#I LOVE YOU CARBOHYDRATE

[puyopuyoconfessions]

Girl dinner

[its-not-a-pen]

First day as an early-3rd-century warlord and I am fighting in the bloodiest civil war of my country’s history. Very few records were kept during this time and even fewer have survived, but I am one of the only people of my era to have an accurate, physical description that was verified by multiple sources. Was it because of my meteoric rise from sandal-weaver to king? My heroic exploits? My compassion for the downtrodden? No. it was because my contemporaries would NOT stop roasting me about my extremely big, stupid-looking ears.

[lexicog]

ohhh LOL i get it im getting April Fooled (lol!). trans day orf visibility is tomorrow.

[savageboar]

speaking of metformin ive been considering trying to take it to improve my a1c but im concerned about the side effects and the correlation it seems to have with alzheimers and parkinsons. at least ill be seeing my doctor at the end of the month and ill ask him if there's a better medication for blood sugar. ive also been learning how to monitor my blood sugar with a testing machine. im trying to take it more seriously as i get older i guess lol

[ivy-elle]

"What are you even talking about?"

Or: How they react to you being overly intoxicated aka drunk af

Feat. Albedo, Scaramouche

Notes: No mentions of vomiting, do not worry

Version ft. Xiao and Kaeya

“You… are like totally the most beautiful being on this earth. How is that even legal?”

Your drunk-hazed gaze looks up at him, an admiring, nearly even mesmerised expression on your face.

Albedo stifles a surprised laugh behind a cough, his fist concealing his soft smile. “Thank you, y/n. Why don’t you sit down first?”

Obediently, you follow along as he gently guides you to the couch, the slight grin not wanting to leave your face. Even less, when he crouches down in front of you, studying you with intent focus. He can’t help the slight concern slipping into his expression as he reaches out to brush a strand of hair from your face.

Meanwhile, you seem to have the time of your life with him being so close to you, with his gentle touch, like you’re something delicate.

How is it even real that you are able to call him your friend – let alone your partner. Like, your very own!

Just the way his crystal-like eyes follow yours, his shimmering hair catching the faint light of the room, down to how pretty his lips move when he speaks…

Wait. Right. He speaks. Listen.

Focus.

Right.

“If you’re able to eat right now, I suggest getting some carbohydrates into your system, my love,” he explains, gently tilting your face. “That way we can nudge your blood level back to normal again.”

You barely contain a silly giggle at his tender touch. “I’d eat straight-up eat wheat right now if you asked me to.”

Albedo nods, very slowly, his brows furrowing as he ponders about how to handle this situation best. “I see. Well, that’s not quite what I had in mind.” And yet, a part of him can’t help but be fascinated by your responses. “Would you be satisfied with some toast instead?”

You hum airily, but the moment he lifts himself up you feel your face fall into a pout, immediately missing his warmth.

“Wait,” you quickly try to prevent him from leaving. “On second thought – I am not even that hungry. You can keep staying here. Sitting.”

“I will remain here.” He slips his fingers from yours, a smile tugging his lips. “See? I am just across the room.” You should eat something to prevent some serious hungover.”

You watch him quietly, nearly enchanted by his smooth movements as he prepares some snacks, listening to his soothing voice. Has he always had this effect on you? You can’t tell. You can’t even care less right now.

“Personally, I’ve never experienced a hangover myself, but it starts right after the alcohol level in your blood starts to drop. And given your state…” He offers you a plate with some fresh toast and light fruits, “I presume it’s best to take precautions now.”

“Thank you,” you murmur fondly, accepting the plate. To your relief, Albedo joins you on the couch.

“Slowly. Take your time.”

“Maybe I was starving a bit. Archons, this is good.”

Albedo chuckles softly, gently taking your hand in his. You feel his thumb lightly tracing along your wrist before it settles on your pulse.

Your turn toward him, tilting your head in confusion. “I am still alive. I think.”

His eyes crinkle, soft musing laced in his voice. “Yes, I can see that, my love. I am merely checking your heart rate.”

Albedo looks you over and the moment your eyes meet his again, you feel your heart rate slightly quicken beneath his fingers.

His frown turns into a soft smile. “You’re feeling alright?”

“If you keep touching me this way, I’ll feel even better.” You hum, your eyes drifting to his lips.

But before you can follow your impulses, Albedo draws back, gently pushing you back by your shoulder. “Forgive me, love, but I’d rather you be sober first.”

Now you can’t help but pout, your face scrunching up. “That’s a bit excessive.”

Amused but persisting, he shakes his head, but not before leaning in and to place a soft kiss on your temple.

“Eat up. I’ll set up some tea and antidote for your headache.”

“I see you’ve lost your mind entirely,” Scaramouche remarks dryly as he halts at the doorway.

“Shhh. I need to focus,” you murmur, not even bothering to look up from where you’re lying on the ground. The room is cloaked in darkness - all windows are drawn shut to prevent any lights from falling inside, and disturbing work of art.

Scaramouche’s gaze darts to the perfectly good bed right beside you. Why, in Teyvat’s name, would you prefer the cold, hard floor? Hasn’t his day been eventful enough as it is already?

“Look at this,” you whisper again, and Scaramouche raises an eyebrow as your Electro Vision flickers to life again. His eyes follow your gaze to the ceiling, where charged threads of Electro dance in a chaotic disorder, illuminating the room in soft purple light. But your attention is glued on the lights, absolutely fascinated by this spectacle.

He steps closer, a pinched expression on his face. “Why don’t you-“

Before he can finish, you reach out, snatching his wrist and pulling him down next to you.

“Look!” you repeat once more.

Obviously, you’re only able to actually move him, because he lets you. But he does not lay down on the ground – who do you think he is? Instead, he crouches down next to you, fixing you with a look, like you’ve lost it entirely. His eyes narrow as he notices your abnormally flushed face, grasping that something is not quite right with you.

But you’re completely ignoring his unsettled expression, rather lifting your hand again to tilt his chin upward, directing his to the ceiling. “Listen to the sky, Scara,” you explain in a tone like it’s supposed to clear up everything.

Listen to the sky?

Scaramouche’s eyes dart down to you again, irritation building up inside him now. He dislikes this - having you physically here, but at the same time you not acting like yourself.

“What the hell is going on with you?”

Your eyebrows scrunch up as you turn your head toward him, like you’re pouting that he isn’t taking your lightning show as serious as he should. “You’re always complaining how fake the sky of Teyvat is. So, I recreated it. Now you have your own. Or, my own. Like – ours, I guess.”

For the sake of his pride, Scaramouche quickly schools his face. A strange combination of confusion, irritation and at the same time a strange warmth settles in his chest. His eyes flicker over your slightly dazed features.

“You’re drunk,” he states flatly, trying to sound unbothered.

For that he earns yet another. “Shhh!” This time a small, but sheepish grin tugs at your lips.

For a moment his eyes linger on you, before he tears them away, letting his gaze return to the ceiling. Now that he’s seeing the purple mist of electro from this angle, your perspective…

“How fake can it be, if I created it myself?”

At the sound of your gentle whisper, he feels his resolve weakening, eyes flickering between the charged branches, now finally taking form on the ceiling.

You created … a sky. For him alone.

Then, even softer, as if to not drive him away, you add, “Sometimes you need to be a bit intoxicated to see the world differently.”

Scaramouche stretches his legs out, leaning back on his elbows. “The ground was the best solution you had?” But there is no real bite in his voice, he is way too immersed in the little universe you’ve created in the room.

For him, his own Electro Delusion has always been nothing more than a tool – a means to gain power. To destroy. Yet, here you are again, showing him the other side of the coin, proving, that in destruction lies its own universe of creation.

“You smell nice,” he hears you mutter suddenly, breaking him through his trails of thoughts.

Of course, you’d say something like this right now. Without looking at you, He doesn’t look at you the corner of his mouth twitches. “I know. You, on the other hand, have had better days.”

You gasp, pushing him away lightly. “Rude! I do not smell bad!”

“You reek of alcohol. It’s onerous.”

He hears you grumble something incoherent under your breath, slurring the words into a mess.

Unimpressed, he clicks his tongue. “Consequences of your own actions.”

But as you shift to stand back up, the electro particles above start to dissolve as well. Almost immediately, his hand grabs your wrist, holding you close. “Stay down.”

You stare at him. Then you blink once. Twice. And then a shit-eating-grin spreads on your lips. “Oho! So, you do like my sky. Ha!”

A scoff escapes him as he tries to act nonchalant and averts his eyes back to the ceiling. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. I simply prefer not having you stumbling around the room like a drunk sailor, just because you don’t know your limits. Which seem to be quite low.”

You sit back down, not without grouching a quiet “Jerk.”

“Idiot.”

The two of you glare at each other, daring the other to say something. Eventually, you relent, rising your hands and bringing the lighting to life once more.

Scaramouche remains quiet, savouring your presence for a second longer. Before he looks back at the stars again.

Who needs a fake sky, if a whole universe is right there beside him already?

Thank you so much for reading! Comments and reblogs are so appreciated <3

[hopeastrz]

LIBRA THROUGH THE HOUSES: where you adorn the world with a touch of grace♡₊˚ 🎀・₊✧

CHECK OUT SEPTEMBER SALE: fixed price on any and all of my readings 17 DOLLARS only.

TIP: could also apply to your venus placement!, also graceful as in where or how you’re known to be the most beautiful!

NOTE thank you so much for your support, you can check my master-list here, lots of love xoxo!!♡˚₊‧���˖

LIBRA IN THE 1ST HOUSE | LIBRA DEGREES 7°, 19° ON THE AC:

Starting off strong with the divas, the queens and models, the placement of the best looking women i’ve ever encountered, you’re so graceful in the way you handle yourself, the way you walk and present yourself. You may have a very beautiful waist, jaws and butt, sorry to be so upfront but good googly moogly that thang is juicy af, ehem.. your presence is just so adorable and attractive, your outward behavior is always graceful and your physical appearance is on point!, i really love the way you guys dress!, you’re known to have a beautiful face and looks!.

LIBRA IN THE 2ND HOUSE | LIBRA DEGREES 7°, 19° ON THE 2ND HOUSE:

The food you cook can never be missed, i just love how you decorate your food and always make sure it looks beautiful, like using pretty plates and utensils with pastel colors, but umm.. please make sure your food tastes as good as it looks, (please don’t come for me) you guys tend to also prefer eating in aesthetically pleasing restaurants and cafés, you might prefer perfumes with vanilla scents (since vanilla is ruled by venus) and somehow you’re make up is always so flawless (tell me why??? What’s your secret!?? Sold your soul to the devil????) you my also have pretty wallets, oh and very beautiful material possessions, like paintings, antiques, and also your music taste is one of the best things about you, lastly your voice is quite charming and graceful, it may be kinda low or soft on the ears.

LIBRA IN THE 3RD HOUSE | LIBRA DEGREES 7°, 19° ON THE 3RD HOUSE:

The type of people to drive oh so gracefully, always making sure to follow the rules and have their passengers feel oh so welcomed and comfortable throughout the ride, you may keep snacks in your car, always need to have it smell beautiful, always have your favorite music blasting around the car, you’re the type to decorate it cars with charms and cute aesthetic things.. you may also have been known in your school, you might’ve been popular or you school in general is popular and looks beautiful!, also your neighborhood might’ve looked very nice too, and you’re known around there to be a beauty!.

LIBRA IN THE 4TH HOUSE | LIBRA DEGREES 7°, 19° ON THE 4TH HOUSE:

THE BEST BAKERS I KNOW, QUEENS AND KINGS OF CARBOHYDRATES AND VANILLA, STOP BECAUSE WHY ARE YOUR BROWNIES AND COOKIES SO DELICIOUS HELLO? we need to have a serious conversation after you give me all of your recipes, also why does your houses and room look so beautiful?, you are the real masters of interior design, like you really know the tips, tricks and the just right color schemes to bring out the best out of every space!, you may also have the best home in the neighborhood or have the best apartment throughout the residency. You may also prefer a minimal aesthetic looking self care products even if they weren’t even benefiting, and you may be the best looking member of your family, you’re the image of it, or all of your family members are quite beautiful, i do believe too that this placement indicates having a beautiful spouse!. Also not to sound like a creep but beautiful chests? Breasts? and it’s not even about the size, im talking about the shape in general (ughh don’t ask me how i know i just do)

LIBRA IN THE 5TH HOUSE | LIBRA DEGREES 7°, 19° ON THE 5TH HOUSE:

Beautiful boyfriends?, you really tend to choose people whom you hookup with carefully, if they’re not good looking bye bye to them (not everyone ofc, beauty definition is diverse to people) you’re known to go to places that look very beautiful and sophisticated for vacations?, also your art!, one of the most elegant and creative art makers you’ll meet in your life, you also may love drawing or painting as a hobby, just any soft and Venusian hobby and practice, maybe even you’re a make up artist!, also you’re hair is known to be the most beautiful about you!.

LIBRA IN THE 6TH HOUSE | LIBRA DEGREES 7°, 19° ON THE 6TH HOUSE.

Pilates princesses?, yes yes yes, i feel like you’re the type who look very beautiful while training since you might prefer low impact practices like yoga and pilates, very graceful while you workout, no sweat or any bad smell and you always have a cup in your to stay hydrated, and it kinda makes since because you’re a taurus rising!, people may enjoy going to different kind of workout practices with you, and you might also be known around your coworkers to be very handsome or charming, you may be the most beautiful one in your company, also you might be the type to dress your dogs or pets in general and groom their hair and build pink houses for them or treat them like your babies!, also your bodies are very beautiful, waist area is very charismatic!.

LIBRA IN THE 7TH HOUSE | LIBRA DEGREES 7°, 19° ON THE DC.

The father of your children, or your spouse may be quite beautiful, or you’re the one who’s known to be a beautiful housewife/spouse!, really charming, if you ever decide to start a business it may be generally focused on venusian themes, like art, clothes, perfumes, makeup etc… you may also hear things like ‘your taste in men/woman’ is very beautiful etc. your spouse may also find you very beautiful, and of you wanna uncover your hidden enemies see who are close to your spouse, who tend to copy your looks subtly.

LIBRA IN THE 8TH HOUSE | LIBRA DEGREES 7°, 19° ON THE 8TH HOUSE.

Well well should i really pinpoint the obvious?, sexy queens and kings, your kinks may involve art in some sorts or ways?, like painting on each others bodies idk, very ‘lady on the streets freak in the sheets’ placement, you may also be known to have a beautiful kitty, also you’re usually sucker for future spouse readings pacs and astrology content on tumblr lmao, keep feeding your delusions my ladies because you may really manifest your ideal one!, you may also make plastic surgeries to fulfill the ideal image you have for yourself (pisces rising).

LIBRA IN THE 9TH HOUSE | LIBRA DEGREES 7°, 19° ON THE 9TH HOUSE.

You may have studied arts in university or architecture and even law, studies that involved beauty and art, or literature and law, you probably went to one of the most prestigious universities, or your uni looked beautiful, has beautiful sceneries. You also prefer to read rom coms or erotic novels for some reason, you really love romance, and also you may travel to specific countries because they’re known to be beautiful and artistic, like France for example, you probably fit every country beauty standards!, (because of the Aquarius rising, fit every country standards but your own)

LIBRA IN THE 10TH HOUSE | LIBRA DEGREES 7°, 19° ON THE MC.

The most beautiful woman around the workplace and in your career idc, oh also you might like dating people from work, especially those who has a higher position than you!, like your bosses for example, you also may work with some really beautiful people, like modeling career for example!, you work with beautiful woman or even celebrities, also you may have a really graceful and admired public image!, your career also pays you quite generous amounts of money, salary may be good!!, and you may be lucky in this area, you catch people’s attention easily because of how beautiful you are, and also your long term goals may involve marriage, finding/becoming the ideal spouse or change your looks.

LIBRA IN THE 11TH HOUSE | LIBRA DEGREES 7°, 19° ON THE 11TH HOUSE.

The regina George of your friends group and the Zendaya of social media, blessed with grace and beauty, also good company!. Whatever you do you may see people do the same, i know someone who had this placement back in Highschool and she used to wear glasses, whenever she changed them her friends who also wore glasses always loved to get the same glasses as hers lmao and she had a girl who copied her. you also might be known to be very creative and aesthetic on social media, if you have a personal account or a random account for whatever topic you will make sure it looks aesthetically pleasing, you’ll be told things as ‘your feed so aesthetic’ etc.. you also love taking care of your bio and make sure your posts match each other, also i believe this is one of the trendsetter indicators placement!.

You are really so kind and iconic to the point that whoever enters your life becomes better looking and take care of themselves, it seems like they’ve had a drastic glow up after meeting you because of really how iconic you are, you might also open their eyes onto things they’ve never known, think about it.. how many person changed their style because of you?.

LIBRA IN THE 12TH HOUSE | LIBRA DEGREES 7°, 19° ON THE 12TH HOUSE.

Sleeping beauties?, is your second name princess aurora?, im not even kidding when i say you sleep beautifully, like for real, you barley toss and turn while sleeping, if you for example slept on your right side you without any doubt will wake up in the exact same position, you guys rarely snore, talk or even do anything that might be considered annoying while sleeping, also you know these people who wake up with perfect hair and a fresh face in the morning?, that’s you!. You may also appear in your lovers dreams a-lot, or your husband in case you’re married, you might excel in fulfilling other people’s fantasy about you too because may appear to be the picture perfect partner or the ideal trophy wife, and your enemies may be people whom you’ve had a close romantic relationship with or your business partners, and conflicts may end in court.

also this might be kinda random but do you cook seafood the best or like love it the most?, and also do you make the best cocktails or drinks?, your past may be solely focused on romantic relationships or you have a constant fear of relationships going wrong.

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (49/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: Climbing up the mountain can be very freeing.

Warnings: angst (self-doubt, insecurities, mentions of abuse in a relationship, Charles is very insecure about himself), the end is a bit fluffy, but don't expect too much

Word Count: 4.1k

series masterlist

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A/N: I feel like this describes Charles well. I cried when writing this chapter. I hope you like it. feedback is appreciated.

It is the first time in years that Charles has no desire to climb the mountain on those stupid skis. 

His feet hurt, he is cold even though the jacket he is wearing is suitable for even colder temperatures, and his hands are so stiff from the frigid air that they painfully curl around his ski poles. 

The snow blinds him because of the bright sun, his bones feel heavy, somehow his mouth is so dry that he would like to rinse it with water every five meters.

But maybe that's just because he'd rather be at home in Monaco. Because that's where you are. And there is no place he would rather be right now. 

Closing the door behind him and leaving you alone in the apartment was incredibly difficult. He would have loved to put you in his bag and take you with him, but you would only have distracted him from training. 

And if he wants to be world champion one day, he can't afford to make any mistakes. 

It's been two days since he's seen you and heard your voice. In the morning, when he wakes up and gets ready for the day, you are still fast asleep, and during his training, Andrea has his phone so that Charles can collect his thoughts and stay focused. Only in the evening, when Charles is in bed, he manages to text you a few messages before falling asleep, cell phone in hand, completely exhausted. 

He misses you every second. 

Before he met you, he would never have imagined that he could miss someone he had only known for a few days so much. He had missed Annika from time to time, after all, he had definitely loved her at some point, but he had never longed for her or anyone else the way he did for you now. 

As soon as he has a moment to himself, whether it's in the shower or on the toilet or when Andrea isn't bothering him with calories or carbohydrates or protein for a moment, he misses you so much that he can almost feel the physical distance between you. 

But most of all, he misses you in the morning when he wakes up. When he is in that one second when he is neither sleeping nor fully awake. Snuggled up warm in the blanket and against the pillow, where in the evening he imagines it would be your body that he is snuggling up to. And in the morning, for a brief moment, it feels as if you are actually lying next to him, which is why the second he realizes that you are miles away from him hurts the most. 

“Are you okay?” Andrea asks, who has slowed down a little to run up the hill next to Charles. ”You're suspiciously quiet.”

Charles, who hasn't realized that he has slowed down at all, looks at his trainer in confusion. “Yes, I'm fine. Why do you ask?”

Andrea shrugs. ”Usually you're chattering away at me during training. That usually helps you to distract yourself from how exhausting it is.”

He has a point there. Charles pushes himself forward on his skis. “I don't know. This time I don't feel like you're torturing me up this mountain. It's still the same route we usually take, isn't it?” He looks around as if he can recognize the surroundings. 

Andrea raises his eyebrows and also picks up the pace. ‘We're in a completely different area, Charles.’ He points to another mountain with his gloved hand.

If his friend hadn't told him, the man from Monaco would never have noticed, so absorbed is he in his thoughts about you. The mountain Andrea is pointing to seems more familiar to him than the one in front of them. And a lot smaller. If they had taken the familiar route, they would have been at the summit long ago. 

“You asshole,” Charles curses and wipes his face. ‘Why did you choose a different mountain? And especially one that's higher?”

Andrea can't help but grin. ’You came in second in the championship this year. I'm hoping that if we increase your training, you'll come in first next season and...”

“And what?” Charles interrupts his trainer. "The whole thing is useless if my strategists and the whole team mess up so much during the race. I can train as much as I want. It won't work." He gets so caught up in it that he doesn't notice how quickly he pushes himself up the mountain on his skis. 

“Charles –”

“No, Andrea. This whole thing cost me the title. Wrong tires? Last-minute changes in the pit? What the hell?” he gets worked up. He knows that his anger is unfairly directed at the wrong person, after all Andrea is only there for Charles's well-being and not for what happens on the track, but it just comes spilling out. And he can't stop it. 

His ski poles dig deep into the white snow, which Charles barely notices. He only sees the summit in front of him and hears Andrea breathing loudly next to him as he continues to complain. 

“It's not right that I come in second because of such little things! If I had caused accidents, then at least it would have been my fault and I could have dealt with it more easily,” he says, annoyed. ”But what kind of stupid plans were these, anyway? Even a toddler could come up with a better strategy!”

Andrea, who knows full well that Charles needs to vent his anger, walks quietly beside him and lets the storm pass over him. It's not often that Charles gets this angry. And normally he blames himself, but he certainly doesn't take such serious mistakes on his head. 

Charles knows that making mistakes is an inevitable part of competition, and sometimes, they're the difference between standing at the top of the podium and finishing second. Being the runner-up in a championship can feel bittersweet – so close to victory, yet just short of it. 

Being second in the championship feels like a mix of pride and frustration. On one hand, Charles has achieved something incredible – outperforming almost everyone, proving his skill and showing that he deserves to sit in the red car with the horse on it. But on the other hand, there's that lingering thought inside of his head – he was so close. The tiniest mistakes, the small miscalculations in his strategies, or someone else having a slightly better day made the difference in the end. 

There's this ache inside of him, knowing he was almost the champion. The podium felt different when he looked up at Max Verstappen holding the trophy he desperately craved. Charles felt a lot of things in that moment – disappointment, regret and even anger – at himself, the situation, the team and at the margin that kept him from winning. 

“I could have won the title. Max will definitely win the next season too, as strong as Red Bull is. How will I ever live up to my reputation then?” He clenches his jaw. ”I feel like I'm stuck with what I'm doing now. And I'm doing my best, Andrea. I really am. But it's apparently not enough. Do you know how incredibly frustrating that is?”

Being second carries a unique weight – a strange middle ground between triumph and heartbreak. And hell, Charles heart broke with every race that put more distance between his and Max's points. He feels like a failure, like he failed his team, his family and friends. He failed his fans, that support him through every decision he makes on and off track, that defend him whenever he makes a mistake during races. 

And it haunts him. What if he had pushed just a little harder, made one less mistake, reacted a second faster? What if he made a different decision that would've outweighed the mistakes his team made? What if he became world champion in the famous red car he worked so hard to get into? The famous red car that his dad loved so much?

Disappointing his dad was the worst part of it all. It was a different kind of pain, heavy and crushing. It's not just about failing at something – Charles feels like he simply isn't good enough. Like he let someone down who believed in him. He could have been champion this year – he was so close to standing on top of the podium. What if he never gets this close to winning? What if he never holds the big trophy in his hands, dedicating it to his dad, who always wanted to see him drive in the Ferrari?

Charles' anger has been building up for so long that he doesn't know where to put it. If only he had concentrated more on the season and hadn't been so distracted by his personal problems - 

“And Annika. What a waste of time the whole thing was. I should never have gotten involved with her. I should have ended the relationship when I realized that she wasn't the one. When I realized that I couldn't give her the attention that a healthy relationship requires.”

Charles would never admit it, but Annika’s betrayal in their relationship cut deeper than expected. It’s not just about broken promises – it’s about broken trust, the foundation of any meaningful connection. It shook everything Charles believed to be true about Annika – or love in general. 

The worst part wasn’t the act itself or that he caught them right in the act, but the realization that someone he trusted with his heart made the choice to hurt him. After the break-up he questioned everything – was any of it real? Was Annika lying to him the whole time? Even after everything, the wounds linger. 

Some betrayals are survivable with time and effort, but others leave scars that never fully heal. They change people – it changed Charles. It hardened his heart, made love feel dangerous to him and made him create walls where there once was openness. 

He guarded himself like a survival instinct. At first, it was solely for protection – he told himself that if he didn’t let anyone in, nobody could hurt him. The walls became his shield, keeping out disappointment, rejection, and the risk of being vulnerable again. 

But over the course of the weeks, Charles noticed the walls he put up brick by brick didn’t just keep the pain out – they kept everything out. Love. Connection. The chance to feel something real. Hell, he didn’t even tell his Maman that he was back home in Monaco. He pushed his family away, his friends, acting cold and distant – not because he didn’t want love, but because he’s so scared of what happened when he let someone else in. 

It took Charles some time to figure out the truth, that the walls didn’t keep him safe and sound – they kept him stuck. They stopped him from healing, from growing, from experiencing the things that make life meaningful. But he was so scared of breaking them down when it took him so long to put them up, that he didn’t know what to do when he met you. 

It was terrifying, letting you in slowly and hesitantly. He’s spent so long guarding himself, convincing himself that no one except his close ones can be trusted, that it almost felt unnatural to let you in. At first, he resisted, kept his distance. But the fact that you didn’t even know who he was felt so good, made him feel safe to share his story with you and then – you stayed. You didn’t push too hard, but you didn’t walk away either. 

Surely, this friendship has had it’s ups and downs, but this is what happenes when two people, who protected themselves so much that they become too careful, too hesitant to let someone in fully. 

And instead of forcing your way through, you waited. You were there. You proved in small, consistent ways, that you’re not like the woman who made him built those walls in the first place. 

And then, without realizing it, he stopped expecting the worst. He let you see his wounds, his fears, his past, and instead of running, you stayed. You stayed with him through awkward dinner conversations about his ex, you stayed with him when he didn’t correct his family about your relationship status, you stayed when he overstepped the boundaries of your friendship. Your gentle touch, your honest conversations while burning Annika’s things. 

You stayed when he revealed to you who he really is. You see him – the real him – and don’t flinch at what you see. Little by little, cracks form in his defenses. He finds himself wanting to trust again, to love again, even though it scares him to death. 

When you look at him, it feels like sunlight creeping through the cracks in the fortress he thought were unbreakable. It was unsettling at first after being in the dark for some time. But you didn’t break down his walls in a dramatic, earth-shattering way. 

It was quiet. Subtle. It sneaked up to him in moments he didn’t even realize – they way you looked at him when he played your song on the piano in the bookshop, when you let him hold you while you cried like his arms were the safest place in the world, when you showed him that you want him for who he is. 

But even though you broke down most of his walls, he still can’t admit that you’re all he needs. 

He can’t let you in fully after what Annika did to him, he can’t let you touch him like he wants you to. He can’t let himself feel so much for you because what if those feelings he has for you – the feelings he swore he’d never harbour for anyone again – are not enough for you?

What if he gives you his all and you decide that it’s not enough? That he is not enough? He can’t tell you why he doesn’t want you to touch him, because what if you’ll see him differently? What if the things he wants, he needs, are different from what you want? 

He feels like he isn’t good enough. The scars Annika left on him made him question his worth, his value, his ability to be loved. There are moments where he feels too far gone, too damaged, not strong enough to break free from the fear of losing you that he’d rather keep you at arms length hurting himself than push you away and out of his life. 

He can’t let you touch him after Annika, because sex with her felt wrong, like he was broken because he wanted different things than her. Because he craved intimacy like his life depended on it, the safety that comes with it, but it always felt like he needed to deliver, even if he didn’t want to. It felt like a chore, no gentle touches or loving words, only demanding hands and lips and thighs and he swore to himself he’ll never let it happen again. 

If you don’t touch him at all, there’s no chance you could hurt him like that.

He’d rather give you all he’s able to give instead of letting you return anything.

“I could have waited for…”

“Charles.” Andreas‘ voice is gentle and soothing, in contrast to Charles’. When the man from Monaco looks at his friend, he smiles at him. ”We're here.”

The wind howls at the summit, biting and cold, but it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t feel it. He can’t feel anything except the weight that presses down on his chest. He stands there on top oft he world – and all the space in the world couldn’t quiet the chaos inside him. 

Andrea chose this route to help Charles clear his head, the mountain was supposed to be his escape, his victory. He climbed every inch of it, each slide of his skis pushing him further from the mess he feels inside. The view from the top is actually breathtaking: endless stretches of jagged peaks, skies that feel closer than ever. He should feel something – pride, accomplishment, freedom. But instead, there’s only the overwhelming silence that gnawed at him. 

For a moment, everything is still. He pulls his beanie and glasses from his head, closing his eyes and trying to ground himself in the beauty around him, but the images, the memories, everything – it all comes flooding back. The things he can’t outrun. The words that had been sad. The choices that had left him fractured and alone. 

A sob caught in his throat, sharp and unexpected and he falls to his knees in the white snow at his feet. The tries to fight it, but the tears come anyway – slow at first, then faster and harder. They burn against the cold wind, mixing with the salt of the sweat on his skin – and he can’t stop them. 

They stand for everything he hasn’t been able to say, everything he has be scared to face. He thought he could bury it, hide it behind the walls he built, behind the distance from it all. 

His hand tremble on his thighs, his chest tightening with every broken breath. His vision blurred, the edges oft he mountain fading into the background. It doesn’t matter that he’s at the top – he feels smaller than ever. The tears slip down his cheeks like a rush of a river too long dammed. 

„I’m not enough“, he whispered almost unaudibly. A confession only the mountains and his friend could hear. „I’m never going to be enough.“

The world stretched out before him, magnificent and indifferent, and in that moment, he realized that being on top oft he mountain didn’t mean escaping it all. He had climbed all this way, but he couldn’t outrun himself. The hurt, the mistakes, the weight of everything he’d buried deep inside. 

He doesnt flinch when he feels Andrea’s hand on his shoulder, gently squeezing and reassuring him that whatever he feels right now is okay. That the tears that fall down onto the snow have their right to exist after being bottled up for so long. 

The sobs faded, leaving him gasping for air in the stillness of the summit. He wiped his face, trying to wipe away the brokennes, but it lingered in his chest. His hands still trembling from the release, from the rawness that had bubbled to the surface. For a long moment, he just sits there, the wind biting at him, the emptiness inside him as a vast as the world stretched out before him. 

And then it hit him, like a sudden punch that knocked the breath from his lungs. 

You. 

Your laugh. Your smile. The way you always seem to know what he’s thinking, the way you care in the quietest ways – how you’ve been there for him, even when he pushed you away. How, despite everything, you stayed. 

He tried so hard to tell himself that he’s better off alone, that he doesn’t need anyone else to fill the empty spaces inside him. He thought he could bury his feelings, run from the truth. He has told himself that love was something to fear, something that could trap him, break him, leave him just as broken as he’d been before.

But now, sitting on top of the world, it all makes sense. 

He loves you. He always has. He can feel it in every part of him, the truth that has been there all along, buried under layers of fear and pride. It’s not something he can outrun, not anymore. He can’t ignore the way his heart always beats faster when you’re near, the way everything seems to fall into place when you smile at him, the way your presence has been the one thing that feels like home. 

The moment of realization hits him like a wave, sudden and overwhelming. It’s undeniable. 

He loves you.

Not in the casual, passing way he once tried to convice himself was enough for his relationship with Annika, but in a deeper, truer sense. It’s always been you – only you. Right from the start when the both of you stood in the small apartment. 

But the weight o fit, the sheer force of that truth, felt like it could crush him, especially when he realizes how long he’s been running from it. 

His heart races, pounding hard in his chest, but it isn’t the kind of excitement he thought would come with such a revelation. Instead, it is quiet terror. The terror of feeling too much. Of feeling anything at all. 

His breath comes in shallow gasps as the cold mountain air cuts through him. It isn’t the altitude or the wind that chills him – it’s the fear of being too vulnerable again. Of letting anyone close enough to hurt him. The thought of telling you, of exposing his raw, vulnerable part of himself, feels like standing on the edge of a cliff with no way to climb back down. 

He stares out over the vast horizon, the world stretching out endlessly beneath him, and for a moment, he considers it. The possibility of going back, of telling you everything he has just realized. But the thought of your eyes on him, the weight of the words, the vulnerability—it‘s too much. Too raw. Too dangerous.

So, he stays silent. He stays with the truth, buried deep inside of him. The love he feels for you is now his secret, locked away like a fragile thing, too delicate to share. He can‘t find the courage to let it out—not now, not after everything that had happened.

But there is something about knowing, about feeling it — just knowing that he can love again — that makes the world feel a little less heavy. It isn’t perfect, and it doesn‘t fix everything, but it is enough. For the first time in a long time, he doesn‘t feel so broken. He isn’t empty. He is filled with something — something soft, something he thought was gone forever.

Maybe he isn’t ready to tell you. Maybe he will never be ready. But the knowledge that love still exists in him — that it can still find him, even after everything — is enough to hold onto for now. It isn’t a victory, not in the way he wants, but it is a beginning. And in that, there is a quiet peace. A peace that, despite all the fear and hesitation, he coul still feel, still hope.

And that, for the moment, is enough.

[misserabella]

two geniuses (don’t get along)

enemies to lovers;; spencer reid x fem reader!

masterlist!

note; in this fic lila’s episode happens after elle’s departure to make the story have more sense. (S1 E18). also there have been some changes :))

synopsis; spencer reid; doctor spencer reid. some of them (mostly of them), would say he’s a genius. but if he was, then so you were. maybe that’s why you hate each other. maybe that’s why you can’t stand him.

cw;; +18 content! minors dni!, reader and spencer’s competitive asses, talk of murder, graphic scenes, weapons, guns, blood, shots being fired, lila flirting, spencer kissing lila, lots of fighting, lots of tension, teasing, apologies, reader getting hurt (mentions of stitches), threats, murder of secondary characters, talk about kinks and trauma (spencer being a smartaas), mention of spencer’s childhood and her mom… ( i bet there’s so much more but i can’t remember rn) angst, fluff and smut in upcoming chapters!!!

“another coffee, pretty boy? you wanna die?” morgan inquired the puppy eyed profiler, whose right hand held a cup of freshly brewed coffee.

“actually, the caffeine in coffee has been found in animal and cell studies to protect cells in the brain that produce dopamine. in a large prospective cohort of more than 500,000 people followed for 10 years, an association was found between drinking higher amounts of coffee and lower rates of death from all causes.” he easily spat in less than a mere minute, making morgan scoff.

“it’s not considered coffee if a 99% of it is sugar, reid.” you barged into their conversation, taking a look at the files of new cases.

“sugar is one type of carbohydrate, as are fiber and starch. carbohydrates are essential macronutrients.” he defended himself, taking a sip of his coffee-sugar.

“wrong. although carbohydrates are essential macronutrients since the body uses them in large amounts, something wrong about your thesis is that sugar is not one of those macronutrients. the body doesn’t use it. in fact, the effects of added sugar intake which are higher blood pressure, inflammation, weight gain, diabetes, and fatty liver disease, are all linked to an increased risk for heart attack and stroke. so yeah. technically, morgan was right. you might die.” you nodded towards the man, who smiled at you, walking towards you and taking your face in between his hands.

“have i told you how much i love that brain of yours?” he inquired, leaving a kiss to your forehead. “brilliant.” he smiled, raising his hands in victory since for once he had won spencer and his extensive knowledge. the profiler simply rolled his eyes.

“thanks.” spencer spat at you, to what you smiled.

“you’re very welcome, agent.”

“it’s doctor.”

“yeah, yeah. whatever.”

spencer reid. with an IQ of 187, an eidetic memory, and the ability to read 20,000 words per minute, he was considered a real walking genius. maybe that’s why the two of you seemed to despise each other so much. people say geniuses actually like each other. well, you and spencer were the exception. it was easy to get on his nerves. he was not used to having someone smart enough to actually suppose a threat to his intelligence. yet there you were. you had been jumping your way up to college since you were twelve, and at the ripe age of 22, and numerous phds later, you had found yourself working at the BAU.

you had been hired after elle had left the team, and everyone had seemed happy greeting you. you had specially made quick friends of penelope and morgan. something reid didn’t seem to like. well… he didn’t exceptionally like you. something that seemed stupid ‘cause you two were the perfect pair. there was nothing the two of you didn’t know, nothing you wouldn’t catch or realize. maybe that’s why spencer despised you. ‘cause now they had you too, not only him.

it was actually a pity. you liked smart people. you liked to share opinions and learn new things you might not know with the help of others. but spencer was borderline narcissistic, and that made your body cringe in disgust. and worst of all, he was really attractive. curly caramel hair, hazel puppy eyes, full lips, small straight nose, tall stature, pretty hands… also his voice…

well, anyways. you were losing focus.

so you’d decided to match his energy. and that only seemed to make the situation worse. sure, you two worked together, but only because you had to, if you could you’d much prefer to do everything alone rather than have to share office with reid.

hotch caught your attention as he pushed a file on your table.

“and what’s this…?” you sung as you took it, inspecting it.

“training program in los angeles.” you looked at him. he was leaning against your table. “want you to go with gideon and reid.” you let out a single chuckle, tossing the paper on your table.

“no.” you simply said, watching the man sigh. “tell jj to go! or prentiss!” you offered.

“can’t. jj is helping penelope to trace an unsub and prentiss is new, need someone who has been on the ropes longer.”

“then what about morgan? he’s not doing anything.” you pointed at the man who played with a mini football.

hotch looked at you. “please? you are the only one who gets reid. you know how he can be…”

“a narcissistic, egocentric, babbling, childlike, fourteen looking mess? yeah, i know.” you smiled. “but what do i win in this situation? i mean i must gain something if i’m gonna spend more time than necessary with him.”

“a free weekend.”

“done.” you gave him your hand. “a pleasure doing business with you, sir.”

-

“spencer! spencer reid!” you hear someone call for your work-mate, a tall smiling man approaching him and shaking his hand just as the three of you entered an art exhibition. “look at you. you look just the same.” he chuckled as he gives him a quick hug. “nothing changed… spencer was the only 12-year-old in our graduating class. just the same.”

“thanks.” spencer awkwardly says, giving the man a tight smile. “these are special agents jason gideon and (y/n) (l/n). this is parker dunley. we went to high school together as you can probably gather.” he introduces all of you.

“hey. it’s a beautiful gallery.” jason gives him his hand in a shake.

“oh, thank you, thank you. parker smiles, later on turning towards you.

“contemporary art… right?” you inquire offering him your hand, to what he nods. “contemporary modern art includes a wide range of mediums and genres. it is often characterized by its use of new media, such as video and installation art, as well as its rejection of traditional art forms. contemporary modern artists often experiment with form and content, and their work can be highly conceptual.” you say, making the man chuckle.

“i see you brought your computers.” parker jokes with gideon about spencer and you. “another genius like spencer?”

“oh no, men are just smart. woman are the geniuses.” you smile, making him chuckle.

“and funny, huh? i see, i see.”

spencer coughs to grab the man’s attention. “jason’s a big contemporary art enthusiast.”

“well, we’re exhibiting four up-and-coming artists in this show. everything is for sale. and i could definitely swing a nice discount for a friend of…” he loses focus as a blonde beautiful woman enters the exhibition. “lila! hey. guys, come on.” he invites you three towards his friend, coming up to her to say hello.

“do i look 12-years-old to you?” spencer inquired gideon, to what you scoffed, thanking the waiter that offered and served you a glass of champagne.

“oh, totally.” you said as you took it, taking a sip as you heard spencer crack a fake laugh.

“real funny.”

you three made your way towards parker and… lila. she was a beautiful blue eyes-blonde young girl. the basic american beauty standard.

“spencer. you ever met a real movie star?” the man asks, to what the girl beside the blonde scoffs.

“movie star? please. she has a supporting role on a television series about beach volleyball. totally blue-collar.” your eyebrows slightly rise.

“what a friend…” you whisper to your glass, taking another sip of the champagne.

“i’m lila.” the girl gives a sweet smile to spencer, and you almost roll your eyes.

it’s only a matter of time.

“hi, im doctor spencer reid… i’m spencer. you don’t have to call me doctor.” he corrects himself.

lila chuckles. in 3… 2… 1… and tucks her hair behind her ear. there we go.

“cool.” you say, turning around without even introducing yourself, it’s not as if she’d pay attention to you. she’s too focused on spencer to care as you make your way through the gallery, taking the artwork in, trying to scape the probable flirting that was about to go down.

later on you found the two of them chatting in front of a picture in which the blue and green dominate.

“does it make you feel anything?” the blonde asked him, and you silently expect an answer from spencer.

“like what?” he asks. god he sucks.

“i can’t tell you how to feel.” lila chuckles at his frown.

“right now i feel pretty good.” he smiled and you roll your eyes.

“lila? can i talk to you for a moment?” parker interrupts their chatting and the girl nods, quickly glancing at spencer.

“excuse me.”

“sure!” he gently says, and you make your way towards him.

“feeling pretty good, huh?” you inquire him, teasingly, and he groans. “you totally suck.” you take a sip of your glass and he looks at you. “poor girl seems desperate.”

“desperate for what?” he inquires, frowning.

“oh come on, reid. and you call yourself a profiler? it’s obvious she likes you. she was trying to flirt with you.” you obviously state. “she was trying so hard and you were not catching on…” you laugh, and he sighs.

“you know ogling on other’s business is rude, right?” he questions you.

“we’re the fbi. we’re on everybody’s business. that’s our job, reid.” you ignore him, taking a look at the photograph lila and him were staring at. “calming, isn’t it?” you say and he looks at the photograph as well, taking it in.

“sometimes, the color blue is associated with loneliness and sadness. it usually happens when you combine it with specific elements, like rain.” he spits and you chuckle.

“i know that, genius. the thing is not how it’s supposed to make you feel, it’s how it really makes you feel.” he looks at you as you sip from your cup. “with lila, you might feel good, ‘cause you enjoy her company, with me on the other side, you might not even want to be here, staring at a photograph that you’ve probably seen before. that’s because you focus on everything too much. you need to see what the picture actually tells you, not focus on the person you’re staring at it with.”

spencer’s hazel eyes go back to the picture, trying to focus on it, not on your presence, or the amount of voices that surrounded him.

the exhibited photograph shows an empty gas station, lights of green engulfing it as the nightlight blue sky surrounds it. it takes spencer back to his childhood. to those days in which even if he loved his mother, he couldn’t spend another minute by her side and left his house late in the afternoon for a walk. it helped him get out of his head. he remembers watching the sun go down as the night took over the sky, studying and calling out the constellations above his head, trying to find a solution to his mother’s illness. the stars never worked, and he was always left…

“it makes me feel alone.”

-

“you know, we really can get ourselves to the airport.” gideon said, reid and you trailing behind him as the police officer guided you to his car.

“i didn’t invite the fbi here to let them make their own way around town.” he says, never minding gideon.

“we really appreciate it.” reid says and you whistle.

“so you have manners, huh?” to what he groans.

“oh, shut up.”

“hey, i can’t thank you guys enough for conducting the seminar.” kim smiles.

“well, don’t hesitate to call if there’s anything we can help with.” gideon offered, putting his bags on the trunk of the car.

you stretched your arms after having pushed in your own. “can’t wait for that free weekend.” you muster happily, to what spencer frowns.

“free weekend? what are you talking about?”

“a special thanks from hotch for coming all the way here and putting up with you.” his mouth falls open at your words.

“i didn’t get any free time and i had to put up with you!”

“that let’s you know who’s the problem in this equation.” you falsely smiled at him, patting her shoulder, and you relished on the way his jaw tightened.

your conversation ends as the three of you watch officer kim end a phone call with a not very enthusiastic ‘great’.

“everything alright?” jason asks.

“double murder at hollywood bungalow.” he informs. “a celebrity. a young movie star, natalie ryan, and her fiancé shot to death.”

“very romantic.” you mutter.

“it’s gonna be a major pain in the ass. hey, you guys care to take a quick look before i drive you to the airport? it’s on the way.” he asks, and gideon accepts the offer.

“absolutely.”

you sigh as you get on the back of the car along with spencer.

“seems like that weekend is gonna have to wait.” he happily and teasingly smiles and you send daggers in his direction.

“i’ll choke you with my bare hands.”

“did you get that kink by exposure or trauma?” your mouth falls and your eyes widen.

“what?” you almost yell, watching him ponder.

“maybe it’s because you like to have power and control. have you talked about this with a therapist?”

“you’re gonna have to see a therapist after the torture i’m gonna put you through if you don’t stop that fucking nonsense.” you warn him, and he raises his hands.

“i’m just saying, there’s nothing bad about seeking mental help-”

“spencer!”

-

“no sign of forced entry.” reid points out as the four of you enter the murder scene.

“same weapon.” gideon informs watching at the two bodies.

you stare at the female, getting closer. “the girl was shot execution style, once in the head. the male three times in the torso.”

“so you have two different MOs.” jason wonders before going back to officer kim, talking about the case. you crouch down to take a better look at the man’s corpse.

“what? you found anything?” spencer inquired from behind you, to what you shook your head.

“nah. just fantasizing.” he frowns.

“fantasizing. what the- what would you possibly be fantasizing about in a murder scene?”

“oh you know… you… in that position… you know? it’s really sexy, you should try it. here don’t move let me get my gun.” you offer while getting up, and he just rolls his eyes, leaving you behind.

“what do you think?” gideon asks the officer about the case, wanting his insight.

“i’ve had a couple other cases recently, past few months. same type of weapon, 22 caliber handgun, both shot in the head.” you look at the bodies. “the first was an established film producer, wally melman, and the second was chloe harris, another young actress. though not as well-known as natalie here.”

“any forensic evidence?” reid asks as you step away from them, taking in your surroundings.

“no, and the guys have been going through this place all morning and haven’t come up with anything.”

“so he clearly knows how to cover his tracks.”

“or hers.” you mutter to yourself.

“twenty-two’s are small but efficient. they bounce around inside a person like a pinball.” jason said.

“preferred weapon of the mafia.” spencer added. “you know, there’s no obvious sexual component to these crimes, which is usually the case with serial murders.”

“so you’re thinking this is a serial killer?” kim asks.

“well, it’s certainly a series of murders. we don’t know enough yet to call them serial.” you step into the conversation.

“would you consider hanging out in LA a little while? let me lean on your expertise until we do figure out what we’ve got?” the officer inquires and gideon nods.

“yeah, just cancel the flights. we’ll have the rest of pit team out here ASAP.”

-

the unsub seemed to follow his victims, since he knew their schedules. there was not a single witness, he knows how to blend in and hide in plain sight. he’s meticulous.

and everybody is watching.

just like everybody was watching spencer and lila.

after finding out that the unsub was actually stalking the blonde, and killing people to help her with her career, she had somehow scurried her way under spencer’s protection. it actually bothered you. ‘cause spencer seemed so distracted. and it was totally unprofessional to get involved with a target being their agent.

you were on her studio, studying everyone surrounding her. but it was one person that caught your attention.

“who’s that?” you question prentiss.

“that’s maggie, maggie lowe. for what i know she just works here.” she answers you. “why?”

“they seem pretty close, don’t you think?” you ponder, watching her physical language. “she also seems nervous, she avoids lila’s eyes.”

“maybe she’s just shy.” she shrugs, but knows what you’re pointing out.

“maybe…” then, jj appears.

“what are you guys talking about?”

“lila and possible unsubs.” emily fills her in, accepting the coffee she offers her, you take the one she handles you too with a thanks.

“talking about lila… look who’s approaching her.” she devilishly smiles. you almost groan at the sight of spencer talking to the blonde. “they seem to have hit it off.”

“ugh don’t start. he’s so focused on her when in reality he should be focused on his job…” you sip at your coffee, not realizing the shared look the other two girls send each other. “so unprofessional.” you shake your head.

“are you really mad because he’s distracted from his job or by the fact that a pretty girl is distracting him?” jj asked you, taking in your frown and confused expression.

“what?”

“oh come on, really? do you really not feel it?” emily pushes in too, and you look at them.

“feel what? i-i don’t understand.”

“there’s this weird tension in between the two of you.” the brunette explains, being backed up by the blonde.

“it’s like when two little kids like each other and they don’t know how to show it so they just mess with each other.” you scoff.

“you’re saying that spencer and i are attracted to each other?” you inquired them both and they looked at the other. “come on guys, have you seen him? have you actually worked with him? he’s a fucking narcissist, he makes my life impossible just because i’m as smart as him. i don’t like him. at all. i can’t even stand him!” you rant. “he does this thing when he’s focused, playing with his hands and pencils, it’s so distracting. and when i state a fact, he just has to find something to actually make it wrong. every single time. and let’s not talk about how fucking childish he is, if you guys had been here for the training program, i swear to god he said this stupid things about kinks and me having trauma, oh my god i wanted to fucking kill him. he diminishes me, and thinks he’s better than me. and it just makes me sick…” you take a deep breath when you notice how much you had actually talked and your friends’ looks. “what i mean to say is, no. i don’t like spencer reid. and if he wants to fuck his job up, i’d be more than happy.”

morgan suddenly appeared, hotch right behind him.

“guys. there’s something you have to know…” the first talked.

“michael ryer’s dead.” the second finished.

“oh shit.” emily cursed.

“does lila know?” jj asked.

they shook their head.

“she’s gonna be devastated.” jj said to what you sipped at your coffee.

“well at least she has spencer, right?”

“oh, yeah. can we talk about that real quick?!” morgan inquired, astonished.

“no, morgan!” the girls stop him and he raised his hands.

“okay… but the kid has game.”

-

“woah. i like your house.” spencer said as you two entered lila’s house.

how had you managed to end up with the two of them alone, you didn’t know, and you didn’t like.

“i rent it.” the girl smiled.

“nice.” he nodded.

“lila, you should probably change all your phone numbers.” you said, messaging your team, they’d found something concerning nude photos of the young artist.

“i’m unlisted.”

“anytime you call an 800 or an 888 number your phone number’s put into a data bank that’s then sold to telemarketers. if someone gets your phone number they can go online and research all your records.” you actually responded.

“woah, are you a genius like spencer too?” spencer.

“no. i’m actually smarter.” you gave her a small smile, making her chuckle.

“uh… you should probably carry a piece of paper and pen with you wherever you go in case you see any suspicious license plates that often reappear.” spencer tries to change the conversation as you two followed the blonde towards her kitchen. “and a security dog too.”

“allergic.” she simply answered. “do you guys want some tea?”

you shrugged. “yeah, sure. thanks.” spencer nodded as well. it was already getting late, the sun leaving the city’s sky.

“i’m gonna go change while the water boils, make yourselves comfortable.” she said while making her way upstairs.

you went back towards the salon, your eyes wandering towards a collage on lila’s wall. spencer got your left side, his white stripped button up shirt’s sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

“feel anything yet?” you asked him.

“there is something definitely appealing about this one.” he said and you nodded.

“like lila?”

he looked at you, his mouth falling open to say something, but just as the words were to fall from his lips, the blonde returned in a a more comfortable outfit, making her way towards the patio of her house, beside the pool.

“what are you doing?” spencer inquired her.

“i just need some air. the tea is on the kitchen.” she responded.

“what? no, lila…” your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you watched him go after her.

you could hear them talk and spencer beg her to come inside since there was a psychotic killer aiming at her. you made your way back to the kitchen just as fast as you saw the blonde lean into him, one of her hands tugging at his tie to pull him down. great.

your hands took the cup of steaming tea that lila had prepared you, your eyes on spencer’s as you took a sip. but the warm liquid was poured all over the floor of the kitchen, your head spinning at the blunt trauma that stroke you. your hands went to the side of your forehead as you fell, taking in the sight of your blood. you groaned as someone took you from your hair, pulling you and dragging you across the floor, your hands getting cuts from the smashed cup of tea.

“come here.” the unsub said, taking away your gun, and… you knew that voice. your eyes met the blonde’s.

“maggie lowe?” you muttered to yourself. so you were right. she was the killer and stalker.

you got dragged all the way to the salon, where you could see lila and spencer kissing from the distance. but the kiss quickly broke when maggie fired a shot up into the ceiling, capturing their attentions. spencer quickly pulled out his weapon, pointing at maggie, whose gun’s barbell was right against your head.

“maggie?” lila inquired as they slowly made their way towards you two.

“why’d you have to bring these people here?” she asked lila. “put down the gun.” she ordered spencer, clocking the weapon that kissed your skin. he quickly lowered it, calling out for the killer. “don’t call me maggie! you don’t know me!” “come on lila, let’s go. we gotta go baby, let’s go.” she ordered the actress in a soft yet hurt voice.

“maggie don’t hurt her, you don’t need to hurt her.” you didn’t know if he was talking about lila or you. or maybe both.

“you don’t know anything. i would never do anything to hurt lila. i created her.”

“no, you didn’t.” lila said.

“yes, i did!” you closed your eyes when the barbell dug harsher against your temple. “i did everything for you! and you betray me by bringing these people here… to our house!!!”

“so ungrateful…” you say, loud enough for maggie to hear you. “look at you… you gave her everything and you saw what she did to you… she kissed him. she told him she loved him.” you lied, looking at spencer. he caught on.

“what?” maggie incredulously said.

“i heard them. i saw them kissing each other like animals!” you yelled. “he abandoned me… and now i’m here. about to be killed because of him!” you spat, meeting maggie’s eyes. “you don’t have to hurt me. they don’t deserve us. i’m on your side maggie… i know how you feel. i know how it feels to be betrayed like this…” you nodded, seeing her eyes change. “give me my gun… i’ll kill him for you. and then you can have lila back. i’ll let the two of you go.” you promised, slowly rising up to your feet, extending your hand.

and just as she pointed her gun down, you tackled her, taking the weapons from her and throwing them aside as she fought against your hold.

“reid!” you called out for your work mate, who quickly came to you and handcuffed maggie, who just started crying and begging for you to kill her.

“i gave her everything…”

you looked at spencer, wiping off the blood from your eyes.

“and that’s why we need to stay professional.”

-

“are you okay, pretty girl?” morgan came to you as the paramedics wiped clean your wound.

“yeah, they say i have a light concussion. a couple of stitches and i’ll be alright.” you gave him a small smile.

“what happened in there, huh? we only got what the paparazzi had on camera, which is…” you nodded.

“yeah. well, maggie got into the house with lila’s spare keys, and basically almost killed me. it was good luck that spencer kissed lila, or else i don’t know what i would’ve done.” the rest of the team had gathered around you.

“you did good. spencer told me how you got into her head.” gideon said.

“thanks.” you responded.

“make sure you’re on the clear before getting up. we’ll be right back, gotta fill in the other officers.” hotch informed you, to what you nodded.

they all left except spencer, who silently looked at you.

“i’m sorry.” spencer said, looking at his feet. “this shouldn’t have happened, if i hadn’t…”

“… played barbie?” you finished off for him, catching his attention. “look spencer. i don’t really care about it. it’s your life and you make your own decisions, just… make sure to not put any of us in danger while doing it. even lila. one of us three could have died tonight.” he nodded. you reached on your back pockets, pulling out the films of the paparazzi’s camera. “i guess this is yours.” he called out for you once again, probably to apologize one more time, but you were still pretty shaken up and you were still pretty mad at him. “would you mind? my head is killing me.” you asked of him and he nodded, silently turning around and walking its way towards morgan and emily. your mind went back to her words the moment the needle punctured your skin. oh ‘come on, really? do you really not feel it?’ ‘there’s this weird tension in between the two of you.’. and then back to jj’s. ‘it’s like when two little kids like each other and they don’t know how to show it so they just mess with each other’. you couldn’t help but chuckle.

you liking spencer? no way.

if there was anything you felt for spencer reid that was hate.

-

a/n; im so excited for this series!!!! so much angst and fluff and smut yet to come!🤭

[princesseilish]

LITTLE MISHAPS

Billie Eilish x Fem!Reader

Warnings: i don’t know .

Synopsis: after years of speech classes, y/n just can’t seem to get some (a lot) of things, especially words

Billie twirled pasta onto her fork, watching Y/N frown at her plate.

“Why does one spaghetti noodle look so lonely? Like… a spaghetto?” Y/N asked, poking at it.

Billie paused mid-bite. “What did you just say?”

“Spaghetto. Like a single spaghetti noodle.”

Billie blinked. “You know that’s actually correct, right? But the way you said it—”

“Smart and adorable,” Y/N interrupted, smirking.

Billie shook her head, laughing. “Sure, Einstein. Eat your spaghetto.”

“I think I’m an ambivertion,” Y/N said one night, curled up on the couch.

Billie glanced up from her book. “A… what?”

“Ambivertion. You know, like, I’m both introverted and extroverted?”

“You mean ambivert,” Billie corrected, biting back a smile.

Y/N frowned. “That’s what I said.”

“No, you said ambivertion,” Billie teased. “It’s okay, though. I still love you.”

Y/N threw a pillow at her, cheeks burning. “You’re so mean!”

Billie grabbed a bag of chips off the shelf while Y/N studied the label.

“Are these high in carbohydrants?” Y/N asked seriously.

Billie froze. “Do you mean carbohydrates?”

Y/N’s face scrunched up. “Oh. Right. That’s what I said.”

“Babe, you said carbohydrants,” Billie said, bursting into laughter. “Like they’re fire hydrants made of carbs.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “You’re not funny.”

“No, but you are,” Billie teased, kissing her on the cheek.

They were stargazing in the backyard when Y/N pointed up.

“Do you think the moon is gravitationally pulling us right now?” she asked softly.

Billie blinked. “That’s… not how you say it, but yes, that’s what gravity does.”

Y/N shrugged. “Well, it feels more poetic this way.”

Billie grinned, wrapping an arm around her. “You’re gravitationally pulling me toward you right now.”

“ew..” Y/N muttered.

At a small Mexican restaurant, Y/N studied the menu.

“Do you think they make the tortillas in a tortillaria here?” she asked.

Billie raised an eyebrow. “A… what?”

“You know, like a bakery but for tortillas?”

Billie couldn’t hold it in. “Do you mean a tortillería?”

Y/N blinked. “That’s what I said.”

“No, babe. You added, like, three extra letters,” Billie laughed, reaching for her hand.

“Do you think we’re doing enough for the environmentical issues?” Y/N asked during dinner.

Billie choked on her water. “The what issues?”

“Environmentical!” Y/N said confidently. “Like environmental and technical?”

Billie wiped her mouth, laughing. “You’re just making stuff up at this point.”

Y/N frowned. “I think it makes sense.”

“Sure it does,” Billie said, smiling. “And I love you for it.”

Billie was brushing her teeth when Y/N walked into the bathroom, looking deep in thought.

“Do you ever notice how peculious life is?” Y/N mused.

Billie spat out her toothpaste. “Peculious?”

“Yeah, like, peculiar and curious,” Y/N explained.

Billie leaned against the sink, laughing. “You’ve got a gift, you know that?”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Keep laughing. One day, my words will end up in the dictionary.”

“And I’ll be the first to buy it,” Billie said, pulling her in for a kiss.

While trying to follow GPS, Y/N sighed dramatically.

“Why isn’t this route more navigatable?” she grumbled.

Billie snorted. “Navigatable? You mean navigable?”

“Whatever,” Y/N huffed. “You know what I meant.”

Billie couldn’t stop laughing. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“Lucky?” Y/N said, grinning. “You’re the one who gets to be with me.”

Billie rolled her eyes, still smiling. “Fair point.”

[cluepoke-archive]

Now I feel a bit silly because yeah carbs are in everything. YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN THOUGH OK... I hope so. I meant bread products in general :>

PSA don't feed the geese !!!

[catssluvr]

𝓬𝓸𝓯𝓯𝓮𝓮, spencer reid

spencer x shy!r

spencer brings you coffee <3

warnings: mentions of stress? just fluff 🫶🏻

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

You sighed as your eyes scaned the paper in front of you, not bothering to take a look at the mountain of files standing at the corner of your table. You were pretty much sure that if you did, your headache - that would soon turn into a migrane - would start showing signs way too soon in the day. 7am was definitely too early for that.

This week was particularly kicking your ass and the only thing you wanted was to go back home, curl into your sofa with some takeout and watch a junkie romcom.

You couldn't help but frown at the empty chair of the table in front of yours that belonged to spencer, it was unsual for him to be this late. Well, technically he wasn´t late but knowing him he would usually arrive 30 minutes earlier.

Before you could think too much about it, Derek´s voice sounded behind you, "You alright, pretty girl?" He asked with one of his teasing but loving smiles plastered on his face.

"Yeah, just tired of paperwork. Hotch knows how to make me get as grumpy as him." You joked with a smile, trying to mask your tiredness.

"Well if you need me to kick his ass just reach out." He joked, looking aroud to make sure there was no sign of your boss before walking back to his desk.

You were about to get back to your paper when you noticed Spencer walking through the doors, clumsly carrying two coffees and what happeared to be a box from the place where they sell your favourite bagels.

You couldn´t help but smile as you watched him take small steps to his table, careful not to spill the coffee. You would have helped him if your mind wasn´t concentrated on how much you miss him lately. Aside from the fact your stomach errupts in a thousand butterflies when you see him, he is the best bestfriend in the whole world and having to cancel friday´s movie night was probably one of your most heartbreaking decisions. You usually wouldnt miss it for nothing but files don´t yet fill themselves alone so it was your only option.

Friday nights were the only oportunity you had to relax completely, Spencer was probably one of the only people that you were completely comfortable around, he understood you like no one else - which leads to the big question: how could you not fall in love with him?

"Hi." His voice interrupted your thoughts, he was now standing beside you with his signature smile, a cup of coffee in one hand and a bagel wrapped up in a paper in the other.

"Hey Spence." You smiled shyly at him, embarrassed for getting caught in your daydream. Gladly, he hadn’t ´t even noticed you staring, him being just as oblivious as you when it came to the feelings you shared for eachother.

"I- uhm- bought you this. I just noticed you haven´t been taking breaks at all, not even for lunch. And if you're not eating enough during the day, particularly carbohydrate-rich foods, you may have decreased levels of serotonin, a hormone that has a calming effect. That increases the chances of getting stressed." He rambled on, not that you minded - at all. In fact, your heart skiped a beat at the thought of him caring so much about your health that he came in late just to buy you breakfast.

"Oh Spence you really didn´t have to. But thank you so much." You grinned sheepishly as you got up from your chair, taking both the coffee and bagel from his hands and setting it on your table, blushing when his knuckles brushed against your hand. It was silly, really silly, but you couldn´t help but get flustered every time.

"It´s no problem, really." He mumbled softly before going on, "I hope i got everything right. Four cubes of ice, three fourths of milk and one fourth of coffee. Oh and i made sure to choose the bagel that contained more carbs so you would have energy for the day." He smiled proudly at you.

But honestly your attention was mostly focused on the way his fingers were fiddling with the cozy sweater that covered your arms as he rambled on. It had became an habit of his, he claimed it helped his concentration (it was a pretty lame excuse to get to touch your fluffy sweaters) but you were pretty sure he did it when he was feeling nervous about something.

Reality hit you suddenly as you realised he might feel like you were upset at him for canceling friday night, after all it was a very unusual for you to cancel plans with him.

"Hug?" Was all you could muster out, the longing you had felt throughout the week from barely even talking to him finally coming to the surface.

His hands pulled at your sweater, bringing you close to him before you could overthink your request. He wrapped his arms arounds your waist without hesitation, his face snuggling against your neck.

Your arms went around his shoulders, trying not to squeeze him too hard, as you stayed there for a few moments. He made no sign to pull away from you until you did, you loved that about him - you loved a lot of things about him.

When you were finally out of his embrace, mourning the lack of warmt right after, he smiled as he whispered softly, "Let me know if you need any of those again." Before walking back to his desk, almost tripping over his desk as he looked at you with those doe eyes of his the whole way.

How could you not fall in love with him?

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

love you,

cat 🤍

[seat-safety-switch]

Nobody can stop you from enjoying baked goods. Big Magazine has tried to take their shot at it, with handwringing worries about "too many carbohydrates," as if that's even possible. Me, when I get worried about having too much bread, I get real anxious. Nervous. Trembly. Sweating palms. Then I go and eat some more bread to feel better. You can be like me. You can be free.

A couple years ago, I was banned from a local bakery. Why? Ate too many croissants. Went into what the literature is now calling "temporary pastry-induced delirium." That's thanks to me, by the way. Chirped at an attendant, and then it was a fight. I'm real bad at fighting, especially after eating my own weight in sintered flour. Their croissants were shit anyway. Not enough flake.

In rehab, I went through all the classic doubts. Maybe my love of baked goods was me looking for a better connection to my mother. Substitution, you know. Tried corn tortillas instead of bread. That did it, for a little while, until I went into debt at the junkyard taco truck, piling myself high with "extra avocado." That's when I realized I had a problem. That problem was: society.

See, psychologists like to talk about the shame spiral. Feeling shame makes you spiral into eating something else. If you don't feel ashamed of eating bread, you can eat all the bread you want. When this revelation struck me, it immediately became the core of my new power. When you sign up for my courses, and buy my books, and merchandise, and subscribe to my premium podcast, you can learn to eat baked goods without regret, too. We're calling it the Loaf Yourself First method. I'm looking forward to seeing you all at LoafCon 2025, at the Miami Beach Convention Centre. We're going to have some guy from Italy bring about six million maritozzi, and fight us for them.

[why-animals-do-the-thing]

You may notice I frequently comment on the assumptions people make about animal facilities based on their branding. Frequently, people assume accredited facilities are inherently better for animals than unaccredited facilities, or assume sanctuaries are inherently more moral / better at caring for their animals than zoos.

I want to show you an example of why I am always, always skeptical of these assumptions.

If you’re in the California area, you might have heard about Hank the Tank - who is actually a Henrietta, btw - the 500 pound nuisance bear from Lake Tahoe who broke into 21 homes in search of food. She was recently captured by wildlife officials and moved to a sanctuary in Colorado. The Wild Animal Sanctuary has three main facilities, two in Colorado and one in TX. To give you some context, it’s the biggest carnivore sanctuary in the country - they advertise somewhere between 300-500 animals, mostly large carnivores, between their properties. It’s where most of the Tiger King cats went. It’s PETA’s preferred placement for confiscated exotic animals. So, obviously, it’s got to be great, right? Except… take a look at what they posted about Henrietta’s arrival.

Here’s their post about Henrietta’s arrival at the Refuge, the large facility in Colorado that isn’t open to the public. Let’s take a closer look at that food trough…

What do we see here? An entire rotisserie chicken that is either blackened or highly seasoned, and a whole ham. Maybe a second chicken underneath the pile, I can’t quite tell. The sanctuary gets the majority of their bear food donated from groceries stores once it’s past the sell-by date, so we know those are older meats and they’re full of a ton of salt. Then, for fruit and veg, there’s a cantaloupe, mango, corn, avocado, grapes, and apples. Maybe a pepper or two, it’s hard to tell. That’s a lot of sugar and not a lot of fiber or roughage.

But… on top of it and to the right… are those Twizzlers?

Yes.

The sanctuary confirmed on Facebook that they fed this recently rescued obese bear what looks like almost an entire pack of Twizzlers.

I don’t know of any world in which it’s appropriate to feed candy to a bear. Maybe a piece or two as a really high value reinforcer for hard behaviors (that isn’t relevant here, it’s openly against this sanctuary’s ethos to do any husbandry or medical training). An entire pack of Twizzlers is just appalling. But it’s not uncommon for this facility! I have a book written about their operations and animal care (that I bought at their gift shop this spring) which openly discusses how the bears get fed bread, doughnuts, marshmallows, and all sorts of incredibly unhealthy food that comes in with the grocery donations.

But hey, this is apparently fine for the bears, according to the sanctuary’s founder. He was quoted in that same book as saying “Bears are the only animal I know of that can eat insane amounts of sugar and it never hurts them. It does not hurt their organs. They do not get clogged arteries. They do not have high blood pressure. In the wild they eat all these sweet berries in the fall, and they convert sugar to fat… so the more sugar they get the better… we would all love to have a system like that!”

Now while it’s true that bears have physiological adaptations that modulate their insulin production and sensitivity in ways that appear to prevent them from from developing diabetes, that does’t mean it’s healthy for them to regularly eat processed carbohydrates, sugar, and general junk food. And remember - Henrietta gained her fame because of how incredibly overweight she already is, and because she was seeking out human food, According to the Washington Department of Fish and Wildlife, a healthy weight for a normal adult black bear is between 100-300 pounds. So, obviously, the best thing to do is… continue to feed her candy.

Then, later on in the book, it details how they have to bribe a camel to sit tight for a regular medical examination (since they don’t train for medical behaviors) by letting him drink a can of Mountain Dew each time.

If a zoo was known publicly to be feeding their animals Mountain Dew or a couple Twizzlers - even just once, on a rare occasion - they’d be eviscerated in the media and by public opinion. But feeding out inappropriate junk food appears to be a pretty common practice at this place, and it just goes unscrutinized because everyone assumes sanctuaries are inherently better for animals.

So, long story short, never make assumptions about the quality of a facility based on it’s branding or accreditation. (TWAS is accredited by the Global Federation of Animal Sanctuaries). If you have concerns about the ethics or practices of a facility, always try to put your preconceptions aside, go and see for yourself, and think critically about what you see and what you’re told.

[thechekhov]

Dungeon Meshi Quick Reacts: CH40

Laios is apparently only good at drawing monsters.

You guys have no faith in him! Come onnnn

To that point, if the shapeshifters that are left are the most similar to the real selves, doesn't that prove that Laios actually knows them best? The other, easily-discounted shapeshifters were easily singled out as fakes because they were so caricature like.

The remaining fakes are just minutely different from the real selves. Chilchuk has slightly larger eyes, Marcille's hair is thinner, and Senshi has sharper features. What that says to me is that Laios is actually the BEST at reconstructing them in his mind.

Unfortunately, that. Kinda makes it harder.

Welll.......yeah. No, that makes sense.

This is a problem you all created 😂

This is legitimately making me question everything. Because like... Marcille A is acting pretty sus. But they've been through a lot, so maybe she's just depressed?

Oooooooh someone minmaxed into gayness. That's certainly a dependable strategy.

FAKE!!!!! He's the fake! Senshi would never deplete an ecosystem completely like that!!!!

ah yes, all sorts of nutrition. White rice is known for its nutrition like...... (looks at smeared writing on hand) carbohydrates and scant amounts of folates. Yep.

HE IS HANDSOME, BUT NOT "B"!! "A" IS ALSO HANDSOME!! THEY'RE BOTH HANDSOME!

.......guys. GUYYS.

Laios, you're such an absolute loser and I love you but please. Please turn on the autism. Just this once, please turn on the autism beam and point it at your friends. Please

"all of them! Everyone is fake! Including me!"

Wouldn't that be a plot twist.

why are both the chillchucks upset at this suggestion? shouldn't the real ones be relieved?

Illusions with physical traits, though? Is that not obvious once you start roughing it up with it? If something can be physical enough to fight, why not just use that thing to overpower the adventurer, then?

....so it's a vampire created illusion?

Okay, so because I saw someone else post this page to my dash about a week ago I'm actually fully aware of what comes next, and I can say with certainty that it does not ruin it. At all.

I gotta say, as a weird little kid that practiced barking like a dog and mimicking dog howls, this is making me feel SO SEEN. He's just like me fr.

And the fact that they're all supporting his talent........friendship is magic.

I'm so intrigued by this man and how his mind works.

Love is not letting your dumbass furry friend climb into the wolf enclosure at the zoo and try to fight the alpha of the pack.

This is. So real. I've never seen a manga commit SO MUCH to the weird little man trope, and I love Kui-san so much for this. This is true representation.

Dumbass recognizes dumbass. This is why they're friends.

I WAS WONDERING ABOUT THAT. I also didn't remember it!

Oh, hmm.....

I'm relatively certain the hand that Marcille grasped in the last chapter WAS the cat's hand. That means the cat followed them - but because no one knew she was there, the shapeshifter didn't create any illusions of her. That means she was just hiding out, observing everything.

Is she just sleeping in there curled up on the rice?

Ahhh, so it was a distraction.

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

Hi darling! You' ve done incredible works! Could you please take a request for Raymond Smith with competency and size kinks?

Thank you for reading this 🩷🩷🩷

Thank you so much!

For once, I am so fucking happy with this but I really hope you like it. No pressure tags @yourwinchesterbros @rayslittlekitten @youflickedtooharddamnit

Masterlist

Roll Your Own

Contains: Cannabis use, competency kink, size kink, oral sex (f receiving) P in V, fluff.

1.6 K words

Ray is good at everything he does

You watched as Ray carefully picked the flower away from its stem, placing it in the grinder before sealing it and twisting the top with practised, precise movements. Seconds later, he was softly sprinkling the finely ground herb on the rolling paper. Meticulous fingers placed the filter at the end and finally rolled the joint tight before he slid it in front of you. "There you go, Love."

He made his with the same precision, with the added addition of tobacco from a cigarette, and you sighed. "That shit will kill you know?"

He chuckled warmly and shook his head. "There's plenty of stuff that's going to kill me, and a good, old fashion fifty fifty is not one of them." He reached out, squeezing your knee lovingly before flicking on his lighter and lighting your joint, then his own. His eyes remained on you as you inhaled, and he waited until you puffed out a lung full of smoke before speaking. "Good?"

You nodded. "You always rolled good joints, even if you complain about the new school nonsense I like."

The weather was warm enough that all you needed to be comfortable was a blanket over your lap and Ray sitting next to you. He slung his arm around the back of the bench and over your shoulder, pulling you close as the smoke blew away in the wind. "This is nice."

He smiled. "Yeah, it is." You leaned into him, somehow, whether it be the way he dressed or the way he carried himself, he managed to make himself look so much smaller than he was. In truth, he was broad and tall, with all lean muscles and coiled strength, and without all the trapping of high society dress, he was an intimidating large man. "You look lost in thought." He had pressed his nose to the side of your face, breathing in the scent of your shampoo as he spoke.

"I'm just thinking about how hot your are with your shirt off, and how I'd kill for some hot chips." It was getting close to dinner time, the lights around the barbeque turning on as the sun set over the hill.

He sighed and pressed his lips to your temple. "I can get you some hot chips, then we'll see about the other thing."

He stood up and stretched out his hand, pulling you to your feet before walking you to the kitchen and sitting you on a stool at the bench. Everything happened like a dance, the cutting board came out, then the knife out of its block and the potatoes from their bag in the cupboard. He liked showing off, a small smile gracing his face as he cut the potatoes into perfect, even lengths while the oven preheated, knowing you were watching with wrapped attention at every movement of his long fingers.

"See something you like?" He was a smug bastard when he wanted to be.

You nodded. "Yes, delicious carbohydrates."

He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his lip turning up into a smirk. "What did you call me?" There was a twinkle of mischief in his eyes as the chips entered the oven, and he was walking over to you with a swagger in his step. "They'll be ready in forty minutes, how about I get some wagyu out of the freezer too?"

You nodded and placed your hand on his cheek. "I would like that." He leaned down and kissed you, his beard scratching your skin as his lips sealed on yours. He pulled away, brushing a stray hair from your face as he looked down at you lovingly. You craned your head and pecked his jaw. "You know what else I'd like?"

He smirked, his face lightening up as he shook his head. "Dinner before dessert, Love"

****

Dinner was lovely, Ray had once again outdone himself, everything was perfect. The quiet moments like this were the best parts of the day, with him stealing glances at you every time he thought you weren't looking. You talked about your day and Ray his, and with dinner done, you moved to the couch. It didn't take long for you to climb onto his lap, and he smiled into a kiss as you pushed his mustard yellow sweater off his broad shoulders. His hand found your face, and he fiddled with the buttons on your shirt, each one popping open with care.

He used his body weight to lift you off him and spin around, taking your hand and leading you up the staircase, stopping to press you into the railing so he could kiss you. It was only a short intermission, but it left you breathless nonetheless, and by the time you were through the threshold of your shared bedroom, you were ready to sink to your knees.

He stopped you with a smirk, and you raised your eyebrow. "What gives?"

He ran his finger down your sternum and leaned in close, his lips bumping yours as he spoke. "I want dessert."

You blinked. "But…"

He shook his head. "No buts, get on the bed."

You huffed, but you couldn't hide your smile. "You are a terrible husband, depriving me like this."

His eyes crinkled at the corners as he laughed, lifting your hand to his chest to lay over his heart. "You wound me."

You use the excuse to remove his button down. "Yes, and you deny me."

He shook his head as he stripped off the rest of your clothes and walked you backwards towards the edge of the bed. "I could never deny you anything." He was gazing down at you with such deep affection that it almost hurt. "Can I put my mouth on you now?"

You nodded, laughing as you pulled back with you onto the bed. He kissed his way down your body, stopping at your breast to give each one attention before continuing on his journey. His massive hands ran down your legs, lifting them up on his solid back as he settled on his belly on the bed. He kissed the insides of your thighs, each kiss soft and reverent as he made his way closer to your core.

He licked you from entrance to clit, and you gasped out his name as your hips bucked. He stilled for a moment, throwing one forearm over your hips so you couldn't twitch away and wiggling down so he was keeping your legs apart with his shoulders. He began in earnest when he knew you couldn't shift away from his seeking mouth, closing his lips around your clit while his other hand reached up to play with your breast, and despite the lack of his weight on your body, you felt utterly covered by him.

He was moaning like you were the one getting him off, the vibrations sending shockwaves through you with each pass of his tongue. The edge inevitably appeared, and you lifted your hand from his hair to cover your mouth to avoid what would have been a wail, then everything stopped, and he was looking up at you with both expectation and concern. He lifted his arm off your hip and reached up, wrapping it around your wrist as he brought it downwards. He pressed his wet lips to the very centre of your palm before placing it flat on the bed and smiling softly. "Don't hide anything from me."

He didn't give you time to respond, returning right back to his mission with even more vigour this time. It didn't take long for the peak to crest again, and you found yourself falling into what seemed to be endless bliss as he licked you through it. He gave you a moment to catch your breath before pulling away and wiping his face with his hand. "Thank you, Love."

You reached out, rushing to free him from his pants, pushing them and his boxers down in one go before spreading your legs to accommodate him. His lips found yours and you wrapped your legs around his waist as you reached down to grab his cock so you could guide it inside you. Without the help of his fingers, it was a stretch, and you buried your face in his neck as he took over when you got too overwhelmed.

It must have been a lot for him too, because he was wrapping his arms around your body and lifting you up to sit in his lap, your chest pressed to his as he slowly rocked his hips upwards. He pressed his forehead to yours as you shared a breath, his eyes locked to yours as he picked up the pace. "You are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid my eyes on."

You felt so close to him like this, his considerable arms wrapped around you as he held you tight. You could feel his body rippling with each movement until he adjusted again and one hand left you back in favour of rubbing your clit. "Come on, my Darling, I can feel how close you are."

Your teeth latched on the meat of his shoulder as you came, pulling him with you as his rhythm faltered. You stayed like that for a time, catching your breath while his lips lay on your temple. Eventually, you parted and he pulled you with him as he laid down, brushing your sweat stuck hair from your face as you rested your head over his heart. "That was lovely."

He smiled lazily. "Yesn it was." He rubbed your nose with his, then kissed you. "I love you."

You took his face in your hand, and he fought the urge to nuzzle into your palm. "I love you too Ray."

Fin

[pokemonshelterstories]

My eevee recently evolved into a flareon, are there any new dietary needs that I should be aware of, i know she's much bigger so she'll need more, but is there things that flareons love that I can make for her or is it different for every pokemon?

this is really something you should research before evolving your pokemon next time. some pokemon's diets change significantly upon evolution, and there's always a chance you'll no longer be able to provide a proper diet after a pokemon evolves.

the good news is that a diet formulated for flareon should be available at most pet stores (eeveelution diets in general are easy to find these days). you can't feed her the same food she got as an eevee, though. like many fire types, flareon generate their flames largely through the process of digestion. while still omnivorous, they need a different balance of protein and fat and a higher amount of carbohydrates than eevee do. feeding a flareon is a good bit more expensive because it's a much more calorie dense diet.

in terms of treats, it will come down to her personal preference, but small amounts of fruit and berries as well as meat-based treats are good for flareon. dried sweet potato, green beans (frozen, raw, or boiled in water; no salt or other additives if you cook them), and small amounts of dried ginger root or sootfoot root are also healthy treats. avoid giving hard chews; these can cause a blockage (which is an emergency) or slow down her digestion, which in fire types can lead to an unpleasant condition called smoke reflux.