#That and everything else that just seems to be going wrong is just so so much for me right now. I don't know how long I can do this anymore

[gretchenantwort]

the original post of this thread is all about the women the op kept finding about: women who only begin dressing androgynously after identifying as nonbinary. if you "don't see" the point in what op was saying, then i don't see why you replied to her in te first place.

you mistake what the wrong pronouns are. they are meant to refer to people by their sex. if your issue isn't your sex but rather your gender, whatever that is, then you have no reason to complain.

you're not getting mad over "being called steve when you aren't steve". you're getting mad over being called your name, over being referred to when others are talking about you and not talking with you. if your name is steve it's pretty fucking stupid to demand others call you john just because you prefer that name or whatever.

you were a little kid and everyone is supposed to take a child's delusional feelings as more important than reality? be for real.

language is meant to be in accordance with reality because that simplifies communication, the point of language.

if you think in reality we should call people what they want to be called no matter what reality actually is, then you think it's right to apply the wrong words to the wrong things. if we can call everything by something else, then communication becomes unusable and definitions lose their meaning. an attempt at communication turns into nothing. it's interesting how trying to break down the entire purpose of language is so useful! except, of course, for marginalized groups, who need effective communication the most.

i mean, must we really go back to the "what is a woman" question? perhaps we do, since you don't seem to acknowledge reality.

seeing women come out as nonbinary and then start just dressing a certain way. and I just want to tell them that you can not shave and have short hair and not wear makeup and wear androgynous clothes and still be a woman. and the fact that people are trying to sell you the idea that you can’t look that way and still be a woman is misogynistic

[lamiadrowned]

what if Jinx had an affectionate girlfriend? I want to assume Jinx is touch starved so having a girlfriend that loves cuddles and holding hands is a dream come true

*:･ﾟ✧ jinx with an affectionate girlfriend

jinx x fem!reader | sfw

i love her so much :(

it would take her a bit of time to get used to this dynamic.

her entire life, she’s never put much thought into relationships, nonetheless ever believed she’d end up in one, and she’s so happy she did!

especially with someone who seems to love her so deeply, despite how chaotic and difficult she can be at times.

the first few times you guys go out together, you’re always touching her, and she picks up on that quickly. you’re either holding her hand, fidgeting with her fingers, placing your arm around her waist, or playing with the loose strands of navy blue hair that frame her face.

she has no complaints. it makes her feel… warm. safe. appreciated.

but she doesn’t really think of reciprocating this until a small altercation between the two of you.

one day, you’re sitting on the edge of her workbench, listening intently as she shows you the scribbled blueprint of a new invention she’s working on. you can’t remember the name and you have no idea what any of it means, but you’re nodding like you understand so that she’ll keep talking.

“alright, what’s the problem? is it something i said?” she asks you suddenly.

you tilt your head. “what?”

“don’t play dumb! you haven’t touched me at all today!” she grumbles. “you’re always touching me. i mean, did i do something wrong? or–”

“jinx.” you cut her off firmly. “stop that. you didn’t do anything wrong.”

she looks stumped. so, you continue. “i don’t know. it’s just… you never do it to *me,* you know? it’s always me, touching you. i thought, maybe, you didn’t really like it. something tells me that’s not the case.”

your explanation is met with silence, and she stares at you like she’s seen a ghost.

she can’t believe you feel that way. this whole relationship thing is new to her! she had no idea her own self doubt could end up hurting you the way it did.

her first instinct is to apologize. to reassure you that, going forward, she’d be sure to give you as much as you give her, because she really does love the affection.

in no time, she’s just as cuddly as you!

each night that the two of you spend together is spent wrapped up in each other. legs crossed over legs, arms tangled with arms, faces pressed to chests with a constantly growing need to be closer to each other.

i saw somebody else post something about this, but she’d definitely be the type to say something like ‘i wish i could crawl inside you’. she truly can’t get close enough once she learns how good it feels.

and one of many good effects of this is that when she’s having a particularly bad day, you can calm her down in an instant.

if it happens to be one of many days where she’s hearing voices, seeing things that you can’t see, berating people who aren’t really there, all you need to do is put a hand on her shoulder to make her aware of your presence. it’s grounding enough that you can pull her into a tight hug and stroke her hair as she cries into your shoulder.

if it’s one of those days that she’s just angry, where she feels like everything is horrible and everyone else is rotten, you can change her mind in less than an hour by simply leading her to bed and convincing her to lay down for a bit while you undo her braids and scratch at her scalp.

when you play with her hair, it makes her melt, so you’re careful to preserve that effect– you only do it when you feel like she could really use it.

and as for you, if she finds out you’re having a bad day, jinx has learned from the best and she puts her knowledge to good use.

if you’re alone, she’ll pull you into her lap and caress your back, guiding you to rest your head in the crook of her neck because she knows how much you love to be there. if you want to talk about it, she’ll listen. if you don’t, she’ll pick a random topic to ramble about in hopes to take your mind off of things.

if you’re in public, she’ll grab your hand and squeeze it, stroking your palm with her thumb.

unless it’s somebody in particular that’s bothering you. she has no second thoughts about leaving you for a few minutes to go teach them a lesson. either way, the problem gets solved.

given how long she’s gone without any sort of physical affection, it’ll all be very new to her for a while, but jinx is a quick leaner.

sooner than later, your relationship starts to feel more like a constant competition over who’s more touchy and who can get the last kiss.

it’s so mushy! she hates it.

(she loves it).

[moraxine]

Fragments of Us [Ekko]

pairing: ekko x reader

words: 2k

summary: ekko wakes up in an alternate universe where you’re alive and everything feels right—but it’s not his world. torn between love and duty, he must leave to save his reality.

ARCANE SPOILERS!

i.

“Powder. Ugh, she’s so annoying sometimes. I told her that the graffiti on Sevika’s stupid bar wasn’t even that good—like, come on, who even uses pink for a skull?—and she just flipped out ! Called me a ‘wannabe artist.’ Like, okay?”

Ekko’s chest burns as he violently jolts awake, aware , coughing as if he’s been drowning moments before. His head is pounding, all memories flooding his mind and spinning round and round. It takes a few moments for his vision to stabilise and start clearing up.

What the hell happened?

“Hey, are you okay?”

Hearing your voice, familiar yet a voice he never thought his ears would detect ever again, he freezes. His eyes snap open, adjusting to the dim glow of the neon streetlamp. After a while of simply blinking, right hand on his forehead, he dares to turn your way, only to face you in utter shock.

There you are, right beside him, nervously fiddling with a small gadget in your hand while waiting for his answer.

Ekko’s breath gets caught in his throat.

His gaze desperately darts around, taking in the distorted version of Zaun. The buildings look eerily familiar but cleaner, more polished. And then there is you —alive, bright-eyed, rambling as if nothing in the world could ever go wrong.

This isn’t real. This can’t be real.

“You’re staring at me like I’ve got two heads or something. All good in there?” You ask, leaning closer as you gently tap his head.

No, no, no.

This must be some kind of twisted joke, a dream soon to turn into a nightmare, like the ones he experienced after your passing.

A strong wave of dizziness takes over and he loses balance. You’re not fast enough to catch him and he collapses on the floor, tears gleaming in his eyes.

“Shit, Ekko, I told you I’m fine walking home by myself! You need to focus on fixing that sleep schedule of yours. You work too much….”

You kneel down to check on him but as soon as you reach for his arm, he manages to pull himself up, wincing as his muscles protest. “I’m fine,” he mutters, his voice hoarse. “Just… where am I?”

Your brow furrows. “Zaun, duh. Did you hit your head?”

Zaun. But not his Zaun. This is different. Cleaner. Sharper. Brighter. Wrong.

You wave a hand in front of his face when he’s up on his feet again, snapping him out of his thoughts. “Seriously, you’re acting super weird.”

He shakes his head, trying to gather himself. “I’m… just tired.”

“Yeah, no shit,” you say, leaning back on your heels. “Well, you can sleep at my place if you want. It’s a bit of a mess, but it’s better than the middle of the street.”

“Why…Why are you helping me?”

I didn’t protect you. I let you die-

You scoff, crossing your arms. “You have to be kidding me, really.”

He stares at you, his chest tightening. You are so casual, so warm, so alive. This isn’t his world—it is someone else’s. Someone’s whom was able to keep you safe and happy.

You wave a hand in front of his face. “Helloooo? You good, or do I need to drag you there myself?”

He blinks, shaking himself out of his trance. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

“Finally,” you say grabbing his arm. “You’re lucky I’m such a good friend, y’know.”

As you lead him down the street, continuing your pointless rambling about Powder and some argument over graffiti, Ekko follows silently, his mind racing. He doesn’t belong here, but for the first time in years, being near you feels like he is home.

ii.

Ekko is standing in the corner of your cluttered workshop, his fingers trembling slightly as he tightens the final screws on a device he barely understands anymore. Weeks have been spent scavenging parts, tearing apart old tech, and sketching blueprints on scraps of paper. The machine is almost ready—his way out of this world is almost ready.

You, of course, don’t know. In fact, you seem to know nothing about Ekko lately. Ever since that incident outside the bar, he’s been acting strange in a way you can’t pinpoint.

“Hey, genius,” you call from across the room, pulling him out of his thoughts. You’re perched on a high stool, playing with a broken clock. “You’ve been staring at that thing for hours. What is it, anyway?”

He stiffens at your question, keeping his face carefully neutral. “Just… something to help me get around. It’s nothing.”

You narrow your eyes, unconvinced. “Since when do you get all secretive about your projects? You used to brag about your tech every chance you got.”

“Since now,” he mutters, avoiding your gaze.

It’s been this way for quite some time now—Ekko growing quieter, more distant, all while you try to bridge the gap with your usual chatter. You’ve noticed the way he avoids your eyes, the way he flinches whenever you stand too close. It’s not like him.

And it hurts.

“You’re acting weird, Ekko,” you admit, setting the clock down and leaning back on your hands. “Like, even weirder than usual. Did I do something?”

“No,” he says quickly, but his voice sounds strained, and the single word only makes you more assured that there is indeed something going on.

“Then what?” you press, leaning forward slightly. “You’ve been avoiding me for days. Is this about Powder? Because if so, she’s the one being difficult, not me.”

Ekko clenches his jaw, his hands tightening around the tool in his grip. He can’t tell you. You wouldn’t understand—not fully. How could he possibly explain that you’re not even supposed to be here? That this version of you isn’t his you? That in his world, you’re just a memory he carries like a scar?

“It’s nothing,” he says finally, his voice low. “Just… drop it, okay?”

You flinch at the coldness in his tone, but you force a laugh, trying to mask the sting. “Fine. Be mysterious, then. See if I care.”

Turning away, you pretend to focus on the clock again, but your heart isn’t in it. You want to push him, demand answers, but something in his expression stops you. There’s a pain in his eyes that you can’t quite place, and for the first time, you wonder if this is bigger than any conflict he might have had with people in the past.

Ekko exhales slowly, his shoulders sagging. He hates doing this—pushing you away. But if he lets you in, it’ll only make leaving harder.

Because he is leaving. As much as he wants to stay, to pretend this is his life, he knows it isn’t real. He doesn’t belong here. And the longer he stays, the harder it’ll be to say goodbye. Especially to you.

“Hey,” you say suddenly, breaking the silence. “For what it’s worth, you’re still my favorite nerd. Even if you’re being a jerk.”

He looks up at you, startled by the softness in your voice. For a moment, he wants to tell you everything—to explain why he can’t let himself get too close. To tell you he loves you. But that would be partially true as you’re not his. Instead, he just nods. “Thank you.”

You offer him a small yet warm smile and his resolve falters for a moment. But then his gaze falls on the machine again—his way out—and he reminds himself why he has to do this.

It’s almost done. Just a little longer.

iii.

Ekko stands in the middle of the workshop, his hand resting on the activation lever of the machine. The room hums faintly with power, the cobbled-together contraption sparking faintly as it waits for his final command. It’s ready. After days of work, this is it—it’s time to go back to the people who need him.

But his chest feels tight, and it’s not just from the lingering ache of exhaustion. It’s because of you.

The door creaks open, and his heart sinks. You’re standing there, your expression caught somewhere between confusion and anger. “What the hell is this?” you ask, stepping inside. “Ekko, what’s going on?”

He doesn’t look at you. He can’t. “It’s… nothing.”

“Nothing?” you snap, gesturing at the machine. “You’ve been shutting me out for God knows how long, and now I find you messing with… whatever this is you’ve made? Don’t lie to me, Ekko.”

He finally meets your eyes, and the raw emotion there almost makes him crumble. But he takes a deep breath and steadies himself. “I can’t explain it.”

You take a step closer, your frustration giving way to hurt. “Why? Why can’t you just tell me? I’m not mad—I just… I don’t understand why you’ve been acting like this.”

Ekko clenches his fists, his mind racing. He could tell you the truth—about the alternate universe, about the fact that you don’t even exist anymore in his world. But what good would it do?

“It’s better this way,” he replies quietly.

Your hands drop to your sides, and the look in your eyes nearly breaks him. “Better for who? For me? Or for you?”

“Y/n…” His voice cracks, but he quickly swallows it down. “I don’t belong here. I need to leave. That’s all I can say.”

You shake your head, your voice trembling. “You’re lying. You’ve been here all this fucking time, and now you’re just… leaving? Without a word?”

“I don’t have a choice.”

“Yes, you do!” you shout, stepping closer until you’re right in front of him. “Whatever this is, whoever you think you are—you’re my… friend, Ekko. You don’t just get to disappear without telling me why.”

His hands tremble as he reaches up to touch your shoulder, his gaze locked on yours. “You are—” His voice breaks, and he has to force himself to keep going. “You’re amazing. You’re… everything good about this place. You’re the reason I’m still alive. But I can’t stay.”

You stare at him, your heart pounding. His words feel final, and the weight of them crushes you completely. You fail to understand. Nothing makes sense, absolutely nothing. “Why?” you whisper, tears burning at the corners of your eyes. “Why can’t you stay? Is it something I did?”

“No!” he says, more forcefully than he means to. He takes your hands, holding them tightly. “It’s not you. It’s… me. It’s my world. I need to go back to where I came from.”

You can’t comprehend what he’s saying, but the desperation in his voice silences your questions. You nod, swallowing back the lump in your throat. “Fine,” you say, even though it’s anything but fine. “If you have to go… go.”

His hands linger on yours for a moment longer before he lets go. “I wish I could tell you how much you mean to me,” he says softly. “But I can’t. Not here.”

Tears spill over as you watch him turn back to the machine. “Will I ever see you again?” you ask, your voice barely audible.

He hesitates, his hand hovering over the lever. “I don’t know.”

That’s all he can give you.

With one last look at you, his expression filled with regret and longing, he pulls the lever. The machine sparks to life, and the air around him ripples with energy. You take a step back, shielding your eyes as the light grows blinding.

When the light fades, he’s there, his tired body slumped down on the ground. You immediately run to his side, kneeling down and pulling him to your lap. The room falls silent, the only sound the faint hum of the now blown up machine. You gently caress his cheek, tears running down your hot cheeks.

After a while, he wakes up.

And it doesn’t take you very long to realise.

You glance at the remains one last time.

And you hope that wherever he is, he’s doing what he set out to do—saving his people, his world, even if it meant leaving this one behind.

[xetlynn]

Arcane Imagines- Violet

Sweet and Sour

Requested by: @m0ranna "vi and a s/o who looks, seems and acts very soft but is actually a beast when fighting."

[arcane] [main page]

Summary: you and vi have been apart for some time, and when she sees you all the feelings come back.

“Hey, someone’s here for you.” Your only employee, Mexi says, you hum in response waving that you’re coming. You feel slightly grateful to stand up from your desk and be done with all the paperwork for just a moment. It’s been slow running Benzo’s old shop. Nobody has really come in, especially now with everything going on between Zaun and Piltover so money’s real tight.

 You walk out into the shop from behind the counter after your employee leads you there. You look up with crossed arms. “What can I do for you?” Asked with a fake interested tone.

“[Name]? You own the place now?” A familiar voice rings in your ears. Your eyes widened to look more clearly at your past friend/crush. “Violet?!” You jump over the counter, pulling her into a tight embrace. You hadn’t seen her since that horrible, idiotic heist that went so wrong. “Hey!” She holds you close to her, before pulling you back to get a better look at you. 

“You still have that sweet innocent look.” She whispers, pulling you into another hug. Taking in your scent as tears fills your eyes. “How did you get out?” You back away this time, holding onto her shoulders to make sure she doesn’t go away. “Uh, see that pilty officer out there.” She points to the dark haired lady standing outside the shop with her hands on her hips seemingly impatient. “Yeah?” 

“Her, I don’t know why but I’m not complaining.” Vi chuckles and you smile at her. “Want to invite her in?” It stuns her when you offer that, even Mexi was taken aback. She gets nervous, walking into the back so she doesn't have to speak to an officer. “Eh, she can experience the undercity a little more.” Vi waves it off, jumping onto the glass counter to sit down. 

“Looks the same in here.” She sadly sighs, browses the place. “Tried not to change it drastically. Benzo did a pretty good job.” You frown, thinking back to the man who was like a father to you. “Is Ekko…” 

“Nah, he’s doing his own thing now. Unfortunately it's the same with your sister.” You groan, reminding yourself of the blue-haired girl's antics with Silco. “Powder? What do you mean unfortunately?” Vi perks up. “She’s not really Powder anymore.” You start, hugging yourself as you think back to when Ekko begged you to fight with the fireflies. 

“Let’s talk about something else.” You pick up a random gadget, fidgeting with it in your left hand. “How’s the free life?” 

“I want to talk about Powder.” Vi gets off the counter, walking towards you. “Vi, no. You’ll find out on your own. I really don’t want to get into this.” You tell her simply, pleading silently with your facial expression. She wants to argue with you, beg for you to say more but she can’t. Not when your eyes are full of fear and sadness. You’ve always been so sweet-looking. So kind to people, giving them the benefit of the doubt. Which is rare in the undercity. It’s also stupid to most. 

“Okay, okay. I- I don’t know, I’ve only been free for a few hours. This was the first place I went to.” She averts eye contact now. “Hm, I’m the first person you wanted to see, huh?” You joke, there wasn’t really any other option sadly. “Of course.” Vi smirks, nudging your arm. 

“I’ve missed you.” You turn to her, pulling her into another hug. “I don’t want to let go of you. It’s like you’re going to disappear at any moment.” You whimper out, trying not to cry. Vi’s face softens, kissing the top of your head. “I promise I’m not leaving again.” Her hands go to your waist just letting you cling onto her. 

“I’ll kill you before you get the chance to leave me.” You say, causing her to scoff out a laugh. The door bells go off and you both let each other go to see that officer standing there. 

“Sorry to interrupt, Officer Caitlyn Kiramman.” She bows down to you before looking at Vi. “We should get going, I have important things to get to.” 

You raise a brow on why Vi needs to go with this lady so badly. Vi sighs. “Give me a moment.” She tells the officer whose face contorts into an annoyed expression. “I’ve given you quite a few moments to reunite with your girlfriend here.” Cait spits out, obviously very antsy to get where she needs to be. The both of you awkwardly glance at one another now with flushed faces.

“Uh, it’s alright. I’ll see you later Vi.” You chuckle, taking her hand in yours. “There’s a fight in that one arena we used to go to behind Vander and Benzo’s back. It’s huge and you should come. Just like old times.” You propose to her, your face full of hope that she agrees to come. 

“You can bring your bodyguard too.” You tease making her playfully roll her eyes. Cait tries to bite back a smile at the joke. “I’ll be there. I promise.” Vi squeezes your hand before letting go. “It’s at the usual time as well, I hope you remember.” You tell her as she leaves with the girl. “Oh I remember!” Vi calls back. 

When the door shuts behind them and the bells still ring in your ears you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. Mexi comes out of hiding. “You two are dating?” She asks curiously. You choke on your spit. “Huh?” 

“Well the officer said you were her girlfriend and neither one of you denied it.” She shrugs her shoulders, taking out her box of things to put away. “Oh, I mean we had a small thing as children but I haven’t seen her in 7 years. I’m sure she doesn’t think about me that way.” You ramble, putting the gadget back that forgot you were holding. 

“I don’t know. The way she looked at you says otherwise.” Mexi winks, your face heats up. “Whatever.” You mutter, going back behind the counter and heading into the back to finish the paperwork you had. 

•••

Vi and Caitlyn rummage through the crowd of people, trying to find you. “I don’t know if we’re going to find her before the fight!” Cait shouts over the yelling and the music that blasted. “I’m gonna try!” Violet huffs, shoving past all the people, getting to the front where maybe she could spot you on the other side of the arena. Her eyes traveled through the sea of moving bodies. “C’mon.” She mutters to herself. She didn’t want you to think she didn’t come. She had only made it five minutes before the fight even started because of what Cait and her had to do. 

“Ladies and Gentlemen!!!” The announcer screams into the mic, only making everyone louder with their cheers. As he speaks, Vi only zones everything out, trying her hardest not to panic when attempting to find you. 

“Isn’t that her?” Cait points down into the arena with eyebrows scrunched together. Vi’s eyes shoot down to see you standing there against a large woman. “Shit, what’s she doing!?” Violet urgently asks, gripping onto Caitlyn. “I think she’s about to fight.” 

Vi gives her a dirty look, giving her attention back to the scene in front of her right as the announcer starts the fight. The woman attempts to attack you but you swerve out of the way. You look up to see Vi and Caitlyn. You blow them a kiss before turning to the woman and throwing a punch. 

The lady doesn’t dodge it in time, getting hit right in the eyebrow. She tries to throw hits at you but you maneuver around them, hitting her in the right places to cause her to stumble. Vi leans over the edge, now cheering for you. “Kick her ass!” She shouts. Even Caitlyn was amazed at your fighting skills. She wasn’t expecting that from someone so… cute and sweet looking. 

You swiped the lady's feet out from right under her. Going in for the punches. The larger lady attempts to push you away with no avail. 

But when she sees an opening after multiple hits to the face she shoves you off of her. Getting herself up. You roll away, jumping to your feet, you weren’t paying attention when she gets a hit to the middle of your face. Violet gasps, nails digging into Caitlyn’s arm. The dark blue haired girl doesn’t pay attention though. 

You spit out blood, wiping your mouth before going after the woman with more passion than before. Looking like a beast in the ring. You go right for her head, only taking a few hits for her to be back on the ground. 

Not even five minutes into the fight and you win. Leaving her knocked out. 

The announcer commentates as the crowd goes wild. Violet listens to all the people saying how little miss [Name] out there is undefeated. “Holy shit.” Cait whispers. You pump your fists into the air, jumping around for yourself. You have blood guzzling down your nose but you’re having a blast with the attention. You look up, locking eyes with Vi who has a look of bewilderment. You chuckle then motion with your head to the exit doors. She immediately understands what you’re saying. “Meet me at her shop, I’ll see you later.” Violet places a hand on Caitlyn’s shoulder before pushing through the crowd.

You and Vi used to sneak and see the fighters in the back frequently as children. Not to meet them or anything but just to say you were in the same room as them. Even then it was kept a secret between you both. 

She sneaks through the men guarding the doors and slips into the very first room she can. Hands snake around her from behind. “Hey!” You scare her, making her jump away from you. She turns with her fists up in defense. You roar into laughter, mimicking her stance. She pouts from being made fun off and smacks your arm. “Why didn’t you tell me you were fighting?! I didn’t even know you could do all that!” She exclaims as you grin. 

“I wanted it to be surprising! Wasn’t I so amazing out there?” You lift your arms, flexing your muscles. “Yeah but honestly I did not see that coming from someone so… adorable?” She tilts her head as she tries to find the right word to call you.

 “Awe I’m adorable?” You poke her side, heading over to the full body mirror in the room, taking the wraps off your hands. “I mean, you’ve always been pretty cute. Like y’know sweet looking. I’ve never seen you even hurt someone!” she maundered, speaking with her hands flailing trying to explain what she meant with bright red ears. 

“Desperate times call for desperate measures. I don’t exactly enjoy being some beast fighter but it pays the bills.” You lean against the little table beside the mirror. Staring off into space at Vi’s shoes. “The shop not doing good?” Vi asks. “It’s seen better days. I have enough for everything except paying Mexi but I’m not letting her go. She’s helped way too much for me to do that.” You sigh, thinking about the young worker who you practically took under your wing. 

“So you risk yourself so you don’t have to fire just one person.” She quizzes and you go to defend your actions but she just snickers. “Gosh you really are too sweet for your own good, [Name]. I love you so much.” She holds her stomach as she laughs. Amused by how kind you are. “You love me?” You attempt to tease her but her face drops, realising what she said. “I mean, yeah! I’ve been in love with you since we were kids.” She speaks so nonchalantly it catches you off guard. When she said she loved you, you thought of it as a family thing. Not romantic. You weren’t upset but your mind was spiraling now. 

“I’m sorry if it’s too much. I don’t even know if you have a partner already or something. I’ve been gone for so long I just. I’ve never stopped thinking about you even though we were only 15.” She over-explains, and you go up to her, putting a finger to her lips. “I love you too, Violet. I wasn’t kidding when I said I missed you.” You tell her earnestly, your hand going to her cheek. 

Her shoulders drop, relieved by your words. “Oh thank god, I thought I had just scared you or something. I feel so stupid.” You shush her with a small laugh. “I forgot how much you talk when you’re nervous.” You whisper as she plants her forehead on yours. “I only do it with you.” She shamefully admits. 

“Mm, really?” You ask before locking your lips on hers. She moans into the kiss, deepening it by bringing you closer to her. The kiss was rough, making up for lost time. Wandering hands over one another's bodies. 

When you pull apart you grin, throwing your arms over her shoulders. “We're dating.” You state, not asking but telling her. She shakes her head. “I didn’t know that.” 

“Well you do now.”

 You peck her lips. 

•••

Time passes and Vi comes into the shop whenever she can, you let Mexi watch over so the both of you can go out. Always in cute light colored clothes in such a dark place. 

People never understood how you were so bubbly, giving to others and dancing in the middle of Zaun. 

Violet loved it, watching as a street performer played and you danced to music. Children joining you. Even a few adults. It was these moments the undercity needed. A little distraction from the horrors about to come. 

You’d have these sweet moments everyday and then night comes and you’re in people's nightmares. Fighting to pay the bills you said. Fighting to win and prove you’re more than what others call a weak minded, overly nice girl. And Vi’s there to support her girl through it all. 

Loving every second. 

[zigrethsnotebook]

How do you manage to make even the most mundane things sound exciting?

Ford x Reader

words: 3,154

tags: sfw, hurt and comfort

a/n: this was the only note i made for myself before writing this: hnghnghng this is about moths now so yeah... enjoy:)

It's been a whole year. The twins are back from their sea adventure and the kids are staying with them for the summer again. You were on your way over to the shack. Stan had written you a letter, inviting you over. He said it'd be nice to catch up, tell you and the kids all about their time at sea and that way they wouldn't have to tell the stories twice.

The stories weren't the only thing you were excited for. Before they had left Stan had encouraged you to confess to Ford, insisting that his brother felt the same for you as you did for him. But when you told him he just went silent for way too long.

"Ford?" A nervous chuckle escaped you. "Please say something?" He looked into your eyes, his gaze blank and unreadable. "I'm sorry." The words felt like a dagger to your heart. "F-for what?" You at least wanted him to have the balls to say that he doesn't care for you. "I don't see a romantic relationship between us having a future. Especially with Stan and I going out to sea tomorrow. I'm sorry."

You just nodded, taking the words in. "...This didn’t ruin what we have, did it? Will we still be friends when you get back?" Your voice was small, afraid of his answer. "I'll always be your friend." A sigh of relief. The idea of him not being a part of your life had been the reason you didn’t want to confess to him in the first place. You only did it because Stan was so convincing that he reciprocated your feelings. Turns out you were both wrong.

You shook your head, breaking yourself out of the bad memory. After almost an entire year, you had come to terms with it. Now, you were just excited to see your friend again. Excited to have a normal conversation with him again.

Back in the shack the Family was preparing everything. The kids and Soos got the snacks and drinks ready while the Twins were busy starting the campfire. Stan watched as Ford poked around in the fire. He shook his head.

"I'll never understand it." Ford looked up at his brother. "I'll never understand how someone as smart as you could let go of the person who would have been the best thing in his life." Ford sighed. They had had this talk before.

It was pretty much the only thing they talked about the first week at sea. Stan would also bring it up anytime a night on the boat was too long and too quiet.

"We have nothing in common... That and our lifes are way too dangerous, I can't bring another person with me." He saw the disapproving look on Stan's face. "It's not like I have anything to offer. I've spent my whole life buried in books and research. I don't know how to be in a relationship."

Stan scoffed at that. "What are you talking about, Sixer? You're a catch! Times change, Nerds are the new Jocks. There's a reason I was the second choice for most of the babes we met." A bittersweet chuckle escaped Stan.

Ford sighed, focusing on the fire again. "It doesn't matter anyway. Even if I wanted to try again, I highly doubt that they're still single." Now that was something Stan couldn't counter. Mainly because it's something he hadn't even considered. You were so head-over-heels for Ford the last time you and Stan talked, it just didn’t seem likely that you'd go looking for someone else.

The kids and Soos came outside, carrying marshmallows, crackers, chocolate and Soda. Dipper was the first to sit down on one of the logs. "I can't wait to hear of all the creatures you found! It must have been awesome!"

"You bet!" Stan grinned at the boy. "But we won't start with the stories yet, someone is still missing." Ford looked at his brother suspiciously. "What are you talking about, Stanley?" At the same time Mabel's eyes widened. "Are you saying we get to see-" She was cut off as Stan stood up and called out your name, announcing your arrival.

You smiled sheepishly and greeted everyone. The kids were super excited to see you again and Mabel ran over to hug you. You hadn't realized how much you missed them. When she let go of you she practically dragged you over to the campfire. Stan, who was still standing, hugged you as well.

"It's good to see ya again, toots." You chuckled. "I missed you, too, Stan." You broke the hug and turned to Ford who made no effort to get up or anything along those lines. Instead, you just waved at him, but gave him the same fond smile you had shown the others. "The same goes for you, Ford."

Behind you, Stan frowned at his brother, obviously disappointed at the lack of enthusiasm he showed you. He quickly put on a smile as he addressed you again. "Please, take a seat! We were just about to begin with our stories."

You sat down between Stan and Soos, who just greeted you with a simple "Hey dude". You two had become friends over the course of the last year.

Soon everyone had prepared a stick with a marshmallow and held it over the fire while Stan told the most extravagant stories of their travels. You were glued to his every word, his storytelling being how you two became friends in the first place.

You were so engrossed in the stories that you didn’t notice the way Ford looked at you. He adored you. The way the warm light of the fire illuminated your features perfectly. The way your eyes seemed to sparkle with pure joy as Stan talked about heroically fighting off some beasts. Hell, he loved you.

This wasn't news to him, of course. Ford had known this for over a year. In fact, when you confessed your feelings for him, he wanted to hug you, kiss you, propose to you on the spot. But he didn’t. Because he felt like he wasn't enough.

Ford felt like he didn’t deserve happiness after almost ending the world and he knew that he would achieve it if he let himself be with you.

Back then, after you had left, Ford had told Stan about the whole thing, who took him by the shoulders and shook him, asking him if he was insane. The next day, when they were about to leave, you had stopped by to say goodbye to Stan, but refused to speak to Ford, politely making up a reason why you had to leave again.

It had crushed him. Ford wanted to sprint after you, turn you around and kiss you all dramatically like in the movies. But he didn’t. Because he had hurt you already and didn’t dare to make it even worse.

Which, of course, had made it worse anyway. The way you had parted ways meant that you were left all alone with a broken heart. And you couldn't even talk to your best friend about it because he was on the same boat as Ford.

But now, as Ford looked at you again, he felt all the feelings he had been trying to bury beneath the ocean floor bubble back up again.

"And that is how Ford and I defeated the mighty Kraken!" Stan was standing, his hands raised to the sky in triumph. All of you cheered and clapped your hands. It was so good to hear his gruff voice and exaggerated stories again. Although, you were more inclined to believe him this time.

The evening went on with more stories, smores and lots of laughter. You were so relieved to have them back in your life again, all four of them. You had missed them more than you realized.

Eventually, it turned late and the kids began to get sleepy. The fire had also died down. In a joined effort you all cleaned the place back up, bringing the rest of the snacks and drink back inside the shack.

After putting more things on the kitchen table for Stan and the kids to put away you went outside again to see if there was anything else to get. Soos came your way and you held the door open for him as you stepped outside.

Ford was still there. "That's everything. Soos took the last of it." You nodded. "Neat." You were about to step back inside again when you felt Ford's energy shift to a more energetic one. He pointed to the porch light.

"Look at that! That's a Tyria jacobaeae! I haven't seen one of these in ages. A beautiful creature, just look at the markings on its wings, the bright red color..." Ford looked at the moth in awe and when you stepped closer you realized why.

The little black and red creature truly was stunning. But if Ford hadn't pointed it out then you never would have noticed it. "It is really pretty. But there is no way I'm gonna remember a latin name for anything." You chuckled lightly as you said it.

Ford hummed in acknowledgement. "Well, it is more commonly known as the Cinnabar Moth. Cinnabar, like the mineral, of course, because of its striking color. It wards off predators, letting them know that they're toxic."

You instinctively took a step back and Ford chuckled at your reaction. "There is nothing for you to worry about unless you plan to eat the little guy." You rubbed the back of your neck sheepishly. "Haha, no. Doesn't really fit my diet." Ford and you shared a laugh together.

Another, considerably larger, moth joined the other one at the lamp. This one was bright white and yellow with little black dots on its wings. Ford nodded knowingly as he spotted it. "Estigmene acrea. The Salt Marsh Moth. Very pretty, but did you know that these little guys aren't very well liked around here?"

Even though it was a rhetorical question you shook your head 'no' and sat down on the couch Stan kept on the porch, letting Ford lecture you. He quickly sat down next to you as he continued. "They feed on most crops which means that farmers have to be on the lookout for them around this time."

God, how you had missed this. Just hanging out with Ford, letting him tell you all about a subject he was passionate about was one of your favorite things in the world.

Your gaze shifted from the Moths in front of you to Ford's face as he kept on talking about the little creatures. You didn’t try to keep the look of adoration off your face as you watched him animatedly explain the differences in their wingspans.

Eventually, he noticed your staring and turned his eyes to you, stuttering his speech to a halt. You chuckled fondly. "How do you manage to make even the most mundane things sound exciting?" He laughed and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

"You just have to open your eyes and learn to find beauty in the mundane. That way you won't ever be bored again." As if on its own your body leaned towards him. You quickly stopped yourself. He rejected you once, you didn’t need to go through that again. Ford hadn't noticed.

You forced your eyes away from his and toward the moths again with a sigh. "The only times I haven't felt any boredom were the days I spent with you last year." A tight feeling settled in your chest as you spoke the words, but you couldn't stop yourself. "And today, of course."

You tried to keep your tone casual, your voice light. Ford felt an ache in his heart. He wanted you to never be bored again, show you the world through his eyes. Show you how he saw you.

"Surely you weren't bored every day of this past year, right? I bet you went on at least one interesting date?" He tried to keep his tone equally casual. Tried to keep the desperation out of his voice.

You snorted. "Yeah, right. Who'd wanna date me?" "I would." You froze. Surely you had misheard him? You turned to look at Ford again, his expression was... honest?

You frowned. "I'm not in the mood for jokes, Ford." You stood and turned, about to walk away. Ford grabbed your wrist, stopping you. "Who's laughing?" You pressed your eyes shut and stayed with your back to Ford, unable to look at him.

"I just got over you. Don't make me go through all of that again." Ford felt his heart shatter in his chest. "I am so sorry." He paused, trying to find the right words. "I was a selfish asshole. And you deserved so much better. You still deserve someone so much better than me."

Ford took a deep breath, still holding tightly onto your wrist. He couldn't let you go until you knew the truth. "I, on the other hand, don't deserve your forgiveness. Hell," A bitter laugh escaped him, "it took Stan a whole year to convince me that maybe I deserve to be happy sometimes at all, even though I almost caused the world to end."

He took a shaky breath, tears pricking at his eyes. But he wasn't done yet. "I spent the whole year regretting every word I said to you that day. Because... what I didn’t have the guts to tell you then is... I love you."

Ford stared at the back of your head, looking for any movement at all that could give away how you felt about his words. But you didn’t move for a moment, didn’t spare him a glance. Without a word, you flexed your arm and pulled hard, tearing your wrist from his grip.

You walked away from him and the shack without turning back. Ford was in shambles, his legs trembling and tears flowing freely. He wouldn't have been able to follow you.

Stan and the kids had watched the whole thing unfold from one of the windows, being attracted to the sudden noise like moths to the light. Now they stood shocked, with their jaws on the floor.

Back at home you threw your shoes and jacket in a corner before collapsing onto your bed. You were angry at Ford for treating you like that, playing with your emotions for over a year. Slowly, it settled in that Ford had just confessed his love to you.

After a year of thinking he didn’t want you that way, it left your emotions all over the place. Angry, sad and with a weird feeling of relief you cried yourself to sleep.

A soft knock to your window woke you up again. It was still dark outside. It was a big window that led to a balcony. You stepped in front of it and pulled the curtains back, revealing Ford. He looked like a kicked puppy, making it impossible for you to ignore him.

You opened the window and stepped outside to him. "What do you want, Ford?" He cringed at your harsh tone of voice. "I came to apologize... again. I know I hurt you. I know I behaved all wrong. And I'm sorry." He looked up into your eyes.

"I don't expect you to fall into my arms or anything like that. You're over me and that's fine. I won't try to win you back. I-I just wanted to be honest... but, maybe that made it worse again..." Ford shook his head, starting to pace around in front of you.

You took a deep breath. It was time to just let go of your anger and instead seize the moment while you had the chance. "Ford." He turned to look at you with big, hopeful eyes. "I'm not over you."

He took a step closer as you continued. "I thought I was. But everything that happened tonight... everything you said... I still love you." You locked eyes with him and you could see the relief flooding through him as he let out the breath he was holding.

Silence washed over the both of you, neither sure how to proceed. But the silence wasn't uncomfortable either.

The dull moonlight cast a blue hue over the both of you. You looked up at Ford's hair, admiring the way the light made it glow, when a little winged creature landed on his perfect hair. A smile crept on your face and you raised your eyebrow along with your hand to his hair.

Carefully, you held your hand out to the creature, offering your finger to sit on. Ford stayed quiet and you urged him not to move too much with one hand on his chest. The animal took your offer and when you felt every one of its six legs on your finger you brought your hand back down.

You held the little moth between you two. Its wings were light-blue with dark tips. Ford smiled at the creature. "Lomographa semiclarata or Bluish Spring Moth." He put one of his hands under yours, making you both hold it together.

"Did you know that in a more spiritual sense, moths often symbolize transformation and are generally considered as a good omen?" You looked up from the moth and smiled softly at him. "Is that so?" You let the hand you still held on his chest wander upwards to his neck.

Ford nodded lightly. "They represent positive conclusions." You let out a content breath, accidentally startling the moth into flight. Both of you followed the creature with your eyes. "...And sometimes death."

You laughed and lightly swatted him on the chest with your now free hand. "You better not die on me, Ford." He placed one of his hands on top of yours that was now on his chest and the other one on your waist, pulling you closer. "I wouldn't dare."

Ford slowly moved his face closer to yours, giving you plenty of time to back away in case you didn’t want what was about to happen. But why wouldn't you, this is the moment you spent an entire year dreaming about!

You let your eyes flutter shut and soon enough felt Ford's lips on yours. They were softer than you imagined, making you smile slightly into the kiss. You moved your lips against his in a way that felt just right. Like this was how it was always supposed to be.

Ford sighed into the kiss, finally relaxing and letting himself enjoy the moment. This was the kiss you would remember forever. Especially because he would immortalize it in his journal first thing tomorrow morning.

When you both parted you felt like you were floating. You rested your head on Ford's shoulder, just enjoying finally being able to hold him like this.

"Positive conclusion, indeed."

[fratttymatty]

Remade

(All characters are 18+)

Zach Turner had always been the type of guy who found comfort in books, video games, and the occasional comic book convention. At 18, he was a senior in high school, a quiet, nerdy, and undeniably gay young man. He lived in the small world of his thoughts and interests, often accompanied by his best friend, Cassie.

Cassie was everything Zach wasn’t: confident, popular, and unashamedly ambitious. They’d known each other since middle school, and she had always been the type of person to look out for Zach, even if her attentions were often a little too intense. Their friendship had always been platonic—or so Zach had thought.

One evening, when Zach was deep into his latest role-playing game, he got a text from Cassie.

Cassie: “I’ve got a surprise for you tonight. It’s important. Be at my house at 8:00 sharp. Don’t be late.”

Zach, curious but not thinking much of it, agreed. After all, Cassie had a flair for the dramatic, and he was used to her pulling pranks or making grandiose plans that never quite panned out.

But that night was different.

When Zach arrived at Cassie’s house, he found the lights dimmed and a strange, almost eerie atmosphere. Cassie, dressed in a sleek black outfit, was waiting for him in the living room, a small, mysterious device in her hands.

“Cassie?” Zach said, looking around nervously. “What’s going on?”

“You’ll see soon enough,” she replied, her voice unnervingly calm.

Without any warning, Cassie pulled out the device and pointed it at him. Zach barely had time to react before the world around him seemed to blur, and everything turned dark.

When Zach woke up, he felt strange. His body was heavy, as though he had been asleep for hours, but there was an unnatural weight to it. His chest felt tight, and he groggily blinked his eyes open.

Cassie stood in front of him, a satisfied smile on her face.

“Well, well. You’re awake,” she said, her voice dripping with a mixture of amusement and triumph. “Let’s begin.”

Zach tried to sit up, but found himself restrained. He looked down at his body—his limbs, his torso. Something was wrong. He felt... different. His fingers, once delicate and pale, were now broad, tanned, and muscular. His whole body had an unfamiliar strength to it.

“Cassie,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “What did you do to me?”

“I’m making you perfect,” Cassie replied simply. “The boyfriend I’ve always wanted. You’ve always been my best friend, Zach, but I’ve realized something: you’re not quite what I need. You’re too... soft.”

Zach’s heart pounded in his chest. “What do you mean? This isn’t me, Cassie! I don’t want this!”

“You don’t have a choice,” she said coldly, before flicking a switch on the device.

A surge of energy washed over Zach, and before he could protest, his body began to change in ways he couldn’t comprehend. His limbs elongated and thickened with muscle. His once pale skin darkened to a rich bronze, and his face began to reshape—his jawline sharpening, his cheekbones rising, his eyes shifting to a deeper brown.

Zach cried out, but the sound that escaped his lips wasn’t his own. It was a deeper, more masculine tone.

“What the hell is happening to me?” he gasped, trying to tug at the restraints, but he was too weak. His entire body felt alien to him, as though it belonged to someone else.

“Just relax,” Cassie said, brushing his hair back from his forehead. “It’s all part of the process. You’ll get used to it. This is who you’re meant to be.”

Zach couldn’t understand what was happening. It wasn’t just his body that was changing. His mind seemed to be slipping as well—like his thoughts were becoming clouded with confusion, slowly overtaken by the growing sense of strength, dominance, and something else—something he hadn’t felt before.

“Cassie, please,” he begged. “You can’t do this!”

“I can, and I will,” she said with a flick of her wrist. “You’re the perfect foundation. I’m just making you the perfect guy for me. You’re going to be everything I want in a boyfriend.”

Zach’s panic grew as she activated the device again. His body buckled, and with each passing second, it morphed more into something he didn’t recognize. His muscles swelled, his shoulders broadening, his chest growing more defined.

But it wasn’t just his appearance that changed. He could feel it—the shift in his mind. His thoughts, once filled with video games, books, and a quiet, nerdy existence, were starting to fade. In their place were thoughts of power, sports, and girls—Cassie, in particular. He was becoming someone else entirely.

And then, a strange sensation began at the top of his head. His hair. He could feel it shifting, like something pulling at it from the roots. His thick curls—once unruly and wild—began to flatten, the familiar texture becoming straighter and sleeker by the second.

It was as if his hair itself was being reshaped, straightened, darkened. The soft curls he had always worn with pride now transformed into a neat, short, dark brown mane that laid perfectly against his scalp. The thickness remained, but now the texture was different—smooth, sleek, and controlled. His hair fell just above his forehead in a stylish, masculine cut that complemented the broadness of his face.

He reached up, instinctively running his fingers through his hair. It was... perfect. His new hair felt like it was made for him, as if it had always been this way.

When the transformation finally ceased, Zach—no, not Zach anymore—looked at himself in the mirror Cassie had placed in front of him.

Gone was the skinny, pale, awkward white boy he had been. In his place stood a tall, athletic Latino young man, with broad shoulders, defined muscles, and a confident, cocky grin on his face. His eyes, once soft and nerdy, now gleamed with a sense of self-assurance, and his name... it wasn’t Zach anymore.

Cassie’s grin widened. “Meet your new self. This is Alejandro. Your perfect self.”

Zach—Alejandro—barely registered his former name as it left her lips. He looked at himself in the mirror, and for the first time, he didn’t feel out of place. He felt right. His old self, the timid, shy boy, seemed like a distant memory—one that he no longer cared about. The nerdy, insecure parts of him were gone, replaced by someone confident, strong, and desirable.

Cassie stepped forward, her fingers brushing over his now chiseled chest. “You’re perfect,” she said. “Now, we can finally be together. The way it was always meant to be.”

Alejandro didn’t object. He didn’t feel the need to. Everything that once mattered—the books, the games, the quiet life—was far behind him. His mind was entirely focused on Cassie, on the life they could have, the adventures they could share. His identity was new, but it felt like it had always been him.

And as he looked down at Cassie, he smiled, his heart pounding with excitement.

Yes. This was who he was meant to be.

[bloomzone]

Feeling Overwhelmed? You're Not Alone. Let's Talk About It..

I know we all go through it. You’re balancing school, friends, family, and everything else, and suddenly, it feels like you're carrying the weight of the world. Lately, I've been feeling burned out, overwhelmed, and like everything is piling up at once. With school stress, exams, and the constant pressure to keep up, I sometimes feel like I can’t breathe. It's exhausting, and I'm sure some of you feel the same.

It’s so easy to get stuck in the cycle of trying to do everything perfectly. Every time you think you’ve got it under control, something else comes at you, and you’re back to square one and YES THIS IS ANNOYING!!!. It's like there’s a never-ending list of things to do, and no matter how hard you work, you never seem to catch a break.

And the worst part? The pressure from others. Whether it's friends, classmates, or even family, there's always someone asking you for help. Sometimes I feel like I’m the go-to person for everything—assignments, questions, last-minute requests. And don’t get me wrong, I want to be helpful, but it can get draining. Especially when you're trying to hold it together and just need a little space for yourself

For example:Today I couldn’t catch a break already stressed about exams, and in desperate need of rest. Just as I sat down to breathe, the calls and messages started.

One of my classmates began spamming me with messages, asking about a history and geography exam date that we ALL already knew. Then, another classmate began asking for English assignment answers. She wouldn’t stop. She kept sending, “Hi, hi, hi, hi…” over and over until I caved and responded.When I finally sent her the answers, her response? “Ahh, what would I do without you? You’re a lifesaver!” And while I know she meant it kindly, it felt so heavy I feel guilty. What about MY life? What about my peace?

In that moment, I realized how much I was giving to others and how little I was leaving for myself. I was pouring all my energy into helping everyone else while I was running on empty

And plus I’ve been in those moments when you’ve studied hard for an exam, thought you’re finally catching up, and then suddenly—a change happens. A test gets rescheduled, an assignment gets pushed to the last minute, and it feels like everything you worked for was just... wasted. I get it. And it’s okay to feel frustrated and angry about it. You’re allowed to feel this way. It doesn’t make you weak, it makes you human.

But here’s something I’ve been reminding myself lately: I am not responsible for everyone else's stress. It’s okay to say no, it’s okay to take a break, and it’s okay to not always have everything figured out. Taking care of yourself isn’t selfish; it’s necessary.

Here 5 Tips That Are Helping Me Cope with Stress and Burnout

1. Set Boundaries and Protect Your Energy: I’ve learned that it’s okay to say no. If someone’s asking for help, and you’re already feeling stretched thin, it’s okay to tell them, “I can’t right now.” You can’t pour from an empty cup, and you deserve your time and energy as much as anyone else does.

2. Don’t Overload Yourself—Take It One Step at a Time: Break your tasks into smaller, more manageable chunks. Don’t try to do everything at once—focus on one thing at a time. It makes the workload feel less daunting and more achievable. One task, one hour at a time.

3. Rest is Not a Luxury, It’s a Necessity: Sometimes we push ourselves too hard because we think we’ll get behind if we take a break. But if you don’t rest, you’ll burn out. Give yourself permission to step away, even for just 10 minutes. Watch a comforting youTube video, take a walk, or close your eyes. A little time for yourself can give you the energy to come back even stronger.

4. Talk About Your Feelings—Don't Bottle It Up: If you’re feeling overwhelmed, don’t keep it inside. Talk to someone, whether it’s a friendu trust family member, or even just writing in a journal like I do ..Putting your feelings into words can make a huge difference. It clears your mind and helps you see things from a new perspective.

5. Make Time for Self-Care: It’s easy to forget to take care of yourself when everything is going wrong. But self-care isn’t just about face masks and bubble baths (although that helps!). It’s about doing things that recharge you—reading, listening to music, or even just doing nothing. Find what makes you feel lighter and make time for it.

Let’s Take the Pressure Off Ourselves.

I know the world often tells us we have to be constantly productive, constantly moving forward. But the truth is, you don’t have to hustle all the time. It’s okay to slow down, take a breather, and focus on your well-being. The world will still be there when you're ready to take the next step. You are not a machine pookie. You are human, and you deserve peace.We’re not alone in this, even though it sometimes feels like we are. Everyone’s going through something, and sometimes just knowing that you’re not alone in your struggles can make a huge difference.Remember, it’s okay to not have it all together. It’s okay to be tired, to feel burnt out, to not always know what’s next. Life is hard, but you’re still here, still fighting, and that’s something to be proud of. I'm so proud of you

© bloomzone

[itshermocrates]

Some thoughts on Vander and Silco's relationship

I already talked about this when Arcane S1 first came out, but now that the show is over and we got to see a different reality where everyone has a good ending (except for Vi I guess) I want to bring back my Silco x Vander thoughts

So yeah, vanco ?? silder ??? post

Even if in Arcane S1 there’s some sort of parallel between Jinx/Powder and Silco + Vi and Vander, in my eyes those two were made for an old man yaoi story

Now that we have seen Jayvik’s evolution and that glimpse of them together in a “better future”, I realized that Vander and Silco (+ Felicia) could have something similar to what was happening initially with Jayce and Viktor (+ Mel)

Two best friends working together for a common cause, one hopelessly in love with the other while his partner can’t see ―or doesn’t want to recognize― his own feelings. Since I already have a Jayvik analysis in my drafts, I’m going to focus on Silco and Vander

This will be half a theory - half a fic + I also posted this on BlueSky so yeah, if you see it there it was also me lol

[Pinning, Unrequited love and love confessions that go wrong ahead]

I think Silco and Vander were the perfect duo back in their youth, together they had the brains and the strength, using both charm and cold logic to make people eager to follow them. What Silco lacked, Vander was able to provide and vice versa. Together they were the greatest leaders Zaun could ever ask for.

They not only completed each other like two puzzle pieces, but also shared a bond that had been nurtured since childhood. They had been facing hardships and Piltover’s aggressions since they were little kids, so it was natural that the years of friendship brought them impossibly close.

Some even said that they could have entire conversations without exchanging a single word.

At some point Silco developed a crush on Vander, how could he not? Despite his strength and sometimes scary appearance, Vander had always been the big sunshine boy who was looking after him. That urge to protect and take care of others seemed to be part of his very essence, and if someone benefited from this, it was his best friend.

Of course, they needed to fight and get dirty in the deepest hellholes of Zaun, but even when Vander got his knuckles drenched in blood, Silco could only see the kind man with bright eyes and a dream for a better life that Vander truly was.

Silco really thought that this new beginning for them was only possible because Vander was there with him, since when hope seemed completely lost, when the circumstances took another member of their little family, Vander always remained firm in his stance. They would find a way, they would fight back, they would keep pushing forward and they wouldn’t stop until they finally had the future they deserved.

Oh, wasn’t he convincing? Always the beacon in their times of need, who else could lead them out of their misery?

Vander’s kindness was disarming, and his light was so bright that Silco couldn’t help but fall in love with him. He loved him so deeply it made him feel sick, but he could do nothing about it. Vander had been in love with Felicia for almost as long as Silco had loved him, and even if she wasn’t really interested in him, there was no way that man could get over his emotions.

Just like Silco himself couldn’t make his own feelings go away. He pinned for years, forcing himself to hide how he felt so nothing changed between them and he didn’t lose his best friend. He had to protect their friendship, but, above everything else, he had to protect their dream of a free nation for Zaun.

Silco pinned and suffered in silence until he couldn’t take it anymore, until his unrequited love felt like an open wound badly infected, moments away from killing him. Then, and only then, he confessed.

Vander didn’t make a huge deal out of it, he was understanding and visibly confused. It was an awkward situation, but he could be nothing but kind, even as he broke Silco’s heart. Of course, he didn’t feel the same.

Or maybe he did, but he was too blind to see it, too infatuated by the idea of a future with Felicia to give a shot to a real future with him.

Vander had used a very familiar word to excuse his lack of introspection, one that served him as a shield while unknowingly harming Silco as if it had used the sharpest of blades.

“Silco, you’re my brother…”

They used brotherhood a lot to describe their relationship. Their found family, their friends, their allies in the Zaun revolution and even the fucking pilts, they all could see how deeply they cared for each other. And every time that was the reason they assumed to be behind their bond.

No one could ever deny the love in their eyes, the protective gestures, the smiles... It was obvious, but everyone assumed that what they shared was a blood bond. For Silco it was much more than some stupid liquid running through their veins, what they shared had been built over years of companionship, years of pain and struggle, blood was fucking nothing in comparison. Their souls were connected in a way no one could ever imagine or understand.

And Vander knew this. He knew how strong their bond was, but he hadn't really asked himself if what he felt for Silco was something more than brotherhood. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do if it wasn’t the case either, but he didn’t go as far as to truly consider it.

Vander didn't know how to react to Silco's confession, he didn’t want to hurt him or change their world forever. He was happy as they currently were, it was easy to live with Silco as a brother, but he didn’t know what was waiting for them if he ever allowed himself to analyze his own feelings.

Because of this, and completely unaware of the pain he was causing, Vander uttered that seemingly harmless word that Silco couldn’t stand anymore.

Brother.

The softness in his tone didn’t make it any less devastating. The pain in his eyes, as he knew how badly he was breaking Silco's heart, didn’t make it easier to hear.

The countless "I love you"s he pronounced after that, reassuring that even if it was not the same feeling, Silco was still one of the most important people in his life didn’t soothe the agony of his reopened wound.

None of that mattered.

Because he didn't feel the same as Silco.

The same word that once had been forced on them was now stronger than anything he had built together.

Silco didn't want to feel that pain, he couldn't allow it to stay inside his chest, not when it was so profound.

So he decided to leave The Last Drop. It would be only for a couple of days, to distance himself a little from the source of his pain and try to stitch close that damned cut.

During that time, alone and completely heartbroken, he focused on thinking of ways to achieve the goal they had been fighting for since they were teenagers. The Zaunite revolution and Zaun’s independence. He ignored his pain and used all his anger to plan their next move in their fight against Piltover, thinking of new ways to finally defeat their enemy.

It was during those days, blinded by the pain of his aching heart, that he understood they could only win against Piltover if they showed their true nature to the world. He knew by then that they needed to be more aggressive in their methods and destabilize, not only their government, but also their peace.

Let their own people know what monsters they had for leaders.

Let the people of Piltover suffer the same pain they had suffered since the very moment the City of Progress came to be.

The fight had turned into a way for him to forget his own suffering, and in his anguish, provoking pain to others stopped feeling wrong at all if that meant they could get closer to their goal of freedom.

It was at this point where the conflict with Vander started. Suddenly, the word "brothers" didn't quite fit them anymore, it seemed too caring for them. Now it was a word pronounced in a low voice, and when it was Silco the one saying it, his tone could only express disgust. He rolls his eyes as if the word was some sort of sick joke he hated to voice out loud, a reminder of what could never be.

Silco’s pain is a heavy weight preventing them both from going back to what they once had, and seeing this wounded Vander every single time his friend reminded him of his rejection. This, and how differently they started to approach their fight, made them step further and further away from the other.

And when they saw each other during important meetings, Silco threw the word “brother” extremely carelessly, always with the intention to wound Vander instead of calming him and expressing how much he still loved him.

It had turned into a word that neither of them could ever forget, and that would hunt Silco until the end of his days.

It had turned into a word that neither of them could ever forget, and that would hunt Silco until the end of his days.

[There's still a lot of resentment in Silco's expression, and in this scene before saying brother, Silco rolls his eyes. The man was PISSED]

In conclusion, I think "brother" was Silco and Vander's equivalent of Jayvik's "partner" and I bet Viktor was pissed as hell everytime he heard someone reffering to him as Jayce's partner AND JUST THAT, for both scientific pride and his hopeless crush on Jayce Talis.

[balladeerssong]

| SYNOPSIS | genshin men as cliche love tropes.

| INCLUDING | Albedo, Diluc, Childe, Kaeya, Zhongli

| WARNINGS | modern/university au!, Kaeya's and Zhongli's are suggestive, age gap in Zhongli's, mentions of blood and obsession in Albedo's, mentions of death in Diluc's.

𝐀𝐥𝐛𝐞𝐝𝐨 - ᵛᵃᵐᵖⁱʳᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵘᵐᵃⁿ ˡᵒᵛᵉ.

ꕤ Albedo is quiet, reserved, typically someone you'd call a 'loner' in uni. he's super distant with everyone and seems to be repulsed by any form of interaction. mood, honestly.

ꕤ it was all until you came along of course. your blood smells divine, your thoughts are unreadable, everything about you seems so.. different. but not the kind of different he is.

ꕤ Albedo loathes the monster he truly is, which is why he's scared to approach you at first. he yearns for, craves an answer to why you stand out from everyone else; but for that, he has to push his thirst for your blood down his throat - which is way more difficult than it seemed at first.

ꕤ however, first and foremost, he doesn't want to scare his dinner you away! how could he seek answers if you were terrified of him? so, he starts showing up at places you usually go to. it doesn't feel like someone is watching you all the time at all...

ꕤ oh, this parasocial relationship he was in with you looked way creepier from 3rd person view. his behaviour is straight up concerning to others, and if someone didn't think he was weird before, now they do.

ꕤ when he finally manages to speak to you in chemistry class, his world turns upside down. your voice, your scent, the light in your eyes, the warmth of your body - each and every part of you just draws him in, chaining him to you in a way he never could have imagined in the past.

ꕤ the more time you spend with him, the less tense he gets around you, which leads to a big change in his behaviour. he eventually reveals his big secret with a lump in his throat, and - to his surprise - you take it well and accept him for who he is.

ꕤ naturally, he's very protective. not just out of jealousy, but because he understands how fragile humans are compared to him. expect him to be right behind you wherever you go (even if you complain about him scaring your friends away).

𝐃𝐢𝐥𝐮𝐜 - ᶜʰⁱˡᵈʰᵒᵒᵈ ᵇᵉˢᵗ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ.

᯽ your families were always extremely close, which is why you basically spent your entire childhoods together. your parents always joked about how you'll eventually end up marrying each other when you grow up.

᯽ even after Crepus' unfortunate passing, you two stay inseparable. Diluc changed a lot after that, but you understand and accept him the way he is; which is something he's eternally grateful for.

᯽ from day 1 of university, it's obvious for everyone that seeing either of you without the other is near impossible. and before you think there would be a bunch of rumours about you two dating, you're wrong. to others it's common knowledge that you're a couple.

᯽ it's not like you act like you are! but you look nothing alike, so that closes out the possibility of you being siblings and... what else could you be, really?

᯽ Diluc hears about this before you do. it makes him reflect on his feelings - maybe he does feel more than just friendship. you've been a part of his life since birth, after all. at first he tries to brush it off, convincing himself that it's simply familial love he feels for you. yet he can't help but look at you in a slightly different way after that, he becomes a lot more attentive to everything you say and do (he already was, but now even more so!).

᯽ after exploring his emotions in depth, his confession would be brief and confident in the comfort of his apartment. it catches you by surprise, but it also makes you extremely happy - for the past years you thought you were the loser for falling for your best friend!

𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐞 - ᵖᵒᵖᵘˡᵃʳ ˣ ˡᵒⁿᵉʳ.

✦ 'name someone on campus who doesn't have a crush on Childe' challenge, go! while it does seem impossible, there's one person that could not care less about the redhead - it's you of course.

✦ and when they say the seating plans can't be that horrible, he ends up getting seated next to the only person who doesn't bother to even look at him. how humiliating! well, it's even worse for you - since you're somewhat an enigma to him, he'll bother you all the damn time.

✦ the worst part is that he thinks he's doing you a favour by talking to you, since you don't have friends and all. he even offers to sit with you at lunch as a joke, which you immediately refuse. how can he even enjoy his meal with all these people trying to get his attention all the time?

✦ you don't humour him at all and it infuriates him. it lights something up inside of him that he can't quite place - he has the attention of the entire campus, yet he'd much rather try to get yours instead. you're hard to get and he loves it.

✦ luck shines upon him when you're assigned to work on a project with your seatmate. the deadline is in a month, so you know what that means! he has 30 days to win you over.

✦ he does everything, and i mean everything. he invites you over to 'work on the project' often, and since you do want to get this over with quickly, you can't possibly refuse. you notice him getting closer and closer in your personal space on each occasion, pushing his knee against yours, letting your hands touch, resting his head on your shoulder. all of this leading up to the faithful moment where he has his nose against yours, pulling you into the kiss he's been waiting for all this time.

✦ you have to admit that his charms did work on you after all. and he has to admit he prefers being with just you, far from the crowd he used to be in the center of.

𝐊𝐚𝐞𝐲𝐚 - ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵇᵉˢᵗ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ'ˢ ᵉˣ.

✶ his biggest mistake ever was choosing your friend over you when fate offered him two hotties at the senior party. he was drunk, okay? she seemed slightly more interested and willing to do nasty things with him, so... he went with the easier road.

✶ well, he missed out BIG time. i'm not saying that your bestie is a bad person, no! but whenever you met up with him because your best friend wanted to spend time with the both of you at the same time, it became more and more obvious that he's much more compatible with you. he'd never show that of course.

✶ your friend was devastated on the night of their breakup, calling you at ungodly hours just to cry on the phone to you. how sad. Kaeya didn't seem like a bad guy, you could only wonder what happened between them. funny thing is, your best friend did too. he didn't give her an actual reason for the breakup. he could never tell her that he was head over heels for her best friend.

✶ he waits for a while. pouncing on you right after breaking up with your friend would be way too unethical and definitely suspicious. he still has your number though, and he knows that one place you usually get lunch from. he'll make a detailed, steadfast plan to get closer with you again - after all, you two haven't spoken since the day of the breakup.

✶ he gradually starts with small gestures here and there. liking your posts (which he didn't do while he was in a relationship), saying hello when you walk past him in the hallway, sitting next to you in class when your bestie is absent. soon, he starts sending you tiktoks he thinks you might enjoy, starting small talk when he catches you alone, paying for your lunch when he gets the chance. he's more obvious than he intended to be, but he's impatient. and you catch on.

✶ you didn't expect to be at his place one night, letting him see what he missed on his first opportunity, feeling so good but so guilty at the same time, knowing that your friend's heart would break for the second time if she found out.

✶ so, you start dating in secret. he's awfully good at keeping a facade up. you only meet up at each other's place, anywhere in the city or on campus would be too risky. the walls have ears and eyes in university after all.

𝐙𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐢 - ᵖʳᵒᶠᵉˢˢᵒʳ'ˢ ˢᵉᶜʳᵉᵗ ᶠᵃᵛᵒᵘʳⁱᵗᵉ.

𑁍 Mr. Zhongli has to be one of your favourite professors - you could very easily tell how much passion he has for the subjects he teaches, it was so motivating! i lied. he's just mad hot.

𑁍 his hair tied back, his dark brown suit that looks like it was made just for him, the way his long, slender fingers held his pen... absolutely divine.

𑁍 of course, the best way to get a teacher's attention is to either excel or underperform in their class and, well, the latter is way easier. he notices your lack of efforts when it comes to his subjects. intentional or not, it still needs to be talked about, so the day after your test, he asks you to stay behind for a minute (mission success).

𑁍 he talks about how poorly your essay is written, how you should pay attention to both the structure and the factuality of your work. you obviously couldn't care less about that, being lost in the gold irises behind his glasses. he notices this and simply sighs.

𑁍 never in his many years of teaching has a student try to get his attention this way, and he'd be ashamed to admit that it was working perfectly. your skirt being a bit too short during your one-on-one tutoring lessons, the buttons on your shirt that always seem to get loose, that look in your eyes when he's asking you to focus. he catches on. and he loves it.

𑁍 Zhongli knows you're doing this on purpose, yet he doesn't cancel your tutorings. he also wants this, no matter how unacceptable it is from either of you. which is why you're sat on his lap, learning about the correct way to build an essay up, slightly shifting your position every now and then. he clears his throat and adjusts his glasses before grabbing your chin and turning your head back to the paper in front of you.

[jhilsara]

Of Bookstore, Coffees, and Late Nights pt. 3

Sunshine!Reader/Southern!Reader/Plus Sized!Reader

Pairing: Fem!reader x Spencer Reid

Summary: Another year goes by and your friendship with Spencer is better than ever… too bad its a rough year. A birthday surprise, another Halloween adventure together (but make it a musical), Sister fights, and you finally find out what Spencer's day job is.

Word Count: 11.5k

Warnings: Canon typical BAU themes, sick family members, bank robbery, Season 7 finale

Previous|Next

The one where Spencer turns 30  

Spencer hasn’t left his apartment much lately. Besides going out for calls at the BAU and working on finding Ian Doyle, he doesn’t have much energy for anything else. Except for the new doctor he was seeing for his migraines. She was actually helpful in comparison to the others he had seen.   

It’s only been four months since Emily Prentiss died and Spencer doesn’t feel any lighter. He just seems to be spending more time debating on whether he’d feel better if he started using again. At least he’d be numb. Feeling numb sounded better than being miserably sad at the loss of one of his closest friends. He knows in the back of his mind, if he did start using dilaudid again he wouldn’t be able to truly put his all into the Ian Doyle investigation. That’s what keeps him content to stay sober.   

Spencer hasn’t visited the bookstore, not nearly as much as he used to. It’s enough to cause worry so you’ve started to call him at least once a week. He’s sure that you probably wanted to call every day. You worry and fret over him, and he knows it’s just a part of who you are, but he doesn’t feel deserving of the attention.   

Especially when you take it upon yourself to visit occasionally.   

He always opens the door for you, he can’t help it, he doesn’t want to worry you. Even though when he looks at your face, he sees the clear concern behind your eyes.   

He always knows when it’s you because your warmth and brightness almost roll off in waves that gently brush and seep under the doorway. You’re a force of nature. One where you shed some color into his incredibly bleak world.   

The only other friend who checks on him in the same kind of way would be Penelope. Which, she’s grieving in a very different way. It’s also hard for any of them to talk about Emily together without it being tainted by their Doyle investigation. He knows this isn’t a healthy coping mechanism, but he’ll be damned if he stops looking for the man that took away part of his family.    

There’s an ease and tenderness that comes with you. You've never pushed him to tell you what’s wrong. You'll ask, always testing the waters, shaking his raft, but you never push. You don’t force him down into the depths of his own consuming thoughts. The ones where he thinks he’s drowning and can’t recover from. The ones where all of his intrusive thoughts prick at his brain like tiny needles, trying to prove nonexistent points.   

It wasn’t that you weren’t curious, because you definitely are. Sometimes when he closed off the conversation, he could see the hurt in your eyes. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you, because Spencer would trust you with anything, you’re his best friend outside of the BAU. He even spent last New Years with you and your dad, Big Joe. Well, mostly you had made dinner, they watched Big Joe’s favorite movie, which Spencer happily listened to him give all his endless movie knowledge. After you put your dad to bed, they went out to a bar for a few midnight drinks.    

Spencer just preferred to keep the FBI parts of his life out of his personal life. It’s been refreshing to not be a federal agent when he’s with you. If he had to explain everything about Ian Doyle and Emily’s death... he was slightly afraid you wouldn’t want him in your life anymore.    

Or worse, he’d endanger you like Hotch had with Haley...   

So, Spencer does what he truly does best, holds his feelings close to his chest with his secrets. If your smile faltered when he couldn’t tell you what was happening, he’d bite his tongue. He couldn’t lose another friend. Not you. Even if his secrets kept you at arm's length.   

-   

It’s a random day in the middle of August when Spencer finally walks back into the bookstore. It surprised you so much you ram yourself into the edge of the checkout counter. You curse under your breath but shoot him a hesitant smile.    

“Hey, haven’t seen you in a while.” you softly said as you placed the books down to give him your full attention. Almost approaching him like he is a wounded animal. 

Spencer nods, “world keeps spinning, life goes on.” he said with a small shrug and a tight smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.   

He couldn’t tell you that his dead friend faked her death and was alive all along. Just in Paris... while two of his friends lied to his face. That absolutely isn’t a can of worms he’s willing to unload onto you. Not today, maybe not ever. He still had some anger to process that he doesn’t want to direct towards you. Spencer takes a deep breath and starts walking toward the cafe.    

You followed after him and smiled brightly. “Well, I’m glad to see you anyway.” you touch his shoulder lightly. “I’ve been worried about you.” you said warmly as you move behind the counter to make him a coffee.    

“I didn’t want to worry you,” He starts to rebuttal, but you cut him off.    

“I was going to worry regardless; I don’t know how to turn it off unfortunately.” you tried to joke lightly.    

Spencer just furrows his brows, “Do you worry about everything?” he asked. It comes across harsher than he means it to, but it rolls off your back.    

“No, just about people. I’m worried about Birdie, like all the time, not to mention dad. I’m also constantly thinking about my coworkers, Josie... My friends in Georgia...” you pause and bites your lip.    

“That probably sounds like I don’t do anything else besides worry.”    

“It sounds like anxiety.” he deadpanned.    

You shrugged and offered him his coffee. “Probably.”    

“Oh! Spencer, since you’re here!” you quickly change the subject whirling around to the computer, “Do me a favor and sign up for our new rewards program. I need a test guinea pig to make sure it actually tracks the points.”    

Spencer nods and waits. You swiftly tap information into the computer screen.    

“It’s only a few questions,” you murmured, “Full name...Spencer Reid. Date of birth-” you froze looking up at Spencer.   

“I don’t know your birthday.” you said it like it was a genuine surprise and frown. “We’ve known each other for almost three years, how do I not know your birthday?”   

Spencer gave a soft chortle of amusement, “I’ve never been in town for my birthday. I’m weirdly always out for work. Besides-” he shrugged. “I don’t know yours either.”    

You dramatically groan. “I cannot believe I didn’t know this! Birthdays are so important!”    

Spencer tilts his head curiously, “I didn’t know you liked birthdays that much?”   

“Don’t you? It’s the one day to truly celebrate a person. I mean you don’t need a day to do that, but doesn’t everyone want to feel special just one day? I mean you make your way around life another year and you should earn just a little treat for it! Living sucks sometimes.” you said matter of factly.    

You're so passionate as you talk, Spencer almost forgets it’s even about birthdays.     

Spencer paused before his brain autofill's information like a search engine, “Did you know that the birthday celebration actually started in ancient Egypt with Pharoh's? It wasn’t for common folk at all. They acted as a coronation for a Pharoh. Greeks and Romans adopted them for their worship of the gods but really, individual birthdays weren’t well known. For a long time in history.” Spencer info dumps what he knew and smiled triumphantly.    

You nod, listening, you always listened to Spencer when he had the wealth of knowledge to just disperse whenever. It was charming.   

“Sooooooo, what I’m hearing is, we should celebrate everyone like they are their own gods?” you tease him.   

Spencer rolls his eyes, “Not what I meant.”    

You hummed in amusement, “Well, I’ll be the judge of that.” You smiled, like you had a secret. “What’s your birthday Spencer?”    

“October 12th 1981.” He tells you with a sigh.    

You plug it into the computer, and you realize quickly that Spencer’s about to turn 30. You looked up at him, “That’s only a few months away. Makes sense it’s October.”    

Spencer fakes a dramatic gasp as he looks at you in shock, “What’s that supposed to mean?”    

You give him a deadpan look as you finish typing in the rest of his information. “It means- that for someone who loves Halloween it doesn’t surprise me you were born in October.”    

“What’s your e-mail?” you asked him.    

“I only have my work one and I’m not using that for your rewards program.” He said in fake exasperation, “By your logic,” he picked back up their conversation, “that means you also were born in October.”    

You make a fake buzzer noise, “Nope!” you pop the P. “Try again.”   

Spencer raises a brow, “There is a 1 in 365 chance for me to guess right. That’s not even one percent.”    

“Do you care if I just put in my e-mail? We’re just testing it, I’m doing it anyway.” you tap away at the computer, “Also- ever heard of a zodiac sign? Thats at least like 1 in 12 chances. Better odds.” you gave him a pointed look.   

Spencer rolls his eyes. “Are you seriously making me guess zodiac signs?”    

You wiggled your brows, “What? The genius doesn’t believe in the fate of the stars.” you smirked to yourself as you typed away at the computer.   

“Do you actively want me to stereotype you?” He asked with a teasing smile of his own.   

“Tik tok, it’s either guess the sign or the date.” you joke.    

“You’re stubborn enough, let’s say Taurus.” he replied with a snark.    

You rolled your eyes and made a tsk sound, “Nice try, but WRONG. I’m a Cancer. A summertime baby even though I hate hate hate summer.” you groan thinking about the heat.    

“Then your logic definitely doesn’t make sense.” He laughed in exasperation.   

You shrugged, “never said I was right.”    

Spencer glared playfully, “No but it was implied.”   

You just brush him off. Finishing up the rewards program. “I think it works. It should track your drink purchases, and every tenth drink is free!” you said excitedly.    

“You never charge me for my drinks.” He reminded you with a look of mild confusion.   

“Shhhh, don’t let the other customers know I have favorites! They’ll get their feelings hurt!”    

-   

You’ve been scheming since you found out Spencer’s birthday. 30 was a milestone and you weren’t about to let him go by without even an itsy bitsy teenie weenie celebration. You weren’t going to throw a surprise party or anything. After the fiasco that was a friend's surprise party when they were 21 you vowed to never again. The last thing you had expected was for everyone to find out that your friend's roommate was cheating. Screaming surprise to a pair of twentysomethings trying to eat each other’s faces and their actual boyfriend being in the room was rough.    

You learned no more surprises the hard way.   

The only surprise you had was you were determined to have Josie bake one of her delicious cakes for him. You begged Josie, just a small chocolate cake with a gorgeous violet frosting. Nothing too insane, Josie just was the best baker you knew. Her cakes were to die for, but most of her pastries were.    

Josie agreed, but only if you agreed to take the deposits to the bank for the Holiday season. You lived closer and Josie hated dealing with the general population outside of what she had already seen during the holidays.     

You've been hiding Spencer’s cake in the back freezer for a day, hoping he wouldn’t be out of town for his birthday. You had called him earlier in the week and asked him to swing by on Wednesday if he could. You had told him you really needed a taste tester for your new Halloween treat. Sugar was Spencer’s weakness.    

You're pacing back and forth, trying to not be on edge, but you’re riddled with so much excitement it’s hard. You've been decorating the new display case filled with Halloween themed books. You are hanging up a garland in the window display when you see Spencer walking down the street.    

You quickly finished hanging up your ghost garland and quickly ran to the back freezer to get his cake out to let it defrost a bit. You throw candles and a lighter on the counter in the back room and you try to make sure everything is set and ready to go.    

The bell rings all the way through to the back and you compose yourself before stepping out again. You stick your head out the back door that divides the cafe from the back kitchen and waves to Spencer.    

“Back here!” you shout.   

The bookstore only had a few patrons tonight, none of which were happily there to hang out or study. They were perusing the isles, and you had already given them a few recommendations of books. You know an insomniac when you see one, and these people were the kind that needed something besides the empty fridge to look at for their late-night brain. It was later than normal, around two in the morning, when Spencer came walking in.    

“I almost thought you weren’t coming by tonight.” you tease leaning against the counter.    

“It was a late work trip.” He said with a tired smile.    

“Well, I have a treat for you. Taste testing if you will.” you said, turning to the back room.    

“I need you to close your eyes though. I’m really proud of it.”    

Spencer rolls his eyes at your antics but does as you’ve asked.    

“No peaking!” you shouted, and Spencer could hear the door to the back close behind you.    

You check the cake, and it's good to go. The back freezer wasn’t cold enough to freeze it solid, so the cake is still easy to cut. you press the candles into the top, a three and a zero to make 30. You slowly light the candles and back up to bring the cake out. You gently set it down in front of Spencer, who’s just standing there with his eyes closed and a goofy grin.     

“Okay, open.”    

Spencer opens his eyes, and he looks stunned. His mouth just kind of hangs open like a gaping fish before he murmured, “This isn’t a Halloween treat...”    

“Happy birthday Spencer.” you whisper looking at his reaction and trying to gauge it. “I didn’t make your cake, Josie did, but I promise her cakes are the very best.”    

Spencer was stunned into silence. He truly didn’t expect you to remember his birthday, or know he was turning 30. Hell, even his team wasn’t aware it was his birthday until Emily told them. Which, he does appreciate her listening to him. He was having a crisis over his own accomplishments.   

You start getting antsy when Spencer doesn’t respond. He’s standing there with his mouth open. You start rambling, “I just thought, you know, 30 is a big deal! It’s a milestone and I didn’t get to celebrate your past two birthdays so I thought this would be a nice treat... I know I didn’t ask if you even like surprises, but it was so small-”    

Spencer cuts her off.    

“Sorry, I just... thank you.” He tells you with a soft smile. “I love it.”    

Your eyes light up and you brush your hair out of your face. The nerves leaving your body.    

“Make a wish Spencer.”    

Spencer doesn’t have to think about it as he blows out his candles.    

“What did you wish for?” you asked, grabbing a knife to cut his cake.    

Spencer raised a brow, “Well if I tell you, it won’t come true.”    

You roll your eyes, “Didn’t peg you to be superstitious.”    

Spencer just shrugged at that and bit his lip. If his wish had to do with you, well, you didn’t need to know.    

The one about Rocky Horror Picture Show  

Spencer’s sorting through the collection of DVD’s you’ve brought over for their movie night. You brought an eclectic mixed taste of Halloween movies, from Hocus Pocus to Insidious. Spencer pauses on Rocky Horror Picture Show and you make a noise of excitement.    

“Oh, we should watch it! I’m going to the showing next weekend and I’m so excited.” you said, reaching for the bowl of popcorn.    

“I didn’t know they still showed it in movie theaters, I’ve never been.” he said casually popping open the case to grab the DVD.   

“What do you mean you haven’t seen Rocky Horror Picture Show? It’s like quintessentially a Halloween staple.” you said in abject horror.    

Spencer is once again being berated for his lack of pop culture knowledge. To be fair, he does know the movie. So, he isn’t fully aware of why you are looking at him like he has two heads.   

“I’ve seen the movie. I know what it is.” He gives a scoff and shakes his head.    

“No, that’s not what I mean. Why haven’t you ever been to a local show? It’s iconic!” you said exaggeratedly.   

Spencer rolled his eyes. “My job doesn’t always let me preplan my events well. Besides, it can’t be much different than watching the movie at home.” He said turning to press play on the DVD player.   

You audibly gasp standing up from the couch.    

“Spencer Reid, that is blasphemous! You are absolutely coming with me to a viewing of Rocky Horror, like immediately.” you demand planting your hands on your hips and shooting him a playful glare.    

“What makes it so different?” He cocked his head in confusion, brows furrowed. “It’s a musical from the 70’s that barely makes sense in the plot line and some of the verbiage is really outdated, borderline offensive really.” He states matter of factly.   

You sighed, “You don’t understand art! It’s about the experience of the show, it’s such a great time going to a live show and seeing everyone in costume and singing together, chanting, using props! It’s one of the best things to be in a room of similar people just having fun.” you told him in a dreamy voice.   

Spencer nodded, still not fully getting your image, moving to go sit on the couch, “I didn’t know they were so... performative.”    

“They are some of my favorite shows I’ve been to. Especially bringing new people.” you plop back down on the couch next to him.    

“Why?” he asked, turning to watch the opening credits, leaning down to grab his late-night coffee that wasn’t nearly as good as what you make in the cafe.   

“Because they’re virgins.” You said it like it was so obvious. Like it was a fact as simple as the sky is blue.   

Spencer almost chokes on his coffee.    

“Excuse me?” he asks a little baffled.    

You roll your eyes, “When someone is brought to a live show and they’ve never been, they’re a virgin. There’s even a silly virgin ritual that’s super fun. The whole nights a blast.”    

Spencer goes quiet, his face bursting into a red flush, “It’s not... it’s not like a sex thing, is it?”    

Your laugh filters through his apartment bright and loud. You shake your head, “God no Spencer! I’m not going to some crazy orgy almost every year.”    

Spencer started coughing and looked at you with wide eyes, “I wasn’t implying that you- I-... shit.”    

You just shake your head still trying to control your laughter, “Well you have to come with me now Spencer, to heal my wounded ego. I’m going on Halloween. Dress up please?” you asked with a bat of your lashes.   

Spencer covers his face in embarrassment but nods, “Okay, okay, okay. I’ll go. Can we please just watch the movie now?”    

“Can do.” you snickered settling back into the comfort of his couch.   

-   

Before you can leave, you have a few things you need to check first. Spencer is picking you up to walk to the theater together, which is sweet. You go to check on your dad before leaving.    

You knock gently on your father's door before opening it a crack, “Daddy?” you whisper.   

Big Joe is passed out in his bed, the television still playing faintly in the background of some sports game. His snores letting you know he was out for the night.   

You shake your head with a sigh before going in to turn off his television and giving him a soft kiss on the cheek.    

“Love you, I’ll be back later.” you whispered.     

You check your outfit one last time in the mirror, looking at her Janet inspired pajamas. She was wearing tights, a silk slip dress, and wrapped in a similar silk night gown. You were going as Janet in her under garments, but something you were okay with wearing in public. You throw your long coat over it to keep yourself warm.    

You hear Spencer’s gentle knock on the door, and you quickly move to grab the last few items. You grab your large tote bag, double checking to make sure you have all the props you wanted to bring. You look in your wallet to make sure you have both tickets, and you feel confident.    

You slide on your heels and open the door to greet Spencer.    

“Hey! I’m ready.” you greet excitedly, moving to close the door behind you.   

You look at Spencer and see he’s dressed as Brad from the start of the movie, glasses and all. You grin as you tilt your head.    

“I didn’t know you wear glasses?” you said with a tiny smile pointing at his face.   

Spencer shrugged, “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” he said holding out his arm for you.    

“A gentleman too!” you faked a gasp as you wrapped your arms around his. “To the theater!” you proclaim with an exaggerated drawl of your accent.   

It’s not the shortest of walks, but the duo arrives at the theater only a little chilly. Mostly you, even under your coat. You present the tickets, and they are quickly ushered inside. You immediately relax, feeling the warmth of the heater.    

You move to hang up your coat on the rake and Spencer catches what your actual costume is. His face flushed a bit.    

“You, you look great.” He almost chokes on his words as he compliments you.    

You do a little spin, your loose robe fanning out around you. “Thought it would be cute and comfy!” you tell him with a proud smile.    

You come back up to Spencer to link their arms together again, “Come on let’s go find our seats! I wanna make sure I have the props in the right order.” you looked up at him with unbridled excitement that’s just too contagious.    

Spencer just gives a nod, “Lead the way, Janet.”    

“Aren’t you just a peach Brad!” you responded without missing a beat.    

Everything about this movie experience is the exact opposite of what Spencer would expect when going to see a film. Almost everyone in the crowd was dressed and just as many were carrying around props.    

Your bag was filled with rice, newspapers, playing cards, he was honestly impressed by the Mary Poppins effect. He couldn’t see the bottom and every time you pulled something out, he really thought you had hit the end.   

The Time Warp plays, and you drag him out of his seat to dance together. The whole room ignited into a loud cacophony of singing. Your laughter is the only sound he can hear pierce through, and he finds himself smiling alongside you.    

Once that musical number ends, they almost fall back into their seats, you lean closer to him and whispers in his ear, “Are you having fun?”   

He turns and nods, bending down to grab some left-over rice to toss at you playfully. “It’s a blast.” he laughs.   

You squeeze his arm, “I’m glad.”    

The evening is chaotic, loud, and so so so messy. By the time the movie ends the theater is a real mess. You grab as many of the large props as you can and shove them back into your bag, trying to make the clean-up at least a bit easier.    

Once they’re outside, and you’re wrapped back up in your coat, Spencer takes a deep breath.    

“Soooooooooo?” you start, giving him an expectant look.   

“I had a lot of fun. I totally get the theater experience.” He chuckled looking over at you.   

“Good! Maybe we can make it a tradition.” You said giving him a gently nudge with your elbow.   

“You mean add more activities to our Halloween calendar? How will we ever find room!” He says in jest.    

You shrugged lazily with a dramatic sigh. “We’re just too festive Spencer.”   

“Clearly, we’re going to have to start Halloween in September next year.” He suggested.   

“Oh, that would give me something to look forward to!” you said in excitement.   

Spencer walks you home and drops you off at the foot of the apartment.    

“Thanks again Spencer. It was so much fun going with someone again.” you tell him with a soft smile. “I haven’t been able to go with anyone since we moved here.”   

Spencer steps forward to brush your hair out of your face, “I love spending Halloween with you.” he whispered.   

Your face bursts into a deep flush as you can feel your heart almost beat out of your chest. “Goodnight Spencer.”   

“Goodnight, Y/N.”   

The one where Birdie visits  

You're cleaning some dishes left over from breakfast when the doorbell rings. You sigh, knowing it’s far too early for Spencer to come by to pick you up for lunch. It has to be Bridget. Her timing couldn’t have been more perfect, since you had just dropped your father off for a checkup.   

Your baby sister had called last night asking if their dad would be home tomorrow. You were too hopeful to think that meant Bridget was trying to spend time with their dad. It’s like pulling teeth trying to get Bridget to spend some time with their dad. Since he’s been diagnosed it’s almost like she can’t stand to be in the same room as him. Big Jo tries to not let it hurt his feelings, but you see his face and how he deflates.    

The day she came by, and he was in a wheelchair, it was like they’d both been hit by a truck.    

You plant a forced smile on your face as you answer the door, “I thought you were coming by later? When daddy would be here.”    

Your sister shakes her head, shoving her hands into her coat pocket. “Nope, I just needed to stop by before I started running my errands for the day.” she said calmly.    

“Well come in, come on, it’s freezing.” You step aside to let your sister in. Bridget quickly sheds her coat and scarf hanging them on the rack next to the door.    

“Magpie, did you pack any of my stuff when you moved daddy up here?” Bridget asks, walking into the kitchen and making herself a glass of water.    

“Come on in, fix yourself a drink, don’t mind your sister... by the way do you have my junk?” you mock crossing your arms as you raise your brow at your younger sister.    

“I didn’t mean it like that, I’m just in a hurry.” Bridget replied rolling her eyes.    

“Well, what are you looking for Birdie?” you asked.    

“I told you, it’s Bri.” She murmured with a sour face. “I can’t find any of my old high school stuff.” she said casually.    

You lean against the counter, “I didn’t take any of that stuff. I just packed up the essentials.”    

“So, my stuff is in a storage unit?” Bridget asked irritated.    

“No Birdie, it’s all still at the house in Georgia. I have Aunt Jo taking care of it. All your stuffs at home.” you replied exasperated.    

“Aunt Josephine? I thought she was like... a recluse?” Bridget asked, making a scrunched face.   

You roll your eyes, “No, Aunt Jo just never liked Lauren, so she never came around.”    

“God, can you just call her mom Magpie? I hate it when you call momma Lauren... it’s weird.” Bridget said defensively.    

You look up at Bridget with a raised brow, “I’m good, thanks. That would involve her having to stick around to be my mom.”   

“I’m not getting into this with you again.” Bridget says in a huff of frustration hitting the counter with her hands.    

“Fine.”   

“Fine.”   

Silence settles over the two sisters, and you go to open the fridge to grab a prepackaged cold coffee.    

“Soooooooooo,” you drawl out as you open the drink.    

Bridget looks at you with a suspicious look.    

“What are your Christmas plans?” you ask, trying to be casual.    

“Jamie and I are going to see momma in Florida. We’ve had these plans for a while.” She said defensively not making eye contact.   

“Birdie come on, you haven’t spent the past few Christmases with daddy, and if you did see him, it was for twenty minutes or a crummy half assed phone call.” you plead, throwing your hand up in emphasis.   

“Y/N, I didn’t come here for a lecture, I just needed to know if you packed my shit when you decided to pack up all our lives and move out to DC without asking me.” Bridget murmurs bitterly under her breath.   

Your brows furrow as you’re taken aback by your sister.    

“Bridget, I didn’t pack up everyone's lives- we still have the house in Georgia!" You said mildly irritated.   

Bridget just rolls her eyes and puts her glass in the sink. “Whatever...” She murmured.   

You feel that small part of yourself, the one that gnaws and claws bubbling under your skin, poke itself to the surface. “What was I supposed to do? I had to make a decision for dad’s health!” you feel your voice rising in irritation that only your sister can bring out of you.   

“Besides, I wasn’t the one who moved to DC to run away from her family.” you state bitterly.   

“Oh, come off it!” Bridget throws her hands up in defeat. “I’m not running away-this was the best program for me, and you know that!”   

“Then what do you call never seeing dad! You even called to ask if he was home before you came today, Birdie, just so you could avoid him... What would you call that?” you feel your voice raising and can’t stop the vitriol that spits out of your mouth at your sister.   

There’s a pit in the bottom of your stomach that twists and churns when it comes to your sister and your dad. You had tried so hard to get her to understand that their father was dying. They’re already lucky with the years they’ve gotten. He’s beaten the odds, but he can’t go on forever. You don’t understand how Bridget can just act like life is normal when every day could be their dad’s last.   

“It’s not my fault daddy’s sick!” Bridgit shouts, her own voice cracking, “It’s not my fault you’ve given up your own life to be his caretaker! So, stop blaming me for living my life, while you’re stuck here playing nurse!”    

“I’m not blaming you-”   

“Yes, you are! You always blame me-”   

“No, I don’t Bridget! If anything, I’m jealous about how selfish you can be!” you feel the words tumbling out of your mouth like bile before you can stop herself. You're so angry and sad all the time. It’s not fair that you’re so aware of your father’s mortality while your baby sister gets to run around and live her carefree life.    

“I just wish you’d think about the fact that daddy is dying!”    

The silence that falls between them is thick, the tension tight, about to break. Bridget looks at her sister with hatred, “I’m very aware he’s dying Y/N... I’m not stupid.” she whispers out in a hard tone.    

Bridget turns around to grab her coat and rushes quickly to the door.    

You dig your heels in more, the words almost vomiting out your mouth in fierce resentment, “Go on Bridget, run away like you always do! I’ve been taking care of dad alone, anyway, not like he has two daughters!” your voice peaks and cracks in frustration.    

You blink away the fat angry tears pricking your eyes.   

Bridget turns on her heels to face her older sister, flipping you off, “Fuck you!” she hisses out in a venomous tone.   

Bridget elbows her way past the man in front of her almost knocking him down as she runs off.    

You rush to the door, about to yell something else after her when you see Spencer standing to the side in shock.    

Your shoulders drop and you look ashamed, closing your mouth tightly. You take a deep breath.    

“How much of that did you hear?” you asked quietly.    

You can’t find it in yourself to look up at Spencer yet, embarrassed by your own unbridled rage.    

He moves to push you gently back inside, “enough...” he replied softly closing the door behind him.    

“C’mon sit down.” He gently moves you to the couch, forcing you to sit down.    

He disappears into the kitchen for a short while and you sit on the couch looking at your lap. You feel the wave of resentment you were holding onto leave and be replaced with the intense sorrow that follows. The tears that were building finally fell, landing on your lap as you sobbed, trying to hold back your voice. Your throat feels tight as you sit there trying to hold yourself together, to not scream your lungs out.    

You feel the sofa dip next to you and a small mug is pushed into your hands. It’s warm tea.   

“There’s a lot of honey in there, I wasn’t thinking so it might be too sweet.” he said softly.    

You just shake your head and sniffle, trying to compose yourself. “No such thing...” you tried to joke, moving the cup to your mouth, your hands shaking the whole time.    

A sob escapes you before you can even drink the tea.    

“I’m sorry,” you tried to say, the tears just sliding down your face, you look up at Spencer your lip quivering and eyes red.    

Spencer gently grabs the tea and puts it on the coffee table before he opens his arms for you, and it doesn’t take but a short second before your face is in Spencer’s chest bawling.   

He wraps his arms around you, holding you tightly, rubbing soothing circles into your back. Your body shakes from crying, you sound like a small child with how the sobs rip through your throat.    

Spencer holds you until you calm down enough, he finally feels you stop shaking.   

“Do you feel better now?” he whispers.    

You pulled back and tried to dry your eyes, you could already feel the puffiness settling.    

“No...” you murmured pitifully. “I feel worse, like I’m a bitch.” You look up at Spencer and see the massive wet stain from your tears.   

“Sorry,” you point to his shirt, “didn’t mean to unload all of that on you. I thought you were coming later?” you said in a tiny voice.    

“I was running early so I thought I’d just drop by, was that... Bridget?” he asked in a soft voice.    

You nodded. “We were fighting about dad... again.” you admit finally grabbing your cup of tea that he made you.    

Spencer face makes a silent ‘Oh’ as he nods in understanding.    

“It sounded pretty bad.” he replied.   

You groan, “I don’t like fighting about it. I don’t like fighting at all!” you said facing him. “We used to get along great, then... I don’t know. Everything changed when our parents divorced, and the gap just never stopped growing... Now there’s this great divide I can’t seem to reach across and...” you pause, taking a deep breath trying to stop the words from just falling out of your mouth. Exposing your raw skin that you’ve picked at so much your bones are exposed telling your story.   

“I know she thinks I hate her for living her life.” You sigh looking at Spencer, who’s just been sitting and kindly listening. Attentively. “I do sometimes resent how carefree she is... but” you bite your lip.   

“Spencer, I’m so scared that when dad dies... it’ll just,” you scoffed, “Me and that god forsaken bookstore.”   

“I don’t want to lose them both.” you said, your eyes brimming with tears again.    

If there was anything Spencer felt confident that he could do, it was helping you handle loss. He’s experienced it enough.   

“You won’t be alone.” He tells you confidently; he reaches out to hold your hands tightly. “I’ll be here.” he reassured you.    

“If there’s anything I’ve learned, everyone handles grief differently. Bridget...she might not be able to handle how sick your dad is.” Spencer tried to reason, anything to make you feel less alone.   

“Avoiding it won’t make it go away...” you muttered.    

“No, and she’ll eventually see that. You can’t force her to confront that fear.” he said pushing your hair behind her ear.    

“It’s so hard, how do you do it? Alone with your mom?” you asked softly.    

Spencer loses his breath for a moment before he swallows. Trying to find an answer.    

“Well, she has doctors she trusts now. And a home that she feels safe in... but I spent my childhood taking care of her.”    

Spencer scoffs, “I resent my father, he left a child alone to take care of a sick mother? He never helped me.”    

You give him a soft nudge with your shoulder, “my mom's pretty shitty too.”    

Spencer gives a hollow chuckle, “Does everyone have a shitty parent?” he asks, squeezing your hand.   

You lay your head on his shoulder, “There has to be good parents... we just- we got unlucky.” you whisper.   

“Maybe we did...” He murmured.    

Silence settles between them and it’s calming, not the tense air that was with Bridget.    

“You never told me what happened with your mom.”   

You tense up.    

“It’s not a story I like telling...” you sighed, “When I was thirteen, I overheard my parents arguing. Long story short, my mom cheated on my dad. Bridget was so young, like six, so when they divorced, they tried to lie to us. That it was mutual. Civil... I knew the truth though; I couldn’t look at my mom the same after that." you told him with a bitter smile.    

“I already lost my mom; I just couldn’t take away Birdie’s...”    

“You never told her?” he asked in surprise.    

“It wasn’t for me to tell. I just, I was a teenager...I wanted to protect her you know? She didn’t need the bitterness that bites at the back of my throat every time I see that woman.”   

Spencer nods in understanding. “You know, you’re allowed to feel angry. You don’t have to be agreeable or happy about everything. It’s okay to get mad sometimes.” His hand moves up to gently brush your hair.    

You don’t respond to his statement, just try to not cry anymore.    

“Can we go get lunch now?” you asked after a few minutes of silence.    

“Anywhere you want.”   

The one where you find out Spencer works for the FBI   

It’s a rough morning.   

Massively rough, actually. Your alarm didn’t go off and if it wasn’t for Spencer calling you, you’d still be heavily sleeping.    

You roll over to grab your phone and answer it.    

“Hello?” your voice comes out groggy, slow, and thick with sleep.    

“Hey! You still want to go to the convention? I’m leaving soon and I can swing by to grab you.” Spencer’s voice comes through.    

You panic, and shots up staring at your bedside clock. “Oh god, Spencer I’m so sorry! I slept in!” You jump out of your bed and almost trip over your own clothes strewn on the floor from the night before.    

“It’s okay- I can wait if you need me to-”   

“No, no no! You were so excited, don’t wait up!” You interrupt him as you throw clothes from your closet around trying to find something you want to wear.    

“It’s no big deal.” Spencer started to answer but you sighed.    

“Spencer are you already dressed?” you pressed, grabbing one of your comfortable but cute skirts and a simple sweater. You throw them on your bed.   

His silence is enough of an answer.    

“You are.” you sighed and shook your head, “I have to go to the shop and pick up the money to deposit for the bank today. I’ll just meet up with you later. Promise. I just have to run this errand first.” you told him with a soft tone.   

You hear his small huff, “It’s really not a big deal,”    

“Spencer” you chastise him. “You’re already ready to go. I’ll probably just take a little over an hour. Then I'll be there, okay? Just do a few laps in the artist alley for me.” you tell him teasingly.    

You can almost hear him rolling his eyes. “Fine, but you owe me a coffee.”    

“I always do.” you joked before hanging up.    

You rush through putting on your makeup and throwing your clothes on. You gave yourself a quick once over before deciding that you can’t waste any more time. You looked decent enough.   

You rushed down the stairs and came around the corner to see your dad sitting at the kitchen table.    

“You sure you’re okay without me today?” you asked him, leaning down to kiss your dad on the cheek.    

Her dad huffs, “I told you I can handle one day. Magpie, go out. You haven’t been out in months for fun.” He grunted in his deep voice, slurring his words together.    

“I’m just asking daddy!” you snorted a soft laugh. “I want to make sure you don’t need anything before I leave.” you told him.    

Her dad’s been able to move himself in and out of his own wheelchair for the most part, but you’re waiting for the day he can’t.    

You’re waiting for the day your daddy can’t do most things.   

“Don’t worry about me, I’m gonna watch the Brave’s game today and I better see them win.” He mumbled nodding to you.    

You roll your eyes, “Don’t hold your breath on that one. I love you.”   

“Love you too pumpkin.”    

You grab your bag, “Be safe!” He hollers at you.    

“I always am!” you shout back to him before leaving for the bookstore.    

-   

You are checking your watch in a mild panic. You’re not super off on the time you gave Spencer, but you still hate making him wait. You should have just taken the money deposit on Friday, but you were so sleepy you barely could do more than take your dad to his appointment.    

You huffed in frustration, you only had yourself to blame.    

You're finally up to deposit the stores money, and you thank the gods above. Then your, already bad day, goes terrible.   

“Hey!”   

Gun shots. Gun shots go off and you are frozen, your brain going into fight or flight. You turn quickly and see a woman with a short bob holding a gun and the security guard is on the ground, blood pooling beneath his body.    

You feel your stomach fall out of your body and you’re shuffled with the crowd trying to get out. It feels like a blur.   

“I want to see hands in the sky!” a new voice shouts.   

Your hands go up, you see at least three guns and three different ugly face masks swinging their guns around. You feel like your ears are ringing while you’re ushered into a corner with the other patrons.    

Your body is shaking from fear. Who the hell robs a bank on a Saturday afternoon?    

“Yes, ladies and gentlemen, we are the Face Cards, maybe you’ve heard of us.” The woman’s voice rings through again.   

You stand next to a couple who start speaking lowly in a foreign language, you think it’s German. You know that they’re trying to plan something together.    

The woman with her face mask turns around pointing her gun at the couple quickly walking toward them, speaking in their language. You have no idea what she says but you know it’s a threat.    

“Get your faces on the floor already. I see eyes, you see bullets. Get it?” the woman shouts at them.    

You slide down with everyone, fear eating away at you. You just hope the police are either quick or the robbers are.    

“Get down on the ground!” one of the males screams.   

You feel like a rock is in your throat. You just keep your head down, trying to keep yourself together. You aren’t focusing on what they’re saying. You know he’s demanding money but you’re just trying to focus on living.   

You hear them shuffling, shouting, and then they're gone. Just as soon as you feel like you can breathe again, there’s more gunshots and the robbers come running back inside.   

You are yanked up by your arm, forced to your feet. Your eyes meet the hollow black abyss of the woman’s mask as she holds the gun to your stomach. You can’t breathe, all you can think about is how you can’t leave your dad alone.    

“Make a wall, stand near the doors and windows.” she demanded, shoving you toward the front door.    

You heard the woman walk away, and you released a shaky breath squeezing your eyes shut.    

This is not how you wanted today to go. You were supposed to be at a convention with Spencer. Dressed as Doctor Who characters, eating bland food, and buying something silly from the artist alley. You’d come home, make dinner, and watch a movie with your dad.    

Now you don’t know if you’ll see your dad or Spencer again. God, you can’t think, what if you don’t see your dad again? Who’s going to take care of him? Your sister won’t. Your mind starts to spiral and you’re panicking, your breathing becomes shallow.    

You're brought back by the woman who’s next to you grabbing your hand and holding it tight. It grounds you to the present. You can hear the conversation happening with the squabbling face masked robbers.   

“I can’t find anything. No doors, no grates, nothing.” The woman informed the man.   

“Yo! Lynne! What’s another way outta here?” He shouts disgruntled to the woman who was working behind the counter.   

“Just the main entrance and the side door. It’s for security.” She responds timidly.   

“I know that. You think I’m stupid?” He shouted at her with an exhausted sigh.   

“What went wrong? We were on count.” The woman growls out in frustration.   

“I need a doctor. Is anyone a doctor?!” The man is clearly ignoring her and trying to save the other man that’s with them.   

You don’t hear much else, you start to tune out all the noise into a hum that almost feels like tv static against your skin. It makes you itch, but you can’t be bothered to try to move.   

There’s a murmur of conversation from the group next to you but it just makes white noise in your ears. You're just numb and want desperately to be home or at the coffee shop with Spencer. Anywhere else.   

A phone ringing is the only thing that vaguely pulls you out of it enough to pay attention again.   

One of the robbers is on the phone, the woman keeps circling murmuring her own commentary.   

“He’s trying to negotiate.” the man’s gruff voice cuts through.   

“We’re not playing games!” The woman sneers back.   

You feel the woman’s eyes scanning, heels clicking on the floor. You can feel your heart in your throat as it beats aggressively.   

There’s sudden movement and near you the woman pulls a small girl. She screams for her dad who’s with her and he spins around begging for his daughter.   

“Either we get what we want, or everyone in this room dies.”   

The father’s voice is shaking as he begs. “Take me instead, please. Take me.”   

“It’s okay baby.”   

Then the loud noise of gun being shot makes you flinch as you see the man falling backwards and lands on the ground in front of you. His daughter screaming for him and trying to grab him.   

You squeeze your eyes shut, knowing too easily you could be shot too.   

“You better send in some help or more people are gonna die.” The man tells the police calmly on the phone.   

You feel a shaky breath leave your body.   

They keep going back and forth and you hear the phone again.   

It feels like an out of body experience. You can’t think, barely can feel yourself breathing. If it wasn’t for the occasional heel clicking or unfortunate gun shot, you’d think it was a nightmare.   

The front door opens, and a man walks through a metal detector, he looks like medical personnel. The woman tries to pat him down, but the other robber is in the floor with a dying man screaming for help.   

The room in dead silent as you hear the man work, trying to save the robber on the ground.   

The room is starting to smell like blood and what you can only assume is the stench of death. You hate the iron that’s infiltrating your nostrils, and you’ve never thought of yourself to be queasy with gore, but this is real. Not a horror movie.   

There’s at least two dead men in front of you on the floor, a small girl sobbing into a strange woman, and soon to be another body.   

Another gunshot.   

You still flinch. The medics body now is dragged forward into the pile of dead men. Alongside the other robber. Four. Four dead men.   

You want to hurl. You are not built for this, that’s why you run a bookstore and cafe.   

“Everyone move forward!” the woman demands with a shout.   

You vaguely hear the phone ring again and you wonder when this will be over. Will they shoot all of them? Will they kill another person, five more? When does it end and what can the police even do?   

You’re starting to think this bank will be the last four walls you ever see. You have to blink back the tears and not let that thought overwhelm you.   

The man and woman are squabbling again. Turning on each other? You can’t really tell.   

“I wanna talk to the cop who shot my brother.”   

Well, there goes that tactic. No betrayals here... just possibly another dead officer.   

The man gets back on the phone and the back and forth goes on, he keeps demanding the officer, even offering to let hostages go. That feels far too good to be true though.   

One of the men near you gets dragged back, pulled over to the phone.   

“Come on bud, let’s go!”   

“Pick up the phone.” the robber demands.   

“Why?” the man’s shaking voice asks.   

“Pick up the phone!” he shouts, like he’s desperate.   

“Hello?” the man is clearly scared, voice shaking and small.   

“Tell him your name.”   

“It’s...” He swallows, “It’s Shawn Harper.”   

There’s another gun shot, and you wish you didn’t know what a body hitting the floor sounded like.   

And that makes five innocent bodies, and one dead robber.   

“Ugh, you just killed Shawn Harper. Not me, you.” the man hisses through the phone.   

You’re going to hurl, what a sick thing to say.   

“I’m going to shoot another hostage every sixty seconds until you send in the cop.”   

You freeze. 

You try to close your eyes, and you’ve never been a very religious person... which is not common for someone from Georgia, but you find yourself begging to some god, or whoever, that you can make it out. You have to make it out.   

“Who’s next huh?”   

He grabs a woman and drags her back. Telling her to pick up the phone. Your body trembled as you tried desperately to block out the gunshot you knew you would hear.   

“Pick it up, come on. Pick it up.” he goads the woman, her sobs broken between her shaking breathes.   

“What’s your name?” he pressures.   

“No,” she gasps, “Please...” her voice broken.   

“Tell him your name!” he shouts at the woman.   

“Annie...” she gasps, swallowing a sob, “It’s Annie.”   

“Annie, you got about 30 seconds, I hope Agent Rossi doesn’t make me shoot you too.” he tells her, with fake sympathy in his voice.   

The man next to you decides that now is the time to chat. He turned to face the woman with children, he whispered something to her, and you can’t believe this man has lost his mind.   

“Hey! You! Come over here.” The robber yells at him, his gun pointing much too close to you for your liking.   

“Just let the women and children go. They don’t need to see this.” The man tried to negotiate with the robber.   

You almost scoffed, what did this guy think he was doing?   

“Pretty soon they’re gonna be doing a lot more than seeing.” The man hisses out, “Annie, you just got yourself a reprieve, get in line over there.”   

The robber grabs the man shoving him towards the phone and you sigh.   

“My name is Matthew Downs.” he speaks into the phone.   

Suddenly an officer walks through the door, his hands up in surrender.   

“Let those people go.” his accent is much thicker than yours, southern but he’s not from Georgia.   

“Alright, you, you, you, you-” he pushes the woman and two children next to you. “The kids, get out.”   

He sounds like a man who’s finally found release, like he’s getting what he’s always wanted.   

You watch the officer talk to the robbers, and you see him fall, two shots to his chest.   

You released a shaky gasp. The man, Matthew? Who was at the phone rushes over and grabs onto you. He directs you and forces you to put her hands on the officer.   

“Keep pressure on it.”   

You nod and follow his instruction easily.   

Matthew grabs the medical bag and starts instructing you on what to do. You're on the floor, holding a cloth and putting pressure heavily on the cop in front of you. He instructs the pressure is the most important and that’s what she does.   

She’s trying to breathe, steady her hands to be helpful. The officer on the ground keeps trying to talk and you are so close to panicking that you’re about to yell at this poor man bleeding out on the ground.   

“Are you armed?” Matthew asked him.   

“No.” He murmured, hissing in pain.   

“Damn... I think we might have something of a chance here.” your eyebrows were raised in surprise at his words.   

“What?” the cop looks just as confused.   

“The girls gone and the guys off his head. He doesn’t know who to trust. We can work them against each other.” Matthew whispered to both of them.   

“Wait are you a cop?” he tries to ask, still struggling.   

“A former marine.” Matthew grunts out.   

The officer is moving too much, and his blood is all over your hands. You can’t get the metallic smell out of your nose and you’re trying to keep it together.   

“You gotta listen to me, I need you to get a message to my girlfriend.” he tried to ask.   

“All right, you can tell her yourself when you get out of here.” Matthew reassures him.   

You huff and looks at the officer with determination, “I need you to not think in only death, okay? Everything looks a little bleak right now and I really need some kind of hope to hold on to. There are already five dead bodies, don’t make it six.” you hiss out at him.   

“Only I’m not getting outta here... you need someone to cause a distraction.” he murmured trying to sit up.   

“What are you doing?!” you try to push him back down but he’s surprisingly resilient for someone who was just shot.   

“Her name is Jennifer, and she’s a federal agent. You tell her I’m sorry.” the cop tells Matthew.   

The two continue to go back and forth and you can’t bother to get yourself off the ground. You're watching this officer like he’s gone mad.   

He walks on shaky legs, hobbling over to the robber. He goads him, pushing the man. Turning his trust around on its head.   

Then the robbers walking off with him to the back, and they’ve left an opening for them to escape.   

Matthew bends down to help you off the ground and shoves you out the door, and suddenly you can breathe again. Officers swarm them and escort them off to the safety of a police barricade.   

You look around, taking in the massive amounts of vans, officers, the FBI agents, and swat team.   

You're watching them move in, trying to do their jobs. Arrest the bad guys... but you watch with wide eyes the massive explosion that destroys the inside of the bank. Shooting debris out onto the ground. It really hits you, like a massive punch to your gut, how lucky you are to even be alive.   

You’re with the rest of the survivors, huddled near one of the police cruisers, all of them waiting for medics to check them and for other cops to take statements. It’s all just a blur. Everything is happening too fast and too slowly all at once. You don’t even know what the time is or how long you’ve been trapped in that bank.   

Then through the fog of your head you see something so familiar you have to do a double take to believe it.    

Spencer.   

Your Spencer, coming out of a federal vehicle in a bullet proof vest reading FBI. You'll blame the adrenaline later, but your feet start walking away from the safety of your spot and it’s like tunnel vision. you're running, and while you hear people yelling, you can’t stop. Your only goal is Spencer, he was a lifeline in this moment. A grounding figure in your shock.   

“Spencer?” your feet pound on the pavement, the loud commotion around you fading into a buzzing sound behind you. “Spencer!” you shout at him.    

With laser focus he finds you, his face filled with relief but even more worry.   

Spencer had seen you on the cameras, and it took every fiber of his being to not immediately want to drive down to barge in for you. He knew, logically, he was better helping out Garcia and looking over the maps. Every time Spencer heard a gunshot; it was a jolt of panic as his eyes scanned the cameras making sure it wasn’t you. You couldn’t die. Spencer doesn’t think he could recover from that. You’re bright and kind and the last person who deserved to be in this kind of hostage situation.    

Every second felt like an hour and his brain was whirling a million different scenarios.    

“Y/N,” he meets you halfway, holding your arms and walking you back to safety.    

“You can’t be here, this isn’t safe.” He tells you sternly, his brow furrowed in a deep line. It’s an expression you've never seen, so serious. His eyes flashed over your body trying to check if you were okay. He freezes when he sees the blood caked on your hands. He gently grabbed your hands, and it made you look down.   

“It’s not mine.” you murmured quietly.   

Spencer sighed in relief and looked back at you with more determination.   

“Just stay with the officers, okay? They will keep you safe. I promise I’ll explain but I have to do my job.” He tells you; he’s navigated you back to where you started, and he hands you off to a medic.   

You want to argue with him, but his tone leaves no room for it and your energy is fading.    

“Make sure she’s looked at.” He told the medic in a fiercely intense tone.   

“Stay with them. I will explain...later.” he said giving your arm a reassuring squeeze before he turns to leave.    

You have no energy left to try to argue. You’re just filled with exhaustion as the medic checks your vitals. You vaguely hear him talking to you, but you can’t pay attention. Your eyes never left Spencer as you follow him. He works his way around like it's second nature.   

For a moment, you realized there’s a whole part of his life that you had no idea about... he’d never told you.   

The rest of the evening goes by in a blur, you don’t touch your phone until it’s well into the late evening. Seeing missed calls from so many people. You can only find it in yourself to call your dad.    

“Magpie? Magpie, please tell me you’re okay.” Your dad’s voice rings through, warbled like he’s about to cry. Big Joe isn’t a crier, he just never has been. A pang of guilt shoots through you because you feel guilty for not calling sooner.    

“I’m, I’m safe daddy, I’m at the station.” you whispered, your voice hoarse from the smoke and underuse.    

“Oh, thank god.” The sigh of relief speaks more than his words do.   

“I’ll be home tonight, but I don’t know when I’ll be able to leave...”    

“Come home as soon as you can sweetie.”   

“I love you daddy.” your voice shakes, and it’s watery, almost on the verge of tears.   

“I love you too. Come home safe, and I mean it.” His voice is firm, but filled with warmth and it has you cracking her foundation. Tears escaped your eyes.    

She wipes them away furiously, trying to save her waterworks for when she’s alone tonight and processing what the hell even happened today.   

By the time you hang up you see a small group entering the police station, and there's a familiar mop of brown hair.    

Spencer beelines towards you. You stand to meet him, and you’re enveloped in a tight hug and whispers you can’t hear against your neck.   

“You’re safe, you’re safe.” You hear him chanting and from how he’s holding you, you realize he’s saying it for his benefit.   

The two stand in silence, holding onto each other. You really couldn’t care about the onlookers. You almost died over a stupid bank robbery; you were going to hug your best friend.   

“So, is every day this scary for you?” you asked quietly.   

“Kind of part of the job.” he chuckled moving back to look you over. His sharp eyes trying to see if there was something wrong, if you were injured.    

“So, FBI?” you tilt your head with a raised brow. “Wouldn’t have pegged you for a fed.” you teased, trying to ease the tension.   

“Behavioral Analysis Unit, specifically.” He adds.   

Your eyebrows raise, “Jesus, I need a sedative...” you murmured. “Why didn’t you tell me?”   

Spencer just shrugged, “I just needed somewhere that was for me, yeah know? Keep the work out of the personal?”    

You nodded, “Yeah well, I’d would have liked to know that when my best friends out of town, it could be life threatening.” you said with a small fake punch to his arm.    

“You worry enough about too much. Don’t worry about me.” he told you firmly.    

“That’s easier said than done.” you murmured with a frown.    

“Come on, let me take you home. I’m sure Big Joe’s worried sick.” Spencer said moving to grab your hand and lead you out.    

You just nod and follow behind him.   

-   

“Spencer, are you sure this is okay? I mean I don’t know anyone.” You asked trying to straighten out your dress.    

Spencer was behind the driver's seat in a tuxedo of his own and he was looking at your nervous gestures. He reaches over to hold your hands and squeezes.    

“I know it’s okay. Besides, you might as well meet everyone. I was going to introduce you to Garcia at the convention anyway.” He shrugs casually.     

“I promise they don’t bite; besides, you definitely know Will.” he said with a faint smirk.   

“Spencer Reid that does not count! I was applying pressure to make sure the man didn’t bleed out all over the floor of that bank!” you huff in irritation.    

“I promise you’ll get along, and if I don’t Morgan’s going to start thinking I’m taking out call girls after work.” He frowns in mild annoyance.   

“Wow, glad to know you think I'm a step up from call girl.” you said jokingly, reaching over to pat his arm. “Great pep talk Spence.”   

You move to get out of the car your giggles following. Spencer fumbles to escape the car.    

“I didn’t mean it like that!” he tried to explain.    

You put your hand up, “It’s fine, come on my nerves are definitely gone now.”   

Spencer just smiled at you, watching you smooth out your starry sky dress. The deep blue complimenting her as silver stars dangle from your ears.    

“I’ll stop while I’m ahead.” he said.    

“Good call.”   

Spencer walks you up to Rossi’s house, well, mansion. Your eyes widened a bit before turning to him.    

“Bestselling author... for multiple books.” he confirmed.    

He takes you out to the back to greet everyone’s who's there. You're distracted by the large space and beautiful displays. The flower petals on the ground, the beautiful tables, not to mention an open bar. Spencer gently guides you over to his team Hotch, Garcia, and Morgan who are gathered in a small circle.   

Before Spencer can introduce you Morgan’s already looking you up and down.   

“So, you're the little friend Reid wouldn’t tell us about?” He points at you before returning his hand to his pocket. Morgan’s charming and mischievous smile on his face.   

There’s a gasp, and Garcia gives a small, excited jump, “The bookstore girl!” She almost shouts at you. “You’re gorgeous!” She moved to hold your hands and made you do a small spin to look at your dress. “So sparkly, I like!”   

Morgan leaned over to Reid, “She might have already started drinking...”   

“Can’t believe you’d keep us a secret Reid.” Hotch teased, his arm resting around Beth’s waist pressing her closer to his side.   

“You’re all vultures, every single one. No privacy with you guys.” Spencer told them shaking his head.   

“You’re lucky you lasted this long, if I had known just a little more, I could have looked into her.”   

“That's... exactly what I’m talking about Garcia...” Spencer sighs heavily.   

“I’m Y/N, it’s really nice to meet you guys.” You introduce yourself with a smile and a small laugh.   

“So, a bookstore?” Morgan raised his brow in question.   

“Yeah! I co-own the Midnight Owl. It’s a bookstore and cafe that is open late nights to offer a space for book loving insomniacs like myself.” you said cheerfully.   

“That explains how Reid met you.” Rossi’s voice drifts in as he comes up to meet Spencer’s new friend.   

He extends his hand out to shake yours. “David Rossi, nice to meet you.”     

You give him a warm smile, “Thank you for hosting, your home is beautiful.”   

You leave Spencer for a while going to walk off with Penelope as the blonde leads you to the open bar.   

“How long have you been friends with Reid?” she asked.   

You take a sip from your drink and think, “Three years, going on four.”   

Penelope’s brows go up, “Oh he’s been keeping you a verrrrrry big secret.”   

You roll your eyes, “Well he regretted to inform me his day job was being an FBI agent.”   

“Does it matter?” The blonde asked tilting her head.   

You could feel Penelope’s piercing protective gaze on you. You shake your head. “No obviously not. He’s my best friend. I just... will probably worry ten times more about him now.” you admit.   

“They’re the best team I know.” Penelope tells you softly.   

“Won’t stop me from worrying, but thanks for trying.” you give a half smile before taking another sip.   

“I worry too, constantly.” She stage whispers to you.  

You bubble into laughter and the two make their way back over to the small group.   

Other groups of people were trickling into the back yard filling up space and chattering.   

Spencer’s nowhere to be found with his coworkers and you try to search for him, finally finding him crouched next to a small blonde child. You excuse yourself and make your way over.   

You tilt your head as you watch Spencer roll a ring between his fingers in front of the child and make the ring disappear and reappear before the boy's eyes. 

“Go on Henry,” he ruffles the blonde’s hair, “Time to go be the ring bearer. It’s a very important job.” Spencer ushers Henry off.   

“You just keep surprising me.” you whispered walking over to him.   

Spencer shrugs, “There’s a lot to find out.” he replied.   

“Have you always been this good with kids?” you asked.   

Spencer smiled, “I love them.” The way that he says it, you can see how much he wants that. To be a dad. To be in love.   

“I think you’ll make a great dad one day, if that’s anything to go by.” you tell him.   

Spencer just brushed the comment off and led you over to the altar.   

“Who knows, maybe one day.”   

[burrowdarling]

Welcome to the Prompt List

Hey there!

Below is a list of dialog prompts that can be requested for a blurb or headcanon. I do have a few guidelines:

*please read before requesting*

➭I’ll be doing each prompt request on a first come first serve basis, as to not get too many repeats (depending on interest)

➭I’ll allow a maximum of 2-3 prompts together to ensure there are plenty of options (used prompts will be crossed off)

➭If there is anything specific you would like to be included, please mention it with your prompt request.

➭Just because a prompt is under a certain theme doesn't mean it has to be, just specify if you'd like something different

Any other questions? Feel free to reach out. Otherwise, request away!

Fluff

“You’re so cute when you blush.”

“Everything alright?” “I just missed you.”

“Rough day? Can I make it better?”

"Have I told you I love you today?" "Yes, but please say it again."

“There is no better way to start the day than seeing your face.”

Flirting + Teasing

“It’s so cold, you should hold my hand, so it doesn’t freeze.” “I’m not that cold, I can give you my gloves if you want.”

“Annoying you is what I’m best at.”

“Are you trying to flirt with me?” “Yes. Is it working?”

“It must be hard with your sense of direction, never being able to find your way to a decent pickup line.”

“Oh, you’re so jealous. This is great to watch.”

Romance

"You're so red all of a sudden. Did I say something wrong?"

"I've never seen you not happy." "Maybe I've always been in good company when you've seen me."

"I thought you didn't like the show." "Yeah, but you like watching it, and I don't exactly hate it..."

“I need just one date.” “You think you can woo me with just one date?” “Absolutely.”

“You kissed me.” “You kissed me back.” “And I’m not here to apologize.”

Angst

“Just look at me. Forget everything else.”

“You don’t have to be strong all the time.”

“Tell me to stay and I will be here for as long as you’ll have me.”

“Just close your eyes. I will still be here when you open them again.”

“If you don’t know where to go, you can always come here.”

Steamy

“Don’t act innocent when we both know where your mouth was two minutes ago.”

“The way your eyes get darker when you get aroused is making me lose my mind.”

“Jealousy seems to be a great motivator for you.”

“Let’s go, I’ll buy you dinner. And maybe breakfast.”

“Tell me what you would want to do, if you were here right now.”

credit to @creativepromptsforwriting for the dialogue starters

[divatakesontruth]

Why do people teach this?

First of all I’m not a teacher or anything like that, I’m simply someone who wishes to share her experience

Now there was something Sri sarvapriyananda said

It’s a story so I’ll say it.

There was a town behind a wall, the town was drowning in poverty, there was no color in the world , everyone was so sad and were all round just suffering , and that was all they ever knew ; they didn’t know anything like joy existed.

One day three men decided to look over the wall, and they found a beautiful paradise, green, healthy , happy. It was basically heaven on earth . They were so happy to have found it

The three of them made one choice each

One decided to climb over the wall and live in that paradise.

One decided to go tell others of this beautiful paradise so that they too may find joy

While the last one decided to keep living in the old town but from a completely different point of view. The world he thought he knew was not so limited anymore and he found peace in that and that was enough for him.

All of us are just like those three men trying to look over the wall and see (the true nature of our being )

This seeming plot line doesn’t cease when you awaken , no it’s still very much here

Many awakened people can decide to live knowing they’re not a person but however still continue to live in this seemingly wicked world

Some may decide to spread the news (like Ruper spira, Sri sarvapriyananda, Ramana Maharshi, being is it, @ko-existing @i-amyou @clochettesworld etc and all the people we seemingly learn from)

While some can decide to live in paradise

It doesn’t matter as long as Self has been revealed then , Nothing can be wrong

Why? Cause what determines wrong and right? Self is all that is and whatever seemingly appears is an energetic expression of this radiance.

Rupert spira has mentioned a few times that once you take these pointers and focus on the light of awareness, when Self shines through, you can go back to experiencing the world but now the way you seemingly experience it will change.

First of all you would regard everything as an appearance and the intensity with which life held you, will no longer be there .

A particular anon has been spamming my inbox insulting me and saying I copy being is it and koda . Haha I learnt from both of them so if there are similarities they are not intentional. You were curious about a lot of things and I hoped to have answer them here , also if you really are so intelligent (as you said one time) why bother sending things like that hm? If you know it’s all not real why do you send such hate for seeming people that are all one with you ? Don’t you regard your seeming intellectual dominance as another farce created by the mind?

Anyways if you keep sending asks, i could keep reading them if that will please you so but I won’t acknowledge you anymore

For everyone else , Notice

[untildawnss]

until dawn characters overhearing their partner saying something negative about them/their relationship

just a few short drabbles about the characters' weaknesses or worse traits and how they might react to hearing a partner talking about it. and wow, this actually took a while.

kind of angsty, but the endings of most of these are kind of open for interpretation

ashley

"i don't know, i just feel like we're stuck sometimes. we're not really doing anything. it's getting kind of boring."

ashley stopped dead in front of the door to your living room. she had wanted to spend a quiet evening at home with you, like you usually did on fridays but evidently you'd had other plans. and you obviously hadn't expected her to get home early. she flexed her hands, once, twice, and opened the door. the room went quiet, you and your friends looked at ashley. "babe, you're home." you smiled, not sure whether or not ashley had heard you. "sit down, i'm gonna get you a glass of wine." you patted the couch next to you. "no thanks. i think i'd rather go and be boring," ashley grabbed her laptop from the coffee table, "in the bedroom. alone."

beth

"seriously, her sister is over all the time. i know, i know they're twins and they're close and everything but i feel like aoutsider in my own relationship sometimes because she never says no to her family and i get the short end of the stick."

beth heard your voice drifting through the open window. you were on the patio, on the phone with your best friend while hanging out the laundry. beth was in your bedroom on the floor above, changing the sheets. are you fucking kidding me? beth sucked her teeth. she knew that you knew that she'd always been the most mature and stable of the washington siblings and that they were super close. "you know," she leaned out of the window. you looked up at her, startled. "you're my family, too. and i never say no to you." - "you heard that?" you groaned. "uh, yeah, me and like the entire neighbourhood. so what's wrong with me and hannah hanging out? it's only once a week." - "nothing, it'd just be nice to be included every once in a while." beth smiled widely at you. "aw, i didn't know you wanted to hang out with us. you should have told me."

chris

"he's always doing something on his phone, sending josh some stupid video or planning another dumbass prank with him. sometimes i think he stopped maturing past the age of 16."

you heard the front door close. apparently you had missed the jingling of chris' keys while you were busy looking for a salad bowl in the kitchen. "cool, didn't know you thought that way about me." chris dropped a plastic bag on your kitchen counter. "i brought dinner, got your favourite. thought i'd come over and we could hang out, maybe watch a movie or something. but it seems like you're busy." you had turned around to face him. "chris, i didn't mean it like that. i'm sorry." he was already on his way to the door. "no, you did." - "fine, maybe i did. but it doesn't mean that i don't love you. where are you going?" he was standing in the doorway, doing fingerguns at you. "josh's place. because i'm immature like that." the door closed and you pulled out your phone. can we talk about this? you walked back to the kitchen, the smell of your favourite food filling the room. thank you for dinner. - let's talk tomorrow, like adults?

emily

"emily wants this, emily wants that. emily gets what she wants, whenever she wants. it's all about her. i think she's her own favourite person in the world and everyone else are background characters for her enjoyment."

emily's phone pinged when she received the voice message. it was intended for your best friend but you had misclicked when opening the chat without realising it. she smiled when she saw your name on the screen and eagerly tapped on the little arrow to play the message. oh. the message wasn't for her. but you had thought of her alright. was she really that bad? her phone pinged again. don't listen to that. too late, she thought. i'm sorry, i didn't mean that. but you did, she knew. because she knew she was a bitch sometimes. because she knew that she had been selfish. no, you're right. she texted back. can i have a second chance?

hannah

"can you believe it? we had a fight and now she's packing her stuff to go sleep at her sister's place. she's blowing it out of proportion. talk about overreacting. everything is drama with her."

hannah had texted her siblings to come pick her up while she was throwing clothes and toiletries into a bag. whatever you were fighting about had escalated, both of you were to blame for that. but now you couldn't even wait until she was out of the house to talk shit about her? absolutely not. she knew she was sensitive but calling her dramatic was unfair. if she stayed, neither of you would sleep tonight. both of you needed to calm down. so naturally, hannah had called her twin sister and asked if she could stay with her for a few days. and naturally, beth had gotten in her car. the place was just too small for both of you to try to avoid each other after an argument. hannah was trying to give you space but sure, she was the one overreacting, not you in the living room, knowing full well that she could hear you. "you know what? if everything's drama with me, maybe i'll do you a favour and move out." hannah zipped up her bag and made her way to the front door. she heard a clatter as you dropped your phone. "what?" hannah was putting on her shoes now. "i said," she removed the butterfly keychain from her set of keys before putting them back. "i'm moving out. we're done." she walked out of the apartment and got into beth's car.

jess

"ugh, sometimes a part of me wants to shake her and ask her to just act like a normal human being. she's not perfect, so why does she pretend to be?"

last you checked jess was in the shower for her "self care day" ritual. that usually took a while, so you put in your earphones and called a friend while you were in the kitchen preparing dinner. you had jokingly complained that her long showers would drive up the water bill because she just had to keep up that image, that she was driving herself crazy competing with no one but her own ego. you hung up when you put the dish in the oven to clean up, maybe see if jess was done in the shower and have a pre-dinner glass of wine. you walked out of the kitchen and stepped right into a small puddle in the hall. ew, wet sock. "jess, can you leave the water in the shower next time?" you walked towards the bathroom and opened the door. jess was standing there in her underwear, a towel wrapped around her head and staring at her reflection. "hey. dinner's almost ready. you want a glass of wine?" she turned around to look at you. "do you think i'm vain?" her question took you by surprise. "what?" - "do you think i'm vain? i heard you talking about me and i want to know if you think i'm vain." she looked like she was about to cry. "jess, babe, no that wasn't what i meant. it's just- you try so hard all the time but you don't even need to. i love you just the way you are. you can be a little high maintenance, though." she sighed. "i know i'm not perfect-" - "you don't need to be." - "but can i still have that glass of wine?"

josh

"i feel like his caretaker sometimes. take your meds, take care of yourself, go to bed at a reasonable hour, don't drink too much, blah blah blah. i'm so over it. at one point he has to start living for himself and not just because everyone else bends over backwards for him."

you hung up the phone and turned up the TV's volume. when you went into the kitchen to get a drink, josh was there. "hey, when did you get home?" - "while ago," he shrugged. "why didn't you say anything?" you opened the fridge, looking for something you're in the mood for. water, or maybe some wine. "heard the TV, wasn't really in the mood for that." josh tapped his heel against the cupboard behind him. "okay. you want anything?" you pointed at the contents of the fridge. "wouldn't want to be a burden." he turned his head to look at you. "wouldn't want you bending over backwards to take care of me." he clenched his teeth. "yeah, i heard that, too." you let go of the fridge door and it closed slowly. "josh, i-" you started, trying to find something to say. "it's okay. i know i'm not always the easiest person to be around. but i'm trying, i'm getting better." you reached out to touch his hand but he pulled back. "i called chris. he's coming to pick me up." - "oh, okay. when are you coming back?" - "i don't think i should."

matt

"it's like matt doesn't even have any opinions of his own. he always just agrees with me. i don't think he has made a single decision in his life, ever."

it had been a week since matt had read your message. he had been using your laptop because he had forgotten his at home and your devices were connected. he hadn't planned on reading it but saw that it was about him. he hadn't even told his sisters or ashley about it and they were usually his go to people. maybe he was bad at making decisions. he hadn't decided how to handle this situation, anyway. yeah, you'd noticed that he had pulled away and asked him if something was wrong but he had made up an excuse about an assignment he had to turn in. he was still thinking about whether to ignore that he had seen the message or try to talk to you about it when you, once again, made a decision for him. his doorbell rang and when he opened the door, there you were, smiling at him. "hey, thought i'd come over. you're done with that assignment, right? can i come in?" maybe he'd finally make a decision. "actually, no. i don't think we should see each other anymore." your face dropped. "what? why? what happened?" - "guess i'm just making a decision for the first time in my life, ever. we're over."

mike

"he's such a fucking macho sometimes. i can literally not do anything without him swooping in and taking over because he thinks he's god's gift to humanity or something. right now he's putting up a shelf because he didn't think i could handle it. it's my place."

you were in your bedroom, sending a voice message to one of your friends. mike had finished putting up the shelf and was about to knock on your bedroom door to ask you if you wanted to grab something to eat when he realised you were talking about him. wow. guess you really needed to get that off your chest. he'd always thought he was just being helpful by offering to do stuff for you. was he really that overbearing? was he a macho? mike had always thought you were grateful when you accepted his help but maybe he'd misinterpreted the way you smiled at him earlier. it did look forced but he thought it was just the stress of moving. before he could move the door opened and you were face to face with him. "mike! were you eavesdropping?" - "not on purpose! but you were kind of yelling." he shrugged. "didn't realise you thought that i was such an ass. didn't realise i was being an ass." - "you're not an ass, just-" you started. "god's gift to humanity?" he said, pretending to fix an invisible halo. "i'm sorry, i promise i will stop swooping in and taking over and wait until you ask me for help. if you still want me."

sam

"we barely spend any time together. she's always doing something, hanging out with her friends, going climbing, running or swimming. are we even in a relationship anymore or just roommates? i don't even know where she is right now."

sam was right above you, watering the plants at the top of the stairs when you walked in. you were probably talking to a family member or a friend. about her. she wasn't sure if she should say something or not. she had continued watering the same plant while listening to your conversation and the water was overflowing now. it reached her feet and soaked through her sock. "crap." downstairs she heard you mutter a quick goodbye before you called through the house. "sam? are you home?" - "yeah, i'm here." she called back from the bathroom, looking for one of the ratty towels you used for spills. you had kicked off your shoes and were walking up the stairs. "don't move, i accidentally drowned gilbert." all the plants had names. sam emerged from the bathroom and threw the towel on the ground, swiping it around with her foot to wipe up the spill. "i didn't know you were home. did you, uh, hear me just now?" sam was staring at you. "yeah," she admitted. "i don't want us to be over. but i don't want to give up who i am, either." you nodded. "i know. compromise?" sam nodded back at you. "we can try."

[homestuckreplay]

psychoanalyzing rose’s mother (because rose won’t do it)

(page 903-910)

The Skaianet Laboratory Unestablishment countdown ticks from 1:43 down to 1:34. I see those 413s being snuck in. I am genuinely at a point where if I see a number that isn’t 413 I get suspicious.

I love Rose so so much. And I love that she’s into psychoanalysis (kind of). But her saying ‘this incongruous thing? I pretend I do not see it’ is just like her saying there is ‘nothing to psychoanalyze’ about her mother’s love of wizards (p.360). She’s going in with preconceived expectations and not willing to interrogate the unexpected.

Like. Let’s look at the facts. In this massive, empty lab with thousands of twinkling boxes and no people, somebody has left a pink plastic table and chairs, a tea set, a scarf, a pink and white bed with cat, flower, heart and paw print designs, a princess themed dresser, cat stuffed toys, and WIZARD DOLLS. Pretty pink masters of the arcane with their long beards and pointy hats. Kind of a giveaway as to which local wizard-loving woman might own all this.

Rose’s mom has brought all this down to the lab, where she either works or just spends time. And she’s probably lonely down here and trying to recapture a childhood, whether that’s her own or Rose’s. We know from the pretty princess doll (p.363) that Mom likes to buy traditionally girly gifts for Rose, so this could even be old toys of Rose’s that she doesn’t even remember, her mom still playing with them to remind her of when she used to play with Rose. If Mom works here, then she’s up at this meteor terminal thinking about how one day, her daughter and anyone else they both care about are both going to be in danger from this upcoming apocalypse. And maybe she wants to hold on to the time she’s had with Rose before everything changes, or maybe she wishes she could be the one being taken care of, miles from the nearest town and with no partner or other family at home. She’s looking for comfort, she may well want to escape her own daughter’s judgment, and ultimately she has to parent herself as much as Rose does.

All this very important content is immediately overshadowed by the tiny kitten. There is a kitten hiding in the teapot. A TEAPOT SIZED KITTEN. I thought I was over this but I am not. A SMALL KITTEN!

Page 909 is composed similarly to Jade’s furry thoughts on page 797, but with the opposite emotion behind it. But clowns is clowns, and I don’t think John is scared of finding a bunch of regular ass harlequins like Dad might keep downstairs. That also wouldn’t explain why John’s always been kept from going in Dad’s room (and I could be wrong but it seems uncommon to not even know what’s inside a parent’s room). I think John is scared that his dad has a different secret. Based on the contents of Dad’s safe (p.544) I wonder if Dad is an amateur investigator who’s been looking into some of the strange phenomena associated with Skaia. Maybe John is about to encounter red-string cork boards and more tidbits about meteors, and find out that his dad is way more involved in current events than previously thought.

In page titles, ‘ascend’ first appears on page 660 and ‘descend’ not until page 840 (though the word is used in passing on both page 358 and 361). ‘Ascend’ also appears on page 759 in Nanna’s prophecy, where she states that ‘together [the Heir, Seer, Knight and Witch] will Ascend’. On page 909 the narrator treats ‘descend’ as an expectation, but it’s a fairly recent one. It’s one of my favorite things about serial fiction to see these tidbits of patterns and lore be dropped in and then woven through the narrative as if they’ve always been crucial, until it’s impossible to divorce the two. But it’s still possible to see that Homestuck characters weren’t ascending on day one.

> John: Examine room.

[leona-hawthorne]

hiii, i’m hannah! congrats on 1k! i love your writing you totally deserve it❤️❤️

i’d like to order an herbal tea please ma’am. my fav hogwarts class is potions and i’m a slytherin.

thanks soooo much!!

thank you ml!!! i hope you like this 💌🤍

1k celebration navigation latte art

ミ★ THANKS?… mattheo riddle

The air was thick with the earthy tang of crushed herbs and a faint hint of smoke, remnants of a botched potion someone had abandoned earlier. You leaned over your cauldron, carefully adding a pinch of powdered asphodel, watching the mixture swirl into a soft, luminescent green. Professor Slughorn had excused everyone twenty minutes ago, but you stayed behind to perfect the Draught of Living Death. It wasn’t just about the grade—it was the principle. You had a reputation in Potions to maintain.  

From the corner of your eye, you caught movement by the supply cupboard. Turning slightly, you noticed Mattheo Riddle. He was crouched down, rifling through jars and bottles with a carelessness that made you wince. A faint scowl tugged at your lips as he grabbed a jar, inspected it for half a second, and then tossed it back onto the shelf with a dull clink.

“You know, smashing Slughorn’s ingredients probably won’t get you out of homework,” you quipped without looking up from your cauldron.  

“Homework?” His voice came smooth and low, like the first sip of spiked butterbeer. “Do I look like someone who’s worried about homework?”  

You rolled your eyes, glancing at him. His tie was nowhere to be found, his shirt untucked with the sleeves pushed up to reveal ink-stained forearms. He stood, holding a vial of unicorn horn dust like he’d found some priceless artifact, and smirked when he caught your gaze.  

“Well, you’re clearly worried about something,” you said, gesturing vaguely at the mess he was leaving behind. “Unless this is just your idea of helping.”  

Mattheo wandered over to your table, lazily swirling the vial between his fingers. “Helping isn’t really my thing,” he admitted, leaning against the edge of your workspace. “But I am curious—what’s got you brewing that after hours? A little light poison-making for fun?”  

“It’s for the Draught of Living Death,” you said, turning back to your cauldron. “And if you don’t stop distracting me, I’m going to need it for myself.”  

“Touché.” He chuckled, setting the vial down on the table with an unnecessary flourish. “But, for the record, you’re stirring it wrong.”  

You froze, narrowing your eyes. “Excuse me?”  

“Clockwise, not counterclockwise,” he said, arms folded smugly. “Slughorn’s book is wrong about the order. If you stir it counterclockwise now, the powdered asphodel reacts too quickly with the valerian root. Your potion will split before it settles.”  

You stared at him, torn between annoyance and genuine intrigue. “And you know this… how?”  

He shrugged, a cocky tilt to his head. “Let’s just say I’ve had some practice.”  

“You? Practice?” You couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped you. “What’s next? You’re secretly top of the class?”  

“Hardly,” he said, grinning. “I’m just very… hands-on with my learning.”  

There was a flicker of something genuine in his tone, enough to make you hesitate. Against your better judgment, you switched your stirring direction, watching as the potion’s surface rippled and settled into a perfect, glassy stillness.  

“Well, would you look at that,” you muttered, begrudgingly impressed.  

“Don’t look so surprised.” His voice was teasing, but his smile was softer now. “I can be helpful when I want to be.”  

“Guess there’s a first time for everything,” you said, turning to meet his gaze.  

He was closer now, his dark curls falling haphazardly into his eyes as he watched you with a mixture of amusement and something else—something quieter. For a moment, the usual sharp edges of his presence seemed to soften, and you felt an unexpected warmth creeping up your neck.  

“Thanks, Riddle,” you said, fighting the stupid smile finding its way onto your lips.

He winked. “Call me Mattheo.”

[ak319]

Yan G!P Princess x fem reader

PART X ➺ Part IX

Your name is Deniz here

(Kade's POV)

"Here, Your Highness." My hands held the papers from Richard, but my gaze remained fixed on the wall in front of me.

9 a.m. The team will be here at 11. But what was throwing me off, keeping me on edge, was your behaviour. You were completely detached. You still had a mild fever, and God knows what exactly Father said to you. I preferred it when you were at least fighting back.

"Um, Ronan, call my wife, will you." I can't believe I am this weak, too afraid to even face you right now.

‘Is this what you wanted, Kade?’

Yes, it is. Whatever is happening, or however she feels, she’s still my wife. As she should be. You need to cope. I can't ignore reality, even if I am so deeply in love. Sometimes, I have to sit back and... let things be, however cruel they may seem. I can sense it--your defeat. It's near, and eventually, everything you consider bad or wrong in your mind will fade, leaving only my love. And I refuse to accept that this is wrong. I might accept it if someone else came along, declaring they love you more than I do, but I know that’s never going to happen. The mere thought of it made me let out a chuckle. Because there is no other me. There never will be.

Your footsteps made me alert, and I offered you a gentle, reassuring smile, though it probably went unnoticed. "Come, darling. Here, sit beside me. We need to discuss a few things."

You sat down without any protest, your hands resting in your lap, gaze distant. "You alright? Need anything? Please, just tell me, love." You responded with a disapproving sigh, and I couldn’t help but notice the lack of warmth in your eyes. "Do let me know if you do, even if it's in the middle of the interview. It’s not live, anyway." I handed you a copy of the questions, trying to ease the tension. "Um--so... here are the questions. It’s probably best we go through them ourselves first."

"Just tell me what I have to say."

A flash of frustration sparked in my chest. "No, that’s not how this is going to work, darlin. Can we have a moment, please."

"Yes, Your Royal Highness."

As soon as everyone stepped out, I turned back to you, leaning closer. "Look at me, love. Why are you shutting down like this? We’re in this together, aren’t we?" My voice softened, but my grip on your hand remained firm. "You can’t just sit there and follow a script. I want you in this, not some hollow version of yourself."

You kept your eyes down, refusing to meet mine. "Just... tell me what to fucking say. Please."

I shook my head, a dry chuckle slipping through my frustration. "Fine. If that’s what you’re so keen on, then sure, I’ll play along. But remember this, Deniz, what you say might be scripted, but what I’ll say there... it will be true." My hand tightened around yours, pulling you closer even as you tried to pull away. "Every word I say will be. I’ll make sure everyone knows just how much I love you."

I paused, exhaling to gain control over the storm of emotions swirling within me. "And if I have to make them see that you’re mine, that we belong together even when you’re like this, I’ll do it. Because no matter how you act right now, no matter how many times you try to push me away, I’m not going anywhere."

I searched your face, hoping for even a flicker of the defiance you usually had, the spark that used to meet mine. But there was only silence, and it cut deeper than any harsh words.

"Just... be casual, natural. You don’t have to do anything more than that. I’ll even let them know about your fever; that should help, take some of the pressure off." I tried to keep my voice steady, gentle, but the tension in the air was palpable. "I’m... here for you. You know that, right? Always."

Your silence lingered, stretching the space between us. It gnawed at me, stirring a frustration I struggled to swallow, but I knew it was better than getting snapped at. Right now, it felt like I was walking on thin ice, every word a potential crack beneath my feet. And with you in this fragile state, I couldn’t afford to make a wrong move.

"I love you, my princess," I whispered softly, letting the words hang in the air, hoping they might reach you, touch a part of you that still remembered us. But your expression remained distant, and the ache in my chest tightened.

With a resigned breath, I called out, "Ronan, Katie, come in." I straightened, bracing myself for the next few hours. "The sooner this gets finished, the better."

════∘◦❁◦∘════

(YOUR POV)

Five minutes left before it starts, and of course, Ewan appears at the room’s door, his eyes lingering on both of us, especially me. I knew that look, it was a subtle warning, just as I expected. And right beside him stood the Queen, Bella, with an almost sympathetic smile on her face.

Two minutes.

As the door clicked shut behind them and you settled into the couch, your eyes finally began to take in the room, drifting over everything. The interviewer made some friendly small talk with you and Kade, who gently shifted you into a more comfortable position on the sofa, her arm pressing against yours, trying to ease the tension from your body.

“Relax and just breathe.” Her whisper cut through the fog of your feverish thoughts, bringing with it the strange realization of how much... has changed. She’s beside you, her presence so familiar, so comfortable, as if you had invited her to be this close.

But you didn’t.

No, you didn’t do any of this. You don’t agree with any of it, and yet here you are, trapped in a scenario you never signed up for.

You’re caught, Deniz~

Your own mind seemed to mock you, a cruel voice echoing through the haze, leaving you questioning how you ended up here.

Don't lose your cool right now. Please. Don't cry. Don't.

The atmosphere in the room is thick with a forced sense of warmth, the kind that comes with polite smiles and scripted pleasantries. It feels like the air conditioning is too cold, but there’s a faint sheen of sweat on your skin, not just from the fever, but from the weight pressing down on you. The interviewer sits opposite you and Kade, her cheerful demeanor almost grating in its brightness as she tries to build a sense of ease. Kade's hand remains firmly on your knee, a gentle pressure that borders on possessive.

As the interview begins, the camera’s red light flicks on, and your heart stutters in your chest, the realization sinking in that everything you say here will be seen, analyzed, judged. The questions begin softly, a slow lead into more personal territory. You try to focus, but your mind is a swirl of mixed emotions, resentment, confusion, and a faint hope that somehow, this will be over soon.

The interviewer leans forward, clasping her hands with enthusiasm. “So, Kade, when did you first meet Deniz?”

Kade’s lips curl into a smile that looks warm on the surface but holds an edge you can almost feel. “Ah, I remember it vividly. It was during a high school cricket match. Deniz was bowling, and I was there for... let’s say, a friendly obligation.” Her gaze shifts briefly to you, her smile widening. “She was so focused, so determined. Even then, she had this fire in her. And I was just mesmerised. I thought, ‘Here’s someone who knows what she wants.’ It… intrigued me,” It’s a version of the story that leaves out the years of distance, the way she’d re-entered your life with a determination that left you with little choice.

The interviewer’s attention shifts to you, her curiosity genuine. “And what was your first impression of Kade, Deniz?”

You open your mouth, but the words feel trapped, caught in the tangle of thoughts that your feverish brain can barely unravel. You clear your throat, forcing your voice to stay steady. “It’s funny, back then, I was just focused on the game. Never thought I’d end up catching a princess’s eye,” you add, a saccharine edge to your tone as you look at Kade. “I guess you could say I wasn’t really looking for anything… or anyone, at that time.”” Your voice sounds distant to your own ears, and you hope it’s enough. You hope she’ll let it go.

Kade’s hand tightens slightly on your knee, and she gives a low, soft chuckle. “She’s always been humble like that. But for me, I couldn’t take my eyes off her.”

“But fate has a funny way of bringing people together, doesn’t it?” She says smoothly, her arm wrapping a bit more firmly around you, holding you in place even as your mind yearns to drift far away from the room.

The interviewer, blissfully unaware, nods along , a blush covering her own cheeks, charmed by the sentiment.

“And then, you two met again years later or...?” Sarah continues, trying to maintain the flow of the story.

“Yes, fate has a funny way of bringing people back together,” Kade replies smoothly before you can gather your thoughts. “It was like no time had passed, really. We reconnected almost instantly, and... well, the rest is history.”

You swallow thickly, trying to keep your own voice steady as you add, “Yeah, we… we met again, and things just… happened. Happened in a way I never expected, almost.” Your chuckle was soft, eyes dropping to your lap. You wanted to bury yourself in the ground. Your parents and Clara will watch this shit too, you realized.

The next question shifts to Kade once more, a simple one about how long you’ve been together, but she spins the answer into a tale of persistence and love that you barely recognize. “We’ve been together for a few years now, but honestly, it feels like a lifetime,” she says, casting you a smile that’s too perfect, too deliberate. “And I wouldn’t trade a moment of it. I mean, she for me possessed everything that I loved, a good spirit, the charm, the humour. That smile. Everything." Which translates to 'I have been stalking her for years and have been together in my own head'.

Asshole.

You nod along, your mind barely processing her words. You feel adrift, your thoughts tangled between the memories of what really happened and the story she’s weaving. Part of you wants to speak up, to say something real, but the weight of the moment crushes your voice. The cameras, the interviewer’s expectant eyes, the almost invisible pressure of Kade’s grip, all of it keeps you silent, playing along in a scene where the script isn’t yours.

The wife of the ex-playgirl Princess is what you are now it seems.

Kade’s voice continues, carrying the conversation forward, her tone polished and confident, while yours slips further into the background. She’s in control of this, just like she always is. You wonder if anyone else in the room can feel the undercurrent of tension, the way each of her words lands like a small, calculated blow.

════∘◦❁◦∘════

Kade’s lips brushed over your knuckles, and her words held a practiced softness, but you knew better. “See, darling? You did so well,” she cooed, her gaze steady, as if willing you to agree. The room buzzed around her, the team finishing up their last-minute checks on the footage, but all you could focus on was the way her grip never quite loosened.

You were exhausted, body and mind. The retakes had dragged on each one pulled from you with a tension you could barely mask by the end.

“Kay, so, let's go and have your medicine and some snacks,” she said, her tone sweetened but laced with that unmistakable firmness. Her hand remained entwined with yours, guiding you as if you were too fragile to walk on your own, or maybe too dangerous to leave unguarded. “Then we’ll get some photos taken. After that, you can rest, princess.”

Rest. You almost laughed at the irony. The way she said it, like it was a reward rather than just a moment to catch your breath.

Kade’s smile grew, pleased with your compliance, and she leaned in closer, her voice lowering just for you. “You’ll feel better soon, I promise,” she murmured against your ear, her tone gentle but carrying that familiar undercurrent.

════∘◦❁◦∘════

The dining room was heavy with expectation as Kade’s voice cut through the silence, drawing everyone’s attention to the matter at hand. A tension that belied the way she held her glass.

“So? What did you decide, Father?” Her voice was measured, but you could sense the undercurrent of urgency in her tone.

Ewan, ever composed, met her gaze with a hint of amusement. “About? Your house, you mean?” He allowed the question to hang in the air as Kade nodded, sipping her drink in a bid to appear relaxed.

“Well... you both did well.” Ewan’s gaze shifted to you for a moment, offering a vague, almost formal acknowledgment. It was one of those moments where you could almost feel the hierarchy of the family pressing down on you, an unspoken reminder of where you stood in all this.

“And, as for your coronation, I was thinking in November.”

You felt Kade stiffen beside you, the tension in her shoulders apparent as she tried to mask her reaction. “I mean, that’s, thank you, but do you mean to say we have to stay here till then?”

“I mean, your call. If you want to move early, then sure." Ewan’s tone was definitive, as if the matter were already settled, the decision made long before this dinner.

Before Kade could respond, Bella’s voice joined the conversation, smooth as ever. “Your father decided on York House, in Kingsreach.” She offered a polite smile, as though trying to soften the news. But the air in the room only seemed to grow colder.

Kade’s knuckles whitened against her glass, and you could feel the frustration radiating from her. She tried to keep her voice steady, but there was an edge to it, a subtle irritation that wasn’t lost on you or on Ewan.

“I appreciate your thoughts, truly, but I just don’t understand why you wouldn’t consider Ravenstone. It’s quiet, secluded. I think it would be a better fit for us.” She tried to keep her smile pleasant, but you could see the underlying tension tugging at the corners of her mouth.

Ewan, however, seemed unmoved, offering a tight smile. “Ravenstone is lovely, but this isn’t just about you, Kade. Kingsreach offers a better balance. It’s closer to the city, to Buckingham, which means you’re accessible for your duties while still having your privacy.” He paused, letting his words sink in. “Besides, you and Deniz are still... adjusting to things. A place like Kingsreach will make it easier for both of you to settle, without the isolation of the countryside. I think it's for the best.”

Kade’s grip on her glass tightened again, her jaw clenching briefly. “I don’t see why you would make that decision for us. I thought this was our choice.”

“It’s a family decision, Kade,” Ewan responded evenly, leaning back in his chair. “And as much as I value your opinion, I’m thinking about the long-term.”

You could feel Kade’s frustration building beside you, a storm that was barely held back, but she forced a tight smile. “Right, because it’s always about what you think is best for us.” Her voice was sharper now, a challenge in her eyes as she stared back at him. You found yourself shrinking in your seat, wanting to disappear from the tension, but Ewan’s gaze found you again, lingering as if to gauge your reaction.

Bella stepped in smoothly, trying to ease the tension. “Kade, darling, we’re not saying it’s set in stone. It’s just a suggestion. But Kingsreach does have its advantages, especially as you prepare for the coronation.”

Kade’s expression softened slightly at her mother’s words, but the rigidity in her shoulders remained. She glanced at you, searching for support, but you looked away. Part of you understood Kade’s desire for Ravenstone--a place that would have allowed her to perhaps isolate you?. Another part of you felt the weight of Ewan’s logic, knowing that staying closer to the palace meant less friction, fewer battles to fight. You feeling more at home here.

The silence settled over the table again, thick and uncomfortable. Kade finally looked back at Ewan, forcing a smile. “We’ll think about it, Father. But I still believe Ravenstone has... potential.”

Ewan’s smile remained polite, but there was an unmistakable finality in his tone as he replied, “Of course, Kade. Take your time to consider it. But remember, there’s wisdom in seeing beyond just what we want.”

“Right. I just, I always wanted to move to Ravenstone. I love it. And it’s just... supposed to be mine. York, Kingsreach? Seriously? Where Romana lives too?” Kade’s voice carried an edge of bitterness, and you could sense how badly she wanted to cling to the dream of Ravenstone.

What the fuck is going on? Is this really what rich people fight over? It felt surreal like you were watching some twisted sitcom play out. The fights back home were over who ate the last piece of dessert or swiped the best leftovers from the fridge, but never this.

Ewan’s gaze darkened, but he kept his tone even, trying to reason with her. “What’s wrong with being with your sister?”

Kade’s frustration spilled over. “I want privacy! Something of my own. For my future family.” Her words sent a jolt through you, like ice in your veins. Family? Your thoughts spiraled, panic rising in your chest. She was already thinking about kids, of tying you even closer, of sealing this life together permanently. No, no, no. NO! SOMEBODY KILL ME ALREADY--

You hesitated but couldn't stop yourself from muttering, “Isn’t Buckingham... good? It's fine here.” The words slipped out before you could catch them.

“Deniz. Hush now.” Kade’s words cut through the air like a cold blade. Her voice was low but sharp, a tone she had never used with you before. It made you flinch, and a flush of embarrassment crept up your neck. Your chest tightened as her command sank in, leaving you feeling small and exposed. Even the three others exchanged startled glances.

The audacity.

You couldn’t quite process what hurt more, Kade’s uncharacteristic order, or the way it seemed to strip away the last remnants of any illusion you’d held. That despite everything she’d done, the manipulations and deceit, she had always treated you with a veneer of gentleness before. Now, was that gone? Did...you do something so bad? Maybe she's just frustrated right now.

"We will talk about this later." Ewan shut down the conversation and left everyone to their own thoughts.

(AN: comment below to get tagged for this fic🫶)