CA Teachers Association, League of Women Voters

PROP 35: Should California make permanent an existing tax on managed health care plans to provide ongoing funding for Medi-Cal and other health care services? Currently the tax is not permanent and needs to be approved every few years by the California Legislature and the federal government.

PROP 35- YES: Equality CA. NEUTRAL: CA Teachers Association, CA Environmental Justice League. NO: League of Women Voters

PROP 36: Should California allow people to be charged with felonies for possessing certain drugs and for thefts under $950, if the defendant has two prior drug or theft convictions?

PROP 36- NO: CA Nurses Association, CA Teachers Association, League of Women Voters, CA Environmental Justice League, ACLU, Equality CA

SOURCES:

CA Nurses Association, CA Federation of Labor Unions, CA Teachers Association, League of Women Voters, CA Environmental Justice League, NorCal ACLU, Equality CA, Cal Matters, KQED: Here Are the State Ballot Measures Californians Will Vote on in November, SF Chronicle: These are the 10 statewide measures that will appear on Californians’ November ballot

[muntitled]

𝙄𝙍𝙍𝙀𝙋𝙇𝘼𝘾𝙀𝘼𝘽𝙇𝙀

Toji Fushiguro x Fem!Reader

Summary: Toji is intent on ruining every other man for you

Warnings: Language, Toxic Relationship, fwb, Age Gap, Minor Gaslighting, Jealousy, Slight Angst, Coercion, Manipulation, Manhandling, Possessiveness, PDA, Threats, Smut (+18) Minors DNI, DUB/CON, Grinding, Forced Orgasm, Rough Sex, Toji Filming You, Video Sex?, Humiliation Kink, Exhibition Kink, Massive Degradation Kink, Neediness, Mutual Masturbation, Humping, Spitting, Breeding Kink, Daddy Kink, DDLG, Massive Praise Kink, Threats, Slight CNC, Extreme Humiliation, Forced Breeding

A/N: Please proceed with caution, I beg

Perhaps your first mistake is assuming you could open his message, glance over it with hooded, glossy eyes, and swipe out, with the blatant intention of ignoring him.

Toji is rarely someone who fancies wasting time. He types like the old man he is, with messages devoid of emoji's or textual abbreviations.

He had simply and succinctly written:

I miss your face.

His message is unambiguous with the expectation that you are now supposed to drop every commitment you might harbour on this thunderous Thursday night to accommodate him and his nighttime hard-on that probably hit him in a slump of boredom.

It irritated you to imagine how secondary you always seem to be in his mind's eye. It pissed you off to think that his words when he fucked you, his blatant degrdation, may hold a sliver of truth. Perhaps you really were just a sex toy he only makes use of when he wishes for a break from the rest of the world and its obligations. That piercing thought that he used you accommodate all his kinks, while he continuously failed to claim you amongst his associates... it broke you. It left you feeling cheap and ragged and worthless and-

another message peaks over your home screen:

I know you're seeing this. Tell him to fuck off.

"Everything okay?" Your head snaps up from your phone, immediately meeting the eyes of the man you had just kissed under the awning of your Townhouse patio. His warm eyes which had stayed warm throughout the duration of your date are now hooded in concern.

"Everything's perfectly fine," You attempt to reassure your coworker who had just taken you on a fantastic date. There is an inflection in your voice which you quickly attempt to clear, "Just a message from one of my students-"

You're interrupted by another incoming notification which you instinctively check.

I miss your cunt. Need to see you touch yourself.

Swiping out of that particular message had been significantly more difficult, and it took all your willpower to ignore the slew of notifications.

"My kids tend to send messages outside office hours too," your date soldiers on, bending his tall frame hoping to draw your attention once again. "It's like they don't understand the concept of school time and downtime. Teachers have lives too,"

Your eyes narrow infinitesimally at the strain in his voice when he says, "I like seeing you in academic work mode, though. It's hot." You immediately notice his words as a veneer to mask the irritation at having your date interrupted by your notifications. All that hangs between you two now is the rites of passage one is expected to complete at the end of every date.

'Ask me up' his eyes practically pleaded, as you noticed him send tiny glances at your front door, 'Ask me up and let's get this over with',

And perhaps, maybe you would have invited him up. Lord knows your own arousal had been building with the steady stream of Toji's messages, one more quick glance revealed the final message:

Do you honestly imagine yourself calling that puny little thing, Daddy?

A shuddering breath leaves your throat as a million questions bombard a million other statements racing through your mind. Questions of how the fuck Toji knew you were on a date were overshadowed by the realization that you are going to sleep with this stranger tonight. You are going to find a new anchor and a brand new distraction.

"Would you like to stay for a drink-" You asked, or would have asked, had it not been for the sheer shock at having your own door open behind you. You spin around, utterly speechless as you and your date both watch Toji answer your door.

"She doesn't drink," He says, leaning his bare, muscled shoulder against your doorframe, the rest of him is clad in his sweatpants, the drawstring left lazily to hang, "So finding any beverage alcoholic enough for her to negate the fact that you're not going to make her cum, will be quite the feat." Your coworker bristles at Toji's remark, but you're corralled into silence. It is as if your brain can not comprehend what your eyes are seeing in front of you. Your voice is dwindling as you attempt to ask,

"Where did you… How the hell did you get my keys?" But Toji disregards you as easily as he has been doing for the duration of your relationship. Arousal be damned, all you allow yourself to feel in this very moment is red, white, and hot, anger.

It is so easy for him to look past you, so easy for him to pretend you're not there when his cock isn't forcing you to take his cum. The anger pulsates through you, straining your tear ducts. If it weren't for his sudden, inexplicable movements you probably would have cursed him out with tears streaking your face.

With his eyes still on your date, Toji pulls your limp body against him. He dips his head to splay a calloused kiss at the side of your head before letting his hands drift over the curvy outlines of your body. He rubs you soothingly, in a way he knows would get you into a compliant, likely sated state as he pushes your head onto his bare chest.

"You're still standing here?" His head tilts as he stares down your date; a scarred lip curling at the end. "Would you like to watch?" By this point, you're so deep into detangling your own conflicting emotions that you're not even sure who Toji is speaking to. What you are aware of is his bulge rubbing against you from behind. His grip on your hips are concrete as he looks at the now utterly angered man, "I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to," Toji's lips graze your ear, "She does enjoy putting on a show,"

You're utterly horrified that his words and raucous display have your colleague lumbering away from your doorstep and racing to his car, never looking back.

"That is an utter shame. I think he would've liked to see how needy you get when you wanna cum-" But you've finally gained enough sensibility to push him away from you. Your heart is beating loud in your ear as you push past him and into your living room.

"Where is it,"

"My dick? It's in my pants and it wants your attention-"

"Your shirt!" Your voice thunders up into the rafters of your living room's ceiling, likely in vicious combat with the thunder groaning outside. "You're going to get your shirt and you're going to leave my house and you will then proceed to leave my fucking life!" You're pushing over cushions and decorative pillows as you search frantically for Toji's shirt, "Give me my fucking house keys and leave me the fuck alone, Toji, I'm serious!"

In the tempest of your movements, frizzy hair wild from your outburst and your manic movements, you are utterly seething to find him directly behind you. His head, dipping into the nape of your neck, deposits a row of kisses as he pushes himself up against you.

"I really need to fuck you." He says, completely reducing your earlier words into nothingness, "I need to hear you make those needy little whimpers of yours and I need you to call me Daddy, okay? I need you to tell Daddy you want him to make you a Mommy," He is utterly delirious as he fists your breasts over your buttoned shirt and thrust his hips into your backside. He is deluded by his own fantasies, guided by his own arousal with little to no thought for your own feelings. You hated that his desires flowed parallel to yours. You hated that you wanted exactly what he wanted. You hated that your panties were already steadily getting soaked at just the thought of him needing you so much he started humping lazily into your ass. "Daddy needs you to take care of him, hm? Can you do that, pretty girl?"

Your voice is barely above a whisper when you speak, afraid that it might bleed into a horrendous moan, "When have you ever taken care of me, Toji? You fucking humiliated me-" He spins you around until your chest is facing him. You fight to evade the sight of his cock straining against his grey sweatpants as you stare blankly up at him.

"You like it," Toji says, bringing a hand up to cup the side of your cheek, "And I like that you like it." And perhaps, maybe a sick, emotionally damaged part of you did enjoy it when he made you suffer a little. His words bring revelation, as you think back to seconds ago, how him touching you - disrespecting you in front of your coworker brought on a heightened state of arousal.

"Make yourself cum." He commands as he hurriedly undoes the buttons of your blouse. You quickly notice that his patience has finally cracked, and a vexed scowl now dances on Toji's face as he discards your blouse on the floor, "No more questions. Make yourself fucking cum-" He growls, as he forces you down onto your couch with a hand gripping your scalp and another, pulling a wayward pillow in front of you.

"Make yourself cum because when I touch you, your pleasure is going to be the least of my fucking concerns."

You eye the pillow with slight trepidation while Toji eyes you from above. His hand is still firmly placed on top of your head, lightly craning it backwards to see every emotion running through your face.

"Keep the skirt on," He orders, and watches with hungry eyes as you slowly take off your underwear and mount the cushion in front of you.

"Give me your phone," he is already grabbing at your device, fumbling for the camera.

"Toji, please-"

"It's Toji, now!?" He asks, laughing breathlessly as he presses record and pushes the camera into your face, "Who the fuck is Toji to you?"

Your eyes snap shut, hoping to get away from the invading insectile lense or fresh coat of arousal betweenyour thighs. Your mind is utterly fried by the stimulation you're getting from every output. Your hips have started languidly moving against the pillow, feeling pathetically satiated by the friction against your soaked little clit,

"Look at you- Fuck!" Toji removes his hand on your head to lightly paw at the bulge so deliriously close to your face, "Look at what a fucking slut you are! Do your little work friends know how stupid you get when you're on the verge of cumming-"

"Toji-"

"I said who the fuck is Toji to you!?" The sheer and utter cruelty in his tone has you humping the pillow faster, while you clumsily raise a hand to paw at your breasts. Unable to keep his composure any longer, Toji's hand descends into his sweatpants as he begins to stroke his aching dick in unison with your hips. You watch with hooded, fucked out eyes. Your pillowy lips pull in between your teeth as a pornographic moan bubbles from within your chest.

You decide to give in. "P-Please Daddy, Please fuck me- I fucking need you to cum inside me- p-please-" You're unable to stop, feeling your wetness spread along the pillow, as you watch him stroke intently, "Fuck me- I need you to fuck me, fuck me please, Daddy-" You're utterly breathless, repeating your words like a wanton, desperate whore, "Please… Daddy," you continue to whisper, "Daddy,"

"Fuck-you look so fucking sexy, baby," He doesn't know whether to look at the video of your hips moving greedily against the pillow, or to watch the real thing: your hips making a web of sticky trails of arousal on the couch.

"Apologise to Daddy, like a good girl," He really wants to fuck you but his own pride, the curse of his averous stands in his way, "Tell Daddy you're sorry for being a foolish little whore. Tell him you'll never ignore a message from him ever again-" your shoulders flinch at the sound of your phone being discarded on the floor but still, your hips are unrelenting as you say, "I'm sorry, Daddy, I'm so sorry." Drool drips from the side of your mouth, falling along your exposed breasts, which Toji squeezes recklessly. "Never! I'll never ignore another message from you ever, ever, ever," you're operating on autopilot, as you watch him release his cock from inside his sweatpants, his fingers prod and twist at your nipple.

"I miss your mouth," He utters drunkenly as he bends down, "Kiss me," And you obey as you rise to meet his lips. The soft roughness of Toji's lips only has your hips humping desperately against the pillow once more, his tongue forcing its way inside until you're both kissing with lewdity and ferocity. "Fucking slut-" he says, pulling back to push you backwards,

"My horny humping girl is so ready for Daddy to fuck her isn't she?" You're completely flooded with anticipation, it flows through your arteries, alerting every part of your brain. You feel as though you're about to taste euphoria as Toji roughly pulls your hips to the edge of the couch, lifting it to meet his cock which he hurriedly slams into you.

He fucks you, hard and rough and as needy as you feel- hovering above you so every stroke has his pelvis pushing against your clit as you fucks you into your own couch.

"You thought you could just fucking get away from me, hm?" There's a heavy condescending tone in his voice, one that has you arching your back with your lips pulled between your teeth. You're striving to get away from his harsh thrusts because the pleasure is way too much . It's all bubbling inside you, threatening to spill out everywhere and anywhere.

"I fucking told you, didn't I!?" Droplets of water fall from his hair as he watches you so intensely. You think you might cum on the spot, "Daddy fucking told you that you can't ever say no to him- you can't ever tell him to stop- Stop fucking moving!" But your movements have him more turned on than you'd initially thought, allowing him to use the advantage of his brawn, to lock you down with his iron grip at your hips. You're trapped on the couch underneath him, as he continues to fuck you like you don't exist,

"If you keep moving like that- fuck! If you keeping fucking trying to get away Daddy will have no choice but to cum inside you," Your legs tingle with the nearness of your euphoria, it only expands as he brings his lips directly onto of yours as he mutters, "Daddy's going to cum inside you, okay? Maybe that's what you need to realise you can't talk to other men? Maybe getting you fucking pregant will make sure you'll stop being a fucking slut-"

His cock is shallow and relentless inside your soaked, gummy walls, it pushes against everything it can find and is utterly relentless on that one sensitive bundle of nerves that only he seems to be able to find.

"Are you going to cum!?" He asks, "Because I'm so fucking close baby- I want you to cum with Daddy, okay? Be a good girl for once in your fucking life-"

"FUCK-" You're a screaming, wet mess as you cum so violently, it disrupts the flow of your entire body, "Thats it… Gonna get you pregnant- oh fuck-" he exclaims, his white hot seed exploding inside of you, prolonging the overwhelming sensation of your own orgasm. It completely takes over your mind - feeling so completely full of him. Toji's hips lightly shudder as he attempts to milk as much of himself up inside of you, before pulling away. He is utterly mesmerised by the sticky, white cum oozing out of your puffy vagina. He watches, transfixed, as he brings his fingers up to slide as much of his cum inside you but it all comes sliding back.

"What are you," You're barely able to find your voice, "What are you doi-"

But he already has you upside down. His muscles flex he holds you carefully by your hips, with your head grazing the carpet. You recognize the movement as a relic of the old wives' tale. The second his cum is swimming inside you, you need to lay upside down to help it along.

No scientific evidence that this guarantees any sort of pregnancy, of course, but Toji strikes you as the superstitious type.

"Making sure the job's done." He says, "You think I was kidding about getting you pregnant?"

I can explain...

[neesieiumz]

catharsis || ──────── s. aizawa

day five — SOMNOPHILIA / VOICE KINK / DADDY KINK

『 synopsis 』 after a long patrol, your husband comes with an ache only you can sate, only to find you deep in sleep

『 warnings 』 — 18+. sm*t. minors do not interact. husband!aizawa. pro-hero!reader. p*orn with very little plot. that's why it's shorter than my normal fics. established relationship. she is a natural disasters hero. and he has his normal job. somnophilia. voice kink. daddy kink. he is very much in love with you. like borderline obsessed with you. and vice-versa as well. female reader. black-coded reader but anyone can read. he calls you a slut but you enjoy it. sweet aftercare. was this self indulgent? i plead the fifth, how bout that?

『 writers notes 』 honestly feel like i overdid with the daddy kink but here we are! hope you enjoy it and you won't get a new ktober fic until next week tuesday! check the masterlist!

『 word count 』 3.0k

previous fic in ktober | masterlist | next fic in ktober

The night had fallen upon your home before you had known it, the twinkling stars gazing down at you, the full moon’s brightness fully mocking your somnolence. You could no longer stay up for him, no matter how much you tried. You had waited for long before sleep was beginning to overtake your body, and you knew this was another night you’d go without being able to see your husband. 

Your husband was Eraserhead to the world, but at home, he was Shouta to you. Your Shouta. The two of you were heroes, after all, that was how the two of you met. You knew the long nights that came with the job, especially with him being a teacher as well. 

Dressed in a thin two-piece set, in a pale baby blue, you lay on your bed, covered in your warm sheets, with nothing but the sounds of your automated fan blowing cool air into your room, combatting the heated summer night outside. With school out, and your husband only getting a reduced check from his main source of income, he had no choice but to join up in nightly patrols, his main specialty when it comes to hero work. 

The two of you found each other while working patrols late at night, you being a new transfer from a faraway city on the outskirts of Japan, where natural disasters were then likely to occur. 

“Eraserhead, what kind of name is that?” Your smile was wide, contagious even. 

The two of you stood in an alleyway, with him hanging upside down from it, his eyes obscured by the bulky yellow goggles he constantly wore.

“Trust me, I was definitely not the one to make it.” His voice was deep and grave, it slightly echoed through the alley. 

“That means whoever made the name must have been pretty special huh?”

It was silent for a moment, and for a moment, you thought you hit a nerve, anxiety rising within you. 

“Yeah, I guess you can say they were.”

You gleaned up at him, seeing some semblance of a smile on his face. This caused your own smile to widen slightly, standing up straight. 

Your marriage was a private one, one with family and friends only, a short, quiet, and intimate event. The two of you only had a week off for your honeymoon, during the time of which students were out for school to not mess with his schedule. The two of you are extremely busy, with his job as a hero course teacher and of course your own as a rescue and natural disasters hero. The two of you barely had time for each other, easily taking what you could with each other. You knew what came with dating and eventually marrying another hero, especially with someone like your Shouta. 

You lay across the bed, sighing as you relaxed into the comfort of the comforters, onto the softness of the mattress. Closing your eyes, hoping to bring a new day, hopefully with your husband’s arms comfortably snug around your waist. 

— — — —

You heard a squeak first. 

Your eyes barely cracked open, still heavy with sleep, as the squeaking sound got louder and longer for a moment and then stopped altogether. You didn’t move, your heart racing and beating drums within your chest as the sound of muffled footsteps got closer and closer to your bed. You could hear ruffling, like clothes were being moved before the familiar fresh scent of mahogany and lavender, your body relaxing as you did so. You opened your eyes a little bit further, being able to see the clock on your bedside table, seeing the number 2:34 glowing from the digital clock. This was a first, you never woke up when he came home from patrols, you always found yourself being wrapped up in his arms when you woke up in the morning. You tried to find the confines of sleep, hoping to easily slip into it, knowing you’ll wake up in your husband’s arms once more. 

Creaakkk…

His footsteps got closer and closer, his scent slowly gaining intensity as something within went off, like chilling tingles crawling up your spine. You could feel his eyes staring holes into you, possibly scanning your entire form wrapped up in your blankets. A familiar tingling sensation began to erupt and spread through you. It had been months since the last time he touched you, the two of you being completely swamped with work. Suddenly, the bedframe creaked, as you felt the mattress underneath you slightly dip. He was so close to you, his knee grazing up against your back, the blanket being the only thing that kept the two of you lightly touching. Droplets of water, possibly from his shower that he took when you were still deep in sleep, dripped down onto you, feeling the cool, wet spots from your blanket. You kept yourself as still as possible, sleep still dancing in your eyes. And then, all of a sudden, he crouched down, the bed creaking along as he did.

It took all your self-control not to gasp as you felt his erection pressing up against you. Even with the blanket, you could still feel it. You held back the slight gasp out a slight moan as he pushed his hip in between your bottom. He let out a hefty groan, his head falling right beside your own, his lips right next to your ear as he did. You could feel yourself clenching around nothing, feeling yourself beginning to drip down your thighs and stain your thin shorts. All of your self-control was slipping piece by piece, your body aching and wanting for him. Your breathing became shaky, you know he could hear it, and yet he continued his actions. You could feel his lips slowly press up kisses along your cheek and jawline. His nose nestled itself in between your ear and your hairline that peeked from the night-time scarf you wore, before taking a deep breath in, taking your freshly washed scent, your body wash, as well as your nighttime hair products. 

“You smell so good,” his voice wasn't strained, as if he was holding back as well.

“I missed you so much,” he spoke again, the bed creaking again as he moved, his hands beginning to move down, thumbing along the hemline of your shorts.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been here as much, snowflake,” he mumbled in your ear, his hand now officially slipping down into your shorts. 

His fingers slipped in between your legs, two of his fingers easily spreading your lips apart, cool air hitting your clit, causing your body to tremble ever so slightly. Your mouth is slightly agape, drool slowly dripping out of your mouth onto your pillow. His fingers easily spilled into the mess in between your legs, pressing up against your clit. Carefully, he massaged circles into you, every movement slow and deliberate, as if he didn’t want to wake you. He probably didn’t wake you up. You had just gotten home from aiding a beach town devastated by a hurricane, pulling people out from rubble, and creating emergency service tents. 

“I know you just got back, but I…” he trailed off on his words as his fingers slipped further down, sliding in between your labia. 

“I can’t hold myself back, fuck.”

Your husband sounded so pretty, his voice straining every syllable as his hips ground more and more into you. By now, your shorts were a mess, and your underwear soaked with your juices. No longer able to hold yourself back, you softly pushed your hips back against his fingers, and hard-on. He most definitely felt your movements, letting out a massive groan as his dick twitched underneath his boxers. 

“Naughty girl, such a slut even in your sleep…” his chuckle echoed against your bedroom walls, as his fingers dipped in even further, one of them pressing into your hole. 

“Everytime I have to stay away from you, whether it be my job, or your own job, I can feel myself descending into madness–” his words suddenly cut off with a guttural groan, his hips suddenly giving off a sharp thrust.

“I am obsessed with you, you know that right?”

Tears dripped down your eyes, staining your pillows as his words enchanted you, sending great shocks of ecstasy through you. You could feel yourself trembling, only aching for him more and more. His own boxers were sticky with pre-cum, you could feel it oozing onto your satin shorts, slowly mixing in with your own soaked juices. His hand slowly pulled themselves away from your cunt, the sudden loss of pleasure causing your emotions to deflate before feeling that very same hand pulling at the hem of your shorts. You kept as still as possible as his large hands pulled your shorts down around your ankles, revealing your wet pussy. 

“Agh, fuck,” is all he could say as he suddenly sat up for a moment. 

You could hear shuffling in the background, most likely him taking off his boxers, hearing some kind of fabric being thrown in the air and landing on the floor. You felt his hands back on you, before feeling the tip of cock press up against your cunt, slipping and sliding in between your lips, gathering some of your juices. With a final swipe, before you knew it, you felt him press the tip at your pussy, your body trembling as he began to push it. 

“Baby, baby fuck–”

He pushed himself deeper into you, your eyes squeezed shut, your cunt throbbing around him.

“Missed you, missed you so fucking much,”

You had never heard him ramble like that, his usually deep gravelly voice seeped in desperation. His hands gripped at the meat of your thigh, holding your place as he rutted his hips into you. Your lips parted, and the entire area underneath them was drenched with sweat. Your hands tightly squeeze the comforter. The heat was overtaking you, a violent intensity grappling at you. Your thoughts that once ran wild soon became filled with one thought, Shouta. Everything about him was different, the way his voice hit your ears, each syllable easily ripping a new reaction out of you. It was only a matter of time before you lost control before he knew you were awake, feeling everything he was doing to you. 

“My wife, my pretty wife,” he groaned, his hands moving up and about.

“How could I fucking stay away from you?”

With his strength, he moved you about with ease. You no longer lay at your side, but instead, your knees dug into the mattress, your stomach lying against the bed. He pressed his hand against your back, your back arching up against him. He never pulled his cock out of you, staying snug inside you as he positioned you to where he wanted you to be. 

As soon as you were in position, he held no mercy towards you. Pounding away at you, like a man with nothing else to live for at that moment but to ravage you. Tears welled in your eyes as absolute euphoric pleasure took over you, it came as quick as lighting. With the sudden overload on your senses, your control over your actions snapped.

A moan slipped out of your lips, the sound causing him to falter for just a moment. With the wet sound of skin against skin, he leaned down once more, moving his long hair out of his face, finally allowing him to see the tears streaming down your face, your eyes slightly opened, rolled to the back of your head, mouth agape with spit dripping down.

One of Shouta’s hands stayed at your hips while the other suddenly reached down, wrapping around underneath your chin, pulling your body upwards with ease. Your hands propped you up as he pulled your head back, your eyes locking. The position allowed you to see just how frenzied your husband looked. His thick fat cock plunging mg into you, each movement only escalating him more and more.

“How long have you been awake sweetheart? Huh, liked what I was doing to you? Hmm?”

You tried to speak, but the only thing that could slip out of your mouth was pleas if you could even call it that.

“Daddy, Daddy-fuck, it’s too–fuck!” You screeched, gripping at the pillow as your eyes squeezed shut, overcome by the sudden frenzied thrusts your husband was sending your way. 

“Dirty little slut, letting me think you were asleep ? How long were you awake for?”

For a moment, you couldn’t answer him, only focused on the effervescent volcano building up within you. All of a sudden, his thrusts slowed down, causing you to whine as you looked back at his teary eyes. 

“I asked you, how long have you been awake?”

“Since the moment—ahh– you walked in! Since the moment, you walked in, please don’t stop fucking me, Daddy!”

Shouta suddenly pulled all the way out, your cunt only squeezing around the tip of his fat cock, before slamming it back into you, almost hitting and bruising your cervix. Both you and his own moans and groans echoed into the air, mixing together in a beautiful melody. His hand left your chin, your body flopping forward for a couple seconds before suddenly feeling your arms being jerked back. Your moans became scream-like as he grabbed at both of your wrists, suddenly pulling your arms back. 

“Fuck,” he cursed, hissing as he pummeled into you, “so fucking tight–huh, you like the way I fuck you, huh?”

You could barely get any words out, shaking your head vigorously, clenching around him. Every plunge into your cunt devoured you, your husband’s moans and groans had your body trembling. His growls reverberated within your ears, only causing your body to curl in pleasure. 

“I said,” he suddenly cut into your thoughts, your body jerking up even further, “you like the way I fuck you, slut”

“Yes, daddy!”

Shouta’s chuckle was deep, and his thrusts only overwhelmed you even further. You relished in the way your skin took the pain, feeling the bloom and sting tingle all over you. If you could blush, you knew the bottom of your thighs would be blooming red. Your tongue lolled out of your mouth, your eyes rolling out the back of your head. All of a sudden, Shouta dropped your arms, your body flopping, back arching into the bed as his hands gripped at the flesh at your hips and butt. His thrusts became erratic in nature, his already broken-down composure crumbling even further. You could hear his breathy words, soaking in the neediness laced within them. 

“Missed you so fucking much, my wife– my fucking wife.”

“Look so fucking pretty, so fucking senstive f’ me.”

“Missed this pretty fucking pussy, hate how much I have to leave you–fuck!”

Shouta’s body lurched, towering over your own. You could feel his sweat dripping down from his body, falling like light rain into your almost bareback, your thin night-top crumpled up at your bosom. Your hands crumpled up the blankets and sheets underneath you, the feeling of your tongue slightly grazing against the fabric. Your words soon dulled out, the only thing on your tongue was your monas and coherent words putting together the title you called him in bed. You could feel your cunt tightening up around him, like a ticking time bomb going off within you. 

“Such a sweet fucking pussy– fuck–” his body suddenly lunched, the bruising grip he had on your hip tightening. 

Your body convulsed, shaking in his hold as your mind went blank white, tears streaking out of your eyes as your climax ripped out of you, your juices spilling and ripping all over him. 

“Daddy!—”  your final words cut, your voice echoing against the white walls of your room.

With a final grunt, you felt your husband slump over, feeling his dick twitching inside of you, painting your walls white. Soon, the only thing you could hear was the sounds of your heavy breathing, both your and Shouta’s as well. You let out a whimper as you felt him pull out his cock out of you, leaving you with withdrawal. Without him letting go of your hips, your legs fully slumped onto the wet bed. With hands still around you, shrieking as he swept you up from the bed. You held onto him as your husband slowly got off the bed, turning your head to see him slip into your bedroom’s bathroom, using one hand to turn the light on. He placed you on the toilet, before walking to your sink. You couldn't help the soft smile that slowly appeared on your face as you heard the faucet turn on. 

He walked back over with a rag, slowly opening up your legs as you both felt and saw your cum mixed with his, dripping down your inner thigh. He moved the warm rag against your skin, letting out a short gasp as he grazed the rag against your sensitive cunt, cleaning up the main source of the mess. You heard your husband let out a breath of a chuckle, seeing a ghost of a smirk etched on his face. Your soft smile turned abashed as your hand reached up, smacking him slightly on his shoulder. Your brick house of a husband didn’t even flinch from your smack, continuing to clean you up. Soon you could feel nothing but the touch of water on your legs. Once finished, your husband slowly pulled your soaked shorts down the rest of the way, before tossing them into your laundry hamper. With nothing else, he carried you back to the bed. 

The two of you slipped underneath the sheets, his arm easily wrapping your waist as he pulled you close. You had no use of the pillows, using your husband’s naked chest, humming at the warmth that radiated off of his body. Before you knew it, you had laid a soft kiss against the beefy shoulder of your husband, before snuggling back into him. You both heard and felt him move, smiling as you felt a soft pressure against the top of your head, feeling the sensation of lips. With that, you drifted off to sleep, slowly hearing your own husband’s snores echo into her. 

[jq37]

Your sister who you love so much (even though you’ve never shown it) asks you to be her sister again, her true sister, in deed not just in name. And yes, of course that’s what you want. That’s what you’ve always wanted and now that she’s shattered your defenses and destroyed the ones who would pit you against each other and died right before your eyes, how could you refuse? How could your answer be anything but yes?

So you go home with her, not the ruins of your perfectly posh prison, but a new home which provides love and care and bunk beds and it’s so so nice. Ridiculously nice. Sickeningly nice. And a small, sick part of you almost misses your old home (if you can even call it a home) because yes, it was cruel and awful and you hated every second of it but you knew where you fit. You knew what your role was. You don’t fit in here. Everyone accepts you because they’re all so nice, but they don’t know how to volley back your sharp words or find a hidden, “I love you” within an offhanded insult. 

And then your sister leaves to save the world again because that’s who she is. She’s the kind of person who goes out to save the world with her friends when she’s needed and you’re not. You’re not, not, not. Not on any count. You don’t save things, you destroy them. And friends? You have to allow yourself to be vulnerable for friends so of course that’s out. Your sister is 16 and she’s out saving the world for the third time and you, fully grown at 18, are a wanted criminal who hasn’t even properly graduated from high school. You can’t stop thinking about it and, without your sister and her friends occupying the house as a buffer, the ones who are left try to get you to talk about it so you make a rash decision, as you are wont to do. You leave, like a thief in the night. You can make your own way. You can. You’ll prove it.

You find a shitty apartment and pay for it with the ill-gotten spoils from one of your many exploits. You could probably pawn some treasure for more luxurious  accommodations–there is that chest of rubies just lying around–but you don’t. That’s not what you deserve. And what if your sister needs help later? You don’t have access to your parental funds anymore which means she doesn’t either. You know she won’t ask anyone for help–you wouldn’t. But someone has to look after her. You’re an abjuration wizard. You protect people. You protect her. No, that’s a lie. But you want to make it not a lie. You want to start now.

If you’re saving the rubies then you need a source of income. You narrow down your least villainous talents to try and find a suitable job and hit on teacher. You’re good at magic, right? So how hard can teaching it be? Hopefully not as hard as securing the job, which proves trickier than expected because, oh right, you’re a wanted criminal who hasn’t graduated high school. But you dip into your villainous talents once more and tell yourself it’s for a good cause. You secure the job. You’re doing it. You’re making your own way. 

You want to text your sister to see if she’s doing alright but you don’t want to intrude and you don’t want to answer any questions about what you’ve been doing because then either you’ll have to lie or explain that you’ve left again, right after you promised you’d be there. Both options make your heart ache, especially since it’s her birthday. So you wait until the house is empty (mostly empty–you’re never really alone in a haunted house) and enter the room you and your sister shared for too brief a time. You paint her walls with carefully rendered runes, filled with all your abjuration magic and stamped with your arcane mark. It’s a possessive bit of spellcraft. A selfish claiming of a climactic kill. You mean to make a different kind of claim. You are claiming your sister, as she asked you to months ago. You are telling the world that she will not be fucked with while you live. Your rooms were so close before. You could hear her. You knew every night she went to bed in the grips of a panic attack with no one to console her. She won’t have to feel unsafe in her own room again. You can make sure of that at least. 

The sun rises one morning and you know that means your sister is alive and well and coming home. You teleport to Falinel to make sure she returns to her favorite dessert. It’s worth the spell slot and the chance of being recognized. The tower where they kept you is long destroyed and you know that this time, if you were ever captured or even killed, rescue wouldn’t be measured in a matter of months. It would be days. Hours even if your clever sister and her powerful divination magic put things together faster. The thought fills you with more emotion than you know what to do with. You leave a note. “I love you,” you think. “Enjoy the nemesis ward,” you write. 

Practicing magic, as it turns out, is a very different skill than teaching magic. The children are loud and obnoxious and you don’t quite realize that maybe your expectations are too high between the hothouse you grew up in and your sister being the world’s greatest diviner, fullstop. You know you can always go back to the manor, but that somehow makes it easier to stick it out. You’ve always been taught that pressure provides the best results but there’s something about the security of a safety net that makes everything a bit more bearable. And so what if you have to take a second job involving a light criminal element. You’re only smuggling–that’s barely even a real crime.

Your sister who has saved the world thrice now, texts you and she wants help. She is looking to you for help. And you do your best to oblige. You offer your knowledge, you offer your rubies, you invite her over again and again. She sends you a text and deletes it. You’re not the diviner in the family but you drain your spell slots scrying for information you already know. Information that you'll hear from her own lips in just a few hours. “I love you.”

She finally visits and you’re not unaware of the state of your apartment. You know you’ve been too exhausted for an Unseen Servant or even a round of Prestidigitations but you know that your sister has seen your mind and there’s nothing messier about you than that. She teases you and you tease her back. She’s the only one who understands how to deliver a complement with a backhand so you can receive it without your skin crawling. The only one who knows how much tartness you need with your sweetness. 

Later, she visits again. She sits in your filthy apartment and you watch trash TV and it’s the highlight of your week. Your month even. That should feel pathetic but, somehow it doesn’t. You want to tell her. She deserves to hear it from time to time without having to filter out the layers of prickliness that you add as second nature, a layer of armor as ever present as your abjurer’s ward. You may not be able to handle naked sentiment but she can. You’ve seen her with her friends. How affectionate they are. You’ve always been taught that loose lips sink ships but you have experience with ship sinking and this prospect fills you with much less dread. You tell her and it’s awkward and fumbling but you manage. Maybe loving people isn’t so different from loving cats.

You have a new job which is perfect because the school year is almost over and, blackmail or no, you aren’t sure how many times you’ll be able to get away with casting Sleep on your class to give yourself a break. Honestly, you should have applied for jobs in Leviathan from the start. Why would pirates care about your sketchy history and lack of credentials? You could teleport yourself to Leviathan every day but that would be a waste of a spell slot when the door to the Compass Points is right there in the manor (and if your sister happens to be there too then hey, happy coincidence). While you’re there, you might as well do your laundry. And stay for dinner from time to time. And spend time with your sister in your her room where your runes stand sentinel and your old bunk lays untouched. You don’t think you’re staring but later, as you go to grab a snack from the kitchen your sister throws you a casual, over the shoulder glance. 

“You can just move back in, if you want.”

And would it really be that easy? Just like that? After a year of trying to make a point or a plan or a better version of yourself or whatever? Just like that? 

You remember a year ago. You and your sister and words that will be burned into your mind forever. 

“Despite the fact that you have not earned it, I do love you.”

Just like that. 

You say yes. You stay. 

[pucksandpower]

okay but all i can think of is grid kids: where y/n and sebastians’ daughter gets her period while being with the guys and they freak out while she is completely calm😭😭😭

Grid Kids: It’s Just a Little Blood

Sebastian Vettel x wife!Reader x platonic!drivers

Summary: the grid kids have always been their little sister’s role models and teachers but it turns out that they have some things left to learn themselves

Series Masterlist

“She’s bleeding out!”

Lando��s panicked face fills your screen as the FaceTime call connects.

You immediately sit upright, heart racing. “What? Where? What happened?”

“We found her in the bathroom,” Charles adds, holding up a suspicious-looking red spot on the bathroom rug.

George, on the brink of hyperventilation, rushes in, “We need to call an ambulance! It’s a lot of blood. So much blood.”

Max is basically begging, “Just tell us what to do.”

From the background, you hear your daughter’s exasperated voice, “Guys! It’s just my period! Calm down!”

There’s a collective pause. Mick, with wide eyes, slowly asks, “Period? As in ... the monthly thing?”

Your daughter rolls her eyes but is clearly amused, “Yes. Welcome to female biology.”

You laugh, trying to calm the situation. “Okay, first of all, she’s not bleeding out. It’s totally natural. Didn’t any of you take a basic health class?”

Lance raises an awkward hand, “I might’ve skipped that day ... or week.”

Sebastian is trying not to laugh next to you, “Did any of you ever have a girlfriend? Or a sister?”

Lando sheepishly responds, “It just ... never came up in conversation, I guess?”

Your daughter holds a pad up like it’s a game show prize, “Alright, class is in session. First lesson: how to attach this to underwear.“

The line goes silent for a second before George finally speaks up, “You know, I have a newfound appreciation for what women go through.”

You giggle, “As you should. Time for lesson one of many. Pay attention, boys.”

***

The phone buzzes with an incoming call, Lando picking it up instantly. “Hey, kiddo! What’s up?”

“Can you come pick me up?” Her voice, cracking with frustration as she tries to keep her tears at bay, comes through the phone. “I’m in a lot of pain but the physical education teacher won’t let me sit out despite my cramps being really bad.”

George, overhearing the conversation, frowns. “Seriously? She can’t be that heartless.”

Max grabs the phone, his protective instincts kicking in. “We’re on our way. Just hang tight.”

Within minutes, the grid kids arrive at the school, walking determinedly towards the gym. As they enter, they spot the physical education teacher, a stern woman with a whistle around her neck.

“Can we help you?” She asks, eyeing them suspiciously.

“We’re here to pick up our sister,” Charles says, stepping forward. “We heard she’s not feeling well.”

The teacher scoffs. “She’s been trying to get out of class because of some little cramps. It’s just an excuse for her to be lazy.”

Mick tries to keep his cool, “Cramps can be debilitating. It’s not just an excuse like you claim. It’s a real physical pain.”

Lance jumps in, “You wouldn’t make someone with a sprained ankle run, would you? It’s the same thing. Why make her suffer?”

The teacher is about to argue but Lando interjects before she has a chance, “Look, we get that you have a job to do but she’s genuinely in pain. All we ask is for a little compassion and understanding.”

“And maybe,” George adds, “in the future, a crash course on menstrual health and how not everyone has the same experience might be beneficial.”

The teacher nods, sufficiently cowed. “I’ll take it into consideration.”

“Thank you,” Max says and the group makes their way to where their sister is curled up in a corner. As she stands up, looking a little pale but relieved to see them, they envelop her in a group hug.

“Feeling okay, kiddo?” George asks with concern, carefully brushing a stray hair from her face.

She offers a weak smile, “Better now that you guys are here.”

Lance winks, “How about we go get some milkshakes? Ice cream cures everything.”

She chuckles, “I could go for that.”

***

The media room is buzzing, cameras being set up and reporters getting ready to fire questions. The grid kids are seated next to each other, patiently listening to their weekly dose of Maxplaining while waiting for the interview to start.

A reporter from a tabloid magazine, aiming for a provocative soundbite, smirks and directs a question at Charles, “Rough race today? Are you on your time of the month or something?”

The room goes silent for a moment, a few gasps and whispers are heard. Charles looks taken aback, his cheeks reddening slightly, but before he can answer, Max steps in, voice firm.

“That’s really inappropriate. Jokes like that are not only disrespectful to the drivers sitting up here but also to female racers and women in general.”

Lando nods, “Our little sister wants to be in Formula 1 one day and she should never have to face comments from people who think that they can demean her because of her gender.”

George throws his hands up, “Come on, it’s 2034 for crying out loud! You should know better than this. We should all do better than this. ”

The reporter attempts to defend his statement, “It was just a joke. No need to get so sensitive.”

Lance counters, “We’re not being sensitive. We just want you to show some basic respect. A natural process shouldn’t be turned into a sexist joke because you have nothing of substance to ask. Women deserve to be treated with dignity.”

The reporter mumbles an apology, clearly caught off guard by the unified response.

Charles finds his voice and glares at the reporter, “Let’s keep the questions related to racing.”

“And,” Mick looks towards a group of FIA officials sitting off to the side, “Someone better make sure to take away his media pass.”

***

After the press conference, back in the drivers’ lounge, your daughter squeezes between the grid kids on the oversized couch and looks up at them with earnest eyes. “Thank you for standing up for girls like me today.”

Max ruffles her hair gently, “We’ve always got your back, kiddo.”

George nods, “We haven’t always been perfect but we’re trying to learn and grow.”

Lando adds, “And we hope, by the time you get here, motorsport will be a much better place for you and all other women aspiring to be drivers.”

Charles bends down to her level, “We want you to race in an environment where you’re only judged by your talent and not anything else.”

“You’ve got the same passion and determination any of us ever had,” Mick chimes in. “Don’t let anyone ever dim that light.”

“We’ll be cheering the loudest when you make it to F1. No one should underestimate you,” Lance adds with a wink.

She beams, wrapping her arms around them in a tight group hug. “Thanks, brothers.”

[lupinsweater]

part one

Teacher!James Potter x Single Mom!Reader 💌 1.3k words

thank you to @moonpascal and @amiableness for beta reading for me!

♡ ~ ♡ ~ ♡ ~ ♡ ~ ♡

Things did not go the way you had imagined the next time you saw James.

You had already been running on empty for weeks before school started, but your newfound busier schedule added to your inability to sleep at night. Every morning, you woke up with a dull ache behind your eyes and a stuffy nose that usually cleared up by noon.

Between helping Charlie with his homework and trying to meet your deadlines at work, there was hardly any time to rest. You hoped that things would clear up on their own if you stayed hydrated, but you could only stave off your incoming illness for so long before you hit a breaking point.

The morning that you finally decided you were too sick to go into work came about a week after Charlie had started school.

You’d spent the last week thinking about your interaction at parent-teacher night. Every day, Charlie came home excitedly sharing stories from class, and it was clear he had a special fondness for James, which only made it more difficult for you to stop thinking about him. You had spent the previous night tossing and turning, unable to stop coughing for long enough to fall asleep. Eventually, you gave up on trying to get any sleep and turned on the television until the morning rolled around. When it came, you phoned your boss and called in sick, trying your best to sound professional despite the exhaustion in your voice. Just as you were finishing your call, Charlie wandered into your room, dressed for school and eating handfuls of cereal from the box.

“Yes, I think it’s just influenza,” you said, clearing your throat in an attempt to hold back a cough. “Okay, that sounds great. Thank you again. See you next week.” Relief washed over you when you hung up the phone, but it only lasted a moment.

“Mummy?” Charlie asked, brushing his hands off on his jeans and setting the box of cereal down on your bedroom floor, approaching your bed. “Mrs. Wood isn’t here yet. Am I going to be late for school?”

You blinked blearily at him before registering what he was saying, and you reached for your phone to check the time. When you turned your phone back on, a reminder popped up on the top of the screen - TAKE CHARLIE TO SCHOOL. Instantly, you were wide awake.

You had completely forgotten that your neighbor who usually took Charlie to school for you- a sweet older lady named Mrs. Wood- had an appointment with her doctor that morning. She had given you a heads up weeks ago. You scrambled out of bed, pulling on a pair of slippers and grabbing Charlie in your arms, hastily carrying him down the stairs and out the door.

You helped Charlie buckle his seatbelt and situate his booster seat before hurrying over to start the car. An old Britney Spears album played over the speakers, and you went to flip it off, but Charlie���s protests stopped you. Reluctantly, you left it on for the drive, lowering the volume only as you approached the drop-off spot.

As you approached the curb, you could see James standing outside, greeting the students and chatting with parents. You groaned, running a hand down your face with embarrassment. Charlie reached down and fumbled with his seatbelt before it unclasped, and he wrenched the car door open excitedly, his little fingers fumbling with his backpack as he rushed to put it on.

“Mr. James!” Charlie exclaimed, running over to him. James’ face lit up as he saw Charlie approaching, and he dropped to a squat so he was eye level with Charlie. He offered his fist out for a fist bump, and Charlie returned the gesture. James pretended to stumble backwards, his eyes wide. Charlie giggled as James made a show of pretending to rebalance himself.

“Careful there, buddy! You’re stronger than you think!” James exclaimed, ruffling Charlie’s hair with a smile as he stood up. Charlie beamed at him before saying excitedly, “Mr. James! Mummy brought me to school today because she’s sick, and Mrs. Wood had a doctor’s appointment.” James’ gaze snapped up towards your car, and you smiled sheepishly at him as he approached. Charlie followed a few steps behind, watching James curiously.

“Fancy seeing you here,” James said as you rolled down the window. He closed the door that Charlie left open casually, giving you that lopsided smile. You couldn’t tell if your face was flushed, or if it was just a fever. “A little bird tells me that you’re sick.”

“She has in-flu-en-za,” Charlie said carefully, pronouncing the word slowly. James looked down at Charlie, biting back a smile as he said, “Ah, I see. That’s a shame.” He caught your eye, and you fought to hide your own smile.

“It’s not too bad,” you said, grimacing slightly as you looked down at your worn Snoopy pajamas and raggedy slippers. “I’m planning on sleeping as much of it off as I can while Charlie’s at school, and then downing a few cups of coffee so I can make dinner.” James frowned slightly, but didn’t say anything. He studied you for a moment, his eyes trailing over you.

“You like Peanuts?” James said with a small smile. You stared at him blankly, your brain trying to process his question. His smile grew as he watched you struggle with the question. “You know, like Snoopy?” He tilted his head downwards, and you glanced down at your pajamas again. You were definitely blushing now.

“Oh! Yes. I love Peanuts,” you stuttered, trying your best to avoid James’ gaze, but getting more flustered as you noticed his patient, almost endeared smile. Charlie piped up again, “Mummy loves Snoopy! She has a Snoopy plushie she sleeps with every night.”

“Charlie!” You hissed, shooting him a warning look. James laughed, the sound warm and smooth, while Charlie just beamed at you, clearly pleased to have made James laugh.

“No, no, it’s okay,” James said with a chuckle. “I think it’s cute, actually.” He caught your eye again, and his smile softened. You swallowed nervously, which triggered a coughing fit. You doubled over, coughing into your elbow for a moment before straightening up, your eyes watering slightly. James looked at you sympathetically.

“Well, I won’t keep you,” James said when you finally stopped coughing. “You go get some rest. Charlie and I are going to have a great day of school, aren’t we?” James looked down at your son, and he nodded fervently in response.

“Yes! I want to go to class. I love you, Mummy!” Charlie said, placing a kiss on the palm of his hand and reaching his hand up to the window. You grabbed his hand with a smile, squeezing his small palm in yours.

“I love you too, Charlie. Be good today,” you replied. You snuck a glace up at James, who was watching the two of you with a soft, almost fond, smile. Charlie ran over to James again, and he guided him gently into the building, giving you a small wave as the two of them went inside.

That afternoon, Charlie came home with a small gift basket that contained a box of tea, a few cans of soup, and an envelope with your name scrawled across the front in slanted letters. There was a takeaway gift card stuffed at the front, and as you pulled it out you noticed the note behind it. It appeared to have been written on a small school notepad, and there were alphabet blocks that bordered the sheet of paper. On it, a few simple words were inscribed with the same handwriting.

“So you don’t have to cook tonight. -James.”

He had drawn a small cartoon of Snoopy next to his name.

[cleapallea]

master list + More

𐙚 𝗘𝗠𝗣𝗧𝗬 𝗣𝗟𝗔𝗡𝗘𝗧𝗦𐙚

& how you can make income! 🤑

Is empty house means empty wallet?

There are 12 sectors (zodiac sign + house) in astrology that reflect different aspects of your life. At this point, if you have planets in 12 houses, a planet being in that house as well as the rulers means you should have more focus in that area. For example, too many planets (2) in a tenth house with Venus aspects or rulers (Taurus and Libra) signifies that your career might be related to Venus qualities such as modeling, rebranding, or makeup (products, tutorials, etc.). Hence, I know some of you might ask: So what to do if none?

Empty Planet in 1st house

Aries: self image, rebranding and investing

Empty Planet in 2nd house

Taurus: depends on your own efforts. Kinda Similiar to 1st.

Empty Planet in 3rd House

Gemini: Person's activity, and investment (education, training and self development -professional)

Example: Graphic Designer, Artworks related, Freelance writer and etc

Empty Planet in 4th house

Cancer: Anything related to fostering homes, and building connections (social network)

Example: adopting a dog (female), and let them grow after that you can sell her puppies. Or you can build a pets/ poultry suppliers.

Empty Planet in 5th house

Leo: Anything related to pleasure, wholesome stuff, makes you happy and alive, self-expression, recreation, and innovation.

Example: Build a program (school, playground, or be a Yaya for a day) and alike

Empty Planet in 6th house

Virgo: anything related to health, wellness, and daily routines

Example: Be secretary, write a blog about health and wellness, Be a Yoga instructor, or Drugs Cashier in some malls, teacher and more.

Empty Planet in 7th house

Libra: anything related to partnership, business and interest in society as a whole.

Example: Be an event planner, teacher, or social media influencer starts to sell your self in social media.

Empty Planet in 8th house

Scorpio: money houses, long term success or growth career, real state investments and financial portfolios

Example: rentals of your personal collection like shoes, etc.

Empty Planet in 9th house

Sagittarius: Travel, higher learning, personal philosophy, exploration and intellect

Example: You may consider writing a story or list of quotes on a known website and look for a small publisher until you get recognized. You can also Teach foreign ppl in diff countries to use other languages.

Empty Planet in 10th house

Capricorn: public image, career aspiration and achievement, and more on ppl oriented.

Example: vlogger, streamer, content creator, YouTuber and alike

Empty Planet in 11th house

Aquarius: humanitarian and personal networks. Anything that may show your passion and interest in specific content.

Example: musician, or be friends with famous people (they can help you a lot), then let them see your talents. I've known a lot of Aquarius placements tend to be very talented. You just have to precise and be stick with good purpose cause double karma occurs if you're not.

Empty Planet in 12th house

Pisces: Mysterious side of humanity, mind, and life

Example: be a tarot reader, practice gambling, or any creative outlets.

✎ There are no such things as empty planets. The empty planets are ruled by the "lord" or "zodiac signs" inside them. Although I don't really believe it's not your main focus but more in IT'S YOUR HIDDEN GOAL AND SUCCESS, I've heard a lot of women who have their second house empty, but years later become rich due to partnerships, investments in education, and such. We have this called "transitting of each sign."

✎ take note that this is not a dynamic and astrology is about multifaceted interpretation. The question of where and what you can do to make money can vary depending on the whole system of your chart (aside from your energy). For me, I need to see the whole birth chart before I give the exact meaning of it. Every chart is different, so I can't provide full, detailed information about it.

✎You have to look for your MC (signs), Jupiter house +signs (power), Saturn (warnings/challenges occur) and Moon placed (for reminder why you started, why you need to work something like that) if you don't like your moon, then look for your south code. Or if you dont know how to start, look for the (Pluto). Find inspiration in everything :) God bless!

Plagiarism is A crime.

[heartkaji]

teenage dirtbag !

(n) — winbre boys as the dark side of teenhood

includes : hayato suo, mitsuki kiryu, ren kaji, haruka sakura, umemiya hajime & endo yamato

cw : drugs ! 16+ content

✶ drug dealer ! suo who smells like dope & kit kat & every drug under the sun. at school hayato is il ragazzo perfetto ; pretty & smart & a favorite of the teachers. but when your acid runs out or you’re in desperate need of molly, il ragazzo perfetto is the first one you call.

✶ stoner ! kiryu who is always high, a rare sight at school & often found at clubs smoking ganja or high off the powder. suo hayato is his best friend & partner in crime & you’ll never catch kiryu without at least two cherry flavored vapes in his bag.

✶ youth offender ! ren kaji, who is always in trouble with the law. new day brings new grounds for arrest & his probation officer is fucking sick of him. he’s on house arrest every other week & juvenile court is his second home. many of his crimes include ( but aren’t limited to ) : petty theft, armed battery, drug use & possession, and vandalism & graffiti.

✶ troubled kid ! sakura whose best friend is his skateboard & electric guitar. midnights are spent at the city park with juul in hand & worn out board in the other. in the rare moments haruka is home the police are too; the neighbors seem to hate the sound of megadeth & metallica from that guitar of his.

✶ gambler ! umemiya who’s the yumeko jabami of the blackjack world, except he fucking sucks. every night of the week he’s hitting you up to ask for new money with honeyed promises of pay back with interest. you’d be a fool to give him a dime though, seeing as he’s never won a game of poker in his life.

✶ party animal ! endo yamato who comes in at 8am smelling like sex & the city. every day starts at 2am for him & ends in another woman’s bed. he’s gotten at least two girls pregnant so far, but you’ve never seen the babies & you never will. beer pong is his bitch, & winning money from umemiya is his primary source of income.

© ─ heartkaji ; do not steal, edit, translate or reupload

[scoops-aboy86]

By The Heart (Secret Admirer pt 2)

Steddie Week 2024, July 2: Hands / touch starved / Invisible Touch by Genesis

wc: 2136 / rated: T / set between seasons 2 and 3 / also on ao3

After the world fell apart a second time in November of ‘84, Steve had finished out the rest of his senior year in a daze. Partly because Billy Hargrove had broken a fucking plate over his head, giving him a small scar by his hairline that the doctor said would fade and recurring headaches that the doctor said might stick around anywhere from a few months to forever. 

It’s been more than a few months and the headaches are only slightly less frequent and a tiny bit less severe. 

He graduated, barely. His dad keeps dropping pointed comments about how his parents let him stay in their house rent-free after high school, how he’d saved up while attending a nearby college by not having to worry about the cost of a dorm or basic meals, and that it is his gratitude towards them that has moved him to offer the same to Steve. Usually said comments come after Steve tries to sidestep some sort of menial task, and it always feels like a threat.Steve just grits his teeth and takes it—refills his dad’s drink when the bottle is already literally right by the man’s hand, washes the family car after dinner when both his parents know that Steve has a shift at Scoops first thing in the morning, whatever. He can’t afford to get kicked out right now. 

His job at Scoops Ahoy is shit, all bright fluorescent lights and kids screaming and everything getting sticky for a measly minimum wage, but that probably reflects the quality of the job application he’d submitted. 

He has no friends, no prospects, no one in his corner except a bunch of incoming freshmen and the only one who really seems to want him around is off at some sort of smart people camp that he’d never even heard of… Go figure. 

But he has Secret Admirer. 

Okay, what Steve has is a pen pal who has a PO box and prefers to remain anonymous, possibly because Steve is an embarrassing person to have a crush on these days. And it’s really stupid that he thinks of them as first name Secret, last name Admirer, but it’s not like he hasn’t tried to come up with better names! Unfortunately, there are so many things Secret Admirer has called him (sweetheart, darling, dearest, honey, baby) that he can’t really think of anything original with those constantly rotating in his head… He can’t use them, though. It’d be weird. 

The first letter had been shoved into his locker in the last few weeks of school, looking like someone either wrote it with their non-dominant hand or had also suffered a blow to the head recently, and he hadn’t known what to make of it at first. In fact, he’d considered the possibility that Tommy or Billy were playing some sort of prank on him… but he didn’t think either of them could write “To Steve, the heart of my heart” without bursting into homophobic flames, and if it was Carol she would’ve done her girliest handwriting with hearts dotting the eyes. And his Secret Admirer had mentioned things no one else in his life seemed to care about. 

Like, 

I hope you’re feeling better. Sometimes I notice you squinting or grimacing in the classes we have in common… Are you still getting headaches? Do you get enough rest? You probably already know this, but mental and physical rest are super important for getting your handsome self all recovered, big boy. 

And,

I had a concussion once, not a bad one but it really left an impression. Felt like I was trying to think through a head full of soup for weeks. It sucks that teachers didn’t seem to cut you much slack because, just saying, I noticed they used to do that a lot more when you were still on the basketball and swim teams. Jock privilege placed above consideration of an actual, serious injury? I’m sorry, but that’s the rankest compound of villainous smell that ever offended nostril, sweetheart, and you deserve better. 

So, yeah. Clearly his Secret Admirer is a nerd who doesn’t necessarily have the best opinion of jocks… but still took the time to notice all those things and write kindly about them. It felt nice, knowing that at least one person out there noticed, maybe even cared. 

And when that letter turned out not to be a one-off, a few more letters in his locker and then one in his mailbox, postmarked and everything, after graduation? Steve was hooked, enough to start writing self-consciously back. 

Which has brought him to the point of wanting so badly to meet this person that he’s stooped to begging, and it’s not even getting him anywhere. 

It’s occurred to him that it could be a guy, of course it has. Steve might not be the sharpest knife in the drawer, but he knows it happens. He’d had a friend in middle school, Todd Fischer, nice guy, totally normal kid—got caught kissing some boy in the next grade up behind the gym and turned out to be the worst sprinter of the two. The Fischers had moved out of Hawkins a few weeks later and Steve hadn’t heard anything from or about Todd since. They’d been halfway through reading Romeo & Juliet in English at the time, and Steve remembers thinking when they got to the end of the play that at least things hadn’t gone that badly for Todd and whoever the other kid was. He’s old enough now to know that it could have; between Todd being such a nice kid, Barb dying in his own backyard, and the threat of government agents coming out of the woodwork if he ever breathes a word about certain secrets, the thought leaves a bad taste in Steve’s mouth. 

Anyway, if it is a guy, that would explain why Secret Admirer keeps dancing around his pleas to meet. And the initially disguised handwriting—which had been dropped by the second mailed letter, along with a brief, sheepish apology. 

But it could also be a girl who’s really shy or something. Steve doesn’t want to assume and then look like a total idiot further down the road. Whoever it is, all Steve knows is that he doesn’t want to lose them. He has to play this smart, play it cool… because he knows himself, and already knows that they have him by the heart based on words alone. 

The latest letter is in his hands, crinkled a little at the edges, and Steve can’t help himself from rereading the fifth paragraph yet again. 

… those indecently tiny shorts. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought about running my fingers up the inside of those thighs. Or my mouth. Whichever you think you’d like best, baby, I’m not picky. And while I do like ice cream, particularly strawberry with rainbow sprinkles in a cone, I can think of something else I’d love to wrap my hand around and run my tongue over before any drips can escape. You just think about that, hmm? Maybe share some of those thoughts in your reply, if I haven’t scared you off…

He’s not scared off. Doesn’t need to know exactly who put pen to paper to imagine hands and lips running up his legs, either, an invisible touch that sends shivers along his spine. 

Okay, maybe it’s been a while. Between striking out from behind the Scoops counter and not really trying all that hard anyway, the only action Steve’s seen is from his own hand… and this letter. He has thoughts, alright, but has a much better idea of how to translate them into action than words. And this is his problem with the whole pen pal only thing, his natural charm (if he has any left) is absolutely useless in this medium. 

The other problem is that he really, really wants to jerk off about this, except he’s got almost no details to fuel the fantasy. He knows that Secret Admirer had a concussion once, but not what color or length or texture or style their hair is; knows they’re on the fringes of popularity and not really into sports, but nothing about their height or build or how they might move against him. Hell, he doesn’t even know if they’re a girl or a guy, isn’t sure if he should try to imagine boobies and painted nails or stubbled cheeks and big hands. 

Secret Admirer has mentioned being a smoker though, of both tobacco and grass, and Steve is not exactly proud of how strongly this makes him want a cigarette just because it’s all he has to go on. He has work in under an hour and Robin hates the smell of cigarettes, will be extra vicious for their entire shift if he comes in reeking of smoke. 

He’ll have to figure out something else…

Dear Secret Admirer, Thanks for writing again, I was really glad to get your letter. I don’t sleep with them under my pillow because sometimes my pillow ends up on the floor and I don’t want to drool all over them. I keep them in a box in the back of my closet, because sometimes my parents have the cleaning lady do my bedroom without telling me and I don’t want her going through my stuff or putting it in weird places that I can never find again.  Sorry for laughing at you You must not have seen me last week when I threw a banana peel at my coworker for It’s not being humble if I don’t deserve Yeah, fuck high school.  Sorry for not rewriting this, I’m running out of paper and my dad’ll kill me if I break into his office to get more I definitely thought about what you said in your last letter. I thought about it a lot. It’s hard to figure out how to explain what though, because I wanted to picture you like you were probably picturing me when you were writing it. You obviously know what I look like, but I don’t know who you are so I had to get creative. (Which isn’t my strong suit. So if this is stupid maybe we could just never mention it again?) Since I don’t know what you look like and it’d be weird to try and picture you anyway, and then what if I’m not even close and that makes it seem like I don’t like you for who you are? I’m not sure if that makes sense. But anyway, since I don’t know what you look like I pictured you dressed like a ninja.  Hear me out, okay? You’re such a mystery. Ninjas are mysterious, and dressed all black to blend in with the shadows. You can’t see their hair or face and they wear gloves because you can tell a lot about a person by their hands. I guess what I’m saying is I imagined you sneaking into my room at night when the lights are off. Totally silent but with this powerful presence, you know? I think if I were in the same room as you it’d feel like that moment right before the whistle goes off at a swim meet, because that’s just like, holy shit it’s about to happen and your muscles are all tense but ready but you’re waiting, coiled like a snake. So I’m coiled like a snake and you’re still a ninja and I’m not very good at this. I’ve done it over the phone a few times but that’s different. I don’t know where I’m going with this just sitting writing this alone in my room with Genesis playing in the background so I’m going to stop. Just trust me, it was hot. If you ever want to exchange numbers I’d be happy to tell you all about it sometime.  It feels weird to end like that, so I’ll also tell you that I tried reading that Hobbit book you suggested and you were right, it’s a lot easier than the Rings book that the kids I babysit tried to bully me into reading. Bibo is freaking out about all these dwarves in his house and I can relate, it sounds like when those kids all show up and try to rope me into driving them around town. At least they haven’t tried to make me steal anything or try to take on a damn dragon yet. Hopefully this book won’t give them any ideas.  — Steve PS If that was so dumb you changed your mind about still writing to me, please let me down easy. Seriously it would be no hard feelings. At least I still have a great ass and great hair, so I’ve got that going for me.

Tag list (open): @hotluncheddie @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax @tangerinesteve @steviewashere

@cryingglightningg @theresebelivett @sleepy-steve @rozzieroos @lunaraindrop

@just-my-latest-hyperfixation @wheneverfeasible @swimmingbirdrunningrock @yesdangerpls @matchingbatbites

@ihavekidneys @p0lybl4nkk @grtwdsmwhr @cheesedoctor @thetinymm

@practicallybegging @fuzzyduxk @greatwerewolfbeliever

[heavyhitterheaux]

Ghost Part 1

AN: everyone ignore the fact that it took me almost a year to finish this lol

Synopsis: You're an OnlyFans model that gets pregnant by none other than Jack Harlow, who runs at the first sign of taking responsibility for his actions. But soon enough, his responsibilities get to be too much for him to ignore

Pairing: Jack Harlow x Reader

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

'I'm a good girl'

At least that’s what you told yourself 

But good girls didn't go to school by day and were a cam girl at night.

However, you were 

It was only for a little while

Just until you finished school

You needed a way to pay for it somehow

Besides the money was good and it kept a roof over your head

You admit that this wasn't your first choice in a career path obviously, but you had to do what you had to do in order to survive.

You had been in foster care since you were 9 because your parents and brother passed away in a car accident while you were the lone survivor

Your grandparents were older and they couldn't take care of you so that's when you went into the system 

Your aunt which was your mother's sister and your mother didn't get along and she said that there was no way in hell that she would take you and that you were someone else’s problem

I mean she did have five kids of her own to take care of, but to be that cold hearted to a nine year old?

You admit that you had survivor's guilt and would do anything to have all three of them here with you. But you knew that they would have wanted for you to have the best life that you could possibly have and that you were going to make sure of it. 

But if they were here, then maybe just maybe, your current life would be different.

You had dreams of becoming a preschool teacher since you were diagnosed at 15 with PCOS and you were told that your chances of getting pregnant were slim to none. It definitely hurt because since you didn’t have any immediate family left, that you wanted to have as many as you could. 

But you figured if you couldn’t have any of your own that you would teach them instead. If you could plant little seeds into their minds that will be able to set them up for greatness then you were all for it. 

You put on your newest lingerie set that was gifted to you by one if not your favorite supporter you would say who went by the name Mr.Missionary and was setting up your camera in order to get the perfect view.

One thing about you is that you never showed your face

Only thing they could see was from the neck down

You did that on purpose because the last thing you wanted was for someone to know what you looked like.

It wasn't the fact that you were embarrassed of what you did, but you wanted to remain as anonymous as possible so for the future, your career wouldn't be impacted. You could only imagine what would happen if someone found out what you had done in college when you were teaching their small children. It probably wouldn’t be good and the next thing that would probably happen is you being out of a job. 

You saw time and time again that happening to different people and that's one thing you did not want to deal with.

But, back to Mr. Missionary

He was a sweet talker and knew exactly what to say.

It all started with a message from him asking you if you were comfortable showing your face to him.

Since he had been supportive of you since day one, you figured why not. But also told him not to share any of the photos that you sent him to anyone else. 

So your jaw definitely dropped when you answered the incoming facetime call and was staring back at no one other than Jack Harlow.

The two of you would talk every week and you mentioned one time how you had never been off the east coast before and would love to go. Only Fans did pay well now that you had a lot of subscribers, but it hadn’t always been that way. However, you really only used the money for school and to make sure that you had a place to live. 

The semester had just ended and you weren't taking any classes during the summer so Jack offered to fly you out to L.A. to spend a week with him while he was recording new songs and you quickly said yes. 

This would happen periodically, him flying you out to different cities to meet him all summer long and soon you found yourself getting ready for the new semester to start.

You had about another year to go at Howard University in D.C. until you graduated with your degree in early childhood education while your friend Nadia was majoring in business administration.

The two of you met your freshman year and had been close ever since when you had to take a few prerequisite classes together.

She was from Louisville and was a big fan of Jack, but you didn't bother telling her what had happened between the two of you.

You signed an NDA anyway.

And since she had gone home for the summer, she had no reason for the thought to even cross her mind. 

But when you just so happened to go to your OB/GYN appointment you had gotten a huge surprise.

You were pregnant and apparently had been for three months.

Your period was irregular and you would often go for months without getting one so you thought nothing of it.

The first thing you did when you got back to your apartment was call Nadia and couldn’t help but to blurt it out.

"I'M PREGNANT!"

"Well first of all hello to you too and WHAT?!”

"I can't get pregnant! At least that's what I was told. They told me that when I was fifteen!"

"Well apparently you can. How far along are you?"

"Three months apparently and I had absolutely no idea. I wasn’t craving anything, no morning sickness, no nothing. None of the usual symptoms."

"Oh so when the semester ended, those legs were open for business, huh?"

"NADIA! BE SERIOUS PLEASE." You said while pacing around your bedroom. 

"Well, who's the father? Did you tell him?"

"Sooo, this is probably going to sound really bad." You muttered while pouring yourself something to drink.

You couldn’t see Nadia’s face, but you could just imagine how it looked. 

"I mean, how bad? You're an adult who can do what you want."

"Ummm…. He’s one of my supporters for my cam show."

"Y/N!!!! IS THAT WHY YOU WERE FLYING EVERYWHERE THIS SUMMER!? YOU WENT TO SEE HIM DIDN’T YOU? DO YOU KNOW HOW DANGEROUS THAT COULD HAVE BEEN?"

"Um, maybe and well, I didn’t die."

"What do you mean maybe?! It's either yes or no! And you didn’t die, but now you came back pregnant!”

"Uh, then yes."

"You need to tell him NOW. It’s his responsibility as much as it is yours."

"I will and then I'll call you back." You said while sighing. 

You didn't have enough courage to call him, but you needed to. It was better to get it over with sooner rather than later. 

You knew he was busy and decided to text him first.

You- Hey, call me when you get a chance 

Jack- I will right before I go to sleep tonight. Hopefully I can get another private show 😉

You didn't even bother responding and just waited for your phone to ring while working on assignments you had to do for class instead. 

Another thing you had to worry about now was graduating on time since you were now pregnant and would be due at the start of the last semester before you graduated. 

It was around 11:52 pm when your phone finally rang indicating an incoming facetime call from Jack.

"Hey pretty girl. I'm sorry it took me so long to call you.”

"Hey. It's okay, I was just studying while I waited.”  You quietly said and Jack was immediately eyeing you knowing that something was wrong.

"You okay?" Jack curiously asked while looking at your solemn expression.

"No, not exactly." You quietly responded while starting to fidget as you closed your textbook that was in front of you.

It was now or never.

"What's going on?"

You took a deep sigh before the words left your mouth. Might as well get it over with.

"I'm pregnant." 

Jack immediately went quiet and pinched the bridge of his nose before he said anything.

"I thought you said that you couldn't get pregnant and I always wore protection every time just in case."

"I thought so too and obviously you didn't."

"How do you know it's mine?" You immediately rolled your eyes.

"Didn't I spend basically the entire summer with you?"

"Some of it, not all of it. I don't know what you were doing when you weren't with me." Your jaw had hit the floor. He had some nerve.

"Don't do that. Why would I lie?"

"I'm being honest. Don't get mad at me for telling the truth. And why would you lie? Because I’m a millionaire the last time I checked, that’s why. Sounds like you tried to trap me." 

"Look, I just want them taken care of. AND EXCUSE ME? TRAP YOU? ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS RIGHT NOW?"

"I still don't see what that has to do with me and yes trap me, you heard me the first time."

"Seriously? How could you even say that? I have given you no reason to think that about me."

“Well people can surprise you, everyday. Until I get a paternity test, I'm not believing anything."

That was about three years ago and nothing has changed since then.

You were basically a single mother and Jack popped in occasionally when he wanted to. 

Which wasn't often. 

You were struggling living on your own with no support system in D.C. and Nadia had convinced you to move to Kentucky to be near her so she could help out as much as she could. Her business was finally taking off and she told you that you could find a teaching job at one of the elementary schools since they were hiring for preschool teachers.

When Jack found out that you had moved to Louisville he was not only convinced that you trapped him, but now you were stalking him too.

He had no idea that you were in this by yourself, literally. No help from family or anything.

You could count on one hand how many times Jack had seen Ace since birth and you came to the conclusion that you were probably going to be a single mother and stopped asking him for anything. The last time that he had talked to you was almost two months ago. During that three minute conversation he didn’t even ask how his son was and he only lived less than fifteen minutes away from you.

After the paternity test was done and Jack was proven to be the father, he had accidentally left the paper out on the table and no one other than his younger brother Clay found it. He had questioned Jack about it and because Clay was holding the obvious proof in his hands there was no possible way for him to back out of it. Clay then took it upon himself to reach out to you because he wanted to meet Ace. He met him when he was a month old and at that time Jack had only been to see him once. Because of how he acted, you knew early on not to put his last name on Ace’s birth certificate.  

After moving to Louisville, you met two of Nadia’s close friends, Blaire and Liv. Blaire was a baker who had her own bakery and would have breakfast waiting for you every day for you and Ace before you dropped him off at daycare and went to the school to teach while Liv taught kindergarten at the same school where you were. All four of you had become extremely close, but none of them knew who Ace’s father was. 

Because you signed an NDA, all you ever told them was that he really wasn’t a part of his life and that you were doing this all on your own and they accepted that as an explanation, but it was only a matter of time before they found out the truth. You knew that they would all look at him differently because they were such big fans of him. Plenty of times they had asked you to go to his concerts with him, but you steadily declined, but they never questioned why. 

All Jack did was send money to help with daycare and that’s when he actually remembered to do it. You got a discount since it was actually in the same school as where you taught, but it was still expensive. Especially on the salary that you got.

It was currently almost four in the afternoon and Jack was supposed to pick Ace up to spend time with him and you were hoping that they would be able to spend more time together. You knew that his career was demanding and he was at the height of it, but you just wanted Ace to have a relationship with him. He told you that he would be coming around 2 and that he would take Ace to the Louisville basketball game later with the rest of PG and spend the weekend with him. 

From what you knew, Urban was the only one who knew about Ace and was guessing that this would be his opportunity to tell them. You sighed as you looked at your baby waiting at the door with his little backpack on wanting to see the moment his dad was going to come through the door. 

After a while, he just sat down and sighed which made your heart break.

“Mommy, daddy not coming is he?” He quietly asked you and all you did was sigh.

“We just have to wait and see, bub. Maybe daddy got busy and got caught up with doing something.” One thing that you were tired of doing was making excuses for Jack.

“Does daddy love me?” He looked up at you with tears in his eyes and you quickly sat down next to him and slid him into your lap.

It took everything in you not to cry right then and there, but immediately pulled out your phone to call him.

“Of course he does. Here, baby. Let’s call him to see where he is.”

You didn’t know if you were trying to convince Ace or convince yourself.

You put the phone to Ace’s ear and Jack actually picked up on the third ring which you were surprised by.

“Hello?”

“DADDY! Where you at? Still coming to get me?”

“Oh, hey little man. Um, something came up, but I promise to get you another day.”

“But you promised you were coming today. You said that last time.”

“I know, bubs but I’ve just been so busy.”

Not wanting for the conversation to go on any further, Ace handed the phone to you with tears in his eyes, threw off his backpack and ran down the hallway into his room.

“Ace!” You called after him, but he continued down the hallway. 

“Are you…..? Are you serious right now?! You made him cry because all you do is fucking lie to him and to me!” You took a deep breath before letting him have it. 

“Y/N, please don’t fucking start.” You heard him say before sighing and you could hear cheering going on in the background indicating that he was already at the game.

“Oh, I’m going to fucking start because he has been excited for this all week! Why would you bail on your son like that? You did the same shit last time. You begged me to come and see him and when I told you what time would work best, what did you do? Not even bother to show up. Either you want to be in his life or you don’t and you need to make a decision. Tired of my child constantly being disappointed in his father.”

“Look, I’ll talk to you later.” Jack said and then hung up without another word leaving you fuming from your conversation. 

You simply got up while grabbing Ace’s backpack and made your way to his room. Once you opened the door, you found him laying down with his head resting on his hands just staring off into space.

“Ace….”

“Mommy, can we just go to the park?” He asked not even mentioning what Jack had done.

“Sure, baby. Whatever you want. I also think that it’s a perfect day for ice cream. What do you say?”

At the mention of ice cream, Ace immediately perked up and eagerly nodded his head.

“Can I get chocolate chip cookie dough?”

“Whatever my Ace wants, he gets.”

Upon hearing this, he immediately smiled and you were happy that you could take his mind off of what his father had promised him, at least for a little while. 

Two weeks had passed and you were rushing to get both of you out of the door and to Blaire’s bakery for breakfast so that the two of you would at least have something on your stomach for the busy day ahead.

You had sent a text last night to Jack asking him to send you money for daycare for the month of October, but he never responded leaving you frustrated because you literally now only had 24 hours to come up with the money otherwise you weren’t quite sure what you were going to do.

Your Only Fans was still active, but that was a last resort.

While driving to the bakery, Ace fell asleep in the backseat when you decided to call him.

“Yes, Y/N? What now? I’m busy.”

“Good morning to you too. Did you get my text last night?” You asked after rolling your eyes at how he greeted you.

“Didn’t I just give you money for daycare? Why do you need more already?”

“You see, Jackman….”

“Don’t call me that.”

“That’s your name isn’t it? Given to you by your parents?”

“Look, what do you want? I’m in the studio.”

“No need to be rude. I need more money for daycare. I have to pay it every month.”

“Why the fuck is it so expensive? Got damn a round trip to L.A. is cheaper.”

“I don’t know, but I already get a discount and I have to pay it by tomorrow so can you just send it to me?”

“1600 dollars?!? That’s the discounted price? You have got to be fucking kidding me. They act like you have six fucking kids. He’s one person.”

“Just… can you do it or not? I wouldn't ask you unless I absolutely had to.” You asked, hating that you even had to do so.

“Yeah, I’ll send it and you better be using it for daycare and not something else. Because if I find out you did, you better not ask me for it again. Anything else you want to bother me about?”

“Ace is in the car. Do you want to say good morning to him?”

“Not really. I’ll call him later. Bye.”

“I-....”

Jack hung up without another word and all you did was shake your head at him and how your three year old is more well mannered than he is.

Once you pulled up to the bakery, Blaire met you outside on the curb and immediately ran to your window with a bag of food as well as two drinks. A hot chocolate for Ace and her specially made coffee for you. You swore that she put jet fuel in it and as many times as you asked her for the recipe, she never told you. 

It literally allowed for you to stay energized throughout the day and didn't even want to know how much caffeine was in it.

She handed you yours, while she opened Ace’s door and handed him his.

“Thank you, Auntie Blaire.” He quietly said before taking it and you looked back at him to see that he was pouting and Blaire immediately asked him what was wrong before you could.

“Daddy didn’t say good morning to me when he talked to mommy.”

Oh.

So he was awake.

“I’m just sure he was really busy. You can try calling him later once you get home, yeah?” She said to try and get a smile at him, but all he did was nod his head.

So much for getting a good start to the day.

Ace had been upset the entire time he was in daycare even when you went to go and check on him and brought a cookie as a peace offering which he wasn't excited by and thought that making his latest favorite dinner might take his mind off of it. 

You never in a million years thought that Ace would love to help you cook, but here you were. He told you that he wanted to be a chef when he grew up, so you obviously set him up with everything that he might need.

He told you on the way home that he wanted to make chicken parm with noodles so you stopped by the store to grab the ingredients.

Ace was wearing his apron that you had gotten him as a gift for his birthday which said Chef Ace on it and standing on his step stool to add salt to the boiling water for the noodles while you were finishing cutting up the chicken and about to start making the breading for it.

He didn't bring up for the rest of the day what had happened with Jack earlier, but you had a feeling that it was coming and more than likely it would be around bedtime. But for now, you were simply going to focus on spending time with your little one.

“Ace, do you want to grab the Italian seasoning for mommy to use?”

“Yes!”

He promptly moved his step stool to be in front of the spice cabinet and climbed up when there was a knock on the door.

Ace had handed it to you and stepped down before going to get a sip of juice out of his sippy cup.

“Be right back, bubs. Remember don't touch anything without mommy being in here with you. We don't need you getting hurt.”

“Okay, promise.” He quickly answered before taking another swig of his juice as you went to answer the door to come face to face with Nadia,  Blaire, and Liv.

“Heyyy. Blaire told us baby daddy troubles this morning sooooo…. We brought wine and lemon cake that Blaire made for Ace.” Nadia said as she held up the wine and Liv held up the cake and all three of them were smiling back at you.

“You guys didn't….”

“Shut up and let us in. Yes we did and what is our little chef making tonight?” Liv asked as you moved to the side and let them in while closing the door behind you.

“Chicken parm and salad and Blaire’s cake can be added to that now.”

“HI AUNTIES!” You heard Ace as he ran full speed towards the four of you.

“Auntie’s baby!” Nadia exclaimed as she opened her arms to engulf him into a hug.

“Food should be about done in another thirty minutes.”

“Well until then, we have the wine to keep us occupied.”

After gushing over how good the meal was along with Blaire’s lemon cake, Nadia pulled out her phone and shoved it towards you.

“What am I looking at?” You asked her as Ace had climbed into your lap.

“Jack Harlow and his No Place Like Home concert. I thought I would get tickets for all of us to go.”

Ace then peered at her phone and got a confused look on his face.

“Oh, that's daddy!”

Silence.

Looks of shock.

Looks of disbelief.

Nadia, Liv, and Blaire knew how intelligent Ace was so they didn't think that this would be something that he would lie about all while trying to wrap their heads around it.

When no one said anything, Ace turned to look at you.

“Are we going to call him before I go to sleep?”

“Um, sure bubs. We’ll call him. Do you want to go and pick out a book for us to read tonight before we do?”

He eagerly nodded before hopping down off your lap and heading to his bookshelf in his bedroom.

All you did was sigh and wait for the interrogation to begin.

Nadia was first.

“Y/N!!!!! I…. WHAT!?”

“Do not say anything because the last thing I need is him finding out that other people know.”

“He is a literal ASSHOLE to you and Ace. The mother of his son and his actual son. All the shit that you’ve told us he’s done!?! Or hasn't done for that matter.” Liv exclaimed as she poured herself another glass of wine.

“So that's who was flying you out that summer?”

You simply nodded.

“Y/N…..”

“Look, I don't need the looks of pity. I’m fine, my son is fine and that's all that matters. We’re going to be okay with or without him.”

Blaire who had been quiet the entire time simply shook her head.

“I can always call my brothers to jump him.”

“NO, BLAIRE!”

“The offer still stands. Just say the word.” She replied while shrugging.

“I know how you three love his music so get the tickets and have fun. Me and Ace will be okay.”

“No. One band, one sound bitch. If you have beef with Jack Harlow, so do we.” Nadia said while crossing her arms. 

“Come to think of it… Ace does look an awful lot like him.”

“All I can do every day when we go out is pray that no one notices. I have to protect him and it’s sad that I actually have to do it from his father.”

It was around 7 PM when you had finished giving Ace a bath and had finished reading the book that he picked out earlier to him when he asked to call Jack.

“Can we call daddy now?” He asked looking up at you hopeful and all you did was give him a small smile.

“Of course we can.”

You grabbed your phone and attempted to call Jack on facetime while handing it to Ace.

All it did was continuously ring and you saw the pout on Ace’s face become more pronounced.

“Maybe, he’s just busy, bubs.” You quietly said before you took your phone back and the look of disappointment across his face broke your heart.

“He’s always busy, mommy.”

“But, at least you get to spend the day with him tomorrow! That’s something to be excited about. Do you have any idea about what you want to do?”

Jack had begged you to come and get him tomorrow to make up for not taking him to the basketball game with him and as much as you felt that he was going to go back on his word, but you were willing to give him another chance. But the chances were slowly running out.

“No, I’m just sleepy.”

“Okay, let’s get tucked in so we can sleep.”

Once you had gotten Ace settled, you went into your room and logged onto your banking app to see that Jack in fact did send you the money to pay for daycare and you let out a sigh of relief that you didn’t realize that you had been holding. 

Ten minutes later, you got a text from him.

Jack- I’ll come and get him tomorrow. Be there around nine. 

Hopefully this was a way for him to redeem himself for not showing up the other day and prayed that he would follow through. 

You were tired of seeing your child disappointed. 

The next morning after getting Ace ready, Clay came to get him and you would say that you were surprised that it wasn’t Jack, but that would be a lie. Ace was still excited to see Clay, so the last thing you wanted to do was upset him. You got to have a full day to yourself which you hadn’t had in a while.

Your time was spent going to the mall, seeing a movie, and even going to your favorite restaurant by yourself.

You made sure to soak this all in because you didn’t know the next time that you would be able to get another opportunity to do this and spend your time and money on yourself.

It was around 5 PM when Clay dropped off Ace who you could tell was still on a sugar high since he was running around the apartment and not able to keep still for three minutes when you got on the topic of Clay’s brother since you knew that it was inevitable. 

"Clay, I have given him chance after chance to do right by him and he literally disappoints me and him every time." 

"I know and I'm…."

"No. Do not apologize for him. If he could have just seen his face when he promised to come and get him to go to the game with all of you and to have a cooking date and he didn't show. Like my baby was bawling with tears running down his face and asked me does daddy even love me? Clay my heart can't take too much more of this. This has been going on for way longer than it should have. My son is my entire world and he deserves a father in his life that wants to be consistent and be there for him. I don't think Jack will ever get there." 

"So I guess I shouldn't tell you that he still hasn't told our parents about you or Ace?" Clay asked while scratching the back of his neck.

You then looked at Clay in disbelief as Ace came up on your left side and lifted his hands up to indicate he wanted to be picked up by you or his uncle and Clay quickly did. 

"Your brother is just full of surprises isn't he? You're more of a father to him than he is."

"Reality hasn't hit him yet."

"It doesn't take three years. It's just crazy how you were the only one who welcomed him with open arms, but then again you had already saw the DNA results so you had no choice but to believe me. I guess Jack never thought in his wildest dreams he would sleep with a cam girl and end up with a kid."

Just then your phone went off indicating a text from the man of the hour.

Jack- Y/N, I know you're mad at me but I promise to get him next time.

You- Don't even worry about it. Once again your little brother is stepping up and doing what you should have done. So much that he actually called him dad the other day. Think about that.

You saw Jack would start texting and then stop indicating that he didn't have a good comeback for that one.

How could he?

It had been a quick slip up a few weeks ago by Ace, but Clay simply brushed it off and thought nothing of it. You remembered him saying to Ace, ‘Well we do look alike, don’t we?’ And he quickly agreed.

And just then your phone went off indicating Jack was calling you.

"What?" You asked as you rolled your eyes.

"I'll be outside in 20 minutes and I want to see my son."

Once you hung up, Clay turned to you and asked you what he said.

“He said that he wants to see him, but my thing is that if you really did want to see him then you would have gotten him earlier. The last thing he better do when he comes in here is make a scene.”

Twenty minutes didn’t even pass before you heard knocking on the front door and you immediately rolled your eyes before getting up to answer it.

Once you did, Jack was clearly annoyed and was looking right past you to see where Ace was.

“Where’s my son?”

“Oh, so now he’s your son? Are there certain days of the week that you claim him or?”

“Y/N, I’m not doing this with you right now, where is Ace?”

“He’s with your brother in the kitchen if you must know and you better not go in there and make him upset.”

“Now, why would I make him upset?”

“I don’t know, you tell me. Since all he knows you’re good for is disappointing him.”

Jack didn’t even bother to respond as he walked past you to come face to face with Clay playing with Ace.

Once Ace saw him, he quickly ran to hide behind Clay.

“Bubs, it’s me, daddy. No reason to be scared.”

All Ace did was peek out behind Clay’s leg who was trying to also tell him that it was okay.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t come and get you today, but I promise that I will next time.”

This led to Ace shaking his head no and holding onto Clay’s leg tighter.

“Ace, what’s the matter?” Jack asked seeing as Ace had never acted this way towards him before.

“Daddy, you forgot about me….. Again.”

“I… I didn’t forget. Daddy’s just been really busy, but I’m here now.”

“Maybe if you actually showed up when you were supposed to this wouldn’t be happening.” Clay snapped at Jack as Ace quickly ran to you and you picked him up as he hid in the crook of your neck.

“Clay, I already get it enough from Y/N, I don’t need to hear it from you too.”

“Well obviously you do, because hearing it from one person obviously isn’t enough! Now, why is your kid calling me daddy? Oh, right. Because his real dad actually ignores him.” Clay said while raising his voice at his older brother.

“I DON’T IGNORE MY SON!”

“WHEN IS THE LAST TIME YOU ACTUALLY SPENT TIME WITH HIM? I’VE SEEN HIM MORE TIMES SINCE HE’S BEEN ALIVE THAN YOU HAVE!”

At their heated exchange, Ace began to cry and you knew that you needed to put a stop to this immediately.

“Okay, you two, we’re done. Jack, get out.”

“If I leave, I’m taking Ace with me.”

“You are not taking MY son anywhere. Can’t you see how upset you made him? And I told you once you step foot in here not to upset him and you did the exact opposite. Just leave. You've done enough.”

Jack had let out a frustrated sigh as he was contemplating his next move. He stepped towards you, but was immediately blocked by Clay stepping in front of you.

“Just do what she asked you to do and leave.”

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[a-simple-gaywitch]

Heart Full of You

Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: When Spencer goes to pick Henry up from school for JJ, he doesn't expect to fall head-over-heels for his teacher

Warnings: Mentions of guns, I think that's it?

Word Count: 4541

Author's Note: I don't really like the ending I have here, but I'd LOVE to continue writing this universe, I have so many ideas!

“Fate shuffles the cards and we play.” ~Arthur Schopenhauer

~

Spencer walked through the doors of Henry and Jack’s school and headed toward the theater. JJ and Hotch had signed the boys up for the school district’s musical and had asked Spencer to pick them up. JJ and Will had their Thursday date night, and Hotch was stuck in the office. Spencer was more than happy to agree. He slipped into the auditorium and took a seat at the back, since he was still pretty early. 

He saw a younger woman, probably in her early 20s, at the front of the auditorium with a clipboard and tape measure. She was presumably taking the students’ measurements for costumes while the instructor up on the stage led the children through the dance steps. The man he knew to be one of the high school teachers sat in the middle of the front row, making notes in a book. 

The dance instructor clapped as the song ended. “Okay, everyone, that’s the choreo for the day. I’ll turn you over to Mr. Meadows.” She nodded to the teacher in the front row. 

“Thank you Miss (Y/N). Take a water break, everyone, we’re back in five.”

A small chorus of “thank you five” was heard from the older students as the kids dispersed off the stage. The woman, Miss (Y/N) as Mr. Meadows had called her, hopped off the stage with ease and joined the younger woman who was taking a high schooler’s measurements. 

“Okay, folks, let’s bring it back!” Mr. Meadows called. “Take your seats, please. I won’t keep you too much longer, I just want to go over today’s notes.” Spencer noticed the monotonous tone of his voice and the elementary schoolers’ attentions already fading. “First, I need my principles, minus Jack and Red, right at 3 tomorrow. Do not be late. Evan, that means you. We have vocal work to do with Ms. (Y/N) and I do not want to waste her time. The rest of my high school cast, 3:30. Next, principles, do your linework. The sooner you start, the easier things will be later. Finally, my junior cast, don’t forget to see Ms. (Y/N) and Ms. Addi with your grown-up before you leave. And with that, I’ll see y’all tomorrow.”

Henry ran over to Spencer, his overly large backpack thumping against his back. Jack walked behind him, dragging his bag behind him. 

“Uncle Spencer!”

“Hey, kiddos!” Spencer said, kneeling down to catch the incoming Henry in a hug. Before he knew what was happening, Henry was dragging him towards the two women at the front of the auditorium. 

“Miss (Y/N)!”

“Hey, Henry! Hi, Jack! You boys find your grownups?” the dance instructor asked him. Her clothes reminded Spencer of the teacher on that Magic School Bus show Henry liked. Her pants were covered in music notes and she wore large, dangle feather earrings.

Henry nodded. “Uh-huh! This is my Uncle Spencer!”

You looked at Spencer and smiled. “Well, while I talk to your uncle, why don’t you go let Miss Addi take your measurements for your costume?”

Once Henry bounded over to the young woman with a clipboard, Jack following close behind, Spencer said, “Uh, my name’s Spencer Reid. I’m an authorized pick-up for both Henry Lamontagne and Jack Hotchner. I’ll be bringing him home today, too.”

“Uh, Hotchner, Hotchner,” you muttered under your breath, flipping through the clipboard in your hands. “Ah, here he is. I just need your signature next to both children’s names, Mr. Reid.”

“Oh, uh, of course.” He took the clipboard and pen from you. “So, are you new to the district? I don’t remember seeing you around before.”

“Oh, no,” you said with a laugh. “No, I’m here on a volunteer basis, technically. Been working with the theater department for six years, but I’m not on their payroll. I actually work-”

“Can we go get pizza now?” Henry asked Spencer, tugging on the sleeve of his jacket. 

“Ooh, a pizza party? You must be the fun uncle,” you said. 

Spencer’s face flushed and cleared his throat. “Uh, s-sure, Henry. We’ll get it on the way home.”

“Bye, Miss (Y/N)!” Henry said, wildly waving his arm. 

“Bye, Henry, bye Jack. I’ll see you boys on Monday.”

Spencer watched you for just a moment longer as another child and her guardian approached you. 

~

The team was reviewing a local case. 3 women were killed, all dressed in period clothing. 

“You think he’s making them look like Jack the Ripper’s victims? I mean, their throats are slashed and they’re dressed in Victorian clothing.” Morgan suggested. “And we know the victims are low-risk, victims of opportunity.”

“I don’t know,” Reid muttered, scrutinizing the crime scene photos. “Something about the clothes feels off.”

“The clothes are the key. Something about them will lead us to him,” Rossi said.

“Reid, you and Callahan look into the clothing more. Dave, you and Morgan go to the latest crime scene. JJ, you’re with me. We need to build a geological profile.” After Hotch gave the assignments, the team dispersed. Spencer and Kate Callahan stayed in the briefing room, looking over the photos. 

“What if we have an expert look at the clothes?” Kate suggested. “See if anything sticks out to them? There’s a professor at the university that’s known for her dissertation on historical clothing.”

~

“Now, if you look at contemporary theater, you’ll notice huge differences in how typical gender roles are portrayed. Unlike the standard Golden Age piece, women are given more agency and more purpose in the story besides furthering the objective of the man. For example, West Side Story versus Hairspray. Even though both shows center on a woman, it’s Tracy’s will that drives the plot of Hairspray whereas Maria’s will does not drive West Side Story. This goes back to our discussion earlier in the semester regarding protagonists. However, we do see a shift during the Golden Age, in that women are beginning to be fleshed out as characters. Compare the women in Allegro to the women in Gypsy. As we progress through to the contemporary age, we begin to see more female-led shows take stage.” You glanced at your watch and sighed. “And that is where we will pick up next class. Please remember to read chapters 13 and 14 in your text. If you have any questions, you know where to find me.”

Your class gathered their belongings and slowly made their way out of the room. You were tucking your own belongings into your bag when you felt someone approach the desk. 

“Office hours are at- Oh, hello.” When you looked up, a woman was standing in front of you, presenting an FBI badge. 

“Dr. (L/N), my name is SSA Kate Callahan, and this is my partner Dr. Spencer Reid.” Standing behind her was a man you recognized from the school. He was the uncle Henry Lamontagne talked about all the time. “We were hoping you’d be willing to give us your professional opinion on some clothing pieces.”

“Oh, well, uh, sure. Let me just email my next class and let them know it’s canceled.” 

As you pulled your laptop out from your bag, Agent Callahan asked, “Don’t you have a TA that could take over?”

You huffed a laugh. “I’m a professor in the theatre department. I’m lucky I have my own workshop and somewhat of a budget during show season.” You typed up a quick email to your next class and sent it. “I usually work in my shop instead of my office, but-”

“Wherever is most comfortable for you,” Agent Callahan said. “We have some pictures that are… well, gruesome.”

You nodded. “Well, then, to the dungeons it is.” At the concerned look the agents gave each other, you said, “My workshop is in the basement. My students affectionately christened it the dungeons a few years ago. I hope you don’t mind a few sets of stairs.”

“Lead the way,” Dr. Reid said. 

Getting down to the costume shop was like a quest on its own. Not only did you have to trudge down several staircases from the classroom floors, but then you had to use your ID to take the elevator the rest of the way down. When you finally reached the basement, you dug your key hoop out of your bag and flicked through it. The key to the main portion of your shop was attached to a Phantom of the Opera keychain. 

You unlocked the door and pushed it open. “Welcome to my shop. Feel free to sit wherever you can. If there’s stuff on a chair, just set it on a workbench.” As you set your bag down at the desk in the corner, Spencer looked around the room. It could be accurately described as organized chaos. While the work benches were covered in fabrics, thread, and many other things Spencer didn’t know the names of, everywhere else was meticulously organized. Bins and drawers were labeled, and not a thing seemed out of place. Spencer looked at the dress hanging on a mannequin and couldn't think of it as anything other than a work of art. There was elaborate beading on the bodice and embroidery on the skirt.

“So, what can I help you with?” you asked as Kate and Spencer got settled. 

“We were hoping you could tell us about the outfits in these pictures,” Spencer said, pulling a file out from his satchel. “Fair warning, it’s not pleasant.”

You shrugged. “I grew up with a mom obsessed with crime shows and police procedurals. Pictures won’t bother me.” 

Spencer handed you the file folder. “We think he’s dressing them up like Jack the Ripper’s victims.”

You hummed as you looked through the pictures. “Any idea what kind of fabric was used?”

“Why does that matter?” Kate asked.

“Well, cotton was a luxury in Victorian London,” you explained. “Most common folk wore linen or wool, because it was what they could afford. It was also common to patch up clothing with fabric found around the house rather than replace a shirt or a pair of trousers.” You grabbed a magnifier from your desk and looked closer at one of the photos. 

“Do you see something?” Spencer asked as you moved to another picture. 

“I’m not sure,” you said. 

“Well, what is your gut telling you?” Callahan asked. 

You pointed toward a small section of embroidery through the magnifier. “This stitching along the underside of the skirt. It’s on all of them.”

Kate’s eyebrows scrunched up. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s a signature. Us designers like to add some sort of signature or tell into all our pieces. A secret way of letting the world know the piece is ours.” You reached across the desk and grabbed a piece of fabric. When you unfolded it, they saw it was a shirt. You held the edge of the sleeve out for the agents to see. “For example, I use a treble clef as mine. My mentor would include Mickey Mouse heads because she was a huge Disney fan. Other people just find creative ways to embroider their initials onto it in a way that just looks like an artistic choice.” 

“So, if we can find out whose signature it is, it can lead us to the origin of the outfits,” Spencer said. 

“I’ll call Garcia, see what she can find.” Callahan said.

“Oh, we don’t get cell service down here, you might need to go back upstairs,” you told her. She nodded and stepped out of the workshop. You cleared your throat. “It’s, uh, it’s nice to see you again, Dr. Reid.”

“You, too,” Spencer said with a small smile. “So, this is where you actually work, huh?”

You gave a small laugh. “Yep. Start of this semester was 7 years.”

“Congrats.”

“Thanks. So-”

“Reid. Hotch wants us back. Rossi and Morgan might have something. Thank you for your help, Dr. (L/N).”

“Of course. Happy to help.”

After Callahan and Reid left the costume shop, Kate said, “Okay, spill. The energy in there was really weird. Why didn’t you tell me you knew her?”

Spencer rubbed the back of his neck. “I, uh, I didn’t know I knew her.” At Kate's questioning look, he explained, “I met her through my godson. She volunteers at his school and goes by her first name there.”

“Uh-huh. And the awkwardness?”

“When have you known me to not be awkward, Callahan?”

Kate hummed, but dropped it.

~

You were humming along to the soundtrack you had playing, measuring a drape of fabric on your dress form, pins sticking out from your mouth. You glanced from your notebook with your measurements and pattern sketch to the fabric. You pinned a piece of the cloth up when you heard a knock at the door to your shop. 

“Come in,” you said, your voice muffled from the pins. You stuck them back in the pin cushion on your wrist before standing up and dusting off your pants. “Oh, Dr. Reid! How can I help you?”

“You, um, you can call me Spencer,” he said. “I uh, I wanted to stop by and tell you we caught the guy,” Spencer said, standing awkwardly in the doorway. “We-we couldn’t have done it without your help.”

“Oh! Well, I’m sure you would have figured it out anyway. The BAU seems to be good at that kind of thing.”

Spencer gave a small laugh. “Yes, but your help enabled us to track him down without any more lives lost.” So, what are you working on?”

“Oh, I’m making one of Eponine’s dresses. We’re doing Les Mis this semester. I have Cosette’s dress on Cordelia over there.”

“Who?”

“Oh, sorry. The dress form. We named them after Shakespearian women. It’s just a fun little thing we do here. That’s Cordelia, this one by me is Rosalind.”

Spencer smiled. You know, maybe you could tell me more about what exactly your job is at dinner?” Before you could answer, Spencer said, “Obviously, you don’t have to, I’m not trying to force you into anything, I-”

“Spencer,” you said, holding your hand up to calm him. “I’d love to go out with you. Here-” You walked over to your desk and shuffled papers around. “Aha!” You grabbed a pen and scribbled something down. “My personal number. That way we can, you know, figure out something that works with both our schedules. I’m sure yours is even crazier and more unpredictable than mine.”

The smile you gave Spencer lit a warmth in his chest that he didn’t think he would ever get tired of. 

~

“Pretty Boy! Tonight, drinks on me.”

“Oh, uh, no thanks, Morgan.”

“No, no, no, you can’t just stay in when we finally have a Friday night off. You’re coming.”

“Look, it’s not that I don’t want to- I mean, I don’t, but it’s not just that. I, um, I already have plans.” He glanced at his watch. “I’ll see you all on Monday.” He grabbed his satchel and rushed out of the BAU office. 

Morgan’s brow furrowed as he watched Spencer’s retreating form. 

“What’s wrong?” JJ asked. 

“Remember the last time Reid was this jittery and secretive?”

She sighed. “You know I do.”

“What happened last time?” Kate asked. 

“Maeve,” Garcia answered, her voice just above a whisper. 

“We have to find out what’s going on with him,” Derek decided.

“I really don’t think that’s necessary-”

“Let’s follow him,” Garcia cut Kate off. “See where he’s going, what he’s up to.”

~

“That can’t be true!” Spencer laughed. “There’s no way!”

You were laughing too. “I’m serious! I stapled the sleeve of my sweater to the set piece we were building and I didn’t notice until we were ready to lift it into place! They wouldn’t let me in the wood shop after that.”

Spencer couldn’t stop smiling the whole night. You were funny, smart, and everything he could hope for. 

“So, how did you end up working with the school district?”

“My niece,” you explained. “Her senior year, their regular choreographer went on maternity leave. The district said if they couldn’t find someone to fill the role, they would cut the play. Julia called me melting down over it, begging me to volunteer. And, you know, I’ve never been able to say no to my nieces and nephews. After that production, we found out that the choreographer was quitting to be a stay-at-home mom, so I agreed to be the regular choreographer on a volunteer basis. Then the next year, their costume connections fell through. I worked through the university to provide costumes, which is how the internship program started. This year, I’m just filling in on vocal directing while the choir director is out on medical leave. And Into the Woods is one of my favorites to sing anyway. So, what about you? How’d you end up working for the FBI?”

While Spencer told you about going to college at 12 and meeting Gideon, Morgan, Garcia, and JJ were sitting at a nearby table, hiding behind menus. 

“Who is she?” Garcia asked, trying to get a better look at you. Your back was to their table.

“I don’t know. Never seen her before.”

JJ squinted. “Something about her seems familiar.”

Before they could do more digging, a waiter came over to take their orders. When the waiter left, Spencer’s table was empty. 

“Where did they-”

Spencer walked up to their table, arms crossed against his chest. “Really, guys? Did you think you were being discreet?”

“Kid, look-”

“You were being all secretive, we were worried about you!” Garcia cut in.

Spencer sighed and dropped his arms. “I didn’t mean to worry you guys. I just- We’re all so in each other’s business, and this is so new I-”

“You wanted to keep it to yourself,” JJ said. “We get it. Looks like she’s coming back from the bathroom. We’ll get out of your hair.”

“But-”

“Come on, Pen. I’m sure he’ll tell us all about it on Monday. Right, Spence?”

Spencer smiled. “Sure, Jayje.”

~

Phone calls with your family always stressed you out. It wasn’t that you had issues with your family, it was just that they always seemed to be up in your business. And that held true for your monthly family dinner.

“(Y/N/N), I’m telling you, you’d get along great with this guy,” your older sister, Maria, said. You were over at her house for dinner, your parents and other two siblings video-calling from their respective locations. “I know you feel like ‘the universe and fate will align’ and introduce you to your soulmate or some shit, but that’s not really how the world works.”

You sighed. “Maria-”

“Come on, you haven’t dated anyone since college!”

“Because I haven’t had any interest. Liz, back me up here,” you said to your younger sister, who was feeding her twin toddlers. 

“What?”

You shook your head. “Never mind. Can we just change the subject, please? Tommy, how’s school going?” you asked your younger brother, the youngest in the family. You could tell he was only half paying attention from his dorm room. “What classes are you taking this semester?”

“Maria’s right, sweetheart,” your mother said. “How will you ever meet someone without putting yourself out there?”

“Ma-”

“I mean, you’re not getting any younger-”

“I have a boyfriend, okay, Ma? I don’t need your help!”

Your family fell silent. 

“You have a boyfriend?” Liz was the first to speak. “What’s his name? Where did you meet? How long have you been together? How-”

“Elizabeth, let her breathe!” your father said with a laugh. “We’re happy for you, pumpkin. Tell us about him. At your pace, of course.”

You smiled and told them about Spencer. Only after promising to bring him to the next real family dinner did they relent and change the subject, pestering your little brother about his college classes.

~

You and Spencer were a damn near perfect match. After that first date, the two of you barely went a day without calling or texting each other. When he was in town and not across the country on a case, he would bring you lunch. You’d frequently stay over at each others’ apartments. Months into your relationship, you knew each other better than yourselves.

Which is why, when you didn’t answer your phone on a Saturday afternoon when the team got back from a case, Spencer was concerned. He made his way to your apartment and fished the spare key you’d given him out of his pocket. He pushed your door open.

“(Y/N)? Love?” He walked into your apartment, which was unusually messy. Scraps of fabric were littered around the room, and music was blasting from your home office. “(Y/N)?”

You came rushing out of your kitchen, your hair a wild mess and your oversized pajama top drooping from your shoulder. You skidded to a halt. 

“Spencer! What are you doing here?”

“We just got in from the case. I tried calling-”

“You did?”

“-to see if you wanted to grab dinner.” You pulled your phone from your sweatpants pocket and saw the 3 missed calls from Spencer. “Are you okay? What’s going on? You look like you haven’t slept in days.”

You sighed. “I haven’t. I’ve been working nonstop. I need to make the mask for the Wolf, the Witch's coat, and Enjolras and the other revolutionary’s waistcoats, and my sister asked me to make a dress for her coworker’s daughter’s quinceanera and-”

“Whoa, whoa, hey. Breathe.” He cupped your face in his hands. “You need to stop working yourself so hard,” he said, rubbing your cheekbone with his thumb. 

“Says the man who overworked himself so much he developed chronic migraines.” At his raised eyebrow, you said, “Sorry.”

He smiled softly and kissed your forehead. “Why don’t you let me help you out a bit? Give me instructions, I’m a quick learner.”

You reached up and pulled his hands from your face. “Spencer. As much as I absolutely treasure and adore you, the thought of you seeing the absolute disaster that is my home workshop right now is literally the most terrifying thing I can imagine. More terrifying than you meeting my family. Which, by the way, my mom is insistent that you come to Thanksgiving this year.” You yawned and leaned your head against his chest. 

“We can talk about that later.” He kissed the top of your head. “How about now, into bed? You’re dead on your feet, love.” When you only nodded, Spencer led you to your bedroom. 

After getting you settled in your bed, Spencer went to stand up. You reached out and grabbed his hand. “Stay,” you mumbled, tugging him towards your bed.

The next morning, Spencer walked into the round-table room late. 

“Well, look who’s wearing the same clothes,” Derek said. “Fun night?”

“Shut up, Morgan,” Spencer said, taking a sip of his coffee. 

Hotch looked over Reid before saying, “As I was saying, Indianapolis needs us to write up a consult. Garcia is passing around the case file.”

~

Spencer was filling out paperwork at his desk when his phone started ringing. “Dr. Spencer Reid.” He froze as he heard the person on the other end of the line. “Oh- oh my god. Yeah, yeah, no, I’ll be right there. Uh, thank you.” He slammed the phone down and started gathering his belongings. 

“What’s wrong, Reid?” JJ asked, watching Spencer cram a folder into his satchel.

“(Y/N)’s at the police station.”

You were walking home from the fabric supply store when a young man stopped you. He couldn’t have been older than 20. He pulled a gun and pointed it at you. 

“Give me your purse,” he said. You saw the way his hand was wavering.

You straightened up. “No.”

“You-you can’t say no! I-I have a gun!”

You just blinked at the man- practically a boy. Then you kicked him in the groin, causing him to drop the gun as his hands flew to cup his injury. You pressed your foot on top of the gun, preventing him from picking it back up, then you dialed the police. 

They brought you to the station to give a statement. You were sitting next to one of the detective’s desks when Spencer ran in. 

“(Y/N)! Are you okay? What happened?”

The detective nodded at you and gestured toward where Reid had come from, indicating you were free to go. 

You shrugged at Spencer. “Some punk-ass kid tried to mug me. Had a gun and everything.”

“What?”

“It’s fine, I knew he wasn’t gonna go through with it.”

“How could you possibly have known that?”

“Spence, I’m from Philly. It’s not the first time someone’s tried to mug me at gunpoint.”

His eyes went wide as saucers. “That doesn’t make it better!”

You smiled and kissed Spencer’s cheek before taking his hand. “I’m fine. Thank you for coming to get me.”

“Of course, (Y/N). I love you.” Your smile widened as Spencer’s face started to pale. “I mean, uh-”

“I love you too, Spence. Come on, let’s get out of here.”

~

“Okay, closing night,” Mr. Meadows said, addressing the students, all in their brightly colored costumes. “I’m incredibly proud of all of you for making it this far. This is our last show, you’ve all done great so far. Go out there and give them one last show to remember. Now, before we get in places, Ms. (Y/N) is going to lead you through a vocal warm-up.”

“Thanks, Mr. Meadows,” you said, taking your spot in front of the group. “Okay, guys, you know the drill. Repeat after me, then all together.” You took a deep breath before leading, “To sit in solemn silence on a dull dark dock, in a pestilential prison with a lifelong lock, awaiting the sensation of a short sharp shock from a cheap and chippy chopper on a big black block.”

After the cast ran through their warm-up, you said, “I’m so proud of all of you. Go out there and break legs. I’ll see you all after at intermission.” You waved before slipping from backstage, making your way to the lobby. 

It wasn’t often that you got to just sit and enjoy the hard work your students put in, but one of your interns was staying backstage in case of any costume emergencies. You spotted Spencer in the crowd and wove through everyone to get to him. With him were Henry’s parents, Jack’s father and aunt, as well as the rest of the BAU team. 

“Hey,” Spencer said, grabbing your hand and giving you a quick kiss. “Glad you could join us.”

“Me, too,” you said as you slowly made your way into the auditorium to find your seats. “It’s gonna be nice to just enjoy the show for once.”

As the show began, you felt Spencer looking at you.

"What?" you whispered.

"Nothing. The costumes are beautiful. You're an artist."

Your cheeks flushed at his words. You took his hand in yours and rested your head on his shoulder.

Like Cinderella and her prince, Spencer was your happily ever after.

[sesshous]

random dating hcs ᰔ mona, alhaitham, gaming

genre: fluff (no prns)

a/n: dating headcanons... drabbles... blurbs (not rly sure what to call these) also mona in the new cat event!! i love mona, she was the first five star i ever wanted and the first one i ever got, so i'm happy she's at least getting some more screentime haha ♡

mona

mona isn’t the most… responsible with her money. while she does have money set aside, the vast majority of her income goes to her life’s interest: astrology. but even with her lack of money, mona still wants to do things with you! … just without a hefty price tag.

mona loves to stargaze — befitting of an astrologist. she loves taking you around different heights of mondstadt! mona knows all the best spots that have a good view of the night sky — pointing out all the constellations, rambling on to you about what they mean… she’ll even make some copies of her own star charts to give you for future reference.

not really a known fact about her, but mona is actually a pretty decent cook! she'd want to prepare you a filling (and cheap), but very delicious meal rather than go out to eat. sometimes, she’ll end up lecturing you on market prices and ways you can prepare meals for a low cost — she wouldn’t want you buying overpriced ingredients when you can get just as good ones for a cheaper price!

and yes, if you ask her nicely she can create and show you reflections other than constellations with her hydromancy… just for you though. she wouldn’t want people to think her hydromancy is all just for show.

(brownie points if you share the same interest in astrology. you’re basically a match at that point.)

“hm? of course, i knew we were destined to be together — the stars never lie.”

gaming

the absolute sweetest! with how much he talks about you, people of liyue have to be living under a rock if they don’t know the two of you are together.

no has no shame with pda gaming will want to hold your hand everywhere you go. or have his arm around you. or hug you — he literally never gets embarrassed about giving you affection! he’s very into physical touch, he finds it’s comforting. i’d like to think he’s warm to the touch too — with or without the pyro vision. great cuddling material for cold days! (… hot ones too — you just have to wear breathable clothes so you don’t overheat.)

you don’t have to be into it as much as he is, but gaming would definitely want to teach you the basics of wushou dancing! he’s always there to help show and guide you through the movements — he likes to think he’s a pretty good teacher! he'll joke about putting on a duo performance… just a joke of course, haha… unless—?

oh, and man chai loves you! i like to think man chai acts more well behaved for you than he does with gaming, (he blames it on all the treats you give him) but he’s so glad you too get along! … even if man chai does steal take more of your attention when you’re together...

“y’know, i'm starting to think man chai likes you way more than he likes me! … but it's you, so i don’t blame him though, haha!”

alhaitham

alhaitham as quite the reputation for being… unapproachable to say the least. to people, his words and gaze seems judgemental, so how could someone stand to be around someone like that? lucky for you, you're able see past what those people seemingly think of him!

the books alhaitham reads aren’t made for the average’s person leisurely reading — their complex and lengthy — but alhaitham feels a kind of… fondness when you ask him to read out loud whatever book he's currently reading to you! …even if you do end up becoming a bit sleepy due to the content of the book (he thinks it’s cute. will he say that to you? … maybe teasingly.) he also will read and take book suggestions from you if you have any for him! he doesn’t just read non-fiction (and if it’s from you, really he’s open to anything. anything.)

because of alhaitham’s day consisting pretty much on a schedule, he finds himself finding ways to incorporate you into it with his free time. he prefers to spend time with you in more quiet and secluded places around sumeru away from people, but i actually feel like he wouldn’t be opposed to dates in public! going to the likes of places such as the grand bazaar to see what people are selling or watching performances that are put on in the theatre (though most of the time it’s you dragging him out… he does find it entertaining to see your face light up at all of the sights)

on some occasions, he’ll bring you along with him when he’s invited out for drinks with cyno, kaveh and tighnari. (try your best to tease him in front of them, but he’ll always have a playful quip right back at you.)

"really? because sometimes i think you love using me more as a pillow than an actual boyfriend. i’m only joking dear, i love you too.”

[bettsfic]

dads have it right. reading the newspaper first thing in the morning is the shit. i subscribed to my local newspaper recently and i, a neurodivergent person who cannot for the life of me develop habits, immediately took to reading the newspaper with my coffee each morning. like it's some kind of evolutionary instinct: fight, flight, freeze, read the obits and sip on some lukewarm folgers at 9am. is the news depressing as hell? yeah. but now i know the local arby's failed its health inspection. i know that all those sirens i heard last night were for a domestic dispute two streets down from my apartment. i know there's a new food truck a town over. i know the middle school principal has been on administrative leave because he refused to punish a boy who stole clothes from the girls' locker room. i found out two dudes were fired from the state teachers' retirement treasury for mismanagement of funds and i called my grandma like, "hey have you heard about this?" because that's her primary income and of course she has because she watches the news 3 times a day, and we gossiped about state teachers' retirement fund embezzlement. i wake up and i don't even think about looking at my phone. i turn on the coffee pot, step outside, and grab the paper. touching grass first thing in the morning: life changing.

[simply-ivanka]

Democrats, Blame Yourselves

Voters on Tuesday repudiated the results of progressive policies.

By The Editorial Board Wall Street Journal

If Democrats want some sage counsel on how to recover from their electoral drubbing on Tuesday, we suggest they recall that classic relationship breakup line from Seinfeld’s George Costanza: “It’s not you; it’s me.”

The temptation after a defeat this humiliating is to hunt for scapegoats—fading Joe Biden, untutored Kamala Harris, Russian disinformation, benighted and racist voters. They’d be wiser to look in the mirror.

The defeat was less a resounding endorsement of Mr. Trump than a repudiation of progressive governance. America rejected the consequences of left-wing policies. Democrats lost ground from 2020 across many demographic groups, according to the exit polls. Even women moved percentage points closer to Mr. Trump. How could Democrats possibly lose like this to a man they think is Hitler? Allow us to offer a list for liberal reflection:

• The failure of Bidenomics. Democrats once understood that private business drives growth and higher incomes. Sometime in the 21st century, they came to believe that government spending creates wealth—via the “Keynesian multiplier” and other nostrums.

Thus they passed, on a party-line vote, a $1.9 trillion pandemic-relief bill that wasn’t really needed, fueling the highest inflation in decades. This robbed millions of workers of real wage gains, which haunted Democrats on Tuesday as two-thirds of voters said they were unhappy with the state of the economy.

• Cultural imperialism. Democrats took their 2020 victory as an invitation to turn identity politics into woke policy. They stood with transgender activists instead of parents who don’t want boys to play girls sports or elementary teachers to pass out pronoun pins. Republicans hammered Democrats with ads that attacked Democratic votes against tying federal funds to transgender school policies.

Democrats also began using the term “Latinx,” which sounds to many Spanish-speakers like illiterate cultural imperialism from elites. Could that and other woke policies have played a role in Mr. Trump winning 46% of the Hispanic vote and 55% of Latino men, according to the exit polls?

• Regulatory coercion. In pursuit of their climate obsessions, Democrats pushed coercive mandates, including an EPA rule effectively saying that by 2032 only 30% of new car sales can be gas-powered models. The EV mandate caused layoffs among auto workers in Michigan that Mr. Trump attacked in TV ads and on the stump.

• Lawfare. Democrats used Mr. Trump’s divisiveness to escalate against him at every turn. After calling him a Russian stooge and impeaching him twice, Mr. Biden labeled him a “fascist” and Democrats tried to bar him from the ballot.

They criminally indicted Mr. Trump—four times—and targeted his family business with a civil suit. They convicted him in New York, under an elected Democratic prosecutor who stretched the law to turn misdemeanors into felonies, in a case that wouldn’t have been brought against another businessman.

The strategy turned Mr. Trump into a martyr to GOP voters and cemented his support in the Republican primaries.

• Breaking democratic norms. Democrats decided to use taxes from plumbers and welders to forgive college loans for lawyers and grad students in grievance studies. When the Supreme Court struck Mr. Biden’s effort down as an abuse of power, he tried again and taunted the Court to stop him.

Democrats tried to override the Senate filibuster to seize control of the nation’s voting laws and impose practices such as ballot harvesting, as Mr. Biden raged that his opponents were creating “Jim Crow 2.0.”

They tried to override the filibuster to pass a national abortion law that would go beyond Roe v. Wade. They promised to override the filibuster in 2025 to bulldoze the High Court. They ran Joe Manchin and Kyrsten Sinema out of the party for disagreeing.

All of this and other progressive preoccupations caused Democrats to lose sight of the larger public interest. They came to believe, backed by the mainstream press, that voters would tolerate it all because Mr. Trump was simply unacceptable.

This opened the door for Mr. Trump to remind voters that they were better off under his policies four years earlier. Mr. Trump won more than 72 million ballots. He improved his standing with minority voters. He gained votes even in Democratic states.

Voters were telling Democrats on Tuesday that the party has wandered into ideological fever swamps where most Americans don’t want to go. Winning those voters again will require more than firing back up the anti-Trump “resistance.”