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comicaurora · 1 day ago
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So uhh. If you feel like talking about it. As someone who lives in the US, how are you being kind to yourself on this upsetting morning <3
Checked in with my loved ones first and foremost.
It's interesting. The vibe I've been getting from my circle is very different from 2016. Much less… dread and horror at a realignment of the understanding of what can and can't happen here, now, in this place and day and age. More "fuck, guys. again? whatever. enjoy your consequences, maybe you'll manage to learn something this time."
Frustration and anger is not the most positive feeling, or even the most fair one to express, but it is a protective one. It hurts a lot less than most alternatives.
And it's quite a shift. It was earthshattering back then. How could this have been allowed to happen? Why couldn't it be stopped? Why couldn't we stop it? Why couldn't I stop it? Why couldn't everyone see what this meant? Why couldn't I make them understand? Did they really not care? What did that mean about humanity as a whole? Were we so thoughtless? How could anyone be trusted?
It seems… much less earthshattering to see it happen twice. Disappointing, sure. Frustrating. But nowhere near as devastating as the first time I saw it unfold. We already knew it could happen. I've already had time to digest the implications. Now I'm just freshly disappointed.
It also feels less indicative of Crushing Truths Of Reality this time. We've seen shit get bad. We've also seen shit get better from here! We know both outcomes are possible, even inevitable. We know hoping for a better future is always worthwhile. This isn't the apocalypse. It's an unremarkably bad turn of events brought on by unremarkably self-centered well-documented human impulses. It's utterly mundane in its unpleasantness. It doesn't need to be dignified with despair.
A democratic election, no matter the outcome or the side we're on, makes us all acutely aware of how outnumbered we are by people whose worldviews and priorities are demonstrably incomprehensible to us. And the first time you get outnumbered, it's a shock. Defeat is haunting. It didn't matter how badly you wanted it; by the very function of democracy, you do not have the power to override greater numbers. (insert electoral college caveat here)
The second time through, I find myself focusing on a different facet that has dramatically reduced the amount of spiralling I'm doing. I don't expect this to work for everyone, but for me specifically, it helped to crystallize a few thoughts:
You don't have the power to control anyone else. You don't. You can't share your worldview and your revelations with them. You can't make them think or understand anything. You can lay it all out for them, but you can't make them listen, and you can't make it click. A mentor can't make their student learn a lesson; that's why teaching is so complicated and hard. An active choice must be made by the person to enable themselves to understand, and they must put the pieces together in their own mind before it makes sense to them, and the pieces must have been presented in a way that makes sense to them in the first place. Lead a horse to water, can't make them drink.
These elections highlight a disconnect in what different groups of people care about; and no matter how clearly you explain yourself or how passionately you perform, caring cannot be forced on someone. Understanding and connection cannot be forced. You cannot make anything or anyone matter to someone. They have to choose to see how it matters in order to internalize it. If they choose not to, that is not your failing. You couldn't have made them do it by just Explaining Better. They are not your responsibility. They make their own choices. You can't reach inside their head and connect the dots for them.
I'm a storyteller. I make stories and put them out into the world. I hope people get something good out of them, but I have no control over what that something is. I want people to be thoughtful and kind and compassionate and hopeful and see themselves reflected in stranges, no matter their differences. I can craft stories that I hope encourage this. But that is the extent of my ability and the extent of my responsibility. I control no-one's actions but my own, and so while I am not having the best day, I am at least content that I am doing what I can, and I am not shattering myself against impossibilities trying to control the things I can't.
Sometimes, people make decisions that I think are really bad. I can't make that not happen. All I can do is try to make decisions that will result in things I think are good. Today, that means checking in on people, and not assigning too much dramatic narrative weight to an ultimately mundane set of unremarkable bad decisions outside of my control. We'll take life as it comes and help each other out when and how we can. Everything else is out of our hands.
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aperrywilliams · 3 days ago
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Tin Wedding (Spencer Reid x ExWife!Reader)
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Author Masterlist | Event Masterlist
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x ExWife!Reader.
Summary: You've become friends with Penelope Garcia over the past year, and after much insistence from her, you agreed to visit her at her office one day. What you didn't expect was to run into your ex-husband there. And surely you didn't expect that he - Spencer Reid - is Penelope's coworker.
Word Count: 7.2k (please, stop me!)
Warnings: Yes. I set this one as +16. Mention of Reader being drunk. Curses and some strong words. Mention of sex - oral (m&f). Nothing detailed. IDFK anything about the US marriage and divorce system.
A/N: 2nd Fic for the "We are not gonna make it" writing challenge I was hosting during October with my sis @babymetaldoll. I'm so sorry for the delay, but life has crushed me these past weeks.
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The ding of the elevator signals you are already on the sixth floor. The doors open, and the first thing you see are people going and coming. It's the bustling of a lively office at noon. But this is not just any office; this is the FBI headquarters in Quantico. You never thought you would be in a place like this in your life, but here you are after your friend Penelope convinced you to visit her at work after insisting for weeks.
BAU - Behavioural Analysis Unit reads the glass doors in front of you. This is the place. Looking at the scattered desks on the open floor, you look for a clue that leads you to Penelope.
People walk past you without paying much attention. Maybe you should ask for help. But before you can decide to do so, a voice behind your back breaks you out of your thoughts.
"Can I help you?"
You know that voice. You're sure of that. But wait. It can't be—not after years of not hearing it.
You slowly turn around just to confirm that your suspicions are correct. Standing in front of you is a curious Spencer Reid, who pales when he sees your face. He remembers you, too.
"Oh God, Spencer?"
A stupid question with an obvious answer, but that doesn't take away the surprise of coming face to face with someone you never thought you'd see again in your life.
"(Y/N)? Wow..."
Time has passed, you tell yourself. Spencer looks more grown up. His hair is a little shorter, and he doesn't look so skinny anymore; it even seems there's some muscle under the white shirt he sports. Some stubble adorns his face, and dark circles can be seen under his eyes. But his beautiful eyes are the same as you remember them from when you first met in Pasadena.
"What are you doing here?" You ask, still shocked. Spencer's expression seems pretty much the same as yours.
"Uh. Well, I work here," he explains after clearing his throat.
A Caltech's genius working with the FBI? You wouldn't have expected it. But then again, you didn't expect to cross paths with him after all this time. "And what are you doing here?"
Good point. Why did you come? Oh, yes. Penelope Garcia.
"I'm here to see a friend," you mumble. Spencer's confused look changes to what? Disappointment? Of course, you're not there for him. It's stupid ever to think that, considering you haven't talked since the day you said goodbye and parted ways in that tiny apartment you shared in Pasadena.
And then an awkward silence. What are the chances that after so long, you were going to meet Spencer? And if you're wondering how long, we're talking about ten years when you were both pursuing your degrees at Caltech. In your case, it was the first one because Spencer was already in his third PhD when you met.
Before you can say something else, the one and only Penelope Garcia burst into the room, looking for you.
"There you are! Why didn't you call me when you got here?"
Totally unbeknown to the tense silence, she steps in front of you and hugs you. You can feel Spencer's confused look on you. "I'm glad you made it! We have so much to talk about."
"Garcia is your friend?" Spencer asks, gaze on you, and it's when you realize how weird the situation is. Penelope turns to him, an eyebrow furrowed.
"Of course, I'm her friend. And she came to see me," Garcia scoffs until she realizes something. "Wait a minute. For what reason would you ask that?"
Spencer clears his throat. He doesn't know what your opinion is about people knowing that fact.
"We know each other," you explain to her before asking. "How do you know Spencer?"
"No way! What a coincidence!" Garcia chirps. The exclamation raises the interest of the people entering the bullpen. Some of them approach to where you all are. "Reid? We work together!"
What were the chances of something like that happening to you, you wondered, as Spencer continued to stare at you, his eyes never leaving yours.
"What's happening here, baby girl?" A toned man asks Garcia, who can't contain her excitement.
"Oh, you wouldn't believe it," she announces as two women join the conversation.
Garcia briefly explains to the audience who you are and that she just found out that you both know Spencer, too. After the first impression, she proceeds to introduce you to those there: Derek, JJ, and Emily. From the corner of your eye, you can see Spencer downcasting his look at their curious glances at him.
"So you guys know each other?" JJ asks.
You both nod at the same time as Spencer mutters, "Caltech."
"Ah, fellow grads," JJ assumes. And in part, she is right. Indeed, you met while you were starting your master's degree and subsequent doctorate in the same area as Spencer.
"Kind of," you admit, seeing Spencer's cheeks flush and feeling yours burn too. The guy who was presented as Derek Morgan has a smirk plastered on his face.
"College sweethearts?" Morgan asks in a teasing tone. And he is kind of right, too. You lock eyes with Spencer, and you can't tell if he did or wants to say to his colleagues what you really were at that time. But before you both can even think of saying anything, Garcia's eyes widen in recognition.
"No! Wait a minute! Did you go to college together? You said the other day that you-" she starts connecting information, and you start to freak out internally. Before you can stop her, Garcia blurts. "Oh! Spencer is your ex-husband? You have to be kidding me!"
Shit. How did she figure it out so quickly? Sure, it might be your fault for sharing details about your college love life with her on a night filled with alcohol, but how could you have known she was already acquainted with him? You were careful not to mention any names or specifics, yet here you are.
"Wait, what?" Morgan's smirk turns to jaw slack in astonishment. There is no difference between JJ's and Emily's reactions. Spencer's face is flushed, and so is yours.
"Someone is going to say anything?" Emily asks, bouncing her eyes between you and Spencer.
"Uh, well—" you start, giving Spencer an apologetic look, who returns you an awkward tight-lip smile.
"Yeah. We were married," he confirms.
"When we were at college," you add.
You can feel the heaviness in the air and the mid-surprised, mid-incredulous looks from the people around you. Morgan is the first to break the silence.
"Damn it, pretty boy. What a story you had hidden from us," he says, patting Spencer's shoulder. JJ - the quietest one until now - senses how uncomfortable you and Spencer are with all the attention.
"Guys, why don't we give them a minute?"
After a moment of consideration, Emily seconds the motion. "Yeah, Morgan, would you help me with something?"
"Su- sure," Morgan agrees, still confused but following Emily nonetheless.
"But—" Penelope is still trying to understand the whole situation and has many questions she wants to ask.
"Come on, Garcia. I'm sure (Y/N) will find you when she is ready," JJ encourages, looking at you. That's when you get out of your daze and nod.
"Yes. Yeah. I'll text you, Penelope."
And just like that, the same way people surrounded you just seconds ago, now it's just you, Spencer, and an awkward silence.
"I'm sorry. I didn't know you worked here. I didn't know you were Penelope's coworker, and—" you start to apologize.
"No. Don't. It's not your fault," Spencer rushes to speak.
"I shouldn't have told her about - about," you trail off.
"About you having an ex-husband?" Spencer supplies, and you shyly nod.
"Believe me, it's not a thing I tell everyone I meet, but Penelope, well, she-" you try to find the right words. Spencer nods in understanding.
"Yeah, she can be pretty convincing when she wants to know something."
Another halo of silence passes between you until it's Spencer who breaks it this time.
"So, how have you been? I mean, it's been a while." You nod, still uncomfortable with the situation but just as curious as you assume Spencer is.
"Yeah, it's been a while," you confirm. "Good, all good on my end. Working and living. What about you?"
"Me? Good. Working here at the BAU."
"Cool."
Cool? What does that mean?
A sharp 'Reid' is heard from behind you both, making you turn to the source. A well-dressed man with a serious gaze is looking at Spencer from an office threshold. "Can you come, please?" the man adds. Spencer nods quickly. "Sure. I'll be there in a second, Hotch." The answer seems to satisfy the man, so he nods and returns inside.
Spencer turns to you again. "Uh. I - uh-" he stutters, motioning where the man called Hotch was a second ago.
"Yeah. I have to go, too." You have to, actually, but you don't think you can face Penelope or anyone else right now, for that matter. "It was nice to see you." As you are about to run away subtly, Spencer calls your name. Stopping in your tracks, you turn, and your eyes make contact with his again.
"Would you - uh. Would you like to grab a coffee with me sometime?"
It catches you off guard, but you only assume he's being polite. You think you should return the gesture.
"Sure. Why not," you say, giving him a little smile. "Now I have to go. Bye, Spencer."
And with that, you resume your escape to the elevator.
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From the moment he saw you at the BAU, Spencer has never been the same. He never imagined he would see you again, especially under those circumstances. Spencer was so astonished he wasn't even able to start a decent conversation or even ask for your number after inviting you to a coffee.
Also distressed about the interrogation he knew his colleagues would subject to him, Spencer wanders through the BAU halls as if he were not in the present. And, in fact, he is not. After seeing you, he has only been able to think about you and the years you both spent in Pasadena.
A smile tugs the corners of his mouth every time one of those memories comes to him.
"Okay, pretty boy, spill," Derek prompts when he sees Spencer in the kitchen two days after your encounter.
"Uh? What are you talking about?" he turns, confused, to see Derek looking at him with a frown and arms over his chest.
"Come on! You know what I'm talking about. About the pretty lady, Garcia's friend, who happens to be your ex-wife?"
Spencer huffs through his nostrils.
"I already told you. We met in college, and we were together until we graduated," Spencer says nonchalantly as if it's normal. He tries, at least. Morgan scoffs at his attempt.
"Reid. You married her. You just can't tell me you 'were together' as you're talking about any other relationship. She was important; what happened?"
Morgan remembers well a few years ago when Spencer told him about a great love he had while at Caltech and how, from time to time, those memories would come to plague his head. It wasn't hard for Morgan to connect the dots and assume you were the person Spencer was referring to.
Spencer sighs thoughtfully. "We ended it by mutual agreement. We both knew our career paths were going to be incompatible, and we both had so many dreams to fulfill. Our greatest act of love was letting each other go. At least that's how I saw it for a long time."
"But you regretted it at some point," Morgan adds, and Spencer nods. "Why didn't you try to find her then?"
"I didn't want to be selfish. What if she already had her life going perfectly, and I was just going to show like a kicked puppy? It wasn't fair for her."
"Man, I get it, but what about now? You found each other again. Can it be a kind of sign or something." Spencer glances at Derek with an incredulous look.
"Are you listening to yourself? You sound like Garcia," Spencer grumbles, making Derek laugh.
"Yeah. Definitely, it's something my baby girl would say. But, truly speaking, Reid, why not take a chance?"
Spencer huffs in frustration. "I - I don't know anything about her in these years! I didn't even ask for her number that day. I was frozen on the spot!"
"And that will stop you?"
A satisfactory smirk appears on Derek's face when Spencer stays silent, contemplating his options.
---------
Not wanting to talk about the encounter with anyone, you write to Penelope, apologizing for having to leave suddenly that day. She responds everything is fine and doesn't even ask you why, to which you are tremendously grateful.
But as the days pass by, you know you have to talk to her at some point, so you invite her to come over one afternoon.
You have been thinking a lot and rationalizing everything that happened. Of course, there was always a possibility of crossing paths with Spencer someday, but turning it into reality is different. So you conclude all your nerves were out of the shock of something unprovable happening, not because seeing Spencer after ten years made you fall off your balance.
With that in mind, you were ready to talk to Penelope.
Once she gets to your apartment, you first apologize for leaving that day and explain how you got frozen after the unexpected encounter. Garcia tells you not to worry and even says she is sorry for telling everyone about her discovery without any filter.
"It's just- I was so impressed. I couldn't help it!" she explains, and you nod in understanding.
"It's okay. I guess no one expected something like that."
"Right? But I have to ask. How did Spencer Reid become your husband? I mean, you told me about your ex-husband and all, but I'm sorry, I can't picture Spencer even talking to a girl without stuttering, less asking for marriage, and then divorcing? It's beyond me."
It catches your attention how she talks about him. Although you met Spencer when you both were very young, knowing how shy he was, over time, you managed to beat his barrier and meet a wonderful man full of charisma and not so sheepish after all. Has he never shown that side to anyone else in all these years?
"Why so much interest in my marriage? It's been a decade," you ask Penelope, and her scoff sounds a mix of obvious and disbelief.
"Honey, it's unbelievable Doctor Loving Reid has kept THAT information to himself for so long. So now that it is out, it does pick my full interest. Spill. What happened?"
You shrug your shoulder. "It's like I said the first time I told you. We were young, a whole life ahead. Neither he nor I wanted to cut each other's wings."
"But you loved each other!" Penelope complains with an adorable pout. You have known this woman for what? Less than a year? And she seems brokenhearted about something that happened to you and Spencer ten years ago. She's right, though. You and Spencer were mad in love. Unlike what people have believed for years, your marriage was not a result of a wild night of alcohol and passion in Pasadena. You were both quite sober when you went to court that day. Both even had written down the vows you professed in front of the judge- yours on a piece of paper and Spencer in his brain, of course.
"If it's any consolation, the year we were married, we were very happy," you tell her, fondly remembering that time. Garcia rolls her eyes.
"Well, exactly that's what I mean, miss. If you were so happy, why end it like that?"
The only answer you can think of is 'it's complicated,' but that will surely increase her curiosity.
"We wanted the best for each other, even if it meant being apart. As good rational beings, we weighed our options, and the sensible thing to do was to end it."
Putting it in that way, Penelope can believe it. Having known Spencer for years, she knows for a fact his big brain is capable of analyzing every probability of every possible outcome. What seems incredible to her is how feelings - how love - can be rationalized like this.
A ding from your phone pauses your talk with Penelope. You glance at the device and see a text from an unknown caller.
'Hi. I'm Spencer. I stupidly didn't ask you for your number, so after cursing myself for the past few days, I had to find it out. Don't get mad, please. I would really like to grab a coffee with you if you are up to it. If you don't want to, I understand. And if you don't want me to contact you again, just say the words, and I'll stop. But I really hope you say yes. SR.'
Okay. This is unexpected. Indeed, you remember not having exchanged numbers with Spencer, and you didn't give it much thought either, assuming his invitation had been out of pure kindness. But here you are, reading the message and feeling an emotion you can't describe. Nostalgia, maybe?
You narrow your eyes to Garcia, who immediately suspects who sent you a text.
"Before you ask, I didn't give him your number!" she defends as you breathe a deep sigh.
"He's asking me out for coffee," you tell Garcia, and she can't help but squeal.
"Will you say yes?"
"I don't know. Is it a good idea to get back in touch after all these years?" you muse more for yourself than her.
"Honey, only you know what's best for you, but if you ask me, I remember you telling me after you both split up, you were left with a lot of 'what ifs' in your head, and some of them are still floating around. Maybe this could help clear them up once and for all."
Penelope has a point. But now, you have a dilemma in the form of a coffee invitation.
---------
It's just a coffee. Don't overthink it.
You have been telling yourself that for a while as you walk to the coffee shop where you agreed to meet Spencer today.
He is just being nice.
Sure, after ten years of no contact, this sudden encounter in the FBI - with all his colleagues there - maybe pressured him to invite you to grab a coffee.
Still lost in your thoughts, you don't realize you are already there. After taking a deep breath, you step inside and look around. You spot him in a booth in the corner, back to you. A smile tugs at your lips, remembering all the coffee dates you both had back then. It was your thing. Hours and hours talking about everything and anything until the owner asked you to leave because they needed to close.
"Hey," you greet, making Spencer look up to you.
"Hi," he returns, a smile plastered on his face. "Thanks for accepting my invitation," he gestures for you to sit.
"Sure. Why I wouldn't?" After taking off your coat, you sit in front of him in the booth.
"Yeah. I mean, we haven't talked in ten years. And then we see each other at my work, and- well, it's kind of weird, I guess?"
Weird is an understatement, you think.
"You are right. Kind of it is."
You notice there are two coffee cups on the table. Spencer follows your line of sight.
"Uh- I had ordered already," he points to the coffee in front of you. "I don't know if you have changed your order, though."
"Thanks," you mumble appreciatively. "I haven't changed it, actually."
"Great!"
You try to gauge his expression. Is he nervous? Anxious? Because you are.
"Spencer, if you are uncomfortable, we can just go home. There is no—" You can't finish the sentence before Spencer cuts you off.
"No. No, I'm not. Please, don't think that."
"Okay," you concede. "I won't. But you need to be honest with me, okay?"
"Of course," Spencer agrees.
"You felt obligated to invite me here after what happened?" You bluntly ask, and Spencer's eyes widen.
"What? No, of course not," Spencer immediately denies. "I really wanted to see you. It's just that-" he hesitates. You tilt your head, waiting for him to continue. "I just didn't know if it was right, you know? I mean, we never reach out, and then it happens. We never agreed-" he trails off. And you know exactly what he's talking about.
Back then, when you decided to go separate ways, Spencer asked you what would happen if you met again in the future, and you shook your head, saying it probably wouldn't happen. So yes, you never talked about the possibility, and Spencer understood he should never contact you, and so did you.
"I know. We didn't," you recognize, regret slipping in your voice. "I guess I didn't want to think about the possibility back then."
You two know there are things you left out and left unsaid the last night you were together in Pasadena, but you don't think it's a good idea to say them now—not when this is supposed to be a friendly reunion between exes.
"So, since when have you been working in DC?" Spencer asks after you tell him about your work career on the west side.
"Almost two years," you admit.
Two years living in the same city. Spencer wonders if Garcia hadn't met you, he would have ever seen you again.
Your professional career has certainly been prolific; Spencer can tell after the stories you have been recounting. Years of experience and important jobs, just as you had dreamed when you were in college. These are the same dreams you shared with Spencer during the nights of studying and those where there was everything else but studying.
"I thought you were going to pursue academics. When did the FBI happen?" you ask after saying it's enough of talking about yourself.
"I thought that too. And I did it for a while. Then I met Gideon. He - uh, he showed me what the BAU had been doing, and I knew it was my place to be."
Spencer fondly tells you about his early years working as a profiler and how much he has learned. It seems that, like you, he has found his professional calling.
Two hours and three coffees later, you are both laughing about the weird and funny things you have seen in the past years. It feels good, and much of the initial nervousness has dissipated. But there is one topic you both have actively avoided: romantic relationships.
You are curious about it, and Spencer is, too, but neither of you wants to be the one to mention it first. Spencer is who breaks first.
"Are we going to talk about - about that? I feel we have been dancing about the topic, but I don't know if you want to."
You can't help but snort out of being caught and for the subject itself. You are sure your almost nonexistent love life is enough to make anyone cry or laugh.
"I'm still that obvious?"
"You have your tells," Spencer shrugs. You raise an eyebrow.
"I have my tells? What about you, doctor? You have been bouncing your leg the same way you did the day you defended your engineering PhD dissertation."
Spencer's eyes widen. "You still remember that?"
The insinuation of you forgetting that day makes you scoff.
"Of course I do! I tried everything to try to calm your nerves. Do you remember what I did, and actually, it worked?" Spencer's cheeks redden because he remembers.
You won't tell the details, but you recall, as clear as the day, how you helped him to 'decompress.'
"Okay, okay. Guilty as charged."
"So, what do you want to know?" You ask, still not fully ready but resigned, leaning back in your seat and crossing your arms over your chest.
"Are you with someone?" Spencer asks, and you gasp, feigning surprise.
"No beating around the bushes, uh?"
Spencer's cheeks flush, and he can't help it. "If it's out the line, you don't need to answer."
Seeing him flustered and biting his lower lip makes your heart do flip-flops. It's something you haven't felt in a long time—ten years, to be exact.
"If you had asked me a month ago, I should have said yes."
Indeed, you had a boyfriend until a month ago when his insistence on moving in with you was too much to handle, and his frustrated self decided to say a lot of awful things when you said no to him.
Some people would say you have commitment issues, and maybe you have. But in all honesty, until this day, there is no one you have felt secure enough to take that step.
It's ironic, considering you already have a marriage under your belt.
"I'm sorry," Spencer mumbles.
"No. Don't be. It wasn't meant to be."
'Like I used to think about us,' you want to add, but you refrain. Instead, you explain in not much detail every failed relationship you have had. Spencer listens intently, his heart aching to think of how a part of you might have been broken with each failed relationship. He hasn't done any better, though.
"And that's all. As you can see, there is nothing too exciting to remark," you chuckle to lighten the mood. "Tell me about you. There is a Mrs. Reid waiting at home?"
Spencer snorts, shaking his head. "No. There's no Mrs. Reid. The only one who has held the title has been you," he says with a look that makes your breath hitch in your throat. What is it? Longing?
"Wow. I feel honored," you tease, trying to hide the heat rising to your cheeks.
Spencer tells you about the few relationships he's had over the years. In his own opinion, none of them are very meaningful. When you ask him why, he doesn't hesitate to answer. "This job not only consumes my time, but also a lot of me as a person. Not everyone understands that."
He would like to say no one has ever been so important as to make him doubt continuing to work in what he does. The only person who ever made him doubt was you. But instead of saying it, he prefers to end with a "I guess that's why no one has stayed."
Listening to him talk is like listening to yourself, trying to minimize the fact that professional success is possibly one of the main reasons why other parts of your personal life have never flourished.
It was your choice. You both decided to make it that way. But sometimes you wonder if...
"Do you think we made a mistake?"
Spencer's question gets you out of your thoughts.
You look at him, baffled. "What?"
"Do you think we shouldn't have broken up? That I shouldn't have left?"
You pondered his question for a second. It has to do with how you felt at that time? Or does it have to do with how you felt after or even now?
"Honestly? I don't know, Spencer." A resigned sigh leaves your lips. "I always wanted to think it was the right thing to do."
"You never regretted it?" He asks you, and you shrug, not knowing much to say. Instead, you opt to ask him the question back.
"Did you?"
"Yeah. I did," he admits. "Sometimes I still do."
A heavy silence settles between you. The admission that you both had doubts about the drastic decision you made almost ten years ago is difficult to take. It unfurls a whole new set of questions whose answers you are not sure you are ready to hear or say. But it's only fair he knows your truth as you know his now.
"For what is worth, me too. I regret it. More often than I would like to admit."
Spencer's heart starts to beat faster; breath hitches in his throat for a second.
He tentatively reaches out to rest his hand on yours. You watch the action and think you know what it means. His eyes are hopeful. Something you'd like to mirror in your own, but the uncertainty is there, and you can't help it.
"Spencer, no. Please, don't." You try to articulate but not take your hand away from his. "I wish I could tell you I'm willing to try- to try to make up for lost time, but I can't. Even though it may not seem like it, we're strangers to each other, and I'm not in a place to even think about- you know."
Spencer gives a little squeeze to your hand, nodding.
"I know. And I'm not asking you for us to redo our story and start from where we ended. No. But I would love to get to know you again and be your friend."
"Friends?" You ask, brows furrowed. He smiles.
"Yeah. First and foremost, you were always my best friend. My person. Even if we never get back together as a couple, and we don't have to, I don't want to lose you again."
You take a moment to think about his words. What would be the harm? You're at a stage in your life where you don't want to live thinking about those things you wish you had done and didn't. The things you might have done differently. Why not put reason aside for a moment and just be?
You squeeze his hand back, a sign of yes; you're willing to get to know the Spencer in front of you.
---------
Three months have passed since your conversation with Spencer at the coffee shop. You both agreed to reconnect as friends, which has led to many coffee meetings, lunches, dinners, movie nights, and walks in the park. And to say your heart feels full and happy would be an understatement. You've realized how much of the Spencer you met in Pasadena still exists, and the connection that once brought you together has revitalized and is stronger than ever.
Neither of you has wanted to rush things, and so far, you're both happy to be able to spend time together.
Spencer has also opened the door for you to the BAU team, which has been his family for eight years now. In addition to the bond you already had with Penelope, you now regularly attend the girls' night she hosts with JJ and Emily. You've also gotten to know Derek and Hotch better and understand why Spencer considers them like his older brother and father figure, respectively. You've also become a favorite of David Rossi, who doesn't take no for an answer every time he invites you to one of his dinners.
Like tonight, where you find yourself vividly chatting with the girls in a corner of Rossi's backyard.
"No way I could have passed Dynamics and Mechanics without Spencer," you acknowledge when you're talking about the most challenging subjects you had in college.
"It seems a very interesting topic," Emily jokes, not knowing what the hell you were talking about.
You giggle at the memory, cheeks turning a shade of pink.
"I still remember those afternoons Spencer spent trying to help me memorize the Euler–Lagrange equations and the Hamilton's principle. He made it interesting, if you know what I mean," you wink at them.
"I don't think I want to know," JJ muses. Emily snorts at the suggestion.
"Oh, I definitely want to know what that means," Penelope pipes. You chuckle.
"One night, he made me recite the whole equations with his head buried between my thighs," you confess with a mischievous look.
"Oh my God!" Garcia's jaw goes slack, and Emily's eyes widen in disbelief.
"You fucking kidding me!"
"Definitely, I didn't want to know that," JJ shakes her head.
"Well, I helped him with Applied Computer Science. He had to produce a code to operate a string of relational databases while I was on my knees su-"
"Okay! I get it!" Garcia cuts you off, with her hands in the air, as Emily laughs and JJ groans.
"You asked," you shrug, a smirk on your lips.
"Okay, okay. But hear me out. Since we are talking about college time, and honestly speaking, we all have had someone in college, more or less important, with whom to study or do other things," Emily prefaces, making you giggle. "But from that, to marry, and one year later to divorce? How do you get over something so intense like that?"
You have questioned yourself the same for years.
Looking past JJ's shoulder, you see Spencer talking with Morgan, beer in hand, and you can't help but feel the smile creeping on your face when he looks back and winks at you.
If anything, the past months have made you realize what you had back then with him was unique. But what you're having now? It is as unique as before and better.
"I don't think you get over it. And it's okay; you learn to appreciate it and value the chances life gives you after."
The girls follow your line of sight and share a knowing look. When they see Spencer approaching the group, they collectively decide to go inside the house for a new drink.
"All yours," Garcia whispers to Spencer before going in a bee-line with Emily and JJ.
"What was that?" Spencer asks you with a quirked eyebrow when the girls are out of sight.
You look at him, pretending not to understand.
"I assume they wanted a refill," you say with a shrug. Spencer nods and smiles at you.
"And you don't? Do you want me to get you something?"
"No. I'm fine," you respond to his offer. "Besides, I think I've got my alcohol ration filled for the night."
"If you're done for the night, I can take you home if you want."
That's the Spencer you know, always concerned about your well-being and comfort. You shake your head.
"Not yet. Walk with me, though?" You ask, extending your hand for him to take. Without questioning reasons, Spencer nods and takes your hand. The two of you begin to walk towards the pool area, where the sound of the music coming from the house is less audible.
It's not unusual for you to hold hands now. You trust each other, and it's been an innocent way of showing affection. And while the tension of something more has been building, neither of you has wanted to take the next step yet.
When you stop in the pool deck, Spencer moves to stand in front of you, his free hand reaching to tilt your chin with his index so he can inspect your face for some kind of clue.
"Are you okay?"
You nod as your fingers, from your joined hands, absently play with his. A thorough smile tugs the corners of your mouth. Your eyes admiring Spencer's honey ones in the moonlight.
"More than okay," you admit. But Spencer knows there is more in your mind you're not saying.
"Yeah?"
"Yep." You're stretching this on purpose. A smirk plays on your face. Spencer knows what you are doing.
"Good." His voice is amused. This game was one you both used to play back then, testing each other's curiosity and seeing how long it took the other to demand an answer about what the other was thinking. Usually, you were the one who won since Spencer couldn't stand not knowing.
"Have you grown patient over the years, Dr. Reid?" You ask, entertained. Spencer's laughter fills you with a feeling you thought was dormant inside you, but he has managed to refloat.
Not wanting to prolong his torture, and because you don't have it in you to hold back any longer, you decide to speak.
"I know you remember, but can you tell me the first thing I said to you the day I met you?"
Spencer's eyes narrow in search of the moment you're referring to.
-
You were in the library, busily searching through the shelves for a book you couldn't find. Spencer could see the stress radiating off of you. After watching you for a few seconds, he decided to walk over to the shelf, and leaning down, he pulled a book from the top shelf before presenting it to you. "Maybe this is the one you're looking for?" And he was right. Your first thought was, 'How did I not see it before?' and then you realized the weirdest thing of all, 'how did he know which was the book you were looking for?' You didn't know the guy, and as far as you knew, he didn't know you either.
Seeing your confusion, he proceeded to explain. "It was an educated guess, seeing as you have Fuller's, Richmond's, and Helbert's there. I assumed you were in Thermodynamics 301 and didn't have Priest's."
-
Spencer laughs before trying to imitate your voice. "Can I buy you a coffee in appreciation and keep you in my purse for future reference?" You nod, smiling.
"Bold of me for asking that to a stranger, uh?"
"Bold of you for thinking I would ever refuse," Spencer says in a mocking tone to match your joke. You both share a fit of laughter. Once it subsides, your eyes fix on him.
"Bold of me to think I wouldn't fall in love with you after all these years." Your words hit Spencer, whose expression changes from light to serious in a second.
"What?"
"It's like they say. At some point, something has to give. And this is my moment." You pause before continuing. "I can't say I'm sure what's coming, because I'm not. I also don't know if what you've seen of me these past few months is worth enough for you to love me again. But there's one thing I do know. I love you. I loved you, I missed you, and now I've loved you again."
Spencer is speechless. His brain tries to piece together each word you say. You take both his hands in yours, and you can feel them tremble.
"If you'll have me, I want to be the one that stays," you add, hoping your words are good enough to convey your emotions.
You don't know when tears start running down your cheeks. It might be when you see Spencer's glassy eyes.
"I do love you. And I want you to be the one who stays," he rasps before releasing your hands to cup your cheeks with his own, leaning down to whisper, "Let me be the person you want to stay for."
"You already are," you whisper back before closing the distance between you, allowing your lips to meet in a tender, sweet kiss. A new promise and a new beginning for two souls that were meant to be. Thanks to fate, or maybe not. That doesn't matter anymore.
-
As you kiss, part, whisper sweet nothings to each other, and kiss again, not so far away, are two people watching the scene with satisfied looks on their faces.
"Do you see that, Hot Stuff?" Garcia asks Morgan. A smirk appears on his face.
"Yeah, mama. I see it, clear as the day."
"We did it!" Penelope cheers, whisper-yelling, making Morgan chuckle.
"I should never have doubted you, baby girl," the man says, kissing her cheek.
"Of course not. But I forgive you only because I'm so happy our plan worked wonderfully."
-----------
SIX MONTHS EARLIER
Penelope Garcia's curiosity always gets the best of her. She has gotten to know you better in the past months since the IA convention where you met. She sees you as a beautiful person and a good friend. So when you told her on a night full of alcohol about your ex-husband and how important your relationship was for you, Penelope couldn't shake the feeling of wanting to know more, so maybe she could do something to help. Do what? She didn't know, but maybe more information about it would give her an idea.
Quickly typing on her keyboard, she finds a Pasadena Marriage License with your name on it. Checking the date, Garcia notes you had married in the summer before your senior year. It was expected. You already told her that.
What was unexpected, though, was finding out who the person you had married was. Garcia had to read the name twice before realizing the huge discovery she had just made: Spencer Walter Reid.
'No way! It has to be a mistake,' she squealed, fast-reading the information on the papers. No, there wasn't any mistake. You married Spencer Reid almost ten years ago. The same Spencer Reid she has known for so long and works with her every day.
But wait. You had said, ex-husband. Where are the divorce papers?
Typing again, she finds a divorce request signed by you and Spencer a year after you married. So that is true, too.
Overwhelmed by everything she has just discovered, Garcia is about to close the web tabs with all this data when something pops up: it's a court resolution dated six months after the divorce request. The resolution reads that the request has been denied because one of the parts couldn't be notified for comparison to the Pasadena tribunal. Garcia narrows her eyes and types again, looking for an updated legal document granting the divorce request. She finds none.
'Double holy fucking shit! They are still married!'
Without knowing what to do with this new information, she starts pacing frantically in the office. Garcia knows that the information she found wasn't for her to know, but at the same time, how does it not you or Spencer know this? She can't tell you, but she should, or maybe not. Grabbing her phone, she dials the only person she knows will help her with the dilemma.
"Derek Morgan. I need your delicious ass in my office right now!"
And just like that, a plan emerged. A plan to give a little push to destiny. A little push to you and Spencer cross paths again. Maybe this time, for good.
-----------
"And when are you going to tell them about their failed divorce?" Morgan asks Garcia, who is still looking at the couple giggling and kissing.
"Oh, shush. Let them enjoy tonight. There will be time for that."
Derek Morgan shakes his head, laughing. "Okay. You're the boss, mama. You're the boss."
---------------
Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers
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pluralsword · 2 days ago
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you could argue that we did this sort of, it's a little more complicated.
You see, the reason we maintain our beard and shave it in specific ways is because transformer women often have helms that fill their face in similar ways at the cheeks or with chin armor. That helped the person who has been with this body the whole time fully absolve of herself of any dysphoria by being able to connect her facial her euphorically to a collective gender identity of womanhood of giant metal transforming robots from space since knowledge of the fact there are a lot of intersex human cis women who have facial hair (and intersex people are as common as redheads) wasn't cutting it for xem (hah). we dysphorically regret having to shave our beard recently to fly across the country out of fear of landing somewhere in an emergency where we'd be arrested for 'doing drag' at a public facility.
The reason we say this isn't simply butch per se for us specifically (a human singleton is another matter) is because there isn't an oppositional dynamic between male and female to us. they completely overlap, there's just collective gender assemblage tendencies of components being put together and identified differently (some of our writing mixing alien robot trans material-aesthetic assemblage mixed with gender tackles this, the one that does so most directly so far is our One fanfic. there will eventually be original fiction), the term we use for in our sparktion/hearth/etc. assemblage model that most closely approximates butch is torque, but it is rather different in meaning since it's primarily concerned with the (clash of) momentum literally and metaphorically and not with being masculine (xenogender stuff is fun!). It's also not confined to a physical expression appearance, so helm shapes don't necessarily fit this, and there's no single umbrella for what torque looks like. it's all assemblage, which is very different from the real problem of butch erasure in 21st century human storytelling and history
In addition we've also built up musculature precisely because it is no longer dysphoric anymore to breathe meditatively / heavily when exercising since the chest feels more like how it should, because xey always loved and wanted to emulate the warrior gal vibe (we know this applies much more widely, too, but thought it was worth mentioning), and ultimately that our nervous system now feels so much better exerting strength with HRT than before. but how we dress we think doesn't normally quite fit butch and we recoil at the thought of being more heavily clothed or armored meaning we're perceived as more masculine. the oppositional gender human patriarchy dichotomy is painful to us, we're glad this is changing with a) people understanding how curvy and rounded a lot of armor historically is especially plate, and b) women in armor where sexualization need not mean sacrificing actual armor capacity is becoming more normalized
TLDR you absolutely can be a transfem butch lesbian and we absolutely ended up on a similar but very different route of being torquey zoomdare transfem (taganite) mutualists who will for convenience's sake communicating with other people we share this lovely blue marble with use the terms t4t, sapphic, lesbian, and sometimes butch if we think we have to explain why our gender isn't 'simple' (eugh we hate how reductive that is of binary trans women) but don't think we can get away with explaining xenogender stuff and plurality. unless we are fortunate enough to, I don't know, see our terminology take off or even better that this happens alongside other assemblage models with a growth of a worldwide curiousity and capacity to accept that no one will ever know everything there is to know about gender and orientation so nobody assumes anything of us, takes what we have to say for what it is, asks questions if interested in knowing and knowing us that way, and celebrates what we have in common and what differences we have <3
Is transitioning from male to female to become a butch lesbian a reasonable option?
it is beyond reasonable, it is one of the coolest things you can do on this bitch of an earth
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creepyscritches · 9 hours ago
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I read your post about open enrollment for the ACA and was hoping you might expand on why you believe it would take years to dismantle. I've been terrified that with a Republican house/senate, Trump could just snap his fingers and make it go away within months of taking office. I'd love some reassurance that that's not possible.
Hiya, sure I can share some thoughts on the matter! First, it's very important to understand the ACA is a huuuuuuuuuuuuge system with subject matter experts in dozens of places throughout the process. I'm one of those SMEs, but I am at the end of the process where the revenue is generated, so my insight is limited on the public facing pieces.
What this means is that I am professionally embedded in the ACA in a position that exists purely to show what conditions people are treated for and then generate that data into what's called a "risk score". There's about 6 pages I could write on it, but the takeaway is that the ACA is
1) intricately interwoven with the federal government
2) increasingly profitable, sustainable, and growing (it is STILL a for-profit system if you can believe it)
3) wholeheartedly invested in by the largest insurance companies in the country LARGELY due to the fact that they finally learned the rules of how to make the ACA a thriving center of business
4) since the big issuers are arm+leg invested in the ACA, there is a lot of resistance politically and on an industry level to leave it behind (think of the lobbyists, politicians, corporations that will fight tooth and nail to protect their profit + investment)
The process to calculate a risk score takes roughly 2 years. There is an audit for the concurrent year and then a vigorous retro audit for the prev year - - this is a rolling cycle every year. Medicare has a similar process. These are RVP + RADV audits if you would like the jargon.
Eliminating the ACA abruptly is as internally laughable as us finishing the RADV audit ahead of schedule. If Trump were to blow the ACA into smithereens on day 1, he would be drowning in issuer complaints and an economic health sector that is essentially bleeding out. You cut off the RVP early? We have half of next RADV stuck in the gears now. You cut off the RADV early? No issuer will get their "risk adjusted" payments for services rendered in the prev benefit year (to an extent, again very complex multi-process system).
The ACA is GREAT for the public and should be defended on that basis alone. However, the inner capitalistic nature of the ACA is a powerful armor that has conservatives + liberals defending it on a basis of capital + market growth. It's not sexy, but it makes too much money consistently for the system to be easily dismantled.
Or at least that's what I can tell you from the money center of the ACA. they don't bring us up in political conversation because we are confusing to seasoned professionals, boring to industry outsiders, and consistently we are anathema to the anti-ACA talking points.
I am already preparing for next year's RVP for this window of open enrollment. That RVP process will feed into the RADV in 2026. In 2025, we begin the RADV for 2024. If nothing else, the slow fucking gears of CMS will keep the ACA alive until we finish our work at the end of the process. I highly doubt that will be the only reason the ACA is safeguarded, but it is a powerful type of support to pair with people protecting the ACA for other reasons.
I work every day to show, defend, and educate on how many diagnoses are managed thru my company's ACA plans. My specialty is cancer and I see a lot of it. The revenue drive comes from the Medical Loss Ratio (MLR) rule stating only 20% MAX of profit may go to the issuer + the 80% at a minimum must go back to the customer or be invested in expanding benefits. The more people on the plan using it, the higher that 20% becomes for the issuer and the more impactful that 80% becomes for the next year of benefit growth. It is remarkably profitable once issuers stop seeking out "healthy populations". The ACA is a functional method for issuers to tap into a stable customer base (sick/chronic ill customers) that turns a profit, grows, and builds strong consumer bases in each state.
The industry can never walk away from this overnight - - this is the preferred investment for many big players. Changing the direction of those businesses will be a monumental effort that takes years (at least 2 with the audits). In the meantime, you still have benefits, you still have care, and you still have reason to sign up. Let us deal with the bureaucracy bullshit, go get your care and know you have benefits thru 2025 and we will be working to keep it that way for 2026 and forward. This is a wing of the federal government, it is not a jenga tower like Trump wishes.
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mochiwonz · 3 days ago
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✉︎ - You Love Me Too? ♡
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𓍯𓂃 content : fem!reader x lee heeseung , fluff , cursing , skinship (kissing , hugging etc) heeseung is older than reader by 2 years , he babies her a litttleee , hes also kind-of a flirt and doesn't rly realize it ♡
𓍯𓂃 word count : 1.1k
𓍯𓂃 note : wrote this with orange haired hee in mindddd :3 i apologize for any grammar mistakes and this is my first time actually writing a fic, so pls don't hate me if this is complete ass !! (leave some notes or reblog if you enjoy :D)
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Another agonizing day at the coffee shop. Disrespectful people were definitely the absolute fucking worst. Just because you're serving them drinks doesn't mean they get to treat you like shit. God, you just wanted to be in his arms, having him caress your hair and sit with you while he listened to you ramble on and on about how terrible work is. Heeseung always made you feel validated, like your feelings were real feelings and that they actually mattered. You sigh as you text him for the sixth time today "hey hee, i'm home..where are you? txt me plz" At this point, you're getting worried. He's supposed to be home, he always answers your texts.
*Ping!* Oh shit, it could either be your boss or heeseung. "Please be hee please be hee!!" you say out loud, hoping it'll do something. You slowly pick up your phone, hands shaking, and-
"YES ITS HEE!!!!!! FINALLY oh my god"
His text read "hey sweets <3 sorry for not responding...was busy doing smth at the salon. c u soon!" What? Salon? When has he ever been to the salon?....oh. The last time he went was when he dyed his hair back to black.
Oh shit, you're in big. fucking. trouble. God knows how much you love and adore and want heeseung, who wouldn't? He's like an angel, perfect nose with big bambi eyes, tall, and has the most beautiful smile you've ever laid your eyes on. One problem though, he's your bestfriend. Bestfriend of 4 years, actually. Bestfriends don't like eachother like that. It's fine, you just have a little crush...it's not like you love love him, right? Plus, he probably doesn't even want you like that.
Right as you were about to make your way to the shared bathroom, you hear a sound. Footsteps. Footsteps that could only belong to lee heeseung. Fuck.
"Hey sweets" he says, and you can hear his grin. Surprised, not expecting his voice to be all up in your ear, you quickly turn around. Oh. My. God. You're faced with a grinning heeseung with......orange hair?!
"YOUR HAIR IS ORANGE??" you exclaim quite loudly, sounding a bit too excited. He chuckles a little, and holy fuck he looks absolutely delicious.
"Yeah sweets, whatcha ya think?" he asks, in an almost flirtatious tone of voice.
What do you think??? You think you're 1. about to fucking explode, 2. lunge at him because he's so fucking fine, and 3. cum in your pants. Or, to be honest, all of them at once!
"Oh yeah, right uhm it looks fine!" God, you made it so obvious.
"You sure? You seem like you're lying sweets." he says while looking deeply into your eyes with his own beautiful bambi eyes and playing with his new orange hair. You swear he's purposely doing this. Your mouth opens but nothing comes out, fuck. Get ahold of yourself y/n.
"Hee, of course i'm not lying. You look good, really good actually..." Shit, shit, shit. Why did you add that last part?? All you want to do right now is dig a hole into the ground and bury yourself.
You hadn't realized you'd been looking at the ground for a whole minute - sucked into your thoughts, until heeseung put his big hands on your chin and lifted your face to meet his.
"Yeah? I look really good?" he questions, voice laced with some sort of excitement. And as soon as your eyes meet his, he smiles. And all of a sudden, you realize, you don't have a crush on this man. You're whipped for him, you're in love with lee heeseung.
"Yeah..." you say under your breath. "Well thanks sweets, means alot coming from you, you know that right?" he tells you, with a sweet voice - almost cooing.
You don't respond, you can't respond. You're flustered as fuck. The man you realized that you're in love with, is less than 2ft away from you and almost...flirting...with you?
Almost a whole minute of silence goes by, nobody moves. Pained from the awkward silence, you decide to say something.
"Hey hee?.." you say, voice sounding small. "Mhm?" he hums, interested in what you're going to say next. "So okay, how do I say this. I think i'm in love with you. Actually, wait no, scratch that shit, i'm so fucking in love with you. I don't know if you even see me like that. You're so perfect inside and out, the man of my dreams actually. I don't even know what to do with myself when i'm around you. When you talk to me in a gentle voice or comfort me when i'm upset, all I want to do is kiss you. And I knoww this is cringey as fuck but I can't help it" you say, now out of breath from your rapping. (LMAOO<33)
Heeseung has an expression on his face that you can't seem to put your finger on. Shocked, unhappy, confused...you don't know. Before you could come up with any negative thoughts, he finally talks.
"Sweets...you mean that?" he asks, voice just as gentle as before, if anything - even more gentle. Can he stop staring at you like that? You're on the verge of exploding.
"Of course I mean it, dumbass." He giggles in response, and then brings his left hand onto your head as if he's patting your head and right hand to your cheek, softly caressing it with his thumb. "Fuck, I love you so much beautiful. And you're right, i'm a complete dumbass. I waited way too long to confess, i'm sorry sweets." he says, smiling at you and you swear you can see hearts in his eyes.
"Wait...you love me too?"
Instead of responding to you, he brings you closer to him. You can feel his hand slowly moving from the top of your head to your waist. To not make it awkward, you bring your arms around his neck, causing you to tippy toe a little. He has the softest smile on his face. You thought you were in love with him? God, he is so in awe of you and your beauty. You probably weren't even aware that your cheeks were all pink and adorable.
You watch his eyes move from your lips to your eyes and back to your lips. "Sweets, can I kiss you? Wanna know how you taste so bad."
And shit, how could you ever say no to him?
"Yes, please kiss me" you say in response, sounding desperate(as fuck).
As soon as he hears the "yes" slip out of your beautiful lips, he's quick to bring your faces closer together and close the gap. And fuck, his lips are perfect. It's like your lips were made for his and his were made for yours. Both of you were savoring this moment, your very first kiss with the man of your dreams, lee heeseung. Once you were out of breath, you finally pulled away - a string of saliva connecting your guys' lips.
Wasting no time, he picks you up as if you were as light as a feather, and spins you around like the princess you are. "I can finally call you my girl and my princess, and kiss you whenever I want!!" he exclaims, and you can tell hes smiling hard.
You laugh, feeling the happiest you've felt in forever. You look down to see him smiling at you, looking at you as if you were unreal. An angel. His angel ♡
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oh my god LMAO hope this isn't too bad :p my other works are here <33
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wonderjanga · 2 days ago
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No Need to Worry Over Sunshine
(This is connected to this short little post. This is also inspired @anastasiariley10123’s comment and @froginmygarden’s reblog of that post :D)
Marvel had been missing for a week. A whole week. He always comes to the Watchtower at least once a day! Yet hadn’t come all week! Anyone who messaged him on the communicators weren’t even getting any ‘:D’s too! They’re just getting ‘:)’s! Something was totally wrong. So imagine their surprise and slight horror when Flash went spilled some critical information when Clark and Hal came to relieve them from monitor duty.
After the monitor duty with Marvel…
Marvel: *dipped out so fast to not have to deal with the stares*
GL: *didn’t see the gray* “What’s with him?”
Supes: *peaks out of the monitor room to see Marvel turning a corner out of sight* “Is Cap alright?”
Flash: *sitting, wondering if Marvel is dying or something*
GL: “Wally…? Buddy? You good?”
Flash: “IthinkMarvelisdying.” *says super fast*
GL: “What?”
Supes: “What?!” *actually understood him*
Flash: “I think Marvel is dying.”
GL and Supes: *share a look*
Supes: “Wha- Why? Why do you think that?”
Flash: “Well, he’s going gray.”
GL: “Again, what?”
Flash: “And when I asked him about it, he nearly had a mental breakdown.”
Supes and GL: *share another look*
Supes: “Uhm… Did you ask him why he’s gray?
Flash: “Well, no, but-”
GL: *watching the monitors* “Aw shoot. Aliens in Metropolis.”
Supes, Flash, GL: *groans of annoyance*
Supes: “We’ll talk about this later.”
A little bit later…
JL: *just finished fighting the aliens*
Aquaman: “Geez, I can’t believe this is a weekly occurrence.” *looks at Marvel for a second before doing a double take* “What the hell happened to your hair?”
Marvel: “Huh? Uh…” *forgot to do a charm spell to cover the grey*
WW: “Brother, are you alright? You certainly shouldn’t be graying at your age.”
Other JL: *crowding Marvel in concern*
Marvel: “I mean, I am getting old Diana.”
WW: “Old? Brother you said you were nine.”
Flash: “Nine?”
WW: “Nine as in nine thousand years old.”
Marvel: “Uhm… Well, no. It’s more like nine…”
Solomon: “Go bigger, Billy.”
Marvel: “…hundred thousand.”
JL besides Marvel: *looks of utter shock (😟)*
Marvel: “So… yeah.” *awkward smile*
Flash: *sounds and looks horrified* “SO I WAS RIGHT! YOU ARE SO GONNA DIE!”
Marvel: “WHAT. No! I’m not gonna die! I have at least another hundred thousand years!”
They were all extremely relieved when they found that out. He’d outlive them all, which now that they thought about, was actually terrible for Marvel. But hey! At least he has a little lot of time left.
A little bit later…
Batman: “Were you a caveman?”
Marvel: “Hmm? Yeah.”
Also, someone recorded this entire interaction with a drone after the attack. People are calling him a silver fox now. He actually considered killing himself. (He said that outloud and the JL looked at him like 😨. Marvel: just kidding guys :D)
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jakeperalta · 1 day ago
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didn't expect my throwaway vent post to get so many notes so to add some more context to my thoughts: I'm thinking more of why people choose to vote for trump than why they refuse to vote for harris (although no doubt her being a women, specifically a black woman, comes in to play). knowing that the people voting for him either a- share his views or b- are willing to overlook him being abusive, violently and loudly misogynistic and actively stripping women of their rights because they think he's better for the economy or whatever bullshit.
but it's also specifically results like this ⬇️ in the youngest demographic that make me feel sad and scared for the future. I want to feel like things are changing and young men today are growing up to know better, but it's incredibly disheartening to see the discrepancy of 64% of young women voting harris vs only 47% of young men.
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the thing is I already know that men and society at large hate women. I know that young men in particular increasingly skew right and towards misogyny (I've read the articles, although all I really need to do is spend any time on any part of the internet to see the evidence). but then every so often something like this happens where it still somehow surprises me. like my god.. they really hate us this much.
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beardysuits · 2 days ago
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Piece of Jake
Logan has hated his body his entire life. Obese, gay, and a shut in have been a terrible combination for him. He decides becoming his sexy roommate Jake may be just what he needs to build up his confidence.
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I’ve had a crush on Jake for… well forever I guess. I guess that’s one of the perks of being a part of the same class every year since kindergarten; you get to see the cute boys become cute men. Then there was the downside of that, that anybody who bullied you from kindergarten will decide to do it until you graduate. They’ll do it for anything too; being gay, being fat, your race, your wealth. I was lucky enough to get 3 out of the 4 for about 12 years now. However, I’m ready for that to change.
See I was blessed with a fantastic combination of having a slow metabolism, and an anxiety which I decided to soothe with eating. The result has left me to be a 19 year old with a BMI of 42. And yeah, BMI is bullshit if you’re stacked with muscle, but I had the rolls and pudge to prove there was some truth to it. Combine this with the fact that I was more queer than a midnight premier of Rocky Horror, and I came out to be not the most popular guy in school. I thought that would all change once I went to college, but freshman year was hell. I essentially spent the entire time in my dorm room, locked up in the dark and playing video games. But, I guess it wasn’t all that bad.
See, back to Jake. Jake kept his status quo of being one of the top dogs from the ages of 5 to 18. Baseball star, debate captain, and voted “most likely to succeed” by our peers. Top all of that off that he was on of the few people who actually wasn’t a total ass to me, and you can see why I was head over heels for him. He was straight of course, and even if there was a touch of bisexuality in him, he would never be interested in me. Now color me surprised when I found out that not only were we going to the same college, but we got randomly assigned to be roommates in the dorms! I was astounded, it was like there really was an astral force looking out for me. 
So for almost the entirety of our freshman year, we chit chatted here and there, but Jake was almost never home. Instead, he was working to get himself into one of the fraternities and move into the house. While I was sad to not have as much time to admire Jake as I would like, that did give me the opportunity to go through his stuff. Mostly his closet. Jake wore the usual clothes you’d expect, hoodies, jerseys, wrangler jeans and the like. However, being that he was on the baseball team at the college, I found his stash of jockstraps he wore for practice. And good god, thank goodness laundry day was only once a week. The other 6 days I had a full time supply of used jocks to sniff and fantasize with. 
I even tried to put one of them on in a hormone-fueled rage, but my thighs were probably the same mass as his entire body, and I couldn’t get the damn thing on. The longer I admired Jake and saw him for who he was, the more my love for him grew. With that, so did my jealousy. Jake was everything I wanted. He was fit, cool, and could get any guy he wanted if he even batted an eye at them. My time alone did prove to give me an opportunity to do some research however. 
See, I’ve tried for a long, long, long time to get fit on my own. Watching my diet, exercise, starving myself. But, nothing would work. That’s when I started to look for more, creative solutions. I came across a blog hidden deep on the web which talked about taking another person’s form. Most of these seemed bogus, but I had to try. I found one eventually from a user, “Magic_Mann_720” who shared a potion, once which he claimed could turn anybody into a bodysuit. I was about to just toss it aside, but after looking at my desk and seeing the empty bag of McDonald’s staring back at me, I said fuck it. 
In all honesty, brewing a magic potion was easier than I assumed it would be, and after just a few short weeks of waiting for unusual supplies to arrive in the mail, I had a vial of the stuff at my whim. Now, who could I possibly give this to? No, not Jake. But also, maybe? Would that make me the worst person imaginable if I slipped this to him? He was one of the few good people I had come across, I couldn’t betray him like that. However, I saw one glimpse of his jock hanging from his hamper, and doubts crossed my mind. It was staring back at me, taunting me with how tight it fucking was. I had to wear it, and I only knew of one body it would perfectly fit. 
He was like clockwork, especially early in the morning when he made his preworkout and went off to the gym at 6 in the morning. I set my alarm for 5:50, just early enough to slip the potion into his drink before he woke up and set off. It was of course impossible to wake up so early in the morning, but somehow I managed to silence my alarm without waking Jake. 
I fumbled around in the dark and found his shake he made the night before. I had slept with the vial under my pillow, though I could barely sleep from the anticipation of my task today. Being careful to not wake him, I unscrewed the lid, dumped the contents of the vial into the jar, and shook it up. I had just laid back in my bed when his alarm woke him up. I kept my eyes closed, hoping to trick him into thinking I was asleep. I heard him stumble around the room, getting his bearings, getting dressed. I couldn’t resist popping one eye open to see his lithe frame as he found a tank and basketball shorts. 
He was already wearing boxers, but if my plan went accordingly, he never would wear such loose fitting underwear again. I heard him grab his shake, and my heart began to race. The pop of the lid went off, and I strained my ears to listen to him drain the contents quickly and quietly. The lid closed and just as I heard the doorknob turn, there was the sound of heavy stomps. I opened my eyes a bit wider to see Jake stumbling around, trying to get his bearings. 
“Hey… Logan?” Jake said weakly. I pretended to wake up and rose from bed, seeing him lean against his desk. 
“Jake? You okay?” I asked him. He turned his head to me, panting. 
“I d-don’t feel good man,” he said between breaths. “Get.. get help. Help.. me..” He slumped to the ground, and while I anticipated a loud thud as his jock body slammed to the ground, it was a soft thump, like that of clothes tossed to the ground. For a moment, I hesitated to creep any closer, afraid of what I would find. I mustered up the courage to turn on the bedside lamp and found a near horrifying site by the door. 
There on the ground was Jake, but he was flat as a pancake. He arms and legs stretched out, head deflated, and the clothes he was wearing were atop of him in a pile. I tiptoed to the body, already feeling regret in what I had done. Fuck why did I do this to him? Was I really so driven by my own lust I essentially just killed a good guy? 
My own footsteps were much heavier than Jakes, making the floorboards creek. I kicked at the body, the skin feeling as alive as ever, but made no movement of its own. I got on my knees, and with the tips of my fingers, grabbed Jake’s hair and pulled his head up. I was met with Jake’s face, his eyes now hollow sockets and mouth agape. I dropped the skin and scuttled back in fear. Fuck fuck fuck, it’s so god damn creepy! I took a few deep breaths and crawled on my hands and knees to the body once more. 
I tried to be more confident this time, grabbing him by his shoulders, and pulling him up as I struggled to stand. Jake was of similar height to me, so once I was fulling standing, I leaned the face to my mine, the tips of his toes still slumped on the floor. You know, it’s less creepy now. Jake was always a cutie, and even as a husk of himself he was irresistible. It was too late now, and while I felt bad about what I had done, I did it with a purpose. The issue now was, how the hell did I fit inside? Speaking of, would I fit at all?
I pulled at his cheek and found it to be rather elastic. My curiosity piqued, and I pulled at the corners of his mouth, which stretched at least a foot wide when I put some effort in. That gave me an idea. I quickly took off my shirt and briefs, catching my reflection in the standing mirror as I did so. God damn it, I was so fucking fat. My stomach hung out in front of me, almost covering my pathetic cock. Ass was as wide as trailer, neck rolls which made it seem like my head sat straight on my shoulders. Tits bigger than most girls I went to school with. This was my last chance to do something about it. 
I sat on my bed, laying Jake down in front of me like a pair of pants. Stepping one foot into Jake’s mouth, I stretched it further and further until my thick calves were encompassed by his lips. Grabbing at his chest, I pulled him further up my leg, already running out of breath as I did so. This was a workout on its own. I remember watching videos of guys slipping into wetsuits when I was a teenager, it was a slight fetish of mine. I loved seeing the neoprene cling to their slim figures. Those guys would go inch by inch yanking the suit further up them, so I went ahead and mirrored the practice. 
I found doing so actually made the process easier. Soon enough, my foot aligned with Jake’s. I shimmied his calves to match mine, but it was so incredibly tight. It was like my leg was vacuum sealed inside of him, crushing the fat around my leg down to match his. I began to pant, scared I was cutting off all circulation. I was so scared to look down and see something horrific, but shot a glance and was amazed by what I saw. There, my right leg was pristine. It was a mirror image of Jake’s which I had stared at so often when he wore shorts. I wiggled my toes, and Jake’s did the same motion. 
Kicking my leg around, the pain began to subside, and I could see up to my knee, it was like I had worked out my entire life. I could feel the beaming smile creep across my face as I stretched Jake’s mouth open wide again to shove my other foot inside. Now that I had some practice, my left leg was far easier to work with and soon enough, I had two sets of legs which were built from years of baseball practices and running. My thighs proved to be another issue entirely, practically twice the twice of my calves. 
I stood up from the bed, almost falling over from my balance being so off. Grabbing at Jake’s stomach, I jumped up and down a few times, his skin stretching and sliding over me with his lurch. My I stuck my hand down the inside of Jake’s mouth, the feeling of my now erect cock sliding against the inside of Jake. Although I wasn’t generously endowed, it still hurt to have it crushed inside of him. I found Jake’s cock, and while deflated, certainly overshadowed mine in length and girth. With one hand on the outside, and the other inside, I guided mine into his like a sheath. 
It was the most orgasmic feeling I had ever experienced. Jake’s cock went from looking like a flattened worm, to coming to full erection. He was at least seven inches long, and despite mine being half the size, somehow felt like it was filled entirely. It was beet red from anticipation, and while I wanted to cum right here and now, I had to finish what I started. I turned to the mirror once more, and was shocked by what I saw. From the waist up, I was still fat fuck Logan, but from the lower half, I was built like a god damn star. My new cock swung side to side, stiff as a board, and my ass, while squeezed in like a sausage, now was as perky as if I squatted 300 lbs. I turned and slapped Jake’s ass, watching as the taut skin slapped me back. All hints of cellulite gone. 
Finally was the part I was most afraid of, my stomach. It hung over the edge of Jake’s body, the flap of my stomach going over Jake’s lips. I sucked it in, which did practically nothing. Taking one of my arms, I pushed it as far in as I could, and used my other hand to pull the lips of Jake’s mouth up. I groaned in pain, feeling like a rubber band was squishing me in and threatening to cut me in half. Somehow though, his head moved up and moved. It was by inches and incredibly painful. Once I reached my belly button, I found a system to make it easier. Moving him up further and further, I finally reached my chest before I had to fall onto the bed. 
I was breathing heavier than ever, and drenched in sweat from what was left of my original body. I felt Jake’s, and he was as dry as ever, as he would never be worn out from such a task. I counted down from ten and hoisted myself up, catching my sight in the mirror. My moobs hung over Jake’s torso, but it was like I was wearing a skin corset. I rubbed my had over my new stomach, feeling how flat it was. In fact, I would even see the beginnings of a six pack bulging out. It was surreal, I don’t think I’ve been this thing since… ever. I took a deep breath and worked to shove each of my tits down Jake’s mouth. 
Each of them was a chore on their own, but eventually, all that was left were my arms and head. I don’t know how that would work, but if I made it this far, it was certainly possible. It would be tough as I would lose an arm at a time trying to slide them in. Taking my right one first, I wriggled my fingers inside, pushing them down Jake’s like a skin tight glove. With each inch my fingers slid in, it was easier and easier as I gained Jake’s strength. Eventually, the fingers found their way into his. I pulled at his bicep, as stretchy as the rest of him, and snapped it into place, enclosing my arm. 
I rushed to do the same with my left and with my newfound strength, found this section to be the easiest. I was almost done. Jake’s lips were around my neck, and I had to use his fingers to make sure he didn’t choke me. I glanced at the mirror, and found Jake with my head. I turned my body around, admiring his form. I had taken several sneaky glances at him as he changed, but to have full autonomy, to see his tattoo on his thigh, the way his veins popped in his hands, the curvature of his muscles, it was like I was being treated to a feast. 
“Goodbye Logan,” I told myself. I don’t know if I would come back from this. Or, if I would even want to. I took a deep breath and shimmied his head up my own. The same tight sensation took over my entire headspace and it was like a migraine hit me. Using my hands, I smushed my face around, placing my nose into his, eyes, lips. I fluttered my eyelids and had to refocus my vision. Going to the mirror was a picture perfect reflection of Jake. 
“Holy shit,” I said. Oh fuck, that was still my voice. I guess that wouldn’t have changed. I don’t know how I could pull off Jake’s voice, but I would have to practice it. I looked at the corner of my mouth, seeing my original lips peak through Jake’s. I took a finger, stretching and pulling it into place.
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There, I was Jake. Fuck I was Jake! I laughed and rubbed my arms across my body, watching as Jake did it in the mirror. 
I spent a good ten minutes trying different poses and watching as Jake bent to my will. Sniffing his pits, making funny faces, bending over and showing off my new hole to myself. That last one sent me over the edge and I knew I had to blow off the steam which had built up. I sat on the bed and hoisted my legs up, cradling the back of my knees in my hands. I could never have even thought about attempting that in my old body, but as Jake, I felt so lithe. My smile was beaming in between my legs as I puckered my hole. I had to see what this looked like. I wanted to see Jake be pathetic now. I twisted my face to match that of so many porn actors I had watched alone in this room. 
“Ohhhh… oh fuck me daddy,” I said, begging, watching Jake’s eyes as they wished desperately for a fat cock to fill him up. I split into my hand and began to pump my new cock, already slick and slimy from precum. I stuck a finger in my mouth and wet it before sliding it over my hole and slicking it up. I had plenty of experience playing with my old hole, but I always struggled to get my arm in a position to really get deep in. Jake didn’t have that problem though. I started to finger fuck myself, watching as Jake became his own bitch. 
“Oh fuck daddy, fuck me. Fuck me!” I yelled, the point of climax racing through my cock before I could even react. Laces of cum shot out and started to drench my body, reaching even to my face and getting into my hair. I pulled my finger out of my hole, let go of my cock, and felt it rest against my thigh. There in the reflection was Jake, covered in his own cum and looking like a bitch. 
I giggled, knowing I should feel far more guilty about what I had done, but too high on my own bliss to care. After bathing in my glory, I decided to clean Jake up and explore his body some more. I grabbed one of his towels and left the room, still naked. Walking down the dorm hall to the bathroom, it was still dead silent. Logan would have been petrified at the idea of being caught naked by somebody, but Jake? Well Jake now hoped somebody would see him and be jealous. 
Getting into the bathroom, I passed by Brad, another guy on our floor, who had a towel wrapped around his waist, still glistening from his shower. 
“Jake, the fuck?” He asked. I couldn’t pull off Jake’s voice yet, but I gave him a pat on the shoulder and winked at him as I pushed past. For a second I caught a glimpse of him checking out my body before he shook his head and rushed out to his room. I went to one of the mirrors in the bathroom and knelt over, posing and kissing at myself. Jake was going to become a lot more playful it seemed. 
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I took my time in the shower, feeling every crevice of Jake’s body and feeling myself up. And of course, stretching out his hole some more to work him up to taking a real dick. Maybe by one of his new frat brothers I need to meet. Once I got back to our room, I knew there was only one thing left on my to do list of the morning. I went to Jake’s hamper and pulled out the jock which was mocking me just hours before. I sniffed at, Jake’s pheromones becoming mine. 
I slipped both legs down and had no trouble at all this time adjusting my bulge and feeling the elastic hug my jock thighs. I snapped one of the bands, feeling a sheer run my spine as I did so. Slipping one of his black shirts on, I went for Jake’s phone, which thankfully could be opened with just his face. I snapped a few pictures for myself to look at whenever I pleased. Now, how about we download Grindr to it and see what this new body can pull?
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tsuutarr · 22 hours ago
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Hehe
Unleash Fox dilf! Jiu-jitsu please
Succubus anon💋💞
One foxy dilf coming up~
(Yandere! Fox hybrid (gumiho) doctor x reader)
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In your quaint village, not much occurs. Days are peaceful, if not a little boring. But you can’t really complain, not when the people around you are so lovely.
Your village helps each other, resources are always shared, and people are always taken care of. Among all your villagers, one of them, Dr. Shin, is especially kind. Despite being a new addition to your village, he’s loved by all the villagers. He’s often busy, too, as the only doctor around.  The previous doctor had passed away after falling to her demise in the woods while looking for herbs. Your village was both saddened and worried about the previous doctor’s sudden death, unsure of how you all would survive without medical care. Contrary to your worries, however, Dr. Shin suddenly appeared one day and from that point onwards, he’s become a valuable member of your village. He’s extremely personable and kind, making sure to make time for you – it’s no wonder he’s so beloved and trustworthy.
“Hello, Dr. Shin,” you greet him during one of your appointments. His fox ears flicker, which makes him rather cute despite him being much older than you. He often reminds you of the injured fox you had helped a few years back, especially when his bronze-colored ears move around.
“Ah, hello,” he greets back, a smile on his face. He motions for you to take a seat on the hospital bed. “How are you feeling?”
“Better, I think,” you respond, sitting down. Your fingers tap idly against your knee as you sink into thought. “I don’t think I get nightmares anymore…” 
“Oh? Then that’s quite good, isn’t it?”
“I… yes, I suppose.” Nervously, your eyes flicker downwards. It’s true that your nightmares have subsided, but they’ve been replaced with rather… inappropriate dreams about your doctor. But it isn’t like you can tell him that, especially when your dreams are so… realistic – like they’ve actually happened.
When you look back up, you can’t help but gasp at how intense his gaze is. “What troubles you?” he inquires, making your cheeks heat up.
“I… uhm, well…”
“Yes?”
At his expectant looks, you squeak out, “I’ve been having dreams that aren’t nightmares, really. But they’re… very intense, for a lack of a better word.”
Dr. Shin looks intrigued, leaning forward slightly. “Would you care to elaborate?” You shake your head, giving him a weak smile. “Ah, it’s nothing, really…”
“My dear,” Dr. Shin says, kindly, “I’m quite worried about you. Please, tell me.”
It’s too embarrassing to tell him – you just can’t. But the way he looks at you, his eyes glowing faintly… you can’t help but say, “I’m having sexual dreams,” despite your will. Gasping, you clamp your mouth shut.
“Oh?” he smiles, teeth glinting underneath the light. “I see, that’s quite normal.” Leaning back in his chair, he lets out a small hum. “But I suppose that it’s much more frequent and intense in your case, hm?”
You feel like you’re going to combust from embarrassment.
“Let’s see if I can assist you.” Dr. Shin pulls out his notebook and pen, ready to take a few notes. “Who is often present in these dreams of yours?”
You gulp, looking at him with wide eyes. He looks back at you, eyes glinting, leading you to say, “You.” Your mouth clamps shut – why did you say that?!
Regardless of your inner plight, Dr. Shin looks pleased, his smile getting wider. “Very good.” He notes a few things in his notebook, before snapping it shut and putting it away. The room dims as his eyes glow brighter, his grin toothy. “Don’t fret, my dear. There is quite an easy cure to your plight.” He approaches with soft – almost ghostly –  steps, before reaching out and tilting your chin. Nine tails – didn’t he only have one? – flicker out behind him as a chill runs through your body. “All you must do is stay by my side.”
After all, as the source of all your nightmares and dreams, he’s the only one who can cure you, too.
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nenelonomh · 1 day ago
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stop doom scrolling
doomscrolling, the habit of endlessly scrolling through negative news on your phone or computer, will not only destroy your personality and character but it is detrimental to your mental health. many people are trapped in the habit but do not release the insane effect that even half an hour has on their psyche.
you literally have a whole life to live! why are you wasting it!
and so, here are some tips to help you break this negative compulsion:
1. set time limits
use apps or built-in phone features to set time limits on social media and news apps. this can help you become more aware of how much time you’re spending and encourage you to take breaks.
2. schedule specific times for news
designate specific times of the day to check the news, rather than constantly throughout the day. this can help you stay informed without feeling overwhelmed.
3. practice mindfulness
engage in mindfulness practices like meditation or deep breathing exercises. this can help you stay present and reduce the urge to doomscroll.
4. seek out positive content
balance negative news with positive stories or uplifting content. follow accounts that share good news or inspiring stories.
5. engage in other (offline) activities
find alternative activities to replace doomscrolling, such as reading a book, exercising, or spending time with friends and family. keeping busy with other interests can reduce the temptation to scroll.
6. use thought-stopping techniques
when you catch yourself doomscrolling, use a thought-stopping technique like saying “stop” out loud or visualizing a stop sign. this can help interrupt the behavior and redirect your focus.
7. limit notifications
turn off non-essential notifications on your phone to reduce the constant influx of news alerts. this can help you control when and how you consume information.
8. reflect on your feelings
take a moment to reflect on how doomscrolling makes you feel. recognizing the negative impact it has on your mood can motivate you to change the habit.
9. set goals for screen-free time
establish goals for spending time away from screens, such as having screen-free meals or dedicating certain hours of the day to offline activities.
10. seek support
talk to friends or family about your efforts to reduce doomscrolling. having support can make it easier to stick to your goals and find healthier ways to stay informed.
bonus. change your mindset
instead of apathy and not caring about your mental health and character, try to grow and build yourself as a person; learn to love yourself. one trick that i use to stop myself if i ever start to rot is reminding myself that i am a creator and not a consumer. this identity reinforcement allows me to simply ignore the doom scrolling urge.
implementing these strategies can help you break the habit of doomscrolling and improve your overall well-being. i wish you luck on your development journey!
❤️nene
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kokusfluffyhair · 2 days ago
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I don't mean any drama by reblogging this, but by saying "you cannot reblog my post and also include other ace's experiences" is also being exclusive. Before jumping at a further reply, please read the rest of what I have to say. In my own personal experiences being asexual, I have had the opposite happen to me -- as in that because I was not repulsed by the topic of sex or imaginative sexual fantasies that I was not asexual. My irl experiences and lack of attraction towards people irl have been invalidated by multiple people just because in the scheme of some fictional characters or "celebrity crushes" that I have engaged in sexual thoughts. I have been told so many times for over a decade now that if I think sexually of anyone that I am not asexual and that I just have to "lower my standards" or to "learn to love a man for his personality and then he'll be attractive physically". I do apologise that because your experiences were not the same that my reblog made your or any sex-repulsed ace feel invalidated or demeaned. I don't know what you experienced, and likewise, even if you might view where I sit on the ace spectrum as the "accepted way to be ace", you don't know my experiences either. When you post something online, everyone has the right to share and communicate with the post. By saying "you can't do this"/"you can't say this" because it feels conflicting to you on what you wrote, you're inherintely limiting conversation, limiting speech, and even outing other members of the queer community.
It has taken years for asexuals to even feel a bit of acceptance in the queer community as a whole, and for all of us, regardless of how we experience our sexual orientation, we have been invalidated and cast out by many. Because we weren't "queer enough" and are just "traumatised", "scared", "immature", etc. This still happens today, and is why there needs to be solidarity in the ace community. Now, you may say that such a thing is why you made the post, because you were told "you aren't asexual" by people who experience this orientation differently. But, how is further segregation of who can/who cannot reblog/comment/discuss/share your post going to lead to greater solidarity, understanding, and acceptance in both the ace and queer communities? By reblogging your post and sharing my own impressions that came, I did not say that your post was wrong. I did not say that you couldn't have the experiences you did. I did not mock your experiences. Instead, reblogs that are civil and promoting sharing are intented to validate everyone's experience and to form community. As much as I don't think that division and silence is the answer, if you don't want me, as someone who does not experience asexuality in the same way as you do to interact, comment, and converse with your posts, please block me, because even if I don't follow you, I might see your content again on my feed.
In honour of ace week, and because I don't hear it enough:
REPULSED ASEXUALS EXISTS AND ARE AS VALID AS OTHERS
IT'S OK TO BE DISGUSTED BY SEX
IT'S OK TO NEVER WANTING TO DO IT
VIRGIN ISNT AN INSULT
YOU DON'T NEED AN EXCUSE TO NOT LIKING OR WANTING IT
SEX ISN'T WHAT MAKES US HUMAN
IT ISN'T VITAL
IT'S NOT SHAMEFUL TO NEVER DO IT
YOU DON'T NEED TO "TRY IT" TO KNOW THAT YOU HATE IT
IT'S NOT CHILDISH TO BE GROSSED OUT BY IT
IT'S FINE IF YOU'RE UNCOMFORTABLE WHEN PEOPLE TALK ABOUT IT
IT'S NOT YOUR FAULT AND PEOPLE SHOULD RESPECT YOUR BOUNDARIES
YOU ARE NOT BROKEN EVEN IF PEOPLE INSIST THAT YOU ARE
FUCK APHOBES AND FUCK PEOPLE WHO MAKE FUN OF PEOPLE WHO HATE SEX
YOU AREN'T ANY LESS VALID
WHEN SOMEONE IS BEING APHOBIC, INSTEAD OF SAYING "BUT SOME ACES DO ENJOY SEX", SAY "IT ISN'T AN ISSUE NOT WANTING IT"
YOU ARE SO VALID IF YOU ARE A REPULSED ACE PLEASE NEVER FORGET THAT!!!!
PEOPLE ARE JUST BEING CREEPS IF THEY INSIST THAT YOU MUST DO IT
IT'S OK IF YOU'RE NOT THE STEREOTYPICAL "ASEXUAL WHO WRITES SMUT AND MAKES SEX JOKES"
IT'S OK SKIPPING UNCOMFORTABLE SCENES IN MOVIES AND SHOWS
IT'S OK TO NEVER DO IT IN YOUR LIFE
THE WHOLE "OLD PERSON WITH CATS" ISNT EVEN AN INSULT CUZ IT SOUNDS DOPE AF NGL
ALSO IT'S OK TO BE MAD WHEN YOU HEAR PEOPLE CLAIMING HOW GOOD SEX IS AND ALL THE "IT'S HEALTHY" BULLSHIT BECAUSE NO YOU'RE NOT GOING TO DIE EARLIER BECAUSE YOU DON'T DO IT
ALSO ITS NOT A SHAMEFUL THING TO NOT DO ANYTHING YOURSELF EITHER
AND ITS ALSO OK IF YOU EVEN STRUGGLE TO SPELL SOME WORDS OUT BECAUSE OF YOUR REPULSION
IF YOU'RE AN ADULT YOU'RE VALID AND YOU DON'T NEED TO DO IT IN ORDER TO BE VALID AS AN ADULT
YOU'RE NOT MISSING OUT ON ANYTHING
YOU ARE QUEER ENOUGH !! YOU DESERVE A PLACE IN THE LGBT COMMUNITY, AND YOUR VOICE DESERVES TO BE HEARD!!
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aricarianis · 1 day ago
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CW: explicit depictions of violence and sexual themes.
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John Price was the love of your life. Love is a powerful force—capable of building or destroying—and what you shared kept you bound to him for years. But only having his rough hands on your skin for a few months at a time, hearing his gruff voice say sweet nothings over the phone, missing the feel of his beard grazing your neck as his words seeped into you like venom, all wore down the foundations of what a real relationship was supposed to be.
He knew it. He felt the same sick ache in his chest every time he promised to come home soon, both of you aware it was a lie. He’d promised to slow down, to leave the job, to stay by your side, but the marriage you ended up with wasn’t the one you’d signed up for. You didn’t want a husband who vanished for months on end. When he returned, he’d devour you, craving your body like a hard drug. His hands too eager to find your sweet spots, cock too hungry to make you forget that he had lied. He'd push you into constant moments of bliss, tricking, but even his passion couldn’t erase the truth: he’d lie again.
In time, your marriage went where so many do. When he was handed the divorce papers at the base, he still tried to attack the process server. You wanted out, and nothing he did would change it—not refusing to sign, not tearing the papers up, not skipping court. You weren’t his anymore.
Life carried on, with months passing and, as usual, not a word from John. You thought losing the love of your life would be agony enough, but his indifference only added to the torment. Part of you wished you’d never met him; never knowing love would’ve been worth never knowing this pain.
The night before the hearing, you invited your lawyer to your flat to go over last-minute instructions. As the meeting wound down, a low, metallic sound came from the bedroom.
“Did you hear that?” you asked. He shook his head.
The two of you sat in tense silence for a moment, dread prickling at you. Your lawyer offered to check the bedroom, but you dismissed it, assuring him it was probably nothing. The meeting continued until, just before leaving, he asked to use the restroom. You directed him to the en suite, since the guest bathroom had stopped working that morning.
Lost in thought, you noticed several minutes had passed without him returning. Concerned, you called his name. No answer. Yelled. Still no answer. Your chest tightened, dread spreading through you like poison. Gripping the hunting knife John had given you for protection, you made your way to the bedroom.
“You can put that thing down, love. ‘S just me.” The gruff voice sent a shiver down your spine—unmistakable.
You peeked into the dark room, spotting the familiar silhouette against the dim light from the window. “John? H-how did you find me?”
“Why’d I have to find you in the first place?” His tone was cold, anger simmering beneath restraint.
“I needed space,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “Single people live alone.”
“You know damn well you aren't single.”
“I’ve been single ever since I married you.”
Your words cut deep. His shoulders slumped as he sighed, hurt etched on his face.
“Where’s my lawyer?” you asked, searching the shadows.
“He’s not our problem anymore.”
“John…” Your breath hitched. “What did you do?”
“Someone’s trying to take you from me, innit? Was it him?”
“Where is he?”
“Think a piece of paper’ll keep me from you?” His voice dripped with rage.
“Why do you care? You love your job more than you love me—”
“Don’t say that.”
“I understand, John, but this wasn’t the marriage I was promised. I’d rather have none of you than pieces,” you said, your voice thick. “At least then I wouldn’t have to lie to myself that I’ll ever have you whole.”
He breathed heavily, brow furrowing as if struggling to comprehend your words.
"Why can't you just admit you've fucked up and leave me alone, huh? You had months to pull this little stunt—it's too late to care now."
John’s expression went blank, unreadable. He lunged, disarming you with practiced ease, gripping you by the hair and throwing you onto the bed. Your back hit something solid, unfamiliar beneath the covers.
He flicked on the light, and before your eyes adjusted, he was above you, pressing the knife to your throat. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his beard scratching your skin, hunger corroding him from within.
Instinctively, you turned to the side, seeking something to help you escape. Instead, you saw your lawyer’s lifeless, bloodshot eyes staring back, ones that had met yours with empathy so many times, reassuring you that everything would be okay. His neck twisted at a grotesque angle, lips slack in a silent scream.
“I’ll hunt you down forever, love,” John whispered, his voice carrying all the rage and obsession you overlooked for years.
Tears streamed down your cheeks, your breathing erratic, heart thundering. He pulled back, holding your gaze with a look that seared into your soul, his mouth twisting into a cruel smile.
“Doesn’t matter what you think,” he murmured, voice dangerously soft. “I will always be the love of your life.”
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angelwishess · 1 day ago
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𝜗𝜚 Floyra Intro Post !
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❝Because theres no one on the land or in the sea more in sync than those two.❞
|| playlist. || moodboard. || pinterest quotes. || pinterest board. || (<- in the “Dynamic w Floyd” section!)
Floyra is the ship of my main oc, Kyra and Floyd! Kyra is my Yuusona twisted from the Disney Princess Stereotype.
This intro post is just to graph out the timeline and details of their relationship. Funfacts at the end :3 (Fair warning though, this ended up being SUPER long… So feel free just to skip to the funfacts if you want HAHAHA)
Please note I may or may not have changed some things in the canon storyline for my own amusement hehe. Nothing too major though.
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Tropes :
Idiots to Lovers, Bestfriends to Lovers, Soulmates, literally the DENSEST people ever … Actually they’re more like cowards. Mutual pining, mutual SIMPING they ADORE eachother they are absolutely WHIPPED, chaotic lovey dovey couple, tooth-rotting fluff, no i mean seriously this is the fluffiest ship EVER, they make eachother both better and worse simultaniously. They share the same braincell. Basically already a couple before they even start dating but they dont realize it.
Kyra: “What?? Ofc we’re not dating lmao wdym we’re just friends!!” <- just held his face tenderly and looked into his eyes adoringly while calling him the prettiest boy in the world and kissing his face all over
Floyd: “yeah lol why would u think that” <- arm around her waist, basically always looking at her with a dopey grin and heart eyes
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First Impressions
When Floyd heard that there was an unexpected appearance of a magicless student at the entrance ceremony that blazed in with a flaming fire tanuki and set fire to the mirror chamber, he was intrigued. When he learned that very same student was, quite literally, from an entirely different world, he was even more intrigued.
Not to mention the fact she lived in that rundown, deteriorating 'dorm' that was literally called Ramshackle, and she was almost expelled two other guppies on the very first day of school.
But, when he saw her for himself he was... Disappointed.
Often times she just stood by the sidelines, seemingly in her own world with a far-off look in her eyes and an empty smile that ticked him off for no apparent reason.
She never reacted to anything, letting people walk over her like some sort of welcome mat. Somehow, she didn't even feel alive.
To put it bluntly— Floyd thought she was boring.
Just a wimpy, puny little shrimp who didn't even have any magic. Who wouldn't even run away if her life was on the line, weak and defenseless. Naive. How boring, and here he thought he had another play thing... But wheres the fun if he doesn't get a reaction out of it? How lame.
Kyra and Floyd only officially met during book 2.
Kyra passed by Floyd a bunch of times before— but never actually ‘saw’ him. Floyd on the other hand, already had an opinion of Kyra.
Seeing her just simply standing by the sidelines again and saying nothing and just… Staring. He decided to finally approach her straight up.
Deciding to give her a squeeze for the fun of it— he didn’t expect at all for her to hug him back and basically turn the situation on him instead. It flustered him, and made him walk away from the whole scene out of confusion and embarrassment.
Despite everything, Kyra thought Floyd was amusing. and insanely pretty.
Building Interest …
As time passed they seemed to keep catching glimpses of eachother. And with each passing day, she seemed to get more and more... Interesting.
Facing overblots despite having no magic, causing trouble left and right and getting into such ridiculous situations it makes you wonder how she does everything she does without getting tired of how absurd it all is.
When his first impression of her was her being ‘boring', his second was her being naive. How else could you explain it? She had to be either ridiculously brave or incredibly stupid and naive to do the things that she does.
Kyra and Floyd don’t have any notable interactions until the main events of Book 3.
When Kyra decided to strike up a deal with Azul to free all of the students under a contract— Floyd thought she was stupid. Naive, and way too easy of a target. It was laughable. It basically confirmed everything he thought of her.
As Floyd and Jade were monitoring Kyra and Grim as they packed up their things, Kyra acted as if nothing major was happening. Talking to them and cracking jokes like they were old friends. It was then Floyd and Kyra found out they might be more similar than they thought, saying the same things at the same time and holding the same opinions.
When Kyra almost dropped a bag of her things, Floyd helped from impulse. He laughed it off, but Kyra decided to give him a kiss on the cheek as a ‘thank you’.
He froze in place. Not expecting that kind of reaction from her once again, and just kind of… Staring at her as she passed. Jade had another laugh at his brother.
When Kyra first saw Floyd in his merform, he took the chance to try and scare her a little. Just for fun. But just like before— it totally backfired, and Kyra just looked at her with the same wonder as she did the first time. She had the nerve to call him ‘Beautiful’ under her breath, too.
So, Floyd simply swam away after realizing she wasn’t going to give him the reaction he wanted, deciding to play with someone who will.
But when he tried to attack a nearby friend of hers— She punched him straight in the face! A fire burning in her eyes as she straight up threatened him.
Floyd was… Confused. Confused about Kyra, i mean. One moment she was staring at him like he was a of work of art, the next shes throwing hands at him with zero hesitation. He thought she was a pushover— but maybe he was wrong.
She had guts, though. Thats for sure. A magicless little thing like her deciding to put her hands up and fight, even threatening him? A 13ft long eelmer that could rip her apart without a sweat? Something about it.. Scared him a little. Ending up with a bloodied nose, staring down someone who didn’t show any fear or any regret.
Floyd always wanted a challenge. But did he expect that challenge to come in a 5’7 package, decorated with pretty pink bows? No, not at all.
But thats something. And boy, does Floyd love the thrill of the unexpected. After this interaction that past intrigue he had in her before came back 2 times stronger.
It only worsened when Kyra’s little plan to destroy Azul’s contracts actually worked… And Floyd got chills seeing the look on her face.
It was so unlike what he thought of her. A big, smug grin. The face of someone who knows they already won. It was almost malicious. And it was then he realized— she wasn’t as dumb or as naive as he thought she was, either.
But when they got back to the Lounge, it so happened that Leona seemed to have missed one, single contract. When they spotted it, Kyra was the first to react. Managing to grab it before Azul.
Azul wasn’t too happy about it, screeching and yelling for her to give it to him, grabbing her while doing so.
And in that moment of tension, of fear and action, she did something that shocked everyone. In the face of danger, she held the sole contract tightly in her hands and she—
…She ate the contract.
She shoved the glowing papering in her mouth, and swallowed the thing. And it worked. Honestly they didn’t know which was more ridiculous… Her decision, or the fact it was a success.
She grinned so widely, so proudly. She had the nerve to even laugh in Azul’s face. “Yeah, thats right! Screw you, octoboy!”
Floyd couldn’t surpress the laughter that bubbled up his throat watching it all go down. The sound of her laugh ringing in his ears. It was just so… Ridiculous. She was ridiculous.
She had just outsmarted Azul… And the best solution she could think of was to eat the contract? It was downright cartoonish!
But when Azul overblotted, Floyd got to see Kyra in action. He was surprised all over again. But he should be used to it by now, he should expect it. She just keeps surprising him.
She was no pushover— rising up to the challenge when needed. Even if she still acted unserious, even if she acted goofy and wild, she still got down to business and made it work nonetheless.
And he realized she wasn’t anything like what he thought of her before. She was… Nothing like what he thought. Always surpassing his expectations of her no matter how much they changed.
Everytime he thought he had her figured out, she goes and does something that makes him rethink it all over again…
She was very, very interesting. And now, shes got his full attention.
Strangers to Besties!
After the main events of Book 3, Floyd had started following around Kyra more often. Actually, scratch that. He started following her around constantly. She eventually apologized for punching him in the face, too. Surprisingly.
Realizing they were actually very similar, they began hanging out more and more, until they eventually became an inseperable duo that everyone knew about.
At first, most were surprised. Kyra had only just started coming out of her shell, so most were still under the impression she was a sweet, mild mannered young girl.
But after befriending Floyd— all of her self-control truly did go flying out of the window. If she was bad before, she was even worse now. Freely skipping classes more often without a care to go find Floyd, trying to juggle live fish in the courtyard, or jumping out of a window just to escape some of the staff. and the like.
Late night adventures, dancing in the rain, sneaking out of class, spontaneous hang outs and sleepovers, pulling pranks and causing trouble left and right… They were so in sync, its was scary. Kyra was almost like a second Floyd, and everyone knew that it was probably best to run in the other direction when you see them side by side.
No matter what the situation, they always had eachother’s back, too.
It was strange to think they were ever strangers. They felt like they’ve known eachother for years— thats how well they’ve grown to know eachother. They were as thick as thieves!
Hanging out everyday, whenever they could, they just had so much fun together all the time!
To everyone’s dismay, of course. They were far too in sync, if the chaos around one of them was bad it combined when they were together.
Floyd finally found someone who could keep up with him, and even better, keep him on his toes. Kyra surprised him everyday, and thats what he loved. He found someone who understood him, too.
Kyra on the otherhand, found someone who encouraged all of her once repressed desires. She found someone she could be herself with, with no fear of judgement.
Never one without the other, those two. Wherever Kyra was Floyd was surely close to follow, and wherever Floyd was Kyra was most definetly near. They followed eachother around, always stayed close to one another.
Slowly, they’ve grown to not only seek eachother out to go and have fun, but also for comfort.
Platonic ..?
What started as a simple friendship which focused on the high of ‘having fun’ and causing trouble, or just basically being partners in crime— slowly turned into something much more… Intimate.
When Floyd stormed all the way to Ramshackle after a bad day at Mostro Lounge, he didn’t really know what to expect, he just wanted to get away from everyone else and Ramshackle was the best place he could think of.
He didn’t expect Kyra to be so caring. Pulling him into her arms and running her fingers through his hair while encouraging him to rant.
Kyra had always been an affectionate person, he knew that. It started small— little kisses on the cheek and forehead from Kyra to him, hugs and the like. But this was different. It felt different, atleast.
The way she held him felt different, and the way her lips gently kissed his skin made all of the stress from before sizzle into nothing.
He couldn’t help but melt, and before they knew it this became a routine for them, too.
They grew to find themselves comfortable being vulnerable around eachother. Showing sides of themselves to eachother most wouldn’t see. And they knew eachother better than anyone else did.
Simple, friendly touches became something more. The playful wrap of Floyd’s arm around her waist became tighter, and Kyra’s touches on him lingered for longer. Suddenly the playful ‘I Love You’s didn’t seem platonic anymore— atleast not with the way they looked at eachother while they said it.
Simply seeking eachother out to go cause chaos turned into seeking eachother out to just simply be in eachother’s presence instead. Whatever activity they did started to come second, and as long as they were together they were as happy as could be.
Of course, they never recognized this change. In their point of view, they’ve always been like this. But everyone else can see as plain as day, that something definetly changed.
It was painful for everyone involved, really. For some reason neither of them seemed to acknowledge the obvious feelings between eachother.
Everyone could see the way they looked at eachother, the way they acted around eachother… Everything was so painfully blatant… But they still couldn’t admit it. Even when the lines between friendship and intimacy began to blur.
Realizations!
Nothing about their relationship really changed at this point. They just kind of realized their romantic feelings after being deep in denial for WAYY too long.
The first to realize their feelings was actually Kyra, believe it or not. Which is funny because shes never been the best at realizing her own emotions in general.
She was definetly panicked about it, and decided to not say a word of it to anyone. She didn’t want to ruin the friendship they had, after all he was her dearest friend. So she kept her mouth shut and continued on pretending like it was nothing.
She felt selfish having such feelings. She felt as if she didn’t deserve him, like he deserved better than her because she grew up thinking she must be unlovable. And so she kept quiet for the sake of him, too. She thought it was best for the both of them. (<- LIARRRRR!!!!!!)
Floyd realized a little later, it kind of just hit him one day. They weren’t doing anything in particular, he just looked at her and went “Oh. Ohhh.”
Like a lightbulb went off in his head. He didn’t say anything about it either for awhile. Eels are cowards, after all. And he didn’t know if she felt the same. So he just decided to act like nothing happened, continued this routine of theirs that they’ve grown attatched to.
Maybe there were afew times where they wanted to say something about it, to finally admit the unspoken thoughts they’ve had kept in the back of their minds… But they never go through with it. Always backing out last minute, brushing it off.
The two were cowards, dancing around their mutual feelings. Unsure of how the other felt, so they decided to just leave it all unsaid. Even if the look in their eyes said otherwise.
Saying they were just “best friends” was just so much easier. It was what they were used to, what they were comfortable with. It was easier to brush it all off as them being comfortable eachother, sharing beds and exchanging gentle touches. It was all platonic, of course!
…Though Floyd was hesitant with his own feelings. He never expected to find someone that captured his interest so much… Yet he wondered, was he ready to commit?
Strangely, there was no doubt in his mind. It was yes, it always was, yes. The moment he asked himself that question he answered it immediately at the same time.
Of course, because he realized if it was Kyra, there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do. Man, when did he get so whipped for such a silly shrimpy?
Merfolk only choose one mate for life. And Floyd is sure he wanted his to be Kyra.
He was scared of course after realizing his own feelings. Besides Azul and Jade, he's never let anyone get this close to him. It was strange letting Kyra in like this. He didn't plan on her, not at first at least. but now that he has you, he wants to keep you forever.
Man, she just kept surprising him, huh? He never even thought he could feel so deeply for someone. But hes so glad that he found her, that they found eachother.
Difficulties…
When Kyra left with Epel, Rook and Elena during Book 6, Floyd was upset.
Thats an understatement, really. He was furstrated, worried, and somehow he even felt betrayed.
Why didn’t she tell him?? Doesn’t she know its dangerous? Whats a shrimpy like her gonna do, huh?
He knows Kyra can take care of herself, he knows shes capable and he knows she can defend herself. But that doesn’t stop him from worrying.
Throughout the span that shes gone Floyd is restless. Hes snappier, hes moodier and he cant seem to stop pacing around no matter how hard he tries.
But when Kyra gets back— he completely ignores her.
Kyra was so very confused. Actually, everyone was. This was a first for the two of them. Honestly, Kyra expected him to run towards her just like he always does. But he doesn’t.
Kyra is back, but that doesn’t change his mood. If anything, it worsens. And Kyra doesn’t have a clue why! Everytime she tries to approach him, he just turns his heel and walks away. And hes never looked at her like… that..
Kyra is a total mess. And suddenly shes not as good as keeping her real feelings at bay like she usually is. She wondered if she did something wrong? Said something wrong? Was he finally sick of her? And that was when she realized— she was terrified of the thought of losing him.
In desperation she went to Jade. Maybe she should’ve asked Elena for advice instead, but before she knew it she was sat infront of Jade, asking for help with his brother.
If anything, Jade seemed amused with her situation. Of course he did. But with a mischevious twinkle in his eye, she had a feeling he had a scheme brewing up in his head.
Maybe she should’ve known better than to trust Jade… But she didn’t really have a choice, or so she thought as much.
Something about this situation felt so… Deliberate. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but it seemed like he knew she’d come to him for help sooner or later.
After giving Kyra some advice and words of encouragement, he did something rather out of character of him. Bringing into a hug, he held her rather close to himself.
Kyra didn’t really notice this, and accepted the hug with no hesitation. Wrapping her arms around him and sighing as she melted into the well-needed hug.
Little did she know, Jade’s eyes were glued onto his brother’s figure, looming by the doorframe with a scowl on his face. It made Jade chuckle, deciding to tighten her arms around Kyra juust a little more to see what he’d do.
Of course, Floyd wasn’t happy about it. Now, Floyd is not a jealous person by any means. He has better things to focus on, other things to keep him entertained. But at moments like these, when hes already in a bad mood, he can’t help that primal instict, its in his blood after all. A moray is a moray.
Tearing her away from Jade, he drags her to somewhere else. Leaving a very amused Jade watching them leave.
And so, an argument occurs !!! Its a back and forth, Floyd mad about what he just saw, Kyra trying to explain the situation then her getting mad at him back for avoiding her like the plague.
It ended up with Floyd admitting he was mad because she didn’t tell him about her going with them, but at the same time he was mad at himself for not being able to be with her then.
Kyra realizes that, yeah, she probably shouldve let him know she was going. But she couldn’t just brush off the fact he hurt her by doing what he did, shes grown enough as a person at this point to not let her own feelings go unheard.
Reconcilliation!!! They both apologize and promise to do better, and what better way to catch up on lost time than a sleepover??
Best believe that after they made up, they went back to their normal selves as if nothing happened— actually, maybe even worse with how much clingier they are. They seriously missed eachother, seeing how much they stuck together. 😭
“Home”?
When Kyra got news of the possibility of finding a way back to her home she was in shambles. So very conflicted between the place she called home and the place she felt was home.
She knew she had to leave some day. She knew this freedom she had was temporary. She knew one day, she’d have to go back to the life she grew to despise, the life that was never hers.
She didn’t want to leave, though. Of course she didn’t. But still, she didn’t really have a choice.
She decided she wouldn’t do the same mistake and leave Floyd out of the loop. If anyone deserves to know first, its probably him.
And so, while theyre sitting on the rooftop of Ramshackle she mentions it. And Floyd is… Upset. Of course he is. Hes beyond upset, really. He just got his best friend back, now hes hearing she might be going away again? For good? Forever?
No way. He couldnt accept that, there was no way he could. But before he could even say anything— Kyra spoke first.
“I don’t want to go back. I really, really don’t.”
“…You don’t? Huh? Why?” There was a wave of relief that crashed over Floyd when he heard those words fall from her lips, his eyes glued onto the girl beside him. Hanging onto every word she says. “No. Its just… Its not my home, atleast not anymore. I dont think it is.”
“I think, this is my home now.” She chuckles, eyes glued down to the ground below. “…Because you’re here.” She says, turning to look at him. She spoke in that tone that she only used behind closed doors. When no one was looking. That soft, sweet voice she used whenever she carded her fingers through his hair and whispered sweet nothings to him until he fell asleep. It wasn’t unauthetic like the voice she used when they first met— no, it was genuine. Real. Full of adoration, of fondness. Her gaze held so much love.
“…Hah, what’re you gettin’ all sappy for, Sea Angel? Thats so cringe.” He laughed, but his heart soared. Even if it was cheesey, he couldnt help but swoon with just the way she looked at him. Like he was the most beautiful thing in the world. She always said he was the prettiest boy in the world.
She moved forward, her face leaning ever so close to his, so close he could see every line and curve of her features. He laughed at first, “Hey, what’cha tryna do, huh? What? Do I have somethin’ on my face?” He joked, but she didn’t respond. It looked like she was thinking, like she was deep in thought. “…Kyra?”
Her name left his lips for what was the first time. Hanging in the air like a silent prayer of longing, of want. And her own lips met his. Capturing it in a sweet, sudden kiss.
Time seemed to have stopped. It always felt like that when they were together, but this was different. Nothing could prepare him for that— hell, he didn’t even get the chance to kiss her back, the moment felt as if it went on forever but it was over too quickly all the same.
There was a flash of realization on Kyra’s face as her cheeks flushed a red that could rival Riddle on a rampage. Stumbling and stuttering, she couldn’t handle the embarrassment, and before he could even say anything she ran away. Leaving him on the rooftop, wide eyes and a stomach full of butterflies.
Yeah. Kyra is really stupid sometimes.
After that whole thing, she ran to Leona to let out her thoughts. He listened, though he said he ‘didn’t have a choice anyway’.
“So… You kissed him then you just.. Ran? Seriously?” “I PANICKED!!!”
Floyd and Kyra don’t really interact until Malleus’ overblot. And during the time they’re in Floyd’s dream, shes hoping he doesn’t bring up what happened at the rooftop.
Confession!
The confession takes a long, LOONG time. Im talking probably around book 7 or later. Probably when Kyra confirmed that shes staying in Twisted Wonderland. (Everyone thank Papa Crewel, he sorted out her documents for her :33)
Hehe because eels are cowards and they dont take the shot unless theyre sure it’s a winner. So he waits, and waits some more. And of course, that kiss was the sign he needed to finally just go for it.
Eventually, Floyd does confess. Although I still haven’t thought of the details— it does go something like this.
When Kyra at first laughs at him thinking it was a joke, he got annoyed. He didn’t think this was funny, and after seeing the serious look on his face she stopped immediately.
After realizing he was being genuine, she started straight up BAWLING. Sobbing, because she couldn’t believe someone could ever love her the way she is.
Shes deemed herself as unlovable so very long ago, she didnt expect the person she adored so much to ever love her back. She felt selfish, wanting to accept his feelings. But she wanted to be selfish at that moment.
Floyd has never been one to comfort people. He was never the best at it, but if its her, he’ll try. He always does. It was weird, but if it was her he always found himself doing things he’d never thought he’d do for someone else.
When Kyra started rambling about all of the reasons he “shouldn’t” love her, he started talking about why he loved all of those sides of her. Kissing away her tears n’ all. AUAUAUUUGGHHHH
It was honestly super emotional ESPECIALLY for Kyra, but she of course accepts the confession and they FINALLY KISS PROPERLY OH MY GOD THANK U !! ROUND OF APPLAUSE !!!!!!!
Floyd also calls Kyra by her actual name instead of ‘Shrimpy’ or ‘Sea Angel’ during this confession :3
“Its About Time!”
Honestly, nothing much changes after they confess.
Sure it takes some time to get used to them being officially a couple, but they’re still mostly the same.
However, I’d like to think that they just… Don’t mention it to anyone. Not because they’re keeping their relationship a secret, they just ?? Dont ???? Because they’re weird like that idk and its funny to me
For awhile no one actually knows they’re dating, and one day when someone comments on how they really should just suck it up and start dating they’re like “oh, lol we already are” “WHAT—“
Floyd definetly brags about Kyra a lot though 😭😭 and Kyra does the same… theyre both so down bad its SICKENING.
Funfacts!
Floyd was kind of scared of Kyra for a little while LMAOO 😭 shes a little TOO freaky …
Floyd has stayed over at Ramshackle so much that he’s has a bunch of stuff over there. An extra toothbrush, some changes of clothes, you name it. Its probably there. You can bet Floyd just lets himself into Ramshackle all the time, sometimes even in the middle of the night. But Kyra is always so chill about it 😭 (only because its Floyd HEHE)
Before they even started dating— behind closed doors they already acted like an old married couple 😭
Kyra and Floyd are lowkey super domestic behind closed doors, especially after a sleepover. Waking the other up with kisses ….. Helping eachother get ready for the day, helping eachother get dressed … Cooking together …….. theyre so sickening …………
Even if they aren’t with eachother all the time, they still manage to include eachother in their lives somehow. Whenever they go off on a solo-adventure, they always come back with some sort of trinket that reminded them of the other.
Speaking of, they’re both avid collectors of anything they deem cool enough. Random rocks, acorns, a lost penny, you name it. They like to show eachother the things they found throughout the day to eachother!
They have this silly little game Kyra started. She began hiding little sticky notes with sweet messages or a doodle and sometimes gifts in places she knows Floyd will find, and he’s started doing the same thing. Ever since then, its kind of become more like a competition on who can find the most sticky notes 😭
Kyra gets cuteness aggression from Floyd. Yeah thats it.
^^ she genuinely believes hes the cutest thing ever. Whatever u say queen!!!!
Floyd loves giving Kyra random gifts out of nowhere. The gifts can range from ‘a cool rock’ to a designer jacket. Kyra doesnt know which she prefers HAHAHA
Kyra herself prefers handmade gifts, so she loves to make Floyd pieces of jewelry and clothing! Shes always so proud whenever she sees him wearing something she made :3
Floyd and Kyra have been kicked out of class several times for laughing too hard.
They admitted to eachother before they even started dating that they couldn’t imagine their life without the other… can they pls take the hint omg
Floyd always feels super bad whenever he loses control of his temper around Kyra. One time he snapped at her, and he immediately apologized 😭 he told her to slap him if he ever did that again, hugged her so tight too and Kyra honestly found it so cute 😭
Floyd always perks up whenever he realizes Kyra is close by, always running straight to her. Kyra does the same thing and quite literally jumps into his arms.
Both Kyra and Floyd’s main love language is physical touch!! But Kyra loves to compliment him all the time, and Floyd loves gift giving :3
Kyra always greets Floyd with a kiss on the cheek. Yeah she started doing this before they were event dating im afraid ….
Kyra and Floyd love to read together at night, though Kyra usually falls asleep first AHAHAHA
But !! Kyra is also the first to wake up more often than not, and always wakes Floyd up with butterfly kisses on his face :3
Floyd convinced Azul to add some of Kyra’s favorite foods to the menu of Mostro Lounge just to get her to come visit more often
Kyra fights anyone that bad-mouths Floyd. Floyd doesnt know whether to find it cute or annoyed that she keeps getting herself hurt 😭
^^ SPEAKING OF, Kyra literally unlocked a much more caring side of Floyd with her being so accident-prone 😭 girlie got herself injured so much FLOYD had to step in smh …
Floyd is the kinda guy to carry Kyra if her feet started to hurt while walking or if she sprains an ankle teehee
They’re both banned from an arcade in town after they broke a claw machine and stole all the plushies inside. And other things but that isnt as important.
When Floyd feels like hanging out with her, he’ll look for her around campus then just throw her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes then just walks away. Kyra never struggles or objects and kind of just … accepts her fate 😭
Rambling…
Kyra grew up thinking the love she received will always be conditional. That she always needed to live up to some sort of expectation, and so she created a ‘perfect’ persona in order to do just that.
She still keeps that persona from the Prologue to Book 1, but begins to break away from it during Book 2– but while in her past she was only loved for the version of herself she created for others— it was the opposite with Floyd.
He disliked her so-called ‘persona’, but fell so deeply in love with her real self.
^^ she was very confused, yet so very happy.
Floyd never expected to ever love or care about someone so deeply, but at the same time he can’t imagine anything he wouldn’t do for Kyra.
Floyd thinks everything is fun as long as Kyra is with him <3
Kyra only ever started showing her more vulnerable side to Floyd during her character development. He was the very first to ever see her break away from the unbothered act she always put on.
Floyd was never one to let himself be so soft and vulnerable around anyone, ever. But strangely, he lets his guard down around Kyra. Kyra knows of the much gentler side to him, and she adores it so very much.
Kyra is extremely understanding and patient of Floyd and his mood swings. She knows he’d never intentionally hurt her, and always knows just how to cheer him up. Whether with a silly joke, a spontaneous adventure or just lying in bed with him in her arms.
Kyra trusts Floyd with her LIFE. She trusts him so much its ridiculous. No matter what the situation, she always feels like she can rely on him… But she wont trust him with her food. Or her plushies.
Extra: Incorrect Quotes (?)
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I have more on my 🎀! twst shennanigans tag lol
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purgaytorysupremacy · 2 hours ago
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as the grandchild of survivors of the Second World War on both sides, this has been a really hard thing for me to internalize. none of my grandparents (nor my parents) talked about WWII much. I don’t actually know that much about what my families were doing, only that it was bad. I have an entire branch of my family tree that’s just gone and (supposedly) no one knows why. where I grew up in Canada had a lot of Holocaust survivors because we had large Dutch and German communities already, and every year until I graduated high school, we were fortunate enough to hear firsthand stories from survivors.
the one thing my grandparents would say and those survivors would repeat in their talks, over and over, until it was seared in my brain: “Never look away. You can’t let this happen again. The least you can do is never look away.”
I took this lesson very seriously. I was plugged in to the news all the time. I felt so helpless and useless and hopeless, but I wasn’t going to do the people suffering through it the disservice of looking away. I donated my money and my time and hoped to get into international aid, even joined the military because Canada is the nation of peacekeepers (Listen, I was a kid lol) and Gen. Roméo Dallaire, the Canadian who led the peacekeeping mission in Rwanda, was my hero. (Even as it ruined his life.)
I don’t know if anyone reading this had this same experience. I don’t know many people IRL who had this message drilled in so completely. (Being a white first-generation Canadian as a millennial is like that sometimes.) And I ended up breaking. I just couldn’t keep watching everything and being utterly unable to do a damn thing about it. It made me feel like a bad person and like I failed not only my grandparents but all those who shared their stories, so few of them who are still alive to do so.
Thing is, my grandparents got their news from film reels and this new thing called radio. The photos and documentation they saw from the time, both now and contemporaneously, was sparse and edited and targeted, for better or worse. None thought we would someday live in a world where individual people can upload hours of no-context atrocities from anywhere at any time.
Obviously, the “Never Again” and “Don’t look away” aren’t literal, but the way we pay attention now is different than they would’ve in the 1940’s or 1970’s. No one taught me how to stay true to something that has become a core value while not collapsing into compassion and empathy fatigue to the point where I have to look away.
I don’t have an answer on that balance yet, but just understanding that there does need to be one has been incredibly helpful. That doomscrolling isn’t helping anyone. That paying attention doesn’t mean knowing everything about everything at all times. We have more information by orders of magnitude than even existed in my grandparents’ lifetimes. We have to choose what “not looking away” looks like for each of us in the cultural and activism environments we live in. No one is more virtuous or caring because they’ve exposed themselves to more trauma than someone else. It’s not sustainable. You’ve gotta keep your oxygen mask on.
A video that was really helpful in me noodling this out—it’s been a lifelong project, and I’m sure it will continue to be—was Hank Green’s vlog on Webs of Care.
None of us can do everything, but all of us can do anything.
Hi. Things are bleak, I know that. I know that we paid for Trump's last term with blood and it is likely the price will be blood again.
But listen to me. LISTEN.
You do not have to force yourself to witness horrors as an act of activism. It is not a form of activism. You can put your phone down, you can block that horrific video. We cannot win if you cannot fight and you will not be able to fight if you are hopeless.
Do not let them guilt you into this. People who are exhausted are easier to walk over. Take care of yourself, find community where you find joy.
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boyguk · 3 days ago
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A small backstory Köpi shared about Skit & Autiomaa
Köpi happened to run into Jere and his people in a recording studio. Since they know each other they ended up hanging out for a bit while Köpi was working on his song. When he was about to leave they suddenly seemed oddly shy/meek and then asked if they could ask him something.
They told him they’re thinking of putting a skit on the album, and they were wondering if Köpi would like to pretend to be Jere’s therapist. Köpi agreed to do that and was like “I’m not gonna write anything though, just turn the mic on” and then he just came up with random stuff. Jere and his team ended up completely loving it. Jere’s bits were added later, so Köpi had no idea what kind of replies Jere ended up giving to him.
Then they contacted Köpi again, and asked if he’d like to be part of Autiomaa’s MV too because the song ended up becoming related to the skit. Köpi saw the bad HS review about him and People’s Champion and it made him laugh, because the whole thing was not planned at all and the reason why he happened to be at the studio at the same time as Jere back then was actually really ridiculous (he was there to record a tango song about balls 😭).
Köpi also shared that he died inside when he was talking with Jere and he said he’s been really liking his music videos, he was listing his favourites and ended up complimenting Hiiohoi’s MV and Jere was like "you mean Huhhahhei?” and then Köpi said "ah yeah that one, I thought that MV was really great” and then Jere was like "…we never did a music video for that” 💀
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lennjamin-o7 · 3 days ago
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Thought it was time to return the curse upon you for once... (also inspired vaguely by the DMs from earlier so hehe)
AU where Techno is a superhero.
Not just any superhero, really. One of the best. He manages to keep the city crime free almost singlehandedly and does so without breaking a sweat. Though he does work together with another hero named Phil and the two are thick as thieves.
It's hotly debated among fangroups of civilians why Techno joined the hero ranks. Since he doesn't exactly make it subtle that he's an introvert, fame is off the list. Techno is kind of brash and awkward too, he doesn't strike people as the sort of guy who does it for something as vague as 'helping people' - he also might get a bit too excited about new villains for that to ring true. There are rumors that his family was killed by a villain and this is Techno getting revenge, but this rumor is never verified. Maybe money? Money is a pretty good motivator.
The truth is that Techno is incredibly bored.
Techno peaked in high school and is so incredibly gifted kid coded. (/hj)
And hero work is a great adrenaline kick, a thrilling situation to throw himself into. Especially villains who come up with wild schemes. Maybe, just maybe, it's even bordering on depression. He has to keep busy with hero work or he literally can't bother to get out of bed or motivate himself for much of anything.
Things have been better since Phil came along. Phil is, in a twist on the usual dynamic, the less experienced one when it comes to hero work (despite being so much older lol, Phil was a civilian hiding his powers before). So he's teamed with Techno to learn the ropes, and the two hit it off, and the team-up becomes permanent. Phil is the first and only person Techno considers a friend. And after befriending Phil, Techno gradually gets a few hobbies (he's cultivating a potato plant in the hero association dorm, he's reading books Phil recommends to him, he's playing chess with Phil on slow afternoons).
But Phil would still like for Techno to have more of an identity outside of his hero work. Techno brushes him off. It's almost a running joke at this point.
(Technoblade is not his real name. It's his hero name. Techno has no civilian identity, never bothered to maintain one. This is concerning to Phil).
Whenever Phil thinks he's made some progress, a new villain will pop up or something will happen and ALL of Techno's attention will go to that again. And then after it's over he'll be bummed out because Techno usually beats the villain very easily and it doesn't pose a challenge for not. What Techno truly needs is an archnemesis.
Good thing that one day, a new supervillain pops up in town.
He's cruel, and he's smart, and he's ruthless. And he's very, very strong. Strong enough to almost beat Techno into the ground one-handed during their first confrontation, though Techno manages to win just barely. It's as if this new villain knows all his moves, his weaknesses. It's exhilarating.
The new villain calls himself The Crowfather.
(Fangroups don't really debate on why Phil joined hero work. But if they did some digging, they might find out that Phil once almost died, and the only thing that kept him from dying was a hero saving him. Technoblade.
They might find out that Phil became a hero not because he cares about the status, or saving people. He just wanted to get closer to Techno. To repay him, somehow, any way he can.
Even if it means murdering a bunch of innocent people.)
Hey, Techno is smiling a lot more now that he has The Crowfather to go up against. And isn't that all that matters :)
[this was so rambly, i'm not very good at this and u can tell lol]
I've think I've kept this hostage long enough Shara Friend. It has been kept for my eyes alone long enough. Now, I freely share it.
Fuck yeah bored Super Hero Technoblade! You popped off with this. I love Sneaky Philza standing by his side and, if it makes him happy, standing against him as well. Who cares about the ants he has to squish to see Technoblade HAPPY. An easy and small price to pay for the guy who saved him.
Gosh, I love this. The DRAMA that would ensue when everything is found out. How will that go? Will Technoblade be appalled? Disgusted? Angry?
Or maybe, just a tiny bit curious about how interesting it would be to be a Villain.
Love it. Love it so much. I want to CORRUPT this version of Technoblade so so SOOO much!!!!
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