#former foster care child

[newbieecosocalistboy]

Als chronisch kranker, behinderter Doppelstaatler mit türkischem Migrationshintergrund, der im Heim aufgewachsen ist und kein familiäres Hilfesystem hat, macht mir die aktuelle politische Entwicklung in Deutschland echt Sorgen. Die AfD steht für eine knallharte, migrationsfeindliche Politik und will den Sozialstaat abbauen – zwei Dinge, die für mich direkt gefährlich werden können. Obwohl ich Atheist bin, mich als Deutscher sehe und nie auffällig war, werde ich oft als Moslem gelesen, und das übrigens sowohl von Links als auch rechts. In einem Klima, in dem rechte Hetze immer normaler wird, kann das schnell zum Problem werden.

Die AfD betrachtet Menschen wie mich nicht als Teil dieser Gesellschaft, sondern als Belastung oder Fremdkörper. Obwohl ich mein ganzes Leben um sozialen Aufstieg kämpfe, um von dem Startpunkt Heimkind aufzusteigen und mich nützlich zu machen, hat dies nur zu einer Verschlechterung meines Gesundheitszustand geführt, statt dem versprochenen sozialen Aufstieg durch harte Arbeit, wie es der Neoliberalismus propagiert. Gleichzeitig setzt sie auf neoliberale Sozialpolitik, die genau da kürzen will, wo es für Menschen wie mich existenziell wird – bei Sozialleistungen, gesundheitlicher Versorgung und Inklusion. Ich habe kein familiäres Netz, das mich auffangen könnte, wenn der Staat sich zurückzieht. Und genau das ist der Plan dieser Partei: die soziale Sicherheit abbauen, während sie gleichzeitig Migranten, Behinderte und andere marginalisierte Gruppen zu Sündenböcken macht.

Ein zusätzliches Problem für mich ist, dass ich mich aus rechtlichen Gründen nicht aus der türkischen Staatsangehörigkeit ausbürgern lassen kann. Das heißt, selbst wenn ich es wollte, könnte ich diesen rechtlichen Makel, den Rechte gegen mich verwenden, gar nicht loswerden. Es spielt keine Rolle, dass ich mich als Deutscher sehe – für Leute, die Menschen wie mich loswerden wollen, wird dieser Umstand immer als Vorwand genutzt werden.

Dass die CDU sich jetzt immer offener für eine Zusammenarbeit mit der AfD zeigt, ist ein riesiges Warnsignal. Das bedeutet, dass rechte und unsoziale Politik sich immer weiter in der sogenannten Mitte der Gesellschaft ausbreiten. Wenn diese Entwicklung so weitergeht, könnte das für viele – besonders für Menschen wie mich – richtig gefährlich werden. Denn wenn rechte Ideologie und neoliberale Kürzungspolitik zusammenkommen, werden die Schwächsten in der Gesellschaft als Erste darunter leiden.

Ich frage mich wirklich, wie sicher ich in einem Deutschland noch bin, in dem immer mehr Menschen wie ich als „nicht richtig deutsch“, als „Belastung“ oder als „überflüssig“ dargestellt werden. Die Lage ist ernst, und ich glaube, es ist wichtiger denn je, sich dem entgegenzustellen, bevor es irgendwann zu spät ist.

[liebgirl]

got so scared of The Movie i was like shaking and nervous like that one gif of that cat. or dylan o’brien in love and monsters. anyway. put on my beautiful wife once upon a time <3 season 4 naturally… they said what if prince charming was a corrupt cop… and what if regina yelled at this ten year old kid about something he did when. he was. older... god can you imagine being august ouat

[ex-foster]

"When I applied to college for the first, time it was an extremely stressful process because it says right on the form like, 'Who are your parents? How much do they make?"

[the-cimmerians]

Today, ProPublica reports on yet another big change that stands to solve a decades-long problem we first learned about back in 2016, closing a huge loophole that allowed states to divert federal antipoverty funds to governors’ pet projects, like promoting abstinence, holding “heathy marriage” classes that did nothing to prevent out-of-wedlock births, funding anti-abortion “clinics” to lie about abortion “risks,” sending middle-class kids to private colleges, and other schemes only tangentially related to helping poor kids. It’s the same loophole that Mississippi officials tried to drive a truck through to divert welfare funds to former sportsball man Brett Favre’s alma mater, for a volleyball palace. [ ]

The agency has proposed new rules — open for public comment until December 1 — aimed at nudging states to actually use TANF funds to give cash to needy parents, not fill budget holes or punish poor people.

One change will put an end to the scheme Utah used to substitute LDS church funds for welfare, by prohibiting states

from counting charitable giving by private organizations, such as churches and food banks, as “state” spending on welfare, a practice that has allowed legislatures to budget less for programs for low-income families while still claiming to meet federal minimums.

Another new rule will put the kibosh on using TANF to fund child protective services or foster care programs, which are not what TANF is supposed to be for, damn it.

And then there’s the simple matter of making sure that funds for needy families go to needy families, not to pet projects that have little to do with poverty:

The reforms would also redefine the term “needy” to refer only to families with incomes at or below 200% of the federal poverty line. Currently, some states spend TANF money on programs like college scholarships — or volleyball stadiums — that benefit more affluent people.

[rmbunnie]

I see so much of "is post-crisis Robin Jason an innocent little sweetie-pie or a mean aggro delinquent" and after reading through all of his batman and detective comic issues post-crisis I think i can safely say he's... an introverted and distrustful, but altogether friendly teen boy who has convinced himself to the deepest level that he is an Adult Man, and also does not hold a particularly good view of adults.

The sweet little babypie characterization falls a little short (assuming we aren't being too silly with it, there's plenty of that in the comedy issues of tec) because it disregards the part where he's a jaded teenager who is constantly going off and trying to take care of his own problems like "his own man" and reacts negatively to any breach of trust or move to take care of him. But negative doesn't mean "violent and rageful." The delinquent angle is incorrect because not only is his disposition peppy, silly, and agreeable most of the time, but assuming the problem upsetting him isn't a predator or the guy who killed his dad (and three out of four canon instances it is a predator to be clear) he reacts to emotional turmoil with Bruce by bedrotting, sulking, communicating through notes, and overall being avoidant. The only times he lashes out are when Bruce is calling him out or after Bruce told him to his face that he chose to look for the Joker over looking for him, and that case of "lashing out" is just getting a little snarky.

More than anything his main personality trait (besides being silly, a robin staple) is kinda coming into this parentified as fuck. Not that it's Catherine's fault, but it really shaped his character, like one of the first things he says to Bruce (after he promised not to turn Jason in to the foster system) is that he kept her fed and warm as long as he could like he wasn't her ten year old child when he started. It's why he views himself on the same level as adults and why he gets all closed off at any insinuation that he needs to be taken care of, both of which heavily inform his dynamic with Bruce. He's constantly checking in on Bruce's wellbeing, like half of Batman: the Cult is just him taking care of Bruce while he recuperates from being brainwashed. (Side note, he's also constantly asking Bruce stuff like "what's your relationship like with this woman or this rogue or the concept of religion, how did that play out, how do you feel about it?" he is Very chatty like that.) The first thing he does when Sheila tells him her (revised to exclude medical malpractice) life story is hold HER and try to affirm her struggle. After a while he starts to act more childish with Bruce (although he doesn't really stop trying to brush off attempts to care for him) but as soon as Bruce admits he prioritized crimefighting over Jason and didn't show up to look after Jason like Jason assumed he came there for, Jason snaps back to acting very independent and rejecting any attempts to be looked after on any terms other than some kind of "equals" thing, which he isn't, as he's a 15 year old boy. Like. He's very sweet to his former neighbor, but also he refers to being a homeless child and the sole provider in his condemned building living situation as "getting by" to her.

He's definitely not. some bloodthirsty delinquent, at least to anyone who's not an uber-misogynistic predator, and he like demonstrably is a pretty sweet kid. It's just that when people say he's a sweet kid they kinda just jump to "untraumatized eight-year-old who grew up in a loving family and just got a new puppy from Santa" instead of "good hearted and curious teenager who has trust issues and is deeply uncomfortable with being taken care of, so kinda just compromises by pretending his dad is a Friend Doing him a Solid and acts like his kid only when he has plausible deniability so he can't get the rug pulled out from under him." Of course. He does kinda get the rug pulled out from under him despite all that. So there's that.

[little-grey-dowitcher]

We also need to make sure we discredit and ignore those kids every chance we get. Can’t let them convince anyone that the things they’re saying are true, that would obviously make them so much MORE vulnerable to abuse.

Oh and also any kid that lives in a nice house who says they’re being abused is automatically lying because clearly their parents couldn’t possibly be abusing them when there’s food in the pantry and running water. Obviously it’s ONLY kids in poverty that are abused, no other kids have been abused ever.

Also we should immediately take those kids that are living in poverty away from their parents and punish those parents instead of offering them support. Obviously, taking kids away from their parents for no reason other than them being poor and putting the kids into the oh so perfect foster care system will make them so much less likely to be abused. Yea, just ignore all the statistics about abuse in the foster care system that could easily be solved if the government actually provided them funding.

Child abuse is a big problem, so it's important that we don't let children communicate with adults except their parents and other official authority figures. Everyone knows the best way to prevent child abuse is to keep children isolated and ensure all their communications are controlled.

[beuxwhoyouare]

Is It Infidelity?

Ethan & Mark came up in a generation that wasn’t fond of the idea of them. They combatted adversity to be together through it all after meeting each other in high school. Coming up in a time that wasn’t too kind to gay people, they found solace in one another’s company and through it all fell in love. By that point in time, the world began shifting. Being gay was more common and less frowned upon.

The pair ended up going to college together, getting married, climbing their career ladders, and establishing themselves in their community. Eventually in their early 40s they decided it was time to take the plunge and start a family. They eventually had their little Billy goat and thought this would be the beginning of their next chapter. But as much as they wanted Billy’s new life to be surrounded by love, it presented new challenges that made Ethan & Mark doubt their preparedness and worse…their love for each other.

They got through years of bigotry and hatred, but resentment built between the pair. Eventually they realized they needed to spend time together being more thoughtful and constructive with their communication and began trying to see a couples counselor, but that required help to take care of Billy.

That’s when they met Aaron. A former collegiate football player, Aaron was in pharmacy school trying to pay his way through and looking for relatively long term and stable gigs to allow him a routine to focus on school. Aaron overheard the pair squabbling one time about how to make time to go see the counselor when he had the idea to pitch himself as a potential nanny for Billy.

The two men were taken aback by the strangers act of generosity and they’d be remiss to ignore his archetypical great physique.

They invited him over for drinks at the house to get to know him better and ensure he wasn’t like a murderer or anything outlandish. His story endeared the couple to him even more and they all hit it off, including Billy. That was nearly 2 years ago now.

Ethan & Mark had seemingly worked on their tension, Aaron enjoyed their family unit. A child aged out of the foster care system, the family became a surrogate one to the future pharmacist. All was seemingly at ease once again and Aaron hoped that even when he finished school, he wouldn’t lose them or maybe he selfishly wanted something else that couldn’t be said aloud. Under the surface multiple things were bubbling.

Mark was not happy in their marriage anymore. He still loved Ethan and his son but he wasn’t sure that was enough to keep the marriage alive. They all had built a friendship with Aaron, so Mark thought he’d be the perfect one to confide in about the emergence of such turmoil in his heart.

Mark told Aaron one day about the fallout of love he was facing as Ethan worked a double at the hospital. The confession was a blindside to Aaron, but not for the reason you may think. Aaron loved them all dearly but he began gaining feelings for Ethan somewhere along the way. Could this be his chance to get the man he thought he wanted? No, surely that would ruin the relationships they’ve all built? Right? Almost like word vomit, Aaron released those inside thoughts aloud.

The silence between the two was deafening. The two stared at each other quietly for a few moments before Mark broke down crying. Aaron began inching closer to console his boss and close friend. As he sat close he began tearing up saying ��I wish I could help you more in this moment. I love you guys so much and I love Billy he’s like a kid to me too at this point.”

Mark looked up and told the young man, “I’m so sorry that you’re having these feelings for Ethan and now you’re in the middle of our mess. I wish there would just be an easy way to end the sadness.” As the two wiped their tears, they agreed to not divulge anything to Ethan without the other one’s approval. In their respective homes, they both tossed and turned in bed, distraught over the days discoveries or so they thought. The world had other reasons to keep them tossing and turning. Aiming to add balance to their situation, the world had a solution and needed their souls to accomplish it.

A universal force aimed to add balance, ripping their souls from their bodies and placing them in each others corporal forms. When the switch was done, the two finally fell into sleep.

Mark woke up peacefully with no blaring crying from Billy. He couldn’t remember the last time that happened lately. Trusting muscle memory he made his way to the restroom eyes closed, bumping into a few things he didn’t recognize but also didn’t invest too much thought into. He fumbled into the restroom feeling a bit chilly, odd considering he went to sleep in a long sleeve pj top.

Oblivious to the situation, Mark’s new physique stood in a doorframe it did many times before unaware of its new operator. As Mark moved to drop his pants to pee, he wrapped his now muscled hand around an unfamiliar thick morning wood. The size difference forced his eyes to finally open as he looked down gasping from the foreign sight below him. Gone was his long sleeve, replaced by mounds and mounds of sexy rippling muscle. Pecs like mountains with sharply pointed nipples. Ridges of cobblestone abs leading towards a v-line that introduced a thick, dark, rod below, insanely larger that the one he’d used for decades.

Instead of beginning to pee, he motioned over to the mirror in the restroom with pants still down. In the reflection there stood a nearly nude Aaron. Instinct took over as his new hand almost began jerking back and forth comfortably on his new thick pole. Speeding up as he involuntarily began moaning then grunting. As his pace picked up he wasn’t used to the sheer force needed to keep this body satisfied and while stacked with muscle the lack of preparedness led to him bracing himself against a nearby wall.

Meanwhile, Marks’ new phone sat buzzing at the bedside of the bed. Across the city, Aaron panicked calling Mark after realizing the new situation he found himself in, literally. He panic called several times in a row unaware the Ethan entered the room behind him. Slipping his hands around Aaron’s waist, Ethan pulled him in. The shocked new inhabitant of his husband’s body turned around shocked at the pull, turning around to figure out what’s happening. As he turned his head, Ethan dominantly went in for a kiss. Unbeknownst to Ethan, Aaron initially panicked and moved to resist the kiss before melting into the moment.

He couldn’t resist. If this was a dream, he might as well live it up. Aaron disregarded who he looked like and played the role he always wanted to be. A doting loving husband. He used context clues and realized Mark wasn’t the most domineering of the two, but used a little initiative to motion to the bed. Ethan pulled him over as the continued to make out, Aaron’s new husband savagely ripped off the boxers he was wearing. Ethan pushed Aaron to bend over on the bed, ass up just like he liked it. It was a side of Ethan that Aaron never saw while babysitting Billy but he was savoring every single moment.

Aaron’s new husband romantically kissed him from behind again before having his head shoved onto the bed. A tongue quickly beginning to then explore his hole before a familiar to the body but foreign to Aaron sensation arrived. Ethan quickly entered before slowly rocking back out. That odd tempo was weird to understand at first before Aaron quickly accepted the pace and went with it.

Across the city, Mark was still enjoying his self-pleasure rodeo grunting and moaning as he pounded his new body’s meat. The vitality of a younger body was something he previously lost along the way of life but was thankful to have once again. This body knew its way in a gym clearly so what would’ve broken a sweat previously was like child’s play now. Stroking back and forth, Mark used his free hand to try and stimulate himself the way he used to, trying to explore his hole. His new body nearly protested itself. Way too tight, never seemingly been explored. A strict dom top? He should’ve known. That discovery almost erotic itself turning Mark on even more.

The universe seemingly playing its hand once again as both men on both sides of the city climaxing at the same time. Both independently relishing their new situations. Both getting what they wanted without the need to sacrifice seemingly anything?

Aaron turned to Ethan doting to him almost pleading with his eyes to go again. While Mark picked up a nearby shirt and made his way to a pre-school workout.

[nuzipilled]

THE GANGS ALL HERE 🗣️🔥‼️ information below the cut, “B” cast ( Doll, Lizzy, Thad) have not been included yet as they dont have a role in the main story yet. feel free to ask any questions, me and @kylelily123abc4 will do our best to answer them (:

UZI

Uzi is a 21 year old woman with an undergraduate in medical engineering, which she was coaxed into by her parents (Namely Khan). She is incredibly adept and smart and prefers the technicalities of weapons engineering, and majors in art on the side. She would like to do it full time, however her parents insist it’s not a “real job.” She volunteers at the local hospital N, V and J are relocated to from overseas so they can continue inpatient care until they are stable enough to be discharged and resume physio / psychotherapy as outpatients. She meets N during his time there and immediately clicks with him, and eventually begins to visit him on her off hours, and continues to visit him even after her contract ends. They end up establishing a relationship together and, after finding it is much less expensive commuting to school, moves in with N, V, J, Cyn and Tessa in their apartment for the semester.

She spent most of her childhood moving around and being bullied—the most significant moment having been when her first kiss was stolen by someone who only dated her because he was dared to.

Uzi is a big fan of all things anime, edgy humor, hot topic, and nightcore. she’s got the soul of an unabashed 2000s emo girl stuck in the modern day.

N

Private first class Nate (all his friends call him N) Is a 23 year old man who was fostered from a family in Utah alongside his sister Cyn under Tessa, another childhood friend, and the Elliot family in Melbourne Australia from the ages of 8-18. When of applicable age, he went back to the United States to enlist in the marines and live with Cyn, a former child prodigy who was scouted and given multiple scholarships due to record breaking academics and reflexes on simulator games.

He was severely traumatized during his first deployment overseas along with his other childhood friends, V, and J, after their humvee hit an IED during a routine supply run. All three were critically injured and the sole survivors of their team of 6. He, along with J and V spent a total of 12 hours alone in the desert before they were airlifted to an emergency hospital in germany, then, once stabilized, returned to the states to resume inpatient care in Salem, Oregon.

Despite his honorable discharge and severe ptsd diagnosis, N does his best to remain upbeat and positive, almost to a fault, oftentimes repressing “bad” thoughts or feelings.

He ends up meeting Uzi in the hospital and they form a relationship together, her eventually moving in and living with V, J, Him, Tessa, and Cyn in their flat after they’re discharged from the hospital.

J

Sergeant Jane (Only preferring J when around close friends) is a 26 year old trans woman who was fostered from an immigrant afghan family under Tessa, another childhood friend, and the Elliot family in Melbourne Australia from the ages of 4-18, having realized she was a woman very early in life. She began socially transitioning at 12, and began HRT as soon as she aged out of the system. She was the first to be involved with the Elliots and was pushed to enlist in the australian military, quickly moving up the ranks to sergeant and was eventually posted in the united states to assist in training other cadets. She was severely traumatized during her second deployment overseas along with her other childhood friends, V, and N after their humvee hit an IED during a routine supply run. All three were critically injured and the sole survivors of their team of 6. she, along with J and V spent a total of 12 hours alone in the desert before they were airlifted to an emergency hospital in germany, then, once stabilized, returned to the states to resume inpatient care in Salem, Oregon.

Having been their squad leader, J often blames herself for the incident, even if she doesn’t talk about it or say anything out loud. J is an ass kisser. She will do anything and everything to succeed and has a Holier Than Thou personality, often very uptight and not about any bullshit. Her relationship with N specifically is horrible, and she harbours lots of jealousy and resentment from their time growing up due to favoritism.

She has a long standing, massive crush on Tessa Elliot, her longtime confidant and friend, though it went unrequited for their entire childhood and into their early adult life, J often being subject to Tessa’s dating endeavours and crushes in the meantime.

V

Lance Corporal Victoria, (Who prefers to go by V present day) 4-18 who was fostered from a family in Vermont under Tessa, another childhood friend, and the Elliot family in Melbourne Australia from the ages of 8-18. She enlisted in the military alongside J and eventually N, and was transferred to the states to assist in training procedures for new cadets with J.

She was decommissioned during her second deployment overseas along with N and J after their humvee hit an IED during a routine supply run. All three were critically injured and the sole survivors of their team of 6. She took the brunt of the blast, sustaining the most severe wounds and was airlifted to an emergency hospital in germany, then, once stabilized, returned to the states to resume inpatient care in Salem, Oregon.

The doctors operating on her told her she would never walk again--V proved that wrong by walking the next week. It was a miracle—however V simply states it was due to “having that dog in her.”

She is very resilient, but is often grumpy with a dry sense of tone and humor. She used to have feelings for N when they were kids, but it's since faded as they grew and disappeared during their time in active duty. Though despite this, she still cares for him as a friend, even if she rarely shows it.

She is the first to be discharged, having been set up in an apartment downtown by Tessa, who lives with her and eventually is joined by N, J, Cyn, and eventually Uzi. She is a gym rat with a heavy workout regimen that she will make everyone else's problem if its interrupted.

CYN

Cynthia (Who ONLY goes by Cyn present day) is N's little sister. She is still in active duty in the military air-force. She was a child savant who graduated highschool at 14 and college at 18, moving on to become one of the best UAV operators in history, with successful missions reaching into the hundreds. Cyn is autistic and physically disabled, having been born with cerebral palsy, and uses forearm crutches as mobility aids--but make no mistake, she is incredibly intuitive and adept. often knock-kneed and walks with an awkward gate, and speaks with very ‘robotic’ mannerisms. She sometimes struggles to show empathy in a ‘socially normal way’ or have a conversational filter. She has a very dark sense of humor as well, that for those not used to her may find jarring or off putting. Cyn hates being referred to as a child or incompetent because of her appearance or her disability, she will even go to an extent to prove the point that she does not need assistance. Tends to be protective of N, to a lesser but still protective of V and J and much later down the line Uzi becomes a close friend of hers.

In her off time she enjoys painting warhammer figurines, collecting cards and playing video games. She has a very kitsch, macabre sense of interest, often owning eclectic, odd knick knacks and memorabilia, namely a taxidermied wombat she’s affectionately named “Suzie.”

TESSA

Dr Tessa James Elliot is a very talented surgeon working out of a public hospital in Brisbane, Australia, descending from a very rich family. She is N, V and J’s childhood friend and frequently travels to different parts of the world to assist in surgeries or specialist care. Tessa paused all of her work when she learned of their incident overseas, flying to America to personally attend to their care–with some bribery and finagling due to HIPPA not allowing biased treatment. She just cares too much to not do anything. Tessa is a joyful, social butterfly. Excellent bedside manner and a good sense of humor but sometimes comes off as socially awkward. She is J’s lifelong crush despite not being aware of it, having spent some time dating around but nobody ever seems to be the right fit. She often complains about her recent dating endeavors to J much to her chagrin.

Tessa is, for the lack of a better word, weird. Think Cyn with a little more charisma, often not having a conversational filter or saying things out of the blue. She is not disturbed by otherwise off putting things like death, bodily fluids, nudity, gore etc, and has a bit of a dark sense of humor that she portrays very upbeat and positively. She is incredibly smart and adept bookwise, however socially she comes up a bit short.

there is an alternative version of these guys however it is 18+ for nudity. you can see it on bluesky here and twitter here

[sleepyconfusedpotato]

Hey can I ask? What will Jade and Ghost son/daughter would look like if they ever had a kid?

okay so this topic about Ghost and Jade's fam in the future has been asked like REPEATEDLY on my ask box since the dawn of Jade's creation LMAO

but thanks to @alypink I finally got to thinking about it and I finally had the time to to draw it! Here it goes! (❁´◡`❁)

Ghost and Jade has three children, Andrew, Jay, and Orion.

Andrew Thomas Riley - (His middle name is named after his late uncle, Tommy) Face looks exactly like Jade, but with Ghost's hair and eye colors. Loves Manchester City so much and dreams of being like Kevin de Bruyne. He has a bright personality like Jade, but has Ghost's competitiveness. A bit annoying, but only he gets to tease his siblings. WOULD FIGHT for his siblings.

Grace Jael Riley - (named after her maternal grandma, Gracie Le Jardin). Her nickname is Jay (Jael ("jay-el") to differentiate her from her grandmother. Face looks exactly like Ghost, but with Jade's hair and eye colors. She's into music - playing guitars and pianos - and loves to write poems. Jay has Ghost's personality and much rather stay in the corners. Spends a lot of time with her grandparents. Jay has some scary ability to make people speak out their hearts to her (blackmail). Her grandma might have some explaining to do.

Orion Riley - A child of Greek descent from Jade's former orphanage where Ghost and Jade often volunteer in. Orion had similar circumstances with Ghost. Orion's father was a drug dealer and addict, and in his intoxicated state had killed his mother. The Rileys then took him as a foster. He is distant and fearful at first, but with the family's nurturing and warm environment, Orion starts to loosen up and finally feels the warmth of a family. VERY close with Ghost and Jay.

Soon after marrying, the Rileys live in Herefordshire, where the SAS residency is. Jade opened a branch of The Garden, and Ghost himself still works as an SAS soldier. Ghost's deployments are short periods, but a lot of deployments every year, so he tries to spend as much time as he can with his kids when he's home, like playing football with Andrew, singing with Jay (however... unique his voice is), and draw with Orion. The way the kids IMMEDIATELY falls asleep when Ghost's reading them bed time stories AAAAAAA.

A very equally disciplined and warm home, they have their shenanigans, but they work every issue out. The grandparents often come to visit and help Jade take care of the kids when Ghost is not home.

Former MI6 black agents from mom's side of the family, and full-on SAS operators for dad and the uncles. Safest group of kids on the planet.

So those are the Lovely Rileys! Hope you love it *(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭*ଘ

[newbieecosocalistboy]

I hate being a former foster child and an autistic person with additional disabilities combined, and everything I do just fizzles out into nothing, i will kill myself before i become 31 if this situation does not change.

If I don't get out of the support system in the next few months – something I've been trying to do for 15 years – and if I don't get assurance that it will be resolved by the summer, I will be irreparably damaged and might as well give up. I feel trapped and probably won't survive another year.

I can't take it anymore; for 15 years, I've worked hard to get out of youth welfare and special education, got a decent middle school diploma and a good vocational qualification, only to now, more than a decade later, be rotting in assisted living and being unemployable. Everything has been for nothing so far!

I keep deteriorating, I can't maintain friendships or social interactions in general, I'm losing more and more practical life skills, I'm practically becoming institutionalized. My social and professional skills have recently regressed to the same level as they were in 2008. Within this year, I've lost everything I worked so hard for. And the friends who could understand my pain understandably want nothing more to do with me.

I did a crappy apprenticeship and even attended rehab so I could get my own apartment, earn money, and finally get a cat or a dog, which I've wanted for 24 years! I can't even manage the simple goal of getting my own place and a cat.

Four years after finishing my apprenticeship, just turned 30, and I'm deeper in the system than before, have lost skills, and my health is as bad as it was in 2009 when I had just come out of special school?! Every time I return to my shared housing or have appointments with social workers, I end up worse off, every single time. How am I supposed to get out of this?

They don't even understand that I want a practical outcome from my apprenticeship?!

They're always like: "But you've accomplished so much!"

And I'm like, yeah, and what am I supposed to do with that? Do I have an apartment, more than minimum wage, a cat, anything more than I had before the apprenticeship?

And then they say:

"Why do you want those things? The apprenticeship should be enough, shouldn't it?"

It's a loop, a vicious cycle. Nobody gets that I don't find it great to have reached 30 without achieving a single small goal. I talk myself blue in the face with the people who are supposed to be responsible, and nobody understands?!

[sugoi-and-spice]

Chapter Thirty-Two - One Step Forward and Three Steps Back

Summary: Tomura Shigaraki was her dad’s boss’s son. He was the creep that stole girls’ underwear and tried to grope her in his room. But it’s not like he could get her Dad fired just because she wouldn’t sleep with him, right? …right?

CW: Quirkless!AU, Explicit Smut, Dub-Con, Coercion, Blackmail, Cheating, Sexual Guilt, Humiliation, Unhealthy Relationships, Power Play, Hate to Love, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Slow Burn, Racism (New, This Chapter) Suicidal Ideation, Psychiatric Wards, Forcible Sedation, Depiction of a Suicide Attempt

A/N: I'm alive!!! Thank you all for your patience during my bigger than usual gaps between chapters. As I've said in a few posts here (as few and far between as they've been) this has been a pretty crazy Winter that's left me with very little energy to write. I just had to take ANOTHER sudden trip to Florida only five days after I got back from Philly. Rip my sleep schedule TT_TT But I never stop thinking about Play Nice! So I hope this chapter was worth the wait, and thank you all again for your constant support. ❤️

Read Full Chapter on AO3

[excerpt]

She had to admit, Iguchi went above and beyond the call of duty as far as friends go. 

The rain had only gotten heavier by the end of their talk, but he still drove her home to Setagaya, stopping at a Uniqlo on the way there so that she wouldn’t be walking into her house wearing his oversized clothes. He even paid, since her wallet was trapped back with the rest of her possessions in Shigaraki’s room. It was definitely necessary, she could only imagine the ridiculous explanation she’d need to come up with for walking into her house this late at night, wearing some boy’s clothes without any shoes, after hours of missing her parents’, no doubt, countless calls. But it still felt like more kindness than she deserved at this point.

Never before had she felt so guilty over a knit sweater and yoga pants.

Luckily, she wasn’t in quite as deep of shit as either of them might’ve expected. Her dad was away on a business trip this week. And while her mom certainly wasn’t happy to be up so late waiting for her daughter, nursing a cup of tea at the dining table, she did at least take her explanation of “losing track of time at Shigaraki’s and losing her phone at school” at face value.

Or maybe she just noticed the puffiness of her daughter’s eyes and sunkenness of her shoulders, and decided to postpone the consequences to a day where she didn’t look so utterly broken.

Given the fact that she went straight to covering her with a blanket and pouring her a fresh cup of tea, she had a sneaking suspicion that it was the former.

They sat in silence as they sipped their tea, the same brand she’d just left cold at Iguchi’s, she noticed with a sad smile.

She looked up to her mom across the table. The woman was clearly bothered. She wanted to ask her daughter what the hell was going on. Why was she getting in so late? Why was she spending so much time away from home? Why was it that every other time she saw her, she was either crying or about to cry?

Why wasn’t she talking to them anymore? 

But she didn’t push. After all, she was a good mom, and an even better person. Understanding beyond belief when it came to isolation and hurt in particular. Because she’d gone through a world of it.

“People like you, like your father… They mean the world to those of us who’ve been broken.”

The similarity between her mom’s past and Shigaraki’s was definitely a line that she’d drawn before. They both came from foster care, both didn’t like to talk about it. Because of that latter part, it was something she never told either about.

She definitely considered telling Shigaraki, particularly the few times that he’d opened up about his past, but ultimately, it didn’t feel like it was her story to tell. Especially given the fact that she really didn’t know a lot about it. 

Regardless, there was definitely something similar about him that her mother had managed to pick up. Whether it was the exact shared experience or a worldview more nebulous, she wasn’t sure. But it was clear that she held a lot of sympathy for him. And an understanding that she just couldn’t fathom on her own.

An understanding she needed.

“Hey mom…”

Her mother looked up, unable to hide her eagerness to tackle whatever her daughter was struggling with.

“Yes sweetie?”

Her hands tightened around the mug, letting the warmth seep in, hoping that it could give her some strength.

“I… I need to ask you about something…”

Continue on AO3

[miss-dollette]

Ghiaccio’s backstory and (Het.) Romantic headcanons.

Backstory:

Spent most of his time alone, as he felt isolated from the other children because they were afraid of his temper. He was intensely sensitive to others and made sure to express his feelings in the way he showed them the most - rage.

His own siblings didn’t play with him for the same reason. Though they lived in the same home, Ghiaccio was territorial and would snap at them for playing with his toys. It wasn’t just yelling, it was physically destroying things and hitting them with strength fed by his rage.

Extremely intelligent and sporty, his parents praised him for those qualities, but besides that, he wasn’t acknowledged all that often. Instead of getting him help for his anger as a young boy, his parents decided to not bother talking to him, because they’d rather not accidentally trigger him into a rage fit.

This led to him to feeling like a stranger in his own Home. A sense of dread would swell in his chest, as he felt his own family had abandoned him. Despite how he expressed himself, he had a deep love for them, but he was troubled by his overactive anger.

Him and his father would get into fights the most. He began to deeply dislike his father as he grew older.

Puberty hit him like a truck, and his anger issues were fed by his hormones like gasoline. His parents sent him to a school for troubled children after he had gotten expelled from his school for beating another child so badly, he had fallen into a coma.

It didn’t do much to help him, it only made him angrier. And soon enough, his parents couldn’t handle a growing Ghiaccio anymore, and he was given up into the system to be raised by the government. They were afraid of what he could do to his siblings on a bad day.

At Foster care, he began to run away, fighting police officers when they came for him, and he’d spend weeks on end in juvenile detention centers, where he almost thrived in that violent environment. Most of his cell mates were moved to other cells, because he’d beat on them for annoying him.

In the detention centers, he’d spend most of his time vigorously working out, and reading Winter sport magazines, raging when he read anything about his favorite athletes losing or do something stupid. But his favorite thing to do was hurting others. Any excuse would be used to fight.

Once he turned 18 and aged out of the system, he returned home one last time, and beat his father, and was officially exiled from his family.

Found work at a dock, lifting heavy shit and moving things around. He took his first life there. He had killed his former boss with his very fist. An insatiable hunger for the thrill of taking a life bloomed at that moment.

Now a fugitive on the run, he found himself working for Passione as a petty thug, intimidating and beating the crap out of anyone that he was pointed at. His talent for violence and his clearly intelligent mind moved him up in the ranks, until he was summoned by Polpo, and was given his Stand.

Risotto, who saw potential in him, personally asked for him, and trained him into a fine assassin.

La Squadra Di Esecuzione was formed, and Risotto’s investment paid off. Ghaccio was a natural born killer.

Romantic:

Overprotective, to an overbearing degree. If he even gets a hint of disrespect in your direction, the subject of your ire’s nose would be smashed in by his fist (and my god, does he have some power behind those punches), and you’d have to beg him to stop before he kills the poor fool.

On the upside, you don’t have to worry much about disloyalty on his end. He’s loyal as loyal gets. And yes, he is possessive. Once you make your mark on his heart, you’re his - completely. And that’s because it stems from an insecurity from his childhood, where he felt as though everyone who should have stuck around didn’t. He couldn’t bare to lose you. So he’d subtly isolate you from others.

Jealous as hell. This man will monitor you, probably following you when you’re out and about because you didn’t answer your phone that one time, making him spiral into a puddle of insecurity, just thinking about you canoodling with some other guy (fucking).

Would never physically abuse you, but he’d punch the shit out of a wall (classic white boy move) when he got pissed off.

He would need constant reassurance from you if he thought your relationship was threatened. And he’d make constant decisions for you. Partly because he wants to help you, but also to reinforce his dominance over you.

Would try to isolate you. He’d take care of things, under the illusion that he’s being a good boyfriend, but it’s really about you not being exposed to anyone who could take you away.

Don’t even think about wearing those skirts you used to wear before you got with him. He’d control the way you dress, like some fashion dictator. Anything that could get someone else’s attention would drive him completely nuts. He would also want to protect your dignity from prying eyes. Paranoid, much.

And he would have misogynistic tendencies. Not exactly an outright misogynist, but some of his behavior will stem from him being male, and you being female. He would expect loyalty, submission and obedience from you, like a good girlfriend. He would be more likely to disregard your thoughts. He wouldn’t forget what you said, but he wouldn’t give it much mind.

He would limit your independence because “you’re too good for this world, and this world would destroy you.” How touching.

Wow, he would be really toxic as a boyfriend. But he would definitely have a good side.

Could be incredibly sweet and tender when it’s just you and him. He’s a show, don’t tell kind of guy. You won’t hear “I love you,” but you’ll know it.

He doesn’t “half-love” this guy loves with his whole being. He would share his thoughts with you, feeling as though you’re the only one who could fully understand him.

Total show off. Would totally use his stand to ski down the side of a mountain in the middle of the summer just to see your reaction. Would freeze a lake to take you ice skating because he hates how crowded ice skating rinks are. He would do some dumb ass, shit that would equally scare and excite you. Like, picking you up and skating with you in his arms at fast ass speeds. You’d be begging him to let you go, but laughing and giggling at the same time.

Remembers everything. If you mention something you like, he’ll cultivate your interests, gifting you presents of your favorite things.

Overall, a very intense guy, but has a whole lot of heart.

@thus-wrote-mrs-zeppeli

[leavemebetosleep]

Idk if I'll finish this, but here's a sketch of my "what if" if the main baddies were in Equestria Girls. Note I have only watched one EG movie. Working profiles under the cut, subject to change if I come up with something better.

Grogar: 42. Principal of the academy. Corrupt official. Former military. Big fan of the school to prison pipeline. Not interested in reforming his students, he wants more underground connections.

Discord: 17. Not much different from regular Discord, just without powers. Unless being annoying is a super power. Burned his last school down with a prank gone wrong. Aged out of foster care. Great test scores, but short attention span. Class clown. Desperate to be liked. Folds like a napkin whenever anyone is nice to him. Thinks Tirek is his BFF.

Tirek: 16. Committed armed robbery. Just barely managed to get tried as a minor. Was ratted out by his brother, and they no longer are on speaking terms. Daddy issues from parental favoritism. Absolutely planning to go back to crime as soon as he's out. Tolerates Discord because he lets Tirek cheat off his homework, but actually thinks he's annoying and clingy.

Cozy Glow: 8. Manipulative and a likely a child prodigy. Repeated instances being a danger to other students in her former school. Has been expelled multiple times. Tartarus was the last school that would take her. Has a baby crush on Tirek. Family never visits.

Chrysalis: 15. Disowned from her family. Committed crimes to survive homelessness, but has become more and more ruthless. No one can seem to get through to her anymore. Smart and calculating. Flirts with people and/or acts nice only when she wants things.

Sombra: 16. White collar crimes. Rich kid. Can't believe his parents couldn't buy off the judge. Only one who wears the uniform properly. Doesn't get along with any of the others, and wants to go back to his fancy private school already. Think he's above these weird poor people.

[nocofamilyau]

Heyy

I just thought of smth. (CW: child abuse)

I wanna draw a fanart, like a family portrait and also baby Raj. Being cute.

I also wanna make this AU (if it isn’t canon for your AU. Probs isn’t) like, where Mike was shy (like Dave) because he was an abused child by a former foster family. Or something. I thought of this in the shower while listening to End-World Normopathy so of course it sucks, okay?

1. please do both those things.. would love to see em!

2. Hmm, cuz that's not too unlike what happens in the AU's canon, like Mike was treated like absolute shit while in foster care..cool to see where you'd take it from there

[pixiecactus]

there's something to be said about the fact that arya has been told time and time again that her looks and personality are not satisfactory enough to be a lady of a great house. how the willful part of herself has to be erased completely for her to be successfully introduced to westerosi society. she has an enormous difficult time trying to conform and is deemed a failure by her educator.

(fuck you, septa mordane! and also why catelyn never put two and two together over the fact that arya only failed the septa's lessons and not with the other educators when said woman talked only shit about her child; she just went alongside the septa... no wonder that your own child thinks that you won't love her if she happens to be dirty and with her hair messy and tangled enough, catelyn! she thinks that she needs to be deserving of your motherly love. it gets worse; poor arya was so desperately convinced that her mother wouldn't want her back that she accidentally pulled off sections of her own hair trying to comb her badly cut hair. that's a deeply distressed child and it breaks my heart everytime i think about it... as a reader, i know that you loved all of your children, but for fuck's sake, catelyn, you let it get this way for long enough time)

how it's completely insane that arya did never knew how different northern ladies are from their southern counterparts and how she happens to fit perfectly with the former. ned and catelyn went: "southern is the only way to go" in respect to the girls education and called it a day, really.

(my petty ass really wants to write: "ned stark and catelyn tully were really the most southern people living in the north" and "that's what being fostered in the south does to a northern mf")

but even when we have all of this messing up arya's sense of self-worth and self-esteem to a great extent. we still have some of arya's brothers being the biggest arya's supporters that had ever lived in westeros.

said brothers that when they happen to like or admire a girl, they can't help themselves to compare her to their beloved sister arya.

we saw it with jon and ygritte, and with bran and meera, and we could even make the case of rickon with his motherly figure osha if we had more info. and all of them are northern women that didn't get a southern education.

how the stark brothers (yes, jon is included in this group) really love arya for who she already is, to the point that they want to surround themselves with girls/women with a similar enough personality, and that for me is one of the biggest compliments you can give to a person.

also if this post of mine claiming that i can't give catelyn a pass due her treatment of arya, makes people say that i'm misogynist so be it, i'm over it... i was once a child in arya's position with a parental figure that favoured another child, and always made comparisons between us, that made me feel awful, and to this day whenever this person talks to me to let me know that they care about me, and they love me i can't help myself to think that they only do it because they pity me and what became of me and that's a fear and hurt that will never leave me and how this could also be the case for arya growing up since catelyn is dead and lady stoneheart is mostly an embodiment of revenge (i realize that this could imply that this parental figure is transphobic, and meanwhile i have to say that they most probably are since i grew up in a conservative family, they don't know that i've transitioned and i will never tell them either)

[reidsrambles]

Something More and Second Chances

Chapter 3

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader // Second chance

Description: You're stunned when your former friends with benefits shows up at your new job—and nearly a decade after you ghosted him. It turns out, he works in the same building, and he definitely hasn't forgotten about you. Will your apologies be enough? What happens if he does forgive you? Does time truly heal all wounds? (Content/Warnings below the cut)

Content/Warnings: [18+ MDNI], smut, friends with benefits, oral sex (F receiving), PIV sex, condomless sex, IUD birth control, mention of abortion (in the context of being on the same page prior to sex), riding, soft dom M, praise kink F.

This fic is quite emotionally heavy, and both Spencer and Reader delve deep into past traumas. None is current. If any of these topics may be triggering or upsetting to you, please skip this one: child abuse, child abandonment, attachment issues, foster care, adoption, CPS, bullying, trust issues, mental health issues, misunderstandings, ghosting, and Reader mentions that she possibly committed emotional infidelity in the past, thinking about Spencer while with another partner.

Names used: Baby, good girl

Words (this chapter): 6,118

Words (total): 12,462

The world stills as Spencer cuts the engine of his car in the parking spot beside yours. Being a chilly fall evening, you chose to wait in your car. You only had to wait a minute for him to pull in after you, but your car is already an almost-uncomfortable level of cool without the heat blasting. 

The short drive to your house was silent and full of more reflection than you had expected. Thinking about fucking Spencer again was exciting. Will he be as submissive as he used to be? You got wetter and squirmed in your car seat just thinking about how Spencer used to beg for praise; beg to be told what a good boy he was being. Has he developed any new kinks? Maybe he’ll be more dominant and instruct you to get on your knees and suck? Fuck. You want it all with him.

That’s the problem, though. You want it all with him. A sense of dread quickly overshadows thoughts of the act. Every thought about sex with Spencer brings up other scenarios. Cuddling and watching movies with him, just like the olden days. Grocery shopping with him every week, because when you did it together, it didn’t feel like such a chore. His soft, featherlight kisses as you woke up. He didn’t want to wake you too fast. He just wanted to kiss you. Showering with him after sex. You both justified it as common sense. You were both sweaty and gross. Why take two separate showers? But those showers always turned into washing each other, making out, laughing together…

Conversely, you thought about your life now. How lonely your couch, bed, and shower are. How much you still despise grocery shopping alone. Thinking about how things were with him in college, your chest swells with warmth, but your throat tightens up.

You push your car door open, the crisp air sending a chill straight to your bones. Spencer follows you inside.

You flip a light switch, illuminating your open-concept kitchen and living room. You turn on only the under-cabinet lights in the kitchen, keeping the harsh overhead lights off. The space is dimly lit by the glow from the kitchen.

“This place is really nice,” he says, looking around as he hangs his jacket up in your entryway. You kick your smart, chunky heels off, letting them stay wherever they fall. Spencer slips his Converse off before picking them up and placing them in an empty spot on your shoe rack. He still wears the same type of shoes. Not at all surprising. This pair looks so worn and dirty, though. He badly needs a new pair.

He loosely points to the art hanging over your couch and stills. 

“You still have that painting?”

You look at the painting on the wall, only about the size of standard printer paper. The frame is too small to fill the space on the wall and it clashes with your current decor, but you’ve never wanted to take it down. 

After a difficult final exam season, Spencer gifted it to you. Shy, quiet Spencer reached out to a Fine Arts student and commissioned a watercolor painting of Pemberley House from the 1995 BBC adaptation of Pride and Prejudice. Pride and Prejudice is on the list of your all-time favorite novels—a list that is far too long. How can anyone have a single favorite novel? Reading Pride and Prejudice over and over is one of the reasons you survived high school. It was a familiar world to escape into. When it felt like there was a tornado of chaos ripping through the town called Your Life, letting your mind run away to Longbourn and Pemberley gave you just enough strength to make it through each day. There was something so comforting about reading the final word of a book and then turning back to the first page again. That’s how you learned the tremendous strength of the written word.

“I like it,” you say. “I wasn’t going to throw it out just because it made me think of you.”

Your words fail to convey just how much you love that piece. Whether intentional or not, you aren't sure.

“I’m glad you liked it enough to keep it all these years.” 

The flirty, light conversation at the coffee shop is gone, replaced by awkward, restless apprehension. Making a move now, in the privacy of your home, is definitive. It isn’t conceptual anymore. It’s real. 

“Spencer, can we chat?” you ask, gesturing to your couch.

His brows furrow in concern and he stands straighter, following you to your couch. “Yeah, of course.” 

Sitting next to Spencer on the couch, you know you’ve made the right decision. Even if this doesn’t go the way you want it to, you need to say your piece. 

Before you can start, Spencer says, “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, just to make that clear.”

A small smile flashes across your face. “I appreciate that, Spence, but that isn’t—” 

Spence. Your old nickname for him.

“That isn’t what I need to bring up,” you continue. “On the drive over here, I started thinking some more about how things were between us in college. The sex was obviously great. But as you know, it was never just sex for either of us, and we didn’t set the proper boundaries for a friends with benefits relationship. We did a lot of boyfriend-girlfriend type stuff together, and feelings got confused.”

Spencer stays quiet and nods as you speak. 

“My feelings weren’t confused, though. Not about you, at least. I fell in love with you. I loved you. The confused part was me not knowing how to deal with those feelings.”

After a momentary lull in the conversation, Spencer says, “I mean, I don’t have to tell you how in love with you I was back then. I wasn’t very good at hiding it. I just wish I had been.”

“Spencer, if it helps, I did feel that love from you, even though I wasn't able to accept it properly. And though I left, I think that the love that I felt for you is what's kept you in my head all these years. Look, we haven’t seen each other in many years. I’m really glad we got to clear up a lot of loose threads tonight, but I realized on the drive over here that I can’t sleep with you if it’s just going to be a hookup.”

Testing the waters, you gingerly place a hand on his arm. He doesn’t flinch or try to move. 

Gathering all the courage from within you, you say, “I want to be with you. I want to be in a relationship with you. For real, this time. It doesn’t have to be right this second and we can keep getting to know—”

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, I want to be in a relationship with you.”

“…Like, now?”

The weight of the room lifts from your chest as he breathes a laugh. “Yes, now. Unless you’ve become some entirely different person since college—which I highly doubt you have—I want you, Y/N. I’ve wanted you since college. I need you to be honest with me, though. I need you to tell me if you feel an urge to pull away or if I’m being too much. I need you to communicate with me. That’s all I ask going into this. We can work through things together, but I’m not a mind reader.” 

A shaky laugh escapes you from relief as you nod. You placed your heart in your hands and offered it to him. He was gentle and took it from you with love and care. 

“If you’ve committed any major crimes,” he adds, “that would be a deal-breaker, though.”

You laugh and slump down against the back of the couch, still reeling. 

“What about minor crimes?” you ask.

“I suppose it depends on how minor,” he says playfully. His hand grazes your knee before resting just above it. You fight the urge to part your legs into his touch.

“I actually can’t think of any laws I’ve broken…”

He leans down to your ear and whispers, “Knew it,” and the sensation of his breath against your skin has you angling your head away from him. The muscles of your thighs twitch, and with his hand remaining on your knee, you know he notices the movement.

Spencer sits back up, turning his body towards you on the couch. A moment passes solely looking at each other and admiring each other. His eyes look so soft and kind. With your hands still on each other’s knees, you let your fingers dance against his skin. His chest is rising and falling, occasional sharp breaths hitching in his throat as the space between your body inches closed. 

He’s yours. You’re his. Drawing close to his body feels like returning home. 

“Please kiss me, Spencer,”

“Gladly,” he breathes.

The side of his face is illuminated in a way that makes him look like an actor in a movie—you, his leading lady; as though, if you looked to the side, you’d see a film crew and those big movie lights filling your living room. He looks angelic, leaning down over you. Your eyes fall shut as his lips hit yours. It feels both new and familiar. The kisses are soft—almost hesitant. Almost. 

One of Spencer’s hand cups your face. The other sweeps up your mid-back to pull you towards him. You grasp his arm, gently digging your nails in—a silent plea to never stop touching you.

Eyes closed, you’re navigating his body by touch only. When Spencer pulls away and rests his forehead on yours, panting breaths dancing in the small space between your lips and you breathe, “I’ve missed you.”

Spencer replies, first, without words. His hand moves to the back of your head, outstretched fingers gliding through your hair as he pulls you in for a deeper kiss. Your lips part so easily for him. It’s odd how recognizable his mouth tastes. Some deep corner of your memory was reserved for the taste of him.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he sighs. “I can’t even begin to tell you how many times I’ve dreamed about kissing you again.”

When you look at Spencer again, his eyelids are heavy. He looks dazed.

Slowly, but without hesitation, you shift into a more comfortable position. Without breaking eye contact, you gently take his hand and place it on your chest, causing his breath to hitch.

“Is that the only thing you’ve dreamed of?” you ask, letting your weight settle in his lap. “Because it isn’t the only thing I’ve dreamed of.”

He’s already hard. You subtly rock your hips against the bulge beneath you, and Spencer’s head falls back with a pained groan.

You place a soft kiss on his jaw before working your way down the buttons of his shirt, needing to feel his skin.

“I’ve fantasized about doing so many things to you,” he says. “It felt so good in the moment,” he flicks his gaze away momentarily, “and so shameful after.”

“What did you think about Spence? Did you touch yourself thinking about me?”

“Far too many times,” he laughs. His hands roam your body as he squirms under your hips in search of more friction. “I mean, I thought about whatever memories I had from college at first. Eventually, I had to start coming up with new scenarios.” 

Attempting to not come across too presumptuous, you smirk and ask, “So, did you think about me… often?”

He sighs. Though the conversation has delved into a possibly touchy topic, you continue to gently rock your hips against him, an action he reciprocates. A subtle reminder that you still want this. You still want him.

“Sorry, that’s probably really weird.” He closes his eyes and dips his chin down. “I wasn’t dating. Eventually, I got really busy with work. You can imagine how long and intense some of these cases are. Thinking about you felt like a harmless escape, you know?”

You swipe a finger across his plush lower lip. Watching his lips while he spoke, all you wanted to do was kiss him. As your hand falls from his lip and down his arm, you show him just how hot you find it that he thought about you while jerking off. Spencer’s shame seems to dissipate as he whimpers at the contact.

“Does it make you feel better if I tell you that I thought about you, too?” 

He nods quietly in response, his eyes squeezing shut.

“Whenever I felt particularly alone in life,” you continue, fighting the shame that arises, “thoughts of you tended to pop up, and so I leaned into them at points. Some nights, when I couldn’t fall asleep, the only thing that could get me to relax enough was lying on my side, wrapping my arm around one of my pillows, and imagining you were holding me again.”

Spencer doesn’t waste a moment after you finish speaking before pulling you down to his mouth with a fervor you haven’t seen from him yet tonight. You’re so glad you were able to swallow those shameful feelings, because, oh, that turned him on, alright. His hands grip tightly on your hips as he grinds upwards.

His body is tense and stiff. The slight sheen across his forehead is just barely visible in the dimness. His expression is pained, but his voice simply sounds dejected when he says, “Tell me that you want this.”

He stills, his chest rising and falling in heaving breaths. Your heart swells to twice its size before shattering into a million pieces. It’s mended immediately thereafter by his need for reassurance. You know you need to repair his trust in you. You know that it’ll take time and effort, but you’ll prove to him that he doesn’t need to worry about pushing you away with his affection anymore. What used to repel you now draws you in. You don’t want to run and hide. Spencer asking for reassurance and you wanting to do nothing but comfort him feels like winning an Olympic medal. This is what you so badly wished you could have been for him in the past, and now you have the ability to. 

“Well, on the drive over here, I was thinking about your dick, obviously.” His lips press together into a smile at that, and you giggle momentarily. “But I also couldn’t stop thinking about all the stuff we did in college that I was too afraid to admit was boyfriend-girlfriend stuff. I still hate grocery shopping by myself,” you smile. “I miss when you’d take me to the movies and explain all the stuff I missed after I fell asleep on your shoulder. I want you to meet both my moms, and as my boyfriend this time.” 

Later, you’ll tell him about how much of a good impression he made on the mom that he accidentally met, because before you dropped out of school, she’d ask you how your boyfriend was every time she’d call. 

Palm to palm, you slide your fingers between his. “Spence, I want this.” You press a soft, tender kiss to his lips, trying to momentarily ignore the sharp throbbing between your legs. “I want you. I want everything that we used to have and more. I want to be your girlfriend and give you every part of me that I couldn’t give you before.” 

Spencer’s jaw is slack as he pants, completely awestruck.

Everything about the way that tonight has progressed feels like a dream. If you close your eyes too hard, you fear that you’ll wake up alone in your bed. You need to keep touching him, if only to prove to yourself in some capacity that he’s actually here and not a figment of your sleeping consciousness. Pressing your weight further into his lap for one deep, long grind against his bulge, Spencer chokes down a whine, and you sigh a shuddered breath at the broad pressure. 

“Spence, can I ride you, baby?”

“I just need to feel you as soon as humanly possible.”

You lift your hips and he frees himself from his pants. 

“Shit,” he sighs. “I don’t have any condoms. I didn’t think—”

You stare at his bare cock and try to see through the fog of lust in order to think clearly. A glossy bead of pre-cum decorates the tip and you just want to lick it off.

“I don’t have any, either. If you still want to do this, though, I got an IUD two years ago and I’ve been tested since my last partner. If something were to happen, I wouldn’t be keeping it. If that’s okay with you, I’m down for whatever.” You’re gently swaying your hips above him, desperate for friction. You, selfishly, want this so bad, so you just hope that he doesn’t feel pressured. 

He’s sharply nodding his head before he can get any words out, eyes locked on the space between your legs as his nails dig into your hips. “I’ve been tested. All of that is—great, perfect.”

Thank god. 

You stand, desperate to get your work clothes off. If you had been alone, you would’ve been in your pajamas within minutes of getting home. 

Standing in front of him, still fully clothed, your confidence gets a bit of a boost as Spencer mindlessly fists his cock, loosely jerking it as he watches you.

As each item of clothing comes off, down to your basic, nude-colored bra and mismatched underwear, Spencer’s grip on himself tightens. You don’t drag it out on purpose, but seeing him this unraveled already is downright intoxicating. 

As soon as you crawl back on top of him, you’re back at his lips. Kissing him is also downright intoxicating.

You sit up straight, and Spencer slips, first one finger, then two into you, pumping them gently in and out a few times. You steady yourself with a hand on his shoulder as he aligns himself between your legs. 

Feeling Spencer Reid slide inside you again heals an emptiness deep within you that you weren’t even cognizant of before. It feels fucking spiritual. 

Your jaw drops open as an obscene moan falls from your lips. Spencer practically swallows it as he pulls you down to his lips. It feels like a cliché to say that he fits perfectly inside you, but sitting fully on his cock, that’s the only thing that your brain can process—how perfect he feels. 

“Fuck, baby,” he all-but cries into your mouth.

You lift your hips and slowly begin to ride him. 

“Yeah?” he asks, panting. “Should I just keep trying different pet names, or do you have a list of ones you like now?”

“Try me.”

His grip on your hips tightens as you pick up your pace. “Good girl?”

You jerk your hips against him and moan, almost laughing at how visceral a reaction that was.

“I suppose that’s a yes?” he laughs.

“I used to loathe praise, but now it does that to me.” 

You internally cringe for a moment, thinking about the one time Spencer tried to tell you what a good job you were doing riding him. You angrily got out of bed and left, leaving both you and him confused because you had no idea why it made you so upset. Now? You want to show him that he has you, fully and completely. It feels natural to submit to him like this, and it seems like it feels natural for him to take on this more dominant role. 

You lift your hips up to the head of his cock before gliding back down, and he pulls your hips down to hold you in place, exhaling roughly.

“No, no, no. If you do that again, I’m not going to last, baby.” His hands roam your body as he pulls you into a tight hug against his chest, only allowing you to grind your hips. He sucks on a nipple before nuzzling his face into your chest and groaning. “Do you have any idea how fucking perfect you are?”

When you freeze and don’t respond, Spencer looks up at you. Searching your face, he says, more sternly this time, “If you don’t believe it now, just give me a chance to make you believe it.”

You’ve already done so much inner-work on your self-esteem and confidence, but it’s still hard to receive such direct, honest praise in that way. He could make you believe it, though. That, you’re certain of.

“Can we go to my room?” you ask, and Spencer nods in return.

You quickly pull the corners of your messed sheets into place, Spencer assisting you on the other side. You’ve never been one to make your bed. 

You lay down on the bed, ready to let Spencer take charge. He crawls on top of you and, after thoroughly kissing your mouth and neck, works his way down your body, worshipping every spot he touches as though he may never get to touch you again. 

When he lands between your legs, he lifts one over his shoulder before gliding his fingers between your lips, spreading your wetness.

“God, look at you,” he says, entranced. 

When you look between your legs and see Spencer shaking his head as he admires your body, you feel like you could cum on the spot. You slide one hand into his hair as the other tightly grips the skin of your thigh, biting your nails into the flesh to cope. Spencer wraps his arm around your thigh, finding your hand and clasping his fingers between yours from above it.

You whimper as your hips squirm, desperate at this point. His hot breath against your wet clit feels like torture.

“Are you needy for me, baby?”

You just whimper and nod, unable to find the words to accurately convey how badly you need him.

“Put another pillow behind you and sit up more,” he says. "I want you to watch.”

Well, fuck. This is going to ruin you.

Eyes locked with his, he licks up between your lips, moaning at the taste. You throw your head back and squeeze your eyes shut on contact, but Spencer pulls away, letting his hot breath dance across your wet skin.

“I said, eyes on me, baby.” 

The sight of his face between your legs as he eats you out is almost too much to bear, but you know that’s the point.

A bit more hesitantly, he asks, “You want to be a good girl for me, don’t you?”

Your squirming, moaning reaction to his words seems to be all the encouragement he needed as he dives in, finally sucking and licking and tasting you like a starved man. You use every ounce of willpower to keep your eyes locked on his. 

You developed this praise kink a number of years ago, but Spencer’s praise is something else. It sparks something deep inside of you. All the history between you and this complete 180 flip of the sexual dynamic has you on cloud nine. Some door inside you is actively being unlocked, or some flood gate is bursting. 

“Spence,” you say, getting his attention. 

“What’s wrong? Do you want me to stop?” he asks, immediately on alert and trying to read you.

“No, no. Not at all,” you say, shaking your head. “It’s just, we didn’t really do oral in the past. This feels fucking amazing, trust me. But I’ve never finished with oral before, so I don’t want you to expect it or be upset if I don’t.”

He reaches his hand up to cup your jaw, still slightly out of breath. “Hey, I don’t care about that at all, if you don’t. I just want you to feel good. I’d be happy to sit here and eat you out all night if that’s what you wanted and if it made you feel good. You can tell me to stop at any point or we can move on to something else, okay?”

Safe. You’re safe. Spencer is happy to keep going. He isn’t expecting anything from you, besides wanting you to feel good. This is good. This is safe.

You nod gently. “Promise me that you’ll stop at any point, too. I need to know that you feel safe stopping or moving on at any point, too.”

“Of course,” he says quietly. His eyes seem to sparkle as he reassures you, and you know he means it. He nuzzles his head against your thigh and aimlessly kisses the sensitive skin. “But can I please keep going? I can assure you that I’m not ready to be done yet.”

“Please?” you whisper.

“Close your eyes if you need to, baby,” he says against your inner thigh. “Focus on how good it feels.”

You watch him start again, but let your eyes fall shut naturally as he finds his rhythm again. Letting your hands roam up to your chest, you massage your breasts, pinching and pulling at your nipples. 

As your head falls further back and your hips find their own rhythm to compliment his, he slips “look at you” and “so good” in with breaths. 

You feel truly relaxed for a change. You trust his words. You aren’t in your head, wondering if your body looks okay from down there or consciously arching your back to avoid rolls. The way your body feels is all that you can focus on. It’s as if Spencer has quieted or turned off every other part of your waking mind, because right now, all that exists is him. All that exists is this feeling rising through your body and his shared experience with him.

And then he stops. Lifting your head, you watch him stare stupidly as he slowly pushes two fingers inside of you. Your hips first roll away, and then back into his hand as he fully enters you. You hadn’t even realized how empty you had felt without something inside you, and you throw your head back with a moan as you grind into his stilled hand.

“Fuck, yes. You’re such a good girl, baby. Look at how good you’re being for me.” 

His mouth reattaches to your clit as he subtly pumps his fingers in and out of you, and it takes everything within you to not scream. This is it. This is what you needed. 

“I—Spencer, it feels too—I don’t know if I can—” you say, your whole body squirming against his mouth and hand. 

Your squirms turn into jerks and Spencer says, “Hands on my head, baby. Fuck my face. Make yourself feel good for me.”

Sliding your fingers through his hair as you clasp his head on both sides, you grind your clit against his tongue as he continues to work inside you, adjusting his fingers until you gasp, “Oh, god. Don’t move. Right there.”

You know what it feels like when you’re close. But you’ve never climaxed like this. The build has never felt like this. This is already the most vulnerable and intimate sex you’ve had, by orders of magnitude. 

Spencer’s free hand shifts from your thigh to gently press down on your lower stomach, the external pressure swelling the pulsating thrum between your legs.

“Spence, baby, I’m close,” you cry.

Spencer moans into your clit loudly, his fingers curling and twisting and fucking you with a burst of might. Looking down and seeing Spencer between your legs—your boyfriend, Spencer—you feel the tightness in your abdomen spread through your body as a tingling warmth. 

“Oh my god,” is all you can manage before the wave of your orgasm crests, every sensation in your body dialed up to maximum. Through blinking eyes, you nod sharply to Spencer as he leads you through your climax. He switches to light, rhythmic licks and steady pumps of fingers as your orgasm works through you.

Utter bliss is the only thing you could use to describe how this feels. 

Spencer is watching his fingers slowly entering and leaving your body as though he’s mesmerized by it. 

“You’re so perfect, Y/N. I still can’t believe that tonight is real. It still just feels like a dream.”

You smirk. “Well, if you fuck me, will that make it feel more real?”

He takes his fingers out and licks them clean. Your body lets you know that it’s had enough recovery time as Spencer moans against your clit, lazily licking it some more. His eyes are closed, trying to savor your taste. He doesn’t want to stop. 

“Spence,” you say, gaining his full attention as he opens his eyes to you. As honestly and vulnerably as you can, you say, “I need you.”

Like he did on his way down, he kisses a trail up your body. At your neck, his kisses turn harsher, no doubt leaving hickies as he sucks at your skin. 

I’m yours, you think. Use me. Take me.

“Yes,” you moan.

His hot breath against your ear sends a shiver down your body. “You like that, baby? You like cumming in my mouth? You like when I mark you?”

You nod against his cheek with a whine. “Spence, please.”

“What, baby?”

“Please fuck me.”

Spencer kisses your jaw and then your mouth. 

“Y/N, I’m not going to last long,” he whines.

“That’s okay,” you laugh, guiding his jaw to make him look at you. “I want to make you feel good.”

His forehead meets yours, and he whispers, “I don’t want this to end yet.”

Not breaking eye contact, you reach down between your bodies and find his cock, wrapping your hand around it. You guide the tip between your soaking wet lips, causing Spencer’s jaw to slack with a weak moan.

“I’m off tomorrow. You can stay here tonight, if you want. We don’t have to leave this bed.”

Spencer attacks your mouth with deep, long kisses, only stopping to moan loudly into your mouth as his cock slides inside you. You arch into his chest as his pace builds.

“We’ll figure it out,” you continue through panted breaths, “but I’m not going anywhere, Spencer. I’ll prove to you that you don’t have to worry about losing me again, because I’m not letting go of you this time.”

He needs this. He needs the reassurance. He needs to feel safe. 

But so do you. 

“Fuck, I missed you so much,” he mutters, and brushes a piece of hair off your forehead..

“I needed you so badly,” you breathe. But your words come out strangled. 

It was a fluke, you thought. You’re just remembering it better than it was. At least, that’s what you told yourself every time you shamefully thought about Spencer to get yourself off—sometimes while you were with a partner. Those relationships never lasted long once you got to that point…

It wasn’t a fluke. It’s somehow better than you remember. 

Looking at the man above you, you realize what it is. The magic between you.

Little nods and breaths and kisses exchange, each a promise that you feel this, too. Palpable, yet unquantifiable. 

“So beautiful. You’re still so fucking beautiful and perfect, goddamn it,” Spencer cries.

The funny thing about sex is that it can act like a truth serum. Admitting to things you probably shouldn’t, all because you’re horny and pumped full of so much serotonin and dopamine that it just feels right to.

“I don’t think I ever stopped loving you.” 

Your shoulders tighten as you suck in a breath, unable to release it when Spencer slows. 

His mouth opens, as if to speak, but his face just contorts with pleasure as he starts pounding into you hard again. 

“Oh god, baby, I’m cumming,” he half moans, half laughs.

A laugh forces its way out of you as you realize what’s happening. Spencer’s head is in the crook of your neck as his body aimlessly jerks into you. You run a hand through his hair as he comes down from his high. Anything to comfort him. 

“Spencer Reid, did you—”

“Shut it,” he laughs, still catching his breath. 

He kisses you, and his cock twitches inside you, causing you to moan into his mouth. Heat builds in your chest as the kiss deepens, and you grip his hair at the back of his head in response. 

Part of you wants to grind your hips into him and get a round two out of him, but you can see his brain working overtime right now, his tell still being his dazed expression and fluttery blinks. 

“You okay?” you ask, brushing the hair off his forehead, letting your nails gently glide against his scalp in the way he used to love. 

“Yeah, that was just…”

“A lot?” you offer, and he nods in confirmation.

“I still just can’t believe you’re here,” he says. He swipes a thumb across your lower lip, and you spring your head forward, trapping his thumb between your teeth. You giggle and he plays along, pretending his finger is trapped. When you release it, you ask, “Real enough for you?”

“What’s gotten into you?” he laughs, but you can’t help from answering honestly.

“I feel twenty pounds lighter, which helps. I’m also just insanely happy that this did happen. All of it.”

“I’ve thought about this way too many times—about seeing you again and doing… this again,” he gestures to the space between you, dipping his chin, “but it’s still better than I remembered somehow.”

“I actually had the same thought about five minutes ago. My memories of you faded over time. I think my brain filled in the pieces, but they were like knock-off pieces, you know? The memory puzzle, even though it was complete, looked weirder and weirder over time as my brain filled it in with the knock-off pieces.”

Once the words leave your mouth, you aren’t even sure the thought makes sense anymore. But you decide to roll with it, too tired to backtrack. 

“That analogy isn’t that far off from how it works in the hippocampus, actually,” Spencer says, peppering a few kisses up your neck. “When you recall an old memory, fMRI scans have shown that neocortical activity occurs in the areas where the different pieces of that memory are stored, and then, the hippocampus re-encodes those pieces into the memory.”

God, it’s still so hot when he gets nerdy. Especially when he’s above you, glistening with sweat, and you’re still in a post-sex fog. 

You pull him down for yet another kiss—you fear you’ll never get enough of them—and when your lips part, you close your eyes and say, “You know we need to sit down and discuss everything, right?”

Spencer finally pulls out of you and flops onto the bed beside you. Even though he knows you need to get up still, he curls into your side with his arm draped over your waist and says, “I think it can wait until tomorrow, don’t you? I don’t work tomorrow, either, unless we get a call. So, why don’t we go out on a proper date?”

“Or,” you drag out the word, “we can stay here all day and never leave this bed?” you suggest, twisting your lips into a smile.

“Or,” he mimics you by dragging out his word, “we can go to the bookstore,” damn him for pulling out your kryptonite, “and then, go get lunch before coming back here.”

You put on a pout, pretending to consider. It’s so nice to be this playful again in such a short period of time. Time will tell as to what will become of this, if anything, but you can’t lie and say that it doesn’t feel damn good to have Spencer back in your life. The air is clear, and a weight that you had been unknowingly carrying around for a decade is gone. 

You do still love Spencer. You can picture yourself falling in love with him again. This time, with an open heart.

At the end of the day, though, you trust Spencer. And, you trust yourself enough now to know that you’d be okay, regardless of how things transpire.

That’s all that matters.

“Yeah, I think I can make that work.”

After a nice warm shower, Spencer’s arm wrapped around your naked body keeps you close, even though you’ve already got a leg wrapped around his. He places a kiss at your hairline. Your heavy eyelids fall closed, and his heartbeat and steady breathing lull you to sleep. 

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

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