#I still don’t think I’ve fully articulated it but oh well

[dallasgallant]

Great Expectations |

Ponyboy has to read the novel “Great Expectations” for one of his classes and even relates Pip to himself. After reading the book this is actually a really good showing for his character, as Pip is a working class kid who would’ve been perfectly content in his life if he was not made aware of what it was like to be rich and looked down upon by a girl he liked. Pony has some similarity to this as he also tries to distance himself- his life changes as he starts to be more aware.

Part of this is also influenced by Dally’s speech, some of it by Randy’s if you look at the language of some of his more dower moments and then read those talks it becomes really clear how much they effected him! But he’s not exactly taking the right message away - more of a “it’s over there’s nothing that can ever be done” one, which. Dally and Randy are venting they’re own destroyed mindsets and he’s unfortunately taken it a bit to heart- they’re not wrong but not completely right… but pony looking back and with his head injury really absorbs it.

Pony has great expectations. He’s smart and sweet while being a little spacey but he has a very real ability within him for education and upward mobility. He has a chance to get up and out of poverty and this is why Darry pushes him so hard. He had the same chance but lost it due to family tragedy, and he wants better for his siblings.

“Keeping him from being a soc” isn’t just about Darry being in another social group, it’s how he had an opportunity to make it out but won’t.

Pony and Darry have always put a great emphasis on education, and while it is an important thing in life it also helps demonstrate their world view. Both of them, knowing it or not have a sense of resentment for what they are and how things are. Pony mentions it much more actively in the book how it’s not fair his friends get all the rough breaks in the world, how hard and bad things get on their side of town. They were born with something to prove, they’re more than what society thinks of them- so is everyone else and they’ll carry that weight and be enough proof for everyone.

They have little to be proud of and even then should they even be proud of it? Pony and Darry share this mindset— none of the rest of the gang would, they have their way of coping and sometimes even enjoying life. They’re not focused on the system or this big think pieces and in a way they’re happier for it -> this brings us back to Pip, like him being aware brings pony upset.

This isn’t to say they’re depressed or entirely hate their lives. Just that they’re the kind to think about this and spiral from time to time. The other guys don’t, not because they aren’t aware of a system vaguely but they focus on a much more individual personal level. It’s Grease v. Soc instead of having these huge think pieces. There’s still enjoyment and regularity in Pony and Darry’s life but what I’m trying to highlight is this “awareness” adding strife.

In this emphasis on education, they’re also working to distance themselves. In a way that puts down their friends, their lives and further builds that resentment. Spelling good, getting good grades makes you better- makes you more acceptable to those above — who there’s simultaneously distaste yet a unconscious need for approval. Someone else said it before but the novel being his essay…. The way pony talks down on greasers and how he tries to make sure the teacher knows the gang is different— it’s a bid for humanization.

But at the same time:

“I’d rather have anybody’s hate than their pity.” (162)

There is pride to be had in being a Greaser, being from where they are. There’s pride because that’s one of the few things they can have and pride because it is not all tragedy. Education, getting out is still important but being a greaser doesn’t have to be a bad thing- by the end of the book pony comes to see that. He comes back to his friends and to himself.

His essay is a want to humanize but it’s also to tell the stories that go untold. Perspectives that are looked over. At the end of the book pony talks about how it’s specifically for those who are similar— how it’s not too late. How there’s still good in the world. Pony veers in the novel towards becoming rough from the very beginning…. Only not like Dally who’s loud and violent, in a much more silent way but still bound to blow. Johnny telling him to ‘Stay Gold’ brings him out of this ? Spiral almost and he goes from trying to distance to advocating for himself and others.

“It was too vast a problem to be a personal thing.” 179

Letting them know they’re not alone in the world when it seems like it. Letting himself begin to process grief. (Seriously the second to last page hits hard every single time)

[omgrandomwords]

ok so i’m incapable of keeping literally anything to myself but i am feeling very emotional abt this so

[fangswbenefits]

Listen. I’ve been reading smut for well over a decade. I know when to spot a talented writer and you are one. There’s just something special about the way you describe smut without making it cringe-y (dialogue-wise). You answered an ask saying you value the act over the words and I can see it.

Sharing is Caring’s dialogue is almost minimal but so effective because, like you mentioned in there, Miguel wants to have the last word so it’s like they’re bickering but still being fully turned on.

You have a gift, Ruby. Miguel simps are lucky to have you. Stay golden.

Oh…. I’m speechless�� I don’t even think I’m articulate enough to properly address this level of praise 🥹

THANK YOU SO MUCH OMG

[onceuponalegendbg]

Top Ten Ace Attorney Games

So this seems appropriate given recent announcements. Note: I’ve never played the Professor Layton crossover so it will not be on this list. Can’t really rank something you never interacted with, you know? Also, goes without saying but all opinions expressed in this are fully subjective and should be taken with a grain of salt. Like, seriously, guys. I’ve warned you.

10) Apollo Justice - Okay, so I just want to say that AA4 is not a bad game, but good lord is it the one I have the most problems with. Good things first, however. I love the dynamic between Apollo and Trucy. Their banter is so fun. I like this version of Phoenix. Really seems like he’s grown a lot in the time between games due to circumstances. I feel his relationship with Trucy could have been explored more but what we do get is good. Ema’s back, and I’ll never say no to that. Klavier is a good rival for Apollo. All that said, man do I remember barely anything about any of the cases of this game. Outside the main cast I remember Lamoire, Kristoph, and that a couple of Gramaryes are in this one. That last case also just... gives me a headache if I think about it too long.

9) Justice For All - Oh boy. So outside of introducing my favorite Prosecutor of the OG trilogy, JFA is a bit meh overall. Don’t get me wrong, Case 2 with all the Fey Drama is very solid and the final case... Come on, do I really need to say how good the Engarde Case is? I don’t even hate the Berry Big Circus case as much as most people (except for the very uncomfortable love triangle, that I detest) but even I can’t deny it’s one of the weaker cases in the series and the first case is... the whole amnesia device is more annoying than clever. Again, I’m sure I’m not saying anything new here.

8) Ace Attorney: Phoenix Wright - Man, I wonder if this is some form of sacrilegious putting the first game this low on the list. Honestly, there’s not much to truly criticize with this one. It’s a very solid first entry into what would grow into such a beloved franchise. But I also just don’t have a ton of things to say about it in general? At least not many that haven’t already been said by more articulate people than I. It’s a good game. Solid starting point. Weakest case is the first one but... It’s the first case. So. To be expected.

7) Ace Attorney Investigations: Miles Edgeworth - Admittedly, this is only so low because I love the other games more and the last case is.... unbearably long. It was brilliant of Capcom to take what is likely AA’s most popular character and give him his own games, and even better to give us characters like Kay and Lang while also giving us Tiny Franziska. We did not deserve Tiny Franziska but they gave her to us anyway. A very enjoyable foray with a new game-play style.

6) Trials and Tribulations - Oh man, I am going to get so much crap for this one. Before anyone comes at me! Yes! T&T is a near flawless entry. Genuinely, the writing for this one is insane and Dahlia is such a well used antagonist. The through line for this game is masterful. Even the third case, which is indeed the weakest case, I find some charm in. So don’t get me wrong, I’m well aware that objectively this probably should have at least been in the top three. But this isn’t an objective list. This is my list. And while I do love T&T, I just adore the games in the top five more.

5) Ace Attorney Investigations 2: Prosecutor’s Path - An improvement from the first Investigations in almost every way. While I do think that the last case is still a bit too long, I think it’s overall more interesting than the first’s. More of Kay, Miles, and Gumshoe having the best dynamic. The addition of Ray, Sebastian, and Justine only making the cast all the better. Again, I’m a sucker for Justine being the best mom ever and her dynamic with John (and even Sebastian) is something I wish we’d had more of.

4) Dual Destinies - I don’t care what ya’ll say, AA5 is a fun addition and Athena is an amazing new character. I freakin love Athena. Like, I’m sorry but any character that has been through that much crap and still manages to smile and cheer up the people around her even when she’s feeling the absolute worst is a good character and I will die on this hill. Not to mention Blackquill being an equally fantastic rival for our protagonists. And that reveal in the last case while Aura is forcing them to do a retrial for her brother! “Oh but Phoenix is back to being goofy and it’s like AA4 never happened.” “Oh, but Apollo is angsty for no reason.” Sorry, doesn’t bother me. Like, I’m not even willing to call these things nitpicks because they’re just such non-issues for me. The only thing I’ll say is that the models do look a little off sometimes. This is a good game, ya’ll are just mean.

3) Spirit of Justice - So confession, SOJ was the first AA game that I saw from start to finish. I’d tried before but I’d never found the right let’s play of the AA franchise. Then I did find one, and I watched SOJ through start to finish. And I really enjoyed it. I love the setting of Khura’in, Rayfa, the final boss looking like a Power Rangers’ villain. Also, while we do get a lot of father son stuff, I’m such a freakin sucker for the mother daughter stuff between Rayfa and Gharan and Amara. Also, the Magical Turnabout is just... such a fun case? And of course, Maya can’t be in a game without getting accused of murder. But her growth as a character is great. I just really really enjoy this game, guys.

2) Great Ace Attorney: Adventures - I’m sure this comes as very little shock to anyone who knows me. The first GAA game is astounding. I love this cast of characters so much. Susato, Ryu, Sherlock, Iris, Barok, Gina, Toby, they’re all great! The new mechanics with the jury and multiple witnesses on the stand are great. The story is great. Yeah, the first case goes on for too long, but at least it feels fresh due to the new setting and characters. I feel like I can’t properly articulate how much I love this game. Which, speaking of...

1) Great Ace Attorney: Resolve - Yeah, yeah. Predictable, I’m sure. But what can I say, this took everything I loved about the first game and just made it better and expanded on it. The story takes so many twists and turns and it takes the characters and their bonds from the first game and makes me love them even more. WE LOVE THE FOUND FAMILY TROPE! Kazuma comes back and he becomes such a fascinating character. Rei, Courtney Sithe, Esmeralda Tusspells, Drebber are only some of the memorable new characters for this part 2. The fight against Stronghart (Vortex is still the cooler name) is such a triumphant moment! And playing as Susato in the first case!? That was amazing! And Ryu’s growth throughout all of this!? Like excuse me! I love this boy! 

[reversemoon255]

MGEX ZGMF-X20A Strike Freedom Gundam

So I started working on this guy at the end of November. I didn’t finish it until December 31st. I ended up doing a daily art challenge over on the bird, and that ended up taking up almost all my free time considering my work hours double during December. However, I’m glad I finished it before the year rolled over.

The Good: This was a fantastic build. The interior frame was a ton of fun to build, there are a bunch of small mechanisms, interesting parts layering; just a stellar experience all around.

To aid in the build process, it actually came with a small, cardboard “Multi Stand” to hold your in-use sprews. I ended up using it for all the plated and painted sprews.

Speaking of the painted and plated, the number of interesting materials was very cool, and something you don’t get to see if you stick to just HG or standard MG builds. The stickers were metallic foil, there were raised metal stickers as well, there were a full four sprews that were either fully painted or chrome plated in gold. It was honestly one of the things that drew me to this kit.

The layout of the runners was also very well done. With a few small exceptions, almost every part was either undergated or gated into a place that would be covered later by other parts. I had to quickly become very adept at shaving parts with a knife rather than a file.

I was a little bummed that I had to cover up all that gold with armor, and found myself wishing the armor parts were clear so I could see it all better, but after it was finished I was impressed by just how much gold showed through. While I still think I’d prefer clear armor, I’m not upset with what we got. Oh, and it comes with a tiny Lacus and Kira. I don’t care, but maybe you will.

The Bad: I only really have three issues with this kit. The first is the bits: the bits are not designed to be displayed. They have no way of accepting any type of stand adapter to hold them up, and the kit itself has no added display piece for them.

Second is the articulate hands. They’re actually very well articulated (I managed to get a very good snapping pose out of them), but the fingers pop off all the time. All the time. It’s a bummer, since they’re required to use the Beam Sabers.

Lastly are the metallic raised stickers. They just don’t stick well, and if you flex them at all they may stick worse. You also don’t really need most of them, since the armor covers a lot of them up. You just need the chest ones, which get held in place by the vents, and about 3 on each knee. I didn’t end up needing to add glue, but you might.

The Details: Because of how this kit is meant to be built, I only added panel lining. I specifically avoided lining the gold plastic because I’ve had issues with gold plastic degrading over time when ink is added. I did add it to a few tiny “hole” spots, like the head vulcans, but that’s it. I did use all the included standard stickers, though didn’t use the decal stickers they included. I find they can make a kit look too cluttered or marred, and they tend to peel or fall off more easily than normal stickers. I’ve found I prefer building kits without them unless there’s a standout interesting design.

Overall, even though it took me forever to build (which it shouldn’t have), it was probably the coolest build I did in 2022, and a great way to cap it off. It is a very expensive kit, but I do think it’s worth it if you can swing it. It’s an amazing build, a fantastic final product, and is meant to be straight built if that concerns you.

BTW, Fun Fact, I’ve brought up that I play Gundam Breakers Mobile a few times. Strike Freedom is the most common non-custom build to run into. Like, you’re more likely to run into one than a painted custom. Guess it’s popular.

[mari-lair]

☀️, for the ask game

☀️ Has anyone ever left you a comment that made your day? What did it say?

I had a few, but recently only yours come to mind! You went into so many details, and paid so much attention, it got me writing proudly like Nene with her diary.

I worked on the chapter as if I was speedrunning the day I got it, even finished that week! And i still re-read it when I need motivation. I'm determined to make the next chapter long!

And here is what the comment said:

[so, uh, i may or may not have forgotten to comment on this for half a month… well, to compensate for my lateness i’ve decided to write my thoughts on this chapter in excruciating detail because i’m actually very normal (i swear)

1. THEY SHAKED HANDS… OH MY GOD… look it may not seem like much but when you think about it hand shaking is pretty much just hand holding with extra steps, so basically they just held hands (good for them!!!)

2. aka’s relationship with mirai is. so much to me. AND DRAWING PARALLELS TO TERU AND TIARA’S RELATIONSHIP… LITERALLY RATTLING MY CAGE BARS SO HARD AT THIS!!! also them agreeing that teru’s a piece of crap is so iconic fr

3. aka offering for teru to braid his hair is so damn telling of how theyre slowly but surely getting closer and starting to trust each other a bit and i just. AAAHHDJFJFJFJFJFJFFJAJSKDKKD. THIS IS DRIVING ME INSANE /POS

4. omg i remember when i was looking at one of the wips and i was like ‘wait op isn’t gonna pull a chapter 26 right…’ and i am SO GLAD that i dodged apollo’s dodgeball there because i’d probably cry if that happened

5. ‘wiggling around like a pathetic worm’ is such a Sentence™ and now it’ll be forever ingrained in my mind, i bet ten dollars i’m gonna end up quoting that like five times in a row while knowing damn well that nobody’s gonna fully understand me

6. aka’s reaction to teru being taller than him is so comically paradigmatic of their relationship like damn, i’m gonna go sit in a corner and think about that for a while gimme a few okay (and by ‘a few’ i mean the next few YEARS)

7. the part where teru ruffles aka’s hair and notices how cold it is OH MY GOD AJSKJDKDKFKF???? i think i’ll have to change that from a few years to a few decades… may or may not have led me down a rabbit hole of thoughts on aka’s lack of humanity ngl 😳😳😳 i’m like 2 seconds away from writing a small essay about it someone needs to either stop me or encourage me right now

8. ‘it was as if growing up made teru lose his survival instincts’… HEY, WHAT DOES THIS MEAN 😀 is it because he eventually falls in love with aka… i know what you are, teru 🤨📸 BUT ALSO WHAT IF IT’S SOMETHING ELSE okay i don’t know what else it could be atm but whatever it is i have a feeling it would not be good

9. tbh… i’m becoming a rita stan (i said, not even having the faintest idea of what she looks like because i can’t imagine people for the life of me) wait actually. you should draw her /nf… if you don’t do it first then i’ll just have to draw her myself ig

10. TERU CALLING AKA BY HIS NAME. TERU GETTING GENUINELY WORRIED FOR AKA. i am going to lock myself in my dryer and never come out omg i’m going to cry this is so important to me i’m never gonna dance again because of this

11. the way he’s starting to care about aka… i’m literally going to cry… god the way you write character dynamics and development is literally going to make me rip my eyes out IT’S SO GOOD AJKDDJKDKDFK. and the way he was denying it so hard too 😭😭 it’s like, he’s trying so much to convince himself that he doesn’t care about aka and i just,,, IT’S SO. YK

12. this is like. stage one: Denial™, yk. like he says and does all these things to try and distract from how he actually feels, HE OVERCOMPENSATES SO MUCH LMAO, idk how to articulate it but this is going to be the death of me, i was just waiting for him to realize just how much he cares deep down yk… actually this entire fic is just killing me to death tbh

13. AND THEN WHEN HE FINALLY ADMITS IT TO HIMSELF OH MY GOD. I’M GOING TO SLAM HIM INTO A MICROWAVE THIS LITERALLY MEANS EVERYTHING I’M USING EVERY FIBRE OF MY BEING TO NOT SCREAM AND SHOUT RN

14. and then of course he tries to pin the blame on aka, like he’s just doing everything in his power to deny his feelings lmaoo, that’s literally so in character for him… like who’s gonna tell him about friendship /j, btw this fic is stabbing me cesear-style rn

15. AND THEN THE ENDING OH MY GOD… NOW THAT’S HOW YOU END A CHAPTER FR!! i am currently going to explode with anticipation for the next chapter, i’m actually never going to shut up about this fic tbh

i don’t really know a good way to finish this small essay of a comment off, so i’ll just quote something i texted to a friend while in the middle of writing this: ‘i fink that fic may have ruined me tbh but it’s too radballs for me to go back now’. i think that adequately summarizes my thoughts on this tbh

so uh yeah!!! thanks for reading exactly 895 words of me incoherently rambling about this fic, next time i’m going to make a google slides presentation /j but seriously i love this fic so much and i can’t wait to see where it goes next!]

[rottenbrainstuff]

BG3 playthrough - GATHER YOUR ALLIES, MUTHAFUKKERS

I thought “fight the elder brain” would be a relatively quick encounter but surprise: it is not! I thought I was going to be able to wrap everything up last night but I had to take a break. Spoilers below the cut.

The elder brain has a different and interesting conversation with you if you’re a durge - it seems I am still facing the consequences of my actions. When she said the plan would have worked if I had stayed in the group, I’m… gosh I don’t know how to feel about that… how.. Interesting to hear that I was… a great tyrant…oh… good…?

Voss said Orpheus would slander my name and indeed he did, accusing me of stealing an unborn gith child! I assume this is on purpose to make it seem like Orpheus won’t be friendly, and not a glitch where the game thinks I did something bad? Cause excuse you me I did not STEAL A CHILD, I was GIVEN an egg by the CRECHE BABYSITTER who was afraid that the egg was going to be destroyed, and I protected it TWICE from sketchy Society of Brilliance people who offered to buy it off me. Then Orpheus went on to say the CORRECT action I SHOULD have done was to let his attacking honor guard kill me honorably, and because I didn’t, all these deaths were on my head. Ok. Ok. Needless to say, I didn’t shed any tears when he transformed into a mindflayer.

I do like that the choice between Orpheus and the Emperor is not exactly clear cut, there are some people who like the Emperor and want to side with it. I do feel like in its own way it has been working hard to help, it has, and like I said, Orpheus sure didn’t exactly win me over. BUT, but, in the end the Emperor reminds me too much of shitty people in my past, gaslighting and manipulating me. Everything it says has an aspect of the truth, which makes it hard to argue against, but you know in your gut there’s something wrong there, even if you can’t articulate it. When WE don’t trust it and hide things from it, it’s us being unwilling to work together, us being prejudiced against mindflayers, etc, but when IT withholds things from US, oh well that’s a totally different story, it HAD to do it, that was DIFFERENT, it’s DIFFERENT when it applies to itself, and we have a different set of rules. Yeah, fuck that, I’ve heard allllll of that before. It’s funny because I DO kind of see its point of view, when it summarized all the things it had done to help us in the past, I had to agree, but… yeah. That lecture about trust, the attitude it takes with us, I mean amazing writing on Larian’s part - the way the Emperor talked to us in that scene felt sooo disgustingly familiar, made me sick, and it might be some of my player issues bleeding through into my character, but that was it for my tav, that was it.

So the Emperor fucks off and says now we’ve left it NO OTHER CHOICE AT ALL, it is FORCED to join with the elder brain. Yeah, no. That’s not the only choice left, that doesn’t even make any sense my buddy, and you’re not blaming me for that, this isn’t my first rodeo with this bullshit, fuck you. Byeee.

Alright let’s go. It’s stressful to see the city ruined like this - my tav is so protective of his people, but he has to just trust they’re going to be able to save themselves right now.

GATHER YOUR ALLIES - aaaaah I was looking forward to this for weeks!!! It’s so satisfying to see everyone I helped all gather together. Except the Gondians, who are in my ally list but don’t show up at the final battle, lol. It’s also really not great how Zevlor feels tacked on… here he is, he’s back and he’s a hellrider again, somehow, no we didn’t record any chat dialogue for him because we didn’t have time / didn’t think you’d want it? Like man even freaking VOLO comes and hangs out at my camp. Myeh. Whatever. I’ll take what I can get I guess. I’d rather have this somewhat incomplete conclusion than a fully complete version where he betrays the grove like in the EA.

I believe I managed to collect every single non-evil-choice ally. Eh. And… maybe one evil choice ally? If you count the strange ox as an evil choice? Oops? I dunno guys, I dunno, we had a good chat there at the inn in act 2, I… didn’t… lol I have no excuse. I helped the ox, I don’t know why. Let’s just hope it keeps its desire for bloodshed sated with smugglers and thieves hiding out in the sewers, I guess?...

After that you can give a rousing… well… a rousing single line of dialogue, anyways. But, if you have Minsc in your party, you can defer to him to give the rallying speech, (I guess a nod to the old games?) and it’s actually pretty touching. He says he used to count the steps he had taken away from his home in Rashemon. He had to stop and let Boo do the counting instead because the number got too high and it made his head hurt - and his heart. But now he considers the number of steps to be zero, because he feels like Baldur’s Gate is his home now, and he will fight to defend his home! Your one little voiceless line of dialogue really pales in comparison tbh. It’s a bit too bad… I wish your own character had a similarly rousing moment. I feel like this would have been a great place to have your tav VA record a couple dialogue lines for a little speech, and that would have felt really neat, similar to what happens when a durge fights Orin. Oh well.

PHEW. Onward to victory! Here we are at the end of the playthrough. Hard to believe.

(the cranium rats all stopping to look at me was a bizarre and fun touch!!! Guess how many times I had to reload back to the boat because I forgot the hammer or some other item?)

[castielcommunism]

for me an essential element of dean’s character is that there’s some unspoken part of him that always goes unresolved. like dean is someone who is heavily repressed and limited by the facts of his upbringing and his life, but for me I think that unresolved-ness goes deeper than that. that even if you were to remove him from hunting and permanently place him in a stable and loving environment, there would still be some part of dean that is in perpetual disquiet. collapsing all the tensions that hold dean together would mean collapsing the character itself. and I think where this particular disquiet resides is in the realm of his relationship to masculinity.

and I don’t mean this in a depressing way! I’ve been trying to articulate why certain fanon trends don’t really do much for me personally without sounding like a spoil sport. but I find the popular interpretation of dean as transmasc un-compelling FOR ME PERSONALLY because for me transness has always been about self actualisation. It was like the missing puzzle piece in my life finally slotted into place and I no longer interacted with the world through a haze of existential confusion. my “problem” was, in a word, resolved when I discovered I was trans.

but back to dean. this tension of dean clearly having something vaguely wrong with him and covering it up by trying to be The Perfect Son is such a fundamental component of who he is that, even in an ideal scenario (be it post-canon or alt canon or what have you) where dean is living the normal life he wants to live, there’s just something about him that still feels slightly out of reach. dean is a guy who is never fully at peace with himself and he has, ironically, made peace with that unease. he failed at being a son, he tends to fail pretty frequently at being a man, he failed his brother, he fails fails fails. and the “self-actualisation” component for dean that I’m partial to is one where he embraces this failure for what it is. guess I’m just a bad son! guess I just suck at being a dude! oh well! guess there’s just something wrong with me. and he doesn’t move past that. he just makes peace with that and doesn’t pick at it further.

so like the incredibly specific flavour of trans dean that I like is one where it’s always beneath the surface. it’s not a conscious thing in that he can think about it in concrete terms, it’s just this vague notion of self-otherness that doesn’t go away. he is clearly not good at being a man, and it’s certainly not for lack of trying. but manhood is what he’s used to and what he knows best, so he just keeps going through the motions of being a man because in the grand scheme of things it’s not that big a deal. small, private transgressions of gender are savoured and sporadic, taken at face value as “indulgences” and then never examined beyond that. I like the idea of dean as vaguely nonbinary but he himself isn’t aware of it. it’s always unresolved.

I feel like I’m still not explaining myself well lol. I just personally can’t conceive of dean as someone who goes through big revelations about his identity because a core part of his identity is the fact that he will always be a try-hard and he’ll never quite know why - he did everything his father ever asked of him and it still wasn’t good enough, so it must be something deeper than feeling or reason (the truth of course being that john withheld approval as a form of control, but also dean couldn’t ever be what his dad wanted anyway because he’s not that kind of man). and that informs not only his relationship with other men but also his relationship with his own masculinity. this disquiet with his own manhood hangs eternally suspended, unspoken but present in his life, this almost comforting constant of yeah lol I guess I’m just weird. oh well. he’s not out and proud, nor is he ashamed, it just is what it is.

[ghostbustermelanieking]

67 for the kiss prompts 👀

of course it's another safehouse fic! warning for some self-loathing on the parts of jon and martin. 

67. When One Stops The Kiss To Whisper “I’m Sorry, Are You Sure You-” And They Answer By Kissing Them More.

Jon's on the phone with Basira in the other room. Martin can hear the rise and fall of his voice through the walls. He halfway wishes he'd said yes to Jon's offer to put her on speaker—he wants to know how bad it is. Wants to know exactly how badly he fucked up when he followed Peter into those tunnels (in more than just the obvious ways). 

Jon's said it wasn't his fault. Said that this morning, over the eggs he'd scrambled on a whim that were going cold on Martin's plate, covering Martin's hand with his: "It wasn't your fault, Martin. It wasn't. I-it wasn't even just the Not-Sasha, it… Trevor and Julia…" And then he'd stopped, a pained expression on his face, and Martin knew he wasn't the only one feeling guilty for everything that happened at the Panopticon the day before. 

The reality of Jon being here is still so new, so strange, after not talking for months, for a year, what with the coma, and the Lonely… Martin doesn't think he ever even had Jon to his flat before this; he thinks he suggested it once, after a drink one night, if Jon wanted to come back and have some tea, and Jon had politely said no, thank you, with a look in his eyes that made Martin think maybe he was thinking about all the kidnappings. So, yes, this is the first time Jon's ever been here. After months of silence, months of Martin talking himself out of going down the hall and talking to Jon, telling Jon how glad he was that he's alive, how sorry he was that he couldn't stay, how much he hated this, every bit of it… After it all, Jon came for him. Peter's dead, and there's no reason for them to stay away now. 

It's a relief, beyond what Martin will ever be able to articulate, but it's still strange, after all this time. Waking up in his bed to find Jon lying on the other side, stiff and tentative under the covers. To find Jon in the kitchen after a shower, making eggs and tea. To have Jon halfway holding his hand. Even after everything—after that period before the Unknowing where they were really sort of friends… this is surreal in a way Martin can't really explain.

Jon had actually held his hand all the way out of the Lonely, all the way back to his flat. Had reached for it over the expanse of Martin's mattress and held on. Martin doesn't remember him letting go. He doesn't remember ever wanting him to. It's a good surreal, he thinks. It's good. 

Jon comes out of the kitchen, now, his hand clutched around his phone, his face grim. Martin startles a little, his hands clenching together in his lap. "H-how was it?" he says. "Is it… d-do they have any sign of…" (Basira had filled them in on Daisy last night.)

"No, no, no sign." Jon sighs a little. Sits down on the couch beside Martin, so close their knees bump together. He doesn't meet Martin's eyes. 

Martin feels a habitual lump of worry rise in his throat. "You can tell me, Jon," he says, in case Jon is trying to shield him somehow. "It's… it's bad, isn't it?"

"I… yeah. Yeah, it's not good." Jon looks at him finally, his expression suggesting that’s all he’s going to say, like he’s going to try and protect Martin no matter what Martin says. “Basira… Basira says they’ll blame me,” he adds. “Again. She says they were already asking questions, they… sh-she said they’ll be looking for me again.”

" What? " Martin's aware his voice sounds insulted, and he is, on Jon's behalf, framed again for murders he didn't commit. (Well. Jon did kill Peter, but. Martin's not mourning that, not at all, he deserved it, and Peter isolated himself enough that the police shouldn't be looking for him. And the thought of Jon being blamed again for something he didn't even do…) "You didn't do anything, h-how can they blame you?"

Jon laughs a little, quiet bitterness in there. "It's easy. A-and it is my fault, sort of. I'm the one who antagonized Julia and Trevor. I'm the one who… who kept that stupid table, and then destroyed it and let that thing out. I'm the one who…" He stops. Winces, shakes his head a little. "I-it doesn't matter," he says. "Basira's sure they'll blame me. She says I need to get out of London." 

Martin latches onto that, his heart leaping in his throat. Maybe he has no right to be this concerned, considering he's holed himself up for months, ignoring Jon and working with Peter for a plan that didn't even do anything —but he can't help but panic at the idea of Jon leaving again, going somewhere else, somewhere where they can't keep him safe… Not that Jon isn't entirely self-sufficient, he's been fine all this time, he's saved Martin, and not that Martin's been doing a good job at all, considering everything, Jon came into the Lonely because of him and could've just as easily been lost, and it would've been his fault. But after everything… America, Ny-Alesund, the Unknowing, every time Jon went somewhere and Martin didn't, and something horrible happened, and Martin just… 

He tries to force the panic out of his voice, tries to speak levelly when he says, "Leave… leave London? And go where? "

"Scotland, apparently. Daisy has a safehouse that she… that she obviously won't be doing, and Basira said…" Jon swallows hard, looks away. "Well, she said I should leave right away. She said she would bring me the key here, and I should leave on the next train." 

"Oh," says Martin. A part of him is nearly shouting, Don't go, don't leave me here, but this is ridiculous, Jon has to go, and he can't ask… not after everything Jon's done… (But he doesn't want Jon to leave, he doesn't want to be alone again.) "I… y-yeah. Yeah, that's best," he says, because he can't, and he'd rather have Jon alive and somewhere else than arrested or dead, again, and his throat is closing up a little. "If they're looking for you, you should leave as soon as possible." 

"Right," says Jon. "Right, a-and I would…" He's staring down at his hands, intently, like he's trying to find answers in the lines of his palms. Martin is thinking absently that he does that, too, and isn't it funny how many habits he and Jon share that he's never realized, when Jon looks up abruptly. He's got an expression that's almost shy on his face; he says, "I-I was wondering if you'd like to come with me."

They're quiet for a moment.. Martin's staring; he thinks he definitely might be staring. His mouth might be hanging open. Jon starts talking again, too fast and stammering and anxious: "O-obviously if you don't want to, th-there's no obligation, of course, i-it's just that I… well, I haven't seen you for such a long time, Martin, and w-we just started talking again, and I… I thought you might want t-to get out of here, maybe, the Institute, it's… and I don't want you to be alo—" 

Martin kisses him. Leans forward, just like that, and abruptly kisses Jon, cutting him off mid-sentence. Jon makes a little sound, a punched-out gasp, and his hand moves up, resting suddenly against Martin's jaw. 

It takes a moment for Martin to fully connect his actions— Jon just asked me to go to Scotland and You just kissed him —and he pulls away abruptly. "I-I'm sorry," he says wildly, thinking I should've asked, thinking Martin, you idiot, just because he followed you into the Lonely doesn't mean he wants to… 

Jon's looking at him. His eyes are dark and wet and full of some emotion Martin can't place, and he's just looking at him. His hand is still on Martin's jaw, his fingers warm against Martin's chilly skin. Martin's eyes dart to the side—to Jon's fingers, his bitten nails, resting against Martin's cheek—and then back to Jon. "I'm sorry," he says again, and Jon shakes his head, just a little. Rubs a thumb over Martin's cheek. 

The gesture is enough to make Martin want to break. Just shatter in a dozen little pieces inside. He's not sure what to say—his brain, wildly grasping, comes up with, "Are you sure you—" And Jon leans forward, just as abruptly as Martin did, and kisses him again. Kisses him gently, sweetly, with a sort of underlying desperation that sounds like it did in the Lonely last night. We need you. I need you. His hands are still on Martin's face. 

Martin makes a little sound of shock. Fumbles up with shaking hands to cover Jon's hand with his, to grasp it gently and desperately (the way Jon is kissing him) and not let go. Not this time.

Jon's the one to pull away, first, just far enough to rest his forehead against Martin's. He laughs a little, nervous energy, and doesn't let go of Martin's hand. "You don't need to apologize, Martin, you…" He laughs again, quietly. "I'm very sure. I am. I've been wanting to do that for… quite a long time."

"Oh," Martin says faintly, his thumb tracing the line of Jon's palm. "You have?"

Jon nods, his forehead thunking lightly against Martin's with the motion. Martin chuckles. "Me… me, too."

"Oh," Jon says softly. He squeezes Martin's hand. 

Martin looks down at their joined hands (on his knee, now), leaning into Jon a little. (Just a little.). "Yes," he says, and there is no tremble, no hint of hesitation in his voice. He's sure about this, maybe the surest he's been in a long time. "Yes, I'll go to Scotland with you."

[oitommothetease]

Invisible String (9/?)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female reader (Modern AU)

Word Count: 2k words

You weren't a morning person, hell, you weren’t even a person in the morning. Therefore, when you woke up to two kids playing with your hair and jumping on your bed, you wanted to strangle them or shove them on the floor. But again, you loved those little demons so you just groaned loudly, clearly irritated and you decided to keep your eyes closed, hoping that your ignorance will make them leave you alone. You squeezed your eyes shut and didn't open them until you heard a familiar voice chuckling.

“Carol told me you aren't a morning person, but this-” James didn't finish his sentence, his lips breaking into a cheeky grin, and as much annoyed as you were at his teasing, you kind of thought he looked gorgeous. Who looked so gorgeous this early in the morning? A smile made its way to your face and you instantly wiped it off, feigning offense.

“Carol? You're already on a first-name basis with my sister?”

“Aw, don't worry, doll. I'm just trying to be friendly with your family or should I say my future family as your mother reminded me ten minutes ago,” he pestered, moving towards you to hand you the cup of coffee in his hand. Bucky winked teasingly when you accepted it, and you mumbled a ‘thank you’.

That pet name made your stomach do some somersaults and you didn't trust yourself enough to speak. It's not like the first time he called you ‘doll’, in fact, he had been calling you that the moment you started fake dating. But it was something about the way he said it as if the word was made for you and nobody could say that word unless it wasn't voiced by him for you. He didn't notice the flush in your eyes and even if he did, he didn't mention it.

“That’s it. You’re done hanging out with my family,” you articulated, “You are officially infected.” 

“Don’t be like that, doll. Come on, breakfast’s ready.”

At the age of 18, when you were finally a college girl, you decided that breakfast was a myth created by Satan. When you lived with your parents, the breakfast consisted of extravagant food like pancakes, waffles and fruits. Once you moved away for college, your breakfast shifted to coffee and maybe a toast if you had the time before your first lecture. And the second you were independent, coffee became your boyfriend, keeping you up at night and also, your best friend, keeping you up in the morning without dozing off in classes.

So, sitting again at a dining table with your family and fake boyfriend/boss was very awkward, to say the least. But of course, your sister had the magical ability where she took an awkward silence and converted it into an uncomfortable conversation.

“We hope we didn't wake you up last night. Nick and I tend to get loud sometimes,” Carol joked and you coughed, choking on your food, and James laughed awkwardly. 

James' hand instinctively came to your back, running calming circles with his palm and you shot a deathly glare to your sister. 

“Oh, we know all about that,” James teased, bringing your chair closer to him. Your eyes widened and you whipped your head towards him so quickly that your neck hurt. What was he saying? This man, your boyfriend, fake boyfriend was a completely different person than your boss (not that you were complaining). He was funny, charming, he made you feel comfortable and something else you weren’t ready to point out just yet.

You could see yourself falling for a man like James. No, he is your boss and sort of criminal. Get your shit together, you told yourself.

After the very awkward breakfast, thanks to Carol. Your mother told you to show James around town and you would have said no but that meant you’d have to stay at home with your family, which was worse. So when James accepted your offer to go to your favorite burger place nearby, you were relieved.

“This burger is amazing, but nothing compared to Barry’s,” James stated. 

You nodded your head, chewing the remnant of food in your mouth properly before speaking, “Nothing compares to Sally and her food.”

You liked being with James, everything about him made you want this, the real thing with him, not the whole faux boyfriend play. You wanted him and you were sure that he didn’t. One look at him was sufficient for anyone to know how handsome he was, and how oblivious he was to the waitress ogling him. He didn’t spare her a glance, he was probably used to the attention that he stopped caring about it. Of course, if you weren't overthinking at the moment, you would have noticed that he didn't care about anyone else - well, except you. 

“The waitress was totally checking you out,” you informed James. You were very jealous, but you wouldn't stop your crush on your boss to stop him from living his life. He had already sacrificed a lot for you, you didn't want to cock-block him on top of that.

“No, she wasn’t,” he huffed, looking at you for any sign that this conversation displeased you the way it did him.

“I swear she was,” you said, “You should ask her out. She’s cute.”

 “No, I’m taken.”

“But you’re not taken, James. This isn’t real,” you retorted and it hurt you so much to say. Sometimes you wished you could be a selfish bitch but you couldn’t do that to James. He deserves someone who would cherish and love him, not give him a faux relationship. “You should ask her out.”

 “Do you want me to?” James asked, his voice was laced with desperation that you couldn't understand. Why would he care about your opinion?

Bucky hoped that you would say no, he needed a sign to know that you wanted him too. His tone was despondent because he was hoping that this could be more. He really wanted it to be. But when you said yes, everything came shattering down for him. You didn’t want him and God, he was so frustrated that he could cry. What sick game was the universe playing with him? He felt like a rat stuck in a cage with cheese right outside, in front of him. Even though he was so close to you, you were still out of his reach.

“You know what?,” he pondered, “Now that I think about it maybe I should ask her out?”

“Like right now?” you questioned, taken aback by his sudden and unexpected change in demeanor.

“Yeah!” he cheered enthusiastically, “No time like the present, right? You can get home by yourself?”

He didn’t wait for your answer, already walking back towards the restaurant, and you murmured a ‘yeah’ which he didn’t even notice because he was already jogging towards the burger place.

When you reached home alone, tears welled up in your eyes, and you ran up to the bathroom to avoid stumbling upon your family. Maybe you shouldn't have pushed him, maybe if you didn’t then he wouldn’t have pursued the waitress. He wouldn’t have gone if you didn’t shove him towards the cute waitress. Why were you such a good person?

Your thoughts were brought to a halt with frantic knocks on the door. Instantly, you wiped your eyes and opened up the door to be met with your sister’s kids. Izzy and Alex didn’t give you any time before getting a hold of your hand and rushing you outside to help them set up the trampoline.

Your family was already out there, and you hoped your face didn’t say, ’I've been crying in the bathroom.’ Your sister and her husband were seated on a blanket which was spread out on the grass, sipping wine, and your parents were admiring their grandchildren.

“Auntie Y/N!” Alex exclaimed and Izzy added, “Help us fix the trampoline please.”

You agreed because those two were the only people in the world that considered you their friend without asking for anything in return. Moreover, it was a good distraction, if you stayed in a room thinking about James, then you would probably lose your sanity. So, once you started setting up the trampoline for the kids, it became somewhat fun, and you almost forgot all about James, and how he must be talking to that girl and how that girl must be flirting with him. You hoped he didn’t call her doll, you knew you were being unreasonable and immature, but you couldn’t help yourself.

Izzy and Alex made their way towards their parents and whispered something about you being so in love with James that his absence made you angry.

You ignored them and the way your sister smiled, you were so focused on fitting the trampoline spring that you did not realize someone was standing behind you until two strong hands came around you, taking the spring from your hand and attaching it to the corner. 

You knew it was James, no one would touch your hand so gently, any other man would have snatched the spring from your hold and mansplained it’s process to you. But James wasn’t doing that, he wanted to be near you, to have your attention fully that is why he took the spring from you. He didn’t undermine you. No, he desired you to notice him, the guy who has been trying all weekend to get you to like him. He wanted you to see Bucky, not your boss, James.

You could feel his head looming over your shoulder, you dared to crane your neck in his direction to find him already looking at you with a smile on his face. You were so dazed in his eyes that you didn’t notice that he was wearing a white shirt instead of the one he wore in the morning. You did not notice that he didn’t leave you to get the waitress’s number, instead he got a customized shirt that read 'I heart Y/N'. You only noticed him.

Furthermore, you didn’t care about anything else at the moment, just him. Bucky eyed your lips longer than he should have and leaned a bit towards you; a question. You answered his question by closing the distance between you and crashing your lips with his. His hands engulfed around your waist, flushing your back against his chest and he kissed you feverishly. 

The kids were right.

You were in love, and that love was reciprocated by the man who was holding you like you were his archer and kissing you like you were the source of his last breath. But both of you were too unaware to realize that the other felt the same way.

Everyone could see that, your mother looked over at your father and your sister looked at her husband, smiling, reminiscing the way they fell in love just like you and Bucky. The kids looked at you both with hope, aspiring to have a love like that in their future, the kind they saw in movies and in the couples around them.

What you didn't realize was that there was one other set of eyes watching you from a car in the distance. Rumlow finally found his rival's vulnerability, and he was going to do everything in his power to exploit and eventually kill Bucky’s weakness, his love, you. 

TAGS:  @bananapipedreams​ @akkinda10​ @rivers-rambles21​ @emmabarnes​ @valsworldofcreativity​ @boofy1998​ @marvel-3407​ @mybuck​ @priii​ @coffeebooksandfandom​ @ladydmalfoy​ @shaking-a-jar-of-bees 

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

Honest and Truly

Summary: Spencer has his prom 10 years late, but none of that matters when it's with the girl of his dreams.

Word Count: 4.8 k

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female (She/Her)-- Fluff

CW: Minimal vulgar language (PG-13)

Author's Note: This just might be my most favorite thing I've written in a very long time :) Also listen to the song I linked, it makes the title and the ending make more sense! thank you to @spookydrreid and @writhingintheroses for helping me a particular scene!!

Add yourself to my taglist! It makes it much easier for me :)

Honest and Truly

“A prom?” Spencer asks, realizing that the conversation had entered uncharted territory, a territory in which he had not a single clue how to navigate. Spencer, being a preteen in high school, never attended prom.

“Yes, Reid. A prom,” Penelope says, staring at him over the many monitors and stuffed cats that littered her desk, “It’s going to be so much fun!” she says, excitedly.

“That sounds like, uh, I’ll have plans that night,” Spencer tells Penelope, spinning around in the swivel chair as he eats his turkey and cheese sandwich. He usually enjoys their lunches together, but when Penelope gets an idea in her head, there’s no stopping her.

@s“Now I don’t believe that for a second, Reid. The only time that you have plans is when you’re with Y/N. And Y/N is going to be at this prom,” Garcia says, her pink glasses sliding down her nose. She winks at Reid, almost like she enjoys watching him squirm.

“How do you know that she’s going? Did she say she’s going?” Spencer asks, unable to conceal his eagerness that Y/N could be attending. Spencer might hate dancing and those fancy shoes that are too tight on his toes, but all that can be talked away if Y/N is there.

“Yes, she’s going because you’re asking her. That and I’m making everyone go,” Penelope says matter of factly.

Spencer opens his mouth, attempting to talk away Penelope’s suggestion. But Spencer Reid is a smart man and he knows better than trying to argue his way out with Penelope. Especially when it comes to Y/N. He might have an excellent poker face, but Spencer can’t hide his love for Y/N.

“I’m not going to ask her. You know she’ll think it’s because-” Spencer says, prepping for a long winded rant before the door of Penelope’s office swings open.

Y/N, with two coffees in hand, floats into the room like she’s walking on air. Or maybe it’s Spencer’s mind that’s floating when Y/N walks in. He can never tell. Whenever he’s near her, it’s like everything is sweeter, lighter and airier. Wordlessly, she passes the coffee to Spencer. Feeling her fingertips graze his reminds him of how pathetic he must be. He nods, telling her thanks, knowing that he’s unable to fully articulate just how grateful he is for the littlest things.

“Who are you not going to ask and to where, Spence?” Y/N says, leaning against the filing cabinets and sipping her coffee. Penelope, never one to be quiet, silently watches as Spencer and Y/N converse. Spencer looks up at her, feeling that light and airy feeling again. He brushes his hair that falls against his forehead nervously thinking of an answer.

“I- uh, I was thinking of asking my mother to come stay with me for a couple of weeks. You know, she hasn’t seen DC in a couple of years. And I do have some personal days banked,” Spencer says, telling Y/N a small white lie.

“She’s in Vegas, right?” Y/N asks, interested in what Spencer is saying, which is something that he’s still not used to. Spencer nods, smiling awkwardly.

“Yeah, she says that she likes the heat,” Spencer says, hating how formal and cold the conversation sounds. It’s normally flowing with easy and familiarity, but something is wedged between them. Penelope, long forgotten by the pair, types rapidly on her keyboard.

“You know, Spence. If you’re up for it maybe we can have lunch or meet at Elmwood Park. I’d love to meet the woman that made my favorite person,” she says, staring directly into Spencer’s eyes. Her stare is so intense that it’s like she’s looking into his soul. He thinks that if she looks deep enough she’ll see her own reflection because his soul belongs to her.

“I-I uh,” Spencer says, immediately thinking that he should actually invite his mother out for a visit, “I think that’s a good idea. She likes the sites and all,” he tells her nervously, trying to ease his beating heart.

He’s her favorite person.

Out of all the people in this city, this world. He’s her favorite person. Spencer, a lover of math, is tempted to figure out the odds of being his favorite person’s favorite person. He knows it’s slim. He knows it’s rare. It’s something magical and Spencer is terrified he’s going to ruin it. He’s terrified he’s going to fuck something up that’s not even his.

“It’s a date,” Y/N says, turning to Penelope, who’s still long forgotten, “Oh, Penny, you need to yell at Morgan for me. He ate my leftovers,” she tells Penelope, who feigns horror, “And now I don’t have lunch”

“How dare he!” Penelope says, her exaggerated response inciting chuckles, “he can get away with murder because he’s pretty,” she says, shaking her head.

He knows that she’s pretending to be disappointed, but he still doesn’t like to see it. Spencer unwraps the other half of his turkey and cheese sandwich and hands it to Y/N. She looks surprised, as if Spencer just handed her a million bucks.

“Spence, you don’t have to,” Y/N says, softly, handing back the half of the sandwich, “It’s your sandwich, I don’t want you to feel-”

“Eat it, Y/N,” Spencer says firmly, looking straight at Y/N, “You need to eat something. We both live off coffee as it is,” he says, hoping that Y/N will take the sandwich.

He’s looking straight at her and she’s looking straight at him. Spencer wonders if he looks deep enough he’ll reach her soul. He dares to think that if he can find her soul, he’ll stare at his face. He’s her favorite person after all, that’s got to count for something.

“Thanks, Spence,” Y/N says, smiling softly, “You make the best sandwiches,” she tells him, taking a bite of the sandwich as Garcia’s eyes flit from Spencer to Y/N. Back and forth, she watches the pair engage in the world’s best miscommunication.

“Y/N, did you hear? I’m throwing a prom!” Garcia says excitedly, hoping that Y/N’s reaction will be more enthusiastic than Spencer’s.

“A prom?” Y/N asks, unconvincingly, “God, I hated my prom. I got punched spilled all over my dress and my date tried to sneak alcohol into the banquet hall. It was a shitshow,” Y/N says, remembering the less than happy memories from high school.

“I didn’t go to prom. You know, between being a 12 year old and a dork,” Spencer says, self deprecatingly, “It’s not the ideal scenario, but I am familiar with the cultural significance of proms in American high school,” Spencer says, speaking to no one in particular, yet looking at Y/N directly.

“Maybe we’ll both get the prom night we deserve, Spence,” Y/N offers, tossing out her wax paper wrapper. She walks past him and it’s like the air is sweeter. He believes in science, but loves magic. Y/N is magic.

“Maybe,” Spencer says, refusing to make eye contact with Penelope, “you know, sorry to uh, cut this short. I have some paperwork to finish. Hotch’s been on me all day about it. So, uh, see you later,” he says, walking out of Penelope's office like a bat out of hell.

He tries to ignore the knowing stares from Penelope and Y/N’s confusion as he ducks out and walks into the bullpen. Spencer doesn’t have paperwork. He finished all his paperwork by 11:12 am. But what Spencer does have is a flight from Vegas to Quantico to book.

And prom shopping.

___

As it turns out, Spencer doesn’t know much about teenage American culture. Sure he’s seen 90s movies that Y/N forced him to watch. But it was quite difficult to pay attention when all he could feel was Y/N’s fingers brushing up against his in their shared bucket of popcorn or her head laying against his shoulder when she got tired.

He doesn’t know much of anything when it comes to romance. But he knows that he loves Y/N— and hopefully that’s enough. He still hasn’t asked her if she’d go with him. Honestly, he’s not too sure why he even has to ask her in the first place. She’s going to be there already, but Garcia and Morgan convinced him that it’s part of the so-called “Prom Experience”

“Spence,” Y/N says, she’s perched on the tall bar stool and rests her elbows on her kitchen island, “did you find a suit yet? I was thinking that we can go to that vintage store on Rock Ave. They have a surprisingly good size selection, and I think that this whole vintage thing fits your aesthetic really well,”

“My aesthetic?” Spencer questions, again lost at sea.

“You know, you’re like nerdy chic. Equal parts dorky and equal parts handsome,” she tells him. He feels his cheeks burn at her words.

Handsome

“I don’t know if that’s a compliment or not,” Spencer says, eyeing Y/N over the rim of his hot coffee.

“It is,” Y/N says like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Like him being handsome is just as obvious as him being dorky, “And get your wallet. We’re going to the vintage store,”

Spencer has a hate-love relationship with weekends. He loves spending time with Y/N where it was so easy to pretend that she loves him as he loves her. He hates the weekends for the same reason he loves them. Spencer knows that it’s all fake. It’s a façade of the truth.

“Spence! You’d look great in this,” Y/N suggests, holding up a gray sports coat, “I think it will match your eyes perfectly,”

“If you think so, Y/N,” Spencer says, nodding his head in agreement. She continues eyeing him as if she’s imagining what he’d look like in the jacket. He has to admit, it’s a very nice jacket.

“Come on, Spence. There’s a mirror over in the corner. Try it on for me,” she requests and not even a second later Spencer finds himself being dragged by the hand to try on the suit jacket.

Y/N holds the jacket open for him as he slips it on through his arms. He’s surprised to realize that it fits perfectly. He looks into the mirror, staring at his face and Y/N, who tugs and smooths the jacket. Spencer can’t look too much longer because if he does the lines between reality and fantasy will be difficult to distinguish. As much as he wants to stare into the mirror all day long, pretending that this is real, he much rather it actually be real. But wishing and dreaming only ends up with battle wounds and broken hearts.

“You look very handsome, Spencer. Very handsome,” Y/N says, staring into the mirror too now. But she’s not looking at the jacket, she’s looking at him. The beat of silence lasts longer than what’s comfortable, “Um, I think, I saw some pants that would look good on you, with this jacket, I mean,” she says, stumbling over her words. She’s not looking in the mirror any more, her gaze is noticeably away from Spencer and the mirror.

“Okay, uh, whatever you think, Y/N,” Spencer says, “I’m not even sure why I agreed to this thing. I don’t dance,” he says, regretting his choice to go to Penelope’s prom, but feeling guilty for maybe disappointing Y/N all in one breath.

“Did you ask her yet?” Y/N asks, holding up a pair of similarly gray colored pants. She must notice his confusion, “You know Austin, the woman you heroically saved. Does any of it ring a bell, Spence?” Y/N teases. Spencer feels his cheeks burn and his heart tighten, that happens a lot around Y/N.

“Oh Austin, uh no. She wasn’t interested in me, after all,” Spencer says, shifting his weight and staring at his converse, “I mean, I should have seen it coming. It’s transference, that’s like Psych 101,” he says, feeling strange. It was odd when Austin broke up with him, even if you can consider it breaking up. He felt a strange sense of relief when it happened, like a weight was lifted off his shoulders.

Y/N clicks her tongue in annoyance as she walks over to Spencer. Tugging slightly on the sleeves of the jacket she says, “well she’s not as smart as I thought she was. You have to be a complete fool to let someone like you go,” she says quietly. She’s standing too close, looking too beautiful, and seeming too perfect for Spencer to not be completely enamoured.

Then it breaks, like shattered glass. The rosey glasses are lifted, leaving only cheeks that sting with nervousness and hearts the yearn for something a little more tangible.

“Stop staring at me and go try it on,” Y/N says, handing him the pair of pants, “Oh and I’m going to look for a vest and a tie to match. This store is unbelievable,” she tells him, pushing him into the makeshift dressing room.

Spencer puts on the pants, which fit, despite being maybe an inch or two loose in the waist. He looks into the tall mirror, which is noticeably empty without Y/N standing with him. A floating hand, belonging to Y/N appears. She holds a burgundy tie and a dark brown vest, both of which are very Spencer. He smiles slightly, strangely happy that Y/N has picked something out that’s perfect for him.

“Tell me when you’re decent,” she says, her voice muffled by the curtain that separates them. He sticks his head out of the curtain, his eyes immediately finding Y/N’s.

“Ohh, Spence, you look amazing. Very handsome,” she says, her hands clasped around the tie, tugging just like she did with his suit jacket before, “What do you think?” she asks, looking at him curiously.

“It’s nice,” Spencer offers, approaching this like he does everything: cautiously, “I do like the texture,” he says, running his hands up and down the sleeves of the jacket.

“You look more than nice, Spence. I know I’ve said it like 30 times, but you look very handsome,” she says. Spencer hopes that she means it. He needs something to be real. Sometimes besides what he feels, because what he feels is the realest thing in the world.

“It’s nice to hear,” Spencer says, “you know from someone who’s not my mother,” he jokes, shrugging off the jacket and grabbing the hanger from Y/N.

“You deserve to hear it,” Y/N says so softly Spencer wonders if she’s saying it all. That beat of silence, followed by the awkwardness is back.

“So, uh, I saw a dress that I’m going to try on,” Y/N tells him, her gaze shifting everywhere but Spencer’s eyes.

“I’ll go pay for this,” Spencer says, walking back into the dressing room and the mirror that lies to his face.

___

Back in Y/N’s car, Spencer shifts in the passenger seat trying to find a way to sit comfortably while holding his suit jacket, pants and vest. Y/N hangs up her dress, that’s wrapped in a gown bag. She wouldn’t let Spencer see the dress, despite her practically picking out his entire outfit.

“So what’s next,” Spencer asks, as Y/N gets into the car. She smiles over at him sheepishly, leading Spencer to think she’s got another trick up her sleeve.

“I’ve got a confession, Spence. And please don’t hate me for it,” Y/N says, her voice coming out a little nervous as she eyes Spencer.

“I don’t think I could ever hate you, even if I tried. And I’m certain I’ll never have to,” he says softly, resting his hand over hers on the console. He rubs the back of her hand gently, thinking about just how easy things are with her. If he could only be a little braver, maybe then the mirror wouldn’t be so empty.

“Okay. I knew that things didn’t work out with you and Austin. I overheard you telling Derek,” Y/N confesses, “And I know that it makes me a horrible friend or whatever, but I’m sorry that I eavesdropped,”

“Oh, uh how much did you hear?” Spencer asks, suddenly quite nervous. He can feel his heart drop, waiting for the moment when Y/N laughs at the thought of her loving him. He knows that it’s not fair to her, but then again all is fair is love and war.

“Enough to know that you’re still hung up or or someone else. I left once my conscience got the better of me. Once a Girl Scout, always a Girl Scout,” she says, making the three finger salute that’s common in scouting, “I just wanted to hear it from you, you know you’re my favorite person and all,” she says, a frown forming.

“I think, uh,” Spencer says, “That I was just a little embarrassed. You know how Derek and Penelope and Emily and JJ can get. It’s basically just you and Hotch who aren’t jumping down my throat about being, you know, alone,” he says, chuckling awkwardly.

“They just want to help you, Spence. In their own ways, but I’m always on Team Spencer. You never got to worry about that,” Y/N offers, squeezing his hand.

He considers what she says, not responding verbally, but nodding his head. He hasn’t ever had someone on his “team”, so it’s strange. But a good kind of strange.

“Spence, you okay? I wanted to give you something. To be truthful, I’ve been thinking about how I was going to do this for awhile,”

“Ask me what?” he questions, wondering what she has in store. He watches as Y/N rummages in his bag, clearly looking for something. He’s thoroughly confused when she pulls out a TI-84.

“What on earth?” Spencer says, as she places the calculator in his hands. Her sly grin, beaming up at him only further proves his point: his heart just beats faster around her.

“Just shut and press the on button. You’d think that a genius would know how to work a calculator,” she comments, rolling her eyes playfully.

“You know, I never used these. I can just do it in my head faster,” Spencer says, winking at Y/N when she pushes him teasingly.

“God, Spencer just turn it on!” she demands, very apparently getting more and more impatient.

He turns the calculator on and is brought to a green screen that has a picture of a graph. Spencer raises his eyebrow, as if to ask Y/N for the next direction.

“Press the graph button,” she says, getting quieter as Spencer looks at her.

He presses the button that she said to, waiting for whatever is supposed to happen. Spencer watches as the screen draws four black lines running parallel to each other. A curved line is drawn on the first two black lines, forming the letters “P” and “R”. The screen continues to draw, making an oval that looks like an “O” and the last two parallel lines are joined together with a “v” shape, forming the letter “M”. He takes a second glance, reading the 4 letter word slowly.

P-R-O-M

“Well?” she asks, waiting for his answer.

He’s speechless. Spencer blinks. It’s like his brain has stopped working. It’s a prom, a stupid prom that’s 10 years too late. But it’s the girl of dreams that’s asking him. And that’s the stuff those rom-coms he couldn’t pay attention to are made of.

“I mean, of course. Of course, Y/N,” Spencer says, dropping the calculator into the cup holder and leaning in to hug Y/N.

His heart stops again. Falling into that tricky habit of either speeding up or stopping when she’s around. He thinks he’s ready to implode when she pecks his cheek. Her lips don’t linger, hardly touching his skin for it to be considered a kiss.

“I don’t think I’d want to go with anyone else,” she says, mumbling into his skin. She seals his fate with her lips against his skin. Never again will Spencer imagine what it’s like to have her lips against his skin. Even though it’s a fraction of the time he’d want, it’s tattooed in his mind.

“I’m not much of a dancer, by the way,” Spencer says, reluctantly letting go and sitting back into the passenger’s seat, “so don’t expect too much,” he jokes.

“Oh you better watch it, Doctor Reid. I’m getting you on the dance floor, even if you hate it,” Y/N says, smiling as she backs out of the parking spot and turns into the street.

Spencer looks out the window, thinking to himself that there’s probably nothing he can hate if he’s doing it with Y/N.

--

Spencer didn’t go to prom in high school. He didn’t do a lot of the traditional things that most former high schoolers reminisce about at his age. He didn’t go to football games or have a best friend to make lifelong memories with.

He didn’t have any of that, until now.

But it’s prom night, 10 years late. His hands are sweaty and his mouth feels dry. Spencer wasn’t this nervous for even his first day at the BAU all those years ago. He tries to fix the burgundy tie that Y/N picked out at the vintage store. It looks crooked and twisted. Nothing like when Y/N tied perfectly in the store for him. He supposes that he can wait till she comes to pick him up.

The mirror, again, is noticeably empty without Y/N standing beside him. He can get lost in there, thinking about her standing with him. He does, because it feels like seconds later when he hears a rapid knocking on his apartment door.

Standing on the other side of the door is Y/N. She wears a sage green dress that looks like it’s made of softest silk. He smiles at her, not sure if he can trust his words. Spencer doesn’t think he’ll be able to do much thinking when all he can focus on is the tiny straps that rest on her shoulders or how the sage green compliments her skin tone.

“You look, god. You’re beautiful,” Spencer says, partly under his breath partly aloud to Y/N, “so beautiful,” he says again, focusing on her eyes.

“And you’re looking very dashing in that suit, Spence,” she says, pushing her way in, “do you need help with your tie?” she asks, looking at the tie he holds in his hand.

“Yes, please,” he says sheepishly. He holds out the burgundy colored tie, but takes his hand back as an idea crosses his mind, “oh wait here, I’ll be right back,” Spencer says, walking quickly to his bedroom.

“Alright,” Y/N says sceptically, “Don’t ditch me, Reid!” she calls out from the living room.

Spencer returns, hiding the new tie behind his back. He places an olive green tie with dusty blue and pink flowers in her hands. He notices her smile grow, realizing that he’s picking a new tie for a reason.

“I might not know much about prom, but I think that we’re supposed to match. You know, since we’re going together,” he offers, “but I need help putting it on,” he says.

“We’re going to match!” Y/N says excitedly. As she unbuttons the first button on Spencer’s cream colored shirt he holds his breath. He can’t breathe when she’s this close. Her fingers are quick and nimble as they feed the tie around his neck and elegantly create a knot. If Spencer wasn’t already in love, he knows that watching her eyes twinkle and her tongue poke out as she concentrates would make him declare it then and there.

“So handsome,” she says, using that quiet voice that makes it seem like she’s talking to herself rather than him, “I can’t wait to dance with you,” she tells him tugging the tie.

“I’m not going to be good, Y/N. I’m going to be a fool,” Spencer says, lamenting already about what an idiot he’s going to look like in front of Y/N.

“That’s nonsense, Spence,” Y/N says, waving him away with a toss of her hand, “You’re going to be the best dancer there,” she tells him rubbing her hand up and down his arm, like she did at the store.

“Would you believe it, if I told you I never danced with anyone?” Spencer says, being the most honest and true he’s ever been.

“We can change that,” Y/N says, stepping towards Spencer and linking her hand in his. She squeezes, restarting and stopping his heart all in one go, “oh wait we need music,” she says, feeling around for where her phone usually is.

“I got it,” Spencer says, stepping away from Y/N. He walks over to the small record player in the corner of his living room. He doesn’t play it too often, the records he has were once his mother’s and they’re too painful to play most days. But Spencer’s sure that he can make every exception to all his rules for Y/N. Maybe he’ll get some happy memories out of it.

“Going old school I see,” Y/N says, teasingly as Spencer walks over grabbing both his hands in hers, “everything about you is very charming, Doctor Reid,” she says, softly swaying to the jazzy tunes of Sarah Vaughan.

“I’m not too sure about that,” Spencer says, following Y/N’s lead as she floats around his living room, carrying him everywhere she goes. She rests her head against his chest and Spencer swears that she’s going to get a concussion from how hard his heart beats.

They’re alone, no audience to witness the moment that Spencer wonders if he can dare to call intimate. It’s intimate to him because every moment with Y/N is intimate. Maybe if someone had told Spencer that dancing like this could bring pure paradise all the way from your fingertips to your eyelashes, maybe he would have done it sooner.

“You’re quite the romantic, Spencer,” Y/N says as the song comes to a close. The record player stops, but they don’t stop swaying, “And you told me you couldn’t dance,” she scoffs lightly, with her head still resting against his chest.

“Is that okay with you?” He asks, “me being romantic,”

“I don’t think that I’d want it any other way, Spencer,” Y/N says, removing her head from his chest and her hand from his. She cups his face, touching him lightly. Y/N holds him like he aches to be held. It’s gentle and tender, yet leaves him desiring more.

“Honest?” Spencer asks, daring to be brave.

“Truly,” she responds.

Spencer shifted slightly, so he can also hold her face in his hands. Y/N drops her hands though, wrapping them around Spencer’s waist to pull them closer together. Spencer’s phantom fingers are like that dance around that dance around Y/N’s skin.

It’s Y/N that initiates the kiss. She moves in slowly and tenuously, looking just as nervous as Spencer is. He’s shaky slightly, the anticipation getting to his head when all he can see is Y/N’s eyes looking into his and all he can think about is how soft her skin is. It’s all he’s ever wanted to think about. Her lips are soft and pillowy.

But it’s more than that.

Kissing her is everything to Spencer. It’s the breathy sighs she lets out as he moves his hands and rests them securely behind her neck. It’s the peachy scent of her perfume that’s so sweet and strong it should be overwhelming when all it is, is intoxicating. Kissing her is dizzying and terrifying, but wonderful and sweet. He can’t tell where his lips start and where her’s end, but it doesn’t matter.

He doesn’t open his eyes because he knows he’s facing the mirror. But unlike before, he doesn’t need a mirror to know what he’s looking at. He can look into his soul for that.

“Very romantic,” Y/N says, smiling through the quick kisses she plants on his jawline, “I always thought you’d be a romantic,” he tells him.

Spencer brushes his thumb over Y/N’s bottom lip. It’s puffy and bitten from his kisses, but he thinks that it would be a shame to not bite and kiss it some more. He smiles so hard he knows that he’ll wake up in the morning and his mouth will hurt. But that’s the least of his worries if Y/N’s there to kiss it better.

“Honest?” Spencer says, calling back to the song, that’s now their song.

“Truly,”

---

TAGLIST (ADD YOURSELF HERE)

@shemarmooresfedora @willowrose99 @calm-and-doctor @spideygenius @measure-in-pain @nomajdetective @spencerreid9 @saspencereid @laurakirsten0502 @winifrede @muffin-cup @idonotexiste @pastelbabygirl19 @strawberryspence @g0lden-cth @spookydrreid

[saturatedboy]

Hey can you do a fic of Lady Alcina x GN!reader where the reader has ADHD so little things just gets forgotten and jumping topics so fast it’s kinda hard for Alcina at first and she’ll get frustrated but still loves the reader just how they are? If so that would be fantastic! Have a great day!!

Alcina Dimitrescu x GN!Reader

My apologise for taking a while, a thunder and lightning storm happened near me and it blew up the fuse to my internet box. But I'm here with more writing so I hope you enjoy!

Requests: Open

Words: 2.5k

The vast castle that had loomed over the Village of Shadows had always been ancient and portentous. The unknown creatures however that hovered over the sky close to the pole towers were always a great sight to see from the village. However, those who live far away from the castle merely thought to them to be birds with a wide wing span that would fly around and bless the castle with their saint fortune- however if you knew the castle and it's true owners, you would find everything to be more depraved of it's fake nature.

Humming softly, you dragged the wooden comb through your strands, being careful to not pull on any knotted ends too hard. You stared at the mirror with soft eyes, it had been quite the evening for you after the day being filled with lessons on acting like a true noble. You could hear the young ladies down the extended corridors, arguing over who would get the first drop of the sweetness a simple maid had once carried. Although not a vampire yourself, you strived yourself to be lucky amongst those who were caught in any of the young and head mistresses claws. Ah, the mistress. The simple thought of her had brought a rose tint to your cheeks, you smiling unconsciously as you let your mind wander off into far lands that were filled with no violence, only peace amongst the dammed. Only a sudden knock had transported you back into the real world. Coughing, you placed the comb down on the vanity and turned on your buffet, facing the door with hands folded on your lap. "You may enter," You spoke out loud, awaiting the turning of the knob.

The sound of slight clicking of the knob being turned brought your full attention to whoever was to enter. The door became ajar, then pushed to an opening with the guilty entering. A wide smile had stretched it's way onto your face as you stood to greet the one who knocked. Bowing your head slightly, you raised it to be met with the eyes of the lady of the castle, Alcina Dimitrescu. "My lady."

"My darling," She spoke back, closing the door behind her as she looked down upon your small form, however still slightly taller than her three daughters. Seeing your smile brought one onto her face, her eyes gleaming softly at your relaxed state. Looking around your neatly tided room, she let her eyes graze back over to yours and tilted her head to the side ever so slightly. "Why are you still awake? You should be asleep by now."

Awkwardly, you had bit your bottom lip and looked away in shame. Any of the pink fairy dust that was once coating your cheeks had turned deeper than the pinks in a sunset. "Well, my lady, you see I-" You had quickly cut yourself off. You weren't going to tell her that you was awake because you could hear the cries of the maid. And no you weren't going to tell her that she had been running on your mind either-

"Well?" She softly asked as she crossed her arms under her chest, placing herself to sit on the end of your bed as she watched you fiddle with your fingers with a long-lost look within your eyes.

"I'm just feeling energised." You saved yourself as you silently thanked your mind for quick thinking. Well, you weren't exactly lying but at the same time you had been because the cries of the maid had woken you from your slumber. Not wanting to get into any sort of trouble with the Lady. Lady Dimitrescu nodded in reply, not fully understand to why you would be energised after a long day of training to be a noble but none the less, she was glad you weren't hurt at all or hiding any sort of pain.

"Hm, I suppose that may makes sense. Though I don't remember you having any sort of sugary treats to be feeling so much energy to stay awake..." Dimitrescu had trailed of at the end, instantly becoming entranced when you had grabbed the comb once again and brushed through your hair. Tutting slightly, she stood and walked over to your sitting form, plucking the brush from your hand and using it to comb your hair for you. "Your combing wrongly, follow the flow of your hair- don't try to change it's path."

Feeling her gentleness as she combed through your hair had made you start to fidget in your seat. Although you loved the feeling of her hands caressing your hair, there was something about it that made you want to adventure further. You didn't want to stay here, no you couldn't. This wasn't right sitting here anymore. The feeling was so sudden- and you knew why. Arguing in your head, you dragged your mind away from the reality of the world into a blank space where you could try sort out these mixed emotions. However as you were away from the reality, your body had reacted on its own recordings. Your leg began to bounce with your hands intertwining with one another then letting go only for them to become fists. Without any thought of it, Alcina hadn't notice your sudden change in mood, she was too focused on trying to get a certain knot out of your hair.

Yourself on the other hand, was stuck fighting for movement or staying in place. It wasn't till the noise of wood being placed back onto your vanity and the hand that had blocked your view from the mirror that brought you away from your argument. Without a second thought, you stood abruptly and turned to face Alcina with a wide smile. "We should go for a stroll! The night will be young and I'm sure the young mistresses will be busy with their feeding tonight. How about it my Lady?" You held your hand out, your white tunic and grey pants had provided enough heat for you to want a walk in the breeze of the lost screams within the castle.

Alcina had looked at your hand, so small and doll-like. Holding your hand normally brought great warmth to her soul. The feeling of a human being alive and wanting to be close to her had always brought a soft, comforting feeling. And she had only felt that with you. So, wanting to feel the same feeling again she cupped your small hand within her own and used her other hand to straighten out her hat. "Lead the way my love."

Within no second to spare, you speed-walked out of your room and practically dragged the Lady behind you. Why were you so excited for a walk? She had no clue to what was exactly going on in your mind, she never understood what was on your mind but that was because she couldn't read you like an open book. She had always had people praise her like some Goddess which brought much pride to her, but seeing you hold her hand and walk with her like she was a regular person- maybe like what the children would do in the village when they found something interesting and wanted a parent to see it quickly- that what you had reminded her off. "My darling, aren't you going a little fast?" She asked, although having no problem keeping you with your speed, she found it unusual for you to be walking at this speed.

"Nope! Now come on, we have the castle to explore more of!" You giggled and and bopped your head side to side like you were listening to silent music. "Oh! When we explore the castle we should play hide and seek! Do you think the other girls would love to join, I'm sure they would! Ooo maybe you could teaching me how to sort out flowers to make a beautiful boutique like you had done once when Lady Beneviento was over!" Your rambled on about activities you both could do as you let go of Alcina's hand and walked off by yourself. Your stranded look had brought Alncia to be slightly worried about your change of state. Being quick, Alcina followed behind you keeping close tabs on trying to make out what you was saying since you were getting further ahead of her.

"Darling....Darling!" She called out as you kept walking onwards, twisting through the hallways and moving yourself out of the way for any maids that were walking around or cleaning the hallways. Alcina shook her head and sped walked to catch up to you so she could take swiftly your arm within her grasp to make you stop walking away from her. The sudden yank that she gave you made you lock your lips together and looked up at her over your shoulder. "Darling your speaking too quickly and mumbling half of it. Speak with a clear tone and articulation. I taught you this today before you went up to bed."

You looked at her with glossy eyes that held your innocence. Her figure over you had somewhat calmed your mind to rest, or maybe it was her touch- you couldn't decide on which. You focused on her hand around your arm, her fingers going back to her palm as her larger hands captured your arm within her grip- no movement could make you escape. You opened your mouth to speak up but your words were caught in your throat. Again you tried but only slight noises of struggle came out. Taking a deep breath, Alcina sighed out in annoyance and rolled her eyes. "Would you mind telling me what's going on. One minute your relaxed, the next your up and walking away like you have to catch a carriage. You're also changing your mind on what to do-Sweetie you said you wanted to go for a walk."

Trailing your eyes from her hand up her arm and peering at her face, you saw a clear look of her being stumped with your actions. Pulling your arm out of her grip, you cradled it close to your chest. "I'm sorry." Was all you could mutter before taking a deep breath in and out, steading your breathing after the fast walk you had travelled with. Leaning against the closest wall in the hallway, you swept strands out from your eyes and gazed down at the wooden floor with deep crimson carpets. "I've always been like this- It's something that is hard to control." You gathered the small courage to face her again, looking at her with a guilty stare.

Alcina patted her dress down as she heard your voice speak. She had no way in understanding why you act like this because this was the first time it happened so suddenly and well- she hadn't been a human for a very long time now. You remembered times before you came to the castle that down in the village you would take off through the woods to lose the energy you gained for no reason and speak to any animal life you could find. It was much more relaxing to talk to someone who couldn't say anything back- you couldn't interrupt anyone or get the harsh reply of 'Stay on a subject' because your mind jumped from one thing to another. That was actually how you met the Lady of the castle in the first place, and it was the first place you confessed your dying love to her. But now- everything happened without yourself even realising it was happening, you felt like the one to blame for putting the Lady in this position of following you about and practically making her own mind run in circles.

A delicate hand lifted your chin that had dropped to rest on your chest, a finger running along your bottom lip. The hand belonged to Alcina whom had knelt to the floor in front of you. "(Y/n)." She spoke your name with tenderness and a tone that would forever make your heart melt with affection. "You have nothing to be sorry for. If this is how you are, then I love you for who you are." She felt your lip quiver under her thumb, her other hand pulling you into her chest where soft sobs had came from your mouth. She held you close, humming a tune to calm you down. Your salty tears had wet her long white dress, but she didn't care. She cared for the fact that you had been dealing with something that had made you think you were in the wrong for feeling it. "If you wish to ramble about anything on your mind, go ahead. Tell me stories, tell me knowledge, tell me how you feel. I will listen to everything to have to say- even if it does get mixed up that's okay." With a vision blurred, you tilted your head up to look at her as yo used your hands to clear the spots of wetness of your face. "I may not be able to fully understand, but I chose to love you and that means anything that you come with is something I adore my dearest."

A chuckle escaped your lips as you felt her hand glide itself down under your arm and slightly tickle you. "W-wait that tickles-"

"Oh I know~" She whispered into your ear and she playfully picked you up in bridal style within her arms and began her own journey somewhere. Still watching her face and feeling her arms wrapped tightly around your form, you couldn't help but wonder what she was doing.

"Where are we going? Are we going outside or are we going back to my room?" You asked as you continued to clear your eyesight from the specks of fuzzy marks. Adjusting you in her arms slightly so she could instead carry you with your head resting on her shoulder as she held you under your behind and legs wrapped around her upper torso, she replied.

"We are going to find my three daughters and tonight as a family we shall play games. A game night. I figure we both could need one of those especially your hard work of being a noble." She kissed your cheek as she carried on walking, you on the other hand had tried to say something again but it came out with stutters.

"But what if I talk about something stupid or make a fool of myself. Maybe I might not be able to sleep and you need your rest m'lady,"

"Oh darling, I wouldn't sleep without knowing my precious dearest is safe and sound under my gaze. If you can't fall asleep still we shall sit by the fire in the main room and I'll read whatever you wish for." Her words were sincere. She was being truthful. She didn't need to know about your condition, she just understood that she will be there for you in your tightest moments and fit what is right for you. And anyway, she also loved your voice- it was secretly one of her favourite features about you. Why wouldn't she want to listen to you, anything to hear her dearest talk would make her heart swoon with love.

Only a love that she was willing to give to you.

[goodmode]

(to people who hate young children)

as a young girl-perceived person my only way of getting adults to listen to me about not having a mum instinct - like do not expect me to be the Older Female Look-After-The-Little-Ones Surrogate Mum sorry i do not have the right personality for it - the only way i knew how to portray this was to be aggressive, because adults werent listening unless i made it A Big Deal. so it was all "i HATE children!! babies are STUPID and hearing them cry makes me so angry and violent and i wish everyone was born fully grown” which is, like, you know, a lie, but also the child’s way of going “you won’t let me keep my distance from small and delicate babies that i am uncomfortable being around, and you won’t listen to me when i say i don’t want children of my own Some Day (TM) (C)  so i will make it a huge thing that you can’t avoid addressing. at least if you think i’m just Weird then you will acknowledge i’m standing my ground”

(aside: guys, babies are just little lesser tadpoles. they react to heat and light and noise. and they’re stupid because they don’t know anything yet and they’re also monkey-related so their reaction to most things is to scream so that a caretaker will come save them from the Bad Thing. we all know this. you know this. i know this.)

growing up i had to very carefully separate the childish urge to Be Horrible About Children from I Am Old Enough Now That Being Horrible About Children Will Do Damage.

i don’t know how to articulate this but i’m also trans and i have also come to certain understandings. yes i’m not a Woman Girl Motherhood Mother Lady Female Mother Raiser Of The Young or whatever. i knew this as a child. i know this still. BUT children aren’t the little demons i had to make them out to be defensively to protect myself from doing psych damage to them by being an arsehole on purpose. they are not the ‘annoying little mindless shits’ i would have blogged about at age 13.

what i’ve learned since is: babies are loud and annoying and they shit and it stinks so bad oh my god. but they are absolutely going to turn into people. they are a little larval stage of a person that is about to have opinions.

you grow up to be a monkey with your own life, and you (mostly) get to pick and choose when and where and how much time you spend with the little tiny baby monkeys. your cousin has a baby monkey or your friend has a baby monkey or your niecemonkey is visiting with your grandma or whatever. you can cancel these appointments. you can be around, or not. that is the thing you earn by just being an adult with your own life. it’s marvellous. you choose when you are ready (or not) for these appointments with baby monkeys. you can make excuses and leave. you are no longer at the mercy of Being A Child Expected To Like Babies. it’s gone. you’re free. you are a mammal unleashed.

but when you are around young children. and you will be! please be nice to the children. you remember when you tried to get an adult’s attention and they were talking to another adult about something. you remember when an adult said something to you that hurt and still hurts. you remember these things and you do better. even if you don’t know what you’re doing, listen. the literal and most widely-applicable trick to getting through an encounter with children is to listen. just say very little and go “oh cool!” and let them talk about the Cool Thing They’re Into and look at them and make eye contact and smile. and then you’re done.

sure your job isn’t to Be Expected To Be A Caregiver but you need to reconcile that with the fact that children don’t know a thing about expectation. they just want to be seen and heard and to know that someone’s in their corner. you cannot put your People Want Me To Be A Parent Well!! I’ll Be Horrid Instead mentality upon small children. it is an outdated mentality. you are an adult now. signed, a trans nonbinary adult who doesn’t want children and had to fight for that to be understood

[halfabreath]

Holster goes on Survivor after graduating, part 2

here! we! go! part one here, tag here

so Holster's got a strategy to update and an ex lover to deal with and like. He and Esther didn't end great.

I feel like we don’t talk enough about why Holster’s chirped so much for hooking up with Esther in canon? Like there’s mention of a rash and a saga that requires an email but we don’t really know?

but essentially Holster likes Esther and is made fun of for it and I can’t imagine that feels good for her? And they probably didn’t do it in front of her but surely that’s not great for anyone’s mindset

Holster and Esther start dating after Winter Screw and she’s so enamored with this sweet dork who sings to himself while he brushes his teeth but the second he’s around his friends she feels like he doesn’t change per se but he showcases such different parts of himself and she likes what he doesn’t show! She’s into that! But that’s Holster like a large percentage of the time and Esther’s got a life of her own so they’re on again off again, Esther doesn’t come to kegsters or games and things fizzle and reignite a couple of times until Holster becomes a captain

Esther knows in her bones Holster will never ever ever ever ever ever choose her over his team (especially Ransom, like what’s the deal there?) and honestly Esther Does Not Enjoy having intimate conversations about how things make her feel and she’s really good at talking her way around her problems so when They break up Esther’s trying to articulate how she feels around SMH she says “I hate who you are when your uniform is on” and for Holster, who’s entire identity rests on being on A Team (literally his position on the team is being part of a tiny two person team within the larger team) this is his life this is what makes him happiest this is how he feels most himself so Holster hears “I hate the thing that makes you you”

So yeah! They broke up and then avoided each other and didn’t really get closure but also neither of them are bitter, it just felt kind of like “man I miss hanging out with them but yikes who was I at that point??”

of COURSE the first challenge involves the exes having to work together in pairs for their tribe and it’s a clusterfuck and Esther is downright cold to him. She’s sending him all the bad vibes in the world and Holster’s now legitimately worried he destroyed her life with their breakup because there’s some tangible animosity there and then they lose the first challenge and Holster’s wondering why he even got out of bed this morning when Esther pops up behind him and says “come with me, I need your long ass arms for coconuts”

The SECOND they’re out of earshot from the camp Esther‘s like “I’m really sorry I was so mean but I think it’s a huge advantage for the rest of the exes to think we hate each other so they don’t suspect an alliance”

Holster: So you don’t hate me? We’re good?

Esther: Good isn’t the word I’d use, Adam

Holster: That’s fair, I wasn’t a very good boyfriend. But I’ve got your back and we’re going to the top three, you good with that? Here, have a coconut wait let me open it for you

Bada bing bada boom, alliance

Don't get me wrong, it's awkward. Like, really awkward. The vibe of this island is uncomfortable and the near-constant rain for the first five days certainly doesn’t help and their tribe loses three immunity challenges in a row so this alliance is TESTED but Esther and Holster always surreptitiously check in by having lightning fast strategy sessions by the well or when everyone has left camp and they’re SO careful to maintain the illusion that they hate each other when they’re actually earning back trust day by day

Holster’s SUPER helpful around camp. He always offers to carry heavy things and makes people laugh and always knows exactly where the machete is and delivers coconuts to people when they’re resting but it’s miserable

There’s this SWEET moment where, after watching Esther shiver for three days straight Holster takes the machete to the woods and cuts off the bottom half of his sweatshirt to make a scarf/towel/wrap for Esther and they pretend like she did it out of spite and honestly? It’s a power move that helps Holster gain access to this smaller faction of people so they have more intel because the other contestants are like this helpful strong idiot need someone to look out for him

It also means Holster’s running around this island in a cropped sweatshirt and compression shorts

The Himbofication of Adam Birkholtz is complete

And even though Holster’s constantly surrounded by people, hungry, wet, participating in incredibly strenuous physical challenges, and at Tribal Council every night it’s still better than having to hear Ransom say they’ll never be together

Esther can fully tell Something Is Up. At first she just thought it was the stress of the game and the circumstances but then during a challenge she and Holster are on a platform way out in the water waiting for their turns on a relay race and they’re actually completely alone for the first time in days and she absolutely uses that time to interrogate Holster because she’s efficient, damn it

And Holster’s annoyed she’s taking his head out of the game and he’s exhausted and hungry and he’s the last leg of their team which means if he loses they all go to Tribal AGAIN and he can’t let his team down, he really can’t so the whole thing bursts out because he just wants her to stop and it goes like:

Esther: Look, I know you’re annoyed but you’re not telling me something and I think you can see why that would be concerning to me given the fucking context

Holster: It doesn’t have anything to do with the game, you know I’d never jeopardize this for us

Esther: No, that’s not what I think it’s just -

Holster: Holy hell, all I did was tell Ransom that I’m in love with him, are you happy?? NOW SWIM, SHAPIRO

Esther, while diving: I FUCKING KNEW IT

Holster, under his breath: that makes one of us, you could have told me. saved me a lot of time. Rude.

So now Holster’s just admitted this before his ex and 7 million viewers and oh yeah he’s gotta swim through an obstacle course so he and his team can eat today

And finally, FINALLY, their tribe wins. Holster gives it everything he’s got to gain ground (water?) and win it for the team and he’s just laying in the sand, trying desperately to catch his breath, Jeff Probst screaming in the background, while his whole tribe swarms him and if he closes his eyes he swears he can feel the ice under his feet and hear the clack of the sticks and pucks and it’s the first celly he’s earned in years and it feels incredible but it makes him ache for Samwell

Jeff notices that he’s tearing up and of COURSE asks what it’s all about and Holster’s swallowing back tears when he says “I’ve spent my whole life playing on one team or another and after graduating from college I suddenly wasn’t? And I didn’t know how much I missed it until I was on a team again and I even though I love my friends I think this is the first time I’ve let myself admit that things aren’t like they used to be and that I’m not, either”

So Ether’s watching her ex cry on national television and for the first time she understands exactly how deeply he loves his team? And how hard he tries to make them proud of him? And suddenly a lot of their relationship makes a hell of a lot more sense

After the challenge Holster’s laying in a hammock and Esther rolls into it with him and just says “We’re good. Top three?”

Holster, beaming: Bro! Top three!

Esther: What did I tell you about calling me bro when we’re cuddling

Holster: I thought that only applied to post-coital romantic cuddling? Unless of course you’re trying to tell me that you’re ARDENTLY in love with me

Esther: shut up

Holster: a heart full of LOVE a heart full of SONG NO FEAR NO REGRET A NIGHT AS BRIGHT AS DAY -

Ether: Hi, guys?? can someone vote me off this island please?

Part 3 coming soon!! This is so much!! But I fuckin love it!!

[sunflowersteves]

Hi hi! What about smut prompts #2 17 and 19 with Din Djarin? I'm also having a little Geralt of Rivia kinda feeling eh I don't know how to decide I'll let it up to you or else my brain will explode 😭

author’s note || I decided to do Geralt because my next two requests are smutty din. also i have no idea where my mind went but uh, I hope you enjoy!

smut prompts || “stop before someone sees!” “do you want to come on my fingers or mouth?” “how funny do you think teasing is now?”

warnings || some fluff at the end, jealousy, some manipulation, afab!fic, smut!!! 18+ only, teasing, rough sex, edging, punishment, semi-public sex, minors do not interact

masterlist

Teasing Geralt in the middle of a pub was one of your most favorite hobbies. You loved the way your heart pounded against your chest and the way his deep voice sent chills down your spine. 

He, on the other hand, hated all of the teasings. You would sit alone drinking your ale and listening to some of Jaskier’s songs when a handsome stranger would ask why you were alone. You never were alone, though—Geralt was always out in the stables feeding Roach, always nearby. 

You sipped on your ale, letting the salty taste run through your tastebuds. You sat by the fire and softly swayed yourself to the beat of the song. Suddenly, a very handsome young gentleman took a seat next to you.

You didn’t even acknowledge him at first; you couldn’t honestly care about whoever he was. But then he started to flirt with you, quite blatantly, despite the well-known fact that you were with the Witcher. That little idea swiveled into your brain, your lips curling into a large smirk. Any second Geralt could waltz in through the door to see you blatantly flirting with someone else. 

You placed an arm on top of the stranger’s shoulder and ran your fingers down his muscles. You giggled at whatever the man said, even if it wasn’t inherently funny. You honestly didn’t think he’s that charming at all. You just want to tease Geralt. So, you continue to flirt with him while a bright smile surrounded your face.

However, the smile you had on quickly vanished when the Witcher had come back from the stables, towering over the two of you. The man tried to act tough like he stood a chance against Geralt. He even tried to say that the spot was taken and for him to find someone else. 

Geralt could practically only see red, a pure deep, and rich color that surrounded him. His eyes flickered towards the stranger, and they gulped; the aura around Geralt always seemed menacing. “Touch her again, and I’ll slice you open.” 

The man’s eyes widened, and he quickly ran off, apologizing profusely on the way. Then, Geralt just stared at you as you tried to act all innocent like you did nothing wrong. He latched his arm onto yours and pulled you up, his face just inches from yours. Your eyes were wide from the fast movements, but Geralt never faltered. 

“What was that little dove, huh? Were you trying to make me jealous? Well, it worked.” Before you could even respond, you were whisked away from the pub. His large boots trudged against the floor as he made his way towards one of the bedrooms. 

“Geralt! I don’t see why this is a big deal-”

You were interrupted by Geralt slamming you against a wall, not enough to inflict any pain, of course. A sly smirk made its way to your face as his arms roamed your body in desperation, trying to touch every inch of your body. His lips attacked your neck in fervor, his teeth biting and nipping at your soft skin.

He was right where you wanted him, but you still wanted to play innocent. It was Geralt’s favorite game. 

“Stop before someone sees!” He chuckled as he pressed you further into the wall, the wooden planks digging into your back. He lifted you, your legs wrapping around his waist on instinct. 

“I’m going to fuck you against the wall, little flower. Would you like that, hmm?” His deep voice rumbled against your neck as he pressed more feathery kisses. He moved closer to your ear, articulating every single syllable. “I want the whole pub to hear you scream my name. I want that man you were flirting with to know who you belong to.” 

“Yes, Geralt. Please.” You could feel his lips curling into a smirk at your pleas and desperations. You were begging for his touch, your thoughts fully giving into him. You didn’t want to play any longer; you just wanted him. 

“You would like that, wouldn’t you? Oh, sweetheart, I know you do.” 

You gasped when he ripped your dress, your breasts on full display. His hand went to rub small circles on your clit, teasing and tickling your sensitive nerves. You moaned loudly as he moved his fingers to grab some of your slick, the substance spreading to your thighs. 

He groaned against your ear, your wetness fully covering his fingers. He knew then that he couldn’t wait any longer. He could smell the sweet, pungent scent of your slick. He could hear your rapid heartbeat thump against your chest. He could feel the whines that erupted from your throat. 

Without any warning, he slammed his cock into you. You let out a surprised yelp, but it quickly turned into whines and whimpers. “Fuck, Geralt. You’re so big.” He pounded into you, over and over and over. You could feel your resolve slipping; you knew you were done for. 

“You’re so tight, little flower. You were desperate, huh? You were desperate for my cock.” You continued to plead and beg his name, not really understanding your words at this point. 

“How funny do you think teasing is now, hmm?” He chuckled as your mouth hung open, unable to utter a single word from your pretty mouth. He was relentless. He was cruel. He knew how to drag your sweet release as long as possible but still hitting each and every spot you craved. 

“Too cock dumb to respond? Look at my poor baby, too desperate to be fucked.” Tears had pricked your eyes as he intentionally slipped out of you and watch as your bubbling high was taken away from you. You knew it was a punishment, a sign that you were getting what you deserved. 

“You won’t come until I say, little flower-”

“But, Geralt! I’ll be so good, I promise. I won’t ever do that again!” He lifted his hand up to caress your cheek, his thumb dragging back and forth. He pressed your forehead against his and for a split second, you thought he would give you want. 

“You should’ve thought about that before flirting with that guy, hmm? You will come when I say, or you won’t come at all, got it?” You nodded vigorously, too desperate to care how ridiculous you sound. Once he got an okay, he inserted himself again and continued at a fast, mind-blowing pace. 

Your head hung back—that all too familiar feeling rising to the surface. You could feel the shake of your thighs, your panting seemingly to be loud and louder. He barely had done anything, and you were already ready to succumb to him. Your pussy clenched around him, about to gush against his cock, but then he halted. “Not yet, sweetheart.” 

The way he said it felt wicked as if he knew just how desperate you are for him. And he would be right. He was the only one that could make you feel this way. He smirked as you whined but obeyed his wishes. He placed his hands on the side of your face as he fucked your tight pussy over and over. 

“Who fucks you like this? Who fucks you so good you can’t even remember your own name? Was it that stranger? Answer me, petal.” 

“You! Only you. Fuck, Geralt, it’s always been you.”

Three times. Three fucking times. That’s how many times he had stopped, so you couldn’t come, and you were frustrated. He made you work for each one, pulling and edging to the brink until all sensations stop at once. Hot rushing tears were spread all over your face. Your cunt was pulsating and swollen, just begging—pleading for Geralt to give you what you wanted. 

“Please, Geralt! I need to come, please! I’ll do anything, I need you, please, please, please-”

“Do you want to cum on my fingers or my mouth?”

“Mouth, please, your mouth.” You felt shameless as you kept begging, needing some type of release. He sunk down to his knees, your legs resting on his shoulders to keep you steady. Your body lurched forward when he licked a stripe up your lips, his throat letting out a hum at your taste.  

You were too sensitive as he started to circle your clit, his tongue swirling and digging into the swollen flesh. You could feel your cunt throb and your mouth hung open in anticipation. His eyes never left yours, though, while he sucked you clean. 

He teased and prodded at your clit, fingers moving to feel the slick that rested on your sensitive lips. He moaned against you, your legs slightly shook at the sensation. 

“Please, Geralt, I-I can’t-”

“Sh, I’ve got you. You’ve been so good, petal.” He doesn’t wait for a response as he laps your glistening pussy. You’re crying and whimpering, making a full mess all over his lips. You could feel his hot, slick tongue press in and out. 

“Geralt, Geralt, Geralt,” You say his name as if it’s the only thing left in your mind, just him and his glorious tongue. It only eggs him on as his nose digs into your clit and applies just enough pressure to make your eyes roll in the back of your head. 

“You’re mine. You’re fucking mine.”

Your body feels rigid as something explodes, pure fire raging against your stomach. Your screams are loud and booming as they echos across the hallway. You scream his name, profanities, and anything that your mind could think of. You knew the whole pub heard, hell the whole village probably heard. He just leans there and continues to lap you up until there’s no drop left. 

He catches you immediately as your body falls limp, your eyes hooded with exhaustion. “You did good, little flower. I’m so proud.” A little smirk ghosts his features at the silence he hears from the pub, a burst of fuzziness clouding his mind. 

He gently carries you into one of the bedrooms and places small kisses on your shoulder. He starts to clean you up and smiles, your body limp against the bed, and your snores loudly filling the room.

“Sleep well, my darling love.”

~~

witcher: @harrysthiccthighss @borkingbarnes @dreams-of-sunlight-and-starfire @writingletterstothefire

geralt: @harrysthiccthighss @borkingbarnes @dreams-of-sunlight-and-starfire @doozywoozy @writingletterstothefire

permanent: @captainchrisstan @angstysebfan @teenagereadersciencenerd @rebekahdawkins @hailmary-yramliah @stardust-galaxies @wiccanmetallicrose @keithseabrook27 @hereforthesunrise

[aspidities]

It’s good to be back. 👋

So I did the whole ‘where I’ve been and how I’m doing’ post on Patreon a week or so back, and now it’s finally time for the Tumblr Version, in bullet points for your benefit!

1. Where have I been:

Well, like, still here. But just….I don’t know, not motivated. I moved in October (big yay!) and we got ourselves the puppy, both of which are great and also big life things. Do you know what no one tells you about raising a puppy? It’s like raising a baby. But WORSE. Babies can’t bite you or your furniture or destroy an entire $20 toy the second your back is turned—at least so I’m told.

And yes, I knew this going in and I still had much to learn, lol. Non stop sleep deprivation from nightly poop runs and lack of energy due to constant puppy supervision is a real drag on the old’ creative engine.

Is it worth it though?

Yes. Oh yes.

So 2. How is the puppy?

Great! Cloud took a long time to learn to sleep through the night but honestly he was otherwise an angel to deal with. Never had many accidents indoors, loves every dog and person he meets and is my girlfriend’s dog’s best friend. He’s now fully housebroken, sleeps through the night, knows about ten tricks, and mostly leaves the cats alone. He’s 6mos and a massive hunk at 54lbs and is the absolute best boy ever. Just the dumbest, sweetest, most obedient kid on the block. I love him and he’s my son, and I am his Dad.

So yeah, he’s doing great. You can even follow his Instagram @forecast_of_cloud where I am a huge Best in Show Dog Dad and post nearly every day.

3. Why haven’t I been posting here?

Well, aside from the puppy madness as described above, I have been going through several different creative and emotional journeys, and, as usual, have been totally unable to articulate any of them. Despite writing words being…y’know, the thing that I do.

First, Supergirl ended and that was kind of a wake up call in a way. I didn’t know what else to write once it had finished. I had existing ideas and I wanted to finish them but then….what next?

I’ve been writing fanfic for almost five years now, after a long hiatus from my teenage years, and it’s been wonderfully cathartic but ultimately I saw it originally as a means to an end: to get myself writing more original work. But that’s scary. Honestly, it is. Fanfic is so safe—you can rely on that framework of someone else’s plot, even a barely sketched out one, to hang your own design on. Writing your own work? Hard. Much harder. And no one cares as much as they do about your fanfic—with good reason! It’s harder to break into something you don’t know about.

But lately I have this feeling like I need to try. I’m not done writing fanfic (I still have to give Arcane and Yellowjackets a shot!), and i’m not done writing Supergirl—I just think my priorities have shifted in a big way. And it took me a long time to come to terms with that.

In addition, I found myself feeling more comfortable on the masc side of the non binary world than I ever expected, and the growth and change from that has been huge.

Luckily I have a lot of support and love in my life to help me along that way. ;)

Which brings me to 4. How are things in my relationship?

Awesome. 🥰

J is a wonderful partner and she’s been the main cheerleader for my original work. She is fierce wit, morbid humor, a devilishly good dress sense and a warm little weight on my chest all wrapped in a lacy package that smells of lavender and Yves St Laurent Black Opium. She cares so much about my well-being, both as a person and an artist, and she’s also supporting me in my masc journey by gleefully dressing me up every chance she gets. In return I make her breakfast almost every morning and rub her back every night. We make a beautiful pair of symbiotic creatures. I am a shrimp and she is my goby and we danced to Frank Sinatra while putting up our little Jewish Christmas tree and squeezed each other’s hands while singing along to Hedwig and the Angry Inch on our theatre Valentines date. It’s love, baby. What more is there to say?

So that’s the news from Asptown, where the women are beautiful and the men aren’t cis! I hope you all haven’t missed me too much. I’ll be posting more regularly and i’m STILL going through my messages so just hang in there with me if I haven’t got to you yet. It’s a good thing to be so well regarded, even if it can be overwhelming. I appreciate the heck out of you all. ❤️