#There's not the same level of urgency but there Is still the fun of finally getting to share :)

[sysig]

Your Weekly TV Guide

On Monday you can expect:

2:30 PM: Requestober Announcement!

And Tuesday:

2:30 PM: Star Control II - Helix

Wednesday:

2:30 PM: SCII - Helix

Thursday:

2:30 PM: Wander Over Yonder/Star Control II

Friday:

2:30 PM: SCII

Saturday:

2:30 PM: SCII - Helix plushie concepts

Sunday:

2:30 PM: SCII - Helix

Thanks for tuning in! (Patreon)

[sanakimohara]

“COLA” - B.C.

“I got a taste for men who are older…”

Synopsis: Having a crush on her best friend’s older brother was a secret Y/n L/n had managed to hide for years. She presumed those feelings had disappeared over time, but when Chris—or rather, Chan, as he’s called by the rest of the world—makes a surprise visit to Australia to spend his last break of the year with his family, Y/N is bewildered to find that she, in fact, is still infatuated with her best friend's brother. Unbeknownst to her, Chan is already well aware of it and isn’t above taking advantage of her innocent crush on him. All fun and games, right?

WARNINGS: [MDNI! 18+] pining, fluff, smut, a bit of angst, cursing, smoking, and alcohol use. oh and the DDGL dynamic is implied…

A/N: Let’s hope I don’t scrap this and at least finish writing it…also Chan is his current age 25 and the reader is 18+

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*click click click*

The pen in her hand chirped the sound repeatedly as she anxiously toyed with it. Her foot tapped under the desk she sat at, another sign of her stress level rising and a less noisy indicator of nervousness to her peers seated around her. Y/N took a deep breath, trying to clear her racing mind for a split second to conjure up an answer to the question printed on the paper in front of her.

It seemed impossible to focus on the invisible weight of perfectionism that she subconsciously mounted. It was just a test. A written one. No big deal. She’d been completing assessments like this all year. However, the notion of it being the final and most important test of the year had Y/n second-guessing knowledge she’d consumed tirelessly throughout the year. Her bottom lip caught between her teeth as she inhaled and exhaled as slowly as her body would allow her to before her gaze refocused on the question.

She scanned it once, then twice; the answer to it eventually peeked through the fog that was her brain. She jotted it down with urgency before flipping the paper over to signal she was done. The professor monitoring the room full of boarding students lifts their heads at the sound of a paper turning. To no surprise, Y/N is the culprit of the clumsy noise but receives no reprimand from the instructor. Instead, they smile and motion for the young woman to hand her packet of questions in.

Y/N wastes no time in doing so, gathering her personal belongings before retrieving the paper. She cautiously descends the stairs that lead towards the professor's desk, and when she reaches her destination, she smiles sweetly and places the packet in the professor’s waiting hand. “You had me worried for a moment Ms, L/n,” they joke with a knowing smile and said girl nervously glanced at her shoes before answering in a hushed voice with a coy smile. “I was worried for myself actually…” It’s the truth. Her anxiety always worsened under pressure -especially during tests.

The professor maintained their smile and began grading her packet which slightly unnerved Y/n. “I don’t see why you’d be worried Ms. L/n. Your work has been exceptional the whole year….” The paused, pen pointed right at Y/n, “…you shouldn’t worry so much all the time. You can relax sometimes, it’s healthy for you, you know?” Y/n nodded, internally grimacing as they repeated advice she’d heard a thousand times before, but found it increasingly harder to do in a prestigious school without a single friend there to “relax” with.

She wasn’t a social butterfly but she did prefer the company of friends she’d grown close to throughout her childhood. Unfortunately, most of them attended other universities, started a family early, or just down right fell of the face of the earth at some point. The only person she had left to spend time with was Hannah Bang. Her best friend since grade school who had chosen to attained university closer to her family.

Y/n wished she could’ve done the same but her parents would never allow it, so here she was being told to find joy in her life of education without a single person to do so with. “I’ll keep that in mind Professor. May I leave now?” Y/n already knew they wouldn’t deny her request since it was the last day of the semester but as polite as she was walking out without properly asking didn’t seem right.

The professor stared at her a bit longer, a sort of concern swimming in their eyes as they processed her question. A moment passed and then the instructor wished her a good break and allowed her to leave with a simple nod of their head. Y/n let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding as she exited the cathedral like seminar room and entered the limestone halls of the large campus.

Not many students were out and about and even less took notice of her so she pulled her phone out and checked her messages. A smile appeared on her face as a new message alert from Hannah Bang shown on her screen.

>> You’re still coming right? 🤨

Y/n rolled her eyes at Hannah’s sarcasm. She could practically hear Hannah asking her this with a trademark snicker in her tone.

<< yes, I wouldn’t miss it for the world :)

>> Yes you actually would. Well, for a test or smth 🙄

<< wow you got me there Han…

>> I in fact do.

>> no but seriously…

>> I won’t forgive you if you cancel last minute like you did last year.. :(

Y/n cringes remembering how she backed out of her plans with Hannah last minute last holiday. There were a mixture of reasons she’d canceled but the main and most truthful reason was because Hannah had mentioned her older brother would also be at home for the holidays.

Like a coward, Y/n immediately backed out of staying with the Bang family hearing the news that he was there. She felt so ashamed and selfish of that decision and so when Hannah offered Y/n a chance to spend her break with them again this year she couldn’t bring herself to refuse.

It also helped that Hannah mentioned her older brother wouldn’t be making appearance like last time. Y/n gulped, face turning rose red, tummy doing backflips as the thought of seeing Christopher Bang in the flesh again caused her to malfunction. She chewed on her inner cheek, mindlessly wandering to lean up against a nearby wall as the few memories of him she’d religiously studied for years flooded her head. It was like all the logic left and all she could think about was him. After all these years she’d thought he’d be a distant memory or at least a less vivid one.

That just wasn’t the case though and no matter how many times she denied her attraction to Hannah’s older brother, the mere mention of him had her dumbfounded with adoration.

*buzz buzz*

Y/n snapped out of her lovesick daze as her phone vibrated. She’d totally forgotten to answer Hannah’s text and tried not face palm herself for it.

>> Leaving me on read is so mean.

<< Shush you’ll survive Han. I just blanked for a minute sorry.

>> Sure whatever you say 😔

<< don’t try to guilt me Han. You leave me on read like 99 % of the time

>> damn you got me there.

>> okay so you’re coming right? My mom keeps asking me so hurry up and decide!

<< I said you yes I’ll be there Han…

<< Just to be clear though….Chris won’t be there this year right?

>> …no why?

>> are you mad at him for something cause you asked me that last year too..🤨

<< NO I’m not mad at him lol!…

<< I was just wondering cause ya know he seems so busy in Korea with his band.

>> Oh I see.. I forget that you’re a closeted Stay sometimes.

>> No, he won’t be here though. Told our dad him and the members have too many end of the year award shows to preform at this time.

Y/n relaxed her body reading Hannah’s last text. A twinge of disappointment hit her heart but overall she was glad Chris wouldn’t be an obstacle in her break. Besides being attracted to him, her and Chris got along fairly well the few times she’d interacted with him while hanging out with Hannah. Due to his career and their slight age gap there wasn’t much Y/n could hold a conversation with him about and it was no help that she was in fact a fan of Stray Kids since their debut.

The pride she felt watching them on stage -watching Chan perform- was immeasurable but she assumed if he ever found out about her love for his idol activities he’d avoid her entirely.

A double edged sword that Y/n wasn’t fond of.

She told herself it wouldn’t be an issue this year though. Spending time with Hannah and Mrs & Mr Bang was all she wanted. Her family weren’t very….warm to be around. Especially not around the holidays so she preferred the company and hospitality of the Bang family anytime they offered it.

Y/n pushed her body off the cold stone wall, continuing her walk to her dorm suit across the campus as she texted Hannah back.

<< okay.

<< omw to start packing, see you in like 5 hours i think?..

>> your uni is only 4 hours away dummy…but yeah I’ll see you then :)

She shut her phone off, slipping it into her bag of belongings, and continuing on her way towards her dorm.

The whole walk there she was smiling, already reminding about the time she’d spent with the Bang family. How Hannah was and always will be her favorite person but most of all Chris, and the way his presence melted over her existence like warm honey.

As much as she wanted to taste its divine sweetness she knew it’d only make a mess of things…

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This was a series posted on my main acc but I decided to move it here. Please lmk what you think and if I should continue it. I already have PT2 in the works…

BONUS CONTENT +

[sanjiaftersex]

Sanji during Water 7 and Enies Lobby :

"Who the hell are you?"

GET HIM, CUNTJI

I firmly stand by the point that the strawhats would fall apart and Robin would be taken if sanji (and zoro) were not present during water 7 and Enies lobby. These are some of the things i loved the most about sanji during Water7 and Enies Lobby arcs :

(1) Protecting the captain AND the crew : When Luffy and usopp were fighting over merry, at one point sanji instantly kicks Luffy to shut him up.

His empathy, protectiveness and foresight really shines here. He knew that Luffy wouldnt be able to forgive himself if he kicked Usopp out, but at the heat of the moment he was about to do just that. So he protected Luffy and became the voice of reason in Luffy's incredibly vulnerable moment.

At the same time, sanji showed empathy towards Usopp by standing up for him. During this fight, Usopp was physically and mentally weak, and seeing that at least one of his crewmates stopped the captain actually helped usopp feel like less alienated in the crew. This way Sanji became the (violent) rock for both Luffy and usopp in that moment.

(2) Trust : Some people make fun of this panel but all the Strawhats were deeply CONFUSED with Robin's participation in iceburg's assassination (which is normal cz she hadnt been with them for long and she was an enemy before joining the crew). But sanji could tell that she was lying and he trusted his crewmate (NOT BECAUSE SHE IS A WOMAN). Sanji never doubted Robin's intentions for even a moment and he was fully prepared to go save her (not question or clarify with her like the others wanted to) from the very first moment.

(3) Bravery :

Robin was scared out of her skull during this arc even though she was putting up a tough front at first. But sanji understood her desperation and the urgency of the situation. And like a dumbass, he got on the train ON HIS OWN after leaving a message to nami. Franky and usopp being there was his dumb luck but he would've been dead with the choice he made in water 7.

(4) Chivalry : It can't be a sanji admiration post without mentioning his endless chivalry. People may call him a pervert (which he is). But he actually respects women and he stood firm on his morals even in the face of death. This is a real Prince like man he didn't counter-attack kalifa even though she broke his teeth, turned him into a block of soap and pushed him from a high floor.

(4) in a crisis situation sanji showed Usopp that he believed in his capabilities, not with sympathy but with logic. Even in the face of danger he was sharp in the mind and empathetic towards his friend. This eventually led to Usopp actually succeeding to snipe the keys to robin and franky on the bridge of hesitation and that move is what saved Robin from being dragged to the gates of justice.

We can see how Sanji's words encouraged Usopp and propelled him into action.

(5) Intelligence :

While on the train, sanji devised a plan to rescue Robin before reaching Enies Lobby.

At enies lobby when they were up against the the Government's elite assassinators, Sanji came up with the plan to collect the keys and save Robin.

The strawhats would be deadmeats if sanji didnt sneak out mid fight to close the gates of justice. The whirlpool is what let the strawhats escape. So, Sanji's foresight and intelligence is what finally saved his crew from a national level buster call.

(6) Emotional Intelligence :

Sanji quietly kept tabs on Usopp from time to time the entire period he was out of the crew. Let's all acknowledge Usopp would've probably died in that Aqua Laguna if sanji (and chopper) didn't go warn him about it. And he was very considerate in the way he didn't do it directly to not hurt usopp's pride.

Moreover in the water 7 filler arc we can see how sanji was still keeping an eye on Usopp and that he was planning to return to the crew. He didn't cut off his friend just because the crew was going through a rough phase.

(Someone joked how Usopp probably had to be put on suicide watch during water 7 and i was like THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT SANJI HAD BEEN DOING THE ENTIRE TIME THANKS FOR NOTICING )

[brabblesblog]

Hope

Part 7 of the Goodnight Moon series.

After your disastrous confession, Astarion finally manages to tell you what he feels. Aka the confession scene from act 2, rewritten.

Read on AO3.

Part 6

Part 8

Masterlist.

"Do you have a moment? I think we need to talk."

Your eyes flick up to meet wide crimson ones, watching you with an expression you couldn't really put into words. The two of you had been avoiding each other after the last time he kissed you - well, you had been avoiding him, anyway. It didn't feel right after what he had said.

I don't do love. Let's just keep this fun, alright?

After that last kiss, you knew you couldn't bear any more of his touch than was necessary. You knew it would give you momentary joy, only to break your heart right after. So you kept your distance. Less painful that way.

You can feed on me tonight, if you'd like, would be the only thing you'd say, and once he'd agreed you would walk away, forcing your legs to move in the opposite direction. More than once you've heard him attempt to say something, but you've slowly mastered pretending to be deaf as you marched yourself away from the one person who mattered to you.

He would still come at night, the situation in the shadow cursed lands necessitating that he feed on you. You would talk, but it would always be surface level. He'd reach for your clenched fists as he always did before, but you would shy away from his touch. Eventually he stopped trying.

Today had been a tiring day, like all the others lately. You had taken your usual spot by the fire, reading a book. The story was one you've read before as a child, but the familiarity was a comfort in these dreary lands.

Astarion was biting his lip, looking rather unsure of himself. This was such an odd thing to see, and concern flooded your face. You stand up, tossing the book towards your pack.

"Are you alright?"

He winces a little at the question, then lets out a soft huff. The next words come out in a nervous burst.

"Oh yes, I'm fine. I just... I feel awful."

Your eyes scan him up and down, trying to figure out what was wrong. Was he hungry or injured? He never asked to feed after that first day, but there was always a chance.

"Look-" he begins, and there was so much urgency in that word that your eyes immediately snap back to his face.

"I had a plan. A nice, simple plan - seduce you, sleep with you, manipulate your feelings so you'd never turn on me."

He laughs - a nervous, terrified sound - and pushes through.

"It was easy - instinctive. Habits from two hundred years of charming people kicked in. All you had to do was fall for it."

It was your turn to bite your lip and cross your arms. So that was what it all was. The sex, those sweet words, the coldness and distance every time he took you to bed.

He noticed your body language, and he shrank away in response. He knew what the potential outcome for this conversation would be, but he needed you to know. To hold his heart in your hands and to know everything that was in it.

"And all I had to do was not fall for you... which is where my nice, simple plan fell apart."

His voice grew soft, almost cracking. His eyes met yours, searching for anything that would tell him how you felt. They had never been more soft, you think to yourself.

"You- ... you're incredible. You deserve something real. I want us to be something real."

He watches you with bated breath. The world falls silent, just him hanging onto the next thing you'll say. You shift your feet to buy some time. It hurt, hearing that. You had suspected something similar, but to hear it felt like your heart was being torn out. At the same time, you understood.

"So... the nights we spent together didn't mean anything?"

You had to know. They had meant so much to you.

He almost sounds exasperated, which would be funny in any other situation, but not right now.

"Of course they did - that's the problem! Or part of it." He grows serious, expression darkening.

"Being close to someone - any kind of intimacy - was something I performed to lure people back for him. Even though I know things between us are different, being with someone still feels... tainted. Still brings up those feelings of disgust and loathing."

He takes a shaky breath, eyes soft again. Pleading for you to understand.

"I don't know how else to be with someone. No matter how much I'd like to."

You nod, once. It stung, and that pit in your chest felt like it could spill out and extinguish everything if you let it. You take a couple of moments to answer, calming yourself. You can deal with your issues later. For now, he needed you to be strong.

"I care about you. Deeply."

He already knew this, heard you say it, but this time was different. Something stirred in his chest, something which had never allowed himself to have in so long. Hope.

"Really?"

You close the distance, wrapping your arms around him. He winces, not knowing what to expect, then freezes as he feels you all around him. The shock slowly fades, replaced with an overwhelming warmth erupting from his chest. Slowly, he returns your embrace, tucking his head against your shoulder.

As you two hug, you open your mind to him, showing him the truth - that you have loved him for a while now, that you wanted him not just in the way he thought you did. You wanted him safe, wanted him happy, wanted him to have everything he deserved and did not get. That his joy brought you joy, whether it be with you or without you. Try as you might though, a little bit of the pain you feel bleeds through to him. He sighs at the contact, wanting it to last forever, and when you pull away he almost begs you to not do so.

"You... you are full of surprises, aren't you?"

He's almost breathless. He knows there is work to be done, and that neither you nor him know what it really means.

"Honestly, I have no idea what we're doing. Or what comes next."

He gathers his courage and takes your hand, meeting your eyes, hoping that you understand that despite how it had all started, he does mean it now. That he had been falling for you for some time as well, but that he did not know how to approach it, or see it until it he was drowning in it. That the guilt he feels for manipulating you had been eating him up inside. That he could never bear seeing you hurt, especially after that day in the creche. He wishes he could show it to you like you had for him, but it still feels like too much.

"But I know that this? This is nice."

I will show you. I promise, he tells you in his head.

[callsignfate]

Strawberry Cream Cheese Bagel.

Laswell x Wife Fluff written for all of Laswells wives who need some soft Fluff! This was written for fun, so it's a small little blurb again. I have more to post, though, so don't worry! There is tons of content for today!

Tw: None, just some soft fluff.

Masterlist/ More like this/ Request

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡

Your tired eyes flittering open and closed slowly as you waited patiently at the counter in front of the toaster with the butter knife in your hand. You leaned over the counter using your elbow to prop yourself up while you waited.

You always set your alarm for this shockingly early of an hour so you could do your 'normal'. So you could listen to the soft morning rain, snow, or fog, depending on the day. You always woke up on the first loud chime of the alarm and shut it off quickly, looking over to see Kate still sleeping soundly, as always.

You snuck out of the room carefully, grabbing the set of pre-picked out clothes by the door so you wouldn't make any more unneeded noise that would wake her up.

You always used the bathroom next to the kitchen, usually deemed the guest bathroom, so the lights and doors being opened and closed wouldn't wake your wife. You had learned the hard way over the years that using the bathroom attached to your bedroom always woke her up.

Next you started the coffee maker, putting in her normal coffee pod, filling it with water, and putting her favorite cup you washed moments before in the sink, under the spout of the coffee maker and hitting the same small worn out button, no text to tell you what it did, but it didn't matter.

You then cut the bagles you always bought, the same ones for the past five years. Grabbing the cream cheese from the fridge, also the same. One you had tried and liked once, strawberry. The flavor always tasting like strawberry candy on top of the same sweet bagel.

You always cut two, always pushing down the both sides of the toaster at the same time, the same level. Not that the small dials or buttons had their numbers on them, they worn off over the years of use. It was a ritual you adored. You never would explain why, not to anyone.

The bagels finally popped up, tearing you away from your thoughts. You slathered the bagels quickly in the strawberry cream cheese before moving to sit at the end of the table that was closest to the hallway, your wife's coffee already in her cup waiting for her next to your plate of untouched warm bagels.

Kate finally came rushing in, still throwing on her jacket and adjusting her belt as she mumbled a quick 'good morning' with the morning groggyness and a slight hint of urgency in her tone. She grabbed her cup, twisting on the lid and giving you a quick kiss on your temple.

Her hand moved to grab the bagel off of your plate, the same bagel you always made, taking a bite and trying to get the same departing words she always said with her mouth full of bagel.

"Love you, I'll be home soon, call me if you need me."

Her mouth was full, but you already knew them well enough to know what she had said. The silence washed over the house as you picked up he bagel and took a bite, chewing slowly as you smiled. You hated strawberry cream cheese. When you first bought it to try, Kate took the first bite and said it was delicious, like strawberry cake her mother made when she was a kid.

The taste for you over the years became repetitive, but you refused to change it to try to find a new flavor. You considered many times to replace it, looking at different flavors every time you'd go to buy the same one. Contemplating even going back to the bland flavor of normal cream cheese, you knew that you wouldn't get the same memory every time you bit into one, every morning.

The soft smile as she took a bite, the surprise and joy as she told you about the flavor reminding her of her birthdays and childhood because she swore it tasted exactly like the cake her mother made. Watching her eyes light up as she would talk about the frosting decorations, the intricate designs her mother would put on just for her.

It was the first time she had talked much about her mother, her childhood, and you refused to let it go, you refused to change the cream cheese even if it meant driving to different stores out of the way to find it.

Her eyes light up the same way every time she would 'steal' a bagel off of your plate, not knowing you made one for her. Knowing otherwise, she wouldn't eat, knowing she would say she didn't have the time.

So every morning, you make sure you're there in the same spot with her bagel and coffee so she can sleep in and get as much sleep as she can. You make sure to get the same exact brand of cream cheese so she can enjoy the memory, the feeling one more time, so you can witness her bite into bagel and get that same soft smile.

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡

Masterlist/ More like this/ Request

[clatterbane]

I was also maybe a little low on patience after the fun I've been having the past day or so with my last phone that already had the sketchy USB port and (unsurprisingly) declining battery life. It is an S20 from 2020, and I did already get this replacement. (Thus even less urgency with doing anything about that thrashed screen protector which looks even worse in this lighting...)

It fell screen side down in the floor and hit the base of some metal shelving just wrong. So, now it's doing this shit. 🙃 Started out with a single green line like it gets when I plug it in here, and the very top of the screen very erratically responding to touch input. The screen also won't turn on unless it's put on charge, then it's grudgingly willing to wake up.

That progressed to what you're seeing here, over the past day or so. The screen was actually behaving remarkably well here, but it goes crazier the longer it's on. Usually now the notifications bar can only be pulled down at all from a homescreen that's empty at the top, and the top centimeter or so rarely responds. It's now also registering random phantom touches and swipes while I am actively trying to use it.

So yeah, I am avoiding touching the thing any more than has been necessary to try to get some of the important final shit migrated over. And I'm really hoping the poor thing will stay somewhat functional until after Mr. C gets back in another week or so.

This has primarily been a backup phone that I've been carrying around to continue running Diabox, and the Samsung watch that I mostly even got for the handy CGM display on my wrist. Still no luck getting Diabox reading the sensor right on the Pixel, trying again--and the devs couldn't figure out the issue either after I got the new phone and tried to get it working the first go around. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Same error this time.

But, whatevs. I did get xDrip+ up and running, which is at least as good other than not being able to directly carry my old Diabox data over.

No luck yet getting the watch to connect to this phone properly either, though I did find one more thing to check--and, due to the person I am, I haven't sought advice on the GrapheneOS forum yet. Where other people do seem to have managed OK. But yeah, while I'll be pissed if my smartwatch is effectively a paperweight now? I'll cope if that is the way things play out.

What really has me worried atm, though? My hard-won BankID is still set up on the S20. And you need it here for everything from online purchases, to logging into anything official like the health portal or the weirdest assortment of commercial sites. I'm not thrilled about the whole setup from a privacy perspective (a number of things in this country, tbqh), but it is what it is. It was difficult or impossible to get SO MUCH done before I finally got set up with BankID access, and I don't want to go back there. Even temporarily.

Being a filthy foreigner with a limited bank account, I also can't just transfer it to a new device online like pretty much everyone else. That would require online banking access. (Which I really don't need to get started on now. A whole rant of its own.) Nope, I need to get the Household Swede's assistance to set up a physical appointment at the bank, so they can do it. You can't just rock up, you do need to make an appointment during the roughly 3 hours a day that they're open and deigning to deal with customers. Banks here would really rather you do handle everything online.

And I can't set that up or really physically get there without some help, frustrating as it is on so many levels.

But, that's why the hope that Borked Phone holds out at least until after he gets back from that trip. I don't know if SEB will need to even see the existing app, though one would really hope not in case of lost/stolen or comprehensively busted devices. But, who knows. My main concern on a practical level is maybe getting stuck for weeks without a functioning BankID, while trying to at least minimally function as an adult. With no onsite backup for another week and a bit.

[hillsproductions]

𝓦𝓮𝓵𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓗𝓲𝓵𝓵𝓼 𝓟𝓻𝓸𝓭𝓾𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷 !

We are a newly established production company that is set to make a mark in the world of Hollywood and beyond. Our company was born out of a sense of urgency, as we witness streaming services taking over and reshaping the landscape of media as we know it. In response, we have formed powerful partnerships with renowned stars and production companies to be at the forefront of media creation, encompassing both big and small screens, music tours, stage productions, fashion shows, and charity tournaments. We are determined to bring our vision to life and leave a lasting impact on the entertainment industry.

GENERAL INFORMATION AND GUIDELINES:

Each movie or TV show filming will span between four to six weeks, with varying locations for each project. If you decide to join, your character must adhere to the shooting schedule, premier dates, promo tours, and other related commitments.

Theatre productions and tours will also run for four to six weeks, with the same rules as mentioned above.

Charity sport tournaments / fashion shows will have a limited duration, typically lasting a few days up to a maximum of one week.

For TV, cinema, and theatre productions, numerous roles will be available, both main and supporting characters. We will initially operate on a first-come, first-served basis ( just send us a message ), but we may make adjustments to promote inclusivity. Our goal is to ensure a diverse cast and not solely rely on A-list actors to fill all roles. Every individual, regardless of their celebrity status or racial background, will have an equal opportunity to be involved.

TV shows will have the opportunity for renewal into a second season, but they may also face cancellation. Similarly, films may have the potential for sequels, prequels, or spin-offs. Additionally, we retain the right to make decisions regarding character mortality. Our aim is to maintain a level of realism throughout the roleplay experience.

Even if your character isn't an actor, they can still participate. For instance, if you want to play an influencer aspiring to be part of the acting world, Hills Production will fully support you. Additionally, various production-related roles, such as producers, directors, composers, screenwriters, and photography directors, etc. are also up for grabs. While we will have public lists, the final roster won't be definitive until the end of the sign-up period.

Finally, let's keep in mind that this page was created to foster connections and promote enjoyable roleplaying experiences. We strongly encourage maintaining a positive and friendly atmosphere, allowing everyone to have fun while participating in the production company. Emphasizing enjoyment and creativity is essential!

[a-pale-azure-moon]

Random TotK Thoughts #4

I've crossed the 100 hour mark and most of that was spent just wandering around looking for shrines, Koroks and caves, as well as doing various sidequests. I've still barely scratched the Depths and the sky and it's not from lack of wanting to but because I just keep getting sidetracked. I start each play session with some idea of what I want to accomplish and at least 50% of them end without having done that specific thing because I wound up doing something else. It's both awesome and infuriating. xD

But I finally finished a third regional phenomenon last night, so at least I've accomplished something in terms of progressing the game. And I got my 21st heart after finishing the Water Temple, so I'm finally on the second row!

-I hadn't finished the Fire Temple when I made my last entry, so in summary: really liked the concept, but I think the execution could've been better. Manipulating minecart tracks was a fun and inspired idea; I remember there was a dungeon in one of the Oracle games that had minecarts too, and it was neat seeing it used in 3D. The atmosphere was great. However, it took awhile for me to figure out the map, and navigating the dungeon without the minecarts was confusing. And again with "activate things until boss door opens." They've really run this concept into the ground and I pray it doesn't come back in the next game.

-The leadup to the temple was less fun compared to the Wind and Water Temples. I really liked the giant boss that appeared on Death Mountain, but beating it was a joke. Armor Ghoma was also very easy, if a bit annoying, and Yunobo's ability is useful but nowhere near the level of Tulin's (or Daruk's for that matter). And while the crisis for the Gorons was rather humorous, it loses points for not having the same sense of urgency as the others I've seen. Overall I give this part a B-.

-It made me so happy to see Sidon, aka the world's most handsome shark-man, again. It's also nice that Mipha still has a presence in Zora's domain, since there's now a whole place named for her and several of the Zora mention her by name. It's kind of weird how the Rito and Goron tribes don't even mention their champions.

-I really enjoyed the Zora quest line. I did get briefly stuck when I had to find the cave where Dorephan was hiding, but that was the worst of it. The underground waterworks looked awesome, and then swimming up the massive waterfall to the sky islands was cool. So was the low gravity in that whole part. It was an interesting way to make the dungeon feel "floaty" while not actually having it underwater (and it avoids swimming mechanics as a bonus).

-Even thinking about some past water-themed Zelda dungeons gives me hives (*cough*Great Bay Temple*cough*), so I braced myself for this one. Thankfully, I found it very fun with some cool puzzles, even if it was again "activate these things to access the boss." The floating water orbs were particularly neat, if a bit unruly to utilize. I fused an Opal with a Magic Staff and that made for a very handy "water gun" for cleaning out sludge, kind of like F.L.U.D.D. Would definitely recommend it for anyone who has yet to tackle this area.

-Mucktorok was incredibly annoying, easily my least favorite boss so far. The one good thing is that he's very weak, so once you can actually corner him, he goes down fast. Doubly so if you have a powerful Zora weapon, since you're guaranteed to be wet for most of the fight.

-It's really disappointing that I've had to see nearly the exact same story of the Imprisoning War three times now (and I'm assuming a fourth when I finally get to the Gerudo).

-Getting to see Sidon take the throne afterwards was a nice extra touch. I like the theme of "the next generation taking charge" that permeates this game. Overall, I rank this scenario a B+, my favorite so far. It would've gotten an A if not for the boss fight.

-Remember the days when all of the Zora except the King and Ruto looked identical? That crowd shot at Sidon's coronation really emphasizes the work Nintendo's done over the years in making all of the members of the various (non-Hylian) races of Hyrule look distinct. I feel like this is especially true of the Zora and Rito tribes.

-I got the next two Dragon's Tears as well since my last update. I wish I could say I was shocked over Sonia's murder but it was really obvious she was destined to get "fridged" sooner or later. (And it was shown right there on the carvings in the prologue...) The cutscene itself was disappointing too, because she and Zelda just stood there after the fake Zelda disappeared. If they'd at least have looked around or started to talk about what they were going to do next, it would've made things seem a whole lot less contrived.

-Ganon's evil laugh was glorious though. And oh man...I just LOVE his Demon King design. It combines the coolest elements of Demise's design and it looks amazing. This guy definitely looks the part of an omnipotent evil force.

-I love the way they animated Rauru too as he went from barely contained anger to full-on rage mode. The way his ears vibrate and he bares his teeth before his third eye opens and he lunges...he was totally ready to rip Ganon apart bare-handed right there and then.

-I would've loved to have seen Rauru actually fire a holy hand grenade for that matter. Can't help but be a little disappointed there. We already know he's going to sacrifice himself to seal Ganon away, so I only hope we get at least one more instance of seeing him do something badass before then.

-I'm probably going to wander around awhile longer before I tackle the desert. I still haven't killed my first Gleeok, so that's on the to-do list, and I want to map out more of the Depths and upgrade my batteries as well. Maybe I'll finish collecting the Dragon's Tears too. We'll see. There's still SO MUCH to do!

[ask-the-badman]

(HOPE UR IN THE MOOD FOR SOME RUSH WEEK? lol I hope this isn't too much but I thought it'd be fun to get something a lil more immersed going too <3 have thy penis heart bonerfication type love. Also, hope you get some rest and time to feel better. Tyt with this, ik it's probably lot when you're so under the weather. Lots of love and healing healthy soupies!)

Oh... god. What the hell was happening?

The sound of screams and shrills was something terribly horrifying to wake up to, but so was the panicked nudging and shaking of her shoulders. Hushed whispers of words and urgency echoing incoherently in her ears as she woke up, her head dizzying with anxiety and fear, she could hardly see straight.

"Wh-What's going on...?"

Poor girl, she tried to clear the groggy fog from her mind with a shake of her head, blinking away the blurry sleep from her vision. She was already bummed out enough that a migraine had to ruin her night, making her unable to partake in some of the sorority's festivities in preparation for Halloween. Now what else?

The one who'd woken her up urged for Bridgette to hurry up, to follow her out. But she couldn't sit around and wait for Bridgette to finally come to from her sleepy state, she'd already done her good deed by making sure she made it to see another glimpse of the same day at all, to even give her the chance to save herself.

Adjusting her half-ponytail and fixing her dainty dressing gown, she ties the cincture securely around her waist and finally pads over to the door that's been left ajar...

Peeking through the gap of it, Bridgette's hazel eyes widen, breath catching as icy fear grips her.

Is that... blood? There's no way! This has got to be a nightmare. Wake up, Bridgette, wake up!

She pinches herself, clenches her eyes shut, rubbing them, blinking. But nothing changes.

Swallowing thickly, Bridgette knows she has to accept the reality of... this freakshow. But she can't! At least, not until she hears a man's voice echoing through the halls, an obnoxious, eery laughter that makes her bones chatter. Then, she sees him— a figure clad in black moving swiftly up the stairs after another girl.

Oh god, this is happening. This is really happening!

Her pulse is running away from her, and she suddenly feels dizzy and lightheaded. Not. Now... Breathe. Focus.

She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. Pushing until her lungs were empty before sucking in another slow breath. The air already smelt... bad.

Poor thing, battling with severely disorienting levels of anxiety during daily walks of life was an unbearable toll enough, but this? How the hell is she supposed to calmly talk herself through this? To count backwards from ten? Five things she can name, see, smell, taste, touch...

But she moves along, she has to. Soon enough, coming across a knife that seems like it got left behind for something else... but would she actually be able to wield it? Is the question. Does it matter? It... makes her feel... safer? But not as safe as she'd hoped for. A knife is no use if you can't use it, if you freeze, if you miss, if you drop it.

While that psychopath seemed busy with chase, Bridgette took this time to slink around, hiding around corners and in shadows to catch and hold her shaky, uneven breathing while on the search for anything that could help.

Then all of a sudden... things seemed so... quiet. Too quiet. Hearing a heavy drop— was she... the only one left? Shit. Must have slept through half of it, at least. There's no way she would be alive by now if she hadn't. Her anxiety would have served her up on a silver platter, like a frozen deer, caught in the headlights if she'd been there, awake from the start.

Minutes dragged on like hoursa, and out of the corner of her eye, she swore she caught glimpse of that terrifying, menacing shadow... she almost screamed! But she caught herself... well, for the most part. She still let out a frightened gasp before clasping her own mouth shut, silently cursing herself out in her head as she hid around the corner behind a door.

Dammit, Bridgette... you stupid, stupid girl.

Clutching the knife to her chest like it's her damn pearls or something, hoping he didn't notice. Hoping she's safe... for now. Maybe he'll be merciful and just keep the game going. A point of grace? That's only if she wasn't too chicken shit to actually play along if things went... right? Hell. It's all wrong. She's already fucked up. Only proving herself right— she would've had no chance if it weren't somehow for that migraine, and being a heavy sleeper. Ridiculously heavy.

(Oooo Rush Week, literally just played a little before finally getting to this~ Didn’t get Johnny but did have a few fun games in the witch outfit. Course I’d be down for some Leather Daddy action, lol. And thank you, much appreciated. Definitely feeling slower than usually lately but getting around to my asks is always a nice treat. ♥)

“Mmmmm...” Johnny all but purred while watching the life slowly drain from wide, petrified, brown eyes, holding her so close to himself. Practically embracing her with one arm around her waist to press her up against him. All while his knife was buried deeply into her ribs. Hot blood gurgled from her foaming lips, he was tempted to lean down and lick it up, oh so tempted. Only to wrench the blade from her lifeless form and let her drop unceremoniously to the floor. Nothing but a limp heap at his feet.

Panting hard, he lifted his free gloved hand up to his forehead to wipe the sweat away, pushing back the errant strands of greased hair back into place while absently shaking the thick blood from his knife. He was winded and soaking wet with sweat under all the leather after chasing around so many girls, almost too many to count.. Almost...

He had staked out the Omega Sigma Theta Sorority House in Granger Hills months ago, stalked the grounds just outside to watch and wait to see how many came and went on a daily basis. A long ways from home, but he had wanted to do this for years.. So many years after having his ass beaten by around three to four women at that apartment building. Now he had taken care of six on his own in the span of around twenty minutes, unnoticed by any outside forces. He was feeling rather proud of himself and hopped up the adrenaline still circling his system.

It had turned into a madhouse after his first two kills, but goddamned was it all worth it! They had put up a good fight, but in the end he came out the victor as he reached back to rip a steak knife from his shoulder. Too fueled by adrenaline and blood lust to even notice the pain as he breathed deep, his dark eyes narrowing as he focused on his own blood dripping off the edge of the small blade.

Drink up... The Bad Man within encouraged, his eyes dilating as he slowly raised it up to his hotly panting mouth. Tongue already out to greedily lap up his reward only to glance to his blade instead. His blood or... The small knife was dropped with a light clatter to the floor as he ran his tongue up along the flat side, the tip of his hungry muscle just barely grazing the sharp edge as he dragged as much as he could off of it into his mouth. Barely letting it sit long before swallowing it down with a satisfied groan.

With his need for bloodshed satisfied, a new need was starting to make itself known. Another kind of hunger as he looked down at the young woman limp on the floor and toed at her lax body.

“Damn...” He hissed under his breath, cursing himself for not saving one for later although...

His eyes darted back and forth, digging deep into his mind to try to remember how many he had killed and hoping, maybe just maybe, he hadn’t slaughtered them all just yet. Much as he enjoyed them dead, one alive was more appealing.

Alright... first girl in the car that let me in.. chained the front gate, stole the car keys an’ cut the phone line... Then there was-- It took him a few moments to pull up every gruesome kill he could recall, --Five... Six... Se.. Seven..? Wait, there’s seven!

The grin on his face could have rivaled the Grinch himself at realizing he had missed one. Uncertain of which one, but who cares! There was one left!

Somewhere around here.

He couldn’t help licking his lips, the taste of iron still lingering on his pallet as he bounced his skinning knife in his hand. Eager to hunt down the final girl as he took off walking down one of the many halls with a heavy thump of his boots on wood flooring. There was no escape, not with the gate chained up and high walls surrounding the property, plus... she couldn’t hide forever.

Stupid as it sounded, but with the high he was on from killing.. He could swear he could... smell fear~

Maybe it was the primal feel of hunting his prey down, cornering and then killing them that had him in some kind of feral state, but the last two he had gotten were practically pissing themselves scared and it smelled divine. It would be easy enough to track down the last one, he was confident in himself as he stalked around the upstairs with haste and hunger.

Slipping through door after door until... There you are~

He heard the cut off gasp. His ears perked and honing in on a direction before bee-lining for it. Wouldn’t be long now as he entered one of the many overly filled frilly bedrooms, stepping in before looking around for his last, tasty little victim. He eyed up a wardrobe in the corner, slowly approaching it and then ripped the door open only to find it full of hung up clothing. Even digging through it a little produced nothing as he slammed it back shut, annoyed before sniffing the air.

Ugh... smells like perfume..

There was a pink puddle in the shag rug with some broken glass around it. Too overly sweet and chemically of a scent for him as he growled then went storming into the bathroom to search next, completely missing the terrified young woman hiding behind the door.

[miloscat]

[Review] Sonic Rivals (PSP)

An effective twist on Sonic platforming.

While Dimps was reinventing 2D Sonic and Sonic Team was doing... whatever it was doing on Sonic 06, Digital Eclipse/Backbone Vancouver (the one in Washington, not the one in British Columbia) was working on a 2.5D Sonic platformer. With input from Takashi Iizuka, the concept evolved into a game centred around 1v1 racing, essentially making a whole game out of the Metal Sonic race sequence in Sonic CD.

Naturally, there's more to it than that. The sidescrolling race courses/platforming stages are full of setpieces and gimmicks, twisting around in 2.5D. Typically of Sonic levels, managing to stay on a high track often gives a more streamlined path. Littered throughout are item bubbles that let you attack your opponent, functioning differently whether you're in 1st or 2nd place, but you can also barge or homing attack your rival if you're close to them. Enemy bots and hazards also proliferate to slow you down, but every setback is temporary; a hit costs a mere ten rings, and even if you run out you will still respawn quickly to continue the contest.

The wide PSP screen format is ideal for the fast-paced gameplay, which remains smooth due to choices made to render the world in charming low-poly. I played on a Vita, whose vibrant screen gives a good showing to the colourful and distinct environments. It's a great looking and performing game, which was a breath of fresh air after 06, let me tell you.

Between the racing stages are boss fights, which usually take place in circular arenas similar to half of Rush's bosses. Most of these continue the rivalry as you compete with your latest opponent to score more hits on whatever animal-themed Eggman mech has been deployed. These aren't bad, although the final boss on Eggman's rocket is a pain in the bum as you struggle to get past unrelenting turrets against a time limit.

The game takes place over four character stories. They do the same levels in the same order each time which is kind of a bummer, but it ties into learning the courses and improving your flow, which presumably feeds into the multiplayer. The character choices reflect the recently released Sonic 06 (in North America the games were first released just a week apart, making this a companion game of sorts): Sonic, Shadow, and Silver... uh, and Knuckles is here too. Metal Sonic also is unlocked after completing all four campaigns, but he doesn't get his own story.

The plot isn't too in-depth, but having the four different perspectives was kind of cool. The main thrust is Eggman's magic camera turning things into cards (giving a lore reason for the game's collectible card gallery). But wait, that's not Eggman! It's actually Rush's Eggman Nega in disguise. It's good to see my beloved Rush having an impact on other games in the series, but... sadly much like 06, Rivals retcons Rush's story again, setting Nega as Eggman's descendant from the future to better tie him to Silver's story. Also, it appears in this game that Silver has never met Sonic et al, but then again Sonic 06 timelooped itself out of existence or something, so... whatever. You know, for a story that plays out with just a few lines of unvoiced text between levels, it raises a lot of questions. Taken on its own though it works as well as it needs to.

I had a good time with Rivals. The music is upbeat and inoffensive, it plays well, and there was a decent amount of work put in to stuffing the levels full of interesting little moments, on top of having colourful and fun themes. Always striving to catch up with your rival or distance yourself from them gives a good sense of urgency to being fast and efficient, and that's backed up by the level design. I'm keen to see what Backbone do to expand on this in the sequel!

[anthonybialy]

Halfway to Dueling Firings with Bills and Sabres

Sean McDermott and Don Granato stood on different steps.  Neither will take the next one.  The duo’s canned half is still holding his bindle while trying to hitch a ride out of Erie County.  The one who’s capable of making the playoffs looks successful by comparison, which reflects how creating low expectations can fool those who never look outward.

Employee turnover means owners admitting they don’t know what they’re doing.  One fired coach will have to be sufficient.  Worrying about perception is a sure sign conditions are swell.  Pleasant results are the easiest way to shape a narrative, so forget it.  

The family finally had to admit that hockey operation was looking like a mob front.  Laundering works much better with a successful retail operation.  Terry Pegula doesn’t know a thing about running a mob.�� He prefers quasi-legal thieving with the governor’s blessing.

Pitting an entrant in slow decline against one that already declined isn’t that fun.  Teams playing different sports in the same city shouldn’t compete with each other, especially like this.  The Sabres made it to rock bottom first for sadists who track standings.  It’s been awhile.  The Pegulas’ hockey division hit it a few years ago and tried to chip through the ice.  It took extending their own regrettable record to realize that maybe hiring a qualified coach would help.

The fake savings from keeping around Granato still haven’t arrived.  The playoffs are the same.  The problem was thinking a dented coach from Ollie’s Bargain Outlet was ever an NHL head coach in the first place.  Paying less for a bargain coach meant his entire salary went to waste.  The Sabres couldn’t afford to pay less anymore.

The Sabres are done wasting seasons.  Meanwhile, the Bills face a different level of decline.  Granato should’ve been joined by McDermott.  A relief of duties with shakier justification would nonetheless address worries that he’s already topped out.  A defensive coach coaching defensively isn’t merely predictable.  Ownership copies McDermott’s style by being too tentative to fire him.

McDermott can coast for awhile if he wants.  He gets the benefit of a couple seasons because of demonstrated progress.  But management needs to determine if employees have had enough chances to show they’ve advanced in the same job.  Fretting if they’ve plateaued isn’t just for incessant social media chatter.

The sense they’re not helping that one player who’s their best hope at salvation should motivate fear of damnation.  Josh Allen is best when he’s coaching himself.  More urgency should be in order, what with a generational player who’ll be impossible to replace about to start his seventh season.  Of course, the same owner let Granato coach 274 games before admitting he proved the Peter principle a few promotions ago, so don’t expect suitable desperation just because the chance of a lifetime is ticking.

Concerns should haunt everyone’s dreams when they’re not being kept awake by them.  Every non-Chiefs franchise presently wonders if they’re doing enough to get ahead.  Timing stock sales involves the simple but not easy task of calculating if they’ve reached their zenith.  Not wanting to lose the asset while it’s still rising but getting ahead of the decline is what everyone’s always trying to do.

Both coaches adding to win totals while beginning with virtually nothing is the upside of downfall.  Advancement may seem easy when there’s nowhere to go but up.  Each team could’ve remained in the gutter, which is not the endorsement Pegula thinks.

Teams improving upon their own lousy standard shouldn’t impress fans.  Following Ralph Krueger or Rex Ryan is respectively brutally challenging.  The replacement of uniquely unqualified individuals create an easy trick.  It almost works unless people start to notice who still isn’t playing up to potential.

Optimism decreases for anyone capable of stepping back.  The Sabres suckered enough fans into thinking Granato was the answer.  The excessively loyal forgot to check if not being as bad as the worst guaranteed a wild card.

McDermott is on the Bills Coach Mount Rushmore.  But that’s by default.  Being the fourth good coach they’ve ever had is about the franchise over time more than its current state.  Nudging aside Wade Phillips is another relatively modest accomplishment.  A franchise historically known for Shakespearean woe leads to feeling grateful for even the slightest gains.  

But players got hurt.  Petition the league for an exemption.  Excuses for injuries are a sign of an underwhelming campaign.  Other teams never face employees missing games because they’re in too much agony to compete, which is really unfair.  Noting patterns is the best approach to minimizing overreaction to a surfeit of missed games during any particularly tough season.  Over time, McDermott is still overcautious.

The presidency’s winner doesn’t get to wear Thin Lizzy t-shirts to work.  There’s always something about which to gripe.  Sifting through the suggestion box to figure which are legitimate is part of the job.  McDermott has changed the Bills culture, but may have done all he can.  Meanwhile, Granato deserved to not be hired in the first place, which made his termination nothing more than confirmation.

These are nerve-wracking times for both franchises.  It’s for different reasons if you worried life was becoming too consistent.  A coaching job so poor that even Pegula couldn’t stand it any longer meant he finally did something about one of them.  Dual firings wouldn’t be out of the question.  The Bills inhabit the purgatorial category of being just good enough.

[arduadastra]

Giving Javier a handjob under the table at a gathering dinner thing

A/N: Oh, oh my LORD anon this is juicy and I have every intention of taking this way too far because once Javi enters my writing space he makes me FERAL (This man needs to be stopped and apparently all it takes is a well-placed hand) I took the liberty of this being a just them thing (Hope that's ok!)

Warnings: NSFW - NO MINORS (18+) Semi-public sex, HJ's, swearing, Javi in a button-down.

Masterlist

You and Javi had been together exactly one year to the day and you had both decided to celebrate the occasion. Neither of you were big on anniversaries but Escobar was gone, the Cali cartel were finished and you had both just wanted to be together and enjoy being safe for the first time in…well…ever.

Choosing what to do had been a struggle though, neither of you wanting to spend too much money but also wanting to do something that meant you could be alone together. It felt like you had both been constantly around others and you needed the space. Eventually, after one too many arguments (Javi had put his foot down when you mentioned the mall and a movie) you decided on dinner.

You were both a bit clueless to the area, spending most of your time either on stakeouts out of the city or in the embassy so you had relied on Murphy’s recommendation for the restaurant and you had to say, the guy had good taste. It was quiet, not overly fancy but still had the atmosphere that meant dressing up was encouraged. It was cosy, exposed bricks and small lamps lighting the tables in a soft hue and when you sat down in the booth you couldn’t help but admire how the soft shadows danced across Javi’s face.

Your admiration certainly didn’t stop there. Javier had definitely pulled out all the stops for tonight and you were loving every second. He had chosen a dark suit with no tie, just a white shirt with the first few buttons left open that exposed his collarbone to your gaze. His suit jacket framed his broad shoulders deliciously and you could’ve outright moaned when he shrugged it off to roll his shirt sleeves up - that man knew all your buttons and he was damn well pushing them.

Javi cast you a knowing smirk as he picked up his menu and you watched as his large hands ran the length of the paper. His fingers tracing the edge of the menu much like he does on your skin and you feel the familiar heat flare-up in your gut. You weren't alone though, you knew you were having the same effect on him but he was just better at hiding it. You were wearing a dark red wrap dress that accentuated your hips, curves and ass, one of Javi’s favourite attributes of you, and you leant forward to show off a hint of a black lace bra.

He side-eyed you at that and you smirked, being partners with Javi long before you got together meant you could observe the man’s tells and from the flex of his jaw, you knew he was holding back. He loved red on you and he loved black lace too, you knew that. As you sat there and stared at the man in front of you, an idea crept into your head. How far would his resolve would go?

Making the man who fought drug traffickers on the streets and chased criminals across buildings while handling high-level negotiations without breaking a sweat crack would be a challenge. But you loved the idea of riling him up in such a public setting, the idea was too tempting.

You slid a hand onto his thigh, feigning ignorance as you pretended to read the menu in your hands whilst also making sure to rub slow circles just above his kneecap. His leg shifts under your ministrations and you slide it higher. He clears his throat.

Your hand stays when the waitress drops by to ask for your drinks order. As always Javi orders a whiskey and you order wine, loving the subtle hitch of Javi’s voice when you press your fingers into his inner thigh while he thanks the server. She walks away and he scowls at you, “What do you think you’re doing Hermosa?”

You shrug, fingers now trailing up his inseam and he clenches his thighs together, one hand dropping to clasp yours in a tight grip, “I said what are you doing?” You’re about to reply but then the waitress comes back with your drinks and Javi switches on his most charming smile and you can’t help but graze his crotch as he looks at the waitress, a small possessive side to you loving the widening of his eyes. You trail the spot, mapping it out under your fingers as she shamelessly flirts with him, a silent reminder of who he belongs to.

As she leaves, you lean into his ear, picking up your wineglass, your other hand remains preoccupied, “I’m having fun Javi, why? You think you can’t handle it?” You take a sip and squeeze slightly and Javi shuts his eyes, legs widening in silent acceptance.

Game on.

You drop your hand from his leg and let him settle, he exhales harshly and after a second brings the whiskey glass to his lips. You wait for him to take a sip before drifting your hand back up the outside of this thigh now and you see his jaw tick when he swallows. You lean across and place a gentle kiss on the tense spot before sliding your hand up and over, lingering on his crotch once more. Javi raises an eyebrow to you, a silent 'Is that all you've got?'

The next time you press, the waitress is back asking for your food order and while you give yours, under the table you’re playing with Javi’s slack button and you pop it open silently as he gives his. Your fingertips graze his boxers as you study his profile and while he doesn’t give anything away on his face, his clenched fist tells another story.

You finger the coarse hair just below the elastic and he manages a tense nod as the waitress asks him if he wanted fries. She seems annoyed by his lack of response and you revel in it. Javi doesn't dare look at you this time as she finally retreats, just takes a sip of his drink. You decide to do the same, the alcohol warming your body and leaving you feeling weightless in your actions. Your fingertips continue to slip just shy of his waistband before slipping over his boxers to cup him under his slacks.

Javi kicks his leg out, foot hitting the opposite table leg and he looks around, clearly seeing if anyone can see his compromising position, “Shit” he murmurs, “What if someone sees?”

You grin, “So what if they do Javi? Besides, it's pretty dark I think we’ll be okay” and with that, your hand begins a slow rhythm over his clothed cock and you hear a soft moan from the man beside you.

“Sssh Jav…”

He bites back a groan as your fingers slip against his warm skin again and delve lower, your fingers grazing his length as you sigh, “Only I get to hear those pretty sounds.” Javi nods frantically before realising the public nature of your acts and covers it by drinking again, seeming desperate in his gulps as he rolls his hips. Emboldened by his reaction, you softly wrap your hands around him and pull softly, knuckles rubbing against the inside of his zipper and you feel his hips buck again into your grip.

You take a moment to glance around and happy that no one can see what’s transpiring between the two of you, you look back at Javi’s face and you love what you see. His eyes have darkened significantly, pupils blown as you feel him harden further under the table and his bottom lip is swollen from his biting teeth. His usual golden-brown eyes are swimming in unbridled lust and as his tongue darts out to wet his lip, you can’t help but lean across and kiss him.

You keep it G rated, simply pressing your lips to his and relishing in the feel of his moustache against your lip. You slip your hand lower and start pumping him properly, swallowing his moans as you do. You lean back and look at his dishevelled face and continue, watching him white knuckle the table cloth beneath a clenched fist.

You kiss him again then against his lips you ask, “Think I can make you cum? Make you cum in front of everyone here with only the two of us knowing about the mess you’re gonna make all over yourself, baby?”

Javi pants, jaw slack and mouth open at your question. You take his silence as the opportunity to pull him totally free, exposing him to the warm air of the restaurant. Javi leans back and watches you, an intense stare you rarely see with your clothes on and you start moving in earnest. You slide towards him further, bracketing your bodies into the corner of the booth and you watch his pulse thrum under the tight skin of his neck.

You hasten the rhythm and his fingers slip against the wood where they grip the table, the other coming up to cover his mouth in a cough that sounds suspiciously like a groan as you thumb the head of his cock. Your thumb comes back slick and you use it to wet his shaft, now openly staring at Javi as he slowly falls apart under your hands…well hand.

You can tell he’s close through the frantic look in his eye, hesitant to release in such a public setting but you coax it out of him, running your lips against his neck and kissing him lightly as you say, “Come on Jav, cum for me, make a mess all under this fancy table.” and he does.

You've got to give the guy credit, he’s dead silent and you know how loud the man can be when he cums. He hunches slightly and gasps, chin tilted downwards as he watches himself release all over your fist and drip onto his pressed slacks. He squeezes his eyes shut, biting his tongue as you keep the pressure, knowing how sensitive he gets once he's cum. He opens his eyes, cheeks slightly pink in embarrassment and arousal and he sets his gaze on you.

It’s like the spell is broken and with that as he pushes your slick hand away and shoves himself back in, hips rising as he closes the zipper and button then grabs the napkin from his side, offering it to you with a raised brow, urgency clear on his face.

You notice the waitress just beginning to come over with the food and you offer Javi a wink before sticking your fingers in your mouth and sucking, popping your fingers clean with a smirk as the waitress comes over with the plates.

Javi is speechless.

You knew she must’ve seen something so you offer an apology as Javi still stares at you gobsmacked, “Sorry! Red wine gets everywhere sometimes and with these prices, I’m not wasting a drop!”

She laughs politely and set your food down as she begins to saunter away, pouting slightly when she notices Javi’s full attention is focused on you now rather than her backside.

You pick up your knife and fork and start eating, ignoring the shell shocked Javier at your side. He finally brings himself out of his stupor and grabs his plate, forcefully shovelling some pasta into his mouth before leaning across and hissing, "You've got five minutes to eat then we're leaving."

You frown, "But we just got here!"

Javi laughs darkly, "Oh we aren't leaving here cariño, just the table because after that stunt you just pulled? I'm taking you to that bathroom and fucking you, not in silence," He laughs again, "Fuck that. I'm going to make you moan for me so loudly that everyone in this god damn place will know exactly what you've been doing."

It's your turn to be stunned into silence.

"And then? We are coming right back here for dessert. I want everyone to know what a bad girl looks like after she's been thoroughly fucked."

He continues eating.

You stare at your food. Your pussy throbs at Javi's words and your head swims with the images he's presented. You hear him chide from beside you, "quedan cuatro minutos, mi amor..."

You've never eaten something so fast in your life.

------------------

I dedicate this also to @rattlethe-stars because both of us are slaves to Javier Peña and we have no shame in admitting it.

[angeli-marco-writes]

Sam Holland - Don't Tell

A/N & WC - This is not meant to glorify or condone adultery in any way. I do not know Sam, nor do I claim to, this is a work of fiction. This was written before Sam posted about a new girlfriend: no disrespect is meant towards her. I do not believe Sam would do this: it is fictitious. 3.5k.

Warnings - Adultery, explicit smut, unprotected sex, swearing, reader is the other woman, swearing, brief allusions to SA. 18+.

Summary - When Sam booty calls you, you can't deny him, but will sexual satisfaction be enough? Or will you always want from him what you know you can't have?

THIS WASN’T HOW YOU’D PLANNED to spend your Saturday afternoon, but Sam called, and who were you to deny him?

‘Come over at 3.’ He texted you. ‘She’s leaving then.’

No kisses, no emojis, no frills, no sign off, nothing. You’re just a nameless number in his phone. You knew what it meant. You’ve done it plenty of times before, so you know the drill, it’s just not exactly pleasant.

With ample time, you left your house, your new place only a couple of streets over from the Holland household, and you walked as inconspicuously as possible. Your coat wrapped tightly around you, you refused to make eye contact with anyone on the whole walk there.

You know the drill so well by now that you know not to stick to the front of the house, but instead to head around the back—straight into his bedroom window—via the bins. Theoretically, with no one home and Sam in the living room, you could walk in the front door, but his room is safest since she has always refused to enter—’just in case.’

Your heart thuds against your chest while you hold your breath, praying not to be heard downstairs the second your feet land on his floor. You press yourself flat against the wall behind Sam’s door, lips pursed and eyes squeezed shut, every muscle in your body clenched to the maximum. You’ve trained yourself to stay so quiet that the only sounds are your pounding, racing heart and the blood rushing in your ears.

Thankfully, before cramp can override you, you hear the words that give you the all clear.

“Bye, love!” he calls down the driveway, followed by a half hearted air kiss, a deafening crunching on the gravel driveway, and the front door at last clicking shut.

Your body finally relaxes, limbs falling loosely around you while you release one of the longest held breaths you’ve ever had.

You creak open Sam’s bedroom door, ready for him to meet you, and shrug your coat off, throwing it on the floor alongside your converse when you hear him coming upstairs. He gets like this, heavy steps and heaved breaths like they’re a strain on his body, and it usually means he’s extra horny.

“What took so long, lover boy?” you tease, standing scantily clad in his door frame, leaning against the painted wood.

His eyes darken with lust as he approaches you, his shadow from the landing already overpowering.

This isn’t like any sex or ‘relationship’ you’ve ever been in before. It’s risky, and that risk makes it so much hotter. Always leaving the door open just a crack so that the two of you could be found only by those closest to Sam, the chance of being caught together in the street on the off chance you go for drinks; after all, your reputation precedes you. But it’s the adulterous element of your relationship that makes it so fun. The fact that it’s usually after his girlfriend leaves that you’re called over to relieve his not-so-little ‘problem’, the little marks you trail across the hidden parts of his body, occasionally being risky enough to plant one on the juncture of his neck and shoulder just to test the waters.

After being together for over two years, she still refuses to do anything with him. Of course you respect such a thing: if she wants to wait till marriage and is able to resist Sam for that long, props to her. It’s just not always ideal for all party members. Sure, they’ve kissed, a little groping, but by this point, with how little Sam's lass has done with him, he’s immensely riled up.

He really likes his girlfriend, of course he does, and he’s spoken to her about this time and time again, asking why they couldn’t just do something more than a PG-12 touching session. She simply shook her head and smiled every time, “I’m saving myself for marriage, Sammy.” This infuriated him hugely. He’s been with a girl or two (or ten) before her, so is very expectant, but being twenty-two has its burdens. He isn’t anywhere near ready for marriage, but is increasingly sexually frustrated. So after an insane year of getting by with absolutely no action apart from the rare lap dance and make out, he knew he had to do something besides use his own hand to relieve the tension that was making him a complete prick.

He respects his girlfriend enough not to pressure her. Sam isn’t a bad person and so he isn’t going to coerce his girlfriend into sex she doesn’t want, seeing it as utterly immoral, so he did the only thing he could think of, and turned to the girl next door, quite literally. Not that it’s any more moral, but here you are.

As soon as he reaches you, the smirk etched upon his face is perfect, just what you expect, and his hands grip your waist tightly.

“You think you’re so cheeky,” he smirks, and his lips crash onto yours the next moment, his hands spanning your sides. His affection halts as he smacks the side of your ass. “I’ll show you cheeky.”

You don’t let him get another word in before you’re kissing him again, furiously this time, hooking one leg around his waist as the other flies to his neck, your clasp anything but gentle.

You’ve known of the Holland family for a while, living a street away, going to school with the boys and your mother having ‘neighbourhood meetings’ with the family. You, however, had had nothing to do with them, never getting involved in their ordeals, not really.

Keeping a resolutely ‘good girl’ demeanour all through school was difficult, especially when you wanted to rebel so earnestly. The first step was house parties, beginning when you were in year ten, everyone getting shit-faced and ending up giving sloppy hand-jobs in someone’s downstairs loo. That much you weren’t a fan of, so you waited until the end of school, A-Levels secured to be who you wanted to be. Trench coats, docs and chucks at every turn, short shorts and fishnets. Lots of hair dye came next, followed by a ‘scandalous’ collection of piercings, and a significant body count for someone your age, or so conservative old women perceived. Fuck them, your body your choice.

Times changed in a year and a half, though not that much. Mid way through your rebellion, you got a good job, your own place, and became a call girl, essentially. Sam’s call girl only, considering your regrettable soft spot for him.

You couldn’t care less though, even though it’s adulterous, Sam is incredible in bed. He frequently tells you the same.

“I think you’re rubbing off on me,” he murmurs, “even when she was kissing me I could only think of you.” His lips are inches from yours with your breath mingling in the confined space of his doorway as you pant.

He hasn’t touched you yet, or even moved you to the bed. You feel yourself blush a little, scared fractionally by what he’s saying but mostly flattered. At least that’s what you’re telling yourself. It makes you feel like your old self is creeping in again, the girl next door that no one fell for.

“I like it when you get all shy on me, really naïve, shows me you’re a human and not just a sex goddess. My sex goddess.”

You pull his lips to yours with a burning passion, desperate to feel him up against you. Your palms settle this time on Sam's cheeks, angling his face to get the most out of the kiss, and your hold remains resolute so that he can’t pull away easily. This isn’t your dominance though, simply a ploy to hide your flushed cheeks from his prying eyes, the blush that’s been caused by his kind words. You want to keep him here long enough that you can claim the blush is from the breathlessness and the actions of his tongue slipping inside your mouth with an urgency you haven’t felt with him for a while. Is this the day that changes everything?

He backs you to the bed, walking unsteadily, and pushes you down onto the springy mattress. It pitches beneath you as he joins you, sitting by your side, his hand gravitating towards your thigh.

“Hey, what is it?” you ask, a slight hesitant stammer to your words.

“Nothing,” he sulks. “Just dunno how long I can keep doing this.”

His baleful eyes hover over your decolletage, and before you can protest and try to get him to open up about the whole situation, discussing the fact that maybe you should just quit while you’re ahead and come clean (because to be fair, it’s beginning to weight on your conscience too, even though you’ve never met said girlfriend), he kisses you, pinching your nipple through your bra until it forms a pebbled bud.

“Gonna take it all out on you,” he hisses, moving his kisses to your jaw. “All this pent up need from missing your body. God, feel so good beneath me.”

He swings a leg over to straddle your legs, and begins a ferocious attack on your neck with his teeth. You’ll have fun at work tomorrow, trying to hide them from your co-workers, one of them (on a temp basis, at least) being Sam’s twin. Harry cottoned on pretty easy, and won’t say a word, because he doesn’t want to deal with Sam’s temper when he’s been denied sex for too long. He likes Sam’s girlfriend, sure, but she doesn’t compromise on anything and looks down her nose at the lot of them, so he considers it fair play. And besides, with his track record, he really doesn’t have a leg to stand on.

Unwittingly, your hips buck up to meet his, feeling his throbbing need pressing against your pelvis, only for him to draw his body away from you, a bruising kiss being pressed to your lips the next moment. All in a flurry, your top is pulled down, your chest revealed to him.

“Bloody love your tits,” he purrs, a feral grin contorting his freckled face.

He rolls your pert bud between the rough pads of his fingers, palming at the other breast so as not to neglect it, only swapping when you’re beginning to writhe under him. His grin only increases.

“Sam… please.”

He knows what you want when you whine that way, so he sits up on his shins, and lets you tear his shirt open. Button by button, you watch as every inch of his pale chest is bared to you, his happy trail coaxing you lower.

“Get on with it, then,” he warns, clamping a hand around your hair in order to control your movements. He does this a lot, it’s his main power move. “They’re too damn tight now you’re around.”

You can definitely see that, the denim of his jeans pulled taut around his torso, the waistband of his boxers peeking above. He begins to pluck at your nipples again while you fumble with his buckle and zip, eventually tugging both items of clothing down at once. He stands, his lanky frame just a blur of white and freckles as he removes every last item, prowling back to you on the bed.

You, however, have other ideas, tugging him down with a grip on his shoulders until he’s helpless beneath you. In the time he was distracted with shucking his jeans off at last, you peeled your own shirt off and put your bra right. Sam’s a boob man, always has been, and takes great pleasure in fastening and unfastening your bras as much as he can, nestling into your chest for the time you spend together.

Since your last rodeo, you’ve gained some weight, and filled out a tad more, something Sam seems to notice right about now, especially as your chest hovers just inches from his face.

“Well? Are you gonna stare at them all day or take it off?”

This man… this man has the fucking audacity to lick his lips as one hand works on the hooks at the back of your bra, the other skimming the edges of the cups before it falls into his hands and he flings it across the room, knocking something off his dresser.

As soon as it's out of his way, he seems to forget everything apart from you, his eyes mesmerised by your chest, his mouth gaping a little, his eyes lingering on your hardened nipples for perhaps just a moment too long. You sigh to yourself, letting your knees dig into his navy comforter before your fingers wrap around his hand and place it onto your right breast. You know that, if you let him stare long enough, you’ll get nothing done. You need this release as much as he does. He takes the message, though, and begins kneading the flesh with a need you haven’t seen from him before. You even catch a wolfish grin when your face contorts into a silent ‘o’, overcome with pleasure. He tweaks your one nipple, and leans up to capture the other in his kiss-swollen lips, lavishing kisses around the sensitive area. You can’t help your nails leaving faint scratch marks in their wake over his freckled shoulders, tracing the silhouettes beneath his skin of muscle and bone, finding constellations within the freckles until he’s quaking beneath your delicate touch…

“Why’re you being such a tease?” he whines.

He has a point, you’re grinding down on his clothed cock in tandem with his playing with your boobs, your core hovering over his hard member, but it’s only fair with the stimulation he’s offering you. Just to shut him up, in one swift move you pull his boxers down and reach down to grasp him, stroking a couple of times before inching down, swallowing his aching length into your welcoming, warm walls.

Your moans create a heavenly sympathy, even as you stop for a moment to adjust to his size a little more, placing your hands on his pecs before grinding down on him. His hips begin to move, thrusting upwards and into you, finding a satisfying pace in tandem for you both as you ride him like there’s no tomorrow.

“Baby…” he moans, reaching out with his lips puckered to wrap them around your exposed nipple, suckling viciously, hard enough to hurt just a little.

“Stand up,” you command authoritatively, with a softness to your tone despite.

He grows harder inside of you, barely suppressing a groan, but his plan fails from shock when you bend over, clenching the foot of his bed so tightly your knuckles begin to turn white.

Casting a sensual glance over your shoulder, you bat your lashes and coax him the only way you know how, a wiggle of your bum added to help convince him; “Fuck me, Sammy…”

Your gasp is shrill and loud when he enters your craving core from behind, your knees nearly buckling when a stream of expletives falls from his lips once he grabs your hips, settling there. You’re sure to have hand-shaped imprints there tomorrow, but you don’t care, and apparently neither does Sam as he continues to thrust into you at an inhuman pace.

Breathy moans escape your lips as your nails find purchase in the sheets, now crumpled in your clenched fists. The only thing that fills your ears other than skin slapping against skin is the myriad of colourful words spilling from Sam in a groan, right down your ear.

“y/n… please…” he hums nonsensically, his lips finding their way to your shoulder blade and neck, kissing you, suckling.

He’s such a hypocrite: one rule for him, one rule for you, just because he’s got a girlfriend and is too pussy to break up with her even though his needs aren’t being met. For a brief moment, your body being used for his pleasure—and bringing you simultaneous heavenly satisfaction—you’re able to forget the consequences of your fornications.

They slip your mind once again the second one of his rough hands slowly makes its way down your front, finding your clit as he begins to rub harsh circles on it.

“Fuck…” you cry out, only for the heel of that hand to press into your pelvis, the other snaking around to your neck, applying the faintest pressure. Your walls tighten around him at the double stimulation.

His hips begin to move faster, blissful moans filling the room in symphony as you both near your highs, his tip grazing your special spot on every single thrust.

“C’mon,” he purrs in your ear, “can feel how close you are…” the pressure on your engorged pearl becomes a constant, and your body begins to spasm with unbridled pleasure. “Come.”

You do, and fireworks spark behind your eyes, setting off a train reaction in your brain, your walls clenching and your body collapsing, chest first, onto the edge of the bed. You must’ve cried out at some point, but your scream became but a gasp with his hand snug around your throat.

His thrusts slow, and he aids you onto the bed by your waist, but you roll away from him, aware that he hasn’t climaxed yet. He follows you down as your fingers link around his neck, but he’s not satisfied with that—as the smirk playing on his lips, causing dimples in his freckles, tells you—so he hovers above you on his knees. The hairs on his shins grate against the duvet cover so he shifts, but your hands move from his neck to his cheeks, pulling him closer to tangle your tongues together. His erection teases your wet folds while you’re lost in the movements of your mouths, and before you know it, he’s entering you again, and your hands are getting lost in his dark, silky locks, his one hand roughly kneading your breast. His thrusts recommence at a slower pace than before, his heels digging into the mattress as his groans overpower yours in the otherwise silent room.

“Shit… oh my God—” he hisses.

He begins to move faster, so you tug at his hair, revelling in the praises he offers, eliciting various heavy moans from his preoccupied mouth in between kisses. His warm breath and the resverberation of the moan vibrate across your lips, causing your hips to rock further into his, your legs wrapping around his toned torso to give him better access to your eager core. His movements become deeper as your breathing becomes even more escalated with high pitched moans tearing from your throat each time he hits your g-spot so perfectly. The knock-on effect sends him into an even more euphoric state, and before you know it, he’s groaning your name down your ear, and painting your walls white.

“Yes, Sammy…”

Your nails leave scratch marks all over his back from the sheer height of pleasure you’re experiencing, and that seems to be what sent him over the edge, his cum seeping into you as you milk his cock. He throbs inside you, his pelvis hitting you perfectly as he thrusts lazily while emptying himself. With one final press of his long, skilled thumb and digits over your sensitive nipple and a harsh bite to your pulse point just below your ear, the bundle of lust in your stomach becomes undone as you finish once again.

Before you’re fully recovered, he’s pulling out and leaving you empty as you lie together for a moment on opposite sides of the bed, no contact other than your pinky fingers linked and overlapping in between you. Except… despite the pleasure, you’re not satisfied. Not at all. And you know, in your heart, that this can’t happen again.

“Don’t tell anyone, please.”

“As fucking if,” you mumble.

“You ok?” he asks after a moment.

“Yes, just fine,” you snap, and roll off the bed, beginning to ferret around for your clothes.

“y/n, no…” Sam moves to grapple for you, “why are you leaving?”

“Because I’m done being treated like shit by you. Used as your fuck-toy when you’re too much of a pussy to deal with your girlfriend… I’m done, Sam.”

He’s up and off the bed, shucking his jeans on with great force that causes him to trip back onto the bed as you adjust your top and zip your skirt back up.

“y/n!”

“What!” you bellow right back at him.

He shuffles his feet on the carpet, and moves to speak, but his jaw just hangs open like a fish, nothing coming out.

“Yeah, I’m done here, Sam. Don’t booty-call me again.”

A weary voice from behind you calls out, “Sam?”

Shit.

This is bad. This is very bad. But what can you do? You’re the other woman, he’s the one choosing to commit adultery: why is that your problem? He can deal with his (clearly very angry) girlfriend, so livid she’s shaking, once you’re gone.

“Yeah. Your ‘don’t tell’ plan worked real good, Sammy. Karma’s a bitch,” you spit, spinning on my heels and waltzing out the door.

You mean it: you’re done. At least until he breaks up with her and undoubtedly calls back. You want him, there's no question about that, but you want him all to yourself: and that's a secret you won't tell.

[razorblade180]

Interdimensional Moms pt3

Part 2 right here! <-

Team RWBY continue their interesting chat about their respective worlds. After the emotional roller coaster that was Weiss’s, a bit of light hearted stories would be welcomed.

Yang:Okay, does anyone have some real feel good things to talk about for their world? Just run of the mill pleasant life?

Ruby:Guess I’m going last....

Yang:Oh no!

Weiss:We’ll circle back to you then. Blake, I guess you’re up.

Blake:Wouldn’t you want calmer stuff at the end?

Yang:Blake, I would very much like to go at least ten minutes without wanting to cry.

Blake:Hmmmm I can guarantee you like...six I think.

Yang:I’ll take it! Blake Belladonna, tell me about a world where you and Jaune Arc are happily married. How did such stars align?

Blake:You make it sound crazy?

Weiss:Blake, there’s list of people I could see you with. Now I’m not saying Jaune couldn’t be one of them, but he’d have to fight his way up that list.

Blake:You...that’s kinda fair. It’s a bit hard to explain really. It happened back at Beacon initially, or our bonding did. Some days his team was busy and I didn’t tag along for the crazy antics you three wanted to do all the time, so we occasionally bumped into each by circumstances. He’d go to the library for a book, I’d do training and he was there, or sometimes he’d knock on our door and not realize I was the only one around.

Weiss:Was he trying to sing to me?

Blake:That plan did show up at our a few times, yes. One of those times I asked him out of nowhere to sing the song anyways because I just had to know if it was any good. Hehe, it wasn’t sonically pleasing at times, but you could tell it was genuine. Eventually though...he just sort of gave up on you. It was actually a little sad to see, even you thought so. It was strange. Jaune was definitely stumbling through his flirting and it came off as childish, yet the day he gave up, it was easy to see his heart was breaking a bit. Like all his insecurities ate even the faux confidence away.

Yang:Ma’am, it has barely been three minutes and I’m getting sad about thinking of Jaune being sad.

Weiss:Yeah don’t tell me I broke his heart!

Blake:Whoops, sorry. It’s important though. Jaune kinda kept to himself a little more after that. He still chatted pretty regularly but it was easy to tell he dived more in studies as a way to keep his head clear, which lead to us being on a project together. I was the only person in our friend group that wouldn’t actively try to make him open up about how he feeling. At first I thought it was a bit rude when he told me that, but I didn’t room to talk when it comes to socializing.

Yang:One more time for the people in the back.

Ruby:I’m the back.

Blake:*smirks* I was very against socializing about my feelings at Beacon.

Ruby:Yeah you were.

Weiss:I couldn’t even ask if you slept well without a lukewarm answer sometimes.

Blake:I’m better now. That’s all that matters. Romance and feeling love is a personal thing and talking about it is uncomfortable. I think we both recognized that in each other during our project. Trouble is, there’s only so many conversation starters and small talk subjects. Talking only about the project was dry and eventually all the facts a person could say about themselves ran out. Favorite food, color, hobbies, etc. We eventually had to dig a little deeper into those topics. To our surprise, we actually more in common than we thought when it came to how we felt about certain pieces of literature and music.

Ruby:Awwww, bonding over smut.

Blake:*red* It wasn’t all adult literature! Some were poems and stuff. Even when the project ended, we began being less formal around each other and hanging out. We went to the bookstores we mentioned and he even got us tickets to bands I liked. It...it was nice. I never really got to have just a normal teenage experience before without it being political. He always felt bad about being average compared to everyone but average was so foreign to me that I welcomed it. I liked having a normal time out. It was a thing we all took for granted. Especially when Beacon fell.

Yang:Yeah, that probably put a real bind on your relationship.

Blake:Actually....we technically never officially started to date.

Ruby:What? You courted each other all of Beacon.

Weiss:Ruby, who the heck says courted? I’m a Schnee and even I have never used the word courted.

Ruby:Hush, I read a lot of bed time stories to a five year old.

Blake:We were a bit shaky on labels. Me for obvious reasons. As for Jaune, it’s really true about what they say about guys when they get heart broken.

Yang: “Never again.”

Blake:Hehehe, it’s funny to look back at it but he’ll tell you it’s a bit cringy. He was so on gaurd. I could tell all the time when he was mentally telling himself to not be excited whenever we hung out or I complimented him.

Ruby:Hey it takes guts to shift feelings to a teammate of your first crush. That could blow up in your face.

Blake:Yeah...about that. *looks at Yang* you...were another reason why nothing was official. You uhhh, we actually had some jumbled up emotions.

Weiss:*sarcastic gasp* You and Yang, liking each other? Who could’ve seen that coming?

Yang:Was it mutual or...

Blake:Very mutual. Also...intimate at times.

Yang:*red* Oh....yeah. Yeah that tracks.

Blake:That jumbled mess was only more confusing after you got hurt trying to rescue me from Adam. Meeting up with-

Ruby:Question, so was Sun just not on your radar?

Blake:Sun? We’re just friends. He’s cute and I’m glad he was there for me when I needed help but things between us were always pretty calm. I think he noticed how confused I was with other people in my life and chose to not add to it.

Ruby:Bless him. Please continue.

Blake:Learning about Salem and reconnecting with you all was a lot. I’d really been out of the loop and my Yang and I were on....shaky ground.

Yang:That’s what happens when you leave someone who’s been left their entire life.

Blake:Sigh...yeah. It was a trying time, but not with JNPR. It’s funny, Oscar and I also hit it off quite well from the jump. I think we were both glad to have each other learn on the craziness at once. Even with readjusting, Jaune and I fell back into a groove naturally. Instead of doing average things we day dreamed of the things we did. Once again we become this little slice of simple life in this crazy adventure. Still didn’t date.

Weiss:What is this, a slow burn!?

Yang:Weiss, you literally didn’t date your Jaune until Atlas.

Weiss:There’s a difference. I didn’t make any heart eyes at him until around Atlas. I say I may have been a little quick. These two were “courting” for over a year at this point.

Ruby:Stop making fun of me!

Blake:Well anyways, I wouldn’t say much was too eventful in terms of romance with world destroying things happening. Salem, she was way too much to deal with. Every move age did was calculated and unrelenting. Keeping our head above water wasn’t easy. In fact, it was boarder line impossible. Yang and I barely beat Adam after all.

Yang:How’d you two feel about that?

Blake:Relieved. Huge weight off my mind, and yet...a piece of me still wishes things never got so dire. At least now I know that in another world, things aren’t.

Ruby:Sounds like your world was put through their paces? You survived though.

Blake:Not conventionally. I gotta say, hearing the ages and how you beat Salem so far makes me feel more than a little embarrassed. To be frank, we didn’t have this grand battle that involved the entire world making a final stand. We had Atlas, and then we had Haven. With their might and a plan to gain more time, we managed to seal Salem in a vault.

Yang:*chokes on water* Y- cough what!?

Ruby:You put her in a vault!?

Weiss:Thah sounds harder than a last stand honestly.

Blake:No matter what way we looked at things, we just weren’t ready for her, so we locked her away until we were. Two years on constant defense from her followers and grimm until Ruby had trained enough to use her silver eyes and we were all strong enough.

Ruby:Two years!? How old was I then?

Blake:Twenty I believe.

Weiss:Hey, you beat mine by a year.

Yang:Not mine, I think we either tied or just narrowly beat yours by like a year. Honestly it hard to keep track of birthdays and stuff.

Ruby:Wow. No offense to myself, but that’s a little disappointing. I guess being the same person really doesn’t mean we were all at the same level.

Blake:Hey, my Ruby put everything she had into saving the world. There wasn’t a second she wasn’t trying her best to defend it!

Ruby:My point exactly. If that was her at her absolute best then by all accounts, she doesn’t hold a candle to me; at least back then anyways. But I have no reason to believe she would be at my level now.

Yang:Okay little miss prideful, care to tell us when you saved the-

Ruby:Seventeen.

The reaper took a long swig of coffee while the others processed that information. It took a her a couple of seconds to realize she may be acting just a tad bit arrogant.

Ruby:Uhh, sorry. I think I was tooting my own horn a bit there.

Weiss:Seventeen....why so soon?

Yang:Why? Don’t you mean how?

Blake:That’s....almost unbelievable.

Ruby:Really? I don’t think so. I’ll dive into it when it’s my turn but for now all I really gotta say is people needed help, and I was going to answer those cries. I bet your Ruby had a similar urgency in her, but for some reason or another just had different limitations. I got hurt a lot as a kid. Maybe an injury did more damage in one universe than another? Who can say?

Blake:I...wouldn’t know. Odd, I know if my Ruby heard this, then she’d probably be more than a little upset. Saving lives is still what she’s all about. I know when she put everything she had into fighting Salem when the day came. All that training paid off. Her skills were polished and her silver eyes eradicated the grimm essence in Salem.

Ruby:Wait, she’s not dead?

Blake:No. Salem roams Remnant with Oz keeping an eye on her until one day she can finally grasp the lesson the gods wanted her to have.

Yang:That uhhh sounds risky.

Weiss:Yet oddly okay?

Blake:Funny, my Weiss said that too. Those two get checked on in secret. Can’t be too careful. With Salem beaten though, Remnant entered a state of...let’s call it average chaos. All in all, it’s way more peaceful but you know, people will be people. Downside about a secret war is you don’t get the unity of the masses. Atlas and Haven working together was still a great step in the right direction though.

Yang:Woah, I’m a little jealous. My world felt like a race against the clock. The pressure either broke you or made you harder than diamond, with most people crushing under it.

Weiss:Yeah. The tension and meet of extremes I had on the frontlines was beyond imagination. The unity was great, but to feel it on the battlefield against the odds was feeling with way too much adrenaline and stress. Can’t say I enjoyed it. I simply lived through it.

Blake:Well it isn’t like I had a walk in the park. But I guess in comparison, my experience was a tad more mellow. Still, people were lost and hurt. Oscar isn’t himself anymore, don’t have Penny, former classmates and a few enemies turned allies fell in battle. Family.... it took a bunch to get the plan of containing, then it took a lot more to do it. In a way though, the two years of training is time I can’t regret. It tested bonds, strengthening and reestablishing others.

Ruby:I take it since love couldn’t bloom on the battlefield, it bloomed in the training yards?

Blake:*red* You can say that. That’s when Jaune and I got serious. *frowning* But.....

Yang:We fell apart?

Blake:Yeah. I didn’t learn my lesson well enough the first time about the potential problems of dating a partner. Only difference this time was I felt like I was the one being cruel. We had gotten into arguments and apologized more than once. Your fear of being left and my own insecurities just kept butting heads. I’d cry, you’d cry, our friends would be concerned. Then the day came where you put it all on the line. You confessed genuinely how much you loved me and how you felt a bit jealous when it came to Jaune. I had never seen you look so vulnerable; letting your gaurd completely down. And though a piece of me loved you and wanted you in my life for ever....this sense of genuine comfort Jaune gave was something I want-needed for so long. So I did the one thing I didn’t want to do. I broke your heart. I hurt you again.

Yang:Sigh....*leans back in chair* Okay, let’s see how well I know myself. My eyes went red automatically, followed by tears. I lashed out at you angrily out of pain and embarrassment until I was probably blue in the face. But to take make things worse, somebody probably overheard. No matter who it was, I yelled at them too for trying to calm me down and then I eventually run off leaving everyone unhappy. A good old meltdown. Sound about right?

Blake:To the letter. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so distraught.

Yang:Of course not, I’ve never been in love before meeting you. I....did a similar thing with my Blake over the stupid Adam shit. *covers face* of all the things to be similar, it had to be my temper. Please tell me our team didn’t suffer too harshly?

Blake:The good thing about two years of training was it didn’t have to be together all the time. Team RWBY didn’t fall apart, but it didn’t feel comfortable either. Outside of missions, the four of us didn’t hang out as much. It was three at the most. Nobody pinned blame on me or Yang for it but it was obvious.

Ruby:I mean how can you blame someone for feeling sad or not in love with someone? Pointing fingers doesn’t do anything. However, I bet missions were rough.

Blake:Bumblebee was shelved. We did any other team up we could. When push came to shove, Yang and I did put feelings aside. Neither of us wanted our feelings to get anyone killed. That’s probably what kept us connected for awhile, especially with Salem. I don’t think we questioned each other when it came to watching one another’s back. Slowly, our relationship got a bit better. Until....we stopped speaking to each other altogether about a couple years later.

Yang:Wait, why!?

Blake:I got pregnant.

The three listeners’ faces scrunched up and they let in a sharp breath like they just got cut. No one had considered that bombshell.

Blake:Marriage was rough enough. Having Jaune’s kid and starting a family just...cut deep I guess. You didn’t make a scene or anything if that’s what you’re worried about. One day you told me “I just can’t do this” and exited my life. I wanted to keep you close to me, but you wanted to be closer. That was a thing I couldn’t do. Hehe, I can’t tell you how weird it is talking to you like this again.

Yang:So that’s it!? We just don’t see each other at all!?

Blake:Certain events and celebrations have us in the same room, but that’s all. Ruby is the only thing that regularly links us, but she’s busy living life too.

Ruby:Is it a good life?

Blake:The best. You’re the huntress you always wanted to be and a hero to many.

Ruby:*smiles* Really? That’s good. May she ride that high for as long as she can. Though I bet she wished she had a special someone to share that with.

Blake:Huh? Oh, you married Weiss.

Weiss:*red* What!?

Ruby:Aye, nice.

Weiss:Weren’t you upset about thinking of other people with Jaune besides you!?

Ruby:Yeah, but I won’t deny if I am going to be with someone that isn’t him, I’m very happy it’s the other special person in my life. I mean come on, the only reason we don’t get weird in your universe is because I married your brother and you already invited my sister.

Weiss:I mean...it’s mainly the brother portion. The second part...

Ruby:Weiss, that’s weird.

Yang:Eh...

Ruby:IT’S WEIRD! YOU CANNOT TELL ME OTHERWISE!

Yang:*sips coffee* Eh.

Blake:Anyways, Weiss, you’re running your company. The Schnee Dust Company was scrubbed top to bottom to remove as much corruption as possible. No department was overlooked. In times of money, there’s a notable decrease in how much the company used to make.

Weiss:Gee, I wonder if that’s because the other me is doing oh let me guess, paying all their workers and not cutting corners in safety?

Blake:The SDC people approval has gone up considerably, just so you know that too. Turns out people like it when the company they buy from have good morals.

Weiss:Am I happy though? I make time for my social life and hu- I mean wife?

Blake:Yea, you’re happy. In a way I think we’re all happy, but....

Yang:We’d be happier if we were all happy together? Yeah, that’s how it works. You’re only as happy as the most miserable person in a family or group; if you all care about each other that is. Ugh, I wanna punch the other me. I get how she feels but it’s fucking immature to just ignore years of teamwork and family. At the end of the day, team RWBY is a family! Can’t believe I’d runaway from it instead of figuring out...I don’t know! Something!

Blake:*small smile* Well if you feel that way then there’s no reason to believe she doesn’t. My Yang just struggles with it more I guess, but I hope she can come around one day. Not really for my sake, but for her own peace of mind. As well as Lucas’s.

Ruby:Lucas? Your son I take it?

Blake:Mmhmm. My strong and lazy young man. He got his father’s hair but my eyes and ears. I can’t think of a person who warms my heart quite like him. He acts uninterested in a lot of things, but his heart is so big.

Weiss:Ah, so he’s just you?

Blake:More or less hehe. Though I’d say I was passionate about things all my life. Lucas will sleep all day if he could and doesn’t like going out without a reason.

Weiss:Still sounds like you if I’m being honest. Teenager?

Blake:Seventeen, almost eighteen.

Yang:You said he’s need peace of mind too? I’m not...hostile towards him am I?

Blake:No, not by a long shot. On the occasions you two have meant, you were polite. It’s just he knows why you don’t visit or talk to me. That’s rough, knowing your parent’s closest friend stopped being apart of their life because you were born. I think sometimes he believes it’s actually his fault.

Yang:I really, really want to meet this other me and have a few words. She needs to know she isn’t trying hard enough. I’m proof.

Ruby:Yeah, but you’re only well off because the person that helped you get over Blake, was Jaune. Yeah she still can find love, but who that person will be would be uncharted territory for everyone.

Blake:Also I’m not entirely sure exactly if my Yang is even bi like you.

Yang:Sigh....

Weiss:Love.

Blake:Huh?

Weiss:As long as a person shows your Yang genuine love and a place in their heart where she’ll remain forever, Yang would fall for them. They just have to make it a point to make her feel like they’ll stay. Yangs are softies like that.

Yang:Wow, you an expert on me and all the versions of me now?

Weiss:No, you’re just a bleeding heart that’s super emotional. Let me guess, you fell for Jaune the moment you realized just how relaxed and vulnerable you could allow yourself to be around him.

Yang:*red*.......he holds me when I’m overwhelmed.

RWB:Awwww

Yang:Shut up! Blake, take the heat off me.

Blake:Not too much more. Lucas is a smart kid who generally stays out of trouble. Unfortunately, trouble finds him. Mainly because of his semblance.

Ruby:Don’t tell me...

Blake:No no, it’s not bad luck like your uncle, but Lucas can’t always control it so their similar in that regard. Premonitions, that’s his semblance.

Weiss:Like...the future? You child can see the future?!

Blake:Yeah. *sips drink* it’s terrible.

Ruby:What? That sounds so handy! Man, if I could someone fighting me before it happened, I’d be a monster on the battlefield.

Blake:Lucas isn’t a fighter. Well, he’s not aspiring to fight. He can fight, pretty dang well in fact.; but randomly seeing the future is not a gift. Imagine picking up a book and you suddenly know the ending, or watching a movie and you start seeing the middle of it right after you press play?

Yang:Ahhh, that’s why he’s lazy and unmotivated. His semblance is massive spoiler alert. Half the fun of new things is not knowing what will happen.

Ruby:Oof, you have a point. I’d be paranoid to no end.

Blake:To a point, he was. Ever since he was ten. Disasters happen at the drop of a hat. Lucas isn’t the kind of person to watch bad things unfold, so whenever it was possible or even if it was risky, he’d do whatever he could to prevent said disaster. But.....there’s only so much anyone person can do. There’s only so much information he sees. The constant strain and guilt that came from failing ate him up. The. There’s the incidents he’s seen that didn’t show him how it began or how it will end. *rubbing her hands* It’s bad...

Weiss:Hey, I...I’ve noticed your hands and frankly even your face are a bit....slim. Your skin isn’t as colorful as I’m used to either. Almost like it’s regaining color.

Blake:Hehehe.......I guess you were bound to notice of all people.

Weiss:Of course. I may not run a a company in my world but I keep tabs on my brother and have had my fair share of visits to a doctor. Why wouldn’t I notice.

Yang:So can we talk as if there are people who have no clue what’s going on?

Weiss:Blake has had one of two things happen to her. She’s either worked way too hard to the point she’s not taking care of her health, or she’s fallen very ill and her body is still recovering.

Blake:Yeah, it’s more of the second one, but probably because of the first one as well. Forwarding equality, I was overzealous with it. One day Lucas just started shaking and crying when he was twelve and I couldn’t understand why. Turns out he kept seeing me bedridden and unconscious without a reason. Day in and day out he simply cried and tried his best to get another premonition to learn more, but couldn’t. A week later I started feeling a little dizzy, and then blacked out after vomiting. At first I thought maybe I had the flu or something. Nope, a tumor.

Weiss:What?

Ruby:Blake!?

Yang:Oh shit, are you-

Blake:Perfectly fine! *smiles* I’m fine. Liver cancer, but it was caught early. No more tumor what so ever, but the meds and the entire process was really draining. Got sicker a couple of times. Not once did I feel like I was dying necessarily, more like...slipping? I felt myself getting drained. The whole time Lucas was so scared; blaming himself for not preventing this or knowing how to fix it. Though simply knowing he saw me like was a warning most people wish they got. I know I said seeing the future is terrible, but the scariest part through all of this was not knowing how it ended. Choosing medicine, doctors, surgery possibilities, it made me crack under pressure a little. I think he noticed that. I wasn’t sure if I picking an option that lead me dying or getting better. The stress alone may have killed me. Ever since then Lucas hasn’t been so outgoing.

Ruby:....

Weiss:....

Yang....It was already said, but there was no way this wasn’t going to get sad was there?

Blake:Take it from me, there’s joy in pain. So many people came to visit me when I was recovering. Even Yang dropped by for a bit. After I got out, I don’t think Lucas ever hugged me so hard. Jaune tried to stay calm through the whole ordeal but it was rough for him too. He was all but spent emotionally when I came home.

Weiss:I’m surprised Lucas didn’t become an older brother.

Blake:The last thing a recovering patient needs is a pregnancy, but as far as missing me goes...

Ruby:You can stop right there with that tangent.

Yang:We’ll talk about that in private. I wouldn’t mind that story.

Blake:*playfully rolls eyes* These days I try not to over do things. I’ve only officially been deemed completely cured for about a year. I can feel that I’m still not entirely up to strength. It’s fine though. It gives me an excuse for Lucas to dote on me a little. He’s a mama’s boy at heart. My biggest worries these days is peeling him out of this shell his semblance had put him in. At the very least I want him to smile like he used to and find away to live in moment when possible. His entire life is ahead of him. Hopefully he doesn’t see all of it.

Ruby:I guess too much of anything really is bad. Knowledge included. I hope things work out.

Yang:Me too. A happy life is something you definitely earned.

Blake:Thanks. That seriously means a lot, which is why I made sure to not end this on a sour note.

The happy faunus pulled out her scroll to scroll through pictures and her friends eyes lit up. The first one was a beach photo. This Jaune was different from what they were used to. He let his hair grow a little bit longer and the back went down his neck, but it was definitely still him. This jaune was pretty toned and went for a lean look than bulky like Weiss’s, but a tad slimmer. On his shoulders was an adorable toddler with wide amber eyes and big blonde cat ears. Both men were enjoying the sunset on the waves.

The next photo was more recent with Blake right in the middle of hopping into Lucas’s arms. Weiss noticed the girl still had on the hospital bracelet. She must’ve just gotten cleared. Lucas had grown like a weed. He was now roughly Jaune’s height. His hair was messy and looked like Jaune’s in his younger years. Also like his father, Lucas was jacked! His sleeveless purple shirt should off his biceps as they wrapped around Blake’s torso for a hug. His baggy purple shorts had black and gold trim through the seams and the shorts stopped right below his knees; but showed of his well defined calves. A smile of pure joy and what could’ve been a few tears were visible as he looked lovingly at his mother. It warmed all of the ladies hearts. Still, the girls also could tell under his eyes were a little dark. Lucas must’ve been very tired.

The final picture had to be the most recent. It was Blake and Lucas sparring. Both looked at each other with excitement and ease as their wooden blades clashed. Their clothes mirrored one another by being black and white kimonos. They even wore the traditional shoes and everything.

Weiss:Yeah, that’s your kid.

Blake:Damn right. Unfortunately that makes him a little too stubborn. But I guess that’s okay. Without a doubt, someone’s gonna break through that shell of his.

Yang:Oh? It sounds like you already know who?

Blake:Well....I have a hunch.

xxxxx

RING! RING! RING! Lucas’s scroll chirped, in the middle of the night. The boy let out a long, agitated groan of sleepiness as he rolled over in bed; reaching for his scroll on the nightstand to answer.

Lucas:Hello?

???:Did you know you are mathematically more likely to choke on a hotdog than get attacked by a shark?

Lucas:....Serenity, who gave you my number?

Serenity:Your parents, and it’s Serendipity!

Lucas:Too many syllables. Also a bit ironic given who you are. With the way you act though, my name for you is better.

Serenity:Ooooo so we’re moving on to pet names? How forward of you.

Lucas:Five seconds before I hang up. Three...two-

Serenity:You’re late! You promised to guide me around the beach at twelve. That’s now.

Lucas:.....P.M. Twelve P.M. Serenity. Why in the world would I mean midnight!?

Serenity:It’s romantic and personal. Nobody else is around. I thought you were trying to use that Belladonna magic on me by acting all cool and aloof in the moonlight.

Lucas:.....

Lucas:Please delete my number.

Serenity:Not on your life, my whiskered bodyguard!

Lucas:Don’t have whiskers-

Serenity:If you don’t wanna move that butt of yours to hang out with a pretty girl in a floppy hat and sundress with a bikini underneath, that’s your loss. I’m still going for a dip.

Lucas:Do not go in the water when nobody is around.

Serenity:Pfft, I’m a strong swimmer.

Lucas:Sharks.

Serenity:It’s more dangerous to eat a hotdog.

Lucas:Sharks feed at night.

Serenity:Are you trying to tell me the statistics aren’t as reliable just because it’s nighttime.

Lucas:That’s exactly what I’m saying.

Serenity:Then you better move your butt just in case. Either you get a snack or the sharks do. Either way, I get attention.

Lucas:Difference is one wants to eat you.

Serenity:My goodness Lucas, oh brazen of you.

Lucas:......

Lucas:Tell the sharks I said hi.

Serenity:Okay! Byyyyyyeeeee! *hangs up*

Lucas:(She’ll be fine.)

..........

Lucas:*putting on shoes* This is bullshit. Who thinks midnight!? *walking down stairs* Can’t have a peaceful day or night....

Jaune:*watching tv* Hey Lucas, going some-

Lucas:I’m giving out your phone number to a homeless man the first chance I get! *walks out door*

Jaune:.....(Whatever gets you outside more.)

It took about fifteen minutes of aggressive walking for Lucas to wrap around to the back of his house towards their section of the beach. Where Serenity walked around humming and collecting seashells without a care in the world.

Lucas:The next shell you grab will have a crab in it.

Serenity:Huh? Oh hey you’re finally-ahhhh! Ow ow ow ow ow ow!

Lucas:Should’ve listened.

Serenity:Have a better warning!!!! It won’t let go!

Lucas:Pull it off.

Serenity:That’s hurt!!! Lucas, help!

Lucas:Fine, if you delete my number.

Serenity:*sniffling* Stop being mean!!! This really hurts, it’s breaking the skin. Isn’t a young and pretty girl’s tears payment enough!? I thought you were getting paid to-

Lucas:Oh my goodness! Okay, just shush. I’m too sleepy for this.

Serenity:You’re mean when you’re sleepy. At least your waking up voice sounds handsome though.

Lucas:Please....stop. Stop everything. *removing crab* Happy?

Serenity:No, you’re not happy. Also my finger is bleeding.

Lucas:Yep, looks like you can’t go swimming now for real.

Serenity:Eh, I lied anyways. I’m not getting in that water. There are sharks in that watery grave.

Lucas:So. Why. Did. You. Wake. Me. Up?

Serenity:....*red* I...don’t really, have friends here. Besides you. Umm *points to pail and shovels* sandcastles?

Lucas:*inhales*......I’ll get the water.

Serenity:*smiles* Yes! I’ll delete your number later.

Lucas:*red* You....can keep it of you really want.

Serenity:....Kek, okay Mr. Tsundere

Lucas:You can remove the next crab alone.

Serenity:Don’t joke like that! That was a joke, right?

Lucas:Welp that pail isn’t gonna fill itself. *leaves*

Serenity:What!? Lucas!!! You were joking right!? Right!? *looking around the sand* you’re a lousy bodyguard!

Lucas:Good, fire me.

Serenity:I...you....ugh!

Lucas:Cheer up, I’m happy now after all. *smiles*

Serenity:*pouting* This is why I’m a dog person.

[lxvestxned]

y/n is massively afraid of toads, but tries to at least touch trevor for the first time with the graceful help of her best friend neville. while also in complete denial about the feelings they are starting to have for neville. fluff + gender neutral reader! 2500 words.

side note: please don’t make fun of me if i got toad-logic wrong in this one — the fear is real bro. LMAO.

Neville talks about Trevor nearly the same way one might talk about a younger brother. Mildly annoying, but also so very important to the point that he could not even remember his life before him.

Trevor couldn’t be a better gardening pal for him, save for when he disappears while Neville is deepest in concentration with his plants. He always entertains Neville’s miniature hat creations, sitting still and proper while Neville has a good laugh.

I could not be happier about his connection to Trevor. I haven��t brought it up to him yet, but Trevor seemed to be an important figure of worthiness to Neville. I also had to appreciate that Neville had the company of a pet in his quiet house on breaks.

I only wish I would have wised up and got on better with the toad.

Amphibians and reptiles are a bit of a sore spot. To put it gently, they are a thing of nightmares to touch or even to look at. Trevor’s skin was bumpy, coarse, and loose looking. Eyes bulging, dark, and unblinkingly horrifying.

Was his skin rough? Was he heavy? Was he slimy? Oh god, and what would his bones feels like? Could Neville feel him breathing in his hands?

My stomach swam to my throat with every thought. However, the guilt from my fear of Neville’s beloved pet made me feel much worse.

I can’t help recalling from years ago, the way I once jumped a foot away from Neville’s attempt at a lighthearted pat on my shoulder. Simply because I was hyper aware that he had held Trevor in that same hand not even five seconds before.

Neville recoiled too, shock washing off his features only while I frantically showered him in embarrassed apologies. He then promptly washed his hands for a full two minutes to make me feel better. The memory was one of those that frequently replayed in my head when I laid in bed trying my best to sleep over the wailing thoughts of regret.

In place of physical adoration for the toad, I bombarded Neville with questions about him any time they struck me. Each was gratefully met with a patient and particularly-amused response from the proud toad owner.

“Trevor is bumpy and all, he sort of feels like really extreme goose pimples— no, acne.” Neville spoke while lovingly stroking his pointer finger down Trevor’s back in the Gryffindor common room.

“He isn’t heavy at all actually. One time I had him in my hand, looked away for a moment, and when I looked back he was gone. I didn’t even realize.” He whispered to me, just as Professor Binns rambled back toward their side of the classroom.

“Trevor’s not slimy!” He said whilst playfully pointing the prongs of his accusatory fork at me, “you’re thinking of frogs! And even then, I’ve read that they only look it and don’t feel it.”

“I don’t know what his bones feel like?!” Neville laughed incredulously, “seriously, where do you come up with these questions?”

Turned out my latest inquiry was the one that lead me to my doom.

The clump of red, yellow, green, and blue students travelled up the snow-white hill, returning from a full and chilly Magical Creatures lesson. I walked alongside Neville on the trek, body automatically crawling with shivers on the thought of toads once again.

“When you’re holding him, can you feel him breathing?”

Neville let out a huff of laughter between pants for air against the hill’s incline. “I suppose so, I mostly notice his heart beat normally.”

“His heartbeat?!” My gloved hands squeezed into tight fists to resist my overreactive imagination from taking over. The ghost of a toad pumping it’s lungs and beating it’s heart in my palms was enough to make me visibly cringe— which I was determined to suppress at all costs.

Hermione, who was a bit ahead of us, slowed to join our pace, “Yes, Y/N, toads have hearts too, y’know.” She said.

“You’re joking!” I announced sarcastically.

“Why don’t you just hold Trevor once, then you’ll have all the answers you need?” Hermione laughed.

“I’ve asked her and she doesn’t want to.” Neville said.

“I do want to!” I sighed, “I just can’t.”

“Yeah, she said she can’t.” Neville reiterated.

“And why not?” If Hermione was anything, she was a problem solver. And I was suddenly determined to prove that I did, in fact, have a plan of action.

“I’m scared,” I said, “but, I figured if I could gather enough information about what exactly to expect... then, maybe I could do it eventually.”

Neville finally lifted his gaze away from the trail at our feet to smile at me. His smile was open-mouthed almost like he had words on the tip of his tongue ready to fall out. But, Hermione spoke up again.

“Honestly, it’s not as bad as you might think. I think you may even be over thinking all of this. Holding Trevor is almost like... like a leather pouch.”

I muttered, “sure, a living, breathing, beloved leather pouch.”

“You should probably try touching him first before you start carrying him around,” Hermione said right as we reached the plateau level with the archway back into castle walls.

Neville and I hung by the archway like we usually do, recapturing our breaths through the rigid air. I did not expect Hermione to stand with us, allowing Ron and Harry to be carried away with the crowd entering the hall.

Her determination loomed over the silence and I felt the need to accept that solution. After all, Hermione was bound to have another seven loaded up and ready to be dispensed. And not to mention, Neville’s eyes had an unwavering sort of gleam in them that I could not quite put a finger on.

I was suddenly and weirdly diagonal with one palm against the brick arch, the other on my hip, and the toe of my boot scuffing the snow. “I could probably do that,” I had to wonder whether I was at all convincing.

“I can help you,” Neville peered into my soul, to which I decided the gleam was, at the least, highly influential.

I gulped, “yeah, I can do it.”

— — —

There Trevor was, 15 centimeters of pure, mind-numbing terror.

I felt like I had only blinked since we were standing out in the pure white snow. Except, Hermione, Neville, and I were very much in the middle of the Gryffindor common room. Comfortable in my casual change of clothes after dinner, but also filled to the brim with dread as the reds of the room edged in my vision.

“Are you ready?” Hermione smiled as encouragingly as she could.

I finally tore my eyes away from the toad perched on the couch’s arm that Neville was half-blocking with his body.

“Yeah, of course! It’s not that serious!” I gave my best snarky smirk, as if I hadn’t just gnawed a small tear into my bottom lip.

I didn’t want to refuse Hermione the opportunity to be a part of her own solution to the problem that wasn’t hers. But, then again, I wish I did only for the sake of privacy.

Hermione’s presence was a bit heavy to endure. She conjured a very deep desire to prove myself a good friend to Neville with her eyes alone. Which meant false bravery was all I could manage to show at the moment. True feelings buried not-so-deep below that crumbling surface.

“You can do it, Y/N, don’t think.” Hermione relayed that unhelpful bit of information atleast a hundred times within the span of the last fifteen minutes. Although, I did entertain it every time.

With the sudden distraction of Neville turning to pick up his pet, I managed to squeeze a “Thank you, Hermione! I got it!” through the corner of my lips.

Unfortunately, every statement of bravery was like a mating call when among Gryffindors. I could feel sets of interested eyes triple upon our little gathering without even lifting my head. In fact, I was almost positive that Dean had made his way from across the room to lean over the couch cushions from behind.

I wasn’t ready for Neville to stand from his spot on the couch, nor was I ready for him settle down in a kneel in front of me. I could’ve forgotten Trevor entirely with the way I was focused in on Neville’s face. He hadn’t looked one bit nervous, which was a rare and reassuring sight. I had to smile at the thought that, for once, I was the one emitting enough nervous energy for the both of us.

He was pretty quiet up until that point, so his voice made my breath quicken as finality closed in around me. “I’m going to help you, alright?”

That was it, no going back. My face felt as though it was glowing redder than the room. The fluttering in my stomach clashed awfully against the dread that was already shacked up there. I clenched my jaw tight, trying desperately for a look of certainty as I nodded.

Trevor sat comfortably still between Neville’s palms, face nearly pressed into Neville’s chest. I almost wanted to joke that it looked like I was about to be proposed to with the arse of a toad, but Neville brought some humor of his own.

A mischievous grin crept over his lips first, “and you can wash your hands right after.”

I grinned despite the huff of sorrowful air that escaped me. The horrid memory filled me with a brand new sense of urgency to right my wrongs. I held him by his shoulders, “I’m really, really, really sorry about that!”

Neville almost bent forward in hearty laughter, until he realized that he shouldn’t bring Trevor any closer. “No, I know, I know! I was trying to lighten the air.” He shook his head gently, “Come on now.”

I scooted forward in my seat to plant my feet flat on the carpet, fists already balled up tight. “Yeah, come on now,” I echoed, perfectly-thoughtless, as Hermione instructed.

“I’m going to hold him right here, and he’s not going to move. All you have to do is put your fingertips on mine, okay?” Neville instructed so gently that I was ironically totally overwhelmed.

I took the look around the room that I was avoiding, and sure enough, Gryffindors were gawking from every angle. Hermione nodded and Dean was smiling extra wide.

I couldn’t find words. Instead a single shaky hand of mine unwound itself and reached forward. It very unhelpfully occurred to me at that second that I had never even touched Neville’s hands before. And you know what, it shouldn’t be strange to admit your best friend has nice hands. Because he does. Not helpful information, but definitely information.

I was almost worried that my aim was so shaky that I would miss his nails altogether and jab Trevor.

But before I knew it, I was touching the hand that was touching Trevor. Which, of course, reintroduced the smile to my face when reminded of Neville’s joke.

“Yes! Now, I’m just going to pet Trevor, and you can keep your fingers on mine until you’re ready, alright?”

I was too nervous to move my gaze from Trevor any more, but I presumed from the cheer in Neville’s voice that he was smiling hard.

He slowly moved his fingertips to the top of Trevor’s head, and I had to press harder to keep from slipping astray. Then, Neville did exactly as he explained.

My upper lip began to furl up as my imagination ran buck wild in my mind. The worst of all textures invaded my senses and made me want to cringe out of existence. My eyes squinted at the seemingly violent breathing and heart beating that bumped against his warty surface. Our fingertips stroked down his back so many times that my movements felt robotic.

It was automatic enough to break my stare away from it when Neville called my name, “are you breathing?”

I blinked a few times, and let in a gasp of air that I hadn’t even realized I needed. “Apparently, not.” I laughed, surprised by my hushed volume.

“Merlin, so much suspense for this?” a Gryffindor near the windows was met with a brief glare from Neville, but he concentrated on me.

“Why don’t you take a big breath, and then try putting your fingers in front of mine?”

I loosened up my face, as I took a deep breath in. The long breath out allowed my other hand to unwind as well. I parted my teeth, while my fingertips eased on to the very tip of his nails. “Okay,” I tried another deep, thoughtless breath.

“You can do it, Y/N.” He whispered.

I blinded myself with my unoccupied hand.

Trevor felt gravelly.

Like extreme acne.

His breathing was not nearly as noticeable as the racing heart, beating at the top of his body.

He had a spine.

Noticeable only because the several wobbly scribbles of a line that I tried to draw was not nearly as straight as the subtle ridge at the center of his back.

I eased the hand off of my eyes. Sure to embarrass myself as the sting of tears felt closer than ever. When I looked between us, the room felt a little bit bigger. Almost like we weren’t surrounded by onlookers awaiting my first true reaction.

Our knees were resting so carelessly against each others. Neville’s hand was no longer stroking Trevor with me, it was upright exactly the way someone would hold a ring box ajar. His face was flushed pink, a dopey smile on full display.

My heart floated up and out of my body, drifting high above my head like a balloon. A smile of my own lit up my entire face, while I cupped my palm on Trevor’s back like Neville did minutes before.

Dean and Hermione congratulated me on my fierce battle versus a backwards toad.

But then Trevor made an awful noise that made me jump to attention.

“Okay, Trevor’s done for... the rest of the year.” Neville hurriedly placed the toad on the table behind him.

When he turned to face me, the tiny bit of nerves that infinitely plagued his features returned while he was very caught up between continuing to kneel or standing up.

I hopped to my feet, helping Neville choose to straighten himself up as well.

“That was amazing, Y/N!”

“You’re, you’re— amazing, Nev!” I must have forgotten to resume thinking because I trapped him in a hug. His arms pressed against his sides and all.

After a burst of his nervous laughter rattled through the air, he tried to hug me in return. When only able to bend at his elbows, he hovered his hands over the edges of my back for a moment. Until finally he placed his hands even softer than the touch I just shared with Trevor.

Dean and Hermione swapped looks then, and I had to shut my eyes to pretend I didn’t notice.

[poguesofthebau]

memory breach

summary: while out in the field, you fall into the hands of the unsub. after the incident, your hospitalization hits the team a little too hard. to make matters worse, you wake up in the hospital with a foggy memory and some nasty injuries. on top of having no recollection of the attack itself, you seem to have forgotten about chunks of your life-- including spencer, your boyfriend. warnings: memory loss/amnesia, head injuries, gunshot wound, hospitalization

word count: 8.8k (the longest thing i’ve ever written) pairing: spencer reid x female!bau!reader

a/n: here comes the angst, y’all. this one was requested by @astrologics​! i wound up straying away from the request a bit, but i hope you still enjoy! as usual, reader is a part of the team (because i wish i was a part of the team so it always makes writing more fun for me). i don’t think i’ve ever done serious, real angst, so this is my first time including warnings. please let me know if i missed anything that should be included and i will add it!! also lmk if anyone would be interested in some potential spin-off blurb ideas from this one! they would take place mostly during the line breaks in this fic!

he knew you could handle yourself. spencer knew that.

regardless of having that knowledge, he still hated every moment of every case that required you going out into the field. if you were with another team member, spencer had to mentally remind himself that, i trust morgan with her. i trust jj with her. i trust hotch with her. i trust emily with her. i trust rossi with her. and i trust her with them. if you were going out alone, though, his inner monologue went rampant. no matter how many mantras of trust and faith he repeated in his own head, the worry was always more dominant. the only time he found peace was when he was the one with you.

it was silly, and spencer knew that. he knew that he should be able to trust you to not get yourself hurt. but, at the same time, he knew you had the same sense of urgency that he did when it came to saving lives. it was easy for both of you to get caught up in the desperation and rush of it all, and you’d both do whatever you believed necessary to accomplish the task of saving people in danger. the only time spencer was able to contain that urge was when you were by his side. if you were there, too, your life was also on the line, which made spencer a thousand times more cautious on the field. he knew one of you had to stay level-headed and logical, and he always took the reigns of that position when it had to fall upon either him or you. being the one by your side brought him a sense of comfort, but it also increased his sense of responsibility, placing him in the role of the rationally-thinking agent.

all of that-- essentially, his constant need to know you were safe-- factored into the terror spencer felt when you went into the house alone.

the case had been quick so far. maybe it was because the murders were happening in dc, which saved the team some time when it came to getting to know the case and its locations. there was no ‘wheels up in 30′ from hotch, or two-hour flight to a different state, or time wasted asking where in a local precinct you could set up, or unfamiliar drives to crime scenes. regardless, it felt like the unsub had fallen directly into your laps when the team figured out who and where he was, and for that reason, spencer was on his toes. however, it was undeniable that he couldn’t have possibly controlled the time frame of the case, especially the portion of it that had resulted in your entering the house without backup.

you’d arrived to the house with emily. you’d been sent together to the location from which the unsub snatched his latest victim, and after a witness statement, composite sketch, and description of the unsub, garcia was able to pinpoint an address within 5 minutes. much to spencer’s dismay, you and emily had been the closest to the location. so, as the rest of the team rushed to meet you at the house, emily was just parking the suv. when you pulled up, the two of you made a joint decision to go around the back first, agreeing that it’d be the easiest and most effective point of entry. the plan came to a head when you found a barely breathing victim on the back porch.

“she’s still breathing.” emily didn’t have a chance to say anything else before you darted into the house. by yourself. she glanced undecidedly between the door you’d disappeared through and the unconscious woman on the ground. just as emily twitched to follow after you, the woman below her coughed violently, and, with no outward actions to expose her internal hesitation, emily was holstering her weapon and crouching down to try to help the victim.

three minutes passed before the rest of the team arrived. from her position on the back porch where the victim had now come to but refused to be left alone, emily felt helpless. there she was, beside a woman who had been attacked by a violent serial killer, while her teammate and friend was inside with the murderer. it was a sickening feeling for emily to know that she was partially responsible for whatever happened next, but there was a louder voice in her head-- your voice-- telling her to stay where she was, and to save the person you’d come to help. for those three minutes that you were alone, emily felt useless.

then, she heard the suvs come to a screeching halt nearby. “here!” she immediately called, hearing the sounds of rushing and scattered voices and she applied pressure to the victim’s wounds. spencer was the first one she saw, and the relief that had come with the team’s arrival quickly washed away, only to be replaced by guilt. not giving him a chance to ask the question, emily raised a hand and pointed to the door. “she went in, reid, i couldn’t stop her.”

a look of horror crossed spencer’s face as he bolted through the door, morgan and hotch following quickly behind. spencer was now sprinting through the house, gun pointed and coworkers in tow. with every room he cleared, every room he looked for you in to no avail, his movements became fueled by more and more desperation. soon enough he was bounding up the stairs, and as he reached the second floor, his ears tuned in to the sound of a struggle. he could hear punches being thrown as he ran, and your voice calling out warnings his brain couldn’t register. the first two doors he threw open exposed vacant rooms. and then, finally, he found you. you and the unsub.

the moment spencer stepped through the doorframe, he was wincing. as the door swung open, the unsub was shoving your head backward, smashing your skull into the wooden wall behind you. spencer could hear hotch and morgan barking instructions behind him, but he was stunned into silence at the sight. in those few seconds, spencer swore he could hear everything going on around the entire world. but none of it mattered, because the things he was hearing weren’t factoring into his thoughts at all. all he could focus on was what he was seeing happen to you. he didn’t hear morgan yell gun, and he didn’t hear hotch shouting reid, back up. he was still moving forward, toward you, when the two consecutive gunshots went off. he saw you collapse, hitting the ground with a thump that made him nauseous. his peripherals caught the unsub doing the same, but the thud of him hitting the ground didn’t even begin to register in spencer’s mind.

within a split second, spencer was beside you on the ground, calling your name and praying to gods he wasn’t sure he believed in that you would open your eyes and just see him. his ears were ringing at that point, but his vision was only getting sharper. he spotted the blood on the floor surrounding your head first, and then he realized that your blood was coating his hands. he turned your head, simultaneously finding the inevitable head injury and concluding that the blood on his hands had to be coming from somewhere else-- your head was in bad condition, but it wasn’t a realistic explanation for the puddle of red beneath you. “no, y/n, hey. no, no, no,” he muttered, hands hovering over you as his eyes scanned your body for a secondary injury. it didn’t take him long to find the gunshot wound in your shoulder. “no, y/n, wake up, honey. you have to wake up.” tears were streaming down his face, impairing his vision, dropping onto your face beneath him.

suddenly hotch was there, kneeling on the other side of you. spencer watched his superior put pressure on the source of the blood, and he knew he needed to do something. you were unconscious and bleeding right in front of him, and he couldn’t think of anything to do? what kind of genius was that? he needed to--

spencer’s inner monologue was interrupted before he had a chance to think of how else he should’ve been helping you. his sight was still blurred by tears, but he was able to recognize the uniformed paramedics beside him. hotch made his way around your limp body, gently grabbing spencer by the shoulders and lifting him up so the paramedics could get you onto a gurney. when he realized he was being moved away from you, spencer began to fight. he shook himself out of hotch’s grasp, moving to dive back down to your level, but being intercepted by morgan’s bicep reaching out and taking hold of him. “let me go! let me go, morgan! i have to-- i have to--”

“hey, kid, hey,” morgan was calling out, shaking spencer to get his attention. spencer’s eyes flickered quickly to the man once before settling back onto you. he was still crying, something he’d forgotten about until he watched you being lifted onto the gurney. “i know you gotta stay with her, reid. just stop for one second. look at me. reid.” his last word was gentler than the others, almost pleading with the younger man. with a few seconds of hesitation, spencer tore his eyes away from your tarnished body to lock eyes with morgan. the eye contact was intense. if he wasn’t so racked with worry over you, he would’ve felt exposed and uncomfortable. right then, though, he was too caught up in his thoughts of you to contemplate the way morgan was staring at him. “reid.”

spencer blinked, a few stray tears escaping as he adjusted to seeing morgan instead of you. his mouth opened and closed a few times, but he settled on shaking his head in place of trying to use his words. “i can’t-- if something happens, morgan, i--” the lump in his throat forced him to stop speaking, and he swallowed a few times before resorting to shaking his head again.

“hey, kid,” morgan said. spencer’s eyes had dropped to the ground, and it was morgan’s turn to glance back at you. the paramedics had successfully lifted you onto the gurney, and they were starting to roll you out of the room. “are you gonna be alright in that ambulance? because, i know you need it, but if you can’t handle it, man--”

spencer heard the wheels of the gurney through morgans words, and his eyes lifted back to you. “i have to go with her, morgan. i can’t not go.” morgan looked at spencer one more time, trying to find any sign of a lie in his eyes, before finally releasing him. and then spencer dashed out of the room after you, trying to mentally brace himself for whatever would come next.

the ambulance ride had been torture. and then came the waiting around at the hospital.

as cliche as he knew it was, he had truly never loved someone as much as he loved you, and certainly never in the way he loved you. there was something indescribable about the two of you together. neither of you were ever able to put it into words, no matter how hard or how often you tried. you were something like spencer’s best friend, guardian angel, twin flame, and soulmate all rolled into one human, but there was so much more to you than being his. you were kind, and loving, and certain, and stubborn, and selfless, and so many other things. even a person as intelligent as spencer couldn’t think of all the words that existed to describe you. on multiple occasions, spencer had coined you as “everything” when someone asked what you were like, because it was the most accurate word he could come up with.

of all the things spencer had seen in his life, all the trauma and bad experiences, this had to be the worst. and it was the worst because it was you-- the last person he would ever want hurt.

“hey, reid.” once again, spencer was cut off from his own thoughts. this time, though, it was by garcia, whose voice was gentle as she approached. he glanced up from his seat in the stiff hospital chair in the hallway, spotting his friend in her bright outfit complete with a flower in her hair that would’ve irritated spencer at that moment had anyone else been wearing it. however, this was penelope, and while spencer wasn’t in the mood to chat very much, he was relieved to see she was the one who’d been sent to see him. out of everyone on the team, garcia had the highest success rate when it came to providing him any possible level of comfort. the rest of the team was piled into the hospital’s waiting room just around the corner, but spencer had talked himself into a seat significantly closer to where you were currently being operated on. the first two hours of your surgery, he sat silently in the waiting room with the team, but he convinced himself he’d go crazy if he wasn’t as close to you as possible, which had eventually landed him a spot in the corridor. he’d been there, apart from everyone else, for almost an hour. that hour seemed like nothing compared to the three you’d been in surgery.

“hi, garcia.” his voice was quiet, and penelope frowned when she realized he was still in the same mindset as the last time she saw him. realizing the woman wasn’t planning on leaving him alone, spencer cleared his throat before adding, “there’s, um-- there’s no word yet.”

penelope sighed, moving to sit in the vacant chair beside him. “i figured. but, actually, i wasn’t here for updates. i wanted to see how you were holding up, but it doesn’t really seem like you are holding up.” spencer scoffed a laugh at that. garcia unintentionally (and usually unknowingly) putting her foot in her mouth had always been one of your favorite things about her. “reid?”

he sighed then, succumbing to the weight of her stare and looking at her. “i’m scared, penelope.” his words were a whisper, and that whisper snapped penelope garcia’s heart in half. she loved reid, and she loved you, and you both deserved so much better than this. it was a frustration that truly never left her-- why did the people she loved, the best people, always have to go through the worst events?

“i know, honey,” she nodded, blinking back tears. “i’m scared too. the others told me i shouldn’t act like i’m scared in front of you, but-- well, we both know i can’t really fake a smile.” she reached over and grabbed spencer’s hand in hers, giving it a squeeze and feeling the pressure being returned almost immediately after. “she’s strong, reid. so strong-- stronger than any of us. this is y/n we’re talking about. she’ll pull through. if not for the team, or for herself, she’ll pull through for you. i know she will. she has to.”

spencer looked at her, a twinge of hope in his eye at her words. sometimes, he thought no one could see you and him. it was such an intimate feeling, being in love, that he often forgot that people around him could gauge that love, too. and, knowing garcia, she was able to gauge it much better than most others. spencer’s lips stretched into the slightest smile at the thought, but before he could answer, his attention was grabbed by the sound of footsteps approaching. he raised his eyes to see who would turn the corner, only to find jj, morgan, hotch, rossi, and emily. confusion rushed over spencer, and the anxiety in his stomach that had been subdued by his conversation with penelope came flooding back. “what is it?”

morgan smiled comfortingly. “we came to see what was taking garcia so long with the snack delivery.”

“oh!” garcia reached into her pocket with the hand that wasn’t in reid’s, pulling out a packet of vending machine cookies. with a smile, she handed them over to spencer. “i almost forgot.”

“i wanted to come alone,” jj interjected lightheartedly. “but then we got into an argument about who to send, so here we all are.”

the next to jump in was hotch. “how are you?” the simple question seemed to jar spencer, slowing down the rest of the chatter swirling around the group of agents.

spencer couldn’t find the words to answer, and he soon felt garcia squeezing his hand again. his eyes met hers and he smiled sadly, eyes then panning around to see the faces of his friends. the last person his sights landed on was emily, who looked like some combination of a kicked puppy, a guilty teenager, and a remorseful child. the expression on her face only hurt spencer more, and he made a quick decision upon seeing it. swiftly, he stood from his seat and let garcia’s hand slide out of his. not losing eye contact with emily, he took two steps toward her before engulfing her in his arms. for a second, she was stunned. in all honesty, she expected spencer to be mad at her. mad for leaving you, mad for not following the rules, mad for anything. and she wouldn’t have blamed him. but here he was, holding her in his arms like she was the one who had been hurt. a second later, she hugged him back, burying her head in his shoulder and letting the tears fall through a whispered, “i’m so sorry.”

ignoring the tears that were falling from his own eyes, spencer rubbed emily’s back reassuringly and muttered back, “it’s not your fault, emily.”

as the two agents released each other from the embrace, the operating room doors swung open. “y/n y/l/n?”

“yes, that’s me-- that’s us,” spencer immediately confirmed. his heart was pounding in his chest, and he felt like his breathing had completely halted. “is she-- is she--”

“she’s okay,” the man said with a faint smile. the entire team physically deflated before the man, a rush of relief flowing through all of them. before the doctor could give any more details, penelope was enveloping emily in another hug, and morgan was wrapping an arm around spencer’s shoulders with a beaming smile. spencer, however, was still looking expectantly to the man in scrubs, eyes wide as he waited for the rest of the news. “we were able to dislodge the bullet from her shoulder, and the gunshot wound is all stitched up and ready to heal.”

“what about the head injury?” spencer couldn’t handle the suspense. in fact, he was growing a little impatient with the doctor, and that impatience was quickly morphing into anger. he needed answers-- he needed to know if you were truly okay.

“there have been some complications with the head injury.” and, just like that, the rest of the team was holding their breaths with spencer. “she had a skull fracture and a severe concussion. she’ll have some visual impairments when she first wakes up-- trouble seeing at first, which should decrease to light sensitivity and some general blurriness. i know you’re all used to seeing her very mobile, but she’ll have lots of muscle weakness when she comes to. she’s going to be fragile.”

“is that everything?” hotch’s voice sounded off from the group.

“not quite,” the doctor sighed as he scanned the group and continued. “the visual impairments that i described, they’ll be due to direct trauma to the occipital lobe. however, there was some damage done to other parts of the brain as well, and there’s a decent amount of swelling in her head that hasn’t gone down yet. we’re not certain, but we’re afraid that swelling may have in impact on memory.”

after a beat of silence from the whole group, rossi took initiative in speaking next. “what does that mean, an impact on memory?”

“putting it in simple terms, we’re expecting her to have a degree of amnesia when she regains consciousness. there’s no way to be certain until she’s awake again, but it is likely that she won’t be able to recall most details of the event, and that memory loss could also extend to longer-term memories.”

morgan’s arm dropped from spencer’s shoulder then, and he turned to see his younger friend’s reaction.

to put it simply, spencer looked like the world had stopped spinning. “you’re-- so you’re saying-- she might not remember us.”

the doctor nodded morbidly. “again, we’re not completely certain. it’s possible her memory loss will be minimal, but you should all have some awareness of the possibility that she may not know you right now.”

spencer blinked a few times, feeling the world around him distort. how am i supposed to do this? how is this going to be okay? how is this really happening? his feet took him back a few steps and he dropped into the chair he’d previously stood from. his head fell into his hands, fingers raking through his hair as he tried not to lose his mind completely. a part of him was convinced that he was dreaming-- there was no way any of this was real, right?

“okay,” hotch said wistfully. as hard as this news was hitting him, too, he knew the rest of the team would need someone to take the reigns in a situation like this, and he knew he was that person. “what happens next?”

“she’ll be brought into a recovery room for the next few days-- she’s being brought over to a room as we speak. we’ll monitor her closely, and the meds that kept her out during the surgery should wear off fairly quickly, possibly within the hour. until she wakes up, one of you will be able to be in the room with her at a time, and once we can get an idea of how she’s doing, the rest of you will be welcome to see her.”

“reid,” hotch called, turning to look at him. when they locked eyes, a part of hotch’s facade shattered. his eyes softened, the hurt and fear in spencer’s eyes too powerful for even aaron hotchner to mentally omit. spencer sniffled, roughly wiping the tears from his face as he stood again. he stepped up next to hotch, nodding at him. spencer turned to face the doctor, but was quickly stopped by hotch’s hand on his shoulder. when he turned back to face his boss, hotch’s expression had changed. now, he was looking at spencer with an expression that told him he knew what he was going through. “are you sure that you’re okay to see her right now?”

“i have to be,” spencer whispered. hotch searched spencer’s eyes for another moment before finally nodding submissively and letting his agent follow the doctor through the hospital to the room where you were.

spencer had hated the ambulance ride, and he’d hated sitting in that hospital chair not knowing if you were okay, and now he hated looking at you like this. there was bruising under your eyes-- a nurse, not knowing that spencer could figure it out for himself, had explained that the bruising was due to the skull fracture and the swelling in your head-- and he could just barely see the gauze poking out from under your hospital gown, covering the stitched up gunshot wound you’d suffered. he could still make out a tinge of makeup smudged on your face, and your hair was in a tangled, disheveled mess, with more white gauze wrapped around your head. he counted twelve additional bruises and cuts that hadn’t been on your body the day before, and those were just the visible ones. he knew there had to be more, hidden underneath the hospital gown and blanket that you were tucked under. your bottom lip was split open, and the sight reminded spencer of the moment just after the unsub had bashed your head against the wall. the vision of you hitting the ground flashed across his mind, and he suddenly remembered seeing your head bounce sharply off the ground, causing you to unintentionally bite down on your own lip. spencer cringed at the memory.

his eyes flickered down to your hands. immediately, he saw the tan lines on the index and ring fingers of your right hand, and a wave of nausea hit him. on a regular day, you would have a ring from your grandmother on your index finger, and the promise ring he’d gotten you on your ring finger. playing with the rings was a nervous habit of yours, and the entire team had picked up on the tendency a few days after spencer had gifted you the promise ring. from then on, it had become an inside joke among the team-- whenever you reached for that ring, morgan or jj made a sarcastic comment about you “thinking of your husband-to-be.” it was a small difference in appearance, but the thought plagued him. spencer was overwhelmed with discomfort at the discrepancy, and his eyes darted around the room to find the bag containing your personal items. he spotted the plastic bag on the nightstand to your left, and moved to grab it. after slipping the two rings back onto their respective fingers, spencer found himself sifting aimlessly through the rest of your belongings-- your badge, the necklace and earrings you’d been wearing, and your wallet.

trying to do anything to keep his mind occupied and his focus on something other than how hurt you were in that bed beside him, spencer pulled your wallet from the bag and flipped it open. his fingers grazed the faux leather absentmindedly, and before he could toss it back into the bag, his eyes landed on the one photo you always kept on your person. he slid the picture out of its slot in your wallet, blinking back tears at the memory. as he put your wallet back down on top of the bag, the wind was slightly knocked out of him at the rush of feelings. he found himself sucking in air harder than he should’ve had to, but before he could give in to the emotions, he heard the monitor beside him start beeping faster than it had since he arrived.

for a second, spencer was frozen in place as his brain stuttered at the idea of you having woken up already. the hesitation didn’t last long before he was spinning around to face you and getting visual confirmation of his suspicion-- you were awake again.

“um, hi?”

at the sound of you voice, no matter how confused or uncertain it was at that moment, spencer found himself guffawing in relief, tears pricking at his eyes as he grinned in awe. as his eyes locked with yours for the first time since you’d left the office that morning, spencer was on cloud nine. you were there, and you were alive, and you were awake, and--

she doesn’t know who i am.

the thought struck spencer harder than your waking up had. you were awake, but you didn’t know who he was. the smile vanished from spencer’s face, and the tears that were now spilling from his eyes became ones of agony. he felt a quick and sudden flash of embarrassment, realizing that he was crying in front of someone who had no idea who he was, and he swiped the tears from his face before taking a deep breath and giving you a sad smile. “hi, y/n. uh, i’m-- i’m spencer.”

the next few seconds felt like someone had their foot on spencer’s neck. you were processing his words as you held eye contact, blinking slowly a few times. he couldn’t place the expression you wore. all he could see in it was a twinge of confusion, but that didn’t seem to be the only emotion you were feeling. spencer opened his mouth to further explain, but you beat him to speaking.

“obviously, spence.”

now it was his turn to be confused. his eyes widened at your words, and he knew his cheeks were turning red as the heat rushed to his face. “you remember me?”

you were shaking your head lightly then, fighting the urge to wince at the pain that struck the back of your skull as you moved. “how could i forget you, doctor reid? you’re my best friend.” slowly, spencer’s face morphed again. and, this time, even you knew something was wrong-- at least, something other than you being in the hospital. “did i say something?” he sighed, shaking his head morbidly as he took a step toward you. he sat down on your bed, and you finally caught a glimpse of the small piece of paper he held in his hands. it was a picture. “what’s that?”

he opened his mouth to spew out some form of an explanation, but before he could get anything out, the door to your room was swinging open.

“miss y/l/n,” the doctor was calling brightly as he entered. “nice of you to join us again. how’re you feeling?”

a little disoriented by everything going on around you-- spencer acting so different, the beeping of the monitor you were hooked up to, the doctor materializing in your room who currently seemed to know more about you than you knew about yourself-- you looked between spencer and the man in scrubs a few times before settling on the latter. “i’m-- i mean, i guess i’m okay. a little confused, i guess, and my eyes kind of hurt, but fine otherwise.”

the doctor nodded, grabbing your chart from the foot of your bed as he approached you. he took out a light, flashing it in both of your eyes a few times before pocketing it again. “your eyes are looking good-- normal movement and coloration. do you remember anything about what you were doing just before you lost consciousness?”

you thought for some time, finally realizing what was happening. there were chunks of your memory missing. “honestly, i don’t think i remember much. i can’t say what the case was, but i know we were working one.” spencer watched you from the side of your bed, seeing the gears turn in your head as you tried to recall whatever you could. “i think i was with... jj-- no. no, i was with emily, and we found the vic. she was breathing, so i went in the house and emily stayed with the girl. i know i went in. i-- i can’t remember what happened after that. i can’t-- why can’t i remember what happened after that?”

“because you found the unsub, y/n.” spencer’s voice was low, and it held a weight that told you more than his words did. you’d found the unsub, and it mustn’t have been pretty. suddenly you were aware of the dull ache radiating throughout your body, the pain exceptionally worse in your head and shoulder.

“dr. reid and the rest of your team can fill you in on the details of the case that your memory is missing a little later, but the more important matter is your injuries. you sustained a skull fracture and concussion, and you were shot in the shoulder. aside from that, you’re pretty generally banged up, but that head and shoulder are our biggest concern right now. you seem to be doing better than we were preparing for, which is amazing. some nurses will be in soon to poke at you a little more, and you’ll have to spend a few more nights here for observation, but we’re expecting a full recovery physically.”

you had a million questions flying through your head as he spoke, but when the doctor asked if he could do anything else for you, you found yourself shaking your head and dismissing him. for some reason you couldn’t pinpoint, you felt like you needed to talk to spencer before anything else-- you needed him to fill in the holes for you. there was no one else you would trust to do it. why was there no one else you would trust more than spencer? what didn’t you remember that made him the one you needed to hear all this from?

“do you want me to go get the others? everyone should still be here-- jj, emily, hotch, morgan, rossi, and garcia. they wouldn’t leave until you woke up.”

“if it’s okay, i would rather talk to you first,” you told him. he nodded, glancing back down longingly at the picture he was holding. he sighed again, and looked back at you with sad eyes. “spence, what am i missing?”

he held the photo out for you to take, and when you got your first real look at the entire photo, your heart shattered.

in the picture, spencer was standing behind you with his chin resting comfortably on top of your head. his arms were wrapped around your waist, and your hands were resting on top of his. both of you were grinning, and it was clear in the photo that you were trying to peek up at him, head tilted up toward his. when you blinked, you swore you could hear spencer laughing from behind you, or feel his arms wrapped around you, or see garcia grinning and calling out directions through giggles as she snapped the picture, or emily, jj, and morgan cheering behind the camera. you tried to grab onto the snapshot of a memory, but it was gone as quickly as it came. the frustration was clear on your face as spencer watched you analyze the image, and he felt a stab to his heart at the fact that this was harder for you than it was him. he heard you swear under your breath as your eyes skimmed the picture one last time. your eyes fluttered shut for a second as you tried to remember anything, but all you could see were those same four flashes of the same memory. you knew you should’ve been grateful that you remembered anything on your own, but all you could focus on was the idea that you had an entire relationship and all you knew of it was one picture.

“are you okay?” spencer’s gentle voice pulled you out of your own mental abyss, and you forced yourself to open your eyes and look at him.

“i’m--” you glanced down at your hands, flinching when you saw the two rings on your fingers. you remembered those rings. “i’m so sorry, spencer.”

spencer was shaking his head at that, his hand finding its way into yours and giving it a squeeze. “there’s nothing for you to be sorry about.”

“yes, there is. i-- i went into that house by myself, and i don’t know exactly what happened when i did, but i know it landed me here, and i know i can’t remember things that are important to me, and i know how you probably feel right now, and i’m sorry for that. i shouldn’t have gone in alone. if i hadn’t gone in alone, i would remember everything about us right now, and even though i don’t remember, i know i want to, and i know i should.”

“it’s okay. y/n,” as he called your name, his hand slipped under your chin to lift your head, and with the softest touch, spencer was forcing you to look at him again. “i didn’t think you were going to remember who i was at all. it’s not perfect, but it’s best case scenario that you even know my name. we can always make more memories, okay?” stray tears slipped out of your eyes as you nodded at him.

“can i ask you some questions?” spencer gave you a tight-lipped smile at the question as he nodded. his hand slid back into yours, and you laced your fingers through his without a second thought as you spoke. “what’s today’s date?” spencer answered the question without a second’s hesitation, and you nodded slowly before speaking again. “how long have we been together? can you tell me the story?”

“of course i can.” the smile on his face was genuine then, and seeing it caused a swirl of hope and adoration in your stomach. you couldn’t remember finally getting with spencer, but you remembered how he’d made you feel before. you knew you loved him. “i loved you for so long before i finally told you. it was morgan and penelope, really. you’d told penelope that you liked me, and somehow you didn’t believe her when she told you all of the bureau already knew how i felt about you. morgan scared me into telling you how i felt-- he gave me the whole “if you don’t tell her how you feel, she’ll end up with someone else” speech one night when he knew you and i were supposed to hang out-- platonically, of course. it was six months ago, and we were supposed to go to the movies together-- i couldn’t tell you what we were supposed to see, even if you asked. you chose a movie, and i just went along with whatever you suggested because i was too scared and too lovestruck to question you. i picked you up from your apartment, and we started talking about our most recent case before that night while we drove there. when i parked, you said we couldn’t go into the theater for another ten minutes because the previews hadn’t started yet, so i took that as my cue to confess, i suppose. i rambled for a while before i got to the point, as i tend to, and we spent the next four hours talking in the theater parking lot. we missed the movie, but we agreed that it was worth missing for our first kiss after unknowingly pining over each other for a year.”

“so penelope wasn’t lying when she told me you had feelings for me, too?” spencer laughed and shook his head. “that’s good to know.”

“did you have anything else to ask?” you smiled at him, shaking your head lightly. “would it be okay if i went and got everyone else? they’re pretty worried about you.”

“i did take a bullet and get my head cracked open, so that makes sense,” you sarcastically replied. you were acting so much like yourself that spencer almost forgot the truth of your condition. if he hadn’t just recounted that story for you, he would’ve thought you had all the same memories he did. he moved to stand from your bed, but your grip on his hand tightened before he could get far. “do you mind just sending a nurse to get them? i’d like it if you stayed with me, if that’s okay.”

so spencer pressed the button by your bed to call in a nurse, giving you a few seconds of free time to wrack your brain for all the memories you could grab onto.

the next two days were essentially the same.

nurses would come into your room, ask you a few of the same questions, check a few of the same stats, change your bandages, and give you updates on your condition. spencer stayed with you, only leaving once when you sent him home to shower and get an outfit that hadn’t been pulled out of his go bag. during those three hours that spencer was gone, you’d called your doctor into your room. you hadn’t wanted to say anything in front of spencer or the team, but the fog surrounding your memories was beginning to dissipate, and you needed to know where that put you. it was hard to keep from the people you loved, but you didn’t want to get their hopes up for your mind’s full recovery if it wasn’t medically possible.

by the end of the first day you were awake, you’d remembered more than you admitted to. from the second spencer started telling the story of your first kiss, you were able to remember things he assumed were gone forever. you knew that two months into your relationship, the team finally caught on. you knew that spencer had said ‘i love you’ first, and you knew he’d said it while he was half-asleep as the two of you were curled up in his bed after a night out with the team. you knew hotch gave you both his permission to pursue a relationship while also maintaining professionalism in the field and office, and you knew that was a line you and spencer never crossed. you knew that the first time you ever wore his cardigan to work, thinking nothing of it, morgan and emily had teased you for it for the rest of the day, even assigning you a new nickname of ‘mrs. cardigan’ from then on. you knew spencer had given you a promise ring for your four month anniversary, and you vividly remembered how nervous he’d been to present the gift, and how hard you’d cried when you realized spencer was the one.

the last memory you’d recovered before sending spencer home so you could discreetly converse with your doctor was the memory of the picture. it was the first trace of your relationship you’d seen after being hospitalized, and it was the one that triggered the rest of your memories. whenever you tried to unlock the mental images of that day, you wound up recalling other events instead. after a day and a half of trying and failing miserably to remember the day that picture was taken, you made a mental decision to reveal your recovered memories to anyone around you only when you could successfully recount that day. and, finally, after all that energy you put into trying, you remembered it.

when you finally revealed to the doctor that your memories were recovering themselves with the help of your team being around, you didn’t get the reaction you were expecting. you’d braced yourself to be scolded and maybe even lectured for keeping valuable information from your doctor, but all you got was a chuckle. when he laughed, your face contorted into such profound confusion that the doctor laughed again. “i don’t mean to laugh, really. it’s a serious matter, as i’m sure you know, but it’s a bit of a comical situation, especially considering that i know your memories are coming back on their own.” your eyebrows raised at the claim, and the doctor continued with a genuine smile. “i deal with amnesia patients more often than you might think, and i’ve learned the signs. i know when my patients are progressing, and i know when they’re regressing. it’s been clear to me for a while now that you would be ready for discharge by tomorrow.”

“discharge? as in, sending me home?” the doctor nodded. “are you sure i’m ready for that? i mean, i’m starting to remember things, but how can you be sure that i’ll keep remembering?”

“from the moment you woke up, miss y/l/n, you were exceeding our expectations for recovery. based on that, i assumed your time here would be accelerated, and the changes in your physical condition have shown that you’ll be able to get closer to normal than you think you can. and, now that you’ve admitted to remembering so much, i’m even more certain of that. y/n, you’re regaining your memory. there will most likely be permanent gaps missing in your mind from the day of your incident, but everything else will come back eventually.”

“i’ll remember everything?”

“yes, you will. tomorrow you’ll be able to fill out the discharge papers and go home.” with one final smile, the doctor exited the room.

when the door clicked shut behind him, your face broke out into a grin a hundred times bigger than the smile the doctor had given you. you were going to remember.

an hour after your conversation with the doctor, spencer was walking back into your room. his bag was slung over his shoulder and he held a coffee in each hand. things almost felt normal in that moment, and you thought of the countless times he’d strolled into the bullpen just like that, loving smile on his face as he brought you your first dose of caffeine for the day. every time, he’d smooth a hand over your head in place of a kiss on the lips, and you’d gaze at him endearingly as you took a much needed gulp of the coffee. the thought of such normalcy brought a smile to your face, and spencer looked at you suspiciously. “hey, spence.”

he placed both coffees on the table beside your bed, dropping his bag on the floor as he slid into his usual seat. “hi, y/n. you seem like you’re doing better today.” you nodded at his assumption, and your enthusiasm only seemed to further confuse him. “i don’t have to be a genius to know that the odds of someone in your condition smiling like that from a hospital bed are very low. did something happen while i was gone?”

“kind of,” you eluded. patting the empty spot on your bed, you beckoned him to come closer. he moved to sit in the spot you’d directed him to, and as soon as he was settled, you were spilling a portion of the news. “i get to go home tomorrow.”

spencer’s eyes lit up at the revelation, a smile that matched your pasting itself onto his face. “y/n, that’s amazing! already? you talked to the doctor while i was gone?”

“i talked to the doctor while you were gone.” a giggle slipped past your lips at spencer’s expression. he was shaking his head at your actions, and you didn’t doubt that he was a little annoyed that he wasn’t there for the conversation. “i’m sorry, spence. i just didn’t want you to be here for it, in case it was bad news.”

“stop apologizing so much. that’s great news, y/n,” spencer insisted, brushing a stray hair from your cheek. his hand lingered on your face for a few seconds as you shared a loving look, and you leaned forward to press your mouth to his for the first time in days. spencer watched your lips close in on his, uncertain whether or not he should be kissing you right then. you’d made it clear that your feelings for him hadn’t changed, but he was still careful of his actions for a combination of reasons. one was your head injury-- spencer knew that a mishap as simple as your teeth clashing against his a little too hard could cause you an insufferable amount of pain, and he couldn’t fathom the thought of hurting you even more. on top of that, he was paranoid. despite your constantly insisting that you knew him, and you trusted him, spencer didn’t want to push your boundaries in your current state. no matter how many times he’d pressed his mouth to yours before, this situation made everything different, and all spencer wanted was for you to be as comfortable as possible. if that meant not kissing you for a few days, he would make the sacrifice. regardless of his reservations, spencer couldn’t resist but allowing you to connect your lips to his. kissing you again was a euphoric feeling for him-- he’d grown so accustomed to kissing you out of the blue, and kissing you hello, and kissing you goodbye, and the last few days had put a twist on that tendency. now, though, spencer felt like he was melting. it felt like your first kiss all over again. by the time you pulled back from him, spencer had almost convinced himself that you were sitting on his couch, or in your bed, or maybe standing in the elevator on the way up to the bullpen before your workday began. he let his brain play into the fantasy for a few seconds before he finally opened his eyes again, and the affection in your eyes almost knocked the air out of him. “i missed you.”

“i know,” you muttered, pressing your lips against his once again. “i would apologize again, but i don’t want you to yell at me.”

spencer laughed at your taunt, his thumb brushing across your skin as he replied. “you always do that. i mean, you’re always so overly-apologetic. it’s one of the things that made me start to love you-- no matter how redundant they are, your apologies are always genuine.”

you hummed in agreement, not thinking twice before you replied. “you always say that. i don’t know why you can’t just accept my apologies. everyone knows apologizing is one of my favorite pass-times.” spencer squinted at you then, his head tilting slightly at your words. you could see the question in his eyes, and you bit back a smile as you answered it without hesitation. “spence, did you really think i could forget you? forget us?”

“you remember?” instead of responding verbally, you grinned. awe was clear on spencer’s face, but no matter how surprised he was at the news, he couldn’t help but smile with you. “since when?”

“i started remembering little things as soon as i woke up. when everyone else came in, and you guys started telling me stories, it was like somebody broke open a dam full of my memories. i still don’t remember every little detail, and the doctor says i might never remember my fight with the unsub, but a new memory is coming back to me every hour now.”

relief rushed over spencer, and he hung his head as he processed everything you’d just said. you remembered, and you were going to keep remembering. you gave him a delicate nudge when he didn’t look at you, and there were tears running down his face when he finally locked eyes with you again. he took a shaky breath, and you slid your hand into his as he spoke. as soon as his mouth was opening, his eyes were dropping back down to where your hand held his, but you allowed him to speak without any further interruption. “i was so scared, y/n. i-- i watched him hit you, and shoot you, and-- i didn’t know what was going to happen. maybe it’s selfish, but all i could think of when you were in surgery was what i’d do if you didn’t make it out. i still don’t have an answer-- i don’t think i could ever recover from losing you. and then they said you wouldn’t remember us, and it felt like i’d already lost you. i thought that i did something to deserve this, or that maybe this was finally the end of the only good thing i had. i’ve never been more petrified than i was during all of this. i never thought i would love someone like i love you-- as much as i love you. and then i thought i had watched you die, and then i thought i would just be erased from your mind forever, and i--”

“spence,” you called out gingerly. “you know none of this is your fault, right? no one could’ve kept this from happening but the unsub. and either way, we beat him. we won. he tried so hard to take me from you, to take me from everyone. and guess what? i’m right here, and so are you, and he’s rotting in a cell where he belongs.”

“and that’s how it should be. except he belongs in a cell. you don’t belong in a hospital bed.”

“hey. look at me.” spencer’s eyes met yours, searching for any ounce of comfort within them. he found serenity in your eyes, and your words brought him even more peace. “i’m in a hospital bed with you. as long as you’re with me, there’s no place i’d rather be.”

finally, spencer gave in to his urges and planted his mouth on yours again. as he kissed you, spencer found peace in your words. as much as this had hurt him, and as much as it had hurt you, it hadn’t broken you. you were still together, and the love you felt for each other was still just as powerful as it had been last week. after all the panic he had been living with for the past few days, he could finally breath easy and let his focus return to you, because there was nothing more important to him. no matter how much he wanted to remain wrapped up in your lips and the tranquility they brought him, there came a time when his lungs compelled him to pull away and breathe again. when he looked at you, he didn’t doubt for a moment that the look in his eye was mirrored by yours. “i love you, y/n.”

“i love you more, spence.”