#3 years now and I'm still not used to all the bullshit

[pagerunner-j]

Fair warning, this is probably going to be incoherent. I haven't slept much and I am in a mood.

-

I have so many criticisms of CR campaign 3, and a fair few about the finale in particular, but here's where I'm drawing a line in the sand. The sort of complaints from people who've put all their energy into clinging onto a pet tragedy, and then whining about how this story "undoes" it, are doing my head in. It's exactly like the complaints about Donna's story in the DW 60th anniversary specials and I hated hearing it then, too. Because a plot that's still willing to grapple with the long-term effects of something tragic, even though the story eventually turns in a different direction, doesn't erase the fact that the tragedy happened. It's just a story that's willing to let its characters change and circumstances soften until eventually, finally, they might find somewhere to put those burdens down. It's a story that's willing to take a breather in the end and be kind.

What in the world is wrong with that?

Seriously, that's the part we're choosing to be up in arms about?

This?

There's a very real point at which I feel like this attitude is a twisted-up mess of some weird sort of sunk-cost fallacy, crossed with grimdark nonsense. Like, to return to DW, Sally Sparrow brooding through life going "sad is happy for deep people" was not supposed to be aspirational. That was self-absorbed drama-queen bullshit from the get-go. Spending all your time wallowing in misery (and especially other people's misery. Fictional misery, even. I mean, how selfish is that? You want all the woe in the world to be melodramatic about, but none of the personal consequences you claim to be All About, because ugh, that might...suck...? Yeah, no kidding) and pretending that that's more real and worthy and smart, and that it gives you a superior perspective to everyone else? It doesn't. It's not a healthy way to live. And insisting that everyone else has to put up with a sad thing forever, too, because you've pinned that much importance and your own self-worth on it, is really just you dumping your own misery on everyone else in order to go on proving your case.

And it is so much worse (warning here from Editor Page: personal rant ahead, because yeah, this is why I'm getting so angry and frustrated) to do that straight at people who've lived through years of very real tragedy, who are desperate for any of that to get lifted and find reasons to keep trudging on, somehow, somehow, wanting some shred of hope fucking anywhere, please, and who really don't need sanctimonious lectures about someone else's own supposedly superior understanding and how I guess people are just shallow and stupid if they aren't willing to wallow in the murk forever while droning on about how that means they know better. Even if they fucking don't. Give it a rest.

...and, um, yeah, that might be me projecting a wee bit. just possibly.

But I'm exhausted with listening to people who maybe need to stop listening to themselves talk for a bit and could use a smack upside the head with the perspective stick once in a while.

The perspective stick I'm holding says this:

The consequences you won't shut up about still happened. And "consequences" doesn't only mean misery and death and that's it forever. As far as I'm concerned, consequences matter a whole lot more if you still have to live with it. That you have to accept that certain things have permanently changed you and you're still bearing the marks, and even if something good comes along, you're still going to have to do the work to figure out how you fit with that, now. But that still doesn't exclude the possibility that better things could come of it. If you can't believe that, what's the point?

Groaning on about how tragedy is forever and it's worthless if it isn't is honestly the easy, lazy, selfish way out. It's collapsing under grief and then insisting that the rest of the world does, too, because otherwise you're feeling called out and invalidated about the fact that you gave in. And personally, especially after spending a good decade absolutely clinging on by my fingernails trying not to do the same, I'm not fucking here for that. Ever.

So yeah. tl;dr: Some of y'all self-absorbed drama queens need to get the fuck over yourselves and try letting some joy back into your lives once in a while.

Rant ends.

*faceplants into a pillow*

[envolvenuances]

it just makes me so angry that the debilitating pain and fatigue endometriosis causes are barely discussed and the disease is always talked about in relation to fertility and pain during penetration. and in the second there's so much pressure on the woman to accommodate and never the suggestion that the male partner needs to have sympathy and find different ways to have sex. sometimes you find a doctor researching or discussing "endo belly" which is one of the terrible symptoms but also such a stupid term to refer to severe painful constipation and with too much emphasizes on appearance and "shame". like can we talk about the chronic pain and fatigue? can we talk about the endometrial tissue causing nerve damage and organ failure? no I'm not talking about my uterus and ovaries exclusively no my concern is not my infertility it's the tissue on my diafragma that has been bothering me to breath

[f4y3w00d5]

This case is making me so fucking angry. theyre using common transphobic language, and also theyre not even HIDING their BLATANT FUCKING TRANSPHOBIA-

Wanna see the poster that made me aware of this current bullshit going on?

The second paragraph. 'Roxy Tickle is a man that wants to be a woman.' Okay, well a simple google search says shes transgender. Going a bit more in depth? She has done Three years of hormone therapy and gender reaffirmation surgery. Like this isnt a transgender woman who has done nothing to change her identity, she's got surgery and 3 years of hormone therapy! And looking more into it? She has said;

"I am now legally a woman.

“I am already allowed to have a female gendered passport thanks to the letter from my GP confirming that they are treating me.

“I only have one step left - to update my birth certificate to say that I’m female.

“I needed two medical specialists saying they have seen my genitals and they both needed to sign a form in the presence of a JP.

"These are the most extreme levels of identity proof I’ve ever come across – to have to show your genitals to an MD is embarrassing to prove who you are. The documentation has all now been completed and I will mail it this weekend."

That was all 4 years ago. 7 years of this shit now. (as of today, april 11th, 2024)

And the poster still refers to her as a he?

And thats the picture they use. Now heres a better one.

That was deliberate. They used an unflattering photo of her, and a very flattering one of Sall, just to try and tip people to Salls side. Common marketing ploy.

More research shows that she now has her birth certificate identifying her as female.

And this isnt enough?

By her logic, shouldnt a trans man be allowed on giggle, no matter how far through transitioning they are, purely because they were born female? I get the feeling that she would say no. This is simply blatant transphobia. Personally, I cant do anything, being a minor. I'm not sure how far this case is along, seeing as it started 2 days ago.

But I simply cant let this slide. When I saw it this afternoon it made me so fucking angry.

This case could change a lot of things. Make a lot of changes that make everything far worse for non cis gendered people, potentially influencing things world wide

[endearng]

Out of reach

Pairing: earlyseasons!Spencer Reid x hotchner!fem!reader Summary: You pull away from Spencer because of your jealousy. You go back to him after a few drinks in. WC: 9k A/N: fluff! pining! idiots/friends to lovers! alcohol consumption; spencer is a bit mean; reader doesn't communicate; hotch is a little older to have a daughter around spencer's age (do not come at me this is fiction). If I missed anything, please let me know! I had so much fun writing this one and it's now one of my favorites <3 masterlist

The jet was quiet as you and the BAU team made your way back from Los Angeles after successfully finding Lila Archer's stalker. The case had been a bit draining, after all, you've only been working with the FBI for a couple of months, and seeing dead bodies and all those other displays of violence was something you were still trying to get used to. Despite your sensitive nature, being Aaron Hotchner's daughter meant that you had mastered the art of a poker face through the years, not that it meant that your inner feelings were any less important. This is how you found yourself sitting all alone in a corner of the jet as everyone minded their own business. On any other day, you'd be sitting next to Dr. Spencer Reid, talking about whatever it was that could get your mind off the case you had just wrapped up. Spencer and you were friends, some would even say the best of friends, but you didn't mind about naming things — what mattered the most is that you got to be yourself around him and you didn't bother hiding behind the Hotchner glare, as he once put it.

Despite being unknown territory for you, after all, feelings and all that were protected by a deeply analytic and practical mind, you knew what you were feeling. Well, you were analyzing your reactions to check what had actually happened — and the thing is, you couldn't admit, not even to yourself, what that sinking feeling in your chest when you watched Spencer saying goodbye to Lila was. Amid your analysis, Spencer quietly approached you, silently motioning to the seat next to you. You nodded, shutting every single thought of him. Or at least, trying.

"Hi."

Hotch glare. "Hi, Reid."

Spencer felt nervous. He had never been on the receiving end of your… wrath before, so it was unknown territory and he didn't know how to act. His racing heart and clammy palms weren't helping him, either. Taking a deep breath, he said, "Listen, um, you... can... can we talk?" The stammering. Way to go, Spencer.

Glancing at him, ignoring the skip in your heartbeat, you nodded. "Yeah. Is everything alright?" A firm, secure tone. You mentally patted yourself on the back.

"You're a little distant... and—and I got a bit worried. Did... Did something happen?" He wanted to kick himself. What kind of person can't hold a serious conversation without stuttering like an idiot? Get a grip, Reid.

"No, Reid. Everything is alright. I'm just... thinking." You said.

Bullshit. You both knew that. Spencer, on the other hand, didn't know why it was bullshit. But he knew it was.

"Are you sure?" He asked, leaning towards you, almost invading your personal space and he shut his eyes before delivering the next question, "Is... I haven't done anything to upset you? Right?"

You took a second to answer him, willing your voice to stay still and the knot in your throat to go away. "No. It's nothing you've done. It's just... it's on me." You gave him a small smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes — that's when he knew something was definitely wrong.

He nodded, but he was still worried by your sudden change of behavior, especially towards him. It was like he was anyone else, again. And, God, he didn't want that. "What is it, then? You can talk to me, you know. We're best friends."

Best friends.

The words felt bitter on his tongue. The sound of them broke your heart all over again.

Best friends. "Right. Yeah. I know." You said, quietly, and it felt a little lifeless to him. He clenched his hand, fighting the urge to touch you, to ask you what was truly bothering you. "Thanks for offering."

Spencer felt conflicted. If he didn't say anything and didn't push you to speak, you would probably bury whatever it was that you were feeling and it would lead him into being even more worried about you. If he did, you would probably snap at him because of his undesired, bothersome insistence. "It's nothing." He said, defeatedly. "Can you just... Do you promise it's not me?"

Your heart ached and you smiled at him, a tiny, faint, barely there smile. He was so adorable, sometimes. "I'm just upset over something else. Don’t worry. You didn't do anything wrong." You finished, trying to convince yourself that he had not, indeed, done something wrong.

And he didn't. He didn't. You and Spencer, despite your proximity and sometimes incredibly ambiguous relationship, hadn't said anything about deeper feelings towards one another. You let yourself admire him, lovingly, from afar, and were happy with the snippets of attention you had from him when you two had some free time. You two were regulars in the coffee shop near his apartment and, by now, the local librarian, Mrs. Jones, could probably fake your signature from how often you two went there to borrow books. She would watch you two behind the bookshelves, whispering excitedly and curiously to each other about whatever suggestions you were getting from each other. As you missed Spencer's longing glances to read a summary, Mrs. Jones smiled to herself, both at how adorable you two were and how oblivious you were. In museums, you would sit down after some time walking around to his explanations of art and historical movements that impacted the expression of a certain age — you pretended to not know a few things, just so he could speak his heart away and not be interrupted by your own contributions.

You kept silent to make him happy.

Which was exactly what was happening now.

Spencer knew, for sure, that you were hiding something from him. But he also knew that he had no right to force it out. He fidgeted awkwardly, not knowing what to do with his hands, his heart still clenching. “But, but... you’d come to me if you needed help, right?”

You nodded, unable to speak. You knew you were wrong, omitting things from him. Just as the guilt was starting to weigh in your heart, Derek passed by you two with a magazine in his hands, throwing it at Spencer, exclaiming, "My man!"

You looked down, already knowing what it was. Spencer was a mess beside you: blushing, stuttering, avoiding your and Derek's gaze and throwing the magazine as far as he could, like it had burned him. Your reaction was a subtle twitch of your lips, not in amusement, but in need to disguise the pang in your heart. You both spent the rest of the flight sitting in silence, simply being in each other's orbit. You, guiltily. Spencer, worriedly.

Your reaction — or lack of — was staggering to Spencer. He thought you two were getting somewhere, despite your closed off nature and demeanor, he thought he was finally cracking you up. Everyday was torture, seeing you walk through the bullpen's glass doors with your professional clothes and your composed figure. It was torture to see you walk around so prettily and serious, holding his bare heart in your hands, and not even realizing it. By now, he lived and thrived on those rare opportunities you had to spend time together as he became more and more covered in you.

As the jet landed and Spencer walked out to talk to Derek, you pettily made sure to step on Lila Archer's face when leaving the jet in sheer frustration.

Back to the bullpen, you had gone to the restroom to splash some water on your face in order to calm your nerves and to tell yourself that it was only a matter of time until things got back to normal — until you got back to normal. Glancing at your reflection in the mirror, you wondered if Spencer could tell that there was something wrong with you, if you had let any of your feelings slip during your short conversation. The version of you that stared back was as impassible as you ever were. As you made your way to your desk in the dimly lit sea of desks, you caught Spencer and Derek talking, both having their backs to you.

Sighing, you just left the headquarters, not wanting to know what they were discussing, or rather, knowing what they were discussing, but unwilling to stay, even if it would quench your curiosity as to what Spencer had been thinking.

Maybe you didn't want to know the answer.

—

The days went by, cases coming left and right, flights making you almost dizzy — not that you would admit, but you were terrified of heights. Between those and your training, you barely had time to think about Spencer and the entire Lila occasion. You spent your days busy with work, studies and physical training in order to keep your mind away from that, but as you lay awake at night, the memories would come back to haunt you relentlessly to the point you had recurring dreams of them. Together, as you watched from the sidelines. You kept to yourself, slipping further and further away from Spencer.

Reid, on the other hand, felt your absence more than anyone. You took a rain check on all the invitations he made, even when he invited you to movie night, when he would definitely choose a Russian movie because you mentioned once how you liked how the language sounds. There wasn't any more donuts on his desk as he arrived in the morning (he would always joke that you and your father secretly lived in the headquarters and that someday he would see Haley bringing your groceries to the secret house), and there was no one for him to throw his paper airplanes, small flashcards with the Russian phonological alphabet, at. The change in your behavior was absurdly clear to everyone: you barely called or texted him anymore, you didn't look his way when someone told a joke to check if he thought it was funny... He was sulking, to say the least. Upon questioning you, you blamed your lack of free time and as he was going to question you further, you said in a teasing tone that not everyone was like him and that the FBI was actually making you go through all the training phases.

Finally, during the end of a particularly frustrating workday, he finally snapped, grabbing your arm before you could enter the elevator. It was only you and him in the otherwise empty hallway. "Ok. What's been going on? And don't," he said, closing his eyes, "don't dance around the subject. Don't say it's the Academy. Don't say you have to work. Don't. Please, be honest with me."

The exasperation in his eyes and in his tone almost broke the wall that hid your true feelings, but as you glanced at him, you figured you couldn't do it. Be honest? What for? To hear that you're nothing more than his best friend? Losing said friend was not an option, not to you, at least. But you also knew that you weren't treating him right, that keeping him out was not at all fair to him, that leaving him in the dark was as hurtful as it would be to lose him.

Breathing deeply, you answered with the same stoic expression you wore every single damn day. "I told you, Reid. People go through different, busier times in their lives." The lie tasted like acid.

Spencer clenched his teeth, frustration and confusion beginning to override some of his social anxieties. “That! That!” He asked through clenched teeth, his gaze intense.

"That what?" You asked, puzzled.

"You... you stopped calling me 'Spence'—not that you did it often, you did it more when we were all alone, and it... it sucks! It sucks because I don't know what happened or what I did that was so wrong to make you stop liking me!"

Come on, just say something! Get angry, get sad, get something!, his mind screamed.

"I never stopped liking you," you said, looking away from him. His words hit a particular spot that you were totally willing to discover later, but the mere thought that he knew that you liked him more than as a friend made you shiver.

"That's not the point! Or—or rather, it is! Because if you didn't stop liking me, why would you act like you did?" He asked, his tone rising a bit.

"Calm down."

"Calm down? I will not calm down!" He almost yelled. His eyes widened slightly, disbelief clear in his features and tone, not to mention the frustration. "Just. Please.” He said, closing his eyes, willing himself to tone it down, not that it worked... “Tell me what you're thinking, what happened to you! For once! Any normal person would react and stop acting like an emotionless robot!"

You gaped like a fish out of water, taking a small step back, his words digging a hole in your heart. Upon hearing his own words and noticing you distancing yourself from him, all the anger vanished from his body. The widened eyes were a sign of realization of what he had said to you. During the early months of friendship, you had confided in him that you struggled with portraying emotion like others normally did. Maybe it had something to do with growing up with a father who did it so perfectly when he was out of the house. When he wasn't actively playing the ‘dad’ part, Aaron Hotchner would wear an unreadable mask like it was his armor, his defense from the outer world, but as soon as he got home, he was back to his main role. You would watch him with his coworkers and mimic him perfectly to make him laugh. At some point, making fun of and imitating his demeanor had become some serious form of self-defense for you. Spencer, then, joked that you were making your way to the perfect job, but then he had gotten serious and told you that it wasn't a flaw. That it wasn't a problem that you kept deeply to yourself sometimes — that it was okay to be yourself around him. You had felt safe by his side since then.

But now, what did those words mean? Were they lies?

He breathed out your name, softly, "I... I... I'm sorry."

"Just drop it," you replied, pushing the elevator button. Your dismissive tone and your action of leaving made Spencer feel utterly desolate, like he had done the wrongest thing in the world and perhaps he had, but he just wanted you to let him in. For once, he wanted to have the answers from your lips, not spend any more time analyzing your every single action and words...

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..."

"You know, Spencer…" he looked up at you when he heard his name, as you held out an arm to hold the elevator doors open. As if thinking better than to say anything, you sighed and turned to enter the elevator, shaking your head with the most disappointed look he had ever seen on your face.

Spencer tried looking at you one last time before the elevator doors closed, and despite your face being as unreadable as it often was, he saw a flicker of sadness that stung his heart more than he liked to admit. If he hadn't done anything wrong before, now he had utterly fucked everything up.

—

The drive home, for Spencer, was a torture. He knew that he had to pay attention to the road ahead of him, to the other vehicles and drivers, but his mind kept drifting to the last glimpse of you back in the headquarters. Your empty eyes appeared behind his eyelids every time he pressed his eyes closed. He willed himself not to cry, to not blur his vision, taking his frustration out on the steering wheel, where his grip was so tight that his knuckles turned white. As he parked his car and looked up to one of his windows, he remembered you. Because of course he would remember you.

The sight was almost comical, to be honest. You, clad in one of the suits that fitted you so well, sitting on his windowsill, a cup of green tea in hands as you stared out the window, trying to analyze every single drop of rain before it reached somewhere outside your vision range. The funny thing was that you had no shoes on, instead, Spencer lent you a mismatched pair, not being one used to having people over, he didn't have a pair of spare slippers. Then, you sat there with a dinosaur-pattern sock on one foot and a striped-pattern sock on the other.

Spencer, sitting on his sofa and holding his own cup (he had let you choose your mug and stayed quiet when you pointed quietly at his favorite), smiled to himself. It was weirdly calming seeing you out of your character, doing something so... human.

"I can feel you staring, you know," you said. And your tone was almost... teasing?

"Right. Sorry." He said, looking down at his steaming tea.

"I'm not scolding you," you said, turning to look at his direction with a grin.

"Right, no—heh..." he replied, bashfully, cheeks reddening at the sight of your smile.

If only you knew... how many hours he would lay awake at night, as thoughts swirled in his head, how everything seemed to shut down at the thought of you. How he would fall asleep to the wish of being on the receiving end of one of your rare smiles, how he appreciated that you were always the first one he talked to upon his arrival at the headquarters. How... how he would do anything for you to look at him under a different light.

Seemingly out of nowhere, you giggled. Everything stopped.

Spencer.exe has stopped working.

"Heheh—I guess... It's not everyday you get to see a Hotchner so out of its—heheh—habitat." You quipped, looking at him with a smile on your face.

Suddenly, Spencer lost his voice. The connection between his brain and his tongue, which felt heavy, disappeared. Completely speechless, eyes slightly wide at the sound of your laughter. It made you laugh a bit more, but when his stare and open mouth got too much to handle, you looked down at your feet, wiggling your toes to distract yourself from the intensity of his gaze full of awe. Then, Spencer got back to his senses, smiling at you as you missed it to look away in embarrassment.

Spencer blinked away the tears and left his car, entering his apartment. As he took off his shoes, he let the tears fall at the sight of your windowsill.

—

Meanwhile, you were getting wasted at some bar. Not just any bar, but the one you usually went with Spencer when you were feeling daring and wanted a change from the places where you both used to go to. You were a bit of a lightweight, so a couple of drinks were enough for you to start playing trivia with Spencer and let your gaze linger for longer, basking in the sight of him so carefree, having fun with you.

Upon your arrival, the bartender that usually took care of your orders, MJ, greeted you with a smile. When she saw no one was joining you, she frowned. "Good evening, Hotch. Where's loverboy?"

You sent her a look, but since you were letting your guard down, after all, there were no acquaintances or friends around, you didn't know if the look came out as a glare or if you looked like a kicked puppy. She snorted. "Gee... That bad, huh?" She asked, and you didn't answer again, though you muttered a soft thanks, MJ when she gave you your go-to drink.

And it turned into two drinks. Three. Four...

(MJ was now giving you alcohol-free drinks, too worried for your well-being. You and Spencer started to grow on her as you two kept coming back.)

You rested your chin on your left hand while you traced patterns with your right index finger on the counter. MJ was eyeing you suspiciously, drying a few glasses with a washcloth. "He kissed another girl." You admitted, quietly.

"No way." She gasped.

"Way."

"But... I thought you two were a thing." MJ was baffled, placing down the objects she was holding in sheer shock. "I always thought you two were like... together for years."

"We were a thing.... I think, at least... I don't know, MJ." You sighed, tucking a stray of hair behind your ear. Looking up at her, hazy eyes taking in her focused expression, you sniffled, "we were on this case and then he met a girl and then the next moment the two of them were making out in a pool. In a freaking pool."

She tsked, anger flashing in her eyes, "I swear, those nerdy guys are the worst."

"Yeah..." You muttered, fiddling with your straw. "Can I have another one?"

She pursed her lips, but she relented. Then, as she handed you the liquid, a guy sat next to you. Did he look like Spencer or were you already hallucinating?

"Hi. I'm Dave. Can I buy you a drink...?" He asked with a small smile, wanting to know your name.

No, not Spencer. It’s cool.

"Hi, I..."

MJ cut you off. "Hey, Dave, I think she had too much to drink already."

They exchanged looks and it took you a minute to feel offended by her interruption and knowing you were perfectly capable of speaking for yourself, but realizing you would probably have to entertain a stranger, you felt grateful for it.

Dave left with a sour smile. "Thanks." You muttered, again, looking at MJ.

"Do you need me to get you a cab, honey?"

"That would be great." You said, placing money bills to pay for your drinks and the tip.

MJ looked around to spot someone to keep an eye on the bar as she led you out of the place, hand never leaving your shoulder. As she called a cab, she made you stand on only one leg to make sure you weren't gonna need her to go with you. You scoffed, but obeyed her all the same, with a low snicker. As you two waited for the cab driver, a woman who MJ trusted with her life (and her favorite regulars), you tried to make conversation to make up for embarrassing yourself by talking about Spencer with someone. How pathetic.

"So, what does MJ stand for?"

She chuckled, shaking her head at you and at your dazed eyes. "That's classified information."

"I'm familiar with that."

The cab driver, Paula, arrived. She greeted the both of you with a smile and a cheerful good evening! As you entered the vehicle, you rolled the windows down and pressed the subject further, "Seriously, is it Mary Jane or were your parents more creative?"

She rolled your eyes at you, shaking her head. "It's Mary Jane. MJ because who would take me seriously?"

You smiled. "I like the shoes!"

Paula started driving slowly, just to let other drivers drop their own passengers, as you were lost in your own little world, serious expression taking over your face again, not wavering, as you delved deeper into the whirlwind of thoughts plaguing your head. Paula, looking at you through the rear-view mirror, asked, "Is everything okay, honey?"

You buckled your seatbelt. "Yes, yes. Just... keep driving slowly, please."

"Where to?"

Only then you realized you never gave her an address. Closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, you gave her Spencer's, telling her you were going home.

—

An unknown number had sent Spencer a couple of messages.

[8:32 p.m.] Lovergirl is here, drinking all by herself.

[8:32 p.m.] Water, but still. I'm not having her passed out without you here.

[8:40 p.m.] Sent her home, people were starting to approach.

Throughout the time he had spent with you at the bar, the two of you exchanged numbers with MJ in case she needed your help — you know, being FBI agents and whatnot. But Spencer didn't need to see her name to know it was her and she was talking about you; 'lovergirl' and 'passed out without you here' gave him clue enough. His stomach tied in knots when he read that people were starting to approach her, the nagging feeling that the image conjured in his mind was making him feel almost sick, then, it hit him like a truck: Lila Archer.

Their… case? was as fleeting as a careless glance. To be honest, Spencer accepted her advances to spite you for having such power over him, even if unknowingly so. The young agent felt like you were so out of his league, so out of reach — you were all that pile of confidence and stoicism and pure lusciousness and everything to him. And he was a young guy who truly had barely been kissed so far. How could he approach you, charm his way into your heart, especially when you barely bared it? With Lila, it was... nice. Easy, even. It was nice being wanted, to be able to read her intentions and desires like a children's book. With you, it was a tantalizing challenge, one he was, for the first time, struggling with. It was not like having a high-school crush, not like pining over the untouchable girls that would catch his interest as he grew older. No. This was something new. You had hit him deeper than ever or anyone before.

Plus, as much as he hated to admit it, he gave room to the anxious thoughts regarding your father as well. Would it affect his relationship with his superior? Would it affect your relationship with your father? Spencer felt dizzy just by the mere thought of ruining something uniquely yours. No, he couldn't impose himself on your life like that. It was mean, it was wrong, it was immoral.

To want, to desire, is to be selfish.

It was a bold assumption. To think you were jealous of him. Nevertheless, the signs were all there, had been all along. He was just dumb and scared enough of making assumptions.

A barely there, faint sound of a knock on his door made Spencer fly out of his bed, dropping his phone on the bedroom floor, but he didn't pick it up. He had a suspicion as to who could be knocking on his door, but he was too scared of assuming anything. Again. Opening the door, he saw you, breathing a bit heavily. The stairs, he supposed. You always complained about them. Once you exchanged looks, Spencer’s surprised one and your earnest one, you asked, "Do you really think I'm a robot?"

Shit. He could feel his heart breaking in a million little pieces. The insecure edge of your voice and words made him squeeze his eyes shut; in his mind, he was kicking himself simultaneously as he sank down to his knees, on your feet, begging you to forgive and forget his dumb, stupid, frustrated, unrealistic words.

"No," he breathed out, wincing, almost as if he was in physical pain. "I—I didn't mean to talk about you like that. I was..."

"Frustrated?"

He nodded, silently, eyes never leaving your face. Your speech, albeit way out of the ordinary that he was used to, was flawless. If not by the dilated pupils and the faint smell of alcohol, not to mention MJ's texts, he would dare to say you were perfectly sober. "I was, too." You admitted, looking down.

Spencer made way for you to enter his apartment. He watched as you kicked your shoes off. The sight, that had become as common as the act of breathing, made his way flutter. You intended on staying. Or so he hoped. You walked further into the place, noticing everything as it ever was, as if you hadn't been to his apartment for some time now. "You must be thinking why I'm here," you said, moving to sit on the couch and mentioning him to sit on the small coffee table in front of you, as if you owned the place, and not him.

Perhaps it was true.

He closed the door once you were inside, hesitating for a moment before joining you. He kept noticing things about you; the way you were walking, the way you could barely look him in the eye, the way you looked… “How much did you have to drink?” He asked, quietly.

"Not much. You know I don't usually drink because I can’t hold my drinks. And I'm sure MJ was giving me plain water at some point." You said, looking up at him. Well, at least, your speech flawlessly delivered, even though you were moving a bit more… disoriented than usual. She's totally a Hotchner.

"I... I am," he started, sitting in front of you carefully. "I... I'm sorry. It's just... You've never been so distant. I guess that I was mean to you to elicit some reaction."

Your analytical gaze softened upon his confession. You needed to give him some break, be a little easy on him. Well, easier than you were being as of lately. Nodding lightly, you added, "I'm here to apologize, too. I know... I know that I pushed you away and I made you think that... that that was your fault. It's not."

He froze. No, he wouldn't have you taking the blame for how his actions caused you to react. He looked up at you, reaching out a hand to touch your intertwined ones, "It is."

"Hear me out. Please." You said, lowly, not breaking eye contact. This was so hard, and you had never felt so afraid before. How ironic — to be afraid of being brave. "I... I guess that by now you know why I pulled away."

"I do," he admitted, nervously. "It took me some time, but I... I think I figured you out."

You looked down, embarrassed. It was overwhelming for him to see you portray such different and so many emotions all at once. To you, it was as agonizing as it was freeing. "Well, yes. So... It, um, it wasn't fair. We... we are not something. We are not a thing."

His heart, doing all the thinking and feeling, nearly stopped. As if it wasn't enough, you kept on going, "I'm sorry, I truly am, for how I behaved and how I made you feel by being absent. It's... it's not my place. You have your own life, Reid. I can't be upset with you for making decisions. You're a grown man..." you sighed, glancing at every direction but at him. "I know that I'm wrong, okay? And I know that I shouldn't have pushed you away, nor should I have kept my feelings from you."

Spencer drew in a long breath. He didn't know what to say, but you couldn't be more wrong. All at once, he wanted to scream, but he didn't know what ro say; he wanted to run, but he didn't want to leave you alone — not for a second. He didn't ever want you out of his sight; he didn't want to be the one you were apologizing to, hell, he wanted everything to be okay between them, but it was nice that she was talking to him, finally.

"I..."

Every time he thought he could say something, words failed him. Then, you took it as another opportunity to word-vomit everything you've been feeling. "I was... I was jealous. I didn't like to see that. I didn't like that it happened. But I also know that I have no right to be upset with you because you're single and she's attractive and you're both consenting and willing to do whatever you please, so..." You shrugged as if speaking those words aloud didn't stab new holes in your heart.

Spencer looked at you, totally speechless. It made you snicker. And speak further. Shut up, you idiot. Please, please, please! "And, ah—hahahah—I guess I am, indeed, a bit of a robot because it took me a bit of alcohol to pluck up the courage to come here and totally—hic—destroy our friendship by telling you I love you so much; that I'd hate to see you with anyone other than me. It happened and I hated it. It still stings."

Spencer's heart threatened to fail once again. Your giggles, your words, your confession... His mind completely short-circuited. She loved him. She loved him? She loved him?!?!???!!! That’s what she’d just said, apparently. Okay, calm down. And she’d been jealous. She didn’t like him kissing another woman, because she fucking loved him. Say something, you dumb idiot, his brain shrieked. Say something!

You parted your lips to say something else, but apparently decided against it. Another beat of silence of Spencer staring dumbly at you. "I'm going," you blurted out, standing up.

Spencer, at breakneck speed, stood up as well to stop you from walking away, placing his hands tentatively on your shoulders. Your bodies were now apart by mere inches. "No." His voice was so small and pained that you sat back down.

Despite your apparent willingness, your next words told him about your turmoil. "Why would I stay, Spencer? I've been pouring my heart out to you and you haven't said a thing."

Looking at you, so bare and so vulnerable, Spencer suddenly had flashbacks from when he had lashed out on you earlier and simultaneously fought the feelings that were bubbling inside of him upon your confession. Couldn't you see the sheer shock on his face? Couldn't you see that he was battling against every single bit of self restraint not to pull you into his embrace and make you believe him when he would tell you that you were the only woman for him?

Sure, he had dreamed of you saying those words to him countless times as time went by and you two got closer. Shit, he literally dreamed of it. Of you. Speaking sweet nothings to him... He broke out of his daze, realizing that he was deadly silent, "Don't go..."

"Then say something. I'm here. Not as Hotch's daughter, not as your coworker, not as a part of the team you work with. I'm here as the woman in whose heart you've grown over the last few months. I'm terrified of your answer and you keep depriving me of it." There was a hint of annoyance and hurry on your voice, and he could understand you, he truly could. He just didn't... he lost his voice when he looked at you.

Saying your name softly, he beginned, “I said stupid, untrue things, and I’m sorry. I’m a jerk, and I know that I’m a jerk and—" You quirked your eyebrow and he took a deep breath, trying to cut his rant. "Just... don't sit there and think that I have nothing to say."

"Have you said it?" You pressed it, quirking an eyebrow.

"No." He admitted, widening his eyes a bit as he realized his mistake.

At the same time, you shot, "Not saying something is also an answer for me—"

"—but not for the reasons you're thinking! Do you know how hard it is for me right now?" Spencer was starting to sound very desperate and pathetic, not to mention the fact that he wasn't answering your questions.

Deep breaths (from both ends).

"Look, Reid..." He glared at you upon hearing his last name. "I think I should go home. You and I clearly need some space—"

"What we need to do is talk."

You sighed. "Then why won't you give me an answer?"

Silence.

"You won't even remember this in the morning."

At that, you deemed yourself utterly defeated. This was useless. "I'm sorry I came over. I'm... I'll just go, okay? Please, don't be upset about tonight. I apologize in advance."

The sight of her, once more shying away from him and turning to escape from him, was making Spencer frustrated, with himself, to no end. His heart clenched at your apology, to which he shook his head vehemently. The thing is, he wanted to get ready to answer you, properly, just like he always had some trick up his sleeve or some funny or curious fact to blurt during the most random moments. Spencer was good at speaking, but only when the speech was already ingrained into his mind, something he had read or rehearsed before. Plus, he was sure your state of drunkenness would stop you from remembering that moment.

Spencer dashed to his door, barely stopping you. No, no, no, no, no... She can't leave. This might be my only chance. "You're not going anywhere."

"Excuse me?"

"Stay with me. I don't want you to go." He said, softly, slowly, looking straight into your eyes. It made you dizzy. Either that or the alcohol.

"No?"

"Y-you're drunk and I... I don't think it's safe for you to go by yourself and it's late and... and..." he trailed off, nervously, desperate to get you to stay.

"I'm not drunk."

"You're not fooling me. You might be as concise as ever but you're not sober. Stay."

"Promise... promise you won't be upset with me?"

His heart dropped, heavy with guilt. And with love for you. "I promise."

Spencer silently led you back to the couch, gingerly holding your hand. He felt dazzled, speechless, desperate, frustrated, all at once. But your touch was starting to ground him back to reality, where you were real, having confessed your feelings for him, and he was a mess, not even being able to say anything back. Without much thinking, he said, "You should stay over tonight."

"Okay... I'll take the couch."

"As if I'd let you sleep on the couch."

"It's okay."

"Stop... stop acting like I sent you away."

You kept silent. You felt like he did. Through his touch, he hoped to get you to understand that his feelings were a mess, but they existed, and they were real, and they were yours. "That'd be alright with me, you know. Taking your couch. I think I would sleep better on your floor than I would ever in my bed. To... to say that anything is better if you're somehow involved."

His stomach made a flip-flop. Brain short-circuited again. You yawned, as if you had just made an annoying comment on the weather.

"Are you tired?" He managed to mutter.

"I am."

"Come on. Let's get you to bed."

"No."

"What do you mean 'no'? I'm not letting you on the couch. Come on."

"I can't go to your bed with outside clothes." You booped his nose.

He chuckled lowly, confused a little by your words. "Are you seriously worried about clothes?"

"You don't like germs. That's why I removed my shoes."

Okay, he thought, if I manage to put her to sleep without having a heart attack, I definitely don't need a cardiologist's appointment because it would mean I'm that strong.

"Y-you... remembered?" Damn it, Reid. Stop stuttering.

You sighed, tiredly, and rested your head on his shoulder, looking down at his hand holding yours. "I remember everything about you."

"You do?"

"Yes. Fortunately or unfortunately."

Spencer was too stunned to speak. Too stunned, too dumb, too afraid. Damn it. Damn it. He couldn't stop cursing internally. He forced himself to pull you towards his bedroom and even though he still sensed some uncertainty, he kept going. Reaching for a pair of sweatpants and a big t-shirt, he gave those to you. "You can change into these," as he left the room to make you more comfortable.

"Wait!" You almost shrieked.

"What happened?" He prompted, worriedly, reaching a hand out to touch your arm.

"I don't want you to go."

He bit back a sigh. "I'll be just outside."

"Just... stay here?"

"I can't—" he interrupted himself, just turning around so his back was to you instead. At that, he looked up at his ceiling and prayed to any deity to let him survive that night.

He could hear the sounds of your movements. The zipper being undone, the soft ruffling of the fabric as you tugged your shirt up your head... He was imagining your exposed skin, every perfect inch, how would you look without all those clothes that suited you so nicely, how would it be to touch you, to run his fingertips all over your heated skin, how would it be to kiss every freckle on your body, to—"Done."

Turning around, the sight was adorable, which made him somewhat guilty of his early impure thoughts. "I feel like Alice when she shrunk into a tiny human."

He couldn't fight the smile at your words. He led you to his bed, where you laid on your back on top of the covers, staring at the ceiling. Spencer left you briefly to get you a glass of water and some painkillers to leave by the bedside table. You thanked him with a silent glance. As he turned to leave, once again, you said in a small voice, almost phrasing it like a question, too afraid of the answer. "Stay."

"I'll take the couch."

"You asked me to stay, thrice, I guess… And I did. I asked you once and you did. I still have a few requests left. I'm keeping tabs."

He relented, laying next to you and placing a pillow between you two. You breathed out a chuckle and he shook his head, clearly knowing where your mind had gone to. He placed his hand on top of the pillow, offering his comfort, and then you tentatively placed yours on top of his. He grinned to himself.

It was hard for him to wrap his head around what had happened that night. He knew his words — or lack of — could be read the wrong way and you possibly did, but he also hoped that his actions were speaking louder. Just as he was getting lost in thought again, he heard your voice once more.

"Spence?"

That damned nickname.

"Thanks for, um, being so respectful. Not that I don't think you'd be. But, um, as you've said, I'm drunk. And I told you I love you. And you're simply holding my hand." He gulped. He was keeping count, too, of how many times you said you loved him. Twice, so far, but he wanted so much more, endlessly. He wanted to lose track. "I guess... that makes me love you even more," you finished, crushing his heart between your palms, voice thick with sleep.

When he finally turned his head to look at you, your eyes were closed and you looked peaceful, drifting off to sleep. Then, when he was sure you were actually asleep, he stood up from his bed, grabbing a pillow and a spare blanket to lay on the floor.

"I'll gladly sleep on my floor if it means I get to have you around, too..."

—

Spencer didn't get any sleep.

He tossed and turned on the floor all night long, both because his carpet was not the most comfortable spot to sleep on, but also and mostly because there was no way in hell his mind stopped working. All through the night, Spencer fought the urge to shake you awake to ask if this was real, if you really loved him, if the words that slipped through your lips were in fact your feelings towards him. Despite his curiosity and eagerness, he let you sleep, figuring that he had already put you through too much already. As you slept, a movie played on his mind: your moments together, your confession of love, and overthinking the words we are not something. We are not a thing. He feared that you would wake up and realize how badly he had screwed up and decide not to want him anymore. Yes, he was that anxious.

You, on the other hand, even though confused by his lack of answer to your heart’s words, felt lighter than ever by speaking out your truth (the booze did help you a lot, though). Being as analytical as you were had its perks. One of them is that you never let yourself suffer too much for too long, too attached to reality to care much about the rest. So what if he rejected you? Life goes on — and that’s what you thought with every other loser that you caught yourself thinking too much of. Spencer, though… Who were you kidding? Spencer was Spencer. And that meant the world… It wasn’t so bad, if he actually rejected you… you’d only have to face him every day, until the rest of your lives, doomed to work together, cursed to think and rethink all over again small, fleeting moments such as an exchange of longing glances.

(You felt strangely calm due to your touch with reality. Maybe, just maybe, you were hoping for the best based on his care with and for you. But boy, were you ready to give him a piece of your mind.)

As your eyes fluttered open, you stretched your limbs on an unfamiliar bed with too much space. Upon your confusion, the memories came back with full force. You jolted, sitting down, searching for him — and, to be honest, not wanting to find him. The house was deadly silent, so you tried to trick yourself that you were sure he wasn't there. You dashed to the bathroom, taking a quick shower to get rid of the shame and the faint reek of alcohol. As you moved around his stuff, you couldn't help but think that you were so familiar with his things that it was almost like you belonged there. Sigh. It turns out that hiding emotions is easier than feeling them, especially their extremes.

As soon as you finished putting on your own clothes, you stopped dead in your tracks as you heard footsteps outside the bedroom. You froze, not knowing what to say. Or do.

Spencer entered the room, holding a tray meticulously organized with some food on it. “Morning. I, um, made you breakfast.” Because of course he would make you fucking breakfast. 

“Morning,” you replied awkwardly and hoarsely. Maybe you cried a little bit, who knows… “Thanks, you didn't have to.”

“I did.”

You take your time to get a good look at him. He had bags under his eyes that appeared to be tired. The sight made your heart drop. “I'm sorry…”

“Don't be.”

“But I was wrong.”

“So was I.”

“But—”

“Last night you said some things. Do you, uh, do you remember what you told me?” You nodded, unable to speak. “Do you remember what you told me?” He repeated, trying to get a verbal answer from you.

“Yes, Spencer. I remember.”

“Can you listen to what I have to say now?”

You nodded, weakly.

“I didn't say anything because… because everything had gone in the most opposite direction they could've gone.” He said, approaching you calmly. “I was up the entire night, hoping to find the right words to tell you that would make you believe me after I… was stupid. I… First, I'm sorry I made you feel that way. I know you said that we're nothing, that we weren't something, that we didn't have anything… but… but you're everything to me.” At that, your eyes finally met his. The intensity of your gaze made him shudder, but he kept going. “All the time we've spent together was nothing compared to what I want to have with you… and… and… God! Do you have any idea of the torture I was put through with you? Constantly thinking of what we could be, what we should be, too scared of your reaction or that—that—that Hotch decided to chop off my neck because he found out that I was crushing on his only daughter!”

At the mention of your dad, you burst out laughing. Seriously? That was such a cliché! “Hey! I'm serious!”

“I'm sorry…” You bit your bottom lip, fighting the urge to laugh at him some more. He was adorable.

“As I was saying,” he continued, trying to sound annoyed, but a hint of a smile threatened to break on his lips, and he didn't pull away when you approached him nor he did when you wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your chin on his chest, looking up at him, adoringly. He looked down, meeting your gaze,  “I… I love you. I love you too. God, it just feels so good to say that!”

You giggled, again. God, he could never get used to that sound.

“And I’m sorry for being so mean to you when I was frustrated. I should have been more patient and my unthoughtful words hurt you.” You kept silent, remembering his words. “I—I’ll spend the rest of my life apologizing if you’ll have me.” He added, intimidated by your gaze.

Silence. “Well, I accept your apologies. I was unfair to you as well. And you know where I stand when it comes to you. My feelings, I mean.”

“I do… But…”

“But?”

“I'd like to hear you say it.”

“Say what?”

“That you love me?”

“I don't know. Do I, really?” You joked.

He blushed furiously, ready to stutter himself out of that situation. “No, I mean… you—you said that—that you remembered what you said last night and… so… putting two and two…”

Another giggle interrupted him. You traced his jawline, leaning up to kiss his right cheek. “I really, really love you.” A kiss to his left cheek. He chuckled. “I love you.” A kiss on the tip of his nose, to which he snorted, totally lovestruck. “So much.” A lingering, tender kiss to his forehead. He closed his eyes, already anticipating the next spot you would press your soft lips to.

As you made your way to finally kiss his lips, you decided to tease him and let him wait for a bit longer. Spencer groaned in protest and you chuckled a bit, finally deciding that it was enough. Pressing your lips to the corner of his mouth, making him sigh, you were thrilling on making him more and more eager. His grip on you tightened just slightly as he let out a shaky breath. You wanted to laugh, but instead, you poked fun at him. “Now you know what it's like to be teased.”

“I love you. Oh, Jesus… You're driving me insane. You're here… And you, you're you…”

You grinned, looking up at him, finally, finally pressing your lips to his. As you let out a small sigh, his breath hitched, both of you utterly drowning in relief and satisfaction. You pulled back a bit, grinning, going back to kissing him. Spencer's hands found your jawline, sliding back to tangle in your hair as he sucked your bottom lip into his mouth. Parting your lips slightly, you granted him full access to kiss you properly, and he moaned at the taste of you, gripping your hair rougher than before. You groaned softly, and he proudly heard and swallowed all your small sounds.

The ring of a phone broke the urgent atmosphere that was building between you two. Spencer ignored it, letting it ring until you pulled away, gasping for air. As you did, the noise stopped and you met his lost eyes, totally dumbstruck, and you laughed because you probably looked the same way. He gave you a charming, lopsided grin, too stupid, too hypnotized to say anything.

The phone began ringing again. “Son of a…!” he cursed, picking up the phone. “Hi, this is Dr. Spencer Reid and unless this is an absolute emergency, I'm kinda busy—”

“Reid.” Aaron Hotchner's firm voice hit Spencer like a bucket of cold water. Widening his eyes, he gulped.

“Yes… sir?” You smiled at that. Of course you knew who he was talking to.

“We have a new case.” Hotch announced.

“Oh… okay… I, um, I—I'll be there in 20.”

Silence.

“Is everything okay, Reid?” Hotchner could read anyone, Spencer was now sure of that. Even through the goddamned phone.

“Wh—yeah, yeah… Everything's… totally f—fine.” He cursed under his breath as you gripped his vest, trying not to laugh.

“Do you know where she is?” Hotch inquired after another moment of quietness. 

“Who?” He squeaked. You chuckled silently.

“My daughter.” Of course it was his daughter.

Playing dumb is not a good look on you, you mouthed.

“N—no… I haven't… heard from her.”

“Sure.” Hotch said, skeptically. Spencer could feel the sweat on his forehead. After a moment, your father finished the call with an unreadable “We need to talk.”

Once the phone call ended, you burst out laughing at Spencer's reaction. “Not funny.” He protested, a frown on his face and a soft smile betraying his faux frustration.

“Come on, it is funny.”

He glared at you. “What do you think he wants to talk about?”

“I don't know. Men talk. I wouldn't want to get involved.” You said, grinning, pulling him by his vest.

He squeezed his eyes shut, relishing in the feeling of having you so close. “Do you think he knows?”

“Of course he knows.”

“How are you so collected?”

“Because I'm not the one he's going to scare to death, apparently.”

“He said ‘we’ need to talk. Emphasizing ‘we’. If he knows you’re here, then it probably—” you cut him off with a kiss.

“Well, then… Are you ready to face your biggest fear? The frightening Aaron Hotchner?”

Glancing at you adoringly, he chuckled. “I’d face him and whoever, whatever, a thousand times, if it meant that I could get you in the end.”

—

A couple days after the case, you and Spencer meet again, in your apartment. Sitting down on the couch, you ask him, amusedly, “Do you think he noticed?” 

“Totally. I could barely look him in the eye for the first moments,” He said with a fond smile, hiding from you the fact that he had awkwardly and bravely spoken to your dad about your relationship. You laughed, placing your legs on the top of his legs. “I guess we should thank Lila, after all.” He joked, and you laughed out loud. 

Leaning him closer to him, grabbing his chin and looking deep into his eyes, you muttered, “Don’t ever say her name again, Spence.”

Your wish was always his command. It would always be.

divider by @cafekitsune <3

bonus

[logansdoll]

jim beam

navigating life in a new universe was already a bit of a struggle for Logan... and Wade just had to make it worse (or far, far, far better) by giving him a "house-warming gift".

CW: suggestive, profanity, takes place after the events of Deadpool 3, Wade is actually really hard to write for, Logan deserves the world, comfort, angst if you squint, etc.

"Honey, I'm home!" Wade loudly sang, kicking open the door to Logan's apartment with a dramatic flourish.

"Fuck me," Logan groaned from his spot on the couch, closing his eyes and allowing his head to lull back with annoyance.

This defeated the entire purpose of why he got his own apartment in the first place.

To avoid these types of interactions with the most persistently, consistently annoying asshole in the entire multiverse.

"Now, now, is that any way to talk to the friend who's about to bring your long lost lover back from the dead?" Wade tutted, skipping into the living room, taking notice of the bottle of liquor resting in Logan's hand.

'So it's that kinda morning...'

"Jim Beam at 10 am on a Tuesday?" he noted, "Well, I guess it's five o'clock nowhere... so have at it."

"What did you just say?" Logan sat up straight, brows furrowed as he focused on Wade's previous statement.

"Alcoholics everywhere salute you for taking your liver where no organ has gone before."

"Wade."

"I'm honestly starting to believe you do it for the love of the game rather than the expositional, look how sad he is plot device the author is currently using... I mean, seriously? Can we skip past all this bullshit and get to the—"

Quickly, Logan grabbed him by the front of his suit, yanking him closer with an angrily confused expression.

"If anything besides a goddamn answer comes out of your mouth... I will stab you in the face," he growled, spelling out each syllable to further his point. "What the hell do you mean bring her back from the dead?"

To Logan, you were everything

The sun. The moon. The air. The clouds.

Despite seeing all the horrible thing he'd done, and knowing firsthand just how much of an asshole he could be, you still smiled at him.

No matter how many times he pushed you away, you were relentless.

Keeping his room together while he was away finding himself.

Making him meals when you noticed he he'd gone without eating.

Forcing him to take breathers after intense sessions in the Danger Room.

For the longest, he couldn't wrap his head around someone like you caring about a jackass like him.

Until he got fed up and just outright asked.

But, as if nothing, you answered:

"Your past makes think you don't deserve love, Logan," you started, crossing your arms over your chest as you leaned up against the counter. "You storm around here with a rude ass attitude and a smart mouth hoping to convince me of that... but if anything, you're only making it worse for yourself."

You smiled, looking up at him with a glint in your eye that sent shocks running down his spine.

"Because in my heart of hearts I know you're a man who wants care and attention, just like everybody else."

With a chuckle, you rested a hand on his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"And I'll keep shovin' dinners down your throat until you realize that."

Despite having everyone else fooled, you saw right through him, and true to your word, you didn't give up.

With every made bed, every meal, every conversation, Logan felt himself falling deeper into your charm, and over a glass of Jim Beam did he finally realize that he was in love with you.

But, like everything else he cared about in this world, you were taken away from him.

Unable to find your body in the rubble of the mansion, he looked high and low, quite literally going to the ends of the Earth to find you.

But after years of searching with nothing to show for it, he returned to the bottle, drowning himself in sorrow and regret.

Or, at least... until now.

"Well, according to the manual, she's not exactly dead, but she is unconscious," Wade answered, matter-of-factly.

"Unconscious?" Logan's brows furrowed, still quite confused.

Freeing himself from the man's grip, Wade stood up, going back around the couch and pulling out a small tablet from his pocket.

"See, I've noticed your humble abode could use a little sprucing, so I went back to our buddies at the TVA and kindly reminded them that you saved the multiverse and, godammnit, you deserve a reward."

"Get to the fuckin' point, jackass," Logan spat, turning to face him.

"So they sent some men back to your universe and found your girl!" Wade cheered, opening up a portal and reaching his hand in, pulling out a cryo-chamber with you inside.

The moment Logan's eyes met your sleeping face, all color and vibrancy seemed to return to the world.

He was at a loss for words.

You were here... not some dream or hallucination of guilt... but actually, truly, physically here.

"Apparently, some science fuckers were keeping her in a black site and testing to see how long she could go without aging. I won't bore you with the details," Wade explained, pulling out a small knife from his boot. "Now, let's break this bad boy open and meet the future Mrs. Wolverine!"

Before Logan could stop him, Wade stabbed the keypad at the side of the chamber, opening the door and sending you falling forward.

In an instant, Logan dropped his bottle and leaped over the couch, catching you just before you could face-plant on the hardwood floor.

"Watch it!" Logan roared, less than happy that you'd only been there for about three minutes and Wade had already almost broken your nose.

"I am so sorry!" Wade gasped, his hands slapping his cheeks in shock. "I didn't think she'd actually fall out the chamber when they told me she'd fall out the chamber... Nice save, though, Romeo."

Turning you over, Logan cupped your cheek, the chill of your skin already beginning to warm.

But you were still out cold, limp in his grasp as he held you close to his chest.

"She's not waking up..." Logan noticed, brows furrowed. "Why the hell isn't she waking up?"

"Easy there, tiger. They told me how long it takes varies from person to person," Wade assured, shutting the portal. "Some take minutes, others hours. It could be a couple of days before she even opens her eyes."

An expression of solemnity slid over Logan's face as he gazed over yours, your skin still so flesh colored, it looked as if you were sleeping.

Just as soft and tender as he remembered.

And he had full intentions on keeping it that way.

Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, he ghosted his hand over your cheek.

In that moment, he swore to himself that he'd never leave you again.

He'd be a friend, a bodyguard, a lover, whatever you wanted, but no matter his title, anything that wanted to harm you would have to do so over his dead body.

And even then he'd force himself to get back up and fight.

This world was giving him a second chance at life, a second chance at a life with you, and he'd be damned if he let anything ruin it.

Suddenly, you took in an aggressive gasp, scaring the shit out of Wade as your eyes snapped open.

"Holy fucking shit nuggets!" he jolted, jumping from his spot across he room as Logan allowed his shoulders to sink, mumbling a quiet thanks to whatever god or deity brought you back to him.

Feeling a strong set of arms cradling you, you looked up, solace setting into your bones at the sight of the familiar man before you, who was unable to stop the few joyful tears escaping his eyes.

"Logan—"

Without a moment's hesitation, his lips were on yours, making up for what felt like a lifetime of loss by dumping all of his passion, all of his love, all of his devotion into one Earth shattering kiss.

You melted into it seamlessly, your hand finding home in his scruffy hair as he pulled you flush against him, clutching you with a death grip.

Donning a cheeky smile under his mask, Wade turned away to give you both a moment, thought not without making a crude sex gesture behind his back.

'I don't think Miss (Y/N)/Girl Sitting At Home Reading This is gonna be able to walk tomorrow...'

With a gasp, the two of you separated, Logan's hand raising to cup your cheek, relishing how easily you leaned into him.

"(y/n)... I thought I lost you," he panted, his eyes scouring over your face, committing every detail to memory.

"For a while, you did," you sighed with a grin, carding a hand through the few gray strands in his hair, before comparing them to your own. "Time looks good on you."

He chuckled, quietly relieved you still found him attractive after all these years.

Sitting up, you wrapped your arms around him and pulled the man into a bone crushing hug, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck.

"I'm not really sure what happened... or how I'm alive..." you weakly laughed, starting to get choked up. "But I know that if you go out drinking without me ever again, I'm putting your head on a spike."

Instantly, Logan's arms wrapped around your waist, holding you reverently as if he let go for one moment, the powers that be would part him from you.

"I swear on my life... I'll never let anyone hurt you again."

[floraisunwell]

Promise | s.r

who? post-prison!reid x ex gf reader (she's a nurse)

category: angst (bold move ig)

summary: Spencer left you 5 months ago without a word for undisclosed reasons but he comes teary eyed to your door after seeing a girl that looks a little too much like you.

based on (very loosely lol): promise by laufey. the fic does not follow the events of the song at all but i love the "if it weren't for the sight of a boy who looked just like you standing out on Melrose avenue" part right at the end so it's all on that line.

word count: 1.6k

a/n: my first fic ahhhhhhh, i'm so nervous and happy rn, this is my baby and ik there's a lot of space for improvement but i'm proud of my writing, this comunnity is full of amazing people and if it wasn't such a lovely space i would have never posted this. shoutout to @lilacsandlavenderhaze for being the first to hear my idea and telling me i should go ahead and write it; @spencersbabymama for telling me to cut the bullshit and self deprecation and post this; and to @esote-rika for being my first readerrrr. love y'all <3

dividers by @aquazero

English is not my first language pls tell me about any spelling and grammatical mistakes. enjoyy!

The air was cold and crisp, a light drizzle could be felt dampening the streets – a scene typical for this time of the year in Washington. Spencer had gone out with the team to get some drinks after a hard but successful case, he was happy, of course, the fact that they had caught the killer pleased him but everything inside the building felt overwhelming: the voices, and the drunk conversations, all the limbs touching a little too much, the overly loud music. He was out of it and to be honest he had been out of it for quite some time now, actually some months, everyone noticed how the breakup made him feel.

Funny, because he was the one to leave.

After you came back from a long shift at the hospital excited to cuddle with the love of your life (or so you thought) but the only remnant of him you found was a sticky note placed on the cover of a book you were reading at the time:

"I'm sorry, I can't do this anymore"

That was all he said before destroying everything you two had built over 3 years, 3 years of love, pain, and learning, 3 years of giving everything for each other, destroyed in less than 24 hours like nothing.

He hadn't been the same for a long time, though—not since prison. You didn't blame him; you tried to understand him, give him space, time, and everything one could need to heal. He was not the same, of course. You weren't expecting the same Spencer to come back, sure, but you also were not expecting whoever he had become: some cold and distant version of the person you used to know.

Your relationship with Spencer is divided into two eras: Before Millburn and After Millburn.

Before Millburn, you guys were somewhat happy. Both of you were overworked and stressed but happy. You would tell him about your work, and he would tell you about his. In the rare times, he got a day off work, he would hug you whenever he could, like he was making sure you wouldn't slip away.

After Millburn, you didn't talk much, not unless it was necessary, he didn't hug you a lot anymore, in fact, the last time he hugged you was when you went to pick him up at the correctional facility, all the emotions running high, you remember thinking he looked and smelled different, you didn't know he would be so different when you wrapped him in your arms, placed a kiss on his shoulder and whispered that everything would be fine. But everything was not fine. It was all so not fine and everyone around you two could tell. Yet you could have never imagined that Spencer, the man who made the hopeless romantic in you thrive would leave in such a disheartening way.

Back at O’Keeffe’s, the team was still at it. The count of how many rounds of drinks Rossi had paid long lost, Emily and JJ leaning suspiciously close to each other, Rossi nursing some unnecessarily extravagant drink, Garcia and Morgan somewhere on the dance floor and Hotch nowhere to be seen. Spencer had gone outside, hoping the sensory overload would ease with the fresh air, it did slightly but the agglomerate of people was no better than the one inside, so many people, reeking of alcohol, walking like zombies, and saying nonsensical things. As he was standing near the entrance, hands stuffed into his pockets, the soft rain dampening his hair, Spencer let his mind wander and it ended up where it always does: him contemplating if leaving was the right decision.

He was so deep in this thought that didn't even notice the man approaching until it happened- a hard shoulder bump that took him away from his thoughts.

"Sorry dude" the man muttered not even caring to glance back as he moved past. Spencer blinked, shocked as he watched the man move swiftly toward a small group of people nearby. A group that included you.

His heart jumped to his mouth. No - not you. But she looked like you, uncannily so. She even acted like you, the way she threw her back when she laughed or how she scrunched her nose in an attempt to put her sliding glasses in place - he could've sworn it was you.

For a fraction of a minute, he actually thought it was you. His breath caught in his throat and he took a step forward before reality sank in and he retreated. It wasn't you; it was never you.

But as he watched her wrapping her arms around the man's neck, as his hands almost automatically moved to her waist, and they both smiled like idiots in love. He couldn't help but feel like he had been stabbed and the knife was being twisted inside him. Was this some type of fucked up joke by the universe? "This could be you, bad thing you lost her" The thing is, he didn't lose you- he gave up on you which was worse because maybe if he had stayed, and tried a little harder, you would still be together.

He staggered back a few steps, and if he hadn't reached the wall, he would've fallen considering he already felt his knees buckle as all the bottled-up emotions from the past five months came crashing onto him; he was overwhelmed by his own feelings, eyes blurry with tears as a lump formed in his throat and the weight on his chest got heavier.

Blindly, almost unconsciously, he reached for his phone in the inside pocket of his jacket. His thumb hovered above your name in the contacts list. The message he typed was brief:

"Are you home?"

He didn't get a reply, he wasn't waiting for one. The moment he hit send his legs were already moving, practically running towards the street to hail a cab. He gave the driver your address, and it came out of his mouth easily, as if he had never stopped saying it.

You were in the shower when his message came through, you didn't pay the loud notification much attention, not even caring to glance at the device when you heard the familiar ding. You prioritized the small occasions you got to take care of yourself when your job is to take care of others.

Now freshly showered and in the kitchen making tea- the next step on your little routine- you hear a knock on the door, a distinct knock, a knock you could never forget, not even a billion years from now. Your heart stopped for a moment, heartbeat pounding in your ears, you didn't quite register you were moving towards the door until it was open and he was standing there, his brown eyes open wide once he registered your presence, reacting as though you opening the door was the last thing he expected. You just stood there for a few seconds, staring at each other until Spencer wrapped you in his arms like he used to, his nostrils flooding with the smell of your shampoo and body wash, smells he recognized all too well, smells that felt like home.

You pushed him away, shattering the brief feeling of happiness he had started to feel.

"What are you doing here?" You asked almost a little too loud in an attempt to hide the hurt in your voice

"I miss you" he replied eyes searching for yours.

You stood there, arms folded, trying to hide how weak those words made you feel. He had no right to miss you, not after leaving the way he did.

Why should I care? You thought to yourself. He made it clear that he didn’t care about you, but you cared, you cared so deeply that it made your heart ache.

You were not going to let him in.

"You can't just stop talking to me and then come here like nothing happened, Spence." You couldn't help using the nickname, your voice falsely steady, trying to hide the pain.

"I know, I just-can I come in?" No reply "Please"

You hesitated, gripping the door handle tighter as a tornado of emotions swirled on your chest. Anger. Hurt. Loneliness. You wanted to slam the door in his face, make him feel a small fraction of what you felt over the past 5 months. But buried beneath all these harsh feelings, there was something softer, something you felt ashamed to acknowledge: the echo of all the nights you stayed up worrying about him and what could happen in his work, all the mornings you woke up without the smell of coffee lingering through the apartment.

You let him in.

You tried to convince yourself that letting him in was about answers- you deserved an explanation, some sort of closure at least. But as you stepped aside and watched him walk past you knew that wasn’t the whole truth.

Because no matter how much he’d hurt you, part of you still longed for the man he used to be.

“This doesn’t change anything.” You muttered, as much to yourself as to him. He gave a slight nod in reply, eyes watering. Damn him and his big brown eyes.

 As you were turning around after closing the door behind you, he captured you in a hug again and you couldn't help but wrap your arms around him too.

★

Somehow, he ended up asleep in your bed and as you gaze at his peaceful resting face, your mind tells you to wake him up, tell him to go home and never come back, tell him that he doesn't get to leave and reappear whenever it suits him, tell him that he can fuck off for breaking your heart like that. Yet, you don't do any of that, because your heart tells you not to.

tysm for reading, likes and reblogs are always deeply appreciated

@angellic4l it's finally here bestieee!

[enhaheeseung]

BREAK UP - L. HEESEUNG

Pairing: heeseung X fem reader

Warnings: crying, break up, angst, cursing, heartbreak, arguments.

Word count: 2,072k

Note: I'm just writing a few drabbles for now, hoping to get my engagement up a bit. This is really rushed, so it’s not good, but oh well.

Part 2 Part 3

-

“Babe, when are you coming to bed?”

It’s twelve am, and you have been waiting hours past your bedtime so you can finally go to sleep with your boyfriend for the first time in literal months.

It’s been a while since he started working from home, and you thought that would free up some space for you both to spend time together.

You thought you guys could go back to normal like how you used to be but now it seemed like he worked even more after being able to work from home on top of his promotion.

You received no answer, and you sighed. This had been going on for months, him ignoring you and solely focusing on work. You disappointedly slipped under the covers so you could patiently wait for him to be finished.

Staring at the clock, you counted down every minute until a full thirty minutes passed.

You decided to give it another go thinking half hour may have been enough time for him to conclude his work. “Honey, it’s so late,” your voice is groggy, eyes half opened, and you’re still worried about your boyfriend’s well-being. How could you not be when he barely ate and barely slept anymore? The last time you two spent quality time together was so long ago you couldn’t even remember. “Please come to bed. I know you’re tired.”

He snaps at your words, only increasing the annoyance that he currently feels. “Can you just stop talking, damn?!” He agitatedly shouts out of nowhere, turning his head in your direction with an angry expression plastered on his tired features.

Startled by the sudden loudness of his tone you jumped a little bit not used to him speaking to you that way. “S-sorry I was just worried” you tucked back under the covers your heart aching in your chest cause of what he said to you.

He was always on edge lately, but you never received that type of treatment from him. Ever even in your five years of dating, he has always been respectful to you.

“You’re sorry?” he scoffs. “You should be sorry I’m the one working hard every day to provide for you and all the frivolous bullshit you buy, and this is the thanks I get. Do me a favor and stop fucking bothering me while I’m working,” he rubs his temples, turning his attention back to his computer.

It most certainly wasn’t the first time he’d said such harsh words to you after your constant nagging for him to eat and sleep more, but this was the first time you felt pure anger from him, and it worried you cause he was never this bad before and you feared that as time went on like this it would just get worse.

“O-okay.” You looked at his stressed back, noticing how tense his shoulders were, and you felt bad knowing he was taking on all of the work to provide for you both. Apparently, all you were doing was bothering him, but you weren’t doing it intentionally. “I guess it’s a crime to care about my boyfriend.” Your voice broke a little, and you turned your back to him, calling it quits for the night. He could come to bed whenever he wanted.

“You know what?” He shuts the computer and sighs. “I think.” he pauses for a moment, the silence getting the best of your nerves cause you were scared about what he was going to say. “We should just break up.”

His words dangle in the air for minutes, and within those minutes, you feel tears pricking your eyes and your heart breaking into little tiny bits. “Hee-“ you sat up now, looking at him with your bloodshot eyes.

“I know you’re going to run down every reason why we shouldn’t, but I’m done. I’m tired of this, and I’m tired of talking. I can’t do it anymore, and nothing you say can ever change my mind.”

You’re left absolutely speechless too stunned to even say anything not to say he would want to hear it or listen now anyway.

You’ve spent so many long years of your life with him that you couldn’t see yourself being with anyone else besides him you thought that he was your happy ever after and to hear him say he wants to break up felt like a dream a very bad dream never in your life did you ever think he’d say the words but he did and it came out so easily like he’s been wanting to say it but only now decided to.

And the thought made you upset because if he’s been feeling this way for this long why did he even bother to string you along knowing he didn’t see a future with you anymore after your guys relationship went downhill?

In the midst of your thoughts his voice brings you back to the present. “I’ll call your mom in the morning so you can get all your stuff and be out by tomorrow.” You don’t respond, and the only thing you hear for the next few hours is typing on a keyboard.

You would go to the sofa, but you’re literally glued to the bed, paralyzed by grief.

The tears wouldn’t stop flowing, and they definitely didn’t stop once he came to bed. If anything, they got worse when you felt his warmth so close to you but yet so far away.

He tried slipping his hand around your waist, but you slapped it away. “Don’t touch me,” you say through your heartbroken cries.

He immediately retracted his hand, a little surprised at first by how quickly you rejected his touch.

He didn’t care really he just thought it might comfort you a little so you could sleep since you’ve been up crying for literally hours but it didn’t matter one way or the other to him as he turned on his side and shut his lamp off.

Heeseung slept soundly while you lay awake, crying every last tear you had left in you.

-

When morning struck, heeseungs alarm woke him up. His eyes shot open, and he quickly grabbed his phone, turning the awful sound off.

He turned towards your side of the bed and patted the soft material in search of your warmth, but he found none.

His eyes opened, and he was met with a few luggage bags that looked to be packed already. He sat up confused for a moment until memories of last night flooded his mind.

He heard a rustle coming from the closet, and you appeared a second later, already fully dressed this early in the morning. Usually, you would still be asleep when he started work.

But obviously, today was different.

His eyes shifted throughout the room. Most of your stuff was already gone.

As you walked to each end of the room collecting your stuff, his eyes followed you, watching your every movement.

The moment he saw you grabbing all your ornaments, he felt an ache in his chest.

You didn’t have much in the bedroom, but those little ornaments had you written all over them, and it was one of the few things that made it obvious to him that he wasn’t living alone, and seeing them all getting wiped out made him feel sick to his stomach. “Y/n?” He mumbled out while nervously picking at his nails.

You didn’t answer. Of course, you didn’t. He said he was done talking, and so were you. Last night, you came to terms with this. It took hours, but you just accepted it.

You had to.

Were you going to miss him?

Yes.

Was it going to hurt?

Yes.

But you didn’t want to be in his life if he didn’t want you to be in his.

You continued to pick up the little porcelain cat decorations, and that’s when he decided to slip out from under the covers and walk over to you, standing behind you and taking the figurine from your hand, setting it back down where it had been sitting for the last couple of years. “I’m sorry,” he whispered in your ear while back hugging you, the warmth of his bare chest sending electricity throughout your body. “About last night, sweetheart, I was just tired and said a lot of things I didn’t mean, and I know that it sounds like a shitty excuse, but I really didn’t mean it, baby. I’ve just been so stressed lately, and I hate myself for taking it out on you. I’m so sorry I made you cry.” he closed his eyes, inhaling your scent, the one he’d been missing for months.

You hated yourself for the way you melted into his arms after all the things he said to you last night, but it’s just been so long since you felt his touch on you that you couldn’t help it.

You leaned into him, his body pressing flush against yours. It felt so good being in his strong arms again.

But as fast as you melted, you hardened up even quicker, slipping out of his grasp.

You started packing up your things again, keeping a good distance from him because right now you know you could easily forgive him, but you didn’t want to because there’s no way he could say what he said to you last night and change up so quickly in the morning you weren’t falling for it.

When you walked by him, he quickly extended his hand, grabbing you by your elbow, pulling you into his chest, and hugging you closely. “Little one, please forgive me.” he rested his chin atop your head, stroking your back softly. “I need you. Love, without you, I don’t have anything, you know that. Remember, I’ve told you so many times everything I do is all for you. I know I made a mistake, but I’m sorry. Please forgive me, please?” His voice shook slightly, and you could feel just how fast his heart was beating against your chest and the words were on the tip of your tongue, but for the way you feel right now, you think breaking up would just be for the best.

You two were living different lives, and the compatibility wasn’t aligned anymore. As much as you hated living a life without him, the thought of living a life where he was working and you were being neglected was something you hated even more.

Your breath got caught in your throat the moment his lips pressed against your neck. “Please,” he begged in between each soft kiss he left on your neck. “Say something, please,” he sniffles softly and rests his palms over your stomach.

You peeled his hand off your body, turning around to tell him that you were done straight to his face, but it was so hard cause he looked absolutely distraught. “Heeseung, I’m leaving, and that’s final.”

The sob he let out almost made you break down in tears yourself. He tried to cover it by cupping his mouth, but it was too late. It was one of the most heartbreaking things you’ve ever heard from him, and you had to leave now before you ended up forgiving him.

You quickly grabbed your things, wheeling them to the front door with him close behind you. “I can’t let you go, y/n. I-I love you.” his arms were secured around you again, and you stood there, trying to remain as emotionless as possible until he finally let go of you. “So that’s just it? What am I supposed to do without you, baby?” He asked warm tears running down his cheeks he looked so sad and vulnerable.

“You said you were tired of talking, and at this point, so am I. Goodbye, heeseung. I hope work treats you better than I ever could.” You unlocked the front door and opened it.

“Y/n-“

“Enough!” You shouted at him, losing your patience finally and letting all your months of pent-up anger get the best of you.

He stood there completely stunned by you raising your voice at him, and it left him speechless.

Even though his mouth was parted like he wanted to say something, the words just never made their way out.

The last thing you saw before slamming the door was his sad, tearful expression, but this was what he asked for, and he got it.

-

Thanks for reading likes comments and reblogs are always appreciated sorry for any typos or errors I hope you all have a good day/night♥️

[rootspiral]

Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 9 part 6

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5] ep6 [1][2][3] ep7 [1][2][3][4][5][6] ep8 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9] ep9 [1][2][3][4][5][6])

billy drives to westview again, I guess flying right now feels weird while he's so conflicted about his own witchy nature. and who boarded up agatha's door? were the neighbors afraid some other unspeakable horror was going to jump out of the house?

we get another good view of agatha's grave, with all the purple flowers and mushrooms rio grew for her

agnes' bike and señor scratchy's cage (I hope that fluffer bunny's okay somewhere)

NOT HELPING, AGATHA. did she just run down to the basement so she could do her 'it's britney bitch' face? (she does look like britney here)

sure, sure, you'll get your brooch back and then you'll be on your merry way doing ghostly shit with no regrets whatsoever. it's not like you've been following billy around like a lost puppy or anything

agatha sees billy drawing the circle and is all posture again, a big slice of "I'm cooler than you and you don't scare me little kid" with a side of "ooooh are we doing magic?? I love magic lemme see lemme see!"

she's truly embarrassing

you're the one with a buttload of black candles in your basement agatha who do you think you're mocking

a pentacle, the symbol of our coven surrounding him. wherever you are, a coven there shall be.

oooh book through the heart! we get it, symbolism.

agatha sees the brooch and gives a deep relieved sigh, immediately followed by more bullshit. JUST TELL HIM THAT'S YOUR SON'S BROOCH AND IT'S IMPORTANT, YOU USELESS DISASTER. JUST OPEN UP FOR ONCE.

the spell is vade (not valia) a lucem, relinque terram, noli esse phantasma. go to the light, leave the earth, don't be a ghost (bit on the nose.)

what's wrong agatha, not feeling so confident all of a sudden?

you know the drill by now, she won't go quietly. so she sneers.

ooh we're appealing to his better nature now? after your many 'never apologize for murder' lessons?

idk man, it's almost as if the people you keep pushing away will eventually get tired of your bullshit. it's almost as if billy here, the kid you supposedly care a lot about, just went through a terrible experience and could really need a wise mentor right now - instead of whatever you're doing.

and now we're begging. better make a decision there agatha, you're starting to fade away!

sure, that will help. great plan agatha, masterful gambit, turning into a ghost and losing even more of your agency

there you go. it only took this poor wretch nine episodes, killing three people, scaring away forever the love of her life, thoroughly traumatizing a kid and somehow losing her entire body to express ONE honest, uncensored feeling.

it's the little steps.

heartwarming: local 350 year old experiences for the first time the mortifying ordeal of being known.

another thing billy and agatha have in common is how good they are at reading people. with billy it's a natural talent (comes with being a mind reader) that he's still learning how to use, he can read people but doesn't know how to interpret what he finds yet, hence the whole trials fiasco.

with agatha, he's been trying to reconcile his instincts with facts and logic. on a surface level he shouldn't trust agatha at all, indeed she's the last person anyone should trust. but since he was that kid who liked hanging out at agnes' house, billy guessed something else in agatha, a vulnerability behind all the darkness that he's been (awkwardly) trying to bring to the surface.

why? I think it's for the same reason agatha has been reaching out to him: because they're so similar. billy wants to reconcile agatha's two natures because he wants to do the same for himself. he is the son of the witch who tortured westview, he has all this scary power. there is a darkness in him that he doesn't know how to deal with, but maybe, if agatha is redeemed, there is hope for himself too.

in other words, these two are kindred spirits (spiritual mother/son, mentor/mentee, whatever you want to call it) who recognize each other and instinctively want to stick to together, even though it's a bad, bad idea.

(I cannot believe it took agatha turning into a ghost to finally get a manicure for her nasty witchy nails)

and this is all it took to win billy over, that's how ready and eager he was to believe agatha has a heart! the moment he realizes that of course agatha loved nicholas! of course she's devastated after losing him! he steps back and dries a tear, moved. for the first time he sees agatha's pain and, the good kid he is, he's earnest to give her sympathy and comfort. he's still too young to fully understand what agatha has been trough, but he doesn't need to. he just needs to care and be there for her, and that's enough, that makes all the difference.

the salemites taught agatha that she cannot trust others, that if she shows who she really is people will hate her and hurt her. when nicky died she tried all she could to exorcise that devastating pain, except asking for help. she never allowed someone to give her even the most basic forms of comfort, no hugs, no crying on someone's shoulder, no 'I'm sorry this happened to you'. no 'I'm here for you, if you need anything'. no 'I know it feels like that, but I promise it wasn't your fault.'

agatha set out to mold and raise billy as another version of herself, but what she got instead is a kid who, just like nicky, is simply glad to love her back. yes, people will leave you if you keep pushing them away, but the opposite is also true: if you stick by and make an effort, no matter how many mistakes you make, most people will recognize what you're doing and respond in kind. it sucks that agatha can do that so rarely and with so much difficulty. but it happens sometimes, even to her.

I've talked about how a "coven two" is never sustainable on the long run, how you cannot just have one person be your whole world. humans, social animals we are, simply need a community. but for now it's a start, it's agatha cautiously letting herself be around another person again. and oh god she's going to be such a bad influence on this poor kid. I'm glad *he* has other people in his life, at least.

she's like, faIR WArNiNG

ookay drama llama. these two gays, I swear. already trying to outdrama each other.

she's all proud!! look at her boy paying homage to the dead and expressing his grief like a champ! meanwhile I'm sitting here like guys, guys, you cannot just write their names on the floor and call it a day, have you CHECKED if you have to break the news to their loved ones?! did sharon have children? did alice have friends or a partner that are looking for her right now?!?!!?!?! please make ONE phone call I beg you! is there an ADULTIER ADULT in the room, you CANNOT LEAVE THESE TWO IN CHARGE

and off they go, merrily causing chaos and mayhem. if I had to guess what happens next, agatha is going to love and help and teach that kid while making soooo many mistakes and causing soooo much emotional damage, and also very much try to manipulate him into giving her a new body, because lbr, this asshole didn't get herself close to the one person on earth who can do that by pure accident. all immaturity and ulterior motives aside, agatha is taking baby steps in the right direction and I'm SEATED for it.

AND WE'RE DONE. I cannot believe I got to the end of this?!!?! thank you from the bottom of my black heart to all the peeps who reached out and encouraged me, thank you for all your likes and reblogs and engagement, and special thanks to @idkbroletssee, @yodladi-yodlada, @aquaaquila, @onceuponalegendbg, @vinspiration-book, @sallysetonagathario, @2-the-moon-and-2-saturn, @yourlocalegotisticalqueerishere, @isagrimorie, @jojobobapalooza, @netellie, @nutella-icecream, @talysalankil, @ragnarockz, @misschanandlerbong25, @westviews-nosiest, @liminal-smith, @kendrysaneela, @whogirl42, @witchtwig, @nerdybeachbum299, @bogcrowe, @the-silence-in-between, @farminglesbian, @lazyreinelle @fantasticvoidnerdshoe, @ofutopia, I'm sure I'm forgetting many but I promise I see you all!

Last but not least, big, grateful thanks to @crybabyheathen for always messaging me and forcing me out of my shell and encouraging much needed human interaction 😉. And lots of love to @april-december, don't tell anyone but I look forward to your comments the most, it truly means the world that you appreciate and engage with my posts like you've been doing.

Happy new year, everybody!

[theereina]

Big Mama Pt. 3

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC

Wordcount: +4.7K

Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, teasing, no smut (alluding to sexual situations), heavily dialogue-centered, use of Daddy, Mama, and other pet names (lil' mama, pretty girl, good boy, etc.), fluff, angst, SA (touching, grabbing), mentions of dv & abuse, anxiety, trauma, physical fighting

A/N: I literally haven't written in years. I'm open to critiques. I am a little 🤏🏽 sensitive about my writing. Please, don't be too harsh.🥺 Feel free to bring my attention to any typos. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Also, this work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than here on Tumblr). I do NOT give consent for any form of republishing or rewriting.

Big Mama Pt. 1 => 🦋

Big Mama Pt. 2 => 🦋

“Girl, what the fuck do you mean you haven't called this man back?” my best friend Monica snapped at me. “I just needed to let one off. I was horny and tired of going on pointless ass dates,” I said groaning back at her.

We were walking into a party her on-again-off-again boyfriend, Jordan, was hosting. There were cars everywhere, and people littered the front lawn of the small house. The music was blasting from the backyard, and the noise consumed the quaint neighborhood.

A cloud of smoke spilled from the rear of the house and engulfed the porch and lawn like a dense fog. The combined thickness of the smoke from the barbecue grill and the heat from the ocean of bodies added to the intensity of the sweltering Southern heat. I was beginning to regret my decision to wear all black.

“You need yo’ ass beat. How the fuck do you let a man dick you down like that and let him get away?” Monica asked cutting across the lawn to enter through the side gate. “I just didn't want anything else,” I said shrugging my shoulders and following her closely. She opened the gate so that we could both walk in. “Look, Monnie. I’m not ready to even entertain a man and his bullshit,” I continued as I closed the gate behind us. “You could have at least kept him as a fuck buddy, ‘Vana, like seriously. Come on. Here we are living in a world where women die never even coming close to experiencing what you did, and you just let him disappear. Are you fuckin' crazy, girl?” she turned to grab my hand.

Monica was trying her hardest to pull us through the swarm of people. I grabbed her wrist and pulled her behind me. “Where are we going?” I asked. “Over by the gate. Jordan's waitin’ with his friends,” she said. I used one of my hands to hold her body flush with mine while the other gently pushed people out of the way.

Once we made it to the other side of the backyard, Monnie spotted Jordan. She pulled herself from my grasp and went to talk to him. He looked down at her and smirked. He was crossfaded. I knew what this meant for me. I would have to hear them go at it like animals all night or get a hotel room. Now, I will NEVER be jealous of my girl getting hers. Don't get me wrong. It's just that Monnie sounds like a “palm-colored🖐🏻” pornstar when she moans, and I only watch Ebony for a reason.

“Ah, shit,” I said palming my face. “What?” Monnie asked with her eyes still locked on Jordan. “I know what that face means. Jordan finna turn you every which way but loose!” I laughed out loud. Monnie looked at me and burst into laughter. Jordan pulled his cup to his lips and peeked over the rim at me. “As long as Monnie baby knows,” he said peering back at her. “Oouu, shit. Don't start with me, J!” Monnie said pulling him by his collar. They were chest to chest now.

“Just go in the damn house already!” I said laughing at the two of them. They were like two feral dogs in heat. They couldn't look at each other without lust taking over. This is an everyday thing for them. “Fuck it. Bye. See ya’!” Monnie said grabbing Jordan and pulling him towards the house.

“Nasty dogs,” I said laughing to myself. I stood with my back to the fence and began scanning the party. I couldn't find anyone I knew. I saw a guy who looked slightly familiar, and I assumed he was one of Jordan's friends. I looked him over trying to see if that was the connection. He was standing in a smaller crowd of men.

His head turned slowly, and his eyes caught mine. They were deep-set and a warm dark brown. He turned his body to face me. He was tall and dark-skinned. This man's skin was ebony in every facet of the word — smooth and shiny. He bit his lip and winked at me while running his hands across his low-cut Caesar.

I smiled back at him and waved shyly. He nodded back towards me. He leaned in closer to the group of men saying something that caused them to turn around. I instantly became a little uncomfortable and self-conscious. I hated male attention when they were in groups. It made me feel objectified.

He began to walk towards me with a slow and deliberate gait. His stride was graceful yet steady. His large frame cast a large imposing shadow across the ground. His lean upper body was struggling to hide beneath the thin fabric of his white T-shirt. He appears to be at least 6 feet tall. I've never had a type, but this man was doing something to me.

I pushed my back from the tall wooden fence. “How you doin’?” he said leaning over me. His hands were in his pockets. He pulled his hands out slowly and grabbed mine. “Fine, and you?” I asked looking up at him. “Better,” he said licking his lips. They were plump and pink. My eyes followed the movement of his tongue across his lips. “That's cute, love. I kinda feel like I know you from somewhere,” I said looking away from him. “Nah, I'd remember you fa’ sure,” he said smiling.

He leaned in closer to my ear. His breath was warm against my skin. “You right about that,” I said cocking my head to the side. He leaned up to look me directly in the eyes. “You a cocky sumthin’, ain't you?” he said laughing. “I like that shit,” he continued while smiling at me. “Cocky? Me?! Never, baby. I'm just a professional shit-talker. That's all,” I said laughing into his chest. “A professional shit talker? So, you enjoy talking shit, huh? What comes with that?” he asked shifting his weight to gently push me back against the fence.

I paused for a second. I pulled my bottom lip in, biting it lightly. “Fuck around and find out,” I said barely above a whisper. I made sure I was looking him directly in his eyes before I spoke. “Oouu, you… Lord, woman!” he laughed out loud. “See. I already got you calling for the Lord, and I ain't even touched you yet,” I giggled into my hand. He used his hand to play with the frizzy hair at the nape of my neck. I chose to wear my hair in a wash-and-go, but it was being destroyed by the humidity.

“So, what would happen if you touched me?” he asked tracing small circles on my scalp. “It depends. You wanna hear God, or do you wanna see him? I can do both if I like you,” I said placing my hand on his bicep. “Damn! That's how you comin’?” he asked grunting. “And I thought I was doing sumthin' with the stars and the moon,” he said placing his hand on my hip. “Maybe you just need a little encouragement,” I said rubbing up and down his arm. “Hmm, encouragement?” he questioned while raising a single eyebrow. “You know… just a little talking to get you through it,” I said resting my hand on his shoulder.

“Talk me through it then,” he replied as he gestured for me to continue. His hands were now on both sides of my hips. “We're in public. You sure you can handle that,” he said tilting his head again. I leaned in as close as I could. “Before I continue, do you like Big Daddy or Good Boy? I need to know for my pleasure,” I asked snaking my hand to the side of his neck. I used my thumb to stroke his jawline. “What's the difference?” he asked. “Well, if I'm taking care of business, you're a good boy. However, if you're taking care of business, it's Big Daddy. Understand?” I asked gripping the side of his neck firmly. “Mmmm… shit. I think I do,” he grumbled dropping his head. “No, baby. It's either you do, or you don't. I don't like indecisiveness,” I said angling his head back up so that his eyes met mine.

“What's your name, mama?” he asked. “Havana, but you can call me “Big Mama”,” I said snickering into my hand. “I’m Xavier, so you're Big Mama, huh?” he asked sinking his teeth into his bottom lip. His eyes were narrowing in on my lips. “That's only if you're nasty,” I laughed again. “Hmm… How nasty we talking?” he asked snaking his hands around my hips. “How nasty can you get, love?” I asked locking in.

He looked up at me like he was stunned by that question. “Ok. I don't usually repeat myself, but…” I said while moving gently from his grasp. “I'll be as nasty as you need me to be. How nasty can you get?” he asked. “Well, love. It depends on your performance. Energy is matched around here,” I said watching his eyes linger on me again.

*15 minutes later

Xavier and I had been talking the entire time. He seemed like a decent guy, but I didn't want to make the same mistake twice. I honestly feel like with Terry it was a “right place, right time” situation. That's never been my forte. I was usually much more careful and selective when it came to choosing sexual partners. We both share our STD status and the current number of active sexual partners. Moreover, the condom situation was even more of a fuck up for me. I normally supply them myself, so that men can't say shit about not having one. So, when I dropped the ball as badly as I did with Terry, it shook me a little. How could I have been that fucking careless?

“Uh oh, don't let her get you in trouble,” Jordan said while approaching. “Nigga, I'm not worried about that. My shit straight. What that got to do with anything?” Xavier said turning to dap up Jordan. “Where's Monnie?” I asked Jordan. “Inside. She’ll be out in a minute,” he said giggling and shrugging his shoulders. “Ok,” I said looking back at Xavier because his response to J sounded like a red flag. What was he not worried about? What shit was “straight”? Then, why did Jordan shrug like he was saying “whatever”? Was this man hiding something?

I pulled out my phone and texted Monnie. I asked her if she knew anything about Xavier. She asked why immediately. I texted her and told her we had been outside talking this whole time. The text she sent said it all.

Monnie: RUN BITCH! GET IN THE HOUSE NOW!

I immediately thought of a lie I could quickly tell Xavier. I needed to get to Monnie now! “Shit, Monnie needs me!” I said placing my phone back into my purse. “You good?” he asked leaning in and grabbing my chin so that I could face him. “Yeah, baby. Mama's fine. Be safe alright?!” I said loudly as I walked away. “What about your number?” he called out after me. “If we see each other again, I say it was meant to be,” I said winking at him.

I quickly pushed my way towards the rear entrance of the house. The sliding glass door was slightly ajar so that people could go in and out. I entered the door and was met with a cloud of weed smoke. Fuck, I hated that smell. I walked through the house and searched for Monnie. I sent her a text asking where she was.

Monnie: upstairs bedroom

I walked through the crowded living room and crossed the space to get the stairs. I was at the bottom when I felt hands grab my waist from behind. “Where you going, fine ass?” said a man's voice from behind me. “Please, don't do that,” I said removing his hands. I continued up the stairs without looking back. “Fat bitch!” he yelled at me from below. I turned around to see who was speaking. All I could say was, “Ugh!”

I turned back around to continue up the stairs. I located the door to the room where Monnie should be. I lightly knocked on the door before entering. “Fuck are you knocking for? Bring yo’ ass in here!” Monnie yelled through the door. “First of all, fuck you. Now, spill it. Tea time, hoe!” I said laughing as I entered the room.

Monnie was sitting on the bed waiting. I closed the door and locked it. I sat on the bed beside her. I turned my body so that I was facing her. “Girl, he ain't shit. Please, tell me you didn't give him your number?” she asked shaking her head. “Fuck no! Why?” I asked removing my crossbody and placing it on the bed beside me. “Well, for starters, this nigga has a basketball team of kids. He has 4 baby mamas, and there may be a fifth!” Monnie said chuckling. “Damn, 4 baby mamas, and how many kids?” I asked leaning over to rest my head on my palms under my chin. “I think 8. We don't know a for sure number,” she said casually. “The fuck do you mean by that. Do y'all not know a for sure number, or does he not know a for sure number?” I asked eagerly. “He doesn't know himself. He be fuckin' anything that let him. That's why his ass was burnin’ last month,” Monnie said laughing and slapping my shoulder.

That's when it hit me. If I had met Xavier last month instead of Terry, I would be burnin', too. “Burnin' from what?” I asked Monnie. I was serious now. “I think Chlamydia and Gonorrhea. He apparently got it from one of his baby mamas. The only reason we found out is because he gave it to his “situation”, and she came to his house while we were there and cussed his ass out. Girl! She let him have it,” Monnie said hollering at this point. “That's so foul, bro. We were literally outside talking hot shit and getting spicy—,” I said. “Oh, he hot shit alright?” she laughed.

*2 hours later

I had left the party around midnight. As I was driving home, I remembered I needed eggs and almond milk for tomorrow. I knew there was only one store still open this late at night. I honestly didn't feel like getting out again, so I decided against it.

As I was driving, I started to see construction signs. They all read different things— “detour ahead”, “road work ahead”, and “road closed to thru traffic”. The detour sign pointed to the right. That would throw off my entire drive because that meant I couldn't use the nearest entrance to get on the highway with the next one being miles out.

I grew annoyed but turned anyway. What choice did I have? The road was dark and empty. It was way too late at night to be forced to take detours. I was growing uncomfortable with the fact that there were no streetlights, and the road narrowed towards the end before a sharp blind curve. People weren't as careful coming around. Most hugged the middle taking up both lanes in the process.

As I approached, I slowed down almost to a stop. I slowly rolled through the corner hugging my side of the bend. Once I could see straight ahead, I noticed a truck on the side of the road. The hazards were on, but I didn't see anyone inside. As I got closer, my headlights beamed against the outline of a figure at the side of the truck near the rear tire. I could tell it was a man by the way his physique looked leaning against the truck's bed.

Getting closer, I began to watch him out of curiosity. His body leaned up, and he seemed to be turning around to look in my direction. He used his hand to shield his eyes from the glare of my headlights. That's when I saw it. The tattoo on the forearm looked like—— Terry's.

No, it couldn't be. There's no way a random detour put us in the same place at the same time again. The first time we met I wasn’t supposed to be at the store that day. I accidentally dropped all of the eggs I had and cracked them. I had a cake order to make, so I didn't have a choice but to go get more. Now, this.

I rolled down the passenger side window a little as I got closer. I cleared my throat while laughing to myself. I slowed to a stop as I got to the rear of the truck. He walked towards the car, but he didn't approach fully. “Need a ride, handsome. Don't want you out here stranded,” I said in the most country accent I could. The voice I used gave off backwoods barbie. “Nah, I'm good. Go on home,” he said trying to look through the crack of the window.

I could tell that the absence of streetlights and dark tints were working against him. He squinted a little more. “Oh, come on. I can't leave you out here with all these critters and weirdos. Might take advantage of ya’, hun,” I said trying not to laugh. “Your ol’ man let you pick up strangers this late at night?” he asked. I could sense he was becoming inquisitive. He was searching for any possible signs of this being a setup.

I rolled down the window all the way while hollering with laughter. “Who said we're strangers?” I asked him. His face displayed annoyance and relief. I saw his shoulders drop and his stance loosen. He approached the car fully leaning into the window. “Real funny,” he said smirking. “You looked scared for a second. I'm sorry. I realized it was you as I was coming up,” I replied with a smile.

“What you doin’ out so late, Mama?” he asked tilting his head. I scoffed and waited. He looked at me with a cold stare. He was waiting for an answer. I shrugged my shoulders casually. “Party with some friends,” I said hoping that he would stop staring at me so intensely. “Party, huh? I thought you didn't like parties,” he muttered under his breath. “I heard you, asshole. Yeah, a party. That's what I said, ain't it?” I said gripping the steering wheel tighter. “Watch that mouth,” he grunted lowly. His voice vibrated across the small space of the car. “Or what?” I asked looking over at him.

He stood up and pushed away from the car. He crossed his arms over his chest and shifted his body weight to one side. “I would say I'd put somethin’ in it, but me and you both know you'd like that, ‘Vana. Wouldn't you?” he shot back.

Touché, Terry. Touché.

“Coming or not?” I asked and gestured towards the passenger seat. He shook his head yes and walked towards the driver's side of his truck. He opened the door and grabbed his keys and a backpack. He walked back to my car to get into the passenger side. He opened the backseat first to place his backpack in. I could see the confidence in his step.

My eyes started to wander a bit. He was dressed in a gray T-shirt and dark-wash blue jeans. Slightly wet from sweat, his shirt clung to the muscles underneath. Every detail is etched into my memory. The deep cut of his abs. The veins in his biceps that popped out when he made even the slightest movements. The slight jiggle in his pecs.

Not this again. Get it together, Havana.

I turned to look away as he entered the car. Closing the door, he sank into the seat and sighed. “I’ve been out there for a while. Was about to walk back towards Miller to get closer to my place,” he said. I could feel his eyes on me. “Where were you going?” I asked eyes locked forward. “Randall's,” he said leaning over so that his arm was overtaking the center console. “Really?!” I asked loudly. “You'll live. Where you want me to put my hands? In my lap?” he asked his voice surging through the small space. “Or would you rather I put them in yours?” he chuckled. “Whatever!” I said pushing his chest and rolling my eyes. I put the car into gear and began to drive.

“Do you mind if I stop at Dixie? I needed to pick up some stuff for tomorrow,” I asked looking at him. “Nah. I mean it is where we first met,” he said smiling back at me. I rolled my eyes and continued to drive.

*15 minutes later

We walked through the store side-by-side. He was right on my ass. This man had no regard for personal space. “Do you have to be so close?” I asked pushing him away. “Oh, now you got a problem with it?!” he laughed throwing his head back. “Fuck you, Terry,” I said in a whisper low enough for only him to hear. “You sure you want that? You sure you can take it this time?” he questioned while getting closer to me. “You got jokes, huh? Remember this, sir. You may beat me when I'm on my back, but I can make you cry when I'm on my knees,” I said turning away from him. I heard him grunt and scoff. I peeked over my shoulder to see him smiling at me.

He walked away in the opposite direction. That was fine with me. I needed a small breather. Everything about Terry had me on edge, and the flashbacks from that night weren't helping.

I walked to the rear of the store where the dairy and produce were. I walked towards the coolers that contained the eggs. I picked up an 18-count for now and checked the crate for broken eggs. Finding none, I placed the eggs securely under my arm. I moved to the fridges right beside them to look for almond milk— unsweetened and vanilla. They were out. I moved to the next fridge and spotted regular unsweetened almond milk. Fine, that would have to do.

I opened the door to the fridge. A cold, crisp air whipped across my face. The milk rested on the bottom shelf. I leaned over to get it. As soon as I reached for the milk, I felt hands on my hips. “Hands off, Terry,” I said through gritted teeth. “Who's Terry?” asked a familiar voice. “Xavier!” I yelled almost dropping the eggs.

I whipped around and removed his hands from my hips. “Here we are again. You remember what you said? I think you owe me somethin’,” he said moving closer to me. “That was before I knew you lied to me,” I said pushing him back gently. I wanted to be assertive but not piss him off. As he got closer again, I could smell the alcohol on his breath. It was much stronger than it was before.

“The fuck did Monnie stupid ass tell you?” he yelled smacking his lips. “Look. She didn't say anything, love. Just…,” I said trying to push him away from me. His hands came up to my hips again. He gripped the tighter than the first time. “Hey, let me go!” I yelled. “Oh, come on. You one teasin’ ass bitch,” he yelled again slapping the eggs from under my arms. They hit the ground with a thud. The crate cracked open and egg yolks shot up all over the bottom of my skirt and all over my feet.

I tried to move again and sidestep away from his grasp but to no avail. He grabbed my wrist and yanked me back towards him. My body collided with his. He grabbed my arms and slammed me up against the cold glass of the fridge. My body bounced off from the impact.

His hand reached up as if he were going to hit me. I flinched in fear and closed my eyes. It's as if I stopped breathing while waiting for the hit to land. It never did. I opened my eyes to see Terry grabbing Xavier by his collar. They were close in height but Xavier appeared slightly bigger.

Terry pushed Xavier away from me. Terry threw the first punch immediately after. His hand collided precisely with Xavier's jaw. X’s head snapped sideways and his body flew backward. Terry watched him as he stumbled. “Don't you ever touch her again!” Terry growled closing in on Xavier as if he was going to hit him again. Xavier cowered and retreated without a word.

Terry turns back to look at me. His scowl sent shivers down my spine. “I didn't…,” I said struggling to breathe. “Hey, you okay? Mama, look at me!” Terry said grabbing the sides of my face. He angled my head so that I was looking up at him. I was trying not to cry, but I couldn't hold back the tears. “I'm sorry I froze,” I said gasping for air. “Ay, c’mere. Don't do that? Havana, breathe!” he said pulling me into his chest. He wrapped his arms around me hugging me tightly. I wasn't aware of anything around me at the moment.

My thoughts were all over the place. My mind was racing, and I couldn't form a complete thought. “Let’s go,” Terry said holding my hand. He placed the other on my lower back and guided me out of the store. “Keys,” he said into my ear while leaning over me from behind. “Huh?” I said being pulled from my daze. “I need your keys, baby girl,” he said placing his hands on my shoulder.

I reached into my purse and handed Terry my keys. “I know it's late, but I don't want you driving home like this. Do you feel comfortable going with me until you feel better?” Terry said walking around me so that he was now looking down at me. He placed his hands gently on the side of my face again. “’Vana, baby. Listen. You gotta answer me, mama. I need somethin' here,” he asked stroking my cheeks. I nodded as I began to cry again.

He placed his hand on my lower back and guided me to the passenger side door. He opened the door for me to get in. I slid past Terry and sat down in the seat.

The memories I had tried to forget came flooding back — my ex. I spaced out for a second. Terry opened the door and climbed in. He adjusted the seat to fit more comfortably to his height. He leaned over one final time and kissed my forehead. “Just promise me that you're okay?” he asked softly. “Yeah, I'm… I'm okay,” I said sniffling.

*20 minutes later

I stood in Terry's bathroom waiting for the shower to warm up. I was leaned back against the sink while fighting to remain consciously present. I hated it when things triggered me and brought me back to that place. I had worked so hard to never deal with this again. All those years of therapy, and for what? How could what this man did still take such a toll on me? Tonight, I felt like I regressed tremendously.

I stood up and walked to the glass shower door. I slid it open and reached in to feel the water. It was more than ready. I just wanted to get in and wash away all of tonight—all of the egg yolks, all of the fear, all of the anxiety, all of it.

Taglist (asked and assumed):

@avoidthings @brattyfics @5headsupremacist @creartivefairy @miyuhpapayuh

@megamindsecretlair @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @nayaxwrites

@jimmybutlrr @lovey-3 @curvyambitions

@deja-r @hoouno06 @insidefeelingofanadult @slutsareteacherstoo

@ariiijestertheklown @armandosbabymama @gg-trini @skyesthebomb

@blowmymbackout @blackerthings @mymindisneverhere

@iburias @androgynousgaz @becauseimswagman1

@geee3bayyybeee3 @gwenda-fav @poektiou624 @keyaho

@pocketsizedpanther @sageispunk @charismablu @4ftwonder

@ineedmyaccountback @rebelrel0987 @4pfsukuna @writingsbytee @nayaesworld

@blyffe @helloncrocs @amyhennessyhouse @beenathembo @thiccc-c @babybratzmaraj

@qtmkenedy03 @pinkpantheris @skyesthebomb @honeytoffee @talkswithdesi

*If you want to be added or removed, let me know by commenting.

[cressidagrey]

You are the best thing that's ever been mine - Part 5

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Ariel Cane (Original Character)

Summary: Sao Paulo 2024. The Dutchman delivered a defining drive…but maybe there is a relationship that could also use some defining. 

Warnings: Jos Verstappen, angst, crying, mention of pregnancy, mention of sex and sexual acts, physical confrontation

Author Notes: Hi, hey, hello! Apparently I write F1 Fanfiction now?! Also this is the first time I am trying a social media au so my Canva Skills were put to the test. (Disclaimer: I kinda put legibility over authencity, so twitter doesn't look like twitter and messages looks like...something) Also huge thanks to @onebigfangirlworld and @leodette for holding my hand with this 😘)

“There are two more things we need to talk about,” Gemma said carefully.

She didn’t want to talk about more. Quite frankly, all Ariel wanted was to hug Max tightly. He had this unreadable expression on his face that told her that a storm was raging inside him, something they had only scratched the surface off. 

She had never wanted to make him choose between her and his father…but this was what had happened regardless. 

Hadn’t this been enough?

“First of all, do you want to give out a statement?” Gemma asked Max.

Max's expression darkened at the question, his jaw clenching a little. ”I don’t think it’s a question of what I want,” Max gave back. 

She agreed. 

Whatever Max said would be all over the media in no time…but saying nothing at all…wouldn’t go over well. The media would spin it into something worse. 

Max would look like he didn't care, like he was trying to hide something, even when she knew the truth. 

He sighed in irritation. "What do you suggest?" he asked Gemma. 

Gemma seemed to understand his hesitation and frustration. 

She sat up a little straighter in her seat, her expression professional.

“The press will know if you try to bullshit them,” she said drily. “Go with the truth. It was a completely inappropriate incident. And you ask for privacy at this time. Nothing too concrete.”

Max let out an annoyed huff, but nodded slowly.

"Yeah, let's go with that," he said in a resigned tone. "The last thing we need is the media speculating and starting another rumor."

Ariel sat quietly, still leaning against Max's chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

She could hear the irritation in his voice, could feel the tension in him as he talked to Gemma about their next course of action.

She couldn't help but feel guilty that he was in this situation because of her. Because of what had happened earlier. She hated that he had to be dealing with this mess instead of enjoying the win he deserved.

“They are still running with the pregnancy…speculation,” Gemma said. “I need to know…Is it true? Is Ariel pregnant?”

This whole pregnancy question was a ridiculous thing to ask, but she understood why Gemma had brought it up.

She was trying to cover all the bases, to make sure that there weren't any unexpected surprises that could make the media circus even bigger.

“Nope,” Azriel said drily popping the p. 

“Are you…sure?” Gemma pressed carefully. 

Ariel suppressed a snort at Gemma's skeptical look. "I'm absolutely sure," she confirmed, her tone firm. She could sense the disbelief in Gemma's question, and she couldn't help but add with a hint of humor, "I've been celibate for the past year, so there's absolutely no chance that I'm pregnant. None whatsoever."

Now Gemma stared at her like she was insane. 

“You want to tell me that the two of you haven’t…” Gemma said carefully.

“Gemma, for fuck’s sake, we haven’t even kissed!” Max snapped. Ariel couldn't help but laugh softly at Max's blunt response.

She could see the skepticism on Gemma's face, the disbelief that she still wasn't fully convinced. And she couldn't help but smirk a little.

“Just for the record, we figured things out 3 hours ago,” Max said drily.

Ariel had to suppress a laugh at Max's dry statement.

Three hours.

They had figured things out and confessed their feelings for each other, and here they were, dealing with the media fallout and questions about pregnancies.

She couldn't help but find the whole situation slightly absurd and amusing. It was just a perfect example of how ridiculous the media could be sometimes. 

One minute, they were obsessed with every little detail of her relationship with Max, and the next, they were asking if she was pregnant, even though they hadn't even had sex yet.

Ariel felt Max's arm tighten around her a little, and she knew he was probably thinking the same thing.But amidst all the absurdity and the media frenzy, one thing was clear to her.

She and Max had finally taken that crucial step, confessed their feelings to each other.

She felt warm, safe, and loved in his embrace. He was her rock, her pillar of strength.

She didn't care about the media, about their questions or speculations. Not when she had Max by her side.

Ariel leaned into his chest a little more, her body fitting perfectly in his arms. She could feel the warmth of his chest against her side, could hear his steady heartbeat.

Ariel knew they were in for a bumpy ride, especially with the media. They would be all over them, asking questions and speculating about every little detail.

But she didn't care. As long as she had Max, as long as they were together, they could weather any storm.

She felt Max's hand move, gently caressing her shoulder, his touch sending a shiver down her spine. She looked up at him, a small, tender smile playing on her lips.

Despite the chaos and the uncertainty of the situation, she felt a sense of calmness and peace. She knew that no matter what happened next, they would face it together. They were in this together now, no going back.

“...finally,” Gemma breathed.

Ariel chuckled at Gemma's relieved sigh.

"Finally indeed," she echoed in agreement.

She looked up at Max, his arm still wrapped around her. He seemed a little more relaxed too, his body less tense than before.

"Took us long enough, hm?" Max teased with a wry grin.

Ariel couldn't help but roll her eyes playfully at his comment.

"Is it serious?" Gemma asked carefully.

"As serious as can be," Max replied immediately, his tone firm and resolute.

Ariel knew that Max didn't do anything halfway, he was all-in when he committed himself to something. And when he said 'as serious as can be', he meant it wholeheartedly.

And still…she could feel a little shiver run through her at his words. 

She knew Max meant every word he was saying.  He was all in, and he was serious about them being together.

There was a certain charm in Max's blunt and decisive nature.

He wasn't one to sugarcoat things or beat around the bush.

He meant what he said, and he said what he meant.  And when he said that he was serious about them, he meant it. 

There was no room for speculation, no room for doubts.

And Ariel loved that about him. 

She trusted him blindly. 

"We've been dancing around each other for ages, and I'm done wasting any more time," Max stated firmly.

Ariel could hear the determination and certainty in his voice.

He meant it, he was done playing around.

Ariel felt her heart skip a beat at Max's declaration, her stomach fluttering with excitement and anticipation.

It was the last push she needed, the final confirmation that she wasn't the only one feeling this way.

Max was all in, and he was serious about them.

She felt a surge of happiness and relief wash over her, the truth of his words sinking in. They were doing this, they were really doing it.

She leaned into him, her body pressing against his, seeking his warmth and comfort.

Ariel could feel the firmness of his chest against her, his arms strong and protective, holding her close to him.

"I am happy for you both, but this does complicate things," Gemma said carefully. "The fact that he is your boss..."

"She works with me, not for me," Max cut her off.

Ariel suppressed a smile at Max's quick correction.

She felt a warm flutter in her chest as he spoke up to the defense, setting the record straight instantly.

And to be honest, she couldn't help but find it just a little bit hot, how he was so quick to correct Gemma, how he was always so quick to stand up for her.

“You are the ones paying her salary,” Gemma correcte him drily. 

"We haven't let our relationship interfere with our professional lives before, we won't start with it now," Max continued. "And yes, I do pay her salary. Which means she works for me and not for Re Bull. So I don't really care what you have to say about this, she doesn't fall under company policy."Ariel felt a surge of pride and affection for Max as he spoke.

His words were firm and determined, leaving no room for arguments.

And hearing him defend her, hearing the certainty in his voice…Ariel looked up at him, admiring the strength and resolve in his eyes.

She knew he would always have her back, always stand up for her.

"We've been able to separate our personal relationship from our work," he continued, his voice steady and unwavering. "We've always been professional and respectful in the workplace, and that's not going to change."

He paused for a moment, his gaze shifting to Ariel, his expression softening ever so slightly.

"We know how to work together effectively, without letting our personal feelings interfere,” he continued, his voice firm yet caring. 

“I agree,” Ariel said calmly. “We can manage. We always have.”

“I can already see, it doesn’t matter what I say,” Gemma said with some amusement.”

“No,” Max agreed flatly. 

“What else?” Ariel asked with a grimace. 

Gemma let out a long sigh, her expression becoming a little more serious. She ran a hand through his hair, clearly contemplating how to phrase the second matter.

"Have you checked social media yet?" she asked with a grimace

Ariel's stomach immediately dropped at the question, a sense of foreboding creeping up inside her.

She had a feeling she knew where this was heading, and she already didn't like it.

"Do I actually want to know what happened?" Max asked drily.

"Well, the press thought that whatever happened between Ariel and your father was much more interesting than actually asking the other drivers about the race...and they mad had a few...thoughts on that?"

Oh god. 

"I think you'll want to see this?" Gemma said, as she handed over her tablet.

It was a clip of Pierre Gasly, clearly taking at the after race press interview, with the interviewer posing the question: "Do you happen to know if Max Verstappen is in a romantic relationship with Ariel Cane?" And Pierre actually answered, "Not as far as I know...but if they do become a couple in the next few weeks, I would win the bet, so if they could get on that, that would be great!"

"What bet?" Ariel asked weakly as she watched the clip run out.

She could already see where this was going. And she didn’t like it. 

Were the other drivers betting on her relationship with Max?

"Who exactly took part in that bet?" Max asked, his voice fierce.

"...The whole grid?" Gemma answered with a grimace. "Apparently there is a whole betting pool according to Lando Norris?"

Ariel couldn't believe her ears.

The whole grid? Seriously?

She felt a mix of anger and incredulity at the revelation. Everyone, literally everyone on the grid, had been betting on her and Max getting together?

"This is ridiculous," she grumbled, her irritation reaching a boiling point.

The media and now the other drivers, all speculating about her and Max like they had nothing better to do.

She could feel Max's annoyance radiating off of him, and she knew he was just as fed up with this nonsense as she was.

"I can't believe they're all betting on our personal lives," she continued, her frustration growing with each word.

She could understand that the media loved to pry and speculate, but for the other drivers to also partake in this absurd gossipmongering... it was simply infuriating.

"Have they got nothing better to do than speculate about what's going on between us?" Max growled. 

"And to think that even the other drivers are placing bets on us," Ariel said, her tone filled with disbelief.

It was one thing if the media was gossiping, but for the drivers to be involved in this ridiculous betting pool... it just seemed so juvenile.

"I mean, what is this, high school?" Max huffed, his irritation evident in his voice.

He was clearly as fed up with this whole situation as she was.

She couldn't believe that the other drivers had nothing better to do than bet on her and Max's relationship status.

"Also Lando Norris is apparently worried that he won't get Christmas Cookies from you this year?" Gemma continued with a grimace.

Ariel almost burst out laughing at the news about Lando Norris.

Was he seriously concerned about not getting her Christmas cookies?

"Lando is worried about the cookies?" she repeated, a mixture of amusement and disbelief in her voice.

She couldn't help but find it a bit ridiculous that the most pressing issue on Lando's mind was whether he'd be receiving her Christmas cookies or not.

"Seriously, that's what he's concerned about?" Max chimed in, his tone filled with a mix of irritation and amusement.

He seemed just as flabbergasted as she was that Lando was more worried about the cookies than anything else.

"I mean, I'm flattered that he enjoys my cookies so much," Ariel said, trying to keep a straight face.

She was finding this whole situation more and more absurd by the minute. It was like they were in some kind of soap opera or something.

"But the fact that he's more concerned about missing out on a batch of my cookies than anything else is just... I don't even know what to say," she continued, shaking her head in disbelief.

It was ridiculous, but also kind of endearing in a way. She couldn't help but find Lando's preoccupation with her cookies just a bit adorable.

"I swear, the drivers these days have their priorities all mixed up," Max chimed in, a hint of mock irritation in his voice.

He was trying his best to maintain a stern expression, but Ariel could tell he was secretly amused by Lando's obsession with her cookies.

"One minute, they're focused on the race, and the next, they're worried about the possibility of missing out on some homemade treats and having betting pools about my private life," Max continued, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

Gemma let out a sigh, rubbing her hands together nervously.

It seemed like there was still more.

Ariel could feel her irritation rising once again as she prepared herself for more ridiculous gossip and speculation.

"Anything else?" Max asked clippedly.

"Charles Leclerc may have said that it was obvious that the two of you were in love?" Gemma offered. 

Ariel nearly choked on her own spit. 

She glanced at Max, seeing how his jaw was clenched tightly, his irritation evident.

Ariel couldn't help but roll her eyes.

Seriously? Charles Leclerc was now an expert on her and Max's relationship?

"Max. Charles and I are going to have an inchident the next time we meet," she said, as she closed her eyes.

Max chuckled, a hint of amusement in his voice. "We need him in one piece for the next race, you know," Max said, a hint of humor in his voice. “So go easy on him please.”

"Anything else?" Ariel asked nearly begging. Please let that be all?

"I think that's it," Gemma said quickly, as she gathered herthings to leave. 

Ariel let out a sigh of relief, glad that the barrage of ridiculous gossip seemed to be over.

She sank back into the sofa and against Max, feeling a mixture of exhaustion and irritation.

Ariel was so tired of the media and the drivers prying into her personal relationship with Max.

"You know what, I'll deal with them tomorrow," she said with a sigh.

Max gave her a hum of understanding, his expression sympathetic.

"And Lando is not getting any christmas cookies any time soon," she muttered, making Max laugh.

"We both know that you don't hold a grudge that long," he teased her.

Ariel shot Max a mock glare, but she couldn't help but smile at his comment.

He knew her too well.

"Shut up," she muttered, shoving him playfully with her shoulder.

She tried to maintain a stern expression, but she couldn't help but feel a hint of amusement in spite of herself.

She looked at Max, giving him a weary smile.

"I swear, it's like the whole world has nothing better to do than gossip about us," Ariel muttered, her frustration still evident in her voice.

She shook her head, still finding it hard to believe that the other drivers had been betting on their relationship status.

Max chuckled darkly, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

"Well, they're all bored and have nothing better to focus on," he said dryly.

"I swear, the next time I see Lando, I'm gonna smack him upside the head," Ariel grumbled.

She was still irritated at Lando's statement about missing out on her Christmas cookies.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed,” Max said softly. “You are threatening violence, so you need sleep.”

He was probably right about that. 

She was tired, both mentally and physically, and she knew that a good night's sleep would do her some good.

Ariel got up from her chair, stretching her arms slightly.

"Yeah," she agreed, her voice soft. "Bed sounds good right now.Will you…keep me company?” She asked him, biting her lip.

She wasn’t sure why this was making her nervous…

Maybe because they had never actually share a bed before… but Max smiled at her, his eyes softening at her request.

"Of course I will," he replied softly. His voice was warm and reassuring, filled with unspoken affection.”You still owe me cuddles after all,“ he teased her and she snorted.

Ariel did snap a picture of the saltines and ginger ale on the bedside table as she connected the phone to her charger. While she didn’t theoretically fall under the purview of Gemma, she still send off a quick text about the instagram post she wrote, not wanting to stub any toes. Ariel was not going to let that ridiculous pregnancy speculation go on any longer. 

 She also texted Emma, not wanting her sister to be worried.

And then she slid under the high thread count sheets and glomped onto Max. 

Max just laughed softly as he felt her snuggle up against him, her body molding perfectly against his.

He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close, and she relished in the feeling of her head resting against his chest.

He nuzzled his face against her hair, taking a deep breath, inhaling her scent.

Ariel still couldn’t quite believe this. Not really. It felt utterly and completely…magical.

But here she was, curled up with Max in his bed, one hand of his gently tracing her spine and him pressing kisses to her hair.

“Did you…did you mean what you said?” Ariel asked him hesitantly.

“What?” Max wondered.

“That I am the woman you…you love,” she answered weakly. Did he mean that or had it just been the heat of the moment or… Max stopped his caresses for a moment, sensing the uncertainty in her voice.

He pulled back slightly, looking down at her, his eyes meeting hers.

His expression was gentle, filled with warmth and sincerity.

“Of course I meant it, Schatje” he said quietly, his voice soft and reassuring.

He reached one hand up, gently stroking her cheek.

“You’re the woman I love, Ariel,” he repeated firmly, as if trying to hammer the point home.She couldn’t believe it. It was jsut…

It was everything she had ever wanted right there for her taking.

“Good,” she whispered. “Because we really took long enough and I love you too.”Max's expression softened as he heard her words, a slow smile spreading across his face.

He couldn't help but feel a wave of relief wash over him as she confirmed her feelings for him.

He pulled her closer, holding her tightly against him.

"We really did take long enough, didn't we?" he murmured, his voice filled with amused affection.

He ran his fingers gently through her hair, his touch gentle and tender.“Only five years,” she joked.

Max chuckled, shaking his head slightly.

"Right," he said with a grin. "Only five short years."

He pretended to sound annoyed, but the amused sparkle in his eyes betrayed his true feelings.

He pulled her even closer, their bodies now pressed fully against each other.

"We really are idiots, aren't we?" he teased, his lips grazing her forehead.She hummed her agreement, tipping up her face.

“Don’t make me ask,” she requested softly.Max chuckled softly, sensing her unspoken plea.

He knew exactly what she wanted, and he was more than happy to oblige.

He cupped her chin gently, tilting her face up towards his.

"You don't have to ask," he murmured, his voice low and husky.

Without further ado, he lowered his head and captured her lips in a soft, tender kiss.

Ariel melted into the kiss, her body molding against Max's.

[boredpotate]

Happier Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Arcane or any music, just this concept idea.

Concept: Isekai Fem Reader turns back time to fix her timeline, but has unforeseen consequences.

??? Pov

Running. It's all I have on my mind right now. Get away. Get far away from that thing. I can still hear the few people left standing fighting. Shots being fired, screams of pain and a brawl happening. Damn it. This was supposed to be a secure place. The boss said so himself.

I hear as the fighting ends in the distance behind me, but I keep running anyway. Not chancing it. Not with this person. I need to report to Simon and le-

*BANG*

"AAAGH!!!"

An immense and sudden pain shoots through my leg, causing me to fall over onto the ground.

"FUCK! fuck! shit! fuck!" I yell out swears to the skies as I grab my leg onto my leg. I don't have time cope with the fact that I just got shot in the fucking leg, because I know they're coming. I see their silhouette through the smog. One arm raised in my direction and the barrel of a handgun I can't make out facing towards me, and a shovel being held in the other dripping with what is most likely blood. I push through the pain and force myself up to limp myself to an alleyway as they shoot in my direction and use the wall as a support. They're messing with me.

'Why me!? We aren't even in their territory! We made sure of it!,' I continue on and take many turns to try to loose them and holding onto my leg wound to lessen the blood dripping, 'I just need to get to the light. They never come out of this hole.'

I start becoming more aware of the pain as I continue moving, but ignore it to keep my pace steady. Some hope rises as I look back to see nothing, but just as I turn back around I am met with a boot to my chest. I feel the wind get knocked out of me as I hit the ground, my vision dazed from the back of my head being hit as well.

I look up already knowing who it is standing in front of me, but I never thought I'd be one of their victims. Boots, ragged pants, shovel hanging from their hip on one side with a holster on the other side, some dirty jacket with some kind of body armor underneath and an enforcer gas mask with a one of the old miner helmets. Always covering their face. Always a bad omen for any gang that's hunkering down here.

"Please! I do- AAGH!" I yell in pain as they stomp on my wound. I then feel myself be yanked up by my collar before getting slammed into the wall.

"Talk."

"Listen I don't know anything you want! I was only put in charge of that warehouse!"

"Bullshit, that's what the last guy said before he confessed about you. He said you report to your boss and I want to know where he is."

'Of course she does. Another gang leader being tracked down by this crazy bit-.' my thoughts are interrupted by being pistol whipped across my nose.

"Fuck! Please, I really don't know! I only report to a guy named Simon, but he's not the boss! You saw the place I was in; it was hardly secure at all!", I plead to them, hoping for some mercy. They stare at me for a second before letting out a breath of frustration.

I am yanked forward and thrown onto the ground. I flip over and find myself looking up at them as they stand over me; my eyes staring down the barrel.

"NO! PLEASE, I TOLD YOU ALL I KNOW!"

"You want to beg? After all the lives you've taken and ruined ever since you moved into this area? Be happy I don't make it slower."

"WA-"

Then there was nothings.

Reader Pov

'Another fucking dead end.' I think to myself in frustration as I holster my revolver.

I take a minute to finally catch a breather before checking for anything useful on this guy and the others at the warehouse. Once I'm done I decide to go track down this Simon guy next. It's been nothing but this constant cycle for the past eight years.

"At least everything is going good up above. From what I hear at least." I say to myself, trying to look on the bright side of things. Ironic considering how I'm in what is now the shittiest part of the Undercity. It's been awhile since I've left this area, and since I've seen them.

Last time I left, it was to go witness that historic speech on the bridge. They did it. Vander and Silco finally accomplished their dream, and now Zaun has become a better place. So much light and the whole mood of the town is different too. Much more happy. Just like what I dreamt about, but I don't go over there. I can't.

There's enforcers that will most likely think I'm up to something, it's too bright to hide, not crowded enough to blend in anywhere and honestly I just don't really fit in with this new Zaun anymore. Not their fault, it's me that's the problem. Everyone dresses so nice, clean and casual along with how nice the community has become. Then there's me. I look like I crawled out of a dumpster or came back from an apocalypse..... honestly the latter isn't too inaccurate considering what almost happened originally. Probably also the reason why people usually leave me alone and gives me looks sometimes. I look weird compared to everyone else.

Though even with everything I still do my part. Just because most of Zaun has become better doesn't mean there isn't any who didn't like the idea of Piltover and Zaun making peace. Mostly gangs. Since enforcers were able to do their jobs easier the gangs have been pushed down here with me. I've been taking out as many as I could, and nipping the bud of one's that start growing. Especially the one's I knew were aiming for Vander and SIlco. No mercy. Like that one group who tried to recruit me to, I quote "Rebel and takeover Piltover for the true Zuauites." what a bunch of weirdos. Though this most recent one I've been working on is giving me trouble.

They were the only smart one's to stay under the radar when I first started the purge of gangs down here and only recently have been making bigger moves. They aren't too big yet, but if I don't dismantle them they could cause trouble. Turns out that would be harder than I expected. Every time I get pointed to one person, that person points me to someone else and the cycle continues. I'm no detective either, so I'm getting nowhere with the way things are going.

'It's fine. Something will come up eventually,' I try to reassure myself on my way home. It helps a little. Still tired. Kinda hungry too, 'I need to find a way to money.'

Making money the old way wasn't as easy anymore. Not many people that need "jobs" done, and not a lot of people who need to hire a merc for anything anymore. Most of the mercenaries either used their money to leave or joined up with the enforcers for some good and reliable pay with benefits. Can't blame them. Either my line of business is almost dead, or I'm one of the last one's still keeping it alive. Zaun doesn't need mercs like me anymore. That's good.

*stomach grumbles*

*sigh* "I really gotta make more money. Maybe I can pick up some small jobs here and there. Deliver mail to people or something." I reach into my jacket and pull out my journal. I don't write anything in it, but I do draw.

I turn to my most recent sketch and touch up on some details, another one of Jinx. I can't help, but remember. Sometimes I dream of all that happened. I try to put it behind me, but it's hard. They're scarred into my mind, but they remind me why I do this.

"Always stubborn about your hair. Even when I warned you how it can cause trouble in a fight, you insisted." I say to myself as I draw her braided hair. Took forever to braid them, but she loved. Honestly she made them look good.

I smile. Taking a moment to forget about the world and get lost in something else.

'Hopefully this, Simon, has better info.'

3rd Person

Meanwhile above ground across the bridge. A certain investigation in being looked into. With an ongoing interrogation happening.

"Do you really think we're that stupid?" Vi asks the woman sitting across the room from her and her partner. Both in crime and..... other things.

"Yeah."

Vi shoots forward and ready to lunge, but is quickly stopped by Caitlyn who leans into her ear.

"Calm down, Vi. She wants you to get upset." she says while holding onto one of Vi's shoulders to comfort her. Though she does understand her frustration.

Ever since they've been looking into a recently bold gang, they've hardly gotten anywhere. She takes a moment to make sure Vi has calmed down before turning back to the woman in questioning.

"I understand that you have no reason to help us, bu-."

"No shit. I get thrown behind bars and then pulled out for questioning about a gang, I'm not even a part of."

"But. We really need something here. If you cooperate we could negotiate with reducing your sentencing. Your records show you have been improving and haven't caused trouble, but we can only do that if you work with us." Caitlyn explains, trying to negotiate some kind of deal for some information.

The woman slightly relaxes before shaking her head with a sigh.

"Listen girl, I told you before. I really don't know anything about this gang. All I know is what I told you. They used to be small and kept to themselves and they've grown."

Caitlyn scowls, not at the woman, but down at the table in front of her. Another dead end.

"But.... you could try asking the hound." the woman suggests, which catches Caitlyn's attention, but Vi scoffs.

"We already asked my dad. He's not really involved with that stuff anymore, and his contacts have been out of that kind of business for awhile."

"Not Vander. The new one down in the deep end of the Undercity." this catches Vi's interest now.

"A new hound? Let me guess, another wannabe big shot?"

"No. This one's the real deal. Has been making a name for themselves for a few years now. Ever since most of the gangs got pushed back down deep into the Undercity; ever wondered what happened to all those old gangs eight years ago? Bloodhound took them out one by one." the woman explains, her tone lined with admiration and respect. Caitlyn raises a brow at the name.

"Bloodhound?"

"That's what people call them. No one I've met knows their name or has seen their face."

With things moving in a good direction, Vi sits down next to Caitlyn at the table.

"I assumed all the gangs just died out after peace was made. So what? They some gang leader or something?"

"No, but they do have a small territory. All to themselves. They got a lot of respect down there. You remember that weird group two years ago? Dressed all rugged and called themselves "True Zaunites"? They idolized Bloodhound; tried to dress like them too. Then one day they went into their territory and tried make them their leader, but ended up coming back beaten black and blue. The guy who was leading the group got a bullet through his skull."

Caitlyn looks skeptical and glances at Vi, who also looks to have some doubt about this "Bloodhound". The inmate notices and shrugs her shoulders.

"I know, sounds weird but it's true. The point is, they hunt down gangs. You want someone with info, then try them."

"How do we contact them?"

"I don't know. Last people who tried was that weird group. Now a lot of 'em are too scared to go back down there."

This brings some, not a lot, but some hope to Vi and Caitlyn to this investigation. Better than nothing. Caitlyn stands up before holding out a hand towards the inmate.

"Thank you for your time and the information. I'll be sure to put in a good word for your cooperation, maybe even get you on probation."

"No problem. Not like I had a choice in coming here. You better not be bullshitting me about that deal." the inmate says as she takes Caitlyn's hand.

Caitlyn nods before turning around to leave, Vi already holding the door open for her. Caitlyn wordlessly signals the two enforcers standing outside to escort the inmate back to her cell before walking with Vi.

"So this "Bloodhound", you think they're legit?"

"I don't know. But we don't have any other leads on this case. My mother trusted us with this case Vi, we can't just give up." Caitlyn says with hints of frustration in her voice.

"Hey, I'm not saying we give up, Cupcake. I was just wanting to hear your thoughts."

"I-I know. I'm sorry. It's just, I don't wan-."

"AH. You don't need to apologize Cupcake. I get it. Don't wanna disappoint parents, trust me, I understand," Vi says reassuringly which makes Cait stop, "What?"

"I love you." she says with a smile before giving Vi a peck on the cheek, making said Pink haired girl blush like a tomato.

"I-I love you too, Cupcake. .....Ahem a-anyway, I don't know if going to find this guy will work. I was thinking maybe we could go see my dad instead. He might know someone who can get in touch with this guy. Plus, I think he'd like to know that there's another "Hound" in the Undercity." Vi says as she wraps an arm around Caitlyn's shoulders to hold her close.

"That sounds nice."

Powder Pov

"So you want me to see if I can get someone to talk to this guy that you two need to talk to."

"I know. It sounds sketchy, bu-." Vi was saying until Benzo cuts in.

"Are ye kidding!? Vander! We gotta see this kid. Running around using your title; they must be a fan! How have I not heard of this guy before!?" Benzo says, poking fun at dad since apparently he has some copycat or something.

"I second that!" Mylo says, making Claggor shake his head with a chuckle.

Dad rolls his eyes, but still has a smile on his face.

"Technically not the same. They're called "Bloodhound"." Cait says, but slight smirk still on her face with Vi wearing one to match.

'Might as well join in on the fun.'

"I don't know if that's a good idea. They might want his autograph." I say with my own cheeky smirk. Leaning into Ekko, as he writes in his book of projects, sitting at the bar with everyone.

"Alright, alright. I get it. I might have some people who still owe me a favor or two," Dad says, as he wipes down a glass behind the bar, "One condition. They gotta meet you two here."

"YES!" Benzo yells in elation, but Vi doesn't look that happy.

"Here!? Dad seriously this person could cause trouble and this place isn't like that anymore." Vi says, but Dad doesn't look like he's budging.

"I'm being serious too. I've heard stuff hear and there about them and I don't want you two going down there alone. I know you two can handle yourselves, but if anything I've heard is somewhat true then this isn't like any other thug or gang leader." Dad says, which makes Vi back down.

'Damn. Now I'm interested.'

"Are you sure they would even come here?" Caitlyn asks a pretty reasonable question.

"Pretty sure. From what I hear they've been getting into shootouts with the gang recently. Probably hunting them down too."

"That isn't a guarantee though. What if they don't show up?"

"If they don't then show up, then they don't show up. They wouldn't have been help even if you went down looking for them, you'd probably just gonna end up in a fight."

'Fair point, honestly.'

Cait looks to Vi, who sighs as a sign of surrendering.

"Fine. How soon can you get someone to talk to them?"

"Today."

Cait looks surprised which makes Dad shrug.

"I got good contacts."

"Good. I guess tomorrow in the afternoon? Does that sound fine?" Vi asks, looking at Cait for confirmation which she gets via a nod.

As the conversation shifts to something else, I look at Ekko as he continues to scribble in his notebook.

"What do you think?" I ask him which makes him stop writing for a second.

"About "Bloodhound"," he asks and I give a simple nod, "Sounds a little fishy. Sounds like one of those people still stuck in the old times of crime everywhere."

"It doesn't sound like they are. They did supposedly take out that one weird group of "True Zaunites"; honestly those people were so stupid." I say with a small laugh, Ekko chuckling a little at the mention of that bizarre group of people.

'The speeches those guys made in the streets were insane.'

"Still, doesn't sound like good company. Why would they want to stay in the deep part of the Undercity? Zaun has become so much better over the years."

"Maybe..... they're afraid to move forward. Don't wanna lose what they have now." I say, honestly projecting more about myself than what I actually think.

'They could just be a psycho.'

I feel Ekko's arm come up to my waist before pulling me in closer as he sets down his pencil.

"Powder. I know it's not easy, but I really do think you could do a lot of amazing things. I know you're afraid of things changing, but..... sometimes taking a leap forward means leaving a few things behind."

"I-I just.... I don't know. I just need some time to think about it." I say, avoiding the topic of what I want to do in life, looking away just staring at the details of the bar counter.

"Okay..... just know I'm here for you Powder. Nothing will change that." Ekko says, supporting and sweet as always, which makes me smile.

"Thanks." I say before giving a small kiss on the cheek.

"No thanks needed."

We sit at the bar in a comfortable silence as my mind wanders.

'Tomorrow should be an interesting day.'

The Next Day.

Deep in the Undercity the infamous Bloodhound stands in the middle of the street, farther than usual from their territory. What is usually a busy street is now completely empty with only Y/n standing there by herself, and facing towards the brighter side of Zaun.

People peak out from their homes through blinds. People who looked like they were about to step outside immediately turn around to lock themselves inside. Others who were making there way down the street immediately turns right around to take a detour around.

All of them had the same questions on their minds.

Why are they here? What are they up to? Is a fight about to happen? Is someone about to die? Are the meeting up with someone here?

.....Also why are they just standing in the middle of the street?

Reader Pov

'Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck this shit! This is, SO! FUCKING! BAD!', I internally panic as I stand in the middle of the street.

Yesterday right after getting some intel from that Simon guy I got a message from some guy. Literally right after. I just tackled that fucker out of the second floor of his shitty bar when he tried stabbing me after getting information out of him. Then I turned and there they were. Staring in shock. Anyway that doesn't matter.

What really matters is the fact that Vander wanted me to come to The Last Drop. I couldn't even ask why because before I could they ran away.

'Why!? What did I do!? Am I in trouble!? I didn't even do anything!'

I'm not supposed to meet them, but how am I supposed to ignore a call from Vander. From Dad. So I forced myself out of bed and I only made it this far before getting too scared. I feel rooted to the ground. I'm scared. I'm scared to see them after so long, even if it's just to talk or something.

"What if I mess this all up?," I ask myself. Trying to decide whether or not it's worth risking all of the good things that have happened to Zaun over the years, "What if I cause a butterfly effect and ruin everything?"

But then there's that other part of me. Desperate and longing to see how my family has been after so long of isolating myself down here alone.

I stand still in contemplation for another minute before finally taking a step forward.

"One time couldn't hurt. Just this once."

Hope you enjoyed. Sorry if there are grammar mistakes.

[singmyaubade]

No Longer Yours

James Potter x Female!Reader

A/N: Hello everyone! Now, I know I took so long to post this part but I wanted to think out everything and understand the direction of where the story is going! Thank you to everyone who was understanding and continued supporting me and this story, thank you so much!

IB: In The Cold November Rain by @sweetsweetjellybean (This is truly amazing guys and what truly inspired this entire series so please check it out!)

Summary: James had disregarded you for multiple years, but when you have an epiphany in your final year, how does it feel to taste his own medicine?

Warning: It may contain swearing, use of weed, and soon-to-be smut.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

The fresh sunlight peaked through the curtains in your room right onto your face as you squinted. Nothing like a beam of light hitting your face after three days of avoiding the Potter family.

You hadn't left your room and Dot kept appearing, asking if you needed anything and would give you dinner when it was time. You knew Euphemia was up to this but she wanted to give you your space which you respected.

You loved Euphemia dearly but you didn't know how to face her or what to say about everything. In all honesty, you were a bit embarrassed about the whole thing.

You wanted to go home badly but your Father was still sick and your Mom had to stay with him so it was with the Potters for Christmas which was a tragedy within itself.

You had asked your Mom if you could just go next door and stay there alone but she considered it rude and the Potters would still have to check up on you so it was easier if you stayed with them.

You just couldn't stop thinking about everything which was more painful.

You never felt like you acted obsessive when it came to James but hearing his words in your heard,

"I couldn't get away from you, and the only time I could was when I dated Lily; it was the best months of my life,"

The words echoed in your head during the last three days. You knew you were an amazing friend to James and always thought about his needs and comforted him.

And he had the audacity to say such cruel words when all you had been was kind and caring towards him.

Not only did it anger you but you felt humiliated that you could care for such a hateful and disgusting person.

He hadn't even tried to approach you about the situation, he just continued to live in the same house with you without such of a word.

The only one who did try to talk to you was Sirius and even when you tried to ignore him, he refused it and to admit, he was hard to ignore.

"Oh Y/N!" Sirius sang loudly outside of your door, "I know you can hear me!" You clutched your pillow over your ears to drown him out, "If you don't let me in, I'm gonna tell everyone what I saw you do in the girls bathroom sixth year," He said, urging you to the door as it swung open.

You glared at him while he had a grin on his face as he stepped inside your room, "Wow, Mom really set you up with the perks," He looked around in atonishment.

"What do you want?" You said sincerely.

"How are you?" He nervously asked, scratching the back of his head.

You scoffed, "Peachy,"

His face frowned, "I know you don't want to hear about James-" He started.

You cut him off, "Ding ding! I don't," You replied, laying on your bed as Sirius sighed.

"Prongs is a dickhead," Sirius started, earning a nod from you, "But he's trying to turn the love he has for you into hate," He explained as you looked off to the window, "So that he won't miss you but he does dearly," Sirius pleaded.

"Why can't he be the one to be mature?" You asked lightly, "Why does everyone always have to speak for him and excuse his poor behavior?" You exhaled, crossing your arms over your silk nightgown.

"James will never deserve you," Sirius answered, "But I do think a serious conversation is needed without the dramatics,"

You knew that you agreed that you needed to have a conversation with James to put an end to all the bullshit and to just finally be done but you didn't know what to say or how to start it.

"The only reason he hasn't tried talking to you is because he knows you will see how he truly feels and who you've always known," Sirius spoke, "It's up to you but I know that whatever you decide will be the best option," He gave you a reassuring smile.

You looked at him, smiling back, "When did you become so wise?" You asked.

He shrugged, "I'm afraid I've gotten fed up of James and gotten bored," He snickered as you giggled, "I'll see you," He said, kissing your forehead lightly as you nodded before he exited the room.

James didn't deserve you and he probably never would but you remembered that young boy who had been your friend for all of those years.

You couldn't excuse James's actions but you could find it in your heart to give him the much dreaded conversation that has been waiting to happen.

And despite hating him more than you ever have in your life, you had to find it in you to at least explain your feelings.

A knock on your door interrupted your thoughts, "Sirius?" You asked confused as the door swung open.

You were surprised to see your four best friends at the door, smiling at you.

"Ew why was that your first guess?" Marlene questioned disgusted as your face glowed in excitement, racing over to your four best friends at the door.

You embraced them all in a tight hug as you pulled back, "What are you guys doing here?" You gleamed in excitement.

"Well, we heard about what happened from Sirius and Euphemia suggested that we come," Dorcas answered.

"And well, we couldn't say no," Mary added.

"But what about Christmas with your families?" You asked, frowning at the fact that they won't spend Christmas with their families.

"It's just one Christmas and I'm sure Petunia will have a better Christmas without me," Lily giggled as you gave her a soft smile.

"Well I can't say it's that merry here," You said, sitting on your bed as they all walked in and Dorcas started admiring the bookshelf in the corner.

Lily sat down next to you as Mary and Marlene shared the chair across from you and Lily, "How about we actually have one day to celebrate your birthday instead of focusing on James?" Lily comforted.

"It's never one of those days," You sighed.

"But it can be," Dorcas smirked, holding up candies.

"Candy?" Mary asked with a snort.

Dorcas rolled her eyes, "No you idiot, there's weed inside them," She whispered.

Your mouth agaped, "Where did you even get that?" You asked.

"Remus is one hell of a dealer," Dorcas replied, grinning ear to ear.

"I don't know about that," Lily said, swallowing.

"You did say that you wanted to celebrate Y/N's birthday," Marlene replied with a smart-ass tone.

"That is not what I meant and you know it," Lily argued.

"We don't have to do it Lils," You smiled, kissing her lightly on the cheek.

"Yes my sweet Lily flower," Marlene walked over, pinching Lily's cheek, "Let's not prevent you from blooming," She snickered.

Lily stared daggers into Marlene, "You know what, just to prove you wrong McKinnon," Lily replied, walking over to Dorcas and snatching the bag from her.

"Wait a second!" Dorcas softly shouted before Lily ate two of the candies.

Lily's face contorted into disgust and then a gulp before shaking her head, trying to shake off the flavor.

"Is that safe?" You asked, walking over to Lily and checking her eyes.

"Yeah but it just means she's gonna fucked out of her mind," Mary snorted.

"Lily, you are the one who tells us to never fall for Marlene's tatics yet you do this!" Dorcas said, sitting Lily down.

"I feel fine!" Lily persisted.

"For now," Marlene snickered.

You glared at Marlene as she put her hands defensively, "Well if we wanna follows Lily lead," Mary said, eating two like Lily did.

"Count me in!" Marlene cheered, eating two straight after.

"Should we?" Dorcas asked as you shrugged your shoulders and took two as Dorcas did the same.

You both ate the candies and your face contorted the same Lily's did. It tasted like a bitter, earthy taste as if you were chewing cannabis.

"And now we wait," Marlene said, plopping down.

You yawned as Marlene exasperated, "I don't feel anything!"

"Well duh you idiot, it takes a little bit," Mary chortled, continuing to lay down on the carpet of the living room next to LIly.

"You did insist we move downstairs because you thought the aroma of Y/N's room was ruining it," Dorcas snorted.

Marlene crossed her arms, "It seemed right at the time," She pouted, sitting down in the big armchair.

"Maybe we should've took more," Mary suggested.

And that's when everything took a turn for the worst.

You felt like you couldn't fully think straight and you had this sweet, bitter taste in your mouth. You felt relaxed like a huge weight had been lifted in your shoulders and you could be alone in your own thoughts.

"Took more?" Lily giggled.

"Yeah duh," Mary said, giggling too.

"Duh," Dorcas repeated as you all laughed uncontrollably.

"Stop, I can't breathe," You horrendously laughed, holding your stomach in your hands.

"Guys, I'm gonna pee myself!" Marlene cried out, rocking back and forth laughing in the chair.

"Guys, we are so loud," Lily whispered, shushing all of you while uncontrollably laughing.

You felt like you were gonna explode, "You're right, you're right," You whispered, trying to calm down.

"Okay guys silent game," Dorcas shushed, covering her hand over her mouth.

Suddenly Sirius walked in with a confused grin on his face on why you all were whispering and trying to be silent, "What are you guys bloody doing?" He asked which made you all break.

You all bursted out into outrageous laughs while holding your stomach's, trying not to explode. James walked downstairs with a confused smile on his face as he watched the scene in front of them.

"What's up with them?" James asked, the corner of his mouth upturning.

"No idea," Sirius shrugged, walking into the dining hall as James followed him.

"Girls," Euphemia appeared from the dining hall as you all tried to shush yourselves, "Come into the hall for dinner," She gave a comforting smile.

'Shit.' You mentally thought.

Lily was the first one to rise up, looking at the rest of you with a worried look on her face. You stood up, trying to inhale the next laughing round.

You walked towards the dining hall as you could hear the girls behind you, whispering and saying to "act normal."

You sat down next to James as his face was mentally confused on why you had made that decision in the first place.

You felt like your eyes fluttering close as you laid your head on James's shoulder. You could feel him shift uncomfortably but let it happen without questioning you.

Euphemia saw the state in front of her in utter shock, "Y/N, are you okay dear?" She asked, worried.

You didn't want her to suspect that you had taken anything or were under the influence,

So all you had to do was act normal.

How hard could it be?

You straightened yourself on your chair, taking your head off of James, "I'm fine!" You said, louder than you wanted to, earning a worried look from James, Sirius, Fleamont, and Euphemia, "I just didn't get a lot of sleep last night," You cleared your throat.

"I'm sorry to hear that dear, do you need any potions?" Euphemia asked.

"No, no, that's okay," You smiled as she returned one back but still looked worried.

"James, can you grab me a piece of that chicken and some potatoes?" You asked, looking up at him as his eyes showed visible shock.

He hesitated before grabbing a piece of the chicken using a fork and knife and placing it on your plate and grabbing the spoon to put potatoes on the plate. You muttered a 'thanks' before digging into the chicken and potatoes.

You weren't the only one because the rest of the girls were doing the same. Sirius, Fleamont, Euphemia, and James all had shocked expressions, wondering if you guys were wolves.

Fleamont whispered something to Euphemia as she assured him that you guys were fine even if it didn't look like it.

"Y/N, are you okay?" James whispered into your ear.

You smiled, "I'm fine James, how are you?" You asked before stifling a laugh.

"Are you blazed?" He asked with a scoff.

"Shh," You laughed while shushing, "Don't tell Mom,"

"Bloody hell," James replied, trying not to laugh at the situation, "Okay, try to follow my lead," He whispered before standing, "Mum, Y/N is not feeling well, I'm gonna take her to lay down," He said, helping you stand up by grabbing your waist.

"Do you want me to come with?" Euphemia asked, rising up.

"No, no, it's fine," James stopped her, "She just needs to rest,"

Euphemia nodded, "Okay well, feel better dear," Euphemia smiled as James began walking you and you squeezed Euphemia's shoulder in a 'thank you,'

James whispered a few things that you couldn't make out while taking you up the stairs, helping you on each step. You almost tripped over a step as James grabbed your waist, leading you up the stairs.

You laughed obnoxiously as you went from room to room, trying to get to your own. James could only try not to laugh and be the serious one in the moment.

He was leading you to your room but you placed your hands on the door frame, stopping him, "No, your room," You frowned.

"Y/N, you need to sleep in your bed," James insisted, trying not to laugh.

"Jamesie, pleaseeee," You pleaded as he couldn't force you through the door frame and gave up.

"Okay," James sighed, "Come on," He didn’t want to see the sad look on your face any longer so he had to cave.

You cheered gleefully as James leaded you to his room, carefully helping you step towards his bed before laying you on the bed.

You looked up at him with a smile as he blushed, "I'm gonna go back downstairs and then I'll sleep in your room," He said, moving to leave.

"Wait!" You yelled, raising up, "Lay with me," You looked at him in the eyes as you looked at him back.

His mouth agaped, "Y/N, I don't know if this is a good idea," He replied.

"We aren't doing anything, I just want you to lay with me," You said, pleading with your eyes.

He walked over to the other side of you, laying up on the headboard as you moved your head to his chest, snuggling into him. His heart was beating faster than you ever could have felt it beat.

"Why are you so mean to me?" You asked, frowning into his chest.

He ran his hands through your hair, "Because I don't know what else to do," He whispered, slowing his strokes down, "I really am sorry Y/N, I don't know if you can forgive me,"

"Just talk to me," You said sadly in his chest.

"When you are sober, I will," He chuckled.

"Promise?" You asked.

"Promise," He said as your eyes fluttered close, sleeping into his chest, "I promise Y/N," He whispered, kissing your head before closing his eyes too.

A/N: For one, I am so sorry for how long this chapter has taken. Number two, this was based on my experience of being high so guys, please don't hate and say this isn't the right experience! This chapter was not that long and not very angst filled but I know my plan! Again, if you hated this, I apologize and thank you so much for reading.

taglist:

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[curioscurio]

Genuine question, if you are voting for Biden why not just vote independent? Biden is not going to win regardless. Why not just skip the vote for genocide and vote for someone that actually cares about Palestinians

Because I live in Florida, which is a powerful swing state. Giving my vote to anyone other than the person who has the best chance at beating Trump is throwing it away. If Trump dies, I'll vote someone else. If Biden dies, I'll vote someone else. If it seems like everyone in the world has finally agreed on a unanimous third party vote by november, I'll vote someone else. Anything can happen before then, and my vote isn't set in stone.

Until then, the majority of undecided voters are going to vote Biden. There's a lot more people in Florida who are tired of the Trump train than you think. They're seeing his trials, his lies, and they're tired. There are a lot of students in Florida who are now eligible to vote. 4 years worth of 18 year olds who all have tik tok and are very much against all the bullshit in the world. And they all understand how the electoral college works. They know their votes could turn Florida blue.

America does not run on Popular vote, it runs on the electoral college. This means that every US state gets a certain number of votes out of 538 total. Some states, like Wyoming, get 3 votes. That means that my state, Florida, effectively gets 30 votes out of the 270 needed to win the presidency. But, here's the catch, ALL of those votes can only go to ONE candidate. (There are exceptions in 2 states, Nebraska and Maine.) If Trump gets more votes than any other single candidate in Florida, all 30 votes go to Trump.

It's called a swing state for a reason, because it can swing the race heavily in one candidates favor. Only Texas and Califorina get more votes at 40 and 54, respectively.

If all the Republicans in Florida vote for Trump, but all the Democrats and Independents are voting for people other than the person on the ballot, Trump will still get 30 votes. Even if some Republicans vote Biden, if everyone else is writing different candidates in, when everything is tallied, Trump could still win.

Imagine you have 270 red delicious apples, 200 Green apples, 38 yellow apples, and 30 macintosh apples. There are still more Red Delicious apples than any other kind, so Red Delicious gets the Presidency. Luckily, people in Florida who liked Red Delicious apples last year are getting tired and might pick Green apples instead this time. They are almost guaranteed to not pick a golden or macintosh apple, though.

This is what happened in 2016 that allowed Trump to win when he LOST to Hillary Clinton for the popular vote. More electoral college votes went to Trump than they did to any other person. From person to person, more Americans as a whole voted for Hillary. It's all about where you live physically.

This is the reason why I'm voting for Biden at the moment. If things change, I'll happily change too!

And Obviously I don't support Genocide. My point is that realistically speaking, Trump has flat out said to just "finish them" already, so it's not out there to assume he will push to accelerate this genocide using nuclear retaliation. I'm not trying to fear monger, I'm saying this system is broken, and they're lying to you about how it works in order to take advantage of your ignorance. Whoever gets the most votes win? Not exactly, but if you don't bother to look any closer, you'll never know you were playing a rigged game from the start.

Vote however you need to for your state. But understand where your vote is going. One vote is the difference between 30 and 3 electoral votes.

[cryptidghostgirl]

Can I request a part 3 to "unrequited"?

A/N I honestly was not planning another part to this story. I'm just gonna... leave this here. (Pls don't hate me guys. This is so genuinely the only path I could think of for this story that I liked.)

Unrequited pt. 3 (Alastor x Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: Um. Alastor is dark/yandere in this part. Uh. Unhealthy relationship. Yeah.

Word Count: 2,094

Previous Parts:

Unrequited (Alastor x Reader)

Unrequited Pt. 2

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List

Alastor had cornered her in the hall. The years, the games, the challenges, none of it was fun anymore. It all came to an end tonight. There was no other option, not when she could die tomorrow. The angels were coming, and they were coming for the hotel.

"I don't want you here tomorrow."

"What!?" Y/n exclaimed in utter shock.

She hadn't known what to expect when Alastor had stopped her as she made her way downstairs to the bar. Everyone was supposed to be having a drink together, celebrating their afterlives that there was a chance they might loose. She didn't know what to expect but, she certainly hadn't expected this.

Alastor had been acting weird lately. He was always weird but ever since the day with Husk in the hallway, he'd been weird even by those standards. He was always finding something for Y/n to do that put her near him, always watching. It was irritating. They had been fighting a lot and Alastor still had yet to apologize to Husk.

"I don't want you at the hotel tomorrow. You are not coming near this fight."

"What the fuck, Alastor?" Y/n nearly stamped her foot on the floor, she crossed her arms and glared at the demon, "I... these are my friends. This is my home. I will do what I can to protect it."

"No, you wont. You wont be here." he paused, "I will use our little deal to make sure of that, if need be."

Y/n scoffed. Her anger was a fiery, radiant thing. Alastor found himself thinking she had always reminded him quite a bit of a lioness when she got like this. The thought had been an accident, he couldn't afford to be distracted. Not when these were the stakes. Alastor pushed it away.

"You fucking... literally why? Like, what? I... sorry, just taking me a bit to process this: the demon who tricked me into selling my soul to them is now going to use that contract to take me, a valuable asset, out of a war which we cannot afford to loose?"

"Yes." Alastor nodded.

"Because?" Y/n prompted in irritation after a moment.

Alastor sighed.

"Y/n, think about what could happen if you are here."

"The same thing that could happen to any one here!" Y/n threw her arms up in exasperation, gesticulating her frustration as she spoke, "The same thing you're forcing on Husk and Nifty, have you had this chat with either of them?"

Alastor didn't respond. It was all the answer she needed.

"Yeah, I didn't fucking think so!" she scoffed, "So it's okay for everyone to risk their lives -- it's okay for you to risk your life even, but not me? Its okay for you to force my friends to risk their lives, but you're going to force me to stay out of it? Listen to yourself, you sound ridiculous."

"We don't need your help. You're slow, you will only hold us back."

The comment he had hope would dampen Y/n's spirit, bend her will into submission, only added to her fire.

"I'm... that's bullshit and we both know it. I might be small, but so is Nifty. Everyone has skills they can offer. I know how to fight, how to survive, and we will have angelic weapons for Christ's sake. Like, I really don't understand what the issue your having is here."

"Y/n, just... no." Alastor shook his head, a hand to his temples, "No. You will not be here tomorrow. I forbid it. I'm sending you to stay with Rosie."

"What am I, your kid?" Y/n sneered.

Alastor looked over at her, his hand falling from his forehead.

"Just please, Y/n." he took a step forward, pulling her hands into his. Alastor took a deep breath. "For me."

Y/n's eyes went wide. Alastor could see the conflict, the swirling emotions. Anger turned to grief, mixed with gratitude, and became anger again. A never ending cycle.

His heart pounded against his chest, it fought him valiantly for release. It had been so long. So long since she'd looked at him with anything other than disgust, so long since she had let him touch her like this.

Y/n settled on confusion as her dominant emotion and pulled her hands from his grasp. Alastor mourned the contact, his hands still held up in the air where hers had met them as Y/n took a step away.

"Why."

It wasn't a question. Y/n commanded information and at the end of the day, he may own her soul but she owned his heart. Alastor felt like in some way, she always had. He couldn't bear the thought of loosing her but, he didn't know if he could handle the rejection either. There was no way, no chance, she would believe him if he told her too much of the truth but, lying wouldn't work either. It would have to be a careful balance, a calculated withholding of information. Too much was riding on tomorrow, on tonight, on this very moment.

"Because I don't want you to die."

Y/n's brow furrowed even further, their eyes growing wider still as she stumbled another step back. Her back was nearly against the wall now, there wasn't anywhere else she could go.

Her eyes flitted around the space fervently. Her lips formed words that never left her mouth. Alastor watched, stress eating him alive. At last, Y/n did something. She brought her hands to her head and sunk to the floor, her knees pulled into her chest.

"What are you doing to me." she muttered softly, just barely loud enough for him to hear.

For what felt like the thousandth time, Alastor felt a little piece of his heart fracture off. He didn't know how much more he could take of this before there was nothing left to break, nothing left to loose. She looked up at him, her hands still holding either side of her head and her eyes wet with tears.

"Why do you care?"

Alastor's breath caught in his throat. There was an insistence in her voice, a pleading. He stood in indecision for a moment, frozen by want, by need, by fear. His body took over as he took a step towards Y/n. Alastor kneeled down in front of her.

With great care, with a familiarity and gentleness Y/n hadn't felt from him in years, Alastor untangled her fingers from her hair. He held her hands in his once again and this time, he wasn't going to let go.

"Because I care about you."

Shock at his own bravery emanated from his chest. Alastor held his breath.

"You..." Y/n's eyes hardened, "I wish you'd stop messing with my head like this. Its not funny."

"Y/n, I'm not messing. I am not playing a game, I'm not..." Alastor sighed, letting go of one of Y/n's hands and running his hand through his hair as he looked to the side.

Taking a deep breath, he turned back to face her, grabbing her free hand once again.

"I don't know what I can do to prove it to you, that I'm not. But I will keep you safe. No matter what, you will not be here tomorrow."

"Please, Alastor."

His heart stopped. He couldn't recall the last time she'd asked him for anything that wasn't to leave her, Husk, and Nifty, alone. He couldn't recall the last time she'd seemed to fragile in his arms.

"Please, they're... they're my family. I can't..." a single tear rolled down Y/n's cheek, "I can't just leave them."

"I..."

There was a moment, a split second where he almost agreed. Alastor's eyes narrowed. He dropped Y/n's hands and got back to his feet. She adjusted her position in response, nearly kneeling before him.

"Please, Alastor. Let me help them. Let me do what I can to protect my family. Please. I'll do anything you want... I'll..."

It almost worked. Alastor felt his purpose waver again. Then the fear came back. He had already lost so much. His mother, his humanity, his own soul and free will. Alastor refused to add Y/n to the list of things that were so far out of his reach. He just couldn't. He didn't care if she hated him for the rest of eternity, as long as it meant she was safe at his side.

"No." he shook his head, his heart hardening, "You forget, you already have to do whatever I want. You forget, I own you."

Y/n's scream of anger as the shadows took her was muffled as she was sucked into their portal. Alastor stood, watching the spot she had been in for a few moments and then, he doubled over in pain. It shot through him in spikes, in daggers. It was the first time he had told her that. Not once before had Alastor ever said those three words to Y/n, not even when they had first made their deal. I own you.

The guilt, the regret, all of it underpinned by the overwhelming love. It had been trapped for so long, so sheltered and pushed back in the recesses of his mind that it had twisted. The love had become obsessive, dangerous, hungry.

With a breath, Alastor stood straight once again. Pushing his composure back to the surface, he smoothed his hair and went down to the bar to inform everyone of his decision. He may have forced Y/n to do something she didn't want to, fracturing things further than he'd believed possible, but he wasn't going to blame her for it. Alastor was used to being the villain and hopefully, in this case, he wouldn't have to be. Hopefully, they would understand.

Y/n gasped for breath as she was let out of the shadow portal. Panting on all fours, slowly she brought herself back together. Y/n had met Rosie before, once or twice. She knew she was a kind soul at heart, a reasonable person, and she knew that Rosie's cannibals were the main force of their army tomorrow. All she had to do was convince the overlord to let her join them, and it would be okay.

Taking a deep breath to restore her confidence, Y/n looked up. Her heart dropped.

"No."

She got to her feet, looking carefully around the decrepit old radio tower.

"No. Nonono."

Her breaths becoming panicked, she ran to the door. It was locked. Taking a step back, she kicked it harshly. The firm wood didn't budge.

Driven by adrenaline alone, Y/n ran to the windows and began to hit them with all her might. None of them so much as trembled.

"No!"

She looked wildly around the space and, spotting Alastor's chair, picked it up. Y/n hurled it at the window. There was a crash and for a split second, there was hope. That was until she realized it was the chair that had broken, not the window.

"No! No!"

Turning back to the door, she hurled her body repeatedly against it. Each time, she got the biggest running start she could. Each time, there was no change at all, nothing happened. Fresh tears pooled in her eyes, she was long past panicked now.

"NO!"

After about twenty minutes, Y/n was out of breath and exhausted. Her whole body hurt and her face was sticky with tears. She sat at the door, her back pressed against it and her knees pulled into her chest. Burying her face in her legs, she sobbed.

Everyone was at the hotel, except for her. Everyone was preparing to fight for and protect what they loved, except for her. What would they think? What would they say? Much more importantly, would they make it out?

A sudden fear gripped her, a fist around her heart. Would she ever see any of them again? Y/n's sobs redoubled.

"Fucking..."

She sniffed, her panic and grief quickly fixing itself back in the shape of the familiar anger. She could see him in her minds eye, that moment his eyes had softened, that moment she thought that maybe he had been telling the truth all along, that they really had been friends, that he really did care.

"I hate you Alastor!" she screamed to herself, alone in the dark, "I hate you and I will continue to hate you until the day I fucking die again!"

----

A/N I love an irredeemable villain and doomed, misshapen love. I'm sorry to anyone who wanted this to end up happy.

[kimhargreeves]

A Flashy Act part 2-Buggy x Reader (smut)

Summary: Buggy has decided to question you behind curtains in his private room, which leads you both to share an intimate moment together.

(A/N: The people have spoken and I delivered!! Enjoy this spicy Buggy smut for all you weird clown fuckers like myself. Special thanks to everyone who liked my post! I didn't expect it to become popular in just a day. Anyone enjoy cause this is nasty..or spicy however you want to look at it. A part 3 may be done once I finish the show since I'm on ep 3.)

(Tag list: @pookiesnatcher @alejandro0-0 @ghostlycrystobalove @lenu-i

"Luffy!"

"Don't worry, I got this!" Luffy shouted when Buggy had grabbed me and began to pull me away from the stage, where Luffy was now held. This fucking clown, I swear if he harms that boy. I frowned when the clown began to now pulling me away.

"Quit giving me such a hard time!"

"Hey! What do you think you're doing pulling me into this room-" I was immediately quiet when Buggy grabbed my shoulders dipped me a bit and he unexpectedly began to kiss me.

I started back at him surprised as he lifted me back up on my feet. The first thing I did was slap his across the face and I hid my face.

"I-I'm so sorry! What..why did you-"

Buggy began to chuckle to himself as he held onto the spot I had hit him. His lipstick was smeared around his lips, and it was a bit hard ti tell if I let a mark on his face.

"You're still annoying and hard to please. You haven't changed quite much, (Y/N). Now..Where is my map?!"

I furrowed my eyebrows and leaned closer to look at him. All of the sudden Buggy took a step back and froze.

"Buggy…sorry I don't know what you mean-"

"Ugh I knew it! That damn Shanks probably told you to forget about me. He always does things like this."

I crossed my arms over my chest and tilted my head. "Shanks you know him?! Wait…" I thought hard and suddenly remembered a certain memory of myself, Shanks and Buggy.

"Now I remember! You took a few punches once when-"

"When a guy threatened to toss you out into the sea." Buggy ended my sentence and sighed.

I started up at the clown and wondered how I had forgotten about him. "We used to hang out didn't we? The three of us."

"Yeah until I was left alone! Shanks returned one day without you, saying how he wanted you to have s nice and decent life, not a pirates one which I thought was bullshit."

"Language." I warn and smirked afterwards.

Buggy sighed and now looked at me up and down. "You really grew up, (Y/N)."

"Flashily I suppose?" I said giving a twirl and giving a wink. "But seriously, did you kidnap us just so you can have the map?"

"That map belongs to me! Not to some prepubescent boy who doesn't know what it's like to be a pirate. Why are you with him anyways?" He asked leaning his back onto the wall and crossing his arms.

"I made a promise to my brother, Shanks. That I would look after him."

"So you're a babysitter then? That's great." Buggy rolled his eyes as he said that and started to take his gloves off. "Really suits your character." He laughed.

I squinted my eyes at him and looked at him from head to know. "Never thought you would go with the whole creepy clown look. You look like you would eat children." I joke.

"I eat others things… I let the whole raw meat thing to my buddy you met back on stage."

Great. So not only are they all supposed to be freaks, but he has a cannibal among them. What else has he been up to for these last couple of years?

"Gross. How many times have you taken advantage of some poor girl..or boy."

"Don't be ridiculous. I would never take advantage of someone if they were against it. And those who accept?"

"Well, let's say we have a pretty good time." He grinned pulling himself back up straight and seeing me fake throwing up.

"Ew.. I did not need that image in my head."

"Don't tell me you're still a virgin! Someone like you? Traveling the sea?!"

I looked around at where he had taken me. Making sure to look well even if it was kinda dark, only a few candles here and there with a vanity mirror and a few makeup scattered around, a small bed with the same lights messily clinging above the room.

"Where's Luffy?"

"Now you're avoiding the question!"

"Just tell me where he is with his ginger girl and broccoli guy!" I said trying me my best to not seem nervous, but really wanting to know if they were safe.

"I'll gladly tell you, once you tell where my map is!" He shouted and seemed to quickly compose himself and curse under his breath.

Buggy dramatically sighed and sat down on the edge of his bed. "Rubber boy is fine, he's entertaining my guests. Other two are with Cabaji."

My eyes looked back at the entrance and worried about the people being held hostage, I even spotted a poor dog with an older man, probably the owner saving the last thing he has, "What about the people?"

"What people?"

"The towns people, you idiot. You have to let them go." I said hoping he'd listen.

Buggy jumped up and began to laugh. "Sure! I'll do it right now, wanna help me?"

I frowned looking at him and was thinking if there's some way I can somehow release some of them. I really need Luffy's help…I decided to be straight and harsh with him.

"No matter how many people you hold captive. You'll never make people love you."

I felt a bit intimidated by his stare when Buggy took steps closer to me and cornered me against the vanity mirror. I looked to the side and felt his stare on me.

"Don't think you'll get a pass out of this, sweetheart. You're doing this so I can let your little friends go." Buggy lowly spoke as he took his ungloved hands and wrapped one around my neck.

"You seriously think that I would take advantage of you?" I question looking back up at him and saw a cold stare on his face.

"I think you're the one wanting to take advantage of me. You want to know where the map is. Well, I won't tell you, because I don't know. Thanks to your bombs I collapsed before I got the chance to see where or who got it."

"And why should I trust you? We don't know each other well." He sang being sarcastic as ever.

"You like playing games don't you? Maybe I can show you that I am telling the truth." I said and smiled.

Buggy frowned and gave me a harsh stare. I reached my hand down to his pants beginning to unbutton the first few buttons. His breathing hitched and I could feel him freeze when I touched him.

"It's been years since I saw you. We were kids..I'm sorry I forgot about you. Shanks only wanted what was best for me-"

Buggy instantly grabbed my wrists making me stop and look back at him when with his other hand he grabbed my face.

"Shanks being selfish as ever. Did he ever wonder what was best for me? He's taken everything from me, and now I have you back." He grinned and now grabbed the back of my head.

He placed his hand under my chin and I could see his blue pupils darken. I closed my eyes when Buggy leaned down to kiss me again. I felt him move my hair aside and leaving quick kisses down my neck and collarbone.

I gripped onto his shirt tight and began to kiss his lips again, ignoring how I would end up stained in his makeup. Quickly it began to deepen with me slipping out a moan when I felt his hands on my stomach and felt his pants getting tighter.

I moaned into the kiss when I felt him begin to get rid of my upper half clothes and began to palm my chest. Buggy's kisses began to lower until he reached down my breasts while his other hand played with my other one. While he was busy I started to reach my hand down to his pants beginning to unbutton the first few buttons. His breathing hitched and I could feel him freeze when I touched him.

"It's been years since I saw you. We were kids..I'm sorry I forgot about you. Shanks only wanted what was best for me-"

Buggy instantly grabbed my wrists making me stop and look back at him when with his other hand he grabbed my face.

"Shanks was being selfish as ever. Did he ever wonder what was best for me? He's taken everything from me, and now I have you back." He grinned and now grabbed the back of my head.

He smiled as he placed his hand under my chin and I could see his blue pupils darken. I shivered when I felt his hands beginning to move lower into my pants, until his fingers started to tease my nub.

My breathing hitched and a moaned almost escaped from my mouth, quickly I covered my mouth which made it seem like it was irritating Buggy. With my mouth still covered I saw him beginning to lower himself down on his knees. Quickly he got rid of my pants quick and slowly pulled down my underwear.

I've never been this exposed to someone. I began to cover myself but Buggy held my hands back and he began to leave a few bits down along my thighs until I saw him begin to part my legs. I leaned my back against the vanity mirror making all the things that were on it fall to the ground.

"You are so beautiful, (Y/N)." I heard Buggy say when he saw me naked before him.

Buggy began to lick his smudged lips and I gasped when he grabbed my thigh and placed it on his shoulder. I threw my head back when I saw stick his tongue out and gave a slow and long lick to my entrance, he followed it with another lick until Buggy was swirling his tongue. I loud moan escaped from mouth when I couldn't hold it it anymore.

His nose would occasionally brush against my clit, causing my body to twitch and strain against him. Buggy's other hand continued to thrust his fingers inside me while he pressed his thumb against my nub. "Buggy..” I moaned lowly. My hand continuing to grab his hair tugging at it slightly, causing him to growl right into my cunt again. "I'm gonna-" I squeezed my eyes shut when he thrusted his fingers faster for me to come.

I began to buck my hips forward and continued to tug onto his blue hair which has been tied up. I squeezed my eyes tights and cried out in pleasure when I felt something build inside of me, and when I finally came, I felt my legs about to give out.

Buggy quickly wiped his messy face and quickly stood up and held me close to him. Holding me so I wouldn't fall.

"Not so fast, sweetheart. It's my turn." I was still coming back to reality when Buggy pushed me down on my knees and I was met with his long and big- "There's no way its gonna fit." I thought looking at him.

"Why don't you use your pretty mouth, (Y/N)?" Buggy hummed slipping his thumb into my mouth before pulling it away. I looked down at him and my entire face got red seeing him completely undressed now. What would people say if they saw me about to fuck a clown.

Suddenly I began to feel nervous as I watched him begin to stroke himself a bit until he began to guide his member closer to my mouth, his other hand running through my hair lovingly.

I did what I suppose I am to do, I opened my mouth sticking my tongue out. Buggy wasted no time and he began to gently fuck my mouth. I hummed when I tasted him and heard him groan above me as I took in more of him and took him out with a pop.

I reached my hands out to pump the rest that couldn't fit in when I took him back again and began to gag when he began to fuck my mouth faster. Buggy gripped my head tight and suddenly pulled be back leaving a string of saliva connected to him. I shrieked when he suddenly began to carry me onto the bed.behind him.

Buggy quickly getting rid of his remaining clothes and grabbed my ankles to part my legs when he got on top of me, his hands gripped my hips as he guided his dick between my folds. I shivered when I felt him toying with me and kept on teasing me before he grabbed himself again and began to slide in.

Both of us moaned when he slid deep inside of me. Buggy cursed a few words and he stayed still for a minute, before he began to thrust into me at a rough pace. He slid deep in me with ease as my juices coated his cock. I moaned out and looked to the side feeling shy again, my breasts bouncing with every hard thrust he did as I felt his fingers rubbing my clit harshly.

Again I felt that familiar sensation returning I clenched around his cock as I interlaced my fingers with Buggy when I felt that snap again and my vision got blurry for a second. I began to feel overstimulation when his hands buried into my hair again until one of his hands reached down my neck. His pace became even rougher and faster, making me come closer to my climax again

"B-Buggy!"

I began to cry when he learned down to whisper dirty things into my ear, his playful self no longer present in the room. Tears streamed down my cheeks as he continued to fuck me. Buggy reached down to rub my clit harshly, making me come again and stain the sheets beneath us. And just when I thought we were done, Buggy flipped me so my stomach would be facing the bed and my back facing him.

Another moan escaped from me when I felt a harsh smack against my ass and felt his hands grab my ass and stretching me to take him in better. At this angle I could feel him closer.

I shut to eyes shut and continued to moan and cry every time he would thrust into me. I bit my lips tight as I felt his harsh thrust inside of me. I reached down myself and stated to circle my finger over my clit, the friction along with this man's rough thrusts making my mind go blank as I rested the side of my face onto the bed.

"Buggy..I-I'm.." I cried out when I felt Buggy holding onto my hips tighter pulling me back against him.

I heard Buggy softly laughing as he watched the faces and moans I made. One last moan and cry came out of me when I came hard. I still felt extremely sensitive when I felt Buggy holding onto me tight until we both gasped, I grasped onto the sheets when I felt forward a bit and felt him getting closer

Buggy gripped onto me tight and moaned close to my ear when he came inside of me. I fell forward and began to shake at what happened. Slowly, Buggy pulled himself out.

I got myself comfortable laying on my side and felt something still slowly dripping out of me. I was too tired to speak or to even look back at the blue haired clown.

Last thing I felt was Buggy rubbing my hips and planting a kiss a quick kiss on my head before I watched him leave the bed. Too tired to question anything, I decided to shut my eyes for a quick nap and felt something warm being placed on top of me.

"(Y/N)! You're safe..where the heck where you?!" Luffy questioned seeing my tired face. "Where you kept locked up? Buggy didn't hurt you did he?!" Luffy grabbed my shoulders and began to shake me.

"Luffy! Now's not the time!" I said not wanting anyone to touch me at how sore I felt. I looked at the young boy and smiled, "…I-I'm fine. None of you got hurt?" I asked genuinely concerned for them.

Though I have no idea what had happened since I had blacked out. I only remember falling asleep and well, waking up alone and pulling away from some curtains and making my way outside of the huge tent. That bastard clown. How dare he leave me.

Everyone of the towns people were set free and thanking Luffy for his help. Everyone genuinely seemed happy and very grateful. That way they know that not every pirates are bad.

"Nothing we couldn't handle." Zoro calmly replied walking past me.

"Kicking the clowns ass was fun. You should've seen it." Nami told me after.

They defeated him then? I sigh and smiled looking at Luffy and pulled his straw hat down and chuckled. There's no way he can't know what happened between that clown and I. That fucking clown will pay if I were to see him again.

I looked over at my friend and smiled at him. "You did great Luffy."

I followed Luffy to the ship and saw him waving at everyone where the ship began to sail. We all got busy and I sat down rethinking what the hell I did back there.

Luffy came over and smiled sitting next to me. "Are you sure you're fine? I swear I heard you crying."

My blood ran cold and I grew pale. I noticed Luffy's worried look and he quickly placed his hand over my forehead.

"Are you sick? Don't tell me you're getting sea sick all of the sudden."

"…Nope. I'm sorry I shouldn't worry you. Nothing happened." I lie straight at his innocent face.

The boy smiled and nodded his head. "If you say so! Let me know if you feel any better."

I nodded my head and saw Luffy run over to the front of the boat. I turned around and spotted Nami and Zoro shaking their heads at me.

[arkhammaid]

— ˚₊‧⁺˖THE LIGHTNING ON TRACK | THE GRID'S REACTION

fandom. formula one & mcu

about. the grid reacts to the news!

content warnings. some drivers are acting like assholes, some cursewords, 23!grid

notes. have another reaction chapter hehe

daniel ricciardo Guys

Guys wake up

IT'S IMPORTANT

lando norris ???

daniel it's 5am, why are you spamming rn

carlos sainz It's summer break, why can't you all shut up for once

daniel ricciardo Did no one see the news? Stark is coming to F1

carlos sainz To a race?

daniel ricciardo No you shithead, he's making a team

charles leclerc !!!!

lando norris at this point you'll never win monaco (because once stark joins, there no longer will BE monaco) charles leclerc Fuck you, nowins

daniel ricciardo This is serious... Tony fucking Stark wants to create an F1 team for the next season. @/max verstappen your winning streak will be over

charles leclerc Next season??? I thought for 26?

lewis hamilton Of course he would do that

charles leclerc Lewis, explain?? daniel ricciardo Yeah Lewis, please explain?

lewis hamilton Did any of you ever meet Tony? He will probably see the next season as test for the 2026 season. To train his mechanics and engineers and go all out. I bet many are saying it's a waste of money

carlos sainz It is a waste of money.

daniel ricciardo Yeah, they do. Reactions vary but 'experts' are saying that Tony is just wasting his time and should properly prepare for 26

lewis hamilton Knowing him, he already has a fully built car for 2026 and it's a beast.

fernando alonso Only the best for his daughter!

charles leclerc What. lando norris wdym his daughter??

george russell Why are you all awake at this bloody hour?

kevin magnussen Read the room. Everyone is in schock.

sergio perez Stupid. She will fail like every woman in motorsport with a rich father. Too dramatic.

lando norris i'm still confused???

oscar piastri Tony Stark has three children. Harley Keener-Stark, Y/n L/n-Stark, Peter Parker-Stark. Y/n is his only biological child and currently racing in Formula 3. She won Formula 4 last year.

charles leclerc I thought he only had sons?? When did Y/n appear? oscar piastri She 'appeared' the first time in January this year as Tony's daughter, no one knew before. lando norris how did you know? oscar piastri Google exists.

carlos sainz So daddy's money... great.

max verstappen I swear to god I will leave this chat the next time you all decide to fucking gossip at 6am like old women

daniel ricciardo It's important news!

max verstappen No it's not. Stark will be in F1 for a few years maximum and then leave again. It will pass

daniel ricciardo @/lewis hamilton you here? Don't you have anything else to add??

Fine, I'll guess I just ask the rest of the grid, you fucking bore.

daniel ricciardo @/everyone wakey wakey, it's time to wake up and talk!

mick schumacher Daniel? What's up?

george russell Ignore him. He has been annoying us because Tony Stark is coming to F1 and no one really cares. charles leclerc Lies and slander! I care!! lando norris yeah! me as well, idk what you're yapping abt

carlos sainz It's bullshit.

arthur leclerc Why do I have a bad feeling about Monaco...

ollie bearman THAT'S WHAT I'VE BEEN THINKING bianca bustamante It will be something for sure

lance stroll Well, I'm just happy to see another friendly face at the paddock :)

carlos sainz Of course you know Stark.

lance stroll You're just jealous esteban ocon As am I??? I'm your best friend AND MY BEST FRIEND HAS THE POTENTIAL OF KNOWING SPIDER-MAN???? AND YOU DIDN'T TELL ME???????

daniel ricciardo I want everyone who knows anything related to Stark to immediately share with us because Lewis is ignoring me and I need to know. The only info we have right now, is that Stark will make a F1 team and that's it. I refuse to believe that's it. So, @/mick schumacher @/lance stroll spill the beans.

mick schumacher He didn't say anything last time I saw him, so I can't help you much.

lance stroll I know nothing, ask my dad.

daniel ricciardo I don't believe you.

pato o'ward If they say they don't know anything, then they don't? I don't know what's the problem, just wait for the next press release

max verstappen Do you even know Daniel. He's unable to wait for gossip. And he classifies this as gossip

daniel ricciardo Gee, thanks, feeling the love here

nico hülkenberg I wake up to 100+ notifications, why are you all like this?

kevin magnussen They're all idiots.

kevin magnussen @/tony stark could you please speed up with the press release? Daniel is setting all grid chats on fire and it's not funny anymore.

y/n stark ha, weak ass bitch kevin magnussen Watch your mouth missy

tony stark Should I tag Seb in a Tweet to announce it?

peter stark do it y/n stark do it harley stark do it

pepper potts-stark Don't do it. We will proceed with the plan. No matter how annoying the people in your private life are.

kevin magnussen Yes, ma'am, sorry for asking.

sebastian vettel I deserve more than a Tweet at 10am.

y/n stark speak your truth king peter stark sorry for suggesting otherwise (@/yn stark stop being such an attention seeker, we all know seb loves charles the most) y/n stark but charles is not here rn is he?

daniel ricciardo @/kevin magnussen EXPLAIN YOURSELF?!

carlos sainz What is going on now...

charles leclerc KMAG FOR STARK???? I didn't put this on my bingo card, now I lost 100 bucks. Fuck you Kevin

arthur leclerc Pay up bitch

oscar piastri Well done, man

nico hülkenberg And so he leaves he burning, ever sinking ship... the true hero- sorry, I meant coward

daniel ricciardo @/kevin magnussen I KNOW YOU'RE ONLINE YOU COWARD, COME HERE

I just want to talk to you

kevin magnussen No.

*kevin magnussen has left the chat*

fernando alonso There is your answer

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