#YOUR GIRL IS BACK WITH ANOTHER DOODLE EDIT!

[universallydestinytaco]

The Little Smiling Mermaid (Chapter 12)

…in which Pim comes out of his shell, Mipnessa is actually a total megabitch and two underwater edgelords get shmeckledorfed!

TW: Fatphobia at the end of the first paragraph and brief Transphobia at the end of the fourth paragraph, yes Mipnessa really is that much of a megabitch.

EDIT: Corrected Queen Dolores’ name, accidentally typed it as “Beatrice”

On the morning after his memorable conversation with Charlie, the sun chimed in with it’s warm rose-gold beams melting into the palace windows, waking up one particular guest who was currently at his happiest. Once the light hit his face, Pim’s eyes popped open, prompting him to spring out of bed like a frog and turn to the vanity desk, where he started doodling in his new little sketchbook. Sometime later, Chef Spitz rolled breakfast into the dining room with a smorgasbord of breakfast items to fill everyone up: toast, bacon and eggs, assorted cheeses, elderberry danishes, sweetbread made with spelt and dried fruit, and speaking of which chopped melon, apples, and pears. Everyone else followed the scrumptious aroma with their noses and immediately swarmed the dining room to dig in. Pim, who had never before indulged in a breakfast like this one, was in second-heaven! Pastries in the ocean where made with dried-out “cured” sea sponges, tropical fruits and cream-style cheese from seal milk, all in a stark contrast to the rich use of butter, flour and sugar. As Charlie grabbed a slice of sweetbread, Mipnessa made yet-another underhanded remark disguised as a compliment: “Watch out on the sweets, you’ll need to look good in your groom’s suit for our special day!” Charlie rolled his eyes as he further tuned out Mipnessa suddenly starting up a conversation about the golden pig statue back at home becoming strangely familiar in hindsight, though she claimed it was the decor of the palace. Queen Beatrice shot a subtle glare of judgment at the bride-to-be, who had started to realize that she wasn’t the good-girl she propped herself up to be.

~

While on their way back from handing over “the trident" to seal the deal Damien made, Alan was once-again internally freaking out while trying to maintain his cool exterior, remembering vividly upon how he (rightfully) flipped out at Damien for once-again throwing Pim under the bus, he realized he had just used his friend’s preferred pronouns towards Damien, who had seemed to had known Pim as Princess Pimberly and referred to her with she/her all his life. In other words: He had accidentally outed Pim in a fit of rage. Alan felt sick to his stomach with guilt, years he's striven to be a supportive and understanding and protective friend to Pim, only to fail at keeping the brave-yet-still vulnerable sea critter’s true identity under wraps from his cold, uncaring family, only to fly off the handle and spill the beans. “Alan?” Damien asked, Alan knew what exact question was coming and dreaded it, shakily replying “Yes?” while sweating bullets, the question-in-question was actually a pleasant surprise. “How come you, Glep and Graham Nelly all better-understood my own little brother better than me and the rest of the household?” Feeling a sense of relief, Alan calmed his nerves with a deep breath or two before giving a proper answer. “Well, throughout the whole time I studied the art of writing symphonies in that palace, I’d figure out right off the bat that something was up with the Royal Family, and amidst all the drama, Pim would try his best to hide from all of it…. I remember when I was having “recess” in the garden when I had noticed a weeping little Pim hiding in the kelp patches. That’s when I scuttled up to him and asked what was wrong…and at the age of four, Pim was already blaming himself for his family’s discord.” Alan’s voice cracking from trying not to choke up, “I knew it wasn’t plausible, so I did my best to remind Pim that he was worthy of being loved.” Damien’s heart broke into two upon catching wind of Pim blaming himself for all the family’s troubles at such a young age, especially considering he was old enough to pin-point where it all went wrong. “None of it was Pim’s fault, really, our family always had trouble, but it took a turn for the worse after we lost our Grandfather….it was his 102nd birthday, and it was also Pim’s second birthday where he learning how to swim and talk…Grandfather loved exploring the surface since he was young and he passed that love down to Graham and Pim…one day something terrible happened…Graham, that fool, showed up with one of those thingamabobs from the surface and it malfunctioned…but it was just an accident and he didn’t mean any harm!” Alan connected the dots, not too surprised yet could only imagine how much pain and guilt the lovable goober felt upon changing his family’s lives forever. Desperate to change the subject before he was tempted to spill more of his guts, Damien proposed they’d find Pim and tell him the good news.

~

After Pim had finally shown his batch of doodles to everyone in the palace, all of which where comics of Chef Spitz and a familiar-looking lobster boxing each other, Queen Dolores and Mr. Boss on a romantic gondola ride (he assumed they where a couple and yes, you could say it was ship art), an exaggerated caricature of Duke Eustace with a grim scowl on his face and lastly, a portrait of Pim displaying his name with a note indicating he went by all pronouns as a personal stepping-stone. Pim's artwork overall became a hit amongst the residents of the palace (Eustace assumed that last one was a non-ironic portrait and was flattered), especially Charlie. “Pim, ey? I like that name, it’s pretty cute.” Pim bashfully smiled while gesturing a “heart” with his two stubby hands as a way of saying “Thank you”. Pim was especially relieved with how so far, nobody openly opposed to him kind-of coming out. He felt liberated how the Queen, Dj Spitz, Smormu and Charlie shown their support of him being authentic to himself by referring to him as a mix of she/her, they/them and especially he/him pronouns when talking about him.

…

While Pim was thinking of what else to draw, he blissfully waltzed around the palace halls for inspiration until he came across Mipnessa trying on an unfinished prototype of her wedding dress that Smormu was working on with the needle-and-thread in hand; While sewing silk flowers into the first layer of the skirt and simultaneously chit-cahhtering, Smormu accidentally poked Mipnessa’s leg with the sharp pinprick. “Ow!” Mipnessa cried, snapping: “Watch it with that damn needle, you lowly klutz!” “I’m so sorry, your majesty!” Smormu responded in panic, Mipnessa responded while regaining her composure: “No matter, you may resume your tailoring, dear servant girl.” Pim shook his head in disgust, getting sick and tired of her passive-aggressive attitude…and that’s when the candlewick in Pim’s head was lit! Later that afternoon when Queen Dolores, Mipnessa, Eustace were conversing about kingdom affairs, they came across Pim and Charlie snickering at that silly little sketchbook again. Eustace demanded to know what was so darn funny and not without some hesitation, Pim shown Eustace and Mipnessa his latest masterpiece: a topical satire of Mipnessa with a large mouth with a speech-bubble censored with wingdings and a tiny Smormu apologizing for poking her leg with the needle. The Queen couldn’t help but giggle a little until Mipnessa put on the crocodile tears, blubbering: “How could you show my future husband a drawing of me in such an unflattering light!” as she clutched to Charlie, who froze in an embarrassed state. Eustace glared at Pim and scolded: “Now look what you’ve done, foolish girl, you made Mipnessa upset. I ought to have the Queen banish you back to the shipwreck you spawned from.” Pim stood there with his face beat red, bowing his head in shame…to everyone’s surprise, Queen Dolores spoke up: “Now Son, if there’s anyone to be cross with, it’s yours truly for suggesting the prompt to begin with.”, clearly covering for Pim. Eustace and Mipnessa where absolutely floored by the statement, and a few seconds after, the former bowed to Pim like a gentleman in an apologetic gesture before as Mipnessa muttered some vague insult only Pim caught, something among the lines of “That grey swollen cow and her mixed-up, muddled she/it.” That insult backfired as Pim actually took a liking to being referred to as “it”, even figuring he could go by just “he/they/it” with the partial intention being just to spite her.

…

While sitting on a rock by the sea, Pim worked on one last drawing for the day: a portrait of Charlie. Emerging from the waves to his surprise and delight was his two old pals, Alan and Glep! And much to his dismay, Damien, whom he scowled at while folding his arms. “D-don’t look at me like that! Do you have any idea what hoops I had to jump through to extend the deal?!” Pim raised in eyebrow, once he allowed Damien to explain further, his jaw dropped at the idea of Damien of all merpeople going out of his way to become a criminal in their own kingdom just to save him from turning into foam upon the sea! “He felt awful about the way he treated you, and he’s all-for you and Charlie getting together.” Glep nodded in agreement. Damien hugged Pim one more time before swimming away, signing off with a bittersweet: “Good luck with your happy ending, Pim.” As Damien swam away to face his consequences, Alan and Glep stayed behind with the intent on supporting their friend however they could. Charlie cried out from far-away: “Hey Pim! The boys came over, y’wanna hang out with us?” Pim gave Alan and Glep each a “see you later” in the form of a kiss and ran to the dock where Charlie and the sailors could be seen casually chattering away. Alan cried: “Wait! Lemme just- hold on! Dammit.” Glep patted Alan on the back, gesturing him Pim was gonna be just fine.

~

Grim gleefully cackled as he held the (fake) triton in his hand, declaring he was already eager to take over Meeplantica now that the old sea King was frozen in a block of ice, but first he wanted to test it out like a misbehaved child who got their hands on their noble parents’ armory cabinet. “Gnarly, check this bad boy out!” “Keep it down, I’m trying to watch my stories.” responded a distracted Gnarly, who was avidly-watching the crystal ball, way more amused with watching the kingdom’s reaction to the fallout of Damien’s “betrayal” unfold. “Hey Gnarly, how about you place a coconut on your head while I aim for it?” jested Grim; Gnarly rolled his eyes while cracking wise: “While I’m at it, I might as well paint a big ol’ bullseye on my ass!” Grim took some old rusty scrap metal and aimed with the trident, manifesting the idea of transforming it into gold, only for the scrap-of-scrap to turn into a pile of sand. Grim sheepishly stood there wondering if the trident was too powerful for him to master yet, as Gnarly took an obvious swipe at his boss: “Well, whaddya know: you’re the All-Mighty Sand Witch of the Abyss!” Grim responded to his henchman cutting up at his own low-hanging fruit by aiming the trident at him, laying down the law, menacingly singing: “Oooh there once was a sandmaaaan~” Gnarly cowed, vowing not to vex him with more bad puns at his expense. “Perhaps one of my spell books could give me some pointers on how to use this thing…”

~

In a scenario one would deem as some twisted karmic irony, Damien hid himself away in a deep cavern far away from Meeplantica so nobody could ever find him. The ex-Prince hastily hid the trident under a bed of moss he himself laid upon to rest while using his cloak as a blanket. Never before had Damien felt so alone, he knew deep-down in his wounded heart that the universe was ultimately going to catch up on him for his poor choices for a long time now, going all the way back when he was just a little boy and how he felt his piano solo he performed for his grandfather felt like an inadequate bore compared to that bizarre-yet-badass-looking gadget from the surface of which Graham Nelly discovered and brought as a gift. When the previous King and his grandnephew where still trying to figure out how it worked, that was when Damien decided to prove his worth as a grandson in his own eyes by figuring it out for them! Alas, the gizmo in-question was what land-creatures called a harpoon gun, and contrary to the innocent merfolk’s belief: it certainly wasn’t used for combat like they theorized, it was for hunting whales…. and poor, naive, clumsy Damien figured out far-too-late how his plan gone horribly right when he accidentally slain the old Sea King while testing the gadget. The empathetic Graham certainly took one for the team that day when he whole-heartedly took the blame for it at the cost of being disowned by the Royal Family to the point of persona-non-grata. However, since Pim was spared from witnessing the gruesome tragedy, this extreme exile did not stop him from fondly remembering Graham Nelly and because of his family’s weak communication skills, the little mercritter could never figure out why everyone else pretended that his cousin didn’t exist since nobody wanted to bring the tragedy up. The more his mind expounded upon the unpleasant memories, Damien further reflected on how his immature jealousy amplified the already-festering problems within the Royal Family, hammering it home just how so much heartache and drama would have been prevented had he just not tried to show off. Finally accepting the path paved with his actions, Damien finally let all that repressed guilt out as his broken sobs echoed throughout the cavern like some sort of sick mockery of his downfall, ultimately resulting in an hours-long affair consisting of the disgraced Prince crying himself to sleep.

Chapter 13 will be coming later this April, in the meantime, I’ll be taking a small hiatus because of some stuff IRL I gotta work out on, I will squeeze in a sneak preview of the next chapter (which will have a musical number this time) later this week! Thank you for your support as always!✨

[bechaerriezlvr]

flash!

inspired by teamies’ illumination and samidare and ofc another poetry prompt xoxo 💋💋

i missed out on ditto era so i’m basking in it a season too late

i tried to make it ot9 but you can tell who i bias LMAO. this is the first time i’ve ever written in second(?) person. i got carried away with this i fear

warnings (?): angst, rambling, death, SAD SAD SAD, suicidal, suggestive, cursing, this is super all over the place. so i might take this down and edit this. i don’t know where i was going…. this is so unusually dramatic i feel like i should’ve made it a bigger deal idk. can you tell im a “spur in the moment” writer?

I NEVER WRITE ONESHOTS HELP ME

word count: 3.0k

OK LETS START

in english we say: everywhere i look, i see you.

in my head i say: i see you in the aisles i pass by in the book store. i find you in the crumpled photos that used to be pinned in my middle school locker. i hear your voice in the words of the novels i read. i imagine your laughter when i crack open a carbonated drink by the train station on a humid summer day. i see you when the cherry blossoms begin to fall in the spring. but is it all in my memories or just my imagination?

you’ve been living in you small-ish town for years. although you spent your first couple years in a different place, you managed to make this one feel like home. despite being a quiet soul, people know you by name due to your bright smiles or kind demeanor. you were always labeled to be hardworking and smart. although you sported some cons, like sucking at physical ed, (which everyone does, they just make you feel like an asshole for not being an athlete) you still had your own little fun facts that made you unique. but entering middle school became hell. friends you created during childhood drifted away, girls became obsessed with being popular, and boys did nothing smart while making you feel stupid. it felt like you wanted a hole to swallow you up and bring you somewhere else, wherever that may be.

as years passed by and seasons went, the air of your now hometown became suffocating. some would call it seasonal depression, but is it seasonal if it lingers? you’d lie in your bed with your earbuds disregarded next to your ears with volume loud enough you could still hear the music. skies would be grey while your body would ache. you weren’t sure if it was the toll of being “smart” or being lazy, as your mother would say. this feeling had never left your body. maybe it came with growing up or just being a girl (🎀)

every now and then while doing a simple activity you couldn’t help but wonder if people would notice your if your presence was gone. chopping vegetables? you have a knife, cut- no. cleaning the railing? jump- no. soaking in a bath? drow- no. intrusive thoughts entered your brain exponentially. but luckily, you were hoping to change that.

as the birds chirp in the sky and the sun blares through the windows, you lay your head down on the cold desk. the classroom is close to empty as people spend time running the track or soaking in the sun amidst the month of may. the wind from the open window brushes past your back, sweeping through the wrinkles of your uniform. you feel a cold drink press against your neck as you jolt from the condensation dripping down your back. he sits there behind you with his head thrown back in laughter.

“i thought you would’ve heard my footsteps since you always complain how loud they are.”

“you’re not prominent enough for me to pay attention to, ej,” you say, sticking your tongue out.

his wild laughter calms to a soft, toothy smile. he twists open the lid of the pocari sweat, knowing you can never open it yourself. maybe you’re getting ahead of yourself from the sweat that coats his forearms, but something about ej had sparked your eye that day. from his gentlemanly actions to this shy playful nature, it’d be a lie to say you weren’t attracted to him. you take the drink and thank him silently as he watches you doodle on the bottle while taking sips of the drink.

“are you coming after school?” he questions. “we can get food.”

you were always hard to convince when it comes to after school hangouts. your head was buried in the academic team and the endless studies that you’d put off till 9 pm even though you cancelled to be “productive.” every time you’d promise the boys that you’d hang out next time, but it was never fulfilled. at the times you would meet, your mind would clear but the heaviness of your commitments and assignments would proceed to pile on your shoulders, giving you invisible weight that you didn’t know if you could bare with it any longer.

“maybe,” you reply.

“oh come on, it’s near the end of the school year, talk might move, nicho’s going to another school, k’s gonna be graduating. who knows when you’d hang out again.”

“we’re gonna see k after he graduates, he’s still staying near by, you know the city isn’t too far. besides, he can cry about it.” you snicker. “and we still have time with everyone else, juju.”

“wow, you’re such a buzzkill.” he rolls his eyes.

“oh, but you love it.”

*..+__🖇️__* ⋆.˚⟡ ˖° 🫧** . ۫ ꣑ৎ . 🪽__**+..🥽⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

you ended up giving in. your glasses and flipped notebooks were abandoned on your desk at home as you grabbed your phone and your tiny backpack and flew out the house, slamming the front door shut. your loosely tied converse threatened to slip off your feet as you biked the basketball court next to the town square. the poorly typed message you sent informing the group chat you were coming left your inbox blowing up in seconds.

“i’m here!” you huff, out of breath with sweat trickling down your temple. you’re enveloped in a back hug as maki’s scent blankets your senses. your hand is over his as he keeps his arms resting on your shoulders.

“about damn time, i can’t believe we actually still expect you to come.” he laughs.

“you’re making me sweat, maki,” you complain, swatting him away playfully while he presses closer out of spite.

fuma throws you a wave from the benches with his button down slung around his neck, leaving him in his white tank. nicholas and k are too engrossed in the game; the basketball thumping against the green court. harua puts a hand above his eyes to shade the sun before calling your name, beckoning you over. you speed walk over, avoiding the ball and jump by the rest of them, sitting on the bleachers. jo silently cheers the other members on as he eats the lunch he never finishes. yuma lies next to harua yelling at taki to quit distracting him from the game.

nicho calls your name. “this one’s for you watch! watch!” he throws the ball, his shirt lifting slightly as he jumps, making it in the basket. you can hear k cheer as nicholas dances in victory and ej claps his hands in amusement. they all circle around near the benches and the bleachers for a break. you lean your head against maki’s shoulder as he sits behind you.

“i thought i was making you sweat?” he teases.

“shut up.” you retort. in retrospect, you’d say you were closest to ej, but that would only apply because you shared classes. you were evidently closer to maki due to the brainrot you shared as he mindlessly scrolled through the internet as you studied next to him your freshman year. you never got the chance to get close with them the same way you were with certain members of the group but you knew that you all loved each other. you can’t truly recall when this friend group started. maybe it was when you ran into fuma on the first day of school like a cliché romance novel. or when nicholas would whisper in your ear for answers during tests. or maybe even when yuma approached you every gym class to make sure you weren’t alone. they were always a clique of their own; popular amongst girls in the school. despite all the talk, they never made themselves involved in romance. it was indeed unusual that you joined but they never made you feel like you didn’t belong. as you pondered deeply, nicholas could see your eyes wander into space, looking into the distance.

he finished his last sip of water before saying, “do you remember that one time when we were on omegle when we had a field trip to jeju island?” he laughs comically.

“oh my god, we got yelled at the administrator for being so loud!” maki adds.

“hey, it didn’t help when k and rua were making ramen, the smoke alarm almost went off!”

“wow, ok, you guys can’t say anything when you screamed at a guy showing his dick on video!!” harua yells, pointing a finger

“you guys didn’t even skip, fuma had to do it for you!” i say.

“i still have the photo!!” yuma laughs.

“wait, i wanna see,” taki pokes yuma by his sides. k shakes his head disapprovingly.

“oh, does someone still have the group photo?” jo says. ej shuffles in his bag before finding the crumpled polaroid of the ten of you, sat in a circle around the ramen with the computer screen in the back blaring white.

“omg, isn’t that kai?” fuma points out, looking at you.

“the guy that you liked??” k says, wiggling his eyebrows i your direction. your face flushes.

“okay, can we shut up?? im pretty sure he thinks i’m weird anyways.”

“that’s such a lie,” ej mutters. “there’s nothing wrong with being weird.”

“hey you snuck into our dorm that night because you wanted to see him, stalker!” fuma teases. you shake your head as a smile cracks on your face. a flash appears in front of your face as taki giggles with the camera in front of him.

“hey! take that back!” you scream, running after taki

*..+__🖇️__* ⋆.˚⟡ ˖° 🫧** . ۫ ꣑ৎ . 🪽__**+..🥽⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

night comes faster than you expect, fireflies begin to come out in the field. the boys have discarded discomfort of their school jackets and run across the field as you sit in the grass. the feeling of fireflies crawling on your skin creeps you out a little, but the cool air kisses your arms and brushes your baby hairs.

“what’s wrong?” k whispers, taking a seat next to you.

“nothing,” you fib, biting your lip.

“liar,” he pulls the lip between your teeth with his pointer finger to stop your hurting habits.

“truly, it’s nothing. i just.. i don’t know.”

“you don’t have to know, just voice it out, i’ll listen.”

“i don’t want all of this to be over.” it was like a light bulb clicked in your head. with them, your thoughts were no longer flooded with sadness or pain or heaving commitments. instead, you felt the love you lacked. always claiming to be fine, they’d know you were lying through your teeth. you appreciated them for distracting you but they appreciated you for caring for them like a mother when you couldn’t even do it for yourself.

“why, you gonna miss me?” he jokes. before you could reply he circles an arm around you, knowing that whatever you’d say, the realization of everyone leaving is sinking in. you’d miss him. all of them. all of this.

nicholas offers a ride home, but you decline, not wanting to leave your bike behind. they all hug you goodbye and goodnight, joking about how they might never hang out with you again. you scoff playfully before hopping on your bike.

the night air is crisp and your legs begin to burn from the ride. you’re still in their sight as you leave. wind cards through your hair as you listen to the rhythm of your heartbeat. laughter and memories echos in your mind. maybe for the first time in years you feel fulfillment and happiness. your breath curls in the wind as the street lights flicker. little droplets of rain begin to come down from the dark sky. the rain begins to pick up, your tires sliding against the wet pavement. you look down for a moment, hearing the slight hiss of your tire before catching a bright glow in the corner of your eye and a large roar of an engine. your head snaps up. everything is too close, too fast. your bike’s mechanics fail on you. the headlights get brighter as you fail to break or bike away. before you know it, your limbs feel heavy. everything is burning hot. you’re unfamiliar with the feeling but it heaves down on you, crushing you. you lay there as the pocari sweat bottle from your bag rolls away on the road, collecting dirt in the crevices before popping open near your weak hand. maybe ej would be proud you opened it yourself this time. thoughts ran through your head as the tinnitus worsened along with the blur in your eyes. you were no longer sure if you were crying or if it was just the impact of your head hitting the pavement. you also weren’t sure if you felt pain or numbness. but you did know that the voices of people panicking lightened. a hand moves your head. your eyes meet ej’s as you make out the familiar faces beside him. nicholas rips off his beanie as long bottled up tears roll down his eyes. ej caresses your face while fuma lays a hand under your head, attempting to keep you comfortable and conscious. you can’t hear it but you know the words that leaves maki’s mouth tells you to listen to him and to stay alive. he holds your hand. you can’t imagine how weird it must look to be surrounded by them. hell, you can’t even think. your breath quickens but all you inhale is the fall of the rain. flickering streetlights and cloudy skies fill your vision. you recall past summers of spending time with the group. holding hands with ej, coffee dates with maki, arcade games with yuma, movie nights with nicholas, jumping in unknown lakes with taki, board games with harua, late night snacks with jo, shopping with fuma, and late night conversations with k. all of a sudden you yearn for their eyes that sparkled like the stars at night. your voice is muffled as you mutter a name. your body jolts as those same headlights and the sounding horn run through your mind before closing your eyes, chest shuddering.

you ended up getting what you wished for, right?

*..+__🖇️__* ⋆.˚⟡ ˖° 🫧** . ۫ ꣑ৎ . 🪽__**+..🥽⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

that moment passed like a haze. rain fell heavy and the mood shifted. they hear the crash of the mechanics and a familiar silhouette discarded on the ground. the image burned in their minds. with no hesitation, k ran to you first. the scene unraveled strangely fast yet slow. disbelief knocked the wind out their bodies. it wasn’t a horror that lived in their minds, but a terror they now experienced. that night of shared laughter shifted to punches thrown out of unresolved anger and unhealable sobs rolling down their faces. taki crumpled the photo of you close to his heart, hiding from the punches they all threw. the only photo he had that captured the candid moment that now became a moment of nostalgia. nicholas blamed himself for not insisting on a ride home. ej picked up the drink by your hand, cherishing your drawings on the bottle. may had never felt the same since then. after that, the town fell silent.

k dropped out mid way his freshman year in college, unable to bear the pain of your death, recalling moments you called him family. taki refused to go back to the town after he left, somehow seeing you when the cherry blossoms fall in the spring and laughing, dancing alongside him in the dark nights of the practice rooms. nicholas visited every year, even after graduating to reminisce the rusted locker that was once yours. he’d walk down the halls remember the classrooms you stood outside of when you both got in trouble. maki stopped going to school. he no longer had the friend that would poke him awake during classes or playfully flirt when just lounging on the benches. he lost his smile knowing how you spent your last moments without one. ej spent nights away, eyes watering when he’d see a basketball court while he’s on vacation. he’d walk past the pocari sweat bottles in the grocery store, refusing to look at them as if they were challenging him for a staring contest. he had kept your last bottle on his shelf at home, carrying it with him when he’d move homes. jo skipped his meals altogether. the look of food made him feel sick. home cooked meals reminded him of you when you’d bring extra bento boxes of lunch you cooked especially for him. the board games at harua’s place grew dusty. the pieces you used were constantly clean and placed nicely on your grave, hoping that your spirit would still offer to play another round. it’d lie there amongst other things: your polaroids together, your torn out drawings from yuma’s notebook, your diy book marks with post its, your tiny backpack that you never left the house without, and your glasses (which were kept clean by ej, making sure you can see up in heaven). there was a tiny pile of other things there too, but it had piled up so much it’d have to be a list worth of 100 meaningful objects. yuma would pray to you before eating a meal or having some kind of tournament. he’d go to your house and gather all your chemistry papers and leave them neatly on your desk with tears rolling down his eyes because he knew how you felt the need to study for your classes even when there werent any tests. he’d wipe the dust off your figurines and adopt the pet you always wanted, naming it after you. he’d bring them to your home, where your parents would dust everything but leave your room arranged the way it was. fuma never had a shopping addiction but he’d buy everything that he knew you’d like. from clothes to trinkets to jewelry and shoes. he had even bought a graduation cap and gown so that you’d at least feel like you graduated with them by your side. they all fell apart, coping in their own ways, but never together.

when they said goodbye, they knew there wouldn’t be a next time to hang out; they just didn’t expect it to be in that way.

unfortunately, you were no longer there to wipe the same may rain that dampens their faces each year.

authors note: i might’ve deleted a paragraph on accident idk

[zepskies]

Miss Professor

Pairing: Jason Teague x F. Reader

(Love triangle: Jason T. x Lana Lang)

Summary: Jason has to make a decision. You, or Lana Lang.

AN: Here’s the sequel to “Assistant Hottie.” Hope you enjoy!

Song Inspo: “Look at You” by Screaming Trees

Word Count: 5,200 Tags/Warnings: Angst, love triangle, hurt/comfort, fluff and a tinge of spice.~

Jason finds you in the bowels of the university library.

Out of four giant floors of books and computer labs at Central Kansas A&M (CKM), they just had to put the Writing Center in the non-proverbial basement. There you have to wear at least two layers at all times, despite the late-spring swelter outside.

Like now, when he enters the Writing Center lobby and finds you at your desk, tapping your red pen on your lip as you work on revising an essay. Jason smiles at the sight of your fuzzy red and green sweater over your jeans and ankle boots.

“You know, Christmas came and went, like, five months ago,” he teases.

You glance up at him as he steals a chair from your coworker’s desk. She’s conveniently been on break…for two hours now. Leaving you with a mildly enormous stack of essays to edit and leave feedback on.

“Yeah well, I’m running out of winterwear. It’s almost summer, for God’s sake,” you grouse. And yet, you shiver when another pass of the AC vent above your head hits your back.

Jason smiles, but he also shrugs off his jacket and drapes it around your frame. It’s lighter than what you’re wearing, but he hopes the added layer helps. You can’t help smiling up at him, though your brows end up furrowing.

“Oh, don’t do that, you’re gonna be freezing,” you protest. You try to take off the jacket, but Jason stops you by wrapping it snugly around your shoulders.

“It’s okay, I don’t plan on being here that long,” he replies.

You raise a brow. “Oh really?”

Jason grins. “You’ve got my British Lit. paper, right?”

You narrow your eyes at him, with a light grumble. “Some friendship this is. You only come to see me when you want something.”

Jason mock frowns at that accusation, but he plies you with raised brows and waggling “gimme” fingers until you relent. You reach back into your files with a sigh and hand him his ten-page essay, complete with your revisions and suggestions for the final draft.

“Here you go, freeloader,” you quip.

“Many thanks, Miss Professor,” Jason rejoins.

The nickname always manages to make your face warm a bit, no matter how you try to stamp down the butterflies in your stomach. It doesn’t help when he smiles at you like that.

His glinting green eyes soon dim, however, as he takes in the sheer amount of red marking up the pages of his essay. All 10 pages.

“Damn, woman. Was it that bad?” he asks.

“You’re actually getting better,” you say with a smile. “I’m seeing signs of improvement.”

Jason continues to flip through with a frown. “Right.”

Though when he actually starts reading your revisions, the familiar slopes of your handwriting, his disappointment begins to relent. You’ve made corrections here and there, but you’ve also written a lot of encouragements in the margins, like, “Good use of the word ‘solidarity.’”

And, “This whole paragraph perfectly explains your point. Just add a transition into the next section and you’re golden.”

Not to mention his personal favorite: correcting his typo on eggzagerate, and drawing a doodle of a fried egg above it. He doesn’t think you do that for all your customers. 

It makes him smile.

Though he looks up when he hears you yawn. You try to stifle it, but he can see clearly now that you’re tired. It’s almost 9 p.m.

“How long have you been working?” he asks.

“Since I got out of my last class at 5,” you admit. Finally, you spot your coworker coming back from her break (and she’s still on the phone, chatting away to her boyfriend).

“Have you even eaten dinner?” Jason asks.

You shake your head, with a pointed glare at your coworker. “No time. I’ve been chained to this place all night.”

The girl gives you a fake smile when she returns to her desk and grabs one of the thinnest essays from the pile. After shooting her one last narrowed look, you give Jason your full attention. He’s trying to temper his smirk.

“Come on,” he says, nudging your arm. “Let me treat you to the Central Kansas delicacy of Chicken Finger Friday.”

You laugh at that; the university food court leaves much to be desired. You still have plenty of work to do, but you’re willing to push it off until tomorrow and take him up on his offer, if it means a hot meal and spending some time with your friend. It’s been a few weeks since it’s been just the two of you, hanging out.

After grabbing your backpack and clocking out for the night, you and Jason walk together across campus. The evening air is warm. It begins to defrost you as you two venture down the sidewalk. You smile to yourself and playfully bump into his side.

Jason shoots you a grin and bumps you back, though he grabs your arm when the heel of your boot catches on the edge of the sidewalk. You both fumble a bit and laugh.

You tuck a wily strand of hair behind your ear. Part of you wants to ask what he’s doing this weekend. Maybe he’d want to go to the lake with you, hang out on the dock, or go for a swim…

But of course, that’s when his phone buzzes. He fishes it out of his pocket and his brows raise. The text is from Lana, asking him if he can come to the Talon.

I really need your help with something.

Jason lets out a breath and looks up at you apologetically.

You know that look.

“Your girlfriend?” you ask, trying not to sound too disappointed.

Jason nods. “I hate to do this to you, but we’ve both been so busy, I haven’t seen her all week.”

And this is the first time this week that Lana has reached out to him first, wanting to see him… Well, she’s also asking for a favor, but she wants to see him.

“You know, one of these days I’d love to meet this mysterious girl,” you remark, lightly shoving his arm.

Jason smiles, but inside he’s clamming up. For obvious reasons, he hasn’t told you that he’s dating Lana Lang. Though it doesn’t make it easy to keep it from you, to lie to you. Over the course of the school year, you’ve become one of his closest friends here in Smallville.

You encourage him to explore his interests and keep focused in school, and you’ve often been a listening ear whenever juggling his classes and helping to coach the Smallville High football team stress him out.

And he’s done the same for you. With your time split between being a teacher's aid at Smallville High and working in the Writing Center to make ends meet between classes, you've done your share of venting, sometimes through frustrated tears. Jason's been more than willing to provide a strong shoulder to lean on.

Now, you don’t know that dating Lana is part of his stress, but he just…can’t afford to tell you.

It doesn’t matter that Lana’s 18, and he met her months before he took this coaching job. This is a small town, and he knows how people will talk if word gets out that he’s dating a high school senior. Not to mention, he’d get very fired.

“I’m sorry,” he says to you. “This seems important.”

Again, you have to hide your disappointment when you smile at him. “It’s okay. I should probably get back to work anyway—”

“Uh-uh. No,” Jason says, grabbing your arm when you start to turn in the direction of the Writing Center. "You’re done for the night. I wanna see you marching full-speed for those dry-ass chicken tenders.”

He nods toward the campus food court, making you expel a sigh.

“If I must,” you lament.

“And you’d better not keep working on your laptop,” he warns. “If you so much as crack open that Mac, I’ll know.”

He levels a finger at you as he walks away. You roll your eyes and head to the food court, with the promise of food just beyond the glass doors. 

After a moment, you chance looking back at Jason. He catches your gaze, and he points two fingers from his eyes to your face in stern warning. 

You giggle and shake your head at him, but you keep walking toward the food court. 

Jason smirks in satisfaction. He continues on to the parking lot, and to his car.

When Jason gets to the Talon, he crosses paths with Clark, who’s just walking out. 

“Hey, man,” Jason greets, with a jovial pat on the younger man’s shoulder. Though he can’t help but wonder why the guy is here at this time of night. “Little late for a coffee fix, huh?”

“Hey, Coach T,” Clark smiles. “Could say the same about you.”

Jason blinks at that. He cards a hand through his short hair and laughs it off. “Yeah, I was in the mood for a slice of your mom’s coffee cake. Any left?”

Martha Kent supplied the Talon with its baked goods, and they were most certainly worth driving across town for. It’s a pretty good excuse, if he says so himself.

Clark nods. “Yeah, should be.”

“All right. G'night,” Jason says. Clark nods and waves goodbye before he heads to his red truck in the parking lot. 

Jason shakes his head and steps into the coffee shop, where he finds Lana alone. She’s cleaning up a large takeout bag from Gino’s, the Italian restaurant across the street. He silently takes note of it, but doesn’t yet comment when he kisses his girlfriend in greeting.

“Why’d you send up the Bat Signal on this fine Friday night?” he asks, wrapping her in his arms.

Lana smiles up at him. “Well, I’m probably going to be slammed all weekend with the shop, but I’ve got this huge speech for class on Monday and was hoping you’d help me practice.”

She pulls those doe-like hazel eyes on him, and Jason’s almost captured by them. This time, he lets out a small sigh.

“You know I’m always down to help you out. Always. But you know, we haven’t just hung out in a while now,” he points out.

Lana concedes to that with an incline of her head, but she still eases out of his arms to finish cleaning up.

“Yeah, I’ve just been really busy,” she says.

“I have too,” Jason replies. “But even with my crazy schedule, going back and forth from campus, don't I still make time for you?”

Case in point, he was willing to come out to her on the drop of a hat, late at night, and on the crunch week before his final exams. But he would be hard-pressed to remember a time when Lana went out of her way to see him.

Lana pauses, casting him a frown. "I'm trying my best, Jason. You know I'm graduating in a few weeks. Everything's ramped up to 11 this year."

Yeah, I know the feeling, Jason thinks, but after a moment, he caves with a nod, even though his gaze lingers on the Gino's bag.

“Have you eaten?” he tests. “Let me get us some takeout.”

He almost said, Let me take you out, somewhere nice. But he hadn’t been able to do that since before he got to Smallville. He’s beginning to wonder if he ever will again.

“Oh,” Lana says. Her eyes avert from his as she wipes down a table. “I already ate.”

Jason draws closer to her and dips his chin in order to catch her gaze. Eventually, she pauses and glances up at him.

“With Clark?” he asks.

Lana tightens up, just as he predicted. “Why would you say that?”

“I saw him when I came in,” Jason replies. He tilts his head at Lana, who never used to be a good liar. But ever since they had to start hiding their relationship, he’s noticed how good she also hides her thoughts and feelings around other people…maybe even to herself.

“Yeah,” she breathes. “He was here. But we were studying for finals, and we got hungry. That’s it.”

Jason shakes his head, but she grabs his hand with both of hers. He looks down at her tan, slender hands, and can’t help but be drawn back to her beautiful face.

“It’s not a big deal,” she says, as if that can dismiss the churning in his gut.

“Listen,” he says, rubbing at his face. “I know I’ve asked you this before, and I’m sorry but…do you still have feelings for him?”

“No,” she refutes, “I’m with you, Jason. How many times do I have to prove that this is what I want?”

She seems so annoyed and vehement that Jason has to believe her. He wants to, so badly.

Maybe too much.

The last straw comes just two weeks before the end of spring semester—with the coming of senior prom. Jason knows he can’t ask Lana, but she assured him that she wasn’t going. 

He has a late class that night, but afterwards, he promised to pick her up and get dinner together in Metropolis. A nice date, a long-ass way out of town, so they’re unlikely to be recognized.

On the Friday evening, just hours before a high school dance, you and Jason sit together in the one class you have together: Introduction to Mass Media. 

It only meets once a week, for three hours. Technically it’s an elective for both of you, but you’d told Jason to pick any class outside of his major that he was interested in. Anything to broaden his horizons, and you promised to join him. For some reason, he chose this one. 

He thought it would be easy. Just a study of pop. culture stuff, with a mix of social media, maybe a dash of sports, if he was lucky. He’d actually been surprised with how much he was enjoying the segments on videography and broadcast journalism. 

Right now, however, he's distracted. You can certainly tell, the way he keeps checking his phone.

“What’s wrong?” you lean over and ask in a whisper. He knows how anal Professor Jones is about cell phones in class. The man had a “contraband bucket” to collect them in, if he caught a student using one.

“Just letting my girlfriend know I’m gonna be a bit late,” Jason grumbles, though he’s looking at the screen. “Jones is droning on past the eternity mark, as usual.”

A man clears his throat above you and Jason. You both look up and meet the flat gaze of Professor Jones. He shakes the bucket in his hand with an arched brow. Already there's about three contraband phones inside.

Jason gives a wan smile. “Come on, Professor. We were supposed to be outta here 20 minutes ago anyway.”

The lines in Professor Jones’s face betrays one simple truth: he doesn’t give a shit.

“Bucket, Mr. Teague,” he says.

Jason’s lips press in irritation, but he’s forced to drop his phone into the waiting bucket. He doesn’t see two mixed text messages from his girlfriend.

You lay a comforting hand on Jason’s arm. “I’m sure she’ll understand.”

By the time Jason gets to the Talon, the lights are dark and Lana’s not home. Suspicion creeps in, making him feel a little crazy. 

He decides to get back into his car and drive down to Smallville High. There the gym is decked out to the nines in some kind of underwater theme. It reminds him of his own senior prom a couple of years ago, complete with the punch bowl and cheesy snacks. 

But soon enough, the nostalgia comes to a screeching halt.

A familiar ballad croons from the band on the stage.

"And how can I stand here with you, and not be moved by you? ...Would you tell me how could it be any better than this?"

He sees Lana on the dance floor, wearing one of the most beautiful dresses he’s ever seen. And she’s in the arms of one Clark Kent. 

Jason's never hated Lifehouse so much.

On Saturday morning, before the Talon even opens, Lana opens the door to Jason while still wearing her robe.

“Hey!” she says, with wide eyes, though she lets him in.

“You seem real surprised,” Jason notes.

“Yeah, I mean, it’s early for you on a Saturday,” Lana remarks with a short laugh. But she still leans up to kiss him. She only manages to get his cheek, since he doesn’t bend down to meet her like he usually would.

She frowns. “Is something wrong?”

Jason doesn’t answer at first. The words are stuck in his throat. He gestures for them to move away from the glass doors, where anyone can peek in. So they travel up to her bedroom and close the door.

It’s not the first time he’s been in her room, though not much has ever happened on her bed. He’s waited completely on her signals for that one. Though now, he’s actually kind of grateful that their relationship has never progressed that far. It makes what he’s about to do easier.

“Where were you last night?” he asks. He figures they’d better start there.

“I tried calling you,” he adds, when Lana doesn’t immediately offer a reply.

“Well, I didn’t hear from you. I figured you were busy with your classes, so…I went to prom by myself,” she says.

Jason sighs. “You didn’t seem all that lonely.”

Her eyes widen. “What?”

Her confusion looks so real. A perfect face, and a damn near perfect lie.

“Look, I saw you and Clark on that dance floor,” Jason finally says. “Wasn't that just the perfect Hallmark moment?”

“Jason…” Lana finally starts to break. She doesn’t want to admit what’s broken, her gaze falling to the floor.

“No, let me say this,” he says. “Lana, I really put my all into this. I did whatever I could to be with you. To love you, to protect you. But in your heart, I think somewhere down the line you decided you don’t want that to be me.”

Lana’s eyes flood with tears, but she doesn’t deny it. 

“I think it’s time to really call it quits this time,” Jason says, “for both our sakes.”

He can’t help but reach out to her. His thumb brushes her cheek. Lana’s watery gaze meets his as her lower lip wobbles. She grabs his hand.

“I’m so sorry, Jason,” she confesses.

He won’t say it’s okay, but he accepts that with a nod, and he kisses her cheek. 

It’s a goodbye that’s meant to last.

Once he’s back in the relative safety of his car, Jason lets out a deep breath. He grabs his phone from his pocket on some unspoken urge; in that moment, he needs something. Someone.

He needs you.

You answer on the third ring, sounding sleepy on your day off.

“You’d better be on fire,” you say. Jason smiles at the sound of your grumpy voice.

“Hey,” he laughs a little, though he's surprised that it comes so easily. “You doing anything right now?”

“Besides sleeping?” you toss back. “…No. Not really. My life is boring.”

“Boring sounds nice right about now,” Jason says, more seriously than he meant to. “Wanna take a drive or something?”

You hesitate, just for a moment. Then your voice greets him again.

“Let’s go.”

When Jason arrives at your house, you come out to meet him. He gets out of his car, and already he looks wrong. He looks drained of all energy.

“What’s wrong?” you ask in concern, grabbing his arm when you’re close enough. His eyes find yours.

“We broke up,” he says.

It takes your brain a second or two to compute. (You’ve just finished your first cup of coffee, after all.) But then, you’re moving to wrap your arms around his neck in the tightest, warmest hug you can give.

He holds you back for a while, and you relish in the feeling of his hands smoothing around your back and pulling you in close. His chin tucks on your shoulder, and you rub his back.

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly.

He hums in response. Sometimes, what is just is.

He lets you drive him out to the lake near your house, in your beat up Volvo. This lake is your favorite place in the world, you tell him, as you two sit side-by-side on the dock. Your sneaker-clad feet dangle over the edge, next to his longer legs.

“So far,” he corrects. “There’s a whole lot of world out there.”

You smile. “Yeah, you gonna show me? Got a magic carpet tucked in your dorm somewhere?”

Jason laughs, and you’re grateful to see his smile so soon.

“Yeah, along with a dusty-ass lamp,” he says.

You smile, but you tilt your head at him. “Are you okay?”

Jason’s grin slips a little. “Yeah, I think so…is that bad?”

You bite your lip. “Depends. What was her name? I don’t think you even told me.”

Jason turns to you, and he sighs deeply. It takes him a moment, but he eventually answers while looking you in the eyes.

“Lana Lang,” he says.

The name rings a bell…and as it comes to you, it blares like a foghorn. Your eyes widen and your mouth falls open in shock.

“J-Jason…she’s a student,” you stammer. “Not like, us students. Like—”

“I know. We met before I got the coaching job,” Jason explains quickly, before you can blow up at him. 

He can see you’re freaking out, trying to contain your reaction with a hand over your mouth. But the more he explains, the more you withdraw into a simmering silence. He can tell, however, that you don’t know how to feel about it. 

“Do you regret it?” you ask.

It’s not the first thing he thought you would say, but it’s very you all the same.

“Well, being outmaneuvered by my own quarterback stings like a bitch, but I still think I’m better looking,” Jason jokes. Because that’s what he does when he’s uncomfortable.

Too bad that was the wrong answer.

You roll your eyes with a disgusted huff, and you pull yourself up onto your feet. You start to leave him there at the dock, but Jason hops up as well and grabs your hand.

“Hey, wait,” he implores. “Look, I’m sorry. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. It was just…easier.”

“Why, because you didn’t trust me?” you challenge. “Or because you felt guilty about what you were doing?”

The truth is, Jason doesn’t feel guilty. Not for his relationship.

“I was trying to protect her reputation,” he says. “I know how smalltown people think. She’d be the talk of the damn town. And for what? Because we’re two years apart?”

“And I’m smalltown, is that it? I’m sorry I’m not as evolved as you, Mr. Metropolis,” you snark. “Forgive me for being a lowly country bumpkin with some morals.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Jason says with an angry frown, throwing up his hands in frustration.

You shake your head at him and start booking it towards your car.

Jason follows. “You know you can’t leave me out here, right?”

“Just get in the car, before I change my mind!”

He obliges you, and it’s a painful ride back to your house. He really can’t believe you’re being like this. It’s the first real argument he’s ever had with you. He knew you might get upset, but he did think you’d be a little more understanding…

“Look, we met in Paris last summer,” he admits. And a hint more vulnerable, “I just…couldn’t help but fall for her.”

“I get it, Jason,” you reply. Your voice is flat. 

“Just please don’t tell anyone,” he asks. “We’re done. She’s about to graduate.”

As mad as you are at him for lying to you, you begrudgingly see his point. You can also start to understand why he didn’t tell you. 

But, regardless of how you feel, you don’t want him to lose his job. You know it’s the only way he can afford college.

“I wouldn’t do that to you,” you say, before you can reign yourself in.

Jason turns to you with a hint of a smile. “Thank you.”

It’s still awkward when you two get to your house. He turns to you, like he wants to say something that’ll most likely soften you. 

You’re not ready for that. 

So you kill the engine and get out of the car without looking at him. Jason takes the hint; he doesn’t say another word to you when he gets into his car and peels away.

The next weeks that follow are hard for Jason. As a member of the staff, he’s forced to go to Smallville High’s graduating ceremony.

He watches Clark and Lana graduate together with the rest of their friends. The two of them hug after she gets off stage, looking at one another with a moment of blushing smiles. It’s an inevitable look.

It makes Jason feel sick. He leaves as soon as he can, going back to languish in his dorm room. He lays on his bed over the covers with his hands folded over his stomach and his eyes closed.

He thinks about you. 

He can see you in his mind’s eye, with a pen balanced between your teeth and your hair falling over to brush the pages you pour over.

He sees your fuzzy green sweater. Your smile. The shade of your hair, your eyes, your laugh, your furrowed look when you’re concentrating hard on revising a sentence.

The more he sees, the more he wants to call you. To hear your voice, even if you're just going to yell at him. 

Jason sighs. He sits up in bed and has a thought that soon takes hold of his body, and has him swinging his legs over the edge of his bed and pulling his backpack closer.

He pulls out a folder for one of his classes and finds an essay you revised. His eyes scan over the encouragements you’ve left in the margins, along with the stray doodles. They still make him smile.

And it reminds him of the first note you ever gave him, which he keeps tucked in a small drawer in his desk. He tosses the folder onto his bed and goes to that drawer, where he finds your hastily written haiku.

Assistant Hottie

You flatter me, see through me

Smarter than he thinks.

You don’t know that those words have kept his head above water in times where he’s wanted to quit school.

Or even worse, in those times when he’s wanted to go to his father, tail between his legs, to ask for money and a job doing anything easy.

So now, Jason realizes that he needs to make another decision.

He gets out of bed, and he goes to see you.

Jason travels down to the basement of the CKM library, to the Writing Center, where you’re sitting at your desk as always on a Thursday night. You have a pile of essays stacked high next to you, and your forehead is wrinkled while you read a problematic passage.

The smell of coffee makes you look up first, before you realize who brought it. Your eyes widen at seeing Jason, along with his small smile and peace offering.

“Hey,” he says.

His voice washes over you, his eyes that always manage to disarm you, even now.

Despite your better judgment, you take the coffee from him and revel at its warmth. It has to be 60 degrees in this damn room (you’re one step shy of bringing your winter gloves next time).

You sip at the coffee and hum in delight at the taste of caramel and cinnamon—a combination that only your family, and Jason, would know you loved.

Your gaze flits up to his, more begrudging as you sigh.

��What can I do for you, Mr. Teague?” you ask.

Jason grins and takes your coworker’s empty chair to sit across from you.

“I’ve got a little haiku for you,” he says, handing you a folded piece of paper. You eye him in confusion, but you set down the coffee on your desk and take his second offering. You unfold it and read something that genuinely takes you by surprise.

Hey, Miss Professor

I’ve got a question for you…

Want to get dinner?

You can’t help but laugh. It’s most definitely not a haiku, but you also know that it’s his best shot. His smile is sheepish, making yours deepen. 

“So, what’s your answer?” he asks. 

You glance down at the page, then back at him. You bite your lip, and your heart clenches. Is this it? you wonder. Is he asking you out, for real? You can’t quite tell what he’s thinking. 

“What kind of dinner?” you ask.

Jason’s grin fades. “What do you mean?”

“Is this our normal kind, where we roll out like we’re Thelma and Louise?” you ask, making him snort. “Or is this the kind where I need to change out of my dirty sneakers and brush my hair?”

He shrugs; his amused grin is back. “I mean, however I get you is all right by me.”

You nearly utter another sigh, but Jason surprises you yet again—by grabbing your hand. 

“But, uh…I’d like this to be the kind of dinner where we try something new,” he says, licking his dry lips. He looks a bit uncertain, you think, hiding the fear of rejection. “Maybe you’ll let me do my Cary Grant impression and get you some flowers. Box of chocolates.”

The corner of your mouth twitches. “Chocolates?”

“Whatever it takes,” he says. His tone is joking, but he seems serious. You know him well enough by now to spot the difference.

“Whatever it takes, huh?” you ask.

Jason’s hand tightens on yours, but his eyes never leave you. He really is serious, and it makes your heart stutter and trill with warmth. It feels a lot like hope.

He leans in, his head bowing towards yours…but you lay a hand against his chest.

It stops him, until your fingers curl into his shirt.

Your gaze slowly meets his.

When he reaches for your cheek, this time you let him pull you in. 

His kiss is sudden, but it’s still a gentle test. You take in a deep breath through your nose as your eyes fall closed. You press your lips against his, answering him. His fingers slide into your hair and drag down the back of your neck. It makes you shudder and tug him even closer by his shirt. 

Jason’s solution is gathering you into his lap, where you take his face with both hands and kiss him with unfettered passion. The locked doors of your heart are swinging open, and it’s a sweet relief to be honest with each swipe of your tongue against his. 

He’s gripping your hip, his fingers pressing into your thigh, while the other hand supports your lower back and presses you flush against him. As the kiss slows, so does your hand in his hair, more soothing now than gripping. 

When your lips eventually draw apart from his, it’s with panting breaths. You stare into his eyes, as yours brim with relieved tears. You touch his cheek.

“I better not be a rebound,” you warn him. “I can’t take that, Jase.”

Jason shakes his head, holding you a fraction tighter. “No, believe me. That's the last thing you are."

You bite your lip, and he encourages you to release it with his thumb brushing across your lower lip. You've been on his mind longer than he can readily admit. Since the first day he met you.

"I know I haven't made it easy, but will you trust me on this?” he asks. "I really wanna do this right with you."

It takes you a moment to decide, but you do. You trust him.

So you nod and brush your fingers along the apple of his cheek. 

“Okay,” you concede. "Let's do this."

Jason grins. “Oh, thank God.”

You giggle softly and hide your face in his neck. His chest shakes with a chuckle as he holds you back. It feels very right to hold you, he thinks.

Just as it's a relief for you to finally be in his arms.

“Where d’you wanna go for dinner?” he asks.

You laugh, a bit giddy as you cling to him and thread your fingers in his golden hair.  

“I don’t give a damn.”

AN: Haha, I hope you liked this! ❤️ These one-shots are kind of AU, in that I don't get into the Stones of Power arc of S4 just for simplicity's sake.

I do have one more one-shot idea rolling around in my head for these two...the reader meeting Jason's infamous mother lol (Genevieve Teague, played by the fabulous Jane Seymour)!

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[skoolnites]

𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙧𝙤

cb98 x reader

previous chapter | series masterlist | next chapter

->𝙬𝙘: 1.3kish (i edited a bit on here and tumblr won’t let me copy it back over to my drive to check word count)

->𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: just a little something to set the mood

->𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: swearing, y/n has a brother, mention of smoking weed underaged, nothing else

->𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚: this was supposed to be called burning for you babe but burning for you was really symmetrical. also hi y’all long time no see well more like i haven’t written anything in at least two years, it’s fine. masterlist coming soon with more information i just like to do things out of order :). yes i am reusing my old layout and what about it?

mid november 2023

the first time connor ever stepped into y/n’s room it wasn’t the messy floor or unmade bed or overflowing book shelf that he first noticed, no, what he saw first were the neatly stacked cds that covered her dresser. some were in cases others without, some of them were clearly factory made while some just had scribbles on them. there were so many he could barely see the old clock cd player that lived behind the stacks.

“i didn’t think people still used cds,” connor chuckled

“i mean it’s my personal favorite way to listen to music,” y/n joked heading towards one of the piles of cds without cases, “these are the originals,” she held up a couple of them with paper booklets in between each disc, on each cd was a month and either 2006 or 2007. “my dad made them with his favorite songs during each month of my first year alive, the booklets have little notes,” she carefully flipped through a few of the booklets before handing connor one of them. the pages were pretty empty just a song title, artist, a lyric written out and then a short handwritten note. it felt like something he shouldn’t be reading, something too personal.

“so your dad still makes you cds?” he asked not quite sure what to say, awkwardly handing the paper back to her. he hoped she couldn’t tell he was nervous, he was always slightly awkward but he fell apart around her. she was so new to him, like no one he’s ever met before, it had only been a week since they met and somehow she had taken over his mind.

“not anymore, burning cds is a lost art,” she was playful while reaching for another stack, “i mean i still burn my own, i’m somewhat of a playlist god, these are all mine” she started rifling through the stack, he could see that these cds had bubble letter titles written on them, he could just make out the top one, “senior year and other stupid milestones” and then the one under it which was just titled “Fuck!!!”, random sharpie scribbles covered the discs’ faces, making each one its own little work of art. the booklets were colorful and lively and filled with writing. she handed him the senior year booklet, “last year i started making a playlist per semester to fit the vibe of that semester, they’ve become my early morning soundtracks especially when my best friend, mallory, i think i’ve told you about her, and i talking shit in my car before class starts, that one’s the most recent one,”. connor idly flipped through the booklet noticing a slightly messy looking intro page and a couple strange little doodles of mushrooms and matchbooks between song pages, until landing on a spread that caught his eye due to a large and sorta creepy eyeball drawn on one side. the other page had the song:

Broken Cash Machine - Modern Baseball

“Questioning my awkward footing, mixing bitter pills with chocolate pudding”

you ever feel like the world is moving too fast? i can’t believe i have to get my shit together so soon, what happened to not growing up. what happened to that girl that walked into this high school not really knowing who she was? sometimes i get worried she wouldn’t be proud of me but then i sit down and realize i’m cool as hell. i am everything baby y/n thought she couldn’t be, i’m the girl i used to just pretend i was in my head while forcing myself to fit in. i’m proud of being a slightly (not really) edgy loudmouth loser who doesn’t hide behind her cds anymore (i get to be proud of them now). anyway i chose this line cause of jason’s party when mal tried weed for the first time and we had to run to 7-eleven to get her a chocolate bar because she had such a bad taste in her mouth afterwards. its fine she claims she’s gotten used to the taste by now. is she telling the truth? maybe. will i gladly watch her try again because it was funny as hell? most definitely.

connor chuckled a bit trying to picture what the scene must have been like, there was so much of y/n’s life that he never got to experience but he knew he wanted to experience the rest of it with her. his face twisted when she called herself an edgy loudmouth loser because while she was definitely a loudmouth, always talking or singing something under her breath, she was barely edgy and not a loser. sure she had this whole vibe about her that made her seem mysterious, but then she was passionately ranting about her math teacher in the passenger seat of connor’s car at midnight while dipping fries in an oreo mcflurry and then she wasn’t such a mystery anymore, she was just like any other 17 year old. but she wasn’t like any other 17 year old in how she treated him, she was the only person he had met who never treated him like connor bedard: hot shot hockey stud. instead she treated him like connor: some guy who geeked out on sports talk and tensed up every time she so much as playfully shoved him.

“these are mine, for my own keepsake sentimental bullshit purposes,” she said gesturing to a taller stack of cds, “these are for people. mostly works in progress but some i’m just waiting for an occasion to gift them, they’re mainly for my friends and also i made my brother a couple, there’s at least two in here that were for my freshman year crush and—,” she cut herself off, “oh this one!,” her smile somehow brightened, “this one’s for my ex, he dumped me too early to get his perfectly curated playlist,” she opened up the booklet revealing that it had now been scribbled over in black marker and obscenities. “but like seriously, this is how i talk when i can’t find the words, if i burn you a disc consider yourself special, only people who are important to me get one, sometimes it’s just a copy of one of my playlists that i think they need to hear, for example one of my five ‘i’m overwhelmed’ playlists, but custom playlists? i don’t put that much effort in for just anyone,” y/n grinned as she shoved a finger into connor’s chest pushing him slightly, it was no where near strong enough to cause him to stumble as much as he did but he did things like that whenever she touched him, “maybe one day you’ll get one too, bedard,” she was absolutely beaming at him before turning around grabbing the cd that had been sitting next to the player and placing it into the tray, the machine whirled for a second before the music started up as she walked back towards him.

it was two weeks later when he asked her out. it was all stuttery and nervous on a facetime call because he was on a roadie. he wanted to wait to do it in person but he physically could not keep it in anymore. he needed to be more with her and it was eating him alive. the confession was clumsy and he still gets embarrassed recounting how he tripped over his words but the second he was back in chicago and was greeted with the best hug he’s ever received, he knew it was worth it. after a month of dating she showed up to his apartment with a cd and booklet in hand, “things you stole from me: my hair tie, my favorite beanie and my heart (don’t worry i don’t want any of it back). connor knew he was done for when he flipped through the book. then when he told her he loved her a couple weeks later, a cd titled “you love meeeeeee” was left on his nightstand. soon there were cds for everything, he mentioned he was stressed once (“y/n’s hugs in audio form”), the holiday season (“can’t be cold when you look so hot”), their one year anniversary (“connor and y/n and the most perfect 365 days anyone could ask for”), when the summer started (“i won’t miss your morning practices”), and right before she left for college she handed him a cd called “Cst to Est” noting the time change of their newfound long distance relationship. his favorite cd was simply titled “we are such losers”, there was no reason for the playlist just that she kept hearing songs that made her think of him and also because in her words she needs to “fix his music taste”.

he really shouldn’t have been surprised when he found the cd and booklet in backseat of his car after y/n had gone back to school from winter break. the disc covered in hearts and big red letters that read:

“Burning for you babe”

[deadghosy]

“Attention Seeker”

SLYTHERIN OC X GN! GRYFFINDOR READER

Prompt: gaining the attention of the infamous Noah Drost, you must say you didn’t expect to like it in the end of it all.

Dynamic: strangers to enemies to lovers

Warning: didn’t proofread much, mistakes of writing, mentions of fighting and a small fight scene.

A/N: I’m bored so I wrote this while listening to an edit audio. It may be bad cause I never wrote for Hogwarts and might never will. WHO knows. Also inspired my Harry Potter phase and by Slytherin boy writers such as @theodorenmyth @phas3d @ahqkas and much more. (amazing writers btw!)

Noah Drost, Drost never knew to stop being a dickhead is what most Gryffindors said about the Slytherin. Always causing trouble and always setting people for failure, oddly he was an attractive lad with dashing charms. You never got the hype on why some of your girl housemates would even thirst for a "prick" like him. You never really got to know him, but the way he jokes around with others, the way his beautiful brown skin and that slit eyebrow did make it hard not to stare. But was he reallly that handsome to you? No one knows really.

What you mostly didn’t expect was to catch his attention. You didn’t need it later, and you definitely don’t need it now. He was certainly staring at you during charms class. Professor Flitwick was just yapping away in his lecture while you doodled a bit and took notes. Apparently doodling isn’t so peaceful when you keep feeling paper hit the back of your head. You turn around quickly with a sharp look only to see no one suspicious. But when you turned around, there it goes again. Those paper balls hitting your head. You turned around only for a paper ball to hit a bulleyes on your face. That’s when you heard that signature chuckle. You whipped your head at the curly haired boy who seemed to smirk a bit. "Why in the bloody hell is he messing with me?" You thought as you scoffed and went back to fully focusing now to the professor.

Week 1, your notes had ‘suddenly’ disappeared after you set them down? That couldn’t be right as you literally had them there…you kept checking around your desk. You were certainly going to freak out as you wanted to have a good grade. You’re not that much of an overachiever, but to not be with the class. You asked granger where your notes are and she looked sorry for you. She said she didn’t know and offer to help a bit. But really Noah was just chuckling behind his hand.

Week 2, after you figure out who took your notes. You made it clear to stay away from Noah but still give him dirty looks. He eyes you from across the hall, his deep brown eyes following your every move completely. Like a predator watching its meal walk freely. He hasn’t said anything yet which was good, but unfortunately wasn’t him. Usually he called you “lion” or “the cowardly lion” matter of fact when you didn’t do something about his antics. You scoffed at the thought of even thinking about him. “Thinking of sweet ol' me?” You jumped as you didn’t notice you practically walked past him. “How did he know?!” You thought turning around with an annoyed look. “Why in Merlin’s beard would I think about you?” You said crossing your own arms. Drost smirks as his eyes just hook onto your own. “I know everythin'…you can’t hide your prettty little head from me.” He then taps your head with one finger and taps his own head. You felt your eyes widen as your face felt warm. Quickly you walked away, hearing that echoing chuckle from the boy you seen. You hated his guts.

Week 3 was the final stretch for you. You was certainly in potions class, a fellow Gryffindor was giving you instructions. You mostly hated potions class because of professor snape, you knew he didn’t much like Gryffindors. So you didn’t want to mess up in front of his watchful eyes. As you look in the book and grabbed some ingredients, a figure quickly added another ingredient in the cauldron. Preventing from being seen by you, the gryffindor, and snape. Finally collected the ingredients, you set the recipe down. You only added a small piece of wolfsbane then suddenly the cauldron exploded. Particles of liquid scattered around the class, even hitting your face as you gasp. And there it goes again, that chuckle that seemed to enraged your whole soul and being. You swiftly turn around to yell only to face snape. And he did not look impressed. “..10 points from Gryffindors.” He said, looking down at you with a look that made you feel small. Most of the class laugh except for the Gryffindor you were helping. You glazed your eyes over towards the slytherin who you knew did this. Noah only smiled, a cruel smile. And you weren’t gonna let this slide for another second.

As it hit lunch time, everyone was sitted perfectly in the great hall. Almost too perfectly for a lunch. “DROST!” You yelled with a bellow. The great hall fell silent as you strutted a powerful walk. Your shoes echoing with each step as your eyes made an auto aim on the boy’s face. Your knuckles were almost white with how tight you held your wand in your dominant hand. Noah looks up, amazed at the Gryffindor he’s been pissing off lately. “Ah L/N..what must the Gryffindor want from me?” He says, his dimples showing with a small smile. “You bloody bastard! You sabotaged my cauldron and I want you to admit to professor snape or else I’ll drag you by your damned cloak and make you.” You said, you felt your heart pounding by your adrenaline. “Or what?” Noah said with a dark look. He stood up with a smirk, he was practically towering you. You stood your ground as you poke your wand to his chest. “What you gonna do lion? Roar your little words at me?” He grabbed your wrist tightly. You narrowed your eyes as you tried to pull your hand back only for him to bring it closer to his heart. He was testing you.

“Do it. Show everyone how 'brave' you are my lil lion.” You immediately dropped your wand and he smirked. You lifted your other hand and slapped him. The slap echoed making everyone’s head turn to the situation. Noah’s head was turned from your slap, he touched with his other hand that wasn’t holding your dominant hand. He scoffed and pushed you away. “Really? A slap. What are you, a ch—” before you knew it, your body reacted than your own mind. That’s when you punched him and he landed on his arse. His nose bleeding a bit. Now most students started an uproar. Noah angrily got up and tackled you to the ground. You grunted before feeling a punch to your cheek. “So you finally had the balls?!” He yelled grabbing to your shirt. His eyes dark, and the blood dropped to his mouth. Before he could land another punch he started to levitate in the air.

“Wingardium Leviosa!” a professor said as they immediately separated the two of you. Noah smiled crazily seeing you getting help by a student of another house. You glared at him before he got set down and escorted out. You still kept your eyes on the back of his head. That’s when he turned around and lick the blood off of his lips. You froze and looked away before a professor had told you that you will be getting detention tomorrow after you get checked up on in the hospital wing. You nodded, not having the energy to say anything else. The image of Noah’s face was now engraved deeply in your brain.

Honestly you hated his fucking face. You hated how he can just smirk with his nose bleeding, you hated how that was actually hot.

Maybe detention with him won’t be so bad..

Noah sat in his desk away from your own desk. You were doodling as he just stared at you from afar. You tried to ignore that heated gaze that sat perfectly on you. With each drumming tap of his fingers on the desk he was at. It was getting hard to ignore him minute by minute. “Y’know…I find it intriguing how you stood up to me. Lion.” He said with a tone you can’t explain. He smiled seeing you paused your drawing. “When you hit me, it felt like a kiss to remind me that you’re quite a brave one. Just unlike some Gryffindors.” You looked up at him weirded out as he only smirked. His dimples showing clearly which made your heart thump a bit. He tilted his head to the cheek he punched yesterday. “You look even more beautiful with that bandge on. Suits how coool you are my dear.” He teases lifting his head up as you lifted your own hand to touch your cheek. You scoffed looking away from the Slytherin. He raised a brow, sitting up correctly. He kept his brown eyes on you. He started to chew inside his mouth, he started to have second thoughts in how he basically pushed your limits during the weeks. He cleared his throat, getting out of his seat in one motion going towards you. “I..uhm. I’m sorry.” You slowly look up to see him walk towards you. His head down as he suck in his lip. “I was quite the arse to you and I must say I’m sorry for how I made you feel.” Those brown eyes that you can’t look away looks directly to your own eyes.

You for once seen vulnerability in his eyes. His brown eyes that seem to melt wonderfully towards your own eyes. You watch him closely incase it was one of his little lies. He kept that stare, a stare that begs for you to forgive. He cleared his throat again looking away from you. “It’s alright if you don’t forgive..you were right of course to call me a 'bloody bastard' love.” You chuckled at the pet name but mostly cause of the lack of confidence in his stance as well. His shuffling feet made it amusing on his part. You never seen him act this way before. You stood chuckling as you got up to face him. “Well…I suppose I forgive you.” You put out your hand for a truce. Noah’s eyes light up like stars, quickly taking your hand and shaking it with a smile. “Thank you li…I mean L/N..” he smiles, stopping himself to even call you lion. But you must admit to yourself that you did like the little nickname he gave you. “You like the nickname?” You jumped as you let go of his hand, only to see his devilish smirk. Before you could try to deny it, he intertwined his hand to yours. Bringing you close to his face.

He smirks, grabbing you by the back of your head. Your heads close together, eyes making contact as you held your breath. His smirk only grew wider, that dark wood scent was driving you crazy and he knew it. “Cmon darlin', speak your mind. I know your pretty little mouth likes to chat away.” He said, his voice low so you could only hear him. You bite the inside of your cheek, you wanted to slap him. But also kiss his lips, you didn’t know what to do. All you could was stare into his deep brown eyes that seem to hypnotize you. “Cmon darlin', I’m waitin'.” He starts to move away, his fingers leaving a slight lingering touch on the back of your head. As he smirked he didn’t know what shocked him most when you grabbed him by his tie and smashed your lips to his. His eyes widen, before you could break away embarrassed by your own boldness. He grabbed the side of your face and kissed you deeper, leaning forward. It was a hungry deep kiss, but also passionate. You drowned in his scent, the scent clogging up all your senses.

And ever since that, everything changed. And not for the worst surprisingly. Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months with you two together. He started to actually be sweet than what was underneath that tough boy mask. He always carried your books, held your hand. He was slightly clingy but not in an overwhelming sense. He even makes sure you understand the class and give you notes. His teases are still there, but he’s more softer. You like how soft and how he shows how vulnerable he is.

One day, Noah basically ran towards you and tackled you to the floor, smiling wide with his pearly whites. “Ah my favorite lion! Have you missed me dear, why wouldn’t you.” The Slytherin boy had to go to a tutoring session and missed relaxing with you in the courtyard. He got up dusting his cloaks and helped you up as well. He seemed very happy to see you today, some students walked by. Giving odd glances that a Slytherin and a Gryffindor was much in a committed relationship. “Ah my favorite snake.” You snickered at him, he seemed to be waiting for something as he kept a closed smile on his face. The boy was nearly smiling his bloody ear off. You raise a brow while his own smile turned into a smirk. That’s where you realize and chuckle, leaning forward to do a small peck on his lips only for him to gently cup your face and kiss you hungrily. You must say, he is an eager man.

A/N: Sorry if it’s bad, I never wrote a troupe like this one. Hope it’s good!

[godsiero]

promises (found a title)

heyo, i’m back with PLOT and EXPOSITION. sorry it’s so long, but this is needed information! it could’ve been longer, but then i realized it was nearing 10k and decided to stop lmao. i actually edited and proofread this one before posting it like a big girl so i hope the five people who read it enjoy it! i love this so much, but also please criticise me.

chapter one is here

wc: 9k

warnings: physical abuse (oc), panic attack (oc), hurt/comfort (spencer is the sweetest), mentions of drug and alcohol abuse, general cm content, mentions of possible sexual harassment

__________________________________________

In the six months that had passed since joining the team, Claudia had started to fit right in, the same way Morgan had said she would. Any time she’d had off, she found herself sharing it with Spencer; discussing books and reading over the essays of past agents Blake and Lewis, whom he spoke highly of, and she wished she could’ve met them while they were on the team. They bonded over their time as professors, discussing the different experiences they’d had; Spencer with his classes full of auditing students (Claudia sensed there was something fishy behind that), Claudia with her classes full of boys who would never listen. That made Spencer a certain type of upset he couldn’t quite place. He’d ask her about it another time.

Claudia was the first person in a long time to hold a candle to Gideon when it came to playing chess with Spencer, again, it gave him a feeling in his chest he couldn’t quite place. When they played chess, they would either sit in silence, or they would both ramble off at each other about everything and nothing, and they quickly discovered they had a lot more in common than their academic tastes.

Claudia had put him in check during one of their games and mumbled “Allons-y!” under her breath in a tired haze. She hadn’t realized Spencer had heard her until she heard his laugh (which she enjoyed getting out of him, often, but that was neither here nor there).

“Were you showing me you’ve been working on your French, or were you quoting David Tennant’s doctor?” Spencer had his suspicions that Claudia had at least seen a little bit of the show. She had a scarf that was a subtler version of the fourth Doctor’s and sometimes he’d see her notes she would take during briefings and on the plane, and he’d notice she would doodle the different screwdrivers, but he’d never tell her he was looking so closely at something so small that was only meant for her to see. She would never tell him she’s noticed his wandering eye.

She smiled into herself, trying to avoid his gaze, cursing herself for outing one of her secrets so obviously. It was one thing to subtly hint she’d had the interest, it was another thing entirely to let it slip out so clearly. She’d wanted to wait a little longer before showing the team who she really, really was, but she thinks she’d be fine with him knowing her a little better than anybody else.

“What if it was both?”

Spencer raised his eyebrows and smiled, “Why didn’t you tell me! We could’ve been watching it together this whole time!”

Hearing him say the words “we” and “together” in the same sentence and referring to her gave her a certain sort of pride and honor she did not want to think too deeply about, considering he probably used the same words when talking about something else with someone else.

“I don’t know…” Claudia decided to come clean, partially, “I might have been…hiding a few things about myself for fear of seeming…juvenile?” She phrased it like a question because saying it out loud to someone for the first time made her feel really stupid and she suddenly regretted ever hiding herself from any of them, especially Spencer.

He looked her in the eyes, “Claudia. Your personal interests, no matter how ‘juvenile,’ do not diminish your intellect. Liking Doctor Who and having fun does not make you any less of an academic, it makes you human.”

She was surprised by how empathetic he was being. She’d gotten to know him on a personal and friendly level, and she was proud of that (especially since, according to Penelope, he was unusually quick to open up to Claudia), but she hadn’t expected him to be so…compassionate.

“I know, but…” she focused her gaze somewhere else, trying to think of a logical reason to explain away why she felt lying so profusely was necessary. She wanted them to know her, why was she still hiding?

“No, there doesn’t need to be a ‘but,’ you can just be honest, now. I’ve found you out, I know you’re a nerd, I know you’re a loser, just like me, it’s okay,” she knew he was joking, but he gave her a sympathetic look anyway, to prove it.

“First of all, doctor, you do not know a thing about me, in due time.”

“Oh, really?” he kept his playful air about him while going on his rant, “Then how do I know you’re never listening to a podcast when you have your headphones in? How do I know that you’re actually listening to a variety of music from various genres that are all subgenres of rock or metal? How do I know that your favorite of all of that music came out between the years of 2002 and 2008? How do I know that you often listen to the same songs over and over again because you can’t get enough of them until you catch an itch to listen to a different song approximately 12 times in a row, without getting bored? If I, presumably, don’t know a thing about you, how is it that I know, arguably, the most important thing about you?”

For lack of a better word, Claudia was speechless.

He had just made an absolute fool out of her and she couldn’t even say a word.

So she started laughing.

She wasn’t laughing at him. She was laughing at how stupid she had been to think she could’ve gotten anything past him, especially the thing that meant the most to her.

“Are you laughing because I’m right? Because I know I’m right. I know I tend to be right, but there is a less than 5% chance I’m wrong and just made an idiot of myself,” he was chuckling along with her.

Gasping for air while she spoke, or rather, yelled, “YES! Yes, god, you’re right, you’re right! But Jesus Christ, you didn’t have to hit the nail on the head, Spencer!”

He gave her a playful side-smile, “I knew I’d figure you out. You had me fooled for a while there.”

“That was the idea.”

“Why? I understood the fear of appearing juvenile, but, forgive me, your music taste is anything but. And that’s coming from someone who listens to Mozart and Bach.”

“I just wanted everyone to see me as this…proper…professional. I don’t know, being the youngest on a team full of people who have known each other for a decade is a little intimidating,” she was the one rambling, now, “so long story short I tried to hide everything that made me, me so everybody would like me and think I was incredible at this job, and it worked, I guess, because JJ and Emily come to me for advice and Morgan talks to me about his fatherly insecurities and Rossi invites me over to his mansion to discuss cultura e storia and I work out with Hotch and I don’t even know how I ended up in such situations, but it seems a thank you is in order to give to my fake self that is quiet, yet sassy, and firm, yet soft, and totally and completely calm any time you lay eyes on her, meanwhile Claudia Jessup is actually a loud and abrasive autistic freak who self-soothes by blasting music so loud, you’d think I’d gone deaf by now, and buying trinkets that make my heart flutter, and drinking coffee as much as I possibly can because it makes me feel like it’s always cold outside, and buying romance books because I just love reading about two people going stupid with how desperate they are for each other, and I also love the way they smell and how they feel when I flip all of the pages at the same time, and I love Peter Capaldi’s Doctor and I am tired of pretending he was a terrible choice.”

She finally gasped for air and came out of her self-induced tunnel vision to see Spencer. Still sitting across from her, at his chess table, in his apartment. He hadn’t stopped listening. He hadn’t gotten up and begun to ignore her. He hadn’t walked to the door to tell her to leave. He’d just listened. A grin adorned his face. He was bursting at the seams with pride. He was so happy to get the truth out of her. He’d gotten so close to her, so fast, that she’d let her mask slip a few times, and he was determined to crack her open, and he did. At first, he felt bad. He felt as though he’d pushed her too far, before she was ready, but he could tell, now, that she had needed to do that. She needed to stop hiding and lying.

“Feel better?”

She felt like she just finished with a manic episode. She was laughing with every exhale, she put her elbows on her knees, and put her hands on her forehead, staring at the ground, eyes wide, “Yeah. Yeah, I feel better. I feel…I feel like I just went supernova on you…”

“I certainly don’t feel like you just went supernova on me.”

“And I think if I stay here any longer, I might suck you into the black hole.”

She’d had breaks like this before. The end of a long period of masking. The beginning of the end was always an epiphany; it made her feel high. Then it was followed by panic; she felt like she’d gone too far, blown everything out of proportion, gone supernova. Then finally, she would bring everything in her wake down with her, in a fit of embarrassing, dramatic, and unintentional rage and emotion she’d never meant to place on anybody. She needed to get away from Spencer immediately; she didn’t want him to see that part of her. Ever.

In addition to the obvious, this conversation with Spencer, and his response and reaction, had flipped a switch inside of her. She’d realized there was something she needed to do before she could fully, officially open up to everybody on the team, and she thought she was finally in the position to do it. She got up from his chess table and started to get her things.

“Claudia, you don’t have to-”

“No, no, Spencer, it’s fine, I’m fine, I just…really don’t want you to see what happens next…”

“Where are you going?”

“I just…there’s something I need to do tonight.”

“I can go with you.”

“No, no, thank you, that’s okay. I need to be alone. I’ll see you Monday.”

“Okay…be safe.”

“I will, I promise. Get some sleep.”

“Okay…call me if you need anything.”

“I will.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Okay. Goodnight, Claudia”

“Goodnight, Spencer.”

As she left Spencer’s apartment, she double checked everything: her bank account, her lease, her insurance, her storage unit, her security system. She couldn’t believe it took her this long to act on the plan she’d been silently hatching with herself, but she needed to be positive she could do it by herself before making her first move.

Claudia spent the last five years in a relationship. She spent the last three years living with them. She spent the last two in self defense and boxing classes. Over the last six months, she’d been working up the courage to prove to herself she could survive on her own. Despite her time with the CSI, her time as a professor, and her time as a licensed therapist, she still had never been able to safely and securely leave. Something about Spencer figuring her out and her spilling her guts to him and him still hanging around without a trace of fear in his eyes made her realize she could’ve and should’ve done this years ago. She leveled with herself and said better late than never.

When she arrived home, he wasn’t there, thank god. She didn’t know how she was going to go about this, at all. She looked around and hated everything she saw. Like she told Spencer earlier, she would always buy little trinkets and toys and paintings and books and blankets and mugs she liked, but she never had anywhere to put them. Seeing things that brought her joy in a place that brought her so much pain made her feel stupid. She hated feeling happy around him. She didn’t want to give him the pleasure of even thinking he caused it, not that he would, he hated her just as much as she hated him. They barely even spoke or saw each other any more, neither of them were ever home at the same time, even before she got this job, not that she was complaining.

They did love each other, once. A long time ago. He thought she was smart, she thought he was alive. They liked the same music, ran in the same crowds, it seemed right, and it was for two years. It was nice, he was nice. Eventually, though, she’d started paying less and less attention to him. Not out of anything personal, but because her career had started falling into place; she’d become a professor at Penn, she’d been promoted with the CSI, and she’d kept clients for years, at that point; she’d gotten everything she’d wanted.

And he hadn’t. He built up a resentment towards her. He started partying more, drinking more, doing drugs, cheating on her (though he didn’t know she knew that). She didn’t know what she’d done wrong, but she knew something changed. It was when he came home in a drunken rage and hit her that she realized nothing would ever be the same. At the time, it had felt like a one-time-thing. You would think she would’ve left, given what she knew, but she saw it as an opportunity for a case study. Selfish? Of course, but she was putting herself at risk for the sake of science, she could live with that.

She had tried doting on him more, being kinder, going out of her way to please him, and she found he had been nicer, happier, more tolerant of her busy schedule. After a month, she started ignoring him again, throwing herself into her work, never coming home before he was asleep, and her theory was right, that set him off again. This time, he wasn’t drunk, and he beat the shit out of her. Shouting at her, spitting on her, very nearly breaking her bones, definitely leaving some deep cuts and bruises that took weeks to go away. In the middle of it all, she’d started taking classes to be sure if he ever went too far, she could fight back, and take him down. That went on until he got bored.

A year. She spent a year conducting this study. After he’d finally got tired of his affectionately abusive cocktail, he stopped paying attention to her entirely. That was when she really cracked down on her work, but the second she was able to focus totally and completely on that, Roy got sick. She would’ve finished her PhD early, but she started worrying about him. She stayed with him and cared for him as long as she could, until…

The months after were a blur. She focused on her work when she needed to. When she wasn’t working, she was at home. Not her apartment, but home, where she’d grown up. Going through everything, not that there was much. Roy was never a material kind of guy. He sure knew how to raise a material kind of girl, though.

She had taken far longer than she needed to. She didn’t want to leave that house. She didn’t want to go back to the one she lived in now. She didn’t want to be around him anymore. The day she had finished cleaning out the house was the day she decided to leave him, even though she didn’t know how. She knew it would take a while, but she promised herself, and Roy, that she would do it.

Claudia Jessup did not break her promises.

She’d had to move him to D.C. with her. He didn’t have to come, but he did. He could’ve ended it when she left Philadelphia, but he needed her for the same reason she needed him. She was about to rip that security out from underneath him, and she felt an excitement bubbling beneath her skin that was not unlike the adrenaline she experienced while out in the field.

She was determined to stay up until he got home. She didn’t know when, or if, that would happen tonight, but it didn’t matter. It was a promise she made herself, so she was going to keep it.

She got in the shower, taking advantage of the solitude and blasting her music for the first time in what seemed like forever. She needed it. She felt bad about leaving Spencer; she wanted to text him; she’ll do it when she gets out. She’d make it up to him on Monday, when she brought him his coffee.

That was a sweet exchange. Claudia had done into the bullpen with coffee from The Grounds. Not her favorite place to get a cup from, but certainly the closest and easily accessible on her way to work. You would never believe the absolute shock on her face when Spencer had entered her and Penelope’s conversation with a cup from Coci, her preferred choice of coffee shop in the harbour. She instantly started interrogating him about it.

“Is that from Coci?”

“Yeah, it’s not my favorite, but my favorite is kind of out of the way for me, so I settle for second best. Anything beats the pot here,” she feigned betrayal on her face at his admission.

“How dare you.”

“What?”

“How dare you say drinking from Coci is a ‘second best’ kind of experience,” she said dreamily.

“Because I believe it is. I don’t think it’s bad, it’s just not what I prefer. I’d love to get a cup from The Grounds, but that would add an extra twenty minutes to my commute, and that’s not worth it.”

She looked at him, dumbfounded, looked at her own coffee, and turned it toward him so that the label faced him.

“You mean…this ‘The Grounds’ coffee?”

It was Spencer’s turn to be playfully shocked, “Oh my god! You go to The Grounds?”

“Since moving here, yes, and I would say this is second best to my one true love, Coci.”

“Well I think it’s settled then. How do you take yours?”

“Black and scalding, why?”

“I’m going to start bringing you your order, if you don’t mind bringing mine. This seems a fair exchange.”

“You’re not “boy genius” for nothing, clearly,” he’d told her his coffee should have at least eight packs of sugar in it, which made her laugh. When he didn’t say he was joking, she looked very concerned, “Wait, seriously?”

“Seriously.”

With that, a tradition had started: every morning, Spencer had brought her her favorite black coffee and Claudia had brought him his favorite black coffee…with a ridiculous amount of sugar.

“Sugar with coffee,” she said.

“Coffee with nothing,” he replied.

They cheered each other and said that every single morning since then, and she’d hoped it would never stop.

She’d gotten so wrapped up in the memory, she didn’t hear her music stop playing because she was getting a phone call. She was in the middle of washing her face when she opened the shower curtain to see she was getting a call from Garcia. She rinsed off her face with record breaking speed and picked up her phone, while still halfway in the shower.

“Garcia?”

“Hi, hon. I know it’s late, or, uh, early, but we’ve got a case. Get here as soon as you can and be safe.”

“Okay. I’ll be there in thirty,” and she hung up the phone. She could’ve said twenty, but since it was four in the morning, she figured she may as well keep up appearances with Spencer, while it was on her mind.

She hadn’t realized how late it had gotten and instantly regretted having the music so loud, she’d hoped her neighbors wouldn’t mind. She got dressed and stepped out of the bedroom, running into him.

“Jesus, Devon, I didn’t even hear you come in,” she wasn’t afraid of him, but she was afraid of somebody coming into her home, so not hearing that he’d come in shocked her a little.

“Feeling a little jumpy, Claude? Your big girl job scaring you yet?”

“You? Scare me? Not in a million years. And don’t call me that,” she pushed past him and tried to get her go bag from the front closet, but he grabbed her arm and stopped her.

“Where are you going? It’s four in the morning on a Sunday.”

“One, I don’t have to tell you where I’m going. Two, this happens sometimes. Three, you’re drunk,” she could’ve pulled out of his grasp, but chose not to. Now was as good a time as ever to execute her plan. Case be damned, this needed to happen, now, or she wouldn’t have the opportunity again, for who knows how long.

He held onto her arm tighter, “What? You gonna arrest me for drinking, officer?”

“I’m not an officer. Let me go, Devon.”

“Why? So you can run off to your little brainiac?” he had let her go, but he did so by tossing her away.

“There is no way you are accusing me of cheating right now.”

“You’re not denying it.”

“Even if I was, which I’m not, why does it matter to you?”

He abruptly ran up to her, gripped her shoulders, and pinned her against the wall, gritting through his teeth, “Because I’d like to know if I need to teach somebody a lesson on loyalty.”

She spit in his face, then, which caused him to pull her off the wall and slam her head right back into it.

“You think you can treat me like that, bitch?” he was yelling now. She was holding the back of her head.

“Yes, actually, I do. You’re a drugged up drunk who beats on someone who’s never done a single thing to you besides stay with you through all of your bullshit, including cheating on her.”

He gave her a good backhand slap, that sent her to the ground, “You don’t know that, how do you know that?”

“I didn’t, but thank you for the confirmation,” she smiled a rueful smile at him and stood up. She felt blood running down her face. He had a ring he always wore on his finger that must’ve cut her face, when he hit it.

He hit her in the same spot and sent her to the ground again, this time with his fist.

“Keep ‘em comin’, Devon, beat the shit out of me like you always do!” at that, he put his hands around her neck, pulled her up, and slammed her against the wall again, this time cutting off her airway.

She choked out, “Go…a-ahead. Sh-show…the gov..ernment…what…y-you…can…do-”

He threw her to the ground at the reminder of her job, “God dammit Claudia, why do you have to be like this?”

“Be like what? Ready and willing to please you?” she was clutching her throat, gasping for air between words.

He had never liked when she was sarcastic, he grabbed her face with his hand, “Don’t fuck with me,” and kneed her in the stomach, throwing her on the ground.

She couldn’t help but let out a grunt, at that. She might be mentally fine with his abuse, but he was still fully capable of hurting her.

He flipped her over and straddled her, making sure she stayed on the ground, not that she was going to try to get up, and he went to town on her face with his fists.

Between blows she would manage to get out, “‘Do your worst, inferior one,’” this threw him off, so he hesitated on his next punch, which gave her the opportunity to take advantage of him. She tucked her leg under his bent knee and flipped him over, pinned his arms to the ground, and started pressing her forearm into his neck ever so slightly before getting really close to his face and saying, “Take a good look at your handiwork, Devon. Enjoy it while you can because you will never see me again,” her entire face was bloody and swollen. She knew he loved to look at the damage he had done to her, knowing it made her beautiful face unsightly, making people turn away from her on the street when her favorite thing was human connection. This was how he took her down. Or so he thought.

“Listen to me right now. Nobody. Will ever know you did this to me. The FBI will never know you did this to me. I’m not going to report you. I’m not going to have you arrested. I’m not going to tell a single soul how this happened. Not. Even. Spencer.” she knew that would set him off. He wanted to hate Spencer for ruining his relationship, for being smarter, for being everything he could never be. He was stuck in a state of delusion, thinking everything was fine before Spencer came along. He thought leaving his marks on her let Spencer know she was his and she belonged to him, not some nerd at her job. Little did he know she had never let anybody know the marks were from him because nobody knew about him to begin with. They knew she took boxing courses at the bureau, which they all knew could get ugly, but were worth it for the experience and pay off. Any marks they saw on her were easily explained away by that.

“You are going to give me your key. You are going to walk out of here before me. We. Are. Done. Do you understand me?” he didn’t respond because of the lack of oxygen getting to his brain, “Do you understand me?” she said it much louder, then, and he nodded as best he could.

“Take your key off of your belt.”

She let go of his left arm and he slid it down to his belt loop where he’d had his keys on a carabiner. He unclipped it and tossed it across the room.

After that, she climbed off of him, went to the keys, found the one he’d had to the place, and took it off. Triple checking he hadn’t made a copy. He was too stupid to hide one anywhere and she was too smart to leave one hidden in case of an emergency for him to know about.

He couldn’t even go after her to give her a piece of his mind because he was too busy regaining full consciousness while she was dealing with the keys. When she was finished, she walked back over to him, grabbed his shirt in her fist, and pulled him into a standing position. She didn’t say anything to him as she opened the door and shoved him outside. She locked all three locks before walking back into her bathroom to check the damage he’d done.

This was probably the worst he’d ever done to her. Her lips were busted, her gums were bleeding, her eyes were bloodshot, her cheeks were bruised. She had cuts all over her face, her ribs were bruised, and there were ten faint lines burned into her neck from where his hands had been.

She looked herself in the eye and smiled. She started crying to herself. She’d never been more proud of something she had done, including make Roy proud. She was honored to be in this body and in this mind and make it out alive of what she’d just done.

She cleaned herself up, put on some makeup, and a few butterfly bandages.

She examined herself and determined the way she looked now would pass as “a few cuts and bruises from Luke at the training facility.”

Then, she remembered she promised Spencer to call him if she needed anything (it was not lost on her that she also promised him that she would be safe, and although she just got the pulp beaten out of her, she was safe the entire time).

While she was leaving her apartment, she’d called Spencer.

He picked up the phone with his typical sass, “Did you even sleep?”

“No. Did you?”

“Nope.”

“I told you to get some sleep!”

“I never promised that I would.”

“Touche. I made a promise, though, and that was to call you if I needed anything…”

“Coci?”

“You’re already there aren’t you?”

“You think just because it’s four in the morning on a Sunday I’d forget about my Claudia’s coffee? Who do you think I am? Some sort of criminal?”

She deliberately ignored how casually he called her his Claudia.

“No, somebody else did that already.”

“Ouch.”

“Sorry. Too soon?”

“You can make it up to me by returning the favor.”

“On it, bud. Over and out.”

By the time she hung up, she’d gotten into her car, and made her way to The Grounds.

__________________________________________

Claudia had been walking into the front entrance of the BAU’s building when she noticed Spencer was the person a few feet in front of her.

“Hey! Sugar with coffee!” she shouted to get his attention.

He’d just finished swiping his card, so he opened the door and held it for her (which was strictly against policy, but it was Claudia).

“Coffee with nothing,” they exchanged cups as she walked through the door, “my god they did a number on you didn’t they?” he’d begun to inspect her face, seeing all of the cuts she’d bandaged. She looked at him, confused as to what he was talking about, then he saw where his eyes were going as he inspected her face, and remembered.

“Oh. Yeah,” before she could say anymore, she remembered she promised not to lie to him anymore. Her admission was honest enough. She never promised to not withhold information.

He had a subtle hint of concern in his eyes that he normally didn’t have when he noticed her cuts and bruises she got from the training facility. He felt like something was off about these, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. He knew she wasn’t lying, but something was off about how she avoided eye contact with him after he’d said something.

Then he remembered the facility didn’t have classes on Sunday, and when she’d left his apartment only hours before, she didn’t look like that.

He was just about to pry more information out of her, when they ran into JJ, coming from the opposite direction.

“Anybody else feel like they’re sleepwalking?”

“Tell me about it, I didn’t sleep at all, literally,” Claudia chuckled.

“Me neither, Henry has had food poisoning, and my mother was staying with us, talk about having your hands full.”

The elevator dinged. Claudia and JJ stepped into the elevator, while Spencer stayed put, stuck in a daze.

“Spence?”

“Earth to Spencer?”

He snapped back into reality and forced his thoughts of what Claudia was keeping from him back down his throat and into the confines of his reminders for later.

“Sorry, need to drink this coffee faster I guess,” he tried at a joke, but they could both see something else turning the gears of that big brain of his.

Claudia knew it had something to do with her, judging by his previous reaction, and considering she didn’t exactly want to talk about it in front of JJ, she stayed silent.

JJ, however, had other plans, “Are you okay? You look a little…”

Before she could finish, he blinked and shook his head like a dog after a bath, “Yeah, yeah, I’m just tired,” to really seal the deal, he let out a huge yawn, which made Claudia and JJ follow suit.

Mid-yawn, breaking the tension between her and Spencer, Claudia said, “My god, don’t do that.”

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it,” he picked up that that was her way of acknowledging she knew that he knew she was hiding something from him, so he calmed down a bit too. By the time he said that, they’d reached the sixth floor, only to be met by the rest of the team heading into the elevator.

“No time to brief you three. Wheels up now.”

__________________________________________

The plane ride was lackluster, the case is straightforward, but still unable to be solved, for now. This unsub is particularly frantic and unpredictable with his timing, but his MO suggests he was abandoned by his father and looking for surrogates now. Nothing they hadn’t seen before.

After a long flight to Seattle and the drive to this small town thirty miles outside of it, Hotch demanded everyone get some sleep in order to crack down on this guy the next day.

The small town hospitality was not unrecognized. Everybody knew everybody, so when the local police needed to house FBI agents who were trying to catch the man killing well-respected people of the community, loads of folks opened their doors, including a local inn.

Owned and operated by a retired couple in their seventies, it had surprisingly good business, which, unfortunately for the team, meant they had to bunk.

“Lucky for us they still have three rooms available,” Hotch said.

“Lucky? Hotch, have you noticed there are six of us?” Morgan was always the first to despise the idea of bunking with anybody.

“Yes, I have, which is why we’re lucky they still have three rooms and not two.”

“Well, JJ, let’s get a move-on,” Emily had already grabbed her go-bag and took a key from Hotch without a second thought.

“Well, I am absolutely not rooming with Reid,” Morgan had always had a strict “no Spencer” clause when it came to situations like this.

“Guess it’s you and me then,” Hotch had responded to Derek, until he realized who that left, “oh…”

Neither Spencer, nor Claudia, had realized this either until the moment came. Claudia had stopped scrolling on her phone and Spencer had stopped perusing the lobby, waiting for his room assignment, but they heard Hotch’s exclamation.

They both looked at Hotch, then at each other, the back at Hotch before saying, at the exact same time:

“It’s totally fine, we’re friends.”

“There’ll be a male and female pair no matter what we do.”

They looked back at each other one last time before Hotch said, “Okay. As long as you’re both okay with this arrangement, I won’t bother anybody over it.”

He threw Claudia the key before leading Morgan up the stairs to their room. Hotch muttered something to Derek that made him yell with laughter. Spencer and Claudia could only imagine what that was about.

As if on cue, the two looked at each other at the exact same time and started giggling like children who had caught their parents doing something silly.

“Come on,” Claudia said through her fit of laughter.

As she walked ahead of him, Spencer’s mind wandered back to the cuts on her face. He’d thought she’d had more makeup on today than usual. Not that he often paid attention to how little or how much makeup she wore (she rarely wore more than the bare minimum, but he only knew that because she wore a bit less than JJ, Emily, and Garcia). He thought it was strange that she not only procured multiple cuts, but had also been wearing a turtleneck in August. Not the most absurd thing to see, but definitely not ordinary. He wondered if she packed more to continue hiding.

They walked to the room in a comfortable silence, but there was still something lingering between them, and they both knew what it was.

Claudia arrived at the door and unlocked it, making her way inside to, thankfully, see two beds. She had read enough romance novels to know sharing a room with your best friend by chance usually leads things in a crazy direction she did not want to go into tonight (or ever, for that matter, she shoved that thought deep, deep down). She had also had enough sense in her to know that things like that don’t happen in real life.

“Which bed do you want?” Spencer knocked her out of her train of thought.

“Oh, uh,” she wanted to lie and say it didn’t matter, but it did, so she sucked it up and told herself that it’s just Spencer. She could tell him everything, no matter how silly or mundane it seemed.

“Could I have the one next to the air conditioner?”

“Absolutely,” Spencer stood in between the beds and threw his stuff on the one farther away from the ac, so that he could bow to her bed and say, “your throne awaits, my Queen,” in a truly terrible impression of one of the characters from the cartoon portion of Mary Poppins, but it made her laugh, nonetheless.

He started laughing with her, and while she tried to breathe through her laughs she asked, “What on god’s good earth was that!”

“I have no idea, I’m so tired,” he was still laughing, too, “but I did want to…diffuse some tension,” he calmed down to look her in her eyes, pleading for her to finish telling him the truth about what happened to her.

When she just stared back at him, he continued, “Claudia, there is no training at the facility on Sunday. You didn’t get those from Luke.”

She looked away from him, then. She felt her eyes start to burn, but she refused to crack in front of him.

“No. I didn’t.”

“Then where did you get them from,” Spencer was being very gentle with his delivery, which she appreciated.

After a moment’s silence, weighing her options, she said, “Spencer. I will tell you,” she took in a shaky breath, “if you promise not to tell anyone.”

“I promise.”

“I mean it.”

“So do I,” at that, he held up his pinky for her to take. They’d had a discussion a while ago where they both thought keeping a pinky promise was above the law, space, and time, and they meant it, wholeheartedly. She looked between his eyes and his hand and took his pinky in hers. He brought his hand to his lips and kissed his thumb. He pushed their hands towards her and she did the same.

Neither of them tried to let go by the time she started talking, so they both held on tighter.

“Uh…so…like I already told you, I had been trying to keep parts of myself a secret,” she looked into his eyes to be sure he was listening (and also to seek solace). He nodded.

“Well, one of the biggest was that I…kind of…maybe…had a boyfriend…the whole time…” Spencer’s eyes went wide with shock and his brow furrowed at this admission. Of all the things he’s seen through, he never would’ve guessed that.

“You- what?”

He wasn’t mad, he was genuinely surprised.

“Emphasis on the word ‘had,’” she rolled her eyes, “as of this morning.”

Spencer realized where this was going and he felt his chest and jaw clench, his eyes burn, and his blood pulsing everywhere.

Claudia noticed those physical changes and she couldn’t help but look at him like he was a lost puppy. Seeing him like this hurt her more than anything Devon had ever done to her.

She wrapped her hand around his wrist that was holding her pinky, “I don’t want to make you upset-“

He cut her off, “Nothing you are doing is making me upset, I promise. Keep going.”

At that, Claudia sat down on the bed Spencer had claimed as his, and she pulled him down to sit next to her. She didn’t think she could look into those doe eyes of his any longer without completely breaking down, especially while saying what she was about to say.

“I started dating him halfway through the first year of my doctorate. I went to all of these concerts with my friends from my undergrad program and he was always there too. I thought he was cool. My friends who were friends with his friends thought he was cool. We kissed a few times, went on some dates, and started seeing each other. He supported me through half of my time at Penn; he made sure I ate between teaching courses and having sessions with my clients. He made sure I slept enough when I got back from investigations with the CSI, even if it meant canceling some of my classes, my students always understood. After we moved in together, something…switched in him. He started drinking, he stopped going to work, he started avoiding me. One day, after weeks of me being absent and juggling everything all at once, I came home and he was angry. A kind of angry I had never seen before from anybody. He…threw his nearly-full bottle of beer at the door I had walked through. It barely missed my head. When it did, he ran me into the wall and started choking me. My head hit the wall so hard, I nearly fainted. When I didn’t faint, he punched me. Then I blacked out…”

“Did he-“ she knew what Spencer was alluding to, and didn’t want him to finish his sentence.

“No. No. He never did that,” there were times, however, that she had felt the same amount of passion was not reciprocated. But she didn’t want to tell him that. That had nothing to do with this.

“I woke up on the floor, confused. I figured it was a fit of drunken rage, so I decided not to think too hard about it. That is, until, it kept happening,” Spencer felt like his muscles and his bones were going to rip out of his skin. His leg was bouncing up and down and his hands had started to shake from keeping all of this rage inside of him. Claudia noticed, but if she didn’t keep talking, she’d never finish. She needed this to end just as badly as him, and if she didn’t tell him everything, he would know.

“That was my life for a year. It only happened when he was drunk, but it got worse. After the second time, the time I knew it was all intentional, I started taking self-defense and boxing classes and I promised myself I would leave him, but I didn’t know how. I couldn’t live by myself. I didn’t want to tell anybody this was happening, especially not-“ she felt a lump in her throat. She didn’t know if she should or could tell Spencer about Roy. Her eyes were wet now, but she was stubborn as all hell, and refused to cry in front of him about something as stupid as Devon. Roy, on the other hand, she could cry about Roy any time of day, and she wasn’t even a crier, but she didn’t think it was fair to dump all of that onto Spencer when she was already telling him all of this.

“Especially not who?” she hadn’t realized she zoned out while weighing her options. Now he would definitely know she was keeping something from him. Honesty, it is then.

“Somebody I…I can’t tell you about, right now, or ever, maybe, but…” she didn’t know how to justify her reasoning for that besides the fact that she had made a bigger promise to Roy to try not to dwell on him. Or talk about him. Thanks for the impossible task, jackass.

“It’s okay. Keep going,” Spencer was being so nice to her, she felt like she would shatter into a million pieces with how fragile she felt.

She told him about her study she’d conducted on him. Spencer recognized it as a part of her dissertation she had written. This whole time, his favorite part of her dissertation, a part that felt so clinical, so real, so calculated, and so emotional wasn’t about a willing client of Claudia’s. It was about Claudia herself. He felt like he was going to be sick.

She didn’t notice, so she kept going. She began to ramble because she realized that would be the only way to get all of this out. She told him about how their conversation led her to finally make the decision to enact this ridiculous plan of hers.

“Wait,” broken from his trance, Spencer spoke up, “I caused this?”

“What? Spencer, no, absolutely not. I need you to understand that I could’ve fought back. I could’ve taken him down. I could’ve done to him what he did to me tenfold. I chose to let him do so much. It was a…selfish, psychological manipulation,” she suddenly felt horrible admitting that’s what she’d done. She felt as low as him now, “Which I realize was stupid and immature, but…I wanted him to think he was safe. I wanted him to think this was business as usual. And then I wanted to rip the rug out from under him. Crush his hopes of thinking he ever had control. From the second time he’d done this, the control was in my hands. You know, he thought everyone knew he did this to me? He took pride in it, but he never knew I covered them. He never knew you all knew I took boxing at the facility. He never knew none of you knew about him, until I told him this morning. The look behind his eyes was priceless. I wish I could’ve captured it on film. He looked so…defeated.”

She’d developed a death grip on Spencer’s wrist and instantly let go. She felt like something was breaking inside of her. She didn’t feel like herself. She was an aggressive person. She was a loud person. Hell, she was even violent, when it came to a punching bag, but the way she psychologically tortured Devon with one sentence felt like she betrayed every good thing she had ever done in the name of justice.

She got up from the bed, then, and started pacing, “I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry? For what?”

“I don’t know, everything? Holding your wrist too tight, telling you all of that, god, you probably think I’m insane now. You probably think I’m an absolute psycho who gets pleasure out of making people feel small, oh my god, I shouldn’t have said anything, I’m so sorry, Spencer, I ruined everything, please please please don’t hate me, please don’t tell me I ruined everything. Oh my god I don’t think I can handle losing you, too, right now,” she had begun to shake and hyperventilate. Spencer almost couldn’t take the sight of her like this. He never wanted to see her in pain.

“Hey,” he touched her shoulder, and guided her to sit back down, “it’s okay. You’re okay. We are okay,” he had moved his hand from her shoulder to her upper back, slowly rubbing random patterns across it.

“Can you…can you please stop that?” Claudia had never found someone rubbing her back to be soothing in the case of a panic attack, she found it actually made her feel more suffocated, but she knew Spencer didn’t know that, so she tried to ask in the nicest way possible, given the circumstances.

“Of course,” Spencer instantly stopped and removed his hand, “is there anything else you’d like me to do instead?” He was using that godforsaken whisper of his that made him seem so damn kind and understanding. She heard him use it with children multiple times out in the field, but she never thought he’d be using it on her. The tears might start falling, now, she thought.

“I don’t…I don’t know, could you…could you hold my hand really tight, please?”

She still couldn’t get a hold of her breathing. Her eyes were sealed shut and she was rubbing her hands over her pants; she felt the need to be in constant motion to remind herself that she was still alive.

“Yes,” he grabbed her right hand in both of his and gripped as hard as he thought was necessary without hurting her.

“Could you…could you squeeze harder,” she needed to feel like her circulation was about to be cut off in order for it to work.

“Harder? Are you-“

“Yes, I’m sure.”

He squeezed harder until it hurt him to keep going, and he kept that pressure there until she told him to stop. While he was gripping her hand, her breathing slowed, and her left hand had stopped rubbing her leg. Her grip on him hadn’t lessened, though, so he didn’t let go of that.

Her eyes were still shut, but she said, “I’m sorry if I scared you.”

“Claudia, you didn’t scare me by having a panic attack.”

“But I did scare you?”

“No, you didn’t scare me at all, for any reason, I promise,” it baffled him that she thought that would’ve scared him. If anything, it made him admire her more now that she was comfortable enough to let him see this side of her. Granted, you don’t choose when a panic attack happens, but she could’ve left the room if she wanted to. He knew that.

“You can loosen your hand now,” she was careful not to say ‘let go,’ because she didn’t want him to let go.

He did, but his grip was still firm, tethering her to this moment, to him, to the bed they sat on.

“Do you want some water?”

“Please.”

There were complimentary waters in the room, but they weren’t cold, and he knew she would’ve preferred it to be ice cold freezing. She sensed that’s what he was thinking about when he hesitated to bring it over to her.

“Any water, please, Spencer.”

“Sorry,” he handed her the bottle and she chugged almost the whole thing in one go. She loved the way gulping felt in her throat. It made her feel full after feeling so empty, like all of the life had been sucked out of her.

They stayed silent for a moment while she finished the last of the water, until she finally took a breath and spoke up.

“Okay. Spencer,” she stood across from him and looked him in the eyes; her normal ‘business-as-usual’ self coming back like a charm, “I am going to shower. In that shower, I am going to wash my face. Washing my face means the makeup is going to come off. The makeup covering the worst of the gory details. Do you understand me?”

He nodded.

“When I get out, I would prefer it if you were wrapped up in something else. After the fiasco that just happened, my god, I do not want you to see…this,” she gestured to her entire neck and face, “please be preoccupied. I am begging you.”

He was hesitant to agree. He had a conflict going on inside of him. On one hand, he wanted to see what that bastard really did to her, what extent he went to. On the other…he didn’t want to see her torn apart and beaten with such scrutiny. He didn’t want to see any of it. He wanted to see all of it.

“Okay. I’ll just go to bed. If you need me, wake me up. I won’t mind.”

“Okay,” and with that, she went into the bathroom.

It was probably the best and the worst shower of her entire life. The best because the shower after a panic attack is always incredible and the worst because the shower after a panic attack is always like coming down after a high.

That is, literally, what it is, in a way. She had shattered in that bedroom and Spencer, dear as he was, picked up the pieces, but she had to mend herself.

The tears never fell, they usually don’t. She let the warmth (some might even say scalding hot heat) engulf her. She had to feel like she was in a sauna and a hot spring simultaneously to have the prime shower experience, panic attack notwithstanding, this was a daily need. She let it run over her face, clearing her mind of the headache she felt coming on. She breathed some more and she rubbed her face before finally scrubbing the awful events of that morning off of her. Normally, she showered quickly, but after that she needed to take her time with herself. Instead of quickly going through the motions, she made sure every strand of hair was coated in shampoo and every inch of her body was lathered in body wash and given the same love and care at the end as she gave herself at the beginning. She kept her eyes closed. She kept breathing. Trying to think about nothing. She had a passing thought of Roy and how he used to bathe her when she was little and how she’d come home extremely intoxicated at six in the morning on a day during her undergrad program and he washed her face for her. She remembered, she smiled, she let it go. She took a few more deep breaths and finally got out of the shower. She felt so good, so clean, so calm, so peaceful. And then she saw her face again.

It had gotten worse, as bruises usually do. The cuts were healing fine, thanks to the butterfly bandages, but the bruises. Her cheek and eye were swollen where he’d socked her twice with his ring. Oh well. There was nothing to be done about it besides wait. She took an anti-inflammatory for the swelling, her insomnia medication, brushed her teeth, and turned the light off before exiting the bathroom.

Her bed was closer to the bathroom, thank god. She turned down the covers to get into bed when she heard Spencer rustle and she froze.

He heard her stop moving, so he felt the need to reassure her, “I was just putting my book on the table, I’m not facing your direction.”

“Oh. Okay…” she continued getting into the bed, making sure to face away from him.

They both settled into bed. Him staring at the ceiling, her putting her headphones in (dangerous, she knew that, but even with her medication, she couldn’t sleep without noise), but before she started the music, she had one last thing to say.

“Spencer,” she whispered.

“Claudia.”

“Thank you.”

He didn’t need any clarification. In fact, he didn’t even need a thank you, he felt it was an honor and a privilege to help someone so steadfast and sure of themselves. She trusted him to see her like that. He felt like he should be thanking her, but instead, he settled for:

“You would’ve done the same for me.”

[jojo-schmo]

A Walk Down my Art Memory Lane!

Now that I’m thinking about my childhood Kirby art, I dug through my storage a bit and thought it’d be fun to share a few! Here are some of Baby Jojo’s drawings!

note: I was not active in any online Kirby art communities at the time and I never posted these anywhere so I made these drawings just for my own enjoyment hehehe.

These are probably among my earliest Kirby drawings. Most likely ~2008!! I must’ve been in fifth grade maybe…? The first picture is a very rare example of pre-2022 Dedede sightings in my art. Around 2010 I became embarrassed and frustrated about not being able to figure his shapes out. So I spent the next 12 years avoiding him at all costs and instead sticking to the safer things to draw, like nice round Bronto Burts or Waddle Dees. Who knew it would take me writing an entire comic about him in 2022 to finally learn to draw him in my style!! :P

The second picture speaks for itself lol. I was the girl who googled “maskless meta knight” back when we had no fancy 3D renderings of his face. Just edits of anime screenshots and fanart of him holding his mask/getting his mask stolen and looking at you with the biggest, pearliest, white eyes. JPEG artifacts littered these images like sprinkles on a cupcake. And I would giggle and squee with every one like the baby fangirl of Meta Knight I was. :3

This one was probably ~2009. Very ambitious piece for me at that age. I struggled with the perfect roundness of Kirby haha. I had just gotten these cool alphabet stencils and couldn’t wait to write “Kirby” everywhere with them. This was probably the complete catalogue of Kirby characters I had the ability to draw at that time. It’s funny to think about how Magolor wouldn’t exist for another two years when I drew this.

Hmm. Maybe I should redraw this one day as a fun honor for my younger self.

Triple Waddle Dees!! A rare but precious Sailor Dee sighting, and of course my sweet Bandana Dee. This was probably around 2011 after Return to Dreamland came out and I came to adore Bandee. :3

This is probably around 2012- some time after Mass Attack came out. I had this AU at the time where each of the 10 Kirbies from Mass Attack had their own personality trait from the original Kirby, and a permanent copy ability assigned to them. Hence the Spark Kirby having wings and a halo like in the game- where you get damaged and have to rescue the poor Angel Kirbies before you lose that life!

Also my Poppy Bro Jr OC that I don’t think I named at the time- but I redrew him recently and named him Allegro the Poppy Bro. I loved drawing his hair and his funny teeth :D

Finally, I redrew just a few of the characters from my old drawings tonight. Just doodling for fun, nothing serious. But it’s something my child self would be happy to know I could do.

Guess I’d better draw all the Dededes that Baby Jojo missed out on drawing!! Thank you to anyone who read to this point. I encourage anyone to draw things that would make their younger, baby self proud of you. ….even though I bet they already are proud of you. <3

Remember, as long as you keep drawing, you’ll improve at your pace! Just keep at it! You’ll notice that difference over the years!

[multifandomfreakshow-n-co]

Mmm pasta girl jumpscare! That's right, with my return back to art, so comes Tortellini in another scheduled segment of Pizza Tower Transformations: Tortellini edition! Now with the obligatory fnaf, mascot horror level, Don't make a sound. As you can probably notice, I got inspiration from a certain blue haired girl in your wifi. I guess this would be the temporary transformation that happens after she gets scared-

I tried to make it a bit "Uncanny Valley" seeing that this is animatronic looks a bit too human.(Well as human as it can get in the pizza tower art style???) But anyways, I hope you find enjoyment in my rambles again! This will be the second to last installment of this drawing series I've been doing, but don't worry, another Torrie related drawing project is coming up after we finish up with WAR! So stay tuned for that. In the meantime, a little itty-bitty sprite doodle.

[insert-clever-username-1133]

*burns down building cutely* guys im literally just a girl!!!

welcome to my blog

hi guys!!! im loralai but you can call me lora. this post is a running collection of all my chaos

you guys like lists? good bc that's all ive got for you

~

stuff i do

art

i draw in ibis paint on my phone with a disc stylus and use capcut to edit animatics (which yes, i can still do, despite being in the us). most of my stuff is tagged with either #art or #doodles, rarely both. doodles is my old tag for sketches and... well, doodles. i put everything under the art tag now

writing

i have one published fic right now with another multi chapter on the way and some one shots im going to get to eventually! i don't have an update schedule. im little1133 on ao3

music

if you have perfect pitch talk to me please i need someone who understands the feeling when you get a song stuck in your head and you can't remember what key it's in but all the keys you picture it in sound wrong so now it's in your head but it sounds WRONG

fandoms

epic the musical

this is my main fandom right now! epic has had a huge effect on my life, gotten me back into drawing and writing :) im always down to yap about the babies or read your fic or whatever

i love odypen so so much. also i heard someone use the ship name penelody and that's the prettiest ship name ive ever heard i think. platonic eurypoli is also one of my favs. im a eurylochus defender for life

if you follow me you are big time signing up for epic spam

kotlc

this is my longest-term fandom i think. i love this little fandom so much!! Katie (@ myfairkatiecat , very cool user) got me into it last summer (i know, not very long term for my longest term fandom. im young okay). im a keefe defender (sorry stria) and i love fintan pyren a normal amount. fav ships are sokeefe, dexiana, and fintante! i am a sucker for platonic sophitz. they go well together what can i say

iywalirayhtdwa > wiityispb

percy jackson / riordanverse

i love love love this series so much. leo is my baby. percabeth should be called smartwater for ever and ever. i don't participate in this fandom because i learned my lesson from kotlc about joining the fandom before you're done reading and ive already gotten spoiled enough just from random youtube comments. am i really going to abstain from this fandom until ive read all however many series there are? probably not

greek mythology in general

dnd

yeah... right above this is percy jackson and epic the musical. you knew this was coming. im rapidly turning into the greek mythology kid. it's bad.

hadestown

i listened to the soundtrack with animatics a bit ago and im planning on watching a recording of the actual show. this musical has already. made me. FEEL THINGS. A LOT. doubt comes in absolutely broke me which im sure isn't a surprise to anyone who's seen hadestown. just like in epic Hermes is a whole vibe and a half. living it up on top, chant, and why we build the wall have alternated being played on loop in my brain. this musical is literally so.

im currently playing in a dnd campaign (#ivanna) as an elven wizard named Ivanna and in the late planning stages of dming a campaign (#crossfire campaign) for me and my friends. im unwell about both of these things

mouthwashing

i... don't have much to say about this fandom. im not very active in it. love the fanart. love daisuke and anya ofc. we be taking responsibility with this one

elnea kingdom

i don't really post about this game on here because the fandom is mainly on Reddit. this is here purely for propaganda. look up this game and play it. you know you want toooo ohh you wanna play it soooo baaaad

posts i want you to see

too lazy to do this list rn. im gonna link the seaglass vacker eyes post, the Ody is the short one in odypen, and some of my top posts later

tags ig

#art - self explanatory.

#bookmark - things I'm saving to refer back to later.

#liveblog - ive been doing this less lately but it's always a tradition for me to do at least a few liveblogs whenever im consuming a new media. i love this tag because it contains my magnum opus: my huge reblog chains with every little thought i had while reading kotlc. all of them have like 40 self reblogs to just add to them. there's a chain for each book, and i did it for the first like 5 or 6 books. i highly recommend looking at those they're very funny.

userboxes + other

i don't have a dni. if i don't like you ill block you

im not donating to your gofundme

my interests are subject to change on a whim with zero warning

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s2 episode 2 "the host" thoughts

woohoo! we are back for another s2 moment! each night i do my duolingo and then have mulder and scully time <3

so we open on a boat which is already awful. boats are lowkey horrific. and something grabs a man working on the sewage and pulls him under. what the hell! worst case scenario on MANY fronts

then we see our good friend mulder who is listening to audio recordings. and boy was this a scene, because he had sunflower seeds everywhere, cartons of takeout scattered, a million empty cans and cups, and a page of little doodles. all while he sits in the dark.

i figured perhaps this was the squalor of the single man apartment, but no! someone opens a door and light pours in, and tells him he has to leave and someone else will take over his case. and that poor man gets forced into his disgusting space. truly the king of not giving a fuck. please try and give one fuck for me mulder

skinner moves him to a murder case in new jersey and he's all "but why did skinner want MEEEEE"

anyway he goes into the sewers, which are thankfully now free of eugene tooms due to the hard work of that one escalator... everybody say thank you escalator... and he finds a body and says send that back to the FBI

mulder busts into skinner's office to yell at him while he was IN A MEETING oh mulder!!! i get ur mad but have some decorum! he's like WHY are you wasting my time! well mulder if you want to work your way back up the ladder i think screaming at ur boss is not a good place to start!

(we also see that skinner's first name is walter and that he has a picture of bill clinton on the wall which i know made sense at the time but in 2024 it's just really funny. there's old willy looking over business)

cutscene to mulder Pondering in the dark and look! enter our dear friend scully!

"is this seat taken?" she asks "no, but i should warn you i'm experiencing violent impulses" he replies. "well, i'm armed, so i'll take my chances" she answered, and i audibly said "AWWW" <3 how sweet

he says he wants to leave the bureau! but she is his only reason to want to stay! gasp! we are gonna have to unpack that later!

she's like but you have a body right...? can i see the body....? can i pls pls pls pls be involved in ur case?

girl's night: autopsy edition! this body was quite decomposed and it had me wondering how exactly they film these scenes, and while i was pondering the process of making a prop body, we hear a loud thunk of scully removing the dude's rib cage to which i nearly fainted but we were Fine it's okay

and i'm holding my breath trying to deal with seeing this dude's insides when we get a WORM JUMPSCARE crawling about in his corpse

back in new jersey we see more sanitation workers and another man getting pummeled by the sewer beast... have we considered giving these men a raise?

the man has a nasty wound and i wrote "i am not built for this" in my notes but mulder strolls into the doctor's office while he's being checked out to investigate... we see the wound that the sanitation guy thinks is a snake that got into the sewers... and i'm thinking that doesn't sound right but i don't know enough about sewers to dispute that information

scully calls and he has to hang up and he gets ANOTHER call and picks up like "scully not now >:(" BUT THE GAG IS... it isn't her... it's some guy saying he has a friend in the FBI....... um

scully has mulder come down to the lab to show off the worm she found and give the audience a nice PSA to not eat raw meat! thank you dr. scully! we then get some worm facts and she seems pleased

BUT MULDER IS MEAN and he accuses her of being responsible for the phone call and she looks so hurt! she says she wouldn't betray his confidence by talking about him wanting to leave! mulder i get that you're in your questioning era but literally one episode ago she picked up your mostly dead body from a jungle compound so?? let's be rational here???

the next scene involved blood coming out of sanitation man's mouth and mostly what i wrote at this point was a few variations of "AUGH" "i cannot look" and "cannot handle this"

at the sanitation plant they capture whatever this Thing is and oh my. well. all i can really think of are those fake mermaids. you know the barnum fake mermaid hoax? or is that too 19th century niche? well either way, it looks like that but Worse. and equipped with suckers. it's a gnarly beast to gaze upon and i wrote more "AUGH"s here

cutscene to scully on a computer reading worm facts. back when you used a big ol computer to research creatures. i miss the 90's (disclaimer: i was not alive for them at all)

mulder lets her see the creature (which they have put in a mental hospital?) and she is SO excited to see this sort of beast BUT she figured out it was connected to the first attack because someone slipped a magazine article with a hint under her door!!!! looks like there really is someone on the inside...

she also says "i'd consider it more than a professional loss if you decided to leave" WAHHHHHHH <- me crying like a baby at this line

mulder's sitting in skinner's office like a kid stuck in detention and skinner says they're gonna prosecute the worm monkey baby thing and i nearly cried at the mental image of putting that beast on trial. skinner was like "you want to put it in the zoo?" I fear that's far more reasonable.....????? like how is he gonna testify he's WORM MONKEY BABY THING

mulder is again very pissed off and tells skinner that they could have saved the second man (who died in the shower while i was looking away from his bleeding) because he had agents who could have handled it but he shut the x files down and skinner is like. i know. but i was just following orders... tea....

okay so i THOUGHT the worm monkey was baby sized but now they're taking him somewhere else and he is full man sized... but he breaks out of his restraints, we hear a gunshot, and he escapes into a toilet... NO, i yelled to the sanitation worker on my screen, THE WORM IS INSIDE (he couldn't hear me)

mulder's at the scene and gets another mysterious phone call telling him he CANNOT mess this case up because there needs to be undeniable proof the x files must come back... okay no pressure!

so the worm monkey is somewhere in the sewer plant and scully calls like "i think the little worm we found was a baby and it's looking for a place to lay its eggs so we CANNOT let it escape"

(mulder and another worker go into the sewers without any sort of worm monkey handling equipment, idk i was thinking a shotgun might be appropriate here. like what did they think they were gonna do? wrestle it?)

the other worker falls in so NATURALLY our hero mulder (who is still a hero even if he has been cranky af lately) jumps in after him

and mulder GUILLOTINES the worm monkey in what can only be described as an average fox w 🔥🔥

at the end we see scully and mulder once again meet on a public bench in the dark, where she shares that the genetic testing proved that this thing was actually a mixture of human and worm that came from radioactive waste at chernobyl??? so. that's fucked up. haven't they suffered enough.

(but i like that this is a monster made possible by humans and yet still very real, even if that seems... an unlikely story... still, for dana scully's sake i'm happy this is something that can be proved by Science)

((although i hate to know what the implications are for the chernobyl dogs in this universe...))

we end with a shot of worm monkey baby, who has been split in half, re-opening its eyes. now i do think sea worms can sometimes grow back so this isn't SHOCKING. but it is displeasing nonetheless.

overall, listen; mulder, you've had it rough. they've slashed your life's work and you doubt reality. but man. clean your desk up. be nice to scully. skinner is clearly on ur side. i need to shake his stupidly tall frame and knock some sense into him. that beautiful woman wants to tell you worm facts and you should be writing it all down intently.

(good angst though, love that she's the only reason he wants to stay. and love her little autopsy time <3)

[timbit-robin-art]

aside from DC and marvel, from what I mostly seen on your page, what other show, comic, games, ect are you into?

Maybe it’s because it’s really late right now, but I find it funny that I open the app and caught someone in real time sending an ask. Imagine me reaching through the screen and grabbing at you. Gotcha.

So, while you can get a general sense of what other things I’m in to from my little Meet the Artist doodle (pinned post), the icons are a bit small so only eagle-eyed fans can spot their silly little interests. So I can get into it a bit.

I’ll get it out of the way that I generally like anime a lot. I have a love-hate relationship with a lot of it, like Naruto and Attack on Titan, but there’s some a fully love. Houseki no Kuni is one of my favorites. Though I’ve found the most rewatchable anime for me are the goofier ones, like Attack Junior High, Saiki K, Life Lessons With Uramichi Oniisan, Buddy Daddies, and (my most recent favorite) Monthly Girls Nozaki Kun. There’s a lot more that I like, it’s just we’d be here a while.

(Fun fact: my all-time favorite anime character is Hideyoshi Nagachika from Tokyo Ghoul.)

Then there’s the reoccurring Calvin and Hobbes that I’ve mentioned a couple of times here. It’s how I learned how to read.

I really like FNAF, but only 1 and 2. I also like drawing them in an 80s cartoon style, like the Garfield and Friends cartoon (another thing I like). While we’re talking about cartoons, I really like Looney Tunes, Animaniacs, Pink Panther, Scooby Doo (of all varieties), and a lot more.

Back on horror, many people don’t take me for the type, but I really like it. It ranges from Saw, Resident Evil, Faith: Unholy Trinity, The Walter Files, Marble Hornets, and much more.

I guess other things I find worth mentioning are Star Wars, Detroit: Become Human, Sonic, Psych, Voltron, Fire Emblem, rhythm games, and (arguably the most important) Ninjago. Edit: I just remembered another important one, and that’s Dino Squad. I’m also a big history fan, but I don’t know how you guys would feel about Lafayette fan art.

You will sometimes get a rare non-DC/Marvel drawing from me, but I try to space it out, as I know people see me as the DC/Marvel art blog. And I don’t say that as a bad thing, either. DC/Marvel is my number one hyperfixation, closely followed by Ninjago. I have been obsessed with these things since I was very young, and that means I’m also cursed with making art of them.

(But that won’t stop me from cursing you with my other interests every now and then, mwah ha ha.)

I hope this answers your question. Sorry if it might not be coherent. It’s very late, and I’m a yapper.

[banirakurimu]

“ Where’s Burning Spice ? “

*points to Burning Spice shaped ice cube*

The lighting was atrocious I tried my best to edit the picture to make it look better 🙃

also y’all already know your girl didn’t look up a ref for the axe again I’m just quirky like that🤪

and ignore the white stuff I messed up some of the library and had to use white paint in place of white out that’s why some parts look weird :/

a close up on somethings since it’s kinda hard to see, his face and BS ice cube ^^

this doodle took a bit, I put him in pants cause I didn’t want the kimono to cover his legs as I was proud of the pose, but I think he looks quite cute and did another doodle of him in those pants

I forgor his back wings in both pics oops 😬

anywho, I’ve been doodling him more today, so expect more pics later :P

[basofy]

rambling time

.

.

ive encountered many points of view that imply that the player's feelings over the garth jack scene do not matter, but i can't distract my brain from the possibility that yes, it does

one of these that haunt me severely and i made a doodle reminiscent of this is, the fact that brad does not get to know of this happening. he only checks the mags after but we don't know his impression of them, he might've not thought much about them. this is between garth, jack, and the only other person watching (the player)

the fact that there isn't any mention of the events of this scene after this. this is what initially infuriated me, i didnt know if the intention was to make it matter to us or not, it felt like not. there's no more mention of it, no changes to the characters save for, maybe, your perception of them after this. but that's the thing, and maybe, leaving some stuff up to you is the way to make it connect with you, (this takes me back to there being so much about lisa that was either unexplained or not too developed, and how this served as a way for fans to connect with her more). rather than it being the game distancing from you it's putting this scene in your hands as in 'here, i trust you with this'. it's not going to tell you to care, it's trusting that you will

i keep thinking about how one of the motivating factors for the definitive edition were lisa and buddy, for austin realized the fandom was unsatisfied with how their characters were handled, and he himself admitted to not be proud either. so he knew how much these 2 girls and their circumstances mattered to lisa fans, and a big part of the new content went into humanizing them (better done wit lisa than buddy imo but anyway) part of it also went into expanding brad's character more as well. so i'm thinking, if with this scene austin decided to create another victim, it feels like he's handling us this scene and trusting us with it

that and his words about finding something worthwhile in all the tragedy. finding something worth pointing out, worth caring about in a very uncomfortable 3 minutes scene that's got no more mention of it after it happens.

if this doesnt end up being the case, and he wrote it very carelessly, well it ends up being hilarious that the scene turned out deep on accident. but i've talked about it with friends multiple times, and some of them have commented on the way it's written, it being 'carefully crafted' and after finding the other stuff in the games (stuff that's always been there) that ties perfectly to this interaction i can't get the thought out of my mind that this thang can't be just a joke, that the player is supposed to care at least a little

[sydneyofalltrades]

RTC headcanons: Ricky Edition!

Ricky loves reading science fiction. If it wasn’t obvious, he enjoys getting lost in a good book and finding his way out of it with the characters

Ricky is a maladaptive daydreamer, and would frequently zone out in class, especially when he already knew the concept, and he’ll always be daydreaming during choir practice, giving people the assumption that he’s not all there in terms of brains

Ricky is wicked intelligent. His parents wanted him to be book smart even if he couldn’t speak, so they fed his curiosity and desire to learn by helping him learn to read and if he isn’t reading, he’s probably being forced to do something by Ocean’s command

He knows both American Sign Language and his parents’ version of sign language. So he often jokes that he’s bilingual. Constance finds it hilarious, but Ocean just has that motherly “oh yes, that’s wonderful, dear” attitude

Ricky’s love language is drawing for people. He draws for Connie and she loves everything he gives her. He drew for Ocean like one time, but he does draw for Noel and Mischa, mainly for Mischa just cats in traditional Ukrainian outfits. Mischa has never thrown away a single picture

Ricky is paler than most people. It’s just his natural skin tone and it gives him a slightly sickly appearance, but he’s actually very healthy

He hates assumptions. People always, always, always assume he’s a tragic case or a disfigured person but he’s just a guy who loves cats and space. He never assumes much about anyone, just loves

Ricky and Penny became fast friends. Penny enjoys signing with Ricky, Ricky enjoyed having another person to talk to. He sat next to her when they were riding the Cyclone and felt oddly connected to the girl with a doll’s head

Ricky has two mobility aids, crutches and a wheelchair. The wheelchair is usually used for when he’s just around town and he uses it more than the crutches, which he only uses when he needs to be transported somewhere quickly

For the most part, how Ricky and Noel became friends was by random chance. Noel was sitting out the gym class in first grade because he didn’t want to be all sticky and sweaty, and Ricky, who couldn’t participate, was doodling. Ricky drew Noel and wrote a little note and Noel loved his art so much. They both watch horror/sci-fi movies on weekends

Ricky is non-binary and he uses he/they pronouns. He’s also pansexual and has had a crush on everyone in the choir at least once

Mischa actually opened up to Ricky first. He knew he couldn’t talk so he sent him a note saying “you’re the cat guy, right? I think your art is awesome :)” Ricky loved that note, he still has it tucked away in his sketchbook

As Ricky was dying, they felt less scared than the rest of them, yes, it was terrifying, but he felt like his time in Earth wouldn’t be that long anyway

Ricky still watches over Penny after she came back to life. In a way, she feels his presence and knows he’s there, even if she can barely remember who they were

[katherineholmes]

2, 3, 5, 6, 9, 18, 19!

2. a compelling argument for why your fave would never top or bottom

Well, I don't see Elijah ever agreeing to bottom. He has those soft dom vibes going on, the casual condescension, the mocking, just general Elijah fuckery as Feral said recently. He has control issues, not as bad as Klaus, but he wants to control every piece on the board, he wants to be the one to solve the problems, he was put into the role of protector/caretaker a long time ago, and he both wants and needs it. So I can't see him bottoming, the only time it might happen is if Elena is topping from the bottom (which is pretty much how their dynamic is anyway.)

3. screenshot or description of the worst take you've seen on tumblr

I've already answered that here.

5. worst discord server and why

Uhhh, there was a dark fic server that I was a part of for a while, where the mod just went crazy. He wouldn't enable emoticons or sending media in channels and we had to ask him every single time. And then he got into a fight with another member on the server, and started mocking anyone who tried to explain her point in the argument.

It was weird, when I pointed out that his behaviour was childish and unacceptable, he said 'lol', so I left, and we all made our own server.

6. which ship fans are the most annoying?

Nian - I still see edits of those two, and how they should be together. It was so toxic when s6 of TVD was filming and airing, honestly just terrible. A makeup artist came forward and said Nina was pushed into a corner by Ian, death threats were sent to Nikki Reed, YT edits were made, an entire section of fans wished Ian would leave Nikki to be with Nina. All three of them were pitted against each other in every permutation and combination, it got so bad that Ian Somerhalder has openly discussed his dislike for the section of fans who harassed his wife to that extent, and I don't blame him.

9. worst part of canon

I've already mentioned the sire bond in a different ask, so it's going to be the Travellers because wtf was that. Even now, I don't understand what their motive was. I mean what is it with the TVD writers and their inability to write romance? Want Delena together - sire bond, want Stelena together - mystical doppelgänger soulmates.

I'm also not a fan of the fact that they made Stefan a doppelgänger, they had extremely compelling doppelgängers in the form of Katherine and Elena and yet, instead of showing them bond or work together we get them fighting over a guy, I mean, why? Just why?

18. it's absolutely criminal that the fandom has been sleeping on...

Tyler/Jeremy - Those two had chemistry, they hated each other, they fought each other, but Jeremy is extremely sympathetic towards Tyler when he learns that his dad is abusive. I will die on this hill, but Jeremy should've been the one to help Tyler through his werewolf transition.

It should've been Jeremy doodling nonsense to keep Tyler's spirits up, it should've been Jeremy in the cellar, helping Tyler during the first full moon, it should've been Tyler getting Damon to back off from Jeremy, it should've been Jeremy, Tyler and Elena bonding on movie nights. The chemistry between Tyler and Jeremy is fire, they are tortured artists, grieving, their lives upended by the supernatural even though they aren't directly related to it. I need more Tyler and Jeremy (and I'm going to write it into one of my fics too).

19. you're mad/ashamed/horrified you actually kind of like...

Lucien Castle. I was always a bit indifferent towards him, until he killed my girl Cami, then I hated him. But even on rewatch, knowing what he's done, I'm still a bit intrigued about him. I've recently been analysing his character a bit for a fic, and I can't help but like him. He's a little like Klaus, but he's so compelling just as he is, which is a shame, because all he wants to be is like Klaus.

I still believe he had a lot of potential, even more than what they had showed. He's the true beginning of the downfall of the Mikaelsons, and he's creepy af, not to mention what he did to Cami. But truly, he works for hundreds of years just to take the Mikaelsons down, and actually succeeds, even Klaus is running scared of him. Even if he died, the damage was done.

[dreamescapeswriting]

BTS Reaction ||You’re A Kids Illustrator/Writer [Request]

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - June 2022

⤜MASTERLIST

A/N: I hope this is okay for you my love!! @the-wretched-and-joyful​

SEOKJIN:

Whenever you had a signing and Jin was away he tried to send surprises to you at every event. It was always flowers or gifts from him with a card telling you how sorry he was for not being able to make it. Your schedules always seemed to clash with one another, while he was working so were you but it also meant that when neither of you was working you could spend time together.

"Who shall I write this to?" You questioned, looking at the little girl in front of you as she began to tell you her name, you wrote her a message and assigned a little doodle beside it. 

"Have a great day, sweetie." You told her with a giant smile before she hugged you and ran away to her mum. You smiled warmly before turning to look at the next person who was standing in front of you but all you saw were a giant bouquet of flowers.

"Let me guess...from Jin?" You giggled standing up and going to reach for the card when the flowers were moved to the table and you saw your boyfriend standing in front of you.

"Jin?!" You squealed, wrapping your arms around him from across the table and whining a little.

"Surprise," He whispered as he pressed his lips against your shoulder, by now the tears were streaming down your cheeks as you kept yourself pressed against him firmly. It must have seemed weird to others but you didn't care. All you'd ever wanted was for Jin to join you at a signing and now it was finally happening. 

"Thank you," You whispered as he pulled back and slowly began to make his way behind the table so that he could sit with you.

YOONGI:

One of Yoongi's favourite things about your job was that it didn't matter where the two of you went together, there were always going to be little kids that came up to speak to you. Their parents apologising profusely as you promised them that it wasn't that big of a deal, 

"Which is your favourite?" You asked a little boy as you signed one of the books for his mum, he smiled up at you before pointing at the one in front of you. 

"He gets me to read it to him at least three times a day," His mother blushed as you smiled and slid the book back to her, 

"Do you wanna know a secret?" You asked the little boy as he began nodding his head, Yoongi let out a small chuckle as you leaned in close to him.

"I'm working on another one just like this," You told him as he began jumping up and down excitedly. Yoongi loved seeing the way you were with kids, it honestly made him more excited for your future together. He couldn't wait to see what you would be like when the two of you eventually had your own kids together. 

"You okay?" You smiled looking back over to your boyfriend who was blushing a little at the tiny interaction you'd had with the small human, 

"Perfect, you're perfect." He smiled before lifting your hand to his lips and kissing it softly, making your whole body heat up.

HOSEOK:

"I'm telling you, that the character is you." That was all you heard Taehyung say as you walked into the dorm's living room. All of the boys were gathered around the coffee table looking down at your latest release,

"It's a kid's book, it could be anyone." Hoseok gushed as he tried not to blush too much at the thought of you characterising one of your book characters after him.

"You look alike! You even have the same personality trait and his superpower is being able to brighten someone's day...If that's not you, I don't know what is," Yoongi said as he popped some popcorn into his mouth, you laughed a little sitting down beside your husband and looking at the illustration you had done for your book. They were looking at the first edition, you'd brought it for everyone to see since they were always excited to see your work.

"It is you," You told Hoseok as you nudged him softly, 

"I had to have you in the books," You smiled as you flipped toward the back of the book and showed him that his name was in the back where the acknowledgements went thanking him for being a creative inspiration. 

"Whoa," Hoseok whispered as you let a small giggle go and pressed a kiss to his cheek, his smile brightening even more as he continued to look through the book to spot if there was anything else like him about the character.

NAMJOON:

It was just like Namjoon to have every single copy of the books you'd written over the years and there were a lot. Almost forty-five of them to be exact, all written and illustrated by you.

"What's that in the back?" Namjoon asked as you looked up to your phone, you were in your home studio watching Namjoon doing a V-Live for ARMY. 

"They're my favourite books," He said as he started to get up and walk over to the shelf, your heart thumping rapidly as you saw him pick out around ten different books and came back to the camera. You knew them as soon as you saw them in his hands, each of them were his all-time favourite books that you'd written.

"You all know about the author," He told them as he began to go through each of the books, telling them why it was his favourite out of all of the books that you had written.

"I'm trying to convince Yn, that they need to write about us one day in their books." He said with a smile since he knew you were already watching. It was the one thing he'd always been suggesting to you whenever you struggled for ideas, 

"It would be cute, I'm glad everyone agrees!" He chuckled before continuing to show off the books as well as reading extracts to everyone during the Live.

JIMIN:

"What are you doing?" You laughed as you watched Jimin standing by the door to your home studio, he only ever did this when he wanted to get a look at your work. You'd been together for four years now and he was always so excited and proud whenever you told him you were going to be working on something.

"Nothing." He said a little too quickly for it to be "nothing" like he said.

"Yeah, sure." You laughed opening the door and standing aside so he could walk inside. You knew what he wanted to do. It was all he ever wanted to do when he knew that you were working on something new.

"You know I love coming in here," He whined a little as he walked over to your desk where you were working on a few different drawings for the newest book that was being released.

"Are these the final sketches?" He questioned looking down at everything, he didn't touch a single thing not wanting to mess anything up for you.

"Yeah, I'm just stuck on deciding to make him have green or blue hair," You admitted as you carefully set down the mug of tea on the countertop and showed Jimin the different versions of the characters you were working on. It didn't matter if it was a simple hair colour or show preference Jimin always wanted to help out in any way that he could...If it also meant he got to take a quick look at the story. 

"Blue," He told you as you took a note of him and smiled at him, his eyes staring around at everything inside of the room.

"Have I ever told you how proud I am of you?"

"Almost every day," You felt your body heating up as he wrapped an arm around you, kissing your cheek softly. 

"Unbelievably proud." He whispered softly. 

TAEHYUNG:

It didn't matter if it was a small meeting or a signing Taehyung went with you to every event that was being held for you or with you. He was always gushing to anyone that he could find about how proud he was of you or even telling them to check out your books.

"Tae," You whined as he just gave a copy of one of your books to some elderly couple and their granddaughter who had been walking by you in a coffee shop,

"What? I was just being nice," He chuckled as you shook your head at him. You didn't know what was more surprising, that he had just given a copy of a book to a random family or that he was carrying more than one copy of your books on him.

"Why do you even have all of those?" You questioned as you leaned over the table to take a quick look inside his bag,

"In case we see a fan and they want one of your books, or...Or in case we're walking by a book store and someone notices you and wants a special reading," You shook your head at him, all of them insane reasons but it was one of the things you loved about him. He was always willing to do things like this to help get your books into the market and more well known in the media. But to you it didn't matter how many sales you got or if a lot of people knew your name, you were just happy bringing joy to those who did read and enjoy your books.

JUNGKOOK: 

"Kookie!" You practically screamed as you saw the clingfilm around his thigh, your eyes widening as you finally got a glimpse of the tattoo. That morning he told you he was going out to get another tattoo and you figured it would be something cool but this was insane.

"Do you like it?" He asked as he carefully removed the clingfilm to give you a better look at what was tattooed on his thigh. It was there in black ink, one of the characters from the first kid's book you'd ever drawn. 

"Jungkook, this is single-handedly one of the most romantic and yet insane things you have ever done," You gasped out as you carefully ran the tips of your fingers across the fresh ink making him smirk proudly at you. It was the character he loved the most in your books and he always told you he was going to get a tattoo of some of your work. You just never had believed him until now.

"But do you like it?" He was beginning to get a little nervous as he watched you,

"I love it." You laughed shaking your head as you stood up on your tip toes to kiss him softly on the lips, whining a little as he kissed you back and pulled you closer.

"I'm never going to get over it," You told him as your eyes went back down to the ink and gasping a little, it was incredible but Jungkook wanted to show you and the world how much he loved you and your work.

Tagline: @lyoongx​ @mitzwinchester​ @rjsmochii​ @taestannie​ @sw33tnight​ @sweeneyblue1​ @agustdjoon​ @jin-from-the-block​ @acciocriativity​ @mwitsmejk​ @taeechwitaa​ @justbangtanthingz​ @stillwithlix​ @kookiekuu​ @lolalee24​ @hopeworldd-2​ @totallynoanalien​ @yubinism​ @ethereallino​ @heyjiminnie​ @aerastus​ @tinyoonsblog​ @cherrybubblesandvodka​ @kimahnjung98​ @halesandy​ @snigdha-14​