#Previously it was all absorbing interests and alcohol and now its just nothing

[carrotpiss]

:-(

[reidecorating]

L'amore Vero È Così (True Love is Like This)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader  

A/N: Woke up with a killer headache after celebrating the end of 2020 and thought writing something loosely based off events that took place on NYE would be a good cure. Hope this year’s been treating you all well!

Word Count: 4.3k

Summary: Summer nights and Spencer Reid make it hard for anyone to keep their hands to themselves. Add David Rossi’s holiday mansion and wine to the mix, and watch a dangerously hot fuse ignite

Warnings: Language (as in cursing AND me just completely butchering Italian), unprotected sex, penetrative sex

Masterlist

Maybe it was the Sauternes. Like a spark igniting along the fuse of dynamite, the sweet sting of white grape travelled down her throat, every sip exploding in kaleidoscopic vision and unfiltered words. Even so, it wasn’t the alcohol she was drunk on. No, not drunk - she wasn’t drunk - she was absolutely intoxicated. Not by anything of substance, but by an overwhelming desire for the man she had arrived with. 

Spencer Reid often felt out of place standing in any absurdly large entranceway, belonging to the old Italian with new money, recurrently settling for shifting from shoe to shoe, before taking a deep breath and pressing the doorbell with the hand unoccupied by a bottle he wouldn’t be drinking from. However, his sobriety was far from the cause of his imposter syndrome. Rather, it was the way he always arrived alone, while, what felt like, the rest of the team trickled in with their spouses or significant others. Whilst pairs would dance to vinyl sounds of Bowie, leaving little room for him and the odd number his presence formed in the abacus of the group, he would loiter in a corner, or, on occasion, entertain his godson with a pack of cards. More frequently, he would rattle off excuses about needing the restroom, only to spend his time exploring the corridors of a rather impressive house. A get together at David Rossi’s holiday home was uncommon, and the last time Spencer had wound up here, he found himself inspecting the tiny forgotten library the man housed, attempting to decipher the various foreign books residing on its mahogany shelves as he heard his friends stumbling their way through the Salsa downstairs. L'isola di Arturo, with sterling lettering on its ageing spine showing a familiar pen name, had quickly become his favourite. When he’d first translated the pages, he had chuckled at the parallels between himself and its disconsolate protagonist. However, after years of his ongoing solitude, and lonely arrivals to a castle full of people, he finally had someone on his arm. 

“Wait, what does this mean? I can make out the ‘amore’ but not much else,” That someone now squinted at the words his index finger underlined as he read her the words of that very book, aloud. “Hm?” He was visibly distracted by the Patchouli blend of orange and jasmine emanating from her skin as she leaned against his shoulder to read the page herself. “L'amore vero è così,” she whispered, unsure of the correct pronunciation but attempting it anyway. “Non ha nessuno scopo e nessuna ragione, e non si sottomette a nessun potere fuorché alla grazia umana,” she finished in a whisper, affecting Spencer in a way he hadn’t anticipated. Through fluttering eyelashes, she looked up at him, awaiting his rendition, and suddenly the temperature felt as if it had risen. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t been here almost as many times as him; she knew her way around Rossi’s holiday home, but Spencer had insisted on showing her his favourite room, claiming she hadn’t seen it yet. Diverting her attention from Emily’s anecdotes, “I kind of want you all to myself for a little bit,” he whispered in a kiss on her shoulder, proceeding to take her hand and pull her away from chatter over a jug of Cuban rum and homemade pizza - making sure to dissect, in explanation, nearly every painting adorning the maze of hallways on their short trek. He cleared his throat, prying his gaze away from the skin her little black dress revealed, unabashedly scanning her lips before using his own to form words. “True love is like this,” he subtly eyed her reaction to his words as he tried hard to not transliterate the European language. “It has no purpose and no reason, and it does not submit to any power except human grace.” Spencer’s voice was a newly inked quill, ebbing and flowing through the hot air of the dimly lit room. The dark winged butterflies that had been floating around her stomach all evening fluttered in a frenzy at his words, and the way the chartreuse of his eyes had been absorbed by black as they laid on her. “For such a dark story, it’s so beautiful,” she exhaled in a hushed tone, stare not leaving his as he slowly slid the book into the hollow slot where it had previously inhabited, too occupied by reading her demeanour to pay the book any more attention. “You think so? The author, Morante, Elsa Morante, was actually considered the greatest writer of Italy’s postwar generation, at one point.” Spencer began to rest his weight against the wall as they conversed. “I feel as if we always hear about Bassani or Parise, and all the unorthodox things Landolfi wrote in the fifties. It’s very refreshing to hear of a woman getting some well deserved recognition in such a male dominated niche,” she remarked. A dimple appeared on Spencer’s cheek as he grinned at the way she sounded a lot like him. “Agreed. In fact, Morante actually claimed she wished she’d been born a boy, so that she could have all of these heroic adventures. Once, when she was asked about the hero of that book,” he pointed towards the worn copy of L'isola di Arturo, “she commented: ‘Arturo, c’est moi!’,” 

“Living vicariously through him? Interesting,” she tilted her head slightly, “I also think its remarkable how beauty can emerge from so much pain,” she mulled aloud. His eyebrows raised at her words and the flux in her tone of voice. Slowly, she stepped towards him, forearms resting on his shoulders, entangling behind him. 

Earlier, she’d had the privilege of styling him as he stood in front of their shared mirror, muttering complaints of how he had 'nothing to wear’. Now, she repeated maledictions to herself regarding the clothing she had chosen, in her head, as she admired the way his black shirt was rolled up at the sleeves - displaying intricate nerves shadowing his fingers and arms - and simultaneously unbuttoned temptingly low on his chest, exposing the silver chain presenting a small initial, hers. The summer night had made sure a thin veil of sweat coated his collarbones, glistening with his movements under the lamp light. “It’s not a surprising process though - I mean, after the year you’ve had, just look at how pretty you are,”

“Did you just-” he gulped, chuckling, “use the copious amounts of semi-resolved trauma I harbour to romance me?”

“I may have,” she whispered into the skin below his ear, both hands now tangled in his hair as he remained pressed up against the wall, grateful that every wound, fight and flaw had led them here. And she never ceased to make her gratitude known. Tonight, though, ever since she’d caught sight of his hand gripping a cold glass, the strong concoction presumably belonging to Luke, she hadn’t been able to stop envisioning his body on top of hers. Unbeknownst to her, his thoughts had been very similar from the second she’d chosen to wear the satin fabric, claiming it matched his shirt, while leaving very little to the imagination. “Y/N,” he spoke, his body involuntarily leaning into hers. “We can’t- Not now.” His body language betrayed his words. “I don’t study behaviour for a living, unlike everyone else here, but Spencer, right now, yours tells me we can,” she brought down a hand to squeeze his wrist, which was resting against her lower back. He couldn’t breathe. Tongue in cheek, he shook his head at her, a smirk breaking way. “You, my pretty lady, are something else,” he caved, switching their position in a more urgent manoeuvre than either of them anticipated. Spencer’s hands grasped her jaw, his breath fanning over her before his lips collided with hers, messily. A hand cradled the back of her head, heeding any impact with the wooden blockade behind her, fingers and hair tangling together. Her hands travelled along his body, pinky tugging on his necklace in pursuit of closeness, while her lips roamed around his bobbing Adam’s apple, eliciting an exquisite string of moans. Spencer’s leg wedged itself between hers, slowly grazing his thigh against her, using a firm grip to guide her hips downwards, her soft sighs and tugs at his roots only encouraging him. 

The euphoria was short lived. A rapping on the library door tore them apart, its hinges creaking and giving way to an astounded looking Penelope Garcia. “Naughty!” she factitiously gasped. “I didn’t think the good doctor and his fine missus had it in them, but I was very, very wrong,”

“We were just-“ Y/N began, only to be cut off by the tipsy agent. “Save the excuses, beautiful lady. I was simply quested to find you two, and let you know that the rest of us are off to take a dip in the spa. Bring your boy toy, and scrumptious self, and join us ASAP - oh! And no funny business! There are children here,” Penelope gestured her two fingers away from her spectacles and towards each of them as a silent threat of ‘I’m watching you’. Y/N and Spencer exchanged a look, both flushed in different shades of red, on their way to creating a colour wheel. As Penelope spun on her heels and rushed to shut the door behind her, “Thank you, Penelope!” Y/N squeaked, Spencer exclaiming a timid “And sorry!” The two of them broke out into a fit of laughter, still frazzled. “I think I’m getting a little too comfortable with your team,” she grimaced, earning a laugh from the doctor. Later, as Spencer led her towards a bathroom, her arms occupied by a stack of towels, his hand on the small of her back, he dreaded the amount of self control he would need to invoke when the two of them would undress to change. 

What she had said wasn’t entirely untrue. She was indeed very comfortable with his team. If Spencer could have met himself, a year ago, anxious to introduce who he was sure was the love of his life to his dearest friends, he would flick himself in the head. She, not alarmingly, managed to get along with everyone, almost better than he did. Somehow managing to find common ground, even with Aaron Hotchner. He recalls, one night, months ago, listening to her and the usually stoic man debate about which broadway production was better: The Producers or The Phantom of the Opera. Spencer also recalls exactly how riled up he became as he watched her put the ex-theatric-gone-lawyer in his place after calling upon Spencer for some Tony Award statistics. Admittedly, he actively needed to combat the green eyed monster on his back whenever she would go jogging with Luke - but the way she kissed him before leaving, on her tiptoes in her running shoes, whispering ‘I love you’, and ‘I’m really only going for Roxy’, helped. She had become family, the invisible stamp of approval having been silently awarded when they all saw the looks the two of them shared, the three subtle squeezes in their woven hands, and the way Spencer now smiled with his teeth - the way they way they would move the moon and the earth for one another. 

Packed into the watery sauna, words exchanged between the group travelled into the atmosphere, a waxing gibbous eavesdropping overhead. She watched as Spencer squirmed across from her at the nearness to so many sweaty bodies, shoulders, elbows, knees and toes, belonging to anybody and everybody, poking him. Her eyes trailed along the dips and swells at the base of his neck, decorated in its usual, dainty, shimmering pendant, the bones there protruding as he slouched forward. Spencer’s hair was matted, condensation ironing chestnut ringlets to his forehead, complimenting his heated crimson cheeks. The butterflies returned, her stomach flipping as he ran his hand through the mop of curls to ease his discomfort. More of him - that was what she wanted. She hadn’t noticed, but she had been biting her lip nearly hard enough to draw blood. Pulling her back from her thoughts, a heavy exhale travelled past her left ear, changing the course of the steam emerging from the water - a stream of air enough to deflate a person, she noticed. “I can’t remember the last time I felt this relaxed.” The blonde rested her head against the barrier of the tub, seeing bright patterns on her eyelids as they shut over her eyes momentarily. Y/N reached over and grasped one of her shoulders in a clinical manner. “Who are you, and what have you done with Jennifer and the gruelling tension in her neck and jaw?” She interrogated, lightheartedly. “What can I say? Stress is my middle name,” she chuckled. “While we’re on the topic, though... Maybe you could give me one of those trigger-point massages,” she opened one eye, an iris burning sapphire, the blue only rival to that of the one from The Tell Tale Heart, finding Y/N’s face. Retreating her hand, having made her point, she let out a laugh at JJ’s words, “I’m afraid that’ll cost y-” Y/N’s eyes widened at the familiar dialect of the words, a charlatan on JJ’s tongue. “Wait a minute, can you repeat what you just said, but slowly?” 

“Oh, I know you heard me perfectly clear,” JJ smirked at her, eyebrows raising as her eyes shifted between the flustered woman and Spencer. 

They had a friendship of unfamiliar closeness, which JJ cherished. After nights of babysitting turning into wining with Merlot and dining on flaming dreaded cheese puffs, stashed away in an airtight container, upon JJ’s arrival home, the two had grown close. The agent was grateful for conversation veering away from work, and for someone seeing her from a different lens; one through which she wasn’t fizzled down to a petrie dish of a mother through a workaholic microscope. Y/N was curious to know how her famous mandatory-Spencer-de-stressing-trigger-point massages had come up in conversation between JJ and her, now guilty looking, boyfriend. She crossed her fingers in hopes that he’d spared the details of the events that usually took place following the neck rubs - another kind of de-stressing altogether. “Do you guys hear that? I think Will’s calling me- and I should go put Henry to bed… It’s quite late…” she exaggerated, wearing a redolent expression as she slunk away with a towel around her cold frame. “We’ll talk later, Jareau,” she looked up at JJ, after the shivering woman squeezed her shoulders in a bid goodnight, waving to the small crowd. Swiftly, Y/N’s gaze met Spencer’s, her figure not having left his vision once. 

The yard and small pool was clearing out, save for Luke and Tara bickering in the corner, so, through the bubbling water, she waded in Spencer’s direction, noticing the way he was evidently mentally undressing her. As if by his telepathy, a thin strap of her bathing suit slipped from its place, causing the gears in Spencer’s head to stop turning as he swallowed thickly. “Hey handsome, long time no speak.” A soft smile graced his lips, adoration for her evident, in place of his muted response. Wordlessly, he slipped a finger beneath the strap, tentatively putting it back in place, refusing to break eye contact in some unspoken play for power. “What’re you up to?” She squinted, wondering exactly what his motives were. “Nothing much,” he pulled her closer by the waist, whispering in a gravelly voice only she could hear, “I’m just thinking about how you didn’t get the chance to finish what you started, earlier,”

“Are you implying that you want me to…” she floated onto his lap, hands draping around his neck to steady herself, “pick up where we left off?” The question left her mouth in a breathy whisper, straight into his ear. He turned to look at her, unblinking. “I’m implying, that I’ve had those pretty noises you make replaying in my head all night, and that I’d like to hear them again,”

“Remind me, doctor, which one of us said ‘we can’t’?,” she mocked his whine, rolling her eyes back. “I have a better suggestion, how about you remind me which one of us struggled to stand the last time we played this game?” The calmness of his voice was the antithesis of the fire she was feeling inside her. Satisfied with her speechlessness, his eyes drifted down her body as she pried herself off him, settling in the plastic indent of a hot tub seat to his side. The attention of the pair of lovers were drawn to Tara’s laughter as she stepped into a robe, calling it a night. “What’d we miss?” Spencer’s clueless innocence returned, as if the words he’d spoken before were now out of mind. Devilishly, Tara responded, “Oh, you know, just me completely destroying this man’s ego,”

“Doesn’t take much does it?” Y/N offered Tara her fist in solidarity. “No it does not,” Tara chuckled, bumping it with her own. “You guys do realise that I’m right here?” Luke scoffed, also drying himself off. “I think that adds to their point?” Spencer offered, pursing his lips, amused. “Well, I’m going to go and catch some sleep, and maybe even shed a few tears over what’s been said about me,” he playfully scowled at Tara walking away, throwing a middle finger at him through the air without looking back. “Trust me, they are very professional,” Spencer promised, turning towards his only remaining company in laughter. “I’m sure they are,” she joked returning a smile. 

The two of them talked beneath an ink sky, stars like pinpricks in a blanket twinkling through their conversation, until she found herself on Spencer’s lap, once again, the ambience shifting to something far more carnal. Throughout the night, like a band of elastic stretching between two fingers, the tension between them had heightened. Now, they both tested the limits, anticipating its snap. His chlorine skin tasted electric on her tongue as she painted his neck and chest with a lilac rendition of the silver initial dangling there, letting his sighs catch in the shells of her ears. Allowing her tongue to explore his mouth, his hands tightened around her waist. “Mhm, no, Y/N,” he spoke, regaining his fleeting conscience. “This,” — kiss — “is a bad,” — kiss — “idea,”

“Spencer, look,” she glanced over at the house, and his eyes followed suite, craning his neck slightly. “What do you see?” She asked. “Aside from a house bigger than my entire apartment complex?” Her face was a deadpan. “All the lights are out, Spencer,” she gave him a look that said, come on, profiler, figure it out. Not a single connection formed in his head as he stared at the way the luminous blue of the night time water cast ripples on her skin - skin which was all over his. “All the lights are out… It’s late… and everyone’s asleep,” he reasoned, more to himself than in response to her insinuation. “We have no real chance of getting caught, plus…” her dark eyes were obscured by the eyelashes sheltering them as she tilted her head. “Would it be so bad if we did?” Two of her fingers danced along his chest, walking towards the damp hair at the nape of his neck, using the strands to pull him closer. “Everyone knowing exactly how good you make me feel?” She purred the last part in his ear, tugging at the cartilage with her teeth. Spencer partially whimpered. “Don’t hold back, gorgeous boy. You sound as good as you taste.” His eyes shut as his head hit the rim of the spa - only briefly losing himself once her mouth was on him again. “Someone’s talking like they’re in charge,” he tilted her chin up towards him, forcing her eyes onto his own. “I seem to be the one doing all the work here,” she teased. He kissed each of her collarbones, eyes still trained on hers. “You shouldn’t speak so soon.” With that, he undid the top of her swim suit, exposing her chest to the frigid night air, compelling a gasp. “Truthfully, I’ve been thinking about doing this a majority of the night.” The bass in his voice reached her core. “For someone who is so fastidious about cleanliness, you sure have a dirty, dirty mind, doct-” She never had the chance to finish the honorific, his lips moulding around a hardening nipple, allowing his fingers to toy with the other. Rolling his tongue around the bud, he smiled to himself as he heard her call out his name, over and over, as if her voice was coming through a scratched vinyl. “Where’s all the talk from before?”

“You’re evil,” she groaned, her hips bucking against his board short clad body. 

Spencers lips travelled along the valley of her breasts, only to hike back up them at a tantalising pace, prehensile fingers covering the ground his mouth couldn’t. Her hands grasped so tight in his hair, he was sure the strands would fall out. A groan of his own left vibrations reverberating through her body, causing her heart to jump. “Alright, you’ve had your fun,” he gnarred, as his hands gripped her wrists, holding them behind her back. With his unoccupied hand, he dipped his fingers into what was left of her apparel. “Is this all for me?” He smirked at the ease with which his fingers slipped over her. “Don’t flatter yourself, we’re in water,”

“You’re so impolite - even when I’m spoiling you,” tutted Spencer. Retroceding his hand, determined to leave her on edge, and her skin a mirror image of his, he continued to pin her fragile hands back against the base of her spine. “S-Spencer, please,” her words struggled to make any sense, “please, I need more,” she panted out, moving purposefully along the growing outline in his shorts. The pleasure was overwhelming. Spencer fiddled with the material still covering her, pulling it aside to make way for himself in between her legs. His eyes softened, silently seeking permission, even as she impatiently pulled down his waistband. When she nodded and eased his ailing with a soft, lingering kiss, he slowly pushed himself into her, never failing to be acutely attentive to her comfort as if it was their first time together. “This was what you were after?” Teased Spencer, his hips speeding up. “So badly,” she uttered out a sigh. “Then take it like you want it.” She craved his adept touch, and she made that known. “S- Spencer, oh god,” she groaned, “you feel so fucking good.” His breathing became heavier, softs grunts and hisses filling her ears with every movement. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, whining in a destitute way at the full feeling. At a slower pace, one of Spencer’s hands guided her hips along himself, while the other traced infinity on her sensitive nerves. “Sweet girl- fuck, you feel like a dream,” he moaned as she tightened around him. Her toes curled, the warm water of the pool splashing her bare skin. Spencer occupied all of her senses, the same way she did his. “I’m so close,” she whimpered, before he used his nose to nudge her face upwards, her momentarily open eyes reflecting constellations. Spencer kissed her once more. Her hands long freed from his grip, she left traces of herself in the form of tiny red sickles on his freckled back as her nails released some frustration. 

Dragging her fingers along his torso, she felt the muscles of his stomach tighten, hers doing the same. Shaky sighs wavered from her lips at the bliss Spencer was providing. “Keep your eyes open for me, angel,” she tried her hardest to focus on his lustfully blown pupils. “That’s it. Just look at what you do to me,” he gasped out, head falling backwards, eye contact broken - only for a second - before he gulped and looked back at her. “You’re breathtaking,” she whispered, hoarsely, stroking his sweaty cheekbone with her thumb.  She could recognise the golden gates of heaven in his eyes as he came undone inside her, warmth spilling over her in every aspect. The knots in her stomach loosened shortly after his, curses spilling from both of them. She rode him through his release, fond of the way he left light kisses on her temple, whispering compliments and confessions of love. Once he was sure she’d caught her breath, and some air had returned to his own lungs, he kissed her, gently, in the summer sauna heat, beneath the stars.

A loud cough startled the two. Stood in the open French doors of the veranda, scotch in hand, and eyes screwed shut, was David Rossi. Their minds were in the same place, wondering why they hadn't listened to Penelope’s drunken advice. “When you two are done, please remember to turn the tub lights off - and put the filter on high.” She hid herself in Spencer’s chest, heartbeat in her ears, contemplating holding her breath for a really, really long time. Spencer was flushed red, his own nose buried in her neck so as to not face the older man. “Or better yet, put some money together to buy me an entirely new spa,” Rossi, laughed, opening one eye to catch sight of Spencer giving him a shameful thumbs up. Even as Rossi wandered away, their embarrassment remained a fresh burn. Spencer groaned as her tired hand fumbled with his disastrous hair, “I don’t even want to begin thinking about how much of that he heard,”

“Or saw,”

“Don’t!”

“I’m never going to be invited here ever again, am I?”

[deviationdivine]

Nighttime Fear (RK800-60!Prompt Request)

He is a fear you succumb to until his true face reveals itself... 

Word Count: 2.2k

tw: Angst, Language, Smut Themes

a/n: Follower/Reader Appreciation Drabble | Prompt: “Then perish.” - originally a request 

You never knew daylight could be so violent…

Night becomes a better way to die most assuredly. Revelations unfold live as all falls down in a blink. Broadcast for all to witness and this conversation stops before it begins. No more fight in endless hope. Endless despair replaces unkindly but final. It fails. There is no more chance. Gunned down, left to rot in the snow like nothing. 

It sickens you to watch. So much it hurts to see what they have done that you no longer have courage to face this truth. All those androids - obliterated. 

Switching off television does not switch off panic. Silence only drives the stake further center of your heart. 

Connor! 

Where is he? They won’t take him. Please.

Your body sinks. Attempting to bury into safety of cushions they are nothing more than a fabricated security. Soft surroundings but hardest of hearts turn to stone and shut down the life that remains. 

Laying a head atop arm of the couch, one single harbor to anchor, you stare off. Nothing in particular holds interest or thought. You merely exist. Waiting, praying for a sign but part of this so-called strength that carries you throughout is cracking. Drawing eyes to door it is a foolish hope because he will not come. Appearing over threshold enables frantic, happy swoop of your arms to snake around his tall form. Even if it may be awkward still but it will be worth your sanity. 

Sleep overtakes tears, doubts and ultimate fears. Exhaustion defeats you and silence becomes your tomb. Then a thunderous crack commands your door.

Banging in a louder echo is overactive imagination. You are so tired. It rouses you sharply drawing you from the position weariness placated you to. This time it is fierce. Movement brings out not only a jolt up to feet but thudding of heart. 

Another crack, specific and unremitting for entry vibrates its surface. They will not leave. 

Caught up confused as you wake so quick pulls you to answer. A small hope bubbles but immediately fades. No, of course it is not who you think. How can it be? 

Still you unlock with vigor. Opening quickly ready to pounce on whoever decides to come here when everything falls apart around the city. Those plans cease their existence meeting those eyes. 

A brief shock rattles. He is no illusion. Solid, alive and –

“Connor?” 

Chocolate fire cinders down to the quick of your soul and he does not verbally greet. He physically bounds. 

Strong, insistent hands clash with your soft humanity to drag you inside as his mouth collides. The android slams the door shut blocking out any who will come to interrupt. He has you now. He will take every last piece to mark with his scent claiming tender flesh in brutal domination. 

Thumping you heavily into wall unleashes every caged carnivore hungering behind his walls. Free and broken he will choose how this deviancy spreads fire just as you infect subconscious acidity. 

What’s gotten into Connor?! He’s an untamed beast sweet in temperament but ruthless in vivacity. Nearly weeping at the magnitude of passion you are at his mercy. You like it. No. You love it. Never in your wildest dreams did you think you would enjoy the roughness so well. Already your legs tremble, a tight twist forcing an unbearably pleasant pool between legs.  

The moment he purposely slides his leg, pushing knee between and into your groin you gasp uncontrollably. Spreading your legs apart, leaning his tall, lithe frame into you so headily; a shudder unmakes whatever composure is left in the physical armor you adorn. 

He tears through. Casting aside a shield of your making, he dismantles self control. At his mercy, whimpering into the android’s surprisingly hot mouth, desire pools center of your orbit.

Long fingers invade past the swatch of fabric, searching for your heat and he finds the sweet slickness, wet splendor that gives all of your cravings away. An open book your pages spread and the android enjoys the moans pouring salaciously up throat. 

He bites into the skin clamping over pulse. Internal analysis floods vision. Arousal spikes in a shiver he absorbs like a parasite living off your essence.

You grab back at him. Needing to be closer than you have, melting away mortal flesh with his corrosive love. Scalding transcends this spiritual plane that grounds you. For him you will, must float.

Oh, please yes.

Take this turmoil befalling Detroit away. There is only a ravenous prince made of plastic and synthetics. But you do not care. He is exquisite fire boiling the blood through tissue.

“Connor, I-I want you,” whispering up into his lips ascends your spirit. “I’ve wanted you since you first…!” 

A yelp overtakes the rush of confessions in his abrupt snag of hips. Forcing you from between his chest and wall he roughly moves your body. Stronger than anything you will ever witness the android hoists effortlessly, hungry, needy for the slick warmth his fingers kissed. He wants it around him in a luscious sheath all for him. 

Dropping you down upon freshly washed bedding pumps more than a frantic heart. Anticipating drives your body in reaction to what’s to come. Knowing how quickly he scanned interior of small flat only drives this ache. He made haste to plant you sprawled on the bed, which seemed so much further away in the beginning of this dance. 

Cool fingers snake underneath your shirt riding up the fabric slowly. His lips twist in a predatory grin. Something devilish prickles, needles stabbing at you while watching his face. How can he appear so different but so right? Never have you witnessed such hunger in his eyes. It crumbles you. Gladly you dissipate, allowing swift undress; your head thrusts to pillow, fluffy groundwork to soften the blow of this love. 

A wet flick touches skin traveling up torso greedily tasting. This android’s tongue becomes a weapon bent on destruction. Oh, how you want to be destroyed. 

“Mmm,” a huff answers him sweetly. 

He is neither sweet nor gentle. Your back arches as you desperately try to stopper your cry of pain. His bite is sharp. Sinking into flesh, pulling mercilessly like tenderized meat off the bone. 

Even as kisses crash harsh in a bid to brand you eternally there is something gnawing. Despite wanting this with Connor you cannot help but wonder how different he seems. Not a word spoken, simply feasting upon you as a banquet readily displayed for a private party. Realizing that this is his private affair all you can do is lie back in wait. 

“Connor, are you-?”

“Be still!” the android’s voice deepens, growling impatiently.

Pining arms above head, sliding atop he breathes artificially into your shoulder. Inhaling you pushes the android’s strings, groaning between the friction of plastered bodies. 

Writhing beneath his heavy frame to a private tune in your mind does not completely blind. As he pulls back from between your legs to remove jacket it’s the first time this fatalistic passion subsides. You see it then. The serial number: 313-248-317-60. 

60

Your eyes widen at the dawning realization. Wafting over arousal and increasing a tremor in your stomach. All of it washes away as a stain slowly ebbing from its tarnish. Goosebumps attack now in an entirely different way and when he slithers back towards you, coiling up your previously willing, shivering body you internally scream. 

“You’re not Connor!” 

Pushing at his chest hurls you off the side of bed. Landing in a tangling thud increases your anxieties. All this time it wasn’t even him. It was - 

“Who the hell are you?!” 

Crossing arms over chest doesn’t prevent the fact he’s already seen everything. Maybe not every piece because you still have jeans hanging on hips, unzipped but all the same. 

“Tsk. I wondered how long before you saw my serial.” Standing tall, moving away from unsettled bed brings him close as an imposing force to punish your wildest dreams. He analyzes the quick pace of your heart still thudding in arousal. “I would have made you scream. That can still be arranged.” 

Everything down to the last detail is Connor except it’s not him. This can only mean one horrible thing. 

“I have his memories uploaded,” the Cyberlife enforcer needles you. Smug he is victorious because destruction felled the original prototype and his alcoholic waste of a partner. “Memories of you. So sweet, so soft. Driving the disease of deviancy in every circuit. He - loved you I think.” 

Tears collect abundantly listening to truths in all too familiar husky voice but somehow raspier, darker. The voice of Connor reverberates out of a mechanized monster. 

“When I uploaded them I felt a curious urge,” RK800-60 explains partially his desire to destroy. 51 fell to knees riddled with entirety of magazine. Still it was not enough. It did not satisfy to use one mere kill shot. Aggression flooded his sensors overheating processors and the only way to appease became a symphony of gunfire. Slaughtering instead of simply stopping rages this beast inside and still it claws to break out. He narrows burnished, bleak and terror, a game of wolf and rabbit. How juicy you remain on his tongue little rabbit.

“I wanted to be the one.” He admits his own deviancy. “The victor. I am Connor as much as Connor was he. I can be yours, Y/N.” 

Yours? Oh, God! No! 

“Get away from me!” Screaming angrily, repulsed with how much you adored, begged for what he was about to give brews an incredible guilt. How long was this going to go on? What if you never took notice? What if he was too powerful in his fervor, exalting you to heights unknown you could not to stop yourself from -? 

Impossible to comprehend because this is not your Connor. You would never want anyone else. 

Are you so sure? 

A tiny voice out from the dark questions each breath that spills from your lips, each thought that convinces yourself. How sure are you? 

Standing here facing a torrent of unfathomable, plentiful carnage, his carnage glorious and gratifying. He pushed you to the wall ravenous. Immediately you responded in a tango of fantasy rivaling the most sacred of secrets in the heart. He hurled you to the bed insatiable. Light bloomed inside aching to be taken, pulsating for his majesty. 

You wanted him. A violent storm laying waste to foundations those same ones held for what he represents. Connor. He is gone. It is so obvious. 

A flood happens bursting the dam shielding your strength. This thing that is not him….how you crash into his sea. Turbulent and bottomless waiting to drown you and he almost did. 

“I want you to get out…” 

Weakness. Savory wetness. He smells it. The android reads beyond words. All vitals point to what you really want. RK800-60 tilts his head in sadistic satisfaction. 

“I will make a deal with you, Y/N.” 

The minute he speaks everything sinks down into your stomach. This time it is not the affectionate twist of butterflies. Taking flight for who you naively believed to be Connor; your eyes trail up the identical android equally tall and piercing insides with dark hubris. 

His eyes may be the same color but something deeper shimmers. An endless abyss made of pure malignity. Deeper than the most subterranean sea trench pulls you down until air no longer bathes lungs. 

Quicksand is more merciful. How far you sink is your choice. 

“Pretend none of this ever happened.” The android offers a calculating solution. Humans are known to be fickle. As he stands here now, watching as a bird of prey, hawkish but serene in his imposing stance. 

RK800-60 holds onto that machine persona. An influx of software instability following unwarranted connection to 51 does not completely vanquish Cyberlife’s protocols. 

He is the assassin a wisp in the night moving undetected, shadow and smoke, night terror divine. Silent necrosis spreads across city infectious, crippling all in his name. His actions mean an unsuccessful end to revolution but it does not have to end for you. 

“Forget that Connor stepped foot inside Cyberlife Tower. And love me instead.” 

Is he insane?! 

“No.” Absolute disgust slips around one syllable but it is every pain, each denial you can stab into his artificial exterior. No. You cannot. If you do can you live with your decision? Throwing away the memory of the original for a copy that uploaded his memory but is still not him.

Sixty’s smug aura evaporates. Watching you move hastily snaps his fingers onto your arm. Wrenching you close they release to steeple around your throat, holding vice with minimal pressure. 

“Then perish.” 

Hissing against ear jolts you into him and he revels the synthesis of horror and prurience. Willingly you allow contact without much fight before he encircles you this way. 

RK800-60 fondles your earlobe with the tip of his tongue. “I will fuck the heart out of you. Little rabbit.” 

“OK.” 

Weakly you give in. From the beginning he knew you would. What does this make you? What hell will you bring forth? 

Self destruction will be your fate for this. Somehow writ in stone moment you allowed him to enter. Now he enters your mouth all forked tongue and demoniac consumption. He eats you alive. Yet you welcome it. 

You cannot let go of this face. Even in the possession of a fearsome pretender. 

[creativity-is-rebellion]

Body Shop Haul

I love shopping ethically, and no big brand is more synonymous with ethical sourcing than The Body Shop. I have purchased items at The Body Shop for many years, and have always found their products to be effective in addressing any skin concerns I may have, as well as having great makeup, such as lash-extending mascaras and long-lasting matte lipsticks. All products are non-animal tested and cruelty-free, and they conduct fair-trade practices in sourcing the goods they make in many corners of the world, such as Morocco and Kenya. I started buying Body Shop products when they opened in 1997, with the first product I bought being their Born Lippy lip balm in Strawberry. Since then, I graduated first to their Tea Tree range, which was the most effective in ridding my face of blemishes during my teenage years and early 20s. After that, I started using their Vitamin E products, which restored moisture to my dry skin. Lately, some of their products, such as the lip butters and body yoghurts, have been removed of bee’s wax and other items, making them 100% Vegan certified, which is amazing (and may require a separate haul-related post). Here are my brand-new purchases which I bought in bulk the other day. I will evaluate them below. Enrich not exploit!!

Items I purchased:

Vanilla Pumpkin Hand Cream, $7 AUD

This is a limited-edition hand cream, made especially for Halloween as part of The Body Shop’s Fall for Pumpkin range, which also includes a Body Butter, and a Shower Cream. I found that the hand cream absorbs quickly and effortlessly into the hands, leaving them feeling soft and moisturised. It has a non-greasy feel, and the scent has pleasant undertones of pumpkin (of course), vanilla (of course) from Madgascar, and hints of tonka bean, hazelnut, and maple syrup. The scent lasts up to 3-4 hours. I highly recommend this product and give it a 5 out of 5. Get it quick before October 31st!

Coconut Hand Cream, $7 AUD

This hand cream reminds me of an endless summer, and the scent lasts as long as the Vanilla Pumpkin Hand Cream. It glides on and is non-greasy, and leaves hands feeling soft and hydrated. It smells amazing and is the ultimate handbag must-have. It contains both community trade organic virgin coconut oil from Samoa in Polynesia, and community trade Shea from Ghana. I highly recommend this product, 5 out of 5 stars. Experience that summer fragrance all year round!!

Drops of Light Pure Resurfacing Liquid Peel, $37 AUD

This amazing peel, which for optimal results you should use 2-3 days a week, instantly leaves skin feeling illuminated after one use. With continuous use, it reduces the appearance of skin marks and freckles, and gives a more brightened and even skin tone. I personally like it better than the Vitamin C and Drops of Youth Peels, probably because I struggle with freckles and skin marks. It contains Red Algae Extract harvested from the North Atlantic Ocean, and is rich in Vitamin C Minerals. The only thing is that it can be difficult getting rid of dead skin residue straight away after the peel has been applied, and takes about 2 rounds with the skin cleanser to get it all off. I recommend this product for the results it gives you. I give it 4 out of 5 stars.

Vitamin E Hydrating Toner, $19 AUD

This toner is best applied with The Body Shop’s Luxury Facial Flannel (which I have previously purchased), or cotton wipes, in order to preserve its longevity, and maximise it’s effectiveness. Made with Vitamin E extract and Community Trade Soya oil from Brazil (another ethically-sourced product), this product is alcohol-free, and leaves skin feeling refreshed and hydrated. I have learnt the importance of using a toner as part of my skin beauty regime over the years, and this toner has always given me maximised benefits, and is therefore one of my favourite skin products. It effectively removes traces of makeup and skin cleanser. Using a skin cleanser to remove makeup is usually never enough, and using it on it’s own can leave the skin feeling dry, and this is where the benefits of using the Vitamin E Toner come in, ensuring the skin is both properly cleaned and that it’s natural hydration balance is restored. I highly recommend this product, and give it a 5 out of 5 stars.

Tea Tree Targeted Gel, $14 AUD

This little beauty is fantastic for targeting specific blemishes in a particular region, so as not to dry out other parts of your face. It is made with Community Trade Tea Tree from Kenya, and is 100% ethically-sourced. It is quick-drying and effective in reducing blemishes quickly. I had a break-out recently, and it was a god-send in drying out my blemishes within two days. The only thing people might not realise (but I do, so here’s the warning) is that you need to wash and wipe thoroughly the wand applicator each time after you apply it to an affected area, so as not to spread the blemishes. I recommend this product and give it a 4 out of 5 stars.

Tea Tree Mattifying Lotion, $19 AUD

This lotion is great to use as an everyday moisturiser on oil-prone and blemish-prone skin, and is effective in drying up and reducing blemishes. It is light-weight and non-greasy to apply, and, like the Tea Tree Targeted Gel, is enriched with Community Trade Tea Tree Oil from Kenya. It provides hydration without clogging pores, and is fine to use under make-up without causing further break-outs. I cannot express how much I love this product, and I give it 5 out of 5 stars.

Tea Tree Skin Clearing Facial Wash, $15 AUD

This wash is a beauty regime must-have for blemish-prone skin. I have been using this product off-and-on for around 19 years now, whenever I have a break-out, which usually happens in summer due to the high level of humidity where I live. Again, it is made with ethically-sourced Tea Tree Oil from Kenya (enrich, not exploit), and leaves skin feeling refreshed and super clean. It tingles a little after applying, which is always a good sign if you want to know that a product targeted toward reducing blemishes is working. I give this product a 5 out of 5.

Matte Lipstick in Sienna Rose (No. 430), $21 AUD

Who doesn’t love a nude-coloured lipstick that goes with anything, and glides on seamlessly, providing total matte coverage, and long-lasting colour? No-one, that’s who. This lipstick is perfect for everyday wear, and is a beauty essential. I ate lunch, and this little beauty still persevered, and did not require a re-application afterwards. What a trooper. Also, it is enriched with Community Trade Brazillian Nut Oil,and is 100% Vegetarian. To those who are allergic to bee’s wax, it would probably be safe to avoid this product, as it contains bee’s wax. I recommend this product, 5 out of 5 stars.

Matte Lipstick in Rio Fuschia (No. 423), $21 AUD

Repeat what I’ve said above, but also, this colour is bold and bright. I love a dramatic lip colour if I decide to dress up, and this lipstick definitely does the trick. I give it 5 out of 5 stars.

Softening Body Butter in Warm Vanilla, $9 AUD

This is an early-release Christmas fragrance addition (the other two of which will be Rich Plum and Juicy Pear). It has undertones of jasmine, caramel, and, of course, vanilla extract ethically-sourced from Madagascar, and handcrafted Shea butter from Tamale, Ghana. It adds 24-hour moisture, and is great for normal-to-dry skin. It leaves skin super soft and silky, and it smells amazing. I found it is great for night-time application, as the fragrance calms me down and helps me sleep better. The only negative is that it takes a while for the skin to absorb it, like most of the Body Butter range. Great for getting in that Christmas spirit. It’s probably not for non-lovers of vanilla though. Grab it while it lasts!! I recommend this product and give it a 4 out of 5 stars.

Moringa Bath Bubble and Candied Plum Bath Bomb, $6 AUD

I love the bath bubble and bomb range, I just wish they were bigger!! I tend to combine up to two fragrances per bath routine (as one causes fragrant bubbles and the other gives the bath a fragrant, milky texture), and this time I chose this combo. There are so many fragrances to choose from, including Green Tea, Pink Grapefruit, Coconut, Strawberry, Mango, Candied Plum, and Moringa. The three new fragrances that will be introduced this Christmas (Rich Plum, Warm Vanilla, and Juicy Pear) will also have bath bomb/bubbles variations. I adore nothing more than a good fragrant bath, coupled with some Sauvignon Blanc and Netflix on my iPad, perfectly balanced on a bath caddy, while relaxing with some candles. The bath bubbles are not overly frothy, and the bombs provide an interesting texture. There are also bottles of bubbling bath variations ian Wild Argan Oil and British Rose available for $20, but at just $3 per bomb/bubble (and a 4 for $10 special), these little beauties are a bargain!! I recommend this product, but I’m taking away a star, because of their size. 4 out of 5 stars.

Happy Go Lash Mascara, $23 AUD

This mascara is fantastic for lengthening lashes without them clumping, and is an update on The Body Shop’s old formula, which is why I had to try it for myself!! It is definitely new and improved. It didn’t dry out my lashes or make them flaky, and made them look lush. A down-side for some people is that it is only available in black (it’s not a problem for me, because I have dark hair and eyebrows). It thickened and defined my lashes perfectly!! It is made from 99% natural ingredients and is enriched with Community Trade beeswax from Cameroon and Community Trade organic virgin coconut oil from Samoa in Polynesia.  The only issue I had was that it was not the easiest to remove, even with makeup remover. I recommend this product, and give it 4 out of 5 stars.

Born Lippy Lip Balm in Passionberry, $6 AUD

The Body Shop finally brought back this Born Lippy shade after discontinuing it, but only for a limited time. I love this lip balm colour and scent to death, as it was amongst my first Body Shop purchases when I was a teenager. It is hydrating and nourishing, and gives lips just a hint of colour. Made from Community Trade beeswax from Guide D’Espoir in Cameroon. It does what it is supposed to do (moisturise), and is a bargain at only $6 AUD. The only downside is that it doesn’t stay on your lips for long. I recommend this product, and give it 4 out of 5 stars.

Strawberry Softening Body Polish, $15 AUD

Strawberry-scented products from The Body Shop are among my all-time favourite products in their catalogue of goods. I used this product before my last shower, and was amazed with the exfoliating result after washing it off. It gently refined my skin, and buffed away dead skin cells, whilst leaving my skin silky-soft and hydrated. It contains cold-pressed strawberry seed oil, which is what provides the exfoliation, and is also infused with Community Trade honey from Ethiopia. I highly recommend this product, and give it 5 out of 5 stars.

Honey Bronze Shimmering Dry Oil, $33 AUD

A must-have for the summer!! Gives you a sun-kissed, shimmery look, which is great for glamming it up for a night out on the town, or for sparkling in the sunshine.  Packed Community Trade honey from Ethiopia, the non-greasy formula delivers a warm hint of shimmering colour. It drys quickly and won’t rub off on your clothing. It is my go-to for a tan-enhancing shimmer, and is great for a one-off, bronzed look. This is probably the only downside, as I wished it lasted longer than just a one-off tan application. But for what it is, it is an enduring product that can last up to 6-8 hours on your skin. I recommend this product, and give it 4 out of 5 stars.

Vitamin C Glow Boosting Moisturiser, $35 AUD

This product left my skin practically glowing and feeling ultra-hydrated. It provided a necessary skin boost when my skin was looking dull. It’s lightweight and non-greasy, and gave me a natural glow. It is made with ethically-sourced  Vitamin C rich Camu Camu from the Amazonian Rainforest in Peru, as well as Community Trade Aloe Vera. I highly recommend this product, and give it 5 out of 5 stars.

Overall Verdict:

I will continue to shop at The Body Shop for their ethically-sourced, high-quality and relatively inexpensive beauty products. They have a wide range of attractive and beautifully fragrant products that are appealing to purchase, and provide you with a feel-good mind-set, as all products are natural and cruelty-free. Long live The Body Shop!!

Total Price: $287 AUD

[mara-the-cactupus]

Everything Ask Game

Thank you @the-moon-loves-the-sea​ for tagging me! This is quite the list:

LAST...

Drink: A lukewarm London Fog. I was messing around with the tea at work.

Phone call: A customer.

Text message: My aunt, who wants to go on a beach walk with me.

Song you listened to: Hmm... last thing I actually sat down and clicked on would be this Star Trek medley; I don’t know the names of half the songs that play in the background of life these days.

Time you cried: Watching Logan.

HAVE YOU...

Dated someone twice: um... nope

Kissed someone and regretted it: once again, I have zero data in this field.

Been cheated on: nope

Lost someone special: I lost a couple of very sweet dogs in my childhood.

Been depressed: no

Gotten drunk and thrown up: No, I generally stay away from alcohol. I have, however, had way too much caffeine and sugar in one day and almost thrown up multiple times now. It was not fun.

Made new friends: yes, every time I went to a new school or get a new job. And on here, of course : )

Fallen out of love: hmm, I’ve never really been in love in love, but I have gotten disillusioned with people I previously admired, almost like platonically falling in and out of love.

Found out someone was talking about you: not that I can remember, but I suppose my parents have to have talked about me some time.

Met someone who changed you: yes. Just about everybody who I get to know.

Found out who your friends are: I suppose they’re the people who I keep coming back to, and who keep coming back to me. The ones who don’t fall by the wayside even if we have no practical reason to keep in touch.

Kissed someone from your facebook list: ~no facebook~ (*wow*)

Kissed a stranger: no

Drank hard liquor: once again, I don’t really drink. But I have had some rum and Kahlua while making tiramisu at a friend’s house.

Turned someone down: yes.

Sex on the first date: um... definitely not.

Broken someone’s heart: oh, I hope not...

Had your heart broken: by movies, all the time.

Been arrested: no : )

Fallen for a friend: yeah, a few of them... but it sort of falls into that platonic-crush zone I mentioned earlier.

Kissed on the first date: nope

GENERAL

List three favorite colors: warm sunny yellow, liquidy yellowy orange, clear tropical ocean blue

How many facebook friends do you know in real life: zero out of zero.

Do you have any pets: no

Do you want to change your name: no, I like my names. They’re part of what make me who I am : )

What time did you wake up: somewhere between 9 and 10 because all I had scheduled for this morning was art. It was wonderful.

What were you watching at midnight last night: my dreams, presumably. Or the insides of my eyelids.

Name something you can’t wait for: several years in the future when I have some filmmaking experience under my belt and have landed a directorial job on an exciting film with a decent budget !!

When was the last time you saw your mom: today.

What is one thing you wish you could change in your life: I wish I wasn’t so weird and awkward as a kid, so I didn’t have a reputation/self-expectation of being shy. Then again, I’ve gotten more confident since then. But still overly wary.

What are you listening to right now: a bus just went by. I can hear the sound of breathing, and of those machines and contraptions that you forget are on but are always on, and my splayed-finger typing.

Have you ever talked to a person called Tom: yes. Multiple people.

Something that is getting on your nerves right now: humanity in general

Most visited site: tumblr.

Mole: a few, here and there. I’ve never really noticed them.

Mark/s: nothing I can think of except the constellations on my face and back.

Childhood dream: to be a writer.

Do you have a crush on someone: no. I seem to have outgrown them.

What do you like about yourself: my mind, my imagination, my internal monologue and source of amusement. My artistic skills. My body. My face. I think I’m generally pretty satisfied with myself as a person.

Piercings: none.

Nickname: Well, I guess there’s Azuki, which is my middle name, but other than that I’m just Mara. It’s a pretty straight-forward name.

Relationship status: single.

Pronouns: I’ve always felt pretty comfortable with she/her.

Favorite TV shows: ooh... Sense8 is probably my top show right now. I used to love BBC Sherlock. I also like Daredevil and Luke Cage, and I’ve been wanting to watch Brooklyn 99 for ages.

Tattoo: none.

Right or left handed: right.

Surgery: wisdom teeth, but so far nothing else. I would go for vision-correction but I get terribly squeamish.

Hair dyed a different color: no, my hair has always been pretty plain. I just wash it and let it air dry, nothing else.

Sport: I've done a little bit of martial arts and dancing and swimming here and there, but no real big organized sports aside from soccer when I was in elementary school.

Vacation: camping in a forest by the ocean, or traveling via air. There’s just something magical about being in a big airport with lots of vast emptiness and architecture, especially at night. The sort of feel of it reminds me of Captain America: The Winter Soldier, or of an airport factory, or of a wastewater treatment plant. It’s just... like you’re separated from the real world, like the real world with all its problems doesn’t really exist and you aren’t an identity but just a soul without self-consciousness. I don’t know how else to describe it.

Current and all-time best friend name: probably my sister, or else my friend since middle school who I still go on walks with.

Eye color: Brown, like my hair.

Favorite movie: Captain America: The Winter Soldier, or Finding Nemo/The Incredibles/Monsters Inc. I also like Inception, but that’s not a very good mindset to hang out in for more than a day or so.

WHICH IS BETTER?

Hugs or kisses: hugs! I love hugs : >

Lips or eyes: lips are fun to draw, with the swoopy-swoop arch of them, but eyes are just so fascinating. And eyes give a lot of helpful emotional cues.

Shorter or taller: taller can be more interesting. Tall buildings have interesting views, for example. And trees are wonderful, and also tall.

Nice arms or stomach: hmm... I would like to have a stronger core, and also eat healthier, so I’ll go with stomach. Although strong arms can be helpful.

Sensitive or loud: I think sensitive is generally better, because it means receptive, or observational – you’re absorbing more information as a whole, while if you’re loud you might be blocking a lot of those cues from yourself.

Hook up or relationship: relationship.

Troublemaker or hesitant: troublemakers can be charming, but also annoying if they don’t know when to stop. But I’m hesitant, and I get annoyed with that trait, so maybe troublemaker is better after all. More confident, I guess.

DO YOU BELIEVE IN...

Yourself: yes.

Miracles: yes.

Love at first sight: not really. You have to get to know the person, then realize you’re compatible, not see them and then try to force compatibility. That will only lead to disappointment.

Santa Claus: I can’t remember if I ever really did.

Tagging: aaaaaannyone who sees this post, scrolls by it, comes across it months later... just go for it. And tag me so I can see your answers : )