#I’m also so sorry you had to deal with that

[spaceyaemonds]

pairing: dr. jack abbot x reader

sum.: you see your mother face to face for the first time in years, and it starts with a rocky conversation.

warnings: age gap (jack is late 40s, reader is 23), unplanned pregnancy, this is very much centered around reader and her mom (jack is only mentioned in this part), mentions of a difficult mother/daughter relationship, and angst due to that, i think that’s it?? minors DNI.

notes: i have still been struggling with a bit of writies block for this series :( so i am sorry if this is not the best. i also couldn’t quite get the flow right for this part. initially, jack and reader met with her mom, and then met with jacks mom (and his sister showed up) but as i was rereading it and trying to wrap it up today, i felt like it didn’t make a lot of sense, so decided to split part 7 up where it’s reader and her mom, jack and his mom, then them both with readers mom, and then with jacks mom. also, i really projected my own issues with my mom here, so if it feels like the relationship makes no sense that may be why💀 i hope you guys aren’t too disappointed with this! unedited. and as always, any feedback is extremely appreciated, it helps keep me motivated. especially reblogs/comments/asks!

wc: 1.3k (ish)

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You and Jack both decided it would probably be best for you to speak with your mother on your own for the initial conversation. You, knowing your mother and all the snide remarks she’ll be giving, and him, taking your word for it that this is the best way to go about it.

So, after taking an entire day off of work to prepare for her coming, your apartment was spotless and a nice lunch had been made.

Every so often, you feel your girl kick at you from the confines of your womb.

You feel your heart rate pick up at the knock that sounds throughout the apartment.

“Okay, bug, let’s get this over with.” You mumble as you rub a hand over your stomach.

When you open the door, you force your eyes not to roll back into your head when she immediately pulls you into her embrace.

“Oh, baby,” She mumbles as she kisses the side of your head repeatedly.

“Hi mom,” You awkwardly rub her back.

When she finally pulls away, she keeps her hands on your shoulders as she looks you over.

She glances between you and your stomach twice, “Oh, wow.”

There it is. You scoff lightly before opening the door a little more to let her in.

Once the two of you are sitting at your dining table, you check your phone for any updates from Jack on how his conversation with his own mother is going.

Your mom huffs in annoyance, “You haven’t seen your mother in almost three years, and the first thing you do is get on your phone?”

You nearly laugh, but hold it back, “And whose fault is that? You came up with nearly any excuse you could to not come here for graduation last year.”

She narrows her eyes at you, and for a moment you feel sixteen again, but you hold her eyes.

“Well, then I’ll just say what I feel should be said then,”

“Oh, let’s hear it then,” You mumble out sarcastically.

“I think you should move home to raise the baby, with my help.”

Now you do laugh, “I’m sorry, what?”

She raises an eyebrow at you, “Baby, what exactly do you think is going to happen here?”

You open your mouth to speak, but she continues, “A man old enough to be your father got you pregnant. And sure, he’s here now. But what happens when she’s born, huh? And he decides he doesn’t want to be a father? Or worse, tries to take her from you?”

Tears well up in your eyes before you can even stop them, “This is why you came? To lecture me about my life and then force me to come home with you?”

To her credit, her eye’s soften slightly, “No, baby, I’m just worried. This is a big deal.”

“You don’t even know him! All you do when I see you is try to dictate my life.”

She looks taken aback, “Now-“

“No, it’s true. You resent me for one reason or another for not turning out exactly like you wanted me too,”

“I wanted a better life for you then the one I had! Is that a crime?”

You scoff, “You hated me!”

Her mouth drops slightly, “I could never hate you. You are my child,”

She lets out a shaky breath, “Life was hard for us sometimes, and you didn’t make it any easier on me. I never hated you. I wanted the absolute best for you, that is still all I want for you.”

“Then don’t come here trying to sweep me away or convince me that the father of my baby is going to try to take her from me!” You grit the last part out, because no matter how hard you try to deny it, it’s still a very real fear for you.

She looks at you, frown ever present, “I am sorry if it seems like that’s all I came here to do. It wasn’t my intention, even if that’s what I think is for the best.”

You just shrug, not having anything else to say to her.

The two of you sit in an awkward silence for a few minutes before you get up and plate the salads you made for lunch.

You eat in silence before she finally speaks up again, “Well, tell me all about it.”

You glance up, brow furrowed, “About what?”

“The baby. Her dad. Your life. Everything.” She has a smile on her face that transports you back to being ten years old, when she was your best friend and made you feel so loved and so invincible.

She must sense your distrust, because her face falls slightly.

“It’s a girl, I think I mentioned it, but if I didn’t. She’s a girl,” You smile when you talk about her.

You tell your mom names you’ve picked out, the types of food you're craving, which she tells you when you mention cravings similar to the ones that she had.

You tell her about work and your friends. She smiles, and though you know her, know that she doesn’t love you living in Pittsburgh and the path you’ve chosen, you can tell she is happy for you.

“And how did you meet Jack?” Your mom asks casually as she takes a sip of water.

You wince, “Um, a bar?”

She coughs, face turning red, “Was this a one night stand?”

You wince again. You’d kept the details out initially. Just telling her that you’d met a guy and gotten pregnant but you were trying to still get to know each other. Which wasn’t a lie.

“I mean, I guess you could call it that?”

Your face heats up under the judgemental look in her eyes, and it causes you to shrink in on yourself.

She stares at you a moment longer, eyes glancing down at your stomach and lingering, “Is he good to you?”

You look at her, a soft smile taking over your face as you talk about him, “Yeah. I mean he’s busy a lot, but he’s always here when I need him. Goes to the store to get snacks in the middle of the night and wakes up with me if I get sick.”

Your eyes get distant as your hand rubs your stomach, “He’s changed his whole life for her, for me, and I know it isn’t conventional or anything. And he and I are doing this all backwards but,”

You trail off, eyes focusing back on her, “I think this is a really good thing. Scary, like really scary, but I think it will turn out really good.”

She reaches across the table to grab one of your hands, “I know you’re an adult who can make her own decisions, and I know there is no one harder on you than me. Trust me when I say I know that,”

To your surprise, she lets out a shaky breath and tears start to fill her eyes, “I know this is the time in your life for me to let you do what you think is best but I just can’t help but still want to keep you safe, safe with me.”

You haven’t felt the way you feel right now in almost a decade. Your relationship turned sour and complicated around the time you started high school. She was tough, and though you don’t have any ill feelings in your heart over it, she was jealous of the life you had when hers was so hard.

Moving for college mended some of that, but not all of it, and the resentment still lingered, however small, even some today.

But hearing that? It’s either your inner child begging for her mom again, or the hormones from growing your own, but it makes your chest feel heavy.

You squeeze her hand twice, against your better judgement.

[lanabuckybarnes]

| Heating Up |

18+ MINORS DNI

Pairing(s): Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Reader x Alpha!Steve Rogers

Warnings: A/B/O Themes, Heat, Polyamory, Oral (F), PinV Sex, Knotting, Two sickly sweet alphas who adore their baby — if I’ve missed any let me know.

Word count: 1.5k

Note: Well hello enjoyers of my work I’m so sorry I abandoned you but life came at me fast. Having a puppy is hard work and before I knew it he was almost a year old and I hadn’t posted in a long time. I had surgery also so with everything going on I haven’t had time to write but hopefully I’ll get back to it. For now please enjoy a lil snippet from my drafts you beautiful souls.

This has not been looked over thoroughly forgive my mistakes!!

Your mates were concerned to say the least. You’d spent all but the better half of this week avoiding them, choosing to spend most of your waking hours cooped up in your room instead—only leaving to eat when both men had vacated the house or were tucked up in the much larger bed in the master bedroom.

“Steve have you seen my shirt?” A half naked Bucky stomps in, a scowl marring his perfect features. His bonding mark on perfect display above ropes of muscle that rippled and stretched at each little movement he made.

Steve only hummed, jutting his chin out in the direction of the closed door, your separate little bedroom.

“Thought I couldn’t hear her sneaking out while you were showering, I saw her come back with it not even five minutes ago.” Steve tossed the contents of his frying pan into the air, making sure to catch everything again effortlessly.

This hadn’t been the first time Bucky or Steve’s clothing had vanished into thin air this week. Just the other day Steve and Bucky had gone to training, each of them discarding their clothing in a pile before showering. When they finished the pile was nowhere to be found. They’d tried to question you, Steve pulling on the handle of the closed door but it was locked.

They both had a sneaky suspicion about what was up but you hadn’t had anything since dating the Alphas. It would be strange for it to happen now, right?

They let your strange behaviour continue, you weren’t harming anyone but Bucky was chomping at the bit to see you again. The more reserved of the two had become quite smitten with you, his bonding mark itched when you weren’t joined at the hip and the itch was becoming too much to bear. He waited until Steve was distracted before picking the lock of your room and stepping in.

The first thing that hit him was your scent, heavy in the air, its cherry undertones strong and almost overpowering, he could almost taste it. His alpha brain clicked instantly and told him to leave you alone but his human side craved your contact.

You weren’t in the bed, the shower running let him know exactly where you were. The perfect cover for him. The white sheets had been thrown on the floor, the bed littered in Steve and his shirts and other discarded clothing. It took him only a second to realise that the arrangement was intricate and thought out. A nest.

“What? Get out!” You snarled from behind him, teeth bared and eyes crazy, your body wrapped in a little towel. He blinked at you for a second before promptly apologising for the intrusion and slinked out of the room, jumping lightly at the loud slam and click of the lock.

“She’s in heat.” Steve groaned from his spot in the hall. Your sweet scent had wafted throughout the house, alerting Steve of your vulnerability. His cock hardened in his pants as his pupils dilated, matching the same look Bucky had.

Both of your poor alphas went to bed painfully hard, trying to ignore your soft yowls from the other room. You tried to hold off, deal with the feeling on your own but you couldn’t, you needed them.

-

Steve awoke instantly at the creak of their door, his nose twitching at your smell. He glanced over to Bucky who clutched your pillow, still fast asleep.

Your whimpers grew closer, the bed dipping under your weight as you crawled onto the mattress, until you straddled Steve.

“Stevieee,” you moaned weakly, your hips grinding into his brief covered crotch, your pussy hot against him. You whined as his length twitched against you, hardening easily.

“Oh angel, you’re in heat?” He asked, his large hands helping you move. When you nodded he snarled, flipping you both over until your head made contact with the pillow in Bucky’s arms, Steve’s head nuzzling into your neck, his teeth nipping and licking at your bonding mark. The ministrations had your sweet scent flowing from you in waves. The scent woke Bucky up, his hot breath on the side of your face as he growled lowly.

“Babygirl, you finally come around?” He chuckled at the pathetic sound that fell from your lips, your hand carding through Steve’s dirty blonde locks as he kissed down your almost naked body. Your panties clung to you as another wave of slick fell from you.

“Don’t k-know why…mm Stevie…just felt hot and needy,” you babbled, tears pooling in your water line as you looked up at Bucky. He thought you looked absolutely ravishing, your lip petted and swollen from your lip biting, your body flushed and glistening already.

“You shouldn’t have held back from us omega, you know we live to serve you.” You cried out at his words, nodding before leaning up slightly to slot his lips with yours.

Steve’s chuckle vibrated against your core as he watched how desperate you were. Steve didn’t mind that you and Bucky had such a close relationship, you were his first after all, but he knew you loved him too. Especially when he suckled on your sweet scent through your cotton panties.

“Mmm Stevieee,” your head fell back onto the sheets, your mouth gaping as your eyes fell shut, the fingers in his hair tugging tightly.

“You like that angel? Like your Alpha tasting you? Taste so sweet omega, so fucking sweet.” He growled, hooking a finger into the gusset of your panties before devouring your pussy.

Your sweet moans and whines were like music to your Alphas ears, your hips grinding up and practically riding Steve’s bearded face. You came undone when his nose nudged your sensitive little bud, your cunt gushing over his bearded face. You didn’t even know you could leak that much.

“Oh pleasepleaseplease Alpha, need your knot so bad, so so so bad,” you sobbed, uncaring of who’s knot you got, you just needed to be filled.

“Ok babygirl, alphas got you ok? We’ll let Stevie fuck that weeping cunt first alright, since he was such a good boy and made you cum” Bucky moved so he was sitting behind you, his arms holding your hips while Steve slipped your panties off before moving each of your feet to rest on his bulging thighs, spreading you out for the blonde haired man.

You keened at the sight of Steve’s long length, the curve of his cock decorated in thick, rope like veins leading to a fat tip. He might not have been as thick as Bucky but he still stretched you out nice.

You both moaned in tandem with each other as Steve sunk into you, his head grazing the rigid skin of your sweet spot making you clench around him almost painfully.

“Ohh fuck angel so tight, mmm relax lemme breed that sweet pussy ‘mega” he was panting already, balls slapping against you as he fucked you deeply, making sure you could feel everything. Your soft noises mixed with the slick slapping sound and wet squelching filled the room, your pussy gushing all over the sheets. You must’ve looked pathetic, wailing for your alphas cock to breed you full.

To both of them though, you were the sexiest fucking thing ever. Bucky lipsed down your neck, whispering sweet nothings to you as Steve picked up his pace.

“Ohh there we go babygirl, taking it like a fucking champ. Stevie gonna breed you full of his pups yeah? Look at how soaked you’ve got him, such a good little omega”

Bucky’s filthy words paired with Steve’s swelling knot sent you over the edge, your screams reverberating off the walls—neighbours be damned. Steve followed suit, pressing as deep as he could into you before spilling his seed, his knot swollen to full size to prevent anything from slipping out.

You might’ve blacked out, you don’t know, the only thing you could vaguely register was Steve’s teeth biting down on your dark mark, causing another shockwave of your orgasm to shoot through you.

“There we go babygirl that’s it took it so well, ohh my fucking god” Steve’s chest rumbled with laughter as he settled, grabbing the water Bucky handed him and gulping down gratefully before helping you take a drink yourself.

Both of them moved so that you lay on top of Steve, waiting for the swell of his knot to settle. Bucky’s fingers brushed through your locks, his head laying on Steve’s other pec so he could kiss you gently.

“Take a little nap babygirl ‘cause once Stevie’s knot is gone I’m gonna fucking ruin that cunt, ok?” Despite the sweet way he spoke you knew Bucky meant every single word of it. And your pussy throbbed with excitement.

“We are never gonna survive this” Steve joked after you’d fallen asleep, his hand running up and down your bare arm. Bucky laughed in agreement before speaking,

“We’ll give it our best shot.”

-

[bucketsorbueckers]

No Hard Feelings - Chapter 7

Paige X Azzi

warning: language

A/N: for once, i'm not sorry. have fun :) happy sunday.

word count: 6K

Azzi’s POV

Last Year

It wasn’t anything elaborate. Just dinner.

Azzi had picked the spot. A little place near campus with string lights and soft music and those booths where you could sit side by side instead of across from each other.

She’d texted Paige the time. Even picked out the outfit she knew Paige liked. Jeans and the oversized cream sweater that always made her smile.

And Paige said she’d be there. “7:00. I’m yours.”

Azzi got there at 6:45. Ordered water. Checked her phone. Waited.

When 7:02 rolled around, she wasn’t really nervous. Paige was prompt, typically, but Paige was also busy. The spotlight she’d always existed in had somehow swelled—so large now that the light nearly eclipsed everything.

And Azzi understood that. She really did.

Sometimes, things came up. Things Paige couldn’t plan for. Things that weren’t her fault. So Azzi breathed through it. Smoothed the hem of her sweater. Picked at the condensation on her glass.

Even when the clock hit 7:11. Even when the server came by again, smiling too gently. Even when the door kept opening and never revealed the face she was waiting for.

She told herself to wait five more minutes. Then five more after that.

By 7:25, she wasn’t checking her phone for texts. She was just watching the minutes pile up, quiet and heavy and stupidly hopeful.

The waiter stopped by. Awkward. Kind. Pitying in a way he probably didn’t mean to be.

“Still waiting?” he asked, glancing at the empty seat across from her.

Azzi nodded. Sort of. There wasn’t much conviction left in it. A half-smile. A polite maybe.

By 7:35, though, she felt silly.

Not furious. Not even disappointed, just…stupid. For thinking maybe tonight would be different. For getting ready a little too early. For straightening her hair and putting on makeup she didn’t even really like. For trying.

She pulled her sleeves down over her hands, stared at the flickering candle in the middle of the table. Willed herself not to look at the door again.

It was just a dinner, she reasoned. But it was one she had planned. For them. Because they hadn’t had a them moment in a while, and she thought maybe it would help.

Especially with the tournament starting in two days. She’d figured this would be good, for them, for Paige, for her. A moment to breathe before the pressure sank its teeth in. A reminder that they existed outside of wins and stats and noise.

Finally, her phone rang. She exhaled before picking it up, already bracing for the shape of the apology.

“Az,” Paige’s voice came through, rushed and familiar, like it always was when she realized too late.

Azzi didn’t say anything. Just waited.

“I’m so sorry. The podcast ran over. I tried to get out of it but my manager made it clear it was a big deal and so I just. Azzi, I’m sorry. Are you still at the restaurant? I’m on my way.”

Azzi looked down at the table—half a water glass, a candle nearly burned out. The napkin she’d folded and unfolded three times.

She dropped it gently beside her plate, stood.

“No. I left a while ago.” A beat. “No worries, P. I know you’re busy.”

And it wasn’t even a lie. She did know Paige was busy. Her life spun faster than most people’s. Always somewhere, always someone needing something. It was the cost of being extraordinary. Azzi had never resented that.

“No,” Paige pressed back. “I’m not ever too busy for us. For you.”

Azzi bit down on her bottom lip as she threw a few bills on the table. Just a tip for their time and the awkwardness she knew she had made them feel. And as she headed out, she felt a bit upset. Nothing to cause a scene but enough to let it boil over. 

“It’s fine, P. I know I’m not your girlfriend. You don’t owe me anything.”

There was a beat. Just long enough to hear Paige inhale.

“Azzi,” she said quickly, “you know—”

But the line went dead. Azzi blinked at the screen, frowning. Blank. Dead. She sighed as she put the car in drive and headed back to campus. 

Around an hour late, a knock. Sharp. Too fast. Like whoever’s behind it was pacing.

Azzi blinked at the door. It was well past 9 PM. No one knocked at this hour unless something was wrong.

Azzi opened the door slowly. And there she was. Windblown, flushed, heart in her hands, literally. Paige. 

A bouquet of daisies. Azzi’s favorite. The kind she mentioned once, offhand, after a road game. A bag from that bakery in West Hartford—chocolate croissants with the flaked salt she loved, still warm. And tucked beneath it all, a small card with her name on it. In Paige’s handwriting. Slanted. Rushed.

She looked like she hadn’t taken a full breath since their phone call. 

“I know you said I don’t owe you anything,” Paige blurted, “but I owe you this.”  She stepped forward, arms overflowing, eyes too bright. “You didn’t think I wanted you to be my girlfriend?”

Azzi didn’t say anything. Not right away.

“You never asked,” she said finally.

Paige let out a soft laugh. Half breath, half nerves. “I didn’t ask because I didn’t think you’d say yes.”

She was holding the bouquet like she hadn’t realized she’d been crushing it. Azzi’s favorite, of course. Because Paige always knew. She looked at her, like the next sentence might actually hurt.

“You scare the shit out of me,” she said. “I didn’t think you’d give me the chance.”

Azzi’s eyes narrowed, but not unkindly. “Paige. We’ve been doing this for months.”

Her voice was flat, but her ears were burning. 

Paige shrugged. “Yeah, but I didn’t think you’d let me say it out loud.”

Azzi stared at her for a long second, then shook her head. “You’re such an idiot.”

“An idiot with croissants,” Paige said, holding the bag up slightly.

Azzi rolled her eyes, but her smile gave her away.

“You could’ve asked,” she muttered.

Paige grinned, wide and relieved and so painfully her.

“Why do you think I’m here?” she said, already setting the flowers and the croissants down on Azzi’s desk like she’d planned this out, even though they both knew she hadn’t.

Then she turned, suddenly shy in a way Azzi almost never saw.

“Azzi Fudd,” she said, grinning. “My best friend. My favorite person. The only one who tells me when I’m being insufferable and somehow still likes me anyway…” She took a breath.“…will you be my girlfriend?”

Azzi just stared at her for a second. Long enough that Paige started shifting her weight, like she was already preparing to get turned down. But then Azzi smiled. Small. Real. The kind of smile that tugged up slow, like she was trying not to let it show too much.

“Yeah,” she said softly. “Yeah, okay.”

Paige let out the kind of breath that sounded like she’d been holding it for weeks.

“Cool,” Paige said, cheeks pink. “Cool cool cool.”

Azzi grinned. “Someone once told me Paige Bueckers doesn’t get nervous.”

“Yeah, well,” Paige said, tilting her chin up like she hadn’t just brought a pastry peace offering and confessed her feelings. “That version of Paige Bueckers didn’t have a reason to be.”

Azzi snorted. “Sure. Generational player. Plastered on screens and billboards. Fighting to be one of the best to ever do it. No pressure.”

Paige shrugged, lips tugging into a smirk. “Yeah, but that version had never asked the Azzi Fudd to be her girlfriend.”

Azzi rolled her eyes, but her smile was stupid-wide.“You’re ridiculous.”

“Maybe,” She said. “But I am your girlfriend.”

Azzi laughed, shaking her head. 

“Say it, Az.” Paige said. Azzi tilted her head. “Say I’m your girlfriend.”

Azzi couldn’t even try to bite back her smile, “You’re my girlfriend, Paige Bueckers.”

“You’re fucking right I am,” She muttered, popping a bite of croissant into her mouth before closing the space between them. 

The bus came to a harsh stop in front of the hotel. Unexpectedly.

Azzi blinked hard, her head jerking off the window. Around her, the team stirred in slow waves. Hoods pulled back, tangled legs uncurled, groggy voices muttering about food and beds.

She grabbed her bag and followed the shuffle into the lobby, where room keys were being handed out one by one. CD looked exhausted already, trying to get the already exhausted group to focus for five seconds. 

“Fudd,” she called.

Azzi stepped forward, took the sleeve, and glanced at the number: 535. She flipped it over.

Roommate: Bueckers.

Her stomach dipped.

“Wait,” she said, too quietly at first. Then again: “Wait—sorry, I usually room with Caroline or Jana.”

CD didn't even look up. “Jana requested Caroline. Said they’re in some group project together for a psych class and needed to finish a big chunk of it this weekend.”

Azzi blinked. “They don’t even have a class together.”

Across the lobby, Jana was gesturing wildly with a manila folder, holding it up like it contained nuclear codes, while Caroline sat slumped in a chair, mouthing I hate you with the full force of someone who absolutely did not sign up for this.

Azzi tried to catch either of their attention, but they never looked her way.

“And Nika?” Azzi asked.

The assistant coach was already moving on to the next name. “Azzi, take the key and go get some rest.”

Azzi stared at the card. Room 535. Bueckers.

It wasn’t like they hadn’t roomed together before. They had. For years. But not since…everything.

She took a breath. Stuffed the card into her hoodie pocket and headed toward the elevator.

Paige was nowhere in sight. Not in the lobby, not at the front desk, not trailing behind anyone else like she’d gotten stuck signing something or charming the staff. Azzi figured she’d see her soon enough. She always did. Paige had this uncanny way of showing up exactly when you’d finally stopped waiting.

The elevator creaked open and Azzi stepped inside, one of the freshmen yawning beside her like she hadn’t just slept for two hours on the bus with her forehead pressed against the window.

Fifth floor.

She followed the numbers—529, 531, 533—and paused in front of 535.

The card key beeped on the first try. A small miracle given her experience. 

Inside, the room was dim and quiet. Two beds. Two lamps. One of everything. And her body ached to just fall face-first into one of them. But routines mattered. Especially on the road. Especially this early in the season, when everything still felt fragile and unearned—rhythm, chemistry, trust.

So instead of collapsing onto the mattress like every inch of her skin was begging her to, Azzi did what she always did: she dug through her bag, found her floss, and started there.

Standing in the hotel bathroom with the fan humming overhead and the fluorescent light making her look just a shade more exhausted than she felt, she threaded the floss between her teeth.

Normalcy, maybe. Control.

Her reflection blinked back at her. Dark circles, tight shoulders, a flash of something in her eyes she didn’t feel like naming.

Halfway through the process, she heard it. The door. A soft beep. The thud of it opening.

And then, Paige’s voice. Muffled. Half-laughing. Mid-conversation.

Azzi froze, floss still looped between her fingers. She hadn’t realized how quiet it had been until Paige’s voice filled the space. Or how much she’d been bracing for it.

The door clicked open just as Azzi was rinsing the mouthwash out of her mouth.

She turned, hand still on the faucet, to see Paige standing there. Bag slung over her shoulder, hood half-up, blinking like she'd just walked into a memory she wasn’t ready to remember.

She froze in the doorway. Like Azzi was the last person she expected to see.

“Az?”

Azzi nodded once, trying not to choke on the minty flavor still clinging to the back of her throat. She grabbed a towel, dabbed at her mouth, and leaned her hip against the sink.

“You didn’t know I was your roommate?”

“No,” she said. Honest. Like she couldn’t even pretend otherwise.

Azzi kept her face steady, even as her stomach coiled. “CD didn’t mention?”

Paige finally stepped inside. Set her bag down carefully, like she was trying not to disturb something fragile.

“Guess not,” she said. “I thought I’d be with Nika.”

Azzi nodded, once. Clipped. “Well. Surprise.”

Paige let out this little exhale. Not a laugh, not quite. More like the sound someone made when they weren’t sure what else to offer.

Azzi turned back to the mirror. Unscrewed the cap on her face wash. Let her fingers move the way they always did. She needed that. Needed something to do with her hands.

Behind her, Paige didn’t move. Still standing like the room wasn’t hers yet. Like Azzi’s presence took up too much space.

“Haven’t picked a bed yet,” Azzi said, eyes closed tight as she rubbed the cleanser into her cheeks. “Feel free to grab whatever.”

The words seemed to break whatever spell Paige was under. Kickstart her back into motion. She finally shut the door behind her with a soft click.

Azzi stayed in the bathroom a little longer than necessary. Slow. Methodical. Borderline dramatic with each step. A delay. A stall tactic. But eventually, there was nothing left to do. She stepped back into the room just in time to catch Paige mid-change, half undressed.

“Oh god,” Azzi blurted, immediately covering her eyes. “I—I’m sorry. I didn’t think—”

“Az,” Paige sighed. “It’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”

And somehow, that made it worse.

When Azzi finally peeked, Paige was already changed. Her usual oversized t-shirt and boxers…so familiar it formed a chasm in Azzi’s chest.’

The shirt was the same one from last year’s tournament. Soft with age. The logo cracked down the middle. Azzi had stolen it once for an entire week and Paige hadn’t even asked for it back. The same boxers she always wore to sleep, the ones she insisted were the only kind that didn’t bunch up because she moved a lot when she slept. The way she stood, arms crossed over her chest, hair falling in that exact way it always did when she was a little sleepy. 

Memories started stacking. Fast. Sloppy. Unmanageable.

The way Paige always tucked her hair behind both ears before bed.

The way she used to stretch her legs across Azzi’s lap without asking.

The way that shirt used to smell like them.

Azzi blinked. Swallowed. Tried not to let any of it show on her face.

“Done with the bathroom?” Paige asked, voice tight, polite.

Azzi nodded, her mouth dry.

Paige didn’t say anything else. Just offered a quick smile and moved past her with careful steps. Like even brushing against her would’ve been too much. And Azzi stood there, stuck somewhere between nostalgia and nausea.

The sound of the toilet flushing knocked her back into the present.

She turned toward the beds and saw that Paige had taken the one near the window.

Of course she had.

Azzi wasn’t surprised. Paige knew she hated mornings. The way the light cut through even the heaviest hotel curtains, always finding the one sliver of skin left exposed. It made her grumpy, disoriented. Paige used to tease her about it. Used to guard the window like it was her job. And now she’d chosen the window bed. Not to provoke. Not to be kind. Just… because she remembered.

It was a terribly damning thing: to be known that well by someone who wasn’t yours anymore. And worse still, to feel the knowing in your bones, and want it anyway.

Eventually, Paige came back.

They didn’t talk about it. Whatever it was. Just moved around the room in that too-careful way—like if they touched the wrong thing, the whole thing might collapse in on itself. They both climbed into bed with a sigh too synchronized to be accidental. The lamp between them stayed on.

Azzi was tired, but the wrong kind. The kind that settled in her bones and buzzed behind her eyes. The kind that made her too aware of everything—the way the sheets felt too stiff, the hum of the air conditioner, the sound of Paige shifting under the covers like she was trying not to make a sound.

Paige sighed. Not dramatically. Just… enough.

“Hey, Az?” she said softly.

“Mm?”

“You wanna watch a movie? Love and Basketball?”

Azzi didn’t answer right away. Her phone buzzed on the nightstand. Screen lit up with Cam’s name. FaceTime. She had promised she’d call once they were in for the night. And she’d meant to. She really had. She just hadn’t expected this.

She looked at the phone. Watched it vibrate against the wood, inching closer to the edge like it might throw itself off if she didn’t decide soon.

Then she looked at Paige.

Glasses slightly crooked. Hair still damp from the shower, curling at the ends. A little star-shaped pimple patch on her cheek like she forgot it was there. Paige. Not perfect. Not polished. Just…hers. In all the ways that mattered. In all the ways that hurt.

The phone buzzed again. Azzi didn’t flinch. She didn’t sigh. She didn’t explain.

She just reached out and hit Ignore.

“Sure,” she said, voice barely above a whisper.

And Paige smiled.

Paige’s POV

Paige fumbled with the cords, trying to get her laptop to mirror onto the TV. Her fingers were clumsy with it. 

Usually, Azzi would just crawl into her bed. No discussion. No hesitation. They’d watch the movie on her laptop until Azzi fell asleep, head tilted toward her shoulder like she didn’t mean to.

But Paige knew better than to ask for that now.So she didn’t. Just went full tech-mode instead, pretending she wasn’t trying to fill the silence with HDMI cables and remote settings. 

Finally, the movie flickered onto the screen and Paige exhaled, the tension in her shoulders loosening just slightly.

“There we go,” she muttered. She backed away from the TV, retreating to her bed like it might swallow her whole if she let it. She tugged the blanket up to her chin, even though it was too warm for it.

She kept her eyes on the screen. Not on Azzi. Definitely not on Azzi.

The opening notes of Love & Basketball filled the room—soft, familiar, painfully specific. It was their movie. The one they always said they’d never get sick of, even after a hundred rewatchings.

Paige could practically hear it before it even started: Azzi pretending not to mouth the lines, Paige pretending not to watch her do it.

She remembered the first time they’d watched this movie together.

How Azzi had curled into her side without asking. How Paige had gone stiff for maybe five seconds. Long enough to catalog the heat of Azzi’s shoulder, the press of her thigh. Short enough to convince herself Azzi hadn’t noticed.

She didn’t remember most of the movie. Just the way Azzi smelled like vanilla shampoo and chlorine. The way her breath landed soft against Paige’s collarbone, steady and unbothered. Like she’d done this a hundred times. Like Paige wasn’t sitting there trying to remember how to breathe.

She’d kept her eyes on the screen, nodding along like she was following the plot, but her heart had been screaming something else entirely.

Something terrifying. Something gentle.

Something that sounded a lot like: oh.

She already knew she liked girls. That part wasn’t new. But this felt different. It wasn’t the idea of love that scared her.

It was Azzi.

Azzi, who didn’t need to say much to be heard. Who was careful with her words and even more careful with her eyes. Azzi, the prettiest girl Paige had ever seen.

Paige stared straight ahead and pretended to follow the plot, but all she could think was: Is it supposed to feel like this?

Like awe.

Like falling.

Like maybe if she looked down, she'd see her heart sitting there in her lap, cracked open and waiting.

They were eighteen then. Too young to call it love and too far gone to pretend it wasn’t. And lying here now, years later, Azzi a few feet away, Paige could still feel it.

That same oh. That same ache. That same, stupid, impossible kind of love that had never left her, not really.

And still, Paige just stared at the TV. Kept her face neutral, her breathing even. The movie played on.

But eventually she lost the war.

Her eyes dragged away from the screen like they had a mind of their own, landing on Azzi across the room, curled up under her blanket, face lit soft and golden by the TV glow.

She looked the same and entirely different. The same slope of her nose. The same stubborn crease between her brows when she was thinking too hard. But something about the distance, about the space between the beds that used to not exist, made it all feel unfamiliar.

Azzi hadn’t looked over once. Not when the movie started. Not when Paige picked this movie of all of them. Not even when Monica let Quincy into her room like it was the easiest decision in the world.

Paige swallowed, suddenly aware of every inch between them. She turned back to the screen. Let it play. Let the dialogue hit her chest and echo there. But she didn’t laugh at the funny parts. Didn’t smile at the familiar ones.

They were nearly three-quarters through the movie when Azzi’s fidgeting got so persistent it pulled Paige out of the trance she'd been forcing herself into. At first it was small. Blanket shifts, the soft rustle of cotton against skin. But now it was rhythmic. Anxious. Like something in her couldn’t sit still anymore.

Reluctantly, Paige dragged her eyes away from the screen. Azzi was already looking at her. And Paige inhaled—sharp and shallow—like she’d been caught in the middle of a confession.

It wasn’t fair, the way Azzi looked at her. It stripped away all of Paige’s common sense, like it always had. Plucked any reasoning she’d carefully stitched together over the past few weeks and tossed it out the window like it had never mattered.

Because it didn’t. Not really. Not when Azzi looked at her like that. Like they were still in love. Like none of the distance even existed. Like Paige hadn’t cried in her car for forty minutes just last week because she missed her person. 

Paige felt her chest tighten. Her body remembered this look. Her skin did too.

She used to think that if Azzi ever looked at her like this again, she’d say something brave. Something honest. Something like don’t leave again or I never stopped or you ruined me and I let you.

But it wasn’t any of those things.

It was something more broken. More battered. More hers.

“Fuck, Az,” she rasped, voice catching like it hurt to say. “Please come here. Please.”

Azzi’s eyes widened. Just a flicker. Barely there. But Paige caught it like she always did. That soft edge of surprise, the way her breath caught, the way her fingers tightened in the blanket.

For a second, she didn’t move. Like she needed a beat to decide if she’d imagined it. If Paige really meant it. If this wasn’t some cruel trick of memory and low lamplight.

Then—slowly, like the world might shatter if she got it wrong—Azzi shifted. Tossed back the covers. Crossed the space between them like it hurt. And Paige just watched her come closer. Watched her come home.

Paige lifted the comforter without a word, scooting toward the middle of the bed, making room like it was instinct. Like her body remembered even if her mind was still catching up.

Azzi hesitated for just a second, like she didn’t know if she was allowed, before crawling into the space that had always belonged to her. She tucked her knees to her chest, careful not to take up too much room. Like she didn’t want to be a burden. Like she thought this might still be temporary.

And Paige stayed where she was. Kept the space between them. Because she should. Because she was supposed to. Because reaching for her might mean admitting something that she couldn’t take back.

But even with the inches between them, her body softened. Uncoiled. Deflated in the best, most dangerous way. Like finally, finally, she could rest.

Paige watched as Azzi reached out, her hand trembling just slightly as it hovered near the lamp.

“Okay?” Azzi whispered.

Paige couldn’t trust herself to speak. She made a sound. A half grunt, half exhale that must’ve been enough, because a second later, Azzi clicked the switch. And the room was swallowed by darkness. It was the kind of dark that made every breath feel louder. The kind that pressed in around them.

They lay there, inches apart.

Close enough that Paige could feel the heat of Azzi’s body radiating under the blanket. Close enough that she could smell her shampoo. That warm, familiar vanilla one that used to cling to Paige’s pillows long after she’d left.

Paige stared up at the ceiling she couldn’t see. Paige stared up at the ceiling she couldn’t see. Her fingers ached to move. To reach. To close the smallest distance she had ever felt so violently aware of. But she didn’t. She stayed still.

Seconds stretched into minutes. But Paige could tell Azzi was still awake. She didn’t need to look. She knew the difference.

Azzi had a way of breathing when she slept. Soft and steady, like the world couldn’t touch her. Paige used to stay awake just to listen to it. Used to lie there in the dark, barely blinking, afraid that if she closed her eyes she’d wake up and find it was all some cruel dream.

She’d memorize the rhythm. Count the beats between inhales. Trace the shape of contentment in every exhale.

She’d never told Azzi that. Never admitted how long she stayed awake most nights, just watching her sleep. Just trying to believe that she got to have this. That she got to keep her.

And now they were here again. Bodies curled close, breaths shared in the dark.

Paige had almost convinced herself not to hope. Almost convinced herself that Azzi would fall asleep first, that the silence would stretch until morning and they could pretend this never happened. That lying side by side in the dark, hearts beating too loud, didn’t mean anything anymore.

But then, a whisper. So soft Paige almost missed it.

“Paige?”

She stiffened, the sound of her name pulling her from half sleep like a tide. She rolled onto her side, careful not to jostle the space between them, even though it barely existed anymore.

“Hm?”

"Can I ask you something?" Azzi’s voice, barely a breath.

Paige turned her head on the pillow, heart thudding. “Yeah.”

A pause. Long enough that Paige thought maybe she’d changed her mind.

Then: “Do you still think about it?” Azzi asked. “About us?”

Paige blinked into the dark.

“Every day,” she said. No hesitation. No point in pretending.

Azzi was quiet again. And then, even softer,

“Will you hold me?”

Paige’s breath caught. She didn’t speak. She just shifted. Closed the distance they’d both been pretending not to notice. Reached for Azzi under the covers, pulled her close.

Azzi melted into her like she belonged there. Like she always had. Her head tucked beneath Paige’s chin. A hand resting gently at her waist.

They lay like that for a while.

Tangled limbs and silence. The kind of quiet that wasn't empty but full—thick with everything they hadn't said and maybe still couldn't. Paige’s fingers moved in slow, steady circles against the bare skin of Azzi’s back, like she was trying to memorize her all over again.

“Paige?”

Her name, again. Soft. Almost afraid. Paige closed her eyes. She’d heard her name in packed arenas. On highlight reels. Echoing through speakers loud enough to shake the floor. She’d heard it shouted by coaches, screamed by fans, printed in headlines.

But nothing ever touched her like the way Azzi said it. Like it wasn’t just a name. Like it still belonged to her. The girl underneath all of it. Just Paige. As she was. As Azzi had always seen her.

“Yeah?” she whispered.

Another pause. The kind that made her heart crawl up into her throat.

“I’m sorry,” Azzi choked out. The words barely made it past her lips, like they’d been caught in her throat for weeks. Maybe longer.

Paige froze, her hand stilling against Azzi’s back. She didn’t need to ask what for. She already knew. All of it. The leaving. The silence. The terrible, aching gap that had lived between them for months, growing roots in all the places love used to be.

Azzi’s breath stuttered. “I was scared. Of what it meant to keep you. Of what it would do to lose you. Of not being enough for either. So I left before you could realize I wasn’t.”

Paige felt the words like bruises blooming across her chest. She tugged Azzi closer, wrapping an arm around her like she could anchor her there. She didn’t speak because she knew Azzi wasn’t done. Knew she needed the words out of her body, spoken into the dark where they could breathe.

“I missed you so much it made me mean,” Azzi whispered, voice trembling. Paige closed her eyes. Let the ache rise. Let it settle. “I’m never mean.”

That made Paige laugh. Not loud. Not happy. Just...a sound, cracked open from somewhere deep. 

“And I’m sorry,” Azzi said. “I know you deserve more than that but—”

Paige didn’t let her finish.

She leaned in and pressed her lips to Azzi’s before the spiral could pull her under. It wasn’t desperate. It wasn’t rehearsed. It was instinct. Tenderness. The only way she knew how to say you’re here now, and I still want you anyway.

Azzi stilled. Then melted like her body had been waiting for permission to exhale. And in that quiet collapse, Paige tasted everything.

The apology. The ache. The impossible kind of wanting that clung to the bones no matter how many times they tried to shake it loose.

That kiss wasn’t a fix. But instead a soft, trembling maybe that they both desperately needed.

When she pulled away, Paige could just make out Azzi’s face in the faint light bleeding through the window. Shadow and softness and everything she’d almost forgotten how to survive without.

“I know,” she whispered, and it came out gentler than she meant. Like forgiveness wrapped in silk. “I know.”

She reached up, brushed a thumb across Azzi’s cheek, caught a tear before it fell. Let her fingers linger.

“But not right now,” she murmured, barely more than breath. “Please.”

Azzi stilled. And Paige closed her eyes.

“I just want to hold you,” she said. “We can ruin each other tomorrow. Tonight, I just want this.”

Azzi didn’t speak. Didn’t argue. Just gave the smallest nod. Barely a movement, but full of meaning. A truce. A surrender. A yes, okay, I’ll let you hold the weight of this, just for tonight.

Then, slowly, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to the curve of Paige’s neck. Not in apology. Not in desperation.

But in something quieter. Something closer to reverence. Like she wanted to leave a part of herself there, just in case she couldn’t find the words later.

Paige’s breath caught.

And then Azzi curled into her chest, like she wanted to disappear into the shape of her. Like if she pressed close enough, deep enough, they might become one person. One heart. One body that didn’t know how to stay broken.

Paige held her tighter. Her chin rested on Azzi’s head, her hands at her back, their legs tangled, inseparably so.

And then, Paige closed her eyes.

She waited for the sound of Azzi’s breathing to slow. It didn’t take long, just a few minutes of quiet, curled-up stillness, and then there it was. That rhythm Paige knew by heart. 

She existed in it for a while. Let herself feel every inhale, every exhale, like they were proof. That Azzi was here. That this was happening. That she hadn’t imagined her way into another night of almosts.

But she didn’t let herself believe it was permanent. Not yet.

She just held the girl she loved, like maybe if she stayed still enough, the world wouldn’t notice. Wouldn’t ask them to name it. Wouldn’t make them say all the things they were still too scared to speak aloud.

And if this was all they got…

This night, this silence, this impossible closeness, then Paige would take it. She’d memorize it. Stitch it into the lining of her ribs. Carry it like a secret she never wanted to let go of.

That night, Paige Bueckers slept. Really slept. For the first time in weeks, her body unknotted, her mind quiet. Not because it was fixed. Not because they were okay. But because Azzi was in her arms, and that had always been enough.

And when morning came—when sunlight broke through the curtains and laid its golden weight across the bed like a question—Paige didn’t flinch.

She didn’t pull away. She pulled Azzi closer, pressed a kiss to her temple, and whispered something so soft it barely reached the air.

Stay.

Not just for now. Not just for this.

But for everything.

[peanutalergy]

Mr. Winston - SR x reader

The BAU doesn't really need your help with the case. Spencer does. tags: post prison! spencer, fem! child psychologist! reader. cm type violence (blood, murder, etc), traumatized child. pre-relationship yearning MAYBE ? maybe fluff also sorry i still don't know how to classify these things. the synopsis doesn't really make any sense because this is kinda spencer's pov but idk guys sorry im really tired. w/c: 1.5k (this was originally 5.4k words but then i reread it and found that i actually hated every single one of them so...) a/n: okay so wow... i had so much fun writing this (let's ignore most of my posts from the past two weeks) THE THING IS i sorta already had a pt2 to this but then i thought well we can't have that without the beginning so i did kinda write this in a rush im really sorry that it's so short and shitty. . . ALSO i really love this reader & i'd love to write more of her but if you don't like it then i don't like it either and i'll never write again if you tell me not to. i do not think this is good by any means. i do hate it but if i stared at the google docs page for any longer i'd go insane.

Spencer doesn’t treat her like she’s made of porcelain because she’d be easily broken (though, she would, but neither of you say that since you can tell how hard she tried to look strong before coming to the precinct). He treats her like she’s fragile because he can’t remember the last time he didn’t break something like this — wide-eyed and shaking, holding onto something soft like it’s the only real thing around.

He was the one who convinced the team to ask for your help when the kid got involved — he always is. They insisted it wasn’t needed, you can deal with her yourself, you’ve always been good with children, or whatever, but your office got a call from him anyway.

No one knows why he sticks around. Maybe it’s the way you hold her; the gentle hand that runs through her hair, much warmer than the tiny fingers with chewed off nails and blood stains. Maybe he’s trying to memorize the tone of your voice — soft and sweeter than the apple juice she didn’t open, rambling about the silliest things you can think of — to imitate it next time he finds himself having to question kids. Maybe it’s the teacup in your other hand (the one he made you) and the way you so casually sip from it. As if this delicacy came to you as easily as taking a breath, while he struggled even with breathing.

Either way, despite his hesitance, he’s always sure to be around if you’re working on a case with them. Watching from the corner in a way that might have seemed creepy if only you didn’t smile so often back at him.

Amelia Murphy, 6 years old.

She sits at the end of the couch, legs tucked up to her chest like she’s trying to make herself as small as a crumb on the untouched sandwich going stale by her side. Spencer stands at the edge of the room, a smile threatening to peek through as he listens to your stories about the stuffed animals on your bed.

“You can’t tell any of his buddies, okay?” she nods, small but enough for you, “Mr. Winston is my favorite teddy out of all the ones I have.”

“Why?” You and the agent have to hide a surprised expression at the sound of her quiet voice, ragged and hoarse, coming out for the first time tonight. 

“Because he’s been with me since I was very, very young.” You chuckle lightly, “I must’ve been around your age when my grandma gifted him to me.”

“How do you know my age?”

You look at Spencer. He takes that as an ask for help (it really wasn't) and moves before you can speak again, still as careful as possible as he sits on the armchair next to the couch and joins in on the conversation like you suggested to him so often. “We don’t, actually.” She doesn’t flinch like he feared she would, so he continues with a soft smile, “I’m sure my friend was just trying to say she was young, like you are.”

Amelia tilts her head, small brows furrowed as softly as she mutters, “Really?”

“Yeah.” He nods, “We don’t really know how old you are.”

“I’m… six.” Her fingers, miniature sized when compared to Spencer’s, struggle for a second before arranging into a six, “This much.”

You smile and pretend to write it down on your clipboard, “That’s a lot.”

He laughs in half disbelief, half joy when she asks, “Well, how old are you?”

“Do you want to guess?”

“Uhm…” Tiny hand scratching her chin, she examines him like she knows what she’s doing. He looks to you in pure confusion during the seconds she stays quiet. “A hundred?”

He holds back a snort, “Not quite, no. Do you wanna try again?”

During most of the time he talks to her, you stay quiet. He often looks to you, hesitating, asking for some sort of reassurance that he’s doing this right — you always give it to him with a barely there nod and a big smile.

Always, except for the moment he started talking about his job in almost too much detail when she prompted what are you?. Though, that time, he didn’t need your confirmation or denial to figure it out. All it took was a different knit to her eyebrows for him to go back into smaller than regular talking tone, from the bordering robotical lecturing mode.

“I wanna be a model when I grow up.”

“Oh, yeah?” you giggle breathily. Thankfully, she doesn’t take it as an offense like both of you thought she would. She just nods back at you with a proud smile. 

“And do you know what models do at their job?” Spencer inquires.

“They sit pretty in their pretty clothes for the people to watch,” the girl shrugs, speaking in the same way one would say the sky is blue. “Like her.”

He laughs when she points at you. “Being pretty isn’t all she does, though, Amelia. She’s not really a model.”

“She should be,” she whispers and you pretend you don’t hear it.

“Yeah, she should.”

He’s still careful even in the way he looks at her. Like she’d feel his cold hands if he said something too loud, too much. Every time she shows any sort of reluctance, he goes even softer — like he’d learned from uncountable hours of watching you do this over the years.

The very first time you met — interrogating an unsub’s daughter, before all of it happened. Before Mexico and Maeve and Gideon and Dilaudid and Emily. Before his jaw was screwed permanently clenched and his brain painted foggy. When he didn’t think of himself as a ticking time bomb and wasn’t scared of what he saw in the mirror.

Even when he didn’t feel this way about children as well as every other aspect of his life, he admired your work and yourself. So, it only makes sense (to him) that, when he sees himself as some sort of monster, you look like you’ve hung the moon and the stars even though the only thing you’ve ever been is yourself.

“And, uh, Amelia…” he mutters, pointing to the stuffed bunny in her hands, all love stains and frayed stitches, “Your friend over there. Does he have a name?”

She shakes her head, then spins it around to show the bow hidden on the back of its head, “She’s a girl.”

“Oh, yes, of course. I’m so sorry,” he laughs awkwardly.

“She doesn’t have a name.”

“Is there a reason for that, sweetie?” you ask as soon as there’s a pause from both of them.

He just watches with a grin while you work with her to find names for her teddy.

The markers were Spencer’s idea. He didn’t mean for it to be anything more than a way for her to express herself — you’d both been drawing animals and trees and numbers. Though, when her page became full of red scribbles and what seemed to be portraits of her parents, you realized she might have more to say.

“Who are those people, Amelia?”, he places a hand on her shoulder. She’s so focused on her tiny fingers wrapped around the marker, that she barely shows any reaction to him. When her bottom lip goes wobbly and her hands impossibly shakier, he takes away the paper with a “Okay, that’s enough.”

She fell asleep on his shoulder after half an hour of sobbing while telling what she remembered of the story.

He can’t help the warm feeling that floods his chest when you tell him, “You did a good job.” after getting as much as one can out of a kid who just witnessed her parents’ murder. His expression and words go against it, though. With a small shrug, he mumbles, “Oh, it was nothin–”

“No, don’t do that,” you cut him off, “You did really well.”

“You would’ve gotten her to say a lot more in a lot less time. It takes you an average of five minutes and for–”

“Shut up,” a giggle.

“Would you please stop cutting me off?”

“Not until you admit that you are actually still amazing with kids.”

He sighs. “How’s Mr. Winston?”

“No, no!” you slap his arm playfully, “You don’t get to change the subject by mocking me for my friends.”

“I’m not mocking you,” Spencer raises his arms in defense, a smile brightening his face. “I’m trying to get to know you and your friends better. I can’t do that anymore?”

“Not if you’re mean about it,” arms crossed over your chest and a half fake pout on your lips, you mutter.

“When was I mean?” he cocks his head to the side.

“I can tell from your tone of voice. It gets higher and weirder when you lie. You’re not the only one who knows about psychology here, buddy.”

He just shakes his head with a laugh. “I’m being serious. How are they doing?”

“Well, if you must know, they’re doing amazing.”

“I’m glad.”

It takes 43 (he counted) chimes of the clock on the wall for anyone to say something again. It’s him, in a whisper, “Do you really think she liked me?”

00:09 doctor reid genius guy

Amelia’s aunt just picked her up. She said her bunny was now named Mrs. Winston.

[nubiawrites]

chapter thirteen

Pairing: Aaron Pierre x Black Original Character

Warnings: Slow burn. 18+. Alcohol. mentions of Oral sex.

Summary: Spotted... Iriye and Aaron share a few moments out and about, leading to them being blindsided by some truths being revealed and others still in the dark.

Notes: So the following three chapters will be some of the funnest or heartbreaking ones. I'm excited to see where these two go. Also, if you haven't, I posted a poll for you guys toi answer because I have thoughts about the ending of this first part of the series. answer the poll here.

MASTERLIST

“Stop,” Iriye giggled as she felt Aaron kiss her cheek. “You’re distracting me during my turn.” She set up the pool stick in alignment with the cue ball. Her and Aaron had meant to head back to his place after work that day but they were both hungry. In the food search, they found a cute little dive bar and a few wings and wine. Later, Iriye talked Aaron into a few pool games.

“You can’t keep getting away with this,” Aaron joked as she nailed another of the balls into a pocket. 

“What can I say? I’m smooth,” Iriye stated. “At least my dad taught me one valuable thing,”

“You and him used to shoot pool?” Iriye nodded.

“He would pick me up after school and take me to this pizza place that had one. We would share a few slices, and he would show me how to play. If I could beat him, he would give me twenty dollars, and I was really good,” Iriye lined up another shot. “I could probably show you a few things,”

“Oh, I know you could,” Aaron grinned at her. She focused on her shot but seeing Aaron stretch, that dangerous sliver of skin peaking out of his waistband. She faltered a little and missed her shot.

“You are so rude,” Iriye chuckled before grabbing her wine glass for a sip. 

“Whatever do you mean, love?” Aaron said, lining up his shot and making it.

“Booo” Iriye chuckled. Aaron came over to her, his glasses on his face and his hat covering him up. He moved to her, pulling her close as he put the pool cue down.

“I don’t appreciate the booing,” Aaron leaned in closer, wrapping his arms around her.

“Well, I don’t appreciate the cheating,” Iriye pouted. Aaron kissed her softly.

“Just trying to keep up with you,” He stated, rocking them to the music playing in the bar. “So, you decided whether or not you’re gonna take the job with the TV show,”

Iriye was brought back to reality, groaning softly as she tucked her head against his chest.

“I’m still thinking about it. Technically, I have till the end of the week to get paperwork signed and such if I want it. Plus, I’m waiting on the Paradise Lost production schedule to be finalized,” Iriye stated.

“We should be getting it any day now,” Aaron pulled back to look at her.

“I know. I know. I gotta figure it out,” Iriye said. “Because technically in terms of my control, I can work on both things since the deal for the movie was in play before this show popped up,”

“But what about work-wise and emotionally… how do you feel?” Iriye looked into Aaron’s beautiful eyes, and a small smile appeared.

“Excited and nervous,” She explained. “This is a big moment for me. I’ve worked so hard for this.” 

“I know you have, and I’m excited for you. You deserve it, Iriye,” Aaron smiled. “Whatever you choose, we will make it work. I mean, say you split your time between here and my place in London during the film shoot,”

“Your place in London?” Iriye raised her brow at him. Aaron leaned back against the pool table.

“I was thinking-no. I was hoping you would want to stay with me in London. At my place,” Aaron mentioned as she let his hands slide to her ass, Iriye chuckling at the move.

“You want me to move in with you?” She asked. 

“Just for filming if you wanted to,” Aaron stated. “And depending on how that goes, we can discuss terms if you would like. You know, rules and such,”

“Aaron…” Iriye chuckled.

“Sorry. It’s too soon. I get if it is,” Iriye silenced him with a kiss. She pulled back and looked at him through her lashes. 

“I want to. Even if it’s just for filming, we can figure out afterward if we want to do something more permanent…” Iriye knew those words should have scared her, but it felt right.  And seeing the grin on Aaron’s face… it just made her more excited.

“I need to get you home so we can properly celebrate,” Aaron whispered against her cheek before kissing it. “.//I’m going to close out the tab,” he moved to kiss her hand before pushing her water closer to Iriye. She pouted, knowing she didn’t drink much, but he wanted her to be good enough to drive. 

Iriye watched him walk away, sipping the water so she could sober up. She was looking around, catching someone looking at her. They turned away, and Iriye shook it off, thinking nothing of it.

“Are you ready?” Aaron asked as he returned. After a moment, Iriye was re-racking the balls for the following players. 

“I am,” Iriye said, taking his hand in hers and heading out of the bar with him. He drove them back to her car at the lot, and then they returned to his place.

They made it to his place at the same time, Aaron guiding her inside his apartment, and Iriye falling into comfort in his space. She took her shoes off, dropping her bag on the counter. Before she could protest, Aaron picked her up.

“What are you doing?” Iriye giggled as Aaron carried her towards the bathroom.

“I need a shower, and so do you,” Aaron said, placing her on the counter. She giggled. She pulled her socks off, and Aaron came closer and helped her tie her hair up so it didn’t get wet. She pecked his lips as a thank you before helping him pull his shirt off.

“You are something,” Aaron stated as Iriye pressed her lips against his chest before nuzzling her head against him. 

“I can’t help it. You’re making me soft,” Iriye pecked his lips again and hummed. She let her hands trail over his arms, tracing the lines of his tattoos. She slipped off the counter, pressing against him before she passed by to head for the shower and turned it on.

When she turned back around, Aaron’s hands went to her top, unbuttoning it and slipping it off, leaving her in her bra.

“I like that you trust me enough to be that way around me,” Aaron admitted. Iriye hummed and kissed him once more before they stripped each other of their clothes. The room began to fog up, and Iriye pulled him into the shower with her.

Hands began to cleanse the other’s skin as Iriye and Aaron worked together to get cleaned off for the night.

Iriye moaned softly as Aaron chased the water that was rinsing down her neck with his lips. 

“You’re gonna leave a hickie,” Iriye giggled as she felt Aaron's mouth on her neck. His hands trailed up to her breast, cupping them, and she moaned, pressing back into him.

“It’ll be our little secret,” He teased her. Iriye let her hand drag down the side of his neck as Aaron sucked the skin into his mouth. She whimpered as he bit softly. Her lips looked for his and she turned to kiss him fully. 

His hands slid down her sides as she caged him against the shower wall. She kissed down his chest playfully, feeling his length jump against her skin. But she pulled away, giggling. 

“I’m not about to risk the hard work I achieved with my Dyson,” she joked, putting more soap on a washcloth and scrubbing her body. She saw how Aaron looked at her as she used the washcloth to run over her body as she got cleaned. “What?”

“Nothing… I just never thought I could get this lucky,” Aaron stated softly. Iriye paused, and a shy smile spread across her face. Iriye kissed him again.

After making out in the shower and the water started to run a little colder, Iriye and Aaron got into his bed. Iriye was tucked into his side as he ran his hand through her hair.

“You smell good,” Iriye whispered against Aaron’s chest, feeling her body relax. 

“You smell good, too. I think my body wash smells even better on you,” Aaron whispered. She giggled softly to herself, and she nuzzled closer to him. She felt her body drifting off as she knew she was safe with Aaron. “Iriye?”

“Hm,” Iriye hummed.

“Good night, love.” 

“Night. I love you,” Iriye breathed as she closed her eyes. 

Aaron shifted carefully, looking at Iriye. He was about to ask her if she meant her words, but she was too peaceful as she was asleep. He pushed some of her hair behind her ear and watched her till he fell asleep.

The next morning, Iriye woke up to the bed empty, and she ran her hand in search of Aaron. She got up and moved to the living room, where she saw him eating his oatmeal and hot water for breakfast.

“How did you sleep, love?” Aaron asked, her going behind him and pressing her body to his back as she hugged him.

“It was going great till you got up and left me to work out,” Iriye kissed his shirt through his back, not even minding the slight sweat. “You had a good workout?” 

“I did. I’m just glad I didn’t have to rush. I’m not filming till tonight, and tomorrow, I have that charity event the studio is making me go to,” Aaron explained, Iriye’s hands moving under his shirt and feeling his taut abs.

“You’re just booked and busy, Mister Pierre,” Iriye purred as she felt his warm skin. “Anyway, we can pencil in some time together,”

“I always have time for you, baby girl,” Aaron turned in her arms and kissed her. “Even when your breath is a little funky,”

“And on that note,” Iriye moved away, but Aaron pulled her back, kissing her deeply. “Morning,” She said as she pulled back.

Aaron lifted her to the counter. She saw her phone going off, and she moved to turn it over to silence it.

“So what are you doing till you have to go for your call time?” Iriye asked him, feeling his hands on the outside of her thighs. He pulled her closer.

“Hopefully kissing and cuddling you. Maybe even,” He wiggled his eyebrows at her. “Letting me taste you,”

“Mhm… one of those can be arranged,” Iriye stated. She felt her phone going off again and grabbed it just as Aaron kissed her. He began kissing down her neck and chest before making his way to her thighs. She pressed her power button to silence the call and hummed, letting herself fall into the kisses he always gave her. He was taking his time kissing between one leg and the other.

Just as Aaron was getting closer to the sweetness at the apex of her thighs, Iriye felt him stop. 

“Wait, what?” She tried to keep him, but Aaron stood up, checking his phone. “Just put it on silent.”

“I would but it’s Tamara. She’s calling me,” Aaron said. He handed her his phone and she answered it, trying to stop him from leaving his knees.

“Tam, now is a bad time,” She told her friend as she felt Aaron get up. Iriye landed a kiss on his chin. He stood between her legs, rubbing the outside of her thighs.

“Hey, you’re not getting any weird tags, right?” Tamara asked.

“Um, no. Should I be?” Iriye raised her eyebrow.

“Tell Aaron to check his Instagram,” Tamara stated. Iriye shrugged, putting his phone on speaker. 

“Check your Insta,” Iriye grabbed her own phone, and Aaron took his from hers. A few clicks and scrolls, Iriye watched as Aaron’s face grimaced. “What?”

“It’s you,” Aaron breathed. “Someone snapped a picture of us, together.” He handed the phone to her, and she looked through the gossip post Aaron was tagged in. She studied, seeing the details and trying to see what was said.

“I mean, I think the good thing is no one knows it’s you. It’s truly blurry. Someone’s old ass iPhone,” Tamara stated. Aaron rubbed his chin, and Iriye moved to her phone to find the post.

“Don’t look at the comments,” Aaron warned Iriye. She looked over the photo, going through all of them, and for the most part, she didn’t seem to be in direct view of the camera. She saw there was a video and she clicked on it. It was more focused on Aaron, having gotten her backside as they kissed.

“I mean… it could be worse. At least we weren’t too tipsy,” Iriye breathed. 

“Iriye,” Tam breathed. 

“We’ll call you back later, Tamara. Thank you,” Tamara said, and Aaron hung up. His attention turned fully back to Iriye. “You okay?”

“Do you think I should lock my account. You know. To take precautions,” Iriye asked, biting her lip nervously.

“I think it’s what you want to do. I’ll support whatever you want, but the most crucial part is that no one has connected that it’s you.” His hands went to her arms, giving them a comforting rub. 

“That’s important,” Iriye said. Aaron leaned forward and kissed her head, her eyes shutting. 

“I promise. Everything will be alright. I think our best defense is just to let people speculate,” Aaron stated. 

“Thank god I’m a nobody,” Iriye teased, and Aaron frowned, her chuckling. “I’m kidding. Fix ya face,” She cupped his chin and kissed him a few times. Aaron fell into the kiss, wrapping his arms around her. 

They pulled away, heads resting against one another. 

“You’re just… you’re special to me, Iriye,” Aaron whispered.

“You are to me, too,” Iriye said, kissing him again.

“Iriye?” She looked up at Aaron, his blue eyes peering deeply into her brown ones.

“Yes, baby,” Iriye noticed Aaron was fidgeting, his jaw clenching. “You’re not mad about this, right? I mean, I know it was my idea to grab a drink and all,”

“I’m not mad at all. I just don’t want this to be something that comes between us,” Aaron voiced.

“And it won’t,” Iriye slipped her hands to his cheeks. “It’s still us. Aaron and Iriye. Maybe the world knows about us. Maybe they don’t. But it’s none of their business. Just ours,” She said, tucking her head against his.

“Okay,” Aaron kissed her cheek and then her lips. She wrapped him up in a hug, rubbing his back.

“We should order food and stay in until you have to work. It’s a night shoot, so you’ll be tired,” Iriye stated. She slipped off the counter and pulled him back to bed.

Aaron rested one hand behind his head as he listened to an audiobook while Iriye sat up, choosing to get some work done on her laptop. It was pure comfort for them to be in each other’s presence.

Iriye checked her phone when she heard it ringing, not wanting to disturb Aaron as he relaxed. She got off the bed and saw it was her manager calling.

“Devery, what’s up?” Iriye answered.

“Are you crazy?” Devery said, his tone exasperated. You told me for years you wanted to go into television. Now it’s handed to you, which you deserve, and you turn down Samuel Arenas’ offer? “

Iriye bit her lip, eyeing Aaron, who looked so relaxed with his eyes closed and headphones in. She slipped out of the room to continue talking. 

“It was a good deal,” Iriye started.

“A great deal! With potential for growth to the producer role,” Devery stated. 

“It just didn’t feel like the right move as of right now. And the conflicts of shooting in the UK and then going back and forth to LA,” Iriye tried to make up an excuse.

“Samuel was willing to have you in virtually,” Devery sighed. “Was the money not enough because we can negotiate it for you. I know we can,”

“It was great, honestly. But my head is just somewhere else right now,” Iriye admitted. “I wanna see how things wind up with the film. I’m working on some new things, and I’m sure we can have me with my own show instead of working on someone else’s.” 

“I know we can. But um… I sent you an email from Samuel. There’s this fundraiser Warner Brothers is hosting on the lot. He’s invited the writing team to the show and has included you. I guess it’s an effort for you to change your mind or shut him down in person,” Devery stated.

“Can he do that?” Iriye asked.

“He got you on the list so he can,” Iriye rolled her eyes.

“He doesn’t give up,” 

“Neither do you,” Devery stated. “I’m going to follow your lead on this. But I haven’t sent the paperwork back declining the offer since you still have time to change your mind. I know you will make the best decision for yourself.”

“I promise, I am Devery. Thank you. I’ll go. Now, I gotta find a dress,” Iriye said.

“Happy hunting,” With that, Iriye hung up the phone and returned to the bedroom. She stood at the doorway for a moment, taking in Aaron. He seemed to be everything she didn’t know she needed.

Iriye crawled over him on the bed, his hands already settling for her hips as he peeked an eye open at her. His hands reached for her shirt, and she stopped him. 

“You okay?” He asked her as he looked into her eyes.

“I’m good,” She said. She leaned down to rest her head on his chest. “I just wanna lie here a bit before I have to head home,”

“Head home?” Aaron asked, taking his headphones out.

“I’m going to a charity event tomorrow… the same one you’ll be at,” Iriye stated. “I gotta find a dress and put myself together,”

“Oh. I guess I have a better reason now to go,” Aaron kissed her head, and her nerves died down a little. She was focused on the present, being in his arms for once. @wildwomanalereyia @teenage-aria @skvrpion @absentmindeddreamer @blackpinup22 @liv10002 @styleismyaddiction @jungwonsgfs @hooliemooliedonutshawp @hippiesandpeacesigns @blowmymbackout @justagirlwho-believes13 @caribbeangyalsworld @melovedorks @moihasarrived @ashanti-notthesinger @xx-mintyxx @iluvchrisbrown @ash-ketchumzzz @deijalee @pyramidlight @xosharieee @kaylaahisthebestest- @chaniceandrea @kimmivlixx @saveadanc @kaylalb @queenbritbrat @kceeee @naughtynolly-blog @myawesome56 @chainingxday @nononoks-blog @kinginwithbreezy-blog @apple123cg @jazziejax @lauren1000000 @withoutmusiclifewouldbflat @venusincleo @loveschrisbrown20 @brwnskingirlll @iamfredtina @cozyashhh @modelmemoirs @kimiasinterlude @rpayn22 @mscarter123 @lolola22267 @thesweetestdrug @valarghoulis @nyifly22 @zimsilandela @teheeboo @blveeeeeee @5starsirl @yassbishimvintage @23jammy @prettiegal @vadeadiugularis @gabbywontlose @pinkkycherrish @slashervalley @aqueenwasmadehere @lee-jennie @wuzzzgoood

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Well since we introduced blue & yellow Ena to sleep, how would DreamBBQ Ena react to other Ena sleeping since most Enas don’t sleep. What if we tried to introduce sleeping to her too (I’m thinking this takes place after that one post about blue & yellow Ena and DreamBBQ Ena meeting up yknow)

Yeah! I'm glad you liked those hcs!

Note: To differentiate between the two, Dream BBQ Ena is "ƎNA" and Webseries Ena is just "Ena"

...............

After the initially awkward meeting of the two ENAs (in which you had to calm down your partner after ƎNA's Meanie side made her cry), things finally start looking up. They're actually getting along better than you thought.

It finally sank in that they could relate to each other's experiences, finding common ground in dealing with entities who find them unlikeable and even "dangerous" to be around.

You become fast friends with ƎNA, who always makes time to visit you and Ena in-between assignments (or when her current task so-happens to be along the route where your residence is located).

It was inevitable that your blue/yellow girlfriend might feel insecure about being the "unemployed" ENA sometimes, wishing she was brash and confident like Meanie, or charismatic and calculated like Salesperson. But you always reassure her she's your first and only love in this world, and no other ENA could win your heart the way she did.

Before being introduced to sleep, she probably would've had a dozen breakdowns over the idea of you liking an ENA who seemed better put-together. But now that she had improved emotional regulation, she trusts your word and doesn't mind you hanging out with her.

Speaking of sleep, you mentioned it to ƎNA off hand one day, and she goes "Well, I never considered selling mattresses as a side-hustle, but-"

When you explain it more in-depth, you come to realize she hasn't experienced that for herself either....

'Damn, does ANY member of her species know what sleep is????'

So now, you'll also have to convince her that she could use it, but both sides find it to be a baffling concept. A disruption to her work routine that she initially rejects--although while Salesperson verbally lists every possible con until they become nonsensical strings of business jargon, Meanie simply says it would be a "waste of time" to sleep the hours away...although that's her only argument, and you could tell she's lying to herself.

You show her evidence and statistics that prove when humans get sufficient sleep, their productivity levels typically go up. And in case she was still skeptical and believed her species didn't benefit from it, you tell her that Ena is living proof that it's actually highly beneficial towards her emotional regulation.

Of course, ƎNA's emotions were more in-sync with each other, capable of getting her point across in a coherent manner. But you knew her job could be taxing especially with her share of rude entities and demeaning labor, so you plead for her to at least consider trying to sleep.

For a while, it seems like you've been talking to a brick wall.

But one night, she finally takes your advice when she suddenly appears at your residence, hungover and stuck as her humanesque self, which startles Ena as she wonders why she looked so much like you (minus the big gaping hole in her torso).

Before you could answer, ƎNA just... faceplants onto your bed without permission, and the orange projection of Meanie fizzles into reality to explain herself. "Sorry to barge in like this. I had the worst trip and my head still hurts. So I'm willing to give this "sleep" a try....how long till my free trial expires?"

"Oh! Uh...there's no time limit." You reassure her. "You can stay for as long as you want."

"I concur." Your girlfriend nods. "You just rest your pretty little head and don't worry about a thing!"

Meanie just nods and disappears, while her human self tries to fall asleep.

When Ena leaves to take a call from Moony, you realize ƎNA is now staring at you with her eyes wide open, even though you can clearly see the exhaustion in them.

It seems like she's not allowing herself to sleep. It's obvious that she wants to...yet feels like she needs to get back to her job and shouldn't be allowed this "luxury"-

"You know, it helps to close your eyes." You chuckle, sitting beside her and rubbing her back soothingly. "You're safe here. Don't worry about anything else right now, okay?"

Somehow, your gesture quiets the noise in her head, and she has this small smile of content on her face as her eyelids grow heavier.

She thanks you, although the words aren't any louder than a hoarse whisper. But you hear them and smile back.

Once you know for sure she's out cold, you put the blanket over her and leave the room, informing Ena that your mission was a success.

"Wonderful! One by one, you're teaching us the perks of sleeping! It's really, truly, undeniably---the nicest thing you've evewr done for us!! Why are you so nice???? How can you tolerwate us???" She hugs you tightly, giving you a kiss.

"I'm just doing what's right." You smile. "It's helped our relationship improve a lot, and I think it'll improve her job performance, too."

"True and true! But in regards to my question from earlier...."

"Oh, that's just....a glitch in her system. Like whenever you get drunk and have sharp teeth and horns growing out of you."

"....ah, that makes sense! Weird how she doesn't do that, though. Hmm..she's a strange one, indeed."

[sleepystarryskies]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ Nat isn’t quite sure how to deal with the cold, and when her favourite comfort isn’t available to her she feels younger than normal, Lottie has to figure out how to distract her from that fact and warm her up.

{ notes- this is my very first time writing a oneshot so i hope you enjoy it !! this is also a gift for @cryingatwindermerepeaks thank you for all your contributions towards the yellowjackets agere tag !! includes cg!lottie, regressor!nat, use of pacifiers, mentions of nats trauma relating to the cold.}

word count- 1.4k

“There you are.” Lottie’s voice manages to squeeze itself into the tiny space between the coatrack and the shelf where they keep the outdoor shoes. When Nat moves the arm of her fur coat, she can spot the light pink fabric of Lottie’s pyjama bottoms creasing as she kneels in front of her hiding spot.

The weather had been getting colder again, windows frosted over when they woke in the early mornings, and cardigans worn over their sleep shirts. Nat had never minded the winter before the crash- the cold was merely an inconvenience due to the trailer not being able to keep out the cold- but in Lottie’s house, the warmth from the heaters kept you feeling safe until you had to leave.

Things had been piling up over the past week, Nat had tripped on a walk- earning her a scraped knee and cold palms, Lottie had to leave and go out of town for three days which left her to return to her Mother’s trailer with her tail between her legs- even if she had been told she was welcomed in the Matthew’s home whilst Lottie was away, she had been too nervous to stay on her own in that big house.

Then the worst thing had happened: Nat had dropped Rusty the raccoon into the sink while trying to help by washing the dishes. Lottie wasn’t mad at her; she never was, but she had insisted that Rusty needed to get a wash before Nat could play with him again. That was fine, she had managed to convince herself, she could hold out on regressing until she got her stuffie back safe and sound- at least she thought so until one of the butlers had left the back door open and had chilled the entire house.

Lottie had known about Nat having to brace the cold every day during that first winter with Travis, and then when the second rolled around, she had been the one to climb the snowy mountain all on her own. She knew Nat struggled with the cold; usually on her bad days, she would stay curled up in her bed with Rusty in one arm and a hot water bottle in the other. But this time, Rusty wasn’t anywhere to be found.

“Can you scoot yourself out a little, please?” Nat couldn’t think of anything worse, her cheeks felt warm from the array of coats and jackets surrounding her, and she could smell Lottie’s perfume on the more furry coats. “Just so I can see your smiley face, bug.”

“S’ cold.” Lottie can hear the frown through her words, she’s quiet in a way that would tell Lottie that she had regressed if she hadn’t been able to tell by her hiding away in the mudroom. “Don’t want to go outside.”

“I know, baby.” Lottie tries to reason with her- it’s not the usual approach she would have to take, when Natalie regressed she never had to be bribed or bargained with, she always strived to please. “You don’t have to go outside, I promise, nobody’s going out there. It’s getting warmer now, but you’ve been hiding away for so long in there, I doubt you can feel it.”

Nat must shuffle, or adjust her arms, because Lottie now has a full view of her, sitting curled up with her knees to her chest, her thumb switching between getting chewed on and slipping into her mouth. Her heart breaks a little bit seeing just how small she looks- Nat rarely regresses this young, and it always strikes Lottie just how tiny she can look.

“‘M sorry.” Nat’s lip begins to wobble in a way that makes Lottie want to swaddle her up in countless layers of blankets and never let her go ever again. She sounds exhausted and scared more than anything else. “I’m just really cold.”

“You don’t have to be, everything’s alright, I promise you.” She sticks her arms into the midst of hanging clothes, letting Nat grab at her warm hand and rub it against her cheek like she does with the ear of her raccoon- though this only seems to refresh her memory.

“But-“ Nat shakes her head just before she begins to shuffle herself out, finally looking up at her caregiver with big, teary eyes. “But Rusty’s gone, can’t find him.”

“Oh baby, he’s in the dryer, remember?”

“All alone?” That thought alone seems to panic her, a whine escapes her pitifully as she releases Lottie’s hand to rub at the few tears that have fallen at the realisation she’s left her best friend all alone in the scary dryer.

“He won’t be in there for long.” She feels stuck; she needs Nat to come out from her hiding space without causing her more panic, but her stuffie’s only just been put into the dryer and will still be another fifteen minutes. “How about we go and check on Rusty? And if he isn’t quite dry enough, then Mama can do her magic trick to get him all warm and ready for you?”

Nat blinks at her for a moment, the mix of reassurances and Lottie referring to herself as ‘Mama’ clearly had thrown her into a deeper headspace than normal. But before Lottie can backtrack, Nat gives a nervous nod before beginning to shuffle towards her whilst taking her still extended hand.

“Good job, Sweetheart.” She sighs out, and once Nat manages to squeeze her way fully out, Lottie has no issues pulling Nat into her arms once she’s standing, holding the regressed girl against her front.

Nat lets out a small whine at the cold air inside the mud room, burying her face in the warm silk of Lottie’s shoulder until she feels the warm air from the rest of the house and is sure they aren’t going anywhere near the outdoors.

The rest of the house has all warmed up, the fireplaces all lit and flooding the house with both warmth and the comforting smell which takes her back to the first winter in the cabin- luckily, the smell has never triggered Natalie at all. The laundry room is warm enough to rid the goosebumps on Natalie’s skin, and she gives a contented sound into her Mama’s neck once the smell of cotton laundry powder fills her nose.

“Mama?”

Lottie hums back a reply, her hand rubbing her back in small circles as she sways on her feet. She huffs out a small laugh once she receives a small mumble into her neck. “Rusty?”

“Mama can do the trick if you like, but that means you have to get down so I can grab the hair dryer and get Rusty out.” She can hardly get her sentence out before Nat shakes her head, her hands coming up to grab at her shoulders. “Oh, I know, I know you wanna stay here, I've got you.”

It takes her a lot of effort, and a few close calls, but she manages to sit herself on the ground without dropping Nat, who hasn’t let her grip weaken since the idea of being put down escaped Lottie’s mouth. “Or we can just sit here and watch Rusty get all nice and warm from the dryer.”

Once she receives a small nod, and feels her baby's head turn to face the shaking machine which is holding her friend hostage. She leans back against a pile of towels before spotting Nat’s thumb tucked between her teeth.

“Hm, I think I see a thumb where it isn’t supposed to be.” She makes sure to keep her tone a playful one, poking a finger at Nat’s cheek until she gets a small smile. Lottie gently tugs on her hand until she releases her thumb, even if it earns her a pout. She reveals a pacifier from the pocket of her pyjama trousers, a dark blue one with glow-in-the-dark stars- a gift from Van, if she remembers correctly. She places a small kiss on Nat’s forehead as she timidly accepts the pacifier, so that she knows she isn’t looking at her whilst she gets used to it.

Lottie’s sure she’ll have a sore back later on, but she’ll take it if that means Natalie can settle until Rusty can be returned to her. She’s quick to fall into a dozy state, half awake as the soft thrumming of the dryer mixes with Lottie’s warm hand stroking her hair away from her face.

“You can sleep, cuddle-bug, Rusty will be all ready for you once you wake up again, I promise.” Nat falls asleep in her Mama's arms without fear.

[sharpth1ng]

Billy loomis? the biggest liar in the room. not just to other people, but to HIMSELF. like yeah, he’s manipulative, he’s violent, he’s a whole-ass serial killer, but at the end of the day? dude is just repressed beyond belief. like he is fighting for his LIFE trying not to be the person he actually is, and here’s why:

The whole murder spree? It wasn’t just about revenge. It wasn’t just about “punishing” Maureen. That was his excuse. The reality? He’s so deep in denial about himself that he’d rather tear apart everything around him than face the fact that he’s not who he says he is.

And that’s the thing—billy is a hypocrite in the most fascinating way. he hates his dad for cheating, for lying, for destroying his “perfect” family. but what does he do? cheat. lie. destroy. calls everyone fake but is constantly performing. acts like he doesn’t care what people think but goes to increasingly extreme lengths to make sure they only ever see what he wants them to see.

Sidney’s just his alibi, his “look at me, I’m normal” card. She’s safe to be with because she won’t push him into anything he doesn’t want to do. Meanwhile, Stu is the one Billy’s actually emotionally (and physically) drawn to. But instead of just being honest, breaking up with Sidney like a normal person, he keeps up the charade. Because he knew ending things with Sid would get people talking. In the ‘90s, people would’ve immediately been like “yo, why’d you dump your hot girlfriend?” and Billy couldn’t deal with that shit.

And that’s why he needed everything to look normal—not just for everyone else, but for Stu too. Having Sidney wasn’t just a cover for the world, it was his way of making sure Stu never started questioning him. If he had a girlfriend, there was nothing to ask. They were just messing around because Sid wouldn’t sleep with him, and that didn’t mean anything about him.

Stu, on the other hand, did care about Tatum in a way, but more as a friend. It wasn’t that he was with her just to keep up appearances, but it also wasn’t the same as what he had with Billy. Because, at the end of the day, Billy was always his priority.

And let’s talk about how manipulative Billy is. People always debate whether Stu was actually into this or if Billy just dragged him into it, and honestly—it’s both. Billy knew Stu had issues with his parents, knew he craved validation, knew he was vulnerable, and he used all of that. Like, do you really think it’s a coincidence Billy told Stu about his murder plan instead of handling it on his own? He wasn’t just picking someone randomly—he picked Stu because he knew he’d never say no.

What Billy didn’t expect was that all that shared trauma would lead to an emotional codependency. Spending this much time with Stu, getting that close to him, would make him start feeling things he wasn’t ready for. And he definitely didn’t plan on developing those feelings. But then again, Stu can read him like a book, so honestly, he probably knew before Billy even did.

And that’s the real tragedy of his character. He could’ve just broken up with Sidney and figured his shit out. He could’ve not murdered people. But he’s so deep in his own repression, his own anger, his own need to control everything, that he convinces himself this is the only way. And by the end? He’s fully unmasked. Not just as a killer, but as himself.

So yeah, Billy can say he doesn’t care, but everything he did screams he cared too much. He needed control—over Stu, over his image, over everything. He was never gonna just let things happen.

(sorry if this is a bit too long, i just really wanted to rant about it)

Honestly yeah, I agree with pretty much all of this, its very much the way I write these characters.

[frequentlykit]

Helping Hand Pt4 - Bang Chan

Bang Chan x fem!reader

Warnings: Kissing,

Genre: Fluff, Suggestive

WC: 3k

Summary:

A/N: i’m so sorry this took so long to come out, i’ve been having the worst time with this chapter (the others came so easily lol) but i hope you enjoy it [also, I know the last ss looks off, i downloaded it wrong and i don't feel like trying to fix it so apologies in advance]

- kit <3

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

What do you wear? This isn’t just dinner with friends, and the guy you like, this is dinner with a group of people you admire immensely. Do you go casual? Semi-casual? Dressy? You couldn’t decide whether overdressing or underdressing was worse.

When you got home you showered quickly, wanting to have enough time to pick an outfit. Your room was a messy of clothes as you tried on dresses and different pairs of jeans, dressy tops and baggy tops. Nothing fit. Just as you were about to tell Chris you got sick and couldn’t go, he texted.

You sigh with relief, tossing your phone on your bed and pulling out an outfit that you felt confident in but was also comfortable. Once you finished getting ready you threw your wallet and phone in your purse and headed out. You were thankful you didn’t have to deal with the bus since the address Chris had given you was only about ten minutes away from your apartment. You put in your headphones and jumped a little at the volume of the music that automatically started playing. Turning it down you realized it was a Stray Kids song, Venom to be specific. Was it weird to listen to Stray Kids on the way to meet… Stray Kids?

You shrugged, keeping the music playing as you walked to the restaurant. The streets weren’t crowded, which was a shock for this time in the evening, and as you got close you pulled out the headphones and put them in your purse. The last thing you wanted was for them to hear what you were listening to. You found the building Chris had described and made your way inside.

CHRIS POV

We had all decided to meet at my and Jeongin’s dorm before going to the restaurant, planning to only take two cars because parking often sucked. This turned out to be a mistake. I had been ready 20 minutes ago but everyone else seemed to be taking their sweet time. I groan, sitting up on the couch.

“Will you guys hurry up!?” I call into the apartment.

“God, you are an old man. Sitting up makes you groan?” Seungmin says, deadpan as he walks into the living room.

 I squint at the dark haired boy, “I was groaning at all of you, thank you.”

“Mhm, sure.” Seungmin nods.

“Cool your jets, Hyung. We’re coming.” Felix says, jumping on one foot as he tries to simultaneously put on his shoes and move towards the front door.

“Has anyone seen my green jacket?” Jeongin yells from down the hallway.

“It’s out here, Innie!” I call back, seeing it hanging on a hook by the front door.

Minho walks out into the living room, typing on his phone as he sits down next to Seungmin.

“Why are you all freaking out?” He says, looking up from his phone. “It’s just dinner.”

“We want to make a good impression!” Hyunjin chimes in from the kitchen.

Changbin walks out of the hallway, “Especially for a girl who has Channie-Hyung all smitten.”

“I am not-”

“Don’t even try, Hyung.” Jisung says, suddenly appearing next to me. “You were smiling the whole time you were texting her.”

“How do you know I was texting her?” I rolled my eyes, though I knew he was right.

“Cause you were smiling.” Seaming joins in.

“Is everyone ready?” I ask, standing up from the couch.

“Don’t change the subject!” Jisung stands up with me, “I know we all agreed to this but you’ve hardly told us anything about her.”

“You can find out whatever you want when you meet her.” I argue.

“Hyung!” Jisung whines.

“Jisung!” I whine back.

He rolls his eyes, walking over and flopping onto Minho’s lap. Minho doesn’t even flinch, having gone back to typing on his phone.

“You’re just worried about being late because Y/N is meeting us.” Felix grins.

“I’ll ask again, is everyone ready!?” I call, ignoring Felix.

“Coming, coming!” Hyunjin says, walking out of the kitchen.

Thankfully Jeongin wasn’t far behind and we finally made it into the cars.

YOUR POV

Once you step inside, you’re about to ask the hostess if a large group of boys had arrived yet but a loud call comes from the back left of the restaurant.

“Y/N!”

It’s multiple voices, and looking over you can see Felix, Jisung and Hyunjin waving you over. You take a breath, trying to calm your nerves before walking over to the booth they had all crammed into.

“Come sit!” Felix smiles, moving over and patting the end seat next to him.

You slide into the booth, setting your purse on the floor.

“Hi, I’m Y/N.” You say, smiling somewhat awkwardly at the group.

Chris was sitting across from you, Changbin next to him, then Seungmin, Jeongin, Hyunjin, Minho, Jisung and then Felix on your right.

“So this is the girl Channie-Hyung won’t-” Changbin is cut off as Chris nonchalantly coughs.

“I take it I don’t need to introduce you?” Chris smiles.

You smile, “I’m pretty familiar with all of you.”

“So how long have you been a fan?” Jisung asks, getting straight into it.

Seungmin punches his arm, “Don’t ask that!”

“What? I’m just curious! I’m not going to judge her based on the answer!”

You laugh, shaking your head, “I don’t mind answering.”

“Fine.” Seungmin huffs, though he seemed to be trying to hide his own curiosity.

“I became a fan around August 2023, I think. It was a little bit after Five-Star was released.”

“What caught your eye?” Felix asked, then seemed to regret it.

“Do you need to ask that question, Felix?”

He blushed hard, putting his head in his hands, “Fuck-”

You giggle, “I saw a few clips of you online and I was like ‘who is this’ and I got sucked in pretty quick after that?”

“Who’s your bias?” Changbin asks.

You shake your head, “No comment.”

“Aw, come on!” Jisung whines.

“No, I’m not going to start a war in this restaurant.”

“That’s fair.” Jeongin grins.

The night flew by with good food and great company, you were surprised by how casual you felt around all of them. Jisung was just as funny as you would’ve expected, Seungmin too, regularly roasting his members and even you when the moment called for it. You felt like you were catching up with old friends.

Once everyone had finished eating, the boys refused to let you contribute to the bill, though you tried to insist. You even debated going to find the waitress to give her your card but it was like they could read your mind because Felix held you back when Chris went to pay. Once Chris came back, Jeongin suggested walking to an ice cream spot he knew nearby to which everyone enthusiastically agreed to.

“So, how was tonight? Are we what you expected?” Chris grins as the two of you walk a few steps behind the others.

“Yes and no.” You shrug.

“Oh?”

“I mean, you’re about as chaotic and loud as you are on camera, probably more so. But your personalities are just a little different, which I wasn’t surprised by.”

“Different in a good way I hope.”

You nod, “Of course, it’s fun to see you guys being yourselves.”

“Does that mean you’d want to hang out again?”

“Would you want me to?”

Jisung suddenly spun around to face the two of you, walking backwards as Minho watched him concerned, “Are you kidding!? You are required to hang out with us again.”

“Oh am I?” You laugh.

“For sure!” Felix and Hyunjin chime in sync.

“Well then how could I refuse.”

The boys in front cheer, running off ahead and beating you and Chris to the ice cream shop. You shake your head, chuckling quietly.

“They adore you already, ya know?”

You look up at Chris.

“The kids.” He finishes.

“I don’t know about that, I just met them.”

“Doesn't take long, they’re a good judge of character.”

“Well I’m flattered, then.” You smile.

“Look,” Chris stops in front of the shop window, “I’m sure this is a lot, for so many reasons. And I don’t want to rush you but… I really like you, Y/N.”

“I like you too.” You smile.

He glances inside where the boys were distracted with trying ice cream flavors and picking toppings.

“I… I would kiss you right now but I don’t think I’d hear the end of it.” He says, looking sheepish.

“Raincheck?” You take his hand and squeeze it.

He smiles down at you, a look of admiration in his eyes, “Deal. And I promise it won’t take so long this time.”

“I’ll wait as long as you need.” You say before you start pulling him to the door, “Now come on, I want ice cream.”

He chuckles letting you pull him inside. Hyunjin, Seungmin, and Minho had already gotten their ice cream while the other boys were still deciding. You walk over to Felix and follow his eye to the two flavors he was choosing between.

“Strawberry or chocolate.” You comment.

He looks over at you, “I can’t pick.”

“I mean, I like both. How about you get one and I get the other and then if you like one better you can have it.”

His face lights up, “You’d do that?”

“Of course! I’m not picky and I’m happy to help you out.”

“Thanks, Y/N.” He smiles, before ordering one scoop of each.

While they scoop the cups you wander over to the three already eating.

“What’d you get?” You ask, leaning over to peek at Hyunjin’s.

He swallows the bite in his mouth, “Lemon. Wanna try?”

You nod and he offers his spoon. Taking the spoon into your mouth you hum, it was the perfect mix of sweet and tart on your tongue.

“Mmm, that’s good.”

“Right!” Hyunjin exclaims.

You look over at the other two, Seungmin had gotten chocolate with marshmallows on top and Minho had picked pistachio with some kind of syrup. Before you could ask, Felix came up next to you, handing you the cup with strawberry ice cream, you took it and smiled.

“Chocolate?”

He nods, taking a bite of the bitter sweet ice cream. Once everyone had gotten their cup, you all found a table to sit at together, though two out of nine had already finished their ice cream.

You took an empty seat next to Hyujin and Chris took the one next to you, having just beat Jisung to it who gave him a slightly dirty look before moving over to sit by Minho. Conversations they’d been having in pairs quickly combined into one loud debate which you enjoyed just observing. You were jerked slightly and looking to your side you realized Chris had grabbed onto the leg of your chair and was pulling you closer to him until your thighs touched. No one had noticed despite the sound of the chair against the floor, or at least it wasn’t obvious.

“Can I help you?” You grin.

“I mean you can,” He smirks back, “Just not here.”

“Oh yeah? Where did you have in mind?”

“Can I take you out… later?” He asks suddenly.

“Does it have to be later?”

“I mean it’s…” He glances at his phone, “Ten so…”

“And? The night is young, baby.”

He seemed to sit up straighter at the pet name, blushing furiously.

“I… uh,” He was panicking a little.

You giggle, “Do you want to come back to my apartment?”

“Y-yeah, I mean-”

“I’m not expecting anything,” You say quickly, “Think of it like a… pre-date.”

“Is that not what this was?”

You shrug, “It’s not the same with everyone here.”

He glances towards the group, still engrossed in their debate, “True.”

“So?”

“Yeah, I’ll come back with you.”

“Come back where?” Jisung interjects.

You look over and their attention is suddenly on the pair of you.

“Uh-” Chris starts.

“He wanted to walk me back to my apartment.” You explain with an innocent smile.

“Oh did he now?” Felix grins, looking over at Chris.

“Nothing planned after that, just dropping you off?” Jisung adds.

The two of you were the picture of innocence as the group scanned you over.

“Alright… but you’d better treat her right, mister.” Jisung says, pointing a finger at Chris.

He smiled, humoring him, “Of course.”

“I mean it, you hurt her and we’ll kill you.” Hyunjin adds.

“Shouldn’t they be giving me this talk?” You mutter towards Chris.

“They’re attached now, get used to it.” He grins at you.

• • •

You unlocked your door and stepped aside, letting Chris walk in first.

“Cute.” He says, looking around.

You scanned the room, thankful it was cleaner than usual. Then your eyes landed on our bookshelf, more specifically the shelf where you displayed your K-pop albums. Your eyes widened in horror and you tried to think of a way to cover them or keep him out of the living room. I mean, he knew you were a fan but the idea of having an idol see your collection felt humiliating.

“Uh, do you want something to drink?” You ask, attempting to subtly lead him into the kitchen.

“Sure.” He smiles, oblivious.

“Water or…”

“Water is fine.”

You pour each of you a cup and take a seat next to him at the bar.

“You said you moved to Seoul… a year ago, right?” He asks, taking a sip.

You nod, “Yeah, this is the apartment my company provided me.”

“It’s nice.”

“I’ve been pretty happy with it, though I do have a few… odd neighbors.”

“Really? Like who?”

You went on to explain the odd interaction you’d had with an upstairs neighbor who tore you a new one for being too loud when it was the person next to you who had been blasting music and your neighbor from down the street who seemed to take out large trash bags at weird times in the day and night.

As you finish, you set both of your glasses to the side as Chris gets up and before you can think to say anything he starts looking around and walking towards the living room. His eyes fall on your bookshelf.

“What do we have here?” He grins, teasingly.

You groan, reluctantly following him into the living room. He crouches in front of the bookshelf, carefully admiring the collection of albums and merch displayed there.

As you sit on the couch, trying to pretend you don't exist you hear Chris gasp. You can’t help but look up as he turns back to you, hand clutches over his heart dramatically.

“You have ATEEZ and ENHYPEN albums here!”

“...yes?” You say, unsure of where this was going.

“And here I thought you were loyal to Stray Kids.” He huffs, turning back to the shelf.

You stare at the back of his head for a moment, trying to process what he was saying before you burst out laughing. He picks up a mini Bbokari plush, ignoring your outburst as he inspect the rest of the shelf.

“Chris-” You giggle, trying to calm down.

“What!?” He says, standing up and walking over towards the couch. “I am offended!”

“Feeling jealous?” You say, still laughing.

“Don’t mock me! This is a serious offence!” He sits down next to you, his expression admittedly very serious.

“I’m terribly sorry, Bang Chan. How ever will I make up for this egregious crime?” You look over at him, still giggling a little.

“I don’t know if you can.”

“There must be something I can do.” You give him a cheeky smile.

“Tell me I’m the only idol you would go out with like this.” He says, completely stoic.

“I swear on my life, Bang Chan. You are the only idol I have any interest in going out with.”

“Even Seonghwa or Heeseung?”

“Even them.”

“Even San?”

“Yes, him too.”

“Even Hyunjin?”

“Chris!”

“What? You’ve seen him!”

“I have, not my type.”

“What is your type?”

“Hmm,” you think for a second, “Kind, funny, intelligent, strong,” you move a little closer, turning to face him, “loves music, dark hair, brown eyes,” closer, “selfless, compassionate…” you glance down at his lips, your faces inches apart, “a good kisser…”

“Sounds familiar-” He murmurs before closing the gap between you.

It was like falling back into a familiar routine, despite only sharing one kiss previously, and this one was far more intense and meaningful. It was as though he was trying to apologize, for making you wait, for being unsure, for whatever else he had been overthinking before now. And you were able to put his uncertainties to rest, returning his passion as you slide your leg over his lap and tangle your hands in his hair.

He groans into the kiss, one hand resting on your hip, the other cupping your jaw. His tongue tentatively ran along her lower lip, slow, testing. You responded by parting your lips, allowing his tongue to slip inside. You could feel the combined thud of your hearts as your bodies pressed against each other, as though you were magnetic.

When you both finally pulled apart, more for breath than an actual desire to stop. You panted quietly, feeling his breath mixing with yours.

“I’m sorry for taking so long…” he muttered, eyes looking down at his lap.

You cup his cheeks, tilting his head up so his eyes are forced to meet yours, “That… was more than worth the wait.”

He smiles, huffing a laugh, “Good.”

“You know what you said, before, about the kids not letting you live it down if you kissed me earlier?”

He nods.

“I hope you realize that they will never let you live down the fact that you are going out with a fan.”

“Oh, are we going out now?”

“You asked me out earlier, you ass!” You smack his arm playfully, then are suddenly reminded that you are still sitting in his lap.

You start to move but he grips your hips, “Don’t… please.”

You stop, looking up at him.

Though his ears were flush red, he spoke firmly, “If you think that’s all you’re getting tonight, you are sorely mistaken.”

And so you were.

A/N: hope this was worth the wait, I don't think I'll add anymore full parts to this series (maybe a bonus one wink wink) so I hope you enjoyed! please like and reblog and feel free to write me a suggestion or send me something from my prompt list <3

TAGLIST: @akindaflora @lezleeferguson-120 @chasinghxran @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @idiotmaterial @beppybeesnuggets @queenofdumbfuckery @143straykidsot8 @breakmeoff

[ingravinoveritas]

Speaking as a trans uk person who grew up under section 28 and is just a few years younger than David, that reaction on the Assembly last night is the most ‘I think in another time, I wouldn’t have been entirely cis’ response I’ve ever seen. I’ve got a couple of friends of similar age and similar ‘I’m cis because I wasn’t able to be anything else’ mindset and just… I hope he’s happy, and I hope his loved ones give him the support around this whatever he decides and feels.

Oh, Anon. I'm sorry, I am so behind in answering Anons and trying to catch up now. But I saw this message when you sent it in and first of all, big hugs to you (if you are okay with that).

Secondly, though, I can't thank you enough for writing in and sharing this, as being a contemporary of David's and trans, your perspective is absolutely invaluable and carries so much weight. I am a non-trans, non-UK person, but I had a similar reaction to what David said on The Assembly, and from the DMs I've gotten and conversations that have happened since it aired, it seems others have, too.

I have more thoughts on this related to what was said on the episode of David's podcast that Georgia hosted, so I am going to try and save a lot of those thoughts for another post in response to the numerous Anons I have gotten about that. But for me, what stands out are two particular things.

One is that this is now the second time that David has specifically mentioned his experiences with Section 28 and homophobia growing up while also getting choked up/emotional about it. In this instance, he was specifically asked what made him start supporting the trans community...and this is what he said. He did not at all mention his nonbinary child--which of course doesn't mean that Wilf isn't part of the reason--but what David goes to directly in his answer is homophobia and Section 28.

What makes this so significant is that he spoke of it not as someone who saw it from the outside, but who had experienced it from within--something I also noticed in his podcast interview with Russell T. Davies, where RTD talks about discovering he was gay and the process of navigating his sexuality and David essentially "fills in the blanks" as RTD is talking, as if he'd gone through it himself.

Seeing David get so emotional--where it wells up in you and fills your chest and something in the core of you tightens automatically no matter how hard you try to stop it--is something I felt like I recognized. Something that comes from a place of trauma, where you don't just remember a certain event or incident, but relive everything you felt when it was happening. And it breaks my heart to think that he has been through things like that and may still be dealing with them now.

I think your comment about "in another time" echoes into this, because that's been another recurring theme in these conversations. It's this idea that David seems to have that his children and the younger generation on the whole can be whoever they want to be...but he can't. As if somehow it's too late for him to change, to be who he wants to be.

In David's recent appearance on Lorraine, she gushed over how much she loves David and Michael together and how people think they are married, and ends by saying, "In another world." That she (and so many others) can plainly see what's between them and that in another world, Michael and David would be together.

We all only get this one life. This one shot at being here, at being alive long enough to find what makes us happy and hold on like hell to it.

...So why not in this time? Why not in this world?

You're never too old to figure out who you are, or to embrace it. To realize that safety is not the same thing as happiness. To let go of being afraid, to finally come out of survival mode and have the chance to just live in the world.

Shouldn't David get to have that same chance?

A few weeks ago, I noticed some fans on Twitter/X talking about TERF/GCs "accusing" David of being trans. These fans immediately leapt to David's defense: "What? People actually think David is trans?" and "No way! David is NOT trans." And while well-meaning, these responses pained me because of the underlying implication that being trans is something that needs to be "defended against" in the first place.

Because it’s not.

Because it shouldn't be.

Because the correct and only answer to "Why do people think David is trans?" is, "If David is trans (or nonbinary, or genderfluid), why would it matter?"

So thank you again for this, Anon. I hope people will really take in the words you've said and understand why you are saying them. And I hope, as you do, that David is truly, genuinely happy with whatever he feels and decides, regardless of what anyone else thinks.

[thejohnlockedfemboy]

Whats an agere? Sorry to ask if this is intrusive!

no worries! It means “age regressor.”

Age regression ( shortened to agere or age re ) is an ENTIRELY SFW coping mechanism. It is NOT ageplay or abdl/ddlg/ddlb ( not that I’m kink shaming, but it’s very, very different )

Age regression can be classified as going into a younger headspace as a result of stress, trauma, or simply because you want to. Some people regress to “middle space” which is between 9-12ish. Others regress to younger children, between 4-8, and others have toddlerspace, which is about 2-3, and babyspace is between 0-1.

Age regressors’ ( also called littles, but that word has been repurposed in kink communities so just be wary of that ) behavior can look very different from person to person. Some people might color or play with stuffed animals, baby-talk, babble, take lots of naps, or take a bubble bath or drink milk. Some regressors, like me, enjoy pacifiers and baby bottles because it helps us to “feel little.”

Headspace also varies from person to person, but usually it feels a bit fuzzy, be that positive or negative. It can feel like a release of tension, just letting all of your big thoughts and emotions go to relax and remember what it felt like to be a kid again. Some people who had bad childhoods especially use this to form new memories over bad or nonexistent memories from childhood.

Age regression is a tool recommended by many therapists, and some therapists even specialize in it because of how effective it can be in helping recognize and move on from childhood trauma.

Some regressors have “caregivers,” which can be a trusted friend, family member, or partner who cares for them when they are in littlespace. That can take the form of cuddling, helping to deal with emotions, reminding the regressor to eat/drink water, things like that :)

Regression can also enclose pet regression, which IS NOT PETPLAY. It just means regular regression, but instead, you feel like an animal! This commonly occurs in therians/alterhumans and the like, but you don’t have to be that to pet regress. The most common pet regression types are puppy, kitty, bunny, ect.

there’s a ton of information on the #sfw agere, #sfw petre, and #sfw regression tags if you’re interested! This was just a brief explanation, hope this helped!

[nats-w1fe]

Worse or Even Worse: 5

Natalie Scatorccio x Reader/Shauna Shipman x Reader

Summary: Losing Jackie was the hardest thing you’ve had to deal with in the wilderness so far, but now with Natalie and Shauna adding onto that pressure and pain, you’re starting to feel more and more overwhelmed.

Word count: 4.4k

Warnings: Cannibalism, major character death, abuse, miscarriage, birth, blood, gore, angst, arguing

A/n: So I can’t find any of the other scripts yet so I’m just going to hope that this is accurate still to the plot! Sorry if it’s not. Also I’m still writing drabbles so please give requests!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That night everyone went to bed without another word. You slept alone in the attic. Everyone avoided you. They couldn’t bring themselves to look you in the eye now that they knew some of the things Shauna was doing to you. The things they didn’t notice. The clear signs they missed.

The morning sun shining through the window woke you up. Something was different this morning though. It was darker than usual. You furrowed your brows and sat up. You looked at the glass, it was frosted over. You hummed and walked to the window. You wiped the frost off and looked out the window.

All of a sudden, your heart dropped.

“No..” you whispered. You looked at Jackie. She was still out there. Covered in snow. Without another thought you sprinted down the steps, ignoring the searing pain your leg brought you.

“Jackie!” you called out as you opened the door, the other girls all woke up. Shauna’s eyes widened as she saw the snow. Everyone rushed out too but you went straight to Jackie’s body.

“No no no! Jackie!” you wiped the snow off her face and you knew she was gone. She was literally blue. You let out a wail of unimaginable grief, hugging Jackie’s body close to you. “Jackie! Wake up! Please!” you choked out sobs, you couldn’t tell if you were shaking from either the cold or from how upset you were. But that didn’t matter.

Shauna came up behind you, quickly trying to pull you away from Jackie’s body. Till all of a sudden, a few of the others shoved Shauna back,

“Stay the fuck away from her Shauna” Van spat to her. Taissa came to your side and wrapped a blanket around you,

“Y/n…come on lets go inside” she said to you in a calming, hushed tone. You shook your head, sniffling.

“No I can’t leave her” you cried, she pulled you into a hug and you leaned into her, keeping your arms wrapped around Jackie still.

Shauna shoved Lottie away as she tried to hold her back,

“Get the fuck off of me, she’s my girlfriend, if I wanna comfort her then I will” she scoffed. Natalie looked at her in disgust,

“You think after everything you did to her we’ll ever let you near her again?” she asked. Shauna couldn’t think of what to say,

“Fuck off Natalie” she went to you anyways but Lottie then stood in front of her.

“You’re disturbing the wilderness Shauna…” she said, shoving her once again. “This isn’t what it wants, so back off” nobody questioned it. if it got Shauna to back off, even just for today, then it worked. Shauna scoffed and stormed off without another word. You knew though, you weren’t free from her yet.

~

It had been a few months since Jackie had died. You hadn’t been able to bury her body because the ground had frozen over, so instead she was kept In the meat shed. The others had started getting increasingly more involved in the wilderness, not Shauna though. She managed to stay with you, everyone tried to argue but she always found a way. Part of you wanted to join in with the others but Shauna never let you.

You sat on the floor of the meat shed, looking at Jackie’s body. You missed her, you missed her more than anything. You wished you went to her before it snowed and brought her inside. You wished you didn’t even let her leave in the first place. But you did. Because you were too scared of pissing off Shauna.

You sniffled and wiped your nose with your sleeve,

“Jackie…” you whispered, holding out hope that maybe, just maybe, she would respond. The silence only made you cry more. The door of the shed then suddenly opened, you looked and saw Natalie walk in.

“Hey Y/n” she said quietly. She sat down on the floor, next to you. There was silence for a moment, “Um…I’m really sorry about Jackie, she didn’t-“ you cut her off by practically throwing yourself at her, sobbing into her shirt. She was surprised by the sudden movement but held you close.

“Hey hey…it’s okay, I’m here Y/n” she comforted you, gently rubbing your back.

“She’s gone…she’s really gone, and its all my fault” you cried. Her brows furrowed and she pulled away to meet your gaze,

“What? No Y/n, this isn’t your fault, nothing that has happened to you out here has been your fault, not losing Jackie, not Shauna and not- and not what I did to you” her voice suddenly went quiet as she spoke. You paused and sat up,

“Do you think Jackie was mad at me when she was out there? Before she died”

“I…we both know Jackie was always one to hold grudges, but I don’t think she was Y/n. when she found out about the stuff in Shauna’s journal she came straight to me, she was so mad.” She explained, “I think she understood how much of a hold Shauna had-…has on you” you felt a weight lift off of your shoulders but still, your pain still lingered,

“Then why did she say that before she left, she said ‘I don’t even know who you are anymore’?” you didn’t know why you thought Natalie would know, but you had to ask anyway.

“She was mad, I think she just wasn’t thinking about what she was really saying” she explained, she then looked down to your hands, “I’m so sorry Y/n”

It took you a while to process what she was even saying as you stared at the floor. You then suddenly felt a chill run down your spine, you turned to where Jackie’s lifeless body sat, but she wasn’t blue like she was a minute ago and she wasn’t still either. She was just as alive as she was the day she was born.

“Is she calling me stupid or something? Saying I don’t think before I speak” and her voice came in as clear as day. You frantically shook your head,

“That’s not what she’s saying, Jackie” you told her. You completely forgot about Natalie sitting right opposite you.

“Y/n?” Natalie questioned. You looked at her, “Who- are you talking to um, Jackie’s body?” she asked you, furrowing her brows.

“What? No she’s-“ you looked back to Jackie, she was blue again, her eyes empty once more. You stared at her body, thoughts running through your mind. You didn’t speak, only stared into the space. Natalie got up after a moment,

“I’ll um…” she didn’t finish her sentence before walking out of the meat shed. You looked at her then back to Jackie,

“Why couldn’t she see you?” you asked her, staring at her lifeless corpse which didn’t seem so lifeless to you,

“How am I supposed to know, I’m dead” Jackie joked, laughing at her own joke. You frowned and got up, picking up your crutches,

“That’s not funny Jackie” you walked to the door which Natalie had left open and walked out, leaving the shed.

Just as you shut the door behind you, you were greeted by Taissa, Van and Natalie. Their faces showed sympathy but you could tell they were about to tell you something you didn’t like. You noticed the rest of the group standing on the porch, watching from afar.

Shifting uneasily, you asked,

“Uh…you good?” they shared a look before Taissa sighed and finally stepped forward,

“Y/n, we’ve been thinking and um, we think its best if you’re not spending so much time with Jackie’s body anymore…I think its time to let go” she said, speaking calmly to try and soothe you. your brows knitted together and you immediately shook your head,

“What? No…no I don’t- its not like we can get rid of her body anyway” you told them, folding your arms over your chest.

“Maybe” Van started, standing closer to you, “Maybe its best we….burn her body?” she asked, you felt the familiar burn of the tears fill your eyes once again. you glanced back to the meat shed where you knew Jackie’s body laid, just behind the thin wooden walls.

Maybe it was best. You looked at Natalie. Then to Shauna who stood on the porch, staring at you with her arms crossed. You sighed and gave a small nod,

“Okay” was all you said, you walked off to the cabin, going through the door. Shauna quickly followed suit.

You sat down in the attic, staring out the window as you watched the girls beginning to build a fire. You didn’t tear your eyes from the window when you heard someone coming up the steps. Shauna gripped your arm, forcing you to look at her.

“Why were you talking to Natalie?” she asked you, her once soft brown eyes now filled with a jealous rage. You’d grown so used to seeing that look now though that you thought you’d be used to it, but it still made a chill run down your spine.

You gave her a small shrug, sinking into yourself,

“She came in the meat shed and we just talked about Jackie” you told her, she scanned your eyes as if searching for a lie,

“So you just hung out with your ex who used you and your sisters dead body, your such a freak” she spat, as if she hadn’t been spending time in the meat shed with Jackie’s body too. You frowned up at her,

“I’m not a freak for wanting to be with my sister, also I can’t control where Natalie is all the time!” you stupidly raised your voice at her and that only fuelled her anger more.

She brought her hand up, about to slap you. You squeezed your eyes shut, flinching away. But nothing happened, you opened your eyes after a few seconds and looked at her. Shauna stared out of the window; her hand still raised. You could see the pain in her eyes.

Wriggling out of her grasp, you turned your body to look too. Van was carrying Jackie’s body. Your heart ached at the sight and you internally prayed that this was all a dream, that you’d wake up in the morning at home to the smell of pancakes, to Jackie teasing you for your outfit choices, to Natalie picking you up to walk to school together- no not Natalie. Shauna, how could you think of Natalie like that when you were literally dating Shauna. You shook the thought away and continued watching.

Van gently laid Jackie’s corpse down on a pile of wood. You had to go out there, to be there when they burnt her body. She was your sister and you needed to be able to let go. You carefully stood up, but Shauna’s firm grasp returned to your shoulder. You looked at her, your voice coming out way smaller than you intended,

“I want to go”

“Tough, you’re staying here, you can watch from the window” Shauna said, shoving you back down to the ground. You winced and watched Shauna as she sat down and picked up her journal, opening it onto a fresh page. You wondered to yourself why she wouldn’t want to be there too; Jackie was her best friend after all. Then a new question sprang to mind.

“Shauna…was Jackie telling the truth, about your journal?” you asked, finally getting that question that had been lingering on your mind ever since Jackie first brought it up. She stayed quiet, you used the wall as a support to bring yourself to your feet. “Shauna…answer me”, sounding more like Jackie than you ever intended.

Shauna’s head snapped to you and the blaze of anger in her eyes made your heart race in fear. You swallowed nervously, she scoffed at the sight and stood up,

“Since when did you have the confidence to talk to me like that? Hm? Big sisters dead and now you have to defend yourself?” she taunted you, walking closer. Tears filled your eyes and you looked away, muttering slightly,

“You’re an asshole, you know that?” You didn’t know where this confidence was coming from, you were just so mad. Yet, she didn’t answer. Instead, she kicked the back of your injured leg, you cried out in pain, dropping to the floor with a small thud. You clutched your leg, muttering curses under your breath,

“If your not careful, you can fucking join your sister you little bitch” she spat at you. you looked at her in genuine shock at her words. She opened her mouth, most likely about to spit another insult at you or threat.

Then all of a sudden, a loud thud came from outside. Shauna’s brows furrowed. She turned to look out the window, her eyes scanning the scene. The suddenly she quickly took off down the stairs. You whined In pain as you stood up, grabbing your crutches and trying your best to go after her.

You finally got down and went out the front door. Everyone stood on the porch, staring at Jackie’s body. You looked too and your heart dropped at the sight, snow had fallen over her, putting the fire out yet cooking her body perfectly to cause a delicious smell of barbecue, it made you feel sick yet at the same time, it made you hungry. None of you had eaten in so long. You were starving. You glanced at a few of the others, they were all already looking at you. As if asking for permission. You hesitated before giving a small nod. That was all they needed. That was all anyone needed.

~

You sat in the now empty meat shed, staring at corner where Jackie’s frozen body once sat. Just as you were about to speak into the silence, you were interrupted. The door opened. Turning your head, you saw Natalie standing in the doorway awkwardly,

“Hey, um I’m going to the crash site if you wanna come?” she asked you, you shook your head and looked back to the corner,

“No” you kept your response blunt and as short as you could.

“Its to bury Jackie’s…remains” she told you, sitting down next to you. You glanced at her, then to the bag she held. “Shauna’s asleep, she wont know” she tried to reason but you still seemed unsure, “Come on Y/n, she was your sister, don’t let your fear of Shauna get in the way of that” she tried to reason, she knew it would be hard for you to decide but she still had to try to convince you.

You sighed and looked at the bag once more, then to her,

“Okay, fine” you finally gave in, Natalie tried to mask how her face lit up but failed miserably, “But we cant be long” you insisted, Natalie handed your crutches to you and helped you stand up. She quickly nodded and stood too, holding the door open for you. You stepped out and together, the two of you made your way to the crash site.

The walk was mostly silent, other than the occasional comment about the weather or whatever small talk Natalie could conjure up. You weren’t too keen on starting a conversation with her, you still had a grudge against her and how could you not. She broke your heart. When you finally arrived at the crash site you were taken aback slightly, you didn’t remember it being so terrible. You looked over at the graves that were dug for those who didn’t survive the crash.

“We probably wont be able to bury her” you said, catching Natalie’s attention. She looked at you then at the ground. She kicked some of the snow out the way and prodded at the dirt with her boot. It was still rock solid.

“What do you wanna do with her then?” she asked you. You went over to her, hesitantly taking the bag. It was lighter than you thought it’d be. “Careful” she told you as you balanced holding the bag and your crutches.

You made your way to the plane, going inside. The memories of the crash flashed through your mind, everyone’s screams, your leg being trapped and Natalie leaving you to save Lottie instead. Your jaw clenched and you went over to where you remembered Jackie sat. You placed the bag down on her seat, placing your hand on top of the bag.

“I’m sorry Jackie” you whispered, “I’m so sorry…”

“It wasn’t your fault” Natalie told you as she walked over, running her hand over the backs of the seats as she passed them. You ignored her comment though. “Y/n, seriously, it wasn’t your fault. If anything it was Shauna-“

“Don’t” you stopped her. Her brows furrowed, you got up and looked at the blonde, “Don’t try to comfort me with bullshit like that, sure it was Shauna’s fault, but it was my fault too” Natalie’s eyes widened slightly, not expecting this, “It was up to me whether she stayed, Shauna gave me that choice and I said nothing. Jackie is dead because of me!” you raised your voice to her and regretted it almost instantly when you saw that pained look in her eyes. She hated when people yelled at her, and you knew that more than anyone.

“Y/n, Shauna shouldn’t of-“ you cut her off once again.

“Stop it! Stop trying to give me advice on my relationship! You of all people can’t!” You yelled, “You used me! You made me fall so fucking hard for you, just for you to use me! Near the end of our relationship you made me feel like a I was some annoying younger sibling following you around all the time. I have felt that my entire fucking life but I never expected you to treat me like a damn burden” it felt good to get this all of your chest, and she made no move to stop you, “You left me on that fucking plane” tears filled your eyes and your voice cracked as you spoke, “You didn’t even try to save me! You left me…for Lottie”

She stepped slightly closer to you as you spoke,

“Y/n…I’m really sorry, I truly am I didn’t-“ you held up your hand, cutting her off straight away. Her jaw snapped shut,

“Don’t, just, don’t…I’m with Shauna now, I don’t need you…thanks for trying to care, but its too little too late” you told her, storming out of the plane.

The walk back was entirely silent. You avoided her at all cost, walking ahead and speeding up whenever she got too close. You still had tears lingering in your eyes and you knew your face was stained red from crying. As you approached the cabin, Shauna stood on the porch. The moment she saw you she quickly walked over,

“Where the fuck were you?” she asked, speaking quietly so the others wouldn’t hear but still managing to raise her voice slightly.

You choked out a sob and threw your arms around her in a tight hug, dropping your crutches. She was taken aback and stood there awkwardly for a moment; her eyes wide. But as she saw Natalie walking over, not too far behind she got a general idea what happened. She reminded herself to get mad at you about hanging out with Natalie later. For now, she wanted to hold you.

“Let’s go inside baby, its cold” she said quietly to you.

You gave a small nod and she picked up your crutches for you, putting them in your hands. Her sudden display of comfort warmed your heart and actually made you feel slightly better. She helped you inside and together, the two of you sat opposite the fireplace. You were laid down with your head in her lap and her running her fingers soothingly through your hair.

Night had begin to fall and one by one everyone started to go to sleep, till it was just you and Shauna. Taissa and Van appeared to have gone out for a late-night walk in the snow, something about Tai appeared strange but you decided to ignore it.

“Why were you with Natalie?” Shauna whispered to you after almost an hour of silence. You opened your eyes and turned your head away from the orange glow of the flames to face Shauna. You could tell by her face that she didn’t look too mad, of course there was that tinge of jealousy as usual but nothing too serious just genuine curiosity.

“We were taking Jackie’s bones to the crash site” you told her, pausing before continuing, “sorry, I know you don’t like it when I talk to her, but I just…I wanted to say a final goodbye to Jackie” you explained.

She surprisingly seemed quite pleased with your apology and gave a small nod,

“You okay?” she asked you, running her hand through your hair again. You closed your eyes, savouring that comforting feeling before finally answering,

“Yeah, well kinda…I will be” you finally said. she hummed and was about to speak again till the door suddenly opened loudly.

The sound woke everyone up as they all sat up and looked to the door to see Van walking in with Tai, your brows furrowed curiously then raised when you saw Javi coming in behind them. He’d been gone for weeks now; you were so worried. You quickly stood up,

“Shit, Javi..”

He stumbled to you, hugging you tightly. You were slightly surprised but still didn’t hesitate to hug him back. You ran a hand through his hair, “You okay, kid?” you asked him, not too sure where the nickname came from but he didn’t seem to question it so neither did you. He didn’t answer, you pulled away and looked at him, “Javi?”

His eyes looked so empty, yet like they had seen wars. He stayed silent.

“Javi!” Travis exclaimed as he ran over, pulling the small boy into a tight hug. You sat back down next to Shauna, looking at Javi still in confusion.

“You’re good with kids” Shauna suddenly whispered to you, you looked at her and smiled, looking down at her baby bump then back at her,

“Well that’s lucky then isn’t it” you giggled. She chuckled and leaned in, giving you a gentle kiss.

~

You stared out the window as the snowstorm ravaged and raged. It had been a month or so since Javi had come back and he didn’t seem to be getting any better. He was silent still and avoided everyone as much as he could. Everyone except you and Travis.

Javi sat beside you, drawing a piece of paper. You glanced at the drawing; it seemed like he was drawing some sort of tree maybe. You weren’t too sure. You sighed and looked back out the window.

The door then suddenly slammed shut. Everyone looked over at Misty,

“I lost Crystal!” she exclaimed, “The storm just got too strong, we were separated and I just- I couldn’t find her” she seemed so scared yet something about what she was saying also seemed fake at the same time. Then suddenly your eyes widened and you shot up,

“Shauna and Tai are out there” you frantically rushed to grab your coat and a hat.

Lottie stopped you,

“Wait, you wont find them on your own, you’ll get lost” she insisted, you knew she was right but you couldn’t just leave them out of there, “We’ll find them, stay in here with Javi” you hesitantly nodded and sat back down, staring out of the window.

It felt like you’d been waiting forever till the door opened and the others came in, helping Shauna who seemed to be in a lot of pain. You rushed over and cupped her face,

“Whats wrong?” you asked, all of a sudden she cried out in pain, “I think the baby’s coming!”

You, Taissa and Misty helped get an area for Shauna to lay down where she’d be comfortable. She laid down, crying heavily from the intense pain. While some of the others went to go get things to help with the birth, you stayed by Shauna’s side. You held her hand and she squeezed it tight.

“Its gonna be okay, Misty will help” you insisted to her.

Her labour felt like it lasted for so long, she was practically covered in sweat and you constantly wiped her down with towels. Misty was in sheer panic and struggling to even help with the delivery. The whole ordeal was overwhelming you way too much, the yelling and panicked voices of everyone made your heart race. You head felt dizzy and you clutched Shauna’s hand tighter. “Okay Shauna, I think you need to start pushing” Misty told her after analysing how wide she was. Shauna quickly nodded and began pushing.

You held her hand throughout the whole process, supporting her the whole way through. The whole ordeal was way to much for you to process, with all the yelling, crying, screaming and more yelling, you were too overstimulated and managed to somehow zone out.

Misty wrapped the baby up in a blanket. You smiled and looked at Shauna, but she had passed out, “Shit, Shauna?” you gently wiped a strand of hair out of her face, ignoring the sweat that stuck to your fingers.

“She’ll be okay Y/n…” Misty told you, you smiled and looked at the baby but that smile then dropped when you noticed everyone else’s expressions.

“What? Whats wrong?” you asked, you then noticed a few of them starting to cry. You quickly lunged forward, carefully taking the baby. You held him in your arms, gently rocking him. “Come on….make a noise” you whispered to him, “come on baby” tears began to fill your eyes, “No, no, no, please” you begged to him.

“Y/n, he’s a still born” Tai told you. you choked out a sob and frantically shook your head.

All of a sudden, you heard Shauna starting to wake up. you looked at her, “Where’s my baby” was the first thing she said. When she noticed you crying her heart immediately dropped, “He didn’t make it” you told her, she quickly sat up and frantically shook her head. She took the baby in her arms and held him.

“No, no he’s a live, cant you hear him crying?” her questions became frantic as she repeatedly questioned, “why cant you hear him cry?” your heart broke at the sight. Shauna may have hurt you, and sure she didn’t treat you very well, but deep down you believed, no you knew. She didn’t deserve this. Nobody deserved this.

[jewishbarbies]

I'm sorry if this is kinda traumadumping, but I'm so increasingly terrified of the shooter fans. in a discord server I'm in, he came up as a subject, and I had a pretty civil and I think all in all healthy debate that mostly came to the same general conclusion with one of the other people on the server. (that I don't think he should be fandomized or have every bit of his life picked apart, and also the whole thing just makes me nervous because, well, "we must kill The Elites" often ends up more being Jews than actual "elites", but at the same time all murderers will end up with fanbases and people fascinated with their life details. it was all agreed yes, there are dangers, fandomizations happens, and no he shouldnt be dehumanized or deified, in fact i think those things go hand in hand in a sense)

then a third person jumped in and said we absolutely need to deify him, this could "change the world", and basically we should consider this a holy act and take the initiative to "finally get off our asses [and start killing The Bad People]", that he'll be the figure of a religion started by this revolution. fully serious. we've gone from full "glorious revolution [read: christian Judgement Day]" to "glorious revolution with our uniting hero [read: the second coming, which leads to the judgement day]"

I was so terrified I started shaking and almost cried. what the fuck is happening with people? she used to be an absolute sweetheart that always was the comforting "mom friend", I don't know what happened to her...

sorry, I just desperately needed to tell this to someone who agrees the sentiment of "going out and murdering, even most of the 'rich elite', is bad" and you're one of the only people I've seen that really fully agrees with that and is comfortable talking about it

this is exactly the kind of mentality I’ve been worried about. because “let’s kill The Elite” DOES end up at “let’s kill the jews”. it’s also just ridiculous to give yourself permission to kill anyone of any group you like for any reason, but here we are.

it hasn’t even been proven at all that Luigi is the shooter, and imo he’s not. but he would also be considered ‘an elite’, due to his family’s money and connection to the health care industry, so where does that leave us? a lesser elite killed an even more elite? elite on elite crime? if an actual poor person did this, they would not be seeing him as a hero. but because he’s an upper middle class, conventionally attractive white man with a convenient enough sob story, they eat that shit up and believe he’s some god.

the rhetoric is getting incredibly disturbing from all sides and idk what to do. other than commit ourselves to being labeled class traitors by stating the obvious, that this is reckless and incredibly dangerous ideology, idk. we just have to keep pushing back. people don’t have to weep for the ceo, but they need to understand where this insane rhetoric is going to lead us. if we have to be the canary in the mine again, so be it, but if we stop now who knows what will happen.

[dreadeves]

‘ig riz is demi/demi because the only one he’s shown interest in is fabian’ BZZZZT INCORRECT!!! he has never shown romantic/sexual interest in fabian. the only one riz has ever shown interest in is the SEXY RAT!!!! put some goddamn respect on the sexy rat’s name.

[acoraxia]

[foreverppl]

Orla’s liberation comes at the price of the merc’s. The further they entrench themself into being used as an implement for her to use to her ends, the more divorced they become to themself (though, even that’s a bit complicated. Who is the merc without Orla? Her guiding hand. Her crook shepherding. Her word governing.) She’s building her empire; the merc’s shoveling their grave. But at the same time, her empire doesn’t necessarily guarantee her own (true) freedom and is, in fact, a kind of gilded cage in its own right. You painstakingly build yourself a palace behind enemy lines, with all the luxuries you can scrounge together. Give yourself every comfort, loud music to drown out whatever ghosts you’re still trying to outrun, good sex, good food, people who will jump to murder for you without blinking an eye… yet it’s difficult to truly allow yourself to relish in any of it for more than a couple fleeting moments when you know there are serpents slithering just right outside the gates. Doesn’t matter how much you fortify your house of cards, it can still all come crumbling down with a gust of wind. And what then? One king (queen) deposes another, Vapolis continues on. No one will mourn. Orla knows this. Orla is terrified by this.

Anyway.. @vapolis sending you my therapy bill as I type this.